Day 3: Some Kind of Knight and Not a Wicked Prince
@princeofsinweek
A/N: The princes had lead their courts for centuries. What happens when they meet their match. How the Princes react to you taking charge.
Warnings: Hints of smut, KOTW themes
Prince Wrath
 During a Crisis
Instinctively, he steps forward to lead since he is the General. but when you steps up first with clear authority. Then he stops, watches, and lets you take command.
Every order from your mouth is a spark in his chest. His golden eyes darken with each confident command knowing he had found his equal.Â
If soldiers hesitate to follow you, his voice cuts through: âDid you not hear my general?â (He definitely is not above dropping a mountain on anyone who questions Wrathâs equal.
When itâs over, heâs bruised, bloody, and proud. âYou were magnificent,â he says simply. As he plots how he will get you down to the Hell library for a reward.
 In Court
His patience for politics is thin, itâs one of the things he does not particularly enjoy about ruling. So heâs grateful when you handle it with precision.
The first time you dominate a negotiation, he sits back on his throne, smirks and murmurs, âYou just conquered without lifting a blade.â
Courtiers learn quickly, when you speak, Wrathâs silent approval is warning enough. Do not mess with what is his.
If a courtier challenges you, you can bet he will level the courtier if you donât beat him to it.Â
He loves seeing you fight passionately for what you believe and if you exhibit his sin while doing itâŠoh he will be waiting to kick everyone out of the throne room to show you what you do to him.
After meetings, he pours you demonberry wine himself, muttering, âIâve never found diplomacy so attractive.âÂ
Your composure reminds him that strength isnât always loud, sometimes itâs elegance with teeth.
In the BedroomÂ
He loves it when you set the pace. Especially when you have that look of conquering. Oh! Wrath is telling you that he is at your command.
Loves being challenged; your control sharpens his restraint. Though he also loves testing your control tooâŠ
When you touch him with purpose, his breath catches, and he admits softly, âYou undo me more efficiently than war.â
Sometimes he will let you chain him up. But be prepared for him to flip it on you later.
In Domestic Life
Pretends to complain about you giving orders, but follows them to the letter.Â
Loves calling you his queen/king whenever he can.Â
You organize; he builds. You cook; he taste-tests (happily! Heâs the Cannoli King). You two function like a battle-honed team.
He loves pushing your buttons with minor things. Anger is his aphrodisiac. He knows what heâs doing.
Loves domestic simplicity because it feels like peace, and you are his peace.
Your leadership at home reminds him not all battles require armor.
Prince Pride
 During a Crisis
His instinct is to lead, but watching you do it makes him pause in genuine admiration.
If someone questions your orders, his sharp tone ends it: âMy wife/husband speaks for both of us.â
He doesnât like being overshadowed, yet your brilliance feeds his pride instead of wounding it.
He, like Wrath, will often sit back and watch you with admiration as you take the lead.
Later, he tells you in private, âIâve ruled centuries, and still you make me feel like Iâm learning.â
He boasts about your victory to everyone afterwardâŠin extensive detail.
 In Court
Stands a step behind your throne or sit on the arm of your throne deliberately, the perfect show of support and power combined.
Corrects anyone who addresses him instead of you: âYou were speaking to her/his Majesty, were you not?â
Thrives on your dynamic; you grace and his grandeur. Together, you two command every gaze.
He definitely would love to compliment you in front of his court.Â
Afterwards, he praises you endlessly, voice thick with affection and ego: âNo one commands a court like my queen/king.â
Every triumph of yours feels like his because, in his mind, youâre an extension of his own perfection.
 In the BedroomÂ
When you take charge, he fights the urge to tease you, then loses the battle entirely. âTrying to impress me, love?â
I am convinced Pride would love you taking control. Having him on his knees worshipping your body.Â
Secretly revels in it. It humbles and excites him in ways heâll never admit aloud.
Watch your every move with reverence, memorizing the way you lead. Tracking how slow your fingers move, removing clothing or slowly tracing your fingers along his body.Â
Will praise you afterward, softly but seriously: âThat was... regal.â
Finds your power intoxicating because it mirrors what he values most, control executed flawlessly.
 In Domestic Life
Declares heâs in charge, yet follows every plan you make.
Making this canon too mwahaha, he can get needy⊠following you everywhere and hating when you go off on your own to do a task or travel.
Loves the way she commands servants, schedules, and routine like a queen/king of small empires.
Occasionally rearranges things just to see you reassert authority, itâs his version of flirting.
Says things like, âYou make domesticity look divine. I almost envy it.â
Prince Greed
During a Crisis
Finds your leadership enthralling, crisis or not, heâs captivated by your confidence.
Like his brothers, he will quietly watch with pride in his eyes as you take the lead.Â
He loves when you are in charge.
If youâre shouting orders, heâs already in motion, ready to give you whatever you need to succeed.Â
Heâll eye his soldiers who move too slowly or hesitate with a warning glare.Â
Loves how you don't hesitate to claim control; to him, thatâs a prize worth hoarding.
When itâs over, he murmurs, âYou just proved youâre the rarest treasure in all creation.â
Never lets you forget that your competence is his greatest obsession. Definitely praising you in many ways afterwards.
 In Court
Proudly indulgent; supplies you with gold, jewels, and arguments that make you shine.Â
He definitely makes sure your wardrobe is as deadly as your words.Â
Whispers mid-meeting, âTake it. Itâs already yours,â when negotiating.
Treats your victories like trophies.
Defends you fiercely against any insult, no one devalues what he treasures.
He might take a page out of Wrathâs book and remove a tongue or two.Â
After court, he rewards you with lavish gifts as if to say: Your success is worth its weight in everything. And he will reward you on his throne.
 In the Bedroom
Watches you take the lead like a worshiper at an altar. This demon prince will happily get on his knees for his love.
Your confidence is the most expensive thing he owns, and he knows it.Â
Loves praising you and reminding you that you are the most valuable thing he has.Â
âYou own me,â he will tell you as you take the lead in the bedroom.Â
Whispers, âCommand me, love. Iâll never tire of your demands.
Responds to your authority with indulgent praise and devotion..
In Domestic Life
Buys whatever you need before you even ask because having you comfortable profits him emotionally.
Loves when you take charge of his house of sin; it means youâre s claiming something he also loves.
Collects your routines like treasures: the way you hum, organize, and plan.
Your domestic life is luxury and laughter in equal measure.
Prince Gluttony
 During a Crisis
Panic doesnât last long; seeing you step up steadies him.Â
Becomes hyper-focused on your voice, following your commands without question.
The more chaotic the scene, the calmer he gets under your leadership.
If you are leading a hunt with him, you can bet he is plotting how he will celebrate your leadership later that night.
When itâs over, he teases lightly to mask his awe: âDidnât know watching you save lives would be such a turn-on.â
Deep down, heâs addicted to your confidence, itâs another flavor he craves.
In Court
Let's you dominate conversation while he lounges with a drink, eyes full of pride.
Definitely has two thrones for you two. He wants everyone to know you are equals
In the beginning he may not have the second throne so he has you sit on his throne and lead from there while he sits on the arm or stands beside it.Â
Interrupts only to affirm you with lazy charm
If someone insults you, the mask drops and his smile turns venomous. But he doesnât step in unless you allow him to. He know you can handle your own.
Afterward, he brags to his circle: âDid you see Y/N? I could dine on that brilliance for years.â
He is definitely feasting on you on his throne after court.Â
Adoration is his constant, you contro his favorite indulgence.
 In the Bedroom
Loves to obey. Itâs not submission; itâs devotion in its purest, hungriest form.
Want to tie him up? He is ready! Want to tease him until he questions his faith? He will happily do it! But be prepared for him to take back control later and reciprocate with even more effort.Â
Every soft command she gives makes him melt. âAgain,â heâll whisper. âSay it again.â
Finds peace in letting you guide pace and rhythm.Â
He loves when you push back against him or boss him around.Â
When youâre in control, he feels fed; emotionally and spiritually.
Afterwards, he thanks you like you are a meal that nourished more than his body.
In Domestic Life
If youâre cooking, heâs right there to taste-test and compliment everything. He might also try to assist but cause more distractions than anything.
Lets you control your routine. He enjoys watching you make order from chaos.
Jokes that youâre the only person who can curb his excesses.
Loves slow mornings where youâre the one directing your time together.
Every mundane task becomes a feast when youâre the one in charge.
He often plans the dates but when you lead he loves it because it reaffirms your love for him.
Prince Sloth
During a Crisis
Appears detached, but you know thatâs when his eyes narrow, heâs thinking.
If you take control, he lets you, quietly lending advice only when needed.
When you fix a problem he predicted, he just hums approvingly.
Later: âSee? Told you youâd handle it.â
Crisis solved, heâs already planning a trip to the sauna with you before taking you to bed to read and snack.
 In Court
Leans back, letting you manage conversation while he watches you shine. He knows you got this and donât need his help.
Steps in with a perfectly timed remark that ends arguments instantly.
Your leadership is his rest. You keep things running, he ensures they stay efficient.Â
If anyone doubts you, his soft-spoken words carry enough weight to crush reputations.
After, he thanks you for saving him hours of talking. A lazy smile on his face as he watches you take a seat on your throne, tired of the day.
In the BedroomÂ
Loves letting you take control. It allows him to study you and track each bit of pleasure for future use.
Loves you steady rhythm and confidence. âYouâre my peace,â he murmurs.
Your authority melts into intimacy and calm.
Your moments together are quiet, balanced, and grounding.
In Domestic Life
Will follow your lists without complaint, if you write them for him.
You two definitely have a mini bookclub where you take turns choosing a book for the week. When itâs your turn to lead he lets you. His attention to you.
Appreciates your organization because it means fewer interruptions to his naps and reading.
You keep things running smoothly; he keeps things peaceful.
When you scold him for dozing mid-task, or sneaking off during a party at one of his brotherâs circles, he smiles: âYou run this place beautifully. Why would I interfere?â
Domestic life with him is unhurried harmony.
Prince Lust
During a Crisis
Focuses entirely on you; your voice, your expression, your command. This demon ignores anything else.
Encourages you subtly: âYes, love. Keep going. Theyâll follow you.â
His charm becomes weaponized to back you up, drawing attention so you can lead.
Afterward, tells you, âYou were breathtaking. Power suits you.â
He definitely rewards you afterwards.
Your confidence, to him, is the purest kind of allure.
Wouldnât be surprised if he is plotting ways to worship you after you skillfully averted a crisis for him.
In Court
Stands close, deliberately making you the center of attention.
Flirts with danger by letting you lead; it thrills him to see you handle the crowd.
If nobles underestimate you, his smile turns razor-sharp: âUnderestimate Y/n again. Please.â Lust would challenge the noble. Donât let his lightheartedness fool you. He could be just as wicked as his brothers.
Later, he tells you, âYou donât just command them, you seduce the whole room with grace.â
Every time she takes charge, he falls a little harder. And he shows you how hard he has fallen.
In the Bedroom
Your authority excites him.Â
This demon prince is kinky, you know he is happy to let you lead knowing that it will bring you both immense pleasure.
He lets you guide everything, not as surrender but as worship.And he loves to worship.
Whispers, âYouâre divine like this. Donât stop.â Especially if you are on top. He enjoys the view.
Sees you confidence as beauty incarnate, it inspires his gentlest affection.
Power and trust intertwine, thatâs Lustâs real devotion.
 In Domestic Life
Constantly teasing you while obeying your directions to the letter.Â
Loves watching you plan and organize, itâs your way of caring, and he knows it.
Says things like, âYou rule even our mornings, darling. Iâm helpless.â
Prince Envy
During a Crisis
Canât help but watch you lead with a mix of admiration and ache.
If you outshine him, it stings, but only briefly. Then pride replaces the envy.
Always follows your orders, even if his jaw is clenched the whole time.
Afterward, heâs quiet, murmuring, âYou were incredible,â almost shy.
Each crisis teaches him your power doesnât lessen his, it strengthens both.
 In Court
Stays silent but observant, watching the way the court responds to you.
Pride and jealousy flicker like a duel behind his eyes.
Tries his hardest not to argue or undermine you.Â
Definitely makes sure your wardrobe makes others envious.Â
Also makes sure his gestures to you makes others envious too.
If anyone tries to undermine you, his venomous wit ends them with precision.
Later, admits softly, âYou made them all look small today.â
Secretly adores your confidence because it makes him feel chosen by someone extraordinary.
Worships you on his throne. Definitely putting that mirror to use.Â
âLook at my queen/king, first you conquer my court and now me.â He says while you ride him.
 In the BedroomÂ
Finds peace in your command; it reassures him that you want him.
You control his insecurities. âYou still want me?â heâll ask softly.
Loves the gentleness behind your confidence, itâs dominance without cruelty.
Watches you lead, awed, and whispers, âYouâre everything I canât be, and I love you for it.â
In Domestic Life
Sulks when you rearrange things, but secretly likes the order. Especially when you pick the artwork in his house.
Acts jealous of your efficiency but depends on it.
Occasionally insists on helping, even if heâs terrible at it, just to feel useful.
Later apologizes: âYouâre better at this than I am. I just⊠wanted to matter.â
Your steady control gives him something solid to hold onto in his storms.
He secretly loves when you give him words of affirmation.Â
Like Pride, he definitely gets needy. He does not like when you leave him for duties or travel.Â
A/N: Happy day 2! I have a few fics for today and I hope you all love them! This is for Prince Sloth who experiences lust courtesy of Lustâs emissary. This day is a very interesting one because the princes do not like experiencing their brothersâ sins. I think Sloth is one of the more controlled brothers in the way he doesnât often succumb to others sins but when he does it stirs in a way that both intrigues him and scares him.Â
Warnings: KOTW themes
Prince Sloth was not one to often give into one of his brotherâs sins. He was careful, calculating and as many believed, one who enjoyed the quiet. So coming to a house Lust party to watch one of Lustâs favorite demons dance and laugh and flirt was not something any of his brothers had expected him to do. And yet⊠Here he was not off in a corner reading but standing at the edge of the dance floor nursing a glass of champagne as he watched and studied the form of his new fascination.Â
âSloth?â Lust asked curiosity in his charcoal eyes, there was also a hint of amusement because Sloth had asked for entry into his circle four days in a row. âWhat exactly are you doing?â
Sloth reluctantly peeled his eyes from his fascination to look at his brother. âCan I not just visit?â Not a lie because it was a question. He was surely not going to confess to an infatuation with one of Lustâs emissaries who had appeared in his circle with communications from their prince. He was definitely not going to confess how y/n had captured his mind in ways no text had ever. No, Lust would run with this information and gossip to no end and somehow scare off his emissary.
Lust arched an elegant brow, swirling his wine as if to mask the wicked grin tugging at his lips. âVisit? My dear brother, the day you choose to âvisitâ a party rather than avoid one is the day Wrath takes up embroidery.â
âPerhaps Iâve turned over a new leaf.â Sloth says, taking a sip of his drink.Â
âOr perhaps,â Lust drawled, stepping closer, âyouâve turned your gaze toward something particular. Maybe my adorable emissary who I have been sending to your circle for months now?â
Slothâs eyes flicked back to the dance floor despite himself. You were laughing again. Head tilted, light catching on your throat as you spun away from your partner. It was the kind of laugh that carried warmth into places that had long been cold.
He swallowed. âTheyâre... spirited.â
âSpirited?â Lust echoed, amusement gleaming like a knife. âThatâs what weâre calling it?â
Slothâs voice stayed even, but the hand around his glass tightened. âItâs a compliment.â
âMm.â Lust leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial purr. âThen why is your pulse doing that? You look like a starving man pretending he doesnât smell bread. If I didnât know any better, I may think you are toeing the line of my sin.â
Slothâs jaw flexed. âYou see hunger everywhere, brother. Itâs your curse.â
âAnd yours,â Lust said softly, âis thinking you can watch without wanting.â
Sloth turned to respondâbut you were suddenly there, crossing the floor in a shimmer of laughter and movement, a touch of perfume trailing behind like a spell. You offered a polite bow to Lust before your gaze found Sloth, mischief lighting your irises.
âPrince Sloth,â you greeted, smiling just enough to undo him. And it was working. âYou look... awake tonight.â
He blinked, momentarily forgetting to breathe. âI was told itâs impolite to sleep at another princeâs gathering.â
You laughed, the sound lighting something low in his chest. âGood to know you can be convinced to stay upright when properly motivated.â
Lustâs smirk deepened. âCareful, little one. You might just be the first creature in existence to tempt him out of bed for something other than a nap.â
âTemptation is your circleâs specialty,â Sloth said, his tone even, but his gaze didnât leave yours. âPerhaps Iâm simply appreciating the craftsmanship.â
You tilted your head, curiosity softening your grin. âAnd you would know how to appreciate it, given your extensive library.âÂ
âPardon?âÂ
âYour library has a whole section on the art of seduction,â you pointed out, âI noticed it during my last visit. Surely that means you are well versed in the topic to appreciate it. Perhaps you can show it to me on my next visit.â
Lust let out a strangled sound and you just gave him a wicked smile.
For the first time in centuries, Sloth didnât have an answer ready. He only watched you. Your mouth, your eyes, the small, deliberate pause before you turned to walk away. Every instinct in him, ancient and slow, screamed to let you go. To return to stillness.
And yetâŠÂ
His hand twitched, as though reaching out might keep you there a second longer. He didnât. But the want was there, coiling tight in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar.
Lust leaned closer, whispering with a smile that wasnât unkind. âCareful, brother. Thatâs how it starts. One look. One heartbeat. Then youâll know what it is to ache. And y/n will make you ache.â
Sloth stared into the champagne glass, its golden bubbles reflecting the light of the dance floor and the way your laughter carried through it. As you returned to the dance floor.
He didnât answer. But his next breath trembled like a man whoâd forgotten how to sleep. He was losing his steady control to an emissary.
Lust watched him a moment longer, clearly savoring the rare sight of his brother coming undone. âYou know,â he murmured, taking a sip of his wine, âI should have sent them to your circle ages ago. Look at youâstanding, talking, even blinking on occasion. You donât even have a book in your pocket! I daresay they might be performing miracles.â
Sloth didnât rise to the bait this time. His gaze remained fixed on the dance floor, on the way your hand brushed your partnerâs arm as you turned, the soft light catching the curve of your smile.
âThey are playing with you,â Lust said, his tone fond and cruel all at once. âAnd itâs working beautifully.â
Slothâs fingers drummed once against his glass before he set it down. âThey are intelligent,â he said evenly. âObservant. Curious.â
âDangerous combination,â Lust hummed. âEspecially when they know youâre watching. That smile wasnât for their dance partner.â
Lustâs grin widened. âAm I? Then why are they glancing this way again?â
Slothâs heart stuttered, just slightly, but enough that Lustâs sharp gaze caught it. You were indeed looking in his direction, amusement flickering across your face like a secret you werenât yet ready to share.
You raised your glass to him in silent toast, lips curling around the rim as though aware of the effect it would have. Slothâs composure fractured by a hairâs breadth.
Lustâs laughter was quiet, wicked. âOh, brother. Youâre doomed. Youâve mistaken curiosity for safety. Do you know what happens when curiosity decides to test its theory?â
Sloth tore his gaze away at last, but it did nothing to loosen the knot in his chest. âIâll handle it.â
âI bet you will,â Lust purred. âAnd when you inevitably fail, do send me an invitation to your downfall. Iâd hate to miss it.â
But Sloth barely heard him. He didnât care if Lust gossiped to his brothers. He was infatuated, enchanted by you. Because as the night waned, his mind was no longer on the party, or the crowd, or even Lustâs smirk. It was caught on the echo of your words:
âPerhaps you can show it to me on my next visit.â
A challenge wrapped in silk.Â
And Sloth, the careful, calculating prince who never chased anything, realized with quiet horror that he wanted you to ask again. He wanted to show you everything. He would show you everything. Because he liked being around you. Desired your laugh and voice when you left. He needed more time with you. Craved your scent. Wondered what you would taste like⊠He was a scientist and he wanted to know everything about you.Â
When he finally left the party, the first hint of dawn catching in his pale hair, the champagne glass was empty and so was his composure. Heâd spent centuries mastering stillness and patience, yet one mortal heartbeat from you had stirred him to motion.
The sin of Lust might belong to his brother, but tonight it had found a new host.
A Decade - Prince Gluttony x OC!Lara Solaryn by @afandomangel
Favourite melody - Father!Wrath X Daughter!Euphemia X Mother!Emilia by @thestoryarchives
Bonfires - Prince Lust x Reader by @afandomangel
Can't believe it's already day 2! As a friendly reminder, please make sure you tag @princeofsinweek and #princeofsinweek2025 so I can find all the content. If I missed anyone please senf me a message and I will add you! Also, if you missed day 1 and want to post something, no worries! Post it and tag us so I can repost your work! All content is welcome as long as it is not AI generated art! Playlists, fics, headcannons, artwork, moodboards, all is welcome! And if you just want to support that is appreciated too! Please like, comment, and repost all the work so others can find our fandom!
A/N: Happy day 2! I have a few fics for today and I hope you all love them! The first is for Prince Pride who experiences wrath. This day is a very interesting one because the princes do not like experiencing their brothersâ sins.
Warnings: KOTW themes, exes mentioned, anxiety
The halls of House Pride were trembling. Ice crawling up the walls and floor as Pride moved quickly through his house of sin looking for Y/N.Â
The stained-glass skylight cast fractured gold across the marble, but the beauty was lost on him. His magic pulsed in erratic bursts, rolling like thunder beneath his skin. Servants had long since fled. Even the marble lions carved along the pillars seemed to avert their eyes from their masterâs rage. His subjects quivered when they felt their prince's wrath, reliving when Lucia had left him all over again.
She was gone.
He had searched every corridor, every garden, every balcony overlooking the city below. Her scent lingered faintly, a trace of warm honey and parchment, but her presence was gone, snuffed out like the last candle in a storm.
No note. No message. Nothing.
Just silence. When he awoke that morning to an empty bed.Â
His jaw locked until it ached. âNot again,â Pride whispered. The words trembled against his control.
The last time heâd felt this way was when Lucia had left. No explanation. No farewell. Just her absence echoing through eternity. Heâd spent years pretending it hadnât destroyed him, pretending that kings do not bleed as he drowned himself in drink and lovers.
But they do.
And when they do, it burns.
He has thought y/n was different. That she wouldnât leave him like Lucia. But maybe it was his pride talking because she was gone.
A shattering sound cracked through the chamber â the mirror above the mantle fracturing under his magic. Gilded shards fell like dying stars. His reflection stared back in pieces â a king undone by his own sin.
Then a ripple of energy surged through the air, heavy with divine heat and smoke. Wrath appeared in the doorway, black coat unbuttoned, golden eyes flaring with irritation.
âBrother,â Wrath drawled, though there was a warning edge beneath the calm. âI felt your temper all the way from my Circle. Care to tell me why your palace feels like itâs about to implode?â
Pride tried to ignore the unannounced visit. His brothers were not allowed to enter anotherâs circle without permission. He should stab his brother and send him back but he couldnât. His pride and wrath was controlling him.
âSheâs gone.â Prideâs voice cracked like ice. âVanished. No one saw her leave.â
Wrathâs gaze sharpened. âGone,â he repeated slowly. âYou think she left you?â
The word left hit like a blade.
âI know she did,â Pride bit out, though there was uncertainty beneath the fury. âJust like Lucia. Just likeââ
âEnough,â Wrath interrupted, his tone cutting but steady. âDonât do this to yourself. Y/n is not Lucia.â
Pride turned, his silvery blue irises burning. âYou donât understand. I give everything, Wrath. Loyalty. Luxury. Love.â He spat the last word like it was poison. âAnd still they leave me. Do you know what that does to my pride?â
Wrath crossed his arms, unbothered by the heat rolling off him. âI know exactly what it does. It makes you blind.â
But before Pride could respond, the heavy doors creaked open.
A soft voice, the one that haunted his thoughts and dreams, that pulled him from his drunken depression years ago, broke the silence. âPride?â
He froze. The magic flooding the room stuttered, faltered, then surged again with something sharper. Panic.
She stood in the doorway, cheeks flushed from the cold, hands clutching a small box tied with silk ribbon. âWhere were you?â he demanded, the words leaving him in a snarl before reason could stop them. âDo you have any idea whatââ
Her eyes widened at the volume. Her gloved hands tightening on the small box as if it would be a shield against him.
He didnât stop. Couldnât. âI searched the entire court! I nearly tore through the wards looking for you, and youââ He broke off, pacing like a caged thing. âYou vanished. Without a word. Withoutââ
Her lip trembled.
And then he saw it. A single tear sliding down her rosey cheek.
âIâm sorry,â she whispered, voice small and trembling. âI wanted to surprise you.â
The words cut through the wrath like a blade through silk. His fury collapsed in on itself, leaving nothing but silence and regret. The realization hit him with such force he staggered a step back.
Wrath exhaled softly behind him, murmuring, âIâll leave you to it,â before vanishing in smoke.Â
Prideâs throat constricted. He reached for her. Stopped. Then finally touched her cheek, thumb catching the tear. âYou⊠wanted to surprise me?â he managed, voice low, raw.
She nodded, holding out the small box. âI went into town. Youâve been working so hard⊠I thoughtââ
He took the box with trembling fingers. Inside, nestled on velvet, was a gold lion pin shaped with delicate artistry; his crest, refined and humanized, as if she had tried to soften the symbol of his arrogance into something tender. It was one of the sweetest gestures anyone had done for him. She didnât expect anything in return like most would. It was one of things he loved so much about her.
His chest ached. The wrath was gone now, replaced by something heavier: shame.
âI frightened you,â he said, though it wasnât quite an apology. His pride wouldnât allow that word to leave his tongue.
She sniffed, nodding faintly.
âI thoughtâŠâ He exhaled through his teeth, his voice a quiet rasp. âYou had left me. Like she did.â
Her gaze softened. âIâm not her.â
âI know.â His jaw tightened. He wanted to say Iâm sorry. He wanted to beg for forgiveness. But his sin strangled the words before they could form. Instead, he drew her closer, forehead pressing against hers. âNext time,â he said against her hair, âdonât go without telling me. Even if it ruins the surprise.â
A small, shaky laugh escaped her. âYes, my prideful prince.â
He closed his eyes at that, the title both balm and curse. His thumb traced her jaw, reverent now. âYou terrify me,â he whispered. And it was the truth, because she had been his undoing. Pulling him from his debauched rake persona. Sobering him with a laugh or making him want to drop to his knees with her sharp tongue. She terrified him for many reasons but the fear of losing her scared him most of all, because he didnât think he would survive her loss.
Her fingers curled into his coat. âThen weâre even.â
He finally smiled faint, weary, and human. âNext time, Iâll try to remember that love is not a crown I can command.â
She rose on her toes and kissed him, soft and forgiving.
And for the first time in centuries, Pride let the wrath go.
I planned to upload this earlier today (UK time) but Iâve been busy with uni work, mostly my first time writing a report and a group project making me wanna slam my head into a wall, but I managed to do my final revisions and upload it before the end of the day, yay! Tomorrowâs probably also gonna be late. I may not even be able to post it until the the third day, since I do have school then, but after tomorrow, but Monday is the last day before I have over a week off for assignments, and fics, after that, Iâll be off from early(ish) December to late January. Iâm also focusing on writing an original story. Iâm just in the plotting phases but lmk if you wanna hear about it. Until then, please enjoy this fic, and I canât wait to see all of the amazing content this week! Thank you @princeofsinweek for creating this event!
Day 1: Dancing at a bonfire
Favourite melody - Father!Wrath X Daughter!Euphemia X Mother!Emilia
WC: 1698
TW: Nothing but fluff. And mentions of canon typical violence. None of it is carried out, just talked about.
With the final stroke of the bow, strum of the cello, demons halt in their steps. Faces are flushed, and eyes twinkle as they bow once more to their partners. Some remain reluctant to step away, while the sound of clicking heels amongst the chatter hint that others canât get away fast enough. Amongst them, the King of Hell stood, eyes glued on his wife, whoâs nails trailed from his shoulder, up to his jaw. Wrathâs eyes flickered from her to her perfectly manicured nails, and a sinful smile spreads across his face. His lips had barely parted before a high pitched scream rang out across the ball room, gathering many eyes.
âDaddy! Mama! Help! Iâm being kidnapped!â
Ebony wings snapped free, casting a shadow across ornate ballroom. His house dagger is drawn before he makes it three steps away. Frightened murmurs are sent to the back of his mind. The frenzied footsteps of demons rushing out of his way go in one ear and out the other. For the first time in perhaps centuries, Wrath was aware of every vein in his body. Every breath, every step, felt like another century.
At the other end of obscenely decorated ballroom, demons had clustered together. Wrath didnât stop to consider the murmurs rippling through the crowd, or even turn to see if Emilia had followed. No. The crowd barely parted fast enough for him to make his way too where his daughter continued to shriek. His eyes zeroed in on large hand loosely holding onto her wrist as she stomped screamed and stomped.
âItâs your fault sheâs like this you know.â It wasnât until he felt his wifeâs hand on his arm that Wrath fully processed the words heâd heard. Lust, meanwhile, didnât even bother to glance at his brother. Nor did he seem particularly phased by the ice coating half of Envyâs throne room. Instead, he raised an unimpressed brow as Euphemia stomped her little pink dolly shoes against polished dress shoes with all the might her little body could muster. Of all the things she had to inherit, did your dramatics have to be one of them?â
Wrath stiffly cocked his head, eyeing his brother, who pretended not to notice the tick in his jaw as he stared down at his niece. The temperature dropped, and any remaining sounds, be they from gossiping courtiers or lords and ladies whispering of sneaking to a more private space nearby, ceased. Ice creeped up the wall, over ornate frames and even began spreading across the ceiling. Perhaps Envy and Camilla disappearing from their own party wasnât such a bad thing after all. Every eye in the court had turned to them, and nearby nobles dared not even inch backwards in the face of their kingâs fury, least of all when it was directed at another princes.
But, it seemed those of divine ordainment had yet to abandon them entirely.
Before Wrath could gut his brother, a warm hand pressed against his forearm. His eyes slid to his wife, but she payed him no mid as she stepped forward.
âLust.â Her voice rang out in the silence of the party, the warmth masking all but a spark of the fire that longed to reduce her brother in law to cinders at this moment. âWhat *exactly* do you think youâre doing?â
Lust shot her an amused grin.
âI was just offering my precious niece the chance to share a dance with her *favourite* uncle, but she seems to have inherited her fatherâs dramatics and just started attacking me!â
Wrathâs brow twitched. Emiliaâs gaze shifted to her fussy daughter. She hadnât shrieked or squirmed like this since she was a toddler throwing tantrums.
âMama! Uncle Lust is kidnapping me!â
She let out a breath, before gliding forward and gently removing Lustâs grip, despite his protests. Euphemia immediately clutched at her motherâs skirts, glaring daggers at her uncle, who shot her an equally unimpressed stare right back.
âLust, Iâm sure you have a surplus of willing dance partners waiting,â she sighed, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. âIf none of them are to your liking,â she continued, upon seeing him open his mouth to protest, âthen go find Sloth and have him dance with you instead.â
Wrath snorted that, while Lust brought a hand to his chin, seemingly thinking it over. Emilia swore she felt the temperature just around her drop another degrees or two, and new set of eyes, far less reluctant than any lord or lady, land on her the very moment the suggestion came out of her mouth. Sheâd be sure to watch her back, perhaps cast a few more protection spells, at the next party Sloth was attending. Just in case.
Before she could contemplate it any further, Lust had already slunk off, likely to find his bibliophile brother, and the room began to return to a normal temperature. Demons reluctantly returned to their conversation.
Gentle tugging at her skirt drew her attention, and her gown splayed out like a flower as she knelt before her princess. With warm hands, she cupped Euphemiaâs cheek, thumb gently tracing over the coal hue that had been dusted over her olive complexion. Her makeup was very minimum, but the blush, neutral eyeshadow, and clear lipgloss was the extent of which makeup she was allowed at her age.
âI know you love your family, my lovely. And I know you love to tease Uncle Lust, but that was going a tad far, donât you think?â Emilia asked, her free hand moving to stroke her daughterâs long, silvery hair. âYou had your father and me very worried when you began screaming.â
ââM sorry, Mama. Sorry daddy.â Her voice was a Low murmur in the room of demonic nobles.
Wrath settled at her side, pressing a soft kiss to her brow.
âJust, consider yelling something else the next time your uncle is doing something that warrants punishment, Filia,â Wrath offers. âOr just stab him your-â
Emiliaâs jabs at his ribs with her elbow, a scowl on her face. Wrath merely shoots her a mischievous grin. She sighs, turning her attention back Euphemia, ready to put this entire thing to rest.
âIs there a reason you didnât want to dance with your Uncle? You had so much fun with him at the last ball. I think the only reason you regretted it was because you and Uncle Gluttony gorged yourselves on sweets *before* stepping onto the dance floor,â Wrath interjected, before Emilia could end the discussion.
Euphemia glanced around the crowded room, fidgeting under their gaze.
âLast time, I danced with mama first. This time, I wanted to dance with daddy first.â she shrugged, and Emilia felt her heart ache at her shyness. âBut you both looked so happy dancing together. I didnât want to interrupt.â
Wrath frowned, but Emilia immediately pulled her daughter close.
âOh, you donât have to hold back what you want Euphy,â she coos, then pulls back. âIf you wanna dance with either of us, then just ask.â
Wrath hums in agreement, gently stroking the top of her head. They smile at the delighted giggle that escapes her, even as several eyes turn their way. Curious, but not foolish enough to intrude on the moment.
âThis applies to all matters, Euphy. If you want something, ask. Especially since youâll be attending more balls once youâre older. At some point, other nobles will start coming to you with offers to dace. Youâll learn how to respond in your lessons, so remember them.â
Euphemia nods, and her chest lightens at the thought of covering something so fun in her etiquette lessons. Fantasies of dance practicies with her parents, and showing off to her uncles float through her mind.
âBut, outside of what your tutors will no doubt tell you,â Wrath draws her attention back to the present, a scowl on his face. âRemember that if they get persistent, either gut them, or find one of us. Your mama, me, your uncles and aunties, it doesât matter. Weâll always protect you. Especially from foolish young demons whoâs pride grow too large for their heads.â
Emilia sighs.
âWhat your father means to say, is if someone you donât want to dance with bothers you, feel free to take punitive measures. Or, come find us, and weâll take them for you.â
Another flurry of giggles escape their daughter, leaving the King and Queen delighted.
Wrath rises to his feet, and moves just to her side before bending at the waist.
âCare for a dance, my lady?â He offers his daughter.
Emilia can see the delighted squeal building in her throat, but Euphemia clears her throat and steps back before it escapes.
âI would be honoured, you majesty.â She responded, giving a somewhat awkward curtsy before following him to the ballroom.
As the next song began, Emilia watched in delight as Wrath guided their daughter through the steps, grinning broadly at the excited giggles she couldnât seem to suppress. At some point, he began deviating from all standard dances all together, choosing to lift their princess towards the ceiling and spins her amongst the crowd. Some demons gawk from the sidelines, watching their King indulge his daughterâs free spirts, while others shot disapproving glares. Some mothers hid scowls behind pretty fans or dainty palms, murmuring what she can only assume are shrewd warnings and observations to their daughters.
She made a note to ask Fauna about it later. As of now, she slid her gaze back to her squealing daughter. Her gold eyes were bright with mischief and joy as Wrath spun her across the checkered dance floor. Her hair trailed behind her, gleaming under the lights like silver flames, and her pink gown billows out like shimmering rose with each turn.
Thinking back, Emilia canât recall a celebration that had ever felt as upbeat or lively as this, no matter how much joy she attributes, or fondly she looks back on each memory. Though, she supposed that none of the music at those other parties were accompanied by the delighted squeals and laughter of her daughter. That, she finds, That, she finds, is her most favourite melody.
Happy Prince of Sin Week! Hereâs another fic for day 1. This one is following Prince Lust. One thing I have always thought about is if Lust has ever been denied by someone and why not make it the reader from House Sloth! Mwahaha! I really want Lust to end up with a reader! Just imagine his struggle with someone who would rather read books than be seduced by a prince of sin. But this reader would also have to be a little outgoing and maybe they use their books as inspiration for playing this game of seduction with the prince.Â
The music swelled, low and thrumming, echoing through the bonfire circle like a heartbeat. It was one of his outdoor parties.The flames painted the grass in gold and crimson, and bodies moved in rhythm, sin given shape and breath.
From the edge of the dance circle Prince Lust watched, nursing his third glass of demon berry wine as if that would dull the raging demon inside him.It was a rare sight indeed. Usually, he was the one in the center; hands guiding, lips teasing, laughter sparking with every movement. But tonight, his gaze was caught by someone else.
One of Slothâs courtiers, if he remembered correctly. They werenât supposed to move like that. Slothâs followers were known for their languor, their half-lidded eyes and their noses often shoved in books. Most didnât even bother attending his events. This one was different.Â
Their movements were fire. Their laughter cut through the music light, unguarded. Every step defied expectation, every spin rejected his silent invitation.
Lustâs lips curved in intrigue.
He had tried to draw them in three times now. Once with a touch on the shoulder, once with a whispered invitation, and once, boldly, with an outstretched hand as the music slowed. Each time, they smiled, eyes gleaming with mischief, and refused.
It bothered him immensely. No one declined him. He was the prince of pleasure. His presence often incited skirt-lifting or trouser-dropping admiration within seconds of him giving that mortal attention. And yet, this demon hadnât even blushed at him. What. The. Fuck.Â
He took a long sip from his glass of wine, the rim glinting in the firelight. âYouâre making quite the spectacle,â murmured Pride beside him, watching with an amused smirk. His brother was in a rather jovial mood at his expense no doubt.
Lust didnât look away. âYouâd think Iâd be used to being denied by now.â
Pride chuckled. âYouâre not.â
âNo,â Lust agreed, the corner of his mouth lifting. âIâm not.â
The song shifted slower, heavier, heat rippling through the crowd. And finally, the dancer turned their head. For the first time, their gaze met him directly.
Lust felt it like a spark down his spine. It wasn't submission, nor temptation but a challenge.
They smiled and, instead of approaching, spun away again, vanishing into the crowd with a victorious laugh.
He exhaled a low laugh. âOh, youâre going to be trouble.â
And for the first time in decades, Lust stepped away from the dance floor, not toward it. Hunting not for pleasure, but for curiosity. He made a mental note to pay his lazy brother a visit and demand to know this courtierâs name and why they had not given into his charm.Â
Happy Prince of Sin Week! I am so excited for this week and the introduction to some projects that have lived in my mind for a while. This one will be a series but I wanted to give a little sampler of it for this week.
Background: The first two pieces are gossip columns from 10 years ago when Lara had been exiled from Seelie and was given the option to align with a House of Sin. The seven princes all wanted her because of her power but she didn't know where she fit best. So she was given a week in each house of sin. Gluttony's was the last and in that week they fell in love but that love turned into disaster on the last night when she had to choose a house to align with. Heartbroken she chose House Wrath. The last part is an interaction 10 years later during the reception at House Lust during Kingdom of the Feared.
Warnings: Cheating, language, KOTW themes, angst
10 years before...
Silver Spoons & SinsÂ
Special Edition â The Crown Tour
Seven Nights. Seven Houses. One Calculated Lady.
SHE TOOK A WEEK IN EVERY HOUSE. Lady Lara Solaryn, rumored to be exiled from the Royal House of Seelie, was rumored to have visited the tables of our Seven Princes â seven courteous nights that now read like a careful audit. Witnesses whisper she sampled warmth and counsel, then catalogued what each House might lend to her ambition. Was she researching rule⊠or shopping for a crown?Â
According to a source of House Gluttony, Lady Solaryn was graciously offered a position in one of the seven circles. After a failed assessment in the Sin Corridor, the seven princes graciously welcomed her into their houses of sin for a week each. Many say they caught Solaryn often flirting with the princes but had her sights on Prince Gluttony.Â
When it was Prince Gluttonyâs turn to host her, a source reported spotting Prince Gluttony and Lady Solaryn often in far intimate positions to be just research. It was quite odd to learn that she chose Prince Wrathâs circle in the end. Another source noted seeing Solaryn and Prince Gluttony shouting at each other in the halls of Gluttonyâs house of sin, on the last night.Â
Many speculate she is hoping to collect a crown. Will Prince Wrath be the next to endure her antics?
âïž Official Statement from His Highness, Prince Gluttony âïž
Issued to the Circles and Courts of the Realm (As recorded by the Gluttony Gazette and confirmed by Palace Heralds)
To my Circle,
In light of recent rumors regarding Lady Lara Solaryn and her time within my House, I find it necessary to offer clarification.
Let it be plainly stated: I have never courted Lady Lara Solaryn as consort, nor have I expressed desire to make her such. Acts of courtesy were extended in the spirit of hospitality, nothing more. To suggest otherwise is to mistake politeness for passion â an error unbecoming of any Court that values truth above titillation.
While I recognize Lady Laraâs charm and ambition, I must observe that ambition untethered by grace can often sour what was once sweet. Her choice to visit each House of Sin in turn was her own design, not mine; any implication that her presence was sanctioned as part of a courtship is false. Her week beneath my roof was spent in observation, not affection.
As for her recent declaration of loyalty to House Wrath â I wish her well. Though I suspect that path may yield more frustration than a crown, her pursuits are hers alone to bear. I harbor no bitterness, only the faint regret one feels upon tasting a fruit not yet ripe.
To my loyal subjects and admirers: let not gossip cloud our feast. Indulgence, after all, thrives on truth seasoned with restraint.
With tempered regard,
 â Prince Gluttony
10 years Later...
10 years. 10 years of careful avoiding. 10 years of avoiding the prince of indulgence for the sake of peaceâŠor what I could call peace at this point in my almost two and half centuries of life. My life was complicated for many reasons. Lineage to start; I was the daughter of the late Amalie Solaryn, the former heir of Seelie, and Brannan Solaryn. I had an amazing older brother, Alyx, who had been my protector and rock against the courtiers and the king of Seelie, our grandfather Morgans. The thing was, Brannan was not my biological father. Lennox, the Unseelie King, was and he had ruined my life in many ways including being my biological father, but also implanting a spy Cialan, and kidnapping my parents during the engagement party to Cialan that lead to him killing them. Lennox was the cause to me meeting the seven princes (a story for another day) and my exile from Seelie, leaving my brother alone as the new heir. Alas, the reason for my 10 years of careful avoidance was not for Lennox but for Prince Gluttony.Â
Courtiers of all seven circles were gathered in House Lust for the reception of Wrath and Emiliaâs union, and as Wrathâs third, I was expected to attend even if an ex was here. I carefully stuck myself with Anir and Fauna for the beginning of the event. Wrath and Emilia had yet to arrive.Â
âStop looking at the clock,â Fauna teased me, as I stared at the clock again, âpeople will talk about how Wrathâs third was bored and counted down the minutes to escape.âÂ
âThey wouldnât be wrong,â I admitted as we moved around the room, âI am counting down the minutes to escape. Before someone claims I was glaring at the prince of indulgence or something far more idiotic.â Lara smiled as one of Lustâs courtiers smiled at her.Â
âOh heâs handsome,â Fauna whispers and Anir shoots her a look.Â
âHe is,â I agree as I watch the courtier for a little longer before glancing up at the clock again.Â
âLady Lara,â Lust drawls as he approaches his shirt barely on, âwhy do you look like you are ready to scurry away? Canât be because my brother has made his arrival?â He smirks knowing that would get me to glance around for Gluttony. And sure enough he was standing beside Envy in a charcoal suit looking devastating â no horrific. Yes horrific.
âWell now that he is here, I definitely will be trying to make my escape.â I deadpan,Â
Lust chuckles shakinghis head at me, âhow will you insight my brother into his dramatic fits if you arenât here?âÂ
âHe will surely find someone to occupy him,â I hedge. Anir snorts. âNow if youâll excuse me, I need some air.â
I moved quickly to the balcony. My steps hurried as I smiled at courtiers but did not stop. I could feel the weight of his eyes on me and I wanted them off me before the reporters picked what was left me in the decade they smeared my name to write the net scandal sheet.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the cool night air. Laughter spilled from Lustâs ballroom â golden, glittering, and unbearably hollow. The scent of rose wine and sin lingered on the wind. I gripped the marble railing until my knuckles whitened. I had lasted an hour. That was enough, surely Wrath would forgive me for an early departure. He had always been forgiving when it came to my departures caused by Gluttony.
Stop thinking about him! I scolded myself as I tried not to allow my hands to claw at my ears. It was the one tick I could never get rid of after years of being in the seven circles.Â
âYou always did prefer the edges of rooms,â came a voice behind me â smooth, rich, too familiar.
I froze. My heart stuttered once, twice, before I found the strength to breathe again. Of course he would find me. He always did.
âI thought I made myself clear,â I said, staring out at the gardens, refusing to turn. âI didnât come here to talk to you.â
His steps were quiet, deliberate. âAnd yet,â Gluttony murmured, âyou always end up where I am.â
âDonât flatter yourself,â I said tightly. âI was here first. You followed me. Now go away before you give your reporters more fuel.â
He gave a soft laugh, humorless and bitter. âStill angry about a headline?â
It was never about the headline and more about the admirers who took it as gospel to attack me for a decade. But I did not say that. I swallowed and then I turned, slowly, until his face was before me â that same impossible mix of warmth and cruelty, eyes a beautiful hazel. âYou couldnât just let me leave,â I said, voice trembling. âYou had to make it seem like I was stealing your crown.â
âI told you I didnât write it,â he replied, tone even but his jaw tightening.
âAnd ten years later, youâve still done nothing to disprove it,â I bit out. âYouâve done nothing to find the one who did. Too convenient, isnât it? A lie that made you look wounded and me⊠ambitious.â
His eyes darkened, frustration flickering across his face. âYou think I wanted that? You think Iââ
âI saw you,â I snapped, the words breaking like glass between us. âYou told me you loved me. You told me to choose you and your Circle, and then you ran off to fââ I stopped, the breath catching painfully in my throat. âTell me,â I whispered, trembling. âDid it give you joy to treat me like ex-fiance in Seelie did? To make me fall in love with you and then rip the rug from beneath me? Or were you waiting to do it once I joined your Circle?â
âLara,â he said, my name a plea, âthatâs not what happenedââ
âI gave you everything,â I interrupted, stepping closer until I could feel the heat radiating off him. âI told you things Iâd never said to anyone. My fears. My insecurities. My nightmares.â My voice cracked. âI gave them to you because I trusted you! Because I thought youâd keep them safe! You became my everything in that week, hells when we first met! And you used my heart against me!â I got louder and louder forgetting the open door anyone could and most definitely did hear us. I jabbed my finger at his chest with each sentence. I was done shrugging things off.
His expression faltered, the composure slipping like a mask. âThatâs not fairââ
âFair?â I hissed. âYou have no idea what fair looks like. You broke something in me that I canât get back. Did that feed your hunger? Your grace? To leave me bloodied as you played the victim!â
We stood toe to toe now, too close, too raw. The air between us felt alive â like lightning before a storm. His eyes searched mine, desperate, but I wouldnât let him find what he was looking for.
âLara.â Wrathâs voice came from the balcony doorway, cold and commanding. âInside. Now.â
Neither of us moved. I stared at Gluttony, my heart pounding against my ribs, searching his face for truth, for remorse, for anything that would make the past ten years mean something other than what they were; ruin.
He opened his mouth, but I beat him to it. âJust fucking leave me alone,â I whispered, stepping back.
And this time, he did.
I brushed past him, the scent of him, smoke and sweet ruin clinging to the night air. Wrathâs eyes followed me as I walked inside, and for the first time in a decade, I didnât look back.
Excuse me while I go giggle and kick my feet at the current Throne of Nightmares teaser
I swear, Lore is going to be my new favorite FMC! She is getting every readers dream by getting her own dark prince! Poor Sloth isn't ready for this excited reader!
TBH I thought the feud was silly for it to be a decade. It didn't help that Gluttony kept the rivalry going with his parties and the table in the front. Imagine if they had talked it out instead of spending 10 years arguing. Maybe there wouldn't have been a dragon problem đ€
I mean... of course I want to be one of the prince's love interest! But if I had another role I think being a Gossip Sheet Reporter would be fun. (I'll just be Adrianađ)
Anir is my favorite! Alexei is a close second but Anir making the comment about their never being an era specifically about envy had me giggling in Kingdom of the Cursed đ
Background: Y/N is Wrathâs lover and just recently was brought into his circle. She really wants to explore his circle but he doesnât want her to get into danger.Â
A/N: Itâs been a minute! I really wanted to do a Wrath imagine so here it is! I have a few more WIPs to finish up but no timeline for when because I have been busy busy busy! Requests are still closed until I can make a commitment to get them done!
Warnings: KOTW themes, mentions of stalking and potential assault, mentions of violence
Y/n, was still new to Wrathâs circle. She yearned for the freedom to walk around and experience his circle without him scaring everyone off. After some convincing and Anir pulling Wrath to another meeting, Y/n was finally able to sneak off into the busy streets of Wrathâs circle.Â
Shocked was not the best way to describe her expression. She imagined that there would be shop after shop of weapons and demons sparring and fighting in the street, granted, there was, but there were also bakeries, book shops, a tailor, food stands and even a flower shop across the street. And the streets were bustling with cheerful demons moving back and forth between businesses and merchant stalls.Â
With a shout of glee that startled a male moving past her, y/n hurried to the flower shop with a plan to get some bouquets for her and Wrathâs suites. Crossing the road she noticed a male in dark clothing eyeing her as he leaned against a wall. She didnât pay any mind to it as it wasnât uncommon to wear dark colors in House Wrath. But his eyes held a hunger she did not want to dawn on too much. The plan was to not gain more attention from him as she reached the shop.
The floral shop was gorgeous with walls climbing with florals. The shop keeper gave her a smile as y/n moved between the rows of florals before landing on a flower with petals the golden shade of Wrathâs eyes. She couldnât help but grin at the thought of bringing these home to him. Something told her he was not used to receiving flowers but she wanted to make sure he knew how much she loved him as much as he loved her. Buying flowers for him was one of the many ways she could do that for him.Â
âMay I have a dozen of these flowers, please?â Y/n asked the storekeep.Â
He beamed at her grabbing a dozen and carefully wrapping the bouquet. âDate night?â he asked, making small talk as he rang her up.
âNot tonight,â Y/n answered, pulling some coins from her purse. âI wanted to give my love some flowers because he is always caring for me.â
The shop keeps smiles, âsounds like a keeper.â
âOh, he definitely is,â she agrees. âHe is like my own guardian angel.â
âGuardian angel, aye?â he raises a brow still smiling at her while giving her change.Â
âHmm, guardian demon,â she amends. A thought of Wrathâs wings remind her that he was once an angel and that he would probably scoff at the title of guardian angel.
âWell, I am sure this guardian demon will love the flowers. They are quite a beauty.âÂ
Y/n bid the male farewell and made a mental note to drop by often for more flowers in the future. Exiting the shop, she noticed the mysterious male was now leaning against the floral shop wall.Â
âBeautiful flowers for a beautiful female,â he commented, his dark hungry eyes raking over her body.Â
Y/n shuddered at the perusal. âThank you.â she said but turned away from the male to her next destination, the bakery. Her prince was a sweets fiend, even if he would never publicly admit it. And y/n really wanted to see if there were any cannolis there for him.
The male didnât comment anything as she walked away. She hoped that meant he would leave her alone now.Â
Once she reached the bakery she was overjoyed to find not only cannolis but a variety of flavors and fillings for the cannolis; pistachio, chocolate, candied oranges, peach, strawberry, even one with coconut and caramel. She could imagine the smile on Wrathâs face as he opened the box and then the calculation on how to eat the whole box without her knowing. And she has caught him before with a plate full of cannolis.Â
Two dozen should be good for her to at least get a bite of one. After paying for the two dozen she strode out to find the male waiting for her again.Â
âHaving a party?â he asked, his eyes somehow getting darker.Â
Y/n doesnât answer, knowing he is probably trying to determine if someone is expecting her.
âI love sweet things,â he continues as y/n steps into the street to get to the other sidewalk and put distance between them. Unfortunately this side of the street has cleared out and the busy market is down the block. âEspecially things with filling. Do you like filling, Sweet Thing?âÂ
Y/n tries to walk faster but she hears him keeping pace with her. Her neck starts to tingle, no Wrathâs mark begins to tingle. She lightly brushes it, praying he isnât too far from her.Â
âI have a special-â he is cut off abruptly and y/n turns to see her guardian glaring down the perpetrator.Â
âFinish the sentence,â Wrath challenges, his voice is calm but there is an underlying threat in it that both her and the other male pick up on given the stain growing on his dark trousers.Â
âYour highness,â the male bows his head, âWe are friends. We were just jesting.âÂ
The ground begins to rumble and ice crawls from Wrathâs feet.Â
âI have been watching you and there has not been any jesting.â Wrath points out.
Wait, watching? Y/n thinks as she watches her prince step toward the male with murderous intent.Â
âWhat were you going to do to my Y/n?â he demands. Anir and one his generals, Warwick, come out of the corner with murder in their expression.
âI-i didnât know she was yours,â the male whimpers.
âEven if she wasnât mine. I do not allow disgusting vermin, like yourself, to walk my streets preying on others.â Wrath snaps. Anir and Warwick grab the male and drag him into an alley where the male screams and begs.Â
Y/n steps toward Wrath. âWhatâs going to happen to him?â she asks with curious interest.Â
Wrath raises a brow, âwant to watch?âÂ
She shakes her head no even though she was curious what happened to predators like him. But she had another question for Wrath. âYou followed me?â
He gives her a âreally?â look. âYou left my house without protection. â he justifies.
âI donât need protection in your circle.â
âClearly you do,â he argues. His golden eyes flick to the box of cannolis and the paper wrapped golden flowers. His brows knit in confusion as he studies the two items with curiosity. âWho are those for?â
âMy guardian demon,â she replies with a smile. âThe least I can do for your hard work. I only ask that one cannoli be spared for me to try.â
He laughs at that and steps into her space with a small smile, âI think I can spare one.â
She gives him a mock skeptical look, âhmmm, I know it may be a difficult feat for you, Cannoli King.â She lifts up on her tiptoes and pecks the bottom of his cheek.Â
âCannoli King?â He repeats with a confused look.Â
âPrince Wrath, General of War, King of Hell, Cannoli King, and my guardian demon.â
So⊠unfortunately I have not felt as inspired to make fics for Eris and Lyra. Which sucks because I love them so much! At this time the Starlight and the Flame is being paused. I am thinking about going back through their story and revising but itâs at the end of my list at the moment.
Imagines And Such @afandomangel - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
