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aphroditesmoon · 8 months

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children of the empire

king!jacaerys valeryon x reader

summary: the tale of the king and the slave.

warnings: slave!reader, infidelity, hurt/comfort, angst, childbirth, grief, death, inspired by paul and chani from dune book series.

A/N: just jace and reader being wholly devoted to eachother

wc: 1.4k

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HE KNEW THE two of you were destined to be together from the moment he laid his eyes on you. After the coronation held for him as King, multiple houses that had changed the course of their loyalty at the last minute had begun to seek the now young King Jacaerys’ favor. And so began the parade of gifts from ornaments, jewels and women were presented. Exotic slaves from colonized lands were brought forth to the king. He had sat on the throne as if it was made just for him. The throne his mother had not been given the privilege to sit on for even a whole year.

By his side, was his once betrothed and now Queen Baela. Their union was celebrated the way their parents would have wanted, and the two tried their hardest to uphold all the traditions and rulings to make worth of the sacrifices and bloodshed in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen.

In everyone’s eyes, the pair was unstoppable, a united front with grudging respect for the other. A pair not only blessed with deserving power, but also with love.

But no one knew what really lied behind closed doors. The King Jacaerys and Queen Baela Targaryen had not loved one another. They might’ve liked each other in a way, back then. But the war and deaths have changed them both forever. They could not find any semblance of romantic attraction or comfort in the other. They had mourned their families in such a similar way, yet somehow still jarringly different. To find intimacy with the other was to face unspoken grief.

Jacaerys had thought that the loveless marriage would be the end of him ever experiencing a pure, tender bond with anyone. But he had seen you in a line of tired looking, plain and pretty girls, and he had sworn he’d seen you in a dream before.

If his mother was alive, she would be cursing him off his head. In fact, sometimes he hears her too. Yelling, and calling him a failure of a son, as he’s holding your thighs open, plunging himself deeper inside of you. An affair had by kings wasn’t uncommon, but he wondered how many of them were of love and not lust. He knew he would love you like his mother loved his father. But no matter how much of him is his mother’s son, he would not let you suffer the same end as his father.

He learned quickly that you weren’t as docile as you looked. Ask the wrong question and you’ll snap back. And yet, you were also not as hostile as you make yourself to be. You scold him like no one dares to do to the King, and you call him names on days he’s being particularly irritating, receiving a rising reaction from his shocked and baffled advisor and guards. But he knew that you were harmless. And you knew that a man like him can take a few jabs. And as much as the insults keep on coming, you advise him like no one does either.

You run your fingers through his hair like you’d give up everything you have to be able to touch him. And he looks up to your standing figure through his mussed-up hair as he kneels down with his arms circling your waist, like no one could ever look to even the greatest of kings.

“You will carry my children.” He had once told you.

The late-night silence where only the wind was able to speak louder than either of you, making anything he was saying sound possible. “Your queen will hold a knife to my throat.” You responded, feeling him pull you closer to his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head. “I would not let any other woman be the mother to my children except you.”

You let out a hoarse laugh that sounded almost too cynical to his liking. “I am not your woman, even if I am your property. Any child you have with me is a child destined for a life of suffering.” Had he not been so tired, he would have presented a stronger case after seeing you argue with much more fire even in such an hour. But instead, he only shook his head hard enough for you to feel his disagreement. “You are not my property.” You hummed with your ear to his heart. “I would be yours if you’ll have me, and I’d let you rob me naked if that be your heart’s desire.” You let out a scoff you always do when you’re finding him ridiculous and drunk. Only soft kings dare to dream, a reminder you bring up constantly to him. All because you knew what usually happens to those kinds of rulers, and even if you wouldn’t say it out loud, you cared for him too much to see him resigned to such a fate.

Three months later, you were with child. Brimmed with joy, Jacaerys had vowed to legalize the babe as soon as it comes out. And even with his queen’s relentless challenging to his title and responsibility, he refuses to send you away. He asks her forgiveness for the disrespect the child’s birth would be to her, but his mind was set.

An illegitimate royal child was not unheard of, and Jacaerys’ fortunate case of being a man helps lessen the cacophony of riots and disagreement within the council. But when it had been confirmed that the child would be legalized and appointed as his heir. How can a scion of the Targaryen family be a bastard made by bastards.

And yet with every voice raised against him, his assurance only becomes stronger. Every drink you take and every meal you eat will be tested first for poison. And every move you make would be supervised and followed by personal guards that were starting to make you regret being with him. 6 months into the pregnancy, you had relented into staying in your chambers, his overprotectiveness had become more obvious. Not even the Queen was granted to visit you, in fear of bad intentions.

His actions had hurt Baela, for she expected him to know better what kind of person she is in terms of morality.

When your water finally broke, he was 20 minutes late. When a guard had run to him in the throne room to announce the birth, he didn’t need to be told twice to get himself off the iron throne, running to you as fast as he could. You had given birth to a set of twins. A girl, and a boy. He had made it to you in the last few seconds before you let out your final breath. You had whispered his name as he squeezes your hand in a fist while apologizing profusely. “I couldn’t have belonged to anyone else, even if I wanted to.” He had cried by your side. You responded with a confession you’ve never uttered aloud, though both of you already knew what it was. You had breathed out so quietly, words only meant for his ears, “I love you.” The lights in his eyes died out the second you were announced deceased.

He sat by your cold body for hours before he could be convinced to let his grip on your dead arms off. He held both of his babes for the first and last time in his arms that day before spending the next 2 days locked and isolated in his chambers. Rhaenyra and Lucerys Targaryen. A storm brewed in the sky of Kings Landing. Wild winds and lightning as devastating as his own heart. The people stayed inside as the weather rips off wooden houses and floods the streets in every corner that is

Baela had tried speaking to him, as gentle as she could, reminding him of his children. But he was non-verbal. And so, she gave up.

On the third day, Rhaena Targaryen had rushed to her Queen sister, screaming in pure terror as she held up a folded and opened envelope of a letter. The doors to the King’s chambers were slammed open, only to find the place empty. The King hadleft. He had exited the castle to the storms.

And in his letter contained his want for his wife to rule in his stead until his daughter Rhaenyra reaches the age of 10 and 8, old enough to be wed to her brother, and then after, she’d take her rightful place as Queen.

A legitimate claim to the throne.

The only other thing written besides his will, was a sentence among the lines, ‘Only a soft king dares to dream. And I am as weak and soft as it can be.’

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon #jace velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #jace targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones #hotd #jacaerys targaryen

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bajingoarts · 6 months

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The Ratigans

Portraits of the Ratigan family members. Read more for all their names and backstories!

FAIR WARNING!! Some of this is very sad. Ratigan turned to a life of crime after a life of great sadness and tragedy...

Large credit to @suzie-guru for basically helping me create them and flesh them out.

Patreon (18+) | Twitter | Blusky

In order from left to right and down:

Seamus Ceannaire Ratigan

Seamus was a Rat of great integrity and pride. He did much in his community to try and uplift the local rat population. He rallied, gave speeches, and organized local marches in order to further the betterment of the Rat populous, often undermined and forgotten by the public at large. He believed in being better than what others thought of them, proving wrong the assumptions that Rats were all shifty, underhanded, feral, and prone to criminal activity. He taught these values to his family throughout his life. He was horribly disabled after protecting his oldest son Padraic, from a bigoted attack instigated by anti-rat sentiment. He was never the same after that. He died a few years after.

Losa Bella Ratigan

Seamus’s “beautiful rose” Losa was a child of both Italian and Irish Rats, and she had excelled in her youth as a popular operatic star. She sang in multiple languages and had even gigged at the English Opera House. She sang at one of the events Seamus spoke at. Each saw what the other excelled at and they fell madly in love. After Seamus was attacked, Losa was forced to support the family on her own. She resorted to petty theft and bartering in order to put food on the table. She survives her husband and most of her children now, and she lives in Ratterton trying hard to keep her husband's legacy alive. She’s highly disappointed at the state of her eldest son and mourns the tragedy of her family, but she remains a steadfast and confident woman.

Padraic Ratigan

The eldest son and most intelligent member of his family. Padraic was the pride and joy of his parents. A testament to the future rats could have with enough hard work and dedication. Padraic was accomplished in math, literature, engineering, and arts at a very young age. Despite losing his father at the age of 15 and endless family tragedy, his intelligence and tireless fight for a better life earned him a prestigious scholarship to Cambridge University. However, after a deadly rampage through the school he left and never returned. After the incident, Padraic went abroad with forged papers, eventually earning his degree as a Professor of Mathematics. He returned to England after years to begin building his criminal empire. After trying to overthrow the English monarchy, Padraic was defeated and placed in jail, where he now currently resides.

Lorcan Ratigan

The third youngest and the second son, Lorcan was all burning passion. He loved a good time and a good toss in the sheets with both lads and lassies. He led his life with his whole heart, unconcerned with what others thought of him. He often acted as the muscle when Padraic, Sorcha, and him got into mischief. Often the one completing all the dirty work neither of them wanted to do. But he was always happy to do so. Though not the smartest in his family by any means, he was unflinchingly loyal to them and to the ones he cared about. He began helping Padraic when he returned to build the criminal empire, moving shipments and scaring anyone who dared go against their family. While working at the docks he met a young debutante mousette. Their whirlwind romance led to an unexpected pregnancy. Lorcan took the fall for a scheme of Ratigan’s and was offered freedom in exchange for information on him. But Lorcan, ever loyal, refused to give up his brother. He was executed for his crimes, leaving his lover alone with their unborn child.

Sorcha Ratigan

The eldest daughter and second oldest child, Sorcha Ratigan is a calm, cool, and beautiful Queen of the Ratigan family. Though just as intelligent as her brother Padraic, there were limited options available to a rat woman. So she devoted herself to her career as a performer, following in their mother’s footsteps. She traveled abroad to Italy to train in their opera houses and spend time with her mother’s family there. Once she returned, she joined Padraic’s empire as a spy and informant. With Sorcha’s wit, confidence, and allure, she was able to handily trick men into giving her whatever she wanted. Money, vacations, and information. After Lorcan’s passing however, she blamed Padraic and left abroad to Italy where she currently resides, living with local artists and performing.

Saoirse Ratigan

The second daughter and fourth child. Saoirse is a firebrand. She has the justice seeking strength of her father and is a devoted civil rights activist. She heads labor unions, suffragette meetings, and protests at unfair legal proceedings for rats. She’s been arrested several times for disturbing the peace and for general unruliness. Her unwavering need to do the right thing has estranged her a bit from her older siblings once they got involved in crime. She believes in trying to do the right thing through uplifting the community, not through dark back alley deals. She currently works in a factory still living with their mother and taking care of her.

Rodrick Ratigan

Affectionately referred to as “Rod” by his family, Rod was always interested in the newly discovered use of electricity. He would experiment with coils and currents whenever he could, though often not aware of how dangerous it was. He might have gone on to school as Padraic did, but a plague fell over Ratterton at the time, taking him far too soon.

Carmella and Ciaran

The twins and youngest of the family. Completely inseparable, they were little mischievous tricksters. The twins were not in the world for very long though. Ratterton lacked proper medicine and trained doctors, so when the plague came and Cairan fell terribly ill there was little the family could do for him. Carmella was never the same after her twin brother passed, and she passed away years later from the same illness. It was said she passed with a smile, happy to be reunited with her twin.

#the great mouse detective #tgmd ocs #ocs #ratigan #padraic ratigan #Ratigan family #head canon #my art #year of the rat #rat #furries #rat furries

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blues824 · 1 year

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How about Female ubuyashiki in the remarried empress.

👩‍🦯A ill noble woman who is known for her heat of gold and motherly figure for most nobes they all call her mother in a respected manner.

🌸Her being there for navier when she is having difficulty with rattrash and sovieshit and calming her down even staying a couple of months in the eastern empire.

👩‍🦯How would everyone react to her slowly dying of her illness but she doesn't care about it she cares more about others than her health and always treats people with respect.

🌸imagine kosiar being her husband and how caring he is about his lovely wife and them already having children because they never know when she dies so her children whoud be there for kosiar when she passes away .

👩‍🦯The children don't have the same illness as their mother so they will have a normal life unlike their mother so kosiar whoud not have to worry about them dying before he does.

🌸How would everyone react to kosiar being a father of twins (spoilers navier get pregnant with twins later in the Nov ) and that the children are absolutely angels like the mother.

👩‍🦯Imagen the twin children of the female ubuyashiki and kosiar hanging around navier and them being more behaved than rattrash and them being loved by everyone.

🌸Imagen rattrash trying to spread rumours about her because she thinks she is a easy target because of her personality and illness only for people to get mad at her.

👩‍🦯Imagen rattrash pushing her and trying to make herself the victim only for people to help her up and ask her if she okay glaring at rattrash and people wanting her to apologise for pushing her even sovieshit can't do anything but to say she needs to apologise.

🌸She has always a person guiding her because of her losing her eyesight and loves to walk in the gardens to enjoy the beauty of natures.

👩‍🦯Her training crows to speak and sending a few to navier and the crows singing happy birthday to the and Queen and the crows vibing.

🌸What whoud be there reaction is she died because of her illness and seeing all the nobles morning her death and sending there regards to kosiar.

(I don't know why but that crow in the picture is so adorable)

Preface: You are a part of the nobility who is loved by all because of your motherly attitude towards everyone. You are married to Kosair, which makes you Navier and Sovieshu’s sister-in-law. Your children, one boy and one girl, are the perfect mixture of you and Kosair.

Sovieshu

He also considered you a ‘motherly’ figure, as you always offered him guidance in both political and personal matters. His earliest memories consist of him leading you through the palace gardens as he told you about problems he was having in his daily lessons. Needless to say, you were very close.

Even when he took on Rashta as a mistress, you gently asked him if he thought that he made the best choice for the Empire. You did not discriminate, even when he made mistakes, and that’s what he appreciated (and no, he did not harbor romantic feelings for you). Even after you were wed to Kosair and had children, the closeness between you two was not severed. He still went to you for advice.

He was originally going to name one of your children the Crowned Heir of the throne if he and Navier did not conceive, but Rashta was pregnant so that threw a wrench in his plans. Still, you harbored no resentment. You even congratulated him on the news (although, you knew that it wasn’t his).

However, he also knew of your sickness. That was mainly why he had to lead you through the gardens, since the illness left you blind. He was aware that you wouldn’t live long, as your family was often cursed. It was typically thought that when you take the last name of another man, your illness would be cured but you chose to keep your last name. Your children had the name of Trovi, though.

When you inevitably passed away, it was the first time that everyone in the Empire gathered together to mourn. Even some people from different Kingdoms and Empires attended the funeral procession. Tears ran down Sovieshu’s face, and he held his wife to comfort her. Your spirit, before ascending, was happy to see that the Emperor and Empress came together for one final time.

Rashta

You were the first person to make her feel welcomed into the palace, and she appreciated it. However, she realized that since you were loved by everyone, both high-ranking and not, ruining your reputation would do good for her because all of the negative attention wouldn’t be on her anymore. Plus, you knew that the baby wasn’t Sovieshu’s. You had told her that you didn’t judge, but she felt threatened.

She invited you for a walk in the garden, and you accepted as long as she would guide you through. An odd request, but she agreed. Within the garden, she led you to the center, where she pushed you to the ground and screamed. A guard heard and went to investigate, only to find you on the ground. Rashta tried to say that you had tried to attack her, but the guard told her that you were blind.

That guard reported it to the Emperor, and he was angry at his mistress for daring to harm his ‘mother’ and try to paint herself as the victim. However, you argued that you weren’t terribly hurt, and maybe just got a bit of a scratch at the most. Thus, the punishment should fit the crime.

Of course, the fact that you were blind caught your attention. So, she asked a servant to bring her to see you, and you gladly accepted her into your chambers. There, you opened the conversation with ‘What is wrong, my child?’ She didn’t know how to beat around the bush, so she directly asked how you became blind. You smiled before giving her a painfully honest answer. It made her tear up a bit, to be honest.

When you passed, she did not attend the funeral procession. She was advised by the Emperor as well as Duke Ergi not to, as the people were still angry at her for hurting you even though that was. However, once you were buried, she placed a single white tulip upon your grave. She has been told that it would be best, as it is a symbol of an apology.

Navier

Since you were her sister-in-law, it was no wonder that you both were very close together. She too seeked out your wise counsel when she went through times of despair. It was a surprise to no one that a lot of the nobility had given you the honorary title of ‘mother to all’. She often leads you through the gardens whenever she is troubled about something, and your conversations always leave her mind at peace.

Your twins were her niece and nephew, and she loved them dearly. They were quiet and kind, just like you, but they weren’t afraid to stand up for the people that they love, just like Kosair. Navier loved it whenever she heard them yell her name and she would kneel down to hug them. She was happy that they did not inherit your disease, as that meant that she would only lose one person that was important to her.

Speaking of your illness, she also knew of it, and she saw how you pushed through it day after day. There were times where you couldn’t get out of bed without major assistance, which did make her uncharacteristically upset. She could tell that your twins and her brother were silently suffering at seeing you sick and weak.

She was definitely angry when she heard that you had been pushed to the ground by the mistress, but she was surprised to see you arguing that you weren’t hurt badly and thus any punishment given to Rashta should be light. But, she was not going to argue against you, as you always knew best.

When you passed away, she stood with her older brother and her niece and nephew as she cried. It was raining that day, and black umbrellas as well as black attire under a sky of rain clouds were all that could be seen. Sovieshu surprised her by wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and she let a few tears fall. She swore that she could feel your spirit next to her.

Every year, for her birthday, the same crows that you trained would come and sing her Happy Birthday.

Heinrey

He had first met you at the ball, and he could see that you were basically like a mother to all of the noble families. So, he chose to get to know you since you were a motherly figure to Navier. Almost immediately, you both were sitting down as you listened to the problems that he was having.

This is where he accidentally lets it slip that he is the bird that keeps visiting Navier, and you smile as you say that you can’t see anything, so you can’t say anything. Heinrey had noticed that you weren’t looking at him throughout the whole conversation, so now he realizes that you are blind. Your husband, Kosair, actually led you everywhere.

During his visit at the palace, your husband brought your children to see Navier, which was the first time that the Prince got to see them as well. From what he could tell, they looked like Kosair but acted like you. They seemed to not have inherited your curse as well.

Unfortunately, he was not informed about your declining health, as it was deemed to be untimely since his brother was on his deathbed as well. So, when he inherited the crown of the Western Kingdom and went to visit Navier, he was wondering where you had gone. Unfortunately, the wound was still fresh when he asked Her Imperial Majesty.

It felt like he actually lost his mother all over again. He mourned, and he did not take the grief well. However, your last words to him were in a letter, and they were to make the Empress happy. So, he would do that to the best of his ability because it’s what you would have wanted.

Kosair

You both first met when you were children. Sure, you both were betrothed to one another considering it was believed that if you got your husband’s last name then you were exempt from the curse, but he still loved you with all his heart. However, for some unknown reason, you stuck with your original name. As sad as it made him, he did not argue against your choice.

The twins that you had given birth to were his entire world aside from you. His daughter and son had him wrapped around their fingers. He never told you this, but he was glad that you chose to give them his name, Trovi, instead of Ubuyashiki. But, you were still suffering from the curse, so he believed that it was his job as your husband to help you.

He loved leading you through the garden that you both had grown because it was a symbol of how you built a life together through the struggles. You loved that he cared about you so much, and it was always a wholesome moment. Eventually, your children would inherit the Manor and the garden, and you hoped that they would continue to help it thrive once you had inevitably passed.

Unfortunately, your health had deteriorated to the point where you were bedridden. Kosair held your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it as he spent as much time as he could by your side. Your children cuddled up next to you, which made you smile. Your crows were perched on the window sill, letting out sad cries.

Then, you passed away peacefully in your sleep. Because you were loved by everyone in the Empire, your funeral procession was one that would be typically for the Imperial Family. Everyone, aside from Rashta, attended. Kosair and your children as well as Sovieshu and Navier stood front and center as the High Priest said some words over your casket. Once the casket was covered with dirt, your husband placed your wedding ring within the dirt so that it would be buried with you.

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no-light-left-on · 3 months

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I wonder if Jessamine's passing influenced the way death and mourning is viewed in the Empire

the world is strongly inspired by Victorian and Edwardian society, and one of the most defining aspects of the era, at least for modern people, is the way mourning was perceived at the time.

which, in turn, was influenced by the untimely death of queen Victoria's husband. the period of mourning, the way it is to be expressed, how people should behave and dress - all of this was strongly influenced by the widowhood of queen Victoria.

there are some paralells to it in the Kaldwin Empire, too. the untimely death of empress Jessamine, the high regard in which she is held long after her death, the ceremonies that accompany the anniversary of her passing. the way Emily has to perform, year after year, give a speech and celebrate her dead mother. the way Corvo's "celibacy" is often highlighted, his love for Jessamine and him remaining loyal to her even many years later and never taking another lover- so much of the mourning for the late Empress is celebrated and ceremonialized. I wonder what kind of effect it had on the world as a whole

#dishonored #dh #li.txt #jessamine kaldwin #i just need to talk about this okay #ive spent my afternoon reading up on how all this stuff worked in victorian england #yes i am writing a fanfiction how did you know------#i do not want to drag the way they dress into it since emily as a kid was in white (common mourning clothes for children which ????)#and corvo and jess were always wearing black #so Im guessing theyre just a goth family good for them

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inbetweenhours · 9 months

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More of my parent/family musings about the empire characters! Got inspired and finished off my ideas for the season 1 cast!

vvv Links to other musings below vvv [Shrub here | Scott, Sausage, & Seablings here | Joel, Joey, & Katherine here]

Anyways, my art style slipped out of the cartoonish way it had been doing the others in this series so these are more normal sketches than the others.

under the cut I'll drop some quick ideas I have about the parents, like I have on previous posts for those interested :] Enjoy!

First up are LeeryDoe and KeenBronze! I'm sure the Grimland's naming scheme is making a bit of sense seeing the family all next to one another. Both the twins parents are Grimland's engineers, while LeeryDoe specializes more in concept and planning vs KeenBronze expertise in metalworking they make a pretty good team! They're a pretty normal family with their ups and downs. Not perfect by any means but there is care even when they don't necessarily fit together well. I could take about them ages but we see glimpses of them in my fic War on our Shores so I won't blab here lol.

Quick Note on Fwhips name, "Fwhip" is a nickname for FailWhip which google tells me is his old username. I have translated this to mean that the idea of "failing" isn't a bad thing in the Grimland and it has more associations with the idea of learning and perseverance or progress which is why its not a miserable baby name lol.

Pearl and her parents! I had some trouble with them since my Pinterest board for Helianthians is a bit difficult for me. But I managed! Her mum is guardian of Helianthia before Pearl inherits the title. She may be called the farmer queen by other nations, but Guardian is her official title. I don't have too many thoughts about them, they're farmers, they do politics when they need to, they're pretty chill mostly. Baby Pearl was difficult to design tho.

Pix was by far the most difficult child to design just because a big thing about identifying Pix's character in art for me is his age and especially his beard and taking that tire and age away really makes him hard to identify. I managed though lol.

Pix's parent I don't have many thoughts for outside of the idea of them being very haunted. Very tired haunted eyes, between being queen and being the keeper of the vigil I think they're a rather mourning duo and Pix's childhood was kinda emotionally weird because of that.

anyway that's all i got, so long till i figure out my season 2 cast maybe! :] feel free to ask questions about this i love my fanon lore a lot lol

#empires smp #empires smp 1 #hourspost #hoursart #pixlriffs #pixandria #fwhip #geminitay #grimlands #gilded helianthia #pearlecentmoon #i realised i made an unbalanced amount of rulers the queens by accident but thats just silly to me slay girlies #i think i tagged everyone?#esmp #esmp s1 #esmpFamilyArt #<tag just because I've done so much of them lol

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bigasswritingmagnet · 3 months

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Helpful, in a Heterodyne Sort of Way (ch3/3)

Summary: Klaus arrives in Mechanicsburg to retrieve his son, who he believes has been kidnapped by the Heterodyne. (And Gil has. Just not by the Heterodyne Klaus thinks.) Saturnus (doting grandfather and old school Heterodyne to the core) is determined not to let Klaus ruin his granddaughter's date.

AO3 Link

In deference to the fact that Mechanicsburg was an independent city state and not part of the Empire, Klaus kept Castle Wulfenbach at the traditional two leagues.

Because his son had been kidnapped by the Heterodyne, he landed one of the smaller dirigibles directly outside the front gate and walked right in.

Klaus moved through the streets of Mechanicsburg like the one-man army he was. Tourists and citizens and even Jӓgers scattered before him, but Klaus didn’t notice. He was drowning in his own thoughts, struggling to keep his expression under control, to display anger but not…

He had not felt fear like this since the day Gil was born, when the midwife stood before him and Zantabraxus, two small bundles in her arms, and asked them which one to keep.

He had not felt so angry at another person since the day he came home to a shattered castle and learned that the world had been torn to pieces in his absence.

He had not felt so angry at himself since the day he woke up in Skifander, sprawled out before a long-dead queen’s gate.

To be made a fool again.

The youngest ever Lady of Mechanicsburg had looked up at him and told him, with such sincerity, that she wanted peace. She didn’t want to be an adventurer, but she didn’t want to run around terrorizing people either. And she’d seemed so sincere, and Klaus had thought that Teodora could do as good a job with a girl as with two boys, and Saturnus had looked so resigned—annoyed, but not resentful—that Klaus had believed her.

He'd believed her.

Klaus reached the foot of the great hill and began to climb towards the looming bulk of Castle Heterodyne.

When Teodora died, the world had tensed. A teenaged Heterodyne on the throne, with no voice of sanity to balance out the counsel of Saturnus Heterodyne? Surely, that would be it. Now the peace would end, now would come the fire and the terror and the war.

It had not come. Lady Heterodyne had shut the city down for a week of mourning and declared all seven St Teodora’s Days (none of the Popes had bothered to coordinate with each other) official holidays of Mechanicsburg. And that was it. And everyone had thought—well, that’s that then!—and relaxed.

Oh, Klaus kept an eye on her, watching for warning signs. But he had been braced—the world had been braced—for a Heterodyne. For armies of monsters, for death and destruction. For a return to the days of old.

Not even he had been braced for a Mongfish.

And she took his son. His son! It was too precise to be a coincidence. Even if Gil wasn’t the only young man spirited away to Mechanicsburg, for Gil to be chosen despite all the dangers it held, despite the retribution she had to know Klaus would bring down on her…

It was all too easy to imagine Lady Heterodyne smiling Lucrezia’s smile and saying ‘you know what would be funny?’

Saturnus was waiting for Klaus at the top of the hill with a giant, shameless grin, lounging back in his chair as if he had simply stepped out to enjoy the sunshine.

“Klaus!” he cried, cheerfully. “Welcome, welcome! So kind of you to drop by.”

Klaus strode forward until he stood directly in front of Saturnus, drowning the man in his shadow.

“Where is my son.”

“You’re looking well! Fantastic coat, by the way. You should really give Agatha some tips. She can do stunning, but bombastic intimidation is a mite out of her reach—”

“Saturnus.”

“Hmm?”

“Where. Is. My. Son.”

All manner of Sparks and noble families had quailed beneath that glare, had immediately rolled over and surrendered just to get Klaus to stop looking at them like that.

But Saturnus was a Heterodyne, and the ability to be intimidated had been bred out of them long ago—if they’d ever had it to begin with. His grin simply widened.

“Having dinner with Agatha.”

Klaus’ eyebrows shot up, and Saturnus tutted, shaking his head.

“No need for that look, Klaus, get your mind out of the gutter. All propriety has been observed. This is a civilized introductory dinner between two youths of genteel breeding.”

For a brief moment, Klaus forgot his anger and fear in the face of sheer amazement that Saturnus could refer to the Heterodyne family as genteel with a straight face.

“He’s fine,” Saturnus said, still with infuriating good humor. “He seemed quite taken with Agatha, to be honest—”

Bile rose in Klaus’ throat. No. Gil was intelligent, he was sensible—sometimes, about some things, surely about this—he would never fall for a woman after she had imprisoned him against his will.

But the words history repeats itself pounded in his skull like the Doom Bell, and Klaus found himself striding past Saturnus without another word.

Saturnus didn’t try to stop him, and neither did the castle, which should have been his first warning. He threw open the doors, strode into the main hall of the castle—did not stride into the main hall.

He was in a small, comfortable sitting room, with a crackling fire and a few soft armchairs, walls lined with shelves crammed full of books that were probably all banned in multiple countries. Overhead he heard a distinctly mechanical sniggering.

Behind him came the distinctive tapping sound of Saturnus’ chair, and the ominous groan and boom of the main doors closing—faintly, as if in the distance.

Klaus whirled around, and Saturnus smiled at him from in front of a perfectly ordinary sized door, not nearly large enough to be the main doors. Klaus shoved the man aside and wrenched the door open. It let him out onto a long hallway, one side of which had large windows overlooking an inner courtyard.

“Gilgamesh!” Klaus roared, but of course he got no answer.

It was a nightmare. The nightmare, throwing open door after door, down hallways and stairwells that never seemed to end, streets that went nowhere or doubled back on themselves; hearing Gilgamesh wailing in the distance but unable to tell which direction it was coming from; his wife calling after him she is the heir, this is how it must be; green-haired guards without faces grabbing him with hands like stone; and Klaus half-fell through another door and was once again in the small sitting room where Saturnus was waiting for him.

Smiling.

“Come on, do you really think you’d be able to track him down in this castle all by yourse—”

Klaus lunged. Before even the castle could move, he was across the room with his hand closing around Saturnus’ throat, hauling him up out of his chair, his dead legs dangling uselessly.

“You will release my son,” Klaus ground out through his bared teeth, rage and fear feeding each other into greater and greater heights. “You will release him to me now, or I will finish what the Other started and burn your family and this town until there is nothing left but ashes.”

Dust trickled down onto Klaus’ shoulders. He raised his eyes and saw the stone block hovering overhead. Waiting. Klaus lowered his gaze and met Saturnus’ eyes, which were no longer looking quite so amused.

“I will take you with me,” Klaus said, his grip tightening.

“Right,” Saturnus said, voice slightly strangled because Klaus was strangling him slightly. “How about you put me down, and the castle doesn’t crush you, and we start this conversation over like civilized gentlemen.”

“You have never been civilized in your life.”

“Neither have you. But we are both good at pretending, when we need to.”

Klaus’ heartbeat began to return to normal, and the fog of mindless terror to diminish enough that he could think clearly. Sort of clearly, anyway. At least enough so he could realize that killing Saturnus, while immensely satisfying in the moment, would not help Gil.

Gently, Klaus lowered Saturnus back down onto his chair, which shuffled itself into position so Saturnus did not need to readjust himself.

Saturnus backed the chair away a little, rubbing his throat, and gave Klaus a wry smile.

“To answer your question, as I said, Gilgamesh is having dinner with Agatha. He is safe and sound, physically and—as far as I can tell—psychologically. And for the record, he’s here of his own free will. Now, anyway.”

“Do not lie to me!” Klaus snarled, temper flaring again, ignoring the threatening grind of stone-on-stone overhead. “He was seen with a woman matching the description of Lady Jenka of Mechanicsburg. Lady Jenka, who was then abruptly and urgently recalled to Mechanicsburg, leaving with a large wooden crate—”

“No,” Saturnus said, sarcastically, clearly unable to stop himself. “A woman traveling with large pieces of luggage, is there no end to Mechanicsburg’s depravities.”

“It had airholes in it!”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m not saying I didn’t kidnap him, I own up to that—and for the record I did it gently, not so much as a bonk on the head. Jenka used a very mild soporific; he just took a nap and woke up here. I’m saying that Agatha was all set to let him go, and he said he’d like to stay for dinner.”

Klaus snorted derisively.

“Do you seriously expect me to believe Lady Heterodyne went through all the trouble of having him kidnapped and brought here, only to let him go? Short of some plan to lure him in with reverse psychology, I refuse to believe—”

“I kidnapped him,�� Saturnus interrupted, disgruntled. “Who said anything about Agatha–” Saturnus stopped, eyes going wide, pieces falling together. “Red fire, no wonder you’re in a state.”

“I am ‘in a state’ because you kidnapped my son.”

This time, Saturnus’ smile was bitter and humorless.

“But would you be in as much of a state if you didn’t so intimately know Lucrezia Mongfish for what she was?”

Klaus did not answer. His first instinct was to say yes, but…well. The thought of Gilgamesh hanging over a vat of acid while a Heterodyne cackled maniacally by the knife switch did invoke less terror than the thought of him alone in a room with Lucrezia.

“She’s not her mother, Klaus. She may look like her, but it’s no deeper than that. She’s a Heterodyne through and through. Not my brand of Heterodyne, more’s the pity, but she is still a Heterodyne. We don’t do subtle.”

“You don’t consider a quiet kidnapping to be subtle?”

“And how long did it take those shadow men of yours to figure out who took him and where? Probably before Jenka even left the dock.”

“Hardly,” Klaus said. “They wouldn’t have let her leave, if they had.”

But the man was making a fair point. Lucrezia didn’t kidnap her men—she simply wove a web and let them walk in of their own free will. She’d even let them think it was their idea.

“I swear to you, Agatha was about ready to bite my head off when I told her.” He rubbed his chin. “Might not have been quite as mad at me if I hadn’t waited to tell her til after he was tied to the chair and dinner was ready to serve. She really was going to let him leave, and he very much insisted on staying.”

“That would be an extremely foolish thing for him to do.”

Saturnus snorted, amused.

“Right, because love never made any man act a fool.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s never even met her before.”

“No,” Saturnus agreed. “But I’ll tell you now—the way he looked at Agatha when he first saw her? That’s how I looked at Teodora, and love made me enough of a fool that I didn’t realize she’d ruined my sons until it was too late. Huh! And now, between her and Agatha, I’m practically domesticated. Didn’t even consider invading Paris to get at him!”

“I would say it far more likely because you knew the Lady Heterodyne wouldn’t like it.”

“Yes. I would not burn down the world for her, Klaus.”

He said it with such determination, such seriousness, that at first Klaus couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a joke.

Then he remembered who he was talking to.

“That’s…very touching,” Klaus said, and mostly meant it. Then, abruptly realizing he’d been sidetracked, drew himself up. Very firmly, he said “Willing or not, I will take my son home.”

“No,” Saturnus said, just as firmly. “Or rather, not yet. He’s the first one she’s really liked that I’m sure can keep up with her. I’ll admit, I’ve gotten a little desperate—you wouldn’t believe the kind of young men who have come swanning in, looking for her favor.”

Klaus noted that Saturnus had not said "and out".

A sudden change came over Saturnus. He sat up straighter in his chair. He met Klaus’ gaze with eyes that burned with a fire that rivaled the depths of hell. When he spoke, his voice was solid steel, and for a moment Klaus could see Lord Saturnus as had been of old, the terror of Europa.

“But I truly believe he could make her happy, and if ensuring her happiness means bringing the wrath of the most dangerous man in Europa down on my head, so be it.”

Klaus considered this. On the one hand, he only had Saturnus’ word for any of this. On the other, it was hard to imagine Saturnus would be hiding the fact that his graddaughter was returning to family form, instead of gloating from the rooftops.

And, Klaus was forced to admit, it would be out of character. If she was responsible, it would be the first act of old-school Heterodyning from Lady Agatha—

Klaus remembered Duke Leffert’s attempted invasion the previous spring, and the mountain on the far side of the Heterodyne Valley that now had a big hole in the middle, and corrected himself. This would be the first unprovoked act committed by Lady Agatha in the nearly ten years she had ruled Mechanicsburg.

“Very well,” Klaus said, stiffly. “But I am not leaving without him.”

“You can have him back as soon as they finish dessert,” Saturnus promised, grinning again. “Now come on, let me pour you a drink. You could use one.”

‘Per my lady’s standing instructions, I am reminding you of the doctor’s orders,’ the castle said.

“Duly ignored,” Saturnus said cheerfully, moving his chair towards a laden drinks cart.

"You know, Wulfenbach, I didn't think much of you in the old days. But I'm glad to see you've gotten all that heroing out of your system and settled down to build a good old fashioned evil empire. And you’re doing a marvelous job! "

Klaus was very glad Saturnus' back was turned to him.

“Yes, it does my heart good to see someone keeping the old ways.”

Klaus managed to get his expression under control just in time as Saturnus turned around. Saturnus held out a crystal cut glass half filled with a dark purple liquid. Klaus did not hesitate to take the glass from Saturnus, or to drink from it, which pleased the old man greatly.

"Ha! Not an ounce of fear in you, eh?"

"I've made myself immune to most poisons,” said Klaus, looking down at the drink in puzzlement. “Especially the rare ones. " He sipped the drink again, and mentally weighed how much he wanted to know what the flavor was against how much he did not want to know what was made of.

"See! You know what you're doing! I'm not at all surprised by your choice of son.”

Klaus looked up, dragging his attention from the drink, which was reflecting the light in a very strange way.

“My choice?” he repeated.

"Heh. Perhaps I've said too much. No good giving you a reason to assassinate me, eh?"

Klaus did not particularly like the sound of that.

“Let’s just say, I’d be careful of those Sturmvarous people. That boy knows some things about Gil you might not want to get out.”

Klaus made a mental note to burn Sturmhalten to the ground as soon as he and Gil left.

Saturnus chuckled.

“Look at that face! Would you believe Agatha thinks you’re still good? I think it’s just because you used to run with her father and her uncle. People change, I tell her! If she’d seen you just now, oh, I’d like to see her try and call you good after that little display.” He wagged a playful finger at Klaus. “Don’t think I missed that subtle little dig about my grandson, either! A man after my own heart.”

Never before had such warm approval caused Klaus so much shame.

“It was over the line,” Klaus admitted.

“Oh it was!” Saturnus said, with evident enjoyment. “And I’ll bet you’re teaching Gilgamesh all you know, eh? Nature and nurture! He’ll make a fine overlord.”

Klaus kept his face neutral, even when Saturnus winked at him. Only when Saturnus took a drink did Klaus allow himself to grimace.

‘Lord Saturnus, the lady is–’

Klaus was suddenly aware of pounding footsteps and shouting. The door burst open, Klaus tensed, and the Lady Heterodyne came tumbling in. Right on her heels was–

“Gilgamesh!”

The wave of relief could have brought Klaus to his knees. Gil was unharmed, though his clothes were slightly rumpled. His eyes were shining and slightly manic, but no more than was usual for Gil under the influence of the Spark.

“Father!” he said, startled, but not displeased. “What are you doing he–?”

“Grandfather!” Lady Heterodyne interrupted. She grabbed the arm of Saturnus’ chair. “The blue orb things in the grey hallway, are they lamps or lightning generators?”

“Lamps-”

Agatha whirled around and jabbed a finger at Gil.

“Ha!”

“--that generate lightning.”

“Ah-HA!” Gil exclaimed.

“Still primarily a lamp!” She swung back around to Saturnus. “I need them. Castle! I want the electrical laboratory prepped! I need you to reroute the extra power to the salamanders, and if you can’t, find a place to dump it that won’t kill all the fish–”

“Father!” Gil said. “Did you bring the castle? Can you bring me my lightning generator–”

“—lamp!—and tell Van to have the river blocked off for the next few days just in case—”

“Oh! And can you bring my weather enhancer, my weather dehancer, and my electromagnetic–”

“There's no time!” Agatha cried. “The storm will be here in half an hour!”

“You know what, nevermind, I'll just build new ones. Let's go!”

Gil and Agatha took off, leaving the door hanging open.

Klaus stared at the open door, listening to their excited shouting fade as they ran down the hall. He shut his eyes, knowing, knowing without even needing to look, that Saturnus was smirking triumphantly. In the distance, Gil laughed.

He sounded…very happy.

“So! Solstice at your place this year?” Saturnus asked, somehow managing to gloat a question.

Klaus downed the rest of his drink in one swallow.

“You know,” Gil said, in the dirigible on the way to Castle Wulfenbach, “it’s the funniest thing—Saturnus thinks I’m adopted.”

Klaus’ brow furrowed.

“He told you this?”

“It’s why he kidnapped me in the first place. Apparently, he overheard Tarvek Sturmvoraus saying my real father is Petrus Teuful. I don’t even know where Tarvek got that idea in the first place.”

Klaus, keeping his face perfectly neutral, mentally crossed destroy Sturmhalten off his To Do list.

“I can’t imagine,” he said.

#girl genius #klaus wulfenbach #saturnus heterodyne #gil/agatha #gilgamesh wulfenbach #agatha heterodyne #doting grandfather saturnus au

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stealingpotatoes · 9 months

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Skywalkers apart au! It's so precious that Anakin gets to be a dad, a rebellion general Dad but he gets to be there for at least one of them and Padme survives and gets to be a mom and maybe someday they get to meet and it's so good.

Also the concept of General Skywalker of the Rebellion feels like it has so much potential cause he was such a big figure in the Clone Wars, he was the Hero, the General, he could probably get the various splinter rebel cells (they were very divided in the early Rebellion) to follow him by sheer reputation and charisma. Imagine Anakin being at Hoth, like the attack is going along the usual Imperial imminent victory and suddenly an AT-AT has been thrown clear across the landscape and an announcement sounds out "General Skywalker has entered the field" cue Rebel Counterattack due to morale boost and Imperial Panic.

What happened to the 501st here? Did he go to the Venator's crash site where Ahsoka was during Order 66 what did he think when he saw all the dead folks?

Fun thought, Starkiller being the apprentice in this AU, means that Sidious has probably been comparing him to Anakin (in part because he's bitter he didn't fall, in other part cause it's great for fueling the darkside) for years so the first time they face off he's gonna be full of spiteful hatred (all going according to plan) before Starkiller gets styled on by the Skywalker, cause Anakin isn't crippled by the suit and that means he's still massively powerful in the force and skilled in the blade (Vader was too, but less than a whole Anakin), I could see Anakin pulling a Lightside version of the Rogue One Hallway scene against Stormtroopers (or even inquisitors).

Rebel General Anakin Skywalker would be an Imperial Boogeyman.

Leia would probably appreciate it for a while but also she'd get a bit annoyed about her dad's reputation and "Legend" and the fact that she's probably got that entire thing to measure up to, making her more reckless or foolhardy. That's a big shadow to live under.

Padme on the other hand is probably in a very different situation reputation wise, she was the senator for the new Emperor's home planet, she's the old queen of naboo from the Trade Federation attack, she's a founding member of one of the oldest discrete rebellion cells but that still leaves some stigma. She's probably so very worried about Imperial surveilance on her or Luke or the rest of her family, and it doesn't help that the Inquistorious has probably been sniffing around for a while.

ok this is a veeeeery long ask so i'm gonna have a veeeery long answer which is gonna go under this readmore:

YES!! yes absolutely! tbh i decided a while back he never gets an official promotion to general, everyone just calls him General Skywalker for so long that it sticks loll. BUT YEAH I mean working with a Jedi is rare and awe-inspiring enough for any rebellion cell but working with the hero with no fear??? half the rebels are wondering if they can interrupt this mission to ask for his autograph

its extra funny bc for the first few years of the empire he's lowkey depressed and like agh i failed the order republic AND my family i'm a terrible horrible no good jedi who nearly turned to the dark side and while he's having this spiral there's some rebel standing next to him pointing and pogging

and yeah he's SO useful in big battles like that!! he's half a legend, half a ghost story, given most ppl think he died in the Purge but here he is, enacting justice on the empire!! tho he does struggle on quieter missions (which happen a lot more at first bc gotta hide from the empire) that you cant just blaze into. its a difficult shift to go from clone wars general skywalker to rebel general skywalker

yeah 501st same as canon ): but OHHH MY GOD yes thats SUCH A PERFECT IDEA, Anakin going with Rex and Ahsoka to the site and mourning them all (and probably going into another depression spiral lbr)

youre so right lollll obvs leia loves the one up she has in an argument of "well my dad's general skywalker, beat that" but as u say she absolutely wants to live up to that (+ is a very independent/stubborn person and would like Leia Skywalker, not just "General Skywalker's daughter" lol)

AND YEAH ABSOLUTELY Padmé and Anakin's roles in this au are both so interesting (is that egotistical to say) bc they're these upside down versions of their clone wars roles, both very loud people forced to quieten down and be Discreet about how they go abt helping ppl. Padmé is really struggling hiding so much (luke's force sensitivity, her rebel activities, all relations to anakin) and trying to protect Luke while helping the Rebellion WHILE trying not to seem suspicious. a lot on her plate -- only made worse by palpatine keeping a close-ish eye on her, and she can't tell why (is it bc of luke? the rebellion? anakin? or is it just his old favouritism or patriotism being VERY inconvenient??)

on the inquisitors, obvs you don't see a lot of them on coruscant -- but padmé's SO scared abt ppl (MAINLY SIDIOUS WHO, YA KNOW, TRIED TO TURN LUKE'S DAD SITH) finding out abt him and she hates that she's making him repress this part of himself but what choice does she have???

#long post #skywalkers apart au #love au talk!!! thank u for so much of it!!#thanks for the ask!

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mikeysbabygirl · 2 years

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Mikey Mikey Mikey 😩

I challenge you to write something about Kantou Manji Mikey and a bad bitch reader.

Would you take the challenge?

YES, YOUR MAJESTY

WARNING : 18+, MINORS DNI. Explicit smut, cursing, swearing, nicknames, violence, mention of murder.

Pairing : Yakuza's daughter! Reader x Kanto Manji! Mikey.

-" Stop fucking crying. "

The coldness of your voice made her startle in a sob, still with her funeral dress and hat on, her discreet mascara now staining her cheeks, she sat on the bed, shoulders trembling and looking at you aghast.

-" how can you say that ? How can you act as if nothing happened ?"

-" Unlike you, dear mother. I don't cry, I stab what made me sad." you strapped the knife under your garter belt, then adjusted the dark dress reaching at your mid-tight. A smile curled your red painted lips when you recalled how everyone at the funeral has been shocked by your inappropriate outfit.

-" there's nothing we can do about it " she mourned, looking at her hands on her lap. " He killed your dad, took down the empire".

You rolled your eyes, having your back still facing her. You decided to not let her negative vibes ruin your confident state.

-" Sano wanted the empire " you fixed your bloody red lipstick through the mirror of the vanity. " He's gonna get the queen as a bonus ".

Your mother wiped her tears and cursed, well, still with those good wifey words, and got up from the bed she was sitting on, making her way to where you were standing in front of the vanity.

-" come to your senses, silly girl ! " She put her hands on your bare shoulders, shaking you slightly. " He's gonna eat you alive !"

A smirk made its way past your lips, you turned toward her, face only inches away from that face somehow similar to yours, you uttered.

-" Great. You know the poison you gave birth to, mother. Gonna intoxicate him ".

Her face drained from hope, she let go of your shoulders and lowered her head, pain obvious on her beautiful face.

-" I don't wanna lose the last spark of this family. You're the heir, damn it ! "

Your hands found your mom's shoulders, steadying her shaking form and placing a furtive kiss on her forehead.

-" nothing's gonna happen to me" you reassured, looking her in the eyes. " I'm gonna run this nothing town, bring Sano Manjiro's heart on a silver plate ".

You already had it after all.

The way to Kanto Manji's hideouts was nothing you didn't already knew, your father's men following you closely, opening every door for the princess, shoving away every security guard who tried to stop you from reaching the meeting room.

Not even bothering to knock at the door, you grabbed the door handle and once inside, eleven pair of eyes landed on you. The one you recognized as Shion Madarame, who by luck- or misfortune was standing next to the door came to stop you.

-" whoa slow dow- "

In less than a second, he was on the floor, lying on his stomach, hand on his crotch that you had just hit with your heel.

A cry of pain left his mouth, followed by many curses as you simply walked on his back with your five inches high heels as if he was nothing but parquet, making few steps toward the huge table where all the members sat, dumbfounded.

-" what the fuck ?" Ran stood up, anger emanating from him and started making his way toward you and your men who just came through the door. You did the same, walking toward him, hand reaching his lips when he was near enough to steal the cigarette he didn't started to smoke, leaving him in owe.

You made your way to where he was previously sitting, right next to a man with a hairstyle that looked suspiciously like a zebra and sat down.

-" Thanks " you adressed the elder Haitani, who stayed up dumbfounded. " These stilettos might be pretty, still they hurt like a bitch. Isn't it, Shion-san ? "

The man who had just stood up gave you a dark look, followed by a whispered " bitch ". After seeing four of your father's men coming inside, Rindou, Ran, Shion, and Sanzu who just stood up pulled out their gun, ready for whatever order their boss would give them. That one just sat at the edge of the table, dark eyes stuck on you, while you threw your head back toward Rindou Haitani. He previously was standing up behind Ran's seat, and so now was standing behind you, his eyes studying your thin throat and plunge cleavage, feeling his pants tightening at the sight of your breasts slightly poking out and the smirk adorning your pretty lips.

Your eyes never left his, expectant, making him gulp down. He understood your message and looked at his boss for permission, that one nodded and quickly, Rindou pulled out his lighter and lighted the cigarette between your lips.

-" The daily dose of drama is here " Kokonoi rolled his eyes, you left Rindou's gaze and looked at that one, a bored look on your face. Your fingers reached your lips and pulled out the cigarette, Mikey watched as you exhaled the smoke out of your red-tinted lips, how it quickly blurred your pretty face before disappearing in the air.

Fuck, you were gorgeous, fatale, even. So much that you succeeded into getting him interested on something that wasn't fights or blood. Beautiful girls come and go between their bedsheets everyday, but you... You were the princess, after all.

-" I swear I don't love the drama. It loves me " you grinned at him, he rolled his eyes once again and then, all eyes were on Sano Manjiro, the boss, the one who took your father's life.

-" Pretty bold from you to come here. You dug your own grave, y'know ?" His relentless and dull voice echoed in the room, your father's men all stiffened, even his own men, but you appeared unmoved.

-" pardon, what was your fucking name again ?" You smiled and took another drag of the cigarette, the blond deadpanned, leaning against the back of his chair and intertwining his fingers together.

-" The one you've been screaming when my cock was splitting you in two ".

You quietly swallowed your saliva, trying to keep a straight face. He didn't smile, against all expectations, he said these words without flinching, his eyes empty on you. His men stood there in surprise, they knew how petty Mikey's words could be, but around you, it was a whole new story.

-" is it just me or the room got hotter ? "

-" Shut up you cheap Zayn Malik" you responded to Hanma who's smile grew wider, your eyes went back to your ex-boyfriend , throwing death glares that didn't shook him at all.

-" so I was your way of getting back at my father, really?" Your voice didn't expressed the slightest emotion, yet he knew you better than anyone , he could still feel the hurt that would never reach your lips.

-" why asking questions you already know the answer to, doll ?" This was Sanzu Haruchiyo, who had a devilish smirk on his face while standing up next to his boss' chair, you ignored his statement purposely, making him understand he had no say in the matter and turned your look back at Mikey.

-" Pretty coward move " you took off the cigarette and put it out on the expensive table, hearing a sigh you ignored falling from Kokonoi's lips. " Thought Kanto Manji's leader could do better than playing with a girl's heart ".

-" cut that shit out " his voice was sharper now, he was warning you. If you have been any other one, your body would be lying lifeless on the floor by now.

But that was the problem, you were not anyone.

You were you. The first girl he could and had called his girlfriend, the one who stayed, the one who accepted the rotten parts of him, the first one to confess she loved him, who gave him her heart, her virginity, her trust...

Sano Manjiro was a monster, a killer, a criminal, but he was not heartless. His heart, his love were exactly what put him through his endless darkness, therefore, he couldn't just kill the one who made his heart flutter again after years of numbness, as hard as he tried.

-" It's not my fault you were as stupid as to think I cared".

You gulped down, eyes quickly lowering to avoid his piercing gaze for a second.

He lied, did you know he lied ? You should know he lied, Manjiro believed you knew.

He didn't cared at first, you were nothing but a way to get to your father, a rich and powerful Yakuza. Kanto Manji was still a new formed gang, the strongest in Tokyo, yes, but could not be called as a crime organization either, not like your father's. So he used you, it was pretty easy to get to you, since he was twenty and you nineteen, being in your age range, pretending to be interested by you.

He started gaining your trust, and your father's, by the way. Your dad liked him, seeing in him a sort of young reflection of himself, everything was going well, too well. Your hands fit in his, too well. Your pussy squeezed him, too well. Your eyes weakened him, too well.

He wouldn't react to a notification from you by rolling his eyes, no more, he would wait for your call and gets frustrated everytime you didn't. He would like the way you knew when to leave him alone, and when to not, when to hold him at night and not wait until he does it first, because you didn't expected anything from him, didn't put any pressure on him to be someone he wasn't, and for the first time in ages, he felt really wanted.

He wasn't anymore the one so many people wanted to take down, his darkness wasn't chased down between your arms, it was cherished, it was tamed. And before he could understand what happened, he was knee deep in that unhealthy obsession toward you, but Kanto Manji came first,and he went by the initial plan and used you to get to your father, get informations from you, killed your father and conquered his empire.

-" I'll write these same words on your stone, Sano " you threatened with nothing in your eyes but hatred, he stared at your sirens eyes, suppressing the urge to take you here and now, in front of his men, he was crazy about that wild side of you.

You appeared all innocent and goody-goody at first, but he saw through it, how couldn't he ? He was no one but Sano Manjiro, and he swore to bring out that monster peeking out from your eyes, he did. He did see the twisted will in your doe-like eyes, the wicked behind your bright smile, and started corrupting you until he turned you into what you were today, bursting in his office, hitting one of his man and making almost all of their pants tighten with your attitude.

His baby...

-" Feel free to do so " he challenged, not the least intimidated by your threat. " Until you can finally kill me, let's talk business" .

His eyes darted on his men who were standing up, Ran gave him a nod, signaling that they were surrounding all the men who came with you.

-" With the death of your father, you should know that everything your family once owned is rightfully ours "

-" Rightfully?" You scoffed, ignoring his men's death glares because you dared interrupting the boss. " You stole it. There is nothing rightful about killing my-"

-" I own you".

The look on his eyes stole everyone's breath, it was that same one that had Tokyo's most dangerous gangsters shivering, the one that had you rubbing your thighs together and he knew it.

-" You, your money, your family business ".

Mikey stood up, much to his men surprise since he usually preferred to sit on meetings. He passed quietly, slowly, by Sanzu, Takeomi and Kakucho, came to the other end of the table where Kokonoi was sitting and walked around it.

Rindou immediately retreated and gave him some space to stand behind you, you shivered when his hands grazed your bare shoulders, gripping the back of the chair, and you couldn't see him but you knew he was leaning against your ear, his hot breath hitting your cheek and his enticing manly cologne filling your nostrils.

-" Lamb, You're standing between the wolves " his lips moved against your ear, you closed your eyes slightly, ignoring how every man in the room was drinking in the electricity between the two of you.

-" Ain't nobody tryna save ya, no one would try to take what's mine ".

He discreetly inhaled your perfume, drinking in the sight of your flushed face under him, how you were squeezing your thighs under the table, how your eyelashes fluttered quickly, not daring to look up at him even once.

He loved when your untamed side showed up, but God, when you behaved, he was a goner.

-" It's over now, princess. Daddy's not here to protect you anymore " you felt his hands touch your hair, his so familiar touch put it on one side of your neck. You were staring right in front of you, avoiding his men's eyes who were to say the least mesmerized by the sexual tension between their boss and his plaything.

-" Bend the knee, love ".

The nickname was whispered for only you to hear, and under the table, his hand reached for your thighs discreetly making its way under your dress, he almost buckled his hips against the chair when you abruptly closed your legs on his hand.

-" kneel down. Give your all to me, you won't leave me either way. Not alive."

Because even if he killed your father, even if he broke your heart and took advantage of your love, he...

God, he loved you. He tried to deny it, try putting in on your pretty irresistible looks, but your personality got him hooked. He made you his, he claimed you his and decided he would not let you go, he would not push you away just as he did for nearly everyone who he has loved, he would find a way, but eventually, he would keep you by his side.

It wasn't a matter of the gang anymore, nor about money or power. It was about being close to you, about waking up next to you and finding out that he slept a full seven hours for the first time in years, about your needy voice when you would be screaming his name. Every little thing about you had him coming for more everytime he decided he would put an end to it, you beat him at his own game.

Before his hand could reach your garter belt, you swallowed thickly, and with the help of your great reflexes, grabbed the knife strapped to your thigh.

No one understood anything, until you were done standing up and turning toward your ex boyfriend, until his men all grabbed their guns and pointed them at you and your men.

Chest against chest, lips almost grazing each other, he didn't even flinch when the knife found its place under his throat, the sharp edge slightly touching his neck. His eyes bore into yours, igniting wild flames inside your body, trying your best to not let your hand shake around the knife.

There you were, he got you where he wanted you, corrupted, sinful, stained by him, just how he always craved it to be.

As much as your father tried to keep you away from everything, only teaching you how to fight, Mikey ended up pulling you into this life because his darkness screamed for destruction, he craved having your pure soul dirty by his handprints, this way, you would never leave him.

Both of your eyes and Manjiro's peered at Sanzu when you heard him push off the safety of his gun and pointing it toward you , Mikey's pupils shrunk, his deep voice echoed in the room, silencing every one of his men.

-" do it and you're a dead man".

He didn't needed to add anything else, Sanzu pointed his gun at one of your men instead, scared to face his boss' wrath if he ever hurt you.

He knew, as his second, better than anyone how you seeped through every pore of his skin until you were coursing through his blood, Mikey simply trusted his good girl with his life, even when she threatened him with a knife to his throat.

By the time you turned to look back at Mikey, you felt a cold metal under your chin, right against your throat and gulped down, heart missing several beats. Your eyes met his dark one's, his stare was dull and empty, signaling you that he could do it anytime he wanted to. He avoided getting too caught in your eyes that started to get tinted by a slight fear, wanting nothing but to make you understand he would never do you wrong, well, if you behaved, at least.

-" Haitani ".

The latter looked at his boss and nodded, ready to receive any orders while his gun was pointed at one of your men who did the same toward Rindou.

-" Take care of the men. "

He knew what it meant.

Quickly knocking down one of them, Shion taking down the second one, and the others being quickly knocked down by Rindou and Sanzu, you watched bitterly as all of your father trusted men fell to the ground, not able to do much more than holding tightly on the knife on your hand.

-" Get rid of them, 'nd leave, all of you".

His men looked at him in awe, Sanzu's eyes widened and Kokonoi, who sat still since the beginning got up from his seat.

-" boss, one of us gotta stay, she's threate-"

" I said go. "

He didn't even needed to raise his voice, his relentless tone made the walls tremble, scaring every soul present there.

-" my bitch, my business. Princess is mine to tame".

They sure looked at each other suspiciously, but no one dared to say anything. Bowing, they all stormed out of the room, one by one until you heard the door closing and there was no more soul than you, and your lover.

Your knife to his throat, his gun to yours.

Pressed against each other, chest touching at every breathe you took, his knee slyly sliding between your thighs, discreetly.

He started moving, and so you did. You found yourself turning around each other, eyes never leaving the other's, a fire around you, another inside you, his eyes were an iceberg, yours a volcano, just by the way you were looking at him, pointing that sharp knife at his throat, he was hard.

The room seemed smaller now, the air lesser and lesser, feeling your blood literally boiling, but not from anger. His eyes would never leave yours while you two turned around each other as boxers ready to jump on each other's face.

-" Suck ."

His command fell to deaf ears, he slided the gun up your throat until your jaw, then placing it above your lips pulling your lower lip down with it. You shook your head, slightly pressing the knife harder on his throat.

-" I said suck. Suck it for your king. "

He used that same voice, the one that would send you to overdrive. You almost flinched when his thumb found your lower lip, parting them open to start pushing his gun inside your mouth.

What you didn't know was that he was completely into it, eyes stuck on your face that he found so beautiful.

You accepted to take the gun in between your lips, finally, letting him shove it until just the right depth to not cause you any harm or choking.

And Sano Manjiro has never been more turned on than that day where your pretty face and swollen reddened lips took his gun, you were a sin in disguise, your beautiful face, your perfect features and lips wrapped around his gun, his world, his madness.

-" that's my good girl" he praised and pulled out the gun from your mouth.

And as you were lost in his deep dark eyes, you noticed the men's noise was no more noticeable, surely making their way somewhere more private to " take care " of your father's men.

A smirk curled your lips slightly.

-" was it believable?"

If he would have been able, he would have smiled just as when he was a kid, that bright smile he always remembered around you.

-" so much that I wanted nothin' but to bend you over my desk and fuck you raw. In front of all my men ".

Your twisted grin widened.

-" would've let them see your baby's pussy, Manjiro ?"

You asked him with your fake innocent tone, bringing him over the edge. He let go of the gun, pushing it back in its holder before circling his hands around your hips, pulling you even closer than before.

-" would've blown their brain out after".

And he wasn't joking, since along with the feelings, he also started to get jealous. Everytime he would caught someone's gaze lingering a little too long on you, his blood would start boiling in his veins, his darkness screaming for blood and pain.

A chuckle leaves your lips, making his heart squeeze in his chest while he was unable to take his eyes away from your face as you did, eyes smoldered with mischief, cheeks faintly red, you were everything that kept him grounded, his strength and his weakness.

You were, what it would've took to bring him down, his Achilles heel.

-" you mad king " you teased, sliding the knife down on his collar and smiling at him lovingly, letting your lips linger near his without ever touching them.

-" Am I ?" Tilting his head, his eyes studied you, a threatening glare you should have flinched to, instead, you just cut the first button of his shirt, eyes never leaving his.

-" Mad king." You repeated, his hands around your waist easily lifted you, earning a gasp from your lips.

-" Betrayed your father for a mad king ?"

With you still on his arms like you weighted nothing, he walked toward the table and sat you on it, you parted your legs so he could stand between them.

His hands found your back, teasingly flying above the zipper of your dress, your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer.

-" I did something bad ".

Your voice echoed in his head, that good girl tone sending shivers down his spine. He needed you , and you needed him just as much as he did.

And in no time, you found yourself bare in front of him for the umpteenth time, giving yourself to the man who killed your father.

The man you helped to kill your father.

Mikey threw his head back, feeling the knot in his balls tightening from how tight you were squeezing him, his hands were holding your hips so tightly he had no doubt it would bruise, but he loved it, staining you.

-" what would daddy think , if he saw his princess clenching 'round my cock like a fuckin' virgin, hm ?"

His voice was almost quivering, raw and hoarse, deep in pleasure. His hands wandered toward the valley of your breasts, and he lowered his face to drink on the sight you were giving him.

Bare for him, eyes rolled back, tears trickling down your cheeks, mouth hanging open for his kisses, and shit, he was head over heels for you.

He leaned over you, taking your lips in another heated kiss and swallowing a high moan you left when he thrusted particularly harder in you.

-" He liked- Oh fuck, Manjiro !" His cock throbbed harder when you screamed his name and clenched around him tighter, peppering kisses along your neck.

-" He liked to keep me helpless by his side " you tried to say without moaning or crying, sinking deeper on his cock. " I'm not his fucking princess".

-" Hell yeah, you my queen " Mikey's words felt more like a grunt or a moan, he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, how could he help it ? Everything about you was just so perfect.

From the way you milked him so nicely, to the way you helped him to kill your father, willingly giving him every information or help he needed when your so smart head discovered his goal.

Sometimes, he wondered if you were a gift sent from god himself to him, or just one of Satan's lures to get him deeper in hell. Damn, how could he have found someone to love, someone who accepted him, and better, someone who got along with his madness ? He would never let you go.

His thumb kept playing with your clit until you came undone on his cock, moaning his name endlessly and mesmerizing him by the sight of your face, drunk in pleasure.

-" Didn't liked the way they were eyeing my bitch. " He grunt in your ears, pounding relentlessly in you while you were long gone now, nothing more than a rag doll in his rough but loving arms. " Gotta make them know you're mine. Gotta fuck a child inside ya, yeah ? Fucking love of m'life ".

You were definitely too high on pleasure to even respond, riding your second orgasm already. Your hands flew to his hair, caressing his locks softly despite the way he was pounding in you, and something inside Manjiro's chest squeezed hard, how you would always soften for him even in his worst days, he didn't deserve you...

-" Don't- Uh... Don't make me regret betraying my own blood for you, 'Jiro " you gasped, tears in the corner of your eyes and mouth agape, his lips rested and lingered on your forehead, while he felt his balls growing heavier and heavier.

-" been loyal to me 'til the very end, I'd rather die than let my baby down ".

Those were a man's words, a king's words. To him, you were his ride or die, his one and only.

You trusted him with your grandfather's empire, knowing your father wasn't doing his duty as he should, you put everything your ancestors worked hard for into his dirty hands, and showered him with the love he would not deserve in million years.

Mikey knew, if he had to die for someone, someday, it would be you.

Your lips grazed against his ear, soft voice singing right against him and making him moan your name louder.

-" your queen " you corrected him, placing kisses all along his neck, inhaling his cologne.

Kanto Manji's head leaned in your embrace, nose brushing against your hair to inhale your heavenly scent now long lingering on his pillow and sheets at home.

Mikey was loyal, maybe a hell to work with, but nonetheless loyal. You have devoted everything for him, just as one of his men, he had to respect you and take care of you, and he just had a soft spot for you, how could he refuse you anything while being inside you this way ?

You felt his small smirk against your cheek when he came inside you, breaths heavy, chest brushing against yours, his deep voice made you shiver.

-" Yes. Yes, your majesty".

I took the challenge! Hope you would like it, unknown person, I wrote it half asleep with my poor 3am imagination.

Network : @tokyo-ballroom @downtown-roponggi

Requests are still open for TR characters!

#kanto manji x reader #kanto manji gang #mikey smut #mikey fluff #mikey angst #mikey tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers smut #ran haitani #tokyo rev smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo rev fluff #tokyorev spoilers

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reneeofthestars · 6 months

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Reunion

Excited to share the short story I wrote for "Star-Crossed: An Anidala Zine" @anidalazine ! A "Padme Lives" AU

Words: 2,585 * Read on AO3

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Padmé Naberrie Amidala, former Queen of Naboo, former Galactic Senator, and current member of the Rebellion, had been in her share of tight spots before.

But this was the first time the tight spot was an Imperial holding cell.

She’d already examined every inch of the enclosed dimly-lit space, searching for a weakness she could exploit, but found none. There was no access panel, no loose wiring, and no ventilation system large enough for her to squeeze through. So Padmé sat on the bench and watched the door, working on what she would say when an officer inevitably came to interrogate Sola Minnau.

After all, Padmé Amidala was dead.

For a while, Padmé thought she was dead. The galaxy around her swirled in hot reds and blues, then cold blacks and whites. Grief so raw it threatened to tear her apart, pain unlike any she had experienced, then stillness. Such perfect, silent stillness. She was weightless, drifting through some gentle embrace where there was no pain. No suffering.

It was the babies’ cries that called her back.

Once she was well enough to sit upright, she held her children close to her. Leia had Padmé’s eyes; Luke had Anakin’s. She was given privacy to cry. And once she had no more tears to shed, she set to work.

Padmé contacted Sabé, and her dearest friend organized the rest. Gathering Padmé’s former handmaidens, they worked swiftly to organize a body double and a funeral, and before long, the people of Naboo mourned the death of Padmé Amidala.

Heart aching but determined, Padmé had agreed to have her children separated – from her, and from each other. Having lost Anakin, Palpatine would turn his interest to the children if he knew they lived. Obi-Wan disappeared into the Outer Rim with Luke, and Bail falsified Leia’s birth records and took her into his home.

Over the years, Padmé – Sola Minnau, now – worked closely with Bail, Mon Mothma, and other trusted allies, establishing contacts, supply lines, and information networks. They smuggled food and medicine to communities being bled dry by the Empire, and helped those in danger disappear, all while trying to bolster support to resist the ever-growing dominance of the Empire over all worlds.

They all knew the risks. If they were caught, they could be subject to execution, or worse. But Padmé couldn’t stop. She would help, no matter the cost. She had spent her childhood on relief missions with her father, and she hadn’t been able to stand by while her people suffered when she was queen. She wouldn’t hide now.

That’s the thought that kept her focused when the contact on Rodia ended up being an Imperial informant. They had barely greeted each other before Padmé was surrounded by stormtroopers. Padmé had kept quiet, giving only her pseudonym when they initially questioned her. The troopers marched her onto a shuttle, and once they’d boarded the Star Destroyer in orbit, she’d been taken to a holding cell.

She took a deep breath and leaned back against the cold wall. In the twelve years since the fall of the Republic, Padmé had never been taken aboard a capital ship. With no communication or resources, help wasn’t coming. Padmé was on her own.

The door of the holding cell hissed open. She stood as a towering black-clad figure stepped in. Coarse, mechanical breathing filled the room; Padmé forced down a shudder. They had never crossed paths, but she recognized him from endless holos and horror stories, from the expressionless helmeted mask, from the lightsaber hanging from his belt.

Darth Vader.

Darth Vader’s breath would have hitched if his respirator hadn’t dragged the air from his lungs and reinflated them automatically. His heart would have stopped if the cardiac regulator hadn’t measured out steady heartbeats. The servos in his legs whirred as the galaxy was swept from under his feet and he nearly fell to his knees, so overcome with the emotions that suddenly raged inside him.

Padmé was alive. Alive, breathing, not five feet away.

No, that couldn’t be. She was dead. Vader had observed her funeral on Naboo, had mourned at her tomb. This was some trick, some deception meant to rattle him; the Emperor himself was likely behind this, testing Vader’s resolve. What was this trickery then? A PROXY droid? A Force Apparition? A Changeling? Perhaps a handmaiden?

But as Vader and his dead wife stared at one another, he shakily reached out with the Force, and felt – Padmé. Her existence thrummed in the Force, whole and strong, with that same vibrance he remembered from so long ago.

But she’d never looked at him like this. Anger burning in her eyes, resolve in the set of her lips, defiance in her stance. He’d seen her look at others like this and he’d admired her dedication and determination. But to have her glaring at him now, with loathing and defiance… he felt unsettled.

Padmé didn’t waste time. “On what grounds was I arrested?” she demanded. “It’s unlawful to take a citizen into custody without disclosing the nature of the supposed criminal activity.”

The current Admiral of The Executor had been so smug when he’d approached Vader to announce that a rebel insurgent had been captured. Vader had strode to the detention block, flanked by two stormtroopers, ready to wring out all the information he could from the rebel scum –

Of course she would be with the Rebellion. The Empire was the very thing that she had been so concerned about creating during the Clone Wars.

He forced himself to speak. “Conspiracy against the Empire.” His synthesized voice rang out in the enclosed space, so warped and pitched that she would never realize who she spoke to.

But did he really want her to know? Did he want Padmé to know what became of Anakin Skywalker? To see this broken, twisted husk of what remained? Would she want to know? Vader had killed Anakin Skywalker, had carved out everything that remained of the naïve Jedi, everything that Padmé had loved, until only Vader remained.

She was speaking, and Vader said nothing. He just… listened to her voice, bringing to mind memories of her practicing her speeches the night before important Senate sessions, as he half-listened, so happy that the Force had their paths cross all those years ago in Watto’s shop –

Fury burned in Vader’s core and he let it fester, let it burn away at the memories of the man he had killed. He turned his head, addressing the two stormtroopers standing in the cramped cell just behind him. “Leave us.”

Hastily, the troopers filed out, the door sliding closed behind them.

His breathing filled the silence; Padmé had stopped talking when Vader spoke. He felt her fear, though it did not show on her face.

“Do you have nothing to say?”

She had come to him on Mustafar, knowing what he’d done. Even as she betrayed me, she loved me.

It was the last thing she said to him; Vader heard it in his nightmares, sometimes. “Stop, stop now, come back. I love you. Anakin…”

Grief welled in him, and he spoke before he could stop himself. “I thought I lost you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ve never met.”

“You were alive, I knew you were, but I felt – I felt our bond break.” His emotions roiled through him. “You were gone, he said –“

Hatred .

“He said I killed you,” Vader rumbled. “He said I killed you in a fit of anger, and when I couldn’t sense you, I believed him. The Emperor lied to me. He’s kept you from me all these years, knowing that I –”

That he what? Would have left Emperor Palpatine’s side? That he would run away with his long-lost wife? That he would kill her?

Padmé’s eyes had gone wide, frightened, incredulous as she stared at him. In a small voice, so quiet he almost didn’t hear: “…Anakin?”

The anguish threatened to consume him.

“Anakin Skywalker is dead.” He paused. “I…am what remains.”

She stared at him for so long, so silently, that Vader wondered if this might be a dream after all. “What…what happened?”

“It is because of Obi-Wan that I am like this,” he hissed.

“No! He would never hurt you! He loved you –”

“Enough! I don’t need to hear empty assurances.”

Fear lingered in her eyes, but that spark had returned. “If you can’t believe he loved you, what about our love?”

“I loved you more than I can ever express. I did everything for you – I would continue to do anything for you – ”

“Except come with me.”

“You brought Obi-Wan to kill me.”

“No! I didn’t know! I didn’t know he’d snuck aboard my ship.” And Vader was startled to hear the truth of her words reverberate in the Force. Taking a hesitant step forward, Padmé’s eyes flickered between the lenses of his mask, as though trying to see through them. “All I wanted was you. For us to be safe, and happy. We didn’t need anything else. Even…even after everything you did…”

“It was necessary. To bring order to the galaxy, to gain powers of the Force that would save –” Vader stopped abruptly. “The child. Does the child live?”

She bristled, and that was all the answer he needed.

He turned from her, but he didn’t see the cold cell around them. He saw a child splashing in the lakes of Naboo, Padmé laughing as she chased them, and Anakin Skywalker watched them from the grass, smiling and happy, whole and unburnt.

And then his vision clouded with red, and black, and Darth Vader’s fury returned, wiping out the scene of peace that had been stolen from him. Because it had been stolen from him. If he had never pledged himself to the Emperor, never razed the Jedi Temple, never succumbed to the Dark Side, if the Emperor hadn’t lied to him about Padmé’s death…

“Anakin?”

He jolted out of his seething reverie. Padmé’s expression was carefully controlled, but Vader could sense her unease, her fear, her… hope.

Her steady voice held more gentleness than he deserved. “What happens now?”

Now, the Emperor would die. Now, Vader would have revenge. Now…

He turned on his heel and waved his hand, the cell door opening, harsh white light spilling into the dim space.

“Bring her,” he commanded.

The stormtroopers moved immediately, pulling Padmé from her cell and marching her behind him. He could feel her eyes boring into the back of his helmet, but he didn’t turn around. If he took the time to explain, he might lose his nerve.

And neither Darth Vader nor Anakin Skywalker ever lost their nerve.

Padmé wanted to cry. She wanted to curl into the corner of some isolated place and sob her heart out. Instead, she raised her chin and walked as upright as she could as the stormtroopers escorted her behind the towering Sith.

How had the man she loved become the most feared monster in the galaxy?

She had believed, all those years ago, that there was still good in Anakin, even as he turned his back on everything he believed because he thought it would save her. But when Obi-Wan said that Anakin was dead –

Obi-Wan. Did he know that Anakin lived? Did he know what had become of his best friend? Had Obi-Wan lied to her about Anakin’s death, the way the Emperor lied to Anakin? No, she couldn’t believe that. He had been nearly as distraught as her. He couldn’t have known.

With all her heart, Padmé wanted to believe that there was still some sliver of good left in the creature that was Darth Vader; some glimmer of Anakin that she could recognize. But the horrific things that Vader had done… She watched the Imperials scatter from him in fear as Vader led her through the maze of corridors. How many had he killed? Tortured? He continued to hunt down surviving Jedi, relentlessly pursued Rebel insurgents, left ruins in his wake.

Could there really be good left in such a man?

She had to believe there was.

The corridor opened to a hanger bay. TIE fighters, small cargo ships, and shuttles lined the platform; technicians, pilots, deck crew, officers, and troopers moved in tightly organized groups, or else with purpose from one task to another. Darth Vader ignored them all, heading straight for a shuttle.

Technicians tending to the shuttle tripped over themselves as they leapt to attention.

“Lord Vader! We weren’t informed of a scheduled departure –”

“An apt statement, as I don’t often operate on schedules.” The man flinched. “I have need of my shuttle. Is it suitable?”

“Yes, my lord! It has been returned to your specifications.”

As the deck crew hurriedly cleared away their equipment, Padmé couldn’t help a twinge of familiarity; of course Anakin would be particular about his ship. So that, at least, had remained.

Darth Vader stood at the landing ramp and faced her. The troopers shoved her forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hand twitch. But he didn’t strike. Instead, he stepped in front of them. “That will be all.”

“Sir?” one of them asked confusedly.

“I am not accustomed to repeating myself.” The low, warning tone sent a shiver up Padmé’s spine.

“Yessir,” the other said hastily, stepping back. The first trooper went to speak, thought better of it, and followed his fellow soldier.

Darth Vader’s shadow fell over her as she walked into the ship. Despite the size of the shuttle, there wasn’t much room inside; half the interior was taken up by some spherical mechanism, like a ball-shaped chamber.

“What’s happening?” she asked, doing her best to keep her tone calm.

Instead of answering, Vader swept past her, cape billowing behind him as he strode to the cockpit. “Strap in until we enter hyperspace.”

Her stomach flipped. Where was he taking her? Why didn’t he bring any guards along? Tense, she lowered herself into a seat and adjusted the safety harness. Darth Vader – Anakin – no, she couldn’t think of him as Anakin – Vader sat in the pilot's seat, expertly flipping switches and adjusting controls until the ship hummed to life.

The harsh white of the hanger bay ended as they emerged into the blackness of space. She could just spy Rodia through the viewport as Vader turned the ship and input coordinates. Coordinates to where? Within moments, the stars warped and stretched, before slingshotting them into the blue-white of hyperspace.

Gathering herself, Padmé undid the harness and stood. Vader made no movement as she walked into the cockpit. Even when she stood beside him, he didn’t turn to look at her. She gazed out the viewport feeling like she was hurtling towards –

“I will take you anywhere you want to go.”

A breath escaped Padmé. “What?”

Vader said nothing.

“You’re –” she sat heavily in a little-used copilots chair. “You’re helping me escape?”

“You will be interrogated as a Rebel spy. You may be tortured, or killed. And if the Emperor discovered your identity, he may take personal interest.”

After a long moment he added softly, “I cannot lose you again.”

With a trembling hand, she reached over and touched the side of that black mask. Finally, he turned to face her. It may have been a trick of the lenses, but for just a moment, she thought she saw his eyes illuminated in the light of hyperspace. Anakin’s eyes. Luke’s eyes.

“Come with me.”

#anidala #andiala zine #anakin skywalker #darth vader #padme amidala #vaderdala #padme lives au #rebel padme au #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars empire era #star wars original trilogy #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #renee's writing #sw #padme/anakin #padme/vader #padme amidala/anakain skywalker

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247reader · 7 months

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Day 7: Cleopatra Selene!

Cleopatra Selene and her brother, Alexander Helios, were born to Cleopatra VII and Marc Antony in 40 BC; the twins were named for the moon and sun. As her parents formed their Mediterranean empire, they named six-year-old Cleopatra Selene Queen of Cyrenaica and Libya - but those plans crumbled to dust with the defeat and suicides of her parents. She and her young brothers were paraded in triumph through Rome as war prizes by Caesar Augustus, who then had them raised in the household of his sister (and Marc Antony’s former wife) Octavia.

The fate of her brothers is one of the great mysteries of the era; they simply disappeared from history. Cleopatra Selene, however, did not. She married Juba II of Numidia, a vassal king of Rome, who after Numidia’s direct annexation was granted the neighboring North African kingdom of Mauretania. The marriage was a success, and the couple essentially acted as co-rulers. Together, they created new infrastructure, expanded trade routes, and promoted the arts.

Cleopatra Selene also brought old allies and advisors of her mother’s to her new court at Caesaros, in modern-day Algeria. She promoted Egyptian influence in architecture and religion, including a version of the famous Pharos lighthouse, and firmly defended Cleopatra VII’s legacy. Defiantly, she named her son Ptolemy.

The date of her death is uncertain, with proposed dates ranging from 5 BC to 17 AD. Augustus’ court poet, Crinagoras of Mytilene, composed a poetic epigraph in which the moon goddess herself veils her face in mourning at the Queen of Mauretania’s passing.

#cleopatra selene #roman history #egyptian history #ptolemaic dynasty #awesome ladies of history #october 2023 #my art #pen and ink #suicide mention tw

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 6 months

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Oh yes I waited a long time for this moment!

Have you heard Dominik Fike's Mama's Boy song? It's very popular on Tik Tok and it hits me right in my motherly feelings.

How about a scenario where Reader in life was a great warrior of some kingdom she served, she had a son of her own and they were happy until in an enemy attack her son died in her arms without being able to do anything to save him. Destroyed, she gives her life in the last fight and they win, but she dies, so she is promoted to Valhalla and meets Zerofuku. Seeing him, she adopts him as her son and when Ragnarok happens and she finds out that he will fight, she makes an intervention so that her son is not hurt, but as we know, the ☠️ and she has a breakdown.

Already with that context (so long, sorry) the reaction of the remaining gods/humans upon seeing her like this? Assuming you already know their story because they are friends, and if one side wins and wants everyone back, what about the reunion with Zerofuku?

Bonus of her being able to say goodbye to her son? Sorry if it's too much! That song makes me cry haha

-To lose a child as a mother is the worst feeling in the world, and to lose multiple is a fate worse than death- not being able to do anything about it.

-That was your tale, you were a queen, an honorable and just ruler, one who loved your subjects and in return they all loved you, praising your rule as you led your kingdom into prosperity.

-Other kingdoms did not love you however, they were jealous of your wealth, seeing your people happy, seeing the prosperity, not realizing if they were more like you, they too would have kingdoms just as grand.

-However, they were too egotistical to realize this- too proud to admit that there was anything wrong with the way they ruled, and in turn so many lost their lives.

-You wept, holding your son, your only child, in your arms, his life already taken by a cowardly king who thought a child was an easy target- unaware of the mother lion lurking nearby.

-Your son fell and that king quickly fell after and despite your pleas- your son never opened his eyes again.

-You took up your husband sword and led your forces yourself, driving back your foes, having no time to grieve as there were other people who needed you, ones that were also unable to grieve, but took up arms, even if they weren’t warriors, and followed you into battle.

-The battle was won, driving back and taking the lives of these foolish kings, taking over their own kingdoms, but instead of blaming those kingdoms, you forgave them, as those who remained were innocents, like your son- one’s who couldn’t fight back.

-You told your advisors to rebuild all the kingdoms into one massive empire, and you were going to lead, had your broken heart not taken your life, you didn’t see the sunrise the next morning, and so many mourned your death.

-In Valhalla many knew your tail, sympathetic towards you, as they knew you had lost your child, almost your kingdom, and then your life, to protect others- you were a hero in their eyes, but they could also see the sadness, the longing in your own eyes.

-That is until you met Zerofuku, the young looking child-like god, who approached you, asking if he could help you, and your eyes widened, seeing this child and you instantly had him in your arms, holding him close.

-He didn’t know why you were crying, but it wasn’t a sad type of cry- you looked happy, happy just to be hugging him.

-You adopted Zerofuku who had instantly beamed when you asked him, leaping into your arms, elated by the notion of having a family and you couldn’t help but smile, hugging him close.

-Zerofuku bloomed under your love, he became wiser and stronger, learning when to help others and when to let others help themselves, something Buddha had tried to teach him, but he was too distraught to listen then.

-While he did not fill the void in your heart that your son left, Zerofuku filled a large portion of it, making it easier to heal, but you knew you would never heal completely.

-There were many others, gods and humans alike, who knew of your tale, knowing of what you had lost and what you were doing for Zerofuku, they found it admirable, seeing you healing yourself while helping others- it was humbling.

-However, in Ragnarok, many could only sympathize with you again, watching your son taken over by a monster- a demon, who was fighting Buddha.

-Buddha was trying his best, wanting to defeat the demon and get Zerofuku back, something he had shouted up to you, swearing he was going to try.

-Kojiro was holding you back as your screamed out Zerofuku’s name, seeing Buddha severely injure him and Hajun, who was going to attack froze, like something was holding him back.

-Your eyes and Buddha’s one good eye now saw the spirit of Zerofuku holding Hajun back, glaring harshly, “Don’t hurt him!!”

-Buddha managed to land a final blow and your watched, tears in your eyes, as Hajun faded, leaving the body of your son behind. You felt like you couldn’t breathe and as Buddha approached, Zerofuku beamed before he started crumbling away as well.

-Feeling the same feeling when your son died, but even more so, as you now had to relive it- you felt like dying, everything hurt, you felt like you couldn’t breathe!

-Zerofuku smiled as you broke down, Kojiro holding you close as he turned to Buddha, “Take care of my mama okay?” Buddha was crying as well, not wanting the child to go as he choked out a response, “I will!”

-Your shoulders were shaking as you were hunched over, crying so hard that you were gasping and Kojiro tried his best to calm you, but in the end it was Hrist who had to knock you out before they took you to the infirmary.

-You woke in tears, thinking it was just a bad dream until you saw Buddha there, bandaged up, and you nearly shrieked, unable to comprehend losing your child before Buddha lunged, hugging you close, letting you clutch at him as he did the same to you.

-He had no idea what you were feeling- dealing with losing two children now, all he could do was be there for you, being your rock, holding you close, while you just wanted your pain to end- you wanted it to stop. You couldn’t stand feeling like this, not again.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror buddha #ror kojiro sasaki #ror zerofuku

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theroyalhouseofwindenburg · 6 months

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In the year 1340, with the relentless approach of winter, a somber cloud of foreboding cast its shadow over Bagley Castle. Beneath a moonlit snowstorm, the royal family of Bagley convened in King Thomas's chambers. His grace lay gravely ill, a pale reflection of the powerful monarch he had been. Queen Priscilla, his devoted wife, cradled her ailing husband in her arms, the fever coursing through him like a relentless tempest.

King Thomas's children, Prince Henry, his wife Princess Philippa, their young son Harold, and Thomas's youngest daughter, Princess Corrine, stood by, sharing a somber vigil. Queen Cordelia, Thomas's eldest daughter and the Queen of Windenburg, was also present. They had all come to bid farewell to their father, a truly remarkable man who had forged a sprawling empire, shaping their destinies into the annals of history. Amidst the quiet desperation of the chamber, Prince Henry held his sister Corrine close, a pillar of strength as she wept into his shoulder, unable to witness their once indomitable father in such a weakened state.

In a poignant moment of lucidity, Thomas summoned his son. Henry, his heart heavy, approached the bedside, gently taking hold of his father's frail, cold hand. Amid the vulnerability of illness, Thomas's eyes held paternal pride and deep affection as he praised his son.

In heartfelt words, Thomas spoke of his belief in Henry's potential to be a resolute and capable King after his own time had passed. In this solemn exchange, Henry pledged his unwavering commitment to honor his father's legacy and to serve the Kingdom with the utmost devotion.

Then, with waning strength, Thomas called his eldest daughter, Queen Cordelia, to his side. He professed his profound love for her and offered paternal counsel. He urged her to remain vigilant regarding her husband's actions and to watch over her younger brother. Cordelia, with a gentle caress, reassured her father. She spoke with the wisdom of a seasoned queen, promising that he would witness the sunrise for many more days to come.

Yet on the following morning, an unmistakable shift in the atmosphere settled over Bagley. It was an eerie silence, a void, which resounded with the loss left in the wake of King Thomas's passing. Queen Priscilla, her heart shattered, had been a witness to her beloved's final breath. At the age of 59, King Thomas of Bagley had departed from this world, leaving behind a kingdom and a family forever changed.

In the solemn quiet, with grief etched upon every face, the royal family paid their final respects to their fallen patriarch. The king was dressed in his resplendent regal attire, his presence preserved for eternity. As his family grieved, they knew that the burden of the realm now lay on the shoulders of the new king.

With King Thomas's body carried to The Cathedral of Saint Jacob, all eyes in the room turned toward the newly anointed King Henry and his queen, Philippa. They realized that the weight of leadership had descended upon them, a duty they would bear together. King Henry gazed into the future, fully aware of the challenges and responsibilities that awaited him. He pledged to be a just and equitable ruler, upholding his father's legacy in the grand tapestry of history.

In the days that ensued, the solemn mourning that had hung in the air within the grand halls of The Cathedral of Saint Jacob transformed into jubilant cheers. This time, the occasion was the coronation of King Henry and Queen Philippa. As the archbishop reverently lowered the crown upon Henry's head, the young king felt the physical and metaphorical weight of his impending reign.

Then, with grace and dignity, he turned to Queen Philippa and gently placed the radiant queen's crown upon her head. In a touching moment, a smaller, exquisitely crafted crown was positioned upon the head of their young son, Prince Harold. These regal rituals marked the commencement of a new era for the realm of Bagley.

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suzannahnatters · 1 year

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Ok so I wrote a whole steampunk trilogy about these two bejewelled idiots

so let me tell you about George V and Mary ("May") of Teck.

From the photo - woman dressed like a wedding cake, man wearing the Milky Way - you might think that this is a picture of privilege.

Well, yeah. You're right. Mostly.

Her name was Princess May, and she was Europe's least eligible spinster.

Although she was of royal blood, May was descended from a "morganatic" marriage - her grandfather on her father's side had married a commoner - in fact, a countess (gasp!) - on condition that their children would not inherit his small German duchy. May's two aunts never married, because no self-respecting German prince would be seen dead in a ditch marrying the offspring of a mere countess. May's father got lucky because over in England, Queen Victoria was struggling to cope with her cousin, MARY ADELAIDE. Mary Adelaide was fat, thirty-two, unmarried, more popular than the queen, and completely uncontrollable. Under the circumstances, the discovery of an unattached prince too beggarly to be picky was an absolute godsend. The English were too broadminded to care about the countess, and nobody else (as someone joked unkindly) would "venture on so vast an undertaking."

The marriage was happy, but extravagant. By the time May was 16, the family was so deeply in debt that they had to run away from England to avoid their debtors. For the next two years they lived in Italy, where May was able to get an excellent education in art history, languages, singing, and painting.

After returning to England, May took an interest in visiting the poor and collecting funds for charities. Serious, diligent, and intelligent, May hoped that one day she would have an important role to play in the world…but how? She was not royal enough to marry into royalty, but she was much too royal to marry beneath her.

It was Queen Victoria who decided to play the fairy godmother. One day, quite unexpectedly, she invited May to join her at Balmoral. Several days later, Prince Eddy also arrived. Eddy was Victoria's grandson, third in line to the throne, and thus (if you overlooked the affairs with married women, and the scandals, and the venereal disease, and the sub-zero IQ) the most eligible bachelor in the whole British Empire. In Victoria's opinion, what the future King of England needed most was a good, smart, steady wife. She'd already tried to arrange several other matches for Eddy, including one with Princess Alix of Hesse (who would go on to marry Tsar Nicholas II of Russia, a match which would in no way help to precipitate a violent revolution and end in a hail of bullets, blood, and diamonds), but all of them had failed. Now, she thought May would do.

Perhaps May thought it was her only chance to achieve lasting financial security. Possibly she agreed with Victoria that the future of the British Royal Family depended on Eddy marrying someone with half a brain. Maybe she even hoped for love. When Eddy proposed, May accepted.

Just weeks before the wedding, May was staying at Sandringham for Eddy's 28th birthday celebrations when he came down with influenza. The next day, he developed pneumonia. Five days later he was dead.

More than a hundred years later, we can be excused for looking back and feeling that both May and the whole British Empire dodged a significant bullet there. To Eddy's family, it was a crushing tragedy. One who mourned him was Eddy's younger brother, a steady, hard-working, unimaginative naval officer named George. Prince George was not just dull as dishwater and nearly as badly educated as his brother, he was also significantly healthier, smarter, and more disciplined. Now, with George taking Eddy's place as heir to the throne, many immediately began to think that George should take Eddy's bride as well. After all, Queen Victoria had already gone to the trouble of vetting and approving May, and why should all that work go to waste?

Among those who thought so were May's own parents. When Eddy's family went on holiday to the south of France to grieve in peace, May's parents packed up their daughter and followed. George dutifully called on the family, and over the next few months, as May travelled around Europe, she and George corresponded via letter. Emotionally constipated as he was, George had grown used to writing heartfelt notes to his deaf mother. May was also painfully shy. Signs were against them, but the two managed to become engaged in 1893 after significant prodding from both their families. Shortly afterwards, they exchanged these hilariously awkward letters:

MAY: I am very sorry that I am still so shy with you. I tried not to be so the other day, but alas failed, I was angry with myself! It is so stupid to be so stiff together and really there is nothing I would not tell you, except that I love you more than anybody in the world, and this I cannot tell you myself so I write it to relieve my feelings.

GEORGE: Thank God we both understand each other, and I think it really unnecessary for me to tell you how deep my love for you my darling is and I feel it growing stronger and stronger every time I see you; although I may appear shy and cold.

The rest, of course, is history. George married May in 1893 and in 1910 they succeeded to the throne as King George V and Queen Mary of Teck. In between ruling the colonies with a rod of iron (George), amassing a small fortune in fabulous diamonds (May), and wearing some of the era's most luscious fashions (both) the two of them remained as deeply in love as ever. When George took a dive in a newfangled invention named a submarine, May, standing on the Portsmouth quay, could not repress a passionate effusion of concern:

"I shall be very disappointed if George doesn't come up again."

ALSO May had a dollhouse that was a miniature copy of their home! The library contained VERY TINY BOOKS by literary luminaries such as Oscar Wilde and Rudyard Kipling! AND over the bed in the main bedroom there was a tiny sign hanging - "May George? - George May." I'm sorry but I love them. I'm not sorry at all for all the grand silly fun I had writing them both in Miss Sharp's Monsters. Though I'm afraid that at no stage was the real Princess May impersonated by a clever clockwork automaton containing a bomb intended to blow up Queen Victoria. I made that part up.

#history #miss sharp's monsters #the werewolf of whitechapel #mary of teck #george v #historical fiction #gothic #steampunk #gaslamp fantasy #victorian #1800s #1890s #bete epoque #late 1800s

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