#victoria pls pls pls pls pls

[northernember]

oh the things i would give for a midnight sun style rq book, just like a condensed version of the series but from cal’s pov

both for the additional interactions between him and the other characters but also so i can spend the entire read highlighting all the times he thinks/mentions mare that man is down Bad okay

also im so desperate for more cal and maven interactions just P l e a s e i want to see them be brothers and love each other Before the Betrayal™️

[shriika]

thinking about a younger katerina

[texasbama]

[l9vepotions]

if i see one more person ship vicky with that blonde, milk drinking, mommy issues freak i’m gonna cry and rip my eyes out 😭

[ghostampire]

eat me pls

[starbluekindo]

LOML (part 1)

synopsis: you and victoria are destined to meet, not to be together.

cw: victoria neuman × fem!reader, a little angust, traumatic past (quoted), red river (quoted), reader is a supe with necromancy, childhood love.

a/n: guys, this is my first time and english is not my official language, so...idk what i mean

and sorry for all the references to taylor swift's songs (ilv her ✊🏻😔😭)

part!2 part!3

victoria carried with her a not very extensive baggage of regrets, especially because all the decisions she made in the past were with her future in mind. but that doesn't mean it was a clean path.

among the few regrets that victoria carried with her, you were the one that hurt the most in her chest. you. not sameer or hughie... but you, the little child in red river who she had to leave behind when stan edgar gave her an opportunity for change.

"i'll come back for you." she promised with such certainty back then that even she was convinced of it. making promises and wiping away your tears, struggling to hold on as you broke down. "i always come back".

it's not that you weren't happy for her, you were... but something inside you knew that this time would be different, victoria wouldn't come back like the other times. "i wait for you." and yet you promised to wait for her, even though you knew it would be the last time.

you kept your promise.

victoria was unable to fulfill hers.

you were only a few years younger than victoria- well, for you it was nadia. you were an isolated child in red river and had a lot of problems with adoption since most people didn't want a child with the powers you had. the children called you death, but you weren't death, you communicated with it and saw things that no one else could see. no one wanted a child who spoke to the dead.

not someone with good intentions.

luckily for you, an elderly woman with no heirs adopted you as her granddaughter when you were seventeen - three years after nadia left. your benefactress left all her poses to you and gave you the best education money could buy - why? she wanted to communicate with her late lover, who never had the opportunity to say goodbye or declare her true love. it was a sad, beautiful tragedy, but it helped you to have the good living conditions you have today. it helped you become the professional you are today.

"cosmopolitan" you told the bartender your order. it was one of those annual charity events that the company you inherited held every year, full of people who pretended to care about some social cause. this year? something to do with polar bears.

you cared about charity, you really tried to help all causes even if it was doing the minimum. however, it became exhausting having to smile at everyone there and pretend to believe their well-intentioned statements.

"whisky. neat." god, you'd recognize that damn voice even in hell, your head turning quickly to find it. so many years have passed, you two had new identities, new lives and yet... victoria remained the same. "you look great”

"you too" your response was quick, suddenly you felt like a child again as you stared into her eyes, your heart racing and your hands starting to sweat.

"it's been a long time" you wanted to punch her, you wanted to hug her, kiss her, you wanted to cry because she didn't keep her promise, you... you wanted her back.

"yeah... quite" you simply agreed without knowing what to do. the bartender handed you your drinks, but victoria's focus was on you and your focus... god, you couldn't even stay focused on the conversation.

victoria brought the whiskey to her lips, feeling the alcohol burn down her throat as her eyes remained on you. for a time she swore she was a mirage, a dream, perhaps even her own mind playing tricks on her. but as soon as you took the stage and gave your opening speech, victoria knew it was you, even after years she would never forget the voice of the woman she loved.

"i'm so sorry"

"nadia- victoria."

you quickly corrected yourself. she was no longer nadia, she was victoria neuman, congresswoman and vice president-elect of the united states.

"please" her hand wrapped around yours in a firm but comforting grip that made your breath hitch and automatically remind you of the days you spent together at the orphanage, when you would sneak out of your bed whenever you had a nightmare and go to the her arms "give me a chance to... repair things between us."

damn big brown eyes. you've never been able to say 'no' to her before, not when she looked at you that way. it's just that you were too resentful to give in now.

"miss neuman" your voice was a little low, but managed to be firm "i don't think we have anything to repair. i-i have nothing to talk to you about"

"sweetheart..."

"no. not after all this time... i-i waited for you for 13 years, i stayed right where you left me while you moved on with your life. i kept my promise."

your words hit victoria squarely in the chest, it was as if her heart had been stabbed ten times. she saw the hurt in your eyes, she saw that you were hurt and she hated herself for that, she hated having made you suffer and most of all she hated herself for not keeping her promise.

"i'm here now" she was silently begging you to listen to her, you could see the guilt in her eyes and the silent desperation in her mind. "please”

a/n: guys I really tried 😭😭😭

maybe a part 2?

[dyk3tastic]

can’t have both

victoria neuman (the boys) x reader

genre: angst, tension

summary: set during 4x07 of the boys. you, a member of the boys, run into victoria at tek-nights whilst looking for hughie. danger leads to a brief moment of vulnerability between you two.

warnings: blood, violence, canon-typical threats of violence, language, non-con touching

a/n: my first post on my new blog :p. been obsessed with her and needed somewhere to dump this sexy headpopper brainrot. lmk if you’d like me to write more of her or any other hot ‘evil’ women (shes not evil, just misunderstood (ignore all the homocide)). haven’t posted ff in years lol im being sucked back in. written off an edible at 4am excuse any spag errors. (heya, this is shy from the future, you can now read part 2 & part 3 of this if u fancy :p )

she has you pinned, strong lithe fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing. the other gripping firm across your jaw, sure to leave a bruise, keeping you quiet. you think all this is unnecessary, you don’t have a death wish; screaming, drawing any attention to yourself, in a house full of supes and nazis wasn’t exactly high on your wishlist. you glared up at her deep brown eyes, they were as collected as she always so desperately tried to appear, the only hint of panic setting along her tight jaw. looming over you in her heels you loved so much, you’re eyes see her mouth moving but no words register. you wonder how she can even cope at things like this, how she can stomach this disgusting parade of privilege and abuse. the victoria you knew would fucking hate this, but you didn’t know her, not really.

its only her tightening grip on your jaw, making your teeth scrape against each other, pain shooting through your skull that brings you back.

“you’re a fucking idiot” she gritted through a clenched jaw. she took a deep, shaky breath. if you didn’t know better you’d think she was nervous. “pull any of your usual shit on me right now and i swear to god i will paint that pretty face of yours across the room”. her voice was barely above a whisper, inches away from your face her warm breath prickled against your skin, stray strands of her soft dark hair brushing against your cheek. you don’t think you’ve been this close to her since you found out, your heart pounded in your chest, body thrumming with nerves and tension. she released her hand from over your mouth, “what are you doing here?” she spat out, with that familiar patronising yet pitiful victoria stare that tells you you’ve once again made a bad decision, the wrong decision. you gasp for breath, she loosens her grip on your neck, but still keeps her fingers settled over your pulse point, a reminder of who’s in charge.

you try to keep your voice even as you rasp out a “hughie”, throat still throbbing from her grip. “your pal tek-night has got him locked up here somewhere”. continuing to cough out you snarl “you remember hughie right? your friend who you lied to and manipulated for years?”. hot piercing anger was rising through your body whilst something deep sunk in your stomach, settling in a twisted concoction of desire and disgust, a needy pit of betrayal. overwhelmed and once again underprepared, you fingers inch towards the syringe in your back pocket. before you can even swing for her neck your arm is pinned, blood running from both your nostrils, dripping over your lips, down your chin and neck, her grip around your neck tight.

“what did i fucking say?” she sighed, disappointed.

“i thought we were-“ your voice fails you, your anger clouding any chance of vulnerability, of reconciliation.

“i wanted to tell you” a beat of silence. “i did. and hughie. i wanted to tell you both.” she lets out a sad, tired half-laugh, grip not faltering from your neck. “i wanted to trust you but i didn’t want to lose you.” she swallows. “and i didn’t think i could have both, i’ve never been able to have both”. the slip in her mask of cool confidence, the crack of vulnerability, makes you feel slightly sick as you are unable to squash the warmth of empathy in your chest. you flinch at the melancholy that swims below her beautiful features, that deep sadness painting her eyes that made her so fucking irresistible. you felt sick again.

“just get it over with vic.” you choked out, mouth filling with blood. she frowned in response, taking a moment as she felt your heart beat, blood pumping fast and heavy through your body, she could tell you were scared. feeling the heat from your skin, she knew her closeness was having an effect on you, she let a smirk tug at the corners of her full lips.

“i’m not going to fucking kill you y/n.” she dryly chuckled. letting go of her grip on your neck and wrist, she swiped the pad of her thumb over your lips, dragging down across your chin. as she stepped back from you your traitor body instantly missed her presence looming over you. you were free to make a run for it, yet there you remained, paralysed before her knowing stare. she raised her thumb to her mouth, licking off your blood in what can only be described as a terrifyingly erotic gesture that was perfectly victoria. both a display of power and some twisted form of tenderness. your breath hitched as you broke eye contact, not daring to say a word for fear of what might come out. she smiled again, this time without that signature smugness, but with a softer expression that she reserved, rarely, for very few, both somewhat cheeky and sad, desperately sincere. before you could even allow your seriously lagging brain to formulate a response victoria was striding out of the room without looking back, leaving your blood to dry across your face.

[parksnark]

the haircut???? the cats??????? this cunty pose???????

the nemesis ward???????

this is everything I have ever wanted. beyond my wildest dreams.

[thefallenmk]

Haven't posted In a while

So... Here's some Seras and Pip

[kuvwrlds]

victoria neuman is a WOMAN KISSER SHE KISSES WOMEN i know this for a FACT

[mercurycft]

dressing in black for the foreseeable.. i am in mourning. 😒😒😒😒

[infamous-if]

O kay okay okayaoakayasysayas Since Rowan isn't going to be a LI can we please get his POV reaction (deep crush stage) of MC going over to him to tell him that MC is in love with one of the other ROs? Pleasee I need the angst and I love Rowan and am sad we won't be able to romance him!!

I was listening to favorite crime and kind of went a bit overboard. Please excuse this lengthy and angsty-ish drabble. Aha.... 🤒 ill keep it short next time

The soft notes of Rowan's guitar--affectionally dubbed 'Betty'--rises above his head, filling the silence of his hotel room. He strums aimlessly, absently, his fingers having a mind of their own as they move, creating a random melody that's oddly soothing. Or maybe it's the very essence of his guitar--he always feels more grounded, centered, with Betty in his hands.

Rowan's gaze remains unfocused as he plays, his head tilted, legs crossed on the balcony that overlooks the sleepy streets of their latest tour stop. A soft, pleasantly warm wind curls around the messy strands of his hair, locks sweeping across his forehead like a caressing hand. As the melody takes hold, going from mindless practice to something that sounds like it can be the bones of a real song, he closes his eyes.

Rowan has never been a good singer, but you don't need to be a good singer to make people feel something. He's learned that from the best of them.

I wonder if MC would like this.

The thought of his best friend makes a low groan sound in his throat, and with a huff he pauses the recording of his phone. Suddenly Betty's romantic notes feel like a taunt, a blade to his heart with every reminder of what he and MC are not. They're not together. They're not anything more than friends.

They're not what he wants them to be.

He knows he shouldn't feel this way about them. They're friends. They've been friends since he still thought fart jokes were funny and he had no bass in his voice. That's all they've always been and all they will be: friends.

The word has never sounded so terrible.

Still. If only...

His phone buzzes with a text and he sets Betty down. That blade in his heart only twists when he sees who it's from.

Of course. Did my thinking manifest them? The thought induces both a laugh and a sharp hint of misery from him.

He reads the text: Open your door.

He turns his upper-body to face his door, bursting up once the realization flows through him. He glances at himself in the mirror on his way there, making sure his pajamas are at least semi-presentable. It's MC; they've seen him in worst states, but level of comfortability changes when you want someone to see you in ways they've never seen you before.

In other words, he needs to look good.

Rowan heaves a breath before swinging open the door, remembering to keep the easy smile on his face. MC still looks good even at twelve a.m. after an entire day on the road. It's almost unfair.

"Heyyyy." He grins, trying to appear light. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

MC rolls their eyes. "You're not busy, are you?" They lean over to peek behind Rowan's shoulder, their eyes settling on an abandoned Betty. "Working on something?"

"Nah." He scratches his neck, self-concious. "Just fooling around. What, you need to talk about something?"

MC pushes past Rowan's shoulder to breeze inside, throwing themselves on the bed with a huff. "Iris and Devyn are out and I need to talk to someone."

Rowan takes a seat next to them, snorting. "So I'm the third choice?Wow."

They prop themselves up on their elbows, strands of hair falling in front of their face. Rowan has the terrible urge to lean over and push them away. "You're not exactly the 'serious talk' kind of person."

"Serious talk?" He gapes. "Yes, I am! I'm capable of being serious, you know. I'm not an asshole."

With a laugh, MC rolls over on their stomach and groans into Rowan's pillow. Now his curiosity is officially piqued. What could have MC so...like this?

"What's up?" Rowan's following laugh is both nervous and amused. "Did something happen with Seven?" Seven and MC have been a bit...all over the place since the beginning of the tour. He hardly knows what to call it. "Or did Orion lecture you again?" Orion is another one. That man has been relentless since tour started.

MC shoots him a look before sitting up, copying Rowan's position. His eyes flicker down to where their knees touch, to the proximity that's gone from the size of the bed to none at all.

They've been close like this before. No, scratch that. They've been closer, but this is different. This is different because everything is different.

"You know you're my best friend, right?" MC says, putting their hands on Rowan's.

He clears his throat, the skin under theirs burning with their touch. "Yeah...?"

"And we can tell each other everything?"

"Yeah." He quirks a brow at them, trying to stifle their humor. "Are you dying? Please don't tell me you're dying. You haven't even gotten rich yet to leave me anything in your will."

MC laughs but it comes out a bit uncertain. High-pitched. Rowan knows them. The same way he knows Iris and Devyn. He knows all of them like the back of his hand. So it only takes him another second to realize it.

MC is nervous.

His heart does a weird somersault in his gut.

"I have a secrettttt," MC sing-songs. Even as a joke they still manage to sing with perfect pitch.

The four words are enough to shake his very world, but he manages an eye roll. "Fucking hell, we're not twelve. Just spit it out."

"Sorry." MC palms their face, a nervous laugh escaping them. God. This must be serious for MC to be nervous in front of him? Rowan has never really gave anyone the impression of a harsh judge. Hell, he's always been an open book. "I just...I'm in love with [RO]."

He wished he didn't rush them. He wished he didn't hear those words at all. He's half tempted to grab it from the air and shove it back into MC's mouth so they can pretend it never happened.

"What?" is all the fuzz in his brain can spit out.

MC throws their self back, a wildly breathless laugh escaping them. The sound is even better than Betty's notes. "WHEW. That felt good to say it. Is anyone hot in here? I know I am."

MC keeps babbling but all Rowan could hear is a white noise in his head. MC is in love with RO. MC is in love with them.

MC is in love with someone that's not him.

"I just needed to let that out." MC huffs, gazing around the room. "You should invite me next time you play. You know I like seeing you finger Betty."

Rowan can't even laugh at the dirty inside joke they've had between them since he bought Betty years ago. It suddenly makes him feel wholly small and largely ridiculous: Rowan will never be the person for MC. He will always be the goofy best friend that makes stupid, childish jokes about fingering his dumbass guitar and the one MC goes to when Devyn and Iris aren't available.

He's not even the second choice. He's the fucking fourth.

As if noticing the change in atmosphere, MC awkwardly purses their lips and says, "I should probably get back to my room and get some sleep. We have an early start tomorrow."

He blinks, managing a small nod. "Uh-huh." He runs a hand through his hair, feeling naked without his hat. "Right."

They stand and shoot Rowan a final look. "Thank you," they say after. a moment, "for being my friend."

He's really starting to hate that word.

But he smiles anyway. "Yeah. Ditto."

MC grins, spinning on the heel of their foot to leave the room. Rowan follows, waving lamely at them and watching as they disappear down the hall, whistling a merry tune. It's true; it does feel like a weight was lifted of their shoulders. They walk with a hop in their step. Rowan hates knowing it was RO that is responsible for that.

With a sigh he closes the door, leaning his forward against it. Spinning on his shoulder, he looks up at the ceiling.

"I need to get laid," he mumbles.

Though he has a feeling that won't do much to solve the problem in his heart.

[temeyes]

i had a revelation

[rosietrace]

“Midnight Waltz”

| Malleus Draconia + Victoria Shard | 🐉 + 🪞 |

✎ᝰ. synopsis : Malleus held out his hand to her, his eyes glowing under the darkness of the hall. There was a strange tug in Victoria's system, somehow urging her — convincing her — to take that step closer and intertwine her hand with his.

✎ᝰ. content warnings : takes place post-glorious masquerade, Victoria's dress description is inaccurate to the event color scheme due to this being written pre-redesign, potentially ooc

✎ᝰ. genre : romance, canon divergence, oc + canon character

( ˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ ) a/n : I have so many drafts in my docs its almost EMBARRASSING ☠️ so I saw that this was already finished among them and decided, “why the hell not?” and boom. I've finally posted it. Good for me ig [ dividers belong to the amazing @cafekitsune !!! ]

✎ᝰ. : reblogs > likes

“And just where do you think you're going?”

Whatever mood Victoria was in prior, it had immediately soured. Malleus Draconia came into view at the turn of her head.

“I'm leaving.” It was an answer, simple as that. It didn't warrant any other explanation; the festivities of Noble Bell had come to a close, and no matter the fireworks, the glimmering lights, and the enthusiasm of their schoolmates— none of it mattered.

It would all become a distant memory, one way or another. Maybe it would be something she could look back on with fondness.

Or maybe she'd forget a moment such as this. Just like so many others that came before it.

Her response made Malleus appear all the more displeased than usual. “Already?”

“It's past midnight, Draconia.”

“And I thought the festivities would finally get you to loosen up, Shard.”

“What point would there be in doing so?” So you could hold it over my head and mock me? She sure as hell wouldn't allow that.

“It's rare for you to not be so… yourself.”

Malleus didn't know how else to phrase it, it seemed. Even the sound of his voice bothered Victoria, almost as much as looking at him and his emeralds for eyes.

“... You're not in your masquerade garb,” Victoria acknowledged. Now all the prince wore was his Diasomnia uniform— complete with the boots and, in Victoria's humble opinion, equally ridiculous hat.

“Is that a problem?” he inquired. His stance militaristic, arms behind his back, head held high like any awaiting king would.

Oh, how Victoria yearned to knock him off that pompous throne. To be the one wearing the crown and staring him down, watching as he groveled.

Well, Victoria, you can't have everything, she told herself in mild disappointment.

It was already late into the night, and the bell at the top of the tower had ceased its ringing when Midnight struck. They shouldn't have been here, near each other, looking at each other.

Malleus spoke again, the bastard. “And what of you?” His hand lazily motioned to her. And for the slightest moment Victoria wished there was one more garment she could wear as a barrier between him and her.

She refused to let that show. “What of me?”

His eyebrow arched. “So late into the night, when everyone is tucked safely into their sleeping quarters…”

“And yet here you are: all dressed in white like a bride left at the altar.”

“Like you're any better,” Victoria shot back with a sneer. “You fancy an unchaperoned midnight stroll, Draconia?”

“The stars are of better company than the likes of you, dearest Shard.”

“How flattering.”

“I should hope so. It's probably the only genuine compliment you could ever get.”

Her eyes narrowed down into slits, her lips pressing together before she said, “Do not challenge my patience, Draconia.” Patience that was hanging by a very thin, very fragile thread.

But Malleus Draconia was a prince not so easily deterred. His eyes wandered. To the large stained glass windows at his right, the moon illuminating them in a strange yet no less stunning disposition of color.

His eyes focused back on her, raking over her from head to toe. How irritating that he remained with an obscured and masked face. Perhaps that was a blessing, Victoria wanted to convince herself.

“Would you care for a dance?”

The question came in a matter of seconds. Straight-laced, firm, not sounding even the least hesitant.

The hesitancy she expected radiated off of her, instead. He chuckled at the baffled expression on her face, his lips curving into the barest hint of a smile.

Naturally, Victoria wasn't quick to accept. She took a step back, one foot forward and the other backward, she folded her arms across her chest.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Then beg.”

“Don't play games with me, Draconia.”

“And what makes you think this is a game, Shard?”

“You don't have a reason to dance with me. Not willingly,” Victoria took another step, this time towards him. “Have you perhaps been spiked with some sort of hallucinating serum?”

Malleus scoffed. “Don't be daft…” yet he didn't say anything to what she'd said before that inquiry.

“Being daft is more in character for you,” Victoria said in a mockingly crooning tone, clasping her hands together and bringing them close to her cheeks, rocking slowly.

“You are crossing a line.”

“I've crossed many bridges, Draconia. All I've done after is watch them burn.”

“Do you only speak in metaphors?”

“Do you do nothing but annoy me for your entertainment?”

To which Malleus gritted out, “A dance is all I ask of you.” It seemed she'd done her job of tugging at his strings well enough.

Her lips curved. “And why do you think I'd agree to something like that?” They stared each other down, eyes blazing in intensity.

Malleus held out his hand to her, his eyes glowing under the darkness of the hall. There was a strange tug in Victoria's system, somehow urging her — convincing her — to take that step closer and intertwine her hand with his.

Malleus guided her to a vacant music room. It seemed to be lacking in actual use, all the inhabiting instruments covered in dust and stained with a spider's intricate cobweb.

Victoria sent him a look. He knew she was wondering how he'd come to discover this room, but he was better off ignoring the silent question for now.

Bringing forth a self-conducted orchestra was as easy as flicking Malleus' wrist. The instruments burst with life, floating mid-air and playing a tune for them to dance to.

With a turn of his heel, Malleus went back to facing her. Victoria, dressed like some ghostly bride, iridescent in a dress so white it bordered on blue.

He bowed, even if it struck a chord in his pride to do so. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, wasn't it?

He heard her release a huff. He kept his eyes to the ground, hand still extended to brush against hers when she finally gave in and reciprocated.

The ends of Malleus' lips ticked upwards as he pulled her close, his free arm snaking around her waist.

Victoria already held a deep scowl in her eyes. It only seemed to deepen in intensity once he'd made that gesture clear to her. “Draconia…”

“And what is it now, Shard?” said Malleus, far too smug for the better of others, or his own.

“Don't act sly,” Victoria sneered, synchronizing with his movements. “You don't look good when you're sly.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “So when I'm not, I do?”

She didn't say anything about that comment. When he felt a sting of pain in his foot, he knew that she stomped on it with her heel.

Malleus was more surprised about the lack of a puncture wound than the pain itself. With how sharp her heels were, he half-expected his foot to start bleeding.

But did that stop Malleus Draconia, prince of the Briar Valley abyss, to move forward and engage in a waltz with her? No. No, it did not.

There was little surprise in the way their movements synchronized; Victoria made for both a formidable academic opponent, so Malleus felt little shock with her formidability on the dance floor.

“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” stated Malleus, giving Victoria a twirl. “When the celebrations came, I mean.”

“Tsk.” Victoria's footsteps were hard against the floorboards of the music room. “What, did you expect me to rejoice when the crimson blossoms wreaked havoc?”

“With the kind of woman you present yourself as, I would hardly be surprised if you feigned outrage.”

“I don't need to feign it when all I have to do is look at you.”

“How flattering.” Malleus' eyes rolled heavenward. Why should he bother at this point? No matter what he did, Victoria Shard would not take kindly to him being… well, himself.

He jolted, his face grimacing with a sudden hiss of his teeth. Shard…

He looked down at her, at her sapphire-like eyes and the smug look on her face that dared feign ignorance.

“Shard.” Malleus glowered.

Victoria huffed, and he could've sworn she was trying desperately hard not to laugh in his face. “What, Draconia? Already so tired from our dance to forfeit?”

If this were a challenge, Malleus made the immature decision of stepping up to the challenge.

This woman— Malleus thought with gritted teeth after each hard, deliberate stomp Victoria performed directly on to his feet. More likely than not, he'd lost count at how many times she'd done it.

Perhaps at some point, Zenith would give him some sort of petty participation award. Preferably titled, Endured being repeatedly stomped in the feet by Victoria Shard.

“In all my centuries of walking this land, never have I encountered a woman as egregious as you.”

“Then I find myself lucky.”

“You simply can't help but make my blood boil, can you?”

“Oh, Draconia.” Victoria batted her eyelashes with a croon.

“It's my favorite pastime.”

How crude of her. Malleus felt his pride get struck by some arrow. Be it an arrow from Orion, or one by Eros, he could not tell the difference.

He wanted, so badly, to put her in her place. To set his foot down and speak sternly, warning her not to be so bold in any future interactions between them.

But it was difficult. Difficult having to deal with a woman so high on her horse that she's arrogant enough to try and kick him off his; Difficult to constantly maintain order when it became very clear that it was the very thing she didn't want out of him.

Difficult to know that— no matter what he did— he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

He dared stared longer than necessary; at her frame, the dress she wore, the choker around her neck, the color of her eyes.

Her lips.

Malleus came to an abrupt halt. In doing so, so did Victoria, as were the instruments that only played at his command.

Victoria nearly stumbled, but the arm around the small of her back kept its grasp secure to prevent her from truly falling, lest her pride be wounded even more after agreeing to this.

“Draconia?” She'd called out to him, with an arch of her brow and a honeyed edge to her voice that made him want to fall apart.

Malleus remained ever still, unsure of what to make of himself after thinking such accursed thoughts. He barely heard her.

“Draconia?” She could repeat his name a thousand times, for the rest of time, and the only thing it would ever do to him was make his heart melt because she was saying his name.

He wasn't staring at her. Not directly. Not at her eyes, or any of her accessories— but at her lips. His eyes locked on to them, his breath uneasily jagged.

A part of him wanted to let go. To give in. To finally reach out and indulge in something for his own sake, and not for the sake of his kingdom, no matter what consequences he may face in the long run.

But he didn't. Malleus was better than that— his pride was better than to stoop to the levels of some desperate loon.

Victoria grew restless, calling out to him once more. “Draconia, speak,” she demanded. “Say something, damn it. I don't care what you have to say, just say—”

A small yelp came out of her as Malleus pulled her closer, their noses brushing. Neither of the two tried to break the gazes they held— though in the case of Victoria, her eyes seemed wide in a manner that, to Malleus, appeared almost otherworldly.

The hand that intertwined with hers broke free of its own iron grip, soon making itself known by caressing her cheek. His thumb brushed over her lips, but this time his gaze never wavered while looking into her eyes.

That familiar, gorgeous ocean-like pool that he'd drown in, for as long as time would allow him to.

Seldom were the visions that plagued his mind. He shan't bring himself to indulge himself. For the good of his people, of his kingdom.

Of himself.

“Save your voice for after our waltz, my sweet villain.”

“... What the hell am I looking at?”

Miren rubbed his eyes a good three times, blinking all the while and even going as far as pinching himself. Anything to try and prove to him that what he was looking at was a dream.

Turns out it wasn't.

There he was, Malleus Draconia — prince of Briar Valley, ruler of the abyss — dancing with Victoria Shard.

“Well this just got interesting,” uttered Rosemi, lightly shoving Miren to the side so she too could take a peek through the barley open doorway.

Miren's eyes narrowed. “Rosemi.”

“Miren.” Rosemi’s voice remained perfectly pleasant, a tight-lipped smile on her face as she maintained her focus on the incredulous sight before her and not the glutton beside her.

“Oho, how scandalous, Miss Shard…”

Miren grimaced. Maybe it was the weird mumbling on Rosemi's part that was getting to him, but a part of him felt… bewildered? Regret? Whatever it was, Malleus and Victoria dancing was the source of it all.

But the moment looked — and felt — intimate. Peaceful. A calm before a storm that Miren didn't know when it could strike.

Yet Miren was no stranger to the obvious look in Malleus' eyes. His lips pursed, unsure of what to think.

Perhaps it was best to keep his thoughts to himself.

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of Character appearances/mentions

Malleus Draconia

Victoria Shard — Me 😈

Zenith Devi — Also me 😈

Miren Lockhart — @authoruio

Rosemi Columbina — Also @/authoruio

@starry-night-rose | @jasdiary | @nem0-nee | @fumikomiyasaki | @sakuramidnight15 | @geminiiviolets | @valse-a-mille-temps | @hallowed-delights / @terrovaniadorm | @twistedsongstressofstarz | @twsted-princess @mystery-skulls-ghost | @absolutelyobsessedkiya | @lueerhythm | @cecilebutcher

[pebblezone]

I understand her on a molecular level

[doingitbrokenhearted]

well... hello to you too i suppose