#day twenty seven royal au

[genshinluvr]

Happily Ever After?

Pairings: Various Princes!Genshin Men x Royal!Isekai'd!Reader (Royal AU-ish)

Summary: There was a small kingdom on Teyvat where a king and queen kept their child locked in a tower for over two decades— the public and other kingdoms do not know what this royal Highness looks like, nor do they know much of this person. However, twenty-seven princes set off to free their royal Highness from their high-rise prison. Maybe you will finally get your happily ever after by finally getting your freedom.

Note: I was supposed to finish this fic last night and had it posted a while ago, but I didn't do that 🥹 I do plan on taking a break once a month instead of constantly posting like how I usually do. There's no specific "date" for these breaks, but it will be a once-a-month type of thing. Other than that, I'm not sure how I feel about this fic, but I hope you guys somewhat like it ;v; This fic is a little bit shorter than I expected it would be, but it's better than nothing— it's not a mini-fic. Yes, all Genshin men are princes no matter who they are and what age they are. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of

Word Count: 5.6k

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom ruled by a king and queen. The king and queen have a child, locked in a tower, never allowed to see the light of day. No one knew what the young royal looked like, nor did they know much of the child’s existence. Nor did they know why the king and queen kept them locked up. It could be for their protection, or the king and queen despise their child. While the kingdom was reminded of the existence of the king and queen’s child annually, the thought of the young royal was a fleeting thought. A little over two decades later, the tower where the child of the king and queen soon has many curious explorers try to climb up the structure to see the face of the mysterious royal. The same face no one is familiar with, the same face no one in the public eye has ever seen, and the same face twenty-seven men are curious to see. 

PRESENT DAY— Location: Unknown.

Twenty-seven men, also princes, crowd around the lone tower in a remote area of a small kingdom. The tower is far from the kingdom, far from civilization. It makes the men wonder how in the world the child of the king and queen is able to survive while kept far from humanity. The gray-bricked tower is fifty meters tall with purplish-pink barrel roof tiles. There is a singular window at the very top of the tower, accompanied by a balcony with a flower pot hanging from the ceiling. 

Prince Childe props his hands on his hips, staring at the balcony intently. “Well, gentlemen. Today is the day where we rescue the child of the king and queen of this small kingdom,” says Prince Childe, turning to look at the other men with determination. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Prince Gorou nervously asks, watching Prince Diluc pull a rope from a leather rucksack. 

The rope is long enough for the twenty-seven men to use as leverage to get to the window of the tower. Prince Diluc ties the rope and begins swinging the rope, scanning the towering building.

Prince Venti plops beside the leather rucksack, resting his head on the bag as he crosses his right leg over the other with wheat sticking from his lips. “Yer sure the rope is sturdy for the twenty-seven of us?” Prince Venti asks, chewing on the end of the wheat.

Prince Zhongli rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands beside Prince Diluc, helping the redhead secure the knot. “Twenty-six. You’re not coming with us,” Prince Zhongli states.

Prince Venti sits up, gazing at the brown-haired Prince incredulously. Prince Zhongli turns away and continues to assist Prince Diluc. Prince Venti stutters, getting off the ground and stomping toward Prince Zhongli.

Prince Xiao glares at Venti and lightly pushes Prince Venti away from Prince Zhongli. “You stay down here and make sure no one comes. That’s the only thing you’re useful for,” Prince Xiao states, rolling his eyes.

Not wanting to start any more problems, Prince Venti grumbles and walks back to the leather rucksack and plops down beside it. While the twenty-seven princes (yes, they are all princes. There are no kings, emperors, dukes, lords, sirs, etc.) collectively agree to save the king and queen’s unknown child, they cannot stand each other’s presence. Especially Prince Zhongli and Prince Venti— the two princes are from rival kingdoms. 

Many people may wonder why the princes are working together to climb the tower when most can’t stand each other. They all share the same agenda, and that is to rescue the poor young royal from the tower the king and queen have locked their kid up for most of their life. It makes the twenty-seven men wonder how you, the mysterious royal, survive without human contact for so long. Every man is aware of your existence, and they’re all curious about who you are and why your parents decide to keep you away from the public eye. It’s not easy to keep someone of a high profile away from the limelight for over two decades. 

Prince Ayato props his hands on his hips, staring at the rope with scrutiny. “Are you certain this rope is sturdy? It won’t rip if every one of us is climbing up the tower using this rope, will it?” asks Prince Ayato.

“We’ll be fine, Prince Ayato! Chillax, my bro! I know it seems scary, but as someone who has done this plenty of times, we’ll be okay!” Prince Itto says, roughly patting the refined Prince of Inazuma on the shoulders. 

Prince Ayato sighs, rolling his eyes before giving the tall prince a small smile. While Prince Itto and Prince Ayato aren’t as close, the two would meet up from time to time to have a beetle fight. It’s a small game the two would have with each other— mostly initiated by Prince Itto, the carefree prince who gets into a lot of trouble but is always off the hook due to being a prince. 

“How are we going to get this rope to hook around that balcony? With our weight combined, I don’t think the railing of the balcony stands a chance,” Prince Kaveh sighs, tapping his foot on the ground.

Prince Wriothesley laughs and steps forward. “Gentlemen, I got this! Leave this to me, Prince Wriothesley of Fontaine,” says Prince Wriothesley, grabbing the rope from Prince Diluc’s hands and beginning spinning the rope, aiming for the balcony. 

While the princes are outside trying to get the rope to latch onto the balcony, the door to the bedroom in the tower swings open. Enters a young royal, yawning and rubbing their eyes. There’s nothing else to do in the tower except to read and sleep. You look at the clock on the wall and roll your eyes. It’s only two in the afternoon, and you’re already forced to retreat to your bedroom by one of the servants your parents assigned. 

“I’m rotting away in my high-rise prison,” you mumble, plopping on your bed and hugging your pillow before flipping over on your back. 

You have been locked away in your tower for as long as you can remember. You rarely step out of the tower. You never walk around the castle your parents reside in. Heck, you never stepped foot in that damn castle! Most importantly, you have never communicated with anyone outside of your prison aside from your parents. Your parents— the king and queen— tried to reassure you they love you and that they’re doing this for your safety, but you don’t believe them.

You toss your pillow to the foot of your bed and close your eyes. “One day, my prince will rescue me from my tower,” you whisper, dozing off.

Meanwhile, outside the tower, the men cheer loudly when the rope latches onto the railing of the balcony. Prince Wriothesley tugs on the rope, testing its durability. Prince Cyno and Prince Albedo collectively pull at the rope, nodding with approval. 

“The rope is sturdy. It doesn’t seem like it will snap under intense pressure,” says Prince Albedo, dusting his hands.

Prince Cyno shields his eyes from the sun, looking at the other men. “Alright, gentlemen. Shall we rescue their royal highness from their tower?” asks Prince Cyno, the corners of his lips quirking up.

The men grab the rope, and Prince Diluc starts climbing up the rope, mentally praying to the Archons the rope wouldn’t snap under immense weight. After all, over twenty people are climbing up the rope— just as long as the rope doesn’t break, sending everyone tumbling to the ground. 

Prince Aether wipes the beads of sweat forming at the base of his hairline. “You guys are certain this rope isn’t going to snap?” asks Prince Aether, looking at the other men worriedly.

“Relax, Prince Aether! This is the sturdiest rope to exist in Teyvat. Do you really think the rope is going to snap that easily?” Prince Thoma asks, nudging Prince Aether lightly with his elbow. 

Prince Scaramouche rolls his eyes and climbs up the rope, making sure to listen for the sounds of tearing and snapping. So far, there aren’t any noises from the rope— thankfully. Prince Scaramouche wants to get this over with and find out who this mysterious royal highness is. The same royal highness the king and queen of whatever kingdom is hiding from the public eye. 

“Does anyone find it strange how the king and queen were able to keep the identity of the young royal highness hidden for so long? How was their identity not leaked?” Prince Kazuha asks, tightening his grip on the rope as he climbs up the tower. 

Prince Heizou shrugs. “It is strange. It’s impossible to keep your child out of the limelight as a public figure, especially if your child is part of the royal family. I understand if the young Highness is still young. However, it’s been a little over two decades, and no one has caught a glimpse of what the royal Highness looks like,” Prince Heizou mutters, stroking his chin.

The men proceed to climb up the tower, eyeing the rope around the balcony’s railing. The railing is somehow managing to hold up over twenty people climbing the tower. It’s both a relief and a worry how the fence has yet to break under a lot of weight. After what felt like two hours, Prince Diluc reached the balcony and climbed over it, sighing in relief. The balcony is surprisingly bigger than he expected. 

“Where do you think this leads to? Their royal Highness’s bedroom?” Prince Kaeya asks, dusting his clothes.

Prince Diluc crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Prince Kaeya. “Even if it does, do not put your hands on them,” Prince Diluc instructs sternly.

Prince Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “Relax, Prince Diluc. None of us are interested in touching the mysterious royal Highness,” he says.

Prince Al Haitham grabs the door handle of the balcony entrance and slowly turns the knob. To his and everyone’s surprise, the door is unlocked. Prince Al Haitham cracks the door open and slowly enters the tower, the men tip-toeing behind him. The men collectively freeze when they realize they’re in your bedroom. The bedroom is furnished with elegant, luxury furniture. But despite the luxurious furniture around the room, the room looks barren. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Prince Tighnari whispers, gesturing toward the bed.

Prince Al Haitham takes a step closer to the bed and peeks at your face. Prince Al Haitham nods and turns to the others. “I believe this is their royal Highness the king and queen have been hiding for two decades,” Prince Al Haitham whispers.

The Princes walk around your spacious bedroom, looking around curiously. Bookshelves lined up against the wall, and a fireplace nestled between the two tall bookshelves. In the corner are a small vanity and an easel. The room is filled with many activities for you to keep yourself occupied while locked in a tower for two decades.

“What should we do? Wake them up?” Prince Pantalone asks, standing at the foot of your bed, staring down at your unconscious body.

Prince Dottore shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s best for us to wake them up from their slumber. It’ll freak them out and call for security,” Prince Dottore mutters, walking over to the door and pressing his ears against the wooden door.

The masked Prince grabs the doorhandle and twists it, only for it to become stuck. Prince Dottore furrows his eyebrows and looks at the doorknob. There’s no lock from the inside, and yet the door isn’t budging. Did they lock you in the room by any chance? Prince Dottore jiggles the doorknob to double-check, and he’s correct. The door is certainly locked from the outside, and even if you want to escape, there’s no way for you to leave the room aside through the balcony. 

Prince Capitano chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. “I don’t think their royal Highness will be calling for security,” Prince Capitano comments, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall.

“I think we should give Their Royal Highness a kiss on the lips!” Prince Venti says, throwing his legs over the railing of the balcony and strutting into the room.

The men look at each other before looking over at the short Prince, who scans around the bedroom of the tower, whistling lowly. Prince Zhongli growls lowly and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to remain calm and not explode. 

Prince Baizhu smiles at Prince Venti, tapping his fingers on his hips. “Prince Venti, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be watching and making sure there aren’t people approaching the tower?” Prince Baizhu asks.

“I knew we shouldn’t have invited him along with us. This dunce never listens when given orders,” Prince Dainsleif rolls his eyes.

Prince Venti gives the men a shit-eating grin, plops on the chair beside your bed, and stares at your sleeping face with awe. Prince Venti could stay outside and keep watch, but he doesn’t want to. Prince Pierro rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, sharp exhale. The older man looks at Prince Venti, clenching his jaws.

“I am trying my best not to strangle you right now, Prince Venti,” Prince Pierro hisses.

Prince Neuvillette hums, closing his eyes. “Aren’t we all?” Prince Neuvillette chuckles bitterly, shaking his head.

Prince Venti smirks and sticks his tongue out at the other men in the room before peeking over at you. Your chest is rising and falling at a steady pace, letting him know you’re in deep sleep. While the men aren’t sure how long you have been asleep, they need to wake you up soon to rescue you from the tower. Prince Childe stands at the foot of your bed, hands propping on his hips as he stares at your face.

“They’re kind of cute! I can see why their parents locked them away in the tower for most of their life!” says the ginger-haired prince of Snezhnaya.

The men are surprised you have yet to wake up due to the amount of talking going on in your room. At first, they were whispering, but since some of them weren’t whispering, you didn’t bat an eye when each person spoke. 

Prince Itto scoffs. “Kind of? They’re very cute! I don’t know what you mean by ‘kind of,’” says Prince Itto, gesturing air quotes with both his index and middle fingers.

“How do we wake them up without freaking them out?” Prince Aether asks, scratching his head as he peeks from Prince Venti’s head.

There are many ways the twenty-seven princes can wake you up from your slumber. Either the normal way and that is to gently shake you from your sleep, or they can not wake you up. By that, one of the men can scoop you up in their arms and climb out the window with you! But the men aren’t sure how much of a heavy or light sleeper you are, so that can be a bit challenging. 

Prince Venti claps his hands, startling the others. “We can do it in a way every fairy tale book does it! Like Snow White, for example!” Venti exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug look.

Prince Neuvillette raises his eyebrows at Prince Venti, gazing at him skeptically. “Care to elaborate on that, Prince Venti?” asks the Fontainian prince. 

Prince Heizou raises his hand. “I believe he is referring to the famous kiss of life. While it happened in Snow White, it also happened in the fairy tale Sleeping Beauty,” Prince Heizou interjects. 

Kiss of life, huh? While it sounds romantic, it doesn’t seem to be the appropriate thing to do, given that you weren’t poisoned or cursed with eternal sleep until your true love kisses you, bringing you back to life. Plus, it’s not a good idea to kiss someone you met less than thirty minutes ago— especially when they’re sleeping.

Prince Zhongli glares at Prince Venti and Prince Heizou, crossing his arms over his chest. “Kissing someone without their consent and while unconscious is very distasteful. If you dare to touch them in such a way, I will bring hell on Teyvat,” Prince Zhongli thunders. 

Everyone in the room flinches when Prince Zhongli raises his voice at the two princes. The sound of blanket ruffling and a soft exhale causes every man to freeze in the room. Prince Al Haitham turns to see you moving around on your bed, groaning softly and rubbing your eyes. Prince Ayato sighs, running his hands through his hair. Bouncing with excitement, Prince Itto, Prince Childe, and Prince Venti lean over you.

Prince Ayato rolls his eyes. “Don’t lean over them like that. You’ll freak them out,” Prince Ayato hisses quietly. 

Unable to fall back asleep, you open your eyes to see three unfamiliar faces staring down at you. Your eyes widen, and you punch the closest person to you. Prince Venti yelps and backs away, clutching his nose, while Prince Itto and Prince Childe back away. You sit up and look at the unwanted guests with fear.

“Who are you people, and why are you in my room!?” You screech, holding your pillow in front of you, using it as a shield.

Prince Gorou shakes his head rapidly, waving his hands in front of him. “Please don’t scream! We’re here to rescue you!” Prince Gorou explains, peeking at the door to make sure no one hears what’s going on.

Your bottom lip quivers as you plop over to the side, hugging your pillow tightly. If this is how you die, then you accept your fate with open arms. You don’t want to die. You really don’t want to die, but if it means you’ll finally be free from your high-rise prison, then you accept your fate. 

Prince Kazuha clears his throat. “Your Highness, are you alright?” Prince Kazuha asks softly, debating if he should approach you or not, fearing he would scare you even more.

You bury your face into your pillow. “If you’re here to kill me, just do it! I accept my fate and am willing to let you all kill me like a pig in a slaughterhouse,” you say dramatically.

Your room plunges into a tense silence. You peek from your pillow to look at the intruders, waiting for their response. The men are shocked and a little offended that you assumed they would harm you. Prince Kaveh clears his throat to grab your attention and steps forward cautiously, not wanting to scare you. You sniffle and sit up, hugging your knees to your chest while gazing at the men warily. Prince Kaveh smiles at you, tucking his blond hair behind his ear.

Prince Kaveh kneels on one knee, placing his right hand over his heart. “Your Highness, we’re not here to kill you. We’re here to rescue you from your tower,” Prince Kaveh explains.

“Rescue me from my tower? How are you guys going to do that without getting caught?” You ask.

The men look away, rubbing the back of their necks. You blink at them and look over at your bedroom door. You slowly get off your bed and walk toward the door to test out the door handle. The doorknob doesn’t budge, letting you know they did not enter your room through the door like a normal person. 

“How did you—”

“We entered through your balcony,” Prince Xiao interrupts, pointing at the balcony door that’s wide open.

Prince Kaeya chuckles, adjusting the eyepatch. “Perhaps this is a reminder for everyone to lock your doors and windows,” says Prince Kaeya.

You shake your head and walk to the vanity, plopping on the stool and running your hands through your hair. You want to escape the tour with these strange men, but how are you going to do that without causing a scene? You can either leave with these men and never look back or remain at the tower, never see the light of day other than through the balcony window. Who are these men anyway?

Your parents made sure you don’t fall behind on your education— they hired the top university professors in the world to teach you many subjects, but they never mention other important figures. Well, those who are alive, of course. You take a deep breath and stand up, facing the twenty-something men. Wait, how many people are there? You start counting heads quietly, pointing at each man as you do.

Twenty-seven men stare at you while you count how many people there are in your room. After counting, you nod and clasp your hands together. “Alright, I don’t think we’ve introduced ourselves to one another. Judging by your attire, you all are important people,” you say.

Prince Diluc raises his eyebrows at you. “Do your parents not tell you who each of us are? Or about our regions and kingdoms?” asks Prince Diluc.

You squint at Prince Diluc, stroking your chin while shaking your head. Why would your parents tell you who these men are? Kingdoms and regions, huh? So not only are they important people, but they come from the kingdoms that rule the seven nations. Your parents could care less about informing you about the current reigning monarchs of each region because they assumed you wouldn’t meet anyone from the seven regions.

The men start introducing themselves and saying what regions and kingdoms they’re from while you try to remember the names of each face. After ten minutes, every man has introduced themselves to you, and now it’s your turn. You’re not sure what to say— do you even introduce yourself as a member of the royal family, or do you present yourself as who you are? I mean, you are part of the royal family, but you’re never seen with them, nor are you seen out in public because you’re not allowed to step foot out of the high-rise prison.

“Nice to meet you all. My name’s [YN],” you introduce yourself.

Prince Thoma gazes at you with wide eyes before looking at the others. “Your Highness, you’re not going to introduce yourself as—”

You shake your head. What’s the point of introducing yourself as the child of the king and queen? The men look at each other, not saying a word. It’s not like you don’t want to introduce yourself as the child of the king and queen. The public and other kingdoms have never seen your face, and if you were to introduce yourself as whatever title within the monarchy, people would assume you’re pretending to be something you’re not. 

You clear your throat. “Are we all going to stay here, or are we going to leave? I’m worried the servants are going to pop in to check on me only to see me with twenty-seven uninvited royal guests,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

The men nod and usher you toward the balcony. You peek over the balcony and see an uncomfortable drop. You turn to look at the others, propping your hands on your hips. There’s no way in hell you’re going to climb down this easily. You’re willing to leave, but if it has anything to do with heights, you’re not going to be on board with it. Maybe that’s why your parents put you in a high-rise prison instead of a dungeon. 

“Is there a problem, Your Highness?” Prince Dainsleif asks, peering over the balcony before looking at you with worry.

You nod hesitantly. “Yes, but I don’t think we have time to worry about my worries right now,” you say, reaching for the rope, only for Prince Albedo to snatch it from your hands.

Prince Albedo sighs and shakes his head. “Your Highness, if you’re not comfortable with climbing out the balcony and down the rope, we can have someone carry you down,” Prince Albedo suggests.

Not wanting to waste time, Prince Al Haitham scoops you in his arms and throws you over his shoulders before grabbing the rope and climbing over the railing of the balcony. You squeeze your eyes shut and wrap your arms around his torso tightly as Prince Al Haitham descends with you over his shoulders. The others follow after Prince Al Haitham climbs down the tower. Prince Tighnari closes the balcony door before making his way down the rope.

“Okay, so you have successfully rescued me from my tower…” You trail off, continuing to cling onto Prince Al Haitham’s waist. “What’s going to happen after this? Do I live as a regular citizen now? Do I live in someone else’s kingdom? Are you guys going to take me to my parents' kingdom?” You ask.

Once everyone made it down the tower, Prince Wriothesley yanks the rope from the railing before wrapping the rope and storing it in the leather rucksack. You wiggle your feet in the grass and pause, only to realize you don’t have shoes on, nor do you have shoes on your person. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” Prince Wriothesley asks, approaching you.

You press your lips into a thin line. You don’t want to be a burden if you tell them you don’t have shoes on— how could you forget to wear shoes? Then again, you rarely leave the tower, so shoes weren’t a necessity for you. 

“Did you forget something, Your Highness?” A suave voice asks.

You turn to see a shorter male leaning against the tower. You blink at the man and turn to the other princes behind you. There are twenty-seven of them, but who in the world is this man? Prince Cyno and Prince Baizhu trade looks before looking at the approaching man. The man pulls your shoes out of thin air before dropping down on one knee, helping you put your shoes on. The princes around you mutter to themselves while watching the man before you put your shoes on your feet before standing up. The man bows gracefully, tips his hat forward, and winks at you with a smirk.

“If it weren’t for me, you would be parading around the nation barefooted,” says the mysterious man.

Prince Cyno sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Prince Lyney, I did not expect to see you here,” says Prince Cyno.

Another prince? How many princes are there in Teyvat? Prince Lyney smiles at Prince Cyno and waves at him with a wide smile. At least you don’t have to worry about walking around barefooted. It’s still early in the afternoon, and your fate after leaving the castle remains a mystery. If your parents know you managed to escape the tower, who knows what they will do aside from having a search party for you. You love your parents, you really do! But you don’t see them as often as you see the servants at the tower.

“Where are we going to take their Highness,” asks Prince Scaramouche, crossing his arms over his chest.

The men fall silent and look at each other. You prop your hands on your hips and sigh. These men did not think this through. While it’s nice to be rescued, you don’t want to be seen outside of the tower if there isn’t a plan after the rescue portion of the plan. Even if the majority of the public has no idea what you look like, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Pantalone strokes his chin. “We’re going to take you to another nation. Far away from where your kingdom and tower reside—”

You cut him off. “And have you all decided on what nation I’m going to be smuggled into?” you ask.

“That we do not,” Dottore says, shaking his head.

You visibly deflate, sighing in defeat. You’re okay with being smuggled into any nation! However, these men not knowing what nation they wanted to smuggle you into is sort of a problem. 

Prince Tighnari smiles at you sympathetically and pats your head. “Do you have a preference?” asks Prince Tighnari.

You shake your head. “Not really, no,” you reply. You look around, making sure there’s no one listening in on your conversation. “Let’s get moving before one of the servants catches us out here.”

Prince Capitano, the masked (helmeted?) prince of an unknown nation, leads the way away from the tower. You look over your shoulders at your high-rise prison one last time before turning back around. You hope if your parents have a search party over your disappearance, they will never find you. 

Even if your parents know what you look like, the entire nation and the entirety of Teyvat have no idea what you look like. So, that makes you wonder how your parents are going to have a search party for you if the entirety of Teyvat (aside from a selected few) has no idea what you look like. To be honest, just thinking about it makes you a tad bit nervous about what’s going to happen in the future.

“Something on your mind, Your Highness?” asks Prince Capitano.

You shake your head and rub your temples. “No, no, not really. Although I am starting to get a headache,” you sigh.

You’re not lying when you say you’re starting to get a headache. The back of your head is throbbing, and it makes you want to drop everything and take a nap. Prince Baizhu steps up and points at the large tree in the distance.

“Get underneath the shade of the tree, and I’ll conduct a health check-up before we continue our journey,” Prince Baizhu instructs.

Prince Pierro scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the shade. It’s warm outside, but not uncomfortably warm. It's just warm enough for you to not overheat or break out in sweats. Prince Pierro sits you down at the base of the tree and has you lean against the tree trunk. You tilt your head back and look at your surroundings. There are so many trees around you that it shocks you— not because of the number of trees, but because your parents kept you in a locked tower with a few servants for most of your life, surrounded by nothing but vegetation.

Prince Baizhu does a small check-up on you, handing you a bottle of water from the rucksack Prince Diluc was carrying. The green-haired prince starts massaging your temples while you close your eyes with contentment. 

Prince Al Haitham looks around, making sure no one is following your group. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do the servants treat you at your tower?” asks the gray-haired prince.

You crack your eyes open and look at Prince Al Haitham. “They treat me okay. I’m not allowed to leave my room unless I need to use the bathroom. They bring food to my room along with medication if I’m sick,” you reply.

The men stare at you in disbelief. From what you told them, it doesn’t sound like a comfortable lifestyle for you. Yes, they didn’t mistreat you, but you weren’t allowed to leave your room unless it was necessary. Heck, you weren’t allowed to leave your bedroom to get food. The servants bring food to your room and leave, locking the door behind them.

Prince Pierro sighs, shaking his head. “Sounds like they’re treating you like a prisoner,” Prince Pierro mutters.

“Do you know why your parents keep you locked up in the tower by any chance?” Prince Gorou asks, sitting beside you.

You shake your head. “Aside from wanting to protect me, not really. Whenever I ask them, they would brush it off or change the conversation.”

Now that you think about it, you never knew the actual reason why they kept you locked up in the tower. Your parents wanted to keep you away from the limelight, and to protect you could be an excuse for something else. 

“Well, whatever their reason is, it’s not good enough. The best thing we can do is—” Prince Tighnari freezes, his ears twitching.

Prince Ayato looks at Prince Tighnari worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“I hear sirens from a distance,” Tighnari whispers.

Your eyes widen, and you push yourself off the ground. “Oh no,” you whisper. 

“The siren is coming from the tower,” Prince Zhongli mutters. 

You and the twenty-eight princes are in the middle of nowhere in the forest. As Prince Zhongli said, the only thing that could have sirens is the tower. Prince Zhongli grabs ahold of your wrist and carries you bridal style before running with the other princes in tow.

“What’s going to happen if we get caught? I can’t go back there! I refuse to go back to the tower,” you say, gripping the sleeves of Prince Zhongli’s coat tightly.

“We won’t get caught, Your Highness! We’ll make sure you don’t return to the tower,” says Prince Neuvillette.

You and the princes can’t possibly be caught, right? The only people (aside from you and the twenty-eight princes) are the servants. There aren’t guards around the tower unless it’s a monthly security check at the tower ordered by your parents. You can’t go back to the tower, you can’t! You refuse to go back there! The possibility of you returning to the tower is fifty-fifty, and if you were to be forced to return to your high-rise prison, chances are, the security is going to be tight, and you will be under constant surveillance. So much for a happily ever after.

Note: Before anyone makes a comment on certain characters being too old to be a prince (Pierro, Capitano, Zhongli, Venti, etc.)... mind you, Prince Charles exists, and that man did not become a king until his mother died. That man finally got the title of King in his 70s. Plus, I decided to make every man a prince because changing up titles is a little bit hard to keep up— especially when it involves almost 30 men. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist for my Genshin fics: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie, @inapileofbooke

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[yunverse]

REALITY CHECK❕️ ── lee heeseung

banner credits to the talented @maiverie

✸ ── "holy shit? I must be dreaming because when did such fine men exist in real life"

PAIRING › non-idol! heeseung x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS › Shocked by the sudden revelations, yn realizes that she has been pulled into another world belonging to her favourite reverse-harem novel as the female lead’s best friend. Content with her new life, she excitedly watches from the sidelines knowing every single encounter in the novel would be unravelling right in front of her. However, as time goes on, she slowly comes to the horrifying realization that the characters she seemingly idolized are not who they seem to be.

GENRE › social media au, isekai-type au, high school au, fluff, angst, stranger to lovers (ish), crack

WARNINGS › profanity, mentions of school violence, ignore timestamps, I'm not that funny I'm sorry (more to be added in specific chapters)

AUTHOR'S NOTE › hello hi! this is my first smau on this account! Please note that this is a work of fiction and is in no way affiliated with heeseung or the other enhypen members.

STATUS › ongoing (TAGLIST OPEN)

── PROLOGUE

✰ PROFILES

[ 1 ] — LOVE OPERATION CREW!

[ 2 ] — PLOT ARMOUR FAVS

✰ CHAPTERS

ONE — DEATH COUNTDOWN

TWO — CHILLAX BITCH BOY

THREE — DETECTIVE ERA

FOUR — YOU'LL BE THE DEATH OF ME

FIVE — ROYALLY FUCKED UP

SIX — HMM HOW ODD

SEVEN — NO BIG DEAL

EIGHT — MATCHMAKING ANGEL

NINE — TRIGGERING VIOLENCE

TEN — ON MY MIND

ELEVEN — WE HAD A DEAL

TWELVE — GOODNIGHT YN

THIRTEEN — WAIT, THIS IS KINDA WEIRD

FOURTEEN — DO ME A FAVOUR

FIFTEEN — HAG HUMOR

SIXTEEN — IT'S PLATONIC!

SEVENTEEN — VALENTINE’S DAY

EIGHTEEN — LOL YUI FLOP

NINETEEN — A LOT TO UNPACK

TWENTY — GENIUS SUNOO

TWENTY ONE — HEESEUNG = FUN GUY!

TWENTY TWO — YN WAKE UP

TWENTY THREE — TAKE THIS DOWN

TWENTY FOUR — SO SELFISH

TWENTY FIVE — CHOCOLATE CRAYONS

TWENTY SIX — WHO EVEN ARE YOU?

TWENTY SEVEN — MANIPULATION = KEY TO SUCCESS

TWENTY EIGHT — YOU'RE A MONSTER

TWENTY NINE — DELULU MAN

THIRTY — REVEAL

THIRTY ONE — THE NOTEBOOK

THIRTY TWO —

+ more to come

TAGLIST

@msxflower @dearhee @95fxcks @ahnneyong @enhasolace @navsnct @hyukabean @chocolate-peachcandy @seungkwan-s @cyuuupid @jeno-smilez @exatse @articxari @sbnchaos @jangwonie @paragonofroyalty @dreamenvi @flower-lise @jaylaxies @igotkpoops @user103843 @kyeongvbs @mavlogist @tsukilluminatednights @i-yeseo @gloomysunny @m00nylup1n @harperwasstaken1 @ckline35 @uwudaizy @faiirybread @luvdokja @bigtoewinwin @2bbang-hoon @chimajeyn @junnniiieee07 @stopeatread @lublycho @skyvwonie @captivq @nyfwyeonjun @ctrlemis @mybabywearschanel @tsubasshi @haerinism @iamminnie @iichaeyj @solxrssun @maybee-may @kimmchijjajang

© yunverse 2022

[alj4890]

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

(Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) in a Choices The Royal Romance Crackship AU

Masterlist

Song Inspiration for Series: Can't Take My Eyes Off of You by Lauryn Hill

Song Inspiration for Maxwell: Dance Alone by Blanks

Prologue

July twenty-fourth.

That date would always be special. Frankly, there was no better day of the year save for Christmas and New Year's. Maybe a birthday, but nah. July twenty-fourth was the day to celebrate.

At least, that was what Maxwell Beaumont thought.

Ever since he was a little boy, that particular day of the year was the event of his life. It was the one day where he used all his boldness and wild planning to shoot his shot. It was the one chance he took to win what had become the Holy Grail of Women.

He used that particular date each year to get Olivia Nevrakis to realize he was her true love.

It really was all her fault. He'd been a little boy, minding his own business, when she'd done something so incredibly awesome that he couldn't help but fall head over heels for her.

She, the coolest swords woman he'd ever seen in his seven years on this earth, gave him a sword.

Granted it was wooden, because who in their right mind would give a seven year old a real one, no matter how badly he longed for the ones at Ramsford? But still, she gave it to him. Not Liam. Not Drake. Him. Maxwell Percival Beaumont received a sword similar to her own Zenobia.

"Whoa!" He held it as if she'd handed him something incredibly precious. "Does it have a name like yours, Libby?"

"Uh huh." She beamed at him for knowing that swords should. "It's called Diavolos. He was Zenobia's brother.''

"Cool." He breathed, giving it a few practice swings.

She then placed her little hand over his to help guide him in a proper form.

Maxwell hadn't thought anything about her doing so. After all, she was his friend. They touched all the time playing together. But, Drake had seen them and began to taunt them.

"You'll get cooties, Max!" He shouted while running past. "Don't let her touch you!"

Olivia glared at him. Her sword trembled in her fist as she jerked her hand from Maxwell's. Color bloomed on her cheeks over being caught touching a boy of all things.

"Come on." She ordered, stomping further into the hedge maze. "We can practice over here."

In what would become a way of life for him, Maxwell eagerly followed her all while ignoring what anyone else said or thought about it.

****************

Five years later...

"Effulgent?" Liam tilted his head as he read all that Maxwell had written.

"Yeah! Her smile is radiant! It always makes me feel like I'm glowing." Maxwell told him.

"Who is this for?" Liam asked.

"Oh." Maxwell's face flushed a bright red from the tips of his ears down to his neck. "Just um, someone."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Liam added.

"No, it isn't that I don't want to. It's just, well, she's special to me." Maxwell admitted.

"She must be." Liam flipped through the pages of poetry his friend had created.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Maxwell asked.

Liam glanced up at his friend's hopeful expression. "I don't see why she wouldn't. Most girls seem to love poetry."

"She isn't like most girls." Maxwell muttered. "She isn't like any of them."

He fought against his doubts. It was July twenty-fourth, after all. This was the day to give her something special he'd spent weeks on. That poem would show her that his heart was not only true, but also hers.

Liam handed it back to him. "Good luck."

"Thanks!" Maxwell beamed at him. "I'll let you know if it works!"

He dashed out of the prince's chambers and hurried off to find Olivia.

**************

Thirteen years after that poem...

Maxwell took a long, deep breath then slowly released it.

"This is the year."

"You are correct." Bertrand grumbled. "This is the year everyone finds out that we are ruined."

"That's not what I meant." Maxwell grinned at him. "Good things are going to happen this year for us. I can feel it!"

Bertrand humphed. He couldn't feel anything but dread over the world finding out what a failure he'd been as a duke.

"Lady Bethany called. She refused our sponsorship."

Maxwell shrugged. "We'll find someone."

"How?! The season starts in three days! We won't find any decent woman to represent House Beaumont!" Bertrand shouted.

"Maybe we'll find someone indecent." Maxwell teased.

"Maxwell!" Bertrand pinched the bridge of his nose and took a few deep breaths. "I don't have time for your foolishness."

"Look. We'll be fine." Maxwell wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders. "I promise we'll find a way out of this. Besides, Liam already has more women than he knows what to do with."

"I'm not as worried about Liam as I am our reputation." Bertrand grumbled. "I have no doubt with all the ladies taking part in this that he'll find the perfect queen. What will people think about us not having a suitable option for him?"

"Hold up." Maxwell's eyes widened. "All the ladies of the Court are participating in this?"

"Everyone that's single." Bertrand's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing." Maxwell slumped down into a chair. "Just my whole world and future crumbling right before my eyes."

"Your whole world? What are you talking about?" Bertrand demanded.

"It's no big deal." Maxwell got to his feet. "I um, I have to go call Drake. We plan on taking Liam out for a bachelor party before all the craziness commences. Want to come along? It'll be like old times."

"No thank you." Bertrand began to head towards his study. "I've got some things here that require my attention."

Maxwell waited until the door was shut before he fell back in his chair. His mind whirled with the possibility of Olivia not only being a choice for Liam but in her actually being chosen.

"Who wouldn't pick her?" He mumbled to himself.

He rubbed his hands over his face. His only hope was that Liam would fall in love with someone. There was a good chance he might, especially if some new ladies were added to the mix. Then once the prince chose someone else, the field would be wide open once more for Maxwell to try again.

He usually waited until the twenty-fourth to go big.

Maybe I should mix it up this year. Instead of throwing everything I got on that one day, why don't I do something each day that makes her notice me.

They would be stuck together at all the upcoming events. Though she'd be there for Liam, it didn't mean that she couldn't have her attention stolen away from the prince every now and then.

Maxwell had never once been subtle with his crush. He thought Olivia appreciated blunt honesty, and maybe she did. Maybe if he wasn't overtly professing his undying love, it might shake her up some and want to know why he wasn't pursuing her like crazy.

He grinned to himself as a plan began to take tentative shape.

This is it! This is the year where she'll finally admit I am her perfect match.

[braxiatel]

👀

(Hehehehe let's see what thoughts u shall bestow upon me KEKW)

For you purp anon,  something that isn’t an abandoned WIP, but rather one I have put on pause to focus on other projects. Here is part of the opening of my Kingdom of Boatem AU.

---

It was just after the sixth new moon of the twenty-second year of Scar’s life when he heard the news that Queen Antonaia of Boatem, her husband, and her eldest son had perished in a tragic airship accident. A mere three days later Scar was loaded into a carriage alongside all of his belongings, set to go to Boatem.

The late Queen had had three children, of which two now remained. Prince Mumbo, and young Princess Pearl.

No, not Prince Mumbo. Crown Prince Mumbo, incumbent ruler of Boatem.

Scar knew with certainty that by the time he and his entourage had completed the month-long journey to Boatem, he would be addressing the man as King. He might have made it to the coronation had he travelled by airship, but in present circumstances that did not seem wise.

Scar had met Mumbo only twice, and he only recalled the latter of the two. They had both been teenagers still. The Prince had seemed quite shy to Scar, barely speaking a word the entire day. Scar had thought then that perhaps that was for the best - his stepmother always told him off for talking so much, but would that not fit the much more quiet Prince Mumbo perfectly?

The other time they had met Scar had been a mere four years old, Prince Mumbo only three. It had been the day the two of them became officially betrothed, set to be married when Scar reached his twenty-sixth year - Or earlier, should circumstance dictate.

[...]

[H]is carriage finally approached the royal Palace of Boatem, which perched at the very top of one of the many mountains scattered across the region.

The long trip had left him tired to the bone, and he was oddly grateful to see such a small reception waiting for him. He had feared that the whole court would be here to greet their new… whatever his title would be.

Apart from the guards, of which there was an abundance, Scar counted only seven people waiting at the foot of the grand staircase.

Two men stood in the front, one half a step ahead of the other.

He was tall, thought Scar. Much taller than last time.

It was, perhaps, exaggerated by the winged man next to him being so short of stature, but even so, Scar was certain that his betrothed would stand taller than him, an impressive feat given that elves were generally taller than most other races.

Scar easily recognised the crown on his betrothed’s head as the royal crown of Boatem. He had missed the coronation, then. As he neared he could make out what looked like a modified guard’s uniform on the man next to King Mumbo. A bodyguard, probably, Scar decided. It made sense, with three members of the royal family having perished so recently.

“Here we go, Jellie,” he murmured, giving her one last stroke on the head for good luck. “You be nice to whoever shows you to our rooms, you hear me? We want to make a good impression.”

Jellie simply yawned in response, curling up in her seat.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Scar sighed as the carriage pulled to a stop.

(ask meme!)

[polizwrites]

PoliZ's WIP Update: 27 Feb 2024

Still busy IRL, which cuts into my writing time/energy.   I touched  3 fics (3 new works & 0 WIPs) for a total of  1726  words.  

On Ao3, I posted: 

Chapter One of  A Vision of Things To Come - WinterIron time travel shenanigans with wartime!Bucky. 

The Hour of Denial - wartime Stucky love confessions

At Full Tilt -  Medieval AU ficlet with  Knight!Steve vs Knight!Winter Soldier  (minor Stony) 

The Best Part of Waking Up  - present-day Stucky PWP fluff. 

On Tumblr I posted: 

 The Hour of Denial - pretty much what ended up on Ao3. 

I’m juggling  17 😬 active/semi-active WIPs with my current  deadline being the Post July Break Bingo, which ends in April. 

See  below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc.  As always, feel free to send me   prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding  any of these projects  or any other WIPs I’ve got out there.   Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Tony Stark Bingo Round 7  - [TSB_R7]   (ends 15 Feb)

Masterpost 

Stony AUniverse Bingo  [SAUB_R1] (ends 15 Feb)

Final count - twenty-one fills for five bingos - hoping this event comes back so I can carry over a couple of squares!   Masterpost forthcoming….   

Captain (America) Bottom Bingo - Round 2 [CABB] (ends 28 Feb 2024)

I signed up for a 3x3 card for this bingo and managed a blackout plus an adopted square - woo hoo!  Masterpost forthcoming...

* B1 - "All I wanted was for you to be happy." - Posted The Hour of Denial  on Monday - a wartime Stucky love confession ficlet that crossed over with last week’s Flash Fiction Friday prompt:  [#FFF241 Hour of Denial]  and came in at 360 words. 

* B3 - Royal Knight - Posted  At Full Tilt  on Tuesday - Medieval AU where knight!Steve is jousting against knight!Winter Soldier. It crossed over (kinda) with my SRB Red Skull square  and came in at 618 words. 

* C3 - Bath/shower sex  - posted The Best Part of Waking Up as a crossover with the BaBB February prompt: Morning Sex.  Steve comes back after a morning run to take a shower - and is joined by a horny Bucky.  PWP to the tune of 899 words ensues. 

Post July Break Bingo  [JBB_23p] (Ends Apr 2024)

One fill on my  2x3 non-fandom-specific card - still working on  potential crossovers.

* A1 - “It’s you. It’s always been you.” - I should have squeezed this into the Stucky love confession fic! Ah well - guess I’ll have to write another one  😁

* B2 - Character’s personality is split into two different beings – I’ve never played with Bucky & the Soldier being two different people, but this seems like the perfect opportunity! Will see what might be a good crossover on one of my open cards.

*  C1 - Touch Starved – another good fit for a Bucky-centric fic. (Steve or Tony or Clint).

Steve Rogers Bingo - Round 3 [SRB_R3] (ends  15 Jun 2024)

Seven  fills and one WIP - need to ponder possible crossovers, especially with  CABB.  

* A1 - Steve can actually dance just fine - Matched this up with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt  [#FFF238 Take My Hand]  for   Finding a Partner -  where Steve & Natasha go dancing (potential pre-slash). It came in at  239 words and will post to Ao3 before the event is over.    

* A5 - Red Skull -  squished this into  At Full Tilt    - see CABB Royal Knight prompt above. 

* C5 - Exes to Lovers  -  see what the March BaBB list brings?    

Bucky Barnes Connect Four - Alt Jun-iverse [BBC4_R2]  {Ends June 2024}

The good folks over at @buckybarnesevents  have opened this event up early!  You sign up for a single row card of four squares and the challenge is to see if you can combine any/all into a single Bucky-centric AU fanwork - although you can also create 2-4 separate fanworks if you want.  

The combo of prompts on my first card [Reality Show,  Omegaverse, Talent/Manager, Royalty] sparked an idea that I’m about 230 words + misc notes into already -  Alpha!Bucky as a technical prince   who gets talked into joining a reality show that is supposed to match him up with an omega… but there’s a twist!  Planning to pick this back up in the next week or so.  

Hawkeyes Bingo [HB_R2] {Ends TBD} 

Just signed up for this fun Tumblr event - got a 3x3 card and and am looking forward to creating more  Clint-centric content and trying my hand at a bit of  Kate Bishop fic as well!    

*A1 - Werewolf AU -  wrote Shooting for the Moon -  Werewolf!Bucky’s POV on the  second half of A Hairy Situation. It came in at 811 words and will get posted to Ao3 sometime in the next couple weeks. 

* A3 - Awkward Flirting – this might be a good entry into my first femslash fic with Kate/Yelena?    

Build-A-Bucky Bingo [BaBB_R1] {Ends Oct 2024}

Another fun year-long  event from the folks at  @buckybarnesevents!  Each month there’s a list of prompts and you choose (at least) one  each month for your card!

* November:  Crackfic - DONE  

* December: Wingman  - DONE

* January: Wingfic  - DONE

*January: Polyamory - DONE

* February -  Fingering -  DONE

* February - Morning Sex - see CABB Bath/Shower Sex. 

Warm and Fluffy   Bingo  [WFB]   (no end date)

Four  fills on my card, courtesy of   @warmandfluffybingocards  - need to try for another crossover or two!

————

On  other creative fronts:  I am working on a Godzilla figure for this weekend’s convention - I’ve finished all my  Marvel Trumps Hate  figures, but still need to create posts (and mail one set) . 

If  you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check  out Stuffed With Character    over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 150!).   These soft stuffed figures are  mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC   and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design   requests  for any fandom!

[floral-poisons]

tall, blond, dark, & mean

pairing: vil schoenheit x gn! reader word count: 2.4k words warnings: mentions of death, political conflict, and political assassination, threats notes: this is a fic that takes place in the little high fantasy au i made for twisted wonderland (check head canons here). it takes place outside of the main story where mc/reader/yuu is not the heir to wonderland but rather is apart of vil’s royal court. vil is in his mid-twenties while mc/reader/yuu are in your early twenties. you and epel are the same age in this fic. the title is also in reference to a lyric from “it’s raining men” (i personally listen to the version by deathbyromy because of promising young woman). ao3 link: 👑👑👑

The wax seal glinted in the light of his room, the fire of the candles flickering with the gentle breeze coming from whereabouts unknown. He picked up the dagger lodged in his mahogany desk and sliced the envelope open. Pulling out the letter, his violet eyes scanned the contents of it before smiling. “My, my, my. Another success Rook.” He pins the letter next on the board with magic. “Everything is going according to plan…This is perfect! But I’m missing a piece of the puzzle.” He scoffs. “I can think about that another day. For now, a well deserved wine break.”

— — —

The Queen had fallen asleep during his carriage ride to the countryside palace. To be fair, it was quite a few hours' journey and he had stayed up all night writing invitations for the Spring Venture, as well as continuing the intricate plan to maintain power. His carriage was rather cushy, which was to be expected, and he had chosen to wear something not as fabulous. It was a rarity to see the Queen in such a comfortable, relaxed state that was a little messy. No makeup, his hair left down, casual comfy clothes. His crown was in its box next to him as he slept. The carriage ran over a rock, causing the carriage to bump up. “Ah, fuck…” He mutters, his eyes opening. He let out a yawn and pulled the curtain back, watching as the palace came into view. The carriage came to a stop and the door opened. His hand picked up the box with his crown and exited.

“Queen Schoenheit.” The servants bowed.

“Yes of course.” Vil stretches his arms above his head and lets out a sigh of relief upon hearing a ton of cracks that release the tension with his bones. He took the crown out from its box and placed it on his head. Hearing footsteps, he smiled upon seeing who it was. “(Y/N) (L/N). It’s been a while.”

“My Queen.” You bowed. “It is a pleasure to see you once again.”

“Thank you for coming early to help me prepare.”

“Of course. My parents were pleased to send me here.” You smiled.

“Do tell me how the Duke and Duchess are doing.” He began walking with you walking besides him.

“My parents are doing alright. My mother has recovered from her illness and my father goes on his daily hunts as per usual.” You adjust your outfit. Unlike the Queen, you were in more formal clothes but it was still casual and loose. “They bid you good wishes and sorrows for not being able to make it to this year’s Spring Venture.”

“Well that is quite alright. Your mother has been confined to her room for quite some time. Let her enjoy her home for now. The plants here might end up causing her an allergy reaction.”

“Ah, my mother. Severe allergies.” You shake your head. “Thank the Great Seven that I did not inherit such allergies.”

“Well, I would argue you inherited some other things.”

“Like what?”

“A lack of common sense.” He smirks.

“My Queen. That is not funny.” You scoff as he laughs.

“I cannot help it. You’ve been riding horses since you were a child and yet you still somehow can’t manage to mount them properly. Not to mention all the times you forgot to look while we were walking around in the streets. And also how you almost stabbed your own eye out because you did not carry scissors properly—”

“Okay, okay. You don’t need to remind me, My Queen.”

“(Y/N), you can call me Vil. You know that.” He scoffs. “Hearing you constantly call me Queen while we’re having private conversations is unnatural.”

“Oh Vil.” You chuckled. “We’ve been doing this since we were kids.”

— — —

You were panting as you ran, shoes making splashes in the puddles. Today it was raining and you had nothing but a cloak over your head to protect yourself from the rain. The streets were crowded as people were doing their daily routines of shopping and bargaining. The tight alleyway opened up to the town square with a fountain and statue. Your face brightened seeing what was happening before you.

“Ladies and gentlemen and gentlepeople! Thank you for coming to today’s performance!” His breathing was heavy. “Tips will be greatly appreciated.” He watched as a few people left money in the tin can.

“Vil!” You called over. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“It’s okay. You’re busy. I get it.” The young Vil adjusted his cloak to cover his hair. “Today I played the Evil Queen. I think I fit the role the best.”

“You’re as beautiful as the Queen. No, even more beautiful!”

“Am I? Maybe one day I will become Queen!”

“Queen Schoenheit. That will be the only true Queen in my book!”

— — —

“I guess.” Vil sighs. “Anyways, our plan will be set in motion this Spring Venture. I have figured out the missing piece to this puzzle.”

“You have? What exactly do you have in mind?”

“It’s quite simple actually.” The door was opened for the two of you as you entered. “It’s been under my nose the whole time. But what will happen is purely circumstantial and would require a bit of luck.”

“Luck huh?”

“Yes.” Vil opened a door and let you in, closing it behind him and locking the door. “The doors of this study are sealed with magic. No one would be able to listen since the magic affects our speech. They’ll hear something entirely different.”

“Smart. So, what is it?” You look out the window. The gardens were pretty and in a week or so, the entire garden would be crawling with elites and the nobility. “That missing piece.”

“A spy.”

“A spy? For the LeBlanche Opposition?”

“Exactly. And the one I need,” Vil unlocked his drawer and pulled out a copy of the invitation he had sent. He handed it to you.

“The Lord Cerise? But he hasn’t been here for years!” You exclaimed. “The previous Lord passed away and didn’t attend due to his failing health. And his only heir refuses to come!”

“He’ll come this year. I’ve made certain of it.”

“How?”

“Well, I’ve figured out his logic. Epel believes in doing what’s best for him and his partner. His partner has a painting apprenticeship. Epel wants what’s best for his partner and that includes bringing them here. High profile clients, people with tons of money to spend like water. It’s just like how Rook’s partner conducts business as a dressmaker. Epel would not bother giving up this chance, not after his partner just got the apprenticeship.”

“Sometimes I question you.” You raised an eyebrow. “What does his partner have to do with the plan?”

“It’s simple really.” Vil smiles. But this smile wasn’t warm. “Leverage.”

“And I thought you couldn’t get more evil than me. Poisoning my own mother so I can inherit everything from my brothers.” You scoff but a smile forms on your face. “Using a noble’s loved one as leverage? Clever.”

“It’s required.” Vil looks out the window, his expression darkening. “That is what lies with people like us. People from the gutters. They underestimate us.”

“I’m assuming this must mean you need Rook and his partner?”

“Yes of course. And you as well.”

“Me? What role do I have to play?”

“It’ll be simple. During the first dinner of the first night, while everyone’s gambling, you will be with the dressmaker and invite Epel’s partner to paint you as a sort of sample, like you’re testing their skills as a painter. If everything goes well, you get a portrait and pay. If not, then Epel’s dear partner loses their hands.”

“That is unnecessarily cruel.” You chuckle. “But you were always one for theatrics.”

“I am thorough. Epel would never dare let his partner’s livelihood be threatened. And if he lets it happen…then I underestimated him.”

— — —

A yawn left your lips. Preparations have finally ended. Tomorrow, all the nobles would be coming to the palace for the Spring Venture. The notable target was, obviously, Lord Epel Cerise and his partner. Vil needed to complete his plan to remain on the throne. “Great Seven. It’s late.” You look at the clock. However, something catches your ear. There was the sound of music coming from an empty room. Gently, your footsteps followed and opened the door. You watched silently as the Queen moved. He was clearly practicing his ballroom dancing skills, still in a dress. His heels clicked against the marble, hair swaying with the movement of his body. He looked gorgeous and ever so radiant in the moonlight.

“(Y/N)?”

“Ah!” You jumped a bit. “I didn’t think you’d notice me.”

“Well, you’re literally standing in the doorway, watching me practice.” He crosses his arms. “Do you wanna join?”

“I…well—”

“You need to improve your dance skills, you know.”

“Okay fine! What are you even wearing?”

“It’s a prototype of this ballgown I had custom made. I need to get used to wearing it, hence this. Have to adjust the width of my steps and whatnot.”

“I see.” You place your hands at the appropriate places. “I’ll let you lead.”

“Good.” Vil began leading you in the ballroom. The two of you were silent as you guys danced. You yourself were busy focusing on your own steps, trying to match Vil’s pace without much issue. Though he was quite tall which is a bit ironic considering you were the taller one when you guys were children. You weren’t paying too much attention to him or your surroundings.

“(Y/N).”

“Yes?” You look up at him.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Of course Vil. You’re my friend.”

“Dedicate yourself to me.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widened at the sound of that. His facial expression was serious.

“Dedicate yourself to me. Be loyal to me. I want you to be loyal to me and no one else. Promise you won’t betray me like every other noble here.” Vil pulls you closer to his body by your waist. The two of you have stopped dancing by now. “I can’t trust anyone here. No one except you. Only you understand me, understand my pain, and the position I am in. So promise me and dedicate yourself to me.”

“Oh course, Queen Schoenheit. I, (Y/N) (L/N), dedicate myself to you.” You whisper, your face leaning closer to his. “Everything. My body, my mind, my soul.”

“Then it is final.” Vil leans closer. “May I kiss you?”

“Vil…Of course.”

He leans in, his lips pressing onto yours.

— — —

“Great Seven, today’s weather is pretty hot.” You fanned yourself with a hand fan, looking around. Rook wasn’t here yet. That was who you were looking for in particular. Your thoughts drifted back to last night and you shook your head. You couldn’t be thinking about that right now. Whatever happened last night was just…pure coincidence from between you and Vil. Your face brightened seeing a familiar carriage pull up. It stopped and from the carriage emerged Rook and the dressmaker. You walked over to them. “Marquess Hunt. Dressmaker. It’s good to see you both arrived safely.”

“Likewise.” The dressmaker nods.

“Now please follow me. The Queen requests to see you both immediately.” You turn around, guiding them to Vil’s study. You opened the door, letting them in, before closing you. You would leave them to their business.

“Rook, you have finally arrived.” Vil was sorting through his papers. “It’s nice to see you. And dressmaker.”

“Roi du Poison. I look forward to this year’s Spring Venture.” Rook put a hand over his chest. “Please tell me you put archery on the itinerary.”

“So you could beat me?” Vil raises an eyebrow. “I mean I did. But I look forward to seeing who wins: you or the dressmaker.”

“Oh I highly doubt I would win. Rook’s always been better at archery than I have.” The dressmaker laughs nervously.

“Seeing you two compete is very entertaining.” Vil chuckles before seeing Rook pull out an envelope. “Oh?”

“A report on the Earl Oiseau.” Rook hands it to him. Vil picks up his dagger and slices the envelope open before pulling out the letter. His violet eyes briefly scanned the content before putting it in a drawer.

“Good. I am satisfied with your service. But speaking of plans,” Vil intertwined his hands on his desk and placed his chin on them, looking at the two people across from him. “I have a new job for you.”

Rook tensed up but the dressmaker was relaxed. “What is it, Roi du Poison?”

“I just need you and the dressmaker to participate in something tonight. I have figured out the last piece of the puzzle for my plan to maintain power and that includes the Lord Cerise and his little partner. I just need the dressmaker to be with (Y/N) and Rook, with me. Is that alright?” He cocks his head to the side.

“Of course, my Queen.” Both of them bow in unison.

“Good, good. Tonight must go well.” Vil leans back in his seat, his head turning to look outside. He could see Epel and his partner. They were busy talking to other nobles it seemed.

— — —

“My Queen, are you ready?” You enter the hallway. It was only Vil and some servants, adjusting the fabric of his outfit. A tight form fitting dress that hugged his figure, golden heels, gold jewelry, his crown, and a billowing cloak that would flow behind him. Your own outfit was tight and it was black and gold. The silhouette hugged your figure quite comfortably. At least you could breathe. Other nobles? Not so much. “Everyone is waiting.”

“I am.” Vil turns his head to look in the mirror for a second before looking back at you. He smiles. “You look lovely (Y/N).”

“Oh my Queen. You flatter me.”

“I told you to call me Vil in private.” He scoffs.

“I can’t help it. Tonight is a formal dinner and some people might overhear us.”

“I guess. Can’t have people knowing who’s buddy-buddy with me.” He rolled his eyes.

“Well I will alert people of your entrance.” You exit the hallway, seeing the group of chattering people. You noticed Epel and Rook talking. Clearing your throat, you projected your voice. “Thank you all for attending.” The room went silent with your voice. “The Queen is most pleased by this year’s attendance to the annual Spring Countryside Venture. He welcomes everyone with open arms and generosity. Tonight’s dinner will now commence.”

“Now, the acting monarch, Queen Schoenheit!”

[birrdies]

the king & the exile | (part 1/? of third life dnd au)

It’s odd how a place that once bit with sharp teeth now welcomes him with open arms, the iron gates at the northern wall wide open and granting entry for all. Come and rejoice, the open gates scream. Come and witness the new era of the kingdom. A coronation, as he had heard by word of mouth. The first in nearly twenty years. 

A new King is to take the throne. Etho always knew this day would come. But it always felt like something so distant, back then. Intangible, even. Someday rather than today. But the day has arrived, and the jubilant coronation has claimed every inch of the city. Festive banners and streamers, ice blue and white, hang between the awnings of local shops on either side of the narrow street. Just up the hill, through the winding shopping district, the path leads to the base of the Frost Kingdom’s sanctioned chapel. 

He’s never seen the city so crowded. But then again, he hasn’t seen it (or walked these cobblestone paths) since he was half as tall as he is now. The world always felt so much larger when he was that small. When he still had to crane his neck back to take everything in, when his bow was too big to fit in his hands. A minnow lost in the depths of what he saw to be a bottomless ocean. To young eyes, the curve of the world would give away to that black water and carry on deeper and deeper and deeper until there was nothing. 

Etho knows better now. He knows, now, the tightness of these alleyways, the deals that are made in the shadows of them, and the worse ones made underground. He knows how much space he takes up, and how much he needs, and that he’s bound to brush against a stranger’s shoulders more often than not. He also knows the tight muscles behind the smile on the parchment portrait plastered on every free surface in the kingdom. But most of all, Etho now knows that all oceans end somewhere.

“There’s seven of them!” The young prince splays out a large book of maps, the edges of the paper worn yellow with use and age. His small hands trace the outlines of the continent and over the names of oceans that Etho can’t read. He hasn’t been taught yet. 

Etho hooks his chin on the table's edge and frowns at the book. How impossible it all seems. “But where does all the water go?” 

“It’s like a soup bowl,” Tango says, cupping his hands over the pages. “Because of the way the ground is shaped, it can hold all that water! And it just goes on and on for miles! You need to ride a big ship to go over it all. My papa says he’s sailed over at least three of the oceans!”

The thought is scary, a place so far and vast. Endless, it sounded. “Are they really that big?”

Tango smiles at him and it’s so certain that it manages to melt some of Etho’s worries away. “Well, it doesn’t go on forever and ever. You’ll hit land eventually, no matter what direction you go. There’s always a new place to go, and new people to meet. Isn’t that so cool?” 

Etho adjusts the fur-lined hood around his head, shielding his face from guards standing post outside of a leather shop on his way up the cobblestone path. Best not to be caught reminiscing in a place like this: a place meant for hiding. Etho’s not welcome here. He hasn’t been for quite some time. But there’s unfinished business for him to take care of before he goes on his way.

The fanfare carves a path through the merchant’s district towards the base of the massive hill on which the royal family’s Frost Castle had been erected. At the base of the hill is the chapel, an old building made of worn stone and oxidizing copper. It hasn’t changed much since Etho last sat on its front steps, his feet unable to touch the ground. The chime of the churches' bells draws the crowds to the lush courtyard. Alstroemerias grow on the buses lining the courtyard, great wefts of graying veins clinging to the stone walls. 

The crowd’s so thick around it, Etho can hardly move— not as well as he’d like to. So he steps out of the mass of townspeople and slinks into the alleys. It’s easy to find shortcuts and workarounds in a place like this. The city may have changed some over the years, a new king on its horizon, but its secrets never truly fade. 

Etho finds a narrow passage through an empty tavern just as he’d found it several years ago. There’s a door with a broken hinge hiding a rickety staircase that leads to the roof. The steep roof allows a broad view of the entire church courtyard and front steps. From here, the chapel seems even larger than it ever did on the ground, the steeple puncturing the sky like a great sword cuts through the northern waters’ ice. 

He can’t risk getting any closer than this vantage point; not with wandering eyes that could recognize his snowy hair. So he stays perched, his hood drawn, and eyes heavy in wait. It’s beautiful if Etho blinds himself to the rest of the city and the memories that refuse to die here. Not all good, these memories, but not all bad either. 

“Take me to the library again today?” Etho’s itching to go. He’s taller now and he’s started to make sense of more of the letters. Tango has esteemed tutors to teach him these things, to sit him at a desk and straighten his collar and teach him names of oceans and the histories of men that came before him. And Etho has Tango, who taught what he learned right back to him. 

Only today, Tango lies upside down in bed, his feet propped on the headboard. It’s not very prince-like, from what little Etho learned of princes during his time in the castle. But it’s Tango-like, and to Etho that’s all that matters. 

“We just went yesterday,” Tango argues, a bit tired and worn, as he had said the day before and the day before that. 

He may argue, but he never says no. Today, like every day, Tango pulls himself from his bed and escorts Etho to the royal family’s private library. Fading are the days Tango would sit beside him in chairs that didn’t allow their feet to quite touch the floor yet, ogling over old history texts and ancient atlases. But Tango goes with him anyway, mindlessly stacking books or tossing a small ball back and forth against the wall as his hands grow more restless. 

“What’s this word mean?” Etho asks, showing Tango the open book in his hands. 

Tango squints at the page. “Pitiless,” he reads dutifully, as he always does when Etho stumbles upon a word he has yet to learn. “It means to be cruel or show no pity. Like my dad, for example. He's, like, classically pitiless.”Etho knows better than to agree out loud. Tango’s father is not a man Etho particularly likes, but he keeps a roof over Etho’s head and food in his bowl at the end of a long day of training. Nor does he punish Etho beyond a lash on the wrist when he discovers him studying with Tango in the late hours of the night. Not exactly a just king, as his parents would say. But they also taught him that was an opinion to keep to yourself, lest you wanted an axe through your neck.

The Barbarian King was not known for his kindness. Etho, even as a child, knows as much. Tango, however, is the only person in this castle who treats Etho with a morsel of kindness. It’s hard to imagine how he and the King came from the same branch. 

Etho sets the book in his lap. “You’ll be King too one day, won’t you?” 

Tango turns his toy ball over in his hands, rolling it between his palms like the bakers roll dough for biscuits. “I guess so.” He’s less than thrilled. “Someday. Hopefully far, far away.”

���Will you be like him, when you do?” Etho clutches the book in his hands and remembers the pain that laced through his wrists at the Barbarian King’s hand. The skin had been red for nearly a week after. “Will you become pitiless?” 

Tango’s face crumples at the question. It’s an honest question, but not a harmless one. He lets the ball drop between his feet; Etho watches it bounce and roll away underneath the table they always sat at to study before supper. 

“I don’t want to be,” Tango admits quietly, his all-blue eyes glassy.

Etho turns his gaze to his own boots, worn at the heels as they are and muddied from a long day of training in the muddy courtyard. “What do you want to be?”

“Kind,” Tango says as if he’s had it decided for years and was waiting for someone to ask him the right question. His face softens when he says it, but those tears still fall from his cheeks and into his lap. “I want to be kind.”

As the parade weaves its way through town, led by a band of brass and string instruments, Etho slides from his perch and disappears into the crowd. A disconnected view suddenly feels too clinical, too impersonal. He despises the crowds (and the extravagance of this particular one), but his desire to see things up close is too powerful. Especially as the royal carriage, wedged in the center of street performers and a procession of armed King’s Guard soldiers, approaches the cobblestone entry of the chapel.

It’s heavy and oversized compared to the rest of the parade floats, the wooden fixtures painted ice and blue, like the frozen ocean just north of here. Etho can practically feel the chill of it, several hundred feet away as he slips his way through the crowd. 

Etho follows the madness until he’s among the few lucky civilians who managed to slip into the crowded space of the courtyard. It’s risky, being so close, but what is Etho without a little danger? Besides, he deems his own curiosities worth it for the time being. It’s been years since he’s laid eyes on the little prince. He wants to see if he’s grown into his ears yet. 

Still, he is not without caution. He sticks on the outskirts of the lawn, back pressed against the stone walls and hood obscuring most of his face. The crowd helps him in this regard— remaining hidden— but the importance of such a day only makes the wandering eyes of patrolling guards much more dangerous. 

The music tapers from a roar into a dull static, silencing the crowd just enough for a bard with an extravagant head of bluish hair to stand atop one of the parade’s floats. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he announces the King’s presence, his voice loud and boisterous yet musical in a strange sort of way. Etho pays him no mind. His eyes never leave the doors of the carriage. 

It rattles as the door finally cranes open. Etho holds his breath. He’s not sure what he’s expecting. Years change a man in more ways than one; he knows this better than anyone, perhaps. But the idea of his friend changing is a startling one, a damn near impossible one. Kind, Tango’s voice is all he can hear above the growing roar of the crowd as their new King steps into the daylight. 

He looks the part, adorned with black fleece and furs that pile high around his neck. A golden circlet sits on his hair, the glint of it enough to blind Etho where he stands. His sharp chin, held high and poised, resembles his father’s. There’s a practice to the way he moves, but his uncertainty shows. A prince masquerading in a King’s armor much too big to fit. 

Tango’s always been far too honest for his own good.

The guards carve a path from the carriage toward the entrance of the chapel. It takes four men to pull open the oversized, grand wooden doors. Tango allows the guards to take the lead. He gazes out upon the courtyard, upon his people. His smile is small and forced; the burden he carries is always too heavy. Etho can feel it from here. 

Through it all, there’s a single and brief moment. Maybe Etho only imagines it; he can’t be too sure. But Tango takes his time scanning the crowd, studying the faces of the people who will, in a few hours' time, become his subjects. And for that one selfish second, Etho thinks Tango’s icy eyes meet his own. 

“Why won’t you agree to fight?” Tango asks, cornering him in his quarters with fury in those eyes. Fury he knows Tango hates because it makes him look too much like what he is— a barbarian. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Etho says. The words catch in his throat. He feels like choking on them. It’d be easier than this: Tango’s anger. It’s not the first time he’s faced it, but it doesn’t get easier with each passing time. They’re older now, too. Tango’s words hold far too much weight. 

But they’re still just two boys. A prince nearing his time as a reluctant King. A nobody who is equally afraid but cannot show it. 

Tango’s hands fly in the air in exasperated surrender. “Then help me to. You know what they’re going to do to you if you refuse, don’t you?”

One night. Etho’s been gifted that much time to consider his invitation: shackles disguised as an extended hand, masked in promises of glory and a new suit of armor. He’s been asked to fight for the King in the upcoming war. A place in the King’s Guard as a respected soldier. But that’s not Etho; it’s never been Etho. Had they been children still, maybe Tango would remember that. 

“I know quite well what your father will do to me if I refuse.” It’s cruel to choose such wording; Etho knows. Maybe it’s Tango’s fault for arming him with these weapons. “You know what he did to my family. What he’s done to me. I can’t do it.” 

“He’ll kill you,” Tango pleads, as if somehow Etho hasn’t realized his own fate. “He’ll call you a deserter, a traitor. A private lynch if he’s feeling merciful. A public execution otherwise. I can’t watch him do that to you. I can’t bear it.” 

“Don’t beg me to stay.” It’s the closest he’ll ever come to asking Tango for anything outside of sneaky trips to the library in the dead of the night. 

Tango’s face is as telling as any open book on the tables of those libraries. Tango taught him to read the words on the pages just as he unwittingly taught the cartography of his face: the vulnerable crease in his brow, the crooked downturn of his lips. His face is as kind as it is devastated. 

“I won’t beg,” Tango says. “But that does not mean I’m going to let you die either.”

The coronation passes as the sun carves a path through the sky. Two hours, by Etho’s count. He sits idle for a while, eavesdropping on the idle chattering of the crowd around him. Public opinion seems nervous, about the new King, the new era, and the future of their beloved Kingdom. 

Etho can only sit and listen to their doubts for so long. The coronation must be nearly over, so he makes his own path through the crowd. He slips behind market carts lined up outside the chapel (sellers capitalizing off of the hungry and thirsty crowd) and circles around toward the back of the church. King’s Guard members crawl the grounds like an army of fire ants. Their armor makes them easy to spot and avoid, Etho making like a shadow between families walking in tandem and dark corners around buildings. 

Unfortunately, his hair and eyes make him entirely too noticeable for his own liking, even with a hood and cloak. If he stands a chance of making it inside the chapel, he needs to get close and personal. He cracks his knuckles and approaches the back door of the chapel. Two guards stand by the door, their broadswords sheathed on their hips.

Their first mistake. 

Etho approaches them, his chin tilted down so as to hide his face in its entirety. He hobbles to the pair with a fake limp in his left leg and one shaky hand outstretched. “Halt,” the taller of the two orders, hands on the hilt of his sword. 

“I’m sorry. I just need some help.” It’s been a while since Etho pretended to be elderly, so the voice certainly could use some work. But there is no time like the present to shake the rust off, he supposes. His hand trembles when he points to the guards and then once over his shoulder. “My satchel was stolen by some pickpocket!”

“Sorry, sir, but we’re not able to help you,” the other guard says, though his voice is uncertain. Etho can hear the way he glances at the other guard for approval. “You better be on your way. This is a restricted area.” 

“Oh, that’s a shame.” He stares at their hands from beneath the safety of his hood. The first guard removes his hand from his sword hilt. The second mistake. 

Etho makes quick work of them. He’s no stranger to fighting, and he’s taken on far worse than trained members of the King’s Guard. The thing about royal soldiers is this: they pretend they have a certain kind of class and dignity. In the streets or fighting rings, there’s no room for such petty things. Pulling hair, breaking noses, cracking teeth; everything is fair game. There’s no room for grace or honor or justice. Only the game. This is something the King’s Guard has yet to understand. They’ve never really had to fight and dig their fingernails in the dirt.

After the fight, he knocks them unconscious with their own swords. But he doesn’t succeed unscathed. One of them knocked his elbow right against Etho’s right eye, the skin there already starting to bruise, red seeping into the white of his eye. It certainly hurt, being hit upside the head with a sheet of metal. But he quickly clears the stars from his eyes and begins prying the armor off their unconscious bodies. 

Etho kneels before Tango’s father. All eyes are on him; something that has not happened since he was a child, unruly and needing to be tamed. He stares at the marble flooring, and studies the patterns in it, lest he goes insane at the mercy of the royal court’s curious gazes. Worst of all, Tango sits among them, just behind his father with his face a terrible shade of white that reminds Etho of nothing but death. 

It won’t be Tango’s death that is secured tonight. But it nauseates Etho all the same. He’s made his decision. Now all that’s left is to lie with it, let it bury him with dignity. He likes to think his parents would be proud. 

“Your decision, child?” The Barbarian King asks from his place upon his ice throne. 

Etho pretends to debate it. Small mercies not for himself, but for Tango. The prince with a bleeding, tender heart. The best of them all. Etho’s only regret will be not being there to see how he becomes what he’s never wanted. A King.

“I won’t fight.” Etho gives himself the dignity of raising his head when he says it. He’ll look the King in the eye when he signs his own death sentence because he isn’t a coward. And he refuses to be remembered as one. “You’ll have to find another mercenary.” 

The Barbarian King’s eyebrow twitches (the same way Tango does when he’s perplexed), and his knuckles turn white from his grip on the arms of his cold throne. “Think about this very carefully, you pest. I’ve all but raised you from the dirt. I fed you, put clothes on your back, and trained you. You would be nothing had it not been for this kingdom. Does that debt mean nothing to you?”Etho looks past the King’s shoulder to Tango. Tango stares right back, eyes red-rimmed and brimming with tears. There’s a small part of him that believes Etho will change his mind. The same part that giggled and smiled with Etho as they hid beneath the tables reading ghost stories and mythology tales. The same part that started to die, little by little like a candle running out of wax, as the burdens of his bloodline began to grow too heavy. 

“It means nothing,” Etho says, returning his gaze to the King. “We never asked for your help. Our debt was forced upon us. I will not fight for you.”With that, the King sits back. Etho remembers thinking as a child he was always so big. Impossibly so, like a mountain from Tango’s atlases that he claimed no man could ever overcome. How silly that seems now. A few words are all it takes, really.

“Very well.” The King speaks with the finality of a rope around Etho’s neck. “To defy the crown’s call for arms is an official act of treason. Without a trial, you are to be sentenced to public execution in the square. Tomorrow morning. Guards.”

The guards blocking the door come forward. They’re men Etho knows well. Men that trained him, men that picked him up from the dirt when he was too weak to carry a sword or pull back the string of a longbow. He feels their sadness in their gentle hands as they pick him up from the floor. He doesn’t fight. There’s no reason for it now. 

Instead, he focuses on Tango. He cries in earnest now, open and unhindered by even his father’s cruel stare. Etho thinks better of trying to comfort him at that moment. Tango won’t listen. All he can do is offer him a smile as he’s escorted from the throne room, heavy stone shackles around his wrists and the title traitor nailed to his chest. 

He finds Tango alone. In the back of the chapel, in a type of confessional suit with the middle partition taken down in the name of saving space for the King. The sallet covers Etho’s hair and eyes, and the golden broach on his chest is a strange mockery of a life he could have led. 

Tango turns upon hearing the door shut behind Etho. His eyes are tired and wet. A familiar sight. “Leave me,” the new King demands, lacking the bite his father always had. 

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” Etho says, no longer disguising his voice. He pulls the sallet from his head and allows his hair to fall in his face. 

“You…” Tango’s eyes widen with the relief of sighting an old friend. Or the disbelief of seeing a ghost. “ Is that— Etho? What are you doing here?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see a friendly face.” Etho leans against the doorway, head tilted to the side. This day, again, was always an inevitability— a throne separating them and the crown atop Tango’s head. Though he always imagined it a bit differently, when he was young and innocent. Etho at his side, maybe, wearing a set of armor that actually belonged to him. 

It had been nothing but a child’s fantasy. One built upon his own naivety. Etho knows this now, nor does he grieve the opportunity missed. But he had grieved for his friend— the only one he’s ever had— and he’s grieved for Tango and what he’s been forced to become. 

Tango was always too gentle for a crown; they both know it well. 

Tango smiles sadly— the same smile he gave Etho that day in the library. I want to be kind, he had said. Back then, Etho hadn’t known what to say. Or how to comfort. It seems neither of them has changed. Not where it mattered. It’s a comforting realization. 

He pulls Etho in for a hug without warning; Etho lets him. He rests his chin on Tango’s shoulder and wraps his arms around his old friend. A brother, he may have called Tango several years ago. He’s not sure brotherhood is something you can wash from yourself like blood from your knuckles. Nor does he know if it’s something that strains with distance, something lost if not reminded constantly of how strong it had once been. 

Because returning to Tango’s arms feels a lot like coming home. For a moment, Etho can pretend nothing’s changed, even though he’s wearing stolen armor and has his arms around the officially crowned Frost King. Tango never wanted this. They both know it. But there’s nothing either of them can do about it. Defeat tastes the same in Etho’s mouth as blood.

Tango pulls him back and holds him at arm’s length. His smile never fades. “You look like death,” he laughs. 

Etho reaches up to prod at the bruise around his right eye. It’s tender to the touch, and he imagines it’s rather unsightly. “I’ve certainly looked worse,” Etho says with a quiet chuckle. “I had to take out two of your guards in the back. Sorry.” 

“Please. They’re still my father’s men more than anything.” Tango scoffs, taking in Etho’s face. The bruise is not the worst of Etho’s changes. There’s a new addition Tango hasn’t seen before, the scar through his left eye, puckered and pink. There’s a story behind it, but now isn’t the time for such things. Tango understands this so he doesn’t ask about it. Their time now is precious.

“You’re a fool for coming here,” Tango says but his tone suggests he believes anything but. “If someone were to recognize you—” 

“There’s still a bounty on my head?” Etho teases with a tilt of his head. “You’re the King now, aren’t you?” “Hey,” Tango admonishes but his smile remains contagious. “It’s not like I expected you to ever come back. It’s not like you had anything to come back for.”

“I didn’t?” Etho challenges, his own smile faltering. He can’t blame Tango for believing otherwise. Etho had thrown everything away with a few simple words for his own pride. For his own freedom. 

Tango falters, staring at Etho with wide eyes. It’s like they're in the library again, studying under the dull light of a nearby oil lamp. Tango’s knees are knobby and Etho still can’t make out half the words in front of him. Everything feels simple because things are simple yet. Neither of them carries the weight of the world on their shoulders; instead, it’s spread out in front of them. Ripe for harvest, for exploration. 

“Will you stay?” Tango asks with a hand resting on Etho’s armored shoulder. But he already knows the answer. 

Etho shakes his head. “You know I can’t. Not for long anyway.”

“So why come all this way?” Tango’s tone is one of defeat. It’s strange how small he makes himself seem, even adorned with black silks and armor and crowns. He’s suddenly drowning in his wardrobe. He averts his eyes to the confessional booth. “Why take the risk?” “When I heard the Frost Kingdom was to crown its new King, I had to come,” Etho says truthfully. He’s never been one for deceiving friends. “I wanted to know if you changed your mind.”

“About what?” Tango turns back to him in surprise. 

Etho looks down at himself. The armor fits snugly in the wrong places, and pinches him in others. He remembers why he never chose this life, why Tango hadn’t been enough to keep him there. Not any fault of Tango’s. No, the matter of Etho’s pride is no one’s concern or fault but his own. But that does not mean that a tiny part of Etho— the childish one who loves library books— wishes it could have been different. 

“About what kind of King you want to be. Do you still want to be kind?” Etho asks. 

Tango’s lips press into a fine line, his eyes level and calculating. It’s the most kinglike Etho’s ever seen him. Like he suddenly fills the holes in his armor with that single look. This, Etho realizes, is where Tango’s strength is. 

“I do,” Tango says. “And it’s not just a want. I will be kind.”

Etho’s smile is one of relief. “Good. It’s a promise, then.” He extends a hand to his old friend.

When Tango accepts it, he grips it tightly. Like he’s afraid Etho will disappear into the shadows if he lets go too soon. Etho doesn’t let go either. Not for a minute or two. They don’t know the next time they will see each other, but this little bit is enough. 

“I can work on getting your bounty cleared,” Tango promises before he releases Etho’s hand. “That way, you can visit whenever you want. No worry about getting arrested.” 

Etho lets go. “Eh, leave it. It’s more fun with a bounty anyway.” “You’re still a troublemaker, I see.” Tango’s hand returns to his side. He rights his posture as if suddenly remembering himself and the crown in his hair. 

With a shrug, Etho says, “I like to keep things interesting.”

The roar of the crowd outside starts to stir again. It’s nearly time for the King to return to the castle in a flurry of joyous celebration. Tango’s saddened smile returns with a vengeance. He’s making peace with saying goodbye. Etho is too, though he keeps it hidden beneath the borrowed chest-plate. 

“Don’t be a ghost to me.” Tango doesn’t leave room for argument. It isn’t a request, it’s an order. From the Frost King. “I will see you again, Etho. Understand?” Etho bows deeply, a hand over his heart. The same way a member of the King’s Guard would swear his loyalty to the King. A promise on the golden medallion engraved in his armor. But the type of promise he makes here is far more potent, deeper than any blood debt. 

“Understood, Your Highness. I will return.” 

“Go on, then. Before you get yourself arrested.” Tango fixes the furs around his collar, preparing to go meet his court and subjects once again before the sun sets and the day ends. This time, when he lifts his chin, he doesn’t resemble his father. He’s just Tango. 

Etho returns the sallet to his head and leaves the way he came. Like a shadow in the crowd, nothing but a speck in a jubilant kingdom. 

“What are you doing here?” Etho asks the damp darkness of the dungeon. For it’s not an empty darkness. Behind the rusting bars is the fearful face of the prince. Tango clutches the bars in his bare hands, his eyes narrowed and certain. 

“I’m getting you out,” Tango says. There’s a soft jingle in the darkness. Metal hitting metal. A keyring in Tango’s hands. “I told you I would not let you die.”Etho sighs and sits from the cool bed of straw in the corner of his cell. The shackles are heavy, designed to prevent him from being able to fight. A problem Etho had been trying to think through before he’d heard Tango’s breath in the darkness. “I don’t need your help. I can escape on your own.”

The keys rattle in the cellar door. The metal screams as it swings open, the cool air flooding into Etho’s cell. He shivers against it, but it seems to only cling to the air around Tango as he steps inside. “Maybe,” the prince relents. “But I’m not willing to risk it. Let’s go.”He kneels at Etho’s side and takes another key to the shackles binding his wrists. The skin there aches, but the cool touch of Tango’s hands hurts far more. He shouldn’t be doing this, risking his own safety and crown for someone like Etho. A nobody. 

Tango tells him there’s a tunnel beneath the kingdom. It wings beneath the city streets and empties by a river bed just outside the kingdom walls. Etho remembers the tunnels, used as an escape route during the Great Wars when Tango’s father had just been a baby. How could he forget such a story? Tango’s the one who read it to him, one of many nights they’d spent in that library. 

At the entrance of the hallway, a void-like maw ahead of them, Tango hands Etho an oil lamp and a pack of rations. They don’t say anything in this exchange. Maybe there’s nothing left to say. Tango can’t plead for him to stay anymore. Etho’s already seen to that. Their nights together, reading, studying, and sparring, are to be buried with the rest of their unwritten history. Nothing but stories and memories to keep to themselves. 

The last thing Tango hands him is a book. An atlas, with pages worn and small enough to fit in his pocket. It’d been Etho’s favorite; the book he’d smuggle into his bunks in the basement and read in the darkness so as to not be caught. 

Etho accepts it with a soft smile. He tucks it away with the rest of the belongings Tango had gifted him. 

Then, he turns to the empty tunnels. The light barely touches the darkness. He’s never been on a ship, but he imagines this is what the oceans feel like at night. Black and abyssal. Endless. It’s a childish fear that sneaks back to the forefront, not because he fears what hides in that darkness, but because he fears what happens after it. If there even is an after. 

[angelasscribbles]

Who Said Anything About Divorce (A Bad Romance AU)

Series: What If

Original Series: Bad Romance

More: Bad Romance One-Shots

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for chapter: Riley x Liam (mostly)

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons

Word Count: 2,475

A/N: @dcbbw asked WHAT IF Bad Romance Liam divorced Riley. I said I don't know if they would ever actually stay apart forever. We talked about it and what follows is what came out.

A/N2: In this version, Liam never offered to tear up the marriage contract (so Riley never agreed to marry him of her own free will), Drake is far more confident about his place in her life (see the Rewrite of Repercussions.) These things combined would leave Liam the one feeling less than confident about his place in her life and continue the toxic dynamic between them that we saw in chapter one of Bad Romance.

My other stuff: Master List.

“God damn it, Riley! The terms of the contract are clear! You will be in my bed tonight!”

“Oh, well, we’ll see about that!”

“What does that even mean?” Liam was beyond frustrated. While Riley generally complied with the terms of the amended contract, there was very little he could do about it when she didn’t.

Noncompliance was grounds to terminate the contract, something he wasn’t prepared to do. Not yet anyway. But all she did was push.

“I have been in our rooms five out the last six nights, Liam!” She stomped her foot. He bit down his lip. He still found her anger arousing.

“The contract clearly says six nights a week, Riley and you weren’t here Monday night.”

“Because I wasn’t home! I was in Portavira dealing with shit and you know it!”

It was a point of contention between them and not for the first time. The contract stated that they would sleep in the same room six nights out of every week anytime they were both under the same roof. The problem arose when she was absent for one or more days out of that week.

Riley insisted she should still be allowed one night per week while she was home to spend the night elsewhere. Elsewhere meaning Drake’s room. Liam was insistent that her nights away from home counted as her night away and the balance should be spent in their shared quarters. Drake had been with her in Portavira, he’d already spent a night with her. This was just her trying to exploit a loophole so she could spend more time with Drake.

Fucking Drake. She already spent almost every day with him. All day, every day, he was there, by her side. As head of her security detail. A valid, socially acceptable reason for him to be there. It rankled. Liam had tried to talk Riley out of making him head of the queen’s guard, but of fucking course she hadn’t listened.

She’d tricked him in the negotiations. He had stalled at the provision allowing her to have full control over her own staff, but even in their argument, she’d never mentioned Drake’s name and he hadn’t seen it coming.

“I have control over my own staff.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if I want to hire Maxwell Beaumont as an advisor, I can. You won’t interfere with decisions that pertain to my personal staff.”

“Riley,” his voice was tight, “You ask too much, you go too far.”

“Agree to all of it and I’ll pick a wedding date.”

She’d known that was one of his biggest sticking points. She’d also known that throwing out the offer of a wedding date would break his resolve. Because as much as he had hated the idea of Max having twenty-four seven access to her, he’d never seen Max as a real threat and was willing to tolerate it in exchange for getting an actual date locked in. So, he had crumbled, like she’d known he would.

She had known damn good and well that if he’d had an inkling about her plans for Drake, he would have never agreed to that stipulation. And the only reason he hadn’t thought it through was that he’d been distracted worrying about the wrong man. She’d done it on purpose, he knew it. She’d thrown Max out there to argue about as a brilliant bit of misdirection.

That was the thing about her. She was ingenious and devious and trying to stay a step ahead of her was almost impossible. It frustrated and annoyed him. It aggravated and enraged him. But it also challenged and excited him in a way that he was sure he shouldn’t like, but he did. It certainly kept life interesting.

A frustrated whine escaped his lips as he pulled his suit jacket on, “I have to go, I have a council meeting in ten minutes. You will be in this room tonight when I get back, or there will be consequences.”

“Ohhh, consequences!” She mocked him.

He clamped his lips together and ignored her.

That evening….

Liam returned to an empty room. He had the palace searched, but she wasn’t in it.

Fifty two miles away, Riley's phone lit up.

He stared at his phone in disbelief.

Fuck this. He was done. This was too much, too far. Did she not realize that he had other options? He could be with literally any woman he wanted.

He only wanted her.

He could divorce her ass and replace her, in a heartbeat. Women would be lining up to take her place.

No one else belonged by his side.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that pooled in the corners. Tears borne of anger and frustration, not sadness. He was angry, he was furious, he would show her what she was missing.

A week later…..

Liam sat reading the afternoon news with glee.

“King Liam escorted socialite Jasmine Dior to the Green Apple Gala. The queen hasn’t been at the palace in a week. Is there trouble in paradise?”

He vibrated with satisfaction as his phone notification dinged.

In the living room at Valtoria, Riley had just smashed a vase and ran all the servants out. She furiously typed into her phone.

All of his good mood had evaporated. She stopped responding to his texts and wouldn’t answer his calls. Fuck. Perhaps Jasmine had been a miscalculation. What the hell was she going to do?

Five days later….

“Your Majesty, is everything ok?” The maid looked terrified.

The king looked up with a glower, “I said get out!”

The woman yelped and ducked as a heavy leaded crystal tumbler whizzed past her head. She ran out of the room. He was in a mood. She warned the rest of the staff to steer clear.

He scrolled angrily through his phone. The headlines were bad enough.

“Queen steps out with young viscount, eight years her junior!”

“Queen spotted out in public with one of Cordonia’s hottest young bachelors.”

“Is Queen Riley smitten with the viscount of Dramerly?”

“Queen Riley was spotted on the arm of Viscount Blake Remington for the third night in a row!”

But the pictures were worse. There far too many of them, they were far too close in most of them. The young viscount looked far too enamored of his wife in all of them.

Weren’t Max and Drake and Rashad enough for her? No, she was punishing him for Jasmine, and he should have seen it coming.

“Fuck! Goddamn it!” He sent everything from the desk tumbling to the floor.

He pulled out his phone and started texting.

Well, fuck. While he was letting her jerk him around over fucking Blake Remington, Drake was solidifying his place by her side. It was the marriage contract negotiations all over again. She had him tied up in knots worrying about the wrong man. Again.

He knew what he had to do.

Two days later….

Drake opened the door at Valtoria to find Liam standing there, hands clasped in front of him, his best diplomatic smile pasted on his face. Drake’s eyes went behind Liam to Bastien, struggling with far more suitcases than one man could possibly carry. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, “What are you doing here?”

“Joining my wife, what does it look like?” Liam pushed past Drake and into the entry hall, “Where is she?”

“I’m not sure she wants to see you.”

“I’m not interested in your opinion, Drake.”

“It’s not an opinion, it’s-“

“Liam!” Max squealed as he threw himself into the king’s arms.

“Max.” Liam felt some of his annoyance leave him as he returned his lover’s embrace. “Where is she?”

“Oh! Come on, I’ll take you!” Max grabbed Liam’s hand and drug him through the estate leaving Drake standing in the entryway shaking his head.

Max ushered Liam into Riley’s study. She looked up from her desk and an expression of victory mingled with a savage satisfaction flashed through her eyes as she regarded him. He noted the slight dimpling at the corners of her mouth that gave away the smile she was repressing, and vindication spooled through him. He had been right. Blake Remington had been a ploy, a strategy to compel him to her side. She wanted a reaction out of him. She liked it when he got jealous and possessive, when he had to remind her of who she belonged to.

“Get out, Max.” Liam didn’t bother to look behind him as he stalked toward the desk, loosening his tie.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but-“

“Shut up.” He said it calmly, quietly, but there was nothing calm about the storm raging in his eyes as he bent, grasped her by the arm and pulled her unceremoniously from her chair.

She tipped her head back with a defiant smirk, “What are you going to do about it if I don’t?”

Without releasing her arm, he spun so that they traded positions. He sat in the chair she had just vacated and pulled her down so that she was laying across his lap. He shoved her short skit up and yanked her panties down, ripping them from her body.

“This.” He told her as he brought his hand down to smack the bare skin of her voluptuous bottom. His erection sprang to life as the thwack reverberated throughout the room and his palm made contact with the smooth, silky skin of her plump, rounded ass.

An outraged yelp issued out of her as a satisfying red blotch spread across her cheeks. He delivered several more quick smacks, her squirming and wriggling only serving to push his desire higher as her body rubbed against him.

He stood abruptly, his arms pulling her up the only thing stopping her from toppling to the floor as she slid out of his lap.  

She whirled on him in fury, delivering a resounding slap to his face. The sharp sting of her palm on his cheek sent white hot desire shooting through him.

Her fists began pummeling his chest. Her face was red, she cursed him soundly. He felt his desire coil even tighter. Her anger still ignited a rapacious hunger in him. Two weeks of absence stoked his need even higher.

He reached for her and jerked her body forward, crashing his lips into hers. She stiffened, the blows raining down on him stopped. He pressed himself closer and she melted into him. The tension left her body, her lips parted allowing his tongue access. A hand tangled in his hair as a leg looped around his waist.  

His hands traveled across her body, fingers pressing into her ass, palms squeezing her breasts, fingers pinching at her nipples. His mouth followed suit, tongue and lips caressing her, gliding over her jaw, her neck, her chest.

He pulled the clothes from her body without regard for the delicate material. Let it rip. He didn’t care.  

When she was naked, he spun her around and bent her over the desk. He unzipped his pants and stroked himself with one hand while the other gathered a handful of her hair. He leaned over, his torso pressing against her back and put his mouth to her ear, “Say please.”

“Fuck you!” She spat at him, but she made no effort to move out from under him.

He tightened his grip on her hair as he teased her entrance, running the tip around the outside of it. “You have to say it.”

One hand curled into a fist and pounded the top of the desk as she pushed herself up toward him with a frustrated whine.

He pulled back.

“Goddamn it! Just fucking do it!” She demanded. “Please!”

That was all it took. He slammed himself into her and set a brutal pace. His fingers slipped between her legs to circle her clit. She couldn’t decide between pressing herself into his hand or pushing herself back to deepen his thrusts.

His fingers twirled and danced at her core until she exploded, hot liquid squirting out and covering his dick.

“Jesus, Riley, fuck!” He followed right behind her. He shoved himself into her as deep as he could go as he erupted inside her, wave after wave of pleasure cresting through him.

As he pulled out and stepped away, she turned and sat up to yell at him, “This doesn’t change a goddamned thing!”

Liam smiled at her as he adjusted things and pulled his zipper up, “Tell yourself whatever you want my queen, you’re mine and we both fucking know it.”

The next few days followed a predictable pattern. She raged at him, she ignored him, she provoked him, she let him throw her up against the wall or over a desk and fuck the attitude out of her.

The staff scattered whenever they were in the same room together, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of their explosive fights.

Max tried to play peacemaker and Drake made snarky comments to throw fuel on the fire.

Finally, even Drake had enough. It wasn’t amusing anymore; it was annoying and disruptive and stupid. “Jesus fucking Christ! Why don’t you two just get the divorce already?”

Liam and Riley froze. Both heads turned to stare at him then back to stare at each other.

“Who said anything about divorce?” Riley asked.

“Yeah, what are you talking about, man?” Liam shot him an annoyed look.

Drake’s head swung back and forth between them, “What am I talking about? The two of you at each other’s throats! All you’ve done since you got here is fucking fight!”

“What’s your point?” Liam asked him disdainfully.

“Both of you have been running around with other people in public, the press is having a fucking field day! You’re destroying your public imagine and for what? You’re not required to stay married. Just get the fucking divorce already!”

“We’re not getting divorced,” Liam scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, that’s not entirely up to you, is it?” Drake rocked back on his heels, hands shoved in his pockets, victory positively radiating off him, “If she wants to be together and work this shit out, what the hell are we all doing here? Riley should be at the palace, but she’s not, is she?”

Riley and Liam locked gazes again. For the space of three heartbeats, no one moved, no one spoke.

“I’ll have the car brought around.” Liam said.

“I’ll go pack my stuff.” She replied.

They both turned to leave the room, Riley heading upstairs to pack, Liam heading out to the front hallway to locate Bastien and have the car brought around.

Drake’s mouth fell open, “But-“

Liam slapped him on the back of the shoulders on his way out, “Thanks, buddy!”

~~~~~~~~~~~

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[slashyrogue]

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[goldenheartgirl1]

Ch.8-When you were this small TWST Mafia AU

(warning tags below)

Another classy party, terrible Hors d’oeuvres, and lethargic music. All the things Lilia didn’t care for on his missions but had to accompany Malleus for this occasion. Normally all assignments that Lilia would be given are for tough customers with dangerous lifestyles, that mostly involve someone getting shot, but Malleus insisted he needed him for this night. The blood red eyes scanned the party guests for his target who was rumored to have a fancy for Malleus, not a big surprise by that sentiment, and he quietly sipped wine from his glass. This evening the shorter man dressed in a white long sleeved shirt with gold cufflinks, paired with a black waistcoat with gold buttons and a lining of white down the flaps of the waistcoat as well, and his pants were a black color striped with a lighter gray. His dress shoes were shined and his new black gloves protected him from leaving fingerprints, around his shoulders rested a royal green coat with cream colored cuffs at the ends of the sleeves, and white roses on the shoulders with a gold clip on the front in the shape of a bat. 

One could say he did enjoy dressing up every now and then, but having to pretend he enjoyed these slow and egocentric parties was a pain. He glanced over to Malleus, who was looking stoic as always to the overly enthusiastic guests, and a small smile crossed his features. He had known Malleus ever since the Dorniger Drache leader was a baby, being five years older and a top assassin also meant that Malleus was his pupil in a way. It always made him chuckle now about how stubborn he was when Malleus’s grandmother told Lilia that he would be training her grandson. He would try every trick in the book to avoid the young master until Malleus found all of Lilia’s secret hiding places in the agency. Eventually he had to give in to his bosses orders and train the young man himself how to be an assassin. At an early age, Lilia was already revered by his peers for being at rank 6 when he was sixteen years old, assassins have to go through a total of 12 ranks in order to be a master and very few get that chance. By the age of twenty-four Lilia had successfully become a master and Malleus had received rank 6 himself, along with that Silver was seven years old when he received rank 1. 

It was hard to get to such a high level rank when Silver was adopted, but Malleus helped the boy tremendously in training while also improving his own skills. Lilia could never appreciate Malleus enough for helping him watch Silver. A gentle chuckle escaped the dual-color haired man as he set the glass down and began walking around, his coat fluttering behind him as he scoped out the people in the party and continued to reminisce. He remembered one particular day when Malleus had been appointed to a mission with him, it was a cold winter day in December and Lilia was at the age of sixteen and this was the first mission that Malleus would attend, who was eleven years old at the time. They were on a mission in Pyroxene to subtly kill a famous art gallery owner who loved to sell art on the side to other wealthy people, something that violated his rights and the rights of the artists. Being so young they could only do so much to get into the party, guided in by someone who swiped them VIP passes and then forced to find the man and get rid of him.

“Alright, Malleus you get to lure him to me, I’ll wait behind the curtain display.” Lilia spoke quietly, motioning to the curtains that covered the entrance to the employees area.

Malleus’s eyes narrowed slightly and asked in a very pointed tone. “Why don’t you get him and I will dispose of him?”

“Because I outrank you and your grandmother will be very mad if I put you in danger.” Lilia replied with an aggressive growl. “Just lure him over saying you dropped something and wanted to be a good boy and not cross the “do not enter” sign, okay?”

The boy let out a low grumble of his own before walking off, Lilia only smirked as he walked past the curtains and waited patiently for Malleus to return. A few minutes passed and the teen’s anxiety only grew since he could not hear the young man approaching at all, or the gallery owner for that matter, but the calm chatter through the building suddenly broke out into screams. A loud crash made Lilia look out the curtains, but screams of the guests made him speed out to find Malleus. In the center of the gallery one of the artistic light structures made of glass had fallen onto the owner, blood pooling in the center of the room along with the dead body, Lilia’s eyes quickly noticed the small body running along the catwalks of the gallery building. Letting out a frustrated groan the assassin quickly found the service entrance and ran up the stairs, catching Malleus halfway up and grabbing him roughly by the shoulders.

“Malleus! Do you realize this is supposed to be an “inconspicuous” kill?! Why did you kill him in a hall of rich people and security guards?”

“Either way you look at it, his body would have been found and reported, my grandmother said his death would bring out the other cowards who sell art on the black market.”

“He was supposed to go missing! That was the message!”

The voices of security guards snapped Lilia’s attention away from Malleus, but grabbed onto the boy’s arm tightly as he ran up the stairs and to the door leading to the roof. Lilia took out a hairpin and carefully picked the lock while Malleus stood watch, once the door was opened they sped upstairs and looked for a service ladder or a safe way down. All the while Lilia’s blood boiled angrily. “I still cannot believe you did something so careless without even trying to tell me.”

“You would have stopped me-”

“For good reason! Rule number two is, never be found out and number three is, never leave your partner in the dark!”

“But number one says to never be caught, where number five is if you have an opportunity to dispose of your target do not hesitate.” Malleus argued angrily, his vibrant green eyes scanning the side of the building. “There’s no way down from here, why did you lead us-”

“I have it covered.” Lilia cut him off, taking out special gloves from his pockets that had small sharp cleats on the palm and fingers. “You’re going to get on my back and I’ll scale down.”

“Are you sure you can carry the both of us?”

“I’ve carried far heavier, kid. Don’t make me sound so frail.”

Malleus huffed and waited for Lilia to bend down before climbing onto his back, wrapping his arms around tightly and propping his head on Lilia’s right shoulder. Behind them a few angry shouts called out and Lilia pulled his hood up before leaping off the side of the building, his palms collided loudly with the building next door and slowed their descent greatly. There were police sirens in the distance which made Lilia hurry down the wall and Malleus clung onto him tightly, after his feet touched the ground there was a loud bang and the door on the side of the building was opened with two more guards. The blood red eyes sharpened with an intensity that Malleus had never seen from the teen, the assassin quickly ran down the alleyway passages as the men followed but Lilia was far faster even with the eleven year old on his back. Once he gave the guards the slip with a slide into a small alleyway, Malleus slid off his back and was pushed into the darkest part of the alley.

“Malleus, stay here, I’ll be right back. Do not move an inch, understand?” Lilia ordered, his eyes boring into Malleus and the boy nodded with hesitation.

Lilia walked out then, following after the guards who had passed them and Malleus listened quietly, a few grunts were heard accompanied by two shots from a pistol then everything was soundless. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest as he watched the entrance to his narrow passageway, but soon he eased up when Lilia stepped around the corner. However, in comparison to Lilia’s normal confident attitude, his mentor’s face was twisted in pain which made Malleus run to him. “Lilia? Are you hurt?”

“Y-yeah kid..” Lilia mumbled, then Malleus saw how his left hand was covering his waist and blood was staining his shirt. “Call the agency, I need to sit for a second, tell them it’s a code LOF.”

Malleus did as he was told and used his radio to signal the agency crew on standby, watching his mentor sit in the dirty alleyway as he held his wound. Soon after giving the code, the young boy stepped closer and took off his black coat and pressed it onto Lilia’s wound, causing a painful hiss to escape but gaining a grateful look as well. They sat silently as Lilia focused on his breathing and held the coat to the wound, Malleus stared at his teacher before asking. “Did it hit something vital?”

“Not sure..I’m hoping it just hit an intestine and not the aorta.”

“Lilia..I’m sorry, if I didn’t..I should have spoken with you about my idea..”

“Yes, you should have.” Lilia replied quietly and slowly looked at the boy, surprised to see such a sorrowful expression he tried to make the situation lighter. “Hey, I’m not dying yet, you do not have to cry over me.”

“I’m not crying..” Malleus replied stubbornly. “My grandmother is going to be angry isn’t she?”

“Most likely, but the most important thing is getting home alive.” Lilia muttered then slowly petted the boy with his unoccupied hand. “Malleus, you have great potential but you need to remember that we have rules for a reason, if we try to change them suddenly someone is bound to get hurt..what is rule number six?”

“Do not jeopardize the agency..”

“Right..” Lilia nodded and lurched forward as he coughed into his arm, making Malleus panic and help hold pressure to his wound. Soon the coughing slowed down and Lilia continued. “You’re going to make mistakes..I made a few too, and one resulted in the loss of one of our agents because I didn’t listen. That’s kind of why I did not want you to join me, I don’t work well with partners.”

Malleus thought about Lilia’s words carefully, noticing the flex of anguish in those red eyes, he carefully responded. “When I get stronger, I want to be your partner in all your missions.”

Red eyes locked with the strong green ones, surprised at his apprentice's words and chuckling softly. “We’ll have to see, after all you’ll be taking over the agency some day. Which means we will see each other less.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Malleus replied with determination, earning another pet from Lilia.

A few minutes had passed before more of their agents honed in on their location and quickly took them to the van, Malleus however was soon separated when Lilia was taken to the nearest hospital in Pyroxene. Despite the comforting words of agents saying Lilia was strong, protected, and would be taken care of, the boy couldn’t help but worry. His grandmother did indeed get mad after Malleus confessed to what happened, however his punishment was already enough with guilt eating away at him. Lilia looked so peaceful in the hospital, Malleus took whatever time he could to go see his mentor and always brought a new bouquet of flowers, to which the duel-color haired man just smiled and graciously took them. It was only after Lilia’s forced month-long time off that he discovered Silver in an alleyway and brought him home as his son, to which Malleus did his best to help Lilia out when it was possible. 

Malleus kept true to his word though, even over the span of the years the two were almost always together, whenever Lilia was not training others or out on a mission. Now both were at master assassin levels and the agency, and their business had begun to spread to farther reaches of Nirvana’s Steel and beyond. Coming back to reality, Lilia grinned seeing his target downstairs in the ballroom area and strutted up to the man to offer a drink. The target was a man in his mid-40’s who had a habit of gambling good tax dollars from the people, and rumors were that he wanted to talk to Malleus about a potential investment. It was easy for Lilia to charm the man to drink a cocktail he left a dissolvable pill in, but he would need to keep him occupied for another fifteen minutes before the effects took place. 

“I don’t recognize you.” The man commented then asked. “You must be a close friend of Mr. Von-Brein.”

“Oh no, a good friend of another friend.” Lilia brushed off with a smile and added. “I just never imagined an invitation out of the blue. I’ve only just started out in this city.”

“Well someone so young has plenty of time to grow here.” Lilia grimaced internally of the implication that followed. “Although you’re visually stunning, perhaps one of the modeling agencies could use your features.”

“You flatter me, I’m not interested in strangers staring at my figure.” 

“Excuse me.” Both men turned their attention to Malleus, the two very surprised as the tall stoic figure took Lilia’s hand and pulled him closer. “I apologize for interrupting, but I wish to dance with my friend before we retire for the night.”

“O-oh of course Mr. Draconia! But I was hoping to talk to you about an investment plan.”

“I will be returning to another party soon, perhaps you can meet me there.” Malleus replied in a collected manner before bowing to the man and walking with Lilia to the dancefloor as the music switched to a classic ballroom song. “How long do we have?”

“Until his body goes into shock? seven more minutes.” Lilia replied with a smirk and let Malleus lead him by his left hand. “Don’t tell me you were worried about me.”

“No, never about you Lilia, but I prefer if my escort stays in my line of sight.”

“Aww, so you were worried.”

Malleus rolled his eyes at Lilia’s playful remark and led the dance, despite their height difference Lilia never felt small to his boss and occasionally would switch them so he led the dance instead of the taller man. It had only been a couple minutes before Lilia couldn’t help himself and mentioned. “You know, you did not have to attend the party or have me as an escort, I know for a fact you could have handled the target by yourself.”

“This is true, but I was hoping we would have a chance to relax.”

“Relax? Malleus, my friend, we are at a party surrounded by arrogant, ingrates. I find it more relaxing being at home or at my desk.”

“That is the problem, your definition of relaxing is work or playing video games with your online friends. I don’t believe you’ve socialized outside of the agency.”

“Pot, meet kettle.” Lilia cackled and gasped when Malleus spun him. 

“My point is, I believe we both need to socialize more and spend more time outside of work.”

“Ah~ I see. In that case, there is this amazing concert coming up, normally I just stream it on my TV but if you’re offering to pay maybe we can go.”

“Why should I pay?” Malleus huffed stubbornly, getting a playful glint from the blood red eyes. 

“Because it was your suggestion.”

After a brief staring contest the green eyes yielded and Malleus agreed. “Very well, I’ll pay. But you pay for the next activity.”

“Sounds good to me~” Lilia hummed and then commented. “We should probably start heading back now, we’ve got three minutes.”

“Probably for the best.” Malleus agreed and led the way off the dance floor. “You are getting older Lilia, perhaps you should slow down with the missions. I could always assign you more vacation days.”

“Malleus, this agency is all I really am. I do not want to slow down until I physically cannot go faster.” 

“That is what worries me, you refuse to slow down.”

“What do you think will happen to me? Spontaneously combust?” Lilia joked as he walked outside to their black Porsche, given to them by the agency’s mechanic engineer. 

“You always have surprises up your sleeves, Lilia.” Malleus replied fondly and opened the passenger door for his companion, helping him in before going to the driver's side.

Lilia took this time to take off the coat and remove the eyeshadow around his eyes, pouting a bit when Malleus started the car. “Why don’t you let me drive anymore?” 

“Because you always somehow start a car chase when I do let you. Now, stop avoiding the topic, even Silver had expressed his concern when you fell asleep at your desk.”

“I was tired from playing games! Sebek recommended this energy drink to me and said it may improve my gaming skill. Which he was not wrong but I also played the game so long it was sunrise by the time the caffeine left my system.”

“The point still stands,” Malleus replied in a firmer tone. “You cannot function if you are running low on energy.”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m old.” Lilia pouted, looking at Malleus to make sure the man could feel his gaze. “I’m 34 and you’re only five years younger than me.”

“And in your live you sustained 25 broken bones, 32 surgeries for gun injuries, 150-”

“Okay! Look, that just means I’ve had a full life, your grandmother understood that.”

“But you are not just a normal assassin Lilia, you are a father, a dear friend, and far more than that.” 

“Malleus, I’ll agree to hangout with you more but do not try to force me on a vacation or lesser tasks, I have my own pride and responsibility to the agency.”

The car suddenly screeched to a stop and Lilia gagged as his seatbelt yanked him back to his seat and he looked at Malleus with surprise. The young leader’s hands were clenched around the steering wheel and his eyes closed, his face was pinched in a way of frustration and exhaustion which made Lilia frown. “Lilia..I don’t want you to be like my parents..”

A cold shock ran through Lilia’s spine and he quickly understood what Malleus meant, slowly he brushed his hand over one of Malleus’s and took it off the wheel to hold it in his own. “Okay..I understand Malleus, I will try to slow down, can I have two days off a week plus more vacation days?”

“Yes..” The green eyes slowly opened, glistening from tears as he looked at Lilia and held his hand tightly. 

“How about we get back, grab Sebek and Silver, then go to the ice cream shop you like?” Lilia asked with a soft smile, getting Malleus to smile in return.

“That sounds nice, it will be a good way to wrap up the night.”

A buzzing from Lilia’s phone broke the peace and the assassin took out his phone and cackled. “The police found the body~ Heart attack apparently, such a shame for a man of his age.”

Malleus couldn’t stop the chuckle that rang out from his mouth. “Yes, a shame indeed, although it's even more a shame he didn’t get your number.” To this, Lilia’s laugh became boisterous and he let go of Malleus’s hand to wipe away the happy tears in his eyes. 

[isthisaria]

Best fics I've read in 2021

As You Are (139k)

AU. Five years after The X Factor launched his career as a radio host and songwriter, Louis Tomlinson returns as a judge. Falling for a contestant is the last thing he needs. It's also against his contract.

The only reason Harry auditions for The X Factor is because his best mate signed the two of them up as some kind of joke. Harry doesn't get the big deal—not until he's faced with this season's judges and realises that one of them used to be his desperate, impossible teenage crush.

candle wax & polaroids on the hardwood floor (13k)

Clumsy modern witch Louis AU where he accidentally gives his roommate Harry a love potion and he has a crisis because he thinks he will get in trouble with the law for technically poisoning someone and Harry’s heart eyes aren’t helping.

if it kills me (110k)

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

Long Before We Both Thought The Same Thing (36k)

“So are you admitting you love Harry yet?”

Louis pauses in the middle of his story about the movie he and Harry went to see last night to raise an incredulous eyebrow. “What are you on about? Of course I love Harry.”

Has Zayn lost his mind? He’s been friends with Louis for nearly seven years and Harry for six, under what circumstances did it appear like they didn’t love each other?

“Okay, let me rephrase,” Zayn says, an amused little quirk to his mouth like he knows something Louis doesn’t. “Are you admitting you’re in love with Harry yet?”

Louis stares at him in bewilderment, mouth working as he tries to form a response. “I…what?”

*

Or, Louis maybe, sort of realises he's in love with his best friend of almost twenty years and he maybe, sort of thinks that said best friend could love him back? A prequel to If You Asked Me If You Love Him (I'd Lie).

Nothing But You On My Mind (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

Runaway Land (103k)

Louis is sure he’s stumbled upon a secret, underground nightclub, though that is far from the truth. He’s also pretty sure he’s stumbled upon Apollo, which… isn’t very far from the truth, actually.

Modern Greek mythology AU.

The Night Sky is Changing Overhead (124k)

“Um, sorry, but I believe that’s actually mine,” Harry said a bit awkwardly, pointing at the cup.

The man huffed, slightly narrowing his blue eyes, “Nope, large Americano, dash of cream.” He held the coffee up closer to Harry and honestly, Harry knew exactly what was in the cup because it was his coffee.

“Right,” Harry slowly drawled out as if he was talking to a toddler, “Which would make that mine.”

“Look, I really don’t have time for this, I’m running late. And this,” he said before he took a sip from the cup, “Is mine.”

Harry’s jaw dropped and he held his hands out, failing them slightly, “Wha-you can’t just drink it!”

“Well I did, so, do you still want it or can I be on my way?” The man challenged.

Harry shook his head disbelievingly, “Take it, but for the record, it says Harry on it.”

The man turned the cup around and a sharp laugh came out of his mouth, “Well, shit.” He looked at Harry, a smile stretched across his face as crinkles formed next to his eyes. “Thanks, Harry.”

when the city shines (like the sun at night) (37k)

In a different universe, a parallel dimension in which Harry is a braver version of himself, maybe he’d cup the back of Louis’ neck softly and melt their mouths together.

Maybe they’d tread on light feet up to Louis’ room because the house would be empty and they’d just kiss-and-kiss-and-kiss until their lungs burst, and then Harry would press his face into Louis’ neck and whisper I know you’re Blue, and Louis would do the same in turn, breathe that sentiment into Harry’s skin like a relief, and all the bad weight would lift, just the hot pressure of feeling so much remaining.

-

Love, Simon AU.

waiting for the tides to meet (59k)

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

You Smell Like (185k)

For her part, Jay took everything in her stride, barely batting an eyelid when Louis came into the kitchen the night Harry left and said, “I seem to have accidentally become the pack’s Alpha”.

Ever since Harry left town, Louis’ found himself with the role of pack Alpha, despite being human. So he can’t wait to hand over the reins when Harry returns. Except, it’s not quite that simple…

OR The one where Louis is the Alpha’s mate and everyone is aware of it except for Louis and Harry. Go figure!

[genshinluvr]

Masterlist 2

🔞 = Contains Smut, suggestive themes

❗ = Contains triggering content

🫧 = Self-indulgent (will make a separate masterlist for it soon)

🧋 = Author's favorites

🌸 = Requests

✨ = Mini-fics

🧧 = AUs

[All contents listed/linked down below are also posted on my AO3]

Imagines/One-Shots:

• [ Coming Soon ]

-

Series:

- GENSHIN IMPACT -

Not What You'd Expect [Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader] (One-shot series):

Summary of Not What You'd Expect [Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader]: Who knew that getting Isekai'd into Genshin Impact would get you into many situations that you've never thought you'd get yourself into! Whether the situation is life-threatening or just one of those soft and fluffy moments, you don't think you'd want to leave the game any time soon! And it seems like they don't want you to leave any time soon either! So, you might as well enjoy your stay while you're at it!

• Weaseling in (Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Neuvillette x Isekai'd!Reader x Wriothesley) [Published on July 23, 2023] ✨

Summary of "Weaseling in": The men left to grab some food while you stay back and wait for them to return. When they return, they see that you're not alone. The two strangers from Fontaine are chatting you up— only they recognize the two strangers with familiar faces from the last time you got lost in Fontaine.

• Sick Days 2 (Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on July 30, 2023] ✨

Summary of "Sick Days 2": The men are sick, and it's your duty to nurse them back to their healthy selves. Yes, the men are sick— all twenty-seven of them are ill, and you're the only one who's taking care of them. Some of them made it easier for you, but others made it complicated for you. It's a good thing you don't have emetophobia.

• Where I Truly Belong (Various Genshin Men x Villain!Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on August 6, 2023] ❗

Summary of "Where I Truly Belong": Your arrival at Teyvat was sudden and you thought you'd be welcome with open arms and new friendship. However, you were terribly wrong. You were ignored, threatened, and chased out of the regions in Teyvat. One day, on the heart island outside of Liyue, a portal opens and an opportunity is given to you. An opportunity where you have power and control over fate. Perhaps this is where you truly belong.

• Mr. Sweet Talker (Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Lyney x Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on August 20, 2023] ✨

Summary of "Mr. Sweet Talker": Aether and Paimon managed to snag free tickets to the magic show in Fontaine! It's all thanks to a certain famous Fontianian magician. Who knew he could be such a sweet talker?

• Happily Ever After? (Various Princes!Genshin Men x Royal!Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on August 27, 2023] 🧧

Summary of "Happily Ever After?": There was a small kingdom on Teyvat where a king and queen kept their child locked in a tower for over two decades— the public and other kingdoms do not know what this royal Highness looks like, nor do they know much of this person. However, twenty-seven princes set off to free their royal Highness from their high-rise prison. Maybe you will finally get your happily ever after by finally getting your freedom.

• Burning Desire 4 [Al Haitham's Route] (Various Genshin Men x Iskeai'd!Reader, Al Haitham x Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on September 3, 2023] 🔞

Summary of "Burning Desire 4 [Al Haitham's Route]": Awaken from your slumber due to the burning pit in your stomach, you decide to take a shower early morning, hoping it will cool you off. After your shower, you leave your bedroom to see a shirtless Al Haitham reading a book at your desk. You weren't sure why Al Haitham is in your bedroom, but he has his reasons for visiting you.

• Watch the World Burn (Various Genshin Men x Villain!Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on September 17, 2023] ❗

Summary of "Watch the World Burn": [This is part 2 of Where I Truly Belong] Those who have wronged you, chased you out of the region, and ostracized you will all go down with Teyvat. You will watch the world burn as bodies around you fall to the ground one by one.

• Where's the Update? (Genshin Filler Chapter) [April 1, 2024]

Summary of "Where's The Update?": You and the men go and visit the person who writes the script for every project you all do.

• [ Coming Soon ]

- HONKAI STAR RAIL -

Brightest Star in the Universe [Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader] (One-shot series):

Summary of "Brightest Star in the Universe [Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader]": You were thrust into the world of Honkai Star Rail without warning and any recollection of your memory. Blade and Kafka refer to you as the fallen star. You don't know what it means, and you think it sounds ridiculous. After meeting the men from the Honkai Star Rail universe, these men can't help but feel drawn to you. As if there's this invisible line that's pulling them closer to you. Just when you thought your stay in the Honkai Star Rail universe couldn't get any weirder, the universe keeps proving you wrong.

• Anything for the Star (Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on July 22, 2023/July 23, 2023] ✨

Summary of "Anything for the Star": March has a theory that the men would do anything for their precious shining star. However, you thought it was ridiculous. Due to you being skeptical about March's theory, March decides to put it to the test because those men would do anything for the star, right?

• Final Moments (Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on July 30, 2023] ✨, ❗

Summary of "Final Moments": You're somewhere alone, bleeding, and on the verge of death. Everyone is scrambling to reach out to you, but you're not picking up your phone, and no one knows where you are. Not even Nanook knows your whereabouts. You didn't think you could die in a universe you didn't belong to, but you were wrong. At least you were able to hear their voices in your final moments, right?

• Seeing Stars (Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Nanook x Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on August 6, 2023] 🔞

Summary of "Seeing Stars": Your and Nanook's intimate moment was interrupted by your Astral Express traveling companions. Caelus spots a hickey on your neck, you make a poor excuse regarding that hickey, and all of a sudden, you find Nanook balls deep inside you. Needless to say, Nanook is called the Aeon of Destruction for a reason. And that reason isn't because of destroying the universe, but because he's going to be destroying your insides.

• Anything for the Star 2 (Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on August 20, 2023] ✨

Summary of "Anything for the Star 2": After being sandwiched between Gepard and Sampo's chest due to March claiming you wanted to be sandwiched between the two men from Jarilo-VI, you fainted. You soon regained consciousness and now have to deal with the aftermath, and you're also on the hunt for March around the Astral Express.

• Trouble in Paradise (Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on August 27, 2023]

Summary of "Trouble in Paradise": Nanook has always communicated with you through your dreams because both you and Nanook are connected with each other. But now that Nanook has taken a human form, there's no need to communicate through your dreams! You were certain that it was just Nanook who could communicate with you through your dreams until Phantylia showed up.

• To be Reborn (Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Vidyadhara!Isekai'd!Reader) 🧧 [Published on September 3, 2023]

Summary of "To be Reborn": Waking up in Scalegorge Waterscape, you have no recollection of your past life. You are reborn— you are a Vidyadhara— hatched from an egg. A young blond boy awaits your rebirth, the same boy who volunteers to be your protector. Your past life remains a mystery. Your relationship with three particular men remains a mystery as they gaze at you longingly from a distance. Sometimes, it's a curse to be reborn.

• Well, Shit. (Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Toddler!Isekai'd!Reader) [Published on September 17, 2023]

Summary of "Well, Shit.": Well, Shit. This isn't supposed to happen. How did this even happen in the first place? Yanqing was tasked to watch over you while General Jing Yuan and your traveling companions were out on a mission. Who knew it would end up with you turning into a toddler?

• Where Are the Updates? (HSR Filler Chapter) [Published on April 1, 2024]

Summary of "Where Are the Updates?": The person who writes the script for your and the men's future project is visiting the Astral Express. Everyone is wondering what is their future role in the projects (and Sampo is being Sampo)

• [ Coming Soon ]

-

Asks w/ Mini-fics:

• [ Coming Soon ]

[riddlcmcthis]

❓Captain of the Emerald Knave❓ v; pirate

During the Golden Age of Piracy, young Captain Edward “Enigma” Nashton commands the Emerald Knave, plundering the seven seas, outsmarting the Royal Navy at every turn, and making the most of what every port has to offer. He’s a terror of the Caribbean. Always has a riddle up his sleeve clever enough to confound foe and friend alike, as well as a lust for good rum and handsome men. His greatest lust of all, however, has always been for treasure. Gold, jewels, lost artifacts, anything of rare value. He grew up the illegitimate son of a judge and a scullery maid, turning to the sea to distract himself from his father’s abuse and expectations, but took to a ship the first chance he got. At the mere age of twelve, he stowed away on a vessel bound away from London, not caring where exactly they were going or who was manning the ship. A week into the journey, he was discovered and brought to the Captain, a rather notorious pirate. The Captain, being in a rather merciful mood that day, hired him on as a cabin boy and told him that if he could survive the journey to Tortuga, he’d be hired on permanently. The ship, he quickly learned, was named the Emerald Knave, and he loved her dearly with all his heart. He worked hard day and night, earning the Captain’s favor and the crew’s familiarity. By fifteen, he’d proven to have eyes and instincts keen enough for manning the crow’s nest, and by twenty, he’d earned a spot as the Captain’s new first mate after the original left to find his own ship and crew to command. Two years later, the Captain fell in battle, passing his rank and ship to Edward with his dying breath. Vowing not to let down the man who had become a father him over the last decade, Edward rallied his crew and led them to a brilliant and bloody victory. He’s plowed the raging seas ever, since looking for his next adventure and the trove of baubles that might come with it.

(Compatible with most fantasy/royal/pirate AUs, and I can adjust details as necessary~)

[sufandomgirl]

Amphibia Future/Good Andrias AU Fanfiction Part 3

Weeks Later at the Royal Castle...

Andrias: Give it here.

{Andrias took the notes and the small box. He read the old language.}

Hop Pop: What does it say?

Sprig: Anything about Anne?

Andrias: Not specifically, no, it just mentions the three human daughters of Amphibia who expelled the Night. Which was the old name for the Core. (smiles) We only know three human females who have accomplished that.

Grime: (laughs) Ha!

Sprig: What does that mean?

Olivia: Good news?

Melinda: Is she--are they coming back?

Andrias: Well, the passage was written by an ancestor who was disowned for believing in interdimensional peace intead of conquering. Apparently, he always had the backup box and hid it for someone to find who would use it for good. He said that the three human daughters would save us and return one day and and travel peacefully between realms.

Sprig: Whoo! Anne's coming and more Earth adventures!

Leanne: Aunt Anne? You've actually been to Earth?

Sprig: (looks at her) Yeah, Great-Grandpa, Aunt Polly and I were there for a time while we were trying to stop the Core. We stayed with Aunt Anne's parents.

Polly: I bet that Anne's been up to something awesome for the past twenty years.

Yunan: Marcy's probably changed the world for the better by now.

Sprig: So, who goes through and tells them?

Andrias: The box is set for the last coordinates where a portal was opened. Wherever you came back from is where you'll arrive.

Earth, A Few Days Later...

Mr. X: You're lucky that it was us here, Sprig.

Sprig: Always good to see you and Terri, Mr. X, but...?

Mr. X: You're looking for Anne.

Sprig: Well, everyone misses Sasha and Marcy, too, but yeah, Polly and I are looking for Anne. (gestures to Polly) Any idea where she is?

Mr. X: Oh, I know exactly where she is. She may not be able to come to Amphibia though. None of them can. At least...not for a while.

Polly: What? Why?

Mr. X: Well, they moved out of their parents' houses and are out on their own. They have...other responibilities now that require their full attention and care.

Sprig: (raises brow) Like what?

Mr. X: Let's just say that they aren't just responsible for themselves anymore. (winks)

{It took a moment for it to sink in. Sprig was about to ask further questions, but Polly grabbed his shoulder and gave him a look that he--as a father, himself--understood. His eyes went wide.}

Sprig: No way! Anne's a mother now?!

Mr. X: All three of them are. Maybe Sasha and Marcy's kids are old enough to understand, but Anne has an seven and a two-year-old. She...can't drop them off at their granparents' either. Unfortunately none of them have any support from their families for various reasons. They're raising their kids all on their own.

Polly: Poor Anne, Sasha and Marcy.

Sprig: Well now we have to break the news to all the Amphibians who 'adopted' them.

Polly: (laughing) I'm just imagining Grime, Lady Olivia, General Yunan, Melinda and King Andrias as grandparents. Can Marcy and/or Sasha at least meet with us?

Mr. X: As long as you're comfortable with meeting their kids, too. Otherwise, we'd be dumping them on Anne.

Terri: I'll call Sasha. Marcy works in the lab and Sasha works from home with the kids. They're together, by the way. Marcy and Sasha.

Sprig: (blinks) Well, that's a shocker.

{They go back through the portal. It closes.}

Hop Pop: You two are back early.

Sprig: Yeah, X said that they couldn't meet us.

Grime: Why not?!

Polly: Hey, we're gonna meet up, but apparently, they have...other responsibilities.

Yunan: Such as...?

Sprig: Taking care of their kids.

Polly: (sighs) Wow, way to break it to them slowly, Sprig.

Andrias: Well, that's perf--! Wait, did you say KIDS?!?!

Sprig: Yeah, according to X, all three of them are mothers now.

Grime: (opens mouth to speak)

Sprig: Yes, even Sasha, Grime.

Grime: (closes mouth)

Hop Pop: (gasps)

Leanne: A baby Aunt Anne?

Olivia: Wow...I'm sure that any children that Marcy has are very intelligent.

Melinda: They have to be.

Andrias: She has kids?

Sprig: They didn't tell us specifics, but they do have kids.

[butterflyintochains]

Leaving King's Landing

The winner of my poll of ideas for my Desert Dragon AU! Enjoy!

After enduring years of abuse from King Aerys, Princess Shaena Targaryen has finally reached her breaking point, seeking freedom from her father, she leaves King's Landing to move permanently to Dragonstone in 276 AC.

TW: Abuse, injury, some violence, trauma.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's a beautifully sunny and warm day in the Kingswood on the outskirts of King's Landing. Only a very slight breeze rustling through the trees to cool the only Targaryen princess and her archery teacher. It has always been in the back of Shaena's mind, her being the only princess of the blood royal, the only daughter of the ruling family. Rhaegar is eighteen now, and is across the Blackwater on Dragonstone. Her mother has just had another baby, little Viserys is seven moons old now, and seems to be coming on leaps and bounds. Shaena herself is fifteen years old, and suitors have been knocking on the door already, not that she much cares for marriage at the moment. All she cares about is mastering her archery, and not angering her father. Cyrus Adarys, Shaena's Tyroshi archery teacher and sworn protector, leads them to their usual spot for training. He's twenty one, and dyes his hair a strange shade of blue, she would like to know what his hair actually looks like one day, but it's alright if she never does. ''Here we are, princess.'' He dismounts his horse, a black stallion called Midnight, and leashes him to a tree trunk. Shaena nods, and dismounts Syrax - her golden mare, a gift from Lord Tyrell - and leashes her own horse to a tree trunk. Cyrus goes to set up their targets and dummies, Shaena heads into the tent to retrieve her training bow and load her quiver up. Rhaegar insisted she know how to fight for and protect herself, so secured her archery training last year. Their father fought him every step of the way, until the council were able to bring him around, citing Daena the Defiant and Queen Visenya as precedents for her to aspire to. ''Are we ready, Cyrus?'' She asks, eager to get going for today.

Cyrus chuckles, and picks up his own bow. ''I'd say we are, yes, princess.''

Shaena rolls her eyes at the formality, she's told him not to use her title. ''Cyrus, we're not in the Keep, just use my name.'' Cyrus gives her the look again. ''Princess, I am not at liberty to do that, you know I'm not.''

Shaena says, sheathing her dagger into her belt. ''Well, I don't care. I'm royalty too, and I give you the liberty.''

Cyrus laughs, sensing he's lost this particular debate. ''Alright, then, Shaena. Are you ready to get started?''

Shaena nods. ''I am, thank you.''

Cyrus first runs her through some drills, testing how fast she can nock an arrow and draw the string back to make her reflexes faster. Then, they do the reflex training with shooting. Cyrus has Shaena hit targets at differing distances, and some hanging ones as well. ''How are you feeling about mounted Archery, Shaena? Do you feel ready for that yet?''

Shaena thinks for a moment, she's only been at this for a year, and has only built up the strength to draw on her own recently. ''Not yet, Cyrus, is that alright?''

Cyrus assures his princess. ''Of course it is, Shaena, we shall go at your pace, and your pace only. Three bullseyes before we eat, then?'' Shaena nods, and nocks an arrow into her bow, she draws back, feeling something in her arm give out on her. The arrow buries itself in a tree, tears sting the princess' violet eyes. Cyrus removes her quiver, Shaena removes her jacket. There's blood staining her tunic sleeve. She rolls the sleeve up, all of the scars that litter her arm have split open. Cyrus sits her down on a bench, and says. ''Hold on, princess.'' He runs into the tent.

He comes back out with a water flask, a roll of bandages, and a fresh poultice of herbs. ''Here, princess, let me.'' He carefully cleans the scars, and wraps the bandage around her forearm, he hands her the poultice. ''Hold this to your arm, it should take the sting down.'' Shaena does as instructed, tears running down her face. She had hoped he would never see them, that she could keep them a secret for now, but she was clearly naive. He brings out their usual picnic, and they eat in silence until he asks her. ''Where did they come from, Shaena?''

Shaena downs some fruit juice, eating some of her cheese roll one handed. ''I said the wrong thing to my father at the wrong time. He lashed me across the arm in front of the council.''

Cyrus asks her further, as is his duty, to protect her from all harm on top of teaching her to protect herself. ''When was this?'' Shaena puts the poultice back on her arm, the sting going down already. ''A couple of weeks ago.''

Cyrus says, his green eyes boring into her, though Shaena knows he isn't angry with her. No, he's angry, for her. ''Why didn't you tell me of this?''

Shaena cries out, feeling so hopeless against her father and his power in this world. ''What would that have achieved, Cyrus? What could you have possibly done to protect me? He's the king of the seven kingdoms, Cyrus. He's your king, you are in his Red Keep, his coffers pay you.'' Shaena rants to one of her two confidants in this Gods-forsaken city. ''There's nothing anyone can do, look how he treats my muna, his queen, his sister-wife. I'm fair game, so is Rhaegar, and Viserys will be too someday.''

Cyrus shakes his head, hating how his princess seems to burned out from all this, he sees it every fucking day, how that monster treats her, how he talks to his own fucking daughter. ''Be that as it may, Shaena, you are my charge, you are my duty, I need you to tell me these things.''

Shaena furiously dries her eyes on her hand, the redness offsetting her violet irises to make her look like a true dragon. ''I know, Cyrus, and I'm sorry I didn't. I just... didn't know how to.'' After some moments of quiet, Shaena is able to pull her red leather jacket back on, and lace up her vambrace. ''Does the prince know of this? Does her grace?'' Cyrus asks.

Shaena finishes eating, and rises to her feet. ''Yes, I write to Rhaegar every other day, and muna comforts me afterwards. They are powerless as well. Kepa is the dragon, and we all dance to his tune here.''

With that, they tidy up, and return to Midnight and Syrax, riding back to the city. The gate is open, and they ride up the main street to the Red Keep. The castle that was Shaena's home, now it's her prison. One that she longs to leave as soon as possible.

Their horses are sent back to the stables, and they head inside out of the height of the sun. Shaena pulls her gloves off, and loops them into her belt. Cyrus says to Shaena. ''I'm needed in the yard, will you be alright without me, princess?''

Shaena nods, patting the dagger at her hip. ''I'll be fine, Cyrus, have fun with the recruits!'' Cyrus rolls his eyes, gaining a laugh from his princess. Shaena heads up to her quarters, her ears pricking up at soft sobbing behind her door, and two harried voices. She opens her door, and her jaw drops at seeing Aelinor clutching a black eye and Hope and Lyra - her maids - trying to console her. ''What is the meaning of this?'' She demands.

Aelinor says, sniffling. ''It's nothing, Shaena, I promise. I just fell over.'' Shaena simply says, she wasn't born yesterday. ''No, no you didn't. Hope, what's happened while I was away?''

Hope temporarily dispenses of the curtsy she usually must do. ''His grace, he came in here demanding to know where you were. Lady Aelinor told him you were training, and he... did this.'' Her father assaulted his own admiral's daughter. Are there no depths to which he will not sink? Shaena cradles her best friend's face in her hands. ''Lyra, grab me a poultice from my cupboard, please. Hope, send for some ice, tell them it's for me.'' Her maids spring into action, Aelinor says, tears falling from her turquoise eyes. ''I'm sorry, Shaena.'' Shaena assures her friend. ''Don't be, cousin, all this does it make things clear to me.''

Aelinor asks, still sniffling. ''About what?''

Shaena says, simply stating the truth. ''That we need to leave this fucking city, and soon.'' The poultice and ice arrive, Shaena instructs Aelinor to alternate placing them on her eye to reduce the horrible swelling. ''Where will we go?''

Shaena simply answers, throwing her jacket onto her chair by the windows. ''Dragonstone, we'll be safe with my brother.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This sets Shaena into motion, she's up at first light the following morning, and dressed into a simple red day gown. She brushes her silver hair out, and braids it down her shoulder. She pulls some ankle high boots on, and leaves her chambers for the training yard. No one is there yet, the Kingsguard train in the evenings, the City Guard train after breakfast, and everyone else works around them. Cyrus probably isn't even up yet for his morning session before breakfast. She goes into the weapon storage area, in search of some things for Aelinor and their combined three maids, Rose will also be coming with them. Cyrus will have his sword and bow, as well as his dagger. Shaena has her dagger, and she grabs a yew bow with a spare quiver and arrows. She spots a rack of rapiers, and grabs one with a knife for Aelinor. She also grabs some daggers for Lyra, Hope, and Rose. All weapons go into a bag she finds, and she rushes back to her rooms, stashing the gear under her bed. A knock comes at her door. ''Come in.'' She says.

Maester Pycelle enters, two letters for her in his hand, one stamped with a red seal, the other with an orange seal. ''Oh, good morning, princess. These came for you just now, from Dragonstone and Sunspear.''

Shaena gingerly takes the letters, and politely says. ''Good morning to you as well, Maester Pycelle. Thank you for the letters.'' She waits for him to leave, and opens Rhaegar's first.

Dearest sister.

I hope you're well, and your archery is coming along as intended. All is well with us on the island as well, Elias seems to like it here at any rate. We both miss you so very much, and hope we can see you soon. I so wish we could come across the bay to the city, but father scares Elia too much, he's always so horrible to her.

I pray that you, muna, and baby Viserys are all well, and that he isn't making life harder on you three than it needs to be. Particularly for you, it pains me that I can't protect you, but Cyrus is a good man, and I trust him to keep you safe on my behalf.

Some good news as well! Elia and I are trying to have a baby! With luck on our side, she should be with child sooner rather than later. Elia is going to be such a great mama, I'll learn to be a good papa for her and our children.

I love you, dearest Shaena, and I hope you always know that.

Yours in good heart - Rhaegar.

She beams, eyes misty from the prospect of becoming an aunt and having a little niece or nephew to spoil. She does know her brother loves her, she feels it everyday. ''I love you too, Rhaegar.'' The other letter was from Sunspear. she opens that one next, and reads it over breakfast, it's from Oberyn, they became friends at Rhaegar and Elia's wedding, he danced with her all that night. It was wonderful.

Dear Shaena

It's been a while since I wrote to you, and I deeply apologize for that, my brother wanted me to do a tour of Dorne and the Reach for him. Doran hasn't been well lately, but he is making a quick recovery from a flu. Elia told me in her latest letter that you're receiving archery training? I am impressed, and I cannot wait to see you in action soon should you participate in melee. Your teacher is also Tyroshi, isn't he? I hope he's serving you well, from what Rhaegar said in his letter he extensively interviewed him first.

I've been wanting to come north to visit you for a while now, and I hate that I haven't had time. I promise that I will try to get up to the capital before your sixteenth nameday early next year. I hope that your mother is well, and your baby brother grows strong.

I also pray to Mother Rhoyne that your idiot father isn't making life too hard for you, you deserve the world from all those around you after all. I can't wait to see you again, Shaena.

Yours in trust - Oberyn.

She can't fight the flush that comes to her face while reading Oberyn's letter, she still vividly remembers dancing with him that night. And, their private walk in the gardens the following night. He was so kind to her, despite the odd reputation he seems to have built up for himself across the realm. Who knows? Maybe something lies in the future for the two of them. But, would her father approve of two Dornish joining their family? He barely tolerates Elia as it is, the kindest and most caring person in this family. Would her much more capricious younger brother be the rider to break the dragon's back? ''Are you alright, princess?'' Hope asks her, tidying the dishes away.

Shaena snaps from her reverie about the unfairly handsome Dornish prince. ''Mhmm, yes, yes, I'm fine, Hope. Just got a little lost for a moment.''

Hope laughs. ''You and the crown prince are so similar, you know. He gets brooding like that as well.''

Shaena laughs, storing the two letters in her special box. ''I know, sometimes I think Rhaegar and I would be able to daydream for ages if left to our own devices.''

Lyra asks, putting some clean sheets and pillows on the princess' ornate bed. ''What do you have planned for today, princess?'' Shaena looks in her journal. ''I have a visit to a local orphanage before luncheon, and then some studying to do once I'm home. How's Lady Aelinor?''

Hope folds up the old sheets, to be washed and put away. ''Rose said she's still in bed, but the eye is looking much better than it was yesterday thanks to your quick thinking.'' Shaena nods, thankful for her best friend's wellbeing. ''Good, I'm glad of it. My father had no rights to strike her, I don't care what he does to me, but she and my muna are off limits.''

Lyra and Hope share a furtive look, a look Shaena knows all too well now. She's making herself a martyr again, placing herself in harm's way for no reason again. She knows how horrible the habit is, but, for some reason she doesn't know yet, she cannot seem to shake it. Aelinor is her friend, her confidante, and her kin - she must protect her, just as Rhaegar and Cyrus do for her.

That night, Shaena gets back from dining with her mother, and gathers her trunks. She sorts through her things, knowing full well that this isn't a temporary visit, she's leaving for good now. She begins packing up, her rooms on the island will be ready for her, they always are. Her gowns and dresses are first, she'll be living in trousers for the immediate future. Then, her jewels. At midnight, she crashes onto her bed, too tired to continue packing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of slow days pass, a major rain storm coming and going in that time from the Stormlands. Shaena has instructed the maids and Aelinor to begin packing their things, Cyrus is also getting ready to leave with them. He seems more stressed now, the prospect of having to protect four girls who cannot protect themselves until they're on a ship looms large in the princess' retinue. But, Cyrus also seems enticed by the task, telling her stories of his father working for the Archon of Tyrosh when Cyrus was young. His father, the legendary Perion Adarys, single handedly stopped the Archon's six children being killed in their nursery by pirates. ''Aelinor, how are you on your packing?'' Cyrus asks.

Aelinor says. ''Just my bag left, Ser.''

Cyrus corrects the youngest Velaryon again. ''No need to call me that, I'm no knight.''

Shaena says, packing up her bag of essentials for the departure. ''You will be when Rhaegar is king.'' She takes the sack of weapons out from under her bed, and spills the contents. ''Right. Aelinor, the rapier and dagger are yours, the bow and arrows are mine, the other daggers are for the maids.''

Aelinor says, picking the rapier up cautiously. ''Shaena, this is nice and all, but I have no idea how to use this.''

Shaena simply says. ''Stick them with the pointy end.''

The letter confirming their ship to Dragonstone arrives, and is burned immediately. Good, they have safe passage on a royal ship, that's an asset to them at least. Once they're done packing for the day, someone comes to Shaena, and says. ''Princess, your father wishes to see you in the great hall.''

Now? Why now? What has she done this time? Shaena tries to go through her actions from the last few days, trying to remember everything she might or might not have done to anger her father lately. ''Alright, very well. Cyrus, come with me, please?''

Cyrus nods. ''Of course, princess.''

They walk down to the great hall together, the princess with her sworn protector just a pace behind herself. She stations Cyrus just outside the doors, and takes a deep breath, grabbing her still bandaged arm. Her father looks horrible, as if he hasn't slept in days, silver hair ashen and matted, lilac eyes sunken inwards. But, Shaena is well aware of how dangerous he is, more aware than most. She silently makes her way to the throne, and instinctively kneels, knowing the consequences for staying stood. ''You wished to see me, your grace?''

Her father says, voice gravelly. ''Yes, Shaena, I did. I wanted to ask you about your marriage prospects, have you given any thought to the Greyjoy boy yet?''

Ah, yes, her latest suitor. Euron Greyjoy, who is five years older than her, and a whoring pirate, the perfect husband for a Targaryen princess. ''I have, your grace, but...''

Her father snaps. ''But what, Shaena?''

Shaena tries not to flinch, she cannot get worked up right now. ''He's so much older than me, your grace. And, there's his terrible reputation. He'd be a terrible match for someone of my station.'' Aerys cackles, his laugh echoing around the empty hall. ''So? We need to bring the Iron Islands into the fold, lest they rebel again. So what he has a reputation?''

Shaena swallows hard, trying to think of Oberyn, his kind eyes and charming smile, his wonderful sense of humour. ''I know that, your grace, I just don't think it would be a good match for the family. What if he tried to kill you or Rhaegar to put himself on the throne? What then?''

Aerys stands, slowly approaching her, he kneels. He notices the bandages, and grabs her injured arm, squeezing tight. White hot pain shoots up her arm, and it takes all her effort to not scream. ''Do you think of my death often, girl? So you can have that idiot brother of yours as king? That is treason, and well you know it. Do you dream of my death, girl? DO YOU?''

Shaena cries out, burning tears streaming down her cheeks. ''No, no your grace, I don't, I promise. You are my king, you are the dragon.'' Aerys lets her go, and nods. ''Good, you're learning, slowly. Go, get out of my sight.''

Shaena stands, and runs for the doors before he changes his mind. Cyrus escorts her back to her quarters, and treats her bleeding arm again. ''I think we need to go, all of us, before he escalates things.'' Cyrus says, applying new bandages. ''I know, our ship leaves day after tomorrow, I just hope we can hold out one more day.'' Shaena says.

Cyrus tidies up the table. ''So do I, princess.''

That night, Hope readies the princess for bed. Undoing her braids, and brushing her silver hair out after her bath. Hope takes her clothes, and helps her into a soft white nightgown. ''Your arm was acting up again, princess.''

Shaena shrugs. ''I'll be alright.'' She aks her maid. ''Will Syrax be loaded onto the ship?''

Hope nods, before taking her leave for the night. ''Yes, tomorrow afternoon.''

Shaena nods, comforted by that knowledge at least. ''Good, I'm glad. Good night, Hope.''

Hope gives her a kind smile. ''Good night, princess.'' She leaves Shaena to get into bed, the princess throws a window open, and gets into bed. Her arm still stinging, but they've only got one more day left here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her final day is quiet, almost too quiet. She's up early with Aelinor and the maids to finish packing up. Their trunks are sent down to the port to be loaded onto their ship. That takes until luncheon, which Shaena and Aelinor take on her balcony. They sit around the small table and eat while watching the city bustling with life. Dragonstone is going to be far quieter, no great city, just a castle and a small town. But, after all she's been through since her father started hating her, she is so excited for the change in scenery. ''Our final day here, Shaena. Have you written to your brother yet?''

Shaena squeezes her eyes shut, she knew there was something she must have forgotten. ''No, I'll need to do that today.''

After they finish eating, Shaena drafts a quick note to Rhaegar.

Rhaegar,

I'll be arriving on the island in a couple of days. Aelinor, Cyrus, and three maids with me. I can't live in King's Landing anymore, I'm sure you'll know why. I know my rooms will be ready, but can you prepare two more and some staff quarters, please?

I'll see you very soon. I can't wait to be free of our father, he's really gone insane since you left.

Yours in faith - Shaena.

She goes to the rookery to send it off, stamped with her red dragon seal. Finally, the last bit of preparation done. Now, they wait for the wake up call from Cyrus. ''Princess, your mother wants to see you.'' Lyra says.

Shaena goes to see her mother in her quarters, praying she isn't angry with her. ''Muna, Lyra said you wanted to see me?'' She says, anxiously.

Her mother smiles, at least one parent loves her. ''Yes, darling, and there's no need to be scared of me. Come, sit.'' Shaena sits on the chaise with her mother, Viserys in an adjacent crib. ''I've heard you are moving to Dragonstone tomorrow, is that true?''

Shaena nods, fiddling with her fingers. ''Yes, it is, muna. I just... can't stay here with him anymore, not after he assaulted Aelinor. I'm sorry.'' Her mother wraps an arm around her, kissing her on the head. ''I know, darling girl, and I understand.''

Shaena promises her mother. ''I'll write to you all the time, muna, I promise. I just hope you don't feel as if I'm abandoning you.'' Her mother says, smiling kindly. ''You aren't, if anything I've abandoned you.''

Shaena sniffles, and says. ''I love you, muna.'' Her mother embraces her lovingly. ''I love you, darling.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, Shaena is fast asleep, allowing herself some rest before they need to leave at dawn. One final night in her bed before getting on a ship for two days. Her ear pricks up at a rapid knocking on her door, Shaena wakes up, and goes to see what's going on. She opens her door, and says. ''Cyrus, what's going on? Why are you here this late?''

Cyrus says. ''Get dressed, we're leaving now. His grace is shutting the ports as of dawn to prevent our departure.'' Shaena's heart stops, she nods. ''Very well, go wake Aelinor up, and get the maids.''

He sets about his task, and so does she. Shaena removes her nightgown, and pulls on some trousers and a tunic. She laces her boots up, and puts her jacket and gloves on. Next, her dagger belt, quiver, and bow. She grabs her bag, and leaves her chambers one last time. Cyrus meets her with the rest in the corridor. ''Are we ready to go?'' Aelinor asks.

Cyrus nods. ''We're ready, let's go.''

They make their way through the Red Keep, out to the back exit where their carriage is waiting. Shaena hears someone following them, one of Varys' birds no doubt. She nocks an arrow, and aims for the sound. ''You may not leave the Keep, princess.''

Shaena simply fires her arrow, the thud onto the floor is her confirmation of success. They exit the Keep at last, and run down the steps to their carriage. Cyrus thumps the roof. ''Go, now!''

They trundle off down the roads to the port, They're surely being followed by the City Guard now, Shaena can hear the horses behind them. ''We're close, we just need to outpace these bastards.'' Cyrus says. ''Is there anything we can do to fight them off?'' Rose asks.

Shaena says. ''No, we just need to get to the ship. We're almost there.''

Finally, they arrive at the port, and board their ship to Dragonstone. The captain raises the sails, and they're finally on their way out. Shaena looks back at the Red Keep as dawn approaches. ''Goodbye.'' She says to it, and walks to the bow of the ship, in the direction of safety. ''I'm coming, Rhaegar.''

A few hours pass, Aelinor and the maids go below deck for some rest. Shaena stays on deck, unable to relax much, her father could scuttle the fleet to chase them as soon as he learns that they're gone. ''Shaena, go and sleep, I'll keep watch.'' Cyrus says. Shaena nods, and goes below deck to rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In time, they arrive off the coast of Dragonstone. They make landfall, and ride up the main road to the castle. Shaena and Cyrus at the head of the small party, the princess keeping her eyes on the castle as they ride up to it, soon she'll be with her brother. Rhaegar is right there, and nothing can hurt them if he's around, right? They finally come to the black steel gates, which the guards open for them. The stable master comes for their horses, and they go inside on foot. Rhaegar is seated on the obsidian throne, Elia standing next to him. Shaena bursts into tears, Rhaegar rushes to embrace her. ''It's alright, little dragon, it's alright. You're here now, he can't hurt you anymore.''

Shaena sobs into her older brother's shoulder. ''I've missed you so much, Rhaegar.''

Rhaegar presses a kiss to her temple. ''I've missed you too, Shaena.'' He keeps her in his arms, and addresses her retinue. ''Welcome to Dragonstone, everyone.''

Elia kisses her goodsister's cheek, and dries her eyes. ''Welcome home, Shaena.'' She too addresses everyone else. ''Luncheon is in the family solar in an hour.'' Lyra asks, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. ''Even the three of us, your highness?''

Elia nods, and says. ''You've come all this way, you three get to eat with us as well.'' She'll not be debated on this issue, Shaena detects.

After bathing and changing, the princess and her retinue sit down for luncheon with Rhaegar and Elia. Rhaegar notices the bandages, but doesn't press his sister about it. He knows exactly how that happened, his arm matches hers. He also knows how much it must have hurt her. ''How is your archery coming along, Shaena?'' He asks her instead, about something she loves.

Shaena sips her fruit juice. ''Great, Cyrus said I'm making good progress, aren't I, Cyrus?''

Cyrus nods, forking some chicken. ''She is, I've never seen such a natural talent at archery before. Soon, I'd say a dragonbone bow is going to be required.'' Shaena's eyes go wide, she's wanted a proper dragonbone bow for ages now. ''Truly?''

Rhaegar says. ''I think we have Shaena's sixteenth nameday gift figured out, wouldn't you say, sweetheart?''

Elia nods, seeing her goodsister's excited expression. ''I believe we do.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of slow and quiet weeks pass, Shaena helping Rhaegar with governing the island wherever she can. Mostly, though, he insists that she take things easy, and spend time with Aelinor and keep up her studies and training. So, she does. The Maester tutors herself and Aelinor through their history and literature in the mornings, with lessons in politics, mathematics, and philosophy after luncheon. Cyrus takes her for archery in the evenings, and even begins teaching Aelinor fencing. One night, after training, they go back inside for bed. A month has passed since they left the capital. Aelinor massages her hand, and says. ''I never thought I'd enjoy using a sword so much. That rapier was such a good idea, Shaena.''

Shaena laughs, stretching her fingers out, stiff from the long day. ''I know, it becomes so addictive. My archery lessons are the best thing that's ever happened to me.''

Shaena is readied for bed, and is out as soon as her head hits the pillow. The air here is so much better than in the capital, she can finally take a deep breath after so long of needing to be so careful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, Shaena is up early as usual, she's been an early riser her entire life. She dresses for a walk, and ties her hair up in a ponytail. She quietly slips out of the castle, and goes to walk the cliffs. It's not the most beautiful day, there's a good cloud cover, and a stiff breeze blowing, rain is surely on its way later on in the day. She looks across the Blackwater, half expecting her father to fly in on a secret dragon, half defying him to come here to take her back. The town bustles into life down the slopes. It will always hurt her that it came to this, no child should have to escape their parent. She rolls her sleeve up, and begins to unwrap her bandage, the scars split open again a couple of weeks ago, but they're healed over now. The strip of cloth is in her hand, she lets it go into the wind over the cliff, letting the cool sea breeze and spit of rain cool the angry scars down. With that, she goes inside for breakfast. ''Are you alright, little dragon?'' Rhaegar asks her.

Shaena nods. ''I will be, Rhaegar, someday. Is that alright?''

Rhaegar smiles, holding her hand in his. ''It's better than never, little dragon.''

Shaena eats with her brother, goodsister, protector, and best friend. Before heading to the stables to get Syrax ready for a ride along the beaches. Syrax's hooves churning up the black sands as they come back into the town. ''Good day, princess Shaena.'' Tomas, a local blacksmith says to her.

Shaena gives him a polite nod. ''Good day to you too, Tomas.'' His wife, Loren, surfaces from their cottage. ''How long are you here, princess?''

Shaena says. ''I've moved here permanently. I'm fifteen, it was about time I left the city.''

Tomas asks her, setting his gear up. ''Any wedding bells in the offing, princess?''

Again, for some reason, her mind drifts to Oberyn. Not to Euron, or anyone else her father would have foisted onto her. ''Not quite yet, but you never know.''

She rides back up to the castle, and heads inside before the rain comes. It hits her now, her life is well and truly hers now, no one can control her anymore. Her mother loves her too much, Elia adores her, and Rhaegar would never harm her. She's free now, free to live however she pleases.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three months into her time on Dragonstone, she's relaxing with a book in her chambers, reading about Nymeria and her epic voyage from the Rhoyne to Dorne. She's always held the princess as a personal idol of hers, along with Daena the Defiant and Alysanne The Good. A knock comes at her door, she flips to the next page, and says. ''Come in.''

Maester Osmund enters with a small parcel for her. ''Sorry to interrupt your reading time, princess. This came from Dorne for you.'' Shaena rises from her chaise, and says. ''No need to apologize, Maester Osmund. Thank you very much. Do you know who sent it?'' Shaena asks.

Maester Osmund says. ''Not quite, but you need not worry. Your goodsister seemed pleased to see the Dornish pendant.'' Ah, so Oberyn sent it, that makes sense. Shaena opens it once the maester takes his leave. It's a gorgeous golden bracelet fashioned to resemble a dragon with tiny rubies for eyes. ''Good Gods, Oberyn.'' She puts it on her left wrist, There's a short note with the bracelet.

Shaena,

Elia wrote to me about you moving to Dragonstone, I'm happy you're finally away from that awful father of yours. I'll be coming north to you for your sixteenth nameday early next year, so I hope this can be a reminder of your friend and ally.

Yours in faith - Oberyn.

She laughs, and shakes her head, he never does half-measures does the Red Viper? But, some part of her likes him all the more for that. The bracelet is light on her wrist, and glistens in the sunlight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of weeks pass, and the Dragonstone court have been called to the great hall just after dinner. Aerys has sent some silks for dresses for Shaena and Elia, and some new riding leathers for Rhaegar. Shaena has never seen her brother so furious before, fuck their father, this is a dragon. Elia and Shaena toss the silks in the fire, Rhaegar follows suit with the leathers. ''We will accept no gifts from that monster.'' Rhaegar states.

Shaena says. ''I'd sooner wear a sack than those silks.''

Cyrus asks his princess. ''What if he retaliates?''

Shaena shrugs, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. ''I have my bow, Rhaegar has his sword. Father isn't well. We can take him.'' She knows it's treason, but she doesn't care anymore. He's a monster, always has been, and always will be. ''I can use a spear, too, mama made sure of that.'' Elia adds.

Rhaegar kisses his wife, and hugs his little sister. ''I'm sorry you had to see me angry, ladies, I'll tolerate no threats to you two, or muna if she was here.''

Elias strokes her husband's long silver hair. ''It's alright, love.'' Shaena takes a deep breath in, and lets it out. ''That's fine, Rhaegar. I'm going to go to bed, good night.''

Rhaegar and Elia both say. ''Good night.'' Shaena goes to bed, leaning heavily against her door, heart feeling as if it's going to explode with panic. She's safe, Rhaegar won't hurt her, Aerys is across the bay, she has her bow. She gets ready for bed, and tries to get to sleep, tossing and turning until she wears herself out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five months into her new life, Cyrus finally allows her to practice mounted archery from Syrax's back, and it's a rush for her to be riding into a faux battle against some straw training dummies. She comes to the end of the run, and hits a bullseye to massive applause from her family. Aelinor looks impressed, Elia is beaming at her, Rhaegar has tears in his indigo eyes. Cyrus also looks proud of her, he claps his hands. ''Well done, princess. I'm very impressed. Next week, I'll set up a course around the castle and island for you like we do in Tyrosh for archery exams.''

Shaena is ecstatic, she's finally getting her Tyrosh Trial. ''I'm finally getting my Trial, Cyrus? Really? You think I'm ready?''

Cyrus nods, putting a brotherly hand on her shoulder. ''You're more than ready for it, princess.''

Shaena says. ''I'll not let you down, Cyrus, I promise.'' Cyrus assures her, more a father to her than Aerys ever was. ''I know you won't, princess.''

Rhaegar asks Cyrus. ''Cyrus, won't that make Shaena the youngest in history to sit their Tyrosh Trial?''

Cyrus nods, collecting the princess' arrows. ''Right you are, my prince. She's more than earned it, though.''

Shaena drinks in the praise, not used to it still. But, she trusts Cyrus and Rhaegar's assessment of her. Maybe they can invite muna over to see it? That would be the icing on the cake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following week, Shaena heads back to her rooms after luncheon to change into her riding gear and archery gloves. She braids her silver hair down her shoulder as Daena had it in her portraits. Her trial is in ten minutes, and she tries to still her racing heart so she can be as calm as possible. She slings her quiver onto her shoulder, and grabs her bow. The bell rings, usually for meals, but this time it's for her. She exits her rooms, and runs down to the great hall, where five targets are set up: throne, doors, two at the hearths, and one hanging from the chandelier. She hits bullseyes on each, and runs outside. Where Ser Willas is stationed, he tosses discs of wood up for her to fire at, she gets six, and jogs across the great bridge down to the beach.

Once on the beach, She nails seven training dummies in the head, and three ship sails before running back up the hill to her waiting horse. She runs a target gauntlet on Syrax's back, before moving to a stealth section. Hiding behind walls and hay bales hitting targets while being shot at by the castle archers. ''Almost there, princess, two challenges left!'' Cyrus says to her.

She finds a ladder to the parapets, and climbs it up to the walls. Hitting targets at different heights and distances. She climbs down the next ladder, and runs to the yards, Shooting at armed training dummies stationed in shadows. Finally, a single target she must hit three bullseyes on from ten, twenty five, and fifty paces. She hits it at ten, then at twenty five, and takes her place at fifty. One arrow left, she nocks it, draws back, and fires, hitting her final bullseye. ''Well, I'm proud to say, princess, that you have passed your Trial.'' Cyrus says. Shaena, sore and tired form the exertion, says. ''I did? Truly?'' Cyrus nods, and takes something out of his pocket. ''You have, so, it gives me great pride to present you with this.'' He pins a golden arrowhead badge to her coat, ''The insignia of the Archon's Archers, second division. The steel one is for your second trial next year.''

Shaena beams up at her teacher, her friend. ''Thank you for believing in me, Cyrus.''

Cyrus puts his hands on her shoulders. ''You make it easy, princess.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, still dressed from her trial, she walks the cliffs. Finally feeling like she's beginning to heal from her father's poisonous influence. The miasma he brought into her life is finally beginning to clear out. She's safe with her family, and valued by so many people. She's accomplished something historic without him, and will likely do it again next year without him as well. She doesn't need him anymore. In truth, she likely never did. ''How are you, little dragon?'' Rhaegar asks her, slinging his arm around her shoulders.

Shaena puts her arm around his waist. ''Happy, for the first time in months.'' She says, meaning it for the first time in ages. She's home, and she's happy.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 27: Princess (Royal/medieval AU)

AO3

Prev

The shrill akuma alarm wakes Marinette up the next morning and she sighs, rubbing her head gently before grabbing the bottle of painkillers that Dick had left next to her on the table.

“Don’t leave yet!” A voice calls from the other room. Marinette frowns, but listens, quickly taking a couple painkillers and letting herself wake up. Dick rushes into the room, nearly falling as he slides across the floor in his socks. He rushes over to her and kneels in front of her, staring into her eyes. She frowns.

“What are you doing?” She asks, too tired to try and comprehend what’s wrong with her brother right now.

“Checking your eyes and seeing how bad your concussion is so I know if I need to call Adrien to keep a closer eye on you for this fight.” Dick says, frowning slightly at something he sees. He reaches out and gently pushes a spot on her head and she hisses in pain.

“Hey, ya big jerk, that hurts!” She complains, giving him her best ‘Damian’ glare. He just rolls his eyes.

“This is serious kid, you got seriously injured last night.” Dick reminds her. She purses her lips.

“I know, and I promise I’ll take it easy later, but right now I really need to go.” She pleads. Dick sighs, but nods, standing up.

“Go kick some butterfly butt.” He says with a small grin. Marinette grins back at him, quickly calling her transformations and portaling away to Paris. She blinks in the bright sunlight, trying hard to push away any disorientation she has from the stupid concussion. I can do this, she thinks, glancing around to assess the situation. She frowns at her surroundings. She knew she was technically in Paris, she could see the Eiffel tower and Kaalki never misled her before. Well, not during an attack anyway. But where the giant modern buildings should be, there were small stone buildings with thatch roofs. Glancing around, she also notices a huge, stone castle where her school used to be. That should be fun.

“I am the Dark Knight, and I will not rest until I have Chat Noir and Ladybug’s Miraculous!” A voice shouts out above the rest of the noise. Marinette creeps over and just blinks at the fashion atrocity before her. She was going to slap Hawkmoth twice when she found him. Once, for terrorizing Paris for over a year. And again for the awful wardrobe choices he made. Seriously. And the Dark Knight? Isn’t that name trademarked, or something?

“Hey Bugaboo, what’s the plan?” Chat asks, landing beside her and leaning on his baton. She frowns.

“I don’t actually have one yet. I just got here.” She says, and this time he’s the one confused.

“But you always rush over.” He says, careful not to include anything about Kaalki. You never know who might be listening.

“I’ll explain later. Any idea where the object might be?” She asks, scanning the akuma. It’s power didn’t seem too awful. It had changed most of the structure in Paris, and now it was changing people’s clothes too when they got hit by the orange light. Some citizens were in what Marinette could only assume was the height of fashion during the Renaissance, whereas some citizens were draped in obvious “peasant” outfits. But there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for the difference. Just a difference.

“The satchel looks promising.” Chat says, and Marinette grins, a plan slowly taking hold in her mind. She’d just need two paper clips, a stick of gum and whatever her lucky charm was.

---

“Pound it.” Chat says holding out a fist. Marinette grins, returning the fist bump. “Did you have time to talk? You know, about why you were late?” Chat asks, and Marinette sighs but nods. They both recharge in an alley before swinging to sit on the top of the Eiffel tower.

“I fought an akuma alone, while you were out of town.” She says first, shrugging lightly. “I didn’t think about it, honest. I’d done it a million times before with Monsieur Pigeon. But the Bat got mad.” Marinette says, not wanting to risk calling him her dad while she’s masked in Paris. It just felt like it was asking for trouble.

“Cause you fought alone?” Chat asks, frowning.

“Well, that and I sort of jammed the Zeta tubes so that outsiders can’t come to Paris during an active akuma attack.” She mumbles under her breath, wincing at the noise Chat’s neck makes when he jerks around to stare at her dumbfoundedly.

“That’s insane. How’d you do it?” He asks and she simply grins.

“Spent enough time with Pegasus and Red Robin and Oracle. Add in a tiny bit of luck and boom. I win.” She smirks

“So you were late cause you’re grounded.” Chat says simply, a proud smile on his face as he thinks he cracked the code. Solved the mystery.

“Not quite,” Marinette says with a slight frown.

“Then what?” Chat asks. Marinette lets out a long sigh, glaring at Adrien to let him know she’s not happy about this situation, she does not want to talk to him about this. He’ll just get all worried.

“Well last night I was still benched from patrol because of the whole akuma attack thing but Tikki thought I should be ungrounded so I went out anyway and then the dude that stabbed me a couple months ago found me and the rest of the Batclan didn’t know that I was out so they couldn’t help me and I was all alone and then he knocked me out and I don’t really remember much except I woke up at Nightwing’s apartment and met Starfire and yeah that’s it.” She rambles, shooting him a smile and waving nonchalantly.

“I’m going to wrap you in bubble wrap. No, I’m going to make the Batclan do it.” Chat finally says, pulling out his baton.

“No, don’t! Batman doesn’t know. Neither does Hood or Red Robin. Only Nightwing and Robin know.” She says, swatting the baton out of his hand. The last thing she needed was for him to accidentally call her dad on her. She’d be in so much trouble.

“Geeze Bug.” Chat mutters under his breath, tugging her into a hug. She sighs and hugs him back, taking just a moment to relish being with her friend.

“I’m pretty sure Batman is narrowing down his Hawkmoth suspect list.” She mumbles, and Chat pulls back from her, staring into her face.

“Are you serious?” He asks, the relief on his face clear. Marinette nods, and Chat lets out a long sigh. One that Marinette could feel in her bones, because she was tired too. She also wanted to end this fight. Hopefully her dad would have a suspect soon.

---

Bruce Wayne was the world’s greatest detective. He had solved cases infinitely larger than this one, so he didn’t understand why he couldn’t find a damn lead on Hawkmoth. Actually, he understood perfectly. It was magic. God he hates magic. It’s unpredictable, and most of the time it’s more trouble than it’s worth. He sighs and sends a quick text to Dick, double checking that Marinette had made it back to his apartment okay. He knew his daughter was...upset with him for benching her and demanding she take someone with her to Paris. But they were all precautions, just to guarantee that nothing worse happened to her. She wasn’t invincible, no matter how much she seemed to think she was. He frowns at the text he receives back, quickly hitting call and waiting a few moments for Dick to pick up.

“Hel-”

“What do you mean she’s not at your place?” Bruce asks, not giving his eldest son a chance to talk.

“Well hi to you too, B.” Dick teases, and Bruce just knows he’s grinning. He lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Is she really not there? The akuma attack ended nearly twenty minutes ago and she’s not here either.” Bruce says, trying to think of where else she would go. Jason was even at the Manor, and hadn’t heard from her either.

“No, B, she’s not-” Dick pauses, then lets out a long sigh. “It’s B. He was wondering where you were.” He hears Dick say, and Bruce is surprised to hear his son’s tone. It was less carefree and more...like a father. He was a father, with Mar’i, but it was still odd to hear him use the tone on someone besides his granddaughter.

“I had to talk to Adrien.” He can barely hear her say and Bruce lets out a frustrated huff. Of course she was with the Agreste boy again. Honestly, he seemed nice enough until Selina pointed out the crushes that the two had on each other. Now, Bruce wanted nothing more than to lock him away. Far away.

“Can you please ask her if she’s coming home tonight?” Bruce finally says, listening to the silence on the other end. He wonders if they’d put the phone on mute or if Marinette was signing furiously the way he’d seen her do over a video call with Cass earlier in the week.

“We’re all coming. See you at dinner.” Dick says, hanging up almost fast enough for Bruce to not hear the protest from Marinette. Almost. Bruce walks to find Alfred, trying not to let the fact that his daughter doesn’t want to see him again get to him.

---

Marinette glares at her oldest brother as they walk into the manor. He just grins, acting as if he hadn’t practically forced her home. It’s not that she didn’t want to come home, but she knew she had a couple bruises and a lump on her head. She also knew that Damian was apparently barely holding himself back from hunting down Slade. She really didn’t need Tikki giving him any ideas.

“Welcome home, Miss Marinette. Would you like me to look at your injuries?” Alfred asks immediately walking towards her as he walks into the room. Marinette glances around, hoping her dad isn’t around before sighing.

“No thank you Alfred, I’m fine.” She reassures him, or she tries to. His face doesn’t look like he believes her.

“Yes, I’m certain a concussion is nothing to worry about. Especially since you’ve had so many.” He drawls, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Hey, whoa. You said this was your first concussion.” Dick says after urging Mar’i to fly off and find Jason or Damian or Tim. Marinette huffs.

“It is.” She says, crossing her arms.

“The concussions you sustain in the suit still count. Head injuries are not an exact science. Nor are they an exact magic cure, either. They often heal at an accelerated speed, but can still have long-lasting effects.” Alfred says and Marinette blinks. That was almost- Almost- information about the Miraculous. And only someone who knew about the Miraculous would know about the whole head injury thing. She blinks at him for a moment, running possibilities through her head. She sighs, realizing that if Alfred had been a holder, it was definitely for a Miraculous she didn’t have. She could just...feel it.

“I promise I’m fine, and if I start feeling any of those other concussion symptoms, I’ll come to you.” Marinette promises.

“And how did you get a concussion?” Her dad asks, practically materializing out of nowhere.

“Akuma attack. Miraculous cure can’t do a complete heal with concussions, it’s too, uh, dangerous. Not exact.” Marinette lies, trying hard not to do any of her tells. She doesn’t tense up, she doesn’t grin, she doesn’t look at someone else and giggle, nothing. She lies with a straight face, which honestly almost scares her more than getting yelled at by her dad. He just hums before nodding at her.

“Will you be staying here tonight? Most of us have patrol, but afterwards Tim suggested that we all watch a movie together.” Her dad says and Marinette tries hard to suppress her grin. There’s no way.

“Wow Tim, you really wanna have a full-family movie night?” She calls out, grinning at the surprised look on her brother’s face. Because of course her dad was the one to set it up, but of course he didn’t want anyone to know. “I think that’s super cool Tim. As long as we can watch some Disney princess movies.” She adds, laughing as Mar’i comes flying around the corner with wide eyes.

“Did someone say princess?” She squeals, flying straight into Marinette’s arms. Marinette grins at her niece and nods.

“Oh yes. Timmy has decided we’re gonna watch Disney princess movies as a family all night long!” She says, laughing as her niece cheers. She glances at her Dad and tries hard to hold back the snort that wants to come out at his exasperated look. Looks like it’s gonna be a Disney night for the Wayne household.

Next

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