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laurafett · 3 years

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Unfamiliar Fruit

PART ONE

Friends to lovers, sex pollen Boba Fett x f reader

Words: 10k

- You and Boba are guests in a palace on a different planet. The King serves you some strange food, with the intetion of doing both of you a favour -

No mentions of pronouns, hair or skin color, sexuality. Also, let’s pretend that there is underwear in space. Minors, do NOT interact!!

Warnings: smut, fluff, age gap (reader is 18+), mentions of food and eating, masturbation (m and f), comlink sex, pain due to sex pollen, slight voice kink

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Why did you always let yourself get dragged into some bantha shit like this? You were dirty, sweaty and smelled like the inside of a Tauntaun. Boba told you this was going to be a short hunt for which he needed your help. Just one bounty he would have to hunt and collect. He said it would take about two or three days. Yeah, no shit. You were sitting on this Marker forsaken planet for almost two weeks now because Boba found some new connections for his business on Tatooine.

He didn't want you to get into trouble so you had to stay in Slave I almost every day. You had no clean clothes, the water tank for the shower was already empty and soon you would be out of food too.

You sat in this tiny, dirty ship while the bounty hunter probably was living in a big, glamorous palace at the other side of the town. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, letting out a sight as you tried to find a comfortable position in the pilots seat. This was where you spent most of your days, sitting in the cockpit while looking out of the big window in front of you.

It was a green planet, with lots of trees and fields of grasses. It was a welcome sight after spending so much time on Tatooine. The air here was cool and fresh, but it was not exactly cold. The small forests shielded the ship from the sun, so that it always had a comfortable temperature in the ship. At least that was something nice about your current location.

Another nice thing was there was a river which’s stream led behind the big city walls. On some particular hot days, you used the water there to cool down your body. You watched how the water disappeared as soon as it reached the high built bricks that were put there to shield the town and the people there from any kind of intruders.

You couldn't see much of the city because the ship was stationed some miles away from it. You guessed it was old, from the way the walls looked. In all your days here you never saw a person leaving or entering through the massive wooden doors. It made you wonder if the town was really so big to have everything they needed, so no one ever had to leave this place.

Tearing your eyes away from the mysterious town in front of you, you looked into the sky. Only a few more hours before the sun would start to set and you would have another silent night all by yourself.

If you were on Tatooine you would have spent time with Fennec during your sleepless nights, her never seeming to sleep much as well. But no, you were here. And you were bored to death. There wasn't even anything to read on Boba’s ship, so you had no other option other than to sit around and keep staring holes into the air.

Right when you were about to get lost in some thoughts again, your datapad received a message from your absent partner. Your back straightened and you leaned forward to read it.

“We will leave soon, only one or two more days.

They invited you for dinner tonight as well,

you also get a proper quarter to sleep in.

Be here before the sun sets.

Take the ship with you, there is a place near the palace

where you can land it. Be careful.”

You almost started crying at the thought of a real bed and real food waiting for you. “Thank the Maker.”, you mumbled to yourself before you checked that everything on the ship was secured so nothing would break during your flight. It didn't take long for you to start the ship and fly directly in the direction of the big castle-like building.

Only five minutes later you landed the ship near the palace and some people were already coming out of the ancient building. You grabbed your blaster before leaving the ship and walked towards the other people. They greeted you by bowing in front of you. Eyebrows lifted in surprise, you looked back down at them.

There was an older man with brown skin and dark hair, some strands already whitening. His mouth was almost hidden by a big, long beard that went down to his throat, but you were able to make out a small smile on his lips. He wore a purple robe, so long that the end of it was covering the ground behind him. Some golden chains covered his chest and he wore rings on almost every finger.

He was in the company of four young women, covered in light yellow cloaks. You were able to see their faces, all of them smiling at you. Each one seemingly more beautiful than the others. Now you could understand why Boba spent so much time here.

“You must be the partner of the great Boba Fett.” The man in front of you began speaking, “We are glad to have you here. All our guests get only the best. We’ve prepared your quarters for the night and one of my maids will show you the way so you can refresh yourself before dinner.”

The old man pointed at a young woman with curly hair, who was smiling at you.

“Thank you, that's really nice.” was all you could say in your current state of surprise.

“Nothing to thank us for. We made a really good deal with your partner so it is a pleasure for us to have you here.” The man nodded slowly and you gave him a weak smile. These people were way too friendly to make a deal with Boba. You hoped he would explain this to you when you see him.

“Follow me, I will show you your room.” The young woman said and waved her hand for you to follow her.

The palace was gigantic. Many statues and old art were all over the place. The statues were made out of white stone, portraying people you didn't know, probably warriors. Strong bodies, perfectly chiseled into different kinds of material, telling a story you've never heard before. Paintings covered the high walls, showing many faces. Some of them looked like normal citizens like farmers, children, or the whole families portraits. Others picturing royals, queens and kings, princes and princesses.

The two of you walked through an uncountable amount of rooms and corridors. And after almost ten minutes of walking the woman turned around, looking at you. She opened the doors on your left and your eyes widened in shock. The room they prepared for you was bigger than any house you had ever lived in. It was filled with old furniture, a gigantic bed, a big balcony and a probably enormous bathroom behind a closed door. The maid walked into the room with you being directly behind her. She went over to a large closet and opened it to reveal that it was full of beautiful clothes made out of the best material in the galaxy. One of your hands rose to touch the silky fabric of one of the dresses.

“These are for you to wear. We asked your partner for your size and I hope there is something that fits in here. If not, feel free to tell me and we will get you something else.” You slowly nodded while looking through the amount of different clothes. “The King wants you to wear anything you feel comfortable in but would be happy if you would wear something more festive for dinner.” You looked over to her and she smiled at you again.

“Dinner will be ready in about two hours. Feel free to use the bathroom and clean yourself up.” She slowly made her way to the door, “And if you need anything, please let me know and we will be happy to help you.”

“Thank you.” was all you could say before she left the room.

Now being on your own, you slowly walked through the chambers, trying to take in every detail. The walls were a light rosé and sky blue curtains hung beside the windows. All the furniture was made out of dark wood. A small glass table stood in the corner of the room with some books on top. The bed was covered in white sheets and pillows and was large enough to allow 4 people, maybe even more, to sleep comfortably.

You walked out onto the balcony and gasped. You had a great view over the whole city. It wasn't the biggest you have ever seen, but definitely one of the most beautiful ones. Everything looked more like a big garden than a place where people lived. Old, small houses were blooming like mushrooms between a field of grass. Many fields covered the space underneath the palace.

People stood in front of their houses, talking to each other. Children were playing hide and seek, laughing so loud even you could hear it. The lights were turned on in almost every house and you could see some farmers bringing the harvest they collected over the day into the warmth of their homes. This place was really beautiful.

And now, as the sun slowly started to set, it looked even more aesthetically pleasing. You looked down into the court of the palace and saw Boba. He was taking a walk with the man you talked to when you arrived. Hopefully he would tell you what this was all about as soon as you had some alone time with him.

After standing and watching the city for some more moments, you went back inside and into the bathroom. Just as you thought it was just as big as everything else. Covered in white tiles, a marble bathtub, a shower beside and a big sink with a mirror and any kind of makeup you could think of. You never really used something like this, but maybe tonight was a good night to try it.

You stripped out of your dirty clothes and quickly got into the shower. The warm water ran down your body and you couldn't help yourself but moan at the relaxing feeling. After cleaning yourself completely, you just had to stay under the warm water for just a bit longer.When you finally had enough, you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. With one hand you grabbed one of the soft towels, wrapping it around your body.

Entering the bedroom once more you walked over to the big closet and searched through it. You opened one of the drawers, instantly moving back in surprise. It was full of some of the most expensive and beautiful lingerie you have ever seen. Did Boba tell them to get those for you? Curiously you looked through them, soon realizing that all of them were exactly your size. How could he know what size you wore? But before you were able to think much further, your eyes caught a glimpse of a beautiful, dark green lace set.

You pulled it out of the drawer, taking the time to really look over it. It was gorgeous. Without thinking too much, you dried your body and tried on the underwear. You weren't insecure about your body or anything, but you were still afraid that it might not look as good as you imagined. With small steps you walked in front of the big mirror beside the closet and looked at your figure. Holy shit. You looked fucking hot. The bra fitted perfectly around your breasts and you were able to see through it a little bit. The panties wrapped themselves around your ass without covering too much. You were speechless. How could've Boba guessed your size so perfectly?

Before putting on more clothes you went back into the bathroom to do your hair and make up. And while doing that your thoughts started to wander.

You always had a thing for Boba. From the day you agreed to work with him to this current moment. The both of you met while searching for a bounty. He got attacked by several men at the same time and you hopped in to help him. He was impressed, to say at least. You joked about saving his life and how he would owe you something.

The bounty hunter was almost speechless at that moment. You weren't afraid of him. You knew who he was, but you weren't afraid, not in the slightest. He was almost sure he could like you until it turned out that both of you were going after the same bounty. Boba tried to tell you that you had no right to go after this man and that he would kill you if you still tried to, but the only thing you said was:”Are you afraid of losing, old man?”

And that is how it started. You were able to catch the first bounty. Boba was angry about it, but he would never tell that he was almost as much impressed by your fighting and hunting skills. Those games continued for weeks. Every time you met each other on a planet, searching for a bounty, you made a contest out of it.

He would never admit it, but he loved it. He loved to see you getting lost in your hunting instincts and trying to get whoever you were looking for. He loved seeing you fight, you were much stronger than you looked. But mostly he loved to see your euphoric smile when you showed him the bounty you just caught. Of course he would never admit that to you, but he loved spending this time with you.

But things got more stressful on Tatooine and he had to stay there for a certain amount of time, dealing with his business. You two didn't see each other anymore and it drove both of you crazy. You listened to every conversation about Boba to find out where he was right now, secretly hoping to see him again as soon as possible.

Until one day, you received a message from the King of the Underworld himself. He said that he would need more good bounty hunters in his palace and offered you a job at his side. Obviously, you couldn't say no, so the next day you made your way to the palace to start working with him and his right hand Fennec.

The three of you got along pretty well and work seemed to be as easy as never before. The only thing disturbing the good climate you had in the palace was the never ending tension between you and Boba. You didn't know what exactly the reason was for this undeniable tension, but it drove you mad. You were attracted to him, there was no point in denying that. But you also knew that he saw you as a coworker, maybe a friend. There were other things going through his head than what was going on between the two of you. You were also sure that you just imagined all the small hints which could possibly be a sign for him returning your feelings.

Until Fennec decided to confront you. She asked you why you didn't already tell him, that it was already really obvious. You didn't know what to say and tried to deny your feelings. The only reaction she showed to your very bad lie was a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I can't wait until you both realize that each of you returns the feelings for the other one.” was the last thing she said before she walked away and it still haunted you to this day.

Your eyes were glued to the mirror in front of you while you were trying to do your eyeliner. Finally finished, you looked at yourself. Even though you didn't use makeup on a regular basis, it looked really good. Happy with your hair and makeup, you went back to the closet.

Your eyes scanned every single piece of clothing in there. What would be something acceptable to wear while having dinner with a King? One of the dresses caught your eye, but before you were able to pull it out of the closet the door to your room got opened.

Eyes widened in shock, you looked at Boba who stood in the doorway. You couldn't see it but his eyes scanned your almost naked body. He didn't even realize it but his breathing stopped as soon as he saw you. You looked absolutely stunning. Only when his eyes met yours through his visor, he realized that he was staring at you. He snapped out of his thoughts and turned around, trying to get his breathing under control.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to see if everything is alright and tell you that dinner is ready in about half an hour.” he spoke with a raspy voice.

“Okay, alright. I will be there.” You looked at his back while speaking.

Without another word Boba went out of the room and closed the door behind him. He walked down the corridor with large steps. The picture of you, just standing there in the probably hottest set of lingerie he ever saw, was burned into his mind. They asked him for your size, yes, but he never thought they would pick out something like this for you. Maker, he needed to cool down.

Entering his room, he sat down on the white sheets of his bed. Seeing you like this was completely new for him and he couldn't deny the fact that his trousers got tighter when he had scanned the length of your body. He knew you for a good amount of time now, but most of the time he had enough self-control to not imagine you in this certain kind of way. But this time, he couldn't help himself.

Pictures of your body laying underneath him flooded his mind. He wondered if the sounds you made were just as beautiful as you? Would your lips feel as soft as they look? Would you taste like- Kriff. His eyes snapped open and he let out a deep sigh. At this point, he was rock hard just by thinking of you. He needed to stop.

He knew that someone as beautiful as you and also younger than him would never share the same feelings as him. You were able to have any person you wanted, why would you choose him? He thought back when you first arrived at his palace.

The way the people eyed you. Hundreds of hungry eyes stared at you. He still remembered how glad he was that he wore his helmet, so no one could see his jealous expression. Only when you walked up to him and started talking to him, the people stopped staring at you. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to pull you onto his lap and show everyone that you belonged to him and if anyone dared to lay a hand on you, they would have to deal with Boba himself.

But you weren't his. You belonged to no one, you told him more than once. And he understood what you meant by saying this and he respected you, more than anyone else. But he still found himself alone at night, wishing you were by his side.

A knock on the door ripped him out of his daydreams.

“I just wanted to tell you that food is ready in five minutes.” A voice said through the door. After that it got silent again. Trying to get you out of his head he stood up and made his way into the dining hall. This is going to be a long night.

You stood in silence for a minute after Boba left your room. You noticed his staring, but you weren't sure if it was just because you were in your underwear or if he really thought you were attractive.

Thinking about it for a second, you decided to try your luck today. If it turned out that he wasn't interested, you could finally live in peace again. But if he was, then you were going to have a very good night.

The bounty hunter was already sitting at the table when you entered the large dinner room. You saw how his helmet turned in your direction but you couldn't see any reaction from his side. And again, Boba was very happy to wear that stupid helmet. You looked stunning. Your body was covered by a silky black dress with thin straps. It went down to your legs and hugged all your curves perfectly. He swallowed hard, almost sure everyone could hear it.

With a nervous look, you settled down in the seat beside him. You looked at his black visor and he nodded slightly. Before you could say anything the King, as you learned for the maid, stood up and began to speak.

“Tonight we want to honor our guests, the great Boba Fett and his beautiful partner. Our kingdom was able to make a deal from which we all are going to profit from and which will keep us all safe.” He raised his glass in your direction. “We hope you enjoy your meal and now, let the festivities begin.”

He brought his glass to his lips and drank one sip, before everyone else joined in.

Two big doors swung open and the staff brought in the food. You almost couldn't believe your eyes. So many different kinds of food, mostly things you didn't even know. Your stomach started rumbling at the sight of all the different courses. With wide eyes, you looked at Boba once more. He didn't notice because he was in the middle of taking off his helmet. You were about to stop him, but it was already too late. He never let his enemies or business partners see his face, but by the reaction of the other people in this room it wasn't the first time they saw him. He turned his face to you and mustered you with a confused look.

“What's the matter?” His eyes fixed on yours while he was trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“Nothing. Don’t worry.” You shook your head slightly.

Bringing your eyes back to the food in front of you, you couldn't stop yourself from starting to eat. So many different vegetables and fruits. All the different variations and sauces. You moaned when the first piece of food found its way into your mouth. This was the best feeling you've ever experienced.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Boba watched you and a small smile tugged at his lips as he saw your satisfied expression when you finally started eating.

Without even trying to hold back you ate as much food as you could. Each dish was better than the other and you were almost overwhelmed at all the different choices.

You were still eating even after all the others finished their meal, but you didn't care. You had no good food in weeks and to be completely honest, the food on Tatooine wasn't the best either.

Shoving the last piece of food into your mouth you fell back into your seat, holding your tummy. You were stuffed, to say the least.

“Finished already? Don't you want to lick the plates of all the others clean too?” Boba smirked at your exhausted figure, bringing his glass to his lips.

You gave him a playful annoyed look, but couldn't hold back your laugh. The corners of his mouth raised around the glass.

Before you were able to reply something the other man beside you started talking to you. You were so caught up in getting food inside your stomach that you didn't even talk to anyone in here. So you gladly interacted in the conversation the other man tried to build up.

Turns out this planet was one of the only ones which stayed completely out of the war that happened some years ago; which was impressive because almost no planet was able to stay out of those kinds of politics. But this was the reason why everything here was so old. They never had to rebuild anything because nothing ever got destroyed. Maybe by accident on occasion but never due to war. The people who lived here had one of the oldest environmental systems in the galaxy, which is the reason why you didn't recognize most of the food. It's local and you are not able to get it on any different planets. You wondered if Boba made a deal about some kind of spices, but he was more than a spice smuggler. That would make no sense.

Suddenly, in the middle of the conversation, someone came up behind you and sat a new plate in front of you. On it was a fruit, you also didn't recognize. It had thick skin and was bright yellow. You looked around and saw that Boba and you were the only one with this kind of food on their plates. With a confused look you turned your head to him but he just shrugged his shoulders, signaling you that he also had no idea what kind of fruit that was.

“We decided to give you some of our rarest food on the planet. It is hard to grow and actually is the only fruit we sometimes sell to other planets. But after everything you will be doing for us, I think you deserve to get a taste.”, the King spoke and looked at the two of you. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination but all the other people in the room looked at you with a smirk on their face. As if they knew something you didn't.

There was no room left in your stomach, you were full. But after everything the man said, you didn't want to be rude, so you took your fork and tried a small piece of the yellow food in front of you.

Before you even started chewing it, you tasted how sweet it was. Too sweet. You grimaced at the overwhelming taste. It was like nothing you ever tasted before. It gave your tongue a tingling sensation but also made it numb at the same time. The juice that squished out of it when you bit it, immediately ran down your throat. You desperately tried to hold back a cough. With one big gulp, you swallowed the piece of fruit and laid your fork back down.

Side-eyeing Boba, you saw that he wasn't impressed by the taste either. Just now you realized that all eyes in the room were laid on the two of you, waiting for your reaction.

“It-” You began, clearing your raspy voice before continuing, “It tastes delicious, really. Amazing, different taste.” It was a lie and anyone smart enough would have realized but it seemed like the people didn't notice. They started smiling, bringing their attention to their own desserts.

Boba looked at you in a way that said 'You are a terrible liar.', but you didn't care as long as everyone was happy.

“I'm very glad to hear that and now eat up. We wouldn't want to waste anything of this delicate fruit.” You sent a death look into the direction of the king, but your partner nudged your side with his elbow.

“Eat up. You don't want to be rude, do you?” Your death glare wandered directly to Boba and he smirked at you. Cocky bastard.

With a disgusted look on your face you took the fork again and started eating the fruit.

Soon it was much later in the evening but you didn't notice the passage of time because you were actually having some nice conversations with the people from the city. You talked about the wars, the way this planet stayed out of them, the story of how you became a bounty hunter and joined Boba.

Your eyes wandered into the direction of said bounty hunter more than once that night. Sure, he wasn't someone to talk much, especially about his feelings, but you couldn't deny the feeling of disappointment that he didn't even acknowledge the way you looked tonight. The small amount of hope in you wasn't strong, but it was surely gone by now. Forcing your eyes away from him, you started listening to the story one of the women in front of you was currently telling.

Boba didn't feel well. It wasn't the amount of strangers around him or the fact that he probably ate too much, no. It was the fact that you turned heads in this room. From more than just one or two people.

But well, he couldn't blame them. Your body looked like art in the dress you were wearing. He asked himself what the reason was, for your choice of looks tonight. Did you want to impress someone? Boba knew you had your fair amount of affairs. It had been revealed after you two along with Fennec drank too much spotchka one night and talked about your sex lives. He still didn't know how that happened.

Anyway, even though he knew you weren't his, he tried to keep everyone away from you that showed just the slightest bit of interest in you. He knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't stand the thought of someone else touching you. Was this the reason you were dressed like this? Did you want to hook up with someone from the palace?

He shook his head. He had no reason to think about your intimate relationships with others; he had no right to judge or decide over your choices. But the more he let his mind wander, more thoughts of you popped up in his head. And one of the thoughts was the picture of you in your underwear. Again.

Suddenly, he felt hot. Not in the way he felt when he was angry or embarrassed, but actually hot. So hot that he started sweating. He looked around to find a reason why the temperature suddenly had changed in here but it seemed like no one else noticed. He tried to adjust himself in the chair. It felt like his armor got two sizes smaller and he wasn't able to breathe. Different parts of his body began to tingle and he was sure he would pass out. His body quickly raised from his seat, to get out of the room but the second he stood, he couldn’t move due to the feeling of dizziness that held him. Boba stood there for a second before he made his way out of the dinner hall.

Your eyes fell on his quickly moving body and the way the look on his face seemed alarmed. Something told you to follow him. Without excusing yourself, you left your seat and made your way up to him. Before he was able to leave the room, you reached for his arm and stopped him. He turned to you, his eyes wide in shock.

“Boba, are you alright? You look terrible.” The look on your face was concerned and you glanced at him through your lashes. He stared at you, not without noticing how his eyes started to wander over your body.

“I- umm...” He stopped his rambling when he felt a painful sting in his lower belly, his erection forming in his pants. What was wrong with him?

“Kriff.” was all he said, looking around to see if anyone was staring at the two of you. Luckily no one seemed to care about the fact that the two of you were standing away from the table.

Without thinking, Boba grabbed your waist and pulled you a little closer to him. You were so surprised. You couldn't think of anything to say. He lowered his head so his mouth was directly at your ear.

“We are leaving tomorrow morning, be ready. I'm going to bed now and you should too, Princess.” Not a second later, he released his grip on you and was gone.

Princess. The word rang through your ears. It was almost as if you could still feel his hands on you. A shiver ran down your shine when you thought about his breath hitting your sweaty neck. Lost in your thoughts you still looked at the door he left through.

A sharp pain in your stomach shook you out of your trance. You flinched at the feeling, wondering what that was. But a moment later, you felt a burning heat in your core and the feeling spread through your whole body. You grew even hotter than before. Maybe Boba was right. You should go to bed.

It was harder than you thought to find your way back to your quarters. The fact that your legs got weaker with every step and the slightly dizzy feeling in your head wasn't helping either. You stumbled through the corridors, hoping to soon find your stupid room. Who needs a palace that big anyway?

After some more minutes, you were sure you finally arrived. About to open the door to your room, you heard a strange sound coming from a chamber down the hall. You stayed still, to see if it wasn't just your head trying to trick you.

“Dank Farrik!”

Even though your whole body was aching at this point, you followed the sound. A loud groan came out of one room and you realized it was Boba. A little bit faster than before, or at least as fast as you were able to go, you went to the door the sound was coming from. Your mind clouded from the heat and pain taking over your body as you knocked.

“Boba?” Your voice was weak and raspy as if you had been screaming for hours straight. Nothing happened, so you tried again. “Are you alright? I heard some noise-”, a sore, deep voice cut you of.

“I'm... I'm alright.” A sore, deep voice cut you off. On the other side of the door, the man struggled to speak. His throat felt so dry as if he had wandered through the dunes of Tatooine for days without a single drop of water. Every part of his body arched and he panted, not being able to breath properly.

When he entered his room some moments ago, he got rid of his armor, tossing it carelessly onto the floor and falling down onto the bed. He didn't feel dizzy anymore but there was pain, almost as bad as in the sarlacc, flowing through his body and especially into his abandonment. He was hard, harder than ever before and it hurt. Scared of touching himself, of making the pain even worse, he just kept laying there, hoping that the pain would go away. No luck yet.

There was a white noise in your ears and you almost didn't hear what he said. His voice sounded so breathy; you were afraid he was hurt. You tried to steady yourself by holding on to the doorknob. You felt like you were about to pass out, but you still wanted to make sure that everything was alright.

“Are you s... sure? It doesn't sound like it.” It almost hurt to speak.

You heard a terrifying growl from the other side of the door.

“Fucking hell. I'm doing fine and now go to bed.” Boba shouted.

Too dizzy to be shocked or to show any reaction towards his tone you slowly made your way back to your quarters. Barely able to find the strength to push the door open, you almost fell into the room. The pain got even worse and couldn't hold your body up any longer. You felt your legs carry you across the room so you could collapse on the bed, groaning loudly as your body landed on the mattress. Your mind wasn’t able to form any kind of rational thought. The only thing you were aware of was the pain in your body and the growing wetness between your legs.

You had no idea what was going on, only realizing that you started to become incredibly needy. With all the force you could muster in the moment, you rubbed your thighs together to create even the smallest amount of friction. You almost started cringing when you felt how just wet you were. Maker, what was wrong with you?

The pressure from your thighs wasn't enough. Your panties were already soaked, even without anyone touching you. Slowly, you let one of your hands go between your legs. Your body jumped at the first light touch and an obscene moan left your mouth. Holding your other hand over your mouth, you carefully started to touch yourself.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on giving yourself some kind of pressure pleasure, but it didn't work. The pain was still there and it seemed like it wasn't about to leave any time soon. Starting to move your hand faster, to find your way to the desperately needed climax, you heard the sound of your wet cunt.

You’ve never been this wet. Especially without anyone touching you. Your thoughts drifted to Boba. Him calling you princess surely couldn't be the reason for the mess between your legs. You wanted to fuck him, but you weren't that affection starved. Or were you?

Thinking about your partner brought you closer to your own orgasm. Two of your fingers circled around your clit and started to become sloppy as you grew closer to your release. Your eyes stayed shut, trying to imagine something that would help you. You thought of Boba, sitting on his throne, legs wide and taking every inch of space in the big seat. The way he looked so dangerous, just by doing nothing then looking around the room. How often you thought about riding him in that position. You on top of him, his large hands on your hips. You would be completely naked for him while he still wore his armor, feeling the cold beskar against your heated skin. His body would tense underneath yours while he pounded into you, calling you his good girl.

You were so close, you could feel the familiar heat rising. Just one or two more seconds.

“Hey. Are you here? Can you hear me?” Your hand moved from your core as fast as possible. Shooting your eyes into the direction of the door, but it was still closed. A groan left your mouth. You were so close and the pain was still so present in your body, you were probably imagining things.

Just as you were about to continue, the voice rang through the room again. You tried to sit up, looking around, searching for the reason you were able to hear him.

“Are you mad at me? Dank- I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you.” Boba sounded like he was out of breath. Your eyes landed on the pile of clothes on the floor. Sure, your comlink. On shaky legs, you walked to your old clothes and took the small speaker from your belt.

You were afraid to say something. Did he hear you? You were embarrassed. He was your coworker and you just almost had an orgasm while thinking about him.

“Boba.” The only thing leaving your mouth, in a breathless voice, was his name. You weren't able to say more, afraid that he might sense what you just did.

The man in the other room was still laying on his bed. He didn't trust himself to stand up. His heavy breathing was the only sound around him. His fist clenched around the comlink, after he heard you speaking. Your voice sounded just as weak as his, you must feel the same reaction as he did.

Boba has been to a lot of planets and different cities, but this feeling was new to him. He knew what the cause for this was, probably. The fruit contained a certain type of pollen. He heard about them, about the stuff they do to the ones eating it. It was almost like an aphrodisiac, people would get desperate for any kind of sexual interaction, just to make the pain go away. And he also knew that the pain would fade much faster, if you would do something about it and even better, not by yourself.

The sound of you whispering his name through the speaker made his hips twitch. He would never act on the feelings he had right now, especially not with you. You were too important to him and he would never forgive himself if he lost you due to his needy brain and body. But he couldn't stop thinking about you. The fact that you felt the same exact pain he did in this moment, made it even worse.

“Are you... are you alright?” Your quiet voice cut through his thoughts. Maker, why did your voice have to sound so fucking desperate? He shuts his eyes close, trying to stay focused.

“Yes, I think so. What about you?”

“No. No, I think something is wrong with me.” Boba's eyes snapped open again when he heard you were crying. “I- I don't know why, but everything hurts. Kriff, it hurts so bad Boba. I don't know what to do.” By now your voice was almost unrecognizable, it was shaky and blurred from your crying.

The heart of the bounty hunter sank deep in his chest. He didn't want you to go through this. “Okay, try to calm down. You got this, try to ignore it.” He almost laughed at himself. There was no way to ignore it and he knew that.

“Are you kidding me? Try to ignore it? Boba, it feels like my whole body is on fire, I can't just pretend I don't feel that shit.” There was a hint of annoyance in your voice and he couldn't blame you. He was better at controlling his body in general and it was still hell for him. He couldn't even imagine how you felt. “You know what, I'm coming over, right now.”

“No!” He screamed the word into the communicator in his hand. With all his strength, he sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. There was no way he would spend this time with you. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if you were with him.

“Boba, what the he-”

“I know what might help you.” His tone was low and calm, trying not to cross a line with what he was about to say. “You need to touch yourself.”

Your mouth fell open. Did... did he really just say that? You stayed silent, not knowing what to say. That was what you were already doing, touching yourself, but hearing him saying those words sent goosebumps all over your body.

“Before you start to protest, yes I know it sounds strange, but believe me, it will help you.” A moment of silence fell above you before he started to speak again. “Please. I don't want you to be in this terrible pain. Do... do it for me, please.”

You weren't able to stop the whine that left you after hearing his words. It was too much; this whole situation was too much for you. Your body was aching and you knew that your hands would never be able to sooth the pain and growing heat between your legs.

“Boba, I-” He cuts you off once again.

“S- stop saying my name like that, please. I will not be able to control myself if you keep doing that.” You felt even more heat rising in your body at his words. “Just... just try to do what I just told you.”

Without letting go of the comlink, you sneaked your hand under your dress once again and into your wet folds. You moaned at the feeling. There was a hiss, coming out of the speaker and you heard the man on the other end swearing.

“That's it. Just keep doing that.” Boba wasn't able to hold it back anymore, freeing his painful hard cock from his pants. It snapped up against his tummy and he threw his head back when the cold air hit his aching member.

“Boba.” This time you moaned his name on purpose and he really had to hold himself back from cumming right there and then, “I- I can't do this on my own, please.”

At this point you didn't care how desperate you sounded or if he could hear the sounds you were making. You needed something. You needed him.

The man heard you, very well, and it drove him crazy. He put his hand around his cock, slowly starting to pump it. It didn't feel good. He didn't like to masturbate in general, but with this burning need inside him and hearing you, touching yourself, it felt even worse. The urge to touch you has never been this strong, but he needed to keep it together. You only did that because you felt the pain this fruit caused, not because you were genuinely attracted to him.

Your fingers circled your clit, but it didn't feel like it was enough. Silent tears were still streaming down your face because you couldn't build up the friction you really needed. You whined in frustration.

Boba was sure he wouldn't last long if you kept making those sounds. Maker, what would he give to see you right now. Disheveled hair, your makeup probably all over your face, your hand between your legs and eyes closed. He was sure you looked like a goddess.

“Please, Boba. I need-” He had to stop you. He couldn't listen to you with that sweet, sweet voice of yours any longer.

“Alright, okay. Just do what I tell you.” The bounty hunter didn't believe what he was about to do. He has wanted you for so long and even though you weren't with him right now, he would savor every second of this.

“Just... umm...” He stopped himself and rasped his voice. He never had a problem with being talkative during sex. He actually really liked it but with you and especially in this situation, it felt different. “Bring your middle finger and your pointing finger to your clit and start rubbing it in circles. Not too fast, to build up some good pressure.” His grip around his cock tightened at the picture of you in his head.

You did as he told you and moaned, more at the words he spoke than to the actual feeling of pleasure. Never in your life have you been this turned on, not only because of the strange feeling in your body but also by the way Boba guided you through this. You could already feel the familiar heat growing in your lower stomach again. It wouldn't take long for you to finish.

He needed a moment to breath before he continued. Your moaning and whining made his dick twitch in his hand. His thumb collected the precum that already leaked and used it to start stroking himself again.

“Now use those two fingers, slide them inside of you and start fucking yourself.” His mind was clouded with pictures of you. The sounds you made rang in his ears and he wasn't able to hold his grunting back anymore.

The two of you listened to each other, touching yourselves. Both of you would lie if they said that this wasn't the hottest thing you’ve ever done. Feelings aside, the urge to feel one another and touch each other was so present and burning as never before, it was almost worse than the actual pain in your bodies.

Your back arched as you felt yourself getting close again, but you needed to hear his voice one more time. “Boba, I'm- I'm so close... I-” He was too and your words almost sent him over the edge, but he wanted to help you reach your climax first.

“It's alright, Princess. Just l- let go.” The hand around his cock sped up. His rapid pace was almost hurtful. “Imagine it’s someone else doing that to you. Imagine your fingers are someone else's, someone you wish was touching you right now.”

An incredibly loud sound left your mouth and you began to see stars. Your legs started to twitch and shake, while a loud white noise flooded your ears. Without thinking you started to scream. “You. Fuck, I wish it was you who was touching me right now, Boba.” You cummed hard. Your toes curled, your head pressing into the mattress underneath you. The hand inside of you stopped moving and started shaking, like every other part of your body.

As you laid there panting, you slowly came back to your senses. It was silent, but the pain in your body was still as present as before your orgasm. You groaned in frustration.

“It didn't help. Fuck, Boba. The pain is still there.” You whined but there was no reaction. The other side of the comlink was completely silent. Tears build themselves up and were about to escape your already burning eyes. You fucked up. You just told him you wished he would touch you.

“Shit!” You screamed and pressed your hands flat over your face. The tears started to stream down your face faster now as you started crying again. The pain and the embarrassment took over your brain, you never wanted to see him again. He would fire you, bring you back to the planet you came from and leave you there. You started sobbing and removed the hands from your face to place one of them over your mouth to muffle your pitiful cries.

You hated yourself right now. So much so that you would rather stay in this room forever than ever have to see his face again. The moment repeated itself in your head over and over again. You didn't notice when he broke the connection, but you knew that he probably did it after the last sentence you said.

New tears formed in the corner of your eyes, but before they were able to make their way down your face the door to your room got pushed open. Your head turned to the person standing in the doorway. It was Boba, wearing nothing but his black flight suit he always wore underneath his armor. You brought up your head and steadied yourself on your elbows.

“What are you-” The man was in front of you in a matter of seconds, looking down at your weak form. You slowly sat up and stared into his dark eyes.

“Was that what you said the truth?” His voice was even deeper in person. He looked exhausted, breathing unsteadily and sweating all over his face.

“Boba, I... I don't know-” One of his hands grabbed your chin roughly and tilted your head in his direction. Your heartbeat was going faster than before. It was hammering hard against your chest. You could feel it in every part of your body.

“Just tell me if you meant what you just said, or not. Because if you did, I will help you. I- I will touch you, just the way you need it, little one.” His eyes pierced into yours. His voice sounded calm but you could see that he was just as worked up as you. “And if not, I will leave you alone. I don't want you to feel pressured to do anything you don't want to do.”

It was almost as if you forgot how to breath. His words rang through your ears and for a second you believed you passed out and all of this was a dream. But the grip around your chin proved you wrong.

“I asked you a question.” He said in a more aggressive tone. The hand on your face tugged you slightly forward and only now you became aware of his hard erection, pressing against his pants. You swallowed loudly, looking back up into his eyes. A small smirk played around his lips.

“Like what you see?” The smirk on his face grew even wider when he saw your head nodding.

“Now tell me,” He brought his body down to yours to look directly into your face, “Do you want me to touch you? Do you want me to help you get rid of the pain?”

He paused for a second and brought his face closer to yours so both of your noses were touching.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Your breathing hitched in your lungs and you felt a hot sting going through your body, going straight to your cunt. Boba drew his face away from you, just a little bit, but you already wanted to protest. Your hands rose up and grabbed his broad shoulders.

“Yes.” It was nothing more than a silent breath but the words rang in his ears as if you screamed them. “Yes, I want you to touch me and make me feel good, I- Fuck, Boba. I want you so bad.”

Without wasting another second he crushed his lips onto yours and started kissing you. The kiss was heated, fast and passionate. Teeth clenched against teeth and tongues tried their best to taste the other person. His lips were softer than you expected, they were warm and inviting. A tingling feeling made its way to your chest and you realized you never wanted this to stop.

You felt like you were in heaven and even forgot about the pain for a second, but not for long. Boba's hands were holding your face, brought it even closer to his while you did the same with your hands around his neck.

His mouth pulled away from yours as he began to wander and kiss his way down your throat. He let both of his hands slide down your body, over your breasts until he rested them at your waist. Your body arched into his touch and a whimper escaped you. The man's lips twitched into a smile, feeling proud about the reaction of your body against his touches.

With one hand on your back, he slowly started to lay you down on the bed. His body was now hovering over you and you could feel the strong heat radiating from him. Every kiss he left on your bare skin was like a small flame burning its way into your mind.

When his lips reached your cleavage he stopped and looked up to you. You looked so beautiful, a sweating, panting mess underneath him. That's everything he ever dreamed of, maybe even more.

Both of his hands ran patiently down your sides until he got to your thighs. He reached for the hem of your dress and pulled it up a little bit. His hot mouth went down your clothed body, not once breaking the eye contact.

You shivered at the sight in front of you. Every part of you felt like it was electrified and you were sure you would explode if he wouldn't start properly touching you soon.

Boba went onto his knees in front of the bed, now pulling up your dress so that the hem of it lay just above your panties. His eyes fell to the soaked green material that still covered your heat.

“Look at you. If it wasn't for the fucking fruit, I would say that you are pretty desperate for me, little one.” A wide smirk covered his face and even more heat rose into yours.

“What has the fruit to do with-” But you were cut off by the feeling of one of his thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds. Your mouth fell open in a breathless moan and your head pushed back into the white covers. Only when you heard the man in front of you humming your head came back up only to see that the finger, which was between your legs just seconds ago, was now in his mouth. His eyes found yours while he licked his finger clean, pulling it back out with a small popping sound.

“You taste fucking delicious. Better than any food anyone’s ever served me.” He smiled at you. “Even better than I've imagined.”

Your eyes widened at his words. He imagined the way you tasted? The man in front of you was about to pull down your panties, but you stopped him. He looked at you with a confused expression.

“What do you mean with 'you imagined'? Have you thought about this before? About us?” The pain was buzzing through your body, but you needed to know.

His expression softened and a small smile appeared on his face. He planted a soft kiss on your knee before talking.

“Princess, are you serious? I've dreamed about this for so long, to finally have you. To feel, taste and hear you, everything. But right now,” His lips made their way up on your inner thigh, “is not the time to talk about this. Let me soothe your pain and afterwards, we can talk about everything. I promise. Right now, I just want to taste you.”

He reached your clothed cunt and pressed a kiss on to it. His fingers reached up to the waistband of your panties. Your legs were already shaking from watching him move. You were about to tell him not to tease you when a knock on the door cut through the thick tension hanging between the both of you.

A sigh left your lungs and you fell back into the sheets underneath you. This couldn't be real. You whined, tears swelling up in your eyes again.

Boba noticed and started rubbing his hands up and down your legs. “Hey, hey. Calm down. We don't have to answer.”

It stayed silent for a while, a relieved feeling washed over your body. Boba started kissing your inner thighs again and just before he reached the spot where you needed him the most, the knock disturbed you once again.

“Kriffing hell.” The bounty hunter muttered to himself and got up. With large steps he went to the door and opened it just enough so the other person could see his face.

It was one of the maids. She looked at Boba with an apologizing look.

“I'm sorry to disturb you but our communication system received a call from your palace on Tatooine. There is a woman, called Fennec Shand and she wants to talk to you. She didn't say what it was about but she said it is urgent.”

He wanted to scream, wanted to tear down the whole palace. No, not now. His head turned into your direction. You looked at him with dove eyes, still shimmering from your previous tears. He couldn't do that now, both of you still in the middle of the reaction from this fruit. He was in pain too, but he knew it was worse for you. Turning his head he looked back at the maid.

“The woman is waiting for you.” Boba sighed. He knew it was wrong but he needed to know what Fennec thought was so urgent.

“Give me a second, I will be right there.”, he said before closing the door.

The man turned around and looked at you once more. He didn't want to go. His deepest desire, finally so close to him and his duty as the King of the Underworld keeping him away from reaching it.

“I have to go.”

“What?” Your body shot up from it's laying spot in the bed. A hand reached out to him and clutched at his sleeve. “No. No, please. You can't leave me now.”

“I have to, but it won't take long, I promise.” Boba gabbed the back of your head and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He was about to turn around, but you still didn't let go of him.

“Boba, stop. Please I- it still hurts. I can't take this anymore.” He looked at you, bringing his hand to your cheek.

“You can do it and while I'm gone you’re going to touch yourself again, you hear me? Prepare your pretty, little cunt for me and when I come back, I will give you everything you need.” Not waiting for another response from you, he freed his arm from your grip and walked out of the room.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #smut #sex pollen #the mandolorian #the book of boba fett

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yourneighborbakugou · 3 years

Text

To Love’s End, Part 1

A/N: I am a simp for medieval love stories. It took so many revisions but I’m so happy to share this first piece with you. Summary: When love isn’t enough to mold fate together. Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader Warning: angst Word Count: ~2.7k Playlist: Beautiful Japanese Piano Music

Quirkless AU! Feudal Japan AU!

Bakugou Katsuki, a fierce samurai, out to make a name for himself is joined in battle with his comrade of equal footing, Kirishima Eijirou. A fateful encounter of an enemy's supply camp while scouting for shelter in the treacherous mountain terrain changed the tide of their futures, and the war as a whole. Clashes of swords ensue at the enemy supply camp, each side giving their best to claim victory for their Kingdom and their King. With one final blow to enemy General Dabi, Bakugou stands victorious as the rain begins to settle and the sun starts to rise in the horizon. Bakugou’s chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. He wipes the blood dripping from his lips and stands using his sword. In the distance, Kirishima sits on the ground with one leg prompting him to lean on. He chuckles and grins at Bakugou.

Within minutes, friendly foes begin to fill the camp and soon after, the King himself. Rising through the ranks to be recognized as a great Samurai is no easy feat. After 3 long years for Bakugou and Kirishima, they stood tall and proud at the victory gained at the battle of Wakayama. Kneeling before King Sasaki Mirai, King Sasaki thanks the heroes for what they’ve done for the kingdom. A position in the King’s court as a daimyo (lord) was offered to the Samurai’s but they kindly declined. They were better fit to serve and protect the king with their swords than to hold a political position. King Sasaki nods in respect to the Samurai’s wishes but knows it’d be a loss for him to not have them on his side. A new offer to serve the King at his palace in Yuuei was countered. Serving the King and his court personally was an honor any Samurai can ask for. Bakugou and Kirishima bow to agree to the King’s offer.

On the day of their arrival, maid Y/N and other servants were ordered to prepare a feast to celebrate their welcoming. Bakugou didn’t like making a fuss about their new positions but the King insisted a large celebration was needed. This was something Bakugou would have to get used to while serving the King.

Bakugou and Kirishima make their way through the palace to the feast hall. Opening the doors, the smell of delicious food and overlapping chatter flood their senses. Kirishima is amazed at how large the hall is and gawks at all the beautiful court ladies. Finding their seat, Kirishima encourages Bakugou to loosen up with a few drinks of the King’s best brew. Bakugou downs the drinks and huffs in annoyance. He’d rather be in bed resting right now.

In the nearby kitchen, the palace maids have been gossiping nonstop all day about two Samurai’s making their appearance today. You grab the nearest teapot in the kitchen and gesture to the lead maid, Urakaka you were on your way to the hall. You smile and bow at your fellow maids when you exit the kitchen. Making a turn around the building, you stop to stare at the mirror hanging on the wall. You fix your beige kimono and give yourself an encouraging nod before heading in. The hall is much noisier than you expected. Mentally scouting the room, you search for the samurai’s you’ve heard so much about. In the distance, you spot an unfamiliar blonde hair and a red hair man sitting close to the King’s table. You tiptoe to get a better view as crowds of guests block the way.

“Refill please!” A court lady calls from the nearby table drawing your attention before you get a good look. You quickly make your rounds with the nearby guests and when it was the Samurai’s table next, you inhale a deep breath as you approach.

“Would you like some tea?” You bow to greet Bakugou. When your eyes meet his, he doesn’t respond. His gaze felt so intense and spellbinding. Heat quickly travels to your cheeks, unsure of what to do under his watch.

“Leave us, L/N.” court lady Ibara waves as she takes a seat next to Bakugou.

You bow as you move on to the next table. You exhale harshly, thankful Ibara had interrupted when she did. You begin to refill the guests cup and sneak a glance back at Bakugou and sure enough, those vermilion orbs were still glued to you. You bite your lower lip to hold in the butterflies.

When you entered the hall, there was a magnetic force that drew in Bakugou. Your kimono sits snug and though plain, complemented you well. Mesmerized, Bakugou leans on his arm, covering his lips as he licks them. His gaze follows you as you walks about the hall, paying no attention to Lady Ibara who was rambling on about who knows what.

Your encounters with Bakugou after this fateful day were more intoxicating than the last. Each so electrifying you swear it’s nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You don’t get many love interests and oftentimes when you find someone attractive, you know better than to initiate anything. You are after all, only a maid.

Something about Bakugou draws you in though. Like two magnets attracted to each other, your hearts thump loudly in sync whenever you’re in each other’s presence. Little things were exciting with Bakugou. Whenever you’re serving tea and your hands would accidentally graze one another, a shock, so intoxicating, would send your heart racing and make you crave for more. Vermillion and e/c orbs always searching for one another among the crowds, in passing, and any moment fate would give. Each glance he gives or the smiles he sends pulls you in more and more each time. You can’t get enough. You wonder if it’s the same for him.

Getting up in the mornings has also gotten easier since Bakugou arrived. Of all the morning duties you had, Bakugou was the reason you enjoyed laundry days the most. See, on laundry days, the likelihood of you finding a particular blonde hair man perched against a wall outside the washing room was very high. He would offer to help and insist he was ‘up early for training and didn’t mind’ whenever you asked. Truth was he liked helping you. Of course, he’d never admit this to you or that he countdown the days til laundry day.

Bakugou always displayed a tough exterior around the palace and wasn’t a man of many words. You knew now his ‘tough guy’ look was just a facade. Inside was a man who was loving and caring and boy were you falling more and more for him each day.

After a few months of adjusting at the palace, it didn’t take long however before court lady Camie took a liking to Bakugou. With the King’s approval, Camie would accompany Bakugou at all times. Having moments like before became more difficult.

You stare across the courtyard as Camie pulls Bakugou along with her.

~~~

On the first of every month, Bakugou and Kirishima head to the nearby forest for strength training. The forest offered a different terrain that would be more useful in battle. Shortly after their departure from the palace, an intruder snuck through the front gates disguised as a merchant selling fruits.

Urakaka guides the merchant and their basket of goods to the kitchen. You watch Urakaka and the merchant enter as you cut veggies. The merchant places the basket at the end of the table as instructed and walks over to Urakaka to collect the money. You study the goods in his basket and sense something wasn’t right. There were several cloth pots under all the fruits. “What’s this?” you point to them.

The merchant immediately push Urakaka to the ground and runs towards the wood-burning stove and pulls a stick with fire still ignited on one end. Ibara enters the kitchen calling for you and you panic, realizing how dangerous the situation was. “My Lady!” You run to cover Ibara as the merchant throws the fire at the wooden basket before dashing out the kitchen.

BOOOOOM!

Bakugou and Kirishima return to the palace exhausted from their training. The commotion at the front gates catches their attention. The guards inform them an intruder had attacked the palace just moments ago. They both rush to King Sasaki’s corridor’s. After confirming King Sasaki was safe and the intruder had been detained, Bakugou was able to relax alittle. There were no casualties and the doctor was already tending to the court ladies to see if anyone was hurt. Two maids walk past Bakugou and place some fresh towels and a bowl of water at the nearby table.

“Did you hear? If it wasn’t for L/N, Lady Ibara would’ve had some horrible scars.”

“Yeah, I heard she got hurt bad.”

“I feel so sorry for L/N. The doctor refused to help her.”

Bakugou’s heart sank. He rushes out of the building ignoring Kirishima’s calls. In the courtyard, he takes a moment to catch his breath and to decide which direction he should go.

The night sky is clear and the air is calm despite everything that just happened. You stop to examine how bright the full moon was tonight. As a maid, your job wasn’t only to serve the King but his court as well. You were expected to lay your life down for them if necessary. Your job was to protect Lady Ibara in that moment and you did just that. As careful as you can be, you lowered yourself to sit against a tree. The cut on your cheek sting upon touch. You hiss at the contact before examining your hands. Dirty, bloody, and littered with minor cuts from the shards of pottery that flew your way. Your tears sting as they travel past the cuts on your cheeks. You sniff as you quietly clean your wounds.

Where would Y/N be at this moment? Bakugou ran through the courtyard asking folks along the way if they’ve seen you. He then recalled a morning he found you sitting in an unused keep at the far end of the palace, reading. He ran as fast as he could and when he reached the clearing, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Bakugou’s brows crease and eyes soften when he sees you. Your kimono was burnt in parts of your skirt and apron. The closer he got, the more visible the wounds on your body were. Bakugou knew your status meant the doctor’s didn’t care enough to treat you.

“I looked everywhere for you, women.”

You're startled when Bakugou finds you. You turn to face away from him. He can’t see you like this.

Without saying a word, Bakugou takes a seat in front of you. He gently pulls the towel from your hands and motions you to face him. He examines your hands and carefully runs his thumbs over your palm. You bite your bottom lip to suppress the sting.

When Bakugou brings a hand to examine the cut on your cheek, you can’t help but feel safe in his presence. A whimper escapes your lips unknownling. The veil that held you together was falling apart to Bakugou’s touch.

“I’m proud of you.” Bakugou wipes away your tears and begins to clean your wounds.

No other words needed to be said that night.

~~~

A few weeks later, Bakugou and the rest of the Samurai depart for their usual routine mission to the north. They mount their horses and position their weapons on their back. Bakugou moves his mempo (mask) above him and catches a glimpse of you in the distance. You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, smiling as you motion a farewell to him. The slightest dent creases Bakugou’s lips as he places his mask on. You watch them trot out the palace gates and when the gates close, you turn to leave but realize Camie was watching you. In a panic, you give an awkward smile before excusing yourself back to the kitchen.

The sun rises in the horizon as your alarm clock. You stretch before rising from bed to get dressed and to clean your wounds. Wrapping a clean cloth on your palms, you make haste to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Bakugou was to return this morning. You smile making breakfast in anticipation.

Urakaka ushers you to finish up plating the food in the hall. Putting the last plate down, you wipe the sweat on your forehead as you and Urakaka make way to the front gates. A few other servants follow. Standing in front of the gates the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering. You try your best to hide your happiness and hope you’re doing a good job. Since the incident your relationship with Bakugou has changed. If he was holding back before, he no longer was now. You notice the way he’s more attentive to you, the way he was no longer scared to show he likes you. He’d smile at you across the table as you serve him tea, give you a smile from across the training grounds as walk by with the court ladies, and even helping you hang the sheets to dry on the lines.

Your smile continues to linger as the butterflies become more intense. Urakaka nudges you to look ahead and when you do, you notice in the distance figures approaching on horses. Your heart thumps at the sight. As the figures get closer and closer, your smile starts to fade.

“Get the doctor! Get the King!” A soldier screamed as he rode faster ahead of the others. You notice all the blood stains and your heart drops. You take a few steps to the right to see past the soldier and sure enough, you see Bakugou’s horse with the orange harness but it wasn’t Bakugou who was riding his horse. Your eyes widen. The worst fear plague your thoughts and you’re now running to towards the gate before you know it.

Blood, there’s so much blood. Bakugou and Kirishima were badly injured, Kirishima most of all. As the doctor tended to Kirishima, you were instructed to clean and prepare Bakugou. You make haste to Bakugou’s chambers after grabbing your supplies. When you open the door, he looks up from where he sits and when sees you, a rush of relief leaves his chest. Setting down the bowl of fresh water and towels on the table, you examine his wounds.

There were deep cuts around his torso, arms and shoulders. His face was bruised and blood was everywhere. You don’t say anything to him as you begin cleaning the blood off his face and arms. Your eyes blur as tears pool at the corner of your eyes and all you can do is sniffle. Red orbs study you with soft eyes, never looking away, nor questioning your silence.

The water bowl, now a dark red color, needed a refill. You set down the towel in hand and grab the bowl. You turn to walk away but don’t get far before you feel Bakugou’s head lean on your back.

“I thought I would never see you again.”

A tear escapes your eyes as you stiffen to the first words either of you have spoken to each other since you entered his room. Your feet, unable to react fast enough, lose it’s opportunity when you get cut off by the sound of the sliding door.

“I—” Camie rushes in with a doctor not far behind. Bakugou lifts his head and takes a moment to gather himself.

“Leave us.” Camie commands, taking the bowl from your hands.

Without another word or glance, you walk out the room. Each step heavier than the next as you leave behind the man you’d come to love. Every evening, since the King ordered mandatory bed rest for Bakugou, Cami paid a visit to Bakugou’s chambers to bring him food and rebandage his wounds.

You watched from afar each time, half wishing to know if he was okay and half wishing it was you taking care of Bakugou instead of Camie.

To be continued...

Read Part 2 here!

#bakugou x reader #feudal japan AU #Bakugou angst #bnha Bakugou #Bakugou Katsuki

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speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

Bring Him Light - viii (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: If the king can disrespect his queen so openly, surely the people can, too?

Warnings: slight injury to reader, confessions, bad timing

Word Count: 3k

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

It was inevitable. The people began to lash out at you as soon as their king did. You were an outsider, the daughter of a king who waged a war against their country. They welcomed you into Brooken in hopes of a bright future and an heir for their king. And to their knowledge, you had disappointed them. So, when your husband struck you in front of his court, it opened the door to let his subjects treat you in the same manner.

In the days that took place after the party, the respect for you had dwindled. Ladies of the court who once pulled you around to chat your ear off and were all too excited to invite you to their tea parties and to their chateaus had all stopped acknowledging you when you walked into the room. You were given smug looks and side eyed stares. Their husbands, who were all eager to carry favor with the queen in doing so with the king as well, had barely spoke to you now. Before, when they grazed your shoulder with theirs, you were bombarded with apologizes, afraid that they had hurt the king by hurting you. But all that changed the moment your delicate skin was scarred by the wedding ring that symbolized your failing marriage. Now, their bumps were intentional, and they hurt – you had bruises to prove it.

You admired one of the paintings that adorned the wall of the east end of the castle. You were rarely seen outside of your chambers and when you were, you kept to yourself. The warm, welcoming Brooken was gone. And in its place stood a cold, lonely prison.

“(Y/N),” you let out a sigh when you recognized the low, hushed voice of Brock Rumlow. Ever since the party, you had spoken to four people – Wanda, Natasha, Jean the midwife, and Brock. The friendship between you and your husband’s cousin was platonic, you made it clear to the man that you had no intentions of an affair and he seemingly agreed, not wanting to further endanger you.

He glanced around to ensure that you were both alone. He wasn’t eager for any unwanted guests to listen in. Brock strode over to you with long steps until he stood next to you. Your eyes stayed glued to the giant painting. It appeared to be a portrayal of a war that Steven’s grandfather had been a part of.

“The arrangements have been made,” he whispered. You nodded. “There’s a tower opposite your bedchamber’s windows. When you see a light, know to meet at the docks the next time the moon rises. We will use the cover of the night to escort you and your ladies safely onto a ship.”

“Thank you.” You muttered. “Really.”

He reached out and gave a comforting squeeze to your arm. His fingers trailed the scarred flesh of your wrist – a reminder of another fault King Steven has done.

When the two men were young, Brock had been groomed to take the throne because Steven had been a sickly child. He remembered his aunt being told to expect the worst, so Steven’s father had taken Brock under his wing. He convinced himself that he would’ve been the perfect king. But then a “magic” doctor from a foreign land had been brought in and a few weeks later, Steven’s illnesses were gone along with the short, skinny prince. Steven grew to be broad and tall, towering over his cousin and a lot of other men. Brock was thrown to the side as Steven regained his proper place in the court.

He grew up with jealousy as he watched his cousin get everything that was meant for him. The castle, the title, the crown… Brock hadn’t been jealous of Steven’s wives. He had his own list of lovers and was very satisfied with the women whom he shared a bed with, but then your portrait was delivered by King Anthony Stark. The young, beautiful princess of York who got to be his cousin’s wife – who would’ve been his wife if he had been on the throne.

“Of course, your grace,” he nodded.

“Is there anything else?” He shook his head and mentioned he should go for the council had a meeting in a few minutes. You smiled at him before you dismissed him, wanting to be alone. He bowed before leaving.

You thought you’d be giddy, excited upon hearing the news. Lord Pierce worked quickly, contacted the Wakanda King and negotiated you and your ladies’ safe voyage. It was all falling into place. You’d be far from Brooken so that your husband and his court couldn’t hurt you anymore and far from York where your father would’ve just sent you back to your own personal hell.

But you weren’t happy. You were taking your unborn child away from its father. You were stealing away a kingdom’s heir. For what? Because you were unhappy in your marriage? Because your husband had hurt you? They were good reasons to leave. So, why weren’t you relieved?

After long minutes of silence and contemplating, you heard a tutting. With a frown, you turned around and saw one of the noblewomen, Lady Leah Nightingale, emerge from the shadows. She had been one of the women who took back her invitation to her chateau – it wasn’t as if you had any intentions of riding off to the outskirts of southern Brooken to go either way.

“Lady Leah.” You greeted with a fake smile. She had an eyebrow quirked up with a taunting expression with her arms crossed.

“You’re a whore.” She said. Your smile immediately dropped. “I didn’t want to listen to the rumors about you and Lord Rumlow, yet here I am… Did I intrude? The moment seemed rather intimate.”

“I believe you are mistaken, Lady Leah.” You nodded. You walked past her and towards the staircase behind her when she grabbed your arm and whipped you around.

“The king will have your head for your infidelity.” She said. “Then, any lady of the court gets another chance at being queen. That crown,” she snatched the dainty York tiara off your head, “belongs to me.”

“That is my mother’s.” You seethed as you reached over and tried to grab it from her hands. It became a tug of war.

You found it ridiculous, fighting over a headpiece. Your husband had gifted you hundreds of jewels and crowns that were stashed away. You could’ve easily exchanged it for something more extravagant or expensive, but Brooken had already stolen so much from you.

She pulled so hard away from you that the crown had slipped from both your hands. It clattered against the hard floors, the aged metal splitting in half. You gasped with wide, teary eyes. Lady Leah gave you a smirk.

“It’s all yours, your majesty,” she mocked. “It was cheap like your mother… and like you.”

You glared at her, feeling all the pent-up rage bubbling to the surface. You trembled with anger, unsure of how to exert such negativity. You weren’t sure whether to lunge at her and tear the stupid dangly earrings from her ears or scream until your lungs gave out.

“Queen Margaret had more grace than you and she was older than the king. Queen Sharon was more beautiful and kind. You little York bitch thought you were too good for the rest of us. Too good for the king?” She scoffed. “No wonder he grew tired of you. Hell, I wanted to slap you the second you stepped out the carriage. I can’t wait until he kills you.” You felt your breath shudder and the tears fall from your eyes. “In fact… I’ll go ahead and do it for him.”

You frowned with confusion but quickly let out a gasp when her hands reached out and pushed your shoulders hard. You lost your balance. Your foot missed a step as you tumbled down the stairs.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The five men sat around the wooden table, the king at the head. He drummed his fingers along the wood, the rhythm helped calm him.

It had been a week since the party – since he had slapped you as if you were just a defiant servant. He felt awful the moment it happened. You had a horrified look on your face as you stared at him as if he truly were a monster with fangs, horns, and all. He felt like he was one.

After the party ended, he saw an upset Strucker to his guest chambers before nearly running to your shared bedchamber with thousands of apologizes raging on inside his mind. He had intended to kiss the cut until it healed and hold you like he did in the first few months of your marriage. But you weren’t there. So, he sat at the foot of the bed and awaited your return. He stayed up all night long, but eventually collapsed hours after the sun rose.

He hoped to waken with you curled up beside his body, but he woke up to not-so-quiet servants who were briskly removing your things from the chamber. He pulled one girl aside and questioned her. She revealed that you wished to stay in your old chambers from now on.

He thought that this was perhaps a way of punishing him, so he allowed himself to be punished. He deserved it. He knew he should not have struck you – whether it happened privately or in front of a crowd, he knew he should not have laid his hands on you in that way.

He thought that you would return in a few short days and allow him to apologize for his wrongdoing. He hoped that there was still a chance at that happiness he promised you.

But days had turned into a week and you never returned.

And it hurt him.

Lord Pierce was droning on about the absence of grain. In the past year, Baron Strucker had been holding out on the essential good. He had been giving Brooken a fraction of what he used to. So, Steven invited him to court in hopes to coax out more of the grain so that his people could eat. But with your outburst and Wanda’s rejection, the Duke became angry. Now, he was refusing to ship grain, feeding the king excuses about a wildfire and insects that ravaged his lands.

“Is there anything we can do?” He asked. “Perhaps, reach out to any allies?”

“York.” Lord Rumlow suggested. “Although with the situation at hand, I doubt the queen would be willing to ask her father to help you.” The words were meant to be a jab at the king. Steven knew. His cousin was always poking and looking for a fight.

Before the king could respond, someone burst through the doors. It was a wide-eyed Natasha rushed through the doors. Panic written all over her features. “Your grace, my lords,” she bowed, panting slightly.

“Nat?” Lord James asked, rising from his seat. “What’s happened?”

“The queen…” she said, breathless. “The queen…”

“Out with it!” Brock snapped, jumping up from his seat and walked over to the woman, grabbing her arms and shaking her slightly. James had told him to unhand her.

“The queen was pushed down the stairs by Lady Leah Nightingale… Or at least that’s what the witness had said,” Natasha explained after regaining her breath. “She’s in the infirmary.”

Steven felt the color drain from his face as he shot up and rushed past her and out the room. He heard the lady’s heels clatter against the tiles as she followed him. The sound was accompanied by heavy footsteps, that undoubtedly belonged to the other lords of his council.

As he approached the doors, he noticed a midwife – he believed her name was Jean or Joan, or something along the lines of that – walking the opposite direction in quick, rushed steps. He dismissed it before bursting through the double doors.

The doctor, Stephen Strange, who was visiting from York, had been looming over you. Lady Wanda sitting at your bedside. “King Steven,” he greeted with a nod.

“Strange.” Steven responded. He glanced over to the men behind him and asked for everyone but the doctor to be dismissed. The two ladies glared at him – he didn’t miss the way his cousin did, too. “Must I repeat myself?”

“I will not leave you with her.” It was Wanda, the shy, meek auburn-haired girl, who spoke up. She had rarely been defiant or outspoken in the ways you and Natasha were. She had always smiled and nodded, but now, she scowled at the king with her brows knitted together and venom dripping from her words.

The king sighed, placing a hand on his hip. “Please,” he asked with a lower voice. It was as if he were begging. The two women stood as they were as if to say we don’t take orders from you. “Fine. Stay.”

Steven walked closer towards you. You looked so peaceful – asleep with your head turned to the side slightly and a hand over your stomach, which protruded in the slightest bit but was still unnoticeable beneath your gown. The scar left a scabbed line on your cheekbone. He hadn’t realized how shallow the cut was.

“Is she okay?” He finally asked. “And I apologize that I hadn’t been there to welcome you to Brooken, Stephen.”

“I’m only here because her father asked me to come check on her. I am her godfather after all.” Stephen lied. Though, truthfully, he was your godfather. “She’s only sleeping for now, your grace. No true injury. The ba – “he stopped talking when he saw Wanda shake her head over the king’s shoulder. He was a smart man. He knew not to overstep. “She’ll make a quick recovery and be on her feet in a day, if not, less.”

“If she doesn’t wake?”

“Don’t be so pessimistic. She will wake. I assure you.” Stephen said, confidently. He wasn’t here for your father’s bidding. He was here to inform you of your brother’s worsening condition. He believed that you had a right to know and say your farewells, but he realized that perhaps you had other pressing matters to deal with. “I suggest you get your court in order. If word reaches York about the treatment of their princess, there will be another war… And King Anthony will be twice as ruthless as he was during the first.”

Steven nodded. His eyes glued to your unconscious body. It was his fault that his people – your people, too – had been so cruel to you in the past week. Thankfully, you weren’t badly hurt in this incident, but what of the next? What happens when his own citizens become bold enough to have a true attempt at your life? It would still be your blood on his hands because he allowed this to happen.

“Let’s leave the king, shall we ladies?” Stephen asked. Although slightly wary and defiant, the two women reluctantly agreed. He listened to their receding footsteps and the door close behind them.

Steven brushed your hair gently with his fingers. He pressed his lips to your temple and to the cut before placing a chaste kiss to your lips. You head had turned, but you were still sound asleep.

“I don’t know if you’re listening. I hope you are.” Steven whispered, clutching the hand that laid to your side. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry for striking you, for allowing people to disrespect you so openly. I’m sorry for calling you a whore queen, for frightening you. I… There are so many wrongdoings, so many faults. I told you before I wanted us to be happy. I wanted our future to be happy. And I failed you. I want to do better by you, to be the man that you deserve, I truly do…

“But there are things going on in this kingdom that you do not know about… I pray that you do not. My cousin and Lord Pierce are plotting against me. I know it. I want to trust you, (Y/N). I do. I want to tell you of my plans to weed out everyone who dares go against us, but I see them looming over you. I see Brock whispering into your ear. I can’t help but wonder if you will betray me like Margaret? Like Sharon? I’ve been married twice before you and I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it scares me because the only love I’ve known ends in betrayal. And if you betray me, I will not know how to recover.”

You were beginning to stir awake. Your eyes were fluttering open, wincing at the light. You felt a pressure in your head, a warmth radiating to your side. His words were muffled. You didn’t register anything he said. Not even when Steven whispered,

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Outside the infirmary doors, the lords had eventually dispersed. Wanda and Stephen had walked off, whispering about the secret baby that only you, your ladies, Jean, and now your godfather knew about. Rumlow and Pierce rushed off, whispering to one another about their plots. Only James and Natasha had stayed behind, standing against the wall across the door.

“Buck?” Natasha whispered. She surveyed the hallway. They were completely alone. Not a servant in sight. He hummed in response. “I have something to tell you.”

“About what?”

“I’m telling you because I trust you and because I do not trust Lord Rumlow.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

You were eventually moved back to your chambers – the one separate from the king’s. You were still a bit dizzy from the incident, but you were assured you’d be fine. Jean had come by discreetly and checked up on you. She assured you that the baby wasn’t harmed and that the fall wasn’t too harsh that it could’ve caused any damage. Your godfather had also promised that you’d recover.

It became clear that Brooken did not want you here. You were in danger. Your child hadn’t been born yet, and it was in danger, too.

And like a flame that ignited in the window of the tower across from your chambers, a new hope burned through you. The signal. The confirmation.

You rubbed your slightly protruded stomach anxiously. The next night you were leaving Steven and Brooken. Forever.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #king!steve rogers #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america #royalty au #marvel au #marvel royalty

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Note

You should bring back that bnha Alice in wonderland au. It was really good! Maybe some scenario with King of Hearts Shoto?

It’s been a while since I wrote anything for this AU, but I’d be happy to give the most invalid version of Todoroki the attention he deserves. He’s moody at the best of times, but giving him control of a kingdom just as unbalanced… it’s meant to be.

TW: Mentions of Starvation, Death, and Imprisonment, Learned Helplessness, and Implied Drug Use.

You’d never tasted something so sweet.

It was almost sour, honestly, but the bitterness was covered by waves of something so sugary and sickly, you could hardly stand to think of a time when your lips hadn’t been coated in it. It was a fruit, you guessed, round and dripping in a blood-red syrup that stained Shoto’s fingertips. The skin was smooth and the flesh was soft, and you tried not to think about what might happen when your supply ran out. You didn’t think it would, honestly. You’d just ask Shoto for more, and he’d tell a passing servant to bring in the next platter, and then you’d wait for another dozen to be shoved down your throat by a King who should have far better things to do than feed a nameless stranger by hand.

The flavor might’ve been what made your head spin, your thoughts starting to swim and your vision beginning to blur as you sat in Shoto’s lap, resting against his chest while your legs hung off a velvet-lined arm. That, or all the eyes on you, your clothing suddenly seeming too simply, too out of place, the members of Shoto’s court all dressed in gowns of silk and suits of blinding colors and the furs of animals you’d never seen before, animals that shouldn’t have existed. Many of them were silent, staring forward with dead eyes and sneers across their lips, and yet, the room was unbearably loud, harsh whispers and mumbled threats echoing in your ear, even if only a fraction of those in sight were speaking.

You whimpered at the thought of the faceless voices growing any louder, burying your face in Shoto’s coat and ignoring the harsh bite of metallic emblems and accessories against your skin. The softness of the cape around his shoulders made up for it, even if you kept yourself from reaching for it. Shoto could be… decisive, when it came to what you were and weren’t allowed to touch.

Scanning over your crumpled form, Shoto acknowledged your discomfort with a concerned hum, his gloved hand coming up to run through your tangled hair, making a half-hearted attempt to comb it out. “You stopped eating,” He started, his voice cold, apathetic. You weren’t surprised - he never really made an effort to be very sympathetic. “Is something wrong, love? I can have one of my guards take you back to my chambers, if you need to rest.”

“‘m not tired,” You mumbled, the words muffled by his attire. He was right, it’d been a minute or two since you’d taken anything in. Your tongue was already turning bitter, an unrecognized invader in your mouth. You drew away, relaxing once you saw that three blurry, round shapes were still balanced on the silver plate in the arms of a girl you didn’t recognize. She did her best not to meet your eyes, when she noticed you staring. “It’s just… Is it always this loud, Your Majesty? I can hardly hear myself think.”

Shoto smiled, pulling you back just enough to stare you down properly. “That’s the point, isn’t it? There are matters that need to be discussed, and so, my advisors discuss them. Eventually, we’ll come to a conclusion.” He paused, and as if on cue, someone let out a wordless, elongated scream, the noise ending as abruptly as it’d begun. Your attention snapped towards the court, a bright red splashing in the corner of your vision, but Shoto only wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you in place. “Or, we won’t. It’s best to let them work these things out on their own.”

You couldn’t help but frown. The inside of your mouth felt dry, itchy. Not hurt, but wrong. As if there was a coating that you’d let erode away too soon. “But--”

“There are more important things to worry your little head over,” He assured, cutting you off without hesitation. He released you, letting you squirm and shift in your efforts to find a position that didn’t feel off, but Shoto put an end to that quickly, taking you by the scalp and turning your eyes towards the center of the room, the space so much more empty than you remembered it being. The tiles were a deeper black, the walls a more stainless white, but more importantly, a man was standing either, now, struggling against the two guards holding his arms. You hadn’t noticed him before, but you didn’t know how. He was shouting, yelling, the noise harsh and heavy and terrible, clashing against your ears and making you cringe and grit your teeth and fight the urge to run. “Some of my subjects don’t care for the guests I take in,” He explained, narrowing his eyes towards the intruder. “They say it’s unfair, that I’m keeping you here against your will. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? This one, in particular, wanted to ‘free’ you. As if you’d ever want to be apart from your caretaker.”

You didn’t respond. You were aware that you’d let Shoto take you in willingly, and to that extent, you wanted to be with him. The world outside was jarring and confusing, with rules you didn’t know and laws you couldn’t seem to obey, and Shoto was a filter for all that, a protective blanket that came with food and warmth and wonderful, mysterious fruits. And, if you left…

You didn’t like to think about what would happen if you left.

Shoto made it clear you shouldn’t try to.

“He was worried,” You whispered, your defense barely audible. “What’re you going to do to him?”

“Whatever I see fit,” He answered, a grin still pulling at his lips and his eyes never leaving the man. “Maybe I’ll let my soldiers burn him on a pike, or feed him to the hunting dogs. He could be pulled apart and quartered, or thrown into a vat of boiling water, or we could throw him into the dungeon and let him starve. Or, we could execute him, and you’ll get to attend your first beheading!” He tapped the bridge of your nose playfully, but his tone was lower as he continued, deeper. An unspoken threat you knew better than to interrupt. “If you wanted to. you could plead his innocence. Remember the first time we found a traitor, and you cried and beg and whined until his head was rolling at our feet? It was cute, up until you decided to be such a brat about my decision.”

You remembered, albeit vaguely. He’d sentenced a man to death without a trial, and in retaliation, you did the only thing you could, clawing at his bedsheets and tearing at his curtains and refusing his company for days, regardless of how childish your protests seemed. Shoto made his threats, and you ignored him, put him out of your mind until you were being thrown into that cold, dark labyrinth beneath the castle, where decent meals were fever dreams and sunlight was a privilege, one you had yet to earn. You still didn’t know how long you were lost and imprisoned, but you could still feel the chill underneath your skin, that ashy taste of hunger still lingering in the back of your throat. You knew you didn’t want to go back.

If you disagreed, you’d have to. Even if Shoto said you didn’t, he’d be lying.

You’d be so hungry.

Without thinking, you clung to him, stringing your arms around his neck and pulling yourself close. Shoto tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head, an unabashed, trickling laugh soon blocking out the rest of the room as he realized what you wanted. A second later, he pulled away, and one of those candied, merciful little sweets was being pushed against your lips, soon welcomed in and freeing you of that terrible acidity that came with separation. You didn’t care about traitors or politics or any of that, you couldn’t. Shoto was warm, and it tasted so good to be around him. That was all that mattered.

You weren’t sure why you ever thought otherwise.

Shoto dismissed the prisoner with a wave and a vague gesture to his neck, but you didn’t care enough to feel guilty. Shoto pulled you flush against him, letting you nuzzle into the dip of his shoulder and purr in your contentment, anything but his presence quickly pushed out. “Finally,” He whispered, letting you melt against him. He didn’t seem to mind, kissing the top of your head and keeping you as close as you could be, not that he needed to.

You doubted you’d ever leave his side again.

“I knew you’d see reason, if I was patient.”

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cordonian-literature · 4 years

Text

The Aftermath - Ch. 21

Two Weeks

Summary: Everyone prepares for the approaching Social Season

Word Count: ~4.2k

A/N: i felt especially evil writing Drake’s part, so i hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: none

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @loudbluebirdlover @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @queenjilian @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @iaminlovewithtrr @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @louiseingram1208 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @missevabean @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13

I’m sorry, the tags are being weird and I don’t know if they’re working or not… but I hope I got everyone down! If I missed someone, or anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know :)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Maxwell -

The baby blossoms were improving in their lessons perfectly, and no one was prouder than Liam. Him and Maxwell would sit with the children through lessons, making sure they understood the basics. True, they couldn’t teach the children everything in two weeks, but they needed to know how to act like royalty for the Social Season.

Maxwell had asked Liam how his dinner with Riley went. The man was ecstatic to say that she was giving him a chance. Maxwell was happy for his friend, but hoped that neither of them would do anything to mess it up.

Maxwell tired to come up with ways that Riley and Liam could spend time with each other, but whenever the baby blossoms came into their view, they began to worry about the court voicing their opinions about the children.

Riley and Rowan tried to help the children in terms of memorizing etiquette. By the end of the week, both children knew enough to pass by as royalty. Liam voiced his relief that the children wouldn’t be in the spotlight too much, considering the fact that they weren’t expected to participate in certain events.

Maxwell had tried to spend more time with Rowan, but the woman was also stressed about what she was going to do in front of the nobility. Even though she followed along in the baby blossoms’ lessons, she pointed out that expectations would be different for a grown woman compared to two small children.

And even after dinner, when he tried to sneak a moment alone with her, Bertrand would always find him lurking in a corner and would reprimand Maxwell.

After Maxwell and Bartie walked the baby blossoms through what was expected of them behavior-wise, and after Hana taught them some traditional dances, Olivia declared that it was time to teach them self defense.

“Is that... necessary?” Hana asks.

“With the previous attack on the palace,” Olivia begins. “It would be better for them to know something rather than nothing.”

“Is the situation truly so serious?” Hana turns to Liam.

His eyebrows furrow. “Truth be told, I don’t know. The investigations are still ongoing, but so far they’ve found nothing.”

“Don’t you think people may avoid participating in the season out of fear?” Hana continues to ask.

“Perhaps, but I’ve increased security to ensure the safety of the guests.”

“And thus another reason why the King’s Guard cannot teach them,” Olivia starts up again, referring to the children. “They must protect the palace grounds and continue their investigation. Whoever those thieves are, they better not get away.”

Liam’s phone rings, and he leaves the room. Hana says she’ll go check on Riley, and so Maxwell, Rowan, and Olivia are left with the children.

“So.” Olivia turns to them. “Answer me this. An intruder has broken into your home in the middle of the night. You open your door to see that they are coming towards you with a knife. What do you do?”

“Hide!” Ella claims.

“False.” Olivia states.

“Um... run away?” Gabriel tries.

“Wrong again. Cowardice is never the answer,” Olivia tells them.

“So... are we supposed to... fight back?” Gabriel asks.

“But we’re just kids,” Ella argues.

Rowan leans towards Maxwell and whispers, “She’s got a point. Maybe they shouldn’t be learning about this.”

“You can use that to your advantage,” Olivia states. “There’s a chance the intruder wouldn’t hurt a child, so you will take their moment of hesitation to attack.”

“Attack?” Gabe’s eyebrows furrow as he thinks, and Maxwell can’t help but notice how similar the action is to what Liam does. “So we can... hit them with a baseball bat?”

“Or kick something at them? Ou! Can we just kick them?” Ella adds.

“Precisely!” Olivia smiles at the children. “Though it would be better to get the job done with a sharp object.”

“Like a knife?” Gabriel questions.

“Yes, and today I will be teaching you both how to effectively use a knife to defend yourselves.”

“Mama said I’m not allowed to use knives anymore,” Eleanor tells the group.

“And why is that?” Olivia puts her hands on her hips.

“Because of what happened last Thanksgiving.”

“And what transpired on the last giving of thanks?”

“I chased Gabe with the knife we were supposed to use to cut the turkey.”

A smile plasters over Olivia’s face. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

A flash of childish fear crosses Gabriel’s face, and Rowan pats him on the shoulder.

“Now,” Olivia begins. From different spots in her dress, she removes a series of extremely sharp knives. “Pick one to use.”

“Uh, no,” Rowan interjects. “We won’t be doing that. These are literal children, Lady Olivia.”

Olivia rolls her eyes. “Fine. I brought wooden knives, too, but they’re in my room.” She retreats to go get them.

Maxwell leans into the group, making them all huddle together. “You know what we should do, baby blossoms?” The children shake their heads. “Follow me.”

Maxwell leads them behind the staircase towards the wall of weapons.

“Wow,” Rowan exclaims. “Exactly why does your family have this?” She holds in a laugh.

“Are these the knives Duchess Olivia wants us to use?” Gabriel asks.

“No,” Maxwell answers him. “But wouldn’t it be fun to use them?”

The children look towards Rowan, and she laughs. “We can hold them, but no swinging them around, okay?”

“Okay!” Ella exclaims, reaching for the double sided sword. It’s a little heavy for her, but she manages to hold it up.

Rowan grabs the dagger, and Gabriel settles for the sword.

Maxwell lifts the flail from the wall, and before he can say anything else, he turns to see Eleanor leading everyone back to the ballroom.

Once they’re inside, they wait for Olivia, but something catches Maxwell’s eye.

“You okay?” Rowan asks.

“Look!” Maxwell walks towards a table, where a phone pokes out from under a handkerchief. “It’s Drake’s phone.”

“Should we give it back to him?” Gabriel asks.

Maxwell sighs, and regards the phone in his hands. “Probably.” He looks towards Rowan and the baby blossoms, a mischievous look in his eyes. “But first...”

Before he can finish the sentence, Rowan starts giggling. Through the laugh she manages, “If you say, ‘Let me take a selfie,’ I’m taking the weapons away.”

Maxwell pouts at her. “Fine, I won’t say it, but can we take at least one?”

He can tell that the situation is amusing to her, but Rowan glances at the children and agrees.

They all pose, and Maxwell takes the picture. Rowan takes the phone and puts it back where they found it from, while Maxwell takes everyone’s weapons and goes to put it back on the wall.

When he comes back, the baby blossoms each have a wooden sword in their hands. Maxwell notices that they look very similar to the wooden sword Olivia had when she was a child.

“—Since these are now yours’, you can name them whatever you want.” Maxwell hears her tell them.

“So...” Eleanor closely regards her sword. “If I name it ‘Gabe’... does that mean I can do this?” She turns to hit her brother’s shoulder with the sword repeatedly, and chants, “Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!”

Gabriel protests, and tries to back away from her, but Eleanor follows him, giggling.

“Stop! Wait! Give me a second!” The boy protests.

“Get it together, Gabriel!” Olivia calls to him from the sidelines. “You’re losing!”

“Yay!” Eleanor screams.

“Watch your footing!” Olivia directs. “Widen your stance!”

Soon, both of the baby blossoms are hitting each other’s wooden swords. They use all of their energy, until Gabriel finally backs away in a coughing fit.

Liam rushes in, having finished his phone call. He goes to Gabriel’s side and tells him to sit down.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” the boy states.

“Alright.” Liam sighs. “I wanted to make sure.”

“Are you here to get a wooden sword, too?” Eleanor asks him.

Liam chuckles, looking down at her and ruffling the girl’s hair. “No.” His smile falters as he continues, “I came to say goodbye. I have to return to the palace for a few days, but will be back soon.”

“Aww,” Eleanor whines. She hugs Liam’s waist, and he kneels down to wrap her in his arms. He does the same to Gabriel, who, to Maxwell’s shock and relief, hugs his father back.

Liam nods at Olivia, Maxwell, and Rowan on his way out.

After he’s out of sight, Olivia turns back to the children. “Alright, where were we?”

- Drake -

Though he was turned away from her, Drake heard Jessica get out of bed. Her phone had vibrated from under her pillow, and she grabbed it and left the room.

Jessica had asked Drake to return to his cabin for at least one evening, since she wanted to spend time with him away from the rest of his friends. He assumed that Jessica didn’t like his friends’ company, and that upset him. But there was barely a week left until the Social Season; he didn’t want her to be anxious about having to be in the presence of the nobility, so he was willing to spend time alone with Jessica to make her feel more at ease.

He gets out of bed and combs through a small pile of his and Jessica’s clothes that they had thrown to the side. Drake puts her dress on the edge of the bed and grabs his pants. His heartbeat quickens for a moment as he feels the pockets for the ring box. Looking over his shoulder towards the door, he saw Jessica texting away with a blanket draped over her. Drake opens the ring box, and eyes his grandmother’s ring, then turns again to Jessica.

Not the time, he thinks to himself, putting it back into his pants pocket.

After he finishes putting on the rest of his clothes, he goes into the kitchen to get himself something to eat. He’s about to ask Jessica who she’s texting, but before he can get near her, she bolts up and says she’s going to go use the bathroom.

He looks through the fridge and some cabinets. Finding nothing, he decides it wouldn’t be so bad if they went out to eat.

Drake hears the door to the bathroom open, and Jessica reappears wearing one of his shirts and a small pair of shorts with her hair tied up. He wonders where she got them from, but remembers that some of her clothes were still in his house.

She gives him a peck on the cheek and goes to open the fridge.

“What do you think about going out to eat?” he asks her. “Haven’t done the groceries in a while.”

“Go out?” she starts. Jessica pouts, and Drake feels sorry for upsetting her. “But I look a mess!”

He smiles and shakes his head. She would never understand her own beauty. No matter what she wore or what she did, she looked perfectly put together. He took a moment to look at her in awe, allowing her image to bless his eyes: her skin was soft and clear, even though she had been sweaty moments before. Her hair looked effortlessly elegant. She could throw on some jeans and would be better put together than half of the women Drake had dated.

“What if we go eat with Papa?” Jessica suggests, referring to her father. “He’s been wanting to see you for a while.”

“Sure,” Drake says. Jessica leaves the room to go get ready. He had met Jessica’s father a few times, and the man reminded Drake of his own father. As snarky as Jackson Walker, and just as supportive of his children. Out of respect he always referred to Jessica’s father as Mr. Ariti. Drake enjoyed the man’s company, and was always pleased to hear from Jessica that her father enjoyed spending time with him as well.

Drake walks towards the bathroom, wanting to freshen himself up. He hears the shower running and finds the door locked. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he scrolls through his phone while waiting for her. He finds an image of Maxwell posing with Rowan, Gabriel, and Eleanor, each of them holding a medieval weapon. Drake wonders how they got into his phone.

He continues to scroll and eventually finds a picture he took of Jessica when they went camping together a few years ago. The light from the fire had make her dark skin look like glass, and he had wanted to capture the moment of her raw beauty. She was looking away from the camera, towards the sky. Drake usually felt comfortable in her presence, ever since the day he first met her. There was nothing complicated about this woman; her emotions were always in check and there was rarely anything that troubled her. Even when she was dealing with family issues and her father’s declining health, Drake had never seen her cry. He believed there was a sense of power in that: she knew which topics were deserving of her tears and which weren’t, and even the things that irritated her she solved effortlessly.

But lately the two of them seemed more out of sync than not. Even tonight Drake felt that he wasn’t near her, even though she was always close enough to touch. He thinks that they may just be having one of those days, and tries to forget about it.

She comes out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her phone tightly clasped in her hand. Jessica doesn’t look at Drake, and begins going through drawers to find something to wear.

He takes a quick shower, and wears his usual denim outfit before Jessica is ready. He waits for her for a few more minutes, until finally she comes out of the room and they leave.

They take her Jeep. She brought them to a large apartment building in the capital. They park, and the doorman greets them by name, then quickly rings a phone call up to Mr. Ariti to tell him that his daughter was here to visit him.

The elevator door opens at the twelfth floor, and Jessica leads him down a small hallway. After they knock, Mr. Ariti’s nurse opens the door and greets Jessica with a kiss on the cheek.

The women move aside for Drake, and he smells something cooking from the kitchen. Mr. Ariti’s dog, a rottweiler named Elsa, runs at Drake to greet him.

Mr. Ariti’s apartment was small and luxuriously decorated. He had told Drake that it was Jessica and her mother who had the stylish inclinations, but looking around the room at the decorative sculptures and oil paintings, he couldn’t tell what type of person had decorated the room. Drake felt slightly out of place here, but he enjoyed Mr. Ariti’s company.

Mr. Ariti sits on the couch in the living room, and when he sees Drake, he uses all his strength to stand and greet him. Drake rushes forward, helping Mr. Ariti balance himself. The old man gives him a pat on the back, and they sit down.

Jessica sits next to Drake, and she entertains them by telling both men about a trip she had come back from a few weeks ago. “Oh, I’ve yet to tell you about this trip, darling,” she tells Drake. It was another trip to a Greek island. She took one about every two months, and it was a different island every time.

Before she can continue, Mr. Ariti’s nurse comes up to tell him that the doorman is on the intercom in the kitchen. Mr. Ariti has a difficult time standing up, so Drake offers him his arm and follows the nurse into the kitchen.

Once they stand next to the intercom, Drake hears the doorman say, “Mr. Ariti? Yes... he’s here again.”

“He? Who’s he?” the old man asks.

The nurse speaks up and tells him, “You know who he’s talking about, Mr. Ariti, the...” She eyes Drake. “The businessman.”

“Sir,” the doorman speaks from the intercom again. “He says he wishes to come up.”

“No,” Mr. Ariti says. “I don’t care, don’t let him up. Keep him downstairs.”

“Yes, sir,” the doorman says from the intercom.

Mr. Ariti turns back to Drake, and he begins leading the old man to the dining table where the nurse had started putting dinner.

“Everything alright?” Drake asks him.

“Yes, yes.” The old man waves at him dismissively. “Just some fool who won’t leave us alone.”

Suddenly Jessica opens the door, claiming that she was going to take Elsa for a walk around the block.

A frost of displeasure crosses Mr. Ariti’s face. They hear the door click shut as she leads the dog out of the apartment, and Mr. Ariti asks Drake to sit down.

They begin to eat, and Drake respectfully listens to Mr. Ariti talk about his day, the situation that arose with one of his neighbors, and something his doctor told him. When they’re done with their meal and laughing with one another, Jessica finally reappears. She takes a seat next to Drake and serves herself some cold pasta.

The men continue to talk while Jessica eats. She laughs along to her father’s jokes, and then when she finishes, turns to Drake.

“Darling, I meant to tell you,” she begins. “I won’t be able to make it to the Masquerade Ball.”

��You changed your mind about the Social Season?” Drake asks, slightly relieved.

“No, silly.” She giggles. “Something’s come up. If I were to attend, I would have to leave early, so it’s best not to attend at all. Oh, don’t look at me like that, darling.” She laces Drake’s fingers through her own. “Didn’t you tell me that Countess Hana said her husband will be making a late appearance as well? Well mine won’t be quite as late.” She leans forward to kiss Drake’s cheek. “I’m participating in the season because I want to support you, darling. I know how you dislike the nobility’s company, so I know how much a friendly face will mean to you.”

Drake leans towards her to kiss her, and Jessica turns back to her meal.

After she finishes eating, Mr. Ariti says that the two of them better get home before it becomes to late, and he makes Drake promise to visit again soon.

While Jessica and Drake ride the elevator down to the lobby, Jessica speaks up: “Papa looked upset today, don’t you think?”

Drake agrees, and suggests that the man was probably tired.

“You know what I think we should do, darling?”

He turns to look at her, wondering what she was thinking of.

Finally, Jessica turns to look at him. “Marry.”

Drake’s heart stops for a moment. Did she just propose? Wasn’t I thinking about doing that just hours before? What had stopped me from doing it then? And why’s she asking this now?

“Sh- should we?” he asks, utterly confused as to what was happening.

“Yes, please! I think it would make Papa so happy.”

She grabs his hand and leads him out of the elevator and towards her car. Drake feels as if he’s never felt so baffled in his life. Jessica turns on the radio, and Drake can’t hear himself think through the music. He can still feel his grandmother’s ring in his pocket. Should I give it to her now? He hears Jessica humming along to the music, and Drake doesn’t know what to do.

She drops him off in front of his cabin, and says she'll go home to her own apartment since she has some things to settle in the morning. She leans over to kiss him goodbye.

In a haze, Drake walks into his house and towards his bed and falls onto it, wondering what had just happened, and what that meant since his feelings for Jessica were still uncertain.

- Savannah -

The Social Season was fast approaching, and the day of Liam’s press conference — the one where he would introduce Gabriel to the people — had arrived before anyone realized it.

Liam and Gabriel had left for the capital early in the morning. Gabriel’s things were packed, and Liam assured Riley that he would help the boy get settled. When Riley had said that Eleanor could not go with, both children were upset, and Eleanor was still anxious hours later.

Everyone’s things were packed as well. Riley’s doctor would return tonight to take off her cast, so they would leave early in the morning for the Masquerade Ball, but they were all currently sitting in front of the TV to watch the press conference. They each sat on a couch, huddled around the TV. Drake was the only one that stood at the edge of the room. Savannah motions for him to come sit next to her, but Drake shakes his head. She wonders what happened to her brother, and guesses it may have something to do with the visit he gave Jessica last week.

Throughout the past two weeks, there were more cases of stolen art around Europe, specifically in France and Austria. Museums all throughout the continent shut down in fear of more incidents, and some nobles expressed their worries to King Liam. More and more news articles surfaced, asking if the King was going to let priceless works of Cordonian artists be stolen, and not fight for them back?

And so the topic of the press conference changed. Liam told Riley and the rest of them that he would be introducing Gabriel to the people, but he would also try to answer their questions and concerns about the stolen art.

They watch the screen as Liam and Gabriel are led by guards up to a small platform in front of the palace. The crowd cheers for their monarch, and possibly for the heir as well. Both wear formal outfits, and Savannah notices that Gabriel’s shoulders are oddly tense.

As King Liam stops walking and turns to face the crowd, he smiles down at his son. Gabriel turns, and his face is slightly pale. He gives the crowd a tight smile and a nod. They continue to cheer.

Liam walks up to the microphone and speaks: “People of Cordonia, it is my humble honor to introduce you to my son, the heir, Gabriel Liam Rys.” His voice drowns out as the crowd cheers again. The crowd continues to cheer for a few moments, but their cries of joy become a roar of people talking over one another. Cameras zoom in towards people’s faces, and they can hear questions being shouted.

“How do we know important historical artifacts are safe?”

“Cordonia’s history goes back hundred of thousands of years! All that could be lost because you don’t know where to put your military!”

“Get off your high horse! Our art has to do with our national pride!”

“You cared for the orchard, so care about this, too!”

“I thought you said you were going to honor our history?”

“What kind of King lets his country’s history get lost like that?”

“Get the Queen Mother’s goblets back!”

“Cordonia’s history could be wiped away by some clever thieves, what the Hell are you going to do about it?!”

Guards manage to quiet the crowd, and Liam allows Ana de Luca to speak.

“Your Majesty,” she begins. “On behalf of Cordonias everywhere, I just want to say that we are elated at the news of the heir.” Gabriel gives a wide smile. “But we need to know, what measures are being taken to make sure that Cordonia’s precious artifacts stay safe? Surely you understand the historical significance of these pieces, and the honor that comes with them?”

“Thank you, Miss de Luca,” Liam answers. “I understand the people’s concern. Rest assured that I have the best people our country has to offer on this case. We will find the perpetrators soon, and bring them to justice. I’ve increased security in the palace, as well as in Cordonian museums. They would not dare strike again.”

The crowd begins screaming again, and Bastien walks up to Liam and whispers in his ear. Liam walks away with Gabriel trailing slightly behind.

Maxwell turns the TV off. “Wow.”

“Didn’t know it was that serious,” Rowan states.

“Cordonians are more worried than I expected them to be.” Hana looks around the group.

“The Social Season should take their minds off of this,” Bertrand states, standing up.

After a few seconds, Olivia states: “I trust Liam to handle it. They’re simply a few petty art thieves.”

“They probably fight with paint brushes.” Maxwell whispers over to Eleanor and Rowan, both of who begin to giggle.

“This is simply a small hiccup,” Bertrand continues. “I’m sure they’ll find something. In the meantime, it would be best that we all finished getting ready. Lady Riley, your doctor should arrive within the hour. Eleanor, if you would come with me, I would like you and Bartie to review your table manners.”

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #choices trr #choices stories you play #trr king liam x mc #king liam x riley #liam x mc #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr mc x liam

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sparklingichigo · 3 years

Text

Drama Intensifies

Part 9

Okay, back to Solomon and Ichigo. So far so good nothing is happening between them just sleeping soundly until the bolster falls. Oh wow, Solomon and Michael did jinx this. But before that let's get back to where they got back.

Ichigo: Oh boi that's a ride!

Solomon: Yeah!

Barbatos: I'm glad you two return safely^^ Did you get any help?

Ichigo: Well grandpa did say he'll come here to search for me since he can read the future and everything.... so yea...

Barbatos: There are two possibilites. Him appearing in time or appearing too late. Let's all hope he appears in time.

Suddenly all three of them see a suspicious figure behind them. There's also the holy sword coming from the sky. Both Solomon and Ichigo are shocked by this until they see Michael coming into the halls of the castle.

Ichigo: Michael?!

Michael: Hello to you too, Ichigo.

Barbatos: It's very nice to meet you again, Michael. What brings you to the castle?

Michael: I've seen something really horrifying from the dark realm. It seems to be the person I just stabbed was a decoy. They're disguising as Reika in order to kill you two.

Solomon: Kill us? Why would they kill us?

Michael: I've been informed by the grim reaper himself that she has this desire to kill Ichigo but turns out the shadow king wants you dead as well, Solomon. Based on what I heard, they seem to be trying to get rid of you, Solomon, and Haruka since all three of you are the keys to their loss.

Ichigo: I see...

Solomon: Then what do you suggest we do?

Michael: Stay in Celestial Realm. Until everything is cleared or at least until Simeon and Haruka return.

Solomon: Didn't I get banned for 3 months?

Michael: And it's already four months, Solomon.

Solomon: oh...

Barbatos: I also saw the future and the reality in which you stayed in devildom will cause your death so I suggest you go to the celestial realm with Michael. I let the house of lamentation know that you two are gone and they must not tell a soul.

The two nod and off they go to the celestial realm. Now here they are sharing a room and bed that night. Unconsciously dropping the bolster and end up cuddling together.

Solomon: [blinks awake] o-o

Ichigo: [sleeping soundly]

Solomon: [chuckles slightly] I never notice you actually look adorable asleep like this. It's nice to finally see you looking peaceful like this [fix her bangs that's falling to her face]

Solomon suddenly feels his heart beating quite fast due to such a view. Sure he's not loyal in the first place but he's in an open relationship with Asmo so he's sure Asmo would let him court Ichigo but will Beel let him? Just as he's thinking he hears Ichigo muttering some words of magic in her sleep.

Ichigo: O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes! (Dragon summoning magic)

Solomon: Heh, as if the dragon will appear. Now I know why Beel likes you a lot, Ichigo [pats her]. Never thought I of all being would fall for your charms. Oh well, sweet dreams^^

The next morning, Ichigo feels something wet is hitting her and when she did wake up, she finds Solomon drenched in holy water and there's Luke and Michael praying for him.

Ichigo: What's happening....?

Luke: He tried to touch you this morning!

Ichigo: Ew! WTF!!

Solomon: No I didn't!

Michael: Lying to an angel, how bold of you [shows footage he gets from Solomon's memory of him trying to kiss Ichigo at 3 am]

Ichigo: Damn, Solomon! I get it you're horny but don't use me like that!

Ichigo: [accidentally gets shot and feels burning in her skin] Ouch-

Luke: ...

Michael: Luke! She has demon blood! Spraying her with holy water would just kill her!

Luke: ;-; aaa I'm sorry! I don't mean to! I meant to shot it at Solomon's wandering hands!

Michael: [sigh] I guess you'll be sleeping on Luke's room for the next night.

Luke: [nods] It'll be safer with me! Not with this suspicious human! >:(

Solomon: Hey! [offended noises]

Ichigo: Stay away from me you perverted sorcerer! [moves away and goes behind the angels]

Yes, Solomon, she's a loyal person. She prefers Beel anyway, so no. Please don't court her. Anyways back to Haruka's world, here she is eating breakfast with her family and Simeon.

King: Hmm...Cyrstalia, I think we should find you a partner soon. I'm getting old and not anyone can inherit the throne. Perhaps a prince or someone from a noble family.

Haruka: [laughs nervously] I'm not interested in dating anyone though... I can rule the kingdom on my own and even if I want to marry someone must this person be from a noble family?

King: Of course! You're a royal, aren't you?

Queen: My dear, stop that! She can choose who she loves to be with her. Besides she's the one ruling the kingdom not the other way around!

Queen: Crystalia, my dear, just find someone that you truly love, okay? I don't want you to suffer and be with someone that you don't love.

Haruka: Of course, mother.

Well I know what you're thinking. Simeon is her boyfriend why doesn't he have a say in this? I mean they're royals and her father is really protective so exposing your identity would be really dangerous.

King: Hmm, how about Cloud? You used to be close to him, aren't you?

Haruka: I don't feel any romantic feelings for him though... besides, I already have one person in mind.

King: Really? Is he around?

Haruka: I'll tell you when I'm ready, father...

King: Alright.

Now back to these two, this chaotic duo. The two of them end up eating breakfast with Michael and Luke in such an awkward situation. Ichigo ends up sitting beside Luke out of awkwardness and that means Solomon needs to sit beside Michael. Poor guy....

Solomon, internally: Okay that night was a mistake. A horrible one plus I ain't dying because of the twins and Asmo coming after me that's just insane.

Just as he mentioned twins, he heard the door knock and speak of the devil, it's Beel!

Solomon: Beel?!

Michael: ?? Beelzebub, what brings you here?

Beel: Oh well... Angel Uriel gave me access and Barbatos told me that she's-

Before he can even finish his words, Ichigo went straight in and hugs the heck out of him.

Beel: It's nice to see you too, Sugar^^

Ichigo: Honeybear!! ;-; I miss you a lot!

Beel: As I was saying, Barbatos told me that she's here so I came along...

Solomon: .... that'd just expose her locations-

Beel: Ah, don't worry^^ Barbatos just tell them that I'm somewhere in the human world for a mission. They also told me that Reika is coming to kill you guys...

Solomon: One of the reasons why we're here.

Michael: Correct, Celestial Realm can only be accessed with demons if he has an invitation considering Uriel gave you one that means you can stay for a while. Either than that, you'll be considered an intruder and be thrown back to Devildom, or probably Hell who knows, it depends on Angel Rhamiel since he's the one in charge of that. But do come in Beel, we have plenty of food for you^^

Beel: What a coincidence! I'm actually a little hungry! Come on, sugar^^

Ichigo: Eum, okay!

The breakfast proceeds with Beel this time sitting beside Ichigo and Luke moving so Beel and Ichigo can sit next to each other. Their lovey-dovey-ness makes Solomon more guilty because he technically almost ruined such a beautiful and healthy relationship.

Michael: Feeling guilty now, I see...

Solomon: What...?

Beel: Oh? Did he do something?

Michael: It's nothing^^ It'd be such a disgrace if I expose him in front of a guest. Anyways, have you heard the news about Shadow King trying to take over all 3 realms?

Beel: I did, Levi is preparing the navies from the ocean to help us. It might turn into a big tsunami and all. I'll be also helping since I have lots of underlings and all. Well all seven of us do have each of our underlings for this since we're technically the 7 lords of hell.

Michael: True, I suppose they're against the union of all 3 realms considering they're attacking Celestial realm as well.

Beel: Shadow King has always been enemies with Diavolo so no wonder he's gonna destroy his plan.

And so, Michael and Beel end up discussing what they'll do as Luke, Solomon, and Ichigo just eat confusedly because it's army stuff they have no idea off. Okay, maybe Solomon understands what's going on but he's a human so the angel and demon system is a bit confusing for him.

Beel: Speaking of which, is there a room I can sleep in?

Michael: Hmm perhaps Ichigo's room and I'll move Solomon to Luke's room?

Luke: Why can't she just sleep in my room?

Beel and Solomon: No!

Ichigo: ....??

Michael: [sigh] Perhaps that's a good idea. Ichigo, you'll be moving to Luke's room.

Ichigo: That's great! Right, Luke?

Luke: Yeah! Sucks to be you two! [laughs]

That was it, Ichigo ends up in Luke's room which is also Simeon's room so she's technically using Simeon's bed or vice versa while Beel ends up in Solomon's room. But we'll return to that soon, for now, let them rest peacefully^^

#obey me fanfiction #roleplaybased #mymc #obey me solomon #obey me beelzebub #obey me luke #hahaeveryoneisasimpforichigo

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fanmoose12 · 4 years

Note

royal au is my jammmmm. i like to imagine that people in hanji's and levi's court envy their love in a way. like seeing king levi having that soft look in his eyes for hanji??? ppl wish they were on the receiving end of his fond looks. or how hanji is able to calm levi down by just placing her hand over his? amazing, beautiful, outstanding. or how levi has that deadly look in his eyes when a dumbass king from other kingdom tries to butter hanji up? possessive king alert

how hanji is able to calm levi down by just placing her hand over his? i’m so soft now?????? also levi probably can do the same to hange, since we all know how quick to anger she is. he probably whispers something like ‘it’s not worth it, four-eyes, calm down. we can fuck that bastard up later’ and hange’s like ‘yep, you’re right, thanks for reminding me, love.’ also???? when they’re dancing during the balls, gazing into each other’s eyes as though nothing else matters??? the guests have to look away from them, cause it feels like they’re intruding on something extremely intimate lmao

#i love royal aus #that's the best thing really

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Okay but how does Regis' dinner with his Demon King not-so go???? U can't just LEAVE that there, do Chocobros 1.0 get an explanation? Does tiny!Cor attack Noct and get gently put down by the the Dark Retinue and just, instantly idolize these SERIOUSLY OP but also v tired warriors?

XDD Well technically I COULD but I won’t. FICLET TIME.

The Chocobros 1.0 do NOT get an explanation (not a full one anyway) because nobody is up to explain the whole “your kids from another dimension that died and woke up here and accidentally usurped a kingdom with the crash landing”.

Instead, after the Night King blandly warns that any attacks on his person will end badly, so please don’t, and please don’t attack the servants either they’re just doing their jobs, he waves a hand and the daemons release Regis and Co. Very slowly, warily, they stand up and rub feeling back into their limbs. Their weapons were taken away, and in this AU while Regis and co have Elemancy and other fancy magic, they DON’T have Armiger (it’s a lost art in this world, so Regis would have to be taught how to access it) so they can’t just yank more out of thin air as they assess their situation (heart of enemy territory, at the feet of the Immortal Accursed who is acting surprisingly nice but has been terrorizing their kingdom off and on for literal centuries). Regis opens his mouth to maybe cautiously ask a question when Cor shakes out the last kinks in his back-.

Then dives for the Night King with bare hands sparking with lightning.

Regis doesn’t get time to tell Cor to stop and the Accursed doesn’t even blink or startle. He doesn’t even move because he doesn’t have to.

The board-shouldered man with Amicitia gold eyes and two scars on his face stops Cor in his tracks. Regis isn’t even sure where the man came from, he moved so fast. He was just there, casually deflecting Cor’s attack without flinching from the lightning, then catching Cor’s follow-up attack with an almost lazy gesture.

Cor winds up winded on the floor at the man’s feet. The man in question rumbles a laugh while letting a frantic Weskham and cursing Cid drag Cor back into their group by his ankles, “Nice try kid, but you’re about three decades too early to pull that off.”

“I’m sorry for him,” Regis manages past the vice in his throat, because Regis can see the Night King watching Cor with a contemplative expression he can’t understand (why is the Accursed looking at Cor like that, with an expression that could ALMOST be called fond-), “He’s young.”

“I remember,” the Accursed says, but does not elaborate on what he remembers (being that young? Others who were like Cor? Information his spies brought him on Cor?) The king shakes his head and looks over at the shadows, “Prompto.”

Yet another human slides out of the shadows, this one as clearly of Niflheim descent as the grinning bear of a man is of Amicitia blood (and Regis can feel Clarus trembling at that, is trying not to think of it himself, because that paired with the Night King’s black hair and blue-blue eyes....). The newcomer smiles like the sun, a shockingly genuine expression in a place like this, “Lemme guess, guest duty?”

The Night King’s expression shifts from mild and unreadable for the first time, a delicate half-smile sliding onto his face that makes him seem unnervingly ... human, “Iggy should be finished soon, just ... escort them to the dining room. Maybe a tour.”

The blond man (Prompto? Is that his name?) laughs, calm and easy, and gestures for Regis and his Retinue to follow him, “Sure thing, Your Majesty. Come on intruder-guests, His Royal Highness needs to finish business in here without gawkers.”

Numb and confused, even Cor meekly follows the man out past the daemons and into the strange, endlessly tall building that served as the Night King’s home (hard to call it a castle with no ramparts or walls, just a tower as large as a small village that reached-reached-reached for the sky, the methods to build it lost centuries ago). The man (Prompto, he introduces himself as) leads them down halls lit by ghostly blue lights where torches should be, past daemons dressed like servants, who bow deeply to their guide as they pass and make no move to attack. Along the way, the man chatters amiably, pointing out meaningless trivia that would do nothing to help should they try to escape but was almost amusing were it not for the circumstances.

At one point, Cor lunges for Prompto’s back before Regis can stop him (Cid curses as the boy worms out of Cid’s grip unexpectedly, he’s getting better at escaping each time they try to stop him from getting into trouble). Cor snatches a decorative but razor sharp knife from a display rack as he goes, diving for Prompto’s back.

The man sidesteps without even looking, easily swipes Cor’s feet out from under him, then sidesteps again when Cor rolls with the fall and comes up swinging. Regis is tempted to try joining in, to try to get AWAY but by the time he’s thought it, the fight is already over and Cor is dazedly staring at Regis from where he’s been pinned against the wall by Prompto, “Dude,” says the member of the Dark King’s court, “rude. Wait until after dinner or something yeah? Pretty sure His Majesty will let you borrow a training room if you want to go a few rounds with me or Gladio.”

Cor twitches against the hold, but doesn’t really dare move because Prompto is holding the knife now and it is dangerously (lazily) close to Cor’s neck, “You’re faster than Gilgamesh,” Cor wheezes angrily, “How are you faster than Gilgamesh?”

Prompto doesn’t even blink at the mention of the ancient Swordmaster’s name, just lets Cor go with a shove that propels him into Clarus’s arms, “Please. Gilga-brat,” Clarus choked on his spit at the nickname, “has got nothing on Iggy when it comes to speed. Not even close. Assuming you stay for a day or two, ask your king if you can spar with Gladio a few rounds or something”

“Assuming we survive the night?” Weskham asks dryly.

Prompto blinks at him as if surprised, then grins, the expression sharp with something Regis can’t place (it almost seems like grief, but that can’t be).

They arrive in the dining room to find another human, a man with horrible scars mostly hidden beneath strange glasses that have to be too dark to see through and oddly stretched to wrap around the front of his face rather than being small, round little lenses like Regis is used to. The man is expertly directing a positive mob of Tonberry and Arachne, pointing out where to put the plates and where to adjust something all without so much as turning his head in the direction of the people he’s instructing. Regis wonders with a prickling chill if he has some kind of power given to him by the Night King. Surely all of the human inhabitants have SOME reason for staying in this place, either curses, thrall marks, or the promise of unnatural magic. Regis glimpses the woman from before, but she disappears through a different door before he can really look at her.

The blind man tips his head in their direction, “Ah, our guests. Your Highness, you sit in that chair if you will,” he gestures to the plush seat opposite the one clearly meant for the Night King and Regis falters at the implied equality between him and the Accursed, but the man is already directing the others to their seats and all they can do is tentatively creep past the bustling Tonberry and sit as food more fitting for an Altissian Royal Banquet than a castle of evil is laid out before them. He knows he should be wary, but after weeks of travel on only rations and campfire cooking, the sight and smell makes his mouth water.

Moments after they are seated, the Night King sweeps in, his Amicitia on his heels. The woman reappears alongside a boy who must be Cor’s age (physically anyway) and they seat themselves. Regis notices that the arrangement is a mirror of his own Retinue.

The prickling feeling increases.

They eat only because Regis is terrified of pushing the Accursed into acting like- well- the Accursed, even though he’s half afraid he’s eating people or something with every bite (it tastes amazing though, like fine dishes and rare spices, not like daemon food at all so maybe he’s okay?). Over dinner, the Accursed makes very light, easy conversation, never asking why they tried to break into his kingdom or mentioning the fact that they were- you know- mortal enemies. Regis doesn’t understand what the trick is and that scares him.

Finally Clarus breaks. He does not slam the table, he is more controlled than that, but he puts his utensils down and clears his throat, “May I be permitted to ask a question, Your Majesty?”

The Night King looks up and there is surprise in his eyes for just a moment, “Speak freely,” he answers dryly after a moment, “you’re hardly going to say anything I have not heard before.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Weskham shoots Clarus a sharp look and Regis pinches the bridge of his nose. The Night King tilts his head like he doesn’t understand, “Clarify.”

“Why are you entertaining us as honored guests? We are all members of your sworn enemies, of Lucis that you have spent centuries trying to destroy. Why show us courtesy? Why have the attacks on Lucis stopped to begin with?”

The Night King sits back and looks ... so genuinely flummoxed Regis almost finds himself believing it. The Accursed looks at his Dark Retinue, who all openly shrug save Ignis, who adjusts his strange glasses without comment. The Accursed frowns, then calls to the rafters, “Sheria?”

An Arachne, so old she’s massive, easily descends from the rafters (Cor’s breathing goes pointedly measured, he never could stand arachnids of any kind). The Arachne leans down and murmurs something into the Night King’s ear that the Dark Retinue can apparently hear because now all of them are blinking. The Accursed nods slowly and dismisses the giant daemon, then rubs his forehead, “Lovely. Just great. Why did no one tell me this when I took the Astral-cursed job-.”

The blind man’s lips twitch, “Noct,” he murmurs softly and there is an entire conversation in that one word. The Night King throws his head back and groans like a teenager, sits up straight and shatters Regis’s world with a casual, “Yea I didn’t do any of that stuff. I’ve only been King for ... I think a year now? About a year. Still catching up on all the paperwork and stuff.” He pauses, “The raids on your kingdom DID stop right? I ordered all raids be put on hold indefinitely on my first day.”

Regis is pretty sure he’s not breathing anymore, “You ... have only been ... for a year?” He manages a strangled gasp, squeaks out, “Then you aren’t the Accursed?”

The man waves a hand impatiently, as if the title was an annoying fly, “Formal title. Blame my uncle, he was always a drama queen.”

“...Uncle?”

The Dark Retinue is definitely snickering now as the Night King (?) props his chin on a hand and says, “Yeah, my Uncle. The original Accursed. I finally killed him a year ago, which makes me the new Night King.”

Cid runs a hand through his hair, “Ah thought the Accursed was immortal.”

“Yes, he was. Only one of his blood could kill him, everything else just bounced off. We fought, I won, so he died. That’s ... how it works. Next question.”

Cor speaks up next, because Regis is still trying to get his world to stop shattering, “So you ... aren’t going to kill us?”

A fractured expression and the deceptively human, amiable mien cracks to show ancient, terrible, grieving anger. In that moment the man before him seems centuries old, not somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties and Regis can BELIEVE that the man (men, and woman, because the others have similar expressions if not so deep and ancient) is an Immortal. Has seen things too old for Regis to comprehend.

“No,” the man answers and his voice cracks with emotion as he looks away, “No, I’m not going to kill you. I don’t want to kill anyone. I did my killing. I don’t want to do anymore.” And there is ... something so very fragile in those words, so very broken and tired and Regis suddenly realizes that ... this was the first Accursed’s nephew, family, he had assumed this man killed the other out of desire for the throne but what if...

What if it have been a desperate desire to make the death and madness stop?

“Is there something we can call you,” Regis hears himself saying, his heart going out against his will to this dangerous, strange immortal, “other than your titles? Is there a name you prefer?”

The looks the Dark Retinue send him are approving and surprised, and the tight line in the Night King’s shoulders unwind, “...Noctis. Please, call me Noctis.”

#SE asks #alyss-spazz-penedo asks #Demon in the Dark verse #Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #poor noctis #telling the truth #while everyone immediately comes to the wrong conclusion #*cackles*

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talesofealdancynedom · 3 years

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Meriam Craweleoth & Felin Haracwen, as girls in normal nobles clothes, wandering the local magic forest; Hope you didn’t forget chapter one, because it’s about to hurt.

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 10.1 -

Another Day 10/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

none

At dawn, Meriam, Fredrick, and Eatheltwein, headed down to the dining hall for breakfast. To their surprise, they saw they had a guest; who was sitting across from princess Charlette, Eathel’s new wife. No one had stopped their intruder for one reason: they had seen him before.

Murdoc was helping himself at the table, surrounded by books, and his panther familiar Stearra, purring at his ankles. He ate like a small child, that just learned to use a spoon. Everyone took their seat, as the servants brought them dishes. They all ate their food quietly as dawn light poured in.

“Pardon me, master Monafyra-” The king started.

“You can call me Murdoc.” He said, without looking up. The pure audacity made everyone in the room livid, but not so much as to make any of them speak up.

“Yes. Murdoc... Why are you in my dinning room? And how and when did you intrude our palace?”

“I walked in the front of course,” Mudoc said, continuing to eat. He was wearing his plum and black wolf fairy robes, which made apear like an animal. He looked older than Meriam had remembered; she had lost track of time.

“You had many guards, but none of them stopped me. Either they knew who I was, or what I was. All of this is irrelevant to the fact I came to deliver some news; again. Then, there was gravy, eggs, and bread; And I saw no point in refusing the kindness of others.” Murdoc continued, whilst gesticulating and chewing. Fredrick waved his hand, letting Murdoc carry on; now that he had finished his food.

“I come to give lord Eatheltwein my journals, as I am retiring form magic to settle down in my homeland; don’t seek me. King Edmond used his power to give me refuge. Th people of The Far North believe mages can be made to give up magic. Your kingdom however, Meriam, is not so polite. I have visited each of our mage friends, only to see a trail of bodies. All our dear friends are nothing more then illustrations of tragedy, on my parchment. At the hands of wizards, I’m sorry to say. Common folk no longer think that mages are necessary to wield magic; as if that’s was all our worth. Even my brother Tiberius, and his daughter Fyra, turned out to be dead on my way here. I have good stealth magic to evade people. Unlike you, Craweleoth.”

“You come to tell us mages are dying, wizardry is spreading, and that the people of the Grand West of Anglia, are coming to kill my wife?” the king coughed.

“Aunt Merry can use time magic; she can get away, I’m sure.” Eatheltwein said, looking at Meriam, who stared back in fear. Everyone knew of the Mage Queen, but no one knew Eatheltwein was a mage. They had been led to believe he was a wizard, just as she had planned.

“You have all the time to run away Meriam, but no matter which way you turn, the events that transpire in Ealden Cynedom always snap back; you will die. Eventually. They will come for you shortly, I suppose.” Murdoc said. Then he read the room. Meriam looked petrified, Charlette was confused, Eathel was sad, and the king looked unwell. “I know death when I see it, my lady.” He concluded. Murdoc got up, thanked the servants, left all his journals next to Eathel and Meriam, and left.

“On a good note, we were invited to the borders of Francia, by my king father; to shake hands for peace! Aren’t you happy Queen Merry? Peace at last! We can all heal because of you.” Charlette chimed. The king coughed on his food, and Meriam rubbed his shoulder staring unblinkingly at Charlette. Eatheltwein seemed exuberant. Charolette’s words did not comfort Meriam. She was equally scared to go to boarder. Meriam hadn’t been there since she was off to get married; and saw her friend be murdered by her own people. To think, she was excited not two days earlier.

The royal court traveled steadily to the border between Francia, and Anglia. It rained, and then it shined, and then they reached the open meadows, that were starting to yellow as harvest season approached. Both parties stood a hill apart. Charlette waved to her father, who walked forward.

“Dear, I still feel unwell. Would you like to shake for peace? This was your mission.” Fredrick asked. Meriam nodded. She slowly walked forward through the grass. It smelled woody and dry, and brushed her skirt like when she used to run around as a girl. She continued onward. The uniforms of the Francian guards accompanying their king, hung loose, and their faces were sad and tiered. Meriam continued. Just at the border pole, Meriam stopped; there was some clover blooming by it, and dirt trailing along the boarder. The king stopped and held out his hand. He was not happy.

“Mage Queen. Your nephew is pleased with my girl, who appears to be in good care. We are tiered, and we wish to retire. Why do you not shack on peace, now that I’m repenting for my foolish legacy? Instead, you stare at clover that is at our feet.” The Francian king snapped. Meriam stared at it, and a tear went down her face.

“Did you know I was born in Francia, by Fort De Lapin. The magic forest of The Rat Rate. I grew up here, and I learned magic here. My mother left, thus my father found the daughter of a warlock, who had also recently had a baby. My milk sister Filen Heracwen, meant the world to me. She died here, trying to see me off as I was forced to marry against my will; she was shot by one of your men, for trying to leave with me. Possibly to send a massage of your own people, the reason doesn’t matter. I bet there isn’t anyone alive who remembers her name, or that she loved magic and her kingdom. She wanted to be my hand maid, and go with me on quests. Yet she died here, without a family to burry her, or siblings to mourn her. She passed before she could wed; unlike me, She wanted to merry a farm boy, and have three kids. Have her first daughter named Odette. Felin thought it was a pretty name for a girl. She went dark to open the Rat Gate, even though she was a commoner, because she loved magic so much, she wanted help it. Yet, she died before wizardry could give her that. And her only kin, uncle Normanwe was not there for her, because he was dying on your behalf in far off battle. I look at the clover, because it reminds me of her. This is the closest thing she will ever get to a funeral. Fourty years too late. I am sad, because I never got to attend. I am sad, because a young lady needlessly died, when she had a future in front of her. I am sad soldiers would kill a civilian. I am sad I got taken away from my home, and now that I am back, I wish to leave.” Meriam sobbed. Her voice echoed across the field to both sides, as it grew in volume and tears. Everyone stopped, and looked at the clover. Everyone had forgotten, or was oblivious to, why Meriam wanted to stop the war so badly. It wasn’t because she saw Francia was an enemy; but because she didn’t want anyone else to die. It was too sad. Meriam didn’t want to have this funeral. Everyone began to cry, and not know why. In the absence of a head stone, or body, they felt like they were attending the wake of not just a girl, who could have lived, but for everyone they loved who died; For a war that had long lost its purpose, and unjustly claimed many. Everyone, on every side, had lost someone. And no one, on either side, had truly had the time and relief to just mourn. Meriam, who was considered the most formidable player around the world, reached out and shock the king’s hand. She held her chest and went to her knees wailing alone in the field. Shacking the hand of a man who was responsible for her pain. At long last, Meriam no longer felt hate, only pain.

When they arrived home, the king was ill. No doctor could figure out why, but he remained in bed. Meriam tended him, while Eatheltwein took up royal duties. Fredrick would not get better, no matter the rest or medicine provided. Meriam even tried magic methods. She was given her own chambers, as they feared she would catch his sickness. Then one mourning, the doctor came to Meriam in her study, and told her the man she loved, wed, and had shaped her whole life, was dead. He had lived long, but Meriam wished she could give him more time. She could, with magic, but she pushed away that intrusive thought. We will all die eventually; she could hear Murdoc say in her mind. But time is precious, and she could not let go of the possibility of saving everyone, if she went back for them. Meriam took three days to leave her bed. And wore her purple dress to Eatheltwein’s coronation, and to dance with him. She did not smile like the last time she was adorned like a courtly lady. She wondered if Fredrick would have liked to see her wear his favourite dress one last time. She even wore her Francian pearls, from when she was young, but was never aloud to wear. She wore no makeup, and had a pearl comb holding her hair back in a knot. In the mirror, she had aged half that of her husband, due to magic changing her appearance.

Before bed, she took off the dress and held it; the fabric was still warm. In her bath, Meriam realized she loved that dress too. It felt like she was dancing with Fredrick again when she wore it. Remined her of his smell and smile. The dress was perfect, and barely worn. It was light, airy, flowy, soothing, and feminine. Unlike her black crushed velvet fairy robes. Her protective fairy robes were a magic gift made by the Fairy King, yet had half the value of that periwinkle gown. Then, Meriam wondered something: if all mages had fairy robes, which protect against spell and sword, why did they all die if they knew wizards were coming? Why did they choose to remove their robes and surrender to death? She thought. Meriam did not sleep well, as she mulled over mortality, and impending doom. She didn’t want everyone’s stories to end while hers continued. Her bed felt so cold without Fredrick next to her.

In the middle of the night, Eatheltwein came into Meriam’s new chambers, and sat next to her bed.

“Are you awake, aunt Merry?” He asked. Meriam shrugged in response. Eathel put the candle on the side table, and lay next to her on top of the sheets.

“Charlette told me to come and see how you’re doing; without uncle. I am so sad. We have peace at our borders, and wives hold their husbands; but you are alone. No other mages, children, or husband. Just me. I will miss you too someday. Are you also scared of the Wizards? What will you do if they come here for the raven gate, and for you?” Eatheltwein whispered. Meriam never thought about that. She was busy wishing for other people.

“I wish you to tell everyone you’re a wizard, and to not go into the shadow veil to see your cousin Odette. I want you to hide, bury or destroy the Raven Gate, so no one wanders into it. I want you to be happy, when I’m gone.”

“You would let them take you, so that they can feel secure? Even if it is a lie, and mages will still be born to magic families?”

“I don’t know. But I think that may have been what happened to my friends around the world. Remember Eathel; magic does not have sides, or possess malice. It would make sense not to fight, and instead accept destiny.”

“I don’t think your capable of either of those thing’s, aunt Merry.” Eatheltwein laughed. He was still a source of sunshine. Meriam reached over her sheets to hold his hand.

“Can you stay? For tonight.” Meriam asked. Eatheltwein nodded.

“Can we go on one last adventure, before I’m a wizard and king, figuring out how to transition power before our people invent guillotines. For old times sake?” Eatheltwein asked earnestly. Meriam laughed and grabbed his hand closer.

“Yes. Yes, we may your majesty. I think Fredrick would have wanted us to be happy too.”

Just before dawn, while the servants woke and prepared for the day, Eatheltwein and Meriam snuck out of the palace in their fairy robes. A note was left for Charlette; telling her to keep their location secret, unless they never returned. Which she was inclined to do, as keeping secrets is exciting if you’re a noble woman. In the streets, the peasants were busy starting work and waking, and the knights were changing shifts. Merchants started to set up, or pack to leave to their next market. Meriam didn’t even need to freeze time to get by. Only as they reached the Raven Gate, in the square, did Meriam pause time.

“Eathel, where do you want to go?” Meriam said, clasping his hands in excitement. She had hit the point of sadness, that results in manic giddiness when you can no longer cry, and have sleep depravation.

“Bantia! I’ve never herd or seen a single person from the land south the of Dania, and north of The Far South of Hispania. I bet that is the only magic forest you haven’t seen aunt Merry!” Eathltwein gleamed with the glow of dawn.

“No, actually I haven been to the wolf gate in North Moon, nor plan to…. Which means Bntia must have the Tree Gate… Magic plants… That colourful forested area in the shadow veil.” Meriam mused. Now she was curious; her seer nature made her thirst for magic knowledge once more. Meriam grasped Eatheltweins hand, and they leapt into the shadow veil through the Raven Gate one last time.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #short stories #fantasy #meriam #felin #eatheltwein

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meereens · 4 years

Text

a dream of spring rarepairs week - day 2: children

A little foster brother might be just what Tommen needs to wean him away from Margaery and her hens. In time they might grow as close as Robert and his boyhood friend Ned Stark.

On Tommen’s ninth nameday, Mother stuffs him into a spring green Essosi doublet with a gold thread lion in the center. The lion is supposed to have two rubies for eyes, but one must have fallen out somewhere along the way—look, Mother, he’s winking—and Mother goes out into the hall to sternly talk at some maid until he hears a muffled sob. Her cheeks are splotched with red when she returns, red as lost rubies, and Tommen casts his gaze downward. His poor one-eyed lion is less frightening. Mother holds his shoulder like a plump mouse in a claw.

“Thieves in Maegor’s Holdfast,” she seethes, digging in her nails. “Were Maegor still master here, those little sneaks would have their eyes put out and their innards broiled for their treachery.”

“What did you say to her?”

“To whom?”

“The...our servant?”

“Servant no longer,” Mother tells him as her hands move to his laces. “Dorcas! Fetch us something green or gold, with gems sewn in. We cannot have the king playing the pauper on his special day.”

The large woman standing behind a screen for his privacy silently shuffles over to his wardrobe while Mother rips him out of his clothes. The lion splits open, loosening the garment, and he holds up his arms so she can wiggle it over his head.

“You must especially look your best to meet Lady Merryweather’s present.”

That excites Tommen. Meeting means something to make friends with, something to have and to hold like a—

“Is it a kitten?” There can never be too many kittens in the Red Keep.

“No, but you will play together.”

Tommen pouts at that. It will probably be a cuddly rabbit or a little puppy that will grow into a fearsome hound, animals that are lovable enough but cannot capture his heart in the same vein as cats. Margaery understands, he thinks. The doublet Dorcas comes back with is gold, with slashed sleeves, pearl buttons, and garnets lining the neck and shoulders in a crescent shape. His lion had more character, this he knows, but Mother seems at least more pleased than she was before, so he wears it down to the tourney held for his day.

And what a tourney. Joff’s—his heart does a sad little flip whenever he’s reminded of Joff—was pure fun since they put an enemy straw man out for him to batter, but it was a shame they chose to hold it behind castle walls instead of outside by the bubbling of the river and the chirps of baby birds in trees. His is along the Blackwater, as it should be, and all the Tyrells come out to greet him first in varying shades of green. Margaery’s gown is the palest mint, her hair worn loose with a circlet of cloth buttercups on top. Buttercup would be a good name for a cat. She smiles and takes his arm, but as they are about to ascend to their seats, Mother says, “Lady Merryweather, don’t we have a guest for the royal box?”

All eyes turn to Mother’s friend, standing near the back of the rapidly growing group. An olive-skinned boy smaller than him peers out from behind her skirts.

“Russell, go on and introduce yourself to His Grace.”

The boy rushes forward, punches off the ground, then flips before landing neatly at Tommen’s feet. He is too stunned to respond, much less clap for him. Mother does, prompting a few ladies to follow in her example. Russell kneels, and he notices how bushy his hair is, thick black tufts that stick out at every possible angle. He looks to Margaery for what to say, but her face is set in the same soft smile.

“From this day on, Russell will be the Crown’s fosterling,” Mother announces in a regal voice. This time, everybody claps.

Russell’s nameday is today, and he keeps on reminding Tommen that he has to tumble for him the way he did for his ninth.

“I was six and I had more skill in my pinky toe than you do now,” he boasts, puffing up his chest like a proud bird about to shit over a parapet. He taught him that expression, foul mouth included. He always wants to teach him things, from how to tumble to how to lie without bursting into tears to how to start a fight in Flea Bottom and come out scratchless. Half of what Russell claims he’s done when they’re not training sounds like something out of a fable; Lann the Clever’s natural son born thousands of years too late.

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll box you on the nose,” he teases.

“Not fair—it’s too big a target.”

His nose can charitably be called a lightly beaten potato; Tommen was shocked to discover nobody broke it. Grinning, he pulls his companion by the arm and leads him through winding stone corridors, their feet pounding at such a pace that Ser Loras has to run along to play his role as Kingsguard. Russell’s luck struck again when it came time to choose a mentor, since Mother wouldn’t allow the Knight of Flowers to serve as his. “But Ser Loras is my favorite,” he said when she revealed Ser Addam Marbrand would be his knight instead. “Favorites change,” she said.

My favorites never will. He almost misses the Queen’s Ballroom, backing up into Russell as they skid to a halt.

“Are you holding a ball for me?” he launches into asking. “No—a feast?”

It must be hard for him, not knowing. Even worse, being the only one who doesn’t know. He is the first to whisper did you hear when they break their fast together, followed by an enticing rumor he hopes is not true or a tale so outrageously wild he hopes it is.

“No,” Tommen says as Ser Loras opens the doors. “We’re holding court.”

Inside, thick woolen carpets have been placed on the floor, and tapestries of contented animals lounging in meadows and forests cover the walls. There are three large chairs side-by-side, like he asked for, and Margaery sits in the rightmost with a cream kitten on her lap.

The kittens. Everywhere, the kittens. Clawing at loose threads in the wool, or curled up to nap, kittens litter the ground like snow in Winterfell. Each of Margaery’s ladies holds one, waiting dutifully in a line facing the thrones, while servants scoop up more balls of fluff with cradling hands. Grown cats prowl the ballroom as well, though there are fewer in their ranks. A velvet-capped bard strums a jolly tune as two striped ones twine about his ankles. The overall effect is the closest thing to paradise Tommen can imagine; Russell’s mouth is agape.

“You...you didn’t.”

“I did!”

Margaery claps twice. “Presenting the Court of Cats!”

“You know I don’t like them,” Russell groans, but follows him through the horde regardless.

“You will.”

His friend has never had an appreciation for cats, holding his pets at a distance when Tommen brings them in to play or pretending they make him sniffle and sneeze. When pressed, he gives a flimsy excuse like I don’t understand them.

That ends here today. Once Russell finds a cat to fall in love with, his doubts will melt away like rain. He knows they will; it is even surer than his father’s kingly blood running through his heart.

“If this is the Court of Cats, does that make you the king of cats?”

He giggles as he takes the left chair. “Perhaps, though you’re the guest of honor. Sit!”

Megga Tyrell presents first, hoisting a white kitten with a black face up for all to see.

“Darling,” says Margaery.

“Adorable,” says Tommen.

“Looks like it dipped itself in soot,” mutters Russell.

The king and queen exchange a look. “On to the next, then.”

And so it goes. Every time a kitten is presented, even if the Mother’s most perfectly crafted creation, Russell manages to find fault with it. Some are mewling too much, or might as well be mute. Some have too much softness to their limbs, or are too scrawny. Some have tasseled ears that look silly, or their ears are too plain. Once he dismisses an exquisite silver kitten with pale green eyes because it reminds him of another cat that stole a piece of bread. Margaery’s ladies wilt one by one, letting their offerings back onto the floor to search for new ones that will undoubtedly get rejected also. The Court of Cats seems more and more pointless when—

“Shoo! Get out! This isn’t your place, you mangy beast!”

One of the servants is trying to drive a dirty yellow cat away from the others. She kicks it with her foot, but it dives back between her heels, almost causing her to trip.

“What’s going on there?” Russell calls out.

The woman swoops down and catches the cat, who struggles madly from between her brawny arms.

“Apologies, m’lord, this one must’ve snuck in. I’ll throw it out right away.”

“No, bring it here. I want to see.”

Tommen eyes the proceedings with new interest. The intruder is uglier than the bad cat that used to visit his window at night, sporting a crooked, scowling jaw and missing its left eye.

“He’s a pirate cat,” Russell declares. “He lost his eye at sea.”

“It sounds like you like him,” he says.

“I don’t like him—I respect him.”

“That is a good start, is it not?” asks Margaery.

The cat seems to think not, as he starts yowling at the top of his lungs.

“His name is Buttercup,” Russell says, and the king of cats cannot contain his glee.

He is almost sixteen. Almost a man grown, and feeling half a boy. Lady Olenna pulled him aside in the garden the other day to insinuate about performing husbandly duties, which he knows he has to get around to doing sooner or later. But why not later rather than sooner? Margaery is three-and-twenty, in the bloom of her childbearing years, still fecund if they wait until he is eighteen or nineteen or twenty, and he is the king.

He has to remind himself he is the king. At the small council earlier, murmurings arose that the Queen of Meereen was planning to make her way across the narrow sea and reclaim what she believed to be her birthright. Russell’s father, his Hand for the past few years, fumbled around the issue before admitting they were woefully unprepared should dragonfire chance to rain down upon King’s Landing.

That has been my week—fire and bloodlines.

He cannot imagine any two things less appealing to think about. Ser Pounce, Boots, and Lady Whiskers trail him into the royal apartments, sticking their tails up at Ser Boros as they glide past. His bedchamber is a welcome sight, made more so by Russell tickling a surly Buttercup on the bed.

“From rags to the royal bedchamber,” he says when he catches sight of him. “This cat has the life bards dream of.”

“And what of your life?” Tommen asks as he sits by them. Buttercup hisses and slides off to lurk beneath.

“My life? I am the king’s dearest friend, of course! I whisper poison in your ear and thus I am well contented.”

“You do not.”

They stare at one another, until Russell goes cross-eyed and sticks his tongue out of the side of his mouth. Laughter bubbles from Tommen’s throat, spreading to the corners of his eyes and falling down as tears. When it dies down, he feels a sudden emptiness.

“I am glad our mothers made us friends.”

Russell snorts. “Our mothers didn’t make us do anything, no more than you made me adopt my Buttercup.”

“It seems like everybody is making me do things. My mother, the small council, even Margaery, sometimes. I am—I wish we could go be pirates.”

He feels the impact of arms being thrown around him immediately after he says it, the hug as instantly comfortable as it is crushing. “My poor king of cats,” Russell whispers. “They mean to take you away from me.”

I am king, Tommen thinks. But that does not mean he is free.

#tommen baratheon #asoiafrare #russell merryweather #asoiaf #tommen x russell #day two children #does that even have a tag lol #this is rough but it's time to submit so buckle in #can we stan characters who don't appear onpage?#mayhaps

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cupidmarwani-archive · 4 years

Text

(9/13)

After getting Ava dried off and into pajamas and bed, Sarah prepares herself for war. Someone dared to put their hands on her, choke her until her neck is stained with bruises and every breath sounds reedy. Later in the morning, she’ll send a doctor to check in. But first, she needs to know who’s responsible. And that means retracing Ava’s steps.

There are few cameras inside the palace, most of them geared toward keeping out intruders while the privacy of the family is protected, but she’s able to follow the smell of smoke and the directions of silent guards to where Ava came from when she found her way back to their room early this morning. The worker’s wing, and specifically, a room housing one of Ava’s that followed her here. Sarah knocks twice, hard and loud, before the door opens to show her tailor. Connor, if she remembers correctly.

He stares at her for a few seconds before letting her in. His room smells of smoke and Ava’s floral perfume, proof she was here, and there’s a moment where Sarah wonders if he’s the one who hurt her. There’s nothing to prove that he wasn’t. But she’s also extremely aware that he’s capable of it, and so she crosses her arms and stares at him, hoping he’ll just confess whatever he knows.

When that fails, she gestures for him to sit down while she continues to stand above him. “Ava came from your room this morning. She has bruises on her neck.”

“I had nothing to do with that, Your Highness, I swear.”

“Then who did?”

The best he can say is that he doesn’t know, making her unbelievably angry because she just wants to know who did this to Ava and why. Someone hurt her. Likely tried to kill her, based on the bruises and how freaked out she was, and Sarah needs to know so she can protect her, even if she has little to no actual personal investment in Ava. That’s what she tells herself, anyway.

“If I found out you had anything to do with it…”

“You won’t.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but the cracked door makes a strained noise as it opens fully, revealing a guard with a nervous expression on his face. He knows something. Maybe he did something. Sarah turns to stare at him head-on until he dares to open her mouth and tell her what’s on the tip of his tongue.

“If I may, Your Highness, I-” he looks to the ground. “I saw your beloved late last night, while guarding the king’s door. She went inside for a couple minutes, and when she came out, she was upset.”

“You didn’t follow her?”

It doesn’t matter, but she’s irritated that no one seemed to have actually cared to check on her. At least she’s got a better understanding of what happened; Ava must have gone to actually try and kill him, but rather than succeed, she got herself hurt badly. It could have been a guard, or her father, but neither option makes sense and she wants to know what happened.

She orders a guard she trusts- Ethan- to interview all the others during the day. Find out what they know. Everyone in the royal wing of the palace at the time, and keep it on camera, so that she can contend with her father, still thinking of the bruises on Ava’s throat. So dark and painful looking. The wheeze of Ava struggling to breathe. She needs to go to the infirmary, but Sarah doesn’t want her going anywhere until she knows she’s safe.

And that means breakfast with her father, just the two of them at the table, him acting like nothing happened. Even if he didn’t hurt Ava, in order for a guard to have done so, he must have ordered it. One way or another, he’s involved.

“Someone attacked Ava last night.”

“Is that what she said?”

Sarah pushes her breakfast around on her plate. She won’t be eating it with her nerves, but it’s been served nonetheless. “It’s what the handprints on her neck said.”

“She was in my room, Sarah.”

“Did she hurt you?”

He doesn’t answer. Even if she had, it doesn’t matter, because he’s fine and Ava can’t breathe and Sarah has hated him for more years than she hasn’t. No court in this kingdom will try him, but there’s still only two weeks before Sarah ascends to the throne, and then she’ll be able to get rid of him. Not kill him, but probably lock him up somewhere he can’t cause any trouble until he finally keels over. It’s only a matter of time, she tells herself.

“Did you do it yourself, or did a guard help?”

“I did it myself.”

While she probably can’t trust him, she chooses to. It makes her feel a little bit better about her staff. At that, she leaves, sending Ethan a message to relieve him of questioning and then alerting the infirmary that she’ll be there soon with Ava. Everything will be okay, she tells herself, until she gets to her room and Ava is curled up in bed, hair still wet and wrapped in a blanket, staring at the wall but not really seeing.

“Ava?”

No answer, as she comes closer and lifts the blanket. There are other marks on Ava’s body. Scars, mostly, on her back or her stomach. Another time, she’ll ask, but for now, she wraps Ava up tightly in the blanket and summons a guard to help carry her to the infirmary. Her neck comes first. For possibly the first time, Sarah wonders what life was like for Ava, growing up with the family she did. Those who would hit Ethan in the face with a plate simply for not being a waiter are the same who raised Ava. What did they do to her? What did she do to them?

It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but making sure she’s physically alright for now, as a guard brings her to help and Sarah puts in an order that she be kept updated while she tends to the million other things that need doing today. Putting in her new budget for the upcoming year and debating with parliament about her high budget for welfare. Finishing touches on her coronation gown. Getting Ethan a new set of formals because his got stained at the wedding.

Speaking of Ethan, she needs to make sure that Connor gets formals as well. There’s no doubt in her mind that he’ll be attending as Ethan’s guest, but neither of them will think about formals until it’s too late. Ethan’s all too focused on his duties, and Connor- Connor wore oversized Baille formals leftover from a former servant to the wedding because he didn’t have his own. She should have someone in charge of that.

As Natalie takes in the top of the sleeves on her gown, leaving the ends flared like a bell, Sarah realizes she should probably commission a coronation gown for Ava too. Things are starting to become her responsibility, not just her father’s or her assistants’ but hers. Perhaps she’s not ready to be queen.

“My father tried to kill Ava last night,” she says, bending her elbow to let Nat work on the hems. “He choked her. She’s in the infirmary now, she’s having trouble breathing.”

She hums slightly and pulls out a pin. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear it, but you saw what she did to Ethan.”

“What?”

“His face, at the wedding.”

Sarah flinches. “Ava didn’t do that, it was one of her cousins.”

Although she doesn’t argue, Natalie doesn’t seem to believe her either, as she works on the gown for the next half hour in uncomfortable silence. Ethan said she didn’t hit him, Ava said she didn’t hit him, and Sarah doesn’t want to think either of them are liars. In a matter of hours, any fragile trust she’s built in Ava since the wedding is disintegrating rapidly. Her confidence in herself does the same.

If only she had been able to protect herself from this marriage in the first place, maybe things would be better.

@bipeteypie @one-chicago-hell @bookreader525 @sarahreeese @sextonsharpwinhalstead @isthiswhatshameis @jorgerules

#sarah reese #ava bekker #reesker #chicago med #fic #mine #hlo!fic

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dazzlingphoenix · 4 years

Text

Dragons of Lockra: The Shards of Dawn Light

Chapter 6: A Dark Morning

The morning was dreary and cloudy, much reflecting the mood of the castle. Rain pattered harshly against the mountain, while thunder rumbled off in the distant Talons of The Heros.

A brisk knock at the door had stirred the princess from her sleep. Kaia had told her that her presence with the Queen was needed, and so she double checked that the scrolls were safe and trotted down the stairs with the guardsdragon. The walk down the tower was quick and quiet, unusual for Kaia who was usually quite talkative. The guardsdragon guided Veneasha to the throne room where her mother was.

The throne room was abuzz with the soft murmurs of guards. Queen Ruby was standing by her throne instead of sitting, talking to a large brown dragon in front of her. Veneasha trotted over next to her mother and gave a bow to the visitor.

“King Briar of the Thorn Runners,” She said curtly, looking back up to the young leader. “What brings you to our castle?”

“Hello Princess Veneasha,” The king smiled down at her. “I was sent here upon hearing that one of my subjects had gone missing near the border of our tribes. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Yes, I do,” The princess gave King Briar a sharp look. “Your subject in question had entered our castle uninvited and was en route to steal important documents from us.”

“I hope you have a good explanation for this, Briar,” Ruby told him lowly. “Or else you and your tribe are going to get into some trouble.”

“Now now, let’s not get too feisty here,” The king chuckled. “You still need to hear my end of this silly tale.” Veneasha’s mother leaned down to her, still making eye contact with the king.

“Go get your siblings,” Ruby told her. “It appears we’re going to have a Court of Royals today.”

“Yes, mother.” Veneasha nodded, an excited smile curling onto her muzzle. She took off running to her brother’s room, her tail swaying behind her. She wound around the castle halls, knowing each and every shortcut to the grand mountain palace.

A Court of Royals, The princess thought to herself. I haven’t seen one of those in person before! The princess finally found the prince’s door, covered in gold and citrine gems.

“Valor,” Veneasha called, knocking on the door. “Mom needs us right now, we’re going to have a Court of Royals with King Briar today.”

“Court of Royals?” Her brother asked lazily from inside. “What’s that?”

“Valor you nincompoop,” The princess groaned with annoyance. “I’ll explain it on the way to Vara’s room. Just get out here!” A similar annoyed groan sounded from Valor as he opened the door and stood by his sister. They took their time and walked the long way to their eldest sister’s room, Valor starting their chat.

“So, the Court of Regals-”

“Royals.” Veneasha interjected.

“Right.. The Court of Royals,” Valor continued. “What’s it about?”

“The Court of Royals is an ancient event that can be traced back to Disyun’s time,” The princess started to explain. “It’s when two tribe leaders get into an argument and want to discuss it rationally instead of using their claws. Each royal dragon from both tribes must meet in a room and discuss the problem to try and avoid war.”

“Sounds boring,” The prince sighed. “Reading a book sounds more interesting than that!” They both laughed as they arrived at Vara’s door.

“Hey Vara,” Veneasha called out, knocking on the door. “We’re having a Court of Royals with Briar. Mom needs us in the throne room.”

“I will be down in a minute,” The heir responded from within. “Tell mother I am preparing.” Veneasha rolled her eyes before agreeing and trotting back towards the throne room, Valor by her side.

When they made it to the throne room, Vara had caught up with the siblings. The room had cleared out beside a scribe and a few guards for the family’s protection. They all sat in their respective thrones while their mother stood, waiting for the guest to join. King Briar wasted no time, entering the room with an unnecessary amount of flamboyancy.

“King Briar of the Thorn Runner Tribe,” Ruby said in a serious voice. “You have been called to defend yourself in this Court of Royals. We shall bring out the dragon that had violated our borders for you to speak with.” She walked back to her throne as a guard pulled out the chained up dragon, who was walking without resistance. The dragon pulled off his muzzle clamp but kept his wings and tail secure.

“Your Majesty and your highnesses,” Briar chuckled. “Threadspinner here was just getting something for me. I had received a message that there were some scrolls to pick up from your castle, and so I sent someone to get them!”

“Do you have the message to prove it?” Ruby asked, narrowing her eyes onto his. The king nodded and held out a small scroll. A guard walked forward and grabbed the scroll from him. Unfolding it, he read aloud.

“King Briar, there are scrolls of major importance for you or one of your dragons to pick up here at Sunpeak Castle. It is important you get them as soon as possible. Signed..” The guard looked at Ruby, confusion etched into his face. “No one signed this scroll, your Majesty.”

“Really?” Briar asked, a nervous cough escaping his snout. Veneasha instantly stood up from her chair, narrowing her eyes onto the young ruler.

“You mean to tell us that you sent a dragon to fetch scrolls because of an anonymously written letter?” The princess asked, a snarl edging into her voice. She saw her mother look with interest as well.

“No,” The king, stammered. “I, um, trusted the dragon that had written it!” He claimed.

“Then who wrote it?” Vara asked, her tail sweeping at the ground absentmindedly. Ruby stood up as well, looking down at the young king.

“Unless the one who wrote was of my advisory team, scribe team, or royal guardsdragons, I do not care who wrote it.” The queen told him threateningly. “If you are falsifying records to justify theft, you’ll be in a lot more trouble than you already are, young dragon.”

Veneasha saw the dragon beside the king, now known as Threadspinner, look down at his talons. He still had his semi-burnt cloak on underneath the restraints. Looking closer, she saw a piece of parchment tucked into a pocket on the inside. The princess turned to fully look at the younger Thorn Runner.

“Threadspinner,” She asked. “What is that in your pocket?” The young dragon flinched at the sound of his name. He reached into the pocket reluctantly and pulled out the paper.

“It’s.. paper, your highness..” He said, not making eye contact with the princess. Veneasha looked over at her mother.

“Mother, I ask your permission to give something to Threadspinner,” She told her curtly. “I have a suspicion that I want to make sure is addressed.” When Ruby nodded, Veneasha gave her a small bow before trotting down to the cuffed Thorn Runner.

“Do you know how to write?” She asked him. When Threadspinner nodded, the princess looked over at one of the guards. “Get me a pencil, please.” The guard nodded and trotted off, coming back with a charcoal pencil. Veneasha handed the writing utensil to the green dragon.

“What do you want me to do with this?” He asked quietly.

“Write your name and a sentence or two on that paper,” Veneasha told him. “I want to compare something.” She watched as the dragon slowly wrote his name as nicely as he could. While he wrote, the princess walked over to the king.

“Your Majesty, may I see the letter?” She asked, holding out her talon.

“Why do you need to see it?” King Briar asked defensively, clutching the letter tighter.

“I want to compare the writing on that letter to Threadspinner’s writing,” Veneasha explained. “Just to see if he had written the letter himself.” Soft murmurs from other dragons softly hummed in the room as she stared at the king, her talon still outstretched.

“..I will let you compare it,” Briar hesitantly agreed. “So long as I hold it.”

“As you wish, your Majesty.” Veneasha sighed, setting her talon back onto the floor. She trotted back to Threadspinner who quickly finished and handed the paper to the princess. She turned to King Briar and gestured for him to come closer. He slowly walked over and held out the letter. Veneasha then placed Threadspinner’s paper next to it.

“It’s a match, your Majesty.” Veneasha said sharply, looking up at the king.

“Are you sure,” He asked anxiously. The princess looked at her mother and siblings, gesturing for them to walk over as well. Ruby, still standing, walked over quickly. Vara briskly walked after her, while Valor trudged over, dragging his tail.

“It is a match indeed, Briar.” Queen Ruby told him lowly.

“A forged letter to intrude on our castle,” Vara said in a quiet hiss. “That sounds like it can get you into trouble.” The king looked frantic as he pulled away his letter from the princess.

“I’m sorry, your Majesty,” Briar said to the queen. “It won’t happen again, I promise! Please don’t tell the others.”

“Don’t tell the others?!” Ruby bellowed, her fuse finally burning away. “King Briar, you can bet your tail I WILL tell the others during the next new moon! You deserve whatever punishment sent your way because of this! You are not a prince anymore, so act like it!

“Guards!” The queen ordered, snapping her muzzle to the dragons lining the walls. “Escort this sorry excuse for a ruler out of my castle! And as for his friend, throw him back into the prison!”

Veneasha watched as hefty dragons in armour walked up to the king and nudged him out to the door. She let the paper written by the prisoner to drift from her talons and onto the floor.

“That was boorriinngg,” Valor groaned, throwing his head back to look lazily at the ceiling. “Why did I have to be here for it?”

“So you could witness it, Valor.” Vara told him curtly, trotting back in the direction of her room. Her brother followed, presumably to lounge in his own room while Veneasha stayed with her mother.

“That was interesting to say the least,” Veneasha remarked, glancing at the tall and still quite angry dragon. “I hope he had learned his lesson.”

“Oh I’m sure of it.” Ruby hissed, turning and walking back to her throne. She hefted herself up and relaxed on the cushioned chair with a sigh, closing her eyes and rubbing them tirefully.

“Mother,” The princess started. “There something I wanted to tell you.” She trotted over to her own thrown, sitting up straight with nerves.

“What is it, Veneasha,” Her mother asked. “And how could it possibly be any worse than the situation as of now?”

“Well,” The princess said in a high pitch, glancing away from her mother. “Let me just get the scroll.” Without waiting for a response, Veneasha fluttered down and trotted back to her room. She reached under her bed and pulled out the wooden box, brushing some of the dust off of it.

She grabbed a scroll and opened it, reading a few key words to see if it was the scroll she was looking for. When it wasn't, Veneasha rolled it back up, shoved it back into the box, and opened up another. When she finally found the certain scroll, the princess trotted quickly back down the stairs to the throne room.

Veneasha stood in front of her mother and coughed slightly to get her attention. Ruby jostled up, opening her eyes to look down at her daughter.

"This scroll I had read last night has me very worried, mom." The princess admitted, unrolling it again. She gazed at the words and took a deep breath, starting to recite the ominous message.

"Harbinger of Shadows, our task is the hardest of all. You shall acquire an egg and start the ritual like the others. However, you shall pierce the shell with a crystal and let a shard enter the egg. This will initiate the transformation. Get this egg to the other blackened ones and flee with this scroll. The new Prince of Feathers will arise in seven days time. We're counting on you the most, Harbinger of Shadows."

Veneasha lowered the scroll to see the queen's rare worried gaze. She had sat up more alertly and was staring at the princess intently.

"Are you sure that's what that says?" Ruby asked flatly, though concern shown in her eyes. Veneasha nodded, wondering if the same concern was in her eyes as well.

"Where are you keeping the eggs," Veneasha asked, quickly setting aside the scroll. "Because if this scroll is right, we might have a bigger problem than just the Thorn Runners."

"This way, quickly now." Queen Ruby abruptly got up from her throne and trotted off, almost in a run. Veneasha followed at the same speed, rushing after her mother. They ran through wide corridors, leading to what the princess barely recognized as the royal hatchery.

That egg could cause major chaos, Veneasha thought to herself, running towards the old room she was hatched in. If it’s true that the egg would hatch into a prince. Her mother crashed into the door, alarming the guards stationed there.

“Where are the black eggs?” Ruby asked, alarm spiking her voice.

“In the corner, your Majesty.” A guardsdragon said hurriedly, pointing over to a mass of black lumps. Veneasha sprinted over and inspected the eggs, running her talons over the tops to try and find the hole.

“The scroll said one of the eggs was pierced with a crystal,” The princess said, still looking at them intently. “Get over here and help me find it!” Veneasha grabbed an egg and started to look over it, running the palms of her talons to try and locate a chip or hole in the shell. Four other guards ran over and started looking over them as well. She stared at every groove on the egg, making sure it was still intact.

“I found the hole, your highness!” A guard called out. Veneasha snapped her attention over to them, hurrying over after setting the egg she was looking at down. Ruby ran over as the guardsdragon pointed to a small hole in the egg’s shell. The princess looked up at her mother, worry etched into her face.

“What do we do with this egg,” Veneasha asked. “Do we shatter it or just keep it away from the others?” All eyes were on the queen as she thought, though it looked like her mind was blank from shock.

“..Keep the egg away from the others,” Ruby finally spoke. “So long as the dragon inside isn’t a monster, they will be sent back to their families once they hatch. And that goes for all black eggs.

“Also,” She added. “Don’t let any of the escaped dragons return to these eggs. They are now wanted criminals.” The guards nodded and returned silently to their positions, the one who had found the hole dragging the punctured egg to a different corner of the room. Veneasha looked up at her parent.

“What should I do now, mother?” Veneasha asked quietly.

“Do as you please for now,” The queen sighed, turning to return back to the throne room. “I will call for you if more scrolls are found.”

“Yes mother.” The princess nodded, following her out of the hatchery. Veneasha continued down the hall when the queen turned down a separate corridor. She could hear the patter of rain as she neared one of the balconies overlooking the base of the mountain.

With a tiresome sigh, Veneasha sat on a cushioned chair on the covered outlook. The distant cracks of lightning shone brightly in the northern mountains, lighting up the dark grey sky. She watched as dragons remained in their dens, preferring not to get drenched in the soaking weather. The only dragons out flying were guardsdragons in their silvery armour, heading to do their usual patrols.

A flash of light from the storm lit up one of the groups heading for the Thornvine Forest border, giving her a quick glance at their scales. Veneasha did a double take as she saw a yellow tail wisp behind one of the larger dragons.

Yellow scales? The princess asked herself, sitting up straighter to try and get a better look. But the only dragon with those colored scales is..

Valor?

#dragons of lockra #dragons of lockra: shards of dawn light #princess veneasha #princess vara #prince valor #queen ruby #king briar #thorn runners #dawn feathers #dawn feather tribe #thorn runner tribe #thorn runner

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