NOTES: Hi, hello!. been daydreaming about a fanfic where the reader is Lyrica's mom (no abuse here, guys!) because Alteris is so so so fine! Enjoy reading.

IMPORTANTTTTT: You're implied to have, like, the same eyes as Lyrica; she didn't specify the hair color!

SUMMARY: Lyrica never even dreamt of the day she and her mother would escape the slums and the poverty that came with them. but even when she did. She never expected to end up as the princess of the empire! So why? With everything from the jewels to the dresses to the food, she'd never ever thought of tasting. Has her mother forgotten about her?!.

LYRICA WOKE UP ONE MORNING. And as usual, she wore her worn-out clothes, tattered and patched up with bad handiwork. courtesy of her mother.

Oh, wait. Lyrica never talked about her mother, did she? Well, luckily, she loved loved loved doing that, so as she wore her shoes, ready to head off to work, her mind began reeling.

"Oh, my mom? She's the most beautiful woman in the world. Even though we live in the slums, everyone that sees her agrees with me too. I got lucky and got the same eye color as her.

the same bright, vivid turquoise color. except hers are slightly darker than mine.

But it just makes my mother look more beautiful!. Last night Mother left, saying she had to do something. and she still hasn't returned.

She wouldn't abandon me, right? ... no, my mother would never do that

snapping out of her train of thought, Lyrica stood up, finished from tying her shoes, and skipped out

⠀ ☆⠀⠀ ⠀⁺‧͙

TO ANY OTHER PERSON. The scene looked like this:

The cruel tyrant dragon emperor who froze hearts was now going to freeze the heart of the woman sitting in front of him.

"It's a marriage proposal What's so difficult about that, your majesty?" Y/n repeated for the millionth time that night. head turning every few seconds to look out the wide window just so she could see the time.

Night had bled into day with her arguing with the dragon emperor slouched in front of her.

A week ago she'd come back from the dead. Or so she assumed. One minute the breathing had choked up; she'd wheezed and coughed the smell of burnt skin. Her skin reached her nose, suffocating her till it didn't. Hot charcoal was burning the soles of her feet, and every bit of her was catching fire.

Next she woke up to the face of her daughter staring at her with those big concerned eyes.

The immediate thought was that she was now in heaven. long dead, and her angelic daughter, whom she hadn't seen for so long at that point, was now with her.

till she realized she wasn't, that she'd somehow gone back in time, and promptly cried.

In y/n's last life she died poor. accused of being a seductress and helping aid her witch of a daughter, who was long deceased and burned at the stake. And now her time had come.

well in this life. she decided. She wasn't going to live in poverty. She wasn't going to waste her life working. She wasn't going to let Lyrica die the way she'd died.

No, not in this life. Lyrica would drown in comfort. have everything she desired.

In this life, Lyrica wouldn't just be y/n's princess. No, she'd be the empire's princess. and everyone would witness her daughter. She'd demand it if necessary!.

"You're very..." the emperor Alteris started. He was unfairly hot. tan skin and blue eyes that seemed to pierce her soul. Dark raven hair was pushed back from the number of times he'd run his hands through it.

Y/n had been staring; she wasn't oblivious. and the rumours most definitely didnt do him any justice

He was most definitely hotter than the papers had said. or the pathetic attempts at drawing him.

"Very, what's the word..." he trailed off. eyes scanning her entire being "Bold," he settled on. an amused look on his face. "Sneaking into a ball and proposing a marriage contract to me? Cheeky little thing, aren't you?" His words were laced with playfulness. But if anything, the room was filled with suffocating tension.

"What can I say...I'm a woman of...brilliant ideas?" She shrugged, eyes trained on his dark blue ones. Eye contact wasn't something many made with the emperor.

"Let's say I agree to this...contract." He waved his hand carelessly at the empty air.

"Then I'll be empress for 8 years," you continued. unsure of where this conversation was going.

One, he'd humor her. and then imprison her, and she'd never get to see Lyrica again.

The thought made her skin crawl. the second option was. He'd humor her and actually agree. And y/n most definitely preferred the second option.

"Look, all you're going to lose is 8 years with a really hot woman. I can be a good empress!" Y/n argued, slamming her fists on the table. His eyebrows arched, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"Yeah? And you have experience being an empress? Have I reminded you that I don't even know your name?" the eye contact was still there

his lazy amused ones with hers, which could start a fire.

"I can learn! Besides, would you really rather get married to a Barat?" The threat, if it could even be called one, was low. But anyone with a brain knew that the Barats and the Takars were like oil and water.

They didn't mix.

He sighed, throwing his head back, giving her a view of the column of his throat. Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed His Adam’s apple bobbed with the motion of his throat.

An indecent thought bubbled in her brain before she shot it down. Cheeks now turning red. "And my name's Y/n," she added.

To that he grinned, moving his head back to his original position.

"Alright then. I'll sign the marriage contract, Y/n."

☆⠀⠀ ⠀⁺‧͙

LYRICA WAS GROWING WORRIED. Her mother had always come home early. Usually with something she'd stolen from the bakery shed worked out.

Sometimes she'd tell her stories that happened at work, and Lyrica would chime in too. Other times her mother would try to convince her to stay home while they ate the 2-day-old stale bread.

"You can stay here at home, and I'll go work and go to school! play with the kids," and her words would enter through one ear and come out of the other.

but tonight. as Lyrica sat on the creaky old wood of their tiny home. knees bundled up to her chest. the cold seeping through her bones.

Panic was all that consumed her mind. What was she thinking? Her mother could barely start a fire!. Lyrica had to wake her up on most days, as she never woke up in time for work. Their silver coins had disappeared.

The thought from earlier crept back in.

My mom has abandoned me.

It started to become the only thing the child believed in as she waited in the house. So in search of her mother, the little girl stood up on her skinny legs, grabbed her worn-out coat, and headed out.

She was freezing even more outside than she was inside. Every breath she took came out in white puffs. Cheeks quickly turning red as she hastened her walk.

"MOTHER?" Lyrica screamed. Maybe she'd accidentally fallen asleep outside? or worse? Maybe she'd gotten injured. or mugged?. The overthinking was seriously starting to get to her.

Out of breath and tired and hungry, Lyrica sat in an empty alleyway.

Her mom wouldn't abandon her, right?. She always told her that she was the most precious thing she'd ever gotten in her life.

tears hung in her eyes lips pursed into a thin line. No, she wouldn't do that!. She knew her mother more than she knew herself. She looked at the ground.

A pair of fancy shoes became visible in her cloud. He had a silver badge; once she looked up, signaling that he was a knight.

"The empress wants to see you," he said with an almost bored tone.

LYRICA HAD A PROBLEM. Two days had passed since she found out the so-called empress was, in fact, her mother.

and that her mother had entered a marriage contract with the emperor of all people! and now beyond her wildest dreams. Lyrica was now a princess.

besides the fact that she went from dirt poor to now a princess who wore diamonds.

Lyrica barely saw her mother. and that made her sad beyond relief. Whenever she'd go to the maids, they'd give her vague excuses.

"Oh, the empress is tired," and "We're sorry she's not hosting an audience at the moment." and a million variations of the words "she's busy."

So with a lot of determination, Lyrica marched down the halls of the opulent and well-lit palace. Sun seeped through ceiling-to-floor windows. Gold edges shimmering everywhere.

Instead of knocking like she had all the other times, Lyrica barged in. a frown on her lips. eyes landing on her mother, who was seated at a nearby vanity.

All movements ceased as the princess took in the scene. The maid was standing behind her mother. brushing her hair. The empress' mouth twisted upwards into a smile at something the maid said.

Lyrica had never found her mother to be more beautiful than at that moment. She inched closer till y/n's eyes caught her from the corner.

Without a word, she extended her arms, beckoning her forward, and Lyrice obliged, allowing herself to be lifted up and placed on her mother's lap. arms circling around Lyrica to keep her still.

Y/n bumped her head with Lyrica's, as if they were sharing a secret. "Hi Lili," she greeted. "I heard you're taking an etiquette class?" She started.

Lyrica nodded, going on a rant about it for a while before she finally confessed to her mother what she had been feeling.

"Mother," Lyrica started, almost shy. "Why don't you want to... want to sit with me anymore?" She asked, cheeks now turning a rosy red, tears almost threatening to spill.

"Oh, Lili," the empress sighed, "I do want to sit with you. It's very silly you think I don't when you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," she exclaimed.

"its just im a little busy right now but as soon as im not ill sit with you for a,illion years okay?" she watched as the smile returned to her daughters face.

she herself also smiling at the scene.

You'll forever be my first choice, Lili. Don't think otherwise, okay?"

The empress didn't wait for a reply. Nor did she let go of the crying child. All she knew was that.

Lyrica was safe. and while that was all that mattered. she knew she'd go to farther lengths to know she was happy because, after all Lyrica Takars' happiness topped anyone else's in the empress' eyes

Broken Walls || rezef hill x fem!reader

a/n : found this in my notes and really liked how this turned out. a little change of pace, gotta put out sum fluff💀 but I hope yall like this !

synopsis : rezef hill finds himself falling in love with his sister's dear friend.

rezef never once expected himself to find a woman he'd fall in love with if he was completely honest. he'd expected to find himself at the altar marrying a stranger, just days after being told he would have a arranged marriage.

he never expected to find true love due to the fact every woman would come flaunting to him with their "oh so high" status, and preposterous personalities. or perverted nobles trying to seduce him for the fact he is the only crown prince of the empire. a handsome, ambitious crown prince where every lady believed they could tear down his walls. a stupid fairytale dream, others thought. a fairytale dream he thought would remain a mere dream.

about your post with the lante x grandkid!reader, IT WAS SO GOOD, and yes, i totally understand the family's shock about lante doting on his grandkid. this is the same man who established that familial love is unnecessary, was it not?

we got lante's perspective of his grandkid... but what about the other family members? will they like the grandkid as well? or will they be indifferent / dislike them?

(this is a bit wordy im sorry ☠️)

how would the agriche family react to grandchild!reader being doted on by lant agriche? / headcanons, death, typical things you'd expect from a fic that's about the agriche family, gn!reader.

THE agriche's reactions are mixed, honestly, and they thought that dion having a child was enough of a shock, so to have grandchild!reader being doted on by the lante agriche would mean that the usual "balance" (or what was left of it) in the family would no doubt be thrown out the window.

Imagine (Modern AU)

When you are sad and tired, but he's always there for you, he would give you a hug and let you cry if you feel like crying, he would cheer you, making or ordering your favorite food, cuddling you and doing stuff you both enjoy like watching movies, shows and making desserts, he would also ask you if you want to walk in a park and get some fresh air. But if you want to be alone, he will leave you for a moment and come back to you again, he will give you space but he wanted to make sure that you know he's always there for you and wanted to make you happy again :')

The next day whether you feel better or still sad you both go outside as he insists and he will bring you to the mall to go shopping and spoils you <3 and you both will eat at your favorite restaurant or try a new restaurant :)

- Vyn Richter, Marius Von Hagen, Artem Wing, Luke Pearce, Ayato Kamisato, Kaveh, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Shoto Todoroki, Rengoku, Obanai, Megumi (And other CHARACTERS you like)

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

(to be uploaded soon)

Note: Okay, quick, before we start!! Reader is like a year younger than Aria. This is a redo from one of my first posts a year ago, so yippieee!! Also, this was, like, supposed to come out last year, but, uhmmmm

OLD POST

SUMMARY: Tristan never broke promises, especially to the tiny pink head who had turned him soft. So of course when asked, he will do it. But what happens when another, say her sister, finds a place in his heart too?.

THE ROAD WAS CREAKY. Tristan made that discovery about twenty minutes ago when he flew from one pristine carriage seat to the other. His patience was wearing thin if his wife was there. He had no doubt the duchess would make a mockery of him.

But he didn't care, never did. Especially when the risks of going back to the Valentine manor involved coming home empty-handed to a wide-eyed siren. waiting for her sister.

about a week ago he had asked, 'if you could have anything—on earth or not—daughter, what would it be?' It was a simple question. The girl hadn't spoken yet, and the manor became aware of her muteness and, besides that, her inability to eat.

"A bargain," he thought, "if she ate, even if it was just a spoon." He'd give her the item she desired. What he didn't expect was for it to be a person. She had scribbled on a piece of paper. "I want my sister!"

And truth be told, she ate food that day. with the conclusion he turned his head to look out the window. the sky mirrored his mood. dark covered in thunderous clouds ready to cry. except he wasn't ready to wail or sob. maybe hit the duke yes. it didnt go beyond that,

The carriage stopped, the door opened, and he stepped out, the count's house coming into view. a shabby manor clearly built on what used to be wealth but no longer remained. The exterior carried dust around the once-white columns of the entrance and the rusty door. The wood had grown stale and old with time, breaking when he kicked it with his foot—one kick only—and he was inside.

It bustled with maids who either stared curiously or didn't at all, the air growing with discomfort as he navigated his way inside. pink hair, looks exactly like the kid. He checked the boxes mentally, looking for any small child roaming around. but he didn't find anything, and with that, he made his way to the count's office.

a dull room, barely worth his attention, eyes wandering for any misplaced floor planks or unopened drawers. He didn't hear Count Cortez's nervous greeting. "Ah, Grand Duke—what...what brings you here? Did you kill the siren?" Finally Tristan turned to him.

"Where is she?" No introduction—to him, a man like Count Cotez barely deserved to breathe in the same room as him. He let out a shaky, nervous laugh. "Hah...the siren is in your hands—I don't have any other ki—" Tristan exhaled a breath. "Fine, I knew you weren't there in the brain, considering you don't even deserve the daughter you have—no," he cut himself off, sizing him up, "your other daughter. Where is she? Don't make me repeat myself; you, out of everyone, know what happens when you mess with a valentine."

"I don't know!" He replied, his voice shrill, "B-but if I had to guess, she's probably dead in the kitchen. I haven't heard her screaming for days. She probably died like her good-for-nothing bitch mother," he screamed. That earned him a punch, multiple punches.

The Duke of Valentine exited the room and entered the kitchen, where all the talk that was happening ceased. One of the maids pointed to a door bolted with multiple silver locks *better than the door handle of the manor;* this one was shiny enough that he could faintly see his reflection. Multiple locks decorating it. Ten, to be exact, each one more complicated than the other.

Something inside of Tristan. The entirety of the mansion was in *ruins;* none of it was renewed or polished except this door. Looking as if it were top of the art; nothing was rusted. It was clear it was new.

He grabbed a dagger stored in his belt. It was a precise enough thing to get the job done, and after a while he opened it.

The room, like the rest of the house, looked like a display of what the count would assume a happy girl would have. Untouched toys trapped behind glass boxes, dusted shelves, and molded food. The whole nine yards.

Tristan Valentine was not a good person; he wasn’t a hypocrite, and he knew he wasn’t. But still. Letting a child live in a condition like this was beyond cruel. Sparing it a glance made something inside of him ache.

The black-haired man entered deeper into the threshold, looking around for a sign of life. Or the tiny pink-haired girl. His eyes trailed from the shelves to the carpet dotted with strawberries, the mattress on the floor showing the signs that at some point the count had given up on decorating. His boots made a rough sound against the floor as he moved towards the closet.

Rusted and splintered from all around, once upon a time it might’ve been made with care and stored clothes upon clothes, from silks to ribbons. But as he opened it.

It didn’t store clothes; it stored a half-dead-looking girl. Pink hair exactly the same as the girl back at the Valentine mansion.

The Duke crouched in infront of the closet, gauging to see if she was even alive, like the thing he had the misfortune of laying eyes on in this mansion today. The sight sat wrong with him.

Just light the place on fire. He thought solemnly. Tristan couldn’t for many reasons. So with a million thoughts as to how to kill the count without it being traced back to him, he nudged the girl. Poked her in the ribs. Watched her flinch, eyes opening with fear he’d only seen on those that knowingly crossed him.

He waited till the girls' eyes landed on him. Was she five or eight? He wasn’t sure. But he did clear his throat to make her stare at him. Tristan wasn’t good with kids. He wasn’t good with Lloyd, that was for sure, but Lloyd was a boy; there was a difference between the two genders, he had been told. People like the young miss require more care! Treat one as you would a kitten or a baby rabbit!!

The voice of his butler rang in his ear; it was growing awkward he hadn’t said a word, and the child hadn’t said a word either. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he reaffirmed. Whether to himself or to her, he wasn’t sure. “Your sister is waiting for you,” he added, hands twitching at his side as if he was going to pick her up but decided against it.

Tristan watched as the pink-haired girl nodded, shifting and crawling out of the closet; he stood to his full height. Before crouching down and deciding to pick her up.

Was she mute too? He thought she hadn’t spoken a word, and her sister was unable to speak. Maybe it ran in the family…? Tristan didn't know, and he couldn't exactly find it in him to care.

By the time his thoughts cleared, he had walked outside of the shabby mansion. With unnatural carefulness, the Duke of Valentine put the girl inside of the carriage. before sliding in himself. "Do you...remember your sister?" He decided, unable to think of another answer. He watched as the child in front of him moved her head in a nodding motion.

"Yes? Well then. She asked me to come get you," he informed her. Tristan shifted his movement, dark eyes still staring at her.

"You haven't told me your name, and I doubt you will."

"But, your sister misses you, and she's precisely the reason I'm here, child. She loves you, and because I tolerate her, I'm letting you stay with us. You'll have your own room. No one would hit you. You'd get to eat anything you desired. If you cannot speak, it's fine; we'll teach you to write. You're safe here," he reassured. Tristan had never reassured anyone in his life!.

She didn't speak, sure. Maybe she didn't know how? He tilted his pale, knuckled head, resting it against his cheek as he continued examining her. But the thought immediately disappeared as he saw her open her mouth. A tiny voice came out, eyes glued to the floor. "M-my name is Y/n," she said quietly.

And he smiled. It wasn't noticeable; it was tiny, just the tilt of the corner of his lips going upwards.

The road ahead to the manor was long. possibly a day. maybe even more. But Tristan had that feeling. one he was never wrong about. that this tiny girl would end up being just as important to him as any other person in his family.

What's it like waking up with him in the morning? — romantic , gn!reader / fluff . / no tws .

╰►❝ SORRY I KIDNAPPED YOU, DO YOU STILL WANNA FUCK? ❞

summary: dion gets... interested.. in his fathers friend.

a/n: i fantasized ab dion with a dilf/milf! reader, have fun reading this shit

the actual work is under here!