#the dragon didn't kidnap the prince | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yan-lorkai · 3 months

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Só lembrei da minha ideia agora, perdão mandar tarde assim

Você conseguiria escrever yandere! Azul, malleus e vil com uma Yuu que simplesmente não fica presa?

Não é como se ela quisesse fugir ou estivesse muito desconfortável, pelo contrário, elaate gosta deles, ela simplesmente so não fica presa

Tipo, o malleus prende ela em um quarto e meia hora depois ela tá andando pela diasomnia como se ela não tivesse feito a coisa mais impressionante do mundo, e quando perguntam pra ela "como vc escapou?" Ela só fala tipo "ah mano, o cadeado quebrou" como se não fosse nada

Muito obrigada, e time muito cuidado consigo mesma

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Translation: Can I have Azul, Malleus and Vil with a reader that always escape somehow? Like, she's super lucky and things tend to work for her. But it's not that she wants to run away or don't like them, it's just somehow she always escape.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Gonna reply in english, Sweetie! But omg have I told you already that I loved this? This is all so silly and they're so dramatic, help---. I was imagining so many scenes when I was writing those hcs that I sincerely thought for a whole second to write a oneshot instead. Glad I didn't because it would be lengthy as hell, not that I won't do it in the future 👀. Well I hope you enjoy, darling! <33

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, kidnapping (on malmal's part), Azul's insecurity + him guilty tripping reader, reader loves the yandere, technically fem!reader but no pronouns / gendered terms were used so everyone can read!

Malleus is a powerful wizard and he knows it. He could move mountains with the blink of an eye or make the seas stir, in fact, he would be more than happy to demonstrate everything he can do in front of you. He almost looks like a bird trying to impress its partner. So silly.

The problem is that Malleus is possessive, he wants you by his side all the time. He wants you to be the blood that runs through his veins, wants you to be the air he breathes and the water that touches his lips, that's why, after a few months of just being your friend, he takes the first step and asks you to be his lover. And he's a good boyfriend, a little clumsy and confused, of course, it's his first time in a romantic relationship, but he always tries to be better for you. He is almost perfect.

But not even that can tame the inner dragon that roars and breathes fire inside, far from it, having you so close makes Malleus more greedy. He just wants more and as usual he simply takes what he wants. Your moving into his room as he likes to call it happens at night, after you sleep so peacefully without knowing what is happening, his fingers gently groping over your skin, his lips connecting with your cheeks and forehead as he watches over your dreams. He can get used to it.

When you wake up and the first thing you see is your boyfriend and hear him say all those absurd things and feelings that have been building up in his chest, of course you don't react well. You're scared, confused but there's still love for him in your heart as you slowly turn away and hide yourself on his blankets, pondering.

But there's nothing you can do, not at that moment and controlling yourself as much as you can, you pretend that kidnapping people because you love them so much is considered normal - for someone who has lived a long time like him, Malleus certainly doesn't understand sarcasm, since he's overjoyed, kissing you and being content in watching you do completely mundane things.

By the way, even if you wanted to run away, appealing to Silver's good heart or Sebek's sense of justice is in vain. If their prince decided to do what he did then they won't stop him, instead they will talk to you, explain to you that things will be better if you just accept it. And Lilia will endorse this thought.

Now, after some time passed and you realized that you didn't care, it's not as if you're trying to escape per say. But as you were trying to open the doors to go outside for something, you applied a little more force and it opened. The same happened when you tried to open the windows, removing the padlocks from them with ease since they weren't even closed, letting the sun's rays illuminate Malleus's room. If Malleus was trying to keep you in his room he was failing horribly.

Your supposed plans to escape improving with each new attempt, but no matter how many times you "escaped" Malleus always seems to be two steps ahead, a smug smile on his lips.

He always knows that you will try to run away, just as he knows that after that you will come running into his arms as if nothing had happened, wanting the comfort that only he can offer. While your escape attempts are funny to watch, he asks you why you always escape and how, and your answer makes him laugh loudly. So you're not trying to escape, you just don't like to spend everyday in his room and away from him? Granted, he now takes you on walks in Diasomnia's gardens and through some ruins he has found. He also allows you to spend time with his brothers and father.

Now that he knows you're not trying to escape, Malleus will let you walk peacefully through Diasomnia and the campus but you know that somehow he is always watching you. At the end of the day you will return to his side.

⠀

Vil knows who he is and what he is capable of doing, what he is capable of achieving if he stays focused and persists in whatever is on his mind. And at the moment what occupies his mind is you, his sweet schatz. Loving you is the best thing that has happened to him, so soft and sublime, just like the books and movies suggested it would be.

And it's out of love that Vil brings you to live at Pomefiore after talking to you and knowing your opinion, he knows very well that his feelings of possession are unhealthy but in a world of villains, you learn to ignore that. It doesn't mean he doesn't first try to get your opinion on moving before he becomes a villain who stole your freedom in your eyes. And seriously, life in Pomefiore is better than in Ramshackle where you had to hope the roof didn't fly off and be careful with the stairs and the leaks and the hard mattress that made your back hurt.

You notice that Vil reveals his true colors slowly, switching this and that in your schedule to match his. Or doing your skin care himself because he likes the control and taking care of you, and well, you don't really care about that. Not even with the big changes he makes, as long as he still loves you, you follow him without complaining. And Vil realizes this, which is why he never imagined you would try to escape from him. If you can call this an escape attempt, that is.

You were creating potions in Vil's personal laboratory. Why? Because you wanted to show him what you had learned today, but the potion was so potent that it almost put him to sleep as soon as he smelled it. Needless to say, he wasn't happy about it, a little disoriented and with a growing migraine on the way, he thought that you were trying to put him to sleep to run away. But he was strangely happy to notice that you were feeling guilty and explaining what were your intentions as you make sure that everything's was alright with him. As an actor he knows how to recognize a liar, but you spoke the truth. So he decided to let it go.

It was just a single, terrible mistake, right?

Such incidents continued to occur. Sometimes even Rook had difficulty following you around campus, having to use his Unique Magic to be able to keep his eyes on you. Lady Lucky seemed to favor your above everyone else, helping you in your little escapades. You did a little bit of everything, you even managed to create a shrinking potion, staying tiny for a whole day and, instead of looking for Vil to fix this problem, you went out there into the world wanting to experience the spontaneity of the moment. One of these days you'll leave him gray with worry.

Despite the frustration bubbling within him, Vil sits you down at his dressing table to work on your hair and asks you about all these incidents, wondering if they were just tests to see how far you could push him to his limit before actually trying to escape. But when you explain your intentions to him, knowing that you're not trying to get away from him takes a weight off his shoulders. The whole situation becomes comical, here he was worried and with countless thoughts running through his head, a particularly potent potion hidden in his pocket and here you are, completely unaware of the effects you have on him.

He thinks it's ridiculous that he considered that you would run away when he stops to think about how you adore his affection, drink in his every word and savor his every gesture. You're a troublemaker but are still so dependent on him. Maybe he was a little hasty and now he can finally relax. This little quality of yours though both confounded and captivated him.

⠀⠀

Azul is above all a strategist. He plans everything from the way you will meet for the first time to the way he will steal something from you. Maybe a talent, maybe a skill, but something will become his to satisfy that strange feeling he has in his chest every time he sees you. Weeks of plans are thrown out the window as soon as one day you sit in his office chair, wanting to make a contract with him. And that is the unique chance he has been waiting for, regardless of what your heart desires, he is able to achieve it and in return have you.

If only it were that simple... It's only after his whole overblot fiasco that you finally start to get closer, you still staying by his side to help him rebuild Mostro Lounge. And months later, friendship became a relationship due to Azul's calculations and assumptions. In the end you had your wish fulfilled and so did he, having you as his partner was like a dream come true. Yet, sometimes he wonders what you see in him.

He doesn't let that thought stay on his mind much, preferring to spend time with you, thinking about you, heavens he's so clingy he can't even keep his hands off you, that is, when you're alone of course. You're so sweet to him, bringing him coins for his collection and asking him how his day was, it's nice to have someone who cares. But it's terrible to imagine the ways that anyone who has a beef with him would hurt you for his actions, so Azul proposes another contract with the intention of protecting you from possible threats.

The contract in theory is simple: to remain under the twins' watch and protection. Though, your friends and other people tend to avoid you because of this, because Jade and Floyd are too intimidating. You particularly find them funny with their very different mannerisms, hovering over your shoulders like two shadows, Floyd pestering you while Jade supposedly tries to control him. Azul thinks this is a good contract, whether you think so or not - he can be convinced otherwise through persuasion.

Something that Azul didn't foresee, however, was that the twins would get bored of playing babysitter and would drag you somewhere. Jade wanted to show you his terrariums while Floyd wanted to take you to see their house, neither of them answering any of Azul's messages or calls, not even you but that's because you were trying to get the twins not to fight each other. So your escapades happen because of them, because of that Azul knows that you're not trying to leave him and he recognizes that, but due to his insecurity, every time you return to him Azul seems about to start crying while he wrap himself all over you.

If you tried to run away he could at least do this and that to prevent it, instead he tries to make you feel guilty for making him worry so much. He was about to cut off his own tentacles and eat them if you took one more second to walk through that door, is that what you wanted? It must be, otherwise you wouldn't have run away without saying anything to him >:(

Cuddle him now. Or else, he'll gonna be cranky and fussy. He just loves you so much and he knows you love as well, so why do you do this? Just let him love you completely and wholly.

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fabricated-misslieness · 4 months

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: prince alhaitham x knight male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: settling into your new duty

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.34k ~ PT.1 ~ PT.3

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: sword training, incredibly minor injury, classism, mention of civil war

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Sumeru is a kingdom of knowledge, the wisest, most strategic of all. Yet they had not foreseen the kidnapping of the Crown Prince, much less by a dragon.

Azar, the king of the nation, is a man that takes pride in his intelligence. He knows of risks and consequences as much as he does of rewards and outcomes—he uses this as his stake in the world of Teyvat. His immense knowledge and the expanse of his land strike fear in the other kingdoms, despite his nation's sworn neutrality. These aspects of his make him the most admired man in Sumeru.

At least, that is what the common folk think.

At first, the King did not seem to have noticed his adoptive son was taken; or at the very least, he didn't care.

The Crown Prince was a clever man himself. Ever since he was young, he had an insatiable thirst for knowledge. As he grew into his adulthood, his collection did not satisfy him still, even if he has shown that he is already smart enough to take his father's place.

Perhaps Azar saw him as a threat to his throne. The dragon was actually doing him a favor. Why did he need to undo a deed so convenient?

But his Queen begged him, and eventually he gave in. He could not have her daily weeping stain their reputation.

He sent you. Your men lacked experience, and you, among the rest of the war generals, were the only knight of low blood.

It was clear that he intended to rid himself of you. When the news that you had failed would eventually reach the castle, he would cradle his wife in his arms and tell her he had tried.

But then you were back, the beloved Crown Prince in your arms, and he was displeased.

The Queen wept, finally, out of joy.

It was she who bestowed upon you the great honor of being Alhaitham's Knight, his alone, and you should be grateful for it.

In her eyes, you should be grateful. In your comrades' eyes, you should not. You were to be ripped away from your beloved peers, all to protect the Prince you had already saved once.

You know you should agree with your comrades, and yet there is something inside of you that thinks otherwise...

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There was an oath.

You had promised many things, kneeled with your head pointed down to his feet. He stood in front of you, in his golden gown, with the most blessed waters from the churning river of the Asavan Realm in his hand. He poured this water onto your head as you spoke the words.

The water that streaked down your bloodied helmet and armor pooled red around his feet, as if the very words you spoke dripped down your body.

"I am your shield," You had said almost mechanically, "the blows upon your body will not be yours, but mine. I am your sword," You stared at his bare feet—even as he stood in the bloodied water he did not flinch, as though he too took the oath from you himself. "where you point, I will strike."

"I will serve and protect you as your Knight," You had said, then, with great conviction, a surge of emotion in your body you couldn't quite point an origin to, and said, "I am yours."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

What did Alhaitham need from a knight?

He was very thankful for what you had done for him–it was the first time in his life that he had thanked a knight, much less a low blood–but it did not mean he required his protection.

He did not need his shield, who would dare to strike him? He did not need his sword, who would he seek to harm?

He did not need you at all.

He didn't need you stalking behind him, every step he took mirrored by your feet, he would much rather you stayed behind. You were not allowed even to do that, it seemed. The oath was meticulous, your sense of obligation towards it even more so.

Yet, as he turned around to shout a command to keep you away, he could not.

How could he, the Crown Prince, not tell a simple command? He had done it all his life, to servants, to knights, to nobles.

And there you stood behind him, your steps stopping suddenly, your face turning startled as you had almost ran into him.

You were just serving your oath. You were just protecting him.

He turned back around and continued on without a word.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

The first night you turned him in for bed, bowed your head as you closed the doors, you didn't know what to feel.

But then, you had your first meal. It was big and hearty, nothing you'd ever eaten before. It felt like a King's feast: an entire roasted pig on a platter of lettuce, a basket of all assortments of bread, a big bowl of steaming rice, another platter of smoked brisket ready for the taking. All of this encompassed in one plate. You could enjoy this.

Then, when the servants redirected you to your new chambers, you got a room. Your own room, for the first time, in the royal chambers wing.

The moment you collapsed on the bed you let out a big sigh—heaven must feel like this.

For the first week, you are satisfied. You finally get to rest.

Then the second week comes, and you miss your brotherhood. The Prince is not a good companion. He does not speak to you nor address you, but you know he does care for your presence when you find him staring at you during conversations he does not quite care for.

His gaze is judging, then. At least you think so.

His eyes drag boredly over the expanse of your armor, like a foe on the other side of the battlefield looking for a chink in your armor, something to take advantage of.

Most of the time he finds nothing. Most of the time, he brings his eyes back to the person opposite him within the minute.

And that is that.

No non-noble knight nor servant was allowed to voice their opinion to royal blood; if they came to be in that position of lowly work, how could their opinion matter?

They were only allowed during open discussion, and even then, most brushed off their ridiculous notions.

Generals could, but you were no longer a general.

So you are silent, and so too is he. Most days he would be fine with this silence. Today he is not.

"You are just going to watch me read?" He had asked, a book poised over his lap. It was fiction. Scholars would be baffled by the choice, what need would the Prince fulfill with fiction? But he knew you were not going to say anything.

"Yes." It is simple. You are supposed to be simple.

"You may go."

"What?" Emotion, no longer simple. He had caught you off-guard, and now you were questioning his command.

He was merciful anyway, "Leave."

So you often spent afternoons in the middle of the week, when he was without duty and reading for leisure, with your comrades. Training, for there was nothing to do with the Prince that would keep your muscles built as they were supposed to be, and also, due to your time together, you had begun to crave the grueling hours of hard work. These hours were your respite.

Sometimes he came to watch. You found him in the corner of your eye. He though he was being sneaky.

He does not stare at you the same way he does when conversation no longer draws his attention. He stares at you with, what is it, entertainment?

You don't speak of it to him.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

One afternoon, he does not let you go.

He has to begun to be more tender with you. He's increased a lot of things as of late: his eyes flitting over to meet yours, his visits to your training sessions, greeting goodmorning and bidding goodnight. They are subtle, but welcome.

Today, he has given you the honor of sitting beside him. He is not holding a book. You think that perhaps today the focus of his leisure will be you. You are right.

"What's your name?" It hadn't occurred to you that he didn't know it.

"(y/n)." You had said then, and it was simple.

In Sumeru, a servant does not speak the words "I have something to say.", what would a master care for what a servant had to say? They say, instead, "I have something to report.", then it is something important.

"You might have not seen me, but I watch you train." You've noticed, and you find yourself working harder when he is there. "You seem happy then, should you not be strained?"

You have to tread on your words lightly. "Being with you, your highness...my duty has just been to follow you around, for now. It is not enough exercise."

The Prince's nose scrunches up and for a moment you think you've offended him. "You wish to exercise?"

"It is...a change of pace."

"Right..." He hums, his gaze fluttering away. "Well, I'll see if I can arrange something."

He does not. Perhaps his mother said no. She and his father were the only ones he could not object to; his father by hierarchy, and his mother by respect.

The next afternoon, again, you sit at his side. Today, he is admiring your sword.

"This is the one that cut down the dragon?" He asks, running his fingers over the blade.

"Yes, your highness." You nod. In a rise of panic, you forget that he is supposed to know certain precautions himself. "Be careful, your–!"

If he hadn't pricked his finger as he did, you would've been punished.

The blade falls harmlessly over his lap. He stared at his finger like he had never felt pain before, his eyebrows furrowed. You take his hand over your palm and examine the wound. It is akin to pricking one's finger on a needle, if not deeper. It is nothing serious.

He knows this, knows that the pain is lesser than that of an injury caused by even a paper, and yet he lets you examine it.

Touching a royal blood without explicit consent is punishable. He does not mention it.

"I should've been more careful," He speaks the words he sees so clearly at the forefront of your mind, "it's fine. I'm fine."

"Of course." You take away your hand, and for a moment he finds himself missing the cold steel of your armor.

He clears his throat and offers the blade back, "What do you think of your sword?"

It's a peculiar question. Swords were just tools to kill with, nothing more. Especially not for a low blood. This blade was standard, your fellows had the same blade. But it was different, you suppose.

The leather of the handle is frayed, the pommel flattened, and the edges of the sword sharper. It looks used, it looks yours.

"It has grown old." You sheath it away. "Its whistle is not as sharp, it does not cut the air as it had once did. But it has served me well."

To think an object ages...yes, he has seen it. He sees that some books' pages are light, and others are dark as if coffee-stained. But a sword? "And your armor?" He asks curiously, "Has it grown old as well?"

"Well," You flex the plates over your fingers, "there is dust and dirt in the cracks, and it feels tighter than it had once been, but that is just me growing."

So the armor wasn't old, but you were? You were hardly a couple years older than he, and yet...yes, he sees it. He sees the way you are aged by battle. What battle? The failed civil war inspired by "king" Deshret, perhaps. But you must have been fourteen when you fought it.

"Did you fight in the civil war?"

"Yes." A nod.

"Do you wear this same armor?"

"No." You let your hand fall over the center of your chest. "But I wear the same chainmail." You remember how it had felt when you were young, slipping past your wrists. You had bound the excess higher with leather. It made your gloves fit tighter.

"How many years did you fight?"

"Two. I was thirteen my first battle."

So he was wrong. He rarely ever was wrong. It didn't taste bitter on his tongue like most wrongs he'd spoken. It tasted like revelation.

"Thirteen?" He asks, his eyebrows raised.

"Yes, your highness." You say it like it is nothing.

"Open discussion." He declares. You did not need to reply anymore, you could speak unprompted.

"Some of my comrades were twelve." You let your hand slide down your leg, the glove feels heavy over your knee. "Most of them died their first battle, others their second. I was among the youngest to survive that first year."

He asked many questions after that, and you answered truthfully. He asked about the battlefield, the civil war, your encampment, and many more things you had to dig your mind for. Despite it being open discussion, he did not leave you time to talk more after the question was answered.

Perhaps you had grown tired of it, because you asked, "Why are you so interested, your highness?"

He paused. You had taken him off guard, "Well..."

He was curious. Why was he so curious? You were a low blood knight, akin to a servant. The peculiarities you held were merely your battle prowess and the fact you defeated a dragon, and he already knew these things. What more would he need to know?

He was curious for the first time about a knight, for you weren't a remarkable nor infuriating scholar or servant, but a simple knight.

"I am simply curious." He replied, then, because he did not have an answer.

You couldn't ask him for a better one.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Today there is no time for leisure, only appearances. You trailed behind him in the city whilst he showed his face. It was meant to demonstrate that the royals were not so out of touch; the Prince had always thought it foolish.

Especially hauling a knight around behind him and not even talking to him.

You've long since gotten used to it, so the conversation of the last two days and his apparent need for another today was quite the challenge.

Don't speak out of line, don't speak unprompted, don't offend, don't speak too much.

"What do you think of this?" He asked, holding up one of the traveling merchant's wares, a model of a Liyuan dancer carved from wood.

An opinion. He was asking you for an opinion. No one but your fellows did so. You clear your throat to dismiss your surprise, "It is good, you can see the subject clearly. However, the carving is not smooth."

He nods his head and sets the sculpture down. "Then, which would you pick?"

Just a small look at each of the sculptures and you shook your head, "I would not."

"Why is that?" He furrows his brows, he hadn't expected that.

"None of the carving is smooth. There are edges you could cut yourself with." The Prince rolls his eyes, he thinks you're only fearing for his safety, but you continue, "It does not make for an appealing sculpture. It looks like it was carved with a butcher's knife."

The Prince laughs then. You'd heard it before, but this time it sounds different. It sounds pleasant, and dare you say more genuine.

"Right," He smiles at you. It's rare and all the more beautiful. "a Sumeru carpenter is better, then?"

"I believe so, your highness."

He nodded at this and moved on. He seemed appreciative of your opinion. A first for you, coming from a noble blood. It felt, for a lack of better word, refreshing.

He asks you again for your opinion at different merchant stalls. He asks you about the quality of this embroidered fabric, your opinion on pig's blood–you've never had it before, to his dismay–and even simpler, about the color green.

All these opinion had affected his choices.

When you came upon another carpenter, this one unequivocally Sumeru, he had not asked you about a single sculpture specifically, as he had done with other merchants' wares. Instead, he waved his hand in front of the display and asked, "Which one do you like?"

It wasn't "which one do you find most appealing", then it would've been an opinion for him to take into account. He asked it like it was definitive.

"That one." You pointed at the sculpture of a tree, a mere weeping willow. It reminds you of the myth of Irminsul, but that is not why you chose it. The leaves remind you of the color of his iris; the orange shading of the bark, the ring around his pupil; and the gray-lilac of its flowers, the silver of his hair.

He does not question you, only shoots a smile at the vendor, completes the transaction and moves on.

It was strange, the way your opinions mattered to him, for all the reasons given before. It might've made your peers feel powerful, even, that they had so much sway over a royal blood's decisions, much less the Crown Prince. But to you, it only felt...like you were seen, in a way. That you mattered.

You did matter, in situations such as battle and the war table; but you never mattered in the smaller things, like what color pleased you.

He seemed to think otherwise.

When you returned, that same day, to the castle, it was already evening. Dinner, however, is not served yet, so again you are left to your leisure.

The Prince considers the objects he has bought. His father does not like him to keep them—they are made less than skillfully in his eyes, by low-blood hands and low-blood artisans. He buys them only for show, because, again, that is what his father wishes. The King does not make appearances himself.

The Prince never really thought it a waste. It was just the way things were, much the same as the world created rain only to dump it over barren soils.

However, as he held these objects in his hands, he thought it was a waste; not of material, but of your opinion. The sculpture, most of all, as you had picked it out of desire.

He gives the servant that greets you at the door most of the things he's bought, then turns to you with the sculpture.

His hand extends it to you. For a moment, you are too dumbfounded to realize he is offering it to you. "My Prince, I–"

"Take it." He only says, his arm still extended; neither does he mention the way you call him yours.

For the first time since you were declared a war general, there is sheepishness in your gestures as you take the sculpture. "..thank you."

It is not in his blood, even less in his title, to say the following words, "You're welcome."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

He stood a little closer today whilst you trained, even more when you beckoned him closer. It drove your fellow knights away, fearful of the Prince's gaze, but you didn't mind it. Perhaps you should've. It was because of him that you missed a chance to reconnect with them since last week, after all; but he was merely curious.

His curiosity about you was also curious. You couldn't quite put your finger on why he was so interested.

Except you could. You had saved him from a dragon. That is enough.

Although you knew the King and the Queen both were each inquisitive in their nature, they were hardly ever curious about their servants and their knights. With how alike the Crown Prince was to them, you would've imagined him to be the same way. He had been the same way in the beginning. Something sparked a change.

You don't find yourself worrying about it, not now.

Instead, you worry about your stance. You worry about the way your sword strikes the dummy and you worry about the way your feet strike the muddy ground.

Most of all, you worry about not making yourself a fool—or...

Is it that that you worry about, or is it about making an impression? Impressing him?

In your distraction, you make a mistake. You swing down your sword, and it does not quite sever the dummy's stuffed, fabric arm. You click your tongue and dislodge the blade, about to strike the dummy again when he speaks.

"You said your sword was old?" He phrases it as a question, but he continues as if it wasn't. "Why not replace it?"

"It works the same." You reply, in the next moment, severing the fabric arm entirely.

His voice cuts through the sound of your efforts, "The frayed handle is not hard to hold?"

"Perhaps." A frustrated grunt.

"And the pommel doesn't affect the weight of the swing?"

"It does." Another.

"And yet you keep it." This statement has you stopping.

It has you turning around to face him, balancing the sword in your hands so as to show him each aspect, regardless of the fact he has examined it before. "The other men believe it is luck to keep the same items. I do not know if it is true; my men wore old armor and wielded old swords when they were melted down by dragon's breath. What I do know that my blade holds is sentiment. It holds memories. I did not wield this blade during the civil war–those are bad memories–but I have wielded it during moments of hardship, and most of all during moments of victory. Killing the dragon, for one."

It was not open discussion. He hadn't declared it, and neither had he asked you a question. You weren't supposed to give an answer.

He seems shocked, not at the unprompted rant, but at your words. "...yes."

It had not occurred to him that the age of things was good, nor that it might hold sentimental value. The tunics he wears this month are not the same as the last. The tunic he will wear for this year's Enlightenment Festival will not be the same tunic as the one of the year before. His plate is not the same each dinner, and his utensils neither.

Nothing in his life has been the same, permanent. Everything changes. He had never thought it a bad thing, not until now.

Your breathing steadies, the frustration fades. You speak your apologies, kneeled with your head pointed down to his feet, the pose of a beggar, the pose of an oath-taker. "I'm sorry, your highness. I did not mean to speak out of line, I only–"

"Haitham." He replied.

His name? You knew his name. You keep your gaze on his feet, "Prince Alhaitham, I greatly apologize–"

"Haitham." He repeats. Not Prince Haitham, not Alhaitham. Just Haitham, no respect to the name, no "Al", no title. Just Haitham.

You don't know what to say.

"Lift your gaze, (y/n)." He speaks your name...tenderly. Full of apprehension, you obey, looking into his green irises and red-rimmed pupils. When you meet his eyes, you see that he looks down at you not with anger, but with sympathy. "Speak my name. No apology."

"Haitham." You say. It feels strange on your tongue: titleless, respectless.

He smiles. It is a tiny thing, but it is directed to you. "I forgive you." He offers yet another mercy, "You don't have to impress me, even though I know you will continue to, subconsciously."

He was right, but it eased your nerves a bit.

You turn around and continue to train. Your sword whistles in the air, now, with ease; creating a song he quite enjoyed. The uninterrupted harmony created by metal as it thrummed with each coordinated swing of the sword felt akin to the pieces he played during his harpsichord lessons, though the playing of the instrument seemed much more mundane in comparison to this.

It was much more than music too, it was a dance. The step of your foot with each lunge and each strike–recovering from the strength required for each swing and simultaneously gathering more strength–seemed to take as much grace and effort as a ballerina.

There was beauty in this, beauty in the skill to slaughter, ignoring the reason for which to know it.

"My Knight," He speaks not your name, but to be his is still a special condition that sparks emotion, "what do you say I follow you around tomorrow?"

The excitement created by the way he addressed you turned into confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

Alhaitham shakes his head with a smile, "Open discussion."

"Why do you need to see what I do on the daily, your highness?" After all, your routine was hardly important. No one would ever ask such a question of a knight nor a servant.

"I am merely curious."

He was always curious as of late, mainly about you. It was starting to seem normal now. "My routine...my duty is to be your protector, your highness." You press your lips into a pitiful line, "I do not have anything outside of that."

He frowned. It was true, and he hadn't considered it. It was a strange thing, to not know what came next, unlike how he always did. Actually, it felt a bit exciting. "Then how about what you did before?"

He likely knew what you had done before, if he ever paid attention to the knights' routine. Yours was never separate, you've been doing the same thing for over a decade. But...you had actually started to miss it. It was evident in the thrill you received from taking up your training once more, even if sparsely.

When he speaks up again you think he only seeks to break the silence, but his voice was soft, empathetic? "I'm interested."

It sounded narcissistic at face value, but he was easing your concern from the mundanity of the routine. "Sure."

You hadn't imagined the Prince ever taking an interest in you, much less another noble. This will be interesting.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #🎟 // genshin impact #🎫 // alhaitham #🌸 // success!

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darkestspring · 11 months

Note

Reading your last post of hades x persefone and the idea of a one-shot apollo x daphne, the idea of a one-shot dealing with the abduction of Helen from Sparta came to my mind.

Jacaerys has always been in love with Aemond's sweet and innocent younger sister, so when he returns to King's Landing he kidnaps her and makes her his wife, (clearly he forces her, since she doesn't love him).

And when the royal family finds out, they don't stand for it and burn with anger. Aemond erupted like a volcano full of rage, how dare they take you, the purest and most beautiful maiden, force you to marry and lose your virginity to a bastard? Kidnap the one he loved? His sweet little sister? He would definitely make them pay with fire and blood.

This unleashes a warlike conflict, and you can decide what will be the end of this story.

Whispers had marked the dragon's court from the moment the third princess, [NAME] was born, and then whispers had erupted for years afterwards.

The young princess was a year younger than the second prince but was beloved deeply. By all except her father, the courts would retell. The king had little interest in any of his children that were not Princess Rhaenyra and yet, Princess [NAME] found solace in other things.

When her time was not spent looking for flowers to add to her collection, to be pressed, dried, and documented (a hobby that her queen mother indulged in happily), she was often found with her older brother, Aemond.

And yet, nearly everyone was aware of the strange attention that Prince Jace gave her.

How he would often find flowers and give them to her, how he would resort to acting out to get her attention when that did not work (which more often than not, led to her frowning at him with distaste as she led her brother away from him). How he would always be wherever she was.

Queen Alicent hated it but none hated it more than Prince Aemon, who had to be restrained when rumors broke out that Prince Jace had taken Princess [NAME]'s first kiss.

It had been a relief when Princess Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone for a permanent stay, even after the incident in driftmark. Princess Rhaenyra had done all she could to attempt to secure a marriage between Princess [NAME] and her son, but Alicent would not budge, so nothing could be done.

Jace wasn't satisfied with that. [NAME] was the only girl he would ever marry, of that he was sure. He had been enchanted by her and would never take another.

But such desires were easily managed.

That was, until they came face-to-face with each other as teenagers.

Jace was taken aback by how much she had grown, with her soft, delicate features and her soft hands clutching onto her documenting journal, her third one (courtesy of her grandfather), jace swore on his deceased father, he would never let her get away.

They say that when a Targaryen loves, entire cities burn to the ground and it was true. Jace would burn the entire world to the ground, just for her. He would slaughter masses for the chance to see her smile and Daemon had noticed it immediately.

The awe ever-present in his step-son's dark eyes, how he deflated at the loss of her attention.

"If you wish for her attention," He started, gazing towards his youngest niece before looking at Jace, "Perhaps more extreme measure,"

"Like what?" Jace was on the verge of begging. What should I do? He wanted to cry. All I want is for her to look at me. He didn't care about his own desperation.

"You're a dragon," Daemon patted his shoulder. "Take what you want? What should you care about the opinions of others. Take her to dragonstone and make her your wife."

That's exactly what he did.

"I will not be held prisoner by you!" Princess [NAME] hissed at her nephew, bristling as he got closer.

Jace held her hands in his grip (his gentle grip surprised the princess as she stared at their joined hands). "Not prisoner, of course not. My wife."

That was almost worse, but she could not think of anything to say before he leaned down and kissed her, softly, and it almost made her want to cry.

She wished he would be as awful as men who held their wives captive were in books. Cruelty would give her a reason to hate him but he was gentle with her, reverence in how he treated her that made her want to cry.

"M-my mother won't stand for this! My brother's will come for me!" She hissed, yanking her hands back.

And stand for it, Queen Alicent would not. When they news broke, that Prince Jace had stolen her beloved daughter away, she collapsed to the ground and screamed a blood curdling scream, one that cried of anger and grief.

None of the Queen's other children were much better and everyone could tell the worst.

It was war.

Truly, beauty is damning.

#house of the dragon x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #yandere jacaerys velaryon x reader #yandere jacaerys velaryon #yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere hotd x reader

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raayllum · 2 months

Text

We don't appreciate Soren's batshit evolving view of Rayla (and Rayllum enough) tbh.

Think about it: you're Soren. Your dad and sister tell you the princes you were sworn to protect got kidnapped by a Moonshadow elf (some of whom you just fought, killed, and watched your fellow crownguard be killed by). You never met her and never saw the encounter in the dungeons that Claudia did, so you have no reason to doubt this. Then your dad gives you a mission that curdles your stomach and you find yourself more than half hoping that elf has just killed the boys because that means you don't have to dirty your hands and have plausible deniability of your own and your dad's involvement in all of this.

Then you find the Moonshadow elf and she's young. Younger than you. Asleep; it feels wrong. But then it's a trick and she's got the momentary upper hand! She's talented. She's sarcastic(?) and pretty. She's dead meat—

Then Callum runs in, in front of your raised sword, and defends her. He says she's his friend. He says she's a good elf. (How can that be possible?) He says you have to learn to put aside your differences. Your brain is breaking. You assume nothing will change in the morning. And then the weirdest thing is that the elf has the same reaction to your sister and Callum flirting as you do, a big ugh. What's up with that?

You speculate about Moonshadow madness and lie about the king, and the elf gives you an Intense Look that, unfortunately, is not because she's hot and talented, but because she's suspicious. She looks after Ezran like he's her own little brother. When she tricks you guys, again, it's just her on the ground and the princes safely on the stupid moon bird.

Then you don't see her again until it's raining, and she's shown up seemingly of nowhere to save this dumb monstrous dragon. She can't cut the chains and she's outnumbered. An easy prize. Claudia tells you not to kill her because she might be useful. You haven't really made up your mind about it when—

Callum is there in the rain, following after her like a good loyal knight of his own. Callum does dark magic. You wonder if this was the plan all along or not, since the elf doesn't look happy about it. In her your periphery you see her run to him anyway once the dragon is freed. Then it smashes you into the rocks, and everything gets fuzzy.

You don't see her again until at least a week and a half later at the Storm Spire. Ezran calls for both of them (are they always a package deal) and they come running. They exchange wary looks as you give explanations. You can hear their voices, dimly, in the queen's antechamber while you play a game of chase with Ezran and the Dragon Prince. Callum looks to her when you ask to speak and she gives you an eye-roll of permission. Her name is Rayla. She thinks you're more than just a big dump lump (compliment). And maybe you wonder if she's a little more than a friend to Callum as she takes his hand and squeezes, watching Ezran fly off into the night. Maybe you don't.

But they're not holding hands when you find them the next morning so it's fine to interrupt, and you don't know for sure they're a thing until everything is said and done—until you learn that not only is Callum more than over your sister, he flung himself off the top of that tall tall mountain to catch Rayla without even knowing the spell would work.

It's intense and overwhelming to the point you might worry about it if she didn't also look at him like he hung the stars, holding hands in front of the Dragon Queen—on the way back home to Katolis. Ezran gives you pieces of whatever Callum's told him, that Rayla needs a new home. That she got banished.

Every time you're with her at the castle it's a group activity, like sparring or dinner. She doesn't open up easily, even if she's softer—more awkward. You learn that her people like dancing and not much else. Ez and Callum are both very protective of her, Callum especially. She sleeps in a lot. She seems lost. You come along to the Moon Nexus because your king is going, and when Rayla finally asks to talk with you one-on-one, it's because she's chasing answers about your father, and an elf you think she might consider family.

You help Callum and Allen rebuild the Moon Nexus. You don't know what it's for till she's under the water (you don't know that she's scared of water) and Callum is kneeling at the shoreline like he's going to lose his mind with every second that she doesn't surface. The weird Moon lady says your mind will be shattered, that you can be stuck there between life and death forever. Ezran helps Callum dive beneath the waves anyway. It's one of the longest hours of your life, waiting there—because Rayla was brave enough to do what you couldn't, in looking after the boys, and you still have so much to make up for with Callum (plus, Opeli will kill you if you don't come back with the crown prince).

Finally, as the sky begins ever so slightly to lighten, you help drag them out of the water. Callum embraces her—"I couldn't lose you"—like he's never going to let go. Rayla hugs him back just as tight before she kisses him sweetly. You think you'll have to try and entertain Ez tomorrow to give them some privacy, a bit, for Callum's birthday tomorrow.

Rayla is gone in the morning. You don't even hear about what happened from him; Ezran tells you, eyes rimmed in red. Gone without a trace in the middle of the night, leaving only a letter and promises of love behind.

Something bristles inside you; at least your mother had the decency to say goodbye.

Callum is miserable on the way back to Katolis. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat. He lasts three weeks before he gets angry, and you never knew his temper could be that bad. He goes off to Xadia to search guided by his wings, and brought back by the cold every few weeks or so, continually empty handed. Opeli grounds him (literally); his mood worsens as snow thickens.

You take the brunt of his anger without complaint, because you is also smirking and good with a sword and worried about Viren, and because Callum took the brunt of your projection and resentment and jealousy for years. You can handle a few months.

It is not just a few months. Callum gets worse, and then, slowly, after the first anniversary of her being gone, he gets better. It means less shouting, but also less of him—he spends more hours locked away in your father's old study, throwing more and more of himself into magic. You remind yourself that it's okay. It's just primal magic.

(Surely, Callum got rid of your father's old dark magic books. Why would he keep them?)

Another year passes. You're upset at Rayla for leaving, for how much she upset both the boys, for how miserable Callum has been. At the same time, you want her to return, not only for their happiness, but for your peace of mind, because if she does, it'll either be with her mission successful and your family vanquished for good, or because there was nothing to find. She might even have information about Claudia.

Then she does show up, and Callum can barely look at her. He brings the mirror to the Storm Spire. When he falls, Rayla catches him. When he retreats to the Pinnacle, she follows, and you interrupt. You protest in the Drakewood, because your father told you that you had to carry burdens alone and that never did anyone good, and Callum lays down distance that feels strange and exclusionary. When Rayla is standoffish amongst the trees, you critique her—over your younger brother figure, but also over the dragon. You don't know how she's become so changed (how she could leave the same way your mother did).

The next time you see her, she's radiantly happy you're alive and gone just as quickly. Then Callum pulls her from the rubble after one heart wrenching moment, because Callum when she was just gone was rough enough, but a Callum when she's dead is awful to imagine, and—

You watch him forgive her in every way that matters. He stays with her at the castle even as you go off with Ezran and Corvus to do important dragon stuff, and holds her hand as they climb out of the water. He gets madder than you've ever seen him when Finnegrin torments her. You watch him do the impossible first hand to save her life.

You watch him offer to get out of the water, to delay the mission, when she's too scared to. (You didn't even know she was scared of water.) You embrace both of them when everything is said and done, once Callum has nearly fallen over in his haste to just hold her hand.

You still, at the end of the day, don't know Rayla that well—bits and pieces to construct a fragmented but real view of someone who's bold and beautiful and brave and kind, but snarky and judgemental and prone to leaving, too. Balanced, even if it's not deep.

But Callum's love for her? It's as deep as the ocean, and that's kinda what matters most.

#sorayla #katolis boys #this is my roman empire #text post #mine #this got away from me but listen #soren's last interaction with rayla loosely being callum (awkwardly) turning her down #immediately like 2.5 days Max later being #callum weeping and hugging her and probably treating her exactly how he does in 5x01 #IMMEDIATELY post 4x09 is. too funny to pass up #soren's emotional whiplash im a believer

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cvlutos · 1 year

Text

OUR FAIRYTALE ENDING

✡︎ May.09.2023 | 2.3K| Commissioned by @starstruckcaptain

✡︎ Yandere! Kalim A. | Fem!Reader

✡︎ Synopsis: It started with a simple fairy tale, the devolved into a obbesassion, the became an illness. One that has no true cure.

“A true love kiss that seals is binding. Ties to lovers together. No matter the odds.”

— Childhood Fairy Tale

The thick pages of the large hard-covered book are heavy in his small hands, placed heavily in his lap, as his wide garnet red eyes dart quickly across the old, yellowed pages, reading the old fading ink. He hears the gentle rustling of wind that dances through wooden wind chimes, creating gentle clattering as he focuses on the pages. Lips a gap in utter awe with the old fairy tale.

The young heir is tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the ancient library, sitting crisscross beneath a dust-covered wooden desk, using a long wax candle, placed upon a golden hand-held candlestick, using the gentle orange flame to light the small corner of where he sat and give him the ability to see. Still dressed in his silk pajamas and barefoot as he sits upon the plush velvet cushion, one that he dragged from his bedroom with the help of his faithful servant and closest friend, Jamil Viper, who has currently disappeared somewhere in the library, though Kalim, knows he��s always near.

He always is.

Yet that isn't what the young heir cares for, not at this moment. He wants to fall in love like the prince in his story does. Who is so kind and sweet, who gives to the poor, who sees the good in everyone. The prince in his tale showers his love in gold and jewels, and dances within sunlit days and cool moonlit nights away. Who holds them close and seals their love with a kiss. Yes, this is what he desires more than anything.

To get married to his own love. To his princess.

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

“Shall I have you for all my own! Yes, I shall slay dragons, fight demons, and save you for all you are! Because I love you! And what is stronger than love?"

— Childhood Fairy Tale

“Do you think soulmates exist?”

Kalim walks along the towered wall, arms outstretched as he balances, placing one foot in front of the other, with Jamil by his side, holding the young heir’s belongings as they walk around the large vibrant courtyard, wasting time before Kalim's next school lesson, which is history. One of Kalim's least favorite, since the tutor is quite rude.

The large grassy courtyard is filled with unique plants--ranging from distant flowers, that fill the air with a rich fragrant aroma, and lush green bushes that hid colorful berries, to elegant and giving fruit trees, that Kalim occasionally takes from, filling his stomach with fresh oranges and plums.

“I don't see why they don't exist.” Jamil’s answer is simple, honest—like he hadn't bothered to think about it more than a mere moment, allowing Kalim to indulge in his fantasies, while he focused on making sure Kalim didn't topple off the stone wall and hurt himself. Which he knows Kalim wouldn't care about, wanting to immediately visit the palace doctor, desiring to be spoiled and given a handful of sweet candy for listening so well. Obviously trying to avoid the stern history tutor. While Jamil knows the doctor will send him to be scolded by his parents for being so careless about the young successor's health.

Which is something Jamil would rather avoid.

Charcoal grey eyes occasionally glance over, watching the heir’s feet skip and balance on the wall, occasionally wobbling, which nearly gave the young retainer a heart attack.

“I wonder where my soulmate is! She just has to be thinking about me!”

Not paying attention to Jamil's clear nervousness and annoyance with constantly having to divide his attention, Kalim continues hopping and bounding along the old wall carelessly. White hair shifting in the mild breeze as the loose clothing he wore sways and is pulled by the wind. Earning a delighted laugh from the young successor follows the wind’s pull, carelessly falling off the wall in one fluid motion. Jamil’s face pales as he rushes to the other side, jumping over the fence, still carrying the heavy school bag. Watching Kalim lay on his back, unphased as he lands in plush grass. Staring up at the bright blue sky, arms spread out gaily.

“And when we met Jamil! I'll give her the sweetest kiss! Then we’ll get married!”

Jamil bites his tongue and merely nods in return, gently placing the bag on the ground, taking the moment to sit in the shade of the stone wall, listening to Kalim laugh away. Letting the young heir to the Asim Family have his daydreams. Cause eventually, he will be saddled with reality, a harsh reality.

Even Kalim Al-Asim is not untouchable to the world of arranged marriages.

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

“Even in your faults of delusion. I shall cherish you—clear your mind of horrors and love you eternally.”

— Childhood Fairy Tale

The pen scratches along the paper, held by a shaky hand that moves across the page, quickly and frantically. Barely aware of what he writes, but knowing he has to write down what he remembers of his dream. A dream so vivid that it seemed real—that it was real. His milky white hair was in complete disarray, with drool decorating the side of his lips, and sweat coating his skin. The cool desert air does little to cool him, as the windows remain open, giving a clear view of the bright full moon that barely illuminates his pages. He can barely see, barely make out the words he writes messily, still in a half-sleep daze, but he needs to remember.

It’s late in the night, and he's awake before either Jamil or any of the other numerous servants checked on him, eager to serve every whim and need. While only the two guards were stationed outside his door possibly awake, but quite unaware of the quiet rambles of the heir, who drew a messy portrait of the woman in his dream. He sits upon the plushness of his bed, with a leather-bound journal in his lap, filled with other dreams of this same woman and stories that were written poorly but stories he adores that speak of you and him.

You have filled his life unlike any other.

Kalim dreamed of a pretty woman with pretty eyes. A woman that loved him, that desired him, heart and soul. That threw herself into his arms and held him so desperately. Cupping his face and whispering over and over and over how much she loved him. How she'd wait forever and ever and ever for him. Those dreams would matter less once they met.

The brain is a cruel thing.

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

“If you do not love me, then I accept that your feelings are your own. But I cannot deny mine, my pure feelings of want! I will love you. Forever.”

— Childhood Fairy Tale

There’s slight worry in his ways, a slight obsession that fills Kalim, as he turns woman after woman away, only holding eyes for one and giving no other a chance. Holding out for the woman he loves and loves him in return.

Still, kindness is etched into his being, rejecting each in utter honesty, speaking of why he cannot love them. Each woman leaves with nothing but understanding, that leaves with the feeling of rejection... Dull.

Leaves each to hope and to find love in one who's as devoted as he, as Kalim speaks of nothing but his true love. As his presence alone emits such devotion and passion with great fervor that you would think that his love was real.

That all he speaks was truth. That this mysterious woman was real—and she is. To him.

Jamil is the only one aware of the truth, the only one aware that Kalim lives within his own lies—within his own delusions.

Yet he keeps such thoughts to himself.

Allowing the young heir to ramble on and on, to speak endlessly about his beautiful, enchanting lover, to show sketch after sketch and mourn that he could never recreate her beauty, but once he found her, he would know immediately. Jamil says nothing, merely sits, and watches Kalim flip through his journal, page after page filled with nothing but her, her, her.

A Her without a name.

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

Night Raven College does nothing to curve his growing obsession. To stomp out this flame that burns and festers within his chest.

"I had another dream."

Jamil tries to keep his placated look, only sharing a brief look behind him, watching garnet eyes look utterly lovesick. Remembering not of his outbursts that follow after he awakes from his dreams—dreams that have Kalim waking up screaming—sobbing his eyes out in pain as if he was being stabbed and ripped apart. Screams that frighten the other dormmates, as their housewarden wakes up covered in sweat, tossing off his blankets and pillows in mass hysteria. While others desperately call and usher Jamil into the room. Who forces the others out as he holds Kalim onto the large bed, forcing his body to go limp from exhaustion. Sobs turning into faint mumbles, silently wailing about how badly he needs them, how he could die from the simple pain of being far from them, and how fate keeps them apart.

"It hurts," he cries, it hurts that he can't be with his love. Eyes fluttering close. After so many years, it's so painful to dream. Nights that force Jamil to remain by his side, forced to console his "friend" who doesn't want kind words but merely wants her.

And in the mornings, it is no better.

With Jamil ushered his heir awake, gently shaking his shoulders, waiting for Kalim to open his eyes—to open his eyes to the waking world. Only for him to throw tantrums, sobbing and begging for Jamil to let him go back. To let him her. "Please, let me see her. Please", Kalim sobs, body limp as Jamil practically drags him from bed.

Kalim wants to spend his days in his fantasy only.

His retainer does well to avoid the topics of love and dreaming, doing well to keep Kalim, for the most occupied with anything else. Leaving no time for Kalim to think about her--you--for a moment.

Yet sometimes this obsession seeps through the cracks. Slipping past the several walls Jamil has built to keep him sane.

Kalim's voice is a whisper amongst the sea of people, walking side by side with Jamil, who carries his and the heir's bag with a tepid look, more focused on navigating through the many students and not be late to their next class. Wanting Kalim to do anything but speak about you.

Kalim doesn't notice his friend's disinterest, used to Jamil's silent air, and far too deep in his mind, far too in love with the idea he has built.

He continues talking.

“But this time it wasn't in the courtyard, but the school gardens.” There’s an optimistic tone in his voice, one that makes Jamil sick. He says nothing, as Kalim walks with a certain breeze in his step as he moves, unconcerned by the weird glances he got as the two glid through the crowd, a delighted smile upon his face. Jamil gives a short hum, letting Kalim know he was somewhat listening, which Kalim believed was highly important. Jamil had to listen, and he had to absolutely like his lover, and care for her as his retainer cares for him.

Which is something Jamil has heard numerous times, from long-time friends to distant guests he was sure that Kalim would never see again. And under any other circumstances, Jamil would give a blunt ‘Absolutely. A friend of yours is a dear friend of mine’, with a deep bow, while easily lying through his teeth with a faux sweet tone, something that Kalim would believe without any worry.

Yet this time, Kalim was serious.

Garnet eyes were unmoving, and lips pressed together, sitting more poised like a ruler--like a king that deserved respect. Kalim was not asking, nor making a random comment nor gesture of goodwill. He was demanding that Jamil swear it--swear upon his oath that he made to Kalim since the day he was born. To vow that he would care for his love.

Forcing Jamil to not see him as an overly innocent man who was hopelessly in love, but as the next heir of the Al-Asim Family who had found his future bride. He, whose word is absolute. And Jamil did, pressing his forehead to the cold marble ground, swearing upon his life to care for her. And after a moment, Kalim was satisfied, returning back to his carefree self a moment later.

“Jamil… She said she was here. Waiting for me to find her.”

Kalim stops, the halls clearing slowly. His gaze stares out into the school courtyard below, standing silently in the open stone halls, wind rustling through his hair as he gathers his thoughts before the large open windows. His hand clutches the ends of his shirt with nothing but a grin.

A chill runs along Jamil’s spine, staring at Kalim with unrevealing eyes, lips pressed together as he gives a firm nod. Inching to move as he watches garnet eyes fill with something unlike him while searching his retainer’s before frowning.

“You don't seem happy—”

“I am.” Jamil’s words are quick, watching the dark look unfamiliar look disappear quickly, his smile automatically returns. Unable to hide his happiness nor remain still, he practically lunges onto his closest friend with a tight hug, squeezing tightly.

“You’ll help me find her…” Kalim speaks, but he follows with a gentle sigh and a headshake, “I know you will.” It’s a command. One that isn't forceful, nor threatening, but an expectation.

Jamil is his servant after all.

“Of course, I will.”

#t.manor.horror.stories #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere kalim al asim #yandere kalim x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst yandere #kalim al asim smut #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #kalim al asim x reader #tw noncon #t.manor.commissions

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twstjam · 10 months

Text

I have some writing juices today but idk if I'll finish something enough to post so here are some "Malleyuu scenes I can see vividly in my head and really want to write but haven't gotten around to yet" because who knows WHEN if ever I'll write these.

(DISCLAIMER: It's not specified but these are all set in aus!! Canon compliance? I'm sure she's lovely but I don't know her)

Scene where Yuu wakes up in the Draconias' castle after being rescued by Prince Malleus (secretly their bestie Tsunotarou) and they get dragged around by the castle staff into a warm bath, fitted into fancy castle clothes, and guided to an extravagant dining table to have a mouth-watering breakfast. Everyone is making a fuss about how Yuu is the prince's special guest so they HAVE to be served flawlessly and have all their needs met, meanwhile Yuu is just. Incredibly confused.

Scene where Yuu gets attacked/kidnapped and the Heartslabyul boys are there to save them, but suddenly a bigass dragon shows up out of nowhere and ofc everyone is scared shitless. The dragon fucks up the attackers/kidnappers so Heartslabyul and Yuu take their chance to flee. Before they can get away though, the dragon swoops down on them. They all drop to the ground, but the dragon manages to snatch up Yuu in its claws (with Grim squished in there too) and flies off with them.

Yuu gets kidnapped part 2: Heartslabyul FREAKS out bcs of course they do their friend just got yoinked by a DRAGON. But when Adeuce go to save them (against Riddle's orders ofc. It's too dangerous and he didn't wanna risk losing them too 🥺) they're unexpectedly welcomed into the Draconias' castle and instead of seeing their friends in peril like they expected, they stumble upon the strange sight of Yuu and Grim living luxuriously; being fed the most delicious foods, sleeping on the silkiest sheets, and being dressed in the finest clothes. Neither Yuu and Grim know wtf is going on either but they're not complaining.

Scene where Yuu gets a message from their friend Tsunotarou to evacuate the people of their town. Tsunotarou doesn't explain why, but Yuu trusts him so they do as he says. After evacuating, Yuu along with the townsfolk watch from afar as an army of fae led by dragons descend upon the kingdom.

Possible part 2 to the previous one? The country's been liberated from the tyrant king or whatever and the fae are helping the humans get back on their feet or smthg. Anyways scene where Yuu is either: a) summoned to stand before the fae royalty (THE DRAGONS) b) VISITED by the fae royalty (still THE DRAGONS) and for both they think they're in big trouble for whatever reason but then PLOT TWIST one of the dragons is TSUNOTAROU!!!! (these two last ones could fit into my one-shot "Break in the Clouds" actually :O)

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #malleyuu #malleus draconia #twst yuu #ramshackle prefect #heartslabyul #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst grim #heartshackle my utmost beloved #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x yuu #malleus x yuu #malleus x mc #malleus draconia x mc #matcha nonsense #matcha writes a bit

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anjelicawrites · 7 months

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The winner takes it all

Chapter I

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Synopsis: inspired by the Æthelflæd and Erik's storyline in The Last Kingdom. Might be spoilerish if you haven't seen it (go watch it!!!), even though I've just stolen the inspiration and went on with the story my way.

Warnings: Canon compliant violence, kidnapping, reference to Aemond’s brothel experience.

A/N: reader is AFAB, they/them pronouns are used (they are called “lady” and “daughter of the North”). The only descriptor is that they have long hair

A/N 1: this is an AU. Look at me taking the canon story of Westeros and yell “Parkhour!” as I jump out of the window clutching it in my hands.

18+ only, tank you!

The story of how you found yourself in your current predicament is quite easy, almost laughable in its simplicity.

When the Valyrian troops had mobilized and marched North, your foolish husband had forced you to accompany him during the war, leaving you an easy prey for the Targaryen brothers, who had invaded the camp, while the men were trying to conquer a city that was left empty on purpose.

You had tried to flee and hide and when that didn't work, you had fought for your freedom, to no avail, Prince Aemond was a far too skilled swordsman, compared to you. Still, you had confronted him: you were a daughter of the North, if your people weren’t giving up, you weren’t, either!

He had stared at you with a surprisingly soft eye in contrast with the definitive, yet gentle, way he had told you that a fight would be of no use, yet you had refused to lower your weapon, your hand trembling around the hilt notwithstanding: you were going to try and conquest your freedom, or die, if necessary.

His men had laughed and he had hushed them with a cold stare

"As you wish" he had said, drawing his sword.

You had known you had not a chance by seeing the fluidity of his movements, but you weren't going to go down without a fight. As you had tried to get the upper hand, you had realized he was humoring you, letting you play, like a cat would with a mouse, until you had fallen on your back, your sword too far away for you to recover. You had lain there, waiting for death to approach and he had surprised you by grabbing your wrist to force you on your feet, his left hand tight around the nape of your neck, you frozen in fear as you had seen the cruel smiles of the men surrounding you

"They are precious - Prince Aemond had said calmly - they are our greatest bounty" and the pieces had fallen in front of your face.

Even though running away was pointless, you had tried to elbow him in the stomach and he had just pulled your trashing body over his shoulder, a firm hand to keep you there, as he had walked towards his brother and their army.

You had heard the dragons before you truly saw them, their powerful breathing and movements rocking the earth.

Prince Aemond had stopped and gracefully removed your body from his shoulder, a firm hand around your arm to keep you from going anywhere, but it was not needed, the vision of the powerful beasts had froze both your mind and body: you couldn't believe the dragoness Vhagar could be so massive. You've heard stories, who hadn't, but the reality was another thing, your eyes couldn’t compute and your brain couldn’t accept that a creature this big was capable of living and breathing in front of you. Why did the Gods old and new allow for such a creature to exist?

Using your shock against you, Prince Aemond had forced you to move, until you were at Vhagar’s side and there you had stayed, rooted, incapable of hearing what the Prince was telling you to do. It was strangers' arms that had forced you up the beast's massive body and it was Prince Aemond who had chained you to the saddle, you were too dumbfounded to do or say anything.

It was when Vhagar had moved to fly, that you had started screaming and thrashing, forcing Aemond to curl one arm around your body; you were going nowhere.

The feeling of Vhagar soaring into the sky had pushed your stomach up to your throat and you had to physically force yourself not to throw up, sitting still, eyes closed in terror as the beast flew vertically upward.

"Don't be afraid - Prince Aemond had told you calmly the moment Vhagar was horizontal again - these chains are Valyrian steel, you will not fall".

You could only answer with a litany of scared noes, shaming yourself and your House, earning a joyless chuckle from your captor.

"You saddled for two" you had said after what felt like hours, eyes still closed in fear, mind calmer

"Of course"

"You planned this, all of this"

"We lost a city but, thanks to you, we will conquer the whole of the North".

You had tried to dislodge his arm from around your waist and he had let you, but where could you go?

You had noticed how gently Vhagar was flying. She, or better her rider, had seemed keen on trying to make the journey less of a trauma as they could, keeping a sure course and going slow, Vhagar using the currents of wind to keep herself afloat, instead of her massive wings. You had dared open your eyes again and had focused on her scales, unexpectedly warm under your fingers, not trusting yourself to stare anywhere else, too afraid of your reaction, preferring to lose yourself in your thoughts.

Aemond's voice in your ear makes you jump out of your jumbled memories

"We are going to land. Vhagar will be as gentle as possible - he stops for a moment and hums softly - don't be afraid".

He follows with something in what you believe is High Valyrian and Vhagar starts flying downwards, slowly getting to the ground, where many people are waiting for your arrival.

It isn't casual that the brothers have you walk through the mob, you know they are parading you around as a trophy, showing their people who they have kidnapped. There are hands everywhere, trying to touch you and pulling at your dress with ferocity, as if they want to tear it from your body, to the point that Prince Aemond has to use his men to shield you from the brunt of it, until you enter a big building and are instructed to go down a flight of stairs.

You face a big wooden door that one of your captors opens before forcing you inside

"You have a cot, a table and a bucket. Someone will bring you food and ale".

You turn around to face Prince Aemond

"Do you expect a heartfelt thank you?"

One of the men, a brute with mismatched eyes walks towards you with a purpose and you stand your ground. You are scared, Gods so scared, but you are not going to show it to these men. You are their captive and it’s going to become everyone’s problem.

"I've heard of the courage of the children of the North. Those of you who don't know how to use a sword know how to die on it. It can't be said of many - Prince Aemond pins you with his lonely eye and you find yourself unable to to look away, mesmerized by the lilac hue - they are precious and not to be hurt" he reminds his men

"They showed you disrespect, Your Grace" the brute says, frozen on the spot by his prince’s words

"And what can the disrespect of a dove do to a dragon?"

With that you are left alone in your cell with your heavy thoughts, your body still high on adrenaline and rage seems incapable of staying still. You pace around your small cell, actually trying to gauge the door for signs of rot or any sort of weakness, finding nothing; checking the thick walls surrounding you proves to be equally useless, none of the bricks moves, there’s no mud nor signs of humidity to show you a way out of here. Desperate you use the bucket to prop yourself up a bit to look out the small, rectangular window, the only source of light. With effort and standing on your toes, you grab the bars and try to look outside, needing to see if there’s still some servant capable of helping you, but your sight is met by an outstanding number of silver-headed people.

Everywhere your eyes land, you see Valyrians and no Northerner, your mind flying to the rumors of Targaryens using blood magic to multiply the numbers of their people, in order to make the conquered Kingdoms their New Valyria.

You land back on the floor and start looking for a way out again, methodically trying every nook and cranny of your prison, searching for a secret passage, with no luck, hoping against all you know about this castle. Even the door is solid and study oak wood, the hinges are new and shiny, freshly made to imprison you.

This is the moment you break down, you huddle yourself into the farthest corner of the room and start crying, your face pressed against your bent legs; you long for your father’s strong embrace and your mother’s soothing words. How you wish you could go back to when you were a young child and the world was full of wonder.

You feel so alone.

A couple of floors above you, Aemond is polishing his armor. He has no taste nor interest for the feast his brother is leading for the army or to rape the women taken captive from the camp; his body shudders with disgust at the idea of violating another human being, knowing too well what it feels like. No, he orders himself, we are not going down that route, the dragon garnishes look filthy with blood and mud. Mother would be ashamed to see me parade around looking like that. His hands grab the chest piece with too much force, he folds his long back to look closely at the etched metal, trying to think of the best way to clean the intricate design and he sees where one of your hits has actually left a dent. His finger touches it absentmindedly while his brain goes back to your fight, rewinding it to analyze it: you are rusty but you have been trained, probably since you were young, given how you had managed to work around your weak spots and how fast you were on your legs, even after being chased in the woods. Given the proper training, maybe under someone like him, you’d go back to your former glory. All right, his hand stops caressing the denting, what is going on here? You are bounty, a means to an end. Yes, you are beautiful, even covered in filth and looking so different from what he’s used to, but you are a prisoner, worth your weight in gold and silver, nothing more. You’ll be used to extort all the money possible and then sent back to your husband. If you’re lucky, after the conquest, you will be married to a nobleman loyal to him and Aegon, to fortify the union between the North and New Valyria; again means to a bigger end and nothing more, still, the fear and courage he saw in your eyes, the way you didn’t back down until you saw Vhagar, intrigues him. Even on Vhagar, after your initial terror, you held yourself with a strength he has rarely seen in non dragonriders. Your husband is a lucky man, he thinks and hopes he cherishes you, because you are worth every praise.

Everythig taglist: @hightowhxre

Aemond taglist: @phantoms-main-blog

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #the winner takes it all

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lilisouless · 2 years

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Nikolai trowing a halloween party where the theme is "Disney villains" and the price for best costume involves kruge

Nikolai went as captain hook. As the judge he wanted to vote for himself but also will make sure he deserves it

Genya and David were the evil queen and the magic mirror. Genya will say "magic mirror on the wall" and David would say "you are" before she could finish the question everytime"

Nina, instead of having a pair costume with Matthias, Hanne or both, teamed up with Inej and went and Ursula and Vanessa. Inej is not sligthly bothered that she was to be with Nina the whole time in order for her costume to work

Hanne was Prince Hans, Nikolai was glad he ruled out that idea for himself

Jesper and Wylan made the day of Gaston x Lefou shippers. Also when Nikolai said Jesper was "too skinny for Gaston" Wylan argued he had the perfect baritone voice and both sang the Gaston theme just to prove their point

Kaz was completely focussed on getting the price for the kruge. So, for his Hades costume,instead of just dying his hair blue or getting a wig like a normal human being, he light on real blue flames on his head (over a liquid that would stop it from burning his skin) because he is THAT extra and dramatic.

Nadia and Tamar went as Yzma and Kronk. They wanted to go bigger so they convinced Leoni and Adrik (who did it very reclutantly) to be Kronk´s shoulder angel and devil (hey, it was better than the original idea when Nadia and he were Cinderella´s stepsisters)

Alina and Mal were almost disqualified for coming as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell instead of "villains" but they put the case that Tinkerbell tried to get a child killed out of jelaousy and Peter Pan kidnapped children himself and if those are not villains then what ist is?, so not only they got back into the competition, they also made a lot of people question their childhood.

Zoya was sure her Maleficent costume was going to make her the winner, isn't she the dragon queen after all?

Most people tought Tolya came as a raven in order to be Zoya´s companion, but he actually didn't got the theme memo and just wanted to be "The raven" from Edgar Allan Poe

Kuwei was actually close to winning, who would be as cruel and hated as Cruella de Vil?

Matthias actually won by coming as the hunter who killed Bambi´s mom, his price was worth all of the children that cried when they saw him. ("Is not a real deer head!" "it´s from a plushie and i will sew it later") Kaz was not happy at all because how the heck didn't ocurred to him?

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floatyflowers · 2 years

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hello 👋

would you write to yandere Aemond x wife reader or yandere Aegon II x wife reader (I'm still obsessed with the Targaryens😖) thanks for your time take care 💫

Dark! First Husband Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Dark! Second Husband Aegon Targaryen

You are the younger sister of Jacaerys and twin sister to Lucerys, making you the only surviving daughter of Rhaenyra.

Aemond and you used to be friends when you were younger, Aegon used to pick on the both of you.

Especially you, considering how short you are compared to him, he once tried to touch you inappropriately, but Aemond defanded you.

The king arranged a marriage between you and Aegon to calm down the sharp rivalry between the blacks and greens.

Much to Rhaenyra's and Alicent's displeasure.

But, this has all gone downhill when the king has passed away, and war has started between the greens and blacks.

You went with your brother to Storm's end on Arrax back to win the Baratheons over to the blacks side.

However, Aemond was there also, which made you realize what is going to happen next.

Lucerys refused to fight and took you and left.

However, the next thing you know, there was a rough storm, and Vhagar crushed into Arrax.

Resulting into a horrible death for Lucerys and his dragon.

Aemond kidnapped you before you could also meet the same fate as your twin brother.

"Please, Aemond, let me die, I don't want this, I don't want to!"

"I do not care for your tears"

"Aemond, please, I'm begging you"

The one-eyed prince ignored your pleas and forced you to marry him.

He returned back to his brother and mother with you as his wife.

This, of course, caused anger and disapproval, but Alicent thought of it as a political revenge against Rhaenyra.

Aegon on the other hand was fuming from jealousy because you were originally the girl he was supposed to marry.

It didn't take long for you to fall pregnant with Aemond's child, something which made your husband proud that he is finally going to be a father.

Nevertheless, Daemon kills Aemond during the fight between them, leaving your child fatherless.

Which left a huge opportunity for Aegon to take you as his wife after Helaena dies.

Claiming that your unborn child needs a father in their life, and also he need someone to raise his daughter.

But, Aegon doesn't care for his child nor yours, he only wanted you for himself.

For the same possessive reason his younger brother married you for.

#tw: toxic relationships #wife reader #yandere house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon II targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen #dark

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jackoshadows · 5 months

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From here, an old draft of GRRM's for A Feast for Crows.

Dany: Pretend it’s a horse. Face off in pit. No [?marry] - city. Battle scene. ‘I’m going home’. 1 Chapter Sam: Cut Jaime: Blackfish Prolog: No glass candles - Pate - Steals book. Death of dragons Brienne: End with Hound fight Davos: Barrowton Wedding. Davos to take recaptured Arya north. ‘Where you going’ - to a wedding Jon: ‘Yes, we’re going to lose.’ ‘I can get us the armor’. I can stay & look brave & you all die. ‘Val carries a message.’ Rattleshirt goes with. Cersei: Kettleblack: ‘Queen asked me to say that.’ ‘Osmund’ betrays her. Sansa: Divide chapter. LF: Cersei has overreached. She’ll soon be done. Dorne: Balon v Arys. End with Blood & Fire. Mountain missing teeth Kevan: Home to Casterly Rock. Ready for winter Tyrion: Witness to incest. Prince of Sorrows: Eases psychic pain?? Comfort? Prophecy? “Whorehouses” “Whores go everywhere.” Courage. Let it go or it will become you. Let them go - will not bring you peace. Pain will [?keep] you what you have to do.

Arya: End with her first gift. 1. Joy of giving. 2. Mercy at the Gate. ④ Tyrion: Cliffhanger with Dany? Captured by Ser Jorah? 1. The Sorrows. 2. Volantis. 3. The Sea. 4. Dany. ⑤ Dany: Her marriage. 1. Fall of Astapor. 2. Siege of Meereen - Bloody Flux. 3. Climax - dragons loosed. 4. Marriage. ⑦ Sansa: ?Old - Resolve to be SS[?Sansa Stark] & take north. 1. Tourney of Winged Knight. 2. Sweetrobin woos [or weds]. 3. News from W.H.[?White Harbor]. Kill the Mouse ④ Jon: End with Hard Home.

The most interesting thing in this is how Davos' entire story is different. GRRM has been saying how the stories of the minor characters are not set in stone and looks like he felt that Davos would be better served as a POV character with bringing Rickon back into the story - which I agree with because it gave us the wonderful 'The North Remembers' section with Manderly.

From here, there seems to have been an extended Barrowton wedding in an ADwD draft that was cut from the book.

One detail from the drafts I didn't bother including last time is that in the original version of Ramsay's first letter, announcing his wedding, he says that there will be three weddings at Barrowton, rather than just his own. Jonelle Cerwyn was to marry Mors Crowfoot and Rogers Ryswell was to marry Walda Frey (Fair Walda, I assume). I still can't see any significance to that, but it is interesting that George seemed to have originally intended the Barrowton wedding to be a major scene.

Secondly, the absence of Davos expands Jon's role as an strategic adviser who plans Stannis' campaign. It also looks like there is no Mance stealing Arya - instead it's Davos who gets 'Arya' out?

GRRM has already talked about how the lack of the 5 year gap meant the expansion of Dany's arc as a leader in Meereen - which we see in ADwD. I think the same happened with Jon Snow. Less Davos and more Jon Snow meant we got more of Jon as a strategic leader.

The Mad Mouse is destined for death which more or less confirms that Sansa will not be kidnapped and taken to KL. Who will kill him, Sansa or Littlefinger?

No glass candles for Pate in this particular chapter.

Interesting stuff which gives us a glimpse into how the story for the secondary characters can go in different directions.

ASoIaF mutuals, let's discuss!

#GRRM #AFfC

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mermaidsirennikita · 9 months

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A few people have asked me for the recs that come with my historical romance archetype quiz in full, and since it's been around a week and I've been procrastinating.... Here they are, in order of popularity (check your triggers, as always):

The Good Guy (by far the winning result... which saddens me a little as a reader but I respect your life and your choices):

Unclaimed by Courtney Milan--virgin hero, sex worker heroine, he's a genuinely lovely man

Scandal in Spring by Lisa Kleypas--a lot of people like Matthew Swift, I like Matthew Swift, there's a very good scene where she hides a key in her bodice and is like COME FIND IT

My Fake Rake by Eva Leigh--gender-flipped She's All That retelling with a nerdy hero who fake dates his equally nerdy friend while being super in love with her

Unmasked by the Marquess by Cat Sebastian--this blurs into a rake vibe, but the hero is a disaster bi who falls in love with his new best friend, only to find out that said best friend is not a man but in fact AFAB and NB; there is a delightful scene in which he watches them from across a ballroom while they pull their glove off with their teeth that lives rent-free in my head

Gentleman in the Streets, Freak in the Sheets:

The Duke Gets Even by Joanna Shupe--THEEEEEE PRIME EXAMPLE, "I'm going to cover you in bite marks, darling" Duke of Lockwood I'm your biggest fan

The Duke Who Knew Too Much by Grace Callaway--the one where the duke is like "oh my god girl I didn't murder anyone I'm just into tying people up consensually"

Waking Up with the Duke by Lorraine Heath--the one where the hero's cousin asks the hero to knock up the cousin's wife and the hero is like "I mean because you asked nicely"; SUPREME angst

The Earl I Ruined by Scarlett Peckham--uptight earl is slandered by the heroine who insinuates that he likes submitting in the bedroom; incorrect, he actually wants to tie her tf up

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden--marriage of convenience with the world's most uptight duke and a heroine who thinks he finds her plain and fat and gross when in fact he mostly just spends his time restraining himself from doing nasty things to her

Villain Recs:

Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas--because you gotta, though St. Vincent is a softer touch villain than some ("he wouldn't have actually... done it... riiiight?")

Duke of Sin by Elizabeth Hoyt--a kidnapping loony tunes hero who blackmails everyone, stabs freely, and calls the heroine the wrong name for like 70% of the book; he also stabs someone while completely naked except for his pink robe

The Dragon and the Pearl by Jeannie Lin--Tang Dynasty evil warlord hero kidnaps heroine to use her for information, then realizes he's falling in love

Shadowheart by Laura Kinsale--medieval assassin hero forces the heroine into marriage for his evil plot, makes her his apprentice in evil, then realizes he SUUUUPER likes it when she doms him

The Prince of Broadway by Joanna Shupe--hero owns a casino and becomes the rebellious heroine's mentor, but is secretly plotting to destroy her father

Daring and the Duke by Sarah MacLean--hero was the villain of two previous books and maybe tried to kill the heroine when they were kids, either way she's super mad about it but oops he's OBSESSED with her

Tortured Hero Recs:

My Darling Duke by Stacy Reid--hero has had to use a wheelchair due to mobility issues after an accident, becomes very reclusive and angsty, until he finds out the heroine has been pretending to be engaged to him...

Dreaming of You by Lisa Kleypas--Derek Craven was born in a drainpipe, named himself, and essentially was a sex worker until he made his way up in the world, now feels completely not good enough for the intrepid novelist who's stolen his heart

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall--hero has survivor's guilt and chronic pain + a laudanum addiction after surviving the Battle of Waterloo when his best friend died... twist is that his best friend faked her death so that she could transition and live as who she really is, and now they met up again for the first time in years without him realizing it's her

Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway--scarred hero reunites with his childhood sweetheart, who's now widowed and way above him in social station... but she's also tortured, and they come to find solace in each other (also: her old husband told her that pursuing her desires was wicked; hero DISAGREES)

Duke of Midnight by Elizabeth Hoyt--literally Georgian Batman, he is the night, also he has a home gym

The Duke I Tempted by Scarlett Peckham--super tortured duke who hides his masochistic tendencies from the world enters into a marriage of convenience with a woman he believes will reject him if she realizes what he wants

A Rogue by Any Other Name by Sarah MacLean--local man who lost his inheritance and land in a game of dice shows up again after years and forces his childhood friend to marry him so that he can reclaim WHAT IS HIS!!! (both the estate and her)

Rake Recs:

Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean--prototypical rake book, Ralston is all "my God woman, binding your breasts is a crime and I am here to save them"

The Duke and the Lady in Red by Lorraine Heath--this guy's mom literally shows up at his house and is like "please tell me you've cleaned this place since the last orgy"; he then gets taken in by a con woman and learns how to love

The Lady Gets Lucky by Joanna Shupe--hero's not taken seriously by anyone because he's such a playboy; he makes a deal to teach the shy heroine sex stuff in exchange for recipes so he can start a SUPPER CLUB and prove himself as a Srs Person

A Rake's Guide to Seduction by Caroline Linden--hero is a ne'er do well rake who realizes he's fallen for his best friend's little sister right when she's proposed to by another man; years later they meet up when she's a depressed widow, and he brings her to life if you know what I mean

Indigo by Beverly Jenkins--hero is a VERRRRRYYYYY smooth rake who also helps free enslaved people in the Underground Railroad, gets the shit beaten out of of him and ends up being cared for by the quiet and practical heroine; and he's like "HOLY SHIT SHE'S THE ONE"

Scot Recs:

When A Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare--heroine makes a Big Mistake and ends up having to marry the gruff hero, but it's only a handfasting so as long they don't consummate the marriage it won't be legit--SIMPLE ENOUGH

When a Girl Loves an Earl by Elisa Braden--heroine becomes obsessed with local giant man, doesn't even realize he's Scottish until she's trapped him in marriage and he drops the English accent and it is a RIIIIIDE for her from there

The Taming of a Highlander by Elisa Braden--heroine ends up having to marry physically and emotionally scarred hero in order to avoid testifying against him, he's all "YE WON'T BE ABLE TO TAKE ME LASS" and she's like "oh bet"

The Highland Guard series by Monica McCarty--medieval Scottish books "what if Robert the Bruce made a Suicide Squad and they were all hot"

The Madness of Lord Ian MacKenzie by Jennifer Ashley--widow heroine ends up in a FWB situation with the hero, who is on the spectrum and considered "mad" by many; then shit gets complicated

When a Girl Loves an Earl by Stacy Reid--heroine gets pregnant by another man and runs to Scotland to marry this guy she's been writing platonic letters to; he agrees to claim her baby; hero is mute and they communicate through written notes at first, but the heroine learns sign language to make it easier for him, super emotional

#romance novel blogging #book recs

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