#two elves and a princess walk into the bedroom.... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ichorai · 3 years

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cellmates ; five ; j.wy

pairing ; jung wooyoung x reader

summary ; stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?

themes ; fantasy, angst, slowburn, action, adventure, medieval, pirates, magic, elves, mermaids, royalty

words ; 8.9k

warnings / includes ; character death, blood and grime and injury and everything in between, reader being tied/chained up :(, vulgar cursing, crying, rowdy pirates, "keep the love interests away from each other" trope <3, ✨pure confusion✨, me torturing my characters once again yikes, ateez cameos !!, cellmates to (future) lovers !!

a/n ; uhm. hi. first off, i apologize for taking so long with this series KWHJKSDFK and second, i am also so sorry for what you're about to read o.0 this one's a real angsty part folks :') i swear i swear it gets better don't be too upset :(( i love writing this series so much (it's prob my favorite original story) and im so excited to hear yalls thoughts :D

cellmates masterlist.

a map of this universe is included at the end of the chapter !!!

Cerulean beaches never quite looked like real beaches to you. The sand was as white as snow, the gentle lapping waters so bright they looked to be molten sapphires. It was all far too perfect to be naturally authentic. You were pleased to find that your boots left shallow imprints in the sand, disrupting the once pristine terrain.

Night was creeping upon you once again, and you were in desperate need for a good sleep. You were lucky that Yunho didn’t live very far off, also pleasantly surprised to find that you could even remember the way back (though admittedly, it took a considerable amount of backtracking).

The front of his little cottage was just as you remembered, albeit dark and somewhat dingy. None of the candles or oil lamps were lit and the curtains were drawn. The large expanse of his garden seemed somewhat unmaintained, weeds starting to sprout from between the wilting, once bright flowers.

You knocked against the door thrice, clasping your hands behind your back while you waited. How would Yunho react upon seeing you? What if he blamed you for losing Wooyoung? What if he didn’t believe you? What would you say then? Much like the first time you came to Yunho’s little cottage, tumultuous questions and irrational thoughts churned about in your mind.

It took a long while for you to realize that nobody had answered the door yet. You blinked, mystified, and raised a fist to rap on the wood again. You grew impatient rather quickly, knocks progressively becoming more frequent and hurried.

“Yunho?” You called out after about five minutes of waiting. By then, it was obvious that the man was either not home or avoiding you on purpose. And considering how friendly and sweet the pink-headed giant was the last you saw, you doubted it was the latter. “I’m coming in!”

The door opened in a fluid motion, knocking against the wall behind as you swung it open. You stepped inside tentatively, peering around with widened eyes. It was completely dark inside. So much so that it took you a few minutes for your eyes to properly adjust to the ill-lit hallway. Just as you had remembered, the small living room was to your left and quaint kitchen to your right, the winding staircase situated in the corner. The familiar scent of maple wood was still lingering in the air, although faint and almost imperceptible.

You shut the door behind you and toed off your boots, shuffling into the kitchen.

“Yunho?” Your voice eerily echoed in the empty cottage.

And so you made your way up the staircase, peering into the bedrooms. A heavy feeling gripped at your chest when you glanced into Yunho’s bedroom. That was where you and Wooyoung kissed… you could still remember the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist, his warm breath on the back of your neck. You wondered what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped him. How far would the two of you have gone?

Shaking all thoughts of the past away, you bounded back down the stairs. There was no sign of Yunho at all. Just where could he be? You tried your best comforting yourself; perhaps he had gone out for a walk. Surely he’d be back soon.

Much to your dismay and gradually rising concern, Yunho didn’t show up at all. Not when the sun started to rise again, not when you passed out in sheer exhaustion on a kitchen stool (you couldn’t bring it in yourself to go back up to the bedrooms), and not even when you stirred back into consciousness, the late morning sun glaring at you harshly through the slivers between the curtains.

Your bones cracked and popped as you stood up and arched your back, rolling your stiff neck from side to side. From the pirate ship, you had brought little else than a knapsack full of gold you found in one of the cellars, food that could last you a couple days, water skins, and two sheathed daggers. Everything else on the ship was practically worthless, or too heavy to carry.

With a heavy sigh, you splashed water onto your face using the kitchen tap and patted your sleep-ruffled hair down. The skin around your wrists were still raw and stung when you rinsed away the crusted blood. You wished San had given you that coconut extract lotion; you couldn’t seem to find it anywhere on the ship. Guilt-stricken, you turned off the water and slung the knapsack over your good shoulder.

If Yunho was gone, then where else could you go? It seemed wrong to stay in his home without his knowing.

Air. You just needed air to clear up your mind.

Stepping outside felt like a mistake. Under the bright sunlight, you felt your head throb dully in agitation. The garden looked even more lamentable now than last night, the flowers drooping so far that their browning petals grazed the dry soil beneath. The air felt thick and heavy, and you huffed out several breaths to relax your tense muscles, shutting your eyes in the process.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was so sudden and unexpected, you couldn’t help but shriek, flinching back against the cottage door. You were met with an old man standing just shy of Yunho’s unkempt garden, his gaze confused and somewhat judgemental.

“W-What?” You muttered once regaining your scattered thoughts.

“I said,” the older man shot you an exasperated look. “What are you doing, waiting by that house? Nobody lives there.”

It felt as if cold water was dripping down your spine, and you crossed your arms over your chest, shivering slightly. “But… that can’t be true… Yunho lives here. He’s a, uhm, a baker, I think. This is his house.”

The old man regarded you like someone would look at a madman. There was something in his tone that told you that he wasn’t taking you seriously. “I’m sorry to say this, but nobody’s lived there for years and years. I’ve never heard of a baker named Yunho in this area.”

“No… but I was just here a few days ago with him…” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in thought. What was going on? Where could he have gone? What could’ve happened to him?

In your peripheral vision, you saw the old man hobble away, but not without stopping to glance back at you with narrowed eyes every few steps.

And then you remembered with a sharp intake of breath. You and Wooyoung were thrown into jail to fade away into nothing but legends… and now nobody believes you really exist… Wooyoung was thought to be dead by everybody… could the same be happening to his innocent, pink-haired friend? A dark, tar-slicked hand reached out into the confines of your chest and curled its slimy fingers around your palpitating heart in a steely grip.

They took Yunho. The realization had you slapping a palm to your mouth, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. It all made sense; the untended garden, the old man saying nobody’s lived here for years… it sickened you to think that the only reason you could remember him was because you weren’t in Cerulea when he ‘disappeared’.

“Oh, no. Oh, god, no!” You leaned against the door, overwhelmed. If they took Yunho, would they have Wooyoung, too? Did Wooyoung even come back to Cerulea? If he wasn’t here, then he’d be the only other person who remembered Yunho.

Just what the hell are you going to do now?

It felt wrong to stay in Yunho’s empty little cottage with your newfound realization. The pirate ship was the second best option, but even that was much too far for your trembling legs; you doubted you’d even make it to the beaches, much less get in a small boat to row back to the anchored ship. Besides, the memory of San jumping off the side was one that you weren’t very keen on reliving.

And so, that was how you found yourself in front of an inn, only two cobbled roads away. The heavy door whined as you gently nudged it open, shuffling inside. Your heart was thumping against your ribcage so loudly that you could barely hear anything else. For once, you were glad that your name had faded into legend. To them, you were probably just another nobody.

The inn held the thick aroma of cheap alcohol and spritzer perfume. You glanced around curiously, noting the few people poking away at their breakfast and chugging down their frothy ales.

What looked to be the owner of the establishment was standing behind a counter, looking bored. He caught your eyes, and despite your head telling you to turn around and walk back to the pirate ship, you found yourself shuffling forward.

“What can I do for you?” The innkeeper asked, eyeing your haggard appearance.

Feebly, you pulled out a handful of gold coins and dropped them onto the wood of the counter. “Can I just get a room for the night? Will this be enough?”

The man across from you stared at you incredulously, his gaze flickering from the gold to your wide eyes. “Where’d you get all this money from? You didn’t steal it, did you?”

You blinked twice, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “They’re my savings.”

He looked upon you dubiously, but accepted the coins nonetheless. “You can have breakfast if you’d like. It comes with the room.”

Shaking your head slightly, you replied, “thanks, but I just want to get settled in for now. I’ll come down for luncheon.”

“Suit yourself,” the innkeeper quipped, sliding over a rusty key with eight engraved into its dull metal. “Head upstairs, turn left.”

And so that’s where you went, the wooden stairs creaking under your weight. You slotted the key into the lock of a door that had a large metal eight clearly displayed, and heaved the door open. By now, it felt as if your muscles were on fire. Everything seemed to be aching.

The first thing your eyes laid upon was a small bed, a thin, lavender-hued fleece wool blanket draped over the lumpy mattress and a single measly pillow propped up at its head. It took everything within you not to dive into the warmth of the woolen layer, but you managed to bide your time, even if it was just a couple minutes.

You toed off your boots, the soles of your feet practically numb. The pack that hung on your shoulder was next to come off, sliding down your arm and onto the bedside table. There was an unlit candle by the windowsill, but still more than enough light streaming in, seeing how it was still quite early in the morning.

The air smelled of breakfast from downstairs; consisting of, from what you saw, honeyed oatcakes and fruit tarts and rations of fried eggs and sausage. Your stomach was still quite empty, but you didn’t have the heart to go back. You needed time to think, time to rest.

After you nursed a few sips of water from a bottle in your knapsack, you finally allowed yourself to sink onto the bed, sighing out in contentment.

Everything felt so quiet, so still. This all felt like one of the stories you’d make up back when you were still in the cell. Perhaps it was all a bad dream, and you’d wake up in Wooyoung’s arms in Yunho’s little cottage, his lips littering soft kisses down the column of your throat until you stirred back into consciousness. A shiver ran through your spine and you sluggishly tucked the blanket up to your chin.

But since this wasn’t a dream, you found yourself at a loss.

“Oh, Wooyoung,” you whispered. “What should I do? Where are you?”

It was so quiet that you could imagine Wooyoung’s voice in your head saying, “Don’t worry about me. Just go. Get back on the ship and sail away and never look back.” You frowned at the thought, curling onto your side so that your knees were pressed up to your chest.

“I love you,” were the last words imaginary-Wooyoung murmured, before your mind grew blank. The silence that followed was what ultimately lulled you into a tranquil slumber.

You were awoken partly from the light from outside angling directly into your shut eyes, and partly from the agitated growl emitting from your stomach. Blearily blinking the sleep away, you glanced around the room, fumbling for the bottle in the knapsack. After gulping down enough to quench your thirst, you slid out from underneath the purple blankets.

And following digging your knuckles into your eye sockets, you stumbled towards your boots, shoving your still-sore feet in. You didn’t bother lacing up the loose threads. After all, you were just going down for lunch, anyway.

Downstairs, the inn seemed far more crowded than it had been in the morning. A twinge of paranoia sang its trill song in the back of your mind, but you pushed the thoughts away, moving to sit on a dark stool in the corner.

“Slept well, I presume?” The innkeeper grinned slightly, raising an eyebrow at the state of your rumpled hair. “What’ll you have for luncheon, then?”

“Anything you have, I suppose,” you replied in a raspy tone, clearing your throat slightly.

A bowl of steaming rice and battered fish cubes slid across the counter, along with a side of warm bread and a slab of light canary-hued butter melting off the top. You were quick to tuck in, eating at a pace that would most probably have your stomach complaining in the near future.

The innkeeper looked like he wanted to ask you something, but ultimately didn’t get the chance as an influx of customers poured through the doors. You barely glanced upwards, wanting nothing more than to finish up your meal and head back upstairs to properly plan out what you were going to do. The growing crowd’s noise was starting to make you feel a little antsy.

A solid five minutes later, your bowl was already empty, save for sticky rice kernels stuck to the bottom. You dropped a gold coin next to the half-eaten buttery bread as a token of thanks for the innkeeper.

And when you hopped off the stool and looked forwards, you could practically feel your heart lurch into your throat. The sight of him was one that you never thought you’d see again, nor did you want to. You’d recognize him anywhere. He looked unchanged, the same roughly-shaven beard covering the expanse of his squared jaw, the jagged scar that trailed over his sallow cheekbones. Those damned stormy eyes, the same color as the princess’ silver necklace.

The man that had guarded your cell for God knows how long surveyed the chatting crowd with an ugly scowl imprinted onto his features, nose upturned as if he misliked being amongst the common folk. He moved away from the door, shoving past the common civilians milling about. The innkeeper was the first to notice the burly man’s presence, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Hello, sir. How can I help you today?”

Completely skipping over any need for niceties, the guard held up an unfurled scroll, “We’re searching all nearby premises for a dangerous criminal. Looks like this.”

From your position, you couldn’t see what he was showing the innkeeper, but it was quite obvious that it was some sort of rough artistic rendition of you. Dread trickled into you as you watched his face morph into one of slight recognition.

You needed to leave. Right now.

The busy throng of civilians were used to your advantage as you silently weaved through the crowded inn, people you bumped into ranging from deliriously drunk to slightly tipsy. Your heartbeat was thundering far too loudly, to the point where you couldn’t hear what the guard was growling out. You were a couple meters behind him now… if he so much as looked backwards, you would be a dead person standing.

Shit. The knapsack. It was still in your room. You probably wouldn’t last two days without it. And so, you set off for upstairs, pace steadily growing quicker, in tandem with your palpitating heart rate.

Grab your pack, leave from the window, repeated itself over and over in your head, a mantra of panic and dread. Downstairs was too much of a risk.

You were running so quickly that your boots caught onto the wood of the stair steps, and you just about face planted against the bunt of the hard surface. Pain blossomed across your nose bridge and temple. Slightly disoriented, you pushed yourself back onto your feet and rushed away. No time. There was no time at all to get hurt. You needed to leave. What good were you to Yunho, to Wooyoung, if you were thrown back into a cell?

Utter relief sank its greedy claws into you as you burst into your room. No time, no time, no time, your own voice echoed in your head. You grabbed the knapsack and pushed at the window and—

“Shit!” You cursed angrily when the window didn’t budge, the cold panes wedged tightly against the wooden slats. It was then that you noticed the bolted lock clipping the window pane and wooden framing together. “Oh, fuck.” Your breaths came out as tight, staggered pants.

Before you could decide on what to do next, you heard shrill screaming come from downstairs, the terrible sound of steel against flesh reaching your ears. There was nowhere to go from here. You were trapped.

Practically hyperventilating at this point, you scurried back to the door. Perhaps if you went downstairs and blended into the crowd, you could get out without anybody else noticing.

But alas, you never got the chance. Because just as you turned into the hall, you were met with the horrendous sight of the stormy-eyed guard, the very same one that you saw every single day you were in that rotten cell, an appalling look of triumph splayed across his rugged features.

A leering grin twisted his ugly features in such a horrid manner that it took all you had in you not to retch. You noticed the way his sword was unsheathed, a ripe shade of carmine trickling down its sleek blade. No doubt that’s the innkeeper’s blood, you thought solemnly.

Before you could react, the guard’s calloused hand shot out to grab your forearm, pulling you along with him so roughly that you stumbled onto the floor, hands and knees scraping against the wood in a manner that had your skin torn and bleeding. Feebly, you attempted to grab at anything to hit him with, to hold on to out of desperation. With no remaining patience, the monster of a man yanked you upwards by the throat. Choked gasps left you as your hands darted up to claw at his clenching fingers, but you immediately stiffened when he snarled out something that had your blood running cold.

“The Gods have been kind to you today, girl. I would have you speared right here… have you bleeding out until all the life has been drained right out of you.” His putrid breath fanned across your neck as you struggled in his iron-clad grip fruitlessly. “Lucky for you, the princess has personally requested you be brought back alive.”

It was dark outside when Wooyoung cracked his eyelids open for the second time. Through the window across from him, he could see a plethora of stars speckled across a blanket of raven black, glinting and winking at him through the glass. The room he was in was beautifully decorated, stone arches elegantly curving just below the ceiling and intricate flame holders spaced out on the pristine walls. The candles bathed the room in a gentle honey-like luminescence; calming and tranquil, almost a sedative. All of his previous aches and pains were now dulled to gentle numbness.

Where am I?

“Glad to see you’re back awake. You’re not going to pass out on me again, are you?”

Wooyoung nearly screamed at the sudden voice from beside him, flinching so hard that the crown of his skull knocked against the bed’s headboard. He hissed in pain, face contorting into a grimace.

The elf (Yeosang was his name, Wooyoung faintly recalled) muffled a snort underneath his breath before swiftly pulling up a chair and sitting beside him, “Does it still hurt anywhere? I tried to heal your wounds with sarcio essence, but seeing that you’re human, it’ll take a bit longer for you to recover. You took quite a beating, you know.”

Wooyoung tried to speak, but the dryness in his throat made it hard to speak.

“Oh, here.” The attentive elf poured cold water from a pitcher into a small cup, handing it over to Wooyoung. He gingerly drank, swallowing with great effort.

“Where… where am I?”

After pursing his lips in thought, Yeosang bowed his head slightly, glancing at the tight bandages wrapped around the dark-headed man’s torso. “You’re in Nymaeden.”

“Nymaeden?!” Wooyoung just about shrieked. His bruised features twisted in agony. Perhaps he shouldn’t have shouted. Then, in a much softer tone, he mumbled out, “how did I get here?”

He was, most likely, all the way across the world from you. Although his mind was still heavily clouded, you were still fresh and prominent in his mind. He hoped you were okay… left tied up on that pirate ship… Gods, this was all his fault… What a fool he was, thinking you’d be okay after all that you’d gone through. You probably thought that he was dead.

The blond elf arched an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” When Wooyoung shook his head in hesitant denial, Yeosang continued on patiently, leaning forward.

“It was just three nights ago…”

The waters were cold, seeping into his flesh and bones, filling every one of his orifices, the salt trickling into him like sand down an hourglass. He could feel it drip into his lungs. Bubbles of his life slipped past his cracked-open lips and Wooyoung, with what little energy he had left to spare, lifted his fingers and tried to catch the small globules of air. The sticky blood that clung onto his skin like honey dissipated into the ocean, staining the waters a darker, sinister hue.

Wooyoung closed his eyes. His limp body sank further and further down. This was the end.

But was it?

Mermaids, being curious and spirited creatures they were, watched the injured handsome man drift across the ocean, crimson blood seeping out of his wounds. They had seen how he was thrown off the ship, how he had fought when he was onboard. They took pity on him. Even unconscious, a pain, far deeper-rooted than his physical cuts and gashes, was quite obviously splayed across his features. It was the face of a man with an utterly broken heart. He had just lost something very dear to him, that was made abundantly clear.

The small group of mermaids glanced at each other worriedly, almost immediately reaching a mutual consensus. In a swarm of colorful scales and wispy locks of hair, they swam towards the unmoving body.

One of them shamelessly prodded at him, ogling him with widened eyes, and they waited with baited breath. Wooyoung did not awaken. And so, two of the elegant creatures wrapped their arms around his leaking torso, and jolted into a brisk swim, carrying him across the oceans. Wooyoung’s raven hair pulled away from his face, revealing the deep gashes across his paling skin. A thinning trail of his blood followed them. They had to be quick; this man was just on the verge of greeting death.

They were taking him to Nymaeden, the land of the Elves. The elvish folk were the best healers they knew, and they were rather fond of the mermaids. Perhaps they would be willing to heal this unfortunate soul.

“We found you on the beaches,” Yeosang said in a discolored tone. “You were… you were practically dead. It was a miracle we got your heart rate back up, really. You’re either an incredibly thick-skulled fighter or… you’re just a coward afraid of death.”

Wooyoung winced at the elf’s stinging remark. Which was it? Was he running away from what was inevitable? What was he fighting for?

Y/N, the small voice in his head chimed. Wooyoung swallowed heavily.

“These mermaids… could I speak to them? Maybe they saw where the pirate ship went!”

Almost immediately, Yeosang shook his head. “I’m sorry, the mermaids are long gone now. They’re due up North, and I doubt they’d come back anytime soon.” There was a whicker of sympathy hidden behind his molten hazel irises. “Do you have any other plans? We can’t exactly keep you here in the medbay for all eternity.”

For a second, Wooyoung’s ragged breathing stilled.

“Pirates,” he murmured under his breath unsurely, just loud enough for the elf to pick up. “Where can I find them?”

Rearing back, Yeosang hissed out, “you must’ve hit your head harder one too many times, human. You were almost in death’s bony grasp, and now you want to go back?”

“I don’t care!” Wooyoung erupted, flinging his hands upward, despite his muscles screeching in agony. “It’s not about me anymore. I left her on that ship… and I have to get her back. Please, Yeosang. Please.”

There was a beat of tense silence. Yeosang was no longer looking at the pleading injured man, but his head angled towards the window, gazing at the pale moon that decorated the night’s horizon in deep thought.

“You mustn’t tell anyone,” the blonde elf warned, narrowing his eyes. Wooyoung nodded vehemently. “Elves and pirates don’t mesh well together, I’m sure you know. Pirates are nowhere to be found in this country, they know well enough to steer clear of our waters. However… if you head westward past our nation’s border, you’ll find yourself in Cinisia. It might look like a small, harmless country, but I’m afraid you’d be gravely mistaken. Cinisia is perhaps the most dangerous country on the maps. Along their west coast, there’s an illegal trading market. Pirates swarm the coast like ants would spilt honey. If you’re looking for pirates, I’d bet all my silvers they’re there.”

Wooyoung took a moment to contemplate this. “How do you know of this market?”

“I’ve got into muddy territory with pirates myself,” he uttered with a stormy expression. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I have said this before. Elves and pirates? Not the best of friends, I can tell you that.”

Releasing a shuddering sigh, Wooyoung asked one final question. “Do you think I’ll find them? Do you think I’ll get Y/N back?”

Yeosang leveled a cold gaze with the dark-haired man, before gracefully rising to his feet and striding towards the door. “I’ll get you a map and traveling clothes and rations. You can leave at first light, so get some sleep. You’ll be needing it.”

A sinking feeling weighed heavily in Wooyoung’s stomach. He hadn’t answered the question.

Right before he left, Yeosang paused by the arched doorway and spoke once more without even turning to look at him. “And just so you know… if you make it out of that market alive and empty handed… I want you back here in Nymaeden. There’s something I want to offer you.”

The elf left in a blur of sage fabrics and soft flaxen locks. The honeyed flames of the candles withered inwards with his departure, faint tails of smoke dissipated into the air. The room faded into darkness, but Wooyoung was far too afraid to shut his eyes.

He was scared of dreaming of you.

That morning was one of the toughest he’s ever had. Yeosang had handed him a pack of traveling rations and equipment, bidding him adieu with a stout nod of his angular face. His muscles groaned and screamed with agony with his every step. The trek to Cinisia took hours upon hours, with hardly a break. Wooyoung was far too jittery to stop. He had to keep going. Creeks babbled with glowing water and the trees whispered poems in the wind, their alluring shadows offering a tempting sanctuary.

The contrast between Nymaeden and Cinisia was startling. Whilst the former was a luscious country of opals and forestry and pale elegant fortresses climbing to the sky, the latter was… well, it was quite hard to tell what anything looked like past the thick red smog lacing the horizon. The air stank of ale and smoke.

Definitely pirate territory, Wooyoung surmised grimly.

The shrill noises of whistling and hollering was a telltale sign that he was close. Wooyoung stepped over weather-beaten rocks, peering around the rocky cliff ledge to see hundreds, perhaps even thousands of ruffians gathered together in a colorful flurry of stolen fabrics, foods, and riches that seemed all the more glorious under the sweltering sun. Now, it smelled strongly of stale fruitcakes and gunpowder and sweat. Not the best of aromas, that was for sure. There were also pirates yelling out indiscernible prices that seemed to climb with every shout. He was pretty sure he saw a couple of them scuffling in a fight, some landing a couple square punches (most missed because they seemed to be too drunk to aim properly) on the nose before brushing their injuries off as if it were nothing.

What an awful place. Wooyoung could only hope you weren’t here. Well, no, that was a blatant lie. He’d do anything to see you again.

After digging his knuckles into his eye sockets to wipe his weariness away, he blinked the colored spots away from his vision with a melancholic sigh. Gods, he was tired. Unfortunately, he had little time to lament, so he pushed himself onwards.

Wooyoung seemed to blend in just perfectly; he was thankful Yeosang decided to pack in a tattered cloak. The rest of the pirates didn’t seem to bat an eye. Standing in the middle of a throng of filthy seamen, it was hard for Wooyoung not to double over and retch. His roiling stomach didn’t aid his precarious state one bit.

Though everything seemed to be a cacophony of rowdy pirates and the clattering of illegal trade, Wooyoung picked up on a particular chunk of dialogue exchanged between a gaggle of men.

“Have you heard of the siren incident? Yeah, it happened near the Isles of Odralle! Can you believe? Ship was fuckin’ headed to the capital of Odralle, but they had a sudden change of plans; suddenly wanted to go to Aurecia. Cocky bastards think they can sell anything to anyone nowadays, yeah? Good thing the sirens took them. Wonder if they were tasty, though. Stupidity fouls the meat, my father used to say,” one of the pirates rambled as he slurped on his ale.

“Your father was a jackass,” another snorted, pounding on his chest with laughter. “What the fuck is a ‘siren incident’? I swear you lot gossip ten times more than me wife does.”

A third pirate shoved at his shoulder, a look of incredulity painting across his tanned features. “How have you not heard? A famous pirate ship - maybe one of the most famous ones in history - got lured into siren territory! The whole crew’s gone. Ship wreckage hasn’t been found. Nobody’s heard or seen them at all. My guess is that they made a calculation mistake and went off navigation charts once switching from Odralle to Aurecia. Then the sirens… got the best of ‘em.”

This elicited a gasp from the fourth in the group. “Wait! The big ship with the peg-leg captain with just one eye? Damn, just hearing stories about him gives me the creeps. Legend had it that he defeated not one, but two fuckin’ krakens during a storm! His ship flag is, er, the red and gold one… with a skull, right? And the skull’s laying in blood and swords?”

Wooyoung felt his blood run cold.

He knew that flag. The flag they were describing… was exactly the one he saw before they took you… before they threw him out for the sharks…

And before Wooyoung could even think it through, he found his body jerking forward, pushing past the bystanders and throwing himself into the gossip circle with all but a mangled growl escaping his throat. He yanked the last pirate to speak forward by the collar until the tanned man’s face was so close, his nose brushed against Wooyoung’s. The rest of the gang immediately quelled their incessant yammering, eyes growing wide in interest. Some placed their hands onto the hilts of their curved swords as a precaution, but they didn’t want to do anything hasty. After all, they loved a good fight.

“WHEN WAS THIS?” Wooyoung was glad his voice didn’t crack as he yelled, shaking the stricken pirate by the collar. “There was… there was a woman on that boat. She can’t be gone! She can’t be dead!”

They all looked at him as if he were crazy.

And after a second longer, Wooyoung’s grip loosened. It seemed he was a little rougher than first anticipated, because the fabric around the tanned pirate’s neck was crumpled and one of the pearly buttons came loose, dangling by a thin thread. He staggered backwards two steps, painfully sucking in lungfuls of rancid air.

Were you… were you gone? Was that it? Had you succumbed to the siren’s sweet song of death?

“Mate,” the tanned pirate spoke up with a lilt of sympathy in his tone. “There was never any woman on that ship. And besides, the ship hasn’t actually been found yet.”

The fire of hope that once burned brightly within the hearth of Wooyoung’s chest, was now but a dying ember. However, the man’s words gently blew on the warm ash until a new flame ignited. This was a different kind of hope. Who knows, maybe you had managed to escape the sirens. For all that was good on this planet, Wooyoung hoped you were still alive.

It was then that the most peculiar thing happened.

A man (if he could even be considered a man) - perhaps one of the ethereal beings he’s ever set his eyes upon - strode up to the circle of pirates, leveling his stormy gaze with Wooyoung. His hair was a shocking shade of pink, laying in loose strands across his forehead. A dirtied tunic hung over his shoulders in tatters, ripped and frayed in too many places to count. The belt that cinched around his waist was lopsided and unbuckled, dangling to the floor. The trousers he was wearing, a dusted shade of raven’s wing, was in the same state of disarray as his tunic. He was a mess, and Wooyoung could see a thick film of distraught glazing his eyes.

“My name is San,” he rasped. “And I was on that pirate ship.”

The marble was cold beneath your scraped knees. Your eyes studied the golden rivets decorating the pale white floor, splintering off into branches of aureate, though it was quite difficult to see through the bruises and unyielding blood obscuring your vision. If your hands weren’t bound behind your back, you would’ve at least tried to staunch the crimson seeping out of the fresh cut you sported across your temple. The guards had thrown kicks and punches everywhere they could reach until you had stopped struggling, every fibre of your being felt nothing but raw pain and the kind of anger that left you completely and utterly exhausted.

You just… you wanted it to all be over.

However, with the King and Queen sitting tall and proud just meters in front of you, you highly doubted things would be resolved at the snap of a finger. Beside their majesties sat the rest of the royal bloodline, dainty crowns of lustrous tawny and glinting silvers resting upon their regal heads.

They made you sick.

“I must say,” the Queen purred at last, placing her chin on her palm while gazing at you with a malevolent smile, irises of amethysts glinting in the cold light. “It’s impressive how you managed to escape the dungeons in your condition. Even got yourself a pretty little boat and everything.”

You could feel yourself blanching. How did she know about the pirate ship you left by the beaches?

“As I’m sure you’re aware by now, Y/N is only but a legend. Though nobody truly believes you’re real, you are still very much respected throughout the nation. And since you’re regarded so highly amongst the common folk,” the King rumbled, clasping his hands together with a smug leer tracing his lips. “You’ll be made a lowly servant for the lovely Princess, Amarelia.” He gestured further down the line, to a sweet young girl barely of age. The Princess was a frail thing, with skin of dove’s wings and lips of sweet peaches and lashes that kissed the apples of her cheeks. She somewhat resembled a fawn, what with her large eyes and innocently placant features. Her curled sienna locks were gathered into an elegant updo, showcasing the glimmering silver laces on her dainty neck.

The very ones that you tried to steal so long ago, and the entire reason you were even here. That necklace was what made you a well-known myth in Cerulea.

Anger broiled deep within you, but you kept your mouth clamped shut. There were guards ready to strike if you moved even a centimeter, and you decided to play it safe for now.

There was something you were practically dying to ask, though.

What did you do to Yunho?

“To welcome you into servitude,” the Queen surveyed you with hooded eyes. “Crawl to Amarelia and kiss her shoes. Thank us for not having you executed on the spot. Perhaps it shall give you an idea of your rank in this castle. You are nothing to us.”

“Mother!” The Princess gasped in protest with something akin to pity and horror melding into her soft complexion. It was clear that the sweet dove wanted nothing to do with this. In a way, you felt sorry for her as well.

Nobody paid her any mind.

With a heavy heart, you started shuffling towards the Princess. Pain and humiliation blossomed across your skin like flames crawling over oiled wood. A part of you considered standing your ground, lifting your head high, refusing to obey any of her commands. And you would’ve, truly. But… Yunho. If there was even the slightest chance he was alive and kept hostage because of you, you needed to remain on your best behavior. For his sake and even perhaps for your own.

Once in front of her, you dipped your head to quickly brush your lips against her fine cream flats, immediately straightening your spine with a grimace afterwards. Amarelia regarded you with a sympathetic look.

The guards stepped forward to roughly drag you back to your original spot. Your mind barely registered the cold sensation of metal clamping around your neck, the rattling of chains a ghostly echo in your ears. The Queen was grinning so widely it was a wonder her face didn’t split in half. It took everything you had in you not to spit onto the floor in defiance.

When they started tugging you towards the grand double doors, you realized that you couldn’t just sit around and allow them to throw you around like a ragdoll. You kicked out your feet in resistance, ignoring the cinching pain of the metal around your neck, boots thudding against the smooth marble surface. The guards swore under their breath, pulling you along ever harder.

“WHERE’S YUNHO?” Your hoarse voice ripped across the throne room. “DID YOU KILL HIM? DID YOU KILL YUNHO?! LET GO OF ME! YOU MURDERER!” The small quirk of the Queen’s perfect eyebrows had you spouting out obscenities, rage bubbling over your struggling form.

Double-doors swung open, and with that action brought the largest crowd you’ve ever seen in your life. There must’ve been thousands - no, hundreds of thousands of people out there. And they’ve all come for you. The myth and the legend. Y/N L/N.

It was all so sudden. You didn’t even remember how you got to the front of the highrise platform, being forced back onto your knees with a grunt. There were common folk and wealthy lords alike littered about the ocean of heads. Some looked to be terrified, others watching on with hanging lips of awe.

You swallowed heavily.

“Behold!” The King bellowed from somewhere behind you. There was a sneering lilt to his tone that made you want to spring upwards and knock his teeth out. “Your beloved Y/N!”

The crowd in front of you erupted into pandemonium. It was a strange and overwhelming cacophony of displeased boos and excited screams.

“A legend and a hero to some of you, I’m sure,” the Queen hummed, somehow instantaneously quieting the buzzing mass of people. “Now diminished to a mere servant. Y/N L/N is nothing, and acting like they are worth any bit more than scum will lead to treason. I’m truly sorry to disappoint some of you.”

She didn’t seem sorry at all. The crowd practically roared at that, most especially the commoners at the back, yelling curses until their throats were raw as they threw moldy apple cores at the guards.

You hung your head in shame, gaze trained to the wood slants of the stage. Hushed murmurs travelled about the rest of the crowd like waves gently crashing against shore. You were alone on this beach, it seemed.

Truly, utterly alone.

You must’ve had the worst luck in the world.

No matter how much you’ve fought, struggled, resisted, it always ended up the same. With you kept captive. That musty jail cell because of a damned necklace, then bound on the pirate ship to be sold off in Aurecia (a part of your heart sunk at the memory of the friendly fairy-pirate San jumping overboard)… and now a different cell, your wrists chained to the cobbled wall behind you. Your arms were sore yet numb, almost having lost any feeling in them, but that was the least of your concerns.

It was bright here, unlike your first cell. Back then it was always dark, and always cold. There was a crackling fire across the room, licking hungrily at the burning wood, casting amber phantoms across the expanse of your place of confinement. It wouldn’t be long until the fire died out and you’d be shivering once more. There was also a small window, but it was far away from your reach, and you wouldn’t even bother to try, considering your arms were laced above your head.

Being back in the castle had your mind racing. Everything had been so loud outside. But now that you were alone with only your own thoughts to accompany you, it almost felt suffocatingly quiet. The silence was deafening, roaring awful things into your ears.

You missed Wooyoung. What would he do in your position? You hoped he wasn’t here, truly. He deserved to be happy elsewhere. But you couldn’t deny that a small part of you wished he was back here with you.

Face it, he’s not coming to save you, the snarky voice in your head spat out. Nobody is. You’re on your own. You have to save yourself.

It was at that moment the door creaked open. A man with silver hair slid in, grimness splayed across his defined features, like the wiry shadows of tree branches marring the warm light of the room. You spotted the medical kit he clutched in his sure hands.

He was the royal healer. It somewhat surprised you that the King and Queen sent him. Perhaps it was Princess Amarelia’s doing; she seemed to have a pure enough heart. Her parents, on the other hand…

“Are you alright?” His voice was a soft thing, a mere whisper, almost lost to the loud snapping of the fireplace. Hesitance was evident in his tone, accompanied with stinging sympathy. “I apologize, that was a foolish question. Of course you’re not, that’s why I’m here. My name is Seonghwa, I’m the royal healer for this castle. May I?” He brandished a bottle of strange blue ointment and cotton patches. You had just been humiliated and degraded in front of thousands of people, and now a royal healer was apologizing to you? He was certainly giving you whiplash.

After pausing for the slightest of moments, you dipped your head just slightly, still waiting for something bad to happen.

“Sarcio essence,” Seonghwa murmured gently as he doused the patch with the blue liquid. “Ceruleans steal it from the elves of Nymaeden. Its healing abilities are unlike anything we’ve ever seen. Ever since magic, of course. But that’s a thing of the past now. Magic is illegal in Cerulea. Not sure if you heard while you were down there in your cell.”

That made a frown flicker across your face. Cerulea, the ever-perfect country, needing to steal things from other kingdoms?

And with another stout nod, Seonghwa leaned forward to swipe at your fresh wounds and bruises, cleaning away the dried blood with nimble movements. It stung at first, restrained hisses escaping your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like your skin was burning, and everything was on fire and the silent monsters were screaming your name.

“It’s a good thing if it stings a little. That’s your body working to put itself together.”

It was silent for a long time. You had to clamp your teeth down on your bottom lip so as to not let him hear your pathetic winces of pain.

The healer seemed to notice this, brows furrowing. “You don’t have to try to be strong around me, Y/N. You’re hurting, and it’s okay to show that. I won’t think any less of you.”

You eyed him with somewhat of a dubious aura, before bobbing your head for the last time. “Thank you,” you muttered brokenly.

Seonghwa hummed softly in response, screwing the cap back onto the sarcio essence.

The familiar creak of the door swinging open floated across the rooms, and you snapped your head upwards. Even the healer appeared to be surprised, bowing his head low at the newcomers. Also known as, if you had to put it eloquently, the true and utter banes of your existence. If you were the single flickering candle, they would be the tornados constantly whispering your flame good night.

It was the King and the Queen, draped in a waterfall of golden lace, diaphanous silver silks, and striking tones of mauve matching the hue of their angry irises. They held their heads high, looking at you as if you were the shit stuck on the bottom of their fine shoes.

“Leave us,” the Queen commanded Seonghwa without even glancing in the direction of the medic. She kept her gaze trained on you, and only you. Silently, he left the room with not another word, shuffling out of the door, unable to spare you one last sympathetic glimpse.

After surveying you, the Queen graced you with what seemed to be a smirk, and beckoned towards the guards behind her.

“Bring him in,” she said, practically dripping with delighted malice.

What happened next had you choking on your own gasps, tears immediately rimming your eyes like frost sitting atop tree branches on a harsh wintry morning. It had your stomach curling into itself, nausea climbing up your throat, begging to escape. A scream, so disgustingly raw and broken that it didn’t sound like your own voice echoed throughout the room.

They threw a peach-haired man in front of you, and he crumpled to the ground as if he were nothing more than a stringless puppet. If you thought that you were hurt, it was absolutely nothing in comparison to the sweet baker that you were so very fond of. He looked to be half dead already, bruises mapping the expanse of his pallid skin as abundant as there were stars in the sky. His once-bright pink strands of hair now looked a sullen grey, as if all the life had been seeped out of him. Dried blood crusted his cuts and gashes, littered all over his shivering form. You swore, with every fiber of your being, you were going to kill whoever hurt him.

“YUNHO!” You cried, heart lodged in your throat. The soft giant who had once been so boisterous, laid unmoving on the cobblestone floor. Kicking against the wall, you yanked away at your manacles fruitlessly until your wrists grew raw, wanting nothing more than to fall to your knees and crawl to him and ask if he was alright. It didn’t matter that you were hurting yourself in the process, you just… you wanted to get out of these chains, out of here, away from everything.

How dare they?

Tears were rolling down the apples of your cheeks, conjoining at your jaw and dripping mercilessly onto the ground. A constant drip, drip, drip of your pain made loud and clear to everybody else in the room.

You were so furious, so heartbroken, that you had forgotten anybody else existed for a short second. It was a shame that you were only reminded when one of the guards stalked up with the King’s nod of approval, gripping Yunho by his faded locks and yanking him upwards. His face didn’t seem to even flinch, numb and desensitized.

Was Yunho gone? No… no, he couldn’t possibly be…

A confusing concoction of sobs and desperate pleas and hiccups tumbled past your lips far too quickly for even you to understand yourself

The events that transpired rushed by in an indecipherable blur. You could barely pick up what the Queen murmured.

“This beloved baker friend of yours…” she cocked her head to the side in mock-thought, purple eyes flashing dangerously. “He is strong, I’ll give you that. However, he seems quite adamant not to give us any information about the other prisoner, Wooyoung. They were childhood best friends, no? I’m sure you remember him, don’t you?”

Your heart stopped at the sound of his name.

How dare you? How dare you? How dare you? The mantra reverberated in your skull until it was all you could think, staining your mind with an inky, poisonous black.

The mocking sympathy evident in her tone had you thrashing against your bonds all the more. “And alas… I’m afraid we no longer have any use for him.”

Just like that, the guard holding Yunho upwards drove his longsword clean through the gentle baker’s abdomen, dropping him to the floor. An ungodly wail tore from your vocal chords, resonating across the room and painting wicked smiles across the two royal leaders of Cerulea. Much to your horror, Yunho uttered no sound, merely dropping onto the stone with a thud. Crimson pooled at his wound so quickly, that the rose-hued ichor grazed against your feet in a matter of seconds. You stopped struggling, the drumming of your heart loud in your ears.

Since your gaze hadn’t left Yunho’s unmoving body, you didn’t even noticed the Queen sidestepping the puddle of blood, forcing your eyes away by gripping your slick face with one of her cold hands. You tried to pull your cheeks away, but it was as if her fingers were steel. Her purple eyes were so close to yours, you could see the flecks of aureate gold embedded within the enticing lilac. The Queen flashed you a charming smile, as if she hadn’t just murdered your friend in cold blood. It seemed she noticed your pounding heart rate, because she murmured an incantation in old Cerulean that you couldn’t quite pick up. In an instant, you could feel yourself relaxing in her grip, wrists going slack in the cuffs, the muscle in your chest thumping slower and slower. A part of you was afraid it would grind to a stop.

Her pearly whites flashed as she grinned evilly. The lavender in her eyes darkened drastically, to the point where any trace of gold disappeared completely.

“We didn’t kill Yunho,” she leaned closer and whispered into your ear, her tawny locks tickling the side of your face. “Killing is barbaric.”

There was an old story of a gingerbread man and a fox crossing a river you often heard retellings of during your childhood. The fox swore up and down that he wouldn’t eat the gingerbread man whilst helping him cross the river. As suspicious as the gingerbread man was at first, he eventually climbed onto the sly fox’s back, naive with hope. The fox arrived at the other side of the river alone and with a full stomach.

It seemed you were the foolish gingerbread man and the Queen was the fox. The Queen’s magic seeped into your being, clouding your mind in a dangerous haze you could no longer fight.

You believed her.

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thebadgerclan · 3 years

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SFW Alphabet: Lucius Malfoy

Requested by Anonymous

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Lucius is a very affectionate man, always wanting you to know just how loved and adored you are. He’s almost always holding your hand or has an arm around your shoulders, or both. When you’re alone at home, Lucius will hold you in his lap, pressing kisses all over your face.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Lucius has very few people who he considers friends, Severus being among them. But having him as a friend, you’re never alone on anything. Lucius will stand by your side through anything, acting as a confidant and a shoulder to lean on whenever you need it. If you need some sway with the Ministry, he’s more than willing to help you there too.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Lucius adores cuddling: having you in his arms, holding you close, it’s one of his favorite things. When the two of you are alone, he likes to have you in his lap as the two of you read or just spend time together. Lucius is always the big spoon, with you either facing him or with your back to his chest. He also likes it when he’s on his back and you’re tucked into his side or lying on top of him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Lucius does want to settle down with you, he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. You already own his heart, he knows that there’s no other woman for him, so he sees no reason not to settle down with you. He’s already got the massive manor, but if you want to move somewhere smaller, he’s already signing the deed. Lucius is shit at cleaning, he’s had house elves for his entire life, but he can cook pretty well. He doesn’t do so very often, but sometimes, when he wants to surprise you, he’ll shoo the elves from the kitchen and cook you a romantic dinner (he has to call them back because he has no clue where stuff is, but he does cook the meal)

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) It would break his heart into a million pieces to end things with you, but if he had to, Lucius would put on the icy, cold, unapproachable exterior he shows to everyone but you. “This can’t go on, Y/N,” he says, feeling ill with himself. “We’re done. I’m sorry, it’s over.”

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Lucius most certainly wants to marry you, and now that Narcissa’s out of the picture, he can. You’re together for about a year or so before he gets you a ring, and as soon as the little box is in his hand, he’s planning a super romantic evening for you. After a 5 star meal, complete with champagne and dessert, he gets on one knee and asks you to marry him.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) He may seem like a cold, cruel man, but around you, he is the gentlest, kindest, warmest man you’ve ever met. Lucius is such a gentle man around you, treating you like a fawn (and fawning [pun not intended] over you as one does a baby deer), always being tender and gentle. Emotionally, he’s such a sweetie, never raising his voice at you. I won’t say he never gets angry with you, because he’s human, but he tries not to.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Lucius likes hugs, though you’re usually the one to initiate them. He prefers to be able to hold you for longer periods of time, and as hugs are usually short lived, they’re not his favorite. Don’t get me wrong, he loves it when you hug him, he loves any form of physical intimacy with you, he just prefers cuddling. That being said, his hugs are strong, he squeezes you tight against him, sometimes knocking the wind out of you. He’ll rest his chin on your head, and kiss you sweetly when he pulls away.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Lucius waits until he’s 100% certain of his feelings for you, more for your benefit than his. He doesn’t want to rush into telling you he loves you if he thinks he might walk back on it (that’s very unlikely, but he wants to be sure). After 5ish months, when you’re away for a week and Lucius feels physical pain in his chest for missing you, that’s when he knows he loves you. The first words out of his mouth when you return are “I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything else in this world, and I will always love you.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Lucius is a VERY jealous man, you are his and his alone, no one else gets to have you. If he sees someone looking at you a little too long, making eyes at you, hitting on you, or making you uncomfortable in any way, he’s at your side immediately. Lucius will pull you into his side, arm tight around your shoulders or waist, grey eyes staring daggers at whoever dared to speak to you. “Are you alright, my dear?” As soon as you’re alone, Lucius will kiss you hard, usually pushing you against a wall, snarling “Mine.”

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Lucius is a very skilled kisser, he knows how to convey every single emotion just by pressing his lips to yours. He’ll pull you fluff against him, arms around your middle; one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other either on your back or ass. He likes to kiss your lips, obviously, but he also loves kissing your forehead, neck, hands, chest, and thighs. He likes being kissed on the lips, again, obviously, on the cheeks, the chin (because that might be all you can reach), hands, shoulders, basically anywhere.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) I HC that Lucius played a massive role in raising Draco, so I think he’s pretty good with kids. Kids that aren’t his tend to get on his nerves a little, but his own kids, man, they’re the moon and the sun to him. He adores his own children to no end, and if you want to have kids with him, Lucius is more than happy to be a father again.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Lucius gets up early most mornings, so he’s not always there when you get up. But there’s always a cup of coffee/tea/whatever you like on the nightstand under a stasis charm, usually with a little love note under the cup. On the days he can sleep in a bit, you wake with Lucius wrapped around you (he’s wrapped around you every morning, you’re just awake for it this time). He’ll gently kiss you awake, smiling when you open your eyes. “Good morning, my love.”

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Nights and evenings are quiet intimate affairs between the two of you. Evenings usually entail a private, often romantic dinner before the two of you retire to the sitting room. Lucius will usually hold you on his lap or have you tucked into his side. You either read together, talk about your day, or watch a movie (Lucius has a home theatre type setup, fight me). When it gets late, he’ll lead you up to the master bedroom where you usually share a bath or shower (which can lead to sex), before going to bed, you held close to Lucius’ chest.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Once Lucius is sure and comfortable in your relationship, he’ll start to reveal things about himself. Not all at once, more like when you ask him questions, but he won’t hide things from you once he’s comfortable.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Lucius has a temper, but he keeps it in check with you. You do make him angry sometimes, but it’s never long lasting, and it never gets physical. He might brood in his study for a little bit, but after an hour or so he’ll come out and apologize for being a bear.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) At the beginning of your relationship, Lucius is so dedicated to remembering every little thing about you, he actually keeps a little journal. It’s filled with random things that you’ve said on your early dates, things like “Favorite color: blue, Hogwarts house: Y/H, had three dogs as a child: Kelly, Mary, and Pepper.” Obviously, he doesn’t need it after a while, but he still has the journal in his bedside table. The last addition he made was: “Likes princess cut diamonds, jeweler on 5th has wide selection.”

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) Lucius’ favorite memory of you is the first time the two of you had dinner with Draco. The only thing more important to him than you was Draco liking you. After Lucius had escorted you back home, he returned to the Manor where Draco was waiting. “So?” Lucius asked, pacing nervously. Draco just smiled. “I like her, Father. She’s not Mother, but I like her.” He was so happy to hear that his son liked you, he couldn’t sit still for hours.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He’s very protective, Lucius wants and needs to know that you’re safe at all times. He’ll never stop you from doing something or going somewhere, but if there’s potential for you to get hurt, he’s either going with you or putting measures in place to make sure you’re safe. Lucius loves you more than anything or anyone, he can’t bear the thought of losing you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) This man has the resources to make you feel like royalty every single day, so you’d better believe that Lucius goes all out on dates and anniversaries. Fancy restaurants, expensive wine and food, and anniversaries and gifts are on a whole nother level. Trips to Paris, Athens, Madrid, anywhere you’ve ever dreamed of going, Lucius will take you there. His gifts are usually very expensive, diamond earrings, necklaces, bracelets, designer clothes, but they can also be sentimental: a book you’ve had your eye on for a while, candy from Honeydukes he knows you like.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Lucius can be a bit narcissistic, very self centered. He sometimes gets so wrapped up in his own head that he forgets that he has a girlfriend who wants and needs his attention. He always feels so guilty afterwards, apologizing profusely to you. He usually ends up surprising you with a fancy dinner or seducing you into be to show you how much he loves you

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Have you seen the man? Lucius cares about his appearance, like, a lot. At the beginning of your relationship, he refused to spend the night with you, solely because he didn’t want you to see him when he work up; with bedhead and morning breath

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) Yes, you’ve stolen his heart, and Lucius cannot live without you. When he was away for a week on Ministry business, he felt like a shell of himself, like part of him was missing. You feel the same, hating when you’re away from him for too long. The thought of leaving him forever makes you feel sick, but Lucius is quick to reassure you that he’s yours forever.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Lucius has a very in depth skincare routine, and if he misses or skips a night, he’s blotchy in the morning

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner? Lucius can’t be with someone who can’t be serious. Of course, he loves it when his girl lets loose and laughs, but in more serious situations, he needs her to be serious. He’s all for being laid back and just having fun, but he feels there’s a time and a place for that versus being serious and sophisticated.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Lucius puts lavender oil on his pillow to help him fall asleep. He has a bit of insomnia, and it takes that or 4-5 rounds of sex to knock him out

#lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert

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fredweesleyismyslut · 4 years

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Just a Kiss part 2 - Draco Malfoy x Reader

A/N: Hey guys! This took me quite a bit to write because I had writers block and I literally rewrote it like three times and I like this one the best, so hopefully you guys do too! Anyways, thank you so much for liking the first one. Also, really random but I’m so excited for Christmas not just for presents but me and my friend have planned a Harry Potter marathon together for Christmas and I’m so excited to rewatch all the movies and we’re making snacks as well, so I’m so excited ahhhhh! Hehe anyways, hope you guys enjoy and stay healthy! Love you, forehead kisses mwah.

Arriving at the Malfoy manor you gaped in awe, staring at the house as you walked in. “Wow, it’s been forever since I’ve been here. Every time it feels bigger.” Draco chuckled softly as he walked ahead to open the door for you. Lucious walked in first as Narcissa came from the side of the room, having just walked down the flight of stairs. “Y/n, I’ve been waiting for you. I had dinner prepared and your room. I hope you like everything.” You smiled, going in for a hug, as you noticed the dinner table filled with food, “Wow, I think you prepared a feast, not a dinner. I’m about to not fit into my pants tomorrow.” Narcissa let out a soft laugh as she smiled down at you, “I wasn’t sure what you liked.” “Oh, don’t worry Mrs. Malfoy I’ll love everything. Thank you so much for the dinner and for letting me intrude on your Christmas.” She smiled again, moving the hair away from your face, “Thank you for coming, I’m sure Draco will enjoy your company around here.” You looked over at Draco, meeting his eyes as you quickly looked away, “Yeah…” you said softly, as Narcissa looked over at Draco. “Why don’t you show her to her room, darling so she can set her bags down.” Draco nodded, leading the way as he grabbed your bags from you. “No it’s..” you tried to protest, “I’m sure they’re quite heavy. I can get one of them at least.” Draco shook his head, “I’m not a scoundrel. Besides they’re not heavy.” he answered, as he easily lifted both bags up as he walked up the stairs. “Okayyy, pack it up Hercules.” you murmured under your breath as you followed. Leading you to a room at the end of the hall Draco set your bags down, “My mother had the room decorated.” he said, motioning at the white frills on the bed and princess drapes hanging from them. “Wow, ummm well just wow. It’s gorgeous.” He smirked softly as he walked to the edge of the room, “You can go ahead and change into something more comfortable, we’re having dinner soon.” He closed the door behind him, as you heard soft footsteps reside down the hallway. Changing into a set of pajamas you walked down the stairs, sitting at the full dinner table. You were sat next to Draco, heart pounding softly as you glanced to your left. You could see his soft cheekbones lead down to his jawline, skin pale as...you looked away quickly, noticing his icy blue eyes turn towards you. Staring down at your food you tried to calm your breath, as Narcissa spoke up, “Do you two have any classes together?” You looked up at her, “Well, we have potions together, nothing else really.” She nodded, as she continued, “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. You’re really a grown woman now.” She glanced between you and Draco softly, almost unnoticeable as she smiled softly. “Well, I’m quite full. I’ll see you two in the morning.” You nodded as Lucious excused himself from the table as well, “Thank you again for the dinner.” you said, quickly as they walked up the flight of stairs. You sat awkwardly for a few moments staring at your empty plate before you started to gather the plates together. “What are you doing?” Draco asked as he watched you gather the plates together. “Ummmm cleaning?” “That’s what the house elves are for isn’t it,” Draco stated matter of factly. “Well, it’ll make the job easier for them if I at least get the plates gathered.” You retorted, trying to keep from losing your temper at his rudeness. Draco seemed truly confused as he looked up at you before he stood up as well, “It’s their job isn’t it?” he asked, as he grabbed your wrist to stop you. Pulling your wrist from him you huffed, “That doesn’t mean you have to be a dick about it, Malfoy. If you’re not going to help then go away.” Draco stood for a few seconds before he went to the other side, gathering the rest of the plates before he quietly walked off. “What a prick,” you muttered under your breath.

Later that night you awoke in the middle of the night, a soft pressure gathering on your bladder as you laid in bed. Groaning, you tried to ignore the feeling not wanting to leave the comfortable position you had made for yourself. Finally not being able to handle it you sighed as you got out of bed, walking out of the room to go to the bathroom. After relieving your bladder, you sighed in content, “Finally I can sleep again.” you murmured softly, quietly padding your feet down the hallway till you heard a muffled sniffle from downstairs. You silently gathered yourself, as you walked halfway down, just enough so you could take a peek. As you peeked around the corner you saw Draco, sitting near the fireplace with red, swollen eyes. You heard one phrase leave his mouth, “I can’t do this anymore.” You wondered if you should move closer, feet faltering as you decided to go back to your room. The staircase creaked softly under the weight of your foot as you quickly stopped, frozen in place as you thought, Of course, it fucking creaks now. Just my luck isn’t it? “Who’s there?” said Draco’s muffled voice, a slight strain in it. Heart dropping, your stomach clenched as you peeked around the corner again, “Just me….I was just ummm thirsty haha. I’m not anymore though so…” He glared softly, as he replied, “Go ahead and get your water.” Gulping softly, feeling as if there were rocks in your throat you nodded walking towards the kitchen to prepare a glass of water. Footsteps pounded softly behind you as a hand put itself in front of you on the counter, “Don’t even think about speaking a word of this, y/l/n.” His breath tickled your neck slightly as you nodded heart thumping as you waited for his footsteps to retreat, as you finally released the breath you didn’t know you had been holding. The next day was just as awkward if not more as you avoided eye contact with Draco all day, scared to speak of last night. In the middle of the night, you walked downstairs, deciding that the bedroom was too stuffy. Who knew big houses could feel just as stuffy, even though there’s so much space, maybe it’s because although the Malfoy manor was huge it wasn’t lively. It felt more like a museum than a house as if they were always ready to be their best selves. A voice broke you from your thoughts, “You’re awake.” Draco stated. You chuckled softly, “Yeah, thanks for telling me captain obvious.” You quickly closed your mouth, chastising yourself in your head at your sarcasm until you heard a soft chuckle break the silence. As you peeked from under your lashes at Draco, catching a glimpse of his blue robs staring at you. Clearing your throat you whispered softly, “Draco?” “Hmmm?” You swallowed, gathering courage as you continued, “Can I ask you something?” “As long as it’s not stupid.” Letting out a nervous giggle you asked, “Why were you...crying last night? I heard you say something about how you couldn’t do something?” You saw darkness flash in his eyes, as his body language visibly turned away from you, turning rigid as a rock as he replied, “None of your business, y/l/n.” You cringed at the use of your last name coming so harshly from his mouth, “Draco, please? I’m worried for you.” “And why would you be? It’s not like you’re my friend.” Sighing you gathered your breath, “Because I care, Draco. I know it seems like no one noticed, Draco, but I see you. The real you. I don’t care about your house, your status, I care about you. And you want to know what I see when I look at you?” He cocked his head towards you, raising his eyebrows in question, “What?” “I see a boy who’s terrified. I don’t know what you’re so scared of Draco, but I want you to know I’m here, and just in case you didn’t know I passed DADA with flying colors.” That earned a chuckle from him as he looked down at the hardwood table, “I don’t think that’s going to help me, besides you wouldn’t understand.” You glared up at him, standing you ground, “Try me, Malfoy.” His green orbs met yours as if he were searching for a safe place, as his stare faltered. He sat down, talking about the expectations his father wanted from him and that it was too much, and how he feels as if he has to have a mask on all the time to seem as if he had his shit together. You could tell he was holding something back, something even he was too afraid to admit out loud, but you didn’t push, instead slowly moving your hand forward, placing it on his wrist. His arm tensed as his hand fidgeted with his sleeve, you noticed it but didn’t say anything as you moved your hand to his chin. “It’ll be okay...I promise, Draco.” Those words seemed to be exactly what he needed that pushed him over the edge, suddenly the cold, hard exterior of his washed away. Instead, there was the scared boy sitting in front of you as he let out a soft sob. Leaning into your hand, his lips trembled as he tried to hold back tears. You sat silently as you moved closer, holding him to your chest as you rubbed small circles on his back, humming a melody your mother used to sing to you at night. “I think I should go” he whispered out, as he pulled away,, choking at the end as he abruptly stood up, “See you tomorrow night?” you asked, as Draco looked down, nodding softly before heading up the stairs.

Days had passed with you and Draco meeting every night, talking about anything and everything that nobody else knew. It was your secret meeting, just the two of you in the world as you spilled your secrets as if the two of you had been friends for ages. Christmas had approached just as quickly, you hadn’t even noticed the time passing. You had wished Lucious and Narcissa a Merry Christmas as you gathered at the tree in the morning. After passing gifts around, you smiled as Lucious and Narcissa exchanged gifts with you. “Ummm I got something for you two as well”, you handed them gifts that Draco has helped you pick out and order as you had been talking one night. After the exchanges they got up to leave as you got up, gathering all the wrapping paper left behind. Draco stayed and helped, finishing up gathering the wrapping paper and taking it to the trash. You smiled at him as you looked out the window as Draco opened his mouth, “I-” You cut him off, a childish giggle coming from you, “Draco, look it’s snowing!” You ran towards the window, staring outside watching the snow gather on the ground. Footsteps resounded from behind you as a hand placed itself on your waist, surprised you turned around. “What are you-” Draco’s lips found yours as he closed his eyes, cutting you off. Closing your eyes you let yourself sink into the abrupt kiss, his soft, clod lips moving in sync with yours. Finally, losing breath you pulled away as Draco gathered his breath before saying, “I’ve been waiting to do that. Merry Christmas, y/n.” You gaped in awe as you looked up at him, “I-I...Draco, I’m sorry-” Draco’s eyes glanced at yours as you tried to gather your thoughts coherently enough to respond before he let out quickly, ‘Sorry”. Before walking off. “No, Draco, I-” Staring at the snow you hit your head softly against the window, “I’m not sorry, though.” as you chastised yourself softly at your response to his kiss, “Merlin, you’re stupid, y/n freaking y/l/n.”

Tagged: @lord-byron, @lonely-kermit, @candycornmgg (btw love your pfp I love mgg), @potatothingsz

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Claus

You should know that I wrote this whole thing just for the bad pick-up line Mac uses. And then I got hit with major baby fever while writing the end and....you’ll see. Merry Christmas, y’all! ❤

Established MacRiley AU

*****

Riley’s only warning to Mac’s arrival was the slam of the front door before he yelled, “I’ve got the rings!” His boots clunked on the hardwood floor as he walked down the hall to their bedroom. “Let me get dressed and then we can go—”

Riley met Mac’s eyes in the bathroom mirror. He stood in the doorway, slack-jawed, taking in the full effect of her costume. Smiling to herself, Riley finished applying her mascara, arching her back and sticking her ass out for his benefit.

Mac cleared his throat. “Wow. You look incredible.”

She twirled to give him the full effect. The stretchy, ribbed material of her off-white sweater dress clung to her body, stopping just below her knees and leaving nothing to the imagination. Her favorite black, high-heeled boots gave the outfit just a bit of edge. But the real showstopper was her coat—crimson velvet trimmed with fake fur, swirling gold and silver embroidery, elegant bell sleeves. It even had pockets.

“This is my favorite part.” Clasping her hands behind her back, Riley swayed back and forth, watching the bottom of the knee-length coat swish like a bell.

“It’s stunning,” Mac said, still a little stunned himself. He finally closed the gap between them. “You’re the hottest Mrs. Claus in LA.”

“Literally,” Riley joked. “This outfit is toasty, and in case you didn’t realize, it’s definitely not cold outside.” According to her phone, the high was supposed to be 74 degrees.

Mac rubbed her arms. “In all seriousness though, you look beautiful.”

Even after all this time, Riley still blushed. “Thank you,” she murmured against his lips as she pulled him down for a quick kiss.

She sat on the bed, unashamedly checking her boyfriend out while he changed into his own Santa costume to match hers. He fished around in the pocket of his discarded jeans and pulled out a pair of rings. “Matty said we, and I quote, have to return these to the Phoenix tomorrow, so no using them to build a homing beacon or something.”

“Got it,” Riley said dryly. “No homing beacon.” She reached for her ring, but Mac seemed to have other ideas. He handed her his ring instead—a white gold band with a thin, but ornate border.

Mac spoke in a deep, announcer-like voice. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Mrs. Claus, you may go first.”

Riley held his left hand in hers, playing along. “Do you, Santa Claus, take me to be your wife?” She tried to be serious, but her lips curled into a smile without her consent.

“I do.” Riley slid the ring on. Mac continued, “Do you, Mrs. Claus, take me to be your husband?”

Riley made a show of thinking it over first. “I do.” He slid the ring—an engagement ring and wedding band fused together—onto her finger. She’d worn it before. Like Mac’s, it was white gold, but the tiny diamonds set into the bands made it glitter in the light. The engagement ring part had a princess cut diamond surrounded by more tiny diamonds, making the whole thing walk the fine line between opulent and gaudy.

She looked up, and Mac’s soft smile made her want to melt in a puddle. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he announced, lacing their fingers together.

“Okay.” Riley wrapped her arms around his neck. “You do that.”

*****

They drove Riley’s Jeep to the hospital, since someone forgot to go to the gas station on his way home, and they were already late. They’d gotten a little distracted after their fake wedding.

Mac rested his hand on Riley’s thigh while she drove. She leaned away from him, resting her left elbow on the door and holding the top of the steering wheel with her right. When Mac didn’t take the hint and started caressing her thigh instead, Riley batted his hand away.

“Oh no,” she scolded. “We are not doing this right now.” Mac pouted in the passenger seat.

They arrived at the hospital, hauling two massive bags of presents with them. The hospital administrator met them in the lobby to escort Riley and Mac to the children’s wing, thanking them and the think tank profusely for the entire duration of the walk. She and Mac exchanged the same sly look they always did when someone referred to the Phoenix as a think tank.

Meeting the kids went by in a blur. Altogether too many young, bright faces swarmed the waiting room, clamoring to meet Santa and Mrs. Claus. With each kid she met, Riley was in awe of how they were all so positive and happy and full of laughter, even though many of them were so sick and would be spending Christmas in the hospital.

The kids gravitated to Mac like moths to a flame. He sat and talked to each one, asking how they were doing and what they wanted for Christmas. They asked him ridiculous questions, like what snacks the elves like best and who his favorite reindeer was. In a classic Mac moment, he explained to a wide-eyed group of ten-year-olds that male reindeer lose their antlers every winter, so his reindeer are actually all females.

Every time Mac walked past—which Riley suspected was far more times than necessary—he squeezed her arm or grazed a hand down her back, and Riley couldn’t help the smile curling her lips each time he did it.

After a while, Riley gathered the kids and read a picture book version of ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. Pausing to show her young, captivated audience the pictures, she flicked her gaze to Mac. He stood in the back of the room with his arms crossed in a very un-Santa-like manner, chatting softly with one of the pediatricians. The rainbow lights of the Christmas tree behind him cast him in a warm, pink glow.

The kid closest to her tugged on her coat, and Riley turned her attention to the girl. She was probably ten or so, with intense, dark eyes that probably never missed a thing. Including Riley’s wandering attention, apparently. “Are you checking out Santa?” she questioned.

Caught. Riley cleared her throat. “Um—” Giggles erupted throughout her audience. “So what if I am? He’s very handsome.”

The girl scrunched up her face. “Gross!” Riley joined in on the second wave of giggles before returning to the story.

Later, after the chaos of opening presents, the adults rounded up all the kids and settled in to watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. The hospital administrator set it up so the movie projected on an empty wall. Mac pulled up a pair of chairs behind the projector and motioned for Riley to sit. Lacing their fingers together, Mac leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for doing this with me.” His expression was raw and unguarded.

Riley squeezed his hand twice in response. “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

They’d barely made it ten minutes into the movie when the shyest kid—a six-year-old boy wearing Spider-Man pajama pants who looked like a tiny version of Bozer—crawled into Riley’s lap. The boy didn’t say a word; he simply nuzzled his face into Riley’s shoulder and wrapped his tiny arms around her waist. Riley let go of Mac’s hand to pull the boy into her chest, where he fell asleep for the remainder of the movie.

Afterward, Riley carried the boy back to his room while Mac started to say goodbye to the other kids. They’d been there more than half the day, and for many of the kids, it was time for blood tests or scans or chemo. Or maybe just a nap.

Riley hugged the last kid goodbye with a bittersweet smile on her face. The little boy in her arms was so young, four or five at the most. Behind him, his mom mouthed, Thank you.

When the boy finally let go, Riley looked him square in the eye. "You be good, okay?" He giggled, nodding furiously before returning to his mom.

The boy and his mom walked away, leaving Riley and Mac alone in the waiting room. Riley stared after them. That had to be so hard, watching your kid have seizure after seizure and then spending days in the hospital, waiting for answers the doctors didn't have.

"Riles." Mac's low voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "You okay?"

She blinked. "Yeah, I was just thinking about that kid."

"I know," Mac sighed, rubbing his face. "He asked me if I could stop his seizures for Christmas."

Riley's heart clenched. "What did you say?"

"I told him I'd try my best."

Riley swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. Without thinking, she drifted into Mac's embrace, hands finding purchase on his chest and resting her cheek on his shoulder. His arms circled her, pulling her tightly against him.

She couldn't string the right words together to describe how she was feeling. Sorrow, for the kid whose childhood was now destined to be filled with doctors and hospital trips. Empathy, for the single mom trying her best to remain positive for her kid's sake. Admiration, for the way Mac smiled reassuringly at the little boy despite the tears welling in his eyes. Riley settled for, "I love you." She kissed Mac's cheek.

Pressing his lips to the crown of her head, he said, "I love you too."

They stayed like that for a long time, only parting when Riley said, "Let's clean up and go home."

Remnants of wrapping paper and plastic packaging littered the floor—all that was left from the bag of presents they'd brought. Well, that and the glitter. The ungodly amount of glitter that was, to Riley's horror, everywhere.

She picked up a wad of half-crumpled wrapping paper, sending a flurry of gold glitter airborne. Most of it landed on her clothes. Great. She'd be finding those damn gold flecks for months.

Mac chuckled behind her. She whirled on him. "It's not funny!" she said with mock offence, sticking her tongue out at him.

But he wasn't looking at her face. His eyes tracked her every movement, lingering on the places where her off-white sweater dress hugged her curves beneath her long, red coat.

Riley made a show of brushing the glitter off her dress, starting from her knees and working upward, drawing Mac’s attention with her movement. When Mac's gaze finally reached her eyes, she winked before resuming not-so-innocently picking up wrapping paper. Riley kept her back to him, waiting for Mac to make the next move.

Hands locked on her waist. Mac tugged her closer, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke. "I'd put myself on the naughty list for you."

Smirking, she replied, "Oh really." Riley glanced over her shoulder and had barely even realized Mac's face was still right there when his lips landed on hers, and he spun her to face him fully. The pile of wrapping paper she was holding fell to the ground at their feet, covering their boots in more glitter.

The kiss wasn't very good. Riley couldn't stop smiling, no matter how hard she tried to pull herself together enough to kiss him back instead of bursting out laughing. I'd put myself on the naughty list for you. He said that as if he were on the nice list in the first place. They broke way too many laws on a weekly basis for that to be true. Not to mention, Mac's non-consensual cell phone breaking alone was enough to put him on the naughty list for life.

"Are you just going to keep grinning like an idiot, or are you actually going to kiss me back?" he teased.

It took all of her concentration to pull off even the most chaste kiss. A little too eagerly for being in a hospital waiting room, Mac sucked on her lower lip and slid his tongue into her mouth, his hands sliding under her coat and caressing her sides.

Riley had just gotten it together enough to slip her own tongue in without getting a mouthful of teeth or fake beard when she heard a faint giggle. Her eyes snapped open, and she saw the cutest little girl peeking around a Christmas tree.

“Santa, we have an audience,” she warned.

Mac pulled away, blushing faintly, but his hands lingered on Riley’s stomach for an extra second. He gestured for the little girl to come closer. Sheepishly, she rolled out from behind the tree. Tinsel covered every available inch of her wheelchair, and the wheels lit up when she rolled in a way that reminded Riley of the light-up sneakers that were popular when she was a teenager. Not that she'd actually owned a pair, of course.

Mac squatted in front of the girl, whose wild blonde curls were equally unruly as Riley's own hair. "Were you spying on us?"

"Maybe," she said with a shrug.

Mac twisted to look at Riley. I like her. "What do you think, Mrs. Claus?" he asked. "Do spies get put on the naughty list?"

Yes. She winked. "I think this one can stay on the nice list. She managed to sneak up on Santa, after all. Very impressive."

The kid beamed. She had no idea.

"Yes," Mac said slowly, "very impressive." He turned back to the girl. "So, what do you want for Christmas?"

The girl listed a whole bunch of presents, claiming she wanted to give Santa options. Mac listened intently, nodding at all the right points.

Something warm bloomed in Riley's chest as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her. To say Mac was good with kids would be an understatement. When a kid spoke to him, he always gave them his full, undivided attention and took every word very seriously. When a kid was being serious, Mac was serious, and when a kid was acting silly, Mac would be twice as silly. And as a result, he could crack even the shyest and grumpiest of kids, and, more importantly, they would trust him.

A thought popped into Riley's head. I want to have his babies. As if her body was reiterating what it already knew and her brain had just figured out, her hands unconsciously drifted to her abdomen.

The same spot Mac's hands hands had lingered a minute ago, she realized with a start. Did...did he want kids with her too?

Riley wanted kids—she wanted kids with Mac—but she also knew that neither of them were ready to give up their job. They couldn’t keep doing what they did with a kid in the world. After growing up with absentee parents, they’d never risk leaving their kid to grow up without one or both parents.

But when the time finally comes, when she and Mac are ready to trade in getting shot at and making stuff explode for stability and mundane normalcy, she won’t be able to wait any longer to start a family with him.

She waited until they were in the Jeep before broaching the subject of kids. Tentatively, she began, "What were you thinking about back there when you put your hands on my stomach?" The look on his face then said he was definitely thinking about something, but Riley didn't want to assume what.

Mac dodged her question. "Sorry, I didn't realize I did it."

Riley knew that was a white lie, but she didn't call him on it. He'd answer honestly in his own time. Since it was too big a subject to outright ask him, Riley took a more subtle route instead. “Do you see yourself having kids?”

His eyes widened in response. “You know I want kids.”

That wasn’t what she meant. Wanting them and actively reshaping your life in order to have them were completely different things. “Yeah, but do you see yourself settling down, getting a safe, normal job, and raising kids?” They’d vaguely talked about this before, long ago, but Riley suddenly needed to ask him again.

Mac was silent for a long time, staring out the front window. “Yeah, I do,” he finally said. “With the right person.” He glanced over at her, eyes softening.

Me too, Riley wanted to say, but she choked on the words. It took her a couple tries, and the words came out strangled, but she was pretty sure Mac understood. Neither of them needed to say it directly in order for the other to understand: I want to have kids with you.

Riley spent the rest of the drive fantasizing about the kid-filled Christmases in her future. She glanced down at the ring on her finger. First step, she thought. Get a real ring.

#beth writes #macgyver #macriley #christmas fic #established macriley au #macgyver fanfiction

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kuronanox · 3 years

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Your Knight - Leopold Vermillion

"Leo." (Your Name) calls waiting down the hill for him waving her hands as the wind blows through the air, and the autumn leaves fly around them as he runs towards her with excitement, his smile ear to ear.

"I'm running away from my brother!" He tells her as they grab each other hands and run to the field where they would play together. "Princess and Knight?" Leopold asks her as she nods her head with a smile.

It was a cute little game they played often where the usual the knight saved the princess and there was a happy ending. "Wow your magic is so strong!" She says with sparkles in her eyes as he shot a baby fire out into the sky.

"You should see my brothers it's way better." He says as it explodes and they looked up to the sky to mesmerize it.

"You won't get in trouble being out here?" (Your Name) asks as she picked at the green grass and threw it into the air.

"Not if I don't get caught!" He chuckles as he slightly pushes her and she runs after him. "Hey that's not fair! I'm not fast." She pouts chasing after him.

"Huh?! Lame Leopold I didn't know you were one to play with commoners!" Solid shouts from afar with a smug smile on his face. (Your Name) gasps as she hid behind Leopold and watched Solid walk towards them.

"Come here little girl!" He says snatching her roughly away from the youngest Vermillion and threw her onto the floor. "Commoners like you don't get to have the luxury to hang out with us royals, got it!" He sneers kicking dirt on her dress as she looks down and lands hard on the floor.

"Leave her alone!" Leopold yells and threaten to use his magic on Solid but the older boy just scoffs and places his hands on his hips and chuckles.

"It's okay Leo, he's right. Commoners shouldn't speak to royals." (Your name) says trying to get up from the floor. Her voice was soft and shaking as if she was about to break down in tears.

"Shut up peasant! Who told you to talk!" Solid yells kicking her back to the ground as Leopold punched him in the face.

"What's little 8 year old Leopold going to do? Go snitch on me?" Solid taught as he laughs and dodges the punch before swinging his own fist hitting Leopold right on his cheek as the younger boy fell on the floor across from (Your Name). The two children look at each other with sadness written in their eyes.

"That's enough!" They heard a deep voice yell from behind as 22 year old Fuegoleon was watching with furious eyes and his mana flaring, carefully he picks up (Your Name) from the ground and looks towards Solids direction.

"Go home now!" He sternly says to Solid as the boy grew in fear and ran back to the Silva estates.

Fuegoloen holds (Your Name) as she starts to cry and wipe her tears as she says "I'm sorry Lord Fuegoleon I won't play with Leo no more."

Leopold runs besides them and sits on the ground next to them feeling ashamed he couldn't protect her from Solid and he didn't try his best to prevent it from happening.

"What is your name?" Fuegoleon asks kindly as he kneed down eyes to eye with her.

"It's (Your Name)." She sniffles as Leopold takes a hold of her shaken hand.

"It's a very pretty name, don't let anyone tell you who you can be friends or not friends with. We are all the same. I am thankful you let Leopold comes home everyday safely." He tells her with a smile as she looks up to him and nods with determination.

"Leo is my best friend I would never let him get hurt!"

"And I am thankful for that. You did take on a powerful kick."

Leopold squeezes her hand as she squeezes it back.

"Let's get you home now." Fuegoleon says carrying both Leopold and her in his arms.

"Aniue! I'm 8 years old I can walk myself!" The boy pouts as his older brother drops him and continues walking with (Your Name) on his back.

Once they reached her home she gave Leo a hug and Fuegoleon a shy smile before saying a farewell.

"Leo, I'll teach you have to defend yourself. How will you be her knight if you can't even protect yourself." He lectures as Leopold looks down ashamed, he kicks the ground and clench his fist with frustration. "Imagine if your sister was here."

"How do you know about that?" Leopold grimly says playing with his feet avoiding eye contact from his older brother.

"Don't think I don't know where you run off to everyday." Fuegoleon scolds as they walked back home together.

Now 8 years later Leopold was becoming a grown man and learning his full potential. He hadn't seen (Your Name) in a few years since she moved to the country side. He achieved so much after the fight with the elves and preparing for the fight with Spade Kingdom he was proud to say he was 100x stronger than he was years ago.

There were times he missed her dearly, someone he could run to and talk to about his royal problems or how training went but she was gone and all those feelings were kept hidden in his heart.

Although he was a happy kid he did have times where he fell into the dark. Like sometimes being the shadows of both his siblings.

"I miss her." He says sitting on the open field where they use to play, starring into the scenery and slightly cringing at himself. They were both children with imaginations never did he think he would ever be anyone's Knight but he was thankful it was to (Your Name).

Knitting his brows he wondered if she was doing alright, he remembered a time where he ate dinner at her house. Her parents were poor and they ate soups most night but he never had ill thoughts towards there life style.

Leopold remembers his younger self sitting next to (Your Name) as they ate potato soup and bread. The last of the bread her family could get. They offered him the biggest piece but he refused and let them have all the pieces. He finally realized how good of a life he was born into. As he drank the soup he remembers a feeling of warmth go down his stomach.

He realizes it was made with hard work and dedication, her family poured their heart and soul to support a roof on their heads. That night before he left home he hugged her tightly for a few moments longer as she questioned what was wrong with him. "I promise you won't have to suffer when we get older." he says seriously to her as she just laugh.

"Don't worry Leo, we were just born into different classes, some people have it worse than me."

Leopold smiles to himself as he made that silly promise that he wish to make come true, maybe in another lifetime it was worth trying. He couldn't even find out where she was at now.

"Leo let's go." Fuegoleon says from behind the younger boy, recently he would find him at the field whenever he had bad days or if he wanted to get out of the city. Fuegoleon wouldn't say much but take him home every night.

(Your Name) had returned to Clover Kingdom after a few years away, her parents making enough from farming to move back to the city. The place was still the same, nothing changed much besides some rebuilding from the damage that the elves had left behind.

"I wonder if I can see Leopold again?" She wondered looking at the capitol before going back into her family business.

"Why don't you go visit him?" Her mother said to her that night as she got ready for bed but she shook her head and remembered the brief memory of solid telling her they don't belong together.

"We are on a different level with royals, I was just a kid."

"Still, you guys were inseparable."

Walking into her bedroom she closed it slightly and laid in bed. Would Leopold still be the same boy he was years ago. People change and out grow sometimes. For all she knew he could have turned out snobby but that was not likely.

One early morning Leopold ran after a thief that he caught early as he was heading towards the fields. "Stop right there!" He yelled chasing the hooded figure as civilians were pushed onto the ground and caused a commotion around the city.

(Your Name) turned her head to find the hooded figure running towards her and the basket of bakery goods fell on the floor as she gasp and tried to get out of the grasp of the thief. "Let me go!" She shouted as she was lifted into the air with a rope around her neck.

"Let her go!" Leopold shouts from below with his fire spilling out of his hands, his face filled with anger.

"Leopold!" She yelled surprised to see him. He was tall, his hair more spiked and his tooth was growing out.

"(Your Name)?" He says confused, he didn't recognize her. She was a women now. "How many years has it been?"

The thief pulled the rope around her neck as she tried to get out of the grasp only to be dragged around as it choked her. "Help her!" Someone yelled from behind Leopold as he froze in place.

He trained for this, he had to show her how much of a man he became. He wasn't the little boy back then that couldn't fight back. Her cough echoed in his ears as tears fell from her face from not getting enough oxygen. "Fuck it."

Charging towards the hooded thief he threw a row of swirling fire as it went down a few yards and the place was fired up to where everyone had to evacuate.

The ropes burned off her neck as he grabbed her hand to safely. Only to grab the hooded figure and punched him onto the floor. Sitting over the thief he punched him one after another till his knuckle was bloody and bruised.

"Leopold stop! Your going to kill him!" (Your Name) echoed, pleading him to stop.

Focused on punishing the thief he was blacked out but was awake in his own world.

"You tried to kill (Your Name)."

"This thief tried to kill her."

"He tried to take her away!"

The thief was on the floor not moving as she touched his hand only to flinch back. Leopold body was burning with heat. He was angry. His eyes had murder written on them as she pulled his body back not caring how hot it was burning her.

"Leo!" She screamed as he looked back up to her.

"(Your Name)?" He says as she looked down at him with fear, glancing at the man on the floor not responding he lifted his fists to see them marked with red and purple.

"Stop, that's enough." She tells him as he looks around them. The place was covered in smoke and ashes. "You saved me it's enough."

Embarrassed he couldn't control his anger he yelled into his hands as she led him back to her place a few streets down.

After he settled down a bit, Leopold couldn't look into her eyes. "You must think lowly of me." He says with a whisper as she shakes her head. "No I don't, it's just scary how violent you got."

"It's only cause he was going to kill you! I had to protect you! Don't you know how it works here! The weak die unless they are strong enough and I wasn't going to lose you again!" He yelled as her eyes widen, Leopold had never yelled at her before.

(Your Name) had to understand they were older now, they weren't kids in a daydream anymore.

"I'm sorry." She says as he felt his stomach drop. Walking towards her he pulls her into a hug and dropped his head on her shoulder.

"I can't lose you again. You don't know what it's like to be the shadow of both my sibling and carrying the burden of the Crimson Lions when my brother was in a coma and when I had to fight the elves and train for the upcoming war with the Spade kingdom, it's just so much going on. I didn't have anyone to tell or go to."

(Your Name) wrapped her arms around his body and embraced him lovingly. He had grown up so much over the years she couldn't believe it.

"Leopold, I'm not scared of you, just shocked. I know you would never hurt anyone with out a reason. And I'm here now. I'm not leaving again." She rubbed his back as he hid his face by her neck. Like a baby cub he was yearning for warmth with the only place he found comfort. In her company.

"I'm no princess but I'm glad my knight showed up." She chuckled as he slightly smiled and embraced her tighter.

"I'll always be your knight and shining armor." Leopold says with a smile on his face.

(Author note: Leopold looks so good with the skip time! My baby ;-;)

#black clover #black clover oneshots #black clover x reader #black clover oneshot #black clover images #black clover image #black clover leopold #leopold vermillion #black clover fuegoleon #fuegoleon vermillion #yuki tabata

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firstofficertightpants · 4 years

Text

In Your Honor - Ch.1

Luz has wanted nothing more in life other than to join the ranks of the Emperor's Knights - the highest rank of royalty defenders, but after a disaster of a first impression with the bratty princess, she starts to wonder if it’s worth it.

“Ah, Bonesburough!” Eda lets out a deep breath as she drives the carriage carrying her wife and step daughter. “I haven’t been here since Lily and I were kids.” The streets were much larger and busier than the small human village they had just left. The sounds of merchants trying to sell their wares mixing with the busy talk of the locals. Bonesburough was the largest Elf city in all of the Boiling Isles and it was home to the largest royal elvish family, The Blights.

“Oh I'm so excited to see where you grew up!” Camilia places a kiss on Eda’s cheek, causing the witch to blush momentarily. Eda laughs as Camilia leans against her, the two sharing the drivers spot for the carriage. “This move is gonna be so good for us, Mi Alma, I can tell.”

“Well, getting a fancy new job in the castle helps with that.” Eda adds as they slowly make their way through the traffic. “That's my wife , a small town healer getting a gig at the castle. I'm so proud.” The witch glows with pride as it's now Camilia’s turn to blush.

The two continue flirting as Luz, their loving daughter, rides inside the carriage with all of their belongings from their old home. Moving to the city means a lot for a fourteen-year-old.

Especially when the town is home to The Emperor's Knights. Only the coolest and most badass knights make into their ranks and Luz has been training her WHOLE life to make it in. Magic doesn't come easy to humans, many can't do it at all, but thankfully with the help of her step mom she's been able to learn just enough spells to try out in the Tournament. Whoever can survive long enough in that tournament will, without a doubt, make it into the Emperor’s Knights.

Luz is also aiming to be the first human to enter their ranks. Even though her Aunt Lilth is one of their highest ranking officers, Luz wanted to get in the hard way. Through hard work and determination! Aaaand lots of reading, as she's doing now. Luz flips the page in her hefty book ‘Spells, and how to Cast them Safely’ while she writes notes on the parchment inside when suddenly, the carriage comes to an immediate stop - sending her and her book flying out of her seat.

“Come on out, Mija , we’re here!” She hears her mother's voice muffled through the thick wood of the wagon.

Luz pulls herself up off the ground and jumps out of the carriage door. She lets out a small gasp as she sees her new home, a pretty large building made of brick. It had to be at least two stories tall! So much larger than her childhood home.

“Holy cow! Mom this place is huuuuuge!” Luz excitedly runs around to the other side of the carriage where her mother and Eda were unstrapping their small luggage from the top of the wagon. “You can fit like..” She takes a small break to count on her fingers. “Ten of our old house in there.”

“Woah, slow down there kid.” Eda chuckles as she pulls down a suitcase. “Take a breath and help me out here so your mom can go unlock the house.”

Luz jumps at the chance to help Eda, taking her luggage and pet carrier, bouncing the whole way as they follow her mom up the few steps to their new home. It takes Camilia a second to figure out the lock but once she does Luz launches herself into the building. She sets the suitcase and pet carrier down by the stairs before running up them, an echoing warning from her mother following her. She finds so many rooms on the second floor. They have two bathrooms, a master bedroom and like three smaller bedrooms. So much more than her old house.

“Hey mom, can I pick my room?” Luz shouts down the stairs. She hears the sound of the rest of their luggage coming in by Eda’s magic but no response from her mom. She goes halfway down the stairs and finds her mom moving some of the boxes to other parts of the house. “Hey, mom! Can I pick out my room?” She repeats loud enough for her mom to hear.

“Ask your mother, dear.” Camilia doesn't even look up from the box she's sorting.

Luz huffs, walking down the rest of the stairs. Her mom gives her one stern look causing Luz to rush out the door before she could face her mother's wrath. She leaps down the few steps to Eda who has just magiced the last of the boxes inside. Luz puts on her most innocent face as she approaches her step mother.

“Heeey, Eda? Can I pick my own room?” She gives Eda her most powerful puppy eyes, batting her eyelashes like she's never done anything wrong in her life. Eda looks down at her, clearly unamused, but eventually breaks and sighs.

“Sure thing, kiddo. But the master bedroom belongs to me and your mom, okay?” The owl witch pats Luz on the head before returning her attention to the carriage.

Luz practically runs back inside, grabbing her luggage and pet carrier, before sprinting up the stairs. She finds the one room with the best view of the castle and sets her stuff down. She bends down to open the pet carrier, looking inside to check on her familiar.

“King, wake up! We’re here.” She reaches in and pats his bone head, waking the small demon. “I'm surprised you slept the whole way!” King stretched and yawns before walking out of the carrier, dragging his small stuffed bunny with him.

“I'm the King of Demons, Luz, no small carriage ride will keep me from my afternoon nap.” The bone demon speaks, though his mouth doesn't move. He does small circles around the room before finding a corner and dropping his bunny rabbit. “Nice place we got here Luz, much larger than our old room.”

“I know!” Luz squeals. “Wait until you see the rest of the hou--”

“Mija! Your Aunt Lilith is here, come say hi!” Luz gets interrupted by her mom from downstairs. The sound of the door closing echoing through the house followed by the soft sounds of her aunt and mothers talking.

“Come on King.” Luz picks up her familiar before heading down the stairs. She sets King down at the bottom before jumping into her aunt's arms. “Aunty Lily!” She hugs the older witch tightly before letting go.

“Hello Luz.” Lilith greets her niece with a pat on the head. “I brought you a house warming gift.” She pulls out a rolled parchment and hands it over to the younger witch in training.

“Oh my god, thank you Auntie.” Luz unrolls the parchment to reveal a poster for the Emperor’s Knights and practically crushes her aunt in another hug. “I'm going to put this up right now!”

Lilith waves as Luz runs back up the stairs, King struggling up the steps after her, before turning to her sister-in-law.

“Are you prepared for tomorrow?” her voice carries a tinge of concern as she watches Camilia unpack another box. The human woman sets down another stack of plates before standing and turning to Lilith.

“I mean, how ready can I be?” She laughs nervously. Camilia was about to be the only human to work in the castle. A task that carried so much stress to be the best, as many Elves looked down on Humans for having shorter lives and no magical talent.

“If anyone tries to say something, I’ll just challenge them to a witch's duel.” Eda says proudly as her sister looks at her with doubt.

“You won't be able to stick around every day she works, Edalyn.” Lilith points out. “Especially since you personally refused the Kings request to join the Emperor’s Knights with me.”

Eda grumbles a reply, walking off towards the kitchen with a stack of plates. The sounds of the porcelain plates clinking together drifts softly from the entryway. Lilith lets out a soft sigh before returning her attention to Camilia.

“I’ll be there tomorrow so if anything happens, please reach out.” She smiles at her sister-in-law.

“Of course.” Camilia gives Lilith a pat on the shoulder before seeing her out with the promise of seeing her tomorrow.

With that taken care of, Camilia and Eda spend the rest of the night unpacking and helping Luz set up her new room. The family was full with excitement for the days to come.

The next morning Luz wakes up to a scrying call. Her mother's voice comes through the small mirror she uses for calling, and Luz fumbles out of bed as she reaches for the mirror on her nightstand.

“Mija? Mija! Luz!! Darn it girl, wake up.” Camilia called through the compact.

“Sorry mom, I guess I was just really tired from the move.” Luz yawned as she held up the compact mirror.

“You need to start getting up earlier if you want to continue training with Eda.” Camilia tsks as her daughter sets the mirror down to try and fix her hair in her vanity mirror.

“I know mami but is there a real reason you called me?” Luz does a double finger gun in the vanity mirror, confirming that her hair is exactly how she wants it, before picking the compact one back up.

“Yes, your Auntie Lilith forgot her lunch today.” Camilia explains. “Can you bring her some food from home?”

“An excuse to see the castle up close? Of course I will.” Luz smiles. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She bids her mom farewell before getting ready for the day and bounding down the stairs.

Luz finds Eda sitting at the dining room table, King curled up on her lap as he reads the daily paper. Sitting in front of her is a perfectly wrapped up lunch, the handkerchief cover made with a cute raven pattern.

“Is that...?” Luz points to the lunch as Eda lowers her paper.

“Yeah, your mom already called me about it but I’m not technically allowed in the castle, so you have to take it.” Eda explains with a rather bored tone. “Lilith already told the guards to let you in so just tell them you're her niece.”

“Okay! See you later, Ma.” Luz gives Eda a quick kiss to the head, and ruffles Kings fur, before heading out the door.

The path to the castle was long but thankfully easy to follow. It was the only path wide enough for two carriages to head down side by side. Luz began her long walk to the castle, buzzing with excitement of finally getting to see the building in person.

Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d even make a new friend.

#toh #the owl house #lumity #amity blight #luz noceda #camilia noceda #edalyn clawthorne #does eda and camilia have a ship name?#eda x camilia #king #king of demons #king toh #my writing #lilith clawthorne #alternate universe #knights au #in your honor

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uncpanda · 4 years

Text

Reconciliation- Part 2

Part 1

You stare at your husband, not quite believing the words that just came out of his mouth. You take a moment to think before very calmly saying, “I want you to think very carefully about what you just told me. Then I want you to think about what you know about me. Finally, I want you to consider the possibility of me doing what you just stated.”

Legolas grins, “You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

“If your father moves us to the Mirkwood like he wants, I’ll be more stunning than you elves.”

Legolas’ eyes go to the guards behind you, and he offers you his arm, “Let us walk.”

You walk with his father’s guards behind you, before you say, “Gondor is our home. It is the city we defended. Our friends are here.”

Your husband nods, “They are, but my father has put Estel in a difficult place. He’s offered him a very lucrative trade plan, if he asks us to return to Mirkwood.”

You shake your head, “Your father is a snake. And Aragorn would never ask us to leave.”

Legolas nods, “Indeed he wouldn’t. He wasn’t the one to tell me of this either, it was Gimli. He overheard the conversation.”

The two of you stop near the trees, and you sit together on the grass, “I won’t last there Legolas. I can not be under speculation and watch all day every day. I’ve never done well with orders. You know this.”

He laughs, “Better than most, but I also believe we should do right by Gondor.”

You nod, and then you grin, “We could go to the Shire. I’m sure the hobbits would love to have us.”

“I’m sure they would, but you and I know that is not an option. We would bring too much danger to their doors. In Gondor or the Mirkwood we are safe. Our child is safe. And they are a prince or princess of the Mirkwood.

You think for a moment, “We could run to the middle of nowhere, or hide with Gimli and the dwarves. Your father wouldn’t dare go there.”

He stares at you, and you sigh. “Could we go to one of the other elven settlements?”

He shakes his head, “They are beginning to sail. Only my father’s kingdom wishes to remain for now.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “I’ll want to bring our things.”

Legolas nods, and kisses your forehead, “Of course my love.”

You scowl, “Let’s head back and see our king.”

It’s an effort for you to stand up, and before Legolas can help you, there are three guards there to assist you. Legolas sighs as you shoot him the evil eye. When you reach the door of your home, your lips purse as Legolas opens the door. His father is there, along with several elleths who have food waiting. Everyone smiles at you, and you decide you are not in the mood for this.

You announce, “I’m taking a nap,” and head into the bedroom.

Thranduil stares at his son, “Have the two of you reconsidered my offer.”

Legolas sighs, “You are putting too much strain on her. She has no desire to leave our home, and yet now she must.”

“This isn’t a home, it is a hovel. You are the crown prince of the Mirkwood. Your child is royalty, they should grow up in their home.”

“She doesn’t like being forced to conform. She’s been ruled by regulations her entire life. Saruman made sure of that. She likes her freedom, just as much as I do.”

Legolas watches as his father settles back down on the couch, “Children do not allow freedom for many years. This is in the best interest of your family. Trust me, my son.”

Legolas considers his father’s face for a moment. He knows what lurks beneath the facade, burned flesh curesty of a dragon. While his father’s fear isn’t visible to anyone else Legolas recognizes it. Knows that he is scared of losing a connection to his family. He also knows how much you hate being under a constant watch, but the choice is made, and he knows this reconciliation is only going to get worse before it gets better.

In the bedroom, a piece of your heart breaks as your child kicks inside of your womb. You caress it gently, and you blame the pregnancy for any tears that may fall. You were the only female Istari. Your color had been green, and you were the youngest. Saruman had kept you close for many years, not letting you stray from his side. It had been Gandalf who had brought you books and word of the outside world. And it had been Gladriel who had convinced him that your place was in the world.

You had reaslished every moment of freedom. You had learned to fight among the elves, and traveled the world and learned the languages. And when the time to fight had come, you had joined Gandalf. And then you had fallen in love with Legolas.

Your choice to marry and have a family had been your choice. A choice you were happy for. But, to be forced back under surveillance felt as though every choice was being taken away from you. Your child kicked again, and though you knew your husband to be correct about safety, you had no desire to leave your home.

#legolas #legolas greenleaf #legolas fanfiction #legolas imagine #legolas x reader #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings #lord of the rings reader insert #Thranduil #mirkwood #gondor #lotr #lotr reader inser #lotr imagine #legolas greenleaf x reader #legolas greenleaf imagine

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rosequartzwriting · 4 years

Text

With The Malfoys

Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Description: You had been staying with your boyfriend’s family, the Malfoys, before the summer break is over. You also go with them on a trip to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies for the new year. Draco comforts your insecurity.

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Originally posted on Qutoev / TRANS LIVES MATTER / I really like this one, wrote it when I was on a Draco high a few years ago haha. Also more Draco cause he’s popular right now. (I’m not into Draco anymore but these exist)

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

You began to stir in your sleep when someone started knocking on the guest bedroom door. The sun shining in your eyes from the large windows didn’t help at all. You heard the door open and small footsteps follow behind.

“Lady (Y/N)? You’ve requested for me to wake you up at this hour.”

The light voice of the small house elf fully woke you up. You sat up and rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. “Yes, thank you Sammi.”

“Also, Mrs. Malfoy has invited you for morning tea. And an owl came this morning for you.” The little house elf said as she began to flatten out the sheets on your large guest bed. She had handed you a letter closed with a familiar seal. You didn’t hesitate to rip it open read it.

Hope you’re doing well darling,

It does feel weird having you be gone from the house two weeks early, but I assume everything is fine over there. I received a letter from Lucius and he says he enjoys having you at the Manor, and that he has noticed how happy you make his son. He says he wants you back for your Christmas break, he invited me and your father as well. Let me know and we’ll hopefully see you for Christmas over there. I hope you are remembering your manners over there! Treat everyone well and don’t forget to go to Diagon Alley to get your stuff for school. And write me back if you can!

See you soon, I love you

Signed

-Your mother

You were staying at Malfoy Manor for the last two weeks of summer break. Despite them being controversial both at school and in wizarding world in general, you loved Draco’s family. They adored you and they insisted that you stay with them before the next school year started.

The letter from your mother made you happy, but also semi embarrassed you. You have often received positive things from both your and Draco’s parents that you were dating. It took a while for his father to warm up to you, but his mother loved you instantly. And your parents adored Draco. All four of them never let you forget how perfect they thought you were.

You got up and Sammi the house elf made your bed behind you. Over the past few days, she sort of became your personal house elf since she was assigned to you so much. You showed her nothing but kindness and compassion. It was nice to have someone like her with you all throughout your stay.

You got ready in the bathroom and dressed into a clean outfit. A simple black dress and some black heel boots. You found yourself dressing a bit more formal when with the Malfoys, you grew to like it (and you felt good wearing nice dresses).

You came back into your room to find Sammi tidying it up a bit. She worked really hard by what you have seen her do.

“I appreciate your company, Sammi.”

She turned to you and her huge eyes lit up. “No one has ever been as kind to me as you, Lady (Y/N)!” Her speech was not like other house elves, not referring to herself in third person.

“It’s nothing don’t worry.” You waved it off. “Also I told you that you don’t have to call me ‘lady’.”

“Are you sure? I’m too used to being so formal to our guests."

You nodded and she smiled. You walked over to your bedside table and picked up your wand to place in the belt of your dress.

“But I quite like the sound of ‘lady (Y/N)’!” Sammi beamed, dusting a nearby shelf.

“There’s no need, really.” You replied, picking up the glass of water next to where your wand was and taking a sip.

“But really…” She paused. “Maybe someday I’ll be calling you Mrs. Malfoy.”

You choked and water went down the wrong way.

“I honestly do hope you and Master Draco get married. Maybe it will happen once you both graduate from Hogwarts. Oh, a house elf can only dream.” And with that she left your room, leaving you a coughing and blushing mess.

~~~~

Descending the main staircase, you made your way towards the drawing room where Narcissa Malfoy often invited you to have tea in the morning. You knew where you were going now, the manor had become familiar dispute its size. The first few days you always found yourself lost in the giant mansion, there were too many rooms to explore and curiosity took over plenty of times.

“Good morning, darling.” Narcissa greeted you while using her wand to pour you tea.

“Morning, Narcissa.” She had insisted that you call her by her first name.

“Did you get your letter? Who was it from?”

You sat down in the chair across from hers, it was soft and large. Taking your tea, you curled up on the chair. “The letter was from my mother.”

She smiled into her tea cup. “Oh (your mother’s name), I do miss her. Maybe she and your father should join us for Christmas…oh has Lucius or Draco mentioned that to you yet?”

“They hadn’t told me, but mum mentioned it in her letter. She’d love to come I’m sure.”

“I hope they do.” Narcissa smiled. “I’m sure if you asked them you all could join us.”

“I can ask them. I should write them back.”

Narcissa was already on it, using her magic to hand you a piece of parchment and a quill with ink already. You thanked her and began a letter back to your mother, writing on top of a book on your lap. Neutral peaceful silence fell in the room, Narcissa now petting a cat while you wrote to your mother and drank your tea. While writing, the large doors to the room opened and you wondered who had entered.

"Morning, Princess."

It was Draco. You felt his presence over your shoulder so you scooted over in your chair for him to sit. He did so, plopping down and slinging his arm around you.

"Morning mother." He smiled innocently, she was eyeing him for not acknowledging her earlier along with you. He then glanced down at you , "Whats this?"

"Mum wrote me this morning, replying back." You answered, then raising your quill to tickle his face for a split second just to bug him.

“Oh Draco, what do you think about the (L/N)s joining us for Christmas this year?” His mother asked him, chiming in about the letter.

"That would be great." He answered but he sounded unsure, then he continued which explained it, "but...do we want them near the other people we usually invite to our Christmas parties?"

"What do you mean?" She raised an eyebrow.

He turned to you. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to meet my aunt Bella, (Y/N).”

“Do not speak of your aunt like that Draco.” Narcissa scoffed. “But...it is true that my sister is a little…uh”

“Insane?” Draco suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Peculiar.” She corrected while eyeing her son.

"I'm sure me and my parents will survive a party here." You laughed.

~~~~

“Why is it that whenever I set foot in Diagon Alley, I instantly smell mudbloods?”

You slapped him on the shoulder. “Draco!”

“What? It’s kinda true.” This told you that he was trying to make a joke, but you just rolled your eyes.

You, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa were now walking down the street in Diagon Alley to get the things on your list for your next year at Hogwarts.

Once you got to a populated area, you felt eyes staring at you and the Malfoys. You instantly grew self conscious. You wrapped your arms around yourself and suddenly became aware of how heavy your footsteps sounded with the heels. Did you look like a snob to them? Too dramatic or over the top? Actually...do people think that you’re a Death Eater?

Draco noticed that you had become fidgety and nervous. He put it together and saw that you didn’t like the stares. He reached out and gently grabbed your hand to hold it.

“It’s okay, darling.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him protectively. “Keep that head held high. They’re just jealous that you’re so beautiful.”

You blushed and chuckled under your breath. Soon you found a small push of confidence, head up and smiling.

Yeah that’s right, I’m with the Malfoys! I probably look really good right now.

One of the first stops was Flourish and Blotts, where you needed to get the new textbooks for your classes. Draco’s parents had wandered to speak with another pure blood family that was on the other side of the shop, while you and Draco looked for textbooks. You scanned the shelves for a copy of Advanced Potion-making, and you felt Draco looming over your shoulder as he helped you look.

Then something caught your attention and you listened carefully. There was a group talking somewhere, and you swear you heard them mutter Malfoy and (L/N). Draco was busy mumbling to himself the book titles as he browsed the shelves, while you listened. It clicked in your head and the voices were suddenly recognizable.

You didn’t look in their direction and tried to act casual. Draco hadn’t noticed yet, so you slapped him lightly to get his attention.

“Draco.” You whispered.

He kept talking to himself, “Scamander? What an unfortunate surname to have...”

You rolled your eyes, “Draco!”

“What?”

“Shh! Listen.”

He did, then he understood what you meant. The two of you listened into the conversation while still trying to look like you were busy.

“Also why do they always dress like that? Are they going to a party?”

“Those heels (L/N) is wearing look really uncomfortable.”

“I’m surprised they’re still together. How long has it been?”

“A few years now.”

“Longer than most people at Hogwarts.”

“I don’t care, it’s still disgusting.”

“Is she with him just because he’s rich?”

“Maybe.”

"Maybe they've been arranged, like an arranged marriage."

"I wouldn't be surprised, not many pure blood families to keep the Malfoy family completely pure."

“They look like they’re plotting something…”

“Just by looking at books?”

“They always look like they’re up to no good.”

“Probably been bowing to You-Know-Who all summer.”

Draco had enough and he spoke up, “You’re really bad at being quiet, Potter.”

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger all stopped talking, and turned to you and Draco with shocked faces. A smirk pulled at your lips, and you assumed your boyfriend was doing the same, the menacing smiles of a perfect Slytherin duo and couple.

You followed Draco as he approached the trio, knowing that all hell was about to break loose. But you were here for it. You stood there, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Draco and Harry have a standoff.

While the boys were nagging at each other, you watched with amusement. You quickly glanced to the side and looked at the bookshelf. “Oh look, here they are!” You took two copies of Advanced Potion-making off the shelf, which was right beside Granger. Somehow this irritated her.

“Oh by the way.” You started. “I’m not with him just because he’s rich,” You did your best intentionally annoying Hermione Granger impression. “and we weren't arranged. Pfff. Shame on you, mudblood.”

Alright maybe that was a little low for you to stoop down to, but what she said really got on your nerves so you said the first insult you thought of to call her.

The tension created by the mutual hatred on both sides caused a few other shoppers to stop and watch for at least one second. Draco was in the process of defending his last name from association with the dark arts, and it was amusing to you that he could piss off Harry just by barely opening his mouth.

“And I’d like to see you walk in these.” You showed off your heeled shoes to Granger which you noticed bugged her. “You’d probably trip and break your ankle in one step.”

Then you both went off, mirroring Draco and Harry. It could have gone on for much longer, but a large figure that appeared made the three Gryffindors tense and freeze.

“I really hope these blood traitors aren't giving you two any trouble.” Lucius’ voice rang out, him now standing behind you both with his wife.

“They were speaking negatively about us.” You stated with irritation, but with a hint of a smug smile.

Narcissa put her hands on her son’s shoulders protectively. "Forget them, dears. They are not worth your time."

"You're right mother, they're not at all." Draco held his nose in the air and began to walk off with Narcissa.

Lucius glared at the three, “Do not ever disrespect my future daughter-in-law. Come along, (Y/N).” The man lead you away from them, you still holding the textbooks you and Draco needed.

That comment made you blush, but it put a smile on your face once you saw the trio’s expressions; in some state of disbelief and jaws slightly slack. So you followed Lucius with your head held high.

~~~~

It was now September first, and the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave any minute now, but Narcissa’s bone crushing hug was preventing you from getting on the train.

“Mum, let her go.” Draco rolled his eyes and tried to pry his mother’s arms off of you.

She eventually did, but took your shoulders to look at you, "You watch over him, alright?"

"I will." You laughed.

Draco grabbed you hand and you both jumped onto the train just as it was leaving. You looked back and waved to his parents.

“We love you! Stay out of trouble!” His mother called one last time before they were out of sight.

"Why does mum have to be so embarrassing sometimes..." Draco mumbled under his breath as he pulled you along the hall to find an empty car.

"Because it's her job to embarrass you." You giggled, and he shook his head.

Once you found an empty car and settled in, you both sat down for the long train ride. You leaned your head on Draco's shoulder, and he let out a breath of amusement. You knew he was smirking, with content.

"You can take a nap if you want, darling." Draco chuckled, seeing how comfortable you have become now cuddling up to him.

"I could~" You sighed, now wrapping your arms around his torso, "wake me up when we get there..."

Draco smiled, placing one hand around your waist and the other on top of one of yours. He kissed your temple, and made a mental note that if Crabbe and Goyle wanted to share a car with you both, he wouldn't let them wake you.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin #slytherin reader #draco malfoy x you #malfoy x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert #tom felton #draco #harry potter

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nastybuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

I See Fire

Pairings: Geralt x Reader

Summary: Geralt reunites with a Mage he thought was nothing more than a distant memory, but their chemistry is hardly forgotten. When a new threat arrives in Cintra, you fight for a kingdom you do not know, and you fall for a man who you may not be able to have. You’re forced to decide between what you want and what you need.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Language, Violence, Injuries, Fluff

Word Count: 4K

A/n: So many posts guys! I’m feeling pretty good, I hope it lasts! Enjoy this little thing which is a sequel to my other fic By The Fire

~*~

You bound through the trees effortlessly, bouncing from branch to branch with the grace of, well, an elf.

Geralt simply watches from his seat upon Roach, smiling slightly to himself. Jaskier has taken it upon himself to find a comfortable position upon your own beautiful white mare, chattering away about his time away from Geralt.

"Where are we heading?" You ask, hanging onto a branch with one arm and smiling at the two men. Geralt huffs out a breath of air and smiles gently at you before shaking his head. "Cintra." You nod slowly, mulling over his words. "And what, might I ask, awaits us in Cintra?"

Jaskier looks between the two of you, brows drawn together.

"Ciri. Geralt's child of Surprise? He likes to visit her as often as possible. And I'm sure our impromptu visit to Cintra has nothing to do with the fact that a certain mage is said to be in the kingdom." You frown at his words and Geralt glares at him.

"A mage? Who? Why is she of importance to us?"

"To us? No, not us. To Geralt and his cock, yes." You nod slowly, looking at Geralt for confirmation. The way he avoids your eyes is confirmation enough and you pull yourself back into the trees. Geralt shoots Jaskier a glare then climbs off of Roach, following the soft whoosh of you climbing the trees.

"(Y/n). Come here." You watch as he looks around for you, pondering what you're going to do. You decide to hear him out, after all, it's not like the two of you are married.

You drop down from the trees, landing with a soft thud on the grass.

"Yes, Geralt?" He jumps slightly then shakes his head, "damn elves." You can't help but smile at that.

"Yennefer, the Mage, she's a part of my past. Jaskier knows not what he speaks about, this you already know." You nod. In the few months that you've been travelling with Geralt, you've learned that the Bard can't exactly be trusted to tell the truth. And when he joined the two of you only two weeks ago... you experienced his stretches of the truth firsthand.

"Yennefer is my past, and you are my future." You smile and take his hands in yours.

"I trust you, Geralt." He kisses the scarring on your left ear then sighs.

"We should continue if we want to get to Cintra by nightfall." You nod and press a soft kiss to his cheek before turning around and jumping into the nearest tree.

"Damn elves," he whispers again, shaking his head with a smile.

~*~

"Geralt!" A young girl exclaims, running towards the Witcher before he's even finished getting roach comfortable in the Palace stables.

He spins around, hugging the small girl tight to his chest. You watch from behind your horse, intrigued by Geralt's blatant display of affection.

"Ciri! I've missed you." She giggles and pulls away from him, her piercing eyes finding yours immediately.

"Who's she?" She asks, walking towards you. Geralt smiles softly, a look you don't see often enough, and follows Ciri towards you.

"This is (Y/n)." You bow your head to the princess, a small smile on your face.

"Your highness. I've heard nothing but good things about you." She smiles and looks over her shoulder at Geralt.

"She's an elf?" She asks, eyes glued to your ears. Geralt nods then crouches down in front of the young princess. "But we cannot go advertising her heritage. There are still many people who wish to do harm to the elves." Ciri nods, looking at you with curious wide eyes.

"Geralt!" You step backwards as an older man walks forwards, smiling at The Witcher.

"Mousesack. It's been too long," Geralt says, voice monotone as ever. The druid smiles and hugs his friend.

"Come to visit the princess, have we?" He nods, hand resting on Cirilla's shoulder. "I'm sure that's not your sole purpose for visiting, now is it? You've heard that Yennefer is here, haven't you?" There's that name again. You can't help the anger that bubbles in the pit of your stomach.

Flipping your hood up, you grab your small pack off of your mare's side and walk out of the stable, heading towards the gate to the city.

"(Y/n)!" Jaskier catches up to you in an instant, glancing at your face. "What's wrong?" You shake your head and flash him a smile. "I'm simply scoping the area. I've never been to Cintra before. Perhaps you'd be willing to show me all the great city has to offer?" He smiles brightly and begins talking about his many adventures in Cintra. As the two of you walk, Geralt stares after you with furrowed brows.

"What is it, Geralt?" Mousesack asks. Geralt simply shakes his head and walks with the druid and Cirilla into the Palace.

~*~

"(Y/n) there's to be a feast for the Queen's return! Are you not joining?" You snort at Jaskier, shaking your head as the two of you walk through the forest towards the Palace.

"And have any one of the knights in there behead me for the fun of it? I think I'll pass, Jaskier." He sighs heavily and shakes his head.

"Can you at least sulk in the Palace? Or somewhere close by? Maybe even just stand in the corner of the room and watch. I'm going to be singing. Don't you want to support your greatest friend?" You look at him with an amused glint in your eyes and he laughs, happy that he got you to smile genuinely.

"Maybe. But I don't want to be just standing alone in the corner all night." He shrugs, elbowing you in the ribs, "maybe Geralt will come and spend time with you?" You shake your head with a chuckle. "No, he has his mage. I wouldn't want to impose." Jaskier sighs and shakes his head. "You know Geralt is head over heels for you. He and Yennefer have a past, yes. But you and he... you have a future." You shake your head with a scoff. "Geralt and I could never have anything. I'm an elf, he's a Witcher. Do Witcher's even have feelings?"

"This one does. I can see it when he looks at you. He does care for you. He might not show it in the best way, but he does care for you. He's not good with feelings. He likes to play into the whole stereotype of Witcher's not having any feelings."

"Fine. I'll join you. But only for a short amount of time."

~*~

Joining the Bard, you decide, is the worst decision you've ever made.

You're standing awkwardly near the doors, hair framing your face and covering your ears and hand twitching the daggers strapped to your thigh.

Upon Jaskier's assistance, you're wearing a dark grey dress that falls to your feet and drags a tad when you walk. The waist is cinched by a thick silver belt, and a couple of small charms dangle from the waist. It's a beautiful gown, but far too impractical for your liking.

You watch as Jaskier performs for the knights, lords, and other noblemen in the room, all laughing drunkenly while they wait for the Queen's celebration to truly start.

You observe the crowd through skeptical eyes, watching for any hostile move.

One thing that quickly catches your attention is the striking purple eyes of a beautiful woman. Although her beauty is stunning, it's the arm around her waist that gets your attention. Geralt holds the woman close to his body, a half-smile on his face as she tells him something.

He looks at her with admiration in his eyes, something you've hardly ever seen in the amber eyes of the Witcher.

He leans down, nose brushing over the shell of her ear, then whispers something that has her eyes widening for a moment before a sly smile spreads on her face.

Deciding that you've seen plenty, you make your way out of the throne room without being spotted and head to Jaskier's bedroom to change back into your practical clothing.

You spend the rest of the evening in the stables with your horse and Roach, finding comfort in the presence of the animals.

The moon rises high above you and guests slowly trickle out of the Palace as the party dies down. You decide that you've sulked for long enough and square your shoulders, heading into the Palace to congratulate Jaskier on what was probably an incredible performance.

As you're heading down the long corridor where the guests are staying for the night, you pick up the familiar deep voice of Geralt.

Chancing a glance over your shoulder, you feel your heart fall into your stomach at the sight before you. Geralt and who you're assuming is Yennefer, locked in a tight intimate embrace, her body naked and pressed against his as he pushes the door shut. You pull in a shuddering breath then continue on your way, keeping feelings locked inside of yourself as you seek out your one true friend.

~*~

"We're under attack!" Someone shouts, rousing you from your light slumber. Jaskier bolts upright, looking around frantically as you grab your bow and a quiver of arrows, along with your sword.

"(Y/n) what's happening?!" He asks. You look over at him with your eyebrows raised. "Just how am I supposed to know?" He nods, lips pursed slightly. You roll your eyes and load your bow then swing open the door to the room. Your eyes pinpoint the dark colours of Nilfgaurd, an obvious enemy of Cintra, and you let the arrow fly from your bow.

It lodges itself in the neck of one of the knights and the surrounding men turn to you.

"Stay hidden, Jaskier," you whisper, loosing another arrow that finds its mark with ease. The Bard hides underneath the bed and you fight the urge to roll your eyes, Firing arrow after arrow at the men that storm the hallway.

A door further down flies open and Geralt and Yennefer come out, swords drawn and ready for the battle that awaits.

Anger boils your blood but you otherwise ignore the pair, aiming and firing and taking down man after man.

When you run out of arrows, you join the Witcher and the Mage in the hallway, sword held steady in your dominant hand. You fight and you fight hard, slitting throats and puncturing stomachs, fury fueling you as you catch another glimpse of Yennefer.

She and Geralt fight gracefully together, as if they've been doing this for centuries, and that's when it dawns on you that that may be the case. They've been doing this for years before you came along and they very well may be doing this years after you're gone. You're nothing more than a temporary fixation.

That idea is only solidified when Geralt grabs Yennefer by the arm and pulls her into a searing kiss, the intimacy fueling their power and amplifying it until it knocks down all the men in the hallway, leaving the three of you standing.

Jaskier hesitantly peaks out of the room, his eyes widening when he sees the two of them then softening when he turns to look at you. You spin on your heel and walk to the other end of the hallway, mind made up.

You're going to leave. And you never plan on seeing the Witcher again.

"(Y/n)!" Jaskier calls, running after you. You don't slow, in fact, you move faster, dashing through hallways and down a flight of stairs.

"(Y/n) Wait! At least let me give you a proper farewell!" You stop at the base of the stairs, chest heaving with the emotions fighting to escape.

"Why? Why lead me on the way he did?" You ask softly, eyes wet with tears as you look up at the Bard. He slows, the pain in your voice making his heart break.

"I don't know (Y/n). But maybe we should let him explain himself. He may have a very goo-" "No! I will not hear another word out of his mouth. He thinks himself above the humans when he really is no better. He's no less of a monster than they are," you spit, eyes locking onto a movement behind the Bard's shoulder. You meet the purple eyes of Yennefer, your rage only getting more intense. You turn on your heel and wipe a splotch of blood off of your forehead, heading towards the intense sound of fighting.

"(Y/n) please!" Jaskier shouts. You ignore him, so caught up in your racing thoughts that you don't notice the men hiding in the shadows until the three of them jump at you.

Your shoulder catches the swipe of a dagger and you gnash your teeth together, fighting harder against the three of them. You successfully get two of them to the ground, only for the third to kick you in the stomach. You collapse onto the floor, the wound in your shoulder gushing blood around the knife embedded there. The man towers over you, a sinister smirk on his face.

"Well well. An Elf. Thought you were extinct." You take a deep breath, rip the knife out of your shoulder, then swipe at the back of his ankles. He falls to the ground with a yell of pain and you flick your wrist, the dagger silencing his cries as it pierces his chest.

You push yourself to your knees, pain flaring through your whole body at the effort. You're suddenly overtaken by immense heat, your vision blurring as you force yourself to stand upright.

"Jaskier..." You stumble towards him, falling into his arms as everything starts to fade to black.

You collapse against the Bard and he starts to panic immediately.

"Geralt!" He cries, slowly lowering you to the floor to inspect your wound. You've gotten worse wounds and never been fazed, but the way you so quickly crumpled to the ground has his heart racing in his chest.

"Geralt!" He repeats, jumping when the Witcher appears beside him, his amber eyes widening when he sees the state of you on the ground.

"What happened?" He asks gruffly, two fingers pressed to your pulse point. It's weak but fast.

"She got... her shoulder. But..." Geralt pulls your tunic down and feels fear pierce his heart. The wound is gushing blood, but worse than that, a dark blackness is spreading through your veins from the gash.

"Poison," he whispers, eyes flashing up to your face. You're covered in a light sheen of sweat, eyelids fluttering rapidly.

"Yen!" Geralt calls, desperation in his voice. The mage presses two fingers to your forehead and closes her eyes, frowning for a moment before standing and walking to the man with the dagger in his chest. She pulls it from him and wipes the blood on his corpse before wrinkling her nose.

"This is dark magic. Not only poison but a curse as well. This is something even I cannot heal." Geralt grinds his teeth together.

"So we just let her die?!" Jaskier demands, looking between the Mage and the Witcher. Geralt flares his nostrils and shakes his head, scooping you up in his arms and hurrying out of the Palace.

"Geralt, there is no place you can go where they can heal her. Her fate has been sealed," Yennefer says sadly, following him towards the stables.

"No. There is one place. Although I cannot guarantee they'll accept us." Jaskier furrows his brows for a moment then shakes his head.

"No. If they don't kill us then she will for bringing her there." Geralt simply hums, carefully situating you on Roach's saddle before hoisting himself up then tugging you so your back is against his chest, legs straddling the horse.

"Get on her horse. We don't have much time."

"Where are you going?" Yennefer demands, looking up at the Witcher with an unreadable expression on her face.

"There is only one race who's magic is strong enough to eradicate dark magic." Realization sets in and Yennefer shakes her head.

"A banished Elf won't be helped." Geralt ignores the comment and with a light nudge to the ribs, Roach takes off running, Jaskier following close behind on your horse.

~*~

Your body is incredibly stiff. That's the very first thing you notice. The next thing you notice is the dry air that's burning your nose with every inhale.

You open your eyes slowly, wincing against the yellow light pouring into the room. You keep your breath steady as your eyes scan the room, the rocky walls familiar in the worst way. Your stomach does a flip and you glance to your left, every nerve in your body on edge as you see the man that stands there.

"You almost died. Poisoned and cursed with dark magic." You say nothing, instead, you push yourself into a seated position, a dull ache throbbing from your shoulder.

"Why am I here?" You ask softly, looking around.

"You got stabbed with a blade that was enchanted. You were brought here to be healed." You shake your head. "At what cost?"

The man cocks his head to the side in confusion.

You kick your legs over the side of the hard bed, ignoring the way your shoulder burns.

"You may have the Bard fooled, you might even have the Elves fooled, but you cannot fool me. What is it you want, Filavandrel?"

He pushes off the wall, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes linger on your scarred ear.

"When you left, I searched for you. I admit I was harsh in my words, but I never thought... I never truly thought you'd leave for as long as you did. You branded yourself as the 'Princess without a home', but you've always had a home. You could've come back." You scoff and shake your head, looking East of his eyes.

"You told me that if I left I would never be welcomed back. That I wouldn't have a place here anymore. What did you expect? You banished me, cut me off from my only family, my home." He sighs and steps towards you, his blue eyes glossy.

"I was harsh, I said things that I didn't mean and I pushed away my only family. But you're here now, you're back, and you will always have a place here, with your people. They need you and they've missed you. I've missed you. So if you'll accept my offer, you'll have a place here, with your people." You look down at the ground, memories of why you're here coming back to you.

Your eyes flash around the room again, more thoroughly this time, and Filavandrel smiles knowingly.

"He's waiting outside, along with the Bard. They've been bickering for the past two days." Your eyebrows raise. "Two days?" You question softly. He nods and heads towards the door.

"I do not wish to see him," you say suddenly. Your brother smiles sadly and looks down.

"He cares deeply about you, that much even I can see." You scoff and shake your head.

"I'd like to be alone, please. I need time to think." He nods and grants you your privacy. It's shattered moments later, however, by the door opening and a large figure entering.

"You're awake," is all he says.

"Yes, Geralt. I'm awake. Now that you've seen for yourself, you may leave." He shakes his head, eyes cast downwards.

"I'm aware of how my actions may have been perceived, but-" "No, Geralt! That's not how you apologize! You told me I had nothing to worry about when it came to Yennefer. I was told that she was nothing more than something of the past, and yet you went with her to the celebration, you were in her chambers, no doubt getting your cock wet. You should've told me, at the very least."

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, seeming frustrated.

"What Yennefer and I had... it was something like I never experienced before. Yennefer was a reminder of simpler times. Times when relationships were nothing more than physical touches. But you? You've complicated things. Because with you it's far more than simply physical intimacy. You've carved a place in my heart, as much as it pains me to admit. You've become a piece of me. One that is not easily replaced."

"It didn't seem that way," you whisper, flashes of him and Yennefer together plague your mind and you wince slightly.

He exhales and you can almost hear the internal battle before he finally speaks. "You... frighten me." This confession shocks you into looking at him. His eyes are trained on the floor, brows drawn together and hands clenched into fists at his sides as if it physically pains him to speak.

"You open me to being vulnerable, to... feeling things. It's terrifying and exhilarating and I hate you for it. But I cannot hate you for showing me love. You've shown me something that I haven't had. Something I've only ever dreamed of. An idea I gave up many decades ago. And yet here I am, pouring myself to you because hurting you is the last thing I want to do." His eyes meet yours and you see nothing but regret and truth in them.

"But you did, Geralt. Do you understand that? You say you don't want to be vulnerable because it's frightening. And it is. But the scariest part about giving your heart to someone is the fact that they have to power to break it. If you're so afraid of me doing that to you, why would you do that to me?" Your voice cracks and you curse yourself for getting so emotional.

He's silent and you sigh heavily.

"I cannot continue pretending that you are not hurting me when you are. I cannot trust you when you tell me that Yennefer is something of the past when she clearly remains a part of your present. You crave simpler times? We all do. That doesn't give us the right to hurt those that we care about." He steps towards you, slow enough for you to move away or tell him to stop if you want to.

When he's right in front of you he lifts his hand, the rough tips of his fingers tracing over the bandage by your collarbone.

He shakes his head, hating himself for not being there to protect you, hating the fact that he hurt you.

"I may never be able to express how much I regret causing you pain, how much I wish I could go back and change it." He rests his hand on the gauze, the warmth of his skin warming you through the layer between your skin and his.

He lowers his head, forehead against yours as he lets out a shaky breath.

"I love you, (Y/n). I may not say it often, but I mean it. You mean the world to me. Yen... she represents something that was fleeting. Brief pleasure. But you? You're a deeper desire. I feel the effects of you deep in my veins, in every breath I take."

Your bottom lip trembles, silent tears dripping down your cheeks as your emotions overwhelm you.

"If you wish to stay here with your brother... your people... I will understand. I will not force you to follow me, especially after I've hurt you. But you should know that you will always have a place with me, beside me. And no one will ever take that place." He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, soft and comforting and far too short. He's pulling back and stepping away from you, his eyes on yours.

"I'll leave now, but I will always have you in my heart, no matter what you choose to do."

He leaves then, and you find yourself with a decision before you. A difficult and quite possibly impossible decision.

Go with Geralt, leave your brother and your people and face the dangers that await the Witcher, go on countless adventures and be with the man you love, even though he may hurt you again.

Or, be the leader your people need. Join your brother and build bonds with the elves that remain, help build up an army and create a force stronger than men. One strong enough to take back what is rightfully yours.

Your decision is between your responsibility and your heart, and you hate yourself for knowing what you need to do.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #reader x geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader fic #reader insert #Female reader #reader smut #geralt x y/n #geralt/you #geralt/reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia/you #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #reader x the witcher #the Witcher fanfic #the Witcher x reader #the Witcher netflix

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honeyrites · 4 years

Text

Welcome Home - Feren

(x reader)

AN: I had planned to post this to Wattpad at first, so the cover/picture might seem a bit strange for tumblr. The reader is Thranduil’s daughter, the princess of Mirkwood. I swear I don’t usually write Feren nearly as submissive as he is here.

WARNINGS: fluff, mentions of war and ptsd

WORD COUNT: 2,081

The trees in the woodland realm are constantly changing structure to ward off any intruders; because of this, the elves are forced to frequently remap the landscape. The elites of the Mirkwood military were scheduled to spend two weeks in the forest to accomplish this task. While this shift in paths typically only occurred every few years, a group of dwarves working to reclaim the Kingdom of Erebor were being particularly aggressive this time. The trees were shifting far more frequently, and with the threat of war growing each and every day, the elves needed a reliable way to track the area. They were forced to accomplish this task in the dead of winter, over a much longer period of time than had been hoped, for the woods had grown afraid, and so had the soldiers.

Commander Feren returned with his troops two months after they were expected to arrive, with perfectly designed maps fit to serve their king. While the men did ache to return home, they spared no expense in accomplishing their goal; they knew the next battle would be soon and it relied on them alone. There was no room for error, and every opportunity for it as well. Despite the fact that they'd met all of Thranduil's relentless and merciless demands, when the commander returned with a positive scouting report and everything that had he asked, all he received was a nod from the king, who accepted his work as adequate. So, the soldiers- tired, frozen, nearly traumatized, and deeply disappointed soldiers- went to drink. Save for old Commander Feren, who was going immediately to bed.

The commander sat close to the fire, staring into the void. He kept a light blanket around his shoulders and his mind clear of any thoughts; the mission was over- he should have been relieved, but still the ellon remained too exhausted to appreciate the moment's sentiment. The room was silent save for all but the crackle of flames, and occasional crunching of snow outside (a sound that would have driven Feren half-mad if he weren't so tired). It was truly a pitiful sight.

The creaking of his bedroom door brought him out his state of half conscious thought. He reacted slowly to the sound, it barely processed in his mind that anyone had entered. Feren turned to look, but he felt the warmth on his face rapidly fleeting, and found he had to turn back to the fire to recover it. A breeze blew in from the recently open door, causing Feren to gasp involuntarily and shake more violently. His mind had completely dismissed the fact that someone had entered, it focused once more on the seemingly impossible task of escaping the cold.

"Starlight?" A soft voice called from the other side of the room. He finally turned to see the princess searching for him. His quick movement caught her eye, she smiled warmly before approaching. Feren saw his love in her usual lilac nightgown, which didn't cover nearly enough skin to keep her warm on such a night. It must be later than I thought... Feren pondered.

The elleth brought a comforter, which was thrown over her forearm and a mug in each hand, one of which she offered to Feren before settling down with him. She straddled his lap, quickly replacing the sad blanket around his shoulders with a thick comforter. She pulled him in for a quick kiss, one of which Feren wished lasted much longer, but was very grateful for her presence nonetheless.

"I missed you," he blurted out, desperate for her attention, despite the fact that he had it in its entirety. YN smiled and pressed their foreheads together.

"I missed you, too." She kissed him softly. "But, before we talk, you must first drink your hot chocolate," she commanded of him. Feren did as told, but cringed at the unexpectedly strong taste of liquor. YN laughed at his reaction and commented, "Galion made this, what were you expecting?". Feren was overwhelmed with joy and he showed it proudly, what a nice surprise it was for an angel to offer him comfort from the cage he'd been trapped in for months. The dark, unforgiving winter that had overtaken Feren's being had become a part of him he thought he could never rid of, but YN chased it away in a matter of seconds.

She set her cup down next to them, "So, tell me about the trip. How did it go?" Her voice was eager and her smile was kind, she wanted to understand his troubles and somehow open up the boy. Feren's small smile fell. He shrugged slightly and looked away, attempting to avoid her gaze, but she quickly followed. He found he didn't have the words to respond to that question, despite his best efforts. Feren opened his mouth to offer an explanation, but closed it again once he felt tears well in his eyes. Feren had kept it together for ten weeks, he'd valiantly led his hopeless soldiers for months on end without wavering (externally). He thought his worries were over when the mission ended. He certainly didn't think the mere mention of the situation would bring him straight to tears, but he was glad it was in front of his lady when it did.

The ellon wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck. "I don't know..." were the only words he could quietly let escape between sobs. He felt the weakest he had in his life, like a child crying to his mother. He wanted desperately to stop breaking down, but YN knew it would only get worse if he fought it. She ran her fingers through his hair slowly and soothingly, gaining control of every nerve in his body as she did so. YN kissed her meleth's forehead, she knew he was ashamed of himself and had no reason to be. "I'm sorry, my angel, I'm sorry you were out there for so long..." she whispered, knowing all the commander needed was somebody to empathize with him. There were no casualties reported or any major incidents; on paper it looked as though all was well, but the princess knew her ellon must have suffered greatly to have returned with such fantastic results. "It's over now, I promise... hey, starlight?" She lifted his chin so she could look him seriously in his eyes. Feren looked back at her like a scared puppy, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. She leaned in close and spoke quietly on his lips, "I love you," while wiping the tears from his eyes. Feren smiled, finally done with feeling lost. "I love you," he whispered, voice breaking slightly.

YN peppered soft, gentle kisses all over the soldier's face. He inhaled a shaky breath, feeling better than he had in ages. He pondered how she could so quickly recover his being, which had been in pain for what seemed like an eternity.

"I can't pretend like I know what it was like to be stuck out there for so long... but, I can say a few things are for certain," she stayed as close as she had before, nose to nose with one arm around Feren's neck and the other still tracing his skull. The male couldn't even blink; he was too lost in the maiden's eyes, voice, and touch. "one, you're here now. With me. Safe from all harm," she pointed to the window, momentarily diverting his attention before continuing, "...two, you see that? That's the world, and it is way - way out there. Far from us," he laughed as she kissed him again. "...three, I love you. And four, I will always be here when you return." The last affirmation, once again brought the male to tears, but for a very different reason than the last.

She pulled the blanket further up on Feren's shoulders, leaning in for another kiss, when the door opened. It was Legolas. Feren's room was the third largest in the kingdom, the pair couldn't easily be spotted from the doorway. "Feren, I-" the prince began as he entered the grand estate. Luckily, the ellon's ears were sharp, he quickly located the two before interrupting himself. "-will come again at a later date!" With that, he turned on his heel and left as quickly as he had come. The soldier and the princess were both sent into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at the prince's reaction.

YN sighed happily, "At least we no longer have to tell him we're together,". Feren took a sip of hot chocolate before responding "but is this really how we wanted him to find out?"

"Ridiculous question, because he knows now regardless of how we planned to tell him." He wanted to respond with a witty retort, but found himself lost again in his lady's eyes. YN chuckled at Feren's severely submissive state, his attention was completely on her, waiting for her next move. They sat in silence for a few moments before either one spoke up, appreciating sounds and smell of the fire, as well as the other's presence.

"Come on," YN stood up before offering a hand to her meleth. Feren did not want to leave. He was content to go to bed, but his mind resisted any movement that would separate him from the state they were just in. Feren's mind, which had known nothing but peril for too long, was not ready to be moved from the only place it deemed safe. Like an animal born in a cage, he was convinced everything beyond their small space was unsafe. Even if they were going to bed, what if the cold returned? Who's to say the fireside with her isn't the only truly safe place on Middle-Earth? Feren cringed at the delusional thoughts that raced through his head; he knew they were hallucinations.

"Bed?" His voice was much gentler than he had intended it to be. The male cleared his throat to distract from that fact.

"No." YN stated clearly before walking off into the darkness. Feren stood, he could still see her pulling at the hem of her dress, but was only a shadow when the fabric hit the floor. "Bath."

"Let me wash your hair, starlight." YN moved so she sat behind Feren.

"Absolutely not!" He joked, and turned around to look at her. "You have spoiled me enough already, you move."

She smiled sweetly at him, knowing the soldier was more likely to follow her instructions if she did. He was going to do as she said anyway, but YN knew he'd feel less guilty doing so if she proved he was no burden to her. Feren rolled his eyes and reluctantly sunk back in the water. Their breaths were slow and relaxed, both partners perfectly content with where they were. The air smelled of sweet vanilla, as the few candles that surrounded the large bath gave off a dim light. YN ran a hairbrush through the soldier's auburn locks slowly. She was determined to enjoy every minute of their time together. She began to massage his scalp once more, earning a quick response. "Stop that." Feren stated plainly, knowing the playful elleth was determined to pamper him, and his words were powerless against her relentless will. He was right, of course, YN giggled quietly. "You know, commander," he opened his eyes slowly, knowing she'd be peering over his laying body. "Hm?" Feren hummed, challenging her. "I think you forget that I am not one of your soldiers. I am the princess- and unfortunately for everyone- I will continue to do as I please. And if what I please is washing your hair with lavender, then that's just what I'll do, regardless of your pointless protests... and I certainly won't hesitate to point out the fact that you look like you're enjoying yourself thoroughly." All the male could do was smile in response. He was soon too lost in the feeling of her hands in his hair and the warm water to care for anything else.

#the hobbit #lord of the rings #feren x reader #feren #mirkwood #thranduil #legolas #the desolation of smaug #botfa

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blightarts · 4 years

Text

Blades of Order & Chaos

Chapter Title: Prologue

Word Count: 4362

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Pixelberry. This is my version for the upcoming sequel of Blades of Light & Shadow. I am not claiming this to be the canon story of the book. This is only written to increase the hype for the actual sequel.

MC/Pairing: Kite (Blue Elf Male MC) / Kite x Nia

Taglist: @princessstellaris @mechaspirit @brightningstar @cal-north @mahariel-theirin @lxdy-starfury @tyrils-star @imturaxamara @kelseaaa

It’s a silent night in the capital city of Whitetower. Each member of the group is settled in their bedrooms. Some are asleep while the others are restless. Kite just woke up with a gasp, panting and sweating after witnessing visions in his sleep. Nia shoots awake next to him with an immediate concern.

Nia: Kite? What’s wrong?

Kite looks around, catching his breath. He looks at his beloved, worried.

Kite: Nothing… just a bad dream…

Nia caresses his cheek and gives him a reassuring peck on the lips.

Nia: That’s right, just a bad dream. Now, come on. Let’s get some rest.

She smiles at him and Kite smiles back with a subtle uncertainty in his eyes. The two lie back down on bed, with Kite spooning Nia, before drifting back to sleep. Kite can’t help but recall the visions he saw; that strange hooded figure, the ruined burning city… and of course, the creature above him, huge and terrible…

Meanwhile, something similar happens to the rest of the group.

In Kade’s room, he’s laid down on his bed, unable to sleep. He begins recollecting a memory from when he was still an infant. He recalls being in a forest with the sound of people panting and another child crying being heard nearby. He then heard people talking frantically around him.

Voice 1: How did we not notice his presence for two thousand years?!

Voice 2: I do not know, but what confuses me is why he had to keep himself preserved instead of slaying his own nephew.

Voice 3: Well, it matters no longer. We must find a safe place and remain there long enough for Estel’s son to grow and become the hero this Realm needs.

Voice 1: Riverbend should be nearby. Let us seek refuge there.

The two voices continue to pant whilst running to their destination. This is all that Kade can remember, but the fact that the two voices mentioned Riverbend, mean that two of them could be his own parents and the other being Kite’s. He ruffles his hair, trying to know more.

Kade: Ugh… what does this all mean?!

In Mal’s room, he is sitting by the balcony, playing with a coin and gazing at the stars. He looks at his coin, giving him vivid flashbacks of the day before his retirement from the Thieves Guild. He recalls being inside an ancient dungeon buried in the Zaradun Wastelands. He then remembers his fellow thieves yelling in despair whilst trying to escape the dungeon as it was crumbling.

Thief 1: That… thing is alive!

Thief 2: How is that even possible?! This dungeon has to be at least… thousands of years old!

As the group approached the exit, the stone floor below them started shaking before it broke apart, causing most of the members to fall to their deaths. Mal, however, managed to leap out of danger in time, but as he was about to head out, a voice called for his help.

Fledgling Thief: Mister Volari!

Mal turned to see the fledgling hanging by the edge of the collapsed floor. He ran back to grab the young boy.

Mal: Hang on, kit! I got yo—

But before Mal could reach the fledgling, the floor crumbled once more, causing the young thief to fall to his death, much to Mal’s horror. As the ground in front of him started to crack, the former thief immediately ran out of the dungeon as it buries itself deeper beneath the sand. After returning to the Guild in Whitetower, Mal retired, overwhelmed by his Survivor’s Guilt, and began his life as an adventurer instead.

In the present day, he grits his teeth and clenches his fist, gripping the coin given to him by the fledgling he failed to save.

In Tyril’s room, the elf is asleep on his bed, dreaming peacefully, but that peace won’t last long. He begins experiencing a vision of the past, not his own past, but the history of House Starfury. Tyril finds himself in the middle of a battlefield.

Tyril: This place…

He attempts to familiarize his surroundings, seeing corpses of elves around him, with almost half of them having pale skin and blood on their lips. Tyril then recognized them as the cursed elven race, the Vhampyrs, prompting him to realize where he is.

Tyril: This is the Battle of Cragheart, where Lady Farin defeated the Beast of Blood…

He sprints across the battlefield, looking for his ancestor, Farin Starfury. Eventually, he does so and finds her, with the Blade of Sol in hand, standing face-to-face with the Beast itself, a large gargoyle-like creature with long black hair and crimson eyes. But what happened next shocked both Tyril and Farin as the Beast just spoke.

Beast of Blood: F-Fa-Fariiiiin…

Farin is caught off-guard for a second but quickly regains focus.

Farin: Do not distract me, you monster!

A fiery aura surrounds the elf as immense magical power surges through her, ready to strike. But the Beast continues to communicate with her.

Beast of Blood: V-Vla… dussss….

Once again, Farin lowers her guard as she sees the Beast’s eyes switching colors, from red to blue and vice versa. Soon, she begins to notice the features present in the Beast’s face as she recognizes its true identity.

Farin: B… Brother…?

Tyril widens his eyes at this revelation. He tries to reach out to Farin but was pulled back by an invisible force, causing him to jolt from his sleep with a gasp. He pants, processing what he just saw, before staring out the window in confusion.

Tyril: Lady Farin had a… brother…?

The elf attempts to shake off this thought out of his head before returning to his slumber.

In Imtura’s room, she is fast asleep but her troubled expressions mean that she might not having such a pleasant dream. Like Tyril, she’s having a vision, but instead of the past, it shows an event in the future. The orc finds herself back home, in Flotilla, but she doesn’t have full control over her own body. It’s almost as if she’s seeing the perspective of her future self. She then notices, in horror, Flotilla falling apart in flames, with other of her kind panicking.

Orc Guard 1: Get the children to safety! I’ll join you once we secure the royal family.

Orc Guard 2: Wait, is that…? The princess!

Orc Guard 1: Princess Imtura! Retreat to the Wra–

Imtura’s future self grits her teeth and turns to the guards.

Imtura (Future): Prioritize the citizens! Let me secure my own mother!

The orc guards reluctantly nod and follow the princess’s orders. As Imtura’s future self gets closer to the throne room, the present time Imtura’s vision start to get blurry, as if the dream is about to end.

Imtura (Present): Wait… no… bring me back… I need to know if my mother is alive! BRING ME BACK!!

But her cries do not matter as she wakes up in shock followed by deep breaths escaping her mouth. Imtura looks at her trembling hands, wondering if what she saw was real or if her mother was even safe should the events become true. She then repeatedly and gently smacks her hands against her cheeks.

Imtura: Come on, Imtura! It’s just a dream. Everyone is alright back home.

With a calming sigh, the orc lies back down and falls asleep a few minutes later.

And lastly, in the prisons of Whitetower, Aerin is seated at the corner of his cell, contemplating instead of sleeping. However, instead of thoughts about regret for his actions or vengeance upon those who imprisoned him, memories fill his mind, memories that date back to his childhood.

When Aerin was around six years old, he was seated on a bench in the castle’s flower garden. Beside him was his older brother, Baldur, who was nine years old at the time. Baldur was holding a stick and raised it up high, pretending to be a hero, before turning to Aerin.

Baldur (Past): One day, Aerin, we shall trek beyond the borders of Morella, and make peace with the surrounding kingdoms. With your wits and my strength, we will become kings that will lead our people to the right path!

Aerin smiled shyly but looked down.

Aerin (Past): I am uncertain, brother. You are the eldest, the heir to the throne. Technically, only you can become king while I just stand beside you as your advisor.

Baldur grinned as he ruffled Aerin’s hair.

Baldur (Past): Nonsense! I shall make it so that we both become kings.

Aerin looked up at his brother with wonder.

Aerin (Past): Really?

Baldur nodded.

Baldur (Past): I cannot do this alone. We’re brothers. We have to stick together.

As the memory fades, Aerin places a palm on his head, riddled.

Aerin: …Have I always had memory…?

The night goes on and our heroes are lost in thought after what they had just experienced.

A new day begins, brighter than the last, and the group gathers at the main hall of the castle, preparing to say their goodbyes and go back to their normal lives, but after what they’ve experienced the previous night, it’s too soon to depart just yet. On the way to the main hall, Kite and Nia are walking down the stairs, hand in hand. Kite tries his best to hide his worried expression from Nia, but the priestess is too occupied with a slight headache. She gently places a hand on her head as her vision starts to blur. Kite notices this.

Kite: You okay, Nia? You look like you’re starting to get lightheaded.

Nia meets Kite’s concerned eyes but a vision flashes before hers. In this vision, she is seeing through the perspective of someone from long ago. Nia finds herself in some sort of tunnel and in front of her is a dark figure with swords hovering around them as they approach her. The priestess sees herself raising her hands against this mysterious figure ready to blast them with the power of the Light. However, the figure was too elusive as they quickly evaded the blast before plunging one of their swords onto Nia, prompting the vision to cease and the priestess to gasp and fall onto Kite’s arms. The elf’s expression turned from concern to fear.

Kite: Woah, woah… what happened…? Are you okay?

Nia takes a moment to breathe while Kite helps her stand.

Nia: I don’t know… I… think I just saw… a glimpse of the past…

Kite: What do you mean? From when?

Nia shakes her head and shrugs in uncertainty. Kite just nods and kisses her forehead, not wanting to put much pressure into her after what she just went through. After regaining composure, the priestess sighs and looks at her beloved with a reassuring smile.

Nia: I’ll be okay. The bad things are all over now.

Kite hesitantly smiles back at her, thoughts of last night’s dream not being able to escape his mind.

Kite: …Yeah, they are.

Suddenly, they hear someone at the bottom of the stairs.

Mal: Hey, are you two just gonna get married and spend the rest of your lives on that step? We ain’t got all day.

Kite and Nia turn to see their friends waving at them. Kade and Imtura are snickering because of Mal’s joke while Tyril shakes his head in disappointment. Threep and Loola flutter towards Kite and Nia with grins on their faces.

Threep: Come. There’s much to do.

The couple nods at the two nespers before descending the stairs to meet up with the rest of the group. As all of them head towards the main hall, Kite notices troubled faces on his friends, realizing that they must’ve seen something similar to what he saw last night. Knowing that they might be hesitant in sharing, he decides to share his experience.

Kite: Guys, I have something to say…

Kite halts behind his friends as they all turn towards him.

Tyril: Is something the matter, Kite?

Kite grits his teeth but reluctantly speaks up.

Kite: I don’t think we’re done yet… There’s still more about the Shadow Realm we do not know.

Everyone tilts their head on confusion.

Kade: What do you mean?

Imtura: Yeah, we kicked the Dreadlord and his goons’ asses while we were there.

Kite shakes his head.

Kite: It’s not just them… There’s something else in that damned place…

He clutches himself, shivering while the thought of Whitetower in ruins fills his mind. Nia steps up to hold and comfort him.

Nia: Kite, is this about that bad dream you had last night?

Kite looks at her and nods in terror.

Mal: What exactly did you see?

Kite gulps, trying not to hurl.

Kite: I was warned about a great danger coming from the Shadow Realm… After wielding the Blade of Light in there, I seemed to have attracted the attention of a far more threatening foe… the Empire of Ash, if I recall.

Threep and Loola’s eyes start to widen in dread.

Loola: D-Did you just say…?

Threep: The Empire of Ash…?

The group notices the nespers shivering in fear, as if they know more than what the others think.

Kade: Wait, what is the Empire of Ash?

Threep gulps and tries to speak but is too horrified. Loola steps up and speaks up instead.

Loola: The Empire of Ash is an ancient enemy that preceded the Shadow Court. Some stories say that they had fought against the first generation of the Elven Empire, but others say that they are the Elven Empire itself before being usurped by their foes who fought for righteousness. Whichever you look at it, they are far worse and more dangerous than the Shadow Court, nay, even the Dreadlord himself.

Threep coughs and finally talks.

Threep: And if Kite is saying that they are coming once again, then this Realm is in great danger.

Tyril: How come I’ve just heard of them now? Their history should’ve been written in the elven archives.

Loola shakes her head.

Loola: All records about the Empire had been erased during the war against the Shadow Court. All of them, gone.

Mal: And since you and Threep are the only ones from that era, only you two knew about it?

The two nespers nod.

Imtura: What else do you know about the Empire?

Threep: I heard that the Empire was led by the one called “Fateseeker”, an individual with unimaginable power, able to lay waste on a civilization within minutes.

Shivers travel down on the group’s spines upon hearing what Threep said.

Kade: How did the Empire fall?

Loola: Rumors say that a single elf who wielded the power of both Light and Shadows was able to push back their forces and eventually, banish them in the Shadow Realm.

Threep: The elves of our time believed that the Dreadlord and the Shadow Court were merely just pawns of the Empire.

After this huge revelation, everyone in the group is taken aback and tries to process what they’ve just heard. Gritting his teeth, Kite stands up straight and walks past the group.

Nia: Kite? Where are you going?

Kite: The prisons. I’m paying him a visit.

The group realizes who Kite is referring to and goes after him.

Mal: You sure, kit? We still don’t know if you’re dream is just… well, a dream.

Kite: I’m certain. He’s spent twenty years of his life in the Shadows, so he must know something about the Empire.

Soon, the group arrives in Whitetower’s lockup, standing in front of Aerin’s cell. He scoffs at them.

Aerin: Have you come here to mock me before you all return to your normal lives? That’s petty, even for me.

Kite: We’ve come here to ask you a few things.

Aerin raises his head with a smirk.

Aerin: Oh? What more can you ask from me? The Dreadlord and the Shadow Court are gone. You have nothing else to interrogate out of me.

Kite: What do you know about the Empire of Ash?

The prince raises an eyebrow.

Aerin: Ah, I see. I thought the Dreadlord was just exaggerating when he said that he serves a far greater power than his own.

He stands up and walks up to the bars of his cell.

Aerin: Alright then, Kite. I shall entertain you.

He then smirks before continuing.

Aerin: While planning for the Shadow Court’s return, the Dreadlord has mentioned about the Empire a couple times. He said how he needed a vessel who is prominent in Light Magic in order to act as the beacon, signaling the Empire.

The prince turns to Nia, who backs away while Kite steps between them. Aerin chuckles and continues.

Aerin: Even with the Dreadlord’s demise, he still was able to fulfill his goal… all because of your foolishness.

Insulted, Kite attempts to charge at Aerin but his friends hold him back. The former prince just laughs before sitting at the corner of his cell.

Aerin: That is all I can offer you, Kite. If you want to know more, you could pay the dwarves of Zaradun a visit, that is if you can find one at all, since they’ve been missing prior to the rise of the Shadow Court.

Kite grits his teeth before breaking out of his friends’ hold and taking his leave. The rest of the group follow him.

Kade: Kite, where are you going?

Kite: The Zaradun Wastelands.

Nia grabs Kite’s arm and stops him in his tracks.

Nia: Kite, why are you so intent on stopping the Empire?

Kite breaks into tears.

Kite: Because it’s my fault why we have to deal with them in the first place!

The group falls silent as the elf continues.

Kite: I brought the Light upon the Shadow Realm. The Empire is returning because of me. I have to make up for my mistake.

Kite clenches his fists as they tremble.

Imtura: Why is it that there’s something else you’re not telling us?

Kite gulps.

Tyril: Kite, tell us. Please.

Kite sighs and gives in to his friends’ pleas.

Kite: I… saw something else after being warned of the Empire…

Threep: What was it?

Kite looks around Whitetower then at his friends.

Kite: Whitetower… in ruins… burning… while a dragon looms over it…

There was a long silence as the group stares at Kite in horror.

Mal: What did you just say…?

Mal, knowing that his sister lives in the capital, grabs Kite’s collar.

Nia: Mal, what are you doing?!

Mal: What about my sister, Kite? Is she still alive in this dream of yours?

Kite doesn’t answer, uncertain of the fate of Whitetower’s inhabitants, further angering Mal.

Mal: ANSWER ME, KIT!

Tyril grabs Mal’s arm and gives him a concerned look. The rogue comes back to his senses before letting go of Kite.

Mal: I’m sorry, Kite. I don’t know what came over me… it’s just… I’ve already lost enough… I don’t wanna lose anyone else.

Kite shakes his head.

Kite: It’s okay. I understand your frustration. I think… we just need to clear our heads and plan out what we should do next.

As the rest of the group nods at what Kite said, Imtura is at the back, trying to connect the destruction of Whitetower in Kite’s dream and the destruction of Flotilla in her dream.

Nia: Imtura?

The orc is snapped back into reality as she looks at the group staring at her.

Imtura: I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m concerned for my family as well.

The group nods at what she said before Kade steps up with a suggestion.

Kade: Okay, come on. Group hug. We need to keep our spirits up in the fight ahead.

Kite smiles at his brother before placing his arm over his shoulder. The elf looks at the rest of the group.

Kite: Kade’s right. We’re all in this together.

Nia joins and places her arm around Kite. Tyril joins right after.

Nia: No matter the threat, we can handle it.

Tyril: We have done it once; we can do it again.

The four of them smile at Mal and Imtura, waiting for them to join. The rogue and orc roll their eyes before reluctantly joining the hug.

Mal: You all are hopeless optimists.

Imtura: But the same can be said for the both of us.

As the group laughs at the comment, Threep and Loola land on Kite and Nia’s shoulders, respectively.

Threep: We are all still millennia away from defeating the Empire…

Loola: But that shouldn’t stop us from saving the realm.

Kite looks at the determination present in his friends’ faces.

Kite: Let’s get this done!

Everyone: YEAH!

Suddenly, the moment was cut short by an explosion heard from a distance.

Mal: What was that?

The group turns around the corner to see smoke coming from the castle. They rush back towards it, curious and worried as to who or what caused the explosion. Upon reaching the throne room, the group spots King Arlan, surrounded by his guards, standing face-to-face against a dark figure. Nia’s heart sinks as the mysterious figure looks exactly the same as the one she saw in her vision. She begins to collapse but Kite catches her in his arms.

Kite: Nia, are you okay?

While the group helps Nia on her feet, King Arlan speaks with the dark figure.

King Arlan: Who are you?! And what business do you have against my kingdom?!

The figure unsheathes their sword and conjures five copies of it before having the swords hover around them. Tyril immediately recognizes the unique magic used by the figure.

Tyril: Impossible. How is he alive after all these years?

Mal: You know him, elf boy?

Tyril grits his teeth and unsheathes his own sword.

Tyril: He is a former member of the Shadow Court… Sir Laundsellyn, the Deserter!

The figure turns towards Tyril and grins.

Sir Laundsellyn: “Deserter”, eh? I am grateful that elven history gave me quite a title.

While Imtura and Mal join Tyril and unsheathe their weapons, Kite hands Nia to Kade.

Kite: Take care of her.

Kade: Don’t worry. Kick Laundsellyn’s ass.

The elf grins at his brother before joining the others.

Imtura: What’s this guy’s deal?

Tyril: Prior to the purification ritual two thousand years ago, all of the members of the Shadow Court were cornered and eventually banished to the Shadow Realm… All, but one.

Mal: Sir Laundry boy?

Tyril nods.

Tyril: He was tasked with hunting down the Priestess of Light and succeeded but was never heard from again when he was supposed to join the other members of the Court during the final battle of the war.

Imtura: Oh, so he’s not a “deserter”. He’s a coward!

Sir Laundsellyn scoffs.

Sir Laundsellyn: Spare me your insults. I’d known from the beginning that the Court will fail. So, I fled, avoiding my banishment. I was thinking far ahead than any of them, even the Dreadlord himself.

He starts walking towards the King.

Sir Laundsellyn: My purpose now is to serve a far greater power… the Empire of Ash…

Anger rises among the group upon hearing the mention of the Empire.

Imtura: Anything we should know about this guy, Tyril?

Tyrils shakes his head.

Tyril: No, the elven archives did not mention a lot about Laundsellyn, except only for being part of the Court and his betrayal.

Kite: I guess we’re on our own here.

Tyril: We need a distraction.

Kite smirks as he puts a hand on his waist, but Mal grips the elf’s shoulder.

Mal: Don’t. You. Dare.

(Author’s Note: Kite’s not much of a Seductive Skill combatant . 😅)

Kite chuckles.

Kite: Don’t worry. I’m not that type of fighter.

He then holds out his hand, materializing the Blade of Light in his grasp.

Kite: I’ll take him on easily.

Mal, Tyril and Imtura grin.

Mal: Oh, right. I forgot we have that now.

Tyril: An agent of the Shadows like him won’t stand a chance against your Blade.

Imtura: Go get ‘em!

Kite nods as he dashes towards Laundsellyn who turns to him.

Sir Laundsellyn: Oho? What do we have here?

Kite channels the power of the Light present within the Blade before swinging it at the former member of the Shadow Court.

Kite: This is your end!

However…

CLANG!

…Sir Laundsellyn stops the Blade with only his finger, leaving everyone in utter shock and silence.

Tyril: …T-That’s… not possible…

Kade: How?! He’s a soldier of the Shadow Court!

Laundellyn smirks and pinches the tip of the Blade.

Sir Laundsellyn: Ah, I’ve been wondering where my Blade has been all this time.

He then kicks Kite on his gut, causing him to loose grip on the Blade as he is propelled across the throne room.

Imtura: Kite!

Mal rushes to Kite’s aid while Tyril and Imtura ready themselves.

Mal: Kit, are you okay?

Kite coughs and glares at Laundsellyn.

Kite: Your Blade? What are you talking about?

Laundsellyn chuckles as he holds the Blade properly with its hilt.

Sir Laundsellyn: The Blade of Light has always been an heirloom to my House. Being a descendant of the one who wielded the power of the Light and Shadows, I cannot be harmed by the Blade.

Suddenly, something comes to Threep’s mind, as if he’s starting to remember a lost memory.

Threep: I remember now… You’re the prodigal son… of the House I once served!

Laundsellyn spots Threep behind Kite and squints his eyes.

Sir Laundsellyn: Tch! I thought I made sure you’d forgotten everything about my House, Pompedorfin.

Threep hisses at him.

Threep: Mind your tongue, traitor! You were the reason why House Nightbloom became extinct!

Upon hearing the mention of his own House, Kite’s eyes widen.

Kite: Threep, what do you mean?

Loola: Threep once told me about an heir to House Nightbloom, who is slothful, despite being skilled in almost everything. He stole their heirloom and left without a trace in pursuit of his own selfish goals.

Laundellyn sighs.

Sir Laundsellyn: Ah, yes, the nostalgia of those days...

He scoffs as the power of the Shadows surge through him.

Sir Laundsellyn: Well, if you must know… My real name… is Lucius Nightbloom.

----- END OF CHAPTER -----

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