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wanderingxiao · 8 months

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-The Cruel Prince-

NSFW, 18+ only Plz~

Summary: Prince Scaramouche is a ruthless Prince ruling over Inazuma. His engagement to a princess has him upset. You are his servant who he talks to regularly. He invites you to his private chambers one day...

Pairing: Prince! Scaramouche x Servant! Female Reader

Warning: Mean/Nice Scara, power relationship, fluffy cuteness, mean princess she don't got no name, unprotected sex, foul language, mutual masturbation, porn w/ plot, and cream pies hehe.

Word Count: 6.3K (...These are too long. I'll be making some shorter smuts without so much plot!)

Enjoy~

“Hmph, you, servant. Meet me in my personal chambers when you are finished. Do not leave me waiting long.” Splashes of dark lavender pooled from his eyes, his gaze piercing and powerful as he stared intimidatingly in your direction. The flashes of his Royal outfit shining under the chandeliers of the palace. With a swift turn, the prince left the kitchen where you had been cleaning up with the other servants. Low murmurs were exchanged among your co-workers, most in envy, some in fear, and some with pity. Prince Scaramouche of Inazuma truly was someone to be feared among all ranks, Including those of other nations. Just the mention of his name and the sound of thunder struck fear into the souls of even the dead. Now here this terrifying man was, inviting you to his personal chambers.

What could Prince Scaramouche possibly want with someone like you?

As a product of Queen Ei’s corrupt contract with an outcasted mage, Prince Scaramouche was conceived purely from the virgin queen. She needn’t no king by her side, only a son to take over in her steed once he was of age. The prince was a cruel man. He was merciless to those who deceive him. Unforgiving to those who do not yield under the frigid gaze his familiar lavender eyes cast. And spiteful to the trespassers and criminals that threaten to tarnish the reputation his name held. The fluidity of his tongue was similar to the way he held the sharpened blade adorning his hip, precise and always going for the kill. The frostiness of his dark lavender eyes was enough to scare the strongest men in any kingdom to bow to his feet. The prince truly is a cruel man.

But he can kind.

In fact, your first meeting with Prince Scaramouche was somewhat pleasant. After dusting the library, you had a bit of free time before your next task and chose to enjoy reading a novel. Being too engrossed in your book, you failed to notice the prince entering the room. His harsh tongue broke you from your intense concentration, standing up to bow to him with an apology quick on your lips. He was silent for a moment before he asked what you were reading. You briefly explained a vague summary of the book and the prince gave only a hum of acknowledgment. He didn’t disturb you more and simply left off into the library to retrieve a book of his own. A week later, you identified his lonely figure sitting at a cushioned royal blue sofa reading the book you had been reading. Thus, starting your complex relationship with Prince Scaramouche. Meeting in the library every two days to quietly discuss literature over tea.

Going to his personal chambers… was new.

Once you finished with your task, you made your way down the quiet hallways towards Prince Scaramouche’s private chambers. The sound of your own footsteps echoed in the stillness of the halls, almost identical to the sound of the thunder that often reined in the quiet and gloomy kingdom of Inazuma. The large mahogany doors of the prince’s private chambers came into your view, the smooth oak fragrance swimming through your nostrils, making you remember just how wealthy and powerful the prince was. Muffled voices came from the other side of the wooden doors, and you debated whether you should leave and come back at a different time. Reflecting over the prince’s words, you gave three firm knocks on the door, silencing the voices on the other end until one spoke loudly and sternly.

“Enter.” After an approval was voiced, you carefully entered the room and laid eyes on Prince Scaramouche and his fiancé. The cold look in his eyes never left, even for the woman whom he was betrothed to. The princess was already looking at you when you entered, a disgusted and envious look in her eyes. “What is this servant doing here in your room, Scaramouche? You knew I was coming today yet you still invite someone to your room to bother us?!” The prince paid no mind to the princess’s obnoxious question and beckoned you with his index finger. With quiet and careful steps, you made your way to the prince, standing in front of his desk looking down at him. “(Y/N).” Your eyes widened upon the use of your name. In the palace —at least in Inazuma—royals were not supposed to speak or even know their servants’ names. It was deemed unnecessary and a bit too close for blue-blood liking. Getting close to a servant was strictly forbidden, so you never told him your name even when he requested it of you. “Escort the princess out.”

“What?! But we’re supposed to be planning our wedding! You can’t throw me out! I won’t leave!” The princess sat down on one of his purple cushioned seats accented by a midnight threading. The prince merely looked at her and back to you, his eyes sharply narrowing as if to tell you to obey him. With a deep breath you politely spoke to the princess, “Please, princess. The prince has requested you-“ The princess stood making you stop your sentence as you believed she was going to leave. Her body turned towards you, her expensive heels clicking along the wooden floors of the prince’s private chambers until she was on you. In a blur, her hand rose and left a nasty red imprint on your cheek. Your legs felt shaky and the sting from her slap made tears water into your eyes. “Don’t ever speak to me so carelessly like that again, servant! I will be your queen! You treat me with respect! Do not let this happen again! I will return later to discuss our planning!”

The princess left, leaving you alone with Prince Scaramouche. The silence was utterly deafening. His dark lavender eyes were focused on your cheek, studying the rising redness that stained your perfect skin. A slender gloved finger rose and instructed you to come to his side. Your steps were shaky towards him, the thumping of your own heart loud in your ears the closer to got to him. You stood by his chair; gaze set down to him relaxing in his expertly crafted chair. The moment your eyes met you could feel how intense and threatening his gaze really was. Dark lashes fluttered against his eyes once he spared you a few lucid blinks. Your hands clasped together in front of you, awaiting an order from the prince.

“On your knees.” The command was stern and deep, practically forcing you to your knees beside the arm of his chair. Prince Scaramouche turned his chair to face you, his knees so close to your face you thought he was accidentally going to kick you in the face. You closed your eyes, lips tightening in a thin line awaiting his words. “…Lift your head.” You did as he instructed, your eyes landing on the smug and prideful expression that plastered itself onto his pale features. A cruel and teasing smile spread onto his lips, obviously pleased by your unwavering obedience. “Do you know why I’ve asked you to come?” Your head shook honestly, any sense of words dying in your throat as you struggled to maintain eye contact with him. A low chuckle slipped from his throat, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Truly pathetic you are…”

“F…Forgive me, Prince…” His midnight gloved hands gripped your chin causing red to blossom over both your cheeks. The smoothness of his thumb rose to glide over your lips, his eyes now focused on the plush softness of your lips. Once he realized he was staring a bit too longingly at your lips, he scoffed and let your chin go, now running his fingers along the handprint swollen into your cheek. “Such a good girl. You always listen so well. I’ll make sure her actions do not go unpunished as your reward.” Your eyes widened slightly at his praise and promise. Your lips parted only to have his finger press lightly against your lips. “Keep those pretty lips shut and listen.” You remained quiet, the heat of your cheeks only increasing due to the closeness of his touch. He retracted his hand and sighed out in frustration. “That wretch needs to go back to her own kingdom and stop interfering in my personal affairs so much. It’s damn annoying that I can’t get a moment to breath without her head weaseling its way so far up my ass I can’t even shit her out if I tried.”

A small giggle left your mouth, humored by his foul language and use of words. He paused to listen to your laughter, his face lighting up in surprise and bewilderment at such a sound. You lowered your head quickly muttering an apology. This only amused him more. “Hah! Am I truly that scary or are you this weak?” With a slightly flustered expression, you bit your lip and looked up to him again, shaking your head in response. The look that graced his dark lavender eyes told you that he wanted you to speak. He needed to hear it. “I…I’m not scared of you, Prince Scaramouche. You’ve always… been kind to me, even at our meetings in the library to discuss books. You’ve never shown true malice towards me. I only worry of disappointing you, Prince.”

It was evident from the look on his face that he was greatly pleased by your answer. “Hmm. A fine answer. That deserves a little reward don’t you think?” A sly smile spread across his lips, his teeth peaking from the plushness of his pale pink lips. Your face began to flush pink again, watching helplessly as his face leaned closer to yours. “How about a kiss? I think that sounds like a lovely reward.” Your heart hammered harder against your chest; your eyes wide as the prince tilted his head towards your lips. Nothing could stop him from doing as he pleased with you. You closed your eyes tightly, waiting for the impact of his lips against yours. A low chuckle came beside your ear, making you flinch. “Haha, you should see the look in your face. Did you actually think I was going to kiss you?”

“A-Ah?! W-Wait no… I-I’m so sorr—Mmph!” A hungry pressure was applied onto your lips, silencing your pitiful apology to the powerful prince. His tongue forced your lips apart, sliding over your teeth and gums with a predatory dominance. Your hands gripped the frilled fabric of your servant’s dress, eyes screwed tightly shut as you shook in his forceful lip-lock. Your mouth weakly fell apart for him, letting his tongue invade your mouth to claim you as his own. His gloved hand slid through your hair, lightly tugging your head back to push his tongue deeper. Your body was beginning to get hot, a soft sigh of embarrassed pleasure leaving your mouth into his. His lips curled against yours, letting you feel the way his expression morphed. He pulled away from you, his tongue slowly leaving yours to let your eyes see the thick string of saliva that connected your tongues. With a flick of his tongue the string snapped, his perverted tongue gliding over his upper lip. “You taste intoxicating. You sure you’re not trying to poison me or something?”

You couldn’t speak. Any words that tried to escape your lips couldn’t from the sheer shock of everything that was happening. All you could do was gaze up at him in awe. A slight sneer rose to his expression before he turned away with a dismissive pat and ruffle of your hair. “Your initial purpose for being here is no longer important. That’ll be all. You’re dismissed.” You blinked and swallowed thickly, shakily standing and bowing to him. Your face was purely red, utterly embarrassed and flustered by the events that transpired. The intensity of his gaze weighing in on the back of your head was truly terrifying. It felt as if he was sizing you up, studying your body and your physique to find your weak spot so that he can effectively pounce and devour you.

He was hunting you.

It wouldn’t be long before he would strike again.

Mindless chatter drummed against your ears as you quietly sat in the dining hall eating your dinner. Other servants surrounded you, eating their fills of the cooks’ tireless efforts. The prince and the princess had finally set a date for their wedding, which would also be the prince's coronation. You could tell by the way he carried himself lately that he was far from being please about this. The princess couldn’t have been more ecstatic. Her eyes sparkled roaming the halls of the palace, trying to make sense of all the turns and paths to get to where she needed to go the most. The servants attempted to avoid the princess due to her ludicrous and outright psychotic requests —mostly having to deal with Prince Scaramouche. Her goals were truly sinful, and the request of you and some other female servants was all the proof of that.

She wanted to be intimate with the prince.

Your mind drifted back to the day he kissed you. After Prince Scaramouche had sealed his lips on yours in a heated kiss, you tried to avoid him as much as you could, but he always found a way to get you. He always threw sly and underhanded comments about you trying to avoid him or being too flustered to face him. His mouth never quit running. His fingers began to linger more on your hands when you handed him a book, his eyes following your lips and letting them lower shamelessly to stare at your chest. His scent clogged your nose, his aura dazed your mind, and his voice was like constant music to your ears, hypnotizing you to think of him and him only. It was as if he had been with you all day and all night. Even when he isn’t around it always felt like his presence was somewhere close by.

It was obvious.

You were starting to fall in love with him.

A loud bang interrupted you from your thoughts. The door to the dining hall burst open, involuntarily welcoming the prince to the servants only area of freedom from work. His eyes connected with yours immediately, heated, and intense eyes glaring coldly at you. “Come to my chambers. Now!” His voice was booming and full of distaste, it was a contrast to what he had been showing you the past few weeks. The seductive and flirtatious tone he used with you was gone in this moment. Nothing but pure rage and detest radiating from his rather short frame. You rose slowly, the eyes of all the other servants following you as you walked towards him. Low murmurs were exchanged, making your expression sour which the prince took notice of quickly. “Silence! You dare to speak so casually and rudely in my presence? I should have all your heads!”

The room fell eerily silent, the only thing being heard was your quiet footsteps towards the prince. His eyes trained on you, lips forming a straight line as he had to compose himself before he started dragging you away by force. Once you were in front of the prince he turned swiftly and walked out with haste, expecting you to follow closely. You matched his stride, following behind not making a peep since it was crystal clear that the prince was in a terrible mood. The familiar narrows and curves of the hallway alerted you to where he was leading you. The intimidating thumps of his boots sounded like the raging thunder that rocked the land and haunted the dreams of children. It felt as if you were caught in the middle of a terrible storm that showed no mercy with merciless winds and crackling thunder.

The prince swung the door open, grabbing your wrist and pulling you in with a harsh tug. A surprised gasp flew from your lips, not expecting the sudden impact when your back hit the dark wood of his door. The lock slid into place with a click as the prince’s gloved hands twisted the lock. He was quick in his movements, lips locking with yours in a passionate kiss. The leather of his gloves slid along your wrists, slowly pushing your hands up above your head until he held them there with one hand, trailing the other back down your arm to your face. A soft sigh left your mouth, your body instantly becoming weak at the prince’s dominant touch. He pulled away slowly, dark lavender eyes gazing into yours intently while his thumb grazed your cheek softly.

“You belong to me now. I’m tired of all this bullshit. I’m no longer going to abide by their rules. Submit to me.” He muttered against your lips, his eyes staring into yours intently. Both of your hands were held by your wrists in one of his strong slender hands. A confused look spread over your face, lightly panting against his lips as he continued to press his body against yours. “W-Wait Prince Scaramouche… M-May I speak?” The prince froze hearing your hesitance to his actions. The dejected look crossing his eyes made you shiver since he was beginning to become upset. He slowly let go of your wrists, stepping away from you with a bit of reluctance. You made a shy step forward, clearing your throat and adjusting your clothes. The prince clearly didn’t like this. “P-Prince Scaramouche… may I ask what happened to have you advancing on me all of a sudden? We… we kissed before once but… y-you’re a Royal, and you’re engaged to the princess, your wedding is-“

“I don’t give two shits about status or that wretch.” His words were cold and harsh, practically spitting them out at you as if they were poison on his tongue. The fury in his eyes was evident, annoyance raising to his lips in a bitter sneer. “I am only with her due to my mother forcing a marriage to me. I would rather have you, than her. Haha! You’re the only one who isn’t so scared of me that you’ll actually have a normal conversation with me. Does your small brain not comprehend how lonely I must be? How your less annoying presence satiates this emptiness in my chest? How your kind words melt my heart? How you treat me like a human being?” A sorrowful frown curved onto his lips, his eyes softening in the slightest when he made another step towards you. The dazzling shines of his medals in the dim lighting reminded you again of who exactly was in front of you, admitting he wanted to be with you instead of the beautiful princess. “B-But-“

“Hah, enough with the back talk. I’ve already admitted that I wish to have you regardless of the situation. It’s a matter of accepting or rejecting me. What is it you want, (Y/N)? If you aren’t a coward against royalty… then accept me. I can see it in your eyes you wish to have me too.” There was no denying that yes, you did want Prince Scaramouche. He held such power, respect, and most of all, he held a soft tenderness to you. The way his expression softens and relaxes when you’re in the library with him, asking childish and innocent questions he wishes to know. Those who get close to know the prince and genuinely care will know that of his caring and curious nature. None had ever gotten to experience this. You were the first one to ever want to know the prince, and here he was, rewarding you for your kindness, your patience, and your bravery for standing in the face of a furious thunderstorm, appreciating its cool rapid winds and loud thunder. Through masked words of rudeness to shield his soul, his actions revealed what lies in his heart. “Spit it out already, I’m losing patience.”

You didn’t respond verbally to him, you only gazed at him with the gentle tenderness that lovers would exchange. Your bare hands rose slowly, letting your fingertips slide over his unblemished pale features. His skin was cool to the touch yet soft as if it had never been touched or seen by that of battle or labor. The long lashes surrounding his dark lavender eyes fluttered under your gentleness, his gloved hands coming to rest against the back of one of your own hands. Your lips grew closer to his, brushing them softly against one another before you sealed your answer with a loving kiss. The prince moved his hands along your arm, slowly coming down to settle against your waist, pulling you closer towards him in attempt to practically become one with you. His touch was desperate, hungry, and oh so feverishly nervous. Truly sinful for someone of his status.

“Fuck…” A faint curse came from his soft pale pink lips, the color of his cheeks rising to a gorgeous rosy red. His hands came down your slowly, inching his way closer and closer to your bottom. Anxious pants left your lungs as you waited for him to firmly grab you and continue. His strong hands gripped against the plushness of your ass, groping, and kneading the curvy flesh. A low groan erupted from his chest, bringing his hand down to pull your leg up against his hip. “You’re so beautiful…” The prince’s generous praise serenaded your body to croon into him, your mind turning to mush at the simple melody of his affections. Sparks of dark lavender glimmered within his eyes; the darkness of his pupils blown out in pure desire. His sinful tongue slipped past the guard of his thin lips to slide along your neck slowly before his teeth met your skin in a mix of passion and lust. “P-Prince-“

“Call my name.” His lips vibrated against your flesh, his hot breath fanning against your skin threatening to leave passionate burns of his affections. A pathetic whimper sounded from your throat, your tongue testing the waters of how well his name rolled off. “S-Scaramouche…” A heated sigh leaves the royal’s lips, his body moving forward to hold you against the wall. His teeth grazed your neck hungrily, his tongue marked you possessive, and his lips caressed your heart to encourage you to yearn for him more. “Such a good girl. Always so good to me.” Both of his hands slapped against your butt and pulled you up to hold your legs around his waist, carrying you back to his bedroom. The harsh kick of his boots made the door swing open, in an instant your back was against the bed with the prince on you in mere seconds. “Tell me what you want. Tell your Prince what to do to your lewd body.”

“S-Scaramouche… I…” The words caught in your throat as you tried to think of a way to voice your desires to the Prince of Inzauma. Your flustered appearance only spurred the prince to touch you further. His slender fingers, still encased by the smoothness of his ebony gloves, glided up the skirt of your servant’s attire. The tenderness of his touch against your thighs turned desperate quick when he started to ascend higher, getting dangerously close to your shamefully wet cunt. “Use your words, darling.” The sweetness in his tone as he cooed that sensational nickname to you was enough to let your mind finally accept what was going to happen. You looked up to him, newfound confidence, and desire in your eyes. Of course, he noticed immediately with a satisfied smile, his tongue coming to lick his lips seductively. “Please, Scaramouche… touch me more.”

“Hah, fuck…!” His lips crashed down on yours again, his hands making quick work go grab your thighs and part them, placing himself between them. The heat of his body scorched yours, a light sweat coating your forehead as his touches got all the more sinful. His tongue flicked and swirled against your own before he grabbed your jaw and pulled away from your lips, forcing you to keep your mouth open. Without so much as a breath, he spat in your mouth, sending a shiver down your spine as his spit mushed around on your tongue. “Swallow it.” His tone was no longer sweet and loving, it was demanding, lustful, seductive, and oh so lewd. You did as he instructed, swallowing his spit with a flustered squirm. The gorgeous shimmer of his canines came to your hazy view, his teeth snatching the leather on the tip of his finger and pulling his glove off with his teeth. God his hands were just absolutely gorgeous. “Good girl. You still want more, right?”

You nod anxiously. A dark chuckle rumbled his chest, his gloves discarded to now feverishly unbutton the front of your shirt. “Good answer. Now sit back… and let your divine Prince take care of you.” His fingers brushed over your skin when he pushed your shirt open, dark lavender irises landing on the raggedy white bra you wore. While he was enjoying the delicious view, his lips turned downwards into scowl at the condition of your undergarment. “Tsk, we’ll have to change this if you are to become my woman. I’ll make sure you’re dressed in the most exquisite lingerie mora can buy.” A soft moan echoed into his ears once his hands made contact with your breasts, smooth hands kneading your tender mounds. The pads of his fingers teased your flesh, lightly dipping into the front of your bra and sliding his hand down to pinch your nipple. “Hmm! P-Prince Scaramouche…!”

The uncomfortable push of your shambled bra from his fingers was nothing compared to the bliss you experienced under his hot touch. “Have you ever been touched like this before?” It was clear from the look in his eyes that he was searching for a particular answer. He begged you to say no, begged that he was the only man that’s ever touched you. It was possessive, jealous, and pitiful the way he gnawed at his lower lip waiting for your answer. “Mmph, no you’re, hah, t-the first Scaramouche.” His irksome scowl twisted into a cocky grin, the heaviness of his eyelids coming down to hold his vision. He was now solely focused on making you feel the best. “Good. Then let my touch be carved into that dumb brain of yours. Moan till your hearts content, darling.”

His fingers pulled away slowly, his hands coming to push your bra up and over your head instead of unclipping it. This action made you realize that the brave and often times egotistical prince was also inexperienced. You would’ve never guessed due to his personality. Every act he did he did with the utmost confidence as if he’d rehearsed every scenario imaginable. The cloudy gaze he set on your chest was intense, his pupils blown out in pure lustful devotion to your body. Every swell and curve of your breasts had him mesmerized. The cute little erection of your nipples, the darker pigmentation of your areolas, and the slight jiggle they had whenever you shifted about. He quickly found himself becoming obsessed with the sight, imagination running wild with all the lewd things he could do. How would they look covered in his cum? Scratch that, maybe some lovely purple hickeys? Nah, what about some red blotchy bite marks?

Fuck, he wants it all!

“S-Scaramouche?” The sound of your flustered voice broke him from the bewitched state he had suffered when looking at your bare chest. A rosy blush spread over your cheeks; hands shaky at your sides wanting to cover yourself from his unwavering gaze. He let out a small, amused chuckle. “What? Can I not admire your body? I am a prince after all… I should be able to admire my things when I please.” His lips descended, landing on your collar bone only to cascade down to give wet kisses along the swells of your chest. His tongue came around your areola, flicking up to nudge your erected nipples. “Hmm!” You flinched upon the sudden action, lips coming up set in a firm line while your eyebrows scrunched in silenced pleasure. He repeated this action, earning another small flinch accompanied by a hushed whimper. “You’re so cute when you try to hide your voice from me. We’ll see how long you can keep that up.”

The prince moved his bare hands along the sides of your waist, catching under your skirt and pulling the frilled fabric down to expose the lace of your panties. The pads of his elegantly slender fingers glided easily over your skin, giving your legs chilly goosebumps at his touch. His index and middle finger slid from your skin to the sensational folds of your clothed cunt, rubbing slowly to ease his way between them. “Heh, look how wet you are… that’s incredibly lewd of you, (Y/N).” The grin on his face widened once he saw your face contort in quivering ecstasy as his fingertips teased at your folds. His middle finger found your puffy clit, rubbing back and forth slowly. Your back arched with a gasp at the sudden action, limbs twitching while your lip found its way between your teeth. “Ah, ah, don’t you dare try to hold back those pretty moans. Let everyone hear you. Let them know how well I pleasure you, princess.”

The prince relished in the way your body squirmed underneath him. It was always something he unconsciously loved. Dominating others and controlling every aspect over them. Discomfort boiled within the prince’s groin, his cock twitching feeling his fingertips becoming damp with your slick that was overflowing from your lovely cunt. He quickly withdrew one of his hands from your body, hastily unbuckling his pants to relieve the strain against his hard cock. “What do you want, darling? Tell your master what you fucking want!” His fingers encased your clit, rolling the bundle of nerves between his fingertips until your back was arching, head throwing back into the exquisite silk of the prince’s bed. “Scaramouche! P-Please… I-I can’t-! Want-! Ngh… I want more!” A cocky smirk plastered across the thin pale lips of the prince, his fingers now hooking on the side of your panties to pull them aside and slide his fingers up and down your wet folds. “Tsk, Tsk, not good enough. Be more specific.” Heavy lustful breaths poured from your mouth, your throat already dry and your heart beginning to hammer against your chest. “F-Fingers, hah, inside please…”

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, I’ll indulge you for our first time… don’t expect the same treatment in the future now, darling.” With a sensationally fluid movement, the prince’s fingers embedded themselves into your warm cunt, walls fluttered tight at the sudden intrusion. A flustered and surprised gasp spewed from your lips, thighs shaking slightly at the god-like structure of his fingers. With his other hand, he grabbed your hand and guided it to rest against the tight bulge against his undergarments, his heavy arousal. A relieved sigh escaped from his lungs, groaning deeply at the contact against his cock. “Rub it if you want more. Hurry.” Desperation was laced within his hushed tone, hips bucking lightly into your hand to feel the electrifying friction of your hand on his erection. “C’mon, baby… fucking rub it.”

With a shy blush, you started to move your hand loosely around his cock, earning a low groan at the feathery touch. A satisfied grin spread onto his swollen pale lips feeling your cunt squeeze on his fingers. “What? You like jerking me off, darling? That’s… hah, incredibly lewd of you, fuck.” Scaramouche leaned over you, jaw clenched when your fingers kept loosely brushing over his tip over and over again. His fingers hooked inside of you, thrusting them deep causing your grip to tighten in surprise on his cock. You both moaned in unison, enjoying each other’s sinful touch. The prince bucked his hips into your hand, matching indigo brows furrowing at the lovely warmth around his twitching arousal. “Such a good girl. Always so, hah, obedient for me even like this.”

“S-Scaramouche... hmm.” His fingers eagerly fucked your dripping cunt with purpose. His eyes were trained on your sinful expressions, fingers spreading to stretch out your walls. The friction of your fingers against his tip caused him to hunch over at a rapid approach to his release. “Stop.” Your hand immediately retracted upon hearing his order, worried you possibly hurt him or did something to cause him pain. Scaramouche pulled his fingers from you, not missing the small whimper that vibrated your throat as emptiness was all you were left with. Seeing such a worried expression, the prince laughed and kissed your forehead before bringing his fingers to his lips. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m just… too eager to have you right now.” A dark look of lust covered his eyes, devilish tongue coming to flick over his fingers and taste your juices. The flustered expression on your face was rewarding. Once his fingers were clean, he shrugged off his clothes, letting your eyes wander around the physique of the prince's slender tone body until your eyes trained on his erection before embarrassingly looking back into his dark lavender eyes. “Heh, think you can handle it?”

An audible gulp echoed from your throat.

“Y-Yes…” A small snicker came from the flashy Prince. He guided his hands along your thighs, spreading them wide open to your embarrassment. Scaramouche licked his lips at the view of you beneath him, cheeks faintly pink, drunk off the feeling of lust and your beautiful features. You belonged there. In his arms underneath him, obediently letting him do as he pleased. His one and only princess forever. “Oh? Yeah? Well…” Something wet and firm rubbed over your entrance, making your eyes snap down to identify what it was even though you knew what it was. A grin spread over his face and with one fluid movement, his cock was sheathed snuggly inside your warm and inviting cunt. A low groan ripped from his chest, sighing loudly in relief and pleasure at the blissful feeling. “Let’s see if you can keep up, darling.”

It hurt at first, his cock stretching your walls past their usual limits. Your face scrunched in pain, your lungs clawing for air as the sudden invasion left you breathless and panting. Scaramouche’s hips rutted into yours slow and firm, heavy balls slapping against the plush of your ass while his fingers dug bruises into your waist. “Shh, just… hah, bear with it for a bit.” After a few shallow thrusts, your walls got used to the feeling of being stretch and the pain twisted and melted into sinful pleasure. A soft moan was all Scaramouche needed to know you were feeling good. His hips began to buck harsher into yours. With grit teeth and furrowed brows, he growled out lowly. “You’re so fucking tight. Hah, shit.”

“Hmm, Scaramouche, hah, it’s so… deep, hngh!” Your head threw back into the expensive sheets of the prince’s bed. Your hands darted up to his toned shoulders, clutching onto him for dear life as his cock drilled deeper. The mushy head of his erection kissed against your cervix, making stars appear in your vision. Nothing had ever felt this good before, it was addicting, like a drug that once you start you could never stop. Scaramouche was too good. “Shit, shit… Agh…!” Strands of soft indigo rested against your sweaty forehead, warm breath fanning repeatedly over your face as the prince got closer to your face panting. Your lashes fluttered, black overtaking your vision as you solely focused on the pace of his hips and the swollen plush of his lips against yours. His pace became harsher and quicker, forcing loud and unabashed moans to flow into his mouth to swallow for him and him only. “You feeling good, darling? Hah, tell me how fucking good it feels, ngh.”

“It feels so -hah!- so good Scaramouche! So good! T-Too… much, ahh!” An unfamiliar feeling began to build in your abdomen, it was tight and hot. Your fingers dug into the unmarked flesh of his shoulders, embarrassed eyes slowly opening to look up at the prince. His eyes connected with yours instantly, a storm of indigo and deep lavender swirled within his irises, threatening to destroy your whole being with his overwhelming lust and affection. It was such a turn on to make eye contact with him while he was massaging your velvety insides with his thick cock. He leaned down and sealed your lips with his own once more, his pace faltering and a groan reverberating onto your lips as his orgasm grew closer and closer. “Shit, I’m gonna cum… Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming! Gah, damnit!”

“Scaramouche wait-! Ahh! Wait, wait- Mmm!!” Your toes curled and your back arched off the bed, a cry of your new lover’s name leaving your swollen abused lips. A creamy ring surrounded his cock, your juices making lewd squelching noises as his cock slid in and out of you so nicely. With an increasingly sloppy pace, the prince stilled on top of you, his body trembling slightly before letting out a flurry of pleasured curses. A warm gush flooded your insides, and you could feel the tip of his cock twitching wildly as his cum sputtered into your core. A shiver ran down your spine feeling so full inside, all of it was just so… blissful and overwhelming. You both sat there trying to catch your breath until Scaramouche's voice cut through the air. “(Y/N).” His voice was low and heaving as he called out to you. Your eyes could barely stay open anymore with how tired your love making had been. “Yes, Prin- Scaramouche…?”

“…You’ll be my Queen, won’t you?” With a loving smile, you leaned up gently and kiss his warm cheek. “Of course, without a doubt.” The prince snorted and flicked your forehead. “Good. Not as if I would let you say no to begin with.”

The prince was a cruel and selfish man, but he was also kind.

"Time for me to go out and find the truth. So long, suckers!"

-Scaramouche

#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche smut #scara smut #prince scaramouche #genshin smut #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #inazuma

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consanguinitatum · 4 months

Text

David as Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing (the first time he did it, that is!)

David Tennant fans are aware of 2011's brilliant Much Ado About Nothing, in which DT starred as Benedick, alongside Catherine Tate as Beatrice. Filmed at the Wyndham's Theatre in London and directed by Josie Rourke, the production was recorded and offered on Digital Theatre.

But did you know David had played Benedick before?

Yep - he sure has!

It was in 2001, a full decade before his production with Catherine.

Beginning in 1999, BBC Radio 3 launched Shakespeare For The Millennium, an ambitious project to dramatize seventeen Shakespeare productions in four years.

The project was done in collaboration with BBC Worldwide, which emphasized it wanted to take a contemporary, innovative approach to the Bard. It launched on 12 September 1999 with a Shakespeare discussion panel, and a new production of Hamlet -- starring none other than Michael Sheen as the Dane!

On 23 September 2001, BBC Radio 3 broadcast a new production of Much Ado About Nothing as the Sunday Play, with David in the lead role as Benedick and Samantha Spiro as Beatrice. Adapted by Sally Avens, it featured an introduction (as had all the previous productions in the Shakespeare For The Millennium series) by Richard Eyre, the former Director of the Royal National Theatre.

The production also starred a few other recognizable names. There was Chiwetel Ejiofor as Claudio, Emilia Fox as Hero, David Swift as Leonato, Julian Rhind-Tutt as Don John, and David Haig as Dogberry.

All original music was composed and performed by Simon Oakes and Adam Wolters.

Radio listings and announcements, and promo photos of David and Samantha Spiro

Here's a review of the prodcuction!

Much Ado About Nothing was commercially released by BBC Worldwide as part of the BBC Radio collection series in 2001.

The sleeve notes of cassettes and CDs of the production include a scene-by-scene synopsis, a full character analysis, and an essay on interpretation from the director Sally Avens.

Almost four years later, in November 2005, BBC One broadcast a television series called ShakespeaRe-Told, a set of four adaptations of Shakespeare's plays. Each play was adapted by a different writer, and all were relocated to the present day.

The first to be broadcast - on 7 November 2005 - was a modern-day version of Much Ado About Nothing starring Sarah Parrish and Damien Lewis...and Billie Piper and Nina Sosanya and Olivia Colman!

You can watch it here:

youtube

Six days after this television broadcast - on 13 November 2005 at 7:15 pm - BBC Radio 3 re-broadcast the audio version starring David and Samantha in its 'Drama On 3' slot.

Fast forward to August 2020.

The BBC released a set of four BBC Radio Shakespeare collections: Histories, Comedies, Tragedies, and Roman Plays. Much Ado About Nothing was included in the collection of Comedies, and became available as an Audible digital download.

If you want to listen, you can find this collection a lot of places. It might be at your local library or on Overdrive, on Google Play, or as an Amazon Audible book.

Or, ya know, just go here:

#DavidTennant #ObscureDavidTennantPerformances #DavidTennantAudios #MuchAdoAboutNothing #Youtube

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befuddled-calico-whump · 5 months

Text

cw: aftermath of whump, implied abuse, fantasy slavery, violence, manhandling.

based on this prompt by @howls-ghost

"Trite details bore me. I'll leave it to you to complete, and complete quickly," said Prince Acacius.

"I've had enough of your dimwitted blathering. See yourself to the door," said Prince Acacius.

"Remember your place," said Prince Acacius.

Laith was sick of it. Sick of the arrogant little brat prancing around the palace like he was already king. They hated Acacius and his cold, dismissive attitude. The spoiled twat didn't know a thing about running a kingdom, and wouldn't know humility if it bit him on the nose.

The only reason the country wasn't already in ruins was due to the competence of Laith and the rest of the high council. Even the regent, as good a man he was, was taken out of commission by Acacius, forced to keep the aloof young man at his side at all hours for supposed education. Not that Laith believed Acacius absorbed any of it. He was a horrid prince, and he'd make a horrid king.

And Laith intended to do something about it.

It started as something small and reasonable; a daydream about teaching the prince a lesson, of having him whipped for insolence, or beaten in the streets, or simply pushed off the balcony.

But none of those were realistic dreams, and none of those were enough. Acacius needed a punishment that would stick, something scarring, something humiliating.

The thoughts danced across Laith's mind through all their waking hours, turning sharper and more creative with every insult from the rotten prince.

But then, they thought, why bother with a mere punishment? Why not be rid of the arrogant heir for good? Death was too quick for his poisoned heart, but there were alternatives. Slavers in the West and enemies in the North, and either faction would jump at the chance to own the pretty prince. Should Laith's goal be realized, it would do more than sate their need for justice; it would spare the kingdom from a heartless ruler.

They'd lock him in a cell with no sunlight for a year. They'd remove his acrid tongue, put out his disdainful eyes, somehow they'd hurt him in a way that mattered.

They took their time making the arrangements; letters delivered in secret, coded messages, quiet plans and plots to cover the prince's upcoming disappearance. At last, the hour was drawing near. At last, Acacius would get all that he deserved.

But of course, Laith would have their fun with him first.

They came upon the royal in the dead of night. Laith had been making note of Acacius's movements, and by now they knew to expect the young man's midnight journey to the library. Too good to be seen there in daylight hours, when servants were dusting and lesser lords were reading. Too good to even peruse the shelves alongside those he deemed as unworthy.

Laith fell upon the prince as soon as he reached the library doors, wrapping their arm tight around a torso clad in a loose silk shirt, their other hand clamped over Acacius's mouth to dampen his startled cry. The prince made fearful noises beneath their hand, but there was no time to savor the sound. Laith knew they must move swiftly or risk alerting the night watch.

They slammed the prince's head into the heavy oak door behind him. Once, twice, and then their royal prisoner's struggling lessened. Laith forced him to the ground, stuffing a wad of cloth into his mouth and tying it in place with a cord. That same cord trailed down from the prince's head to wind around his wrists, then back up again to circle his throat, forming a makeshift collar and leash to better Laith's control of him. He tugged harshly at the rope, and the dazed prince stumbled to his feet, whimpering softly from behind the gag.

There was no haughtiness in his eyes, only something meek and fearful. It was nearly enough to make Laith second-guess their plans, but their memories of the man they knew Acacius to be strengthened their resolve.

They would not fall for this docile ruse. They knew the truth.

Laith delved deeper into the castle, making for one of the secret passages in the stone that would lead them outside the keep. There was a cottage at the edge of the woods, overlooking the river that ran alongside the castle's walls. A peasant girl had sighted it after Laith offered her a penny to find a covert location. It was perfect; well away from anyone who could hear them, and the river would make an easy path for the slavers' skiff.

They hauled Acacius into the cottage, unable to resist giving the prince a sharp kick in the back that sent him tumbling to the ground. The slavers weren't set to arrive until just before sunrise. Laith had nearly an hour to get revenge for every petty insult that had ever been flung their way.

Laith dropped a knee into the prince's chest, holding his head in place while he removed the gag.

Acacius's eyes were teary and pleading, but Laith refused to let the act sway them. If anything, it only fueled their fire. How dare this impudent brat act like this was unearned? Now safe behind a closed door, Laith let their fury burn, raining fists and kicks down on the prince's helpless form, relishing every muffled cry. No, they shouldn't be muffled. They wanted to hear Acacius plead for mercy.

"N-nnh please... Please don't," the shaky words left Acacius's throat with the balled-up cloth. Laith answered him with another blow, and the prince squeezed his eyes shut. When they opened again, there was a distant look to them, tears trickling from the corners.

No matter. Soon they'd be rid of him for good.

Small whimpers and gasps left Acacius's throat as Laith continued the beating, but aside from a few weak pleas, the prince didn't speak, or even look their way. Like he was only waiting for it to end. Their blows slowed, the enjoyment fading as the royal seemed to detach himself from the moment. Laith huffed. Even bound and beaten, Acacius was still ruining their day.

Ignoring the blank look on the prince's face, Laith drew their knife, cutting away Acacius's clothing. Even if that didn't get a reaction, it served the practical purpose of making things a shade easier on the slavers.

The prince lay very still, his breaths small and shaky as Laith removed the ruined clothing. And underneath the silk... Laith was unprepared for what was underneath the silk.

Old bruises covered Acacius's torso, scars layered beneath, some fresher than others. The wounds didn't stop there; more scars scattered the prince's legs, some framed in a sickly yellow-green.

"What is this?" Laith whispered, the question half-directed at themselves. Acacius didn't answer, staring up at the ceiling with eyes that looked glazed over.

Seeing another wound on their prisoner's shoulder, this one oddly shaped, Laith grabbed Acacius's upper arm and rolled him onto his stomach. The prince answered the action with a startled cry.

"N-no, please, please don't---"

"Shut up," Laith hissed, taking in the prince's back. It seemed the brat had been whipped before, and on more than one occasion by the looks of it. They couldn't say whether the dark feeling welling up in them was more akin to pity, or bitterness that they hadn't been able to witness the lashings themselves.

Starker than the whip scars was the image burned into Acacius's back. An intricate pattern, asymmetrical and varied in color, like its artist had begun months or even years ago and was still perfecting it. The newest mark was still a bright, skinless red, as if it had been smouldering mere hours ago.

Laith let out a disgusted sigh, turning their back on the sniveling prince. It seemed Acacius had been getting what he'd deserved for some time now, but it had done little to improve his attitude. Who had done this to him? Could it have been the regent? Why was pity seeping into them, like poison from a soured wound?

Acacius didn't deserve their pity. Wounded or not, he still paraded the palace ground like a bejeweled goose, hissing and biting at anyone he seemed lesser.

But why? came a small voice inside them. Why put on such an arrogant mask?

It didn't matter. Wounded or not, the prince should have better respected Laith and their peers.

There was a sharp rap on the door, and Laith pushed it open an inch to peer out into the darkness. A pale woman with a shaved head stood on the other side, wearing clothing that was clearly foreign, despite its simplicity.

"Here to collect your gift?" they said, and the woman smiled.

"Aye. The North'll pay a pretty penny for your little heir."

"Wonderful," Laith said, but the word felt insincere. They couldn't let themselves doubt their plans now, the deed was nearly done. They opened the door further. "Take him then. Let's have this over with."

Acacius lay still on the ground, though his hands were trembling. He'd ceased his begging and was now crying softly and hells, Laith couldn't stand to hear it.

They bent over the prince, grabbing a fistful of his hair and roughly stuffing the gag back into his mouth to muffle that damned pathetic noise.

"Take him," they said again, more insistently. "Take him and be gone."

"S'wrong with his back?"

"I don't know." Laith shook their head. "Take him."

"Not a word of me," they said. "You'll make a fortune off him, all I ask is my name and face remain unknown."

"Alright, alright." The woman seized the rope, the leash Laith had formed, and tugged on it, forcing the prince to his feet. Acacius's eyes were teary and pleading, but Laith turned their back on him.

"Your wish is my command," the woman chuckled, leading the prince towards the rocky shore, where her boat lay waiting. A sob escaped Acacius as he passed the threshold.

"Wait." Hells, what were they saying? They wanted nothing more to do with the royal. They needed him gone, but when the prince turned back to look at them, the flash of hope in his eyes wrenched in their gut.

Those damned eyes. Those haughty, arrogant, judging eyes.

"Remember your place," said Prince Acacius.

"Nevermind," Laith said quickly. "Go. Get him out of here."

The woman tugged on the leash, nearly causing the bound royal to stumble. Fresh tears wet Acacius's cheeks, but Laith looked away, pretended not to see.

They could pretend a lot of things. Surprise at the prince's sudden disappearance, sorrow and outrage at his captivity in the enemy North. For themselves, they'd pretend they were satisfied, that they'd never seen Acacius's scars.

And as they watched the skiff disappear on the dark waters of the river, they pretended they had no regrets.

#:) we love some arrogant royal suffering #royal whump #anyways i can no way afford to make this a series lol so it'll probably sit at a one-off for a very long time (if i even write more at all)#ooh honestly if we wanna play a game of 'whump telephone' or pass the page or whatever someone else can write the next part #and then another person can write the next part #and so on #those are fun i do them with my sister sometimes #anyways GREAT prompt thank you howls-ghost #royal whumpee #captivity #past torture #whump fic #fantasy whump #beating #begging

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bleachification · 8 months

Text

⸻ CHAPTER FIVE; ALL MEN ARE EQUAL

pairing: dazai x f!reader (fantasy au)

warnings: mentions/themes of depression

chapter list: this is CHAPTER FIVE of a multi-chapter fic series. PLEASE read the chapters below (in order) before this one or you will be very lost!!

prologue

one

two

three

four

word count: 3.5k

+ + + + + + + + + + + + +

Back in your homeland, at the Imperial Palace, the largest constructed facilities are ones of sport and training. Sharpened swords and polished armour take the place of bookshelves on bedroom walls, and the practice of scripture is seldom found. Higher education, though no less important than warfare, is strictly limited to scriveners, court officials, and the professional erudites of your father’s choosing. In the face of current conflicts, most of your father’s people are far more absorbed in military affairs and bureaucracy than arithmetics, the sciences and the humanities.

Although, when it came to you, it was like a switch went off and all those sentiments were turned upside down.

By a certain age, your tutelage switched from scholarly knowledge to that of etiquette and what he referred to as ‘womanly affairs’. Those usually consisted of things like sewing, music, and art classes. The only one you ever enjoyed was the horseback lessons.

But thankfully, your father’s one track mind meant you were never discovered for—or suspected of—possessing further-education books and studying politics, diplomacy, and military tactics on the days general schooling lessons were cancelled. It is why you find yourself in the royal library, hours before you are due to meet Dazai for dinner.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of marble shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling. Each one is stacked, end-to-end, with leather bound tomes and tea-stained manuscripts. There is a fireplace in the right corner, carved from blackened stone and crackling with warmth. Around it sits a pair of dark-green, thickly-cushioned armchairs, along with a matching sofa that is wide enough to fit at least four people.

You walk further in and are greeted with four arched windows spanning the length and height of the space, each one clear as the summer sea. You squint, momentarily blinded by a sudden passing ray of sunlight. Birds are chirping underneath the morning sky, and branches of a looming willow tree sway in front of the left-most window. You take in the sprawling garden view; a labyrinthine maze of hedges take up the centre, and a large assortment of decorations speckle the grounds. Smaller fountains, rainbow flower beds, and iron-wrought benches are only a few of what you can see.

You look around a bit more, noting the study tables anchored to the floor and the winding staircase that leads to the open-plan second floor. The library is well-kept, as shown by the pots holding blooming flowers along the window sills, but the dust lining the shelves indicates that no one has used the archives in a long time. You wonder why—it is the first and only comforting place that you have found in the cold, lonely palace.

You make your way down the stacks before a section catches your eye.

A Comprehensive Guide on Abilities and a Meta Analysis on their Structural Archetypes;

The Scholar’s Circle’s Codex on Yokohama’s Political Affairs;

North vs. South: A Dynastic Tale of Continental History.

You grab all three and almost lose your balance from the weight of each text. More and more books are added to the pile in your arms until you can no longer see straight ahead.

With a huff, you drop the mountain of pending research onto an oak-stained study table and quickly get to work.

Hours pass, the concept of time long faded as you lose yourself in the world of preternatural powers, warring states, and the cluttered institutions that make up the Kingdom in its most present form.

The striking differences between Yokohama and the Northern Empire are more vast than you had ever imagined. It's a stark contrast—governance, industry, arts, religion and everything else you've come across so far. Not a single commonality to be found.

“How has…? But wouldn’t the roots originate from the dark ages? Let’s see…” you mumble, talking to no one in particular.

“Have you found a specially interesting read?” A particular person asks.

You fall out of your seat in surprise.

“General!” You squeak, reeling from his sudden appearance.

The mild-mannered Fukuzawa gives you a gentle smile and moves to help you up. He hooks two large arms under your own and lifts you back onto your chair. The scene reminds you of a mother cat picking its kitten up by the scruff of its neck.

You drop your head onto the table in embarrassment, refusing to make eye contact until, hopefully, a meteor comes falling onto earth and crushes you to death.

“Good morning, General,” you mutter.

“Hmm.”

You peek up at him with one eye. “What?”

“It is five in the evening,” he replies, bemused.

“What?!” You bolt up, shame long forgotten.

It takes you a second to realize how orange the library is, cast in the hues from the setting sun.

You drag a hand over your face, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes. “Shit, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

Fukuzawa raises a brow.

“What? You’ve never heard a noble cuss before?”

He taps his chin. “I can’t say I have. You truly are a breath of fresh air, Your Highness.”

You grin. “As are you, General. And please…”

He listens, head tilting in curiosity.

“It is [name]. We are friends, are we not?” Your false sincerity coats your words like a second skin.

The sun dips far below the horizon, robbing the world of its light. You take in the storm clouds in the distance, absentmindedly wondering if the Empire would experience the same downpour later in the night.

Fukuzawa ponders your question for a moment longer before answering. “We are, but I am also your subordinate, so I am afraid I must decline.”

“And if it is an order?”

Fukuzawa’s eyes sparkle. “Then I am under aristocratic obligation to comply.”

In a tone laced with authority and bemusement, you proclaim: “I, acting Monarch of Yokohama, hereby order General Yukichi Fukuzawa to act beyond propriety and address me by given name only. No titles, no fancy designations. Just [name].”

“As long as you are willing to grant me that same honor, [name].”

You grin. “See? Isn’t that so much better, Yukichi?”

The General only laughs and turns to take a seat across from you. The armour he dons makes a clanging noise as he settles himself. Patches of dirt litter the surface of the metal while other areas sport minor indents—likely from the force of a blade's flat or hilt.

“Did that hurt?” You nod towards the largest dip in the steel.

He looks down at his left side, around the area between his upper ribs. “Couldn’t even feel it.”

“Of course not,” you wave, returning your attention back to the pages.

“I see you are interested in…” Fukuzawa leans over the table, peering at the emboldened titles of each tome. “Yokohama politics, history, and culture?”

“The pen is mightier than the sword, as they say,” you muse. “And a bright mind is far mightier than those stumbling blind in the darkness of their own ignorance.”

“I do wish more members of the court shared that sentiment. It would certainly make my migraines less frequent.”

You faintly recall the term from a book you finished earlier. “The… inner court?”

“The very same. A parliamentary round table of aristocrats and representatives, headed by the Four Noble Houses.”

“The Four Noble Houses? You mean…” You cringe, an unpleasant memory resurfacing.

Fukuzawa’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Ah, yes. I recall a certain purple-faced duke drenched in the colours of His Majesty’s most favoured cabernet sauvignon.”

You smile sheepishly. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“Formally? Yes.”

You groan and drop your head in your hands.

Fukuzawa lays a palm on your shoulder and gives you a gentle pat.

“But reasonably? Absolutely not. He deserved ten times worse than what he got.”

“Someone needed to stand up to him,” you point out.

“Sadly, there are not many people who can.”

You sigh at that and go back to your research. The moment you set your eyes back on the book, the pages in front of you begin to blur and mesh into a whirlpool of ink.

“Maybe it is time for a break…” you murmur.

Fukuzawa leans forward and studies your fatigued expression.

“What have you learned so far?”

You snort. “You mean other than our sordid history? The decades of hatred and conflict brewing between our countries?”

“Ah, yes. Besides that fun little facet of our politics.”

You run through the miles of information you had just absorbed, each little bit coming together piece by piece to paint a very clear picture of the modern world—one where mystic abilities, gods of old, and monsters coexist in disharmony.

‘Abilities’ as you have come to know them, are practically non-existent among the lower caste in the Northern Empire. The only ones who wield them are of noble blood, aside from the rare few commoners—unfortunate individuals who would be executed for merely holding power outside of their status. Even then, barely anyone manifests one. In recent years, the only ability-user you know of is Chuuya.

In Yokohama, these powers are respected, admired, and much more plentiful. In your textual observations, it is noted that the military and governing leaders are chosen for their abilities.

“Hm… what is yours?”

You are curious. What sort of fate-bending, death-defying power could this seasoned warrior have?

“Mine?”

“Your ability. You must have one, being the head of such an elite corps.”

“My ability…” he pauses.

You raised a teasing brow. “What? You’re not going to tell me?”

“Just considering the risks of doing so. You have proven yourself to be both smart and deceitful. A deadly combination.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?” You place a hand on your chest in mock offence, scoffing in indignation.

Fukuzawa laughs—that familiar smooth rumble that you have come to find placating. “Would I be wise to?”

“Of course not.” You wave a dismissive hand. “But you should tell me anyway because I am curious and stubborn and will likely find out on my own regardless.”

The general’s gaze is filled with a kind of warmth that is unknown to you, only interrupted by a flicker of a melancholy that twists his expression momentarily." It happens so fast you almost mistake it for a trick of the light.

“You remind me so much of her…” He mumbles under his breath so softly you pass it off as a whisper of the wind. “Very well. I will tell you.”

The sun has all but disappeared from the horizon, the shimmering moon slipping in its place. The dark, glittering night falls onto Fukuzawa’s features beautifully, making him seem a little more weathered and a little less mundane as he explains his decidedly non-mundane powers.

“It allows me to control my soldiers’ own abilities. I am able to manipulate their capabilities, help navigate their potential, and expand the boundaries of what they can do. That is my ability,” he explains.

You mull over Fukuzawa’s words, a bit surprised at the nature of it all. The powerfully built military veteran looks at you like he knows what you are thinking—knows that you are confused on why someone with his battle prowess has such a passive skill.

“You forget, Your Highness, that before I am a warrior, I am first and foremost a leader. Without my men, I am nothing, and without me, many of those men would not have survived until now,” he states. He says it like a fact, and perhaps in some ways, it is. It makes more sense the longer you think on it, his ability is almost perfectly suited to his position. You wonder what yours would be if you manifested one. What about Dazai? Would his ability reflect bloodthirst and coldness? Or would it be the opposite of what you know him as?

You make a mental note to come back to that question later, and direct your attention back to the conversation at hand.

“[Name],” you correct.

Fukuzawa blinks. “Sorry?”

“You called me ‘Your Highness’ just now.”

“I apologize. Force of habit,” he drops his head in a slight bow and the moonlight streaming through the open windows reflects off his gray hair, transforming it into a silver mane.

Fukuzawa apologizes to you a lot, like a father fumbling for words in front of his newborn, careful not to be anything but kind. If anything, you find it endearing. As well as a little… disappointing.

“General.”

Fukuzawa’s smile drops at your change in tone. The worry in his eyes is clear. “Is something wrong?”

You give him a small smile, a tad tense. “No. Not really. Though, I would like to ask you something. Would you humour me?”

“Of course. I will answer anything within reason,” he reassures.

You rest your cheek against your palm, curiosity and wariness burning bright.

“Why are you so kind to me? I know how this country views the Empire—views me. I am not blind to the scornful glances nor hidden insults thrown around. I am numb to them. But you… Kunikida… that peculiar doctor as well, you are all much too cordial with a sworn enemy. Is it pity? Some misplaced sense of duty? Or perhaps it is all fake and you are all laughing behind my back as we speak.”

Silence spreads through the empty library, the only noises are the crackling of the fireplace and the gentle swishes of the willow branch behind you. The only thing you hear is your pulse thrumming against your skull.

If Fukuzawa is taken aback by your bluntness, he does not show it. Despite only knowing you for this short period of time, he is probably already used to your brusque manner of speech. He folds his hands in front of him and leans backward, taking some time to come up with a suitable answer. You can practically see the gears turning in that head of his.

A few moments pass before he finally speaks in a serious, yet gentle, voice.

“Do you think yourself undeserving of our respect?”

You shake your head and answer: “Not at all. I am only surprised you would willingly impart it to me.”

“I cannot speak on Sir Kunikida or Dr. Yosano’s behalf—although, I imagine they share the same thoughts—but I am kind to you because it is common sense. I am kind to you because I am honoured to serve under your reign,” Fukuzawa assures. His expression softens. “I am truly sorry about the harassment you have had to endure. I will do my best to keep them in check, but if it happens again, do not be afraid to use your status. You are their ruler. Do not let them forget it.”

A lump forms in your throat and you force yourself to swallow it down. The support eases your heart, but the anxiety does not fully disappear, nor does the cold tingle of resentment in your chest. They probably never will. For now, you will accept his words, but with caution, as you are still very much in enemy territory. You will need to lead with your mind to survive, not your heart.

And Fukuzawa? The gentle general is merely a stepping stone, not a friend.

“I… am grateful. Tha—”

“General Fukuzawa!” In a very familiar fashion, the doors to the library burst open to reveal a man, effectively cutting you off.

Kunikida stands beneath the frame, face alarmingly red and breaths coming out in short, laboured puffs. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Fukuzawa grimacing.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?.” The minister spits out each word with barely contained anger—more accusation than actual question.

“Chief Minister.” Fukuzawa bows and slowly inches himself towards the door, closer and closer to the fuming blonde. “I see you are… upset.”

Kunikida’s eye twitches. “Upset? Upset?!” His voice hits an impressive octave and you briefly wonder if he’s ever considered a career in opera. He certainly has the knack for it.

“I—”

“The outdoor arena is on fire.”

The general clears his throat.

“Right. I did tell them not to try out those new techniques without me around, though His Majesty’s soldiers were never ones to adhere to the rules.”

“A black hole opened up in the ceiling and swallowed three stable boys. They were… fully nude when they fell out an hour later.”

Fukuzawa blinks.

“That’s… new.”

“You have five seconds,” Kunikida says flatly.

“Well. Duty calls. I shall have to put out some fires… er… literally.” Fukuzawa makes his way to the open doors and is about to leave when he adds: “Have a wonderful night, [name].”

“Good luck,” you laugh.

He gives you a small wave before disappearing down the hall.

You turn your attention to Kunikida who is now slightly less red, though still glowing a nice shade of pink.

“Good evening, Chief Minister. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask.

“I am here to bring you to dinner service. Perhaps you have forgotten? You seem to be engrossed in our literary offerings,” he answers plainly.

Kunikida stays standing, but has walked further into the room, hands clasped behind him as he studies the books you chose with furrowed eyebrows.

“I enjoy reading. Is that such a crime?”

“I am only surprised you were able to find this place. After His Majesty banned entry, most just ignore it as they pass by.”

You cock your head to the right. “I was curious about that. Why? It is a beautiful library—a sunlit treasure trove of knowledge. I would imagine most people would be clawing at the doors for just a glance, yet it is as barren and untravelled as the deserts in the West,” you muse.

Your curiosity is only a mild interest until Kunikida’s gaze sharply turns away from yours, blatantly avoiding your poking and prodding. His averted eyes cause what little inquisitiveness you had just felt to balloon into a wave of eager investigation.

“Kunikida.”

He adjusts his glasses and nervously glances at his timepiece. “We are going to be late if—”

“Kunikida.”

He sighs, relenting.

“If nobody uses this place, why is it so well kept? There are no dirt patches or cobwebs, but the dust between pages suggests that no one has opened them for many years. ”

“If I were to make an educated guess…” Kunikida stops for a moment to think. “I would wager that His Majesty misses what it used to be, and is only trying to preserve the last of that magic. Though the memories here are much too vivid and much too painful for him to come back to.”

What it used to be…

A flicker of something… a fleeting feeling… No. A memory. At the very back of your mind—

“But I do not think he will continue to do so.”

It vanishes, and you fall back to reality, grasping at nothing and nowhere.

You shake yourself out of your daze, a bit peeved at the interruption, but curious all the same.

“Do what? Preserve this place? You believe he will let it just… crumble to ruins?”

Kunikida takes a seat and folds his gloved hands together. The lines on his forehead appear as he tenses, preparing his next words with careful precision. He works his jaw, tension releasing and forming with each movement, as if he is warring internally, fighting to either let the words out or keep it in.

You hope he chooses the former. The more information, the better.

His expression settles and a stern look replaces his calm visage. Whatever he has to say must be serious.

You catch yourself tapping the side of your thigh anxiously under the table and clamp your fingers down on your leg… hard. Your father did always say that a royal must be poised and perfect, and he made it extremely clear that such emotions were to be erased and forgotten.

And if they weren’t…

A chill runs down your spine at the memories.

“I am well aware that you are, and pardon my candor, untrustworthy.”

You almost snort. Not the first time you’ve heard that and it certainly won’t be the last.

Kunikida continues. “But I believe it is only right to tell you as His Majesty’s spouse. King Dazai is… he is…” Kunikida pauses as he fumbles for the right word.

A clock ticks. Kunikida settles on a phrase.

“Unwell. A disease of the mind and heart that has stolen his will. He is here only to serve a purpose and that purpose is not to live out the rest of his life. He exists, but for years now he has not been… here. Almost as if one wrong move and the line His Majesty balances upon disappears and takes him with it.”

Time slows. The air thickens. Are you breathing?

“Slowly but surely, he is fading away,” Kunikida pauses and swallows as he tries to work out his next words.

“Some days I believe he is better. Most days I do not allow myself to indulge in such a lie.”

—

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @letsliveagaintoday @bejeweledgirl @nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf

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cambion-companion · 2 years

Note

Heyy, can you please write smth were Aemond and reader are friends with benefits?

Of course Anon! I felt this one out and it was most comfortable in a bulleted format. And yes I did take inspiration from some Taylor Swift lyrics haha! Enjoy!

Your family would often visit the royals at King's Landing, you were still a child when you met Aemond, Helaena, Aegon and Daeron.

You and Aemond immediately hit it off, talking with enthusiasm about dragons and the history books Aemond often studied in the dusty library of the Keep.

When Aemond's eye was cut out you weren't present in King's Landing but during your next visit you noticed how different he was. More withdrawn and prone to sudden bursts of temper.

As the years wore on, your parents offered to have you stay on at King's Landing as Helaena's lady in waiting. She seemed aware of the budding feelings between you and the prince, encouraging moments where you and Aemond could snatch precious moments alone.

One day, like many others and yet somewhat different, you found Aemond studying in the library. His eye found yours as he looked up from a rather hefty leatherbound tome, "Y/N." "Aemond." You responded, tilting your head at the tone in his voice, "Is something wrong?" Aemond's long fingers tapped the surface of the oak table before he quickly pushed himself out of his seat and approached you. His hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you close, "You torment my every waking moment." His mouth was close to your ear, breath tickling your neck. You looked up at him, daring to run a finger along his jaw, and smiled. Aemond growled and brought his lips to yours in a fierce kiss. It stole the breath from your lungs and you opened your mouth to his, wanting to devour him whole. Your hands found his waist and tugged him even closer to you, he would never be close enough to satisfy you.

That day the relationship between you and Aemond changed significantly. Now more than every you two would search out quiet secluded moments to be with each other, in one another's arms, more often than not speaking very little.

The night you gave yourself to him completely he whispered, "Are you sure?" more than once, knowing the implications of what you were about to do. You sat up on your knees, the mattress creaking beneath the two of you as you faced him and took his face in your hands. "Never have I ever before been so sure of something, my dragon." You kissed him underneath where the sapphire held its place in his eye socket, then moved to place another gentle kiss under his now glistening violet eye. His lips, so familiar to you, felt like home as they searched every part of your body during the course of the night. His name tumbled from you panting mouth more than a few times with increasing volume until you were sure the whole of King's Landing knew of your love affair.

You and Aemond carried on like this for many months until Aemond brought you the news he was to be sent to Storm's End to find a bride, securing the Baratheons to the Green's side. He held you tenderly and kissed your forehead promising to return to be with you as soon as he could.

With time, all things must eventually change, but Aemond's love for you never dwindled. He would always find a way back into your arms.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond x you

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h0neylevi · 2 days

Text

House of Cards

You’re a princess to a land on the brink of war, desperate to escape the clutches of royal life. After your father promises your hand to the prince of a neighboring kingdom, you know you’ll have to take matters into your own hands if you want to escape your fate. Running is the only road to freedom. But when you abandon your home and stumble upon an old friend who has unexpected abilities, you learn that the world you’ve always longed to see is nothing like you thought.

tags: levi ackerman x reader, fantasy au, royalty au, magic, arranged marriage, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, some worldbuilding, reader has a default name, fem!reader, eventual smut

w/c: ~7.6k words

(fic ongoing, read the rest on ao3)

Chapter 1

There are three different pairs of hands on you at all times in the mornings.

One for running a comb through the damp strands of your hair, another applies a dab of honeysuckle oil to the curve of your neck. The third helps you out of your nightgown and into a long ceremonial dress.

Today’s pick is made of finely handcrafted silk, bearing a peculiar shade of burnt gold adorned with floral accents. The color sends a nervous thrill up your spine when the fabric is laid against your skin. The whispers of how lovely it looks go unacknowledged.

Sunlight filters through the tall windows, draping everything it touches in a warm glow.

Everything you could ever want resides right here in your bedchamber. The room is spacious and tastefully decorated, befitting of your status as the princess. From the age of six, there have been bookshelves lining the walls and a large oak desk for reading and writing. A large balcony overlooking the courtyard sits on the wall opposite the large four poster bed. Where other rooms in the manor fall short, this room is your sanctuary.

You stare quietly at your pliant reflection, hands fidgeting restlessly in your lap. Despite your anxiety, you allow the maids to maneuver your body this way and that without a fuss.

Every day starts more or less like this. Wake up, get dressed, attend meals with your family, and spend the afternoon studying in the manor’s library. It’s a strict regimen, but your family prefers your schedule with little deviation. If you’re lucky, you can occasionally persuade your private tutor into providing lessons in the garden on pleasant days. You’ve gotten especially good at convincing her to end them early so you can freely explore the grounds before nightfall.

Today would be a little different though, and you have yet to determine if the main emotion you feel is restlessness or dread.

The door to your chambers opens and the three maids quickly curtsy and scurry out.

Rita, your head maid, quickly takes their place behind your reflection. Through square-framed glasses, she gives your appearance a scrutinizing once over. Her hands come to rest on your shoulders with a gentle squeeze.

“Good morning, Rita.”

“Good morning, Your Highness,” she replies in a husky voice. “Today is a big day. I see the others were on top of their duties this morning.”

She combs her fingers through your hair thoughtfully and you feel your shoulders relax a little.

“The dress is a bit much, don’t you think?” you ask, hardly able to keep the look of distaste at bay. At least you weren’t yet of the age to require the stiff cinching of a corset, but you miss the comforts of simple cotton and less restrictive materials that were often chosen for you as a child.

“Your mother picked it out herself,” Rita responds politely. Two of her fingers idly trace the orate pattern stitched into the fabric. “You don’t like it?”

You can take a guess as to why she chose it. It’s the same tawny color that adorns the royal crest of the northern kingdom of Sondaria—the lithe fox, representing the reigning Yeager family of the neighboring nation.

Today is the day they are expected to arrive. Today is the day that everything changes.

“She’s just never asked me to dress up like this before,” you point out. “I like my other dresses just fine.”

Rita holds back her smile in the mirror. Carefully, she begins combing your hair back into her hands.

“They’ll only be here for a few days,” she tries to reason. “You’re not going back with them yet.”

Yet.

Tacking on that word feels like a threat no matter how neutrally Rita delivers it. Even if you have a few more years left, it’ll never be enough time to come to terms with an arrangement you never wanted.

While the King and Queen of Sondaria were always cordial enough, they usually visited for reasons concerning both kingdoms, like trade routes or border security. This time would be slightly different. Their son, Zeke, would also be joining them for the first time.

There’s very little you know about him other than that he’s only a couple of years older than you. Nevertheless, as the princess, you’re expected to entertain him for the duration of their stay. As your father would say, maintaining friendly relations between your two nations depends on it.

“Would you like braids again today?” Rita asks.

Does it matter?

“Yes, please,” you reply.

Your father and mother, the King and Queen of Orenfeld, are already waiting for you in the courtyard once you’re finished getting ready.

It’s a beautiful spring day—the perfect sort of day to welcome company. The sun hangs high in a cloudless blue sky, its warmth cancelling out the light breeze that tickles the hem of your dress.

Rita leads you by the hand down the stairs and passed the neatly trimmed gardens to where your family stands. She leaves with a quick curtsy once you’re at your mother’s side, casting you one last look that says behave before re-entering the manor.

“Oh, that looks beautiful on you, Victoria.” With bright eyes and shiny chestnut hair, your mother beams proudly at her choice and returns her attention to your father. “Darling, doesn’t she look precious?”

He hums a sound of acknowledgment but doesn’t spare you a glance, too focused on the large white carriage that’s already rapidly approaching in the distance.

Hands clasped behind his back, he looks every bit the imposing former commander of Orenfeld’s army in his decorated uniform. The medals awarded to him for bravery and honor sparkle against the viridian green trimmed with gold that make the royal colors.

Thanks to his leadership and the leadership of his father before him, Orenfeld has achieved peace for a generation. But recent events have spurred pockets of unrest in the nation’s territories and abroad. You know that much from the late nights he spends pacing in his office.

Somehow, he seems to wear none of the mental anguish it causes on his face. The only indication that he’s aged at all are the subtle shades of grey dotting the hair around his temples.

The handsome carriage approaches and slows to a stop. Two attendants quickly usher forward to open the doors.

The first one to climb out is King Grisha himself.

Dressed in a long grey overcoat and tall brown boots, he extends a gloved hand to your father first. His long brown hair is neatly pinned back out of his face, revealing his sharp features.

“Good to see you, Grisha.” Your father greets him warmly with a clap on the back. “I trust the journey here went smoothly.”

“Ah, well we’re all in good spirits now,” Grisha replies cordially. “Hopefully we haven’t brought the northern wind and rain with us.”

You tune out their conversation, curtsying politely when Queen Dina approaches you and your mother. She’s dressed in a thick wool dress that ends just below her knees and an over coat trimmed in black and red fur. When she smiles, her red tinted lips stretch wide to reveal pearly white teeth.

A young boy of about fifteen walks by her side. He stands tall and proud in a fitted black coat with two shiny silver buttons on the lapel. When he approaches, he lowers his head into a modest bow, letting his shaggy blonde hair fall into his eyes.

He smiles, not unlike the open toothy way that his mother does and brings your knuckles to his lips. The gesture makes your stomach somersault with nerves.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I’m Zeke Yeager.”

You curtsy mostly to appease your mother’s watchful eyes. “Good morning, your grace. Please, call me Victoria.”

He’s a few inches taller than you, forcing you to properly look up to meet his eyes. At first glance, they’re warm and kind, if not filled with a quiet sort of curiosity. As far as first impressions go, you decide that he could be a worse houseguest. But only time would tell how warmly you’d eventually receive one another as husband and wife.

He seems to mirror your thoughts, sizing you up until he gives you a practiced grin, then retrieves a small box from his coat pocket. Acutely, you can feel the rapt attention of your mother and Queen Dina as they watch on.

”In recognition of my first visit to Orenfeld,” he says. “I would be honored if you would accept this gift as a token of my appreciation.”

Zeke opens the box and outstretches his hands for you to inspect it.

Inside is a dainty silver bracelet, expertly woven into intricate spirals and adorned with glittering red jewels that emit a brilliant shimmer in the sunlight.

Your breath falters at the sight. It’s a beautiful piece of jewelry, but no one had prepared you for the probability of receiving gifts. However, you know well enough to understand that this will likely be the first gift of many over the course of your courtship. Still, it doesn’t quell the surge of anxiety you feel at the offering.

Wordlessly, you glance in your mother’s direction. She raises her brows when your eyes meet and gives you an encouraging nod.

”This is beautiful, your grace,” you tell him. Your fingers carefully ghost over the swirls in the design. “Thank you.”

Your hands curl to accept it, but Zeke quickly turns the box in his palm.

“May I?” He asks without a hint of apprehension.

Seeing no alternative, you offer your hand, allowing him to fasten the bracelet gently around your wrist and close the clasp. His fingertips gently skim over your skin, barely there. Then, he pulls away.

It’s a little oversized. Snug enough that it won’t fall off, but this is the sort of jewelry that you suspect you’ll grow into. No doubt you’ll be expected to wear it for any further visits to the manor that the Yeagers make at the very least.

You admire the way that the jewels sparkle in the light for a moment, captivated until you realize that everyone is waiting for a reaction.

Remembering yourself, you bend into a polite curtsy again. The atmosphere relaxes, allowing everyone to return back to their previous discussions, pleased that it went well.

Breakfast is already prepared when the six of you re-enter the manor, the table arranged with six individual sets of dishes. Your father takes the seat at the head of the table, with your mother and Grisha to his left and right respectively. Queen Dina sits beside her husband, who is seated across from you, and Zeke takes the seat beside her.

Steaming plates of roasted root vegetables and seasoned meats sit in the center of the table, surrounded by eggs, toast, and an assortment of small fruit cakes. Next to a bowl of sliced fruit sits a freshly brewed pot of tea.

You give the spread a dubious look. All of the excitement has your stomach feeling the size of a walnut.

“This looks wonderful,” Grisha says, delighted as his eyes scan over the selection. “I always look forward to the meals here, though the three weeks journeying from Sondaria might have something to do with that.”

Your father chuckles and motions with his left hand. “I’m sure the staff will no doubt pass the compliment along to our chef.”

The servants quickly move in to bustle around, plating dishes and filling glasses with tea and juice. You thank them at each turn, feeling guilty that your plate will mostly go to waste.

Easy chatter fills the hall once everyone has been served and the last member of the waitstaff closes the door behind them.

Your father and Grisha seem to get straight to business, falling into a murmured discussion about recent international events. Less interested, and perhaps even to serve as a distraction from the more serious talk, Dina strikes up a conversation about their stay with your mother.

“Should be beautiful weather for the time you’re here,” your mother tells her.

“I am hoping so,” Dina nods, cutting into her serving of fowl and taking a bite. She chews slowly and follows it with a sip of tea. “Zeke has been looking forward to this trip, so I thought I’d take him sightseeing tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Your mother’s eyes turn to him in surprise. “What have you been looking forward to the most?”

Across the table, Zeke manages a humble smile beneath the rim of his glass.

“Well I attend Sondaria Military Academy,” he explains. “I’ve learned a lot about Orenfeld and its armed forces.”

Bringing her attention to you now, your mother gestures in your direction. “Victoria would be happy to show you around the manor. There’s plenty to see about Orenfeld’s military achievements in the library and the gallery room.”

You perk up at being addressed and nod, looking at Zeke. “Do you plan to join Sondaria’s military?”

“It’s a bit of a tradition in my family,” he confirms with a quick glance to his father. He straightens his shoulders before adding, “I’ll be able to join as captain in a few years time.”

You wonder what attending an academy must be like, walking to individual classrooms and making friends. Attending school with others is an idea that’s completely foreign to you. Since you’ve been of the age to begin reading and writing, you’ve always taken your lessons in solitude at the manor.

Some days, it feels more like a cage than a home.

Your eyes shift back down to the silver buttons on his coat, wondering if they might have been merits from school, but you don’t bother asking in favor of returning your attention to your meal.

“It’s a pity my brother isn’t here then,” you tell him with a gentle smile. “He’s just been appointed as lieutenant in Orenfeld’s army so he’s usually too busy for visits these days, but I’m sure he’d love to talk to you about his experience.”

When Theo left for official training after his fourteenth birthday, grief swallowed a significant portion of your heart. He had been a bastion of hope and a close friend as much as he was a brother. The most you receive these days are a few hastily written letters asking how your studies are coming along, but you don’t resent him for it. He has a difficult job, and your parents were always going to place more responsibility on his shoulders than your own.

Zeke’s brows raise, impressed. “Well, I would be pleased to meet him some day.”

“Would you like to join us tomorrow?” Dina cuts in, addressing the question to you.

You glance up from your plate with a look of surprise. It had been several years since you were allowed to leave the manor. Any attempts thus far to persuade your parents to accompany them on the rare trip away was always met with stern refusal.

Even looking at your mother now, her mouth has formed into a frown at the suggestion.

“I don't think—“

“Can I go?” you interrupt. “Please?”

She doesn’t immediately refuse, a hesitation that you intend to exploit to the fullest extent.

“I’ll be careful,” you’re quick to promise, abandoning your fork on your plate.

“We’ll only be going to Ilyesia for the day,” Dina supplies as if that will help. “We won’t be far, and we’ll take a guard.”

At last, the reminder that you’ll be with a trusted guard seems to chip away at her objections. She turns to your father.

“Andrew, darling.” Her voice is soft and placating, pulling your father mid-sentence from whatever debate he was having with Grisha. He turns. “Dina and Zeke would like Victoria to join them on a trip to Ilyesia tomorrow.”

For the first time all morning, your father’s eyes meet your own. It feels like you shrink to only an inch tall as his brows knit together into a hard stare. Regardless of what anyone else thinks, whatever he says goes. So, you attempt to not look too pleading and desperate as he thinks.

Finally, he sighs and casts an ambivalent look to the Yeager family. “You’ll take Mike with you.”

Mike, your father’s personal guard, stands a bit taller from his place against the wall behind your father’s seat. Having been placed under direct orders of the king for several years, some would say he’s the man that your father trusts the most.

But you know that his working proximity to your father also means that he’ll have a firsthand account of anything that doesn’t satisfy him.

Regardless, you’re elated. And even the stoic facade of your father’s expression relaxes a little when you smile and offer him a sincere ‘thank you’.

On any normal day, the time after breakfast would be reserved for retreating into the study to attend school work, but you’re given the afternoon off on the condition that you give Zeke a tour.

You start in the larger main rooms of the first floor and make your way through, stopping occasionally to explain the various portraits of your family that line the walls in the massive gallery room. Zeke follows you patiently, but you get a sense quite quickly that the brief history lesson isn’t necessary.

You point to a large portrait in the center of one wall, bearing the depiction of a portly man with a pointed goatee and a stern expression. “This one is—“

“Rudolph the Benevolent. Your great grandfather and 20th King of Orenfeld. I believe he died of pneumonia, correct?”

“…Yes, I think so.”

He points at another portrait nearby, this one of a woman in full regal dress. A crown sits perched atop her dark curls. “And this one is his mother, Matilda. The Bloody Queen. She personally orchestrated the massacre of three hundred Sondarian soldiers on Christmas Day.”

You blanch. While nothing of what he said was incorrect, you’re surprised he’s willing to bring up old wounds. If Zeke harbors any ill-intent by the statement though, it isn’t evident in his tone. His posture is relaxed, hands resting at his sides as he observes the painting with a quiet sort of contemplation.

Not sure how to respond, you pivot the conversation.

“You sure know a lot about Orenfeld’s history.”

“I have to know about it. They drill it into us at the academy,” Zeke explains, turning his attention away from the painting to stare at an empty space on the adjoining wall.

He points. “Was there a painting here as well?”

You follow his line of sight and nod. “That’s where the commissioned painting of my father’s council was displayed before it was disbanded.”

Realization seems to settle onto his face. “Ah. Yes, we learned about that too.”

You don’t know very much about the incident, but you’ve heard others speak of it in fleeting, hushed tones. It isn’t something your father likes reminiscing about, and for good reason.

Looking for a more lighthearted change of scenery, you lead the way out to the sprawling gardens overlooked by the west facing wing of the manor. It’s lush and overgrown in the spring, the air heavy with the perfume of roses and lilies.

Bees and other insects flit about overhead, but you pay them no mind as you lead the way. Zeke follows closely—though you’re hardly rushing—falling in step with you with his hands clasped behind his back.

Even with your ambivalent feelings surrounding his arrival, it’s admittedly nice being around someone else your age without worrying about the watchful eye of your parents. There’s only one other child on the grounds, the chef’s son, and your friendship with him had always been met with obvious scorn at being friendly with a commoner. Despite everything, the two of you had managed to become quite close.

These days, you assumed your father simply turned a blind eye, even if the boy’s recent appointment as a knight’s page seemed like an awfully convenient way of keeping him busy.

When you come to the large courtyard nestled in the heart of the gardens, you take a seat on the large stone reservoir of the fountain. Zeke wanders the perimeter of nearby bushes, more casual in his movements now that you’re alone and the formalities are unnecessary.

You watch him with idle interest, uncertain if he’s actually eager to get acquainted or if he feels just as neutral about the arrangement as you do. Sparks haven’t exactly flown so much as they’ve failed to ignite altogether, but that isn’t entirely his fault.

If you had your way, you wouldn’t be required to marry anyone. But like everything else, this arrangement has already been decided for you, so you reluctantly try to play along.

“I’m looking forward to seeing Ilyesia with you tomorrow,” you tell him over the blubbering noise of the fountain. It’s at least a partially true statement.

Zeke walks to a nearby rose bush and cradles a drooping bloom in his palm, too heavy to hold itself up. “My mother told me they keep you locked away here.” He drops the bloom and turns. “Have you really never been before?”

You shake your head. “I’m not allowed to leave the manor grounds.”

“Ever?” His brows knit like the idea perplexes him. You don’t know him well enough to know for sure, but his tone seems to drip with condescension. “Have you never seen your own kingdom then?”

“Only when I was too young to remember it well,” you reply. “After the attempt on my father’s life, he’s found it difficult to trust anyone. He says it’s easier than putting me in danger.”

“It’s a shame about what happened,” he agrees. “Finding a traitor hiding right under his nose surely must have made him question everything.”

You nod as the air grows silent. A light breeze passes through, creating a swirl of fallen rose petals in different hues that shuffle across the courtyard.

When Zeke finally joins you, he sits by your side. His hands fold together in his lap, and you watch as he seems to stare at them for a moment in deep thought. When he turns to you, you see the deep blue of his eyes, flecked with shards of amber in the sun. It makes him look quite charming in a boyish way with his shaggy blonde hair.

“It won’t be like that in Sondaria,” he tells you with a disarming smile. “We’re free to come and go as we please, and you’ll be appointed a guard to accompany you.”

The concept feels incredibly foreign, but it doesn’t stop the surge of hope that fills your chest at the prospect. As much as you would miss the familiarity of the manor and the warmth of the Orenfeldian sun, the promise of personal independence did sweeten the deal a bit. Even if you had to endure Zeke. If he was the worst of it, he might exceed your expectations.

“You’ll be safe with us tomorrow,” he adds, and he reaches to place a gentle hand over your own. The touch surprises you. And though it isn’t entirely welcome, his hold feels warm and soft. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Victoria.”

———

“Again.”

Swords collide with a sharp sound, metal brutally scraping against metal. Fractured sunlight glints off of the smooth surface of both blades. They slide apart again in unison.

“Good, again.”

The sword in Levi’s hand is heavy. They’ve been at this for hours now in the stifling heat, going over various maneuvers and fighting techniques until the movements feel like second nature.

To an outside eye, it may even look like a sort of dance. Perfectly choreographed so to not actually hurt one another, the goal is simply to get Levi used to handling himself with a weapon.

His opponent—his knight—Erwin Smith settles into his stance. The man bends his knees slightly, fixes Levi with a competitive stare, then brings both hands together to swing his blade overhead.

Levi’s seen this move before. It’s a means to overwhelm your opponent with solid brute strength. With nearly a foot of extra height on him and a fair share of muscle to match, it should be an easy task. And it would be if Levi were anyone else.

Even at only fifteen years of age, he’s able to handle sparring with experienced adults. It had been a struggle at first to convince Erwin that he was worthy of becoming an apprentice, but it only took one trial run with a small dagger to see that Levi had more than enough promise as a future knight.

With sweaty hands, Levi grips the hilt firmly and swings, blocking the oncoming assault.

The force behind Erwin’s movement is halted, and Levi has just enough time to glance up and see a proud glimmer of satisfaction light up his opponent’s eyes.

Erwin’s chest heaves with an exhale. “Good job, Levi.”

Gathering what’s left of his strength, Levi grits his teeth and shoves him back.

When they step apart again, he sees you hovering by the gate, watching with rapt interest.

Erwin turns to follow Levi's line of sight, smiling a knowing smile.

“It seems you have a visitor,” he breathes, jutting his chin upward.

Erwin sheaths his sword, making the plates of his training armor collide together. “We’ll end here for today. Have your blade sharpened and the horses prepared for tomorrow. We’ll meet back here after breakfast.”

They share a nod and the blonde man excuses himself, passing you with a polite bow of his head.

You approach and Levi busies himself, sheathing his sword and gathering his belongings into a small leather bag that’s lying open on the ground. From inside it, he retrieves a canteen of water, takes a long drink, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

When he turns, his eyes sweep passively over your face, then down to the dress you're wearing. He never bows in greeting—hasn’t done so in the years since you first became acquainted. It’s one of the things you like so much about him. To Levi, you’re a friend first and a princess second.

You smile at his thoughtful expression. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Levi shakes his head, taking another drink of water. "Just looks like you've rolled around in a field."

You purse your lips, but the expression is tight from having to hold your grin. "And you look like you've just gone for a swim in the pond," you say, reaching to ruffle the strands of his hair that have laid awkwardly over his damp forehead.

With a scowl, he swats your hand away. “Shouldn’t you be entertaining your guests?”

“They’re getting ready for dinner,” you reply. Truthfully, you should be doing the same, but you couldn’t resist a quick stroll by the training yard first. “I came to see how your training was going.”

He shrugs. “It’s been fine.”

"According to the staff, it's been going better than just fine."

"You know they have nothing else better to do than gossip," Levi says, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. With a small tilt of his head, he gestures to a nearby walking path. "Want to go to the tree?"

The tree is an ancient oak that grows on one edge of the Mordonian Forest. It overlooks a large pond that sits sandwiched between the manor and a section of the tree line. Over the years, it has become a bit of an improvised base for when you’re looking to not be spotted by the manor staff.

You nod. "Sure."

It’s peaceful when you get there, just like it always is. The lush green grass blows gently in the breeze, and when you plant yourself on the soft earth near the water, you can smell the sweet perfume of the flowering buds of nearby fruit trees. A couple of birds titter and sing overhead, jumping playfully from branch to branch.

Levi drops his things by the roots of the large tree, and when he joins you, you sit side by side and take a moment to watch insects skitter across the smooth surface of the pond.

You like coming out here with Levi. From this distance, you still see the elegant shape of the manor’s fourth and final floor, but it’s far enough away to permit a degree of privacy.

The sun is still bright and warm on your skin, so you take a moment to close your eyes and tilt your head toward the sky.

Then Levi’s voice punctures the silence.

“How did meeting the prince go?”

“It was fine.” You outstretch your legs in front of you, leaning back onto your hands to bask a bit more in the sunshine. Blades of grass settle between your spread fingers and you release a deep sigh. “Zeke’s nice enough. A bit of a know-it-all, but he is a crown prince.”

“Yeah, most royal types are usually like that,” he agrees, offering a playful glance your way. His tone is lighthearted but you pout just as he expects you to, allowing him the chance to press his fingers over your knit brows. “Don't whine, I said usually.”

The look on your face smooths from mock offense to genuine laughter.

His gaze lingers on you, but he isn’t looking at you for any particular reason when he spots the bracelet on your wrist. You make a move to tuck a strand of hair out of your face, and once the shimmering thing catches his eye, he can’t help but ask about it.

His fingers reach to gently lift your wrist to eye level, tracing the ornate jewels with his thumb. “What’s this?”

”Oh,” you respond like you’ve already forgotten about it. “A gift.”

Though you don’t say from who, the implication is clear enough by the way your voice goes a little more somber in tone.

His brows raise. “You’ve just met and he’s giving you gifts already?”

You shift in your spot a little, refocusing your gaze to a flock of birds flying overhead.

“Well,” you begin, and Levi hangs onto the sound of your voice, still as a statue beside you. “Today was just a formality.”

Levi’s head tilts slightly, eyes never leaving you. He doesn’t like the implication in the tone you take, like something’s been hidden right under his nose. It’s not often that he’s taken by surprise.

What you say next only makes the feeling worse.

“We’ll be married in a few years, so this visit was more about having us officially meet than anything else.”

Quietly, he imagines what the prince must be like--all charming smiles and excessive confidence that comes with being born into royalty. The exact opposite of someone like him. A chasm forms in his stomach at the thought.

Levi looks down, focusing on a blade of grass twirled around his finger.

“Oh.” He uproots the grass with a rough tug and tosses it to the side. “Are you leaving then?”

You turn to him, not entirely surprised to see him staring pensively over the water’s surface.

“Not yet,” you say. “Once I turn 18, I’ll be sent to live with them. The wedding will be immediately after.”

Four years. That finality gradually sinks into place. It’s an odd feeling, knowing that your friendship will cease to be in such a short amount of time. Not even your sway as princess would be able to help. Once you’re gone, it’s doubtful he’ll ever see you again.

Feeling a bit winded, Levi lays back and stares up into the sky. A long beat of silence settles in as you begin to pick anxiously at the grass next to him. Dread sinks into his stomach like lead.

“Do you like him?” he finally asks.

You snort, casting a glance at him from over your shoulder. “Does it really matter?”

“Of course it matters.” His response comes out so quickly that it even takes him by surprise. "You should at least be with someone you like. It's the rest of your life."

You turn away again, back to the steady surface of the pond and the swaying grass.

Political marriages weren’t exactly uncommon, particularly for royalty. Even your own parents had been arranged by your grandfather on your mother’s side, seeking the prestige of your father’s reputation and status as the future king. They were just lucky to also be compatible. Thinking back on the few interactions you’d had with Zeke, you didn’t think you were going to be so fortunate.

“I don’t really have much of a choice,” you say, voice small. “You know how these sorts of things go.”

Levi’s knee bends in your peripheral, pointed to the sky but he doesn’t move to sit up. “So, that's a no then?” You hear a click of his tongue in disappointment. "You shouldn't let them control your life like that."

It’s your turn to drop down beside him onto the lush grass. With your shoulders brushing, you close your eyes for a moment and take in a long breath.

"I wish I could, Levi. If I had things my way, you and I..." You pause, heat blooming over your cheeks. "We'd see the world together."

For a moment, it grows so silent that you're sure he's able to hear your heart thrashing in your chest.

"Don't be stupid," Levi finally replies. "You'd get us lost before we even hit the coast."

With a laugh, you roll onto your side. "I'm serious!" The look Levi gives you when you meet his gaze is unreadable, making your confidence waver slightly. "You wouldn't want to do that with me?"

"I never said I wouldn't want to," he points out. "Only that your navigation skills would end with us on the other side of the world."

"Well, that's why you're invited."

The corner of his mouth twitches into a grin. "Oh, is that right?"

"Mhm."

The two of you fall into an easy silence then, watching the clouds together overhead as they slowly drift across the pale blue sky.

Only something feels fundamentally different following your teasing. It isn't awkward--at least not considerably--to realize that in your own way, you've admitted that you'd choose him if given the chance. You wonder if Levi understands what you mean. He hasn't moved, and you can't be certain if it's your senses or wishful thinking, but you think his hand is resting right next to yours. It would be easy to take it and make sure that he knows. After all, he had been the one to say that you should be with someone you like.

But before you can decide if you want to take that leap, Levi does it for you.

“There’s still time before you’ll have to marry him.”

You turn your head at the sound of his voice. It's grown softer now, more thoughtful.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Levi chews the inside of his cheek. A nervous jolt of energy forces him up, scanning over the tree line on the other side of the pond. Eventually, he sends you a look over his shoulder. "Don't say anything to anyone about what I'm about to tell you, okay?"

A little confused, you nod.

“Have you ever heard of the Ackermans?” he asks after a moment.

“Ackermans?” You think back, unable to recall ever hearing it. The name doesn’t immediately ring any bells. “No, I don’t think so.”

Bringing his knees closer to his chest, Levi leans his elbows against them. “That’s my family name. We weren’t royalty or anything, but we were a noble family.”

You focus on the deliberate use of past tense. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head, “but that’s why I want to become a knight.” Levi pauses, suddenly a little apprehensive. “And then you and I could…”

He trails off, but you can gather enough of what he says to decipher what he means.

You quickly lift yourself back up, knocking Levi’s knee with your own in the process. He leans back a little to give you more space.

There’s a sincerity in his gaze, bleeding through that perfectly crafted air of indifference that Levi always maintains. It gives you a sudden rush of foolhardy confidence.

“If you think I should have a say,” you begin in a cautious tone, forcing yourself to hold his stare despite the intense racketing of your heart, “then will you kiss me?”

Levi blinks once. Twice. For a long moment, he appears completely frozen in place, with his breath caught in his lungs until he finally remembers to exhale.

He’s stuck in a moment of rare bashfulness, taken completely off guard.

Finally, he swallows, looking from you to the grass beneath his palms and back again. “Is that what you want?”

Somehow, your smile doesn’t quiver with nerves. “Yes.”

Cautiously, you both lean in until there’s barely an inch of space between your lips. Levi’s palm comes to rest on your knee. The weight of it sears through the fine silk and fear strikes, reminding you that you’ve never done this before. But if you’re allowed the power to choose some things, there’s no one else you’d rather experience this with for the first time.

When he finally closes that last bit of space, you expect it to feel like the way they describe it in romance novels. As if time will stop and everything else around you will cease to exist.

The butterflies explode in your stomach the moment you feel the weight of his lips on yours. Neither of you make a move to pull away immediately, lingering long enough to mesh and form against one another in a way that makes your skin feel electrified. Not conscious of it, you move your body closer and Levi exhales through his nose. You break apart, but only for a fraction of a second to readjust before you’re kissing him again.

It’s chaste, never going beyond a simple pressing of lips, but it leaves you breathless all the same. Levi looks as dazed as you feel when you finally pull away. He’s left feeling delightfully swept under by the subtle honeysuckle fragrance still clinging to your skin.

At some point, your hands had managed to find one another. They rest together atop his thigh, and Levi can feel the tremble in your fingers as they slip between his own.

He knows it’s selfish, but he leans forward again.

“Levi!”

The call of his name causes you to both scramble apart. Even though the voice isn’t close enough to be concerning, you both hurry to get to your feet, struggling to snap back to reality.

Head still spinning, Levi retrieves his bag again while you quickly dust off the blades of grass stuck to your dress.

“That’s my mom.” Levi clears his throat and runs an anxious hand through his hair. “She’s probably wondering where I am.”

“Yeah,” you say, taking a steadying breath. That electrified feeling of his lips on yours is still there. You don’t want to leave, but you’re expected to return back to your bedchamber before dinner. “Rita’s probably looking for me too. We should go.”

Everything goes quiet for a moment before Levi takes a step toward you. There’s a new fondness in his gaze, barely perceptible but undeniably there. It springs forth a fresh flurry in your stomach that threatens to crowd your throat.

He wants to reach for you, but instead his fists squeeze the strap of his bag a little tighter.

“Meet me back here after dinner tomorrow, okay?”

Grinning, you hurry to join him on the path back to the manor. “Yeah, I’ll see you back here tomorrow.”

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x fem!reader #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman #aot fic

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starshinedragon · 1 year

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SSO: LIFE WARDENS The magic trees of Jorvik

Main tree: Jordrassil in the Jorcrater -> The Crater is where the first pandorian contact happened, Aideen met the centaurs -> She combined the 3 magics (Light, Earth, Pandorian) and fought Garnok. -> Jordrassil is the first tree, manifestation of Aideen’s life powers. -> Also the place where she dispersed, gave up her light and souls to the creatures of the island -> Master portal- planted many other trees on the island, so she can get around quicky in the war. -> Jordrassil has the strongest hints of Aideen’s light (other than MC) would be a top prize for G to corrupt

Life Wardens: Primeival trees -> Fast travel system, their roots for portals after saying the right incantation. -> From Jordrassil you can fast travel to ANY (living, friendly) tree -> From other trees only to the next in the network -> Guarding and strengthening any magic: Aideen’s or Garnok’s if corrupted. -> They can be awakened and speak, have different personalities.

1. Harvestlands: -> Sleeping Widow: Forgotten Fields. Helped Lisa, 1st one we meet. Wants to reconnect with the other Trees. Protective of the little one also growing in the Forgotten fields. -> Golden Lady: Scarecrow Hill. Grows Golden Apples, which are pure Aideen/Light power. Neighbors and best friends with the Widow. -> Ancient Sentinel: Wildwoods. Protected by the Wild Horse tribes. There is a pandorian rift underwater in the lake, through which Pandorian magic seeps through, infects the area. We close it when Garnok fully corrupts Pandoria and manage to prevent the Sentinel from being corrupted. -> Singing Yew: South Hoof. Helped Justin. Slumbering in the fields, the winds blowing through the branches make a song. -> Silent Poplar: Firgrove Mountain. Very mysterious. Turns out a hundred years ago he was corrupted and almost lost to the darkness, but they used the cleansing ritual to save him. -> Hidden Willow: Fort Maria. Hiding underground in a cave, guarding the library. The first place we go when we unlock the Tree Portal fast travel system. Guards the knowledge about the Life Wardens.

2. Winterdale -> Fire Glory: Ashland. Red pine, likes the warmth there, very lively, constantly talks about how much she likes the warm and finds the fires and the volcano beautiful. -> Glacier Heart: Dino Valley. Sister to the Ashland one, likes the cold. Constantly annoyed by Fire Glory’s neverending chitchat about Ashland, which she can hear. -> Astral Crown: Starshine mountain. Next to the Secret Stone Circle, protects it, she is why the DRs can’t come close to the circle. -> Silver Runebark: Rimefang woods. Silver leafs, revered by the Kallters, likes them, his bark covered in glowing azure runes. -> Wise Leaf : Anvil woods. Helped the druids protect the forest from DC, gives them advice. Talks in verses, metaphors and tales.

3. Springvalley -> Royal Cedar: Blossom woods. Majestic and reliable, he has been guarding the Blossom woods and Springvalley from the storm in Winterdale. -> Everbloom Elm: Everspring plateau. Covered in various flowers, she’s very proud of them. Gives you some random herbs every day if you go say hi to her. The tree is so full of herself, she’s basically giving you an autograph, don’t worry about it. -> Sun Queen: Suncrown lake. Cleansed from corruption by MC and SRs. Protects the Von Blyssen manor and vineyard. -> Twilight Oak: Morrinweald. The source of the valas’ power. Was corrupted by dark powers, later cleansed by MC and SRs.

4. Summerplains -> Restored Guardian: The Great Clearing. Was cut down long ago. We grow it back, like the one in Forgotten Fields. -> Elder Witchwood: Old Morass. She liked to watch the rituals the witches did in the swamp. Quickly becomes best friends with Pi and Mrs Holdsworth. -> Shadow Chestnut: Claymore mountains, hidden. He was tasked with keeping an eye on the Claymores- they have been serving evil for a long time. -> Aspen King: Lone Star canyon. Yellow-golden leaves, huge tree. Likes the Lone Star Cowboys, who bring gifts (anything from horseshoes to elk skulls).

The New Fast Travel System: -> Advantage of using the trees: you pay for the trailer rides, but you use the tree portals for free. -> With all 4 big areas unlocked, you will need to cover great distances. You have a lot of choices: 1, Trailers (costs money, but most accurate, quickest) 2, Tree portals (free, but less accurate, takes a bit of time) 3, Pandoria portal in-between shortcuts (free, jumps great distances, but least accurate). -> Trailer rides now cost more money the farther the distance you go. Prices: 25 JS: if you travel inside a great area (e.g. staying inside Harvestlands). 50 JS: if you travel to another great area next to you (e.g. from Harvestlands to Winterdale) 75 JS: travel to another area second next to you (e.g. from Harvestlands to Springvalley) 100 JS: travel to third next area (e.g. from Harvestlands to Summerplains) -> [Keep it in mind, that by our game design the JS cap has been raised to 100.000 and you earn more money, via reworked quest rewards.]

#sso #starstableonline #star stable #star stable online #ssoblr #sso rewritten #sso full story series #sso map #sso life warden #sso tree #sso magic #sso aideen #sso game design

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dvar-trek · 4 months

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Romance Roundup: Part 2

the full list:

loved | liked | okay | didn't like

●Captive Prince Trilogy by C.S. Pacat ○Captive Prince ○Prince's Gambit ○Kings Rising ○The Summer Palace ●Whyborne and Griffin Series by Jordan L. Hawk (there are like 11 of these in total, but this is as far as i got. this is not the only reason i stopped, but this series does contain a sex scene wherein sliding back the foreskin is described as "peeling". and i just. i simply don't think you should peel a dick. i don't think it's good for them.) ○Widdershins ○Eidolon ○Threshold ●Sweet Disorder by Rose Lerner ●Sailor's Delight by Rose Lerner ●Something Human by A.J. Demas ●Doomsday Books by KJ Charles ○The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen ○A Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel

●Old Bridge Inn Series by Annick Trent ○Beck and Call ○The Oak and the Ash ●10 Things That Never Happened by Alexis Hall ●Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall (okay, listen, the first chapter hits you with a high concentration of cringe, and is therefore difficult to read. but the cringe concentration lessens considerably as you go along, and this ended up being one of my faves.) ●Husband Material by Alexis Hall (again with the cringe, but it's not a strong enough book otherwise to make up for it, imo. the first book stands up great without having to bother with the sequel) ●The Secret Diaries of Miss Miranda Cheever by Julia Quinn ●Bridgerton Series by Julia Quinn ○The Duke and I ○The Viscount Who Loved Me (there are six more of these, but i simply couldn't go on)

●The Mystery of Nevermore by C.S. Poe ●Turner Series by Cat Sebastian ○The Soldier's Scoundrel ○The Lawrence Browne Affair ○The Ruin of a Rake ○A Little Light Mischief ●The Last Binding by Freya Marske (these are kissing books, but i didn't like the actual romances so much as the. like. plot.) ○A Marvellous Light ○A Restless Truth ○A Power Unbound ●Lucky Lovers of London by Jess Everlee ○The Gentleman's Book of Vices ○A Rulebook for Restless Rogues ●A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland ●His Heart's Obsession by Alex Beecroft ●Seducing the Sedgwicks by Cat Sebastian ○It Takes Two to Tumble ○A Gentleman Never Keeps Score ○Two Rogues Make a Right ●Hard Sell by Hudson Lin ●Green Men World by KJ Charles ○The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal (can be read as a stand-alone. is also not really a romance, per-se, although they sure do fuck. more like if shelock holmes had been a ghost-hunter, and watson had told us about all the sex they were having) ○Spectred Isle (n.b. this was meant to be the first book in a series that is on hold indefinitely, though i enjoyed it plenty on its own)

●Winterbourne series by Joanna Chambers (there's one more novella in this series but none of my libraries has it) ○Introducing Mr. Winterbourne ○Mr. Winterbourne's Christmas ○The First Snow of Winter ●The Vicar and the Rake by Annabelle Greene ●The Gentleman and the Spy by Neil S. Plakcy ●The Lord and the Frenchman by Neil S. Plakcy ●Unfit to Print by KJ Charles ●Brook Street by Ava March ●Enlightenment Trilogy by Joanna Chambers ○Provoked ○Beguiled ○Enlightened ○The Bequest (epilogue novella) ●Unnatural by Joanna Chambers ●Restored by Joanna Chambers ●Society of Gentlemen by KJ Charles (another one where the whole series is worthwhile for the story, even if i didn't love all of the romances. the characters are endearing and there's an excellent little series epilogue availble on the author's website) ○The Ruin of Gabriel Ashleigh (prequel novella) ○A Fashionable Indulgence ○A Seditious Affair ○A Gentleman's Position

●Something Fabulous by Alexis Hall ●Hither, Page by Cat Sebastian ●The Missing Page by Cat Sebastian ●Sins of the Cities by KJ Charles ○An Unseen Attraction ○An Unnatural Vice ○An Unsuitable Heir ●Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston ●Bright Falls series by Ashley Herring Blake (I'm still on a waitlist for the third book, which just came out) ○Delilah Green Doesn't Care ○Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail ●Fake it 'til You Make Out by Isla Olsen ●The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite ●The Care and Feeding of Waspish Widows by Olivia Waite ●The Lilywhite Boys by KJ Charles ○The Rat-Catcher's Daugher (prequel novella) ○Any Old Diamonds ○Guilded Cage ○Masters in this Hall (sequel novella) ●England World by KJ Charles ○Proper English ○Think of England ●Will Darling Adventures by KJ Charles ○Slippery Creatures ○The Sugared Game ○Subtle Blood

●The Lady's Secret by Joanna Chambers ●A Charm of Magpies series by KJ Charles ○The Magpie Lord ○A Case of Possession ○Flight of Magpies ●Other KJ Charles book linked to the Magpies world ○A Queer Trade ○Rag and Bone ○Jackdaw ●Wanted, A Gentleman by KJ Charles ●The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting by KJ Charles ●A Thief in the Night by KJ Charles (novella linked to Gentle Art) ●Band Sinister by KJ Charles ●Unmasked by the Marquess by Cat Sebastian ●A Duke in Disguise by Cat Sebastian

romance roundup part 1

#if the random paragraph breaks don't work to make tumblr process this post. i have one more idea to try but it sucks.#wip wednesday #romance roundup #look at my opinions boy

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yr-obedt-cicero · 1 year

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Can you please tell us more about Troup and Hamilton’s friendship? I heard that they would clash at times, so what did that usually look like?

Of course, I can. Robert Troup (1756-1832) was born in New Jersey, and was Hamilton's undergraduate roommate at King's College (Columbia University), and it was during that time that they formed an everlasting friendship. Like Hamilton, Troup was studying law, but was under John Jay. They shared bunks together, [x] and they both - alongside Nicholas Fish - joined the New York militia group called The Hearts Of Oak (Originally coined as Corsican). The two actually had a lot in common; both of them were orphans, Troup's father having died the same year Hamilton's mother had too in 1768, and then his own mother the following year. And both of them were trying to get ahead, with very little money in their possessions.

Troup was known to be lighthearted and humourous, which likely consoled Hamilton during his depressive episodes. In Hamilton's first months at King's, he and Troup formed a club that gathered weekly for debating, writing, and speaking skills. With familiar members like; Nicholas Fish, Edward Stevens, and Samuel and Henry Nicoll, who were all relatively Hamilton's closest friends during his college days. Troup said Hamilton; “made extraordinary displays of richness of genius and energy of mind” at the debates. [x] As tension of the revolution was brewing, many discussions included the question of royal-colonial relations. And while at first, Hamilton sided with the monarchists, he later began to publish anti-British pieces, as he used the debating society at King's to preview his essays.

Hamilton had also apparently written poetry in honor of his friendship with Troup, but Troup says that he had lost it during the war and never found it;

After giving this hint of the General's poetical vein, I ought to mention, that whilst he was in college, he now and then paid his court to the muses; and as a pledge of his friendship, he presented me with a small manuscript of fugitive poetry; the amusement of his leisure hours. I was not a little pleased with the pledge—I considered the poetry, as strong evidence of the elasticity of the General's genius—and I have often lamented that the manuscript was lost, with my books and papers, during the War.

Source — Library Of Congress, digital collections. Alexander Hamilton Papers: Miscellany, 1711-1820; Memoirs relating to Hamilton.

Troup was also the last visit Hamilton made before his fatal duel with Burr, for weeks Troup had lain bedridden with a grave illness that Hamilton feared might prove mortal. Troup wrote of the event saying;

On the afternoon of the day preceding the fatal duel, and immediately after finishing an elaborate opinion on a case submitted to him, the General called to see me. I had been confined to my house for several weeks, with a complaint, which the General and most of my other friends, were afraid had inflicted a dangerous, and probably mortal, wound on my constitution. The General’s visit lasted more than half and hour; and after making particular enquires respecting the state of my complaint, he favored me with his advice as to the course, which he thought would best conduce to the reestablishment of my health, But the whole tenor of the General’s deportment, during the visit, manifested such composure, and cheerfulness of mind, as to leave me without an suspicion of the rencontre that was desending.

Source — Library Of Congress, digital collections. Alexander Hamilton Papers: Miscellany, 1711-1820; Memoirs relating to Hamilton.

Although they had very different life preferences and the choices that they made. Hamilton could be very dismissive towards his financial situation, and paid little attention to his personal finances in favor of prioritizing glory or legacy—While adolescent hardship had instilled in Troup a lasting sense of financial insecurity, and he was constantly urging Hamilton to get higher paying jobs. To the point at moments, Troup would loan money to Hamilton. [x] Hamilton also considered a moment wasted if it was not spent advancing his status or making an appearance, Troup - on the other hand - never sought glory for himself, and was willing to be a follower. This polarization sometimes clashed between them, but it would ultimately be one of the components that made them. As Wood writes;

Like Burr, Hamilton had a continual need for money, and he knew that many public officials like Burr were using their political connections to get rich. He did not want to be one of them. In 1795, at a time when Hamilton was financially pressed and out of public office, his close friend Robert Troup pleaded with him to get involved in business, especially in speculative land schemes. Everyone else was doing it, said Troup. “Why should you object to making a little money in a way that cannot be reproachful? Is it not time for you to think of putting yourself in a state of independence?” He even joked to Hamilton that such moneymaking schemes might be “instrumental in making a man of fortune – I may say – a gentleman of you. For such is the present insolence of the World that hardly a man is treated like a gentleman unless his fortune enables him to live at his ease.” Hamilton refused. “Saints,” he told Troup, might get away with such profit making, but he knew he would be denounced by his Jeffersonian Republican opponents as just another one of those “speculators” and “peculators.” He had to refuse “because,” he sardonically put it, “there must be some public fools who sacrifice private to public interest at the certainty of ingratitude and obloquy – because my vanity whispers I ought to be one of those fools and ought to keep myself in a situation the best calculated to render service.”

Source — Revolutionary Characters: What Made the Founders Different, by Gordon S. Wood · 2006

To which Troup made a joke about Hamilton's friends having to pay to bury him;

I sincerely hope that we shall both save our heads and that you may by some fortunate & unexpected event acquire the means of perfect independence in spite of all your efforts to be poor. I have an interest in an event of this nature which perhaps you have forgotten. I have often said that your friends would be obliged to bury you at their own expence.

Source — Robert Troup to Alexander Hamilton, [May 11, 1795]

There was even one point when Troup foretold the future with a joke poking fun at Hamilton, claiming that he and King should start a subscription to pay for Hamilton's funeral expenses. When two years later, both Troup and King would actually become major contributors to the subscription to pay for Hamilton's funeral and to help support Eliza and their seven children;

Hamilton is closely pursuing the law, and I have at length succeeded in making him somewhat mercenary. I have known him latterly to dun his clients for money, and in settling an account with me the other day, he reminded me that I had received a fee for him in settling a question referred to him and me jointly. These indications of regard to property give me hopes that we shall not be obliged to raise a subscription to pay for his funeral expenses.

Source — Robert Troup to Rufus King, [April 8, 1802]

There has also been - really newfound - speculation that the two may have had a more romantic connection in college, especially when considering the suspicious closeness the two had with other men. But if you want to read up on that I talked about it here.

Hope this helps!

#So anyway Troup had Apollo abilities apparently and I will never get over that #amrev #american history #alexander hamilton #historical alexander hamilton #robert troup #history #queries #sincerely anonymous #cicero's history lessons

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yaldev · 9 months

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Resolution Academy

Yaldev is hostile to architecture. Large buildings carry the risk of devastation by earthquake, tornado or mana burst. Only two locations merit large-scale development: the Royal Palace, which Parc Pelbee guards from the Aether, and Resolution Academy, the finest institution of higher learning on the planet.

The school’s most distinctive visual feature, its trio of pyramids, mark the school’s approximate boundaries. These towering vaults were built on top of the capital’s Eej-Landian temples to house the sum total of State records and Empirical literature. Amid the chaos of the War on Treachery, dense walls of stone guarded history from attack by both heretics and the Aether they fought for.

When the enemy was pushed beyond the capital’s sight, priests and natural philosophers built a plaza of cheap concrete to house themselves and their pupils where access to the archives was easiest. Decades later, colleges were formally recognized by the National government, and Resolution Academy was distinguished as the first of its kind, the largest and the highest in educational standards.

The school only improved over generations. New lecture halls provided class space to an ever growing base of students, who flocked from across the continent in pursuit of understanding and opportunity. Post-graduation startups were invited to build offices on campus, providing temporary mentorship and lifelong employment for fellow students. Maths and sciences were gradually elevated as fields that had proven their innovative power, and funding from other disciplines was redirected—even from theology, the first seeds of what Resolution would become. The academy had grown above its roots, and stood tall as a source of light to shine across the known world.

By the time Decadin was accepted as an acolyte, Resolution had become a sprawling complex approaching the peak of its fated prestige. New inventions poured annually from its laboratories and workshops. The library pyramids were recently armored with protective plates, and reported sightings of enraged Eej-Landian ghosts were at an all-time low. By day, the school was lit by a brilliant sun reflecting off the libraries. By night, diffuse pillars of inert mana gave gentle illumination along pathways that wound between the oaks. Such beauty was fertile soil for the blooming mind, and from the academy’s newest cohort, legends would sprout.

---

Yaldev is a sci-fantasy worldbuilding project by Ulysses Maurer, with art by Beeple. By looking at narratives, stylized loredumps, bad poetry and little details, we'll witness the story of a planet filled with magical power, the nation which tried to conquer it, this empire’s dramatic collapse and the new world which emerged in its wake. Along the way we'll meet the characters who live here, and we'll explore questions about nationalism, rationalism, the natural world and the quest to master it. For all stories in chronological order, check out the pinned posts at r/Yaldev!

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pandalorian36 · 9 months

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Loki x Reader (Genderneutral)

This is a backstory to my Loki x reader prompt. Which you can read here. I decided to add a bit more too it and write how you and Loki meet.

After exchanging letters back and forth. You and Loki finally get to meet in person once again, this time on the readers home planet, Keboria.

Warnings: None. Word count: 1994

"Y/N hurry yourself. Frigga her sons will be arriving shortly." I smooth down the front of my outfit and run down the steps joining the rest of my family outside. Lyan is sat at my side so I scratch behind his ears I look forward to meeting your prince.

He is not my prince

Lyan tilts his head to the side smiling as much as a wolf can From the way you speak about him, yes he is.

He is my friend.

The Bi-frost opens, when it clears Frigga, Loki and Thor are standing in the clearing blinking in the sunlight. My parents step forward to greet them my brother moving to introduce himself to Thor, I'm certain they will get along swimmingly they have a lot in common. Loki steps of to one side and I manouver around my siblings to join him Lyan ambling along next to me.

"Welcome to Keboria." he smiles slightly "It is as stunning as you painted." I beam "I'm glad you think so." Lyan steps forward sniffing him knocking him backwards slightly "Lyan gentle please." Loki chuckles scratching beneath his neck causing him to tumble to the floor in a heap of fur all four paws in the air "Well you've just made a friend for life." Lyan grumbles happily "He loves neck scratches. Turns a killing machine into a puppy."

Loki chuckles standing back up, he has grown in the past two months now just a little taller than me. Last we met we where the same height, his hair is also a little longer but his eyes are the same emerald green I remember. "Y/N are you going to introduce us?" I turn smiling at my two identical sisters "Yes sorry. Loki these are my sisters Kirsi and Essie. The brunette talking to Thor is our brother Everett and then the tall silver haired one is the oldest Calen."

He bows his head slightly to both my sisters "Lovely to meet you both." they both giggle curtsying in reply "Y/N talks of you all the time." I flush glaring at the two of them they both laugh and run over to our brothers before I can yell. "You talk about me?" I turn back to Loki who is smirking "Yes. They asked about you I simply answered their questions." he chuckles Lyan jumping to his feet and nudging me with his nose You speak of him all the time to me I glare at my wolf as he ambles of into the woods before turning back to Loki "Would you like a tour?" he nods sweeping out an arm "Lead the way."

I take him around the palace first before going out into the gardens, the majority is taken care of by the royal garderns but I have a section belonging to me behind the library attached to my rooms. "The gardens here may even rival those on Asgard."

I feel my cheeks heaten slightly and crouch down to check on one of my newest additions, a beautiful plant that only flowers in moonlight. "Perhaps." Standing back up we walk over to the library doors, carved into the side of a vast oak tree the library dissappears underground with stained windows in the ceiling. I push open the doors Loki following me inside. "This is my second favourite place." Loki smiles softly looking around "I can see why it is beautiful. May I ask where is your favourite place?"

"I'll show you while you are here if you like." he nods wandering over to one of the shelves "You have so many books on magic." I join him nodding "My parents think that knowledge should be shared and accessible to everyone. This is our private library but the public one in the city contains all the same books if not more. Everyone is allowed to practice and grow their skills but there are severe punishments for anyone who attempts to use dark magic. That was made illegal long ago and the books locked deep beneath the city."

"Not destroyed?" I shake my head "No, they contain all the counter spells as well so it was safer to keep them intact. How are your lessons going?" he shrugs elegantly "Alright I suppose. I despise my brother and his friends they don't have a lot going on upstairs. Thor tried to pay me to do his final exams."

"How much?" he chuckles "Not enough, but I did help him enough to pass." I smile despite his outward dislike of his brother I know he loves him really. I settle into a squashy arm chair in the corner tucking my feet underneath me Loki taking a seat opposite "The plant you healed is still growing strong." I smile warmly "Thats excellent."

"You mentiond you had a private garden, may I see it?" I stare at him a moment "Really?" he nods "If that is alright?" I jump to my feet beaming "Of course its alright. No one really shows much interest in the gardens. Other than my brother Calen but the others don't really care. I'm rambling sorry." I start walking resisting the urge to face palm, pull yourself together.

Exiting the library I lead the way along a short path through the woodland to a tall gate set into a stone wall. "Your highness." I smile warmly at the two guards as they walk past "Good morning." I push open the gate letting Loki through.

My garden is small and circular with windows set into the walls to let in enough light. There are climbing plants covering most of the walls, flower beds curving around the left side containing all of my favourite flowers and the beds curving around to the left contain edible fruits, medicinal herbs. In the centre of the garden is a beautiful tree with a curving trunk that has flowers all year around: white in summer, pink in spring, yellow in autumn and blue in winter. around the base of the tree are rose bushes containing every colour I have been able to find. Around this is a bench built into the stone, one of multiple seating areas. My favorite is under the purple wysteria bush a swinging bench that gets sunlight most of the day due to the windows surrounding it. There is also a stone pathway that weaves inbetween all the plants with glow in the dark flowers lining the edges perfect for midnight walks.

There are also small paintings on many of the larger stones that I've been adding too over the years and windchimes hanging in the larger trees. A small spring bubbles up near the gate which I built a small pond around lillys sitting in the water which is cold and crystal clear perfect for watering the plants. "This is beautiful. You must have put so much effort into this." I blush slightly "I'm glad you like it. Though I prefer it at night quite a few bloom in the dark and they glow. Oh dear, you're not looking too good."

Loki P/O/V:

I watch Y/N carfully as they drift around their garden green and blue swirls winding up their arms fading as they reach their bicep as they tend to each plant. They pause at a droopy looking plant with heart shaped leaves and kneel down cupping the leaves delicatly "Here we go." I watch in awe as their magic wraps around the plant green and blue ribbons of every shade winding around the plant and their hands the leaves gaining colour and looking perkier by the second.

"It is beautiful. Your magic." they look up cheeks flushed "Thank you." they stand brushing of their hands "We should umm go inside." I follow behind watching the sunlight fall through the windows highlighting their features. There smile is contagious and despite my best efforts I cannot help but feel... happy around them.

My mother has sent so many suitors towards my brother and I but none have been of any interest. None are interested in the same books, or magic, or interesting conversation. None are Y/N. How I can have become so close to another person, this is only the third time speaking in person despite our many letters exchanged, in such a short time I do not know but all I know is Y/N L/N is the only person I consider a friend.

"Loki? Loki?" I crash back down into reality staring blankly at Y/N who grins shoulders shaking with repressed laughter "Head in the clouds? I was asking if you would like me to show you to your rooms?" I nod slightly clearing my throat "Yes, thank you." falshing one of their smiles that always sends warmth flooding through me they lead the way through the palace, it is all white and gold not as regal as Asgard but still comfortable.

They stop outside a set of double doors guards posted on either side "I believe your mother and brother are inside. I will see you at dinner tonight." I bow slightly "Until tonight then your highness, thank you for the tour." grinning they turn on their heel and leave gliding away back the way we came.

I step into a lavishly dressed room where my mother and Thor are seated. Thor is slumped in his seat looking bored "Ah brother where did you get too?" I shrug "Lady/Lord Y/N gave me a tour of the library and gardens." He rolls his eyes slightly but our mother smiles warmly "How kind of them. I suggest you both wash and change for dinner."

My room is significantly smaller than the one back home but comfortable enough with a large window looking out over the gardens below. Walking out onto the balcony I spot Y/N below with their wolf who is sprawled on the gravel. "Lyan if you do not keep your thoughts to yourself you will be sleeping outside for the rest of the week." I smile slightly at their tone, I remember them mentioning Lyan could communicate telepathically.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for dinner." They look up smiling brightly, that smile sends something fluttering through my chest it is so bright and happy "Calen." their oldest brother steps out into view "Did you enjoy your time with the Asgardian Prince?"

Y/N shoots a glare at Lyan who if it was possible looks guilty before ambling away "I was merely showing him around brother." "Lyan tells me you have been writing letters?"

"Your sources are a wolf." he chuckles shrugging "I am merely wondering if I need have my brotherly talk." Y/N visibly blushes mouth agape "I don't... You don't... For once please do not scare of someone because you have a hunch that it may or may not grow into something more." Calen holds up his hands in defeat "I merely wish to know you are safe. But from what I have heard, the prince is well respected."

"Calen please stop talking." he grins "So I will take your reaction as you like him rather a lot." they bury their face in their hands while Calen laughs throwing an arm around their shoulders "Well he would be stupid not to feel the same way."

"I don't know what I feel alright. Just please let me work it out, without any of your interference."

"I promise to stay out of the way." Y/N sighs "We'd best get ready for dinner, Mother will have our heads if we are late." The two disappear inside while I mull over Y/Ns words. Perhaps there is something more under our friendship. It seems the both of us are unsure of what lays beneath so many letters and brief meetings. One day perhaps we will be able to work it out, for now I do not want to risk our frienship. They are the one person I actually feel comfortable around other than my mother and I cannot loose that.

#x reader #x y/n #loki x reader insert #loki x reader #mcu loki #loki fluff #marvel #mcu #tom hiddleston #loki laufeyson #marvel x reader #reader insert #tom hiddleston x reader #loki god of mischief

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poppywrites41 · 2 years

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Captive Love Ch. 10

Uh, hi✌🏼 Notes at the end.

Warnings: Feels, language, mentions of frolicking with women

Disclaimer: This fic does not represent the boys at all. This is all purely fiction.

MINORS GFTO

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Tags (If I missed u, lmk):

@fangirl125reader @bunzom @minshookie29 @deepdarkdelights @d-noona @madygswich @doyouwantapancake @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @badbyeyoongi

The next day was somewhat of a ‘normal’ day for Y/N. She started off having breakfast with Emily. Elizabeth had an early shift serving one of the royals breakfast, which was uncommon. It made Y/N wonder who was up so early for breakfast.

“So,” Emily said with a mouthful of porridge, “you think today will be different?”

“How so?” Y/N asked, before glaring at her friend, “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Emily rolled her eyes, taking another spoonful, “I mean, will they approach you?”

“I will answer when you ask me and I don’t have to see food in your mouth,” Y/N said, slapping the girl’s hand.

Emily groaned and swallowed her food, “I’m asking if you think the princes will approach you.”

Y/N shrugged and stirred her porridge as she stared at her bandaged hand, “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. Jimin definitely spoke to at least one of them about what happened last night.”

Emily glanced at the bandaged hand, “I swear if Lilith makes you do anything that will make your hand hurt more, I will personally fight her.”

That comment made Y/N chuckle, “It doesn’t matter. I have a job and I intend to do it to the best of my abilities. Hurt hand or not.”

“You’re an angel, Y/N, you know that?” her friend sighed, “What did our world do to deserve someone like you?”

Y/N shrugged.

“Maybe it was so messed up that the gods decided to send their strongest warrior to set things straight!”

“I highly doubt it,” she snorted, “If I was an angel warrior, I would most likely be a priestess or something. Not a servant.”

“Seems more humbling to be a servant, though. More of a servant of the people, you know.”

Y/N laughed, “That was a very wise thing to say, Em.”

“I have my moments of wisdom. I may be hotheaded, but I can be smart too.”

“You should have been a knight,” Y/N jokes, “You have the mindset for one.”

Emily pondered the thought, “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I have never been one to be invested in the activities of a woman.”

“How so?”

“I mean, when I was a girl in my village, I was always more interested in hunting, sword fighting, riding horses and all that manly stuff. I was lucky enough to have had a mother and father who let me do all of that,” Emily smiled, reminiscing in the memories, “I hated dresses. I always wore pants and would cut my hair short so it wouldn’t get in my way. I felt so free.”

“I bet you miss that life,” Y/N sighed.

“I do,” Emily nodded. She then gasped and grasped Y/N’s good hand with wide eyes, “Oh my gods! You should ask the princes to let me practice sword fighting!”

“Emily, I’m not planning on interacting with the princes more than I have to. Also, I’m not in a place to make demands of them.”

“But they’ll do it for you!”

“That’s just it,” Y/N sighed, “They’ll do it for me. Not for themselves or their people.”

Emily groaned, “Fine, fine. Make them learn their lesson first.”

“Lessons,” Y/N corrected before burying her face in her hands, “Why me? Out of all the people in the world, why did I have to attract the attention of seven princes?!”

Emily shrugged, “Beats me.”

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

Once breakfast ended, Lilith gave everyone their assignments. Y/N was only given one assignment and that was to go to clean the royal library. She knew someone must have told Lilith to give her an assignment that wouldn’t stress her hand too much. Not that she wasn’t grateful. She would much rather dust shelves and rearrange books than haul heavy things around the castle and risking her would opening up. So, she and three other girls left to library.

When they opened the ornate oak doors to the library, Y/N’s breath was taken away. It was huge. Two stories with thousands and thousands of books on shelves surrounding multiple couches, desks, and chairs where one could get lost in a story of their choosing. Needless to say, Y/N was in heaven. Even though, her family was poor, her mother had a few books and taught her how to read. Reading with her mother was one of Y/N’s favorite memories… Shaking her head from her thoughts, Y/N remembered that she a had a job to do. Taking a feather duster from the cart one of girls brought with them, she started her job with removing books from shelves that had gathered dust and cleaning.

After a few hours of cleaning and rearranging books, Y/N heard one of girls call down to her from the second floor of the library.

“Y/N! Me and Jessica finished up here. How are you two coming along?” the girl called.

The girl who was cleaning on the floor level with Y/N answered back, “I’m done with my section. Y/N?”

“I’m almost done. I just have a couple more sections.” Y/N replied.

“How’s your hand holding up? Do you need help?”

Y/N shook her head, “I’m alright! This is my only assignment and you girls have other tasks. You all go see Lilith; I won’t be too long.”

“Okay. See you later. Don’t strain yourself!”

When the girls left, Y/N turned her attention back to her work. She only had two more section of re-shelving books and to be honest, her hand was a little sore. She could really only carry one book up the ladder in her bandaged hand at a time. But she was determined to get her job done and she wouldn’t let a hurt hand get in the way of that. She grabbed a book and began her awkward one-handed climb up the ladder to put it in its correct spot. What she didn’t realize was that the ladder slid a bit as she climbed up, making it difficult to reach for her. With an annoyed sigh, she tucked the book under her chin and jerked her body to inch the ladder closer to where she needed it to be.

“Y/N?!” a masculine voice called out.

Y/N’s body jolted in shock, causing the book to slip from under her chin. Without thinking, she tried to catch it with her bandaged hand, crying out when the spine of the book landed spot on to her wound. The pain was too much. Again, without thinking, she instinctively removed her other hand from the ladder to cradle her injured one, causing her to lean backwards a bit.

“Y/N!!” the man cried out, “Keep your hand on the ladder!”

Realizing her mistake, she quickly put a hand back onto the cool metal, pulling her body against it and holding her hand close to her center.

“Are you okay?” the voice called up to her, “You should come down.”

“Yeah, okay,” Y/N sighed, slowly making her way down the ladder. She could feel her pulse in through her hand, wincing whenever it throbbed. She gasped when she felt two big hands find purchase on her waist and lift her off the ladder and place her on her feet on the floor.

“Thank you–” Y/N said, turning toward her savior, only to gasp when she looked upon the face of Prince Namjoon and immediately bowed, “My Prince!”

“Y/N–”

“I-I am so sorry! Please forgive me for my clumsiness!” she said, her head still bowed.

“Y/N!” Namjoon said, grabbing her forearm, careful of her bandage, “Please don’t do that for me.”

Y/N hesitantly stood up straight, eyes immediately going to where his hand was touching her skin. Namjoon’s gaze followed hers and he let go as if he were burned.

“Apologies,” he said, clearing his throat, “Are you alright?”

Y/N cradled her hand in her own, rubbing the back of it to sooth the ache. When she looked up, she saw concern in the fourth prince’s face.

“I-I’m alright now,” she said, “It’s just achy now.”

“What are you doing here?” the prince asked.

“Um, my job? Re-shelving the books and dusting shelves was my assignment.”

“Seriously? I would have had Lilith give you the day off.”

“Well, someone told Lilith to give me an easy assignment and apparently this was the easiest one. Besides climbing the ladder,” she said, giving him a pointed look. When she saw the shock on his face, she quickly corrected her face, “I apologize, I didn’t mean to be accusatory towards you, Your Highness.”

Namjoon was quick to respond, “No, don’t apologize. No need to be so formal, I think all of us are past that stage. You are right to show frustration towards us. And please, call me Namjoon.”

Y/N nodded in silence.

“Also, we weren’t the ones who spoke to Lilith this morning. We all got up a couple of hours ago.”

Y/N looked at him in confusion, “A couple of hours ago?”

Namjoon nodded sheepishly, “We had a, uh, rough night.”

“Did he tell you?”

“He did. He was frustrated with himself, so I checked up on him. When I left after speaking with him, the other five were outside the door. They heard everything.”

Y/N groaned, “Great.”

“We’re all very sorry for what we did, Y/N–”

“Do you speak for all of them?”

“No,” Namjoon hung his head, “I do not. I apologize. I am just so used to speaking on behalf of all of us in formal settings, it is a habit. But I will say, as their brother, that they are sorry and hopefully be able to apologize to you in person. I am also sorry. Both as a prince and man, I apologize for letting my arrogance blind me into not doing the right thing and setting myself and my brothers straight.”

“Thank you for your apology.” Y/N said. With the pain in her hand almost gone, she picked up another book and made her way back to the ladder, “Now if you will excuse me, I have to finish my task.”

Before she could tuck the book under her chin, it was snatched out of her hands. “Hey!” she said as Namjoon nudged her to the side and began to climb the ladder.

“You do the shelves closer to the floor,” he said as he climbed, “I’ll do the top ones.”

“This is my job,” Y/N argues, “I have to complete it.”

“How do you think Jimin will feel if he finds out your wound had opened up again?”

Y/N winces at the mention of Jimin. Flashes of him crying and begging her for forgiveness from the night before appearing in her mind. Guilt filled her core. “He’d feel horrible,” she said.

“Exactly,” Namjoon sighs, “Please don’t make him feel worse than he does now. I mean, yes, we all deserve this guilt. But Jimin is the most fragile out of all of us.”

“How so?” Y/N asked as she picked up books, her interest on the third youngest prince piqued.

“He was different from the rest of us growing up. He was always open about his feelings. All three of the youngest are, actually, but Jimin the most. You see, me, Jin, Yoongi and Hobi–”

“Hobi?”

“That’s Hoseok’s nickname.”

Y/N nodded. In her head, she thought that was a cute nickname. To her, it painted Prince Hoseok in a different light. A bubblier prince than the one she experienced in the dining hall…

“Anyways, what I should actually say is Jin, Yoongi and I were ‘raised’ mostly by our father. He was a strict man who would pound into our heads everyday that we were men and men don’t feel. We rely on our brain and strength. We were the princes most likely to rule.”

“Isn’t Prince Hoseok older than you, though?”

“Well, yes, but he never had much of an affinity for the big chair. So, I replaced him as the third prince, but I’m still the fourth prince. Because of that, Hobi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were raised more by our mother and the maids. Mother showed them that expressing their feelings was good. They were more emotionally available for the three of us who were being raised by our father. Whenever we would get frustrated when we were younger, Jimin was always there help us talk about it. Whenever any of us got in trouble, Jimin would take punishments with us so we wouldn’t be alone. He hated to see us sad and he would feel bad about himself if he couldn’t help us. It’s his toxic trait. Sometimes he wouldn’t eat for days if he felt that he couldn’t help us. He’s strong, but very fragile.”

“I see that now,” Y/N said, “Last night, he was so emotional. More than any man I have ever known. But I don’t understand. How did he and the others become so cold hearted?”

“Easy,” Namjoon said with a sigh, “Puberty. It all started with Yoongi. He had a time where he was so fed up with everything, and all he did was drink. Then one night at a ball, a princess threw herself at him. He welcomed it and afterwards, he changed. Soon all he did was drink and mess around with women. And as younger siblings do, they thought he was so cool, they hardened themselves up and followed suit.”

“And you and Prince Jin?” Y/N asked.

“Jin and I rarely indulged. He was the first prince and I was then named ‘second prince’ because Yoongi gave up on the throne. Now don’t get me wrong, Jin and I have had our fair share of indecent escapades, but we did not go as far to sleep with as many women as the others.”

“And I guess the sadistic shit you all are into just developed along the way, correct,” Y/N huffed and she slammed a book into the shelf.

Namjoon sighed, “Yes. We made ourselves numb to the feelings and needs of others to only focus on our own pleasures. Until you came along. You woke us up.”

Y/N scoffed. “Damn. Emily, you may be right,” she muttered.

“What was that?” Namjoon asked as he climbed down to pick up more books.

“Oh, nothing.” Y/N said quickly, busying herself with her books.

“Emily,” Namjoon said to himself in thought, “Oh, the girl you spend a lot of time with. The one with the red hair, right?”

Y/N gulped, “Um, yes.”

“She’s got a mouth, that one. Feisty.” Namjoon chuckled, “It’ going to get her in trouble.”

“I keep telling her that. But that’s just how she is. She’s never been the ‘lady-like’ type.” Y/N caught herself before revealing too much information about her friend. She was still concerned that at least one of the princes would use anything about her friends against her.

“What do you mean?” the prince asked as he climbed down the ladder. He took notice of Emily when she arrived. She was different from the other girls. Strong, quick witted…almost masculine…When he looked at Y/N after not getting an answer he noticed that she was pressing her lips together almost like she was refusing to answer.

“You don’t have to say anything. I was just curious,” he said, “She’s an interesting person. I can tell she has ambitions.”

“Ambitions?”

“She gives off an aura that says she knows she’s meant for bigger things. Confidence.”

“Well,” Y/N said, picking at the spine of the book she was holding out of nervousness, “back at her village, her parents let her partake in activities that were uncommon for women to participate in…”

Namjoon looked at her in confusion, “Activities? As in…”

“They let her practice with a sword, ride horses, hunt and even let her wear pants,” Y/N said, chuckling at the pants part, “She would also cut her hair so it wouldn’t get in her way.”

“She’s a protector,” Namjoon said.

Y/N shrugged in agreement, “I guess? She’s very protective of those she treasures. I mean-” she gestured to herself.

Namjoon nodded as he climbed back up the ladder, “Interesting…”

“What is?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just thinking. Focus on shelving the books. I’m on my last batch so I’ll start on the next shelf.”

Y/N nodded and got back to work. For the next half hour, the two worked in silence. Neither knowing what to say, but also enjoying the brief harmony of being able to be in the same room without Namjoon being worried of scaring Y/N off, and Y/N being scared of being in the same room as Namjoon. While she worked, Y/N thought about what Namjoon told her about his brothers and she thought about him. To be fair, Namjoon never physically did anything to her, which she was grateful for and made his path to forgiveness a little easier than a few of the other brothers, but he still said things that made her uncomfortable. Even so, he opened up about himself and his brothers, which made her understand them and their lives a little more. She used to think that royals had the easy life. Servants at their beck and call and everything taken care of. But she never thought about what life is like for royals as children and even though Namjoon glossed over a little bit of their time growing up as princes, she realized that it was not a walk in the park. It was so bad that Yoongi pretty much became a drunk for a time. She knows that she would need to approach each prince at some point and hear their story to better understand them, but it scared her. Y/N is now more comfortable being in Namjoon’s presence after his story. He seemed very sorry and was willing to open up about himself, which told her that Jimin is partly to thank on that. Maybe she should try approaching Jimin? Just to check up on him and–

“Pride and Prejudice. Have you read it?” Namjoon’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

Y/N gasped and turned to see the prince leaning over her shoulder. Out of habit of fear, she took a step back into the bookshelf.

“Sorry!” Namjoon said, quickly taking a step back himself to give her space.

“N-No,” Y/N said, quickly turning to put the book in its spot, “Sorry, force of habit.”

“It’s fine,” he said with a small smile.

“I-I’m sorry, what was your question?”

“That book, Pride and Prejudice, it was the last book in your pile and you’ve been staring at it for a bit so I was wondering if you read it. I-I mean, not to be rude or anything but, can you read?”

Y/N chuckled, “Yes, I can read. My mother taught me. And no, I have not read it.”

“Do you want it?”

Y/N looked at the book in its place and back at Namjoon with her mouth agape, “I-I couldn’t. I shouldn’t servants aren’t allowed to take anything that belongs to royals.”

“But–”

“I’m very sorry, but I just can’t. I-I have to go back to my quarters. It’s almost dinner time for us and we need to prepare your dinner,” Y/N said hurriedly as she picked up her things. When she gathered everything, she turned back to Namjoon and bowed her head, “T-Thank you for your help today. I’m sorry I took up your precious time!”

Before Namjoon could respond, she rushed out of the library. Namjoon just stared after her. After a few minutes, he looked back at the copy of Pride and Prejudice and back at the door where Y/N left.

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When Y/N got to the servants quarters, she dropped her stuff off in the supply closet and rushed to dining room. She scanned the room and found Emily and Elizabeth sitting at a table. She smiled when she saw the empty chair in between them with a plate of food and walked over.

“Y/N!” Emily beamed as she sat down, “What took you so long?! Was it one of the princes?”

“Um…” Y/N started, picking at her food.

“Oh gods…” Emily groaned, “Who was it?”

“Prince Namjoon?” Y/N said sheepishly.

“Y/N!” Elizabeth chimed in, “what happened?! Did you get hurt?”

“Uh, kinda?”

“Kinda?” Emily hissed, scanning her body for bruises or bleeding wounds.

Y/N shook her head, “Not from him. A book. Everyone finished early so I told them to go on ahead because they had more jobs and that was my only one. I guess I underestimated myself with my hand. I was on the ladder then the prince startled me. I almost fell because the book hit my hand and I let go, but he reminded me to hold onto the ladder.”

“I’m glad you didn’t fall,” Elizabeth said, “Very…kind…of him to help.”

“I bet he scolded you for taking too long.” Emily grumbled.

“Actually…the opposite,” Y/N said, “He helped me. He took care of the book that were on the top shelves and grounded me to the shelves closer to the floor.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Emily said, choking on her food, “I bet *cough* it was super awkward.”

“It was at first, but he apologized for his actions.”

“And?” Elizabeth urged.

“He apologized on behalf of his brothers, but I kind of rejected that one. He told me at least not to be too hard on Prince Jimin.”

“Prince Jimin?” Emily asked, “Why him?”

“he said Prince Jimin is the most fragile out of all of them. He was very emotionally available for his brothers as a child growing up. He was the brother that took punishments with his brothers, even when he didn’t do anything, so they wouldn’t be alone.”

“You’re seriously going to believe that?” Emily scoffed, “They could be lying.”

“I don’t think he was, Em, that’s the thing.” Y/N said.

“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked.

“Last night, Prince Jimin was sobbing in the kitchen. He was on his knees. Begging me to tell him what to do. I have never seen such emotions coming from a man. I could see it all in his eyes. And Prince Namjoon told me about their lives growing up. How he, Prince Yoongi and Prince Jin had a harsh childhood because their father mostly raised them while the younger princes were raised by their mother and their nannies. How their bad habits started and how I was the one who woke them up.”

“See?” Emily clapped, “What did I say? Angel warrior. Still don’t believe them though.”

“You were brought up too.” Y/N said, turning to her. Elizabeth eyed Emily warily, worried she might blow up.

“What? Me?”

“I accidentally muttered a curse to you about your suspicion of me, as a joke of course, and Prince Namjoon heard. He wanted me to tell him more about you, but I wouldn’t. Until he told me that I didn’t have to, just that he thought you were interesting and he could tell you had ambitions.”

“Really?” she asked.

Y/N nodded, “Sooo I told him about your childhood. He seemed really intrigued– not in the creepy way but like in a calculating way. All he said was ‘interesting.’ I tried to ask what he meant but he said not to worry about it and he was thinking.”

“Well,” Emily huffed, “I’ll have to up my guard. No telling what he is thinking.”

Y/N nodded in agreement and took a bite of her food.

“What happened after?” Elizabeth said.

“We just worked in silence.”

“Awkward.” Emily said.

“It actually wasn’t. It was fine. I’m not entirely comfortable with him, but I felt more at ease after he told me what he did. I was so at ease that I zoned out and was staring at a book so long that I didn’t realize we were done until he asked if I read it.”

“He just assumed that we poor people can read?” Emily groaned.

“Well, he assumed right because this poor person can.” Y/N laughed.

“I can read.” Elizabeth said, laughing at how Emily threw her hands in air in disbelief. Elizabeth turned back to Y/N “What did you say to him?”

“Well, he back tracked and asked if I could read in a very polite way. I said yes and he asked if I wanted the book. To which I said no because we can’t take anything that belongs to the royals. Then I thanked him, apologized for taking up his time, and hurried here.”

“Well,” Elizabeth sighed, “that must have been a lot, but I am glad you aren’t hurt.”

“Me too.”

“Alright ladies!” Lilith’s voice rang through the room, “The royals dinner is in one hour. Finish your meals and meet at the entrance of the kitchen in 40 minutes.”

The three girls looked at each other and laughed as they each shoveled their food into their mouths.

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

After their meal and freshening themselves up, the three went to the kitchens and got their assignments. Y/N once again was serving the family and made a promise to herself to keep her composure as she served the royals.

Just like the night before, the royals were quite, save for the queen and it made Y/N uneasy. Did Namjoon tell the other princes about their conversation? Are they mad? She was nudged out of her thoughts my Alice, who handed her a plate of roasted quail and vegetables.

“This one is Prince Namjoon’s.” she said.

Y/N nodded and took the plate to Namjoon who was seated between Yoongi and Jimin. As she approached the table, the two princes deliberately looked away from her. Namjoon leaned back a bit as she leaned over to place his plate down in front of him. Taking the opportunity, Namjoon tilted his head to her ear.

“I didn’t tell them about what happened today. Don’t worry. Approach them on your own time and terms. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable today,” he whispered.

Y/N let out a small breath of relief and gave a slight nod with a very small ‘thank you’ that barely reached the prince’s ears. Namjoon heard it and let out his own sigh of relief, glad to have hopefully relieved her of a couple of her nerves. As Y/N approached her spot back with the servants, Alice grabbed her arm with urgency.

“Y/N!” she whispered, “Madeleine forgot to get tonight’s wine. Would you please go ask Edward for a Brachetto D'acqui?”

Y/N nodded and made her way to the cellar, feeling a few eyes from the table following her. Thanks to Prince Yoongi, she remembered where to go.

“Edward?” Y/N called as she entered the cellar.

“Yes?” the old man called, looking around the corner from a row of wine, “Ah, Y/N! Good to see ya again lass! What can I help ya with?”

“Um, I need to grab a Brach–”

“Brachetto D'acqui!” he finished for her, “Comin’ right up! Was wonderin’ why no one came to get one earlier.”

Y/N gave a nervous laugh, “We were so busy we forgot.”

“Well, happens to the best of us!” he said with a deep laugh from wherever he went, “I was surprised to see Prince Yoongi come down here with ya last night. Never seen ‘im escort anyone down here, let alone a fine maiden such as yerself.”

“I’m just a maid, sir,” Y/N said.

“A maiden, lass,” he corrected, as he walked to her, “You may be a maid, but yer more than that lass. Yer a kind, beautiful maiden. Definitely one if ya got a prince escortin ya round.”

“He was just showing me where the cellar was because I was new,” she said.

“Trust me lass. I’ve had plenty new ones get lost findin this place and get heckled for it. And the prince didn’t bother helpin’ them. Yer different. Embrace it lass,” he said with a smile as he handed her the bottle, “Now off ya go, lass. Don’t keep ‘em waitin.”

“Thank you, Edward.”

As Y/N made it back to the dining hall, the queen turned upon her arrival and clapped her hands, “Ah there’s the wine! Thank you, dear. Would you please open it and pour us some glasses?”

Y/N nodded with a bow, “Of course, your majesty.”

She handed the bottle to Alice for her to open and made her way to the table to pour the family their glasses. She poured the king’s first, who waved a hand to signal her to stop, then she approached the queen. As she was about to pour the wine, the queen gasped.

“My dear!” the queen exclaimed, “What happened to your hand?”

Y/N flinched and froze up, words unable to form in her mouth. Without thinking, her eyes flicked quickly to Jimin, who cast his eyes down. The boys noticed and tensed up. The queen noticed the quick glance and looked over at her third youngest son with his eyes downcast, then back at Y/N. The king grew impatient with Y/N’s silence and slammed his hand on the table, causing her to almost lose her grip on the bottle.

“Are you mute, servant?!” he roared.

“N-No your majesty.” Y/N whimpered, eyes on the floor.

The princes were trying very hard to mask their concern for Y/N, but the watchful eyes of their mother noticed.

“Then answer her.” The king spat.

“I–” Y/N gulped, “I was careless. I injured my hand last night while washing the kitchen utensils.”

The boy’s as much as Y/N couldn’t believe what they heard. She just lied to their mother and father, the King and Queen. For Jimin.

“It will not affect my work, your majesties. Please do not let my minor injury cause any distress,” Y/N said, straightening herself, “Please enjoy your meal while I pour your glasses.”

The queen nodded, “I’m sorry that happened, dear. Please continue.”

Y/N bowed and continued pouring glasses for everyone. When she approached Jungkook to pour his glass, Jimin stood up, catching everyone’s attention.

“I’m sorry, but I am not very hungry tonight. I’m going to retire to my room.”

“But Jimin!” the queen said, “You’ve barely eaten anything today.”

“I’m just not feeling well, mother.”

“Should I call the physician?”

“No need. I think this will pass. Good night, everyone.”

Everyone bid Jimin a good night, save the king, who was reading letter sent from neighboring kingdoms and did not notice his son left the table.

The rest of the evening was quiet. Some small talk was made between the queen and her sons. The king would speak to Namjoon and Jin about several political issues that needed solving, but it was an uneventful evening. Soon, everyone left the table to retire for the night and the maids cleaned up the table, making sure to save the left overs in the kitchen for anyone’s second dinner. When she finished her tasks, Y/N trudged back to her room and got ready for bed. As she went to blow out her nightstand candle, she noticed something underneath her covers. Curious, she pulled the covers back and gasped. There, in her bed, was the copy of Pride and Prejudice from the library. She picked up the book and noticed a slip of paper peeking out of the top. She removed the paper and unfolded it; her breath caught in her throat as she read it.

This book is one of my favorites. Please accept it as a gift. Enjoy.

-Namjoon.

Y/N couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on her face. A new book. She quickly sat in her bed and opened it to the first page.

Chapter One

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

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GUESS WHO’S BACK AND READY TO POST STUFF WITH NO SCHEDULE AT ALL?!!?!?!? IT’S ME BITCHES!!

I am so sorry for the wait, I know I said I probably wasn’t going to update this fic anymore. and honestly it was because I had absolutely no fucking idea where i was going with this. BUT I am taking a creative writing class this semester and I am buzzing with ideaaaass.

Sad thing is im lost on my thought process for KOL so i think imma just jump between fics at this point. but my posting will be very irregular bc im not like those tumblr gods like inkykeiji, pbelfz or darkmulti where i can pull out bomb ass writing from my anus.

ALSO, I’m thinking of also posting stuff I write for my class on here bc im so proud of them. if yall wanna see my screenplay, imma post it sometime soon after I do a rewrite.

Anyways, I’m glad to be back and I hope yall enjoy this chapter! I stayed up LITERALLY ALL FUCKING NIGHT writing this and trying to make it a long one with some development to make up for the wait🫰🏼💜

apologies for any mistakes, this was not beta read and i went through it 10 times but my sleepless brain probably missed a few things.

#poppywrites41 #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #ot7 x reader

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