#tow-knight

[girlwiththegreenhat]

in spite of everything i have never been more convinced that kitt is completely in love with michael actually. the car, he yearns

[gncbozo]

It's shit post time bitches

[badbobdooley]

Blood knights are finished! I put them on these 25 squares to see roughly how they’d rank up. They do mostly, but they’re actually gonna go slightly easier since heavy cav have a base width of 30mm. Can’t wait to start painting them

(I didn’t actually glue them to the base they’re stuck on with poster tack)

[awarhammerguy]

Made a big ol knight for a unit filler for bretonnia men at arms

[pixarjem]

Okay Lindsey Collins is going way too hard for Mia because it sounds less like she’s fangirling and more like she’s getting off.

Tia ends up sounding like a normal type of fangirling.

[poisonouspastels]

@beegswaz genuinely i think my favorite tags on any of my work ever. i fucking love when people talk abt my characters like this

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Just realized Radahn's meteor attack riffs one of the time mage dragoon I had -_-

[thekinslayed]

Lay Your Claim

summary | When rumors questioning his wife's fidelity reach the king's ears, Aemond seeks out answers in his own ways.

pairing | king!aemond targaryen x wife!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI!, oral (f), rumored infidelity, exhibitionism, forced voyeurism, jealous and possessive king aemond 🫦, porn w little plot

wordcount | 2.1k

note | this is in the same realm as The Way to a Man's Heart but can still be read as a standalone :) next part will be a backstory for context.... maybe

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

“...and some sprouting qualms over the Reach over farmland disputes, but I have good faith in the Tyrells to see the problem squandered before the need for the crown’s intervention…”

The late afternoon sun beamed warmly in soft rays into the small council chamber. The young king leaned against his spacious chair, rolling the green marble around in its plate as his men droned about the most minute details unworthy of his attention. Being king meant putting out small fires before extinguishing larger ones, done with a simple word or a nod, often by a wave of his hand. 

“Whatever you deem a suitable course of action has my approval, Lord Hand. Just see it done, yes?” Aemond ordered, satisfied when his trusted advisor nodded at his words. The assembly soon adjourned, and the council filtered out of the chamber, leaving the king be. Though he was not alone for long, for his wife soon walked through the same doors, sworn guard in tow. Aemond beckoned you forward with a nod, good eye running down the length of your embroidered gown. He noted his gifts adorning parts of you— the rings on your fingers, the gleaming sapphire around your neck, even the Myrish lace that adorned your overskirt. 

“You called for me, my king?” you asked softly. Always so prim and proper, with your hands clasped on your front and your spine erect like a doll on strings while stood a respectful distance from your husband.

“I did, wife. Some whispers have reached my ears, regarding an occurrence between you and one of your ladies. The Lady Wylde, I heard,” he spoke, observing as you started to fidget, bright eyes trailing away from his sight. “Do these whispers bear any truth?” 

It was silent as Aemond waited for you to speak, as calmly as his meager patience would allow him. “They do, my king. She… The lady said some things that threatened to taint my good name,” you said, head slightly bowed in shame. His face remained stoic, not betraying the sliver of surprise at your easy admittance. Perhaps he would get his answers quicker than he intended.

“I am curious to know what brought this on… if you would indulge me,” he urged, shifting to sit taller while his elbows leaned onto the table’s edge. Aemond noted the slightest flicker of your eyes towards him, before returning to your feet once more. 

“I-I do not wish to trouble my king with trivial nonsense whispered between women.”

“They are serious enough if it moved you to strike her across the cheek,” Aemond pressed before you could wave him off. In the corner of his lone eye, he observed your sworn shield. A knight from your region, sworn into the Kingsguard as part of your lord father’s negotiations for your hand. He didn’t think much of it then, but the growing whispers around court about the kinship between his queen and her knight were starting to unnerve him, like an incessant ticking in his ear. 

He won’t pry for now. Not directly at least, not while your knight stood tall by the chamber’s doors, eyes cast somewhere in the distance and avoiding his sharp stare. Still, the king would get his answers in some shape or form. 

“It is no matter now, but I fear my emotions got out of hand and I acted out of turn by striking her. ‘Twas a shameful act for a queen, I am sorry,” you expressed, slightly pouting. Your honesty seemed to be sincere enough, eyes bright as you raised your head to look directly at him. 

“What do you apologize for? The lady displeased you, did she not?” he questioned, brow raised in perplexed interest. Aemond would admit though the rumors seemed rather farfetched in his imagination, though the probability of its actuality not so much. It was not as though you were in his bed every night, nor him in yours. Despite the barriers that had been toppled in the course of your marriage, Aemond had never been one to adept in proximity. His expertise lay in keeping people within an arm’s reach, even in his marriage. Yet you never complained, and he presumed you were happy enough. Perhaps that happiness had been earned elsewhere, and the thought of it made his chest thump with an ugly heat. 

“W-well, yes, but House Wylde is a trusted ally of the crown. I understand our need for their support and their lord’s wisdom on your council. I fear that I may have tainted that pact with my actions–” 

Your words were cut short by a raise of his hand, flush lips clamping shut. The king could smirk at how obedient his sweet wife was, a dutiful little thing that never wished to displease him. It was a funny thought to imagine you capable of seeking a lover, in all your sheltered upbringing and devout faith, though it was too soon to dismiss such a thought. “No lord on my council comes before their queen. You have no need to fret over this, wife. In truth, I am pleased,” he said, smiling crookedly as confusion painted your handsome features. 

“You are?”

“Yes. I have hoped for you to find your voice— as sovereign, as my queen, and it seems you are growing the courage.”

Hearing his words made your face brighten in surprise, before warming to a timid flush at his praise. He raised his hand to reach for you, beckoning you closer. Taking short steps forward, your ringed hand fit smaller in his broader palm when you placed it in his hold. His grip was firm, though not overbearing, as was his other hand that gripped your waist to pull you closer.

“You would tell me if there are any secrets you hold that could harm the crown and its reputation, yes?” he asked, soft tone bearing a sharp edge that noted his warning. The implications of his words were evident in the way you obediently nodded, visibly gulping in his tight hold. He knew his wife was smart enough to not consider him a fool.

“Of course, husband. There is naught I wish to do that would be an insult to my king, I promise you this,” you uttered, sealing your vow with a kiss on his ring. Aemond leaned back with a pleased sigh, sneaking a glance toward the door where your knight still stood. He bit back the mischievous smirk that threatened to lift his slim cheeks, fingers thrumming on his thigh. 

“Good. Sit.” Your husband nodded towards the table’s edge. Your mouth opened to voice your confusion his intent, but the stern look in his eye left no room for question. You slid through the space between his legs and the wood, tucking your skirts beneath your bottom as you perched on the grand oak. Aemond hummed in satisfaction at your pliancy. Very obedient indeed. 

“What are you…” you started, interrupted by the king finding the hem of your skirt and lifting it to your hips. Panicked, you clamped a hand down to save yourself some decency. A moot attempt, for his grip was stronger than yours, and he had already exposed your smallclothes to his eye. “Aemond!”

“I wish to please my queen as she has pleased me. Think of it as a present of sorts,” he said, smiling casually as though his calloused palms weren’t caressing the exposed flesh above your stockings. His amusement only heightened at the flush starting to color his queen’s cheeks as you stammered.

“You are most gracious, my king, b-but here?” you questioned, head quickly turning to look at the two knights standing by the doors. Both your sworn shields were adept in playing invisible, expert in finding something else to cast their eyes upon unless they were needed. They would not react to whatever the king did with his wife in their privacy, even if he took her right before them. 

“I do not see a problem why not,” Aemond shrugged. You started to voice another attempt of reason, but he had already made quick work of loosening the ribbons holding your smallclothes together. The king was efficient in all things, wasting no time to dive head first into your lovely cunt.

With every sigh he coaxed from your lips, the more your resolve started to crumble, and the more it spurred him on. Mewling, your dainty hand grabbed his silver tresses, pulling on his roots to urge him away. Your husband lifted his head to look at you, with your breasts pushed flush against your neckline as you heaved, and eyes starting to grow glazed with desire. “What is it? Do you want me to stop?” he asked, tilting his head in teasing.

Your teeth caught your plump lower lip as you bit them in thought. Your hold was tight on his mane, a grounding pressure that kept him from devouring you the way he wanted. Wordlessly, you pushed him back between your thighs, giving him full reign to do with you as he wished. 

Saccharine essence started to coat his tastebuds, your flower nice and warm against his tongue. The extent of your experiences in the ways of the flesh as man and wife was limited, he’ll admit, seldom venturing past the goal of planting his seed in your womb by the end of it. The king’s wife was virtuous and proper, unfamiliar with seeking her own pleasure when she was so deserving of it. Aemond had started to give you a taste for it, on the nights when his blood ran hotter for you and he let himself indulge in all that you would give him. Those evenings would end with them slick in sweat and rightfully flushed, and you would always turn so timid as he cleaned you up, right before he returned to his chambers for the night. You would never say it out loud, but he saw it in your eyes— an insatiable fire starting to be stoked.

Your voice started to grow in volume the deeper his tongue prodded into your slit, a sweet song floating through his ears and rushing straight to his cock. His thumb soon found your pearl, rubbing tight circles on your nubbin. This only served to heighten your arousal, moans now properly echoing through the vast chamber. The sound of it made him smirk triumphantly against your folds, feeding the fire that had him eating you like a man starved. Your fingers never left his hair, using it as leverage as you started to ground your hips against his face. His eye flickered to catch a peek, and he found you with your head thrown back and mouth fallen agape. 

It didn’t take long for you to start gushing out your release, nearing the point of screaming as you did so. Your voice all but shook the stone walls, reverberating through the vast chambers while you trembled underneath his hold. It was the loudest Aemond had ever heard you, even more than the night he had let you ride him in the bath. A sick pride swelled in his chest while he lapped up your sweet honey, hardened length jumping in his breeches as it demanded reprieve. 

Aemond opened his mouth as he pulled away to voice a teasing remark when you grabbed the leather of his doublet and pulled him up, smashing your lips against his in a hungered frenzy. You palmed at his bulge, rubbing him through his breeches. A knock on the council doors echoed through the room before you could start unlacing him, your sworn shield swiftly moving to open the entrance before the king could bark out in anger.

Fucker. 

Your handmaiden moved to enter, but quickly bowed her head upon seeing the compromising position she found you in. “M-my deepest apologies, Y-your Graces,” she stuttered. Aemond had opened his mouth to scold, but your hand on his chest stopped him before he could spit out his wrath for the disturbance.

“It’s alright, Ada. Was something the matter?” you said softly. Ada remained with her head bowed, shoulders slightly quivering in fear under the king’s deathly stare. 

“Her Grace wished to be notified when princess Jaehaera’s lessons finish for the day. Afternoon tea has been prepared in the gardens, as her grace requested,” she squeaked. The reminder seemed to make you remember yourself, returning to your feet and letting your skirts fall back to the floor. 

“Right. Thank you,” you sighed. The young handmaiden curtsied in haste, before scurrying off when you dismissed her. Your gaze turned back to your husband, who still had his eye narrowed somewhere by the chamber’s entrance. His attention returned as you softly caressed his clothed chest, smiling up at him sweetly. “Come join us?”

It was then that Aemond made his decision. He would let the rumors be. He had no wish to prod nor question his dear wife, but let it be known that he was never one to share, in spite of his reservedness and outwardly cold nature. His answer would come on the nights you begin to seek him out, singing your sweet song of pleasure beneath him as he spurred release after release from your sweet cunt. For now, he was pleased, smirking devilishly at the sight of your knight’s clenched jaw as he left the small council chamber with his queen’s hand nestled in his elbow.

[raindailies]

❝ — SOLDIER, POET, KING. ❞

𓏵 ( societal conformations shan't hearken to your voice, my dearest. )

८ sypnosis. FANATASY / ROYAL AU - societal roles are placed, words whisper. Soldiers wield a sword, heavy alighting for their own conscience - poets wield a tongue sharp enough to pierce the deepest of consonants, and kings wield a crown, barking the orders of ones' commandments, ruling with jovial. But to you, who observes, these roles appear much darker than appealed by the town's constant rumors.

(phainon, anaxa, and mydei x gn!reader separately) - wc: ~3.9k

@ warnings; nothing really , exploring character tropes and personalities through poetry and literary composition, ALL fluff !! Some darker connotations in Phainon's and small canon - typical violence ᝰ.ᐟ

── notes. based off of the song 'soldier, poet, king' obv, i had an awakening of this idea on the bus while watching a tiktok and after a multitude of procrastination and Macbeth essays I deliver this !! This is probably my favorite work yet, meanings & symbolism will be explained at the end (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ !

ᝰ.ᐟ PHAINON — there will come a soldier, who carries a might sword, he will tear your city down.

⟡ Phainon is a captain of the royal guards, a knight, he proposed his title to you with a sheepish grin. You did little to refute him, smiling in turn as his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, sheathed on his waist as he chatted your ear off in the town’s center.

⟡ But the sword he carries is far too heavy for his own conscience to maneuver, it’s thick with the blood, smeared with a discordant amalgamate of ichor, the iron taints at his hands as Phainon can only look down at it with tired eyes, his shoulders slacked, the sword, mighty – tall, but tainted, once again, he pivoted his gaze away, sure he was going to get sick, had he stared at the blood any longer.

⟡ Phainon could only bear one thing ascertained, he almost feels his knees buckle under him despite nothing pulling his soul down, his shoulders slacked – but he does not waver, no. Not ever. Not when he has the world on his shoulders. Makes him chuckle breathlessly, and humorlessly. Bitter.

⟡ Was it the world that was heavy on his shoulder, or the people’s hearts that was? 

⟡ He will bear it in tow. Phainon doesn’t question what – how, he knows he will endure his duties of his own gains, but – he couldn’t help but wonder, really, why is it him that endures? The soldier that has the sword tightly gripped around the rough calloused coil of the cleave of his hand, the very same hand that held you so tenderly that he wished he hadn’t done it at all.

⟡ Right – you. The soft you, the naive you, the innocent you that wanted so desperately to help him as you stared at his drained eyes, your hand gently holding his. He paused, as if turning behind to gaze at the world on his shoulders, his shaking knees and eyes with tire prevalence, and he only shook his head. Phainon places a hand on your shoulder, a smile returns to his face as he tells you to ‘not worry’, he is fine, though even he does not believe his own words.

⟡ But gods, he wanted so hopelessly to cry into the crook of your neck. About the wretched sound that he so abhorred when his sword met the flesh of his enemies. It’s necessary. He rationalized, though it did little to ease his guilt. He wanted to cry about the innocents that he could’ve saved had he come a little faster – if he had been better, if his iron infused tainted sword had swung at the head of the enemy at a briskier speed.

⟡ Maybe then, their families’ dining table wouldn’t bear an empty chair. Maybe then, he’d sleep easier at night.

⟡ Phainon realizes that he cannot confide in you with this. He drags his palm across his face at night when you’re sleeping soundly beside him – your face peaceful in the night light as a streak of moonlight caressed your fond skin, the tender brush of gleam made him smile, forget the sword he carried, the world he bared, even for just a second. 

⟡ After all, you were just a citizen, you’re not a hero, and he wishes to keep it that way. Phainon isn’t sure if he could handle it had he not been able to wake up without you on his side, without the warmth of your body embellishing into the bedsheets. 

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ Phainon first met you when you were hunched over the pillar, hair tousled, clothes rugged with dried blood clinging onto your chiton, your face heavy – he saved you, as any hero would’ve, but you felt – different, from the others he saved the same day, was it the look in your eyes? He hadn’t known, but he soon found himself clinging to you when you were oh so adamant on repaying him back as a favor for saving you, you’d repeatedly bombard him with fruits, flowers, Phainon would say he tried to get you to stop, but that would be lying – because he didn’t. He loved your attention, even if your gifts began to pile up, he’d stash them onto his desk with a giddy smile as your visits became more frequent, and he began to seek you out more. 

⟡ Phainon is a soldier. A hero – the divinity that courses through the very embed of his soul is but one he cannot deny, he hears the people’s praises, the children’s hopes, the ballads – he hears it all. Phainon only sheepishly grins, rubbing his neck, waving his hand around with a weak rebuttal, claiming that they are ‘flattering him’, but in that moment, he meets eyes with the relatives of the people he couldn’t save, and Phainon could do little to attenuate the guilt he beheld.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ Phainon is really like your knight in shining armor – a soldier befitting the title of protector or hero. The titankin appeared to just get faster, if that was even possible, one name hurriedly slipped from your lips, and before you knew it, a firm hand was on your waste, his white hair tousled against the wind as his sword did quick work on the titankin, reducing it to a matter of dust, he looks at you. 

⟡ “You came.” You looked up to the white-haired male, your breaths heaving.

⟡ Phainon looked at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing, “You called.” He replied, his words betraying nothing of his expression. 

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ He stares at you like he is looking at the sun. He could not help it – he knows, as his role, he shouldn’t get close to you – Phainon knows it well, and he knows it even more when he holds you in his arms, even with the blood tainted, you only nudge closer to him, and all he can feel is uneasiness at your comfortable form against his tense one. But god forbid, even if you were the sun, capable of burning him, he’d adamant on gladly becoming Icarus*, he’d – without reluctance – fly towards the sun if it meant he could spare even a look at you. 

⟡ Phainon would laugh if he fell from your arms, his heart wild in its systolic beats, because even fleeting – he saw you. Profusely, that was enough for him. He wasn’t a soldier when he held you in his arms, he didn’t hold a sword that carried lives, he didn’t carry the world upon his shoulders, no – he was him. He was Phainon. 

⟡ “Phainon, are you okay? You’re spacing out.” His name slipped out of your mouth in tenderness, a slight elicited from his lips as he focused his gaze on you, the sun hitting your face in bliss, your slightly furrowed brow worried over him, he couldn’t help but smile. 

⟡ “I couldn’t be better.” Phainon gazes at you. 

⟡ So screw it, if he had to shoulder the world’s burdens, if he was to be bloodied and injured for the nth time, his wants, his needs be damned – by Mnestia’s soft glimmer betrothed upon his ruptured stature, for you, Phainon would do everything a thousands time over – if the sun refused to kiss the planet that is Amphoreus, he wouldn’t care if you were still there, laughing carelessly as you held his face in your soft hands. 

⟡ No. He thinks, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he stares at you, your soft lips, parted as you hopelessly talk about another book you just read, and he can’t help the upturn in his own lips. No matter, I will protect you. Phainon never regrets you, how could he regret being kissed by the sun itself, after all?

ᝰ.ᐟ ANAXA — there will come a poet, whose weapon is his word, he will slay you with his tongue.

⟡ Anaxa is only a poet who writes as if he was running out of time, and by granted, he has been sending you wishful letters that by Mnestia’s warm embrace had shrouded you like no other, you hadn’t known words alone could be this impactful, surely.

⟡ Every word is an art, every word carries that of meaning. Anaxa is the personification of the words that shape the very being of expression – when actions cannot convey enough, it is only words that bring forth the tension that underlies in one’s fingertips.

⟡ A poet is free, a poet rarely holds his tongue in his mouth, letting it free as it wishes once a time. Sing – O muse, of the ballads that which you hold for thine dearest of melody, Anaxa – never runs out of words, no. He would never, could never. His mind runs in a state that his body cannot follow, the truth is existential to his very being. His words are a testament to his very soul, he is the truth, after all. When comes down, his most powerful weapon is not of his gun, but rather his words, the truth can be biting, and he is the very epitome of truth. 

⟡ But his words never hit quite like weapons do to you - rather, they’re ballads of a far-away humming choir, the birds seemed to chirp at his every word, as he laid his heart bare, his voice a melody that evoked even the simplest of action to be the largest.

⟡ And Anaxa, despite the words he may sing, is afraid that the faith he has is no longer, it hasn’t been in him, he is not enough, for his words are but one declared in a quiet whisper, how could he make his truth be loud? He thinks, and he never quite found the answer. The soldiers are strong - they command and bark their words with ease, the king never quite runs out of attention nor orders to spare, and yet he, just one of a poet whose words are his only access, is not one with value.

⟡ But you, oh he’ll sing just about any word to you. He’d sit by you under the moonlight ranting about the philosophical understanding that, everything is everything, the world is a paradox - everything is composed of something infinitely smaller (and you are made with each part of him that he tore down piece to piece to embed in you.)

⟡ He turns to you, his eyes half expecting you to wander your gaze where else, disinterested - but you only stare back at him, your eyes sparkling an endless notion of astral charts against the soft gleam of the moon, as you urged him to continue, perhaps that was when he fell.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ He doesn’t tell you this, but he couldn’t help but to sit down at his desk, quill in his hands as he addressed poems to you, the ink running along the lines as his words slur with the thoughts of you, because it has always been you. 

⟡ “Had I been able to press you upon the ground, and woven the simplest of love onto our mouths– too cliche.” He scoffs, scrunching the silk of paper up and throwing it elsewhere, placing a new one as he hunches over the desk. It had been late into the night, the sun almost akin to rise but Anaxa could care less, he started a new poem.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ Anaxa watches as you dip your hands into the river, he sits near, tucked under the shade of the tree, you called out to him with the softest glimmer of tone that was far sweeter than the strum of any lyre as the water splashed around you.

⟡ You maneuver the cool sensation of the water to splash into Anaxa’s direction as you turn to him, a smile adorned your face, your eyes squinted in the corners – heavenly. You looked absolutely heavenly, Anaxa decided.

⟡ “Anaxa! Come on, join me!” You smiled blissfully, the sun kissing your cheeks as you scoop a handful of water from the river in the cleaves of your hand, and he could not help but feel jealous of the sun that could kiss you so adoringly.

⟡ “I’m–” He hesitated, for a moment, considered joining you, to gaze at you up close, but he only stopped his words, “I’m good here, don’t get too soaked.” He decided to say, because had he joined you, he’d miss the euphoric trance of seeing you hold his heart in your palms from afar. 

⟡ Anaxa found that he preferred to sit back and stared at you. It was enough to watch you hand stride the woods, a smile appeasing as you lightly twirl a flower in your hand. It was enough to watch as you pointed to the skies, showing off your astrology skills, if you were wrong, he could care less. Hell, he would rewrite history to make whatever you said right. You were enough, far than enough.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ An old poet used to tell him, “love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a 'matching half' of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him, Anaxa, you must remember to find the half of your soul.”

⟡ Anaxa only raised his eyebrow in question, his mouth a frown. “Why must we? Surely one can function with their soul only, what need is there?”

⟡ The poet smiled, then lightly ruffled the young boy’s head, “Maybe so, but you have to see that love for yourself. You’ll know it when your eyes meet, because your soul has always been meant to orbit the other. It is Eros that brings you together.”

⟡ “Eros?”

⟡ “The purest.”

⟡ Anaxa only understood the poet’s words clearly when his eyes locked with yours for the first time – it hadn’t been anything different, that day. He lounged near the town’s busy center, the crowd bustled towards him and something–someone, bumped into his chest.

⟡ He looked down, you looked up–and Anaxa stared at you as if he had known you his whole life.

⟡ Because he has. He hadn’t known you physically, hadn’t known you through his eyes, but his soul has long known you as you touched for the first time, your souls embracing the other like a light finding the other in the vast darkness of the world. 

⟡ It wasn’t love at first sight–it was a knowing feeling, like he had held you countless times before, like he had murmured your name in a soft eliciting tone as he tugged you closer to him, the world forgotten. Your mouth parted, an attempt of words.

⟡ “I’m so sorry–!” You had muttered to him, he looked at you, and through touch alone, he knew you.

ᝰ.ᐟ MYDEI — there will come a ruler, whose brow is laid in thorn, smeared with oil like david’s boy.

⟡ Mydei is a ruler, he has always been destined to be one, since birth, the servants lightly smeared him with Pomegranate juice across the flesh of his forehead, their voices a cheerful radiance as his mother held him into her arms, the ceiling, embellished with gold and trinkets alike came to his vision. 

⟡ Mydei was a prince.

⟡ His throne has long been laid in thorn, embedded into the fuse of his blood as his mother combed her hands through his hair with a hum, she smiles. The shackles had long amalgamated with the wrists of his calloused hands, for the heir was just a boy whose destiny was tethered too soon.

⟡ “You are a crowned prince,” his mother murmured, a soft sound beneath the breeze of the opened window, his blonde hair sat a tangled mess in his mother’s fingers “but before that, you are my Mydei. Be it as you want to, but let that be enough.”

⟡ He had wondered what his mother meant, then. Obviously, he was Mydeimos – or Mydei, as his mother preferred to call him*. Why would he be anything other than himself? It’s only when he saw the people, whose words are disgustingly sweet as their mouths stretch a grotesque amount upwards, forcing their laughter at any word that came out of his mouth, hoping to get his favor that he realizes – they don’t see him for Mydei, no, to them, he is only the king.

⟡ Mydei doesn’t realize when he lived his life in a constant blur of advocacies in mindless matter – archery course, music course, martial arts course, sword fighting course, meetings where the blonde male is seated in the center, despite himself being 10 – knowing little of the political advances, military and financial magistracies. 

⟡ He does not wish for this life, he quickly realizes, when he sees other boys his age fighting, laughing as their wooden swords clang against one another's and they run around with glee – he realizes that he much prefers to live like that, free.

⟡ His life as a crowned heir to the throne was as mundane as anything could possibly be, the occasion where his mother sang him lullabies to bed was his favorite, “Your hands are so strong, Mydei.” Gorgo smiles, her son’s smaller, yet calloused hand grasped around hers, “I’ve got such a strong boy, hm? Tell you what, ma thinks your hands have carried far too much already. I'll wish for a day where these strong hands are used for love.” 

⟡ Or, when his father escorting him into town, greeted by the nice old ladies and their baskets full of assortments in desserts, he couldn’t help but offer payment for some, but his father quickly pulled him back, a stern voice followed; 

⟡ “Mydeimos. It is unbecoming to the royal bloodline for you to convulse in such intricacies.”, and he could only nod in turn, the face of his father left little room for arguments.

⟡ “Yes, father.” Were the only words he uttered as of late.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ When he met you – it was by pure coincidence, the male found himself wandering the later nights – away from his duties, away from a crowned heir’s place. He snuck out of the palace under Krateros’ nose, as his blonde-haired were snuffed out by a black cloak he allocated softly over his figure.

⟡ The skies – the trees – the townspeople laughing around, Mydei felt free, for the first time, he felt as if no royal restraint could tie him down, not anymore. As the soles of his feet danced around akin to the freedom of a bird, his eyes fled over an abnormal crowd peering around a stage, his curiosity quipped.

⟡ The hair stood on his neck as he watched a bard sing a melody so pure it resonated the very essence of him – he looked to the performer, and he found a kid not far from his age. Your hair fell in a pleasing manner, your fingers softly strumming the lyres, a smile on your face, and Mydei found that he could not look away. 

⟡ Your music was free – a chorus that followed no patterns in set, a harmony that hadn't been allocated to other matters, it was a diction crafted by your intricate of hands, it was a language fettered by little.

⟡ Of the music that your fingers had strung, the soft singing tune that left the plush of your lips, though delicate and grazed him – could not compare to your face, he stared, forgetting about his duties for a second. When he looked at you then, he was just a curious boy. 

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ “What are you playing for?” The male’s voice staggered beneath the moonlight hue, your body, hunched over as you delicately strung the lyre effortlessly, the very melody attuning to the soft whispers of nature around you two. 

⟡ You hummed, glancing behind your shoulder with a smile, “Do I need a reason?” 

⟡ His eyebrow raised in skepticism, but he only sat down next to you, a knee propped up, “People usually do.”

⟡ “Maybe,” you turned to him, Mydei tried (he swore he did) to avert your gaze, but he could not pull away, it seemed, “But you seeked me after my performance to ask that, crowned prince?”

⟡ “How did you–”

⟡ You laughed, a soft reverberating sound in the stillness of the night, “I won’t tell, promise.” a smile grazed your face, as if you knew him already. He stilled, as well – perhaps stiller than the night, too.

⟡ “What’s it like?” He breathed, forcing himself to look up at the starlit sky, “Being free like that, I mean.”

⟡ “It’s nice,” You hummed, again, looking at the stars as well. You recognized one to be Andromeda*. “You should try it too, prince. Humans were not made to be chained to a place.”

⟡ The prince offered you no response other than silence, your lyre still rested in your hands, a quiet strum between the soundless night. “.. perhaps I should.” 

⟡ “(name). I hope I can write songs in your favor, prince.”

⟡ “(name).” He repeated, your name rolled off his tongue with a soft rasp of tone, his voice softer for a supposed prince, “..  Mydei, just call me that.” 

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ You were right, it appeared. Mydei was better free – so much better, and especially around you. Without fault, the male would don a black cloak over his head each night to watch your performances, afterwards, sit in the starry patch of grass as you two allocated each starry constellations – it went on for months, it was a surprise he hadn’t gotten caught, you thought.

⟡ You were honest, refreshingly so. You were keen towards the people you disliked, but Mydei found your honesty an embrace he hadn’t known he missed. You didn’t look at him with forced affinity or wretch a grotesque smile for his pleasure, no – you did things as you wished. You didn’t feel the need to ‘warm up’ to him, didn’t appease him because he was the prince. You were the one free thing in his life.

⟡ The throne that awaited his seat seemed so ever far off when he was near you, the heavy crown wasn’t weighing on his head. Nothing was – just you, and the light strums of the lyre from your moon-adorned face, lit by the accentuated smile of the youthful moon that nurtured you in her palms.*

⟡ The two of you talked about this, and this and this – it felt natural as the words flew out of your mouth, and his reply as quick. Sometimes, you'd race, or pry Mydei to play the lyre (often to no avail, but it was terribly fun seeing him try), he'd press the wooden sword into your palms before taken an offensive stance with his own, the two of you laughed, brightly – where only the moon could gaze, tumbling down to the grass as the wooden swords were long forgotten, your lyre lying far away, for once.

⟡ You felt like gods on top of the highest hills.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ In a reluctant fleet, Mydei opened the door to his mother's room, suspecting his father was away, his palms lightly grazed the door open with a sheepish expression.

⟡ “Ma.”

⟡ Gorgo smiles, beckoning her son in, and sat by the edge of the bed. "Mydei?"

⟡ "Ma.. I think I like someone." A boyish smile was appeased on his face, the queen was taken aback, not expecting her son to be so upfront – she grins.

⟡ "And?"

⟡ Mydei looked away, a small tint of pink on his face as his lips pursed together the words that buried beneath him, "I want them."

⟡ The queen neared her son, a smile, soft – unjudging from her face, she takes his blonde tresses onto her fingers, threading the soft hair as she did when he was a kid, “Won’t you introduce me, Mydei?”

⟡ A hesitancy crept up, but the prince swallowed it, turning to his mom. He nodded. 

⟡ “(name),” His eyes peered into hers, betraying little of his inner turmoil. "I like (name)."

⟡ His mom smiles, “And who’re they to you?”

⟡ He absentmindedly turned to the opened window, the constellations that the two of you had memorized together in his eyes – the constellation of Perseus and Andromeda* stared back.

⟡ Quietly, he continued – “Philtatos.” φίλτατος – Most beloved.

⟡ Gorgo hums in approval, continuing to tread the kindly fingers through his blonde locks. Thus, disregarding her initial intention of telling him that she had witnessed him and you a few days ago, but dared not to interrupt.

© 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms in any way, shape, or form without my permission. if found, you WILL be blocked.

NOTES:

- Phainon's allusion to Icarus is because Icarus is the boy who flew too close to the sun in the adrenaline of hubris when he adorned waxed wings, his longing for the sky became Icarus' downfall - I said 'kissed by the sun' because in some myths, people proposed that the sun (apollo, though the embodiment is helios) was in love with Icarus when he saw him flying so free. - Anaxa's poem was an allusion to Sappho's poem, a woman poet in the island of Lesbos, the tenth muse. Please check out her works, they are WONDERFUL !! - The old poet in Anaxa's is actually Plato LOL the quote is from his book 'the symposium', where his ideology is that humans were originally 4 legged and 2 headed - where zeus, fearing of their power, divided them into two and sentenced them to looking for the other half for lifetimes, hence the term soulmates - Anaxa's philosophy of 'everything is everything but infinitely smaller' is actually the real greek philosopher - Anaxagoras' philosophy ! - Eros is the greek god of love, similarly, 'eros' expresses the romantic love. He is not the purest but he is the most romantic of love - I wanted to believe Mydei's mother called him Mydei in preference to Mydeimos (in contrary to the game) because 'deimos' meant fear/terror in greek, I don't believe Gorgo wanted to see her son as the embodiment of fear, so 'Mydei' would be a better, gentler alternative, while Eurypon called him Mydeimos still. - The constellation Andromeda is a reference to a greek princess chained to a rock as a sacrifice before Perseus saved her, which is why I followed the dialogue with "Humans were not made to be chained to a place" - the 'youthful moon that nurtured you in her palms' is a reference to the goddess Artemis, who's depicted with the moon (though selene is the embodiment), and a guardian of maidens/young girls. - The constellation 'Perseus' and 'Andromeda' together presented love - the two stars often appearing together side by side. - Philtatos is a small reference to the song of Achilles, it is a word to symbolize the most dearest of love, meaning 'dearest' or 'most beloved', and while the feminine version is Philtate, this is gender neutral so I used the more known one. - SO fun to write this!! I am working on a band au for mydei next sooo keep an eye out <3

❝ oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh lord . ❞ 

[gay-dorito-dust]

‘Jason.’ You said.

‘yeah?’ He replies, not once looking away from the wall across from him.

‘you look sad, what’s wrong.’ You asked only to frown as he halfheartedly shrugged his shoulders, the usual sarcastic retorts and lighthearted jabs were nowhere to be seen, it was as if Jason was completely drained of it given how silent he had been for the past half hour.

‘Nothing sweetheart, nothing you should concern yourself with.’ He says as he confuses to blankly stare ahead of him as he practically hunches in on himself with how tightly his knees were pressed to his chest.

You knew this couldn’t continue, that you couldn’t look away knowing that he was in dire need of some comfort even if he didn’t say it. ‘Well I am deeply concerned about you, I’ll never stop being concerned about you.’ You told him as you saw that he glanced over at you with exhausted and tired eyes, pretty eyes that told you that he was just about done with everything that life had thrown at him. ‘I’m not worth the concern, you should know that by now. I’m a lost cause on the brink of inevitable self destruction.’ He says with humourless chuckle.

You clenched your firsts at this as you began to make your way towards Jason, jaw clenched and eyes dead set on the back of his head as you then proceeded to give him the biggest hug you could ever muster, squeezing him tightly as your head rested between his shoulder blades. ‘Don’t ever think that Jason, you’re worth the concern, the heartache and more because you’re worth the love given your way.’ You whispered into his back as you caressed his waist. ‘So please don’t think you aren’t because you are, to me you very much are. Everything will be okay but only if you take the steps needed for it to be okay.’ You add as you tighten your grip on Jason, hoping to get your point across with how deeply you cared about him.

Jason stifled under your touch, breath hitching in his throat before relaxing upon realising he wasn’t in danger, that he wasn’t under threat of any kind, but instead in the most protected and safest place he could ever be within; your arms. He smiled softly to himself for the first time that day as he placed his hands atop of your own, caressing the back of your hands as he found himself leaning back into your embrace, finally willing himself into being vulnerable with you and closing his eyes in the process. ‘Only if you’re there with me every step of the way.’ He says barely above a whisper.

You smiled again his back, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades as you continued to hold him as though it was your last chance to hold him properly. ‘Of course I’ll be there every step of the way, there’s no way I’d let you go anywhere without me protecting you.’ You teased, smiling once upon hearing him chuckle at your words, loving the sound now more than ever after not hearing it for a while.

‘Thank you for looking out for me, my knight in shining armour.’ Jason joked but you both knew he meant every word of it as you both sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of your embrace was more then enough of a reminder to Jason that you weren’t going anywhere, nor were you about to let him leave not without you in tow at least.

[kabr0ztrousers]

If you are comfortable with it, can you do chubby fem reader x orc step dad x orc dbf? Step dad's been trying to set her up with his friend but she is not interested. One day they both corner her. Step dad is mainly holding her against him while his friend is burying his face and cock in her pussy. The step dad doesn't penetrate her but gropes and says some really gross things. Heavy breeding kink on this one.

Sounds hot! And it'll be nice to get back to some high fantasy!

Kabr0z Writes episode 42: Orc Daddy

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Dubcon going to enthusiastic consent; size difference; age difference; father-daughter; arranged marriage; breeding; deep penetration; groping; extreme cum;

A/N: Wow, episode 42 already. I definitely should've written a special one for today in advance to mark this particular milestone, but oh well.

There's 10 stories in the queue at time of publication, so if you send a request and don't see it for a few days please have faith, it's coming.

On the subject of requests, please do keep them coming! I have a couple of anons claiming emojis, so if you want one then you might want to grab it early!

Any idea, kink, scenario, whatever, drop me an anon or a DM and I'll make it happen!

#####################################

The village was never quiet. Orcs all have a competitive streak, the young ones always brawling, racing, drinking, trying to outdo one another. To say nothing of the constant sounds of work being done, labourers chopping wood in the forest, mining ore out of the mountain, singing bawdy songs waiting for the charcoal to bake, and your step-father smithing the tools that made it all happen.

You'd been adopted into the village almost 15 years ago as a child after bandits attacked your family in the mountains. Only you got away and were found by a hunting party days later, half starved and freezing. They brought you back to the village, unsure about what to do with you. An extra mouth was a burden, and a human no less. You were lucky the village blacksmith, a hulking, bearded orc named Mazorn.

Of course, you're in your early 20s now. The young orcs in the village were all interested in you and while you'd had the odd roll in the hay, Mazorn wasn't keen on any of them getting too close to you. He kept on going on about one of his friends from another village nearby, a grizzled warrior called Oreg. You weren't particularly interested in the idea of an arranged marriage to begin with, let alone with some old friend of your father's.

It was raining hard when the caravan arrived. Furs and trade goods from the city, along with a huge figure clad in platemail. The whole village came out to see, the suit glowed with enchantment, emblazoned with shining gilt fittings and a rich red cloak, a matching shield on his back and a longsword on his hip. A bit much for a caravan guard. Your father stepped out towards him, and they grabbed one another in a hug, Mazorn's huge hand clapping on the shield, the knight's clanking on the orc's back. They laughed heartily before Mazorn brought him over to you

"This is the daughter I've told you about!" Mazorn gestured to you as the other man lifted his helmet.

Underneath was a scarred orc, tusks filed short and short-stubbled. "I see you raised her well, old friend!" Oreg clapped Mazorn, looking at you "Certainly haven't been under-feeding her"

You blushed, conscious of his eyes on you. You weren't sure if it was the armour, but it was kind of turning you on. Oreg and Mazorn walked back to the smithy, you in tow as they reminisced about their glory days. You hadn't taken your old dad for a warrior, but apparently they used to be shield brothers in some war or other. The ale was flowing freely between them, perhaps too freely as you noticed Oreg taking longer and longer glances at you. The armoured orc was gradually taking pieces off, bracers, greaves, miscellaneous plates protecting his joints and flanks.

You could smell him as the armour came off, strong and musky. It wasn't unpleasant per se, you'd spent your life around orcs, but it was noticeable. Oreg motioned to you to help him with some of the harder to reach buckles and straps "I'd normally have a squire around to help with this, but he's helping the caravaneers. You should know your way around all this anyway, your father made most of it"

The last plate to come off was his cuirass, once he stripped the chain surcoat and the gambesson underneath, Oreg was sat half naked and glistening with a thin layer of fresh sweat. His shoulders were broad, his back criss-crossed with scars. Only a loincloth covered his manhood. Muscles rippled under his skin as he stretched and shook himself, cushioned by the layer of fat ubiquitous among the strongest orcs in your village.

You caught yourself staring, swallowing the mouthful of drool you'd produced looking at him.

Your father looked at Oreg "Thirty gold pieces"

Oreg laughed, "Done! She's worth at least fifty"

Were they talking about you?

Mazorn lifted you, as though you weighed nothing. He held you under a shoulder and gripped your thick thighs, forcing them apart and presenting you to the other orc. You blushed, underwear wasn't a part of your wardrobe, so your unprotected pussy was completely bare to Oreg "She's useful about the house, but she's a been a bit of a whore in her time, already laid with half the lads her age. Want to get shut of her before she gets herself knocked up"

Oreg touched your pussy, opening it up with his calloused fingers "Hmm, certainly not a virgin, but clean and well cared for... Thirty is fair."

You heard a coinpurse hit the table. You'd been sold, like a prize hog at market. Or a breeding sow.

Mazorn shifted you in his grip, holding you upright by the tits, his huge hands groping you as Oreg pulled his loincloth aside

"I'd better see to her properly now she's mine" His hands were rough and strong, but his nails well manicured and clean. He tore off your skirt and got down on one knee in front of you, eyes level with your already moist pussy as you struggled against your adoptive father's grip.

Oreg held one leg up as he filled you with a thick finger, the rough skin making you shudder in anticipation as it gently worked its way inside. Another finger joined it, you whined as they stretched you, but Oreg was careful not to hurt you as he slowly twisted them inside you, going this way and that, paying attention to where made your breathing catch, your pulse quicken, your toes curl.

You'd stopped struggling now, holding your legs open for the big orc to finger you, Mazorn's voice came from beside your head "See? I told you she's a slut, already she's giving herself over to you! And after all her complaining about wanting to pick her own mate!"

You couldn't disagree. You'd fancied Oreg since you'd set eyes on him, you were probably going to try and get this orc 20 years your senior to finger you tonight anyway. You bit your lip, the sensations getting to you. Mazorn started groping at you faster, your whines cued Oreg to let go of your leg, using that hand to rub your clit.

You came with a wail, your cunt eagerly accepting the fingers rolling around in it, your hips thrusting, trying in vain to fuck him back. Oreg stood up, holding his erect member in one hand, he could probably fit two of those hands next to each other on his cock and still have length to spare.

Two of his hands, or one of you.

He lined up his cock with your pussy, looking down into your begging eyes as he rubbed it against your clit and your hole. It was almost comically thick, the head pressing against the cit and the opening at the same time.

You nodded at him, putting your hands on his waist as he gently rubbed himself into you.

"Take it, take your new husband" Mazorn growled into your ear. You knew he'd fantasized about doing this himself so many times, muttering your name as he wanked himself to sleep when he thought you were asleep. You could feel his cock getting rock-hard behind you, pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers. But you were Oreg's now, and there was nothing he could do about it as you rubbed your ass against him. The bastard had sold you, the least you could do was give him some seller's remorse.

Oreg pushed himself in. It didn't hurt, the stretching from his fingers and the liberal amount of your juices on his cockhead meant he slid in without pain. It still made your eyes water, tears building as your mouth lolled open and you groaned from the immense pressure inside you. You moved your hips against him, wrapping your legs around his trunk, but you could no more hurry him that you could pull up an old oak. Slowly, carefully, he pushed into you. You felt his tip kiss your cervix and moaned again, open mouthed and animalistic.

He stayed still for a moment, resisting the pulling of your legs, the urging in your eyes. "Please" you breathed, barely a whisper "please, more"

Mazorn laughed "See? The slut wants it all! She's well broken in, brother, you can have fun"

Oreg looked into your eyes, waiting for your nod.

You gave it.

He pushed.

You felt the cock slip by your cervix, pushing deeper into you as be bottomed out in you. Your eyes defocused as you wordlessly begged him. Your hips moved on their own, without rhythm, running on sheer desperation for his cock.

He started to fuck you properly now. Starting slowly, thrusting in and out in long motions, slathering himself in your juices and getting your fuckhole relaxed as he built up speed. You felt like you were melting into him. Your legs started to slip a little as he fucked you senseless. His hand came up to your face, the two fingers that had been inside you thrust into your mouth. You sucked on them, tasting your wetness. You felt your cunt drooling out even more as he invaded your mouth

"You like your face being fucked too?" Oreg grinned "Your father's a fine smith, but no salesman"

His fingers fucked your face harder as he pounded into your cunt. You felt your body start to twitch and tense. Your head was spinning. Your legs clenched around him. You moaned again and again, the noises merging into a wail of release as your cunt tightened and relief filled your body. You could feel the waves of warmth and pleasure making your pussy pulse around Oreg's cock.

He groaned in time with you. He thrust himself in, his balls pressed against your asshole as they pulsed and tightened into him. Surge after surge of hot liquid pumped up into you. You could feel the pressure of it squirting it into every corner of your cunt, flooding your womb and leaking out around his cock, and it kept coming.

You could hear Mazorn grunting as well as the bulge of his cock started to twitch, a damp patch spreading on your back as you leaked the younger orc's cum onto your stepfather's clothes.

Oreg wrapped his arms around you, and Mazorn released you into his embrace. The knight carried you, still buried in your cunt, and sat down.

The way he looked at you, with such tenderness, you wouldn't believe his cock was buried over a foot deep in you if you couldn't feel it in your guts. You kissed his chest and rested your head, letting the blissed-out feeling take you as you both dozed in each other's arms.

You left with him in the morning.

It was over a month until the caravan got back to Oreg's home, every night punctuated with another round of intense, yet strangely gentle, lovemaking. Your monthlies hadn't came, you reckoned that a gallon of orc cum every night had seen to that. It turned out Mazorn had rather undersold Oreg to you. He wasn't some foreign warlord, he was a duke under the Imperial crown. Apparently the old war they were drinking to was a crusade against a lich king, and for his valiance he was granted a noble title. He'd spent the last twenty years as a paladin of Pelor and had only recently received permission to take a wife and continue his lineage.

You still weren't happy about being sold, but figured you could live with it, Mazorn always was looking out for you, in his way

###############################

This is another one I really enjoyed writing! A little exposition, Oreg's actually based off a D&D character I played in my first proper campaign in that system, though his monstrous manhood never came up then. Just goes to show inspiration can strike from anywhere.

Hopefully you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and again if you have any ideas, scenarios, kinks, fanmail, hatemail, whatever, drop me a DM or an ask and I'll probably wind up writing it!

Again, there's 10 in the queue right now, but it will almost certainly get written 😁

Post-post script: I still haven't figured out how to reference the posterior fornix without feeling like I'm giving a biology lecture

[radio-fmm]

Heart´s Duty pt. 2

Prince!Sanji x Knight!reader

or... Ok but Prince!Sanji not aware that his knight is in fact a woman?

@crabdictarorship @secretlife028 @i-trash-about-things

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Trough out your life as a knight you had never wavered, or even feared any situation you had to face… until now

After accidentally revealing your biggest secret to the prince, you feel like the ground you stand on shakes, not a single feeling or thought being processed behind your worried eyes. What was to become of you? Dismissed?, Killed? Or worse A MAID?

As you try and catch your breath, you decide to make a run to your quarters to scape the inevitable at least until morning.

Prince!Sanji on the other hand, after finally coming to terms with what he had just witnessed, finds himself feeling a little disappointed when he opens the terrace door to find you gone.

That night he doesn’t sleep a blink, tossing and turning as he finds a window to the why of your behavior and character, he feels like he just opened his eyes to a whole new world. Your muteness, your monthly absences, why you were so damn short; but most importantly, the care and warmth you bestowed upon him.

All the men Sanji had been surrounded with his whole life had been nothing far from cruel and unforgiving of who he was, the only ones that had showed him kindness and acceptance were women, because of that he had developed an admiration and genuine devotion for the ones that he found on his lonely path as a prince; from his sister, his late queen, even the maids and the magnificent cooks on the royal kitchen that always taught him whatever piked his interest, opening a world of opportunities for him.

And you, the person that not only genuinely actively cared about him but went the extra mile to fight for him every single day, shielding him in situations he could not. Your unspoken understanding, soft care and charm that made his days go form tolerable to enjoyable. You the most beautiful woman he could’ve dreamed of, because you were way above his dream girl; you were real

The last time he felt this giddy he was merely a little boy on his birthday morning

You were restless too, but in fear as you dreaded the morning approaching

So imagine the prince’s distress when he didn’t see you outside his room the next morning, or at breakfast… or at his morning stroll, not even at tea

“I am the prince, I shouldn’t we fighting to know where someone of my court is” Sanji asked the assigned royal guard that so happened to be the infamous and very stubborn Zoro Roronoa, the marshal of the royal army who was as disgusted by the situation as much as the prince was, he had a million tasks to get to but here he was, diminished to such a trivial task

“With the outmost respect your highness, I do not know who are you referring to”

Now the prince finds himself facing yet another conundrum, Sanji didn’t knew your name

Not even the fake one… because you were mute

“The knight that is always assigned to me! Gods how aren’t you aware of where your own soldiers are!” He screams throwing his hands in the air, almost looking like a child who was denied a cookie after dinner

Marshal Zoro can only sigh, jaw tightening “I am not in charge of assigning roles around here… If he’s so important to you why don’t you know his name anyway-”

Sanji glares daggers back

-“S-sir”

“Sh-… He is mute”

A silence falls, desperate from the prince side but eye opening from the army’s marshal

“OOoh you mean pebble?”

More silence

“Pebble?”

“Yea, because he’s so short… and never takes the helmet off so he looks like a little pebble” a hearty laugh escaped the green haired marshal “Yeah saw him this morning, I believe he called in sick or something”

After much back and forth fighting, Sanji was able to convive marshal Zoro to take him down to your quarters to check on you

So there he was

The Prince of The North Region walking down the army’s quarters, marshal Zoro in tow. To say every soldier was expecting something really bad to go down at your quarters was an understatement

Finally he arrives to your door, but finds himself glued to the ground as an strange feeling forms in the pit of his stomach, suddenly it dawns on him what he was about to do

What in the world was he even going to say to you? He had a million questions, an itch to get to actually know more of you, the you you had to hide underneath an armor; and he would never dare to overwhelm you or appear like a a freak

Zoro clicked his tongue, already on his last straw before walking forward and unlocking your door cursing under his breath

“Wait!! What are you do-“

The prince’s worries would only multiply when the door open to reveal an emptied out room

You were gone.

He rushes in to a room that did not looked lived in as it was supposed to, more importantly not you in sight; you ran away

“The hell” Zoro mumbles sharing Sanji’s disbelief, what could possibly could be happening? and oh boy rumors do fly around the castle, especially with all the soldiers standing outside the scene

Is in moments like these that the prince realizes the walls of the castle are too high, finding himself acting selfishly. Sanji had never stopped to consider the actual enormity of the situation, what felt like a gift from the gods to him… to you could’ve felt like doomsday

“FUCK” Sanji cursed as he kicked the door breaking it in half, the possibility of having lost you forever shaking him to his core

The Marshall stood silently in pure confusion and shock between the prince and the crowd, what could’ve ever happened between you and the prince to deserve such a reaction

“Your majesty we need to retrieve”

Oh yes he needed to leave immediately, to look for you as fast as possible

Masterlist

Omg I have a plan for a pt3 you tell me how you like it guys

[sukunahs]

to distant lands - ch.4: blossom | ryomen sukuna

pairing: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader (medieval fantasy au)

summary: ryomen sukuna, your father's favourite knight, has been assigned as your personal guard. You find that your dislike of him slowly develops into something else as he tangles himself in your life in ways you never could've expected.

word count: 10k

chapter content: 18+ mdni, smut, princess!reader, enemies to lovers, slow-burn(ish), forbidden relationship, medieval fantasy setting, fluff, angst, protective sukuna, anxiety, references to child loss/misscarriage (not by the reader!), parental neglect, arranged marriages

authors note: I had so so much fun writing this chapter, hope you enjoy!

series masterlist | AO3 | previous chapter | next chapter (coming soon)

The day after Utahime’s party, your father returned from his visit to Gojo. made aware of this when a servant came to summon you early in the morning, letting you know that the King had summoned you to speak with him. 

Evidently he couldn’t be bothered to climb the handful of staircases up to your chambers. 

You were already grumpy enough when you entered the throne room with Sukuna in tow. You were not a morning person, and by your usual standards you should’ve had at least three more hours to laze about in bed before anyone expected anything from you. But here you were. 

And the first question that your father decided to ask just made you grumpier. 

“Did you make any worthwhile connections at yesterday’s gathering?”

You looked at him incredulously, this was the first time he’d seen you since the assassination attempt and that’s what he wanted to lead with? 

“Obviously not.” You responded, your tone full of spite. “You know I hate those things anyway, and it's a little hard to focus on socialising when I’m worried that someone else might come along and try to kill me.” 

Your father gazed at you impassively for a second before speaking. “I trust that Sukuna will look after you. You shouldn’t worry.”

“Oh thanks!” You snarked. “I’ll just stop worrying.” 

“Don’t take that tone with me. I’m exhausted from my journey that I went on so that I can make sure you stay safe.” Kashimo scolded. You noticed Sukuna tense a little at your side and you shot a quick glance up at him, taking note of the way that his jaw was clenched. 

Was he frustrated with your father’s words? 

“You could’ve at least come to see me before you left.” You said quietly. “I was scared.” 

You’d asked to see him after the incident, during that time that you’d shut yourself in your room - desperate for some sort of parental support. It had been up to the poor castle servant delivering your food to inform you that the King had left on important duties. Duties that he’d deemed far more important than checking on your wellbeing. 

It wasn’t as though you were surprised, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

That was the night that you’d ended up stumbling over to Sukuna’s room, seeking out comfort from him. Who else were you supposed to look to for support? You were totally isolated in the castle. 

The King let out a deep sigh. “Don’t be a child. You know that my duties come first - I’m not your mother.” That felt like a slap in the face. 

You’d always known that was how he felt, that he viewed the emotional side of raising a child to be the woman’s job. All he had to do was deal with the practicalities of physically keeping you alive and making sure that you fulfilled your duties as a princess. 

But you’d never heard him say it out loud, and you couldn’t help but recoil a little, unsure on what you could even say in response to that. 

You could feel Sukuna’s gaze on you, his red eyes teeming with sympathy. For some reason it made you feel anxious - you didn’t know what to make of this new Sukuna that seemed to hold so much fondness for you. It was uncertain territory and you couldn’t figure out just where you stood with him.

“Anyway,” Kashimo continued. “We’ll be holding the Midsummer Banquet at the end of this week, and preparations are well underway. I have arranged for you to meet with a number of suitors that will be arriving from various Kingdoms. I encourage you to take meeting them very seriously this time.”

You rolled your eyes. You were most certainly not going to take it seriously, on the contrary you’d do anything you could to jeopardize the chances of a partnership. You didn’t want to be married. You knew that it was coming but the last thing you wanted was to live the rest of your life with some stuffy prince or lord in a relationship devoid of passion. 

“You will marry.” Your father said firmly, noticing the distaste in your expression. “It's inevitable.” 

“Are we done?” You asked dryly, as you stared back at the King. He looked fragile, obviously the travel and the threat of war had taken a significant toll on him. You wondered, rather morbidly, what would happen if he were to pass away anytime soon - you’d technically become Queen, and subsequently be in charge of the whole nation. A shiver passed through you at the thought - you were not equipped for that. 

“Yes. Don’t get up to any mischief ahead of the banquet. You need to be presentable for our guests.” He turned to Sukuna. “See that you keep her in line.” 

“Right.” Sukuna said. You were already turning, heading out of the throne room and slamming the side of your fist into the wall of the hallway as soon as your father was out of sight. You didn’t do it hard enough to bleed, but with enough force that it at least hurt. 

How did he always leave you feeling like this? He always twisted things around to make you look like you were overreacting, dismissing you so easily without a moment’s consideration to your concerns. It wasn’t fair. 

“Didn’t take you for the hitting walls type.” Sukuna teased as he followed you out into the hallway. You glared at him, wholly unamused that he hadn’t taken the action seriously. 

“Yeah? Well I’m mad.” You hissed. Turning away from him and making your way towards your quarters. He easily caught up to you with his longer strides, falling into step beside you. 

“About which part?” He asked. 

You considered that question for a moment. Yes, you were mad that your father couldn’t be bothered to come and see you after you’d almost been killed, but if you were being truly honest with yourself it also didn’t come as a surprise to you. You were much more frustrated about the fact that engagement and marriage was clearly looming over your head now, and there was absolutely nothing that you would be able to do to stop it.

“The suitors.” You said. “You should see some of the princes that he brings out, the thought of even sleeping in the same room as some of them makes my skin crawl.” Sukuna hummed in acknowledgement, clearly thinking about that carefully. 

You’d expected him to come back with some sort of grown up response, for him to parrot your father’s words and tell you that we all have our duties in life - just like how he hadn’t wanted to be your Knight he had to do it, the same would apply to you with marriage.

But he didn’t say any of that. 

“Let's get out of the castle for a bit.” You looked up at him with surprise, tilting your head at him in question.

“What?”

“You’re always cooped up in here, outside of going to those stupid little social events that you hate, let me take you somewhere you’ll actually enjoy for once.” He said. 

You considered his words for a moment. It would be nice to get out of the castle - although going out and doing anything would probably count as mischief in your father’s eyes, which he had explicitly asked for you not to get up to. 

Regardless, you weren’t about to turn down an offer to go and actually do something. You weren’t really in the mood to respect your father’s wishes right now anyway. 

“Sure.” You said softly, feeling your heart pick up a little at the gentle smile Sukuna shot back at you. 

—

What you hadn’t been expecting was for Sukuna to lead you out of the castle’s back entrance and into the woods that lay beyond. He was making sure to move at a leisurely pace to ensure that you kept up with him as you picked your way along a trail that he seemed very familiar with. 

You were glad that he’d instructed you to wear a slightly flowier, more practical gown than usual - you would’ve been tripping over all sorts of rocks and branches if you’d chosen something a little more restricting. 

In your life, you’d spent lots of time looking at the woods from afar - they were as much of a mystery to you as the mountains beyond were. In your youth your mother would occasionally take you over to the fringes of the trees, letting you play about in the plants and bushes, but always warning you not to go too far in - the woods were a dangerous place after all.

And yet, as you followed Sukuna through the sun-speckled trees, you couldn’t help but think how peaceful your surroundings were. It was far more serene than anything that you’d encountered in the town. Totally quiet with the exception of the sound of birdsong and the occasional cracking of twigs from nearby animals. 

It seemed like all of the inhabitants of this lovely little forest were far more free than you were, and for that you envied them. You envied Sukuna, who was walking so casually in front of you, as though he’d ventured through these woods hundreds of times - the freedom to go where he liked in a way that you would never be able to. 

Soon, you might not even reside beside these woods anymore - might be whisked off to live in some other prince’s castle, and then you’d be even more trapped than you were now. Even if your father died and you became Queen, the obligations would never stop. Your father’s advisors would take over, push you to marry for political gain and you’d have no choice but to do what they wanted - all for the sake of your Kingdom. 

As you stared at Sukuna’s broad back, you realised how deeply you wished that you were like him. Still living a life where you were respected, but free at least to an extent, to do whatever you wished. 

The trail continued on for a while before it opened up into a wide plateau, revealing a gorgeous field filled to the brim with colourful flowers. Your eyes widened with surprise at the sight - you’d never seen so many different types of flower in one place, had never encountered so much open space devoid of people. It was beautiful. 

Sukuna flashed you a grin, obviously noticing the dumb look of awe on your face. “Thought you’d like it here, princess.”

“When- how did you find this place?” You asked as you looked up at him. 

“I spent a lot of time in the woods - both when I was a kid and when I first became a Knight.” He said as he made his way through the flowers, locating a good place to sit down and gesturing for you to join him. You did as he asked, not bothering to worry about how the plants might stain your dress. “We were poor, so I used to go into the forest to hunt rabbits.” 

You gasped, looking at him with horror. It was such a dramatic expression that he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Rabbits?” You asked incredulously, your mind flashing back to the time that he’d treated Sir Bounce-a-lot so callously.

“Mmmm. There’s hundreds of them in the woods and they’re easy to set traps for.” 

You scowled at him. “But they’re so cute.” You protested. “I always wanted to have one as a pet but my father said that they were too dirty. My mother got me Sir Bounce-a-lot as a compromise.” 

“Cute as they may be,” he continued, “that doesn’t mean much to a starving kid. I’m sure you’d rather eat a bunny than starve to death.” 

“No.” You said quickly, your tone self assured. “No matter how desperate I was, there’s no way I’d eat a rabbit. I only eat livestock.” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes at that. “Spoken like a true princess.” He said with a sigh. “You’ve never been hungry in your life so you wouldn’t get it. But if you were truly starving you’d be prepared to eat anything. Hell, when me and my brother were living on the streets we considered eating a dead guy.” 

Somehow that didn’t feel to you like as heinous an act to you as hunting down bunnies - if the person was already dead, what did it matter?

“I’m different from you, I have my manners and decorum. I’d die before I’d bring myself to eat a rabbit.” He shot you a look of disbelief. “...or a dead body.” You quickly added. 

Sukuna smirked at you, leaning close enough that his breath was tickling your face, a playful glint in his red eyes. “Lets hope you never have to find out, huh? Thank the gods you’ve got me here to keep you from some terrible fate like that.” You blushed a little at his proximity, but didn’t shuffle away. 

Glancing down at the floor, you began to anxiously fiddle with the grass as you considered carefully what to say next. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, your voice so quiet that you weren’t sure at first that Sukuna would’ve heard it. But as you looked over at him you noticed that he was focusing on you intently, waiting for you to continue. “For protecting me from the assassin, for letting me sleep in your room the other day when I couldn’t cope with the nightmares, for dancing with me at that stupid party, and for bringing me here now…” 

You fell silent for a moment, feeling that your words had put you in a vulnerable position - although lately you were constantly feeling as though you were in a vulnerable position with him. 

It was dangerous, the way that he was making you feel lately. More and more you’d found yourself yearning for his presence, your heart practically beating out of your chest any time his fingers brushed against you. But things could never escalate with Sukuna, lest you both face your father’s wrath.

But that didn’t stop you from wondering what if it could?

“I’m glad that you became my Knight.” You confessed. “This feels super embarrassing to admit to, because I tried so hard to get rid of you - but I’m glad it didn’t work.” Your blush was deep as you tried everything that you could to avoid making eye contact with him, feeling his gaze burning a hole through the side of your head. 

“You’re welcome, princess.” He said finally, his tone genuine. He seemed to take a moment to select his next words carefully, as though he didn’t want to voice anything that he’d regret. “I’ve been enjoying my time with you too - as surprising as that is.” 

You pouted up at him in annoyance, finding him already grinning back at you - he was far too accustomed to riling you up. But before you could chastise him, he spoke again. “You just keep surprising me.”

That statement had your heart racing, the softness of his tone and the way that he was gazing at you so tenderly had your mind going into overdrive in a way that you weren’t expecting. 

How was he having this much of an impact on you? You couldn’t remember ever feeling this way towards anyone before, the attention that he directed towards you making your heart flutter with excitement. You’d certainly never felt this way when talking to the numerous suitors that your father had brought to meet you. 

It was a disturbing thought. 

Nothing could ever happen. If you let yourself feel anything for him, it would only lead to tragedy. 

“Tell me about your brother. Oh! And about Yuji too.” You said, swiftly moving the subject on - you shouldn’t linger too long on these moments with Sukuna, it felt like you were becoming dangerously close to something that one or both of you might regret. 

He frowned at you for a moment, obviously trying to figure out when he had mentioned Yuji to you. You saved him the trouble of working it out, bashfully reminding him of the time that you’d broken into his room and how you’d skimmed through the letters in his drawers. 

“You know.” He said. “You should let me go through all of your personal correspondence since you rifled through mine.” 

“Sure! You can read several years of letters from Yuki if you want, I don’t contact anyone else.” You chirped happily, confident that Sukuna would find Yuki’s letters painfully uninteresting. “Besides, consider me going through your letters to be payback for the time you read that novel out loud to me.” You said, still feeling a little humiliated at the memory of Sukuna’s smooth and deep voice reading such filth. 

He laughed. “I still can’t believe you had that book. The cute and innocent princess reading uncensored smut every night? What would your father think?” 

You sneered at him. “Don’t bring him into this. Besides, I need to read that or I won’t know what to do when-, well, you know.” Your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment, not wanting to spell it out for him. 

He raised an eyebrow at you in interest. “Ohhh, you’re using it to learn? How cute.” He teased.

“How else will I learn?” You asked shyly as you peered up at him, your cheeks practically crimson now. 

His eyes went wide as he stared back at you, clearly caught off guard by your response. His tongue darted out to wet his lips for a moment as he fixed you with a look that sent your heart racing. Sukuna seemed to be considering something, but just before you could ask what was on his mind, he was clearing his throat and moving the conversation along. 

“Anyway. You asked about Jin and Yuji?” You nodded at him, trying not to think too hard about the way he’d reacted to your last statement, pushing away the intrusive thought that wondered if he’d almost said ‘I could teach you’. 

“Yeah. Jin didn’t seem like you at all in the messages, he was all nice and cheerful.” 

Sukuna scoffed. “Yeah, we’re not really alike at all. Except for looks of course.”

“Oh, you look alike?” You asked, a little surprised. You couldn’t imagine there being someone else who looked like Sukuna, and if there was, you were surprised that you’d never seen him around. 

“Yeah, we’re twins.” He said, as if that information was somehow obvious. “Although he’s a lot smaller than me, and he doesn’t have all the tattoos so I suppose we don’t look that similar anymore. But when we were younger it was hard to tell us apart - sometimes I used to trick my mother into thinking Jin had done something when it was actually me. As we got older I’d trick my dad into thinking I’d done something wrong when it was actually Jin, just so that I’d be the one who would take the beating.”

You felt a twinge of pity in your chest. Sukuna had mentioned issues with his childhood before so his father’s behaviour didn’t come as a shock to you, but it still hurt to hear. Even though Sukuna was massive and more than capable of defending himself now, it was painful to imagine him as a child trying to stand up to a man twice his size just so his brother wouldn’t cry. 

“I assumed that you were older than Jin from the way that you talk about him - even in the letters he seems young.” You mused. 

“I am older than him.” Sukuna said, puffing his chest out with pride. “There’s ten minutes between us, I’ll have you know.” You let out a soft laugh.

“It clearly makes a big difference.” 

“It does!” He said playfully, a big smirk on his face. You returned his smile before diverting your attention back to the floor, picking a couple of the flowers from the ground and starting to thread them delicately together. 

“What’s he doing now? Seems like he still does his best to write to you every month.”

Sukuna looked thoughtful for a moment, gazing out over the field as the breeze ruffled his soft, pink hair. “He’s an alchemist now. Lives in a nice fancy house in town - not far from Choso and Yuki actually. He had Yuji a few years back and he’s always gushing over the kid, little brat is his pride and joy.” 

That all sounded idyllic, especially considering the rocky upbringing that the two of them had experienced. But Sukuna’s look was a little forlorn, as though that information didn’t quite bring him joy. 

“That’s all thanks to you, right? You were sending him money?” 

“I gave him the money to go to school and figure out all that medical stuff he does. He makes money just fine on his own now, has lots of patients who trust him and all that. This was always his dream.” Sukuna sighed. “I guess I just don’t feel that close to him anymore though, I generally only go and see him once or twice a year, and even though he writes every month I don’t generally write back.”

“What? Why?” You couldn’t quite fathom that information. Jin barely lived any distance away from the castle and he was obviously always desperate to hear from his twin. Sukuna just shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I just feel like I never know what to say to him? I mean, things were rough for him when I got thrown in prison, and that’s all my fault. If I hadn't gotten caught up with the gang I would’ve been there for him, but I wasn’t. So whenever I see him I just feel like a piece of shit. He’s living this nice life now and I’m happy for him, but I’m still out here killing for a living and I just don’t think he needs to be dragged down by me anymore.”

You looked at Sukuna in surprise, your hands stilling on the flowers that were sitting between your fingers. You weren’t really sure what you’d been expecting him to say but it wasn’t that. He was the sort of man that always seemed so self-assured in everything that he did, so completely unbothered by what others thought of him. 

Evidently that wasn’t always the case. Just as you put on a face for your people, he was putting on a face for everyone. 

“He doesn’t see it that way though. He wouldn’t have sent you all those letters if he did.” You said softly, as you went back to braiding the flowers together into a crown. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’re the reason that he’s living that nice life, give yourself a bit of credit.” 

“It's that easy huh, princess?” He asked, peering over at you. 

You gave him a wry smile. “No, it probably isn’t - but you should at least try. I wish more than anything that I had a sibling, I can’t imagine not wanting to talk to them if I did have one.” 

You finished your flower crown, holding it up to the sky and inspecting it carefully, admiring all the different colours threaded through it. Once you’d decided that you were happy with your work, you jumped to your feet and laid the crown atop Sukuna’s head, giggling at how cute he looked. It suited him, the flowers doing a lot to complement his pink locks. 

 “Aw, you look adorable!” He frowned up at you, seemingly irritated by the way you were laughing and cooing at him. How the tables had turned.

“Shut up.” He mumbled, but you could see the soft blush spreading across his cheeks at the compliment. You gave him a wide grin and sat back down at his side. You wished more than anything that you could capture how he looked right now, but you’d left all your painting supplies back at the castle. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while, watching butterflies flit about from flower to flower and enjoying the pleasant breeze. It felt like you were truly free to breathe out here - completely different from being locked up in the stuffy castle. 

“Why don’t you have any siblings?” Sukuna asked, breaking the silence. “Usually Kings have loads of children.”

“I was meant to.” You confessed, lowering your gaze down to the floor as you thought about your mother. In almost all of your memories of her she was in varying stages of pregnancy, your father had been doing his utmost best to ensure that he had an heir, desperate for at least a second child. 

But your mother wasn’t cut out for child-bearing. You’d been her first attempt, the miracle child. She was never successful again. She’d miscarried on several occasions and had carried a few children to full-term only for them to be still-born. 

It was devastating for her and for Kashimo. With each unsuccessful attempt you watched your mother grow more frail, more tired. As a child, you couldn’t understand what was happening, why your mother seemed to become less enthusiastic by the day, why the siblings that you had been promised never arrived. It was only long after your mother had passed away that you finally connected the dots. 

You wondered sometimes if your father was resentful of you being the only one who made it out alive, if he wished every day that the survivor had been a boy. Or worse, if he wished that his wife had never had any children at all - at least then, she’d still be alive. 

“My mother died in childbirth.” You said simply. “I was the only child that she was able to have.” You couldn’t look at Sukuna, worried that you might grow tearful if you were faced with the look of pity that likely sat in his eyes at that moment. 

Sukuna was silent for a moment, before he placed a hand comfortingly on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of your dress. “I’m sorry.” He murmured. You could feel your skin heating up under his touch. 

“It was a long time ago.” You said, looking up at him and mustering a sad smile. “But I do wish that I’d had at least one sibling, maybe then I wouldn’t feel so lonely, maybe the pressure that my father places on my shoulders would be a bit lighter. I don’t know.” 

As you gazed out over the field you noticed that the sun was starting to hang low over the mountains, the sky shifting to a pleasant shade of pink. “We should go back to the castle.” You said, before Sukuna could come up with a response to your previous statement, unwilling to linger for too long on the unpleasant feelings that it conjured. “I don’t want us to get yelled at by my father for being out in the dark.” 

Sukuna got to his feet, instinctively holding out a hand to help you up. You took it eagerly, brushing off your dress and taking one last look over the flower field. “I want you to bring me up here again.” You said quietly.

“I’ll bring you here whenever you want.”

You hoped that he’d keep his promise. 

—

For the rest of the week, preparations were in full swing for the Midsummer Banquet. The castle was bustling with activity as the palace servants tried to get everything set up and perfect to welcome guests. As was common with these big events, lots of new servants had been hired to help out, and that made things ten times more chaotic than usual. 

You were able to mostly stay out of the way, a little exhausted by how busy the hallways of the castle were all the time. Both you and Sukuna had taken to seeking refuge in the small garden visible from your window, sitting at the pond while you painted whatever came to mind. 

Lately Sukuna had seemed fascinated with your paintings, which surprised you a little considering how judgemental he’d been of them when he’d first started as your Knight. Whenever you’d sit out by the pond he’d sit beside you quietly and eagerly watch the colourful strokes fill up the canvas. 

You liked how peaceful it felt with him there next to you. Goosebumps covering your neck each time he leaned in close to you for a better look at the painting. 

Unfortunately your peace was short lived, because as the week went on, you ended up being drawn into more and more of the banquet preparations. The chefs would usher you into the dining hall to try potential dishes, the florists would ask for your opinion on their bouquets, and the orchestra would make you listen to their music and pick your favourite tunes. 

Even Shoko was demanding your attention, giving you a wide array of dresses to try on, styling your hair and doing your make-up in various different ways so that she could ensure that you would look your very best on the actual day. You had insisted that you were happy to go with something simple, but she’d brushed you off and informed you that she was under strict orders from your father to make you look as gorgeous as possible. 

Clearly he was really pushing for you to find a suitor this year. 

By the time the actual day of the banquet rolled around you were exhausted from how busy the week had been. All you really wanted to do was go back up to the field of flowers with Sukuna and sit quietly with him. 

But you’d find no such peace today. 

Following all of your practice getting dressed up, Shoko had selected a beautiful violet dress for you. It was light and flowy with puffy sleeves, and an intricate pattern embroidered in white across the front. She’d done your hair perfectly, leaving it mostly down with a few strands pulled back and braided to stop them from falling in your face. 

You had to admit that you looked beautiful. You had no doubt that the suitors that your father had picked would be all over you. That thought made you feel like you were going to be sick, but you had no opportunity to sit around and lament in your pain because Shoko was ushering you out of the door, handing you over to Sukuna who would stay by your side throughout most of the banquet.

Sukuna’s gaze seemed to linger on you for a while as you stepped out of your chambers, his red eyes taking in your carefully crafted appearance. The hint of desire in his expression made your heart race, and you were quick to look away from him to spare yourself the embarrassment of him seeing you blush. 

“You look pretty.” Sukuna said, and you looked back at him in surprise - not used to him paying you such compliments. 

“Thank you.” You said shyly. 

You took a moment to inspect his appearance. He was donning the fancy armor that you’d seen when you’d broken into his room, the intricate patterns on the chestplate not unlike those that you had embroidered on your dress. A long red cloak flowed down his back and a far more elaborate sword than usual sat at his side. He looked dashing, just like how you’d imagine the heroes from your stories - after everything Sukuna had been doing for you lately, maybe he wasn’t as far from those Knights of legend as you’d originally thought. 

“You look good too.” You said, hoping that your voice didn’t waver too much at the compliment, you didn’t want to give away just how good you thought he looked. 

He smirked down at you but said nothing, holding out his arm to you to help you with stability as you made your way along the halls in your extravagant dress. The castle itself was still quiet for the time being - most of the day would be spent outside, with guests casually mingling with one another ahead of the more formal interactions that would come in the evening. 

That part was what you were dreading. Being sat on your throne in the great hall, in front of everyone, while suitors would be brought up to meet you. It made your skin crawl with revulsion. 

But you weren’t about to let it ruin your day, for now you just wanted to enjoy being out in the sun and join in with the festivities. 

“What do you want to do first?” Sukuna asked as the two of you made your way out onto the castle grounds. “We have a little bit of time to kill before I need to go off to the Knight’s parade.” You pouted at that, not keen to be left alone in a place with so many nobles around, where everyone wanted to talk to you. 

“Hmmm, we could maybe go and check out who’s doing musical performances right now? I feel like I haven’t heard good music in ages.” Besides, that would be the loudest place on the grounds and it would limit the amount of people who could try to strike up a conversation with you. 

The castle grounds looked gorgeous, everything had been set up to perfection. The flower beds had been perfectly cultivated, the hedges expertly trimmed, and several new sculptures had been set up around the pathways.

Dozens of people were milling about, chatting and laughing as they wandered over the grass, visiting merchants stalls with colourful gazebos overhead, or stopping to watch artists and performers at work. At the sight of you, the majority of them dropped their heads in reverence, allowing you to pass by. Others, those more familiar with your father, stopped to greet you, asking how you were doing and if you were looking forward to the celebration in the evening. 

You handled each of them politely, smiling and acting interested in what they had to say, when internally you were growing more frustrated with every passing interaction. It had taken you an hour to make it across a relatively small lawn and you didn’t know how much more fake smiling you had in you. 

But it wasn’t like you could be rude and choose to ignore them either. Rumors would spread, tarnishing your reputation, and you had no doubt that it would get back to your father somehow and you’d have to face an endless lecture about fulfilling your duties as a princess. That certainly wasn’t what you wanted. 

Sukuna clearly had no such worries though. 

Sensing that you were reaching the end of your tether, he swooped in and told the current noble that you were listening to that you had important matters to attend to, and that this conversation could continue later. Taking your arm firmly in his, he led you over to a quieter corner of the grounds, waving off anyone who tried to approach.

“You shouldn’t do that.” You scolded, but there was no bite in your remark, you were thrilled that you’d escaped the grasp of nobles demanding your attention. 

Sukuna shrugged. “Who cares about what that guy has to say? I could tell that you weren’t listening at all.” 

“It's my duty to at least pretend though.” Sukuna rolled his eyes as he towered over you.

“You’re such a little goody two-shoes sometimes, you know?” You hit him with a sharp glare, that wasn’t how you’d describe yourself, would an avid rule follower and people pleaser break into their personal Knight’s room and sneak out at night? No.

Sukuna could obviously see the disbelief on your face because he let out a short chuckle. “I said sometimes. What I mean is, it's weird seeing you be so tame around these people, you’re so nice and compliant, it's sad.” 

“What am I meant to do? You understand duty as well as I do - we all have our roles to play and this is mine.” 

He hummed softly in acknowledgement. “Yeah well, I don’t like your role.” He said matter-of-factly. 

You looked up at him wide-eyed, your heart twisting uncomfortably in your chest. You weren’t sure what to make of that, unclear on whether it was meant to be a compliment or a slight on your character. “What?” You asked, offence seeping into your tone. 

He sighed, running a hand through his pink locks. “I don’t like the princess that you are to everyone else, I like who you are when it's just us.” 

It felt like your heart was going to jump out of its ribcage. “Oh.” 

Maybe you should’ve been offended by his statement, argued that the image that you presented to the general public was who you were. But both of you would’ve known that to be a lie. Sukuna had so successfully wormed his way under your skin at this point, he was probably one of the only people who genuinely did know the real you. 

And perhaps his dislike of your role held another meaning - a hatred for the invisible line that was drawn between the two of you, if his recent longing looks were anything to go by. 

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, before Sukuna spoke again, pointing over at a nearby stall that didn’t seem to have any customers yet. “I was checking out the merchants when they were setting up this morning, while I was waiting for you to get ready. When I saw this one I thought you might like it.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as you approached the little stall that Sukuna had brought you over to. Spread out across the table was a selection of dainty jewelry: necklaces, bracelets and earrings, all centred around a flower theme. Each piece had a different intricately crafted glass flower attached to it. They were gorgeous. 

“Woah.” You breathed. 

“I was planning on getting you one earlier, so that you could wear it with your outfit - but I wasn’t sure what you were going to be wearing and I didn’t want to choose something that didn’t fit with your theme.” 

Your words got stuck in your throat at the thought of Sukuna scoping out the merchant stalls, seeing these, and thinking of you. 

Once again you found your brain tangling itself into knots, unable to quite get your head around how Sukuna felt for you. If the way that he was treating you recently was simple affection for you as the woman that he was sworn to protect, or if his feelings towards you ran deeper. If they were romantic. 

“But looking at your dress, I think this one would suit you best.” He pointed to a necklace with a deep purple glass hyacinth hanging from it. The purple of the flower was much darker than the colour on your dress, contrasting perfectly with the violet of the fabric. 

Before you could say anything, Sukuna was handing a couple of gold coins over to the merchant and picking up the necklace, handling the dainty silver chain with care as he looked at you. 

“Turn around.” He said, and you did as he asked. He stood close behind you and softly swept your hair away from your skin as he brought the chain around your neck. You could feel the warmth of his hands on your skin as he fastned the clasp, his proximity raising goosebumps. 

As he stepped away, you took a moment to admire the pendant, turning back to face him so that he could see it too. “It's beautiful.” You whispered. “You didn’t have to.” 

Sukuna just shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “I wanted to.” Your heart was thumping so hard that you were sure that Sukuna could hear it. How did he always manage to make you feel this way? It was infuriating. “Besides, you’re about to have a terrible evening, it's the least I could do.” 

“Ah…” You let out a heavy sigh. For a moment you’d forgotten about what you had coming your way, so wrapped up in Sukuna and the way he made you feel. “I wonder if I could run away.” 

Sukuna laughed. “I don’t think you’d survive a minute in the wilderness, princess.” He said. “You’d be starving after one day and evidently too stubborn to eat any animal that you found cute.” 

“That’s why I’d bring you with me. You’re big and strong enough to go and hunt animals that I don’t think are cute, I’m sure you’d do all the work and keep me going out in the wild.” 

“Bold of you to assume that I’d want to go with you.” He teased. “I bet you’d start complaining on night one at the realisation that you’d have to sleep on the ground.” 

You pouted. “I’m capable of being tough.” You definitely weren’t, you had lived the world’s softest life and would likely struggle to sleep without your goosefeather pillow and Sir Bounce-a-lot in your arms, but Sukuna certainly didn’t need to know that. 

A bell rang out through the castle grounds, and your conversation was cut short as the Knights were summoned to get ready for their procession. It would be a small parade, as custom each year, where the Knights would do a little jaunt around the perimeter of the castle grounds. The people loved it, and would line up along the parade route to see their favourite Knights and wish them well. 

Sukuna’s fame amongst the Knights meant that he was a staple in these parades, always getting a good spot up front. He even got the honor of riding on a horse - a massive black stallion that Sukuna was quite fond of. His horse, that he had so affectionately named ‘the destroyer’, had been with him back in the war against the Zenins. Unfortunately the only time that he ever really got to ride his horse now was during these parades, he didn’t venture out into the countryside regularly anymore after all. 

—

As Sukuna headed off to take his place in the procession, telling you ‘not to miss him too much’, you felt an odd sense of loneliness. You’d become so accustomed to his presence at your side that it felt wrong to be outside without him right next to you. Perhaps you were still trying to overcome the trauma of the assassin’s attack, fearful that without a guard the absolute worst might happen. 

But you knew that with all of these watchful eyes on you, that would be an impossibility. You were in the safest place you could be, even without Sukuna beside you. So why did you feel so anxious? 

You’d set yourself up in a spot just by the parade route, hoping that without Sukuna’s tall frame at your side making you stand out, that you might just be overlooked by anyone wanting to talk to you. For the most part that technique seemed to work, with all the people around you settling into their spots, their eyes glued to the parade route, waiting for the Knights to come through. 

Unfortunately, the one person who did notice you was probably the absolute worst case scenario. 

Because pushing himself into your personal space and coming to halt painfully close to you was a man who you had only ever met once - at a ceremonial peace summit after Sukuna had successfully won the war for your Kingdom. 

This man, Naoya Zenin, prince of the Zenin Kingdom, had made a terrible first impression on you in your first meeting, openly leering at you as his father signed the papers that signified the end to his campaign of taking land from other nations. 

Your father had assured you that you wouldn’t have to sit in the same room as the Zenins ever again, that he’d only made you attend the peace summit because it was customary for the whole royal family to be present. And yet, here was Naoya Zenin in the flesh, on your castle grounds. Considering the unstable political situation and your father’s current mistrust of the Zenins you couldn’t comprehend how or why this horrible man would be here right now. 

“Nice to see you again, princess.” He said. He was leering at you, his eyes trailing the full length of your body before settling on your cleavage. “You’ve grown since I last saw you.” You felt sick, the implication in his tone far from hidden. You wished Sukuna was here right now, Sukuna would scare him off. 

“I don’t think you’re meant to be here.” You said, keeping your voice even as you scanned the area for a guard to call over. 

“On the contrary, I’m an honored guest. Your father invited me.” You shot a sideways glance at him, your eyes narrowing. You hated the way he looked, his slimy grin making you shudder. You couldn’t tell if he was being truthful or not, but this was a highly guarded event, it would’ve been impossible for Naoya to sneak in unnoticed. 

Why would your father invite him? 

You tried to stop your mind from wandering over to the worst case scenario - that your father was going to sell you off to this disgusting man in a political marriage to avoid outright war with the Zenins. Sure, the King would use you and your status to his benefit, but wouldn’t that be too far, even for him? If he was concerned about your safety being compromised, surely he’d never hand you over to the Zenins, it would be like throwing you to a pack of wolves. 

“I see.” You said, plastering a pleasant smile on your face. You didn’t want to do anything to anger him, not when you weren’t exactly sure what was going on here, and you didn’t have Sukuna’s menacing presence to back you up. “Anyway, my friend is expecting me, so I need to be going.” You lied, as you tried to move away from him, unable to stand anymore of his lecherous gaze. 

Just as you turned away he grabbed your wrist, hard enough that his fingers would likely leave bruises on your skin. You flinched, turning back to him in a panic. He’d taken a step closer to you, his face close to yours, and you felt fear coursing through your veins. “Why so hasty, princess? Don’t you think it would be a good idea for us to get to know each other a little better? You’ll be my property soon, after all.” 

Your eyes were wide as you tried to yank your arm away, bile rising in your throat. There was no way that this was really happening, right? Marrying some boring prince was one thing, but this? 

“Take a step back, asshole.” You’d never been so happy to hear Yuki’s voice, taking the moment of confusion to pull yourself free of Naoya’s grip, scuttling over to the side of your best friend. 

Naoya sneered at her. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Hasn’t anyone told you that women should be seen and not heard?” Your jaw practically dropped at those words. There were plenty of men who shared that sentiment, but to actually say it aloud was another thing entirely. 

“I’ve been told.” Yuki hissed. “Doesn’t mean I’m listening.” As much as you were grateful for Yuki’s fire in that moment, you were aware that the two of you still needed to be careful, you’d never hear the end of it from your father if you were to have a hand in accidentally starting the next war with the Zenins. 

“When you’re my wife,” Naoya said, his gaze moving over to you, “I’ll make sure that behaviour of that sort is severely disciplined.” 

“I won’t be your wife.” You said softly. And you believed it. As many issues as you had with your father, you were confident that he wouldn’t compromise your safety like that, he’ll marry you off to a nice safe man from an allied nation - not to this brute. 

“We’ll see.” You could feel Yuki about to lunge for him, raring for a fight, so you swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd, trying to put as much distance between you and Naoya as possible. 

Walking until you no longer felt the prickle of his gaze on your neck, you released Yuki’s hand, the two of you standing much further up the parade route, where the crowd started to thin out a little. “What is he doing here?” Yuki asked. “If Cho was here he’d go mad. That fucker killed plenty of our men in the war and now he gets to come to our parties? Someone should put an arrow through his head.” 

You were breathing heavily, trying desperately to organise your thoughts. It felt like you couldn’t get enough oxygen to your lungs, the memory of his hand on your wrist still burning unpleasantly. 

Fuck, you hated crowds. You wanted to retreat back to your room, away from anyone’s prying eyes, where you didn’t feel like you needed to be on edge at every single moment. 

“Hey, calm down.” Yuki said, noticing your distressed state and wrapping her arm around your shoulders, pulling you against her comfortingly. “It's okay, I’m not going to let that asshole anywhere near you. Hell, maybe I can get Cho to cut his head off.”

You smiled softly at Yuki’s bravado, but you didn’t really feel any better. You needed to talk to your father, and you desperately wanted Sukuna to be done with his stupid parade. Right now it felt like he was the only person who really knew how to keep your anxiety at bay. 

Yuki made sure to keep you right at her side for the duration of the parade, her arm firmly wrapped around your shoulder, doing her best to keep you grounded. She kept attempting to make conversation, trying to divert your attention to some petty gossip that she’d heard, but she clearly knew that it wasn’t really working by the sympathetic glances that she kept throwing your way. 

As Sukuna and Choso passed by in the parade, you did your best to muster a smile. The two of them looked handsome, sat up on their gorgeous horses, donning their ceremonial armor. Yuki was aggressively cheering and waving at Choso, who offered her a shy smile as he passed by. 

Sukuna’s intense gaze fell on you, a hint of concern in his expression, and you suddenly felt very small. You should’ve known that he would see straight through your false smile, likely taking notice of the way you were shivering, of how protectively Yuki was holding you at her side. 

You couldn’t wait for this to be over, once Sukuna was done with this procession and could be at your side again, you’d feel much safer. 

—

Luck was not on your side that day. The moment that the parade drew to a close you had headed to the main courtyard outside the castle, set on finding Sukuna amongst all the other Knights, but your father found you first. 

The King seemed to be in a jovial mood, very happy with the way that the festivities of the day were going. He was quick to usher you into the great hall, making you take your seat on the smaller throne beside his, reminding you that the evening part of the banquet would be starting shortly and you needed to be in your correct place. 

You’d tried asking him to wait for a moment, telling him that you wanted Sukuna to join you before you got settled in the hall, but your father dismissed you - scolding you for expecting Sukuna to be on duty all evening. He claimed that you were perfectly safe in the castle and you should let your Knight have an evening free of obligation. 

That made you feel a little sick. Not only were you not going to have a chance to tell Sukuna about your encounter with Naoya, but you were also going to be stuck meeting suitors without him there at your side? 

It was a nightmare. 

Anxiety was churning uncomfortably in your stomach as you took a seat on your throne, gazing over the great hall. Several large banquet tables had been set up with an exquisite display of food in the middle. A few of the invited nobles had already made it to their seats, with more streaming in by the minute. Most of them would offer you and your father a bow as they entered before taking their seats. 

You had a moment of relief as Sukuna walked in through the door, only for it to disappear instantly as he bowed to the two of you, shooting you an apologetic expression as he went to join the other Knights at one of the tables. Evidently your father had already made it very clear to him that he was off-duty tonight. 

As the tables filled up and the steady stream of people entering the hall slowed down to a trickle, your father got to his feet, welcoming his guests and thanking them for travelling all this way. 

Scanning the hall you noticed some familiar faces. Gojo was sitting at one of the nicer tables near the front - his chief advisor Geto at his side. You also recognised Yuta, of the Obsidian Kingdom, sitting opposite Gojo. Yuta was the prince of the small nation that the Zenins had tried to expand into a few years ago, and subsequently Yuta was glaring directly at Naoya, who was seated smugly a few tables away from him. 

Naoya was essentially alone on his table, being desperately avoided by anyone who knew who he was. You could see several of the Knights, including Sukuna, glancing over at him regularly with distaste - as though they were eager to attack but weren’t sure yet of what their King wanted. 

The Zenin prince was accompanied by two other people. One was a large man with dark hair and a scar on his lip, he seemed to be a bodyguard of some kind - unsurprising considering that he seemed to only be slightly smaller than Sukuna. The other was a girl with equally dark hair that fell around her shoulders. She had a mean look on her face, glowering at anyone who dared to look at their table in disdain. She was likely one of the two Zenin princesses. 

“As you might be aware.” Your father spoke. “A few delegates from the Zenin Kingdom are joining us this evening.” Discontented murmurs rippled through the room, and you found your eyes locked onto Sukuna - his face contorted with disgust at your father’s words. 

“In the interest of preserving peace between our nations, I do not wish for anyone in this room to act with animosity towards them. They are here as our guests. It is important that we try to build bonds in these difficult times.” Kashimo continued.

You took a look over at the Zenin table, only to feel horror creep up your spine at the way that Naoya was staring back at you, eyes full of hunger and lust as he leered at your form. 

“I want you all to enjoy this evening! Eat up - our chefs have worked tirelessly on this feast for you all!” There was a ripple of applause as Kashimo finished talking and took to his throne once again, but it was clear that spirits had been dampened somewhat. The war with the Zenins was far too recent in people’s memories for them to be happy eating alongside a Zenin prince. 

But they would not disobey their King either, with everyone digging in heartily to the feast that had been prepared for them. 

As everyone ate, your father called out to Gojo, summoning the young King up to stand before the two of you. Gojo dropped the turkey leg that he’d been holding and bounded up to the dais. His excited energy and flushed cheeks suggested that he’d spent most of the day drinking. 

Despite being a King himself, he still bowed respectfully before the two of you, a wide smile breaking across his handsome face as he looked at you. “It's good to see you, princess!”

You smiled back at him. “Satoru! It's been a while.” 

He pouted. “Yeah, I’ve been super busy since my father died, who knew how exhausting it would be to run a country?” He said with a sigh, running his fingers through his white locks. You laughed softly. You’d always gotten along well with Satoru, if your father was going to force you to marry anyone, he’d probably be your first choice.

It wasn’t as though you were particularly attracted to him, despite how conventionally attractive he was, you viewed him as more of a brotherly figure - someone who had always been there throughout your childhood until more grown up responsibilities split you apart. As such, it wasn’t like you wanted to marry him, but at least you wouldn’t be miserable living in his castle. 

“Gojo will be looking to take a wife soon.” Your father said plainly, as though it wasn’t completely obvious why he was calling Satoru up to speak with you. 

“Is that so?” You hummed, looking at Satoru carefully. The two of you had spoken at length about marriage when you were young teenagers, Satoru’s view on it wasn’t dissimilar to your own. He didn’t want a wife, but he understood the importance of it, that marriage was an inevitability for people like you and him. 

“Apparently.” He said, a glimmer of sadness in his bright blue eyes which was gone as soon as it appeared. 

“Considering that the two of you seem to know each other so well.” Your father said as he turned to you. “I thought that you might make an agreeable match.” You hummed softly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Perhaps.” You didn’t mean to be rude to Satoru, but you also didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic about the prospect of marriage in any way, you’d do anything you could to draw out the amount of time it took for your father to get you engaged. 

Even if Satoru was the most ideal option. 

The white-haired King shot you a sympathetic smile. He was as understanding of your dislike of marriage as you were of his. “I won’t push you, princess.” He said, “but it would be an honor to have you at my side.” 

Satoru bowed once more and returned to his seat, whispering something to Geto and causing the two of them to break out in fits of laughter. It certainly wouldn’t be the worst case scenario to end up in Gojo’s Kingdom. If anything, you’d probably have more freedom with him than you do with your father right now. 

Kashimo brought up several more eligible bachelors to speak with you throughout the night. Yuta of the Obsidian Kingdom, who was pleasant but ultimately a little boring for your tastes; Hakari, a very wealthy noble from Gojo’s Kingdom who you’d heard has a severe gambling addiction; Kamo Noritoshi, a relative of Choso’s who you’d met on several occasions, but Yuki didn’t like him at all so you didn’t like him either. 

It was exhausting, having to feign interest in each one of them and pretend that they had even the slightest chance at gaining your hand in marriage, all just to appease your father. 

The evening was slipping away quickly. Most people had moved from their tables now, shuffling onto the dancefloor that had been set up at the back of the hall. You’d lost sight of Sukuna in all the movement, and you couldn’t ignore the pang of loneliness that it brought to your heart. 

Being able to look over at him throughout the night had been keeping you going. 

You considered that if Sukuna had been presented as a potential suitor you would gladly choose him. But such an option would never be available to you. Even if he was the realm’s hero, he was employed by your father and subsequently there was nothing for Kashimo to gain through your union. 

That knowledge made your stomach feel like it was twisting in knots. 

Your father called up the last suitor - Atsuya Kusakabe, a Lord within the Cerulean Kingdom itself. You had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes as he approached, he had to be one of the dullest men you’d ever met. He’d certainly never take you out to enchanting flower fields or make your heart race at his touch. 

As Kusakabe took his leave, it seemed like you were finally done. The line of men that your father had prepared to speak with you finally had finally reached its end. You had no doubt that you’d have to discuss every suitor with your father at some point and ultimately make a decision, but for now you just wanted to get up and stretch your legs - the throne was not comfortable. 

But just as you started to make a move, Naoya Zenin approached the dais. 

You turned to look at your father for guidance, anxious at his sudden appearance. But Kashimo’s face remained impassive, waiting to hear whatever it was that Naoya had to say. 

“I’m here to throw my name into the ring.” Naoya said proudly, as he gazed at you. “It's known even in our nation that the Cerulean Princess is yet to be married, and,” he said turning back to your father, “if you wait much longer she’ll get too old to be desirable. I want to extend my interest in her hand.”

Kashimo said nothing as he stared down at the man. You could feel the anxiety growing in your stomach, hoping more than anything that your father would swiftly rebuke him, but his silence suggested that he was at least giving the request some thought. 

You looked out into the crowd of people in the grand hall, feeling at least a little bit better as you spotted Sukuna, sitting with Choso and Yuki. The three of them were watching the exchange carefully. None of them looked particularly happy, with varying expressions of scorn on their faces. Naoya was well hated amongst your people, and for that reason you had at least some confidence that your father wouldn’t entertain Naoya’s suggestion. 

“Don’t you think this would be the perfect way to unite our nations?” Naoya asked. “We both know that you and my father don’t exactly see eye-to-eye, and who knows when another war might start. But maybe, we’d think twice if your precious daughter was one of us, we wouldn’t want to go to war against our own family.” 

Your heart was racing at his words. They were reasonable, far too reasonable. Your father had always been the kind of man who put his kingdom above all else. If you were the only sacrifice that needed to be made for everyone else’s safety, could you really be sure that he wouldn’t take it?

“I’ll make no promises.” Your father spoke firmly. “The invitation to this banquet was extended to you out of goodwill, I don’t want further war between our nations. However, I will not be so quick to hand my daughter over to you just because you make some flaky promise of future peace.”

“And if it wasn’t a flaky promise? If my father offered you terms in writing?” Your father took a deep breath, shooting you an unreadable look for a moment before responding. 

“If Naobito wishes to offer such agreeable terms then I am willing to discuss it.” Your eyes widened in surprise. Your father had spent most of your life cursing the Zenin King, and now he was willing to enter into talks with him? “However, nothing that I’ve seen from him in the past suggests that he would agree to such terms.” 

“You’d be surprised.” Naoya said. “Take some time to think about it.”

Your father didn’t offer him any reaction, his face still unmoving. He wasn’t going to give away anything - to you or to Naoya, and that had your anxiety running wild. You’d marry Gojo tomorrow if it meant that you didn’t have to spend another second in Naoya’s presence. 

The Zenin prince turned to you, that slimy smile plastered on his face once more. “You’ll belong to me soon, princess. Mark my words.” 

And as he took his leave with the two other Zenins that he’d brought along with him, your eyes found Sukuna’s in the crowd. The look of disappointment on his face had guilt seeping through your whole body. And you made a promise to yourself there and then:

There wasn’t a chance in hell that you were going to be betrothed to Naoya Zenin.

a/n: hope you enjoyed! I'm on holiday next week so I won't be able to write as much as usual, but I've already got most of the next chapter written so I think it'll be ready to post next weekend!

Just let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are appreciated as always <3

Taglist: @ccazimi @ryomeowie @qardasngan @poopooindamouf @pick-pookie @noooo-onee @ravenwitchh @wobblewobble822 @being-blue-is-better @sukubusss @kittsoraxx @lanaleanne @cherixheri @kunascutie @karvokr @jungkookyeager

© sukunahs

[awarhammerguy]

More unit fillers for my bretonnia army

[hitomisuzuya]

Hi! :D can I request a smut for Scara being the personal knight for the princess with him now being in charge unlike the day when he has to follow the princess's orders? Sorry if something is confusing I'm not very confident when I write in english

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. thigh riding. scara drunk on power. very very minor degradation.

don't worry, i understood your request perfectly ❤️

only the strongest knight in the land could be the personal knight for the princess. scaramouche did his job, and did it well. all while falling infuriatingly in love with you.

but eventually, he snapped and decided enough was enough. it's not that you treated him badly or anything. oh no. he just wants it all, the throne and you. and he remembers the night he decided he wanted it all.

you'd just got gotten into a fight with your father, and once you fled to your chambers afterwards with him in tow, you'd looked at him with tearful eyes and said in the sweetest voice, "please, make me feel better."

as your knight, he couldn't refuse a plea from his princess. scaramouche spent a long and blissful night with his head between your thighs, licking and tongue fucking your cunt until you passed out from orgasm. tasting you, lapping at your release like a starved dog made him realize he wanted it all. badly

he also has a forced arranged marriage to stop. you poor thing, you are only now just realizing you are nothing but a political bargaining chip for your father to sell away.

scaramouche couldn't fucking have that.

he planned his coup d'état very thoroughly, and it had been surprisingly easier than he thought. and killing two birds with one stone, your "fiancee" got erased. planned collateral damage. dealing that blow with his own hands had been incredibly satisfying.

too bad for your dearly departed father, the stupid fool who dared try taking you away from him didn't know a thing. not even about the stolen kisses in the gardens. or about the time you wanted to repay your precious knight for making you feel better that night by sucking his cock dry.

scaramouche supposed fool always die in ignorance.

and now, sitting on the throne that he thought quite frankly was made for him, he is reaping the fruits of his labor.

you are sitting naked, straddling his thigh. your pussy lips open and drooling on his thigh, it is remarkable to him how fast you are soaking on it. the only help scaramouche gave you was a steadying hand on your hip, the other one teasing and pinching your nipples.

it's intoxicating to him to sit back and witness just how badly you want him. his cock aches, leaking precum watching you grind your pussy into a soaking wet mess on his thigh.

you mewl as he rolls your hardening nipple between the pads of his fingers. "this is how it always should've been, no?" he purrs, taking his hand off your hip and curling an elegant finger under your chin.

though it stretches his ego to see your eyes hungrily plastered to his thick cock, he need more from you. "look at me, my pretty queen," he directed your gaze to his eyes, grinding his thigh on your throbbing clit. "i want to see the desperation to cum well in those gorgeous eyes."

the look of adoration in your eyes only pools deeper for him. your back arches as your hips jerk to grind your clit on his thigh. "can i cum on your cock now, my lord?" you bring your head in kitten lick his mouth submissively, "my king. i..i really need it."

scaramouche's cock throbs stronger at your words. his hand tightens on your chin. "patience, patience. i am having way too much fun with my newfound power," he gives your nipple a firm pinch, sending strong shocks of pleasure to your clit. "now, i believe your king has issued you an order, have i not?"

a blush dusts your cheeks as you nod, a new pool of wet seeping onto his thigh. "cum all over your king's thigh. make yourself gush as an offering to me," his words send a whole new coil of arousal through you. "whimper with need for me behind those pretty, slutty moans."

a whine keens from your throat. your walls are spasming around nothing. "mmph, but i want you so bad," a smack on your ass echoes through the throne room.

scaramouche grits his teeth. how dare you sound so cute and make him break his composure. "hold onto me," he orders, smirking when you loop your arms around his neck without hesitation. "i want to make you cum, so be a good girl and relax."

he smirks hearing you moan louder at being asked to be a good girl. his words make your pussy pulse stronger. "o-okay," you moan is whimper tinged, just like he asked for.

keeping his hands on your hips, he guides your pace, soaking in every last noise you make for him as he edges you closer to cumming. the amount of control he has, right down to the pressure of his thigh on your clit is intoxicating. "good girl, good girl. you are so close," he croons seeing you begin to twitch as your thighs quake.

he squeezes your hips before he stops all your motion, holding you still while he grinds his thigh on your clit. your gasp of pleasure rang out with your loud moans echoing around the throne room. yes, this is how it always should've been. every servant in the vicinity could undoubtedly hear you moan like a bitch in heat for him.

[xo-adeline]

"I could never choose to love another..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - In celebration of the end of book 7!

Feat. Silver Vanrouge

AN: Silver Vanrouge supporter since day one!! Plus, Silver's new card is ethereal, I love it so much

Was it weird how when Lilia saw you his first idea was to call you Leia? Absolutely. Did it continue forever even after you had told him your real name? Of course! Was it even more strange now that Lilia had this weird thing with making you and the sleepy second-year of Diasomnia be together whenever he could get the chance? Hell yeah! Would you ever figure out why? Nope.

Well, not all hope was lost when you suddenly made it into Lilia’s dream and there were many mentions of somebody with the same name that future Lilia called you, the only issue was they all seemed not super pleased when the name came up in conversation, especially when tacked onto the word ‘human’. As time and time progressed you could only feel worse about how the Lilia you knew actually felt about you, as the one from the past hated the name. The name had been thrown around more than you could think when the four of you had stumbled upon Henrick, and the Knight of Dawn, to which Lilia, in the process of running, had explained the relation of the name Leia towards the hatred of the two men standing between the castle and the group.

The wife of the Knight of Dawn.

Why in sevens earth would Lilia ever relate you to the wife of one of their worst enemies? He must have really hated you…

As you ran out of the castle with the egg in tow, there were many thoughts flowing through your head, why the name? Was this really the Malleus? Was there any way that everybody would make it out of this? Much to the dismay of the plan that seemed full proof, there was a loud crash before you were pulled behind Silver, who had been close to you the whole time you were there. Out, a few feet in front of Lilia was the Knight of Dawn, the one person that you actually needed to get away from.

You all were done for.

That was until he looked over at the group, noticing Lilia with the egg, and you, standing slightly behind Silver, looking at the man now standing in the pile of rubble. The only thing that you could notice when the mask broke was the fact he had been staring straight at you, not the main fact of how much he looked like the boy currently standing in front of you. It almost looked like the blonde had wanted to say something before just heading off back towards the main fight, not daring to take the chance to get the egg in arms reach of him, thank the sevens for that.

When all was said and done, Malleus was finally defeated and everything started to go back to normal there was still the lingering question of what the hell they were all talking about when addressing you even just being around you, for hells sake Maleanor was about to attempt murder the first time you even spoke. There was only a laugh that escaped the fae’s mouth when you had seemed so worried about it, and he only laughed louder when you asked if it was really because he hated you and didn’t wanna say anything. Lilia had only shook his head when you had almost started to walk away before handing you something, he had only said it was supposed to be given to you by Malleus but every time the delivery had missed you, and everything would be better shown and not explained. Which only left you more confused when you started this conversation.

The invitation was today at the same castle as the dream, only this time it was covered in black thorns and much darker than when you had originally seen it, but that must have been a hundred years ago. You would be a little surprised when you saw both Silver and Malleus again, but it would quickly change to an expression of awe when you saw the magic between Lilia and Malleus start to take shape and the people gone for years appear around you. Starting with the way the man who had moved next to you a few minutes ago’s parents. Standing and staring at him, the Knight of Dawn, and Princess Leia, which is when you noticed it. The replica of the family.

Of course, over the time that you had first met Silver out in one of the courtyards where he had fallen asleep. You had stayed out there with him just to make sure that he was okay, and nobody was messing with him, you two had gotten close. And it was only after that, when you had been hanging out in the Library with Silver when Lilia first met you, which by the looks of it, he had just straight related you to the love story he had first seen with humans, the love been the princess and the knight, and of course it didn’t help that you already looked like them.

Lilia was never trying to say he didn’t like you, quite the opposite actually. There was a sweetness to the words, almost a blessing of future love between you and his son, and the second you had turned to your left turning to look to the silver-haired man next to you, noticing the similarities to both of you and his parents, there he stood, fidgeting with a silver ring in his hands as he slowly started to speak.

“…there’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while… but I was to scared to… but after everything we’ve been through I feel that there is no better time than now. I already asked many people who look after you about this. I got blessings from them, which has now led to this stage… (Name), will you go out with me….?”

You let out a small smile when he asked, only he would make this sound like a proposal when he was just asking you out.

“Of course…”

He let out a genuine smile before slipping the ring on you and whispered.

“…It’s just a promise… a promise to be the best boyfriend, and eventually… be an even better husband…”

There were some things in stories that would have never made sense before you had ended up here: true love, dragons and sword fights, and even men would weren’t complete douchebags. But yet somehow, maybe there was a chance, and that chance had followed the footsteps of his parents, and found the one not only would go to war for, but also protect with his life.

⋆°• ☁︎ Bonus! ⋆°• ☁︎ The second that Silver had stepped away to go talk with his real parents, Lilia had came over next to you.

“Told ya’ I didn’t hate you!”

You laughed as he continued

“I just noticed the similarities, and maybe was pushing on it that you and Silver would fall in love… I mean I saw the way he looked at you when we were finally introduced. Isn’t that right, Leia~?