an unexpected delight

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Dream has been the Queen's assassin for five years. No one knows his name, but everyone knows he exists. He's the most feared person in the kingdom— other than the Queen. Some say he's an angel of death, others straight up call him the devil in flesh. He enjoys beings feared, he revels in it, but when another assassin has been sent to kill him, Dream finds enjoyment in toying with his predator.

or

Dream faces another assassin, one who hesitates.

This story is set in the past, so no modern tech.

TWs:
Swearing
Fighting scenes
Murder/death
Blood
Closest to smut I'll ever get tbh

Inspired by this picture by othxllo on Twitter:

Inspired by this picture by othxllo on Twitter:

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Dream is never bored.

He loves his job. He figures it must make him a psychopath, because who enjoys killing? But Dream revels in the way his victims cower before him. He's the bringer of death, the grim reaper. With a mask that constantly covers his face, only displaying an eerie smile, Dream fears nothing, no one.

Even the Queen, cruel as she is, doesn't scare him.

It makes him reckless and arrogant, a bit of an asshole at times. But it's not like anyone stops him, so he continues to be the reckless harbinger of death.

After the Queen ordered him to travel to an enemy kingdom to assassinate the prince, Dream is now on the roof of his target's castle.

It took him weeks of trekking through forests to finally reach his destination. He can feel his vanity bubble with pride and excitement as he waits for the guards to change posts.

When they do, Dream sneaks through the prince's window. The prince is sleeping, so Dream walks around the room carelessly. He studies himself in the mirror. An alabaster mask stares back, shadowed by the hood of his dark green cloak.

Dream grins wickedly, fiddling with a dagger as he strides up to the bed of his target. He pulls out a folded paper, given to him by the Queen, and compares the picture to the man in real life.

It's accurate; blond hair matching with a sharp jawline. The prince's skin is smooth, pale from being raised inside his whole life. He's definitely attractive, but not Dream's type. If Dream had to guess, he'd say the prince was his own age.

As he hovers in front of the prince, Dream senses another presence. He tilts his head to glance over his shoulder at the window. A soft breeze ruffles the curtains and Dream narrows his eyes.

"Drop your weapon."

The accent is foreign, commanding Dream to listen. Dream grins at the prospect of a challenge and turns around. He's met with a hooded figure. The man wears a brown cloak that covers his features, and he holds a long, finely crafted sword. A bow is strapped over one of his shoulders, next to it, a quiver of arrows.

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