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devieuls · 10 months

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ˋ Déjà-vu .

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Reader ( ONE SHOT )

Synopsis : The Na'vi say that every person is reborn in multiple lives and in each of them, is in a constant search: that of the soul mate. A bond so deep and mysterious that it overcomes the barriers of time and space, uniting two beings destined to meet in each universe. Through the ages and dimensions, kindred souls who seek each other, recognize each other, pushing each other like irresistible magnets. Because the soul mate is the perfect reflection of ourselves, a connection that goes beyond appearances and circumstances. And so, in every life and universe, destiny is intertwined to unite those souls who are destined to be inseparable through the Great Mother.

Warning : None. FLUFF

Recommended Songs : Habits - Genevieve Stokes; Blue - Dreamy, YUP!; Hotline Bling - Billie Eilish; Radio - Lana del Rey; Cinnamon Girl - Lana del Rey

Lenght : 3.6k

NA'VI WORDS : TANHI: Star / Bioluminescent freckles

NETEYAM: 19 y.o / Y/N: 18 y.o

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

Hidden among the winding branches of the centuries-old trees, stood the forest of the Omatikaya clan. Its beating heart was a mysterious universe blessed by the Great Mother, a refuge where wild nature manifested itself in all its majesty. The suns, filtering through the thick foliage of the trees, painted golden scales on the moss carpets that stretched between the giant trunks. The air, dense with humidity, smelled of fresh earth and life. Each breath filled your lungs with earthy aromas and floral fragrances, mingling with the sweet singing of birds and Ikran competing for air dominance. Their trills echoed through the bush, dancing with the leaves swinging in the wind like a natural chorus, singing a timeless symphony. The soil, caressed by roots woven like affectionate fingers, housed a myriad of creatures. Invisible to the eyes, the insects buzzed in a concert of whispers, accompanied by the delicate rustle of the leaves that grazed each other. The dewdrops hung from the webs like shining pearls, while the nocturnal creatures found rest in the shade, waiting for their time.

In the midst of this symphony of nature, you were sitting on a rock near the edge of a pond, immersed in the quiet and harmony of the forest. Your gaze reflected the deep connection with the flora that surrounded you, an inner harmony that was reflected in your serene smile as you watched some fish shuffle between your feet in the water. Dressed in clothes with shades of the earth, you seemed a fragment of this landscape, a soul enchanted by the power and beauty of the forest, albeit with details that brought back to the marine flora to which you belonged. You started humming one of the ancient songs of the Tayrangi clan as you stretched your fingers towards the water in front of you, brushing at the fish that lived there quietly, remaining enchanted by that piece of paradise found. You had spent all morning wandering in the forest, and now you were sitting there enjoying the early afternoon making you feel free and weightless, emptying your mind of thoughts and doubts, devoting yourself to solitude. Not far from that almost enchanted place, a second Na'vi was following a small sprawling path to start the hunt, bow in his hand and feline eyes as he sought the perfect spot to start hunting. To distract Neteyam from his main objective was a foreign melody from the forest, which he had never heard before but which seemed so familiar to him. Neteyam’s attentive ears awoke to hear the song, allowing him to pinpoint the direction from which the sound came. < A voice in the forest? > He wondered as intrigued he ventured in the direction of almost hypnotic singing. Curiosity got the better of him as his head peeped out of a tree, watching a young na'vi beauty sitting from behind while humming.

Neteyam could only see the back of the Na'vi, contemplating every inch of your body that seemed to him already so lived, already admired, already touched: your shoulders narrow and thin, slender as your arms, the thread of the top on your back that covered your breasts in front, the small waistline that had around some threads with seashells and sea beads as pendants, and the soft sides leaning on the rock, slightly covered by your loincloth draped at the sides. Your long black hair slightly covered your shoulders with some braids and loose curls, embellished with some shells and sea pearls that went to match the jewel around the waist. His mind was clouded by both your body and your voice, making him feel almost drunk with you, without a real reason, but enjoying your mysterious presence and the melody you created. Neteyam couldn’t decide whether to stay hidden and admire you in silence or approach you, remaining a few minutes to think about what to do, until he made the decision.

Crack < Shit. > Neteyam thought

You turned when you felt a branch break behind you, revealing at your sight a tall male unknown Na'vi who was approaching, and then remained embarrassed by the branch. The Na'vi was particularly attractive and there was something about him that seemed strangely familiar, as if it wasn’t the first time you saw him. Your heart began to accelerate inexplicably and you blushed in embarrassment as you stood, feeling the fresh grass tickling your skin. You opened your mouth, as if to look for meaningful words to start the conversation with, but you felt like you were enchanted by that boy, admiring every single detail in him, losing in your throat all the sentences you were collecting. His eyes, big and honey-colored, sweet but sure, as bright as even Pandora’s suns; around his neck he had a reddish choker beaded, where a strange necklace that you had never seen before landed and you were sure it didn’t belong to Pandora; the toned chest where a cummerbund Omatikaya was tied underneath, revealing that he was a warrior, which you also noticed from the leather armguard and leg guards, as well as the typical Omatikaya knife and armband; your eyes fell for a second on his blue loincloth, observing the songcord that wrapped on one side. His strong natural scent was already recorded in your memory, not understanding how it was possible, and it made you feel strangely good. Your gaze rose again on his face, noticing that like you, he wore feathers on his ear, with colors typical of his clan. Your attention finally fell on the bow in his hand and you thought that he was hunting, and because of yours you had distracted him or scared away the animal he was watching.

"I… well, I thought I was alone," you put your hands forward as an apology, thinking that you had ruined his hunting trip, and then notice that young Na'vi was approaching you in silence, not disturbed by your words of apology before giving you a sweet reassuring smile. "No, don’t stop, please. You sing beautifully," he said. His eyes explored your person, enchanted by your figure: big golden feline eyes, soft lips, two strands of braids fell in front of your face; around your neck you wore some necklaces typical of the Tayrangi clan, the top you were wearing was made of long red and white feathers, just like the ones behind your right ear. "Neteyam of the Omatikaya clan… you are?" < beautiful > he wanted to add, but he just implied that he wanted to know your name. He took his fingers to his forehead and then pointed out to you, as a sign of greeting, a gesture that you then reciprocated. <"Neteyam? I’ve heard this name before…"> you whispered as the boy approached you, and then dug up his name in your memories. "Neteyam the firstborn of the Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem, isn't it?" you asked as you approached him too, not understanding why you felt so safe in his presence, or why your stomach was so upset. "O-oh, forgive me, I didn’t introduce myself. Y/n te Skxumew Ikeyni'ite" you concluded, blushing slightly for your carelessness. "Ikeyni, mh? you… you are the daughter of Ikeyni, the Olo'eykte of the Tayrangi clan?" He asked nicely as he looked at you a little more, breathing in your perfume, getting a little drunk on you again. "Yes, I’m the eldest son of the Sullys. but I know Ikeyni’s daughter, I didn’t remember her so... beautiful" <Smooth, Neteyam, too smooth.> "Oh, I’m Ikeyni’s second daughter, you don’t know me for this. You know my mother from the war council, right? She only bring my big sister Ney'nari, as she will be the next Olo'eykte of the Tayrangi clan. You’ve seen her, you know… tall, beautiful, long braids and kind, it’s hard not to remember. She has a beautiful voice and a good presence, she is a friend of everyone…" you answered him, smiling shyly, and then looking at him and contemplating him for a while longer. "My mother. She… she talked a lot about you to our clan, even my sister did, so I know who your parents are. And that’s why I know who you are, your name lives up to your father’s, you’re admired in all the clans, I won’t be the first to tell you all this… Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m talking way too much" you lowered your eyes slightly swallowing as you laughed slightly embarrassed, not knowing why you suddenly felt so awkward in front of him as your heart pounded in your chest. You were amazed by him, you admired him because of the stories surrounding his name and his greatness despite only nineteen years of life. "It’s a pleasure to meet you… Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan" you tried not to stutter, to the veiled compliment of the boy but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you, just like your tail.

Neteyam put two fingers under your chin, lifting your face, making you meet your eyes again. The heart beating hard enough to risk a heart attack. "The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Just call me Neteyam, Neteyam is… fine." said, giving you a sweet smile. "And don’t worry about talking too much, as I said I like your voice, it's soft and beautiful. In addition I’m used to my little sister, I’m a great listener… especially for the right voices" His eyes slipped on your lips almost instinctively, feeling in your mouth a strange sweetish taste, as if he had already tasted your lips. "Anyway, what’s a Tayrangi doing in the Omatikaya forests? I don’t remember being warned, especially if the Tayrangi in question belongs to the Olo'eykte family" he asked gently, without taking his hand off your chin, enjoying your soft, warm skin. "To be honest? I ran away from the clan in the middle of the night because I wanted to visit the Omatikaya forest" you took a short break, slightly backing up, biting your lip as you confessed. "You know, my clan has beautiful coasts, beautiful beaches, a lovely sea and small woods but… we don’t have such beautiful forests, such tall trees and so much lovely greenery. My mother doesn’t want me to leave the clan alone because of the sky people, so if I asked for permission she would have denied me… so, you know, I ran. I know it is not something honorable as the daughter of an Olo'eykte, but I am very responsible, I swear…" You smiled slightly, without looking at him. "I’m just curious, and a bit rebellious, yes." You hoped your words had not horrified Neteyam, knowing him by his reputation as a strong warrior with solid principles. Your heart began to beat fast as he laughed at your confession as he passed a hand through the braids.

< He laughed… is good thing, no? > you thought. The excitement in your voice was as evident as the sincere wonder in your eyes, and this warmed the heart of Neteyam, fascinated by your carefree and ruthless sincerity, but especially by that rebellious streak that characterized you. "Are you telling me that you fled in the middle of the night, unbeknownst to your mother who is also Olo'eykte, because you wanted to see the forest and the trees of my clan?" asked him with amazement, looking at you. You nodded enthusiastically as you blushed slightly. < Wonderful. > he thought, even more enchanted by you.

"You are… I have no words to describe you, but there is nothing wrong with wanting to explore the beauty of a place, curiosity makes us alive, but you should not run away in the middle of the night, it could be dangerous" You smiled at his statement, heartened that he did not have the same thought as the elders of your clan. " Aren’t you afraid of getting into trouble?" "Hmm? Oh no, I’m used to getting into trouble. This is a 'trouble' bigger than the others, but certainly smaller than the future ones" you admitted while smiling, shrugging. "Let’s just say I’m lucky I’m not the oldest. Too many expectations, too many burdens, commitments and duties, the perfect daughter who will one day become Olo'eykte. Fortunately Ney'nari is the eldest daughter, and this burden is all hers, and she is fine with it. I am a free spirit, that is. The more you try to slow me down, the faster I run, you know. Life is one, so why follow the rules if I’m not hurting anyone, right?" Neteyam looked at you mesmerized, knowing that you had all that rebellious character that he lacked, and he felt attracted to you like never before. He felt he already knew what your character or thoughts were, and he found you so wildly perfect "I’m sure my mother will yell at me and I’ll have trouble with her, but… look how beautiful this forest is. These trees are beautiful, and the sounds? Ahh lovely! I was just curious, and now I’m fascinated, your clan’s forest is… mesmerizing. It’s the risk to take for a wonderful… experience. Wonderful, isn’t it?" Your voice became sweeter and more excited as you looked around with enchantment, breathing the cool breeze.

Neteyam’s eyes did not come away from you even for a second, enchanted by your being. "Yes, wonderful…" He said breathless, not meaning the forest at that moment. You looked at him and smiled once more as his heart beat and recovered, rushing suddenly, noticing your freckles shining under the lights of the forest. "Yes. The forest is wonderful. Even though I grew up there, I can’t help but agree with you, ma Tanhì…?" Neteyam used that nickname almost naturally "Tanhì?" you asked, approaching him. You weren’t annoyed, you recognized that nickname, you knew it was something that belonged to you, something you were used to, but you weren’t sure about that.

"I’m sorry, it just… I don’t know, it just came naturally to me" Neteyam said embarrassingly, squinting as if to recover himself. The heart beats faster to both, butterflies in the stomach fly wildly and every gesture, every word exchanged, seems full of meaning. "Don’t you feel like you’re…" you interrupted him. "Experiencing something you’ve already experienced?" you completed his sentence, and even this gesture reminded you of phantom memories, as if you were used to doing it. "Yes…" he whispered. "I just feel so.." fu Neteyam to interrupt you now. "at peace with you around." You smiled nodding "Yeah..". You started laughing together because of that innocent harmony of completed sentences and then looking at each other, falling into each other’s eyes. A look that sparked a spark of familiarity in your intimate. Even if you two can’t explain why, you feel a kind of deep connection that seems to go back a long time. Eyes that you had already loved once, souls that were already united in the past, as if you already knew, every single detail. Neteyam could see you all the way, as if your eyes were not a mirror of your soul, but a door he already had the keys to.

"I don’t know why but your eyes are so familiar, and also your voice… and your scent" You started, and then took a deep breath. "Have you been in my clan before, maybe?" Your eyes did not come off even for a second from his, and he did the same. "No, never… that I remember, never. But I don’t know why I feel I’ve been once, maybe for the Day of Atonement we met in some clan… I have vague memories of a forest near a precipice" he said, laughing and then looking for the warmth of your hand. "and it’s as if I’ve already felt your touch on my skin" he concluded "No, no way, on that day I am always in my clan. But I too remember a forest and a precipice… Near the village of my clan there is a similar precipice, overlooking the beach" Your eyes fell on your hand laid on that of Neteyam. "I feel the same." you answered with a thread of voice.

"I’m so sure I’ve seen you before, but I don’t know where…" You started talking, and then you laughed sarcastically, carrying some braids behind your ear. "Maybe in a past life we were connected? Do you think?" Her voice was sweet, and a smile painted on her lips as she watched you hypnotized. "No, I don’t think… I never would have had a partner in my previous life, just like I didn’t want in this life. Remember? free spirit, no bond or…" he interrupted you "Duty? isn’t it? You’re the kind of girl who doesn’t want to be connected because she’s free and rebellious and knows that no one can love or accept this rebellious side of you, and you don’t want to be below anyone because you have a strong temper. It’s you, right?" Neteyam took the words out of your mouth. You swallow with a nod, and then you feel some twinges in your head, like memories that were flocking and unlocking one behind the other with speed never seen. "How do you…" you whispered in disbelief. "I don’t know, I just know" he said. "You and I, we met, if not in this, in another life. I feel it, my heart feels it, my body and my mind. Isn’t it the same for you?" His voice was intrinsic of sweetness, hope and almost dreamet memories. You nodded watching him mesmerized. "Maybe… In another life, it can be. It is said that Eywa always brings his children together, maybe we were friends or family.. or "he looked at you, smiling when you paused. "Lovers?" he completed the sentence for you. You blushed and laughed. The heart that was pushing against your chest, as if to get to Neteyam’s, your stomach shaking, and the breath that was missing, were all feelings you had already experienced in some part of your mind. Your hand still stands on Neteyam’s, finding it comforting, experiencing a great sense of déjà vu experienced by both. "Yes… lovers"

You walked away from him, taking long deep breaths, not fully realizing what you had said. Neteyam’s eyes looked at your back as you turned your back, approached you carefully and then laid a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it’s not something bad. Maybe we were just two people on the same wavelength, you know, not necessarily lovers. You are a free spirit after all, I doubt that in another life I did not appreciate this character of yours, at least not less than I am appreciating it now" His voice was warm and gentle, almost comfortable as he tried to reassure you. "It’s not that, it’s just… weird. We just met and it seems like we’ve known each other since time immemorial, I’m not used to these things" You admitted, while your stomach was knotted and it was making you little twinges. "Maybe I should… go… I don’t want to take any more time, you were hunting, right?" "Actually I’m not wasting my time, and hunting can wait. You wanted to get to know the Omatikaya forest, didn’t you? I was born and raised in these forests, I could take you to all the places you can’t imagine." He reached out to you, hopeful. You looked at him uncertain. "You’d get in trouble. I escaped from my clan by disobeying my Olo'eykte, besides I’m in the forest of your clan without warning, how many rules am I breaking? And you would be my accomplice." You admitted worried about him, knowing his spotless reputation. "You said yourself that life is one and that the rules should not be followed, we do nothing wrong" He replied looking into your eyes hopeful. "You’re gonna get in trouble, and I’m twice as bad for ruining your reputation, plus it’s gonna be late and your parents are gonna be mad, you’re not gonna be able to hunt, and-" he laughed and grabbed your hand. "Just say yes, and I will work hard to offer you only the best. I will bring the stars down to you if you ask me" This sentence he said sounded so familiar in your head, as if he had already once told you. "Ma Tanhì, just yes." Your hearts were beating at the same pace, on the same wavelength, as you swallowed the knot in your throat that you created when you were looking for excuses not to get him into trouble. " Yes…" you whispered, and then you heard Neteyam’s smile.

The sense of déjà vu grew stronger in the hours you spent together. Neteyam took you to observe the forest with his Ikran, holding on tight to him, as your Ikran was still too tired from the night journey. He showed you the Hallelujah Mountains where there were some free Ikran in the sky and others who rested in their house; he also took you where their Home Tree had previously been. He made you explore the forest as much as possible, enjoying your amazed eyes and excited voice at every unknown thing he showed you, feeling truly free, even in his presence. There was something inside of you that told you it was okay to trust him, that you could be yourself, let yourself go without fear because he had already understood you, he was already seeing you. When the day ended you felt full of joy for having seen all those wonderful places, while Neteyam fell once again first, loving you, reflecting your happiness over something so small that he almost took it for granted

From that day you ran away from home more and more often, taking him to do the same to come to your clan. Every emotion, every laugh, outing, dating, complaint, quarrel, word or kiss that followed in the following months all seemed already experienced, as if you two had already belonged to you once and now found yourself to love you again under the blessing of Eywa.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes:

Yes, if you were wondering this is a parallel "déjà-vu" of the story "The Way of Love - Neteyam x Tayrangi Reader". I wanted to write about how Neteyam and Y/n could meet if she remained the rebellious and carefree second daughter, with Ney'nari alive and mated with Tul'pey, Ikeyni more accommodating etc… I love to think that soul mates meet in infinite ways in all universes, and that that sense of "already lived" is caused by all the lives lived together in other places.

I could have written a lot better, but in my mind Neteyam and y/n in one of these universes met and fell in love like this.Y/n rebellious and free, going against everything and everyone, disobeying, and Neteyam the one who keeps her down, who is caring and accompanies her in all her adventures… Influencing each other positively and negatively, falling in love again, again and again with the same eyes and the same things. Complementing each other.

Yes, I like to weave all my stories, always. I hope you enjoyed this niche of sweetness, ma Syulang 🙨 <3

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　

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shibaraki · 2 years

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MASTERLIST | PART I | PART II | PART III

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS: He was bestowed the name Katsuki. Where your people feared and cursed him, spoke of him as if he were all but a beast, Varene revered him as the symbol of victory. Tales of a gold crowned son who entered the world with the roar of a dragon. The gaping chasm between the two of you predated your marriage. Everything had been determined the moment you were born a woman.

TAGS: AFAB FEM reader (a half sib todoroki; she/her pronouns used; ‘princess’ ‘your grace’ ‘your majesty’), dragon king bakugo, sheltered reader, worldbuilding, miscommunication, oc dragons and draconic language, canon typical abuse (todoroki family), magic and bloodline abilities, marriages of convenience, kidnapping (reader kept in a small space), descriptions of blood and injury, pirate aizawa shouta (+ crew), bounty hunter shinsou hitoshi

WC: 15k

You are dipped in twilight. Swaddled in the late night chill and a silk robe, the soft hair on your arms rears. The candlelight had long been extinguished after you had retired to bed, but sleep escaped you. It was too quiet, too cold in a bed so large and so empty.

Months have passed since you were wedded to the renowned dragon king, Bakugo Katsuki, and there is yet for any sense of belonging to take root between the two of you. Or so it feels.

The sky is clear, a vast black canvas dotted with distant stars. You are alone again and Varene still does not feel like home.

You supposed that this solitude was far better than being back in Yiryn. Though you missed your mother and siblings desperately, it was difficult not to favour a country that did not scorn you. Born to King Enji’s paramour in a final, desperate effort for a suitable heir, your mother had been sought out due to Rei’s presumed inability to carry any more Todoroki children. One too frail, one a woman, one without fire. Stress and fear proved unfavourable conditions for carrying a babe. It’s that hostility which forced her first child, your eldest brother Touya, to arrive prematurely.

And just as Rei had been wedded to him for her abilities with ice, your mother had been chosen due to the blood that ran thick in her veins. Drachian's blood. Had luck been on your side you’d have been born with a natural affinity for communing with dragons, Draconic language engraved into your marrow, and your sire’s rather useful resistance to high heat. Put together, they were appealing traits to the Todoroki clan, who passed on the ability to wield fire through generations, and were seeking a connection to the ancient beasts after having lost their own a century ago.

Following your conception, it had not been known that the Queen, Rei, too was pregnant. Five months into your mothers gestation, the court became aware of another son growing handsomely beneath Rei’s many layers of skirt and trim. The Queen never begrudged your existence, only pleased to know her own youngest wouldn’t be alone. You were told the two women would often stand side by side, if only to press the swell of their bellies together, to keep you both close. You were raised alongside Shouto, and often nested together in the same crib during infancy. Given the choice, you might’ve remained inseparable.

While the same could not be said for your father, the siblings never treated you unequally. Touya had been particularly fond of you and frequently sought your company, a stark contrast to the obvious distaste for his youngest brother. You still think of him often. It became clear that Touya found comfort in the parts of you that reflected him. Unwanted. Unskilled. Born into failure. Draconic never shaped on your tongue, no matter how hard you tried. Another spurned child to bond with.

Like mother like daughter, you were fated to be another last resort. Gruelling tests and training throughout childhood proved you were unable to strengthen the Todoroki line, and so King Enji declared your only use to Yiryn was as a means of rebuilding an old, long weathered bridge with Varene.

The two countries once shared a rich history and culture, strained by war, famine and gold. The divide had worsened with every generation that passed. Even in the true Kingdom of Dragons, natural born Draconic speakers were far and few. Which is why Enji’s offer to them was most generous — suspiciously so. Marriage to a Todoroki princess, a Drachian carrier, that may produce Draconic speaking heirs.

The agreements passed without fanfare, and your illegitimacy proved to be of no consequence, as bastards are not recognised in Varene. All children were equally deserving. You found the sentiment incredibly loving. While it worked in his favour, your father had still privately branded them savages.

Being betrothed to the Dragon King had not been of your choosing, but you endeavoured to make the best of it. A chance to truly be connected to your ancestors, to know your culture outside of altered textbooks and poorly kept archives. In many ways you thought you’d been freed from your fathers clutches.

The celebrations went ahead in the tender green of spring, and at the beginning you had no complaints. You found your husband undoubtedly handsome — otherworldly, even. A broad chest painted in striking patterns of black, highlighting the thick scars he had won during the war. His shoulders were thick, like his arms, and covered by a grand red cape lined in fur that settled in the earth beneath his feet. His expression had been piercing, and you recall just how insecure you felt under his scrutiny. Eyes alight. The longer you looked the more you saw the flames dancing in his irises.

He was bestowed the name Katsuki. Where your peoples feared and cursed him, spoke of him as if he were all but a beast, Varene revered him as the symbol of victory. Tales of a gold crowned son who entered the world with the roar of a dragon. The gaping chasm between the two of you predated your marriage. Everything had been determined the moment you were born a woman.

You were taught to expect aggression from him the night of your wedding, and to practice submission from the moment you came of age. Sex was duty. Yet on that night he had touched you in ways you could not have imagined. Even now, in his absence, you can feel the hot impression of those fingers at your waist. Amidst the bliss you’d forgotten that his hands could conjure fire, too.

Katsuki had shaped your flesh around him, burrowed into you as if he was made to find home there. Like he belonged there. Lay aside — the kissing is what bewitched you. The careful manner in which he cradled your face, plucking his titles from your mouth. It felt like taking claim.

“My name,” he’d said. “Don’t fuckin’ call me ‘your highness’ or ‘my king’ in our marriage bed”.

When coiled so tightly beneath him, it was as if his weight was the only thing holding your seams together. You felt your body fall apart under his touch three times that night; three times more than you’d expected.

For all that, the next morning his side of the bed had been cold. And it remained cold every morning that followed.

Katsuki confused you like no other. He deigned to show you any other part of his life, and so you never asked. Presumably, You were not invited to sit in on his councils, you were not given permission to see his dragons, you were not to be without consort. The weeks he is absent — seemingly for no reason other than to avoid you — are spent in the gardens, or the stables, or ambling the winding corridors of a castle you might never truly be familiar with. You were a wife of convenience to be kept in the far wing of the castle, safe and ignorant.

Yet you remained well treated and feted. There are drapes of satin and silk lining your wardrobes, sheer fabrics and trains spilling out into the room. Jewels, chains and hairpins decorate the large vanity tucked against the corner of the room, ready for your ladies in waiting to pluck up each morning. Flowers are often left, as the season is ripe for bloom, and they imbue your quarters with the scent of summer's end.

Whenever your paths crossed he would address you warmly, in his own way, and he handled you gently if ever he joined you in bed. Katsuki likes to kiss you. Caught in the tender, rose petal press. To your lips, the curve of your shoulder, your breasts, your sex. Like clockwork, as the day breaks, it's as if he becomes indifferent to you. The linens on his side of the bed will be smooth, corners perfectly tucked, and so you’ll temper the hurt with humourless jokes that perhaps your husband really was like a beast from a storybook; commonly told to you as a child, the man who answered the moons call and transformed into a wolf. He was known across the realms as a dragon — perhaps the moon spoke riddles to him, too.

Love. Did you even know what it looked like? Could this unending, sombre ache have been it all along?

His political ambassador and closest confidant, Midoriya Izuku, has attempted to assuage you only once. It must’ve shown on your face. “Kacchan is just difficult,” the smile he gave you had been sincere, but a little sad. “He might not’ve been born with a Draconic tongue, but sometimes it can feel like his words and actions are speaking different languages”.

You paid heed, but in the weeks that passed your efforts were fruitless. Every day saw new people of different ilk pass through the grounds. The sights and sounds toiled away at your envy until it spread through your chest like flame to dry crop. You could understand the shackles placed upon you if you were not in a country that prided itself on freedom.

Sinking further over the balcony ledge, your body deflates with a sigh. Chatty cicadas and distant eldritch rumblings echo across the castle grounds, drawing your attention to the colossal structure built at the precipice of the castle grounds. Despite only ever seeing them from afar, the dragon's calls are but another bird’s song to you now. It draws an enigmatic, bone-deep instinct to the surface of your being that you cannot place.

Another screech. To anyone elses ear it would not sound any different, but you feel it prickling at the back of your neck. Words you’ve never heard and yet you understand. A zip along the length of your spine as you straighten, breath held in an effort to listen more closely. The moment of concentration is broken by the door to your quarters opening, wooden panels groaning in complaint. Startled, you turn on your heel.

Beneath the doorway, Katsuki stands bathed in a muted glow. The torches lining the corridors flicker dimly by the hour, their wicks burnt down to wax and casting a subtle, blonde halo around his head. You stare back at him, a solid silhouette, the lines and curves of your body visible beneath your gown as the moon shines through its fabric.

The tension breaks when he asks, “Why’re you still up?”

You refuse the urge to pull your robe close to your chest, knowing there was not much left to the imagination beneath the sheer cloth. Fingers wrung, your wedding ring is cool between your knuckles. “Couldn’t sleep. My thoughts are a little too loud tonight”.

He approaches you slowly, taking the time to observe you. With each step forward there is a resounding thud, wearing only his dark, loose fitted trousers and heavy leather boots. On his journey he begins to remove the various bracelets and rings from his person, reaching to unclasp the reformed dragon tooth from his earlobe and discarding them all atop your vanity.

The heat emanating from his body is stark amidst the cold night. You don’t move when he enters your space, a rough hand cupping your cheek. His tongue clicks in displeasure as the pad of his thumb strokes across your cheek, “Fuck. You’ll catch your death if you stay out here. Get in bed”.

“I can hardly feel it,” your muttering goes unheard and he unceremoniously pulls you into the room, crowding you against his front as both arms reach behind to lock the doors. Smoke fills your throat, a sweet tang of explosive magic sticking to the roof of your mouth. He remains still for a long moment, chin dipping to rest atop your crown.

“I’ll get in bed if you join me”.

You watch the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest as he huffs. “Just rest. I’m going to bathe first, s’gonna take a while”.

The smell lingers on your robe even after he steps away. Too strong to be from something innocent. Only now do you realise what you are tasting is mixed with blood. Glancing to his forearms, you see the skin there is darker. Dry streaks of brown, like he had tried to wipe most of it off before coming here.

“Are you okay? Did something happen—?!”

Katsuki turns away from you, rubbing at his inner wrist. Flecks of blood break off and litter the floor. He hums, “S’fine. Endraen’s nestlings hatched tonight and she wouldn’t let anyone near her”.

You can hear the unfettered pride in his voice. Like a true brother. To your knowledge, Endraen had been awaiting offspring for a while now. Many of her previous clutches were infertile, and their numbers had dwindled from six or seven to only four. It must be why she’s so vocal tonight. You wondered if she was speaking to her young ones, or warding off the others in the pit.

“That’s amazing, Katsuki,” in your excitement you grasp his bicep, sinking into his side with a grin. “How many, can I ask? Are they all well? Is she ?”

The corner of his mouth lifts amidst your rambling. “She’s doing good with ‘em so far. Got three outta four, two males and one female,” he breathes, in following his line of sight you see the blood has flaked away to make obvious numerous small bites lining his forearm. He clenches his hand as if to make sure he could still feel it, and the corded muscles shift, “Feisty little fuckers”.

You allay the urge to touch him and trace the weeping circle of baby teeth embedded into his skin. A wave of nervousness washes through you, hesitating before you ask, “Would I be able to go meet them?”

His nose wrinkles like your question left a bad taste on his tongue. “You’re my wife,” he answers plainly, “so you’re welcome to come and go as you please”.

You're uncertain whether it is his offhanded tone or the answer itself that irritates you. It was blatantly untrue. “Am I?” you mutter.

The regret is immediate and you feel him tense in your grip, his skin heated. You peer up at him, anticipation prickling. The specks of moonlight filling the bedroom refract in his eyes, smouldering. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You think of all the days spent watching the grounds. Finding the highest window just to better the view. People of all ilk, loud and cheery, gesticulating as they speak. Simply coming and going, as they please, as he had said. Lacking was the stiff lip and rigidity you’d grown up with. So unlike the traditional rules of your own home, you’d been told that anyone could be anything in Varene if they so wished.

“What I mean is I feel as if I am the only one in this kingdom that is shackled,” you quietly argued. “Even your dragons are able to roam freely while I am hidden away in my quarters”.

A litany of emotions pass over Katsuki’s face as you speak. Disbelief, anger, confusion, regret. He replies through gritted teeth, “I have never told you to squirrel yourself away in our bedchambers”.

“No one has told me otherwise, either!”

“I am not your bastard of a father—!” you regain your balance as he abruptly tears away from you, and instinctively cower. A sharp inhale. The air in the room is hotter, ballooning in your lungs. Through the dark, his palms are emitting a golden glow.

“Oi,” he murmurs with a low, soothing cadence. Similar to the way you’ve witnessed him comfort Endraen’s. Still, it’s awkward in his mouth, lacking confidence. “You’re a grown adult. You don’t need my permission to do anything here. If that’s the reason you’ve been actin’ all skittish then you can quit it”.

Your eyes have adjusted, and you can see his jaw clench as he scowls. An intense sense of dejection emerges. He doesn’t understand. “But you’re my king—“

“I’m your husband ,” his voice raises again in momentary frustration, but as quick as it came, the anger dissipates. Shoulders sagged, he suddenly looks as tired as you feel.

“Just… fuck. We can talk about this tomorrow. It’s late”.

And then he’s slipping into the bathroom, careful to shut the door. It clicks quietly, leaving you in silence once more. He doesn’t understand.

You walk backwards towards the edge of the mattress with a heavy gait. There is blood drying on your fingers, cinching tightly like a second skin. Leaning against the bedpost, the pressure that had been building steadily behind your eyes finally bursts, and you let yourself cry.

Echoes of water as it ripples against the basin, distant yet loud in your ears as you suppress a sob. The chasm between you and Katsuki only grows more apparent as the days pass. Drilled into you from infancy — a king, a father, a husband. They are all the same thing.

He doesn’t understand.

Another's distorted cry spikes through your chest. Again, a voice not your own is clear in your mind. You startle to your feet, casting a hesitant glance back and forth from the balcony to the bathroom. “I am… permitted to come and go as I please,” you whisper resolutely, the material of your gown gathered into your fists.

It felt like a call for help. Virlym. Thief.

The fall from the balcony had not been too far, though you felt the impact still aching in your heels. Your skin frissons in the tepid air, thin robe pulled close to your chest. To be seen so scantily clad by anyone other than your husband would be more than inappropriate, but you close your ears to the anxiety before it can dissuade you.

Desperate, the voice in your head becomes louder as the distance lessens.

Getting lost in your search is an impossibility. The pit is a grand structure beside the castle, almost rivalling it in size and width. The entrance itself is a colossal, gaping opening, like the mouth of a cave. It dwarfs you.

What you know of the pit is from storybook and myth. It is a naturally occurring abyss, a wide, deep fissure in the earth that never ends. Dragons have migrated to Varene for millennia to mate, breed and nest, or simply to rest in their final years as they become too large, too old to fly. Their journeys would begin and end here; in the pit there are an untold number of caves dug into the cliff face, uneven rock and minerals providing perches and shelves. Dark and unreachable by human hand.

When the first chosen King discovered its existence he sought to protect it, and in return was gifted the opportunity to learn their ancient language. As the relationship between man and beast bloomed, only then was it discovered that people in a specific bloodline could be born with a Draconic tongue. They knew the language from birth, like a newborn fawn that instinctively knows how to walk.

You felt akin to a fawn yourself as you entered the maw, tiptoeing down the throat into the belly, seemingly larger on the inside than it is on the out. It is oddly bereft of guards, and not a keeper in sight. Nervous, you twist the wedding ring on your finger. There’s a foreign sense of magic present — the air is heavy, carrying a distinct metallic taste that itches as you inhale. You can feel it sink into your stomach.

The gravel crunches beneath your feet, uncomfortably sharp. Every step taken is louder than the other. You keep your breathing shallow, straining your ears to hear for any sign of life. Deeper and deeper, the smog of magic grows thick. There is no light, your vision obstructed by a sage tinted mist.

“Fuck! They’re heavy, why do I have to carry them all?” you freeze at the sharp voice, three shadowy silhouettes skulking towards you, the middle figure notably bulkier than the others. “I thought— Ah! I thought you said they were babies ”.

Someone hisses with anger, “They are. Now shut the fuck up! We don’t know when they’ll be coming back…”

The realisation slowly dawns. Advancing towards you are three men, cloaked and hooded. On the right is responsible for the metallic taste; he is the caster, outstretched and radiating, viridian runes etched into the palms of his hands. On the left another wields a long, well-worn mageblade, swinging lazily at his side without a care.

Amber eyes meet your own, wide and unblinking. A tremor wracks your body, breathes coming uncontrollably quick. The man in the middle. Wrapped around his torso in cloth and leather are two newborn dragons. All limp, limbs hung and bodies contorted, having been stuffed into the makeshift carrier.

“Oh? Looky here,” before you can react, the tip of the mageblade is tucked firmly against your jugular. “This is rather unexpected, Princess”.

At the back of your mind, you’d known the second you saw the blade. The design originated in Yiryn centuries ago, imbued with rare magic nullifying abilities that were eagerly sought after by neighbouring countries. Pinned to the collar of the man’s hood is a small brooch in the shape of a gourd canteen. You were sure, if given the opportunity to look closer, you’d find intricate flaming feathers engraved into the metal.

An organisation separate from his king's guard and bannermen. Unknown to the public and created to carry out his lawless and immoral whims — three of your fathers one hundred firebirds.

“What— what is your business here?”

Despite the effort, your voice shakes as you speak, the steel pressing closer until it breaks the surface of your skin. He laughs, ungainly on his feet.

“I could ask that of you. If memory serves me right, you used to be a good girl. But here you are—“ his eyes drag over your thinly clothed body, features twisting into a sneer, “—barely dressed and roaming around at night. That beastly king has rubbed off on you”.

“Hachi. Roku is damn near outta juice, so stop fuckin’ playin’ around,” the middle trespasser rumbles a warning, shifting the weight of the young strapped to his chest. Endraen’s young. Your heart splinters at the sight, fury stirring gut-deep. Impulse rears and it spurs you into action as you grab the sword's edge, incognisant to the sting across your palm.

Hachi continues in fits of laughter, stepping back with the force of your shove like it were inconsequential to him. The sound ricochets hauntingly through the cave, intermingling with your strained bursts of anger.

“Take them back to their mother, you—!”

The caster, Roku, lifts his hand and aims it at your head. The runes dance across his skin with a life of their own, luminescent and bright. In their glow you finally get a glimpse of him.

“We need to go. If you want me to sedate her it’ll require my focus to shift from the pit and they’re already waking up as we speak. Make a decision!”

Rather than a monster, he was remarkably unremarkable. Plain faced, a pale man you couldn’t pick in a crowd. His invisibility frightened you in ways you couldn’t understand. And it begged the question, how long had these men truly been here?

“...Even if we kill ‘er we’ll need to take the body…”

In the thick of your thoughts, Hachi knocks the hilt of his blade to your temple, startling you backwards. Knocked off balance, a sharp pain radiates through your left ankle, and he uses the advantage to completely restrain you. You yelp, losing strength. There’s no mercy in how he handles you. Arms pulled so far back you fear they’ll displace, numbness seeps into your fingers. “Kats—!”

Cut off, a grimy hand forcibly covers your mouth. Blunt nails sink into the swell of your cheek, and your cries are muffled as you struggle away from the hot breath on your ear. “None of that. Though I doubt that bastard’ll come searchin’ for a halfbreed like you,” he rasps.

His grip is too tight, keeping your jaw locked shut. Your breaths come ragged short, fingers clawing weakly at his forearm. A cold, wet sensation trickles down the side of your face, right where you’d been struck.

At that moment, a resonant growl reverberates through the earth beneath your feet. The soft hair on your arms lift, a divorced, bone-deep rage unfurling in your soul. It hurts — so hot that it’s cold, swelling in your throat. Intuitively, you know this feeling does not belong to you.

Endraen is waking. And so are the young, snuffling uncomfortably in their slings. They croak, a fragile little sound, and the roar grows louder. Their carrier curses.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! We’re leaving. You’ll need to haul us all to the safe house, there’s no way we’re not getting caught—”

“—You can’t be serious. Spatial magic stinks to high hell! They’ll be able to track us immediately!”

Pain courses through you as they try to yell over the noise, head hanging limp between your shoulders. Barely conscious, Hachi drags you forward. Roku, and the quiet man’s code you are yet to yet, are tucked side by side. He’s hushing the dragons, struggling with their weight.

You spare a glance further down into the pits, tears lining your eyes as they become heavy. An unassuming, small speck of light is beginning to form through the far distant fog. Desperate, you reach inwards to pluck at the fragments of your ancestors, thoughts calling out to Endraen in hopes that she’ll hear you; knuckles rubbing together to roll the wedding ring on your finger down to the tip, you let it fall into the dirt.

What was a pinprick begins to expand and glow, the air around you distorting in unrestrained heat. With a blistering roar, the light suddenly bursts forth. You’re forced between them, their arms interlocking to cage you as Roku bellows, recounting a spell in a language you cannot understand. The flames propel forwards at great speed, incandescent white. A mothers raucous fury. Closer now, your skin becomes uncomfortably tight, too small to fit around your bones, every breath a blistering sting in your oesophagus.

Please, your consciousness wanes. Don’t let Katsuki blame himself for this.

Somebody screams, and the ground is abruptly pulled from beneath your feet. Gravity escapes you. There’s a long moment of suspension and your body is in a freefall, an unnatural swoop through your stomach as your senses are thrown into alarm.

When you land the heat is ripped from your lungs and replaced with petrichor. Three men encase your body, the spells impact creating a gust of wind that disturbs the canopy of trees above, showering you in stray drops of old rain.

Your knees buckle into the damp grass. Roku stumbles away into the brush and vomits.

The safe house is five miles from the southern shoreline and surrounded by pungent scurvy grass, advantageous for disguising the smell of magic. Ninety three from the castle grounds. One hundred and fifty kilometres between you and your husband. You’re thrown into a room made of brick and mortar, tracking daylight through a single window by the ceiling barely the width of your shoulders. There’s a small cot lined up against the wall. In the corner, a lamplight and a bucket.

Your only relief is that the dragons are confined with you. During their first few days it would be normal to be kept in the pits, so the lack of light and room causes no issues in the beginning. They’re playful and rambunctious; most of the time is spent roughhousing, scenting the air or sleeping. When the sun is at its highest, their distinct colouring becomes visible. A marigold like their mother, and another the colour of ripe apricot. Nameless still, you wondered if their third sibling was alright.

In the absence of any weapon or opportunity to run, you fall back onto what has always served you most. Listening. There’s satisfaction in hearing them panic, kept on edge by this faux peace as the days pass. Bit by bit you piece the storyline together — a surreptitious ‘merchant’ by the name of Stendhal awaits the arrival of two abducted nestlings by the waters of Leilisle to transport them across to Reyath, a neighbouring continent.

Allies of King Enji would be there to receive them and train them for a number of years before returning to Yiryn, where they would be miraculously discovered, hidden away on Todoroki lands for the first time in over one hundred years — a magnificent gift from the Gods.

But King Enji knew nothing of dragons. They were not mares with gentle dispositions who could accept any rider, but hard headed creatures with a penchant for solitude. More importantly, the formative experiences that followed hatching greatly shaped their ability to bond with and trust humans. Tearing them from their mother would only hinder his plans.

You supposed it shouldn’t surprise you that your father knew nothing of nurturing, either.

Your presence is the biggest point of contention. Neither man knows what to do with you. Amidst their bickering outside your barricaded door, you learn the third man’s moniker. Shichi. He’s the one to bring you food and water — a plate stale and barebones, just enough to keep you afloat — and he’s the one to hunt beasties for the young. The wet slap of blood meeting tile. Hares and rabbits, mostly. You might never scrub the sound from your memory; but the dragons feasted and fought. Flesh stretched between pointed teeth, pulling apart til it thins like taffy and one corpse becomes two halves.

The days blur as you wait for the impending departure, blending into one long existence. You think of Katsuki. His handsome face, how his hair would splay gold across the pillow, the way his eyes always seemed brighter in the early dawn. You recall with fondness how his nose would wrinkle if you stared too long, like he’d tasted something bitter.

Maybe he prefers that you’re gone, now. Should they never find you, he’d be free to wed another of his own choosing — someone he loves. The possibility of escape seems dim, but you toy with it to pass the hours. In the event that you did get away, you distantly wonder if it’d even be worth going back.

Marigold and Apricot banish those thoughts as they come. They seem to be in tune to your emotional state, a fact that grows evermore blatant in such close quarters. Crying meant a snout shoved into your cheek, a torrid heat billowing through your dirtied robe as the infant chuffs. There is a stain trailing across the floorboards from where raw flesh has been dragged in their efforts to feed you.

“We must name you properly,” you mumble, stroking a hand down the length of their necks. Dragon scales, you discover, evolve with age. Shaped like petals, laying staggered and overlapping. A newborn’s skin is delicate like tissue paper, but already it is beginning to feel like dry leather.

They’re small, but only in comparison to how mountainous they would eventually become. The size of a lynx, if you had to guess. Though marigold is slightly bigger, her muzzle thicker and a wider arrowhead tail, as was common for female dragons.

“A dragon's name can inspire fear, valor, legends…” you push as hard as you can at her muzzle as she chomps carefully at your fingers, her powerful jaw closing with a resounding click. It’s enough to drive her back, and she trills happily. “Something that sounds regal might fit you best”.

A pitched, haunting whine builds in her brother's throat. He butts against your shoulder, and you endure the dull ache. That’ll bruise. “…Yours maybe a little more personable. Goofy”.

He snuffs unhappily.

“Gallant, then”.

Your playful bubble is burst by an unexpected slam, the door swinging open and bouncing on its hinges. The nestlings scatter, intertwining around one another where they’re hidden in the far corner of the room. Apricot gives a pitiful screech of complaint to the intruder.

Light floods in, forcing your eyes shut as you flinch. The familiar, hefty footfalls of Shichi draw them open, squinted to adjust. A plate is slid across the floor towards you. Two bread rolls. You’ve barely enough energy to lift yourself from the threadbare nest of blankets you’d created for yourself and the young, but the ache in your stomach is becoming painful.

“Make sure to finish all of it,” you pause, the crust cold against your lips as you wait. “We’re leaving for the dock tonight”.

You bite. It practically falls apart between teeth, dry and sour on your tongue. He advances, stepping further in and closing the door behind him. “We’re in the clear for now. Those giant winged rats completely missed us, and it seems he’s stopped looking for ya”.

Marigold hisses as if she understood, and Shichi stomps in her direction like a wild bull. Domineering her. He enjoys having power over such respected creatures. You’d like to see him do the same in a few months' time, when her hydrogen glands have developed.

You don’t interrupt as he speaks, knowing how he relished talking about himself. Tired as you are, it’s easier to let him be and tune it out. The bread is hard to swallow, sticking to the back of your throat, and you’re cold in the dragons’ absence as you eat.

Your interest piqued at the mention of entering Varene.

“—so much fuckin’ simpler entering a country than it is gettin’ out”.

You swallow thickly and interrupt him. “How… how did you get in?”

Shichi hums offhandedly, slumping back against the wall opposite. “Well. Your wedding was a pretty grand affair, wasn’it?” he meets your eyes, a quiet cruelty there. “People from all over travelled into the capital to celebrate. Us three blokes slipped across wi’ no problem”.

“You’ve… you were in Varene for six months?”

“These things take time,” a chill runs the length of your spine as he grins, kicking off the wet brick as he straightens up. “You should know that better than anyone, given the state of your marriage”.

Fuck you. If your position weren’t so precarious you might’ve spat it at him. Sensing your anger, the Apricot infant rears his head from beneath his sister's wing and screeches.

Orlit.

Shichi snarls and the sister loosens her jaw in a clear, purposeful warning that stops him in his tracks. Strings of saliva stretch and snap between her teeth, tongue flattening to reveal the swells in the back of her throat; you knew they were duds. He did not.

Amadea.

You’re led from the safehouse as the sky begins to bruise. Roku forces the nestlings into a deep sleep and throws an uncomfortable black cloak over your form, roughly pulling the hood over your head until you’re entirely shadowed. Heavy, open weave and coarse in texture like burlap, it scratches your skin tender.

At the very least, the length protects your calves from the nettled flora as Hachi drags you towards the clearing. There awaits a haggard carriage pulled by a chestnut mare, a method common for transporting goods and fruits. Unsuspecting. A dirt road spools out before you, shielded by the forest's overhang and winding onwards into the night, disappearing into solid darkness.

A rasped voice, lips moving against the shell of your ear that you try to run from, “Don’t get your hopes up. No one’s looking anymore. Not here, and certainly not on the bottom of the ocean”.

You shudder. Whether it is the late night air or the reality of what is about to happen, you can’t be sure.

There are piles of boxes stacked in the back, some full to the brim and coverless, others are locked securely. In the back is another, noticeably larger than the rest. You’ve seconds to process the implications as you’re thrown into it, back slamming against the floor of the wooden chest, breath knocked from your lungs.

Orlit and Amadea are forced into the space left, pressed up behind the crook of your knees and over your legs. There’s no room to stretch, your limbs bent even as you reach the far end of the box. Splaying your hands flat to the runes painted into the panelling, your eyes widen as panic wracks your body.

“Wait—!” Hachi shuts the lid with force, rocking the carriage on its axles. A final click. The sudden momentum slides you up, head thudding painfully against reinforced wood, and so you attempt to hunch into yourself.

There is no telling how much time passes. Perspiration clings to the nape of your neck, flinching involuntarily as everything begins to move. Ephemeral flecks of moonlight pierce through as the canopy shifts above. Your fingers curl, clawing fruitlessly and feeling the timber splinter. You bang against it until your knuckles are raw, splitting open on the surface. The dragons are entirely boneless, leaning the entirety of their weight onto you and shrinking the space even further.

You squeeze your eyes shut, finding solace in the darkness behind them. If you focus enough, you can shape the darkness until it looks like your marriage bed. No longer does it seep into your skin, gradually closing in. constricting and consuming. This is home. This is home. Lungs bloating with held breath, time and time again you reflexively gasp, struggling to allay the panic as the metallic tang dries out your tongue.

Katsuki sits on the edge — on his side of the mattress, still untouched — and leans over. A rough hand cupping your jaw. Slightly clammy, the breeze from the balcony behind him imbued with ash. You would often ball up into yourself like a pill bug as you slept, seeking comfort in a bed that always felt too big.

The memory smites your heart. He isn’t looking anymore, insecurity whispers. You cannot bring yourself to believe it. Whether it be denial or hope, in your soul you knew Katsuki to be stubborn. He mightn’t have fallen in love with you but he treated you well and respected you. You were his wife, and tucked into the nook behind your knees are his niece and nephew. You could only imagine him pursuing the abductors to the ends of the earth.

Yet Shichi’s cocksure smirk flashes through your mind, the image of him slumped back with his shoulders sagged. For the first time ever, he’d seemed truly relaxed. Assured. Because he was confident that it was true.

Recurring daylight provides little assistance in finding the runes, barely enough to cast a shadow. You need to rely on touch, seeking out the smooth texture of the paint. They sting the pads of your fingers as you trace them, vying to keep yourself grounded. There are two, each entirely different. While reading them was an impossibility — even in light; magic was a language you were never fluent with — you were willing to bet on one keeping the dragons sedated, and the other some sort of cloaking spell.

You arrive at the docks, lower abdomen bloated and stomach twisting in vivid hunger. Best guess is,two days have passed. Cursing at the men to let you out to relieve yourself and drink something had only engorged their spite. They intended to weigh your ankles and throw you overboard, so it would be naive to think they’d have any hospitable inclination toward you. The dragons, at the very least, needed to feed. Loss of nutrition at such an early stage could stunt their development, or worse, lead to death.

When the chest is opened again the moon is at its brightest, full and dancing along the ocean's surface. You hiss, flinching away from it as your eyes struggle to adjust, and are dragged unceremoniously by the collar out onto the ground, incognisant to pain.

“Get up,” and you’re lifted again by the throat like a stringless puppet. There is no sensation as your feet touch the ground, knees immediately buckling under your weight. Hachi sighs, dropping you carelessly. You choke on the dirt as it plumes around you.

“Massage your legs. Blood’ll flow back eventually,” he rocks forward into the balls of his feet, leaning to lift the hem of your skirt. You skitter, desperate to hide your naked skin, and hastily throw a handful of earth at him.

It misses with the weak, pendulous swing of your arm. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you croak.

“Oi, oi, calm down Majesty,” he releases the fabric, holding both hands out in mock surrender, “was just checkin’ if you’d turned blue”.

An incessant, pin pricking sensation crawls the length of your legs as phantom turns solid. You grip at your thighs, flesh bursting through the gaps between your fingers, and gasp through the pain. It’s as if you’re growing a new limb all together.

You take a moment to process the surroundings. The air is crisp, the smell of brine rolling in on the waves. Scanning the length of the horizons, your eyes fall onto the dock, dilapidated with sections embellished in thick barnacle build up and vacant aside from a single ship. The hull has high sides, bow and stern both fortified, left entirely unguarded. No longer in use by the common folk, it provides the perfect spot for smuggling goods in and out of Varene.

Behind you, the carriage is hidden at the edge of the treeline. The cicadas are chirping here, too. Shichi releases a strained groan as he carries a dragon over each shoulder, boots slipping along the loose gravel. Amadea’s wings stretch, a sign that she is slowly waking, and bat him in the face.

“Shit— Hurry it up!”

The chest you’d inhabited is dragged towards the shoreline. Roku mutters under his breath as he straightens up, pointedly glaring at his peer as he pulls a small knife from the breast of his coat. Glinting in the moonlight, he runs the blade diagonally across his left palm without so much as a flinch, a familiar viridian glow spiralling up towards the wound.

As you’d suspected, once he has tucked the knife away Roku gathers the blood seeping down his forearm and kneels to repaint the runes with it. “Stop fuckin’ hovering over me. Put them down over there and get the meat out to keep them occupied while we wait for Stendhal”.

Orlit is thrown down beside you, and you rush to cushion his snout in the fall. Amadea lands unsteady on her feet, stretching her wings further to keep her balance in the initial drop, before sinking against your thigh. You stroke the crown of her skull, gently plucking at the horns either side. Their scales are already duller. If it had been just you that was taken, then running might be a possibility. But you cannot leave them behind, and trying to make it back to the city on foot with three men specialising in stealth seemed useless.

You stare longingly at the treeline, but you stay. Shichi throws a skinned carcass at your knees, the wet slap of flesh echoing into the night as rot perforates the air. Neither nestling moves. Setting your own discomfort aside, you pull the viscous sinew apart piece by piece, pressing it against their muzzle to help them eat.

Day breaks with the rising tide. Your hunger is sated with more insipid bread before you’re forced back into the box, into compliance, bloodied symbols suitably dried to the wood. You do not go without a fight, digging your heels into the dirt and letting the full weight of your body sag. But if Shichi can bear the weight of two dragons, yours is inconsequential. Misshapen, bruising ovals mark your arms, tender spots of skin littering the plane of your back.

The last thing you see is Hachi heading to greet a silhouette in the far distance, veering precariously over the edge of the deck with a hand entangled in the shroud. For reasons unknown to you, the firebirds do not want Stendhal to see you until you’re far into Leilisle’s abyss. You rock back and forth as the chest is thrown haphazardly, breathing in measured seconds to quell the anxiety building in your gut so you can focus.

But there is nothing to gauge. No conversation, no mood or atmosphere. You’re plunged into a heavy silence that fills your lungs like water. Your shouts go unheard. This time, as your fist comes into contact with the runes, it sparks violently. A fleeting, excruciating pain shoots along your forearm, before the sensation numbs.

Stendhal discovers you late into the second day, as Shichi opens the box for the first time. A large, haunting man, wrapped in tattered fabrics the colour of blood. He’s all sharp edges, face gaunt and sunken, yet alight with disdain. Fear grips you at the sight of him, rabbit's heart beating right out of your ribs. You stare up at him dazedly, but only when you’re lifted into a seating position does he meet your eyes.

Shichi doesn’t even blink, much less flinch, as Stendhal tucks the edge of a blade to his jugular. “This is what you’ve got me smuggling?” he snarls, tone serrated like the weapon he wields. The wound left is no deeper than a paper cut, but it weeps all the same. “You told me it was just some rare beastie nestlings”.

A rough hand grips your jaw, nonplussed. You tear at it as your mouth is forced open, the edge of a cup pressed to your lips. The water is forced down your throat, spilling over your chin and saturating your cloak. You swallow, eyes squeezing shut as you smother the urge to choke. Shichi releases a long suffering sigh.

“Can you honestly say that if you’d known about our precious Lady here,” the grip on your jaw tightens, his strength forcing your head to the side, plainly showing your face to Stendhal, “That you wouldn’t have killed us and sold her off yourself?”

“I would have told you to go fuck yourself,” the jagged blade presses deeper with his anger, “it takes two weeks to get to Reyath! Were you just going to have her wither away in there, you oaf?”

“Wouldn’t matter either way ‘cause we’re sinking her halfway across,” Shichi replies. He visibly swallows, throat contracting as the stream of blood seeps into his collar. “She’s of no consequence to us or the King”.

Reality stings — the truth is a skin you cannot take off. His fingertips bruise your cheeks, nails bitten and dirty. Any effort to twist away from him proves futile; like a snake, his hands will continue to constrict the more you struggle. Stendhal watches on without sympathy, a flat displeasure woven into his expression. He regards you as an inconvenience, you realise. It’s a look you’ve seen many times.

“Keep her out of my sight,” he says with finality, retracting the katana. He reaches overhead, slipping it into the strap at his back. “I will not be made an accomplice in this”.

Shichi nods, “You had no knowledge of it”.

And true to their word, you do not see Stendhal again. You’re kept in the underbelly, presumably, given small glances in the days that follow. You are checked on once every morning to ensure the dragons are fed through their disorientation — a job that falls to you, observing as their wings stretch becomes your only source of relief. The ache that spreads through your hips has dulled remarkably. Contorted to fit the confines of the box, your blood struggled to reach your limbs. Numbness proceeds the pain. That, you can handle. It’s the vertigo that keeps you from sleeping.

Should your eyes fall closed, your body is struck with an alarming spinning sensation, nausea worsening when your panic grows. So you fix your gaze on the paper thin cracks in the wood, drawing slow breath and tasting the salty sea air as it seeps through. Gone are the comforts of your imagination. Katsuki’s voice distorts, asphyxiating it as you hoard your clutch of memories in tightly held fists, scared of what might happen if you let go.

How long have you been missing, now? Almost two weeks? Near enough three?

“…Fuck…They’re sailing towards…!”

The sudden urgency holds your attention. You blink away the dryness, tongue sticking heavily to the roof of your mouth. It hurts to swallow, and as you grimace the skin on your lip begins to split.

“They’re pirates?”

You hear Stendhal’s voice above you. There’s an uncomfortable grit to it, grating on your ears like his throat had been lined with rottenstone. “Technically. Though you’d best be wary, ‘cause they’re altruistic bastards,” you flinch backwards, head meeting reinforced timber as a raucous thud impacts the outside of the box. “S’pathetic. Pretending like they’re heroes,” he spits.

“Fuckin— careful with the goods, Stendhal. Don’t disrupt the enchantment or those things’ll wake up”.

A scoff. “The enchantment is the last thing you’ll have to worry about if those fakes ask for a peek. Eraser doesn’t fuck around with trafficking”.

You hadn’t a clue what they were talking about. What you could infer from the muffled exchange is that someone was coming — another ship, likely sailing the same course. And hope for escape was contingent on their curiosity.

“It doesn’t matter. The cunt can check, I’ll make sure he won’t see a damn thing in there”.

Stendhal barks an abrupt laugh, his next words too muffled for you to hear. The distance grows and the conversation steadily quietens, laden footsteps marching further away from you.

“…What kind of a name is Eraser anyway…”

The hull groans then, rolling over a strong wave. Your centre of gravity is displaced and you feel another bout of nausea. Amadea and Orlit are still sleeping deeply, but you’ve noticed their consciousness surfacing now and then as the magic wanes. You wonder what it was that Roku used as a conduit for his spells, if he used one at all.

Some hereditary types could rely on the wielder as a conduit, like Katsuki’s or your brothers’, eventually draining their own energy. Rare, but not impossible, and it would explain the inconsistency. If so, these runes were likely painted in his own blood.

You grimace, wiping your fingers against the facsimile burlap around your shoulders. Nails catch on a stray thread, and you pull so hard it makes a ladder. The only benefit in having little to no circulation is that being numb means you can no longer feel its itch.

The minutes stretch. When you hear thunderous feet rushing across the deck, stumbling down the stairwell, it comes unexpectedly. You hadn’t heard any disruption in the ocean around you, nor any indication of an approaching threat. Your captors are yelling, their curses overlapping, and you can taste the magic surrounding you as it briefly strengthens.

“Get the fuck off our…!”

Their demands suddenly rasp and thin, lost with breath. Another can be heard over all the noise. They've an oddly melodious cadence, speaking his words like they were lyrics from a song. “Hey hey! If there’s nothing to worry about then why not just let Eraser have a peek, ya dig?”

A snarl, the unmistakable sounds of a tousle. “Hachi, would ya calm down? It’s just as he said,” Roku instructs, emphasising his words as if he were speaking between the lines, “we’ve got nothin’ to worry about”.

Nervous, you reach down to pet Orlit’s scaled skin, stroking the space between his brow bone with your thumb. There is no certainty that these pirates would help you — it's entirely possible they’ll take all three of you for more heinous purposes. Dragonhide is sold abroad for barrels of gold, and you’re under no illusion about the riches your own body could procure.

The chest is yet again unlocked. Your body pulls taut and you cower, muscles clenched with bated breath as you’re drenched in sunlight. Above you is a man in a washed out white shirt, open at the collar where the laces fall loosely. There’s a sabre tucked into the belt of his trousers, the broad handguard protruding at his hip. Dark hair slips forward to curtain his face as he bends to search the box, and from behind them are irises gleaming iridescent red.

To your surprise, they meet your own, piercing right through the enchantment. The pirate's disinterested expression immediately hardens at the sight of you, jaw visibly tightening where his teeth grit. His gaze drags toward the far end of the chest, finding the nestlings unconscious. Intuitively, you know to stay quiet; there’ll be more trouble if the others are alerted. Instead you watch as he fights to maintain composure. The exposed skin of his chest, covered in dark tufts of hair, expands with a deep inhale. He rolls his shoulders loose.

“See?” Roku goads. “All good”.

Eraser straightens his back, and you realise how tall he is. Broad. The type of man you do not want to disappoint. “Yeah,” he turns, gesturing with his hand as he speaks. You feel the baritone of his voice low in your belly. “It’s just cotton linens. Looks like moleskin and velveteen”.

“Velveteen? Well shit, Stendhal. Care to spare any..?”

Stendhal fumes, “Don’t involve me in your Robin Hood bullshit, Mic. I’m paid to move the goods, not to protect it or to sell it”.

The opposite hand motions to you, a signal to wait. One last glance from the corner of his eye, he gently shuts the chest without locking it. Your heart beats in your throat, and you contort yourself to press an ear to the wood, if only to hear your own fate.

There’s barely a scuffle. You might not have realised anything happened, had the magic not abruptly receded around you, copper dissipating and the air steadily replaced with sea salt. A distorted mewl builds in Amadea’s chest, her paws spread and claws extending as she stretches. The heat of her body drastically rises with consciousness, warm like the sun against your legs.

When it next opens, there’s another boy. A man, you should say. You avert your gaze from his own bare skin, chest visible in a loose black vest buttoned only to his sternum. He’s braced over you, violet hair in disarray and lean arms in plain view and decorated in scar tissue; most prominently a slash on his bicep, raised and pink as it curves around his muscle.

Squinting, the shadows beneath his eyes deepen, along with his voice. “I can’t see through the veil yet so I don’t know where you’re at but,” cautiously, he offers his hand into the unknown, “we aren’t here to hurt you”.

Swallowing against the staccato beat of your heart in your throat, you unfurl a hand from where it is curled like a cat's paw and take his. His breath hitches, lithe fingers grazing against the naked skin where your wedding ring should be. Palms kiss, he clasps firmly, helping you up and out of the box.

You see the moment your identity registers with him. He stalls, recognising you. Eyes widening, lips parted to quietly say, “Shit. You’re…”

“The nestlings are in there too,” you interrupt, the words rasping uncomfortably in your throat after days of silence, “please. I can’t carry them on my own”.

“Shit,” he repeats. You’re barely upright, awkward on your feet with the gait of a newborn deer. He hesitates for a split second before steadying you at the hip, warmth seeping through the cloak. “Okay. Okay,” he murmurs, sparing a desperate glance over his shoulder toward the steps. “Oi! One of you get over here—”

Another descends, lankier than the rest. The daylight leaking in from above circles his head like a halo, bejewelling the beautiful blonde braid pleated over his shoulder. There are a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose, strangely tinted. He skips the final step with a jump, landing loudly in his thick boots.

The man assesses the two of you from over the tinted lenses, lingering on your face. “What’s the problem kiddos?”

His fingers twitch impatiently as he spares you a quick glance, drawing awareness to just how close you are. “Need your help manoeuvring the nestlings. Her Maj— she can barely walk”.

You’re comforted by his efforts to conceal your identity, and amused that he’d instinctively fall back onto the use of proper titles. It revealed to you that, presumably, he’d either lived in Varene or visited often enough to be knowledgeable of you.

Hands cupped around his mouth to direct the sound of his voice towards the main deck, the blonde man bellows startlingly loud, “Yo! Shadow!”

The hand at your hip slides further at your abrupt flinch, arm wrapping around the small of your back. So different to the molten heat of your husband. His proximity plucks at your centre of gravity, a deeply cold sensation spreading throughout your chest. Vulnerability, and then an immediate feeling of shame.

“Forgive me for overstepping, Majesty,” he tells you under his breath, his face blooming a pale pink as he keeps his eyes locked firmly on his crewmate. “Use me for support and it’ll be over quickly”.

On your periphery, another appears fashioning a long black cloak not unlike your own, the train streaming down the steps like water, but you’re apathetic to their presence. You focus your energy on getting out of the box. Your tomb. Feeling returns to the tips of your toes, pleading with your mind to let them wiggle. Wires are still crossed, nerves dulled. You can bear weight on one leg but not the other, so as he’d suggested you brace against an unfamiliar chest for leverage, limbless as you try to bend the knee to slip over the open edge.

Bare feet meet damp wood. The knots and bumps scratch at your sole, and the hood hanging at your back is pulled over your head for discretion's sake. Gradually, you find yourself being led towards the upper deck. Whispers of disorientation, loss and anxiety on the edge of your consciousness.

The chambers in your heart cinch in a way you cannot ignore as the unmistakable sound of Amadea’s distress reaches your ears. Roku’s spell has worn off, and the nestlings are left confused by your absence. Frightened. Orlit croons. You whip around in the strangers embrace, gripped by a fierce protectiveness for them. “Don’t!” both men pause, one either end of the chest, but they do not lower.

Now that you’re looking, you see the newcomer draped in black is wearing a mask — unsettling eyes meet yours through two open round holes, the lower half of his face covered by what resembles a large beak.

You exhale, forcing some authority into your words. “Don’t take them from me”.

“Alright,” the slender blond concedes. He comes across warmly and easygoing, such a contrast to the venomous tone you’d heard him used upon first boarding the ship. Nodding towards ‘Shadow’, they start to shuffle the wooden chest over to where you stand at the foot of the steps.

“Let’s all go up together,” he smiles down at you, dipping to see you beneath the hood. “What’s your name by the way, kid? I’m Mic, but friends call me Yamada, and that lad behind ya is called Mimic”.

Mimic, Mic, Shadow. He knows, and yet he still asks. You aren’t sure why that makes you so happy. When you give your own name, he rolls it around his teeth, testing the syllables. Shadow bows his head in acknowledgment, beak tucking to sternum, but he doesn’t speak.

The breeze sinks its teeth into you, and you shrink into Mimic’s embrace. A cacophony floods your senses — waves lapping up the starboard, wind rushing across the surface and sending a spray of water onto the deck. Casting a great shadow is a double masted ship, wide sails billowing a ruckus, dwarfing the merchant's boat where it has sidled up on the left. Cutting across the cavern between the two is a wide, lengthy plank of wood.

Above it all, familiar, enraged voices. Tied together, back to back, you find the three firebirds struggling against rope. Looming over them is the dark haired man, the one who saw through the spell. One hand lazily swings the mageblade, his wrist twisting fluidly, while the other is fisted tightly into Roku’s scalp, head dragged up to force eye contact. You note that the runes in his arms have vanished.

“That scary guy is called Eraser,” Mic relays to you as he follows your line of sight, straining at the weight of the nestlings as he readjusts his grip, “or Aizawa, since you might be with us a while”.

Aizawa, you ponder. That name sounds incredibly familiar to you.

“Should you really be giving his name out like that?” Mimic murmurs, turning you away from your assailants and taking course toward the makeshift bridge. Mic barks a laugh, totally unrestrained. If the sudden shouting was anything to go by, you’d say Hachi had now become aware of your departure. The mission slipping like sand through their fingers.

“It’s fine. You know he doesn’t care about people knowing. The little lady isn’t gonna tattle, are ya?” Mic grins. “Just focus on getting everyone aboard. Make sure you find something clean for her to wear while the rest of the crew finishes up”.

Passing over the untamed oceans with bated breath, you feel as if you are outside of yourself. The drop is great, the depths ever greater. Overhead are wires, ropes and chains, men hanging like spiders from the shrouds and watching as you climb aboard the ship. They are all distinctly individual, yet working in synchrony. It isn’t a crew with a uniform, no memorable feature in their clothing or weaponry that might tie them to a specific band of pirates. Misfits, each and every one of them, all at home together.

You’re taken into the captain's quarters below the helm, spanning the width of the stern with a large set of windows overlooking the horizon. The first thing you see upon entering is the rounded voyage table, a clear centrepiece in the room; but more eye-catching are the shelves and bookcases draped in navy velvet curtains, storing leather bound books and rinky-dink treasures.

Mic and Shadow set the chest on the floor, lowering their heads into a subtle bow as they depart. Mimic gestures towards a bed tucked away into an alcove for more privacy as he ambles over to a set of drawers, jiggling the handle as it refuses to open. Inside are cotton shirts and dark pants, not unlike the clothing their captain wore.

He hesitates in handing them to you, instead bending to lay them across the mattress. “I’ll go find you something to eat after, so feel free to get changed into something more comfortable,” he says, an awkward demeanour about him, “I’ll… make sure to knock”.

“Okay,” you rasp, “thank you… Mimic?”

He nods, backing away in hesitance steps before retreating to the deck, closing the door soundly behind him. Amadea is the first to exit the chest in their absence, clumsily scurrying ahead to hide beneath the bed frame. Leaden with exhaustion, you collapse beside the clothing and rub the fabric between your fingers, feeling the phantom ring between your knuckles. Only then do you notice the crest embroidered into the sleeve cuff.

Aizawa. A clan originating in Yiryn that, long ago, wielded the ability to nullify all magics — the original creators of the mageblades. The last of their line were thought to have died out decades ago after attempting to flee the country over political differences, which had ended in violence. It would certainly explain why he could see through the cloaking spell.

If this was a descendant of the Aizawa’s, then did their hospitality mean you were safe, or were you perhaps a pig for them to fatten? An opportunity for vengeance?

You changed into the new clothes with haste and eyes kept firmly on the door. Dread knotted in your belly, tightening at every noise that passes, but nobody enters. The shirt is loose, sleeves hung comically over your hands, and the collar continues to slip forward bearing cleavage no matter how often you readjust it.

The pants are easier. You tighten the waist with string and roll the legs up mid calf, wincing at the bracelet of bruises swelling around your ankle that you soon cover with thick socks made to cushion leather boots. For the first time in weeks, the soles of your feet do not protest when laid flat.

These clothes hang awkwardly on your frame, so far removed from the soft silks, flowing skirts and tulle. You wring your hands together restlessly. The nakedness of your left ring finger is still stark. “Orlit,” with a short trill, his head lifts from inside the open chest once you call for him, bleary eyed as he surveys the surroundings. You push your discarded clothes across the bed and pat the space they once occupied, “come here”.

He listens. More and more, the nestlings have behaved in a way that indicates human understanding. Or rather, understanding of you . It puts to question all those years of your fathers berating, of the disappointment and abuse levied towards you because it was presumed you had inherited no affinity for Draconic.

With no concept of personal space, Orlit scrambles onto the bed and collapses into your lap. You wince at the sound of linens being torn beneath his claws, and watch as his limbs stretch. Feeling the hot huff of breath against your thigh, you can sense that he’s relieved by the extra space.

Pressure firm but careful in handling the hide you massage the leathery membrane stretched across thin bone, pleased to see they’d grown again, wings almost longer than the length of his body in just a few weeks. If he were at home with his birth mother, Orlit would very likely be nearing the age that’d see him pushed into the pit to fly. Another month or so, you estimate.

Amadea remains hidden for an unsettlingly long time. Known for being slightly more confident than her brother, you’d expected the roles to be reversed. Leaning over the edge to peer beneath the bed frame, you whisper her name and she responds with a long cry, so forlorn that your throat tightens.

L'gra. Fear.

How can I make this better? you want to ask. What can I do?

There’s regret that you did not observe how the pit keepers handled young dragons or ask your husband more prying questions. Katsuki wasn’t of Drachian blood, but it has never truly been synonymous with the royal bloodline. Kings are chosen in Varene. Yet, despite his inability to commune with his dragons the ancient way, he still deeply understood them. They were a mirror reflection of him. They enjoyed his brazen, loving nature. He was a flame you were drawn to, rather than a fire you fled from.

It makes you wonder how he would handle this situation — would he know how to soothe them?

Your thoughts drift to your mother then, your mawkish memory of her associated closely with the helplessness you feel in this moment. You wonder if she endured it too. If she cried as you wailed in fits of discomfort, turning away every comfort she offered, hating herself for it. You couldn’t tell her what you needed, not as a babe.

Not even now, as an adult.

“We’re going to be okay,” you lamented. If you closed your eyes, you could picture your younger self hiding beneath the bed with her. “I’ll do better. I’ll protect you”.

Mimic returns with a tentative knock on the door. Even after giving verbal permission to enter, he’s slow to open it. You watch, bemused, as he steps into the room with eyes kept to the floor.

“I’m clothed, Mimic. You’re fine to look”.

The muscles in his jaw clench, ears shifting beneath his unkempt violet hair, thick and trimmed shorter at the front, yet longer at the back. You notice the lobe is pierced with a silver hoop, and the shell is cuffed. Both pieces of jewellery are linked by a short, delicate chain.

“…The dragons?”

You smile nervously, glancing down to where Orlit is resting on your thigh, and Amadea atop your foot. “They’re calm. You’d know if they weren’t”.

He huffs a short laugh, more disbelief than amusement, and meets your gaze. From behind his back, he pulls out a sea biscuit. It’s colourless and round with the appearance of a sand dollar. “We have pickled vegetables and fruit, but I figured you might want to start small. S’bad to agitate your stomach”.

You take it, turning it between your fingers. You do not tell him that you’re sick of starchy food, bitterness already gathering on your tongue at the thought of tasting something so dry. When you don’t immediately devour it, his eyes narrow. “You need to eat something. I know those dickheads barely fed you,” he insists.

In silent acquiescence, you bring the biscuit to your mouth to take a performative bite. At the very least, it isn’t stale. Much softer, melting pleasantly on your palate. Amadea lifts her head at the sound of chewing, blinking expectantly at you. Swallowing the mouthful, you ask, “Is there anything for them to eat, too?”

Mimic scratches idly at the side of his cheek. “Wasn’t sure what they should be eating, since they’re nestlings. Gotta admit, I know next to nothing about dragons aside from the fact that they’re scary as all hell,” he replies. “We have fresh fish. Salted meat in the stores, too”.

“Either is fine but the fresh meat will probably be better,” you do not tell him how eventually, their stomachs will be strong enough to digest almost anything. Bone and rock, even certain metals, if they’re desperate. He nods, and as he turns to leave, “—again, thank you, Mimic”.

An abrupt halt in his step. Hand hovering on the door knob, he glances back at you. “Hitoshi,” he says. “My name’s Shinsou Hitoshi. Call me whichever you want”.

Hitoshi remains weary. You get the feeling he doesn’t know how to behave around you, but still graciously brings back what he promised. The dragons are ensnared by the pungent smell of brine as soon as it enters the room. A bag of fresh fish is thrown unceremoniously across the room, spilling out the opening of the sack onto the floor. He doesn’t stay long, driven away by the burst of violence between the two as they bicker over who gets what. You stay in place, knowing better than to pull them apart.

It wasn’t true anger. They were mostly playing, establishing a natural hierarchy. At this size, it wasn’t too much of a threat — yet. Katsuki used to recount with fondness about the bloodshed that sometimes followed a dragon feeding, especially amongst the larger females. “Endraen always wins though,” he’d told you with a grin. Sincere pride, not an inkling of arrogance. “That’s my fuckin’ girl”.

You’re left alone, for the most part. You supposed the crew were giving you privacy, or time to adjust. But it pushes you to the razor's edge of ambivalence, and impatience eventually urges you towards leaving the secluded quarters.

With the nestlings satiated, curled up in a bundle of torn up bed sheets that you hope will not be missed, you pluck up the courage to head out onto the deck. The instinct to be light footed and careful reminds you of the nights you would sneak across the palace grounds in Yiryn to see your siblings after a particularly rough meeting with Enji, skin still blistering.

Surprisingly, not one person stops you on the way. No questions as to where you were going, or what you were doing. Instead you receive numerous solemn nods, and the odd unpracticed bow in greeting. Word had spread.

Measured in steps, the distance between the door and the edge of the deck wasn’t all too great. The sea is calm, almost a cradle. She holds the ship in the depths of her palms and the wind spurs it forwards. So blue and clear, you can hardly decipher where the horizon begins.

Shouto would have loved it.

Aizawa is disturbingly quiet as he settles beside you, forearms resting against the deck and alcohol in hand. He is somehow one of the most intimidating men you’ve ever met, all the while having little to no presence. There is no immediate exchange of words, only your slow and purposeful breaths.

Dark eyes briefly flicker over your form. Aizawa pulls the bottle from his mouth with a resounding pop, leaving behind a sheen of rum, and tilts it forward. “Here,” he murmurs.

“Thanks,” you reach out, fingers wrapping around the bottle's neck and grazing his own. He’s warm, rough skinned. Neither of you comment on it, his gaze fixed pointedly on your expression as you bring the finish to your lips.

The aroma is rich, sweet like overly ripe bananas. You tip back, feeling it dry and bitter on your tongue. There are hints of vanilla and brown sugar, a sting to your throat that begs you to cough. You hear a quiet laugh.

“Too strong?”

Your expression twists, “It’s good. But it burns”.

“That’s why it’s good,” he smirks. “Seasick?”

You exhale, handing the bottle back. “Just thinking about my siblings. They only know of the ocean from picture books and maps”.

The dark hair that previously curtained his face has now been tucked away beneath the confines of a patterned cloth tied around his forehead, two loose tassels hanging by his temple. He’s pale for a seaman. It tells of his dedication to being a hermit. “They waiting for you back home?”

Your chin dips as you swallow, teeth sinking into the flesh of your inner cheek. The memory of the firebird brooch on your kidnappers' lapels flashes unbidden through your mind. Reflexively, you have begun to fiddle with the phantom ring on your finger. Aizawa cannot know that there is no home to go back to. It is a reality that wears you thin.

“No,” is your reply. Silence follows. Nervously, you glance towards him and find he is already right looking back at you. When he meets your gaze there’s an understanding there that you hadn’t expected.

“Is that why you haven’t asked where we’re taking you?”

Did it really matter?

“Could I ask you something?” — he nods, and the tassels bounce against his crown — “Do you resent me for what happened to your relatives?”

You’re shocked to hear him scoff. “Nothing happened to my clan, kid. They weren’t happy in Yiryn and they left before your—” he pauses to think, taking another swig as he does “—before your great great grandfather could imprison the last of them. Even if I did hold animosity toward the Todoroki name, you are far from at fault”.

“Our books say members were persecuted for treason and run out amidst political infighting. That’s why we have so few mageblades left…”

“There are few mageblades left because my previous relatives took most of their weaponry and fled with it,” he says, aimlessly passing his thumb over the top of his bottle, making a quiet sound with the trapped air. “King Enmei planned to use them in a surprise incursion along the East Varene border, despite having signed the peace treaty”.

Gracelessly, your only reply is “Oh”.

True, you had known not to trust most of the historical texts in the Todoroki library; but knowing that and hearing it are two different things. You recall the older blade he’d taken from Hachi. “It must be nice, then. To have a piece of your heritage back with you”.

He shrugs, though not unkindly. You feel a kinship with him that you hadn’t expected. That comfortability leads you to ask, “Do you ever feel like you don’t belong anywhere?”

A deep sigh. “Maybe at one time, yes,” Aizawa rubs idly at the scruff along his jaw and casts his eye toward the endless horizon. “Though that is fundamentally untrue”.

“Why?” you feel yourself grin, playful as you lean against the edge of the deck. “Do you belong to the oceans now?”

He huffs shortly, and it sounds suspiciously like a laugh. “No,” the hull rolls smoothly over a passing wave, sliding you into his side. Warmth seeps through the loose cotton of his shirt sleeves. Accepting the closeness, he nudges your arm to emphasise his point, “I belong to myself now”.

You think about your body being a home. About the sun rising and setting between skeletal window panes, of the child you outgrew that sleeps in an alcove carved into your sternum. How on worse nights, cowering away from the boom of Enji’s voice and embraced by Touya’s bandaged arms with Shouto curled at your side, you would retreat into yourself. For as long as you could remember, that was the only safe place you had.

At what point had that stopped being true, you wonder; at what point did the voice in your head become your fathers? The memories are diluted, and jaded, your own wants muddied by his footprints. There was a reason you stopped stepping inside of yourself.

“Oddly philosophical for a pirate,” you muse, pushing the thoughts aside. Aizawa huffs.

“Not a pirate. Now I'm just a man with a boat,” he turns at an angle, peering over his shoulder towards his crewmates' antics, “...and a soft spot for strays”.

You look alongside him to find the group of men huddled together, playing a game you couldn’t name if asked. They have two sets of dice in the bottom of a cup, shaken and thrown across the circle. On some numbers they cheer, on others they groan. Yamada, you recognise, is proudly gregarious, and off to the side Shadow and Hitoshi have paired off to watch in their own bubble of amusement.

“All I can say is, what you perceive isn’t always the whole truth,” he pulls your attention back, and you drink from the bottle as he offers it once more. This time, you swallow it smoothly, and the burn is pleasant. “Reality is often subjective. So don’t assume you aren’t wanted, or that you don’t belong, if it’s from the confines of your own head”.

You inhale, the sea salt bloats your lungs. Your body rolls with the rock of the ship as the ocean's temperament begins to change. Far off in the expanse of clear sky, there are bruising cumulonimbus clouds bleeding into blue. How befitting.

Aizawa continues through your silence. “We can take you to Varene after we get to the Valcana isles, if that’s what you want. We won’t be voyaging out again for a few weeks, so you have time to think about it”.

“You aren’t going to drag me back for whatever reward they’re offering?” you blurted, the concept of choice still so foreign. A stone of guilt sinks through your stomach as his expression pinches, a little hard to decipher.

“I’m no bounty hunter. I want you to make that decision yourself,” then his brow quirks, the distaste softening into quiet amusement, “Hitoshi is, though. He’ll know more than I do”.

You’re informed it’ll take another day and a half to reach the Isles of Valcana — a cluster of mountainous jewels in the middle of Leilisle, covered in lush green. It was renowned as a rest stop amongst all seamen, sailors, merchants and pirates alike. The population is a small one; only around six thousand people inhabited the main island, while the less accessible ones were largely left to nature.

The opportunity to question Hitoshi doesn’t present itself until the following morning, when the ship is mostly bereft. Many of the motley crew are resting, strung around the upper and lower decks as they sleep through their wicked hangovers.

It’s as good a time as any to let the nestlings stretch. You’d been assured that no one on the ship had ill intent toward either of you — in fact, Aizawa even allowed you to stay overnight in his quarters. “Don’t worry about this guy,” Mic had told you, the frame of his glasses slipping haphazardly down his nose, “he can fall asleep practically anywhere”.

Still early, you see the sun rising gently above the seam of the horizon and painting the ocean's surface a glorious expanse of orange and pink. Time always moves forward. You’re reminded of how vast the world is, and how infinitesimal you are in it.

Despite their freedom, the nestlings stick to your side. Amadea rumbles, a sound made in the depths of her chest, and you push playfully against her snout when she nuzzles at your elbow. You have set up camp below the foremast, right by the ship’s edge. Reaching out over the sea is the figure of a bare chested woman, her extended hand rising and falling with the waves.

The air is tepid, almost a caress. Your fingers work clumsily on a spare piece of rope you'd cut from a spool on Aizawa’s bookshelf. Knots weren’t something you knew from memory, but you had a vague image of what a bowline should look like.

You huff, examining the twists and turns. It definitely did not look like this.

Charmingly, he starts with, “You’re kinda bad at that, huh?”

Startled, you look up to see Hitoshi approaching with slow wading steps, like his boots were full of water. His eyes are where his true feelings lie, narrowed to focus on the nestlings by your knees.

Amadea remains at your side, full from her breakfast. Orlit, however, is becoming braver with every hour that passes. The food burns through him quicker, body moving with bubbling energy as he starts forward. “Orlit,” you call out in warning. It doesn’t reach him.

You knew intuitively that it was pure curiosity. Orlit had seen Hitoshi bring the food before, and thus recognised his voice. But the bounty hunter could only exercise caution, stumbling back and steadying himself with the rig.

“ Orlit ,” you repeat authoritatively. The nestling stops.

“Don’t worry,” you try your best to show Hitoshi a reassuring smile. “He means you no harm, they just associate you with food”.

A scoff, grip briefly tightening on the shroud as if preparing to jump up. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing,” he says, choosing to come closer anyway. The male dragon stays his place, even ducking his head coyly in what you’re sure is an apology.

His earring glints in the light as Hitoshi lowers himself onto his haunches, slow to settle with his legs crossed. The apprehension can’t be blamed. Amadea watches him like a hawk the entire way. “What’re you trying to make?”

“I was just playing around. It’s supposed to be a bowline knot,” you tell him, lips thinning as he laughs under his breath. He reaches across, pausing abruptly at Amadea’s grunt, and you relinquish your grip to give it over.

As he fashions the knot himself, it’s hard to keep track of his practiced hands. “The rabbit comes out of the hole, goes around back of the tree, and then jumps back into the hole,” he mutters rhythmically, a triumphant gleam in his eye as he brandishes the perfect bowline, waving it between the two of you. “Did you never learn that song as a kid?”

“No,” your admittance has you feeling somewhat abashed. “I wasn’t allowed to listen to much music as a child”.

Hitoshi’s expression sours as he loosens the rope, “Well you’ll hear plenty from these losers to make up for it”. You smile when his anger softens at the mention of his crew, shuffling forward on your knees when you’re beckoned forward. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to do it”.

And he does, reciting the common ditty for you once more as he guides your fingers with the working end, or as you know it now, the rabbit. Then he covers your fist with his own, and you both pull together tightly, creating a bowline much like the one he’d shown you.

“Thank you Hitoshi,” you breathe, smiling down at the knot, feeling pleased with yourself. He inhales sharply and quickly retracts his hand as if you had burned him, rubbing it down the front of his vest.

Whatever thoughts had been brewing in Hitoshi’s mind are abruptly interrupted as Orlit lunges forward to take the rope between his molars. You release your grip before your arm is pulled from the socket, watching on fondly as he begins to shake it left and right like a pup.

Keeping your eyes on the young dragon while he gallivants across the deck, it’s as good a time as any to bring up what Aizawa had mentioned the day prior. “I heard that you’re a bounty hunter,” you needled, hoping it’d be leading enough.

It isn’t. “I am,” he concedes, picking at the seam of his boot.

“Then, don’t you want to hand me back over to Varene?”

The air around you changes slightly as the wind picks up. Hitoshi leans forward, almost curing into himself as he rests an elbow atop his knee, “Dunno. I heard you aren’t sure you want to go back home in the first place,” he returns, mouth quirked. “Trouble in paradise?”

It’s clear that he’s teasing, which is why you give your best effort in keeping the surge of defensiveness for your husband from showing on your face. You want to cling onto the building equilibrium for a little longer.

Habitually, you pinch the flesh on your ring finger. Weeks have passed and still you feel a vulnerable nakedness without it. Before you’re able to reply, you hear a regretful murmur of, “Sorry”.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you tell him, leaning back as Amadea lifts her neck, arching to stretch her wings. “It’s nice having people treat me as an equal”.

Orlit trills, calling out to his sister. It echoes over the waves as they lap against the hull, the sway strumming at your centre of gravity. “How much is on my head?”

“Enough to see me through two lifetimes without struggle. Not counting the nestlings,” he replies. “Your father is offering about the same. Word has it tensions are worsening between the two, and he’s laying blame on Varene for your disappearance”.

Regardless of your growing kinship with Hitoshi, there are still things you know aren’t for his ears. King Enji feigning anger, and having orchestrated the taking of the nestlings, is one of those things. The knowledge that where you could not mend a bridge, you were now being the tool to demolish it entirely, sits like lead in your chest.

Return to Varene with the truth, and war will surely erupt; you may only be further separated from your siblings, and your mother. Return to Yiryn with the nestlings and you’ll likely never see them, or Katsuki, ever again.

Suddenly, it is hard to speak past the swell in your throat.

Sensing your discomfort, Hitoshi mercifully drops the subject. Instead he lays out their plan for the day ahead. In a few short hours you’ll be at the port. With the markets thriving past noon, it’s decided you and the nestlings will remain in Aizawa’s quarters until dark, when it’ll be much safer to move you.

While the isles have quite a laissez-faire approach in order to provide a neutral place for people from all corners of the world, it was a fact that few sailors from both Varene and Yiryn could be passing through. Hiding you was simple enough, the nestlings were a little harder to explain away.

“We have a good idea of where you can stay for a bit,” Hitoshi explains offhandedly, staring at Orlit. Throughout the conversation, the young dragon had crept closer and closer, pressing himself to the floor in a show of surrender.

You felt his intent. The word is meaningful, cloying on your tongue. Thurirl — I’m not a threat. Orlit wanted to befriend the bounty hunter. This human’s hair is bright, and he brings good food. Such is a dragon's way of thinking. It’s unbearably cute.

“I don’t have any form of payment right now,” you reply, worrying the flesh of your bottom lip between your teeth; mostly an effort to fight a smile. Remaining quiet so as not to disrupt the moment, you watch his hand reach toward Orlits snout.

Every muscle in Hitoshi’s arm is visibly tense, like a spring coiled tight and ready to leap. Feelings of anticipation and excitement thrum through your veins, strong enough for you to appreciate how much the nestling is truly restraining himself as this new friend strokes over his head.

“You won’t need to pay. Eraser will take care of it,” he continues to speak as you protest, “believe me. He’s just like that. If you leave any payment you’ll find it back in your pocket without knowing how it got there”.

You laugh, “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience”.

“Something like that—”

“Hey, hey kiddos! Up and attem’,” Mic’s distinct voice shouts across the ship, startling you both apart. “We’re almost home!”

You aren’t aware of how long this journey had been for the crew, where they’d come from or with what purpose, but their muffled cheers from below deck tell you it has been long enough.

You, too, couldn’t wait to stand on solid ground.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

693 notes · View notes

kingmagnificoofrosas · 3 months

Note

I have a question to ask our majesty, King Magnífico. Before the interview with Asha. Could you tell us more about the previous interviews? How did they go? What were your observations for rejecting those people?

The only thing I heard was a man crying after his last interview with you. I would like to know more details about that 👀

"Oh dear ...." *sighs deeply* "Unpleasant memories ... but since you asked, I'll answer. Please, have a seat." *gestures to a couch with lots of pillows in different sizes* "I didn't think looking for an apprentice or assistant would go ... hmm ... well- end up in a catastrophe to put it nicely."

“An apprentice?” Amaya’s head falls into a surprised tilt.

“Why, yes! With my kingdom constantly growing, my responsibilities and my work grows as well. This is the perfect timing! And I’ve been thinking about this for quite a while now.”

“It’s just … you’re so very specific about your work.”

“Exactly!” Magnifico says with a snap of his fingers. “If I could find someone who shares my ambitions and goals, is eager to learn from me and help me … just imagine!”

Amaya follows the king's energetic pacing. He would always start to pace when he’d become passionate about something. And this went both ways. He could be very convincing if he wanted to.

“I’m sure there are many willing to work for you, mi rey.”

“Yes, but I’ll have to make sure they’re right for this job.” He stops in his tracks, “I’ll give interviews!” And swiftly turns back around to face the queen. “Give the news. One applicant at a time. Starting today!”

“Today?”

“The sooner the better, don’t you think?” Magnifico chimes as he moves away toward the large set of stairs.

“Where do you want me to take the applicants then?” Amaya asks with a gesture of her hand.

“To my study.”

Her face falls slightly, “all the way up your tower?”

“All the way up my tower.” An amused smirk spreads on the king’s lips as he rests his arms behind his back. “See it as the first test. My assistant would have to walk those stairs every day.”

Amaya gives a little agreeing shrug. “Fine. I will bring the news.”

“Splendid!” Magnifico starts to head upstairs and adds, “Oh, and please tell Dahlia to send me my tea, like always.”

“Yes, mi rey.”

Yes, getting an assistant was a good idea. He’d been longing for someone he could share his passions with for years now. It was almost strange to him, why he hadn’t gotten that idea sooner.

Magnifico enters his study, crosses over to a reflective wall and waves his hand. The glass slides to each side and opens. Light of the early morning sun floods the room and makes the colorful liquids in their glass cases throw dancing rainbows on the stone tiled floor.

His gaze immediately lifts to a little sea of blue balls, hovering at the ceiling, and he smiles.

Warmth spreads in his chest as he watches them. His heart swelling with gladness and contentment.

His people.

His subjects.

He’s successfully kept them safe for over a decade now, and he would make sure it would keep staying this way.

Keep them safe. At all costs. Never let the past repeat.

Suddenly his sensitive hearing picks up a quiet chatter and rips him out of his trance. He almost chuckles to himself about how quickly Amaya found an applicant. Straightening his shoulders, he turns swiftly, ready to meet whoever was now in his study.

Magnifico waits until he hears Amaya close the doors and then enters.

Near the doors stands a young man something between eighteen and twenty-three. A gangly and shy looking thing, but that shouldn’t be a criteria.

The boy’s head turns. For a moment he freezes but then his mouth opens and Magnifico flinches at the squeal erupting like a sudden trumpet call.

“It’s you! It’s really you!” The boy cries, flailing his arms.

“Yes, it’s me.” Magnifico strides down towards the boy.

“I can’t believe it! I’m really here! I’m seeing this! Oh my goodness, I’m such a big fan and-”

“Thank you!” The king chuckles, “I appreciate your excitement. Now, you’re here today bec-”

“Because I’m going to be your assistant!”

“Because I’m looking for an assistant!” Magnifico corrects the boy.

“I know! This is incredible! You’re so awesome! I can’t believe that I’m here and that I’m talking to you and-”

Magnifico watches the boy rambling himself into a frenzy, almost hyperventilating. “That is … really nice! But let’s calm down a little, hm?” He rests his hand on the boy’s shoulder with a warm smile but instead of calming down, a high pitched squeal escapes the boy’s throat.

His eyes widen and his face goes pale. “He touched me!” He squeaks before his eyes roll back in their sockets and he slumps to the ground faster than Magnifico can grab him.

“Oh dear! That was unexpected.” The king dives down to shakes the boy’s shoulders gently. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Fluttering, the eyes of the boy open again. He mumbles something, seemingly disorientated.

“Are you alright?”

The boy meets the king’s concerned face and starts losing it entirely. Magnifico withdraws in bewilderment. He’d witnessed many swoon and faint at his mere appearance but he hadn’t anticipated his first applicant to fall into that category.

For a moment, Magnifico can do nothing but stare. To his relief the doors to his study fly open and Amaya bursts in. Rowan, the chief guard, at her heels.

“Alright Kiddo, let’s go!” The broad man effortlessly plucks the squirming boy off the ground and escorts him out as Magnifico adjusts his bangs and exhales through his lips.

“Oh my …” Amaya saunters over to the king. “Are you ok?”

“Yes … that was … What was that, Amaya?”

“I don’t know!” She shakes her head and joins his stare at the doors, as if the boy would burst back in any moment. “He was so calm when he stepped up!”

Magnifico clears his throat. “Anyway … that was enough for today! Maybe I was too quick with this ... I’ll receive the next applicant no sooner than next week. See to it that you won’t let another lunatic into my study!”

“Yes, mi rey!” Amaya dips down into a slight bow.

He nods, turns and moves back towards the glass wall. Back in the laboratory, he stops in front of one of the tall windows.

“Your tea must be ready.” Amaya adds quietly.

“Thank you.” He doesn’t turn around but keeps his gaze fixated on the horizon - over the teal rooftops to the glittering ocean in the distance.

This was only the first applicant. He tells himself. The next will go better.

☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆

“You’re here today because you want to become my assistant.”

The man, somewhere in his thirties, nods.

“Tell me, why do you think you’re right for the job?”

“Uuuh … I don’t know?”

Magnifico’s smile drops slightly and his brows lift, “You don’t know?”

“My family and friends told me I was just right for the job! And now I’m here.”

“Uh huh.” The king’s brows lift higher, “well then, why does your family and your friends think you’re right for the job?”

The man shrugs his shoulders and Magnifico feels his patience run thin. “Ok, another question!” He pushes himself away from his counter, “what are your strengths? What are you good at?”

“I’m a good listener.”

“Good, what else?”

“I’m nice to people?”

Magnifico inhales, wipes over his face and massages his left temple for a few seconds. “That’s good that you’re nice to others, but there is much more to being my assistant than just being nice and good at listening!”

“Well, I can play flute!”

“You don’t say.” Magnifico’s expression falls into boredom.

“Would you like a demonstration?”

“No, I think we’re done here!”

“Oh, great!” The man chimes, “then I’m back home just ready for lunch! My wife makes wonderful baked potatoes with-”

“Yes, wonderful-” Magnifico quickly guides the man back to the hallway where Amaya waits.

“And her apple pie is outstanding too!”

Amaya’s brows furrow as the man passes her down the stairs without any complaint, happily proceeding to ramble to himself about the meals his wife can cook and if the laundry is already dry. “Uh …” Confused, she lifts her gaze back to the frowning king.

“I asked for an assistant, not a clueless court jester!”

“But he was nice, wasn’t he?”

“How are baked potatoes, apple pies and being able to play flute about to help me with my work?” Magnifico gestures and Amaya snickers.

"You like good meals."

Grumbling, he strides back into his study. “Very funny.”

◇ ~ ◇ ~ ◇

“Oh! Your majesty, it’s such an honor to meet you!”

Magnifico watches the woman in her twenties bow. “Thank you. I assume you know why you’re here?”

“Yes! Of course! Can I see the wishes now?”

“Excuse me?” Magnifico's face falls.

“You do get to see the wishes when you’re brought inside, right?”

“Who told you- One second!” He lifts his hand, “Don’t tell me you only came here in hopes to see the wishes!”

The woman fondles her fingers, “Well, and maybe get one granted too!”

Part of Magnifico aches for the fact this woman only cared for the wishes in the first place, the other is angered. Without another word, he passes the woman and opens the doors to his study, gesturing into the hallway. “You may leave!”

“Do I have the job?” The woman chirps and he has to fight his composure.

“No.” He says monotonously before shutting the doors again.

“The audacity!” Magnifico vents while striding up and down, waving his hands. “Can I see the wishes! Is this all they see in me? A source for favors?”

“They trust you, that’s why they ask you.” Amaya says.

“That’s not the point!” He turns, “You don’t understand how it feels! You’re not in my position! I want my assistant to see eye to eye with me! This is important to me!”

“Mi rey, this has only been the third applicant. More will come. A little more patience.”

“Patience! If every single applicant will end up like that then I won’t get an applicant at all!” Magnifico snaps with a flick of his cape. Then he calms and exhales through his gritted teeth. “I’m in my room. I'll see you at dinner!”

Amaya lets him leave and sighs.

The doors to the kings private chambers fall shut with a loud bang that for sure echoes through half the palace. Groaning Magnifico stomps into the middle and keps pacing. Back and forth and in a few tiny circles.

Why didn't anyone seem to really listen to him? Why did no one ever seem to really understand him? Finding an assistant and apprentice wasn't a decission he'd make lightly.

I must protect my people at all costs! Never again ... never again ... I must not let it happen again!

His shaking hands run through his hair and he paces again.

I need to calm down. Everything is fine. Nothing's happened. I'll find a good assistant. It's in my hands.

His eyes lift outside to the glowing horizon. Sighing tiredly, Magnifico drops onto his bed. Was it really that hard to find someone who'd see things like he did and feel the way he did?

“I’m a quick learner! I’m very ambitious and highly interested in alchemy!”

“Good! Very good!” Magnifico smiles. So far everything has gone well. “Go on!”

The girl nods. “If I don’t know something, I can learn it. I’m also ready to do smaller tasks!”

“Promising. But if you want to become my assistant, I need to be sure that I’m seeing eye to eye with you. And I need to be able to fully trust you!”

“You can, your majesty. That’s the point in having an assistant, no?”

Magnifico considers, then he nods as well. “Come, I want to show you something.”

Excited, the girl follows him into his laboratory and to the wishes. Her eyes widen as she spots the alchemy items around her. “Woah!”

“Normally I don’t bring anyone in here, but I need you to understand why I’m doing what I’m doing so I can-” He stops, “Don’t touch anything!”

The girl, who stands close to one of the glasses filled by some green liquid, quickly pulls her hand back with a sheepish grin and Magnifico shifts his gaze back up to the hovering balls. “The reason I keep the wishes in here is-” He hears glass clink and turns his head over his shoulder once more with a slightly stern pout, “Don’t touch!”

The girl reaches for another glass.

“No.”

Another glass.

“Don’t touch that! That either! Listen, if I tell you not to touch anything, I mean it! Do not touch anything, that’s an order!”

The girl nods energetically. “Yes sir! King Magnifico, sir!”

Magnifico sighs and rolls his eyes. Patience. He reminds himself. Give her a chance, she’s just curious, curiosity is good. “I was saying … Keeping the people of Rosas safe and sound is my highest priority! Everything I do is to make sure that-”

Amaya, who had been on her way to inform the king of a letter from a neighboring kingdom, almost trips at the last step as a loud explosion erupts behind the closed doors of the king's study. Eyes widened, she dives for the handles. Out of the slit between the doors a bluish smoke leaks into the hallway. As she opens the doors, she’s immediately wrapped in a cloud and stumbles back coughing and waving her hands.

Back inside the laboratory, Magnifico stands still as a pillar. His lips are pressed together firmly and one of his eyes twitches. Upon a twirl of his hand, the smoke flees through the open windows. For a few seconds, he closes his eyes and clenches his fists, biting down the anger that slowly bubbled up in his chest like lava in a volcano. After a deep breath, he turns to look at the girl, who still holds two - now empty - glasses. Her hair all poofed up like the tail of an angry cat, her face and clothes dyed blue.

“I’m sorry,” She chirps, “I couldn’t help myself! This liquid sparkled and I really wanted to know what would happen if I mixed it with this purple one …”

Magnifico doesn’t reply. He examines the wish bubbles to make sure they’re fine and then strides towards the girl, taking the glasses from her and placing them back on the counter.

“Am I in trouble now?”

“I told you not to touch anything!” He snaps, “you disregarded my order, endangered not only the wishes but me and yourself as well!”

“I’m really sorry, your majesty!” The girl bows.

Suddenly his posture relaxes and his gaze softens. “It’s ok.”

“Really?” She looks up at him in surprise.

“When I was young, I caused more than one explosion. Mistakes are there to be learned from, I hope you’ll learn from this one.”

“Oh!” The girl relaxes as well, “So I’m not in trouble?”

“No.” Magnifico sighs, “but I assume you already know that I will not take you as my assistant.”

“Yes, of course.” Again the girl bows, “and I’m truly sorry!”

“Apology accepted. Come, I’ll bring you to the doors.”

“Mi rey?” Amaya carefully slips into the study, “What happ- Oh!” clasping her hand in front of her mouth, she tries not to laugh. Magnifico is just as sprinkled in blue as the young girl next to him. One part of his hair hangs loosely down his forehead, the other resembles a lion struck by lightning.

“Don’t say anything!” He grumbles as he shoves the girl towards her, “bring her back down. No more applicants for today!”

Amaya nods. She almost reaches out for the girl's shoulders but pulls back so as not to get her hands blue as well.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

After the last incident, Magnifico didn’t bring anyone into his laboratory and wishroom anymore. The safety of the wishes was too important.

The king leans against his desk, tiredly rubbing over his face. The last few minutes had cost him not only a few of his nerves. The recent applicant, which he’d sent to get some tea, had flooded him with questions about nearly every item in his study. And how was Magnifico to explain magic items he’s kept for over a decade to a boy who knew nothing about it? Or some of his thickest books he’d spent months studying?

The doors to the study open and the young man comes back with a little tray and the highly anticipated tea. A relieved smile spreads on Magnifico’s lips. Oh, how he needed this strong herbal tea now. Nice and hot.

The boy puts the tray down and hands the cup to the king, who eagerly takes it.

“Thank you!” Magnifico replies before taking a sip. Instead of a pleased sigh however, his eyes widen and he spits the liquid back into the cup just as quickly as it had entered his mouth. “This is cold!”

The boy fumbles his fingers nervously, “Really? B-but it was hot when I took it from the kitchen!”

“Are you saying Dahlia gave me cold tea? She’s never once, in the past six years, served me cold tea!”

“Uh … who’s Dahlia?” The boy frowns.

“What?” Magnifico's brows draw together in confusion, “I told you to go and get me tea. And that tea comes from the kitchen and Dahlia Lee is my royal baker! She’s responsible for making my tea, so if she didn’t give you the tea, who did?”

“I did?” The boy scratches his neck, “I thought I was supposed to make the tea myself.”

Now the whole situation makes sense to Magnifico and he sighs, putting the cup back onto the tray. No wonder this tea was ice cold. But, he could throw this little mistake over his shoulder. After all, he knew he was specific with his tea, and it had taken a little bit of trial and error for Dahlia as well to get behind how the king loved his drinks and food.

“I’m sorry the tea wasn’t to your liking, your majesty.” The boy says and Magnifico snickers.

“Oh, don’t worry. Just bring me a new one. And please,” He hands the boy the tray, “go and ask Dahlia to make it. Herbal blend number three. She’ll know.”

The boy nods and hurries to the doors.

“And if you’re at it, let her give you some lemon tarts. The ones with whipped cream!”

“Yes, sir!” The boy disappears.

Inhaling deeply, Magnifico makes one of the books from his shelf float to him. He opens it and starts reading mindlessly. Once in a while, he twirls his index finger and the feather pen starts writing some notes simultaneously.

After a while, the doors open again and Magnifico turns his attention from the book to the applicant, who carries the tray with cake and tea across the room.

“Finally!” With a graceful movement of his hand, the book floats back into the shelf.

The boy gasps in wonder and surprise. One second of his attention moved from watching his steps was enough to make him stumble over his own feet and trip. The tray flies out of his hands and tea and cake land right on the king's chest, rather than on the desk next to him.

Magnifico flinches, and the boy's face falls in horror.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to- I’m really ... I didn’t-”

“Yes … obviously!” Magnifico does his best to swipe off some of the cake from his clothes.

Too clumsy. He couldn’t allow someone like that to become his assistant. The job was too important and if someone became careless the moment he saw magic, he had the potential to be a danger.

“May I help you …” The young man takes a few steps closer but Magnifico lifts his hand.

“No. You may leave!”

“But-”

“I do have another applicant waiting.” Magnifico walks to the doors and opens them.

Amaya, who already stands ready at the railing cringes at the soaked, cake smeared chest of the king.

“Bring Asha to my study and tell her to wait a little. I’m ready in a few minutes.”

“Yes, mi rey.” Amaya sighs and beckons the young man to follow her. “Alright, come on. All is well! Don’t worry about it! It happens to the best of us”

Amaya gives one last look over her shoulder as she nears the kitchen and finds the young man has stumbled.

“Ay … are you alright?”

The boy whimpers but rises to his feet again.

Shaking her head, she straightens her shoulders and enters the kitchen, where she is greeted by a cloud of flour. Amused, she watches how the group of teenagers that had, by now, gathered in Dahlia's space, hurry in a line to bow.

“Asha, the king is ready for you.”

“Now? Am I late?”

“You’re fine!” Amaya says calmingly. “The last interview-”

“It was a disaster!” The last applicant wails as he hurries past the kitchen. Apparently he’d managed to get down the stairs without falling another time.

“Finished early ...”

"You see now? And Noah O'Nail has always been melodramatic." *takes a sip of tea* "What? Yes, of course I know all the names!" ....

"Honestly, the saddest thing about his failed interview was that Dahlia's wonderful tea and cake was wasted ... she puts so much effort in everything she makes and it's truly a shame that I didn't get to eat the lemon tarts." ....

"You never had them before? Oh, that should change! You're not allergic to lemons, are you? Or milk? Anyway .... I hope this answered you questions." *leans back*

#king magnifico #anon answered #ask to magnifico

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spanishroyals · 7 months

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October 7th, 2023: Princess Leonor's Oath of Allegiance to the Flag

The new cadets at the General Academy of Zaragoza will take the Oath to the Flag on Saturday, the 7th of October.

The Oath to the Flag is the most significant event in military life, when the cadets kiss the flag and pledge to defend Spain, even at the expense of their own life.

Princess Leonor will take the Oath with the 411 new cadets, unlike her father, for whom a special ceremony was held at the same General Military Academy of Zaragoza in 1985. Wearing the gala uniform, the General Director of the Academy will ask them the following, to which the new cadets will answer in unision "Yes, we do swear it":

“¡Caballeros y Damas Alféreces Cadetes, Cadetes y Alumnos! ¿Juráis por Dios o prometéis por vuestra conciencia y honor cumplir fielmente vuestras obligaciones militares, guardar y hacer guardar la Constitución como norma fundamental del Estado, obedecer y respetar al Rey y a vuestros jefes, no abandonarlos nunca y, si preciso fuera, entregar vuestra vida en defensa de España?”

(“Gentlemen and Ladies Ensigns Cadets, Cadets and Students! Do you swear by God or do you promise by your conscience and honor to faithfully fulfill your military obligations, to keep and ensure that the Constitution is kept as a fundamental norm of the State, to obey and respect the King and your leaders, to never abandon them and, if necessary, to give your life in defense of Spain?”)

The King and Queen will preside over the Oath of Allegiance and Princess Leonor will be the first cadet to kiss the flag. His Majesty and the director of the Academy will deliver a speech. Each cadet can invite up to six guests and it is not known yet if any other member of the Princess family will attend the ceremony (It has been confirmed that her sister will remain at school in Wales and won't be able to attend)

#spanish royal family #princess leonor #military #military education #bourbon

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gcthvile · 3 months

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Spider-boy, King of Thieves.

summary: the lines blur as rei stark, the king of thieves, and his archenemy, peter parker or spider-man, join forces against a new threat. their alliance sparks forbidden desires challenging longtime roles. as loyalties shift amid the shadows of a power struggle, will a deception unravel or ignite something far more dangerous in the city that never sleeps?

couple: rei stark (oc) x peter parker

warnings: slightly suggestive content towards the end

fandom: marvel

the streets of new york echoed with the sounds of conflict once more. web and repulsor blasts lit up the night as the familiar figures of spideran and the king danced their waltz of evasion and attack.

"giving up yet, your highness?" taunted spider-man as he flipped out of the way of a repulsor beam.

rei chuckled darkly as his armor hovered nearby. "not a chance, bug. i've only just begun!"

they launched back into the fray, exchanging blows both physical and verbal. over time, their fights had fallen into a practiced ritual - testing skills and wits without intent to seriously harm. the adrenaline rush and challenge was what kept drawing them together, time and again.

tonight, it seemed their dance was drawing to a close once peter disarmed rei with a well-placed web shot. "nice try, stark. i'd say your little heist attempt is a failure."

rei scowled up at him from the ground, but it lacked venom. a glint of amusement shone in his eyes. "you win this round, bug. though I'll be back to try again, so don't get too comfortable."

peter smirked behind his mask. "i look forward to it, your majesty." he shot a web and swung off into the night.

their little games were becoming dangerously entertaining. but neither could have predicted the high stakes clash just over the horizon that would force them to work as a team. and uncover hidden dynamics neither expected...

rumblings of unrest had been stirring in the underbelly of the city for weeks. a new power was rising, one far more ruthless and reckless than even the king. at first, it was little things - businesses "sold" under duress, territories quietly seized.

but then the corpses started appearing, bearing signs of savage brutality. anyone who dared resist this mysterious new force met grisly ends. word on the streets hinted at a shadow organization flooding the streets with highly dangerous weapons.

for rei, it represented the first real threat to his authority since taking the throne. spies reported this new gang, led by a man only known as vulture, aimed to topple all established powers to rule unchallenged through fear.

peter, meanwhile, began encountering vulture's weapons during nightly patrols. powerful, unregulated explosives and firearms unlike anything he'd seen before. bodies left in his wake told of a viciousness that made even seasoned criminals blanch.

both started piecing the clues together. they realized this was bigger than a simple turf war, and neither could hope to defeat such a relentless enemy acting alone. for the sake of the city, a temporary alliance may be the only way to ensure its survival...and theirs.

but first, they'd need to overcome their pride and distrust. a meeting would need to be arranged, despite the personal animosity between them. the fate of new york demanded it - if they didn't unite to stop vulture, he would destroy them all.

"to what do i owe the displeasure, spider-man?" rei drawled as peter swung into the deserted warehouse.

peter pushed back his growing annoyance. this was important. "we need to talk, stark. there's a new threat-"

"so I've heard," interrupted rei lazily from where he lounged. "this vulture seems to be moving in on my operations. quite rude of him, really."

"this is serious," insisted peter. "he's already killed dozens. we can't keep butting heads with each other if he means to destroy everything."

rei inspected his nails disinterestedly. "and why should I care what happens to you and this city? as long as my empire remains intact, what do I owe these people?"

peter balled his fists, struggling to remain calm. "we both know you don't really mean that. deep down you do have a code, as twisted as it is." he took a slow breath. "we need to team up, like it or not. It's our only chance."

rei arched a sculpted brow, finally deigning to look at him fully. "work with the itsy bitsy spider? I think not. give me one good reason I shouldn't leave you for the vultures, hmm?"

"because together we stand a chance," said peter, meeting that flinty gaze steadily. "but divided, we both fall. your call, stark. what's it going to be - ally or enemy?"

rei tapped his chin thoughtfully, making a show of considering peter's proposal.

"you make a fair point, as loathe as I am to admit it," he conceded at last. "very well, it seems we have no other choice. an alliance - for now."

"wonderful," said peter dryly. "now what's our next move against vulture?"

"patience, bug. strategizing takes time, not that a simpleton like you would understand." rei smirked, earning a glare. "vulture has been frustratingly elusive so far. we'll need to draw him out."

"any ideas how?" challenged peter.

a wicked gleam entered rei's eyes. "as a matter of fact, I believe I have the perfect bait...you."

peter blinked in surprise. "me? why would he be interested in-"

"you're the lone thorn in his side so far, spider. taking you out of the picture would clear a major obstacle." rei circled lazily, scanning leter up and down in a way that made him feel distinctly prey-like.

"and how do you propose using me as bait, exactly?" asked peter suspiciously.

rei's smile was all sharp teeth. "leave the details to me, bugaboo. all you need to do is play your part when the time comes. unless you'd rather I find...alternative motivation?"

peter repressed a shiver. working with rei stark was sure to be a dangerous game indeed.

the time for planning had passed. rei's elaborate scheme was primed, and now it was time for peter to play his part as bait.

"you're sure this will work?" asked peter, not for the first time. a lingering shred of self-preservation made him hesitant.

rei rolled his eyes as he fitted a tracer to peter's suit. "for the last time, yes. now stop fidgeting." his touch lingered on peter's hip, smirking at the sharp inhale it drew.

peter scowled, slapping his hand away. "focus, stark."

"oh, i am." rei's gaze gleamed with intention as he stepped back. "ready when you are, bug. go make yourself a tantalizing target for our feathered friend."

with an uneasy glance at rei, peter swung off into the dusk. he wasn't sure which role made him more nervous - bait, or whatever game rei seemed determined to drag him into. pushing those thoughts aside, he started stirring up trouble, making himself a noisy target.

it didn't take long before he sensed eyes upon him. a looming figure swooped down and attacks rained - but these he barely had to dodge. vulture had taken the bait, and rei was no doubt tracking their movement.

sure enough, when peter faked capture to lure vulture to a secluded spot, rei was waiting with weapons primed. their unlikely alliance sprang into coordinated attack, catching vulture utterly off guard between spider and thief.

in minutes, the fearsome villain lay defeated at their feet. peter grinned at rei in flushed triumph, surprised by how natural their teamwork had felt. but the king of thieves seemed far more interested in claiming his reward...

rei stepped closer to peter, a triumphant smirk curving his lips. "well done, spider. it seems our partnership was fruitful after all."

"yeah, i suppose teaming up wasn't so bad." peter felt a nervous flutter as rei's hand came up to grasp his arm. "so...i guess our business is concluded?"

"concluded?" rei laughed softly. "sweetheart, the night is young. and I believe a reward is in order for my invaluable bait."

before peter could react, rei tugged him into a kiss. his lips were firm yet surprisingly gentle against peter's astonished mouth. electric heat shot through peter's veins as he kissed back without thinking.

when they parted, peter stared wide-eyed. "rei, i...we can't. you're a criminal, i'm a hero."

rei only smiled wickedly. "and yet, did we not just work marvelously as a team? your morals seem rather flexible when it suits you, little spider." He nuzzled peter's jaw, drawing a shiver.

"maybe..." peter wavered, torn between duty and the undeniable spark between them. could he allow himself this, even if just for one night? rei made a compelling case, as always.

rei sensed his surrender. "come home with me, sweetheart. i'll show you pleasures unlike any good girl or boy could offer." his voice dropped to a sinful purr. "let's see how far that flexibility can take you..."

against all better judgment, peter found himself saying "okay." just for one night...

what began as a one night encounter blossomed into something deeper for peter and rei against all odds. somehow, their partnership in defeating vulture had unlocked an undeniable connection between them.

where once they were enemies, now they fell into an intricate dance - fighting crime during the day as their alter egos, only to come together under cover of darkness in heated embraces. rei continued his schemes, but turned his ambition towards less harmful targets at peter's insistence.

their relationship defied definition. they were allies in some ways, antagonists in others, and something altogether softer and needier when alone. rei's lust for challenge and thrill now extended to pleasing peter as much as himself.

peter knew he should end this dance with the king of thieves. but there was solace and pleasure in rei's arms unlike anything he found elsewhere. and for all his notorious deeds, rei proved fiercely devoted and protective of what was his behind closed doors.

somehow, against every expectation, their partnership worked. they pushed and challenged one another in turn, inspiring each to explore grey areas of their natures neither knew existed. new york's protector and its most cunning criminal formed an unlikely balance.

and so the dance continued between spider-man and his king, weaving a delicate equilibrium through the streets of their city by night while keeping up appearances as adversaries by day. their relationship survived through want and compromise - a testament to what could emerge when unexpected pieces aligned.

there we go, hope you'll like it!

@jackiequick @missstrawbs2001 @blueboirick @meiramel @cherrysft

#oc post #oc rp #oc rpg #marvel #marvel roleplay #marvel oc #marvel x oc #spider man #peter parker x oc

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clumsyartish · 9 months

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OMG IT'S OUT, IT'S OUT IT'S OUT!! Yes I watched it immediately after it came out in the middle of the night and I'll have to be up in like 4 hours but here it is.. My favorite

Rwrb quotes THAT MADE IT!! (And movie-only moments I'm still dying 4)

PS: DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT ANY SPOILERS (everything is out of context tho)

"Yes and I can assure you that making it was one of the most depressing moments of my career"

(Alex, it's good to see you... Sober) -OMG HENRY SLAY

"HRH PRINCE DICKHEAD💩"

"but we were ever so careful dear"

The turkey /cornbread knows my sins Henry [sort of]

"he's named after Bowie"

"Do you ever wonder who you'd be if you were some anonymous person in the world?... You're as thick as it gets"

(I totaly... Privately called that)

"here's what we're gonna do... You're gonna stay atleast 500 feet away from me..."

"As gay as a maypole"

(I have no idea what a maypole is... Are they known for their homosexual tendencies?)

(there's two things I've been dying to ask you)

(Who says make love anymore? Are we gonna like... Listen to Lana del Rey while we do it?)

[Alex faceplant on the bed after the Texas montage, Cuz lmao same]

(and I told my sistaaah... She was really happy for us... Tihi)

"everytime I see you it takes another year off of my life"

(we're gonna need some pizza)

"you need to figure out if you feel forever about him"

(dad what is this music? It's so not the vibe)

[ALEX READING ONE LAST STOP OMFG]

"please, have a little more faith in your old man"

"sometimes you just gotta jump, hope you're not standing on a cliff"

(I seriously doubt that x2)

(it's like there's a rope attached to my chest and.... *aaaaaaah*)

[I'm sorry, I know it's really emotional and all but the way Alex is just standing right up like 🧍‍♂️ while Henry swims away had me laughing to tears]

"if you want me to leave you'll have to tell me to leave" {aaaaaaahh}

(The dancing... THE FUCKING DANCING)

(WHEN THEY WRITE THE HISTORY OF MY LIFE I WANT IT TO INCLUDE YOU. And my LOVE FOR YOU!!)

"HISTORY, HUH?

BET WE COULD MAKE SOME"

(and I'm not gonna get any work done until you let these lovesick homosexuals on the phone with one another)

((hurry, please)I'll break the sound barrier for you)

(I HAVE, read your emails HENRY!)[I'm sorry I can't bahaha]

(Beca-Beca-Because)

(homosexssssiual)

(I think that's up for debate)

(Oh shut up your majesty)

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #red white and royal blue movie #rwrb movie #rwrb spoilers #rwrb quotes #rwrb movie quotes #red white and royal blue quotes #I'M NOT OKAY #one last stop #ALEX IS READING ONE LAST STOP #aaaaaaaah #yes I bought prime only for this one movie #i want to have it forever #what to doooooo

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pascaloverx · 2 months

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Forbidden Romance

Summary: You are in love with Prince Thor. He will soon be King and is hosting a ball between Kingdoms so he can find his future bride. Unfortunately, the Kingdom of Asgard is not ready to accept the Chief of the Royal Guard as the new Queen.

Warnings: inappropriate language, use of violence and adult content in the future of fanfic. some characters belong to the Marvel universe and others were created by the author.

chapter two chapter four

Chapter Three

Cursed be Asgard, cursed be Thor, Odin, and all who came before them. You think as soon as you feel your breath grow heavy, thanks to the tight dress you're being forced to wear. Whoever is responsible for you wearing this damn dress will pay.

"My dear, I knew you would look beautiful in this dress. Seeing you tonight, all dressed up for your first formal ball, is like seeing my own daughter." Queen Frigga says as soon as you descend the stairs to the main hall of Asgard's castle. You smile, thinking that she always wanted you to get closer to the royal family, hoping that maybe you could straighten out Loki. To her misfortune, the son who captured your heart was precisely the one who shouldn't have.

"Your Majesty, I believe my attire is inappropriate for my role in this realm. I don't want to be ungrateful, but I am the Chief of the Royal Guard, not…" You speak to the Queen Frigga as you observe the proceedings within the official hall, nobles are dancing and gossiping everywhere. Thor keeps staring at you, even though this ball is about him finding the new queen.

"In the world we live in, no one can afford to be just one thing. You are as much the Chief of the Royal Guard as you are a beautiful woman deserving of the great chance to find a marriage. In fact, a marriage almost as important as that of the Future King. Your purpose, Y/N, is much greater than you imagine." Queen Frigga speaks mysteriously, lightly touching your shoulder before moving towards the other guests at the ball.

As you look ahead, Thor is talking to the Princess of the Kingdom of Elvok, Jane Foster. He seems interested in her. His eyes seem incredibly focused on what she's doing, as if they're following the sway of her dress as they dance almost in front of you. And you had already anticipated that it would be like this.

"You should dance too. Perhaps in the company of a certain Prince Steve, who may or may not have a proposal for you." Steve says behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and you look at him angrily.

"You must be responsible for me being dressed like this, aren't you?" You would kill him if you could. He seems to find it amusing as he puts his hand in front of you and guides you to where everyone is dancing with their partners. He deliberately positions himself close to where Thor was dancing with Jane.

"Allow me to say that you look stunning. But yes, I am responsible for you wearing a dress now. In fact, I needed to check if you would be willing." Steve says enigmatically as he guides you in a dance that seems to attract everyone's attention. It must be because you've never been seen in such an informal context before, wearing a dress and dancing with a prince.

"Willing to what?" You ask curiously, trying not to think about what the rest of the hall is doing. Now your complete attention is on your dance with Steve.

"To rule the people of Kyrax with me. Side by side. As my…" Prince Steve just suggested that you become Queen?

"And what about tradition?" You ask as you try to keep up with the dance rhythm, without stumbling. It's obvious that you would like to be the damn Queen. But not Steve's. Not of Kyrax.

"Kyrax wants a Queen with a firm hand who knows how to lead. I want a strong partner. You led Asgard like no one else, no realm that tried to attack Asgard succeeded. Personally, I think Thor should marry you. Since he clearly feels something for you and you would be a perfect Queen. But tough luck for him. I've already proposed this to King Odin." You then stop dancing, looking surprised at Steve.

"Can I think about it, given the fact that you're indirectly asking for my hand in marriage, right?" You ask almost in a whisper. There's a certain dread in the idea of being found out that you've been proposed to.

"You can, and know that I won't do any harm to Asgard if you refuse. Take it for what it is. A man asking you to be his wife." Steve says, ending the dance officially and stepping away. Your eyes scan the hall, searching for Thor. Deep down in your heart, you want to tell him about this and allow yourself to be vulnerable. But he's gone.

"He disappeared with Princess Jane. They've been gone together for a few minutes now. Dad is happy about it; maybe they'll manage to get married tonight. Actually, two weddings. I can't believe you managed to capture the Future Kings of two realms." Loki says, startling you, as he lightly takes hold of your waist to guide you into a new dance. You're too nervous to react to the provocation, so you sigh.

"Let's say I want to know where your brother is specifically, would you take me there?" You ask near Loki's ear, and he firmly holds your hand, guiding you close to Thor's room. That son of a bitch, did he take the princess to his room?

"I'd love to see the show, but someone has to distract the great King Odin. I'll let you deal with your little boyfriend. At least try to cause some damage, to him of course." Loki says, disappearing shortly after, all smiles.

You then gently knock on the door in the way you do when you want to alert Thor that you're about to enter. You then gently knock on the door in the way you do when you want to alert Thor that you're about to enter. You hear noises coming from inside the room and decide to wait not too far away. Jane discreetly exits Thor's room, heading towards the nobles. And then you feel humiliation. Feeling jealous of Thor wouldn't make you better. Currently, the best thing for you is to accept Steve's proposal and forget about Thor and Asgard.

"We need to talk, dove." Thor says, holding your waist and pulling you into the room. Now it seems you're going to have a relationship discussion, and you're not ready for it.

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queentala · 1 year

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No hush Ur amazing also oops 😭 I totally thought u wrote guys my age for a good sec anyways😂, here’s a situation i dreamt up for the whole Yandere Gavriel thing Long story short he's been obsessed with you since he saw you on Aedions arm at a ball thrown by none other than her Majesty Aelin to celebrate their victory over the valg

he would abuse his easy access to your rooms in a deranged attempt to learn everything about you

he was on edge around you to the point you thought he disliked you eventually relaxing when he realized you and Aedion were simply friends

he felt his control slipping like blood on the dungeons harsh stone floors after seeing ur underthings thrown haphazardly around your bedchambers

eventually he couldn’t contain himself slipping into your room in the dead of night his face inches from yours as he took your pink silk underwear and wrapped it around his length trying his hardest to imagine it was you

you swore you heard growls following you around whenever you left the castles secure walls to explore the markets

I was also imaging y/n training with the young guards and Gavriel losing his shit over their pathetic attempts at flirting and him doing something idk also getting chased through the woods would be really cool because their relationship is giving me Beauty and the Beast energy ✨but these are all just long ass suggestions whatever you do will be cool asf but pretty please 🥺can they have a chase through the woods 🧚scene my uterus would be utterly destroyed 🥵🌸🥵

ps whats ur favorite song at the moment?

mines nectar of the gods by lana del rey

O ma faking god, GAVRIEL MASTURBATING WITH YOUR LACE!!! That is AMAZING! Love it 💥l o v e i t

And no, because imagine:

Gavriel and the cadre are on a war, burning kingdoms for Maeve and this shit. And you happen to be one of the victims whose city was burned. So as soon as you see enemy soldiers, you run.

But then Gavriel sees you. And he just falls, in that exact moment deciding you're the one for him. He chases after you, not knowing your name, not knowing anything about you at all, just that he wants, NEEDS, you.

You hear the footsteps, lungs burning as you ran as fast as you can. But it was not enough.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into harn chest as you both stop suddenly. You're panting more from fear now than exhaustion, but Gavriel only caresses your cheek gently, wiping the tear that escaped your eye without you knowledge.

"Shh, now angel. You're not in danger anymore. Not with me. I'll take care of you from now on, and no one will ever touch you again."

....

It's the most perfect thing I've ever come up with. I just know the moment I write this, I will become a god.

Ah, and my favorite song. It's kinda impossible for me to choose. Right now I'm in love with Work Song from Hozier, but my all time fav are Meet Me in The Woods, by Lord Huron, and Way Down We Go by Kaleo

#gavriel x reader #gavriel #throne of glass

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piristephes · 1 year

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Ge, mother of all, approached the Gods Asking them in a rumbling tremor "O white-armed Hera, daughter of Rhea, do you take as your husband the mighty and young Zeus, son of Kronos, the Titan-King?" The Goddess moved her head in accord, a smile shared with her God most beloved An eternity in a bond, a sollid conection formed. Her voice, as a singing cuckoo, filled the heavens with Certainty and majesty, her pure regality. "I do"

portuguese:

Gê, Mãe de Todos, aproximou-se dos Deuses Perguntando-lhes em um tremor estrondoso "Ó Hera bracinívea, filha de Réia, você toma como seu marido o poderoso e jovem Zeus, filho de Cronos, o Titã-Rei?" A Deusa moveu a cabeça de acordo, um sorriso compartilhado dela com o Deus mais amado Uma eternidade em um vínculo, uma conexão sólida formada. Sua voz, como um cuco cantando, encheu os céus com Certeza e majestade, sua pura realeza. "Eu aceito"

#theogamia #hieros gamos #hera #devotional text #zeus #helpol #hellenic polytheism

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merakiui · 1 year

Note

May we see the songs on your Azul simp playlist? Pretty please 🙏

Yes, of course! The playlist consists of songs that I think fit Azul's overall character/vibe, so I hope it can be an enjoyable list.

✧ poor unfortunate souls - lollia

✧ onion boy - isaac dunbar

✧ i know - cut capers

✧ xs - rina sawayama

✧ sibyl - wotaku

✧ mafia - wotaku

✧ your love (déjà vu) - glass animals

✧ life itself - glass animals

✧ space ghost coast to coast - glass animals

✧ money - ayla d'lyla

✧ life could be sweet - ayla d'lyla & miss madeline

✧ doin' time - lana del rey

✧ bang! - ajr

✧ boy in the bubble - alec benjamin

✧ mr. saxobeat - alexandra stan

✧ devil i know - allie x

✧ casanova - allie x

✧ simon says - allie x

✧ old habits die hard - allie x

✧ bitch - allie x

✧ sad girlz luv money - amaarae & kali uchis

✧ trouble - annella

✧ 7 rings - ariana grande

✧ grrrls - aviva

✧ casino - azari

✧ shadow shadow - azari

✧ beatdown - baby boys

✧ enemy fire - bea miller

✧ find an island - benee

✧ snail - benee

✧ supalonely - benee

✧ dangerous - big data

✧ chateau - blackbear

✧ make daddy proud - blackbear

✧ be around - blooom

✧ own me - bülow

✧ black madonna - cage the elephant

✧ social cues - cage the elephant

✧ i like it - cardi b, bad bunny, & j balvin

✧ she wants me dead - cazzette & aronchupa

✧ picky - chanmina

✧ why do you love me - charlotte lawrence

✧ ohmami - chase atlantic

✧ swim - chase atlantic

✧ tidal wave - chase atlantic

✧ paint it, black - ciara

✧ solo - clean bandit

✧ r.i.p. gossip sea - cosmo

✧ heart afire - defqwop

✧ casino royale - derivakat

✧ lost in paradise - dj-jo remix

✧ koala - grady

✧ bocca della verità - hiiragi kirai

✧ autophagy - hiiragi kirai

✧ love ka? - hiiragi kirai

✧ razzmatazz - i don't know how but they found me

✧ hat trick - jonathan thulin

✧ king - kanaria

✧ poison berry - kuraiinu

✧ maybe, i'm afraid - lovelytheband

✧ waste - lovelytheband

✧ loneliness for love - lovelytheband

✧ genius - lsd

✧ sex money feelings die - lykke li

✧ hip - mamamoo

✧ oh no! - marina

✧ cry baby - melanie martinez

✧ copy cat - melanie martinez

✧ shut up - mia rodriguez

✧ feeling good - michael bublé

✧ come dance with me - michael bublé

✧ loser - neoni

✧ i~ya i~ya i~ya - neru

✧ yesman - nilfruits

✧ traffic jam - nilfruits

✧ club = majesty - nyanyannya

✧ emperor's new clothes - panic! at the disco

✧ money - poppy

✧ friends - raye

✧ mr. heartache - sekai no owari

✧ soul 4 sale - simon curtis

✧ villain - stella jang

✧ jack pot sad girl - syudou

✧ midnight parade - taisei miyakawa

✧ kirai kirai jigahidai! - takeaki wada

✧ trash and trash! - takeaki wada

✧ junky night town orchestra - 3

✧ the motto - tiësto & ava max

✧ stress fish - tophamhat-kyo

✧ mister jewel box - tophamhat-kyo

✧ kruel kreator - tophamhat-kyo

✧ everything black - unlike pluto

✧ revenge, and a little more - unlike pluto

✧ clown - updog

✧ people i don't like - upsahl

✧ phony - tsumiki

✧ lead your partner - tao tsuchiya

✧ money, money, money - abba

✧ oroka na orca - uratanuki

✧ wolf in sheep's clothing - set it off

✧ the dream granter - vane lily

✧ phantom swing - rigël theatre

✧ breathe (brklyn remix) - mako

✧ mirror - wakakun

✧ big balling - lil hero

✧ sea castle - purity ring

✧ kirari - fujii kaze

✧ shinunoga e-wa - fujii kaze

✧ mood - dpr ian

✧ so beautiful - dpr ian

✧ mr. insanity - dpr ian

✧ nerves - dpr ian

✧ no blueberries - dpr ian

✧ yumekui shirokuro baku - nem (the trio cover + the mv = perfection)

#twisted chit chat #i'm surprised the top playlist isn't the playlist i made for azul thought four #i have listened to it so many times while writing that thought #which i began in april-may #but my most listened to artist was chase atlantic so that explains a lot LOL

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izzydrawsforfun · 2 years

Text

Alt ZaDr Week!! Day 05 - Filth

Sexy Zim meets Sexy Dib. What they gonna do? Be sexy together of course!!!! While their respective partners are confused and arguing if they should feel jealousy or enjoy the sexyness

For the last day of @alt-zadr-b1tch3z , @reynaruina and I decided to collab on a full on big piece!! ❤💕❤💕❤💕❤💕 it's a sexy theme so we pick our sexy boys uwu

Thanks a lot for this bby!!!! Still drooling over them 😩👌

#and y'all shall drool too #my art #iz #zadr #zim #invader zim #dib membrane #dib #college au!zim #twink dib au #twink dib #collab #friend's art #Your Majesty Rey <3 #GRRRR BARK BARK BARK GRRRR AWOOGA

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witchhunter · 9 months

Text

I was tagged by @ga4b @faroffpromise and @daveslutstaine (sorry i took so long)

Shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist and post the first 10 songs you really like, each by a different artist. Then tag 10 people to do the same thing.

On repeat:

1. Half sister - Protomartyr

2. Race for the prize - The Flaming Lips

3. Too little too late - Metric

4. Mannequin - Wire

5. Florida kilos - Lana Del Rey

6. Gold star for robot boy - Guided By Voices

7. Hallow - Drab Majesty

8. Dedicated to Bobby Jameson - Ariel Pink

9. Die stumme Ursel - Sodom

10. Green fingers - Siouxsie and the Banshees

Favorite songs:

1. Screen man - Failure

2. In the afternoon - MGMT

3. Lay it on the line - Grim Reaper

4. Eternal dark - Picture

5. Stormy - Wipers

6. Death trap - Destruction

7. Moonbeam rider - Voivod

8. Transmission - Joy division

9. Ashtray petting zoo - Joyce Manor

10. Left of the dial - The Replacements

Tagging: @geckoafterlife @jotaro-spengler @falsegrind @slaughterlmao @segwaystevens @twymyn99 @messiahmarcolin @cliffburton @wildnobility @stargraev

#tagged

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ayadoesart42 · 2 years

Note

Hello~ I saw you needed hc prompts so here's one I think abt a lot:

What pet names would the bois give their S/Os? I like to think Hitoya would his partner 'angel' 😚

Awe! This was really cute

I’m personally not very into pet names so I have minimal experience in what all of them are but here’s my attempt:

Ichiro- Probably just the basic “baby”, “babe”, “honey”, as well as an anime nick name specifically for that person

Jiro- Has no higher vocabulary than “babe”

Saburo- Would ironically call all of his online friends “kitten” and you’re getting nothing more out of him

Samatoki- (I actually had this one ready previously) Believes he is to manly for pet names and would only ever quickly mutter “baby” at the beginning or end of some sentences BUT when he’s really horny he just goes off with names you’ve never even heard of

Jyuto- Slowly drawls out “honey” to annoy his s/o whenever he wants something (and ofc a lot more names in bed) his s/o better fuckin call him bunny or we’re going to have a problem

Rio- “what’s a pet name?” (Idk I feel like he would use his s/o name rather than a pet name

Ramuda- Only uses pet names on himself :|

Gentaro- Only medieval terms are allowed with maybe a “darling” on occasion (hehe “your majesty”)

Dice- Basic “baby”, “honey”, and “babe” though he honestly probably wants to be called pet names more than say them

Jakurai- “DEAREST” AND “DARLING” IN THE SWEETEST TONE EVER CHANGE MY MIND

Hifumi- every pet name ever EXCEPT FOR “KITTEN” because Hifumi wants to separate his s/o (Doppo) from his clients

Doppo- Has no energy for pet names except an occasional “honey”

Sasara- Never ever EVER ask him to say pet names because he will never stop calling his s/o things like “parakeet” and “goldfish”

Rosho- “Hun”, “Babe”, “Sweet”, and “pudding”

Rei- Whoo. Okay. Ig I’m doing this. *takes deep breath* “Honey”, “Baby”, “Babe”, “Baby girl”, “hot stuff”, “cutie”, “sweetie”, “sweet”, “girly”, “darling”, “sugar”, “love”, “cupcake”, “princess”, “good looking”, “sexy”, “Fox”, “Foxy”, “Doll”, “kitty”, “pup”, “baby doll”…. Must I go on?

Kuukou- “Dude”, “bro”, and “my man” (this stays true for fem or masc s/o) But if you’re Ichiro, “bitch” and “ballsy bitch” is on that list

Jyushi- “Cutie” and “Baby” and probably when he’s in stage mode “starlight” or “darling of darkness”

Hitoya- “Angel” for sure. But also “honey”, “hun”, and “Sweet”

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jenscx · 9 months

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LOADING… ive

# KEYWORDS ; fluff (f) angst (a)

kim gaeul 김가을

➤ no results found.

ahn yujin 안유진

➤ bet on it (f)

naoi rei 김레이

➤ no results found.

jang wonyoung 장원영

➤ my darling (f) (a) | your majesty (a)

➤ call me back (smau) (a) (f)

kim jiwon 김지원

➤ no results found.

lee hyunseo 이현서 (platonic only)

➤ no results found.

#masterlist #jenscx

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askthepsychic · 2 months

Text

A few moments later, Rey arrives in Canterlot and goes directly to the palace. She lands before the grand doors and addresses the royal guards “sirs, I’m sorry for coming so early in the morning, but I have this past night been gifted with knowledge of the location of a persona of great importance. However, though I know where they are, I don’t know where that location is in this world. I believe the quickest way to find them would be to seek the aid of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.”

The guards nod, one of them saying “understood your highness. They should be partaking of their morning meal at this time. Do you need any guidance to find the dining hall?”

Rey shakes her head “no, thank you. I’ve dined with them before.”

The guards nod, then resume their duties as Rey enters the palace to find the royal sisters. A moment later Rey enters the dining hall, Celestia and Luna blinking at her entrance. Celestia swallows the bite she just took and dabs a napkin at her lips before saying “Rey? What brings you to us this early?”

Rey’s response is simple, but impactful enough that Celestia and Luna are instantly brought to full attention “I know where Vitalia is.”

“WHAT!?”

Rey nods, then proceeds to tell the two of the shared memory dream she experienced the previous night, ending with “after Spike was made to forget who he was and left the throne room with Scorpan, Majesty foretold Tireks four defeats before he imprisoned her in his Rainbow of Darkness. That’s everything I witnessed.” Rey, having tilted her head back and closed her eyes at some point, opens her eyes and looks directly at Celestia and Luna again only to find both of them staring at her. No. Not at her. At her chest? Then she remembers what’s currently resting on her chest. “Um… why are you two staring at the Rainbow of Light?”

Celestia blinks, then looks at Luna before looking back at Rey. “The reason our attention was drawn to the Rainbow of Light, Rey, is because, well, at this point in time, Majesty’s Rainbow of Light and Tirek’s Rainbow of Darkness are actually… one and the same.”

Rey blinks “what? But didn’t Majesty create the Rainbow of Light to challenge Tirek’s Rainbow of Darkness?”

Luna nods “yes, but as you witnessed via shared memory, she couldn’t complete it. When Megan eventually was first brought here, she collected the Rainbow, still incomplete, on her way to challenge Tirek. A struggle ensued, the objective being to claim the Rainbow of Darkness, but it ultimately ended up back in Tirek’s control. It was at that point that Megan recalled her possession of the Rainbow of Light and tried to unleash it to challenge him, but it was as Majesty predicted in the memory you saw. A docile timid thing with no will to fight. Tirek scorned the Rainbow of Light and unleashed the Rainbow of Darkness to try to destroy it, and it was at that point, when hope seemed lost, that the Rainbow of Light completed itself by devouring the Rainbow of Darkness from within. Majesty’s masterpiece was finally complete, and its first act was to banish Tirek for millennia. So you see, Rey, it is as Celestia has said. The two opposing Rainbows became one indomitable force.”

Rey is stunned by this revelation, reaching up to grasp the Rainbow of Light with a new reverence. “Majesty. Vitalia. She’s been with me ever since Megan passed this on to me?”

Celestia nods “based on what you have told us, there is a very good chance of that. But we can find out for certain. The Rainbow has a form of consciousness itself. Release it and let us see what it might say.”

Rey nods, opening the locket. Immediately after the locket is opened, the Rainbow of Light emerges from it, twisting through the air as it searches for a threat. Finding none, it seems to settle down, flying above the three princesses.

Celestia looks upon the Rainbow, reverence in her gaze. “As magnificent as I’d ever imagined, if not more so. But let’s get down to business, shall we. Mighty Rainbow of Light, we have just learned there is a possibility that your creator is trapped within you. Can you confirm?” At this, the Rainbow contorts itself to take the shape of a checkmark. Celestia nods, then looks at Luna. “Luna, you are better at reading spells than I.”

Luna nods “I shall attempt to divine the specifics of the spell trapping her within.” She looks to the Rainbow as her horn begins to glow, the Rainbow doing the same. After a moment, both glows cease as Luna’s expression turns to frustration and anger “it is locked in place via password. We must discover the key phrase if we are to have any hope of releasing her. On top of that our opportunity to do so is rapidly dwindling. We have now spent half the day in this room, and the spell will become eternally set at sundown. We have only a few short hours left before we lose her forever.”

Rey can scarcely believe what she’s hearing. It simply can’t be that bad. “Hours?! We only have hours?! To discern a particular word or set of words that is the key to releasing the Divine of Life from a potential eternal prison?! No! I can’t accept that! Luna, please say you’re exaggerating!”

Luna sighs “I desperately wish I was. Tirek has played all of us who have been searching for her all this time for fools. I… I can see no hope of success in this moment. We have truly lost the Divine of Life.”

Rey glares, tail lashing as she crosses her arms, trying to think of some way to solve this puzzle. “I understand why you’re losing hope, but I’m not ready to give up. I’m almost as smart as mom, I just have to think. … Think? Thought. Psychic. Hmmm. Celestia, Luna, tell me, how many times has Tirek been defeated thus far?”

Celestia blinks “his most recent defeat was the third. His first was against Megan, Luna and I took part in the second, and your mother and her dearest friends were instrumental in the most recent, the third.”

Rey smiles. “So the fourth hasn’t happened yet? Good. That means he still exists here. I have an idea. The person in this world who is most likely to know the hidden password would be the one who set it in place to begin with. I’ll tear it from his mind if I have to. Where is he? It’ll help if I have a direction to search in.”

Luna smiles “last we knew, he was locked away in the deepest depths of Tartarus. Can your psychic powers reach there?”

Rey grins “Luna, I won’t even have to leave this room.” With that, her eyes, then her body begin to glow as she reaches out with her mind.

Deep in the depths of Tartarus, Tirek is lying in his cell when he blinks, then grins “do you think it will be that easy? My mind won’t be that easy to read.”

In the palace dining hall Rey increases her focus, the glow around her intensifying “then I’ll just have to try harder!”

Tirek holds up his hand, watching as it begins to glow while he feels the assault on his mind intensifying. “Not bad. You’re definitely a powerful psychic, whoever you are, but still not good enough.”

Rey increases her focus again, psychic power beginning to create the appearance of waves of energy on her body “give me the password to Majesty’s prison now!”

Tirek feels the psychic assault on his mind go up a notch again and laughs “if this is the best you can do, you should submit to the inevitable. The prison will stay locked, and you will lose your one chance to free her.”

Rey pushes her power to its limit, causing a point on her chest to begin to glow even more brightly than the rest of her. “The password, NOW!”

Tirek chuckles and simply says “no.”

Rey’s anger at Tirek erupts as what looks like a white flame engulfs her body, spreading out from the glowing point on her chest. Celestia and Luna can only gape in awe at what is to be seen when the flame passes.

(Word from the mod, the picture above used Rey’s normal appearance and thus the mewtwo base from https://mewtwoandme.tumblr.com/ is also used. In order to get the image presented above, I ran Rey through an AI art generator a few times and chose the result I liked best.)

In Tartarus, Tirek’s smile falls when he feels a sudden expansion in the power behind the assault on his mind. “What? Where did this come from?!”

Rey, feeling her power increase dramatically, pushes harder “give me the password NOW, Tirek! I’ll tear your mind apart to find it if I have to!”

Tirek groans from the latest increase in the strength of the attack. Worse, he feels fear as he realizes that might have been a small increase due to the new power he can feel from the attacker. Rather than risk the threat made being acted on, he chooses the smart move. The password to Majesty’s prison freely relinquished to the attacker.

In the throne room, Rey blinks, then nods, looking at the Rainbow of Light as the glow around her faded, but doesn’t vanish completely. “MAJESTY BE FREE FOREVERMORE, FOR VITALIA I OPEN THE DOOR!”

The Rainbow of Light flashes before beginning to spin in a circle, streams of light flowing into the center of the circle until it forms a portal. A gasp is heard followed by rapid hoofbeats, and the lost queen of Dream Valley, the long lost Divine of Life, Majesty leaps out of the portal to stand among the three princesses.

Majesty blinks, looking around, then looking at the floor, tapping her hoof on it. “Is… is this real? Please, someone tell me I’m not having another dream! If I must awaken to find it was all a lie one more time, I…”

Celestia strides forward “you are awake, Vitalia. It’s not a dream this time. Welcome back.”

Majesty blinks, then groans, raising her hoof to her head, holding it just under her horn as if she has a sudden headache.

Rey blinks, approaching as her form reverts to her usual appearance “Majesty, are you alright?”

Majesty sighs “my temporal vision is returning in force. I have spent years without it, and now all that I have missed is rushing through me. But… strange. I thought I’d been imprisoned for a shorter time than I am being presented with. What could cause such an increasingly vast irregularity?”

Luna steps forward now “the Rainbow of Light, which swallowed your prison to complete itself, was removed from this space time and lost to a comparably temporally delayed universe. We experienced a great many times the amount of years you experienced. By your reckoning you were imprisoned no more than 50 years. 42 of which you were imprisoned within your own creation. But for us, more than six millennia passed.”

Majesty nods. “I see. That explains it then. Huh?” Tears suddenly start streaming down Majesty’s cheeks. Celestia looks away, as she can guess what event the lost queen has just learned of. Majesty begins trembling in sorrow as she says “Dream Valley… gone?”

“Vitalia!”

Everyone turns to see Hades approaching. Majesty turns and rushes into his embrace, tears still flowing “Hades, please tell me my vision is wrong. My temporal sight is catching up with the present, and I just saw…”

Hades sighs, holding Majesty close “the fall of Dream Valley. I fear your vision is accurate as ever, Vitalia. The pony tribes of Dream Valley began to feud with each other, eventually drawing the attention of wendigos. Though many did escape in the end, Dream Valley was lost, buried in a wendigos curse. I am sorry, Vitalia, but… it is gone.”

Majesty sobs “my descendants. My land. She sent me to try to build a paradise, but now it’s all gone!”

Celestia takes a deep breath, then gains a determined expression and approaches the two Divines “not all, Vitalia. I bid you, please walk to the balcony with me.”

Majesty blinks, looking at Celestia and nodding. The two of them go to the balcony, and Majesty looks out at the city before them. She sees countless ponies and other creatures walking through the streets, and looks at Celestia with a confused expression “I beg your pardon, but what exactly am I meant to see?” Just as she finishes asking that question, her eyes suddenly widen and she turns back to look out over the city, looking around wildly before her eyes settle on a tan unicorn with a pink mane and a cauldron cutie mark. Then she starts looking around again, finding an earth pony foal kicking a soccer ball down the street. A pegasus pushing a cloud to the perfect spot for a midday snooze. Another pony carrying a bag of groceries. And another. Another. More and more. Finally she looks back at Celestia again. “Those ponies. The magic within them. I know it’s source. I… am its source.”

Celestia nods. “The land may be gone, but your descendants are not. More than three quarters of the population of Equestria can trace their lineage back to those you created with the Life magic flowing through you. Majesty, this… is your kingdom.” The crown levitates off Celestia’s head and floats before Majesty.

Majesty blinks, almost reaching out to accept, before her vision begins to show Celestia’s history. The more she sees, the more serene and calm her growing smile gets. Finally, she changes her hoof’s position and pushes the crown back towards Celestia. “No, Celestia, it is yours. Your history is now known to me. The greatness, the wisdom, the… sacrifice. I know you now, and I know without a shadow of a doubt which of us is the better leader. It’s not me. I shall retire the throne and redevote myself to my role as the Divine of Life. I shall begin by helping Hades with the issues regarding reincarnation. In the meantime, you continue to lead the citizens of Equestria to greater prosperity. That is the role you are meant for.”

Celestia smiles and nods, returning the crown to her head. Then she looks at Majesty again after adjusting it to her satisfaction and says “what of your descendants? What shall you do regarding them?”

Majesty sighs, looking back towards the balcony. “You have lead my descendants to unimaginable prosperity, Celestia. I shall be content to see them enjoying it. I do have questions regarding particular individuals though. Given the wisdom you display, I feel confident you can answer. The Moochik?”

Celestia smiles. “Completed his task and left this world alongside the other humanoids. He wanted to explore the worlds they call home, but it is said he promised to return one day when his curiosity is satisfied.”

Majesty nods. “Good. I’m glad that all ended as intended. A story of great triumph that I can’t wait to hear. Moving on. The flutter ponies?”

Celestia sighs “Flutter Valley and the flutter ponies with it succumbed to the same curse that took Dream Valley. It is said that one of the flutter ponies managed to deliver the sun stone to the last caravan to escape the curse, but no creature has ever presented it for safe keeping.”

Majesty nods, “likely wishful thinking then. Still, there could be benefits in either case. Hmm. I shall have to think further on this subject later. I shall now ask after the sea ponies.”

Celestia sighs. “The sea ponies broke ties with the land tribes when the feuding began. They then followed the rivers down to their natural habitat, that which they are named for. The sea. Currently there are cities of sea ponies beneath the ocean. Diplomacy has begun, but it is slow at best, since we land dwellers must wait for them to initiate contact in most cases.”

Majesty nods “at least an effort is being made. Perhaps I might be able to help. So few creatures realize the close relationship between water and life. I could use the ocean currents to send messages, Oceana permitting.”

Celestia nods “please ask as soon as possible. I think we all would like diplomacy to be accelerated. Sea ponies included.”

Majesty nods. Then sighs.

Celestia smiles gently, then nuzzles Majesty comfortingly “you can’t avoid asking about him forever, and the answer may be better than you fear.”

Majesty nods, then takes a deep breath before looking Celestia square in the eyes. “Spike?”

Celestia smiles “by which you mean the great dragon, formerly known as dragon lord Spikoran the Great.” Majesty chuckles at the thought of her son being ruler of the dragons for a time, then gasps and covers her mouth with her hoof at Celestia’s next words. “He remembered.” When Majesty looks up for further confirmation, Celestia nods “he did. And he asked to be informed the moment anything new happened regarding you. He misses his mother.”

Majesty is again teary eyed as she replies “his mother misses him. Please notify him that I shall take the earliest opportunity to go see him.”

Celestia nods “I shall.”

Majesty smiles, then looks at Rey. “You are the one who walked through memory with me, correct?”

Rey nods. “That’s correct Majesty. I hope you don’t mind if I continue to use your mortal name.”

Majesty smiles “it makes no difference to me. I accept either of my names, whichever another prefers to use. Hmm. If I’m recalling correctly, when I looked around after emerging from my prison, you looked different.”

Rey blinks “what? I looked different? How could that be. I don’t think I used transform.”

Celestia goes to stand before Rey “nevertheless, your appearance did change. I’m not sure exactly what happened. I can only say that Luna and I witnessed some sort of metamorphosis. You seemed to grow vastly more powerful than you normally are after said metamorphosis. Now, however, you have returned to your original form.”

Rey hmms. “A metamorphosis that increased my power? That sounds like Pokemon evolution. But there are numerous problems with that theory. The most obvious ones being that Pokemon evolution is usually a permanent change. Along with that, the other obvious issue is that to my knowledge, neither of my progenitors, mew and mewtwo, have the ability to evolve. Mew can use the technique transform as I can, but it’s not even close to being the same thing. I can’t think of any way to explain what you witnessed, but I don’t doubt that you saw what you say you saw. Hmmm.” she shakes her head. “Not a clue. I’ll have to investigate this in depth. But for now, I must confess I’m starving. Figuring out how to help Majesty took so much of my focus that I skipped breakfast and lunch.”

Celestia and Luna blink bemusedly, then turn to look when a rumbling sound comes from Majesty.

“Food? You mean actual real food? Yes please. My divinity born immortality is more than enough to keep me alive, but food is still something I’ve missed.”

The two elder princesses look at each other and smile. “Then a late lunch it is. For now, the rest can wait.”

This is met by a cheer from Rey and Majesty.

#askthepsychicofponyville #ask me anything #ask blog #original character #mlp #rey #Majesty

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