#Fantasy Guide to Royal guards
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inky-duchess · 2 years ago
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Fantasy Guide to Royal Guards
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Royals have multiple layers of servants but there is no set of servants most important that their protection. Royalty are never without some kind of protection and palaces are usually guarded to the teeth. So how do we write royal security. This is for @jamie-ties-writing
Recruitment
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Royal guards aren't just any person plucked from the street and put into a uniform. They are usually recruited from within the royal army, from within particular regiments across the army (a mixture of calvary, naval, artillery, infantry). The Royal Guard is usually made of of multiple regiments, not just a single one. These regiments would share and rotate duties. The British Royal family are currently guarded by the Coldstream Regiment, Welsh Guards, Grenadier Guards among others. Royal guards will be selected for their skill, sometimes their birth (they may be chosen if they rank higher socially) and of course, loyalty to the Crown. Royal guards were intended to be a show of force, strength, Majesty so they were usually impressive specimens meant to instill some power to their monarch.
Duties
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A royal guard's first order of business is the protection of the family. They may have sentry duty around the palace, guarding doors or patrolling palace grounds or corridors. A Royal Guard may be assigned to one member only but most likely they will rotate through the family as needed. Of course, a royal can request a guard to always be assigned to them if they want. They may escort their charge of the day to their engagements. If assigned a certain royal to protect, they would tail them throughout the day. A royal guard may even perform ceremonial duties such as the changing of the guard or riding in coronations or state funerals. A royal guard is expected to remain vigilant but never speak of what they see, they are meant to keep an ear out for threats but never repeat whatever is said, they are expected at all times to uphold a professional countenance and respect protocol. They will be expected to give their lives if needed, and be loyal to the last.
Rank
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Royal guards are a military division and rank is a part of their lives. Their supreme commander would he the monarch first but there would be an appointed commander. Depending on how you want to write Royal Guards, each regiment would have it's own captain and leaders. Of course, not all regiments may adhere to the same ranks but this would be a basic outline for you to follow.
Colonel: Colonels actually have no duties, they are more an honourary figurehead. Many members of the royal family would have a regiment to be colonel of. This usually requires nothing more than a ceremonial role, the wearing of the uniform while inspecting the troops for example.
Captain: The Commander of the regiment. They would undertake managerial duties, issuing commands from the monarch, assigning duties, approving the induction of new guards into the Household Division. The Captain would decide who would guard which member of the royal family.
Lieutenant: The Second in command. They will assume command if the Captain is not available. They would take on a large portion of duties and aid the Captain.
Sergeant: The sergeant would be next in command.
Guardsman: The lowest rank. They will have the least experience but usually the most duties. They would be the ones patrolling and standing sentry.
Uniform
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Of course, no royal guard is complete without their uniform. Royal guards would have to stand out, especially in ceremonial duties. This uniform would be distinctive, not only because it is a great honour for anybody to be named to the guard but also as mentioned above, to add a layer of might to those they protect.
Notable Royal Guard Units
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Dahomey Mino (the inspiration of Black Panther's Dora Milaje)
The Praetorian Guard
The Imperial Guard of Napoleon
The Imperial German Bodyguard
Varangian Guard
Swiss Guards
The Kheshig
The Janissary
The Imperial Guards of Tsarist Russia
The Cossack Guard
Guardia Real
Coldstream Guards
Irish Guards
Welsh Guards
Grenadier Guards
Medjay of Ancient Egypt
Al-Ḥars al-Malakī as-Suʿūdī
Compagnie des Carabiniers du Prince
Thahan Raksa Phra Ong
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paingoes · 1 year ago
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fantasy whump ideas ive been bouncing around in my head
+ whumpee who is being sold out as a mercenary for someone more powerful. compelled to go on dangerous missions on behalf of someone else, then pay the majority or ALL of their reward to their handler. does their adventuring party know they don’t want to be there?
+ royal whumpee being sent with an knight to guard them, unaware that their real knight was stopped on the way to meet them and an imposter has taken their place
+ hostage whumpee being carried away on horseback, forced to sit bound on whumper’s lap while they ride
+ dungeon with open roof. whumpee can see outside and is exposed to all the elements, but can’t leave
+ nature spirit being held hostage by an adventuring party, forced to guide them and manipulate the terrain as they wish. the other spirits see them as a traitor for guiding the party into forbidden territory
+ chaotic fairy whumpers. they’re not trying to hurt you, they’re just messing around. they think you’re cute with antlers growing out of you :)
+ starving whumpee being offered fairy food
+ classic: tied up and left as a sacrifice to a god or monster
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flowerandblood · 11 months ago
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The Price of Pride (7/?)
[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]
[ warnings: kissing, mutual masturbation, targcets stuff, infidelity, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence, some kind of sexual harassment (unwanted touch), death threats, bad things ]
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[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
Waiting for the arrival of his betrothed in the courtyard of the Red Keep, forced to do the deed by his mother, he thought, staring blankly ahead, that he longed to be anywhere else.
In his bed, in the Small Council chamber, on the back of Vhagar flying through the skies.
Even the vision of an evening spent with his cousin in the library teaching her the language of Old Valyria did not sound as awful as the prospect of what he would now have to do.
He was not good at pretending or lying – false flirting, sweet gestures and gifts to win the heart of a beloved woman were not his domain and aroused his pity. Conversing about nothing or romantic walks were also not what he wanted or needed.
He should be planning the war with Criston Cole, not courting a woman who was indifferent to him.
Worse, now that he had managed to forget what he had done to his nephew, he knew that along with Floris Baratheon's face all the memories, nightmares and unbearable pain in his eye socket would return.
He sighed, straightening up, standing with his hands folded behind his back as a couple of carriages drove through the gate, one with only the chests, the other surely with the person to whom they belonged.
Gods, how long was she going to stay here?
The door opened and he moved ahead reluctantly, needing to show at least a bit of courtesy, giving her his hand – Floris smiled at him gratefully and placed her soft palm on his, stepping out the carriage like the princess she surely longed to be.
"My Lady. Welcome to the Red Keep." He said, letting go of her hand, folding it behind him again.
A squeal and a cry of a little boy before Luke was swallowed by the Vhagar's maw.
He swallowed heavily, feeling a cold sweat on the back of his neck and an unpleasant stab of pain in his eye socket.
His betrothed bowed before him.
"My Prince. I am tired after my journey. Please, guide me to my chamber." She said, and he nodded, hoping that she was very tired and would not require any other effort from him.
He took a breath, surprised, feeling discomfort when they moved ahead and her fingers slid under his arm right away, snuggling into his side as if they were a pair of lovers.
He closed his eye and swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in his throat, rage, humiliation and shame, aware that the guards and servants might have been watching and mocking him, knowing how much he hated such familiarity.
For her, however, what was more important was not how he felt, but what she imagined in her head.
He was only to adapt to her fantasies.
As they walked into the chamber his mother had specially chosen for her, Floris smiled – her windows looked out onto the harbour itself, the beautiful sea and the sun.
He hummed, wondering if he would be able to escape.
"Get some rest, my Lady. I will see you at the supper." He said, wanting to take a step back and leave, but he heard her sigh quickly, seeing out of the corner of his eye her furrowed brow.
"I was hoping that we would get to know each other more closely. That you were also looking forward to this moment like I was. We could take a walk in the royal gardens and talk." She said with a hopefulness that made him feel a discomfort in his stomach.
He thought that he had not been waiting for this moment at all.
His brother had told him to get Borros Baratheon's daughter, and he did.
It was a decision dictated by politics, not the desire of his heart.
Deep down, he wished that as soon as the war was over their betrothal would be undone.
Storm's End would then no longer be of any use to them.
But he couldn't tell her that.
He finally looked at her, seeing her gaze full of desire but also excitement, as if she had already imagined what this marriage would give her – that he would surely slowly fall in love with her, that his behaviour was only due to embarrassment and his shy nature.
It didn't even occur to her that she could be indifferent to him, and that was exactly the case.
How was he supposed to make something out of nothing?
"What would you like to discuss with me?" He asked, wanting to shift the burden of this awkward exchange of words onto her.
His betrothed exhaled quietly, as if comforted that he hadn't left, though she smiled, something in her gaze that he didn't like.
"My heart broke when I learned of your lonely expedition. I understand, my Prince, that you did it for the good of the Kingdom, but you must know how awful and difficult the experience was for me, knowing that there was a young, unmarried woman at your side." She said in a way that indicated, in his opinion, that she was not sad because of it, but angry and irritated.
He hated it when someone did not say directly what was on their mind.
"At my brother's request, the Maester has dispelled your doubts, my Lady. My cousin remains untouched." He said coldly, however his grin was wide, menacing – he knew by the look on her face that she understood that she had frustrated him.
She, however, instead of accepting his explanation or negating it, decided to probe deeper into the subject.
"But did you touch her, my Prince? With your hands or your mouth?" She asked, looking at him proudly, as if she recognised that these questions were necessary for her to feel that her position remained unthreatened.
She felt his hands clench into fists behind his back.
"I touched her with my hands. It's hard not to when you're flying together on the back of a dragon."
"So I also want to fly with you on the back of a dragon." She communicated, like a child demanding the same toy from him.
He felt his teeth clench in his jaw, his heart pounding like mad in his chest with rage.
Who was she to demand anything from him?
Stupid cunt.
"I cannot agree to this, my Lady, for the sake of your safety. Your father has placed you under our protection." He said lightly, smiling so that for a moment he exposed his teeth, as if he wanted to bite through her artery.
"With you, I will certainly be safe." She didn't give up, clearly annoyed that he was denying her what he had given to another woman.
"I do not agree. Rest, my Lady. I will see you during supper." He replied and, without waiting for her farewell or a word, left the chamber with a slam of the door.
He felt like shouting, hitting someone, a guard or a servant, beating them until they lost consciousness.
And then he remembered.
Tyland Lannister's fucking servant.
It was time to make him pay for his lack of discretion.
"Robert is no longer serving in the fortress, Your Highness. He was moved to Casterly Rock by Lord Lannister." Said one of the boys when asked where he could find him.
His brother knew what he would want to do and removed the man from his sight so that he could not take revenge on him for his betrayal.
Fucking bastard.
He pounded his palms on the top of his table and cursed in rage, feeling like he was about to explode – he had the urge to ride to Vhagar, get on her back and burn everything he came across in his path.
He closed his hands into fists and leaned forward, panting heavily, feeling like a caged animal.
Why were there traps waiting for him on every side, set for him by his mother and his brother?
Why did he still experience from them the two feelings that caused him such pain: rejection and humiliation?
Sitting at the great table among the lords and their families, staring blankly ahead, pretending not to see the expectant glances of his betrothed in his direction, hoping for any kind of conversation, he thought for the first time in his life that he wished he simply didn't exist.
He wanted to disappear so that he didn't have to deal with all this.
What did he get in return?
A sad, disappointed look from his mother and a sneer from his older brother.
"What's that grave look, brother? Do you not rejoice at the sight of your chosen one, Lady Floris? She has come a long way to see your displeased face." Said Aegon and laughed, licking his lips, none, however, echoed him.
If it had been the first time, or the fiftieth time, but he could no longer count how many times he had humiliated him in this way in the presence of others, and he always, every time, felt the same squeeze in his throat, sadness and emptiness.
Why didn't he instead take him aside, ask him what was happening?
Doesn't he need help?
His brotherly understanding, advice, support?
Was he not worthy of this honour?
He sighed, deciding it didn't matter, when he heard the chamber door open and his King's attention turned to another guest.
"Ah, here is my dear, fearless cousin. Come here, my Lady, I have assigned you a seat next to my brother. Perhaps your presence will lift his spirits." His brother called out, and he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, not even bothering to look at the expression on his betrothed's face, hearing her twist next to him in her chair.
He wondered if it wouldn't be better if he just killed him.
He heard her footsteps behind his back, and a moment later he smelled her pleasant, floral scent – the servant had pushed back her chair for her. She sat down beside him, to his right, and for some reason he felt a little better.
She was by his side.
He didn't understand why, but he struggled to restrain himself from slipping his hand under the table and placing it on her thigh, wandering up and down, wordlessly letting her know that he missed her in some strange, twisted way.
She was always honest with him, his little dragon, her and her sweet, sharp tongue that cut like a dagger.
"My Lady." He heard Floris's voice to his left, leaning forward to see her better.
Gods, have mercy, he thought.
She was going to express her jealousy in front of everyone.
"I congratulate you on taming a dragon. No one expected you to succeed." She said with feigned admiration from which he rolled his eyes and shook his head, glancing at his cousin.
She, to his surprise was smiling broadly, her eyes shining dangerously, as if his betrothed amused her but also irritated her at the same time.
"I didn't believe it myself, my Lady. I was convinced that I would burn and become dust." She said with such light-heartedness that he and several people at the table chuckled at her words.
Why did he feel satisfaction?
"The gods have spared you. Will you stand to fight your father?" Floris continued, deliberately changing the subject to one that was uncomfortable for her, to force her to make a mistake and say something she shouldn't.
"Enough." He said impatiently, wanting to spare her this, however, his cousin decided to respond, finding her question surprisingly easy to answer.
"My dragon lacks experience and composure. I will be a mere support for the King and the Prince."
He smirked under his breath, thinking she had been clever in answering politely and cordially, while giving his betrothed no reason to mock or cause him or the King himself to distrust her.
To his relief, Aegon interrupted this exchange of words by ordering music to be played, and he decided to eat something, feeling that, indeed, his cousin's presence by his side had lifted his spirits and restored his appetite.
He pressed his lips together and sighed when Floris's hand brushed his wrist.
Did she have to touch him all the time?
Did she think it was romantic, that she was arousing his desire in this way?
The only feeling he felt was frustration.
"Will you pass me a tray of goose pate, my love?" She asked in a whisper, as if she was telling him some important secret, and he simply nodded, handing her the platter.
"Thank you." She said, but he answered her nothing, concentrating on his roast, hoping she wouldn't make him speak to her with his mouth full.
When he had quenched his thirst and satisfied his appetite, he thought it was time for him and his cousin to leave, however, they could not do so together – that would arouse the displeasure and curiosity of his betrothed, and he did not want that.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to get her attention, but she was focused on cutting the meat, immersed in her own world, not caring about what was going on around her.
The desire to sink his fingers into her thigh returned to him with redoubled force making his manhood pulsate softly in his breeches, but he limited himself to pressing his knee against hers, hoping she would understand what he meant.
He saw that she froze and breathed a sigh of relief when she finally stood up, communicating to all assembled that she would retire to bed, to which his brother-king, already completely drunk, agreed.
He waited a long time before getting up himself.
"My brother. Are you leaving us already?" Aegon asked.
"I am tired." He explained, looking at him coolly.
It was not a lie, he thought.
"I will escort you to your chamber, my Prince." Floris said, immediately rising from her seat, and he nodded, wanting nothing more than to escape from this room as quickly as possible.
This was what his evenings were to be like for days, weeks, months, years, once she became his wife.
He swallowed hard, stepping out into the corridor, feeling the contents of his stomach and the roast he had eaten rise to his throat as if he was about to vomit.
He closed his eyes and pulled away from her as she tried again to grab his arm.
"No." He growled more harshly than he would have liked, feeling his heart pounding like mad as he simply walked ahead.
Her silhouette walked beside him, her face raised at him filled with bitterness.
"Why? We are betrothed. I long to feel your closeness, at least for a moment."
He stopped, looking at her as if he was about to tear her apart, feeling himself breathing loudly through his mouth.
"But I don't want it." He said in a breaking voice, thinking that perhaps if he played the wounded boy it would give him at least a little peace and space.
"It's just a touch of the hand, my love. Nothing bad." She said, against his request touching his arm again, stroking it in a gesture of comfort.
He closed his eyes and grinned coldly, shaking his head, feeling tears of despair under his eyelids.
He thought he hated her.
"Sleep well, my Lady."
"This corridor. This is not the way to your chambers." She said in a trembling voice.
He looked at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart thump harder in his chest.
"I need to do one more thing."
"Do you..."
"That's enough. One more word from you and I'll lose patience. Don't provoke me." He said and turned away, walking towards the library.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he looked over his shoulder and saw that she was gone.
He ran his hand over his face, thinking that he couldn't stand it.
That he had to somehow get rid of her from the Red Keep and his life.
His brother was not worth such a sacrifice.
He felt at home in the library – the old oak bookcases filled to the brim with thick volumes reminded him of his childhood, the years he had spent in that great hall, hiding from the world.
He pulled out a few of the books he had used himself to study, knowing most of them almost by heart, and spread them out on one of the tables where one of the servants had lit some candles.
"You may leave." He said, and the boy nodded and left.
When the door finally opened and he saw her, he froze.
She was wearing his mother's robe thrown over her nightgown, that was certain, however, he did not understand why she had put it on now – that attire should only be worn in the privacy of her own chamber, outside of it being in a degree of negligee.
He swallowed quietly, watching as her girlish figure moved across the floor towards him with a quiet rustling of the shiny, delicate fabric tied at her waist.
He had a feeling that if he pulled at the ribbon, he would reveal her entire beautiful, bare body before his eyes, hidden only beneath the thin layer of her linen shirt.
He grunted as she sat down beside him, smelling her pleasant, fresh scent, sliding a few books towards her.
He knew what he wanted to practice with her and he was doing it deliberately.
He needed to take it out on someone and she had become his victim.
"We'll start with the basics. The most important and simplest terms." He said, pointing his finger at one of the words.
"Jelmor." He hummed. "North."
"Jelmor." She whispered, her voice soft and calm, clearly focused on her task.
She really wanted to learn, he thought with surprise and pride.
The heritage she so despised had become dear to her.
He felt a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen and satisfaction at the thought.
"Ñāqon. East."
"Nāqon." She said, however, with a mistake, not making the right sound at the beginning of the word.
"No. Roll your tongue at the n." He explained, and she swallowed hard, as if gathering the courage to say it again.
"Ñāqon." She said, slightly better this time.
"Better. Vēzor. South."
"Vēzor."
"Endia. West."
"Endia."
"Muña. Mother." He hummed, looking at her intently, and saw exactly what he wanted.
She froze completely, and her body tensed all over as if he had hit her.
"Muña." She said softly, warmly, her voice trembling slightly, betraying the pain she felt.
"Mmm. Kepa. Father." He said, and she looked at him in a way from which his manhood instantly swelled and pulsed hard, causing his lips to part in a sigh.
Her brown eyes were glazed from tears, her eyebrows arched in pain as if she was asking him why he was doing this to her.
"Repeat." He whispered.
"Kepa." She said, as if she was praying to one of the gods.
Kepa.
A single, lonely tear ran down her cheek, a sign that she still loved him, her father who had abandoned her, after all these years remaining a small child craving attention and praise, helpless and powerless, beautiful in her suffering.
Noble.
He lifted his hand to her cheek, for some reason wanting to relieve her, to let her know that he understood her, that he didn't think what she felt was a cause for shame.
She shuddered as his thumb brushed the wet mark from her plump cheek, the gaze of her doe eyes fixed on him, only on him.
"Trēsy. Son." He said softly, quietly, as if he was afraid to frighten her, his index finger running over her jaw, admiring the shape of her smooth face.
"Tresy."
"No." He said. "Trēsy. The letter 'ē' needs to be read deeper, as if you want to sing."
"Trēsy."
"Tala. Daugther."
He saw her shake her head, pressing her lips together as if to tell him that she was incapable of doing it, of uttering a word the meaning of which remained foreign to her.
She didn't know what it meant to be someone's daughter, just as he didn't know what it meant to be someone's betrothed, someone's son, someone's brother.
He pressed his forehead against hers, sinking his hand into the back of her neck, stroking soothingly her soft skin, feeling himself grow hard, his breath deep and uneven, filled with desire.
Her closeness was never forced, he thought with tenderness, to which his heart thumped harder in his chest.
Just like with her dragon, she allowed him to approach her when he wished, watching her from afar, circling around her until he himself, of his own accord, fell again and again into her arms.
"Tala."
"Hāedar." He hummed, feeling his erection throb hard in his breeches, his gaze fixed on her face. "Little sister."
She opened her eyes upon hearing those words, and he saw what he wanted in her hazy, hot gaze.
She was wet.
She merely sighed as his other hand did what he had longed to do since supper, touching her knee, travelling lazily upwards to her place of pleasure.
"Hāedar." She exhaled, her puffy, pink lips parted sweetly, her hard nipples peeking through her robe.
Gods, how he craved her.
I'm going to caress her, he thought, and then I'll take her here, on this table.
"Lēkia." He breathed out in a trembling voice, closing his hand over her womanhood, her eyebrows arching in disbelief as a quiet, innocent moan broke from her throat. "Older brother."
Say it, he thought, feeling his cock twitch in his breeches in impatience, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.
"Lēkia." She moaned as if calling out to him, begging him to end her suffering, and his hand immediately clenched in her hair allowing his mouth, swollen with desire, to close on hers in a greedy, hot kiss.
She gasped in his throat as their one lustful kiss turned into a second, a third and a fourth – a surprised murmur of delight broke from his lips as her soft hand touch his cheek, combing through his hair at last, her closeness so unforced, tender, warm, innocent, desired.
He thought he had never allowed himself to be kissed on the mouth by Madam, while his lips sank again and again into her helpless sobs of pleasure, breathing hard with the loud clicks of their saliva, his impatient, slick tongue forced its way deep into her hot throat as his hand lifted the material of her robe higher.
She mewled and shuddered all over, clasping her hands on his body as his fingertips finally dug into the leaking, silken structure of her folds – he groaned low, surprised to feel her cunt pulsing all over, hot and moist under his fingers, ready for his further caresses.
She wanted this.
She wanted him inside her.
He thought his cock was about to burst with desire, but he knew he couldn't take her yet, so in an act of desperation he grabbed one of her hands and pressed it against the throbbing, hard bulge in his breeches.
They both groaned, panting into each other's mouths, teasing each other with the tips of their wet tongues as, while his fingers circled around her little pearl, she trailed over his long, swollen manhood.
He pulled her to him, embracing her around the waist, feeling her sweet nipples pushing against the material of his tunic as her swollen lips and soft thighs parted invitingly before him with her cry of pleasure, the tips of his fingers pushing against her slit, ready to slide into her and feel how tight and warm she was.
A voice stuck in their throats and they both pulled away from each other as if burned, terrified when they heard someone open the door – in some subconscious, involuntary reflex he wiped his fingers, sticky with her wetness against his breeches, her hands quickly leaving the material of her robe down.
When he saw Floris's grave face he closed his eyes and sighed, feeling his heart pounding like mad in bitterness and disappointment, his cock pulsing and twitching in his trousers, not understanding why he had interrupted their caresses when what he had experienced was so pleasurable.
So right.
"The guards told me I would find you here, my Prince. I did not know you would have company." She said quietly, and he looked ahead with a blank stare, wondering how he could believe that she would just go to sleep, that she would not move after him, suspicious and full of concerns.
Rightful concerns, moreover.
"I am teaching my cousin the language of Old Valyria. It is the only way she can communicate with her dragon." He said, feeling only weariness and fatigue, not having the strength to look at her or speak to her.
He knew he had been cruel, but there was nothing he could do about it.
If she had been wiser, she would have seen that he did not care about her or her welfare and would have asked her father herself to break off their betrothal, not wanting to suffer such humiliation.
She, however, preferred to remain the prince's betrothed, even if unwanted one.
Floris walked over to the table and flipped through one of the pages, pretending to understand anything of what was written there.
"May I join you? I would also like to learn the language of your ancestors, my love." She said, and although he clearly asked her not to touch him, her hand laid on his shoulder.
He closed his eyes, feeling an unpleasant shudder.
Her hand on his shoulder or between his thighs, what difference did it make?
"I will not be able to concentrate with you standing by my side, my Lady." He whispered in a weak voice, for some reason feeling humiliated, having the urge to cry like a child.
Take your hand off me, he thought, but her hand slipped lower, to his forearm.
"Does my presence disturb you, my love?" She asked, but more than her question, his attention was drawn to the fact that his cousin wanted to get up from her seat.
"I'll leave you alone. With your permission." She said, and he pressed his lips together, feeling panic.
No, he thought.
Don't leave me alone with her.
"Daor, hāedar."
She looked at him in shock, her lips parted slightly in disbelief, her eyebrows arched in pain, in her eyes warmth, tenderness and something else from which he felt a pleasant tingling in his fingertips as he watched her sit back in her seat.
She stayed.
"What did you say, my love?" Floris asked, and he licked his lower lip, feeling impatience.
"I don't allow it. We are not finished yet. Soon her dragon will move to fight at my side and she must be ready. I ask that you never interrupt us again. If you wish, we will take a walk around the royal gardens tomorrow, just as you desire." He said, willing to give her what she wanted as long as she left him alone and took her hand off him.
"Is it because she is your cousin? Like any Targaryen you prefer your own kin?" His betrothed asked with anger, and something snapped inside him – his fists hit the table with all his might, both of them jumping as he stood up like an enraged lion, thinking he was going to kill this whore with his own hands.
Who the fuck was she to speak to him like that?
He could have had her tongue for that and sent it in a small casket to her father as a warning so that none of his daughters would appear in the Red Keep again.
"Lēkia." He heard her pleading voice, her soft hand gently touching his arm in an attempt to stop him.
He looked at her, at his hāedar, at her sweet face red with emotion, her gaze full of request, her puffy lips parted in an uneven, deep breath.
If he could, he would kiss her again, her moist lips, her long neck, her plump breasts, her hard nipples, her smooth stomach, to finally sink his face into her leaking, soft cunt.
For a moment he considered doing this, he decided, however, that doing so would humiliate her, and he did not want that.
Her hand let go of him when she saw that the first wave of his anger had passed, replaced by a second, much more threatening one.
He looked at his betrothed, at her face twisted in a grimace of anger and pain, at her eyes filled with tears.
She had come to marry the image of a man, not him.
"I will consider that you never said it, my Lady. Otherwise I would have to recognise that you intended to insult me and my family. And that would mean, in turn, that my betrothed is a fool. Is that how it is, my Lady?" He asked with a sneer in his voice, the corner of his mouth twitching when he saw the frown on her forehead at his words.
"No, my Prince. I am not." She said, looking at his cousin in a way he didn't like, before he could say anything, however, Floris turned and walked away, leaving them alone.
Silence fell – he glanced at his cousin out of the corner of his eye, partly hoping that they would finish what they had started, still half-hard, but he saw that her face was turned away in embarrassment, her figure bent.
Unlike him, she had a sense of shame, he thought regretfully.
"You may leave." He said.
She nodded and moved towards the door, as if she was afraid that if she looked at him she wouldn't hold back and they would both sin even more than they already had.
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard as the door closed behind her – he sat down in his chair, undid the belt from his tunic and untied his breeches, immediately putting his hand inside them.
He groaned throatily and leaned his forehead down, pressing it against the wooden table top, imagining that he was actually cuddling it to her sweet breasts, gripping his erection in his palm.
He imagined how he would do this to her – how gentle his thrusts into her delicate, warm body would be, rocking his hips lazily back and forth, rolling them each time his fingers squeezed the base of his swollen, pink cock, sighing in pleasure.
"– hāedar – oh, fuck –" He exhaled, speeding up, panting hard, imposing a more aggressive, faster pace on himself, squeezing his painfully hard erection with loud smacks of his palm against his stones, feeling that he would reach his peak embarrassingly quickly.
"– ah –" He moaned like a little boy, feeling tears under his eyelids at the thought of how great the relief that shook his body was, his mouth wide open as his pearly, sticky spend trickled down his fingers.
For a moment more he moved his hips in rhythm with his hand, imagining that he was deep inside her, in her warmth, snuggled between her soft breasts, calm and safe.
And then he opened his eyes and felt a squeeze in his throat, seeing the books and the candles all around him, feeling an embarrassing, painful emptiness.
His jaw trembled, his breath became heavy, but he did not allow himself to shed any tears, getting up from his seat, bringing himself to order.
He was just fastening the belt of his tunic when one of the guards suddenly rushed in, terrified.
"My Prince. Your prisoner has been attacked."
He stood over her bed feeling that he was quivering with rage, not hearing his mother's or his brother's discussion, looking at her gentle face immersed in sleep.
"Will she survive? We need her. How the fuck could this happen?" Aegon said, pacing around the room furiously, running his hand over his chin.
"In my opinion, she was hit in the back of the head with a long, heavy object, after which her head hit something hard again, probably the stone floor. This night will determine her death or life. If there has been bleeding inside her skull, nothing can be done." The Maester said, and he looked away, staring at Floris' face, who stood beside his mother, pale, afraid to lift her gaze to him.
For a moment he wondered, sure that it was her doing, whether to expose her in front of his brother, then, however, he decided that she might begin to say something about what she had seen, to spread rumours about his and his cousin's relationship.
He had to deal with her himself.
"We have fucking enemies everywhere. Maybe it was her father who sent someone to get rid of her?" His brother continued, thinking out loud.
Floris looked at him and nodded.
"It is very possible, Your Grace. Certainly Prince Daemon is furious that she managed to tame a dragon. Poor girl." She said, as if she was actually worried and sympathised with her, and he looked at her, grinning broadly.
I'm going to fucking kill you, he thought.
"Aemond. Do you find this amusing?" His mother said to him, snapping him out of his reverie.
"I find it very amusing, mother, because I think I know who did it." He said lightly, glancing at his brother, who spread his arms in a gesture of invitation.
"So tell us this secret." He said, and he looked at his betrothed with a smile.
"As soon as I am sure. Meanwhile, I will escort my betrothed to her chambers. She must surely be tired, and I do not wish to see her suffer a similar fate to my poor cousin." He sneered, cocking his head, stepping towards her.
"No need, my Prince, don't bother." She muttered, panicking, unable to look him in the eye as he towered over her.
"I insist."
Floris Baratheon's head slammed into the wall with all his strength as soon as the door to her chamber closed behind them – he grabbed her by the throat, holding the blade of his dagger against her chin.
"You will return to Storm's End and tell your illiterate father that our betrothal was broken because of you. Furthermore, you will tell him what you did to my cousin. You will say that the Crown could not, because of your unacceptable behaviour, bring about our marriage, but that the agreement between your father and the Realm is still in force. If your father objects, I will come to Storm's End on Vhagar once more, and I promise you that you will meet the fate of my nephew, you dumb, insolent cunt." He growled and let her go – Floris fell to her knees, drew in her air loudly and burst out sobbing, curling up in fear.
"– why are you hurting me? – I have nothing to do with it, I swear –" She mumbled, choking on her own tears.
"– and I swear you that if you insist on becoming my wife, I will hurt you every morning and every evening, for all the days of your life, and then I will fuck my cousin in the chamber next door so that you can listen to what pleasure means, which you will never know from me – you are to leave the Red Keep with the first light –" He said coldly and left, closing the door behind him with a loud slam.
When he returned back to her chamber, there were only the physicians and the Maester, who was supervising their work, laying cold cloths on her forehead.
"Did she get a fever?" He asked, sitting down beside her on the soft bed, touching her cheek.
It was hot.
"Yes." He said, bringing a new bowl of water and ice.
"Leave it. I'll do it myself." He said, rising from his seat, undoing the belt and buckles of his leather tunic, staying only in his white linen shirt tucked into his breeches.
"I will come to examine her again in an hour, my Prince." Said the Maester and bowed to him, leaving him alone with her.
He sat back on the bed beside her, pulling the cloth from her face, sinking it anew into the cold water only to place it on her warm forehead again.
"– umbagon lēda nyke, zaldrītsos (stay with me, little dragon) –" He hummed tenderly, his hand moving from her forehead higher, combing her soft hair with his fingers.
"– kepa –"
He froze, looking at her in pain, her brow arched in misery.
She thought he was Daemon.
He swallowed hard, leaning toward her, stroking her head with his hand as if she were a small child.
"– shhh –" He hushed her, his full lips pressing a soft, warm kiss on her hot forehead. "– you're safe now –"
She opened her eyes – he saw her tears, glistening in the candlelight, running down the sides of her face, as if his words had both hurt and soothed her.
He sighed as her small hand lifted to cup his scarred cheek, the tips of her fingers brushed against his skin.
"– lēkia –" She mumbled, something about the way she said it, the relief he saw in her eyes, made their lips press together in a sticky, tender kiss.
"– mmm –" She sighed as he repeated the caress with a quiet click of their saliva, running his thumb over her jaw and chin, sinking into the moist sweetness of her plump lips again and again, uniting with her in that innocent, intimate way.
They both breathed heavily as he pulled away from her, looking at each other for a moment, his erection pulsing hard in his breeches, letting him know he had to stop.
He couldn't take her now.
He hummed, seeing that she closed her eyes again, stroking her hot, rosy cheek with his thumb, her face nuzzled into his hand.
"– sleep, little sister – your brother will stay by your side –"
461 notes · View notes
hongjoongscafe · 8 months ago
Text
Bloody Love.
Chapter: X-Rose-
♠︎Pairing: yandere!king!jungkookxoc(coronis)
♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).
♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."
♠︎Word count: 6k+ 👀
♠︎Warning: ghosts, manipulation (it is kind of a positive one here so🐒)
♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!
♠︎Masterpost
♠︎Serieslist.
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Ring… the ring of promise was a tricky piece of ornament. For one it was love, peace, destiny. For others, it was a burden, slavery, anguish.
The faithful oaths, the ones that made life full of colour, hope, and laughter, made the weight of the ring feathery light. Those rings were the honour of love, the reminder of a family at the house that made it home, a lover who kissed his beloved or his wife with love.
The deceiving oaths, the ones that break your soul and crush it under the weight of the ring. The reminder of the unspeakable. It feels like you have been sold to serve the aristocrats who abuse you for their luxury.
Coronis’s finger tingled, her cheeks, her neck… they all tingled as the heat of His fingers lingered on her. The bloody necklace because of which she was brought here was around her neck again, burning her skin.
Thinking back at the time, she wondered if she had never removed the damn thing, would she have been saved?
She would have been back at the village, with her little family. Just existing. Poor Circe, she had always been Coronis’s closest. Her little eyes were most likely waiting for her older sister to come back and pick her up and tell her how everything was fine. She wanted that to be true. She wanted to hear that that was what was going to happen.
The palace was enormous, but her little shack was what gave her peace. This was a prison but that was home.
Oh, Nori, she thought. She never got to talk to her and tell her how wrong she was. Out of every person, Nori was the only one who made her screaming mind shut. Her soft touches against Coronis's skin, her tiny pecks… everything about her was perfect.
The desperate look when Coronis talked to her was heartbreaking—the way she forgave her in a breath.
Just one more night, that's all Her Highness wanted with Nori, where they could desperately engulf each other in their arms and touch, and make love all night. Just somewhere she could be herself and leave the pain behind. Somewhere she could dump all her obligations and responsibilities away.
She wanted to feel like a woman she never was. But with Nori, she was that. More than ever, she realized how much that one girl affected her life and gave her so much without even realising it.
Love, she gave her love.
Then her heart dropped into her stomach as the face of Nori flashed in front of her eyes from the time when He took Coronis by her hair. Nori was confused but more so betrayed.
The hurt in her eyes was fierce.
Coronis rubbed her eyes vigorously to remove the vision from her brain. Everything was already enough. Now thinking about how she hurt an innocent wasn't going to change anything. She had no way to go back and tell her. So she could only proceed in her life and pray for Nori to find someone who could love and cherish her like no tomorrow.
She was interrupted as the heavy door to her chamber opened. Turning around, she saw the guard- Jimin standing there. She sat up straight on her bed.
“Your Highness,” He bowed. “The Lord has commanded me to make you acquainted with the palace,” he informed. “And I am obligated to look after you till the sixth night.”
“Oh…” she said, knowing nothing about how to act in the royal palace. Ana did say that she would guide her around and teach her the etiquette necessary for a Queen-to-be before she left.
“I’ll guide you to the gardens,” he said as he stepped aside, gesturing her to follow him out.
“Right away?” she asked, eyes wide in surprise at the sudden need to get acquainted with the palace.
Jimin looked at her, “Pardon me, Your Highness, if I could, I would rather you rest however it is the perplexity of the concern. The Lord has demanded that you should be well-versed with the gardens as Your Highness might need it this instant.”
Hesitantly, she stood up and followed him. Anything against the orders of His Majesty was only going to put her in danger along with the helper who was ordered so. “It is fine. I do wish to get away for a while…” she said leaving the fact that she was feeling asphyxiated by the stiffness in her chamber. If she did stay there for more, she might indeed end up losing her consciousness.
The long hallways opened up to the thorny gardens, distinct from the one at the entrance of the palace. She noticed that it was at the back of the main palace and other structures were standing tall, not connected by any means. It was all beautiful to look at. The top of older towers next to each structure was covered by the thick mist, only the dark shadow could be seen through the blur.
The palace was what she thought the death house would look like. All grim and ruined. How many screams and blood trails did this hell-bound face throughout agonising time? She thought.
In front of her, there was an endless sea of dead ground, covered in dying shrubs. The chilling winds threaded through her long luscious hair. She could faintly hear the whispers again although it was harder to make what they were trying to tell her.
“Your Highness,” Jimin called. “This way,” he gestured towards the right corridor from the door. She followed the guard and passed many more who bowed their heads for her. Every single soul in the palace was now aware of their, His and Her Highness’, engagement.
Would they have respected her if she was here as a commoner and not their Highness’ love interest? Presumably not. Why would these rotting men care for that? The men in the shackle would have used her and discarded her long ago.
She looked at Jimin’s back. Only he was different, carrying fear in his tiny eyes and secrets in his shivering chest. She wondered if he would reveal them to her. Thinking about her thoughts, she scoffed. Everyone here was His loyal. No one. No one would betray him under His nose.
Jimin opened another door that led to the garden which was closed from all four sides. There were doors but not a single body guarding them, maybe it was guarded by the souls...
The garden was still large. The faded trails between the beds of dead black and red roses led to a bench and a tiny crumbling table between the flowers by the old fountain that had no water in it.
The flowers needed love. They were dried, empty and deprived of love. Coronis’s aching instinct wanted to replenish the garden. It seemed like once, this place had that love and care it needed to thrive.
“His Highness has gifted you this precious garden in hopes that you will bring back life to these dead hopes,” Coronis looked at the guards’ distant eyes.
She inhaled the stale scent of the roses as she took in the beauty of the ruin. “Bring back to life?” she slowly asked. “Did this place have any life before?”
He did not say anything. she, again, looked at him. The pain was shining in the guard’s eyes and delicate face. Maybe the once-forgotten memory pained him. He lowered his head, “Forgive me, Your Highness.” before Coronis could ask why, Jimin straightened up and turned around, “Please make yourself cosy, Your Highness. This garden is all yours now.” he then bowed and left her alone, closing the door behind him.
Nothing in this palace was remotely relaxing. Every edge of this folly buzzed with the fear of the unknown. Had she known that day that just getting her calf back for the meadows would cost her whole life, she would never have gone out or at least worn her cloak to hide her troubled head.
But now she was here, in the palace of the devil, waiting to get tied with the devil himself.
Sighing, she carefully stepped down the steps and slowly walked towards the table. Her benign fingertips brushed the delicate, withered petals of the roses. The thorns scratched her tips as she walked through them. The red against her porcelain skin was a contrast.
Upon reaching the table, she saw a pair of scissors, a big pretty black, dusty vase with some dead roses in it and some still on the table. ‘Why would anyone leave them half done?’ she thought as she picked the dusty roses off the table. They have been there a long time. Why haven’t the rain washed them away? Another question invaded her mind. The palace was as if it had a mind of its own. It seemed that it worked on its own laws, separated from the rest of the realm.
This garden was stuck in time.
This palace was guarded by the spirits, she could believe that now, especially after the encounter with spirits in the hallway a few moments ago when she was being taken for the gathering for the announcement of the marriage in the Lord's court.
The marriage…
Coronis felt weak in her knees and dropped on the chair that was already out of its resting place. The marriage was in just six nights. She was fated to be His Queen. She felt like the end of her life was laughing at her.
His Highness was a man of a wicked character. She found Him disconnected. He was a man of impulse and did what his stone heart demanded even though it was wrong-headed.
He was packed with secrets. There was much more to him than just his surface. His cruelty had an origin.
When Coronis was little, she was aware that the King, His Highness’ father, was a man perceived by the black spirits. His soul was black and when he died, the black soul flew in the sky like a rag and busted away. Finishing him and passing the curse.
Nobody knew how he passed away. The secret was buried in the palace she was sitting in. The legends said that the King’s own flesh would finish his throne. But the throne was still intact. Could it mean that His Highness ended His father's life?
Though it was an enticing question, the present was more dreadful. The King was dead. Coronis wasn’t. She needed to find a way to survive this tarnishing life before it gave up upon her. Glancing around the garden, she thought maybe she could indeed bring back life to this beauty.
She sighed and stood up, her knees were shaky but she roamed around, taking in every small detail of the surroundings.
As she was walking around the fountain she saw a red peaking out. When she got closer she saw a book lying there, covered in a dense layer of dirt. However, it seemed like it had been touched as there were faint streaks of fingers running down the book. But who would have touched the book? It is quite prevalent that this place has been opened now after who knows when. Maids were not allowed considering the dusty, dirty being of the garden. It wasn’t maintained. And thinking about a moment back when she entered the place, the only foot marks were by the door. Not this far.
Slowly she bent down and picked up the book. With the inside of her gown, wiped the dirt away as best as could from the velvety lining. She opened the book; on the first page, in beautiful handwriting was written “Dear Moon”. The ink was black but there were splotches of red painting it. As if it were dried blood spots. Coronis’s shaky fingers turned the page but before she could see what was written in the book, her fingers felt a piercing pain of burn making her drop the book on the ground.
Before she could react any further, on the dirty ground next to the book, in an elegant writing, it scribbled “Not Yet, Dear…”
Coronis’s scream stuck in her throat, she abruptly backed away and ran out of the garden, the thorns of the roses scratched much harshly, her skirt stuck between them, tearing it ever so lightly.
Panting, she managed to knock on the door, “Open the door, please!” she banged. “Please open the door! I wish to go back to the chambers!”
In an instant, Jimin opened the door for her. “Your Highness,” he bowed and led her to her chamber in the deafening silence. He wanted to ask what happened but he knew what conceivably must have happened. He could hear Her Highness sniffling behind him as she followed him like a wet puppy.
“Soon it will be dinner assemblage… His Highness expects you to attend it. He is organising a feast in respect of the marriage and he wishes Queen-to-be’s presence, diligently.” Jimin reports her.
The ballroom was filled with the scent of the delicious feast, packed with people. They all carried themselves like they owned the world which they did. They are the bloodhounds that rule over the realm. They may not be as powerful as His Highness himself but they were no less guilty in making this murderous realm.
Their hands were caked with the blood of millions and millions from the past. Their eyes were dead, no emotions reflected in them… just dead of the night sky. They were just puppets, in the end. But they were on the other side of the puppet world. These men taught their people how to be like them; the dangerous killers of humanity and dignity.
Coronis felt suffocated among them. She didnt belong there. She was an outdated lowlife in their eyes but they couldn't voice it out to His Highness. They preferred to be on the good side of the Master. They witnessed Amos’s dismissal. His screams, they could still hear them.
Amos was marched around in the palace for all the guards and ministers and maids to see what would happen if they even peaked at Her Highness. She was unattainable. They all were lowlifes in front of Coronis. This is what His Highness wanted to pass to everyone in this feast.
However, Coronis couldn’t find Him. Everybody bowed to her, the maids paid their courtesy to the Queen-to-be.
Some maids tried to win her over by offering some tidbits and drinks to her. But Coronis didn’t pay them any mind. She was escorted down here by Ana. Jimin was not there either. Even though Ana was there with her, she did not feel protected. She wished Jimin had been there by her side with his soft yet protective aura.
It was all a display of regard. The moment they turned around, they whispered among themselves, mocking her. She could hear but what stand did she have? She was just a girl. A captive of their Highness that He will use and throw away like a broken toy down the bridge where they threw the rest who were dead or half dead.
She felt like a prey in the grounds of predators. It was the reality but now it was dawning on her. There were most likely a handful of people who wanted revenge or wanted to kill the Master but they might take it through her. Who knows what goes on behind the closed doors of these sinister ministers?
She didn't need to think more. The ballroom on the opposite side opened and there stepped in the Great Lord himself. He was a handsome man. Coronis knew it but more so now when He came in dressed in His official attire. He wore His heavily jewelled crown with pride, His ears were decorated with long earrings, and His fingers were looped with rings but the ring on His ring finger of His left hand outshined the rest. He was dressed in a white blouse with huge necklaces lacing down the front; black silk-patterned pants hugged His thighs and ended under His leather boots. His cloak was of maroon velvet with black fur around it. It was long enough to trail behind Him.
His face… Coronis had to suck in a deep breath. He was breathtakingly handsome. His eyes were shadowed by the black kohl. His pretty lips were tinted with natural red. His jaw was sharp, and cheeks defined. His long, thick neck disappeared under the neck of his blouse.
His luscious hair was left open down to his narrow hips. The curtains of His shorter hair framed around his face. They looked soft and shiny. She wouldn’t have minded running her fingers through his mane if he were…
Her thoughts halted when the eyes of His Highness found her. Then she realised that they had all bowed down to give Him the courtesy. Quickly, she, too, bowed her head and waited.
The heavy boots thudded across the ground and stopped right by her toes. His Highness drank the beauty of His beloved. She was a good girl for bowing. He saw how her eyes ranked up and down His body. He could feel the heat of her eyes on His body, making His cock twitch in His pants. But he needed to wait for her to be ready before He could do anything. In the end, the fruit of patience is always sweet.
Coronis was wearing the gown that He had given Ana for Her Highness. A tiny smirk grew on his face. She looked immaculate in it. It fit her like a glove. The blouse of the gown hugged her perky breasts and pumped them up. The shoulders of her gown draped down her arms, beautifully. The skirt was long and a train followed her. It was black lace over the dark maroon velvet, it was flowy and not stiff. The bony necklace rested prettily just below the hollow of her neck.
Her hair was tied in a messy bun on top of her head, with pretty twists in the front. A piece of jewellery decorated them. He pinched her chin gently and raised her face, her eyes glancing into his cold ones.
“Oh, my dear Little Birdy…” His Highness purred with tenderness. Her smoky eyes, similar to His were beautiful with a pair of shaky black pupils. Her cheeks were tinted with blush and her lips dark maroon. They looked pretty against her porcelain skin. Her soft hair brushed against her cheeks. “Exquisite, you, my love, are exquisite…” His eyes were dazed as He gapped, hypnotised by her.
His large, warm hands cupped her face. His thumb rubbed tiny circles on her cheeks. She was home to him. His heart cracked as He felt warm. He wanted her to see what leverage she held over Him. She had become His strongest strength and the weakest weakness within a few weeks.
“My pretty, pretty Birdy…” He whispered. “The mere idea of you fills me with the desperate need to touch you, ravage you, eat you out in front of everyone just to claim you as mine and then fucking kill them all for seeing you,” He hummed, His hands lowering on her neck.
She was frozen under his warm touch. Unwantingly, her heart started to beat faster and her body flushed with heat. There was a throbbing in her ears and between her thighs. She hated that He was unresistible. But she kept herself at bay.
“Tell me, Little Birdy,” He purred. “Do you like the gown I got for your pretty body?”
She bit her lip, to keep her scared whimper in and nodded her head, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. Her pulse was throbbing against His palm.
“Words,” He bellowed.
“Yes, Your Highness,” she whimpered. “I- I like the gown that you got for me,” she barely said.
He hummed with joy. “As you should! Have you even seen yourself tonight?”
“No, Your Highness,” she shook her head. Looking at herself was the last thing she had in her mind when she was going to get married to her doom in just six nights.
His big hands enveloped her small one in His and took her to the wall that was decorated with gold, and glass. She followed Him with her head lowered. Upon reaching, He made her stand in front of Him and raised her head with his two fingers under her chin.
She slowly opened her eyes and glanced at the glass between the clean gold plates. A gasp left her mouth upon seeing herself in the glass piece. It was as if she was looking into the eyes of some elite lady who was seasoned to be a Queen by birth.
Coronis couldn’t believe what she was looking at. The reflection in the glass was- was resplendent; so sublime.
She never thought she could be so charming ever. Her natural beauty was breathtaking already and with the right care and proper feed, she was splendid. She hasn’t seen herself in a reflection in a long time. Even the fountain in the gardens was dried up, with not a drop of water.
Her mouth remained ajar. She felt a spark of confidence coursing through her veins. Her body shook not with fear but with the suffocation of the feeling that she had never seen herself like this before. All this time everyone told her that she was fabulous. Nori once told her that once she (Coronis) would see for what she truly was, then she would realise what power she held over the minds.
Coronis’s beauty was hypnotic. It was a means of manipulation and she never realized it.
“Look at yourself and tell me you see the most enchanting woman in this world,” He lowered his face to her ear and whispered. “Tell me you see what I am seeing.” He nuzzled his nose in her silky hair, sniffing her sweet scent. “Tell me what you see, my Little Birdy…”
Her mind was running fast, not registering what was happening. But she nodded, “I see… myself,” she muttered to Him. “I see myself. I look— I look good…”
His Highness chuckled, His warm breath hitting her ear. “Just good, My love? I say you are not even real,” He straightened up and held her by her shoulders. “I see everything. I know everything. Nothing goes past me,” He began. “Your pretty face screams your inferiority but you do not realise that you are superior to all these jesters here. You do not realize your worth. It is not only the beauty of yours but your little nature of being,” He rested his chin on top of her head and whispered, “You are more than what you see yourself for, Coro…”
The way He called her name sent a shiver down her spine. But it also scared her how much He was correct. All this time she considered herself as a lowlife but they were truly beneath her feet. She was better than any of them combined.
“Do you know what power you possess?” she shook her head no as He chuckled, “You will soon find out. You are more than what you let yourself take praise for. You, my Little Birdy, are more than what you realize…” He moved back a bit, giving her a space. “Now I enjoin you to turn around and walk right before me with your pretty head held high up. Be the Queen you deserve to be. Show them your authority. Do not bow down in front of any of them. They are beneath you… if not because of me then let it be because of your kindness and love. You have something they don’t– love and kindness… and the power!”
Coronis looked at the glass. There was a new fire burning in her eyes against all present there. At that moment, what His Highness was expressing was getting into her head, rightfully so. She looked at both of them standing. She noticed how they were dressed similarly. Smoky eyes, black and maroon attire, the burning eyes with superiority. The only thing she was missing was her crown.
She felt as if she was above them all but He was still above her. She could see it in the way His menacing eyes were gleaming in the burnt yellow glow of the mashals and candles. But He wanted her to hold more than them but a bit less than what He had.
“Didn't you hear, Little Birdy? Turn around and show these lowlives what you are,” He pressed.
Taking in a deep breath, Coronis straightened up. She raised her chin and broadened her body. “Now you will command them and start the feist. Make them pay respect to you the way they pay me. You have gained more control than them.”
With a nod, she turned around towards the crowd where they were still in a bow. Not a single tsk was heard. If a pin dropped, it could be heard. The orchestra was paused too as they bowed. Everything was paused, waiting for a command so that they could finally become the beasts and get drunk and tear through the roasted pigs.
His Highness looked from where they were standing. Jimin who was asked to accompany His Highness bowed down as the Queen-to-be passed him, with her giving him a tiny nod. She walked with her newfound spirit, her head held higher than the sky. Her hips moved swiftly with each step. Her demeanour made His Highness want to devour her right away. She was the only woman who made Him wait and crazy. He was not mad. He loved what she brought with her.
From the nearby tray, she picked up the goblet filled with red wine and climbed the stairs of the podium.
She glanced at Him once more before she began in a loud, confident voice, “I will become your Queen in less than six nights. You shall respect me like so,” she spat. “One more word uttered in disrespect of me will be your nightmare. This feist is for me and I will fucking rule over you. You will bow down to me, and beg for my mercy every day. My command shall be your duty from now on. If I say the day is night, then the day is night! Am I clear?!” she was a whole new being on the podium.
The people looked up with wide eyes at her. They frantically looked between her and His Highness. But He just smirked and stood pridefully.
That night, she didn’t only become their Queen but His pride as well.
“I said, AM I CLEAR?” she roared.
The people snapped out of their shock and complied.
“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!”
The night was long. But still not enough to stop the storm inside His Highness.
He was still wide awake. It was closer to the morning, and raining and yet He was still cooped in His bochord. His cloak was gone, the crown was resting in its place, and the blouse was undone but draped over His broad shoulders. The adrenaline of the feist died down as soon as His Little Birdy was escorted back to her chambers.
After a few glasses of the wine she let herself feel breezy. Her cheeks were twice as red. She was magnetic. He made sure that she was by His side. Not behind but right next to Him. He wanted them to see how He saw her. She was braver than most of his ministers and officials. The way she demanded respect made His heart swell.
His Highness never wanted to marry anyone. He never wanted any woman to be important to him after Her but Coronis was… she was…
There was no word yet discovered for what she was.
His Highness was reading a book that She used to read. There were many lines that She had drawn under the words which She thought were moving. It was an epic. Like any other epic, they were fighting over a girl. They were killing and killing, only for one girl.
But there was more to it. In the book, the hero was a typical heroic man. He saved the girl and gave her a beautiful life away from the eyes of the hateful world. However, the villain was left alone, deprived of any love and care.
Not long after, the girl left the hero and ran away with someone else. It wasn’t the hero or the villain. The girl just couldn’t live with a man who was more worried about who was looking at her than the relationship they had built. She had left everything behind for the hero but the hero was fixated on the fact that someone else might take her.
The girl didn’t like it, she felt as if she was just living there with a strange man and then she left with a man who loved her and wasn’t fixated on the idea of having her but was truly in love with her and not like a price but luck.
His Highness always found this book to be fascinating. He never truly understood it but knew why She read it all the time. She was, just like the girl in the book, suffocated in the ordeal.
The train of His thoughts halted as a faint piano started to hum through the door of the bochord. He frowned and got up from His seat. Opening the door, He followed the sound of the music. He walked down the corridor towards the open space on His floor where the piano was.
As He rounded the pillar, He saw Coronis’s dark hair glowing under the candles. She was hunched over the piano while sitting on the stool and playing a sullen tune. Something in His heart stirred. The piano and the rain made His throat fill up to the brim. Her fingers danced across the keys as the sadness poured out of the big instrument.
Closing His eyes, He leaned His back against the pillar and let Himself get drowned in the tunes of His beloved.
With each passing moment, the grief through the tunes grew stronger and stronger. They forced the rain outside to match the thunder of her feelings. The ruthless winds grew stronger as if they were in grief with the Queen. The windows shuddered and banged under their pressure and the lightning bolted. But nothing stopped Coronis. She let herself go through the music.
His Highness opened His eyes to look at her. She was still unaware of his presence. He now noticed a crow sitting on the piano, looking intensely towards Him. it was as if that thing was trying to protect Coronis.
His Highness just kept peering at them in silence.
Her tunes slowed down as her shoulders shivered. The cold wind from the storm made her locks wave around her, gracefully. He could now see the wetness down her soft cheeks.
Finally moving from where He was standing, He gently touched her shoulders and rubbed her arms to give her some warmth from His palms. Coronis froze under His touch.
“Don’t stop, my Little Birdy,” He whispered. “Keep dancing your fingers across the keys, my Love.”
She obediently followed His words and resumed her tunes. The warmth of His palms warmed her. His presence was heavy behind her. His figure was towering over her, looking intently at the way she was playing the piano.
“I feel like you will be the reason for my death,” He muttered in her ear. “I am incapable of feeling but you, my Little Birdy, make me feel more than I can ever imagine.”
Coronis didn’t say anything but kept playing the keys. Her heart was heavy and needed to let it out. The confidence wore her down like a curse. She realized she could win over anybody but not Him. He was still her captor. She was still away from her family and Nori.
While she was here being gifted lavish gowns and being fed delicious foods, they were back at the shack. They were still fighting day and night for everything. Circe must have been a mess.
Coronis wanted to shut her mind now. It was too much guilt to carry for her. She let herself focus on the notes and played the piano.
“I am aware of the fact that you are not fond of me,” His Highness said. “But I will make you love me soon,” he kissed the top of her head. Her tears slipped down her cheeks far more furiously as a painful sob pulled out of her chest.
Coro was by the window of her shack by the moment Coronis returned from the feast. Coronis quickly opened the window after Ana left her alone after helping her change into her white nightgown.
The crow flew in and landed in her extended arm. “Coro, what are you doing here,” she whispered, feeling too many things at once as she saw him after so long. Only Coro could visit her like this. “Oh, what is this?” she questioned as she saw something stuck on his feathery back.
Letting the crow rest on the table, she removed the bag from his back and opened it. She gasped as she saw a tiny book inside it. She pulled it out and with it, a tiny ink pot with a feather was there.
Turning the the book open she saw the first page written in her father’s handwriting. Her eyes filled with tears as she traced the letters with her shaky fingers and started to read–
‘My beautiful girl, Coronis. It is your father. Upon returning, I couldn’t take the fact that you were gone. Everyone is devastated. The home doesn’t feel like home anymore. I do not think getting you married would have worked for any of us either. We can’t live without you. No one has smiled since you have left. No one wants to talk either.
I get it now why your mother was always so attached to you. You are different, Coro. No wonder why His Highness took you for himself. We were made aware today by the guard that you were getting married to His Highness in six nights.
We don’t know how we feel but you will become the Queen. We can only hope that you are being treated like one. My princess deserved good things but fell into this. I am sending you this notebook so you can write down what you can’t say out loud to anyone. Hide it smartly, yeah?
It will be alright, okay? Do not fear anyone. You are stronger than them. And do not worry about any of us. We are fine and getting by. Onyx was missing you so was Martha. Circe has been a good girl. She hasn’t created any trouble since you left. She said she made a promise to you to be a good girl for you. She is being a good girl, she wanted me to let you know.
If you can, write back to us… tell us how you are, okay?
Much love, princess.’
That event left her vulnerable and sensitive. She turned to the piano that was here. If only she could go and meet her parents once.
“Little Birdy?” she was snapped back by the raspy voice of the King. “have you heard about the legends regarding the one and only in this world?”
“No…” she whispered.
“You should,” He hummed against her cheek. His warm lips brushed against her cheek ever so lightly yet making her flinch away.
intrigued by the great legends of this realm, she asked, “W-what does it say?” she whimpered when He tightened the hold on her arms and let go.
Without waiting He turned around and unhurriedly stepped away. She kept glancing at Him. He was intimidating as He was walking away. His long hair brushed against His hips and flew with the wind around Him. before disappearing in the corridor, He halted and turned His face slightly so could only see His law and cheek. He inhaled and finally spoke–
“The lone will birth, carry the black of the vault. The ember will come back to life. The omen will attune. The lone would behold and no one shall rebel…”
…..
Sanaa's note:
The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.
Taglist:
@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae @demonshauntingthedoves
@darkuni63 @mageprincess7 @whipwhoops @ackercute @ane102 @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @unhingedgf @jungkooks21 @namjoonscrabjuice @yluv-damara-13 @jksgirlhere @lavenderymoons @passionandsuga @posionapple24 @blueberry711 @shawtylilsalty @gukiebaby @vantelover07 @douknowbts @andioppsworld @xicanacorpse @ttanniett @koohrs @crazy-eight17 @jesshujk @sadxaries @fantasticwarl @catlove83 @iveivory @lippynabiii @igotnojamsz @deadgolgibody @jjk174 @captainengineer-trixie @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @kosmosjkookie @junecat18 @missmunchkin @kookies-n-spice
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iamespecter · 5 months ago
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If I made every single idea I had for a tadc au real I think everyone would hate me because so far I got:
- Another sci-fi au where the circus crew are neo-techwear cyberpunk hunters hunting down abstractions (also the rough concept for what is now known as the Lifeline AU)
- A steampunk-ish Wild west au where Pomni is an outlaw and Caine is the local sheriff. They go from enemies to lovers and their ship name is "Showdown" lmao
- A steampunk vampire hunter AU inspired by the Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Slayer movie where Caine trains the crew to become expert vampire slayers
- A lowkey crack, not-even-treated-seriously Aladdin AU where Gangle is Princess Jasmine, Zooble is Aladdin, Jax is Jafar, Kinger is the Sultan, Ragatha is the head of the royal guard, Pomni is Gangle's handmaiden and Caine is the Genie (Gangle, Jax and Zooble end up in a poly relationship. Because I ship these three.)
- A Detective story where Caine is a Noir Private Investigator hired to solve Kaufmo's murder and everyone is a suspect; but he spends too much time monologuing and everyone keeps telling him to shut up about his "internal thoughts"
- A human AU separate from Reunion where they're online streamers. Some of them are gamers, some are influencers and etc.
- A post-apocalypse au where Pomni awakens from a cryogenic pod to find her memories missing, and only Caine on a screen to accompany her. Together, they scour the overgrown city, in search for other survivors and hopefully, get some answers.
- A Steampunk AU where the gang is on a blimp, in search of "adventure".
- A crack self-aware AU where the Digital Circus cast knows they're just fictional characters, and as such, when the audience focus is not on them, they do whatever shit they want imaginable
- A Helltaker AU where Pomni ventures into a circus hell to get some demon gals for her dream harem.
- A singular roleswap concept where Caine and Pomni switch positions, making Pomni the new ringmaster, and Caine the new jester. Everyone else stays the same. Both realize their new positions suck hard ass and try to find a way to get things back the way they were because this is not just it girl
- Another roleswap concept, but this time; everyone retains their original personality with no changes.
- A Dark, toxic showtime AU, where Caine stalks an escaped Pomni and makes her irl existence a living hell in every way possible, so she'll have no choice but to go back and be entirely dependent on him
- Digital Artists AU where everyone goes to a digital art school. Caine is the one teacher that eats paint. All the AIs are staff/teachers.
- Archaeologist AU where everyone struggles to prove most myths are real. But then they find Caine, a mysterious, limitless being of unknown origins that was "mummified" and kept locked for unknown reasons. He offers to be their treasure guide, if they let him have fun. Chaos ensues.
- A Night at the Museum AU where Pomni is the newly hired night guard facing the horrors of museum collections being alive at night
- Crack Spy AU inspired by Johnny English and The Kingsmen. Everyone sucks at being a spy. They should all just quit ngl but the pay is good and they technically still do their jobs in the end, so-
- Steampunk Pirates AU where Caine is the Captain. All hell breaks loose as the crew tries not to go insane.... or get scurvy.
- A robot-fighting human AU inspired by Real Steel. The digital circus designs are the robots that the circus cast has
- Urban Legends AU of Caine documenting and trying to prove the existence of mythological creatures, and tries to find a way to establish communication or even befriending them.
- Dark Hearts AU inspired by my own oc au concept
- Fantasy sci-fi AU similar to Arknights
.... yk, I think the one-shot collection could house some of these stories actually, would be a waste if these were thrown into the deep recesses of my mind to be forgotten because I know I've already forgotten some
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sknyuz · 3 months ago
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guard your heart (preview) | l.c. (dino)
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synopsis — in which the king sends a knight to reel in his precious daughter—the princess—who keeps disappearing into the forest at night.
pairing — knight!dino x princess!reader (ft. prince!wonwoo)
genre — fantasy, romance, royal/medieval au, knight!chan, princess!reader
warnings — violence, mild swearing, cuts and bruises, a little manhandling from dino, alcohol consumption
wc — preview ~1.1k (full fic: tbd)
a/n — oh god i am having way too much fun writing this. i am a sucker for fantasy settings like this. can you tell by the cover art i even edited, different from my usual, minimalist ones? this was actually a request from anon, which turned out to be wayyyy longer than i had planned. releasing this by the end of the week, maybe. but without further ado, enjoy ~
if you'd like to join the taglist for this au, as usual, reblog or leave a comment on this post ^^
masterlist
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"hey, sir lee."
he straightens a little at the way you say his name. "princess?"
"do you know how to dance?"
he blinks once.
"i was taught basic waltz steps, and the proper formalities for court dances." his voice is careful, neutral, like he’s reporting his swordsmanship level. "enough to keep up, if needed." you hum, pretending to consider it. "basic, huh?" you tap your chin. "i guess you’ll survive the king’s ball without embarrassing yourself, then."
"i would hope so," he says, but there’s the tiniest edge of a smile hidden in his voice, the barest crinkle around his piercing eyes. you file the knowledge away. basic steps. enough to keep up. just in case, you tell yourself. not for any particular reason.
you spin lazily again, the golden light catching in your hair, and wonder if maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to dance with someone who wouldn’t trip over your toes for once.
you meet his gaze through the narrow slit of his helmet—sharp, slanted, unreadable—a flicker of something reluctant sparking in them. maybe even something softer, hidden too deep to name.
"think you can keep up, sir lee?" you tease, offering your hand, palm open and expectant. the smirk tugging at your lips is impossible to miss.
chan exhales slowly, metal plates shifting with the motion. "i wouldn't be the best dance partner," he says, voice even but clearly reluctant. "not compared to the noblemen you'll be dancing with at the banquet. and besides—" he taps his gauntleted fingers against his chestplate lightly, the clink of armor echoing in the wide hall, "—my armor isn't quite fit for this sort of thing, princess."
you only grin wider, stepping closer. your hand reaches up to flick the front of his helmet, the heavy faceguard, with a soft clink.
"it's an order," you announce, chin lifting in challenge.
and really, who is he to resist a royal command?
chan sighs, a quiet sound, and reluctantly takes your hand in his, his hold surprisingly light for someone weighed down by so much armor. the cold brush of metal contrasts with the careful way he cradles your fingers, almost like he's afraid of bruising you.
you wait for the usual stumble, the awkward shuffle that always comes with new dance partners. but to your surprise, it’s chan who steps first—a precise, confident glide of his foot, leading you into the first motion of the waltz without hesitation.
your head tilts slightly, caught a little off balance, not from the dance but from him. it’s not perfect, but it's not the fumbling you expected either.
because chan hasn’t just been standing there these past few days, silent as a statue while you fumbled through lessons.
he’s been watching.
and somehow, just from sight alone, he’s picked up the steps well enough to guide you—rough around the edges, sure, but steady. dependable.
you stumble once when he spins you, surprised by the unfamiliar strength behind the movement compared to madame's usual delicate corrections. he steadies you quickly, a firm hand at your waist, the clink of his armor muffled against your skirts.
"you're... not bad," you murmur, almost suspicious.
you feel, rather than see: the small smile he hides behind the heavy line of his helmet.
"i learn quickly, princess," he says, voice low and almost amused. "comes with the job."
you try to catch him off guard. it’s petty, maybe — a playful shift in your step, a sudden change in direction you don’t warn him about, just to see if the knight so confident in his armor can really keep up.
but chan—sir lee—is ready for you. he follows the change almost immediately, like he'd expected it, like he could read your thoughts before your body even moved. his grip adjusts without tightening, guiding you through the sudden pivot with a smoothness that borders on irritating.
"scheming already, princess?" he murmurs lowly, the ghost of a smirk threading through his words.
you narrow your eyes up at him, catching the slight twitch of his mouth through the small gap of his helmet.
"just keeping you on your toes, sir," you say, all honeyed sweetness.
the floor is cool and echoing underfoot, your shoes making soft scuffs against the polished stone. his armor shifts and clinks faintly with each step, but somehow, he moves like it weighs nothing. every turn, every pivot, every measured guide of your hand feels deliberate, like he’s spent years preparing for something exactly like this without ever knowing it.
for a moment, you forget about your planned stubbornness, forget about the teasing.
because you realize, startlingly, how easy it is to fall into rhythm with him, how safe his arms feel, even cloaked in cold iron and war-forged discipline.
the music isn’t playing. the instructor isn't here. the hall is vast and empty, morning sun catching the dust motes floating lazily in the air.
but somehow, the world seems to spin in time with the way he leads you.
"you're scarily good at this," you mutter, a little breathless when he spins you out and catches you again.
he only tilts his head slightly, like a curious cat sizing up something unexpected.
"observation is part of guarding, princess," he says simply. "i'd hardly be useful if i missed the steps you take."
there's a warmth that prickles at your cheeks, but you scowl lightly to cover it, flicking the edge of his helmet again just to make him huff a laugh under his breath.
"show-off," you say, half-grumbling.
he catches your wrist gently this time, steadying you as the dance slows, the space between you suddenly feeling much smaller than the grand hall would suggest.
with a final step and a sure hand at your back, chan guides you through a turn. then smoothly, almost effortlessly, lowers you into a dip.
for a half-second, your breath catches. not out of fear, but out of sheer, dizzying surprise at the fluidity of it. his hand is firm at your waist, the other holding yours steady, the whole motion feeling absurdly practiced.
your hair brushes the air as you tip backward, and when he draws you up again, it’s with that same measured strength, not a single stumble in his footing.
you blink up at him, heart a little unsteadied, though you refuse to show it as he shifts your hand gracefully to the crook of his arm and steps back.
then, chan bows.
low, precise, a perfect formal motion as if you were already center stage at the king’s grand hall.
there’s a glint in his eyes when he straightens—not quite amusement, not mockery—something lighter, something quietly proud.
you open your mouth, half a mind to laugh, half a mind to finally commend him, "not bad for a bru—"
when the doors crash open with a loud, embarrassing BANG! against the walls.
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so, that’s a small sneak peek into what’s coming up for u guys <3 this is taken from the middle of the fic so it may be a little out of context, but i wanted to throw you guys into the world, yknow?
if this is something you’re looking forward to read, reblog or comment to be added to the taglist so you’re mentioned when this full fic comes out !! tysm again <3
𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ @kstrucknet @ateez-atiny380 @alien0n3arth @cuppasunu
join here!
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starkenobi · 7 months ago
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The White Wolf | Bucky Barnes x reader
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masterlist — warnings: fantasy; romance; werewolf!bucky; pirate!reader; prince!bucky; stark!reader; soulmates.
Summary: She's one of the greatest pirates of her time, bringing chaos throughout the human kingdoms... Until an unfortunate event changes her life completely. And the white wolf makes sure to be definitive.
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The salty breeze of a typical hot day, the clear blue sky mixing with the deep blue ocean as they meet on the horizon, the sun at its peak illuminating and guiding the way. A moment of calm that Y/N wouldn't trade for anything, the feeling of belonging that only the sea could provide her.
Of course, things weren't always easy, the life she chose constantly provided an adrenaline rush, the need to fight to conquer what she wanted. Gaining fame early on, she rarely needed to worry about surviving. Not when the supernatural was on the same side, being the biggest client for her services. Dealing with other humans was one of the least of her concerns and for the Phantom crew.
There was some truth to the rumors circulating on land. Y/N Stark had renounced the golden spoon in which she was born, preferring to take possession of a ship and embrace the title of pirate. With her money, power and influence, she became one of the worst nightmares of the entire kingdom, making sure to leave her mark of chaos while plundering the rulers and their court. The pirates of Phantom enjoyed destroying the royal plans, getting in the way, especially when the royalty pursued the supernatural.
To further fuel the rumors, a new commander - from the royal guard of the largest kingdom to declare war on Y/N - was chosen for the mission to arrest the pirate. Tony Stark, her twin.
This should have been the sign that she should be more careful and prepare for the time when she'd have to face her brother. However, Y/N still had a fondness for him and memories of their youth were her weak point. But, certainly, no one expected that the always fair commander Tony Stark would attack during a storm, with no intention of taking the Phantom crew members to prison or alive, especially his own twin. 'You are a disgrace' were the only words the male Stark said before shooting the pirate he once called sister. The commander's cold, emotionless face was the last thing Y/N saw before she was swallowed by the dark waters of the sea.
"Man overboard! Attention, starboard!"
What should have been a calm routine patrol, with all the peace agreements between the four empires, quickly became a day of uncertainties. Under the watchful eyes of Captain Natasha, the crew members quickly moved to save whoever was overboard, placing the body on the deck. A woman. Natasha frowned, watching Clint - her faithful second-in-command - approach to see if the woman was dead or not.
"What is it, Clint?" The redhead arched an eyebrow, taking a few steps closer when she noticed the paleness on her companion's face. "Is she still alive?"
"Yes, she’ll need care for dehydration, maybe she was at sea for a couple of days..." Clint swallowed hard, raising the arm he was holding and showing the unconscious woman's wrist "She has the mark, Tasha."
The big white wolf appeared on the deserted beach, its paws leaving a trail in the sand. However, what caught Y/N's attention the most were its teeth bared in threat. James Buchanan Barnes was angry and didn't seem to want to talk. The pirate rolled her eyes, soaked from head to toe and exhausted from the effort she had made to get there. She couldn't believe that the so-called prince of the beautiful lupine kingdom was so temperamental.
Sure, Y/N stole a small boat and tried to leave, but, in her defense, she had unfinished business to resolve outside of that island of wolves. It wouldn't be a mark she had since birth, which the wolves say is the symbol of a soulmate, that’d make her lower her head and accept orders. Y/N was a pirate, the greatest pirate at that time, it was her obligation to maintain her status and avenge her crew.
“No, that’s absurd!” The pirate grumbled in disbelief as she felt Bucky grab her clothes and drag her across the sand. “Bad boy!”
However, the pirate's complaints were ignored no matter how much she screamed and struggled, the wolf being much stronger than the human. Crossing her arms, Y/N stopped screaming but continued to complain, determined to maintain her dissatisfaction even as she began to be dragged through the soft grass that led towards the castle. Bucky only released her when they were close enough to the prince's two best friends, Steve and Sam, who were waiting for them with a huge smile on their faces.
“Of course you’d find this all amusing.” Y/N rolled her eyes, hating how easily the two helped her up from the ground. Breaking away from them, the pirate tried to maintain what little dignity she had left, trying to clean her clothes from the salt water, sand and grass in vain. “I can’t believe I’m a prisoner in this place.”
A growl interrupted her chatter, Y/N didn’t need to look up to know who it was. “So being my soulmate is the same thing as being a prisoner, Stark?”
The pirate's ears turned red, quickly turning on her heels to face Bucky, she exclaimed in a high-pitched tone. "That's not what I meant!"
The prince rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore it, taking one of her hands and walking in silence. The two friends fell behind when they realized that Bucky had followed the path to the secret garden, knowing that the couple needed privacy at the moment.
It wasn't the first time Y/N had tried to leave, with a series of failed attempts, all of them looking like the clear act of a lost person. And that was what the pirate could be classified as, it was never easy to suddenly recover part of one's memory. When she was taken to the hospital wing, she remained in a coma for weeks, causing a commotion even when she was unconscious. Because, as if it wasn't enough that the prince's soulmate was a pirate, she was also human.
But it didn't matter to Bucky, who made visits late at night in the hope that she’d wake up and finally meet him. The news of who the unconscious woman was arrived like a meteor, or rather, it arrived through a messenger from the aquatic people who - with a certain delay - warned about the great pirate who chose to protect the magical world from others of her own kind. Bucky felt his chest fill with pride, knowing that his soulmate was a good person despite so many atrocities collected under her belt.
However, Y/N woke up with no memories, amnesia even stealing her name. Each day was a new discovery, of what she liked, what she knew, what she couldn't stand. Bucky was always by her side, the days turned into weeks, which turned into months, the two of them naturally drew closer like magnets. Almost eight months had passed when Bucky was abruptly woken from his sleep, Y/N tossing and crying in the middle of a nightmare, the memories returning like a terrible storm.
From then on, the pirate had changed drastically, somewhat confused because of her personality from when she had no memory clashing with the past. She seemed to fight against the feelings she had developed for Bucky, in a stupid attempt to return to the pirate life and get revenge on her own brother. But, at the same time, Y/N seemed not to want to complete such a thought, always leaving clues about her escape plans.
“You need to leave the past in the past, sweetheart.” The wolf finally broke the silence, both of them sitting on a bench that overlooked the beach in the distance. “I already told you, I don’t want to keep you here, we can organize for you to continue your mission to help the supernatural… But in the right way.”
“Do you think humans will leave it behind too when they find out I’m alive?” She replied, but without aggression, staring at the horizon with a certain sadness.
Bucky sighed, resting his forehead on her shoulder, squeezing their still intertwined hands lightly. "We are connected, they will respect you. Even if I have to make them kneel again."
Y/N didn't answer, she knew the prince would fulfill any promise he made, he’d use the power he had in his hands without thinking twice. And that was what Y/N feared, she didn't want Bucky risking himself and putting the island in danger because of her. She needed to make a definitive choice.
The famous pirate Stark was truly dead. Two years later, Y/N lived happily as the wife of Prince James Barnes, proudly bearing the mark of her soulmate on her arm. Secretly working with Natasha, Clint and Steve to continue the mission of protecting the supernatural, the magical kingdoms united to also fight against human laws - with the help and knowledge of Y/N. Things were going well, they were gradually gaining more security and strength, conquering space in human territory. Of course, far from the big cities it was still extremely difficult, but everyone had hope that everything would improve.
Everything was going well, until Y/N made a mistake.
“So you’re alive!” the great commander Tony Stark growled in disbelief, the revolver in his hand pointed at the ex-pirate, who refused to pick up her own weapon. “I should have known you were behind all this.”
“Tony, please, I have nothing to do with this mess.” Y/N muttered, raising her hands slightly in a sign of surrender. Her eyes calculated a possible escape, but she was once again cornered by her brother. “I’m not that woman you killed anymore.”
Tony laughed mockingly, without any humor, and without saying anything, pulled the trigger, hitting one of Y/N’s arms. She let out a grunt of pain and surprise, her body crashing against the railing of the huge bench. “Do you want me to believe that you didn’t kill these people? You didn’t plan on stealing important files and scriptures for personal gain? Wasn't it enough to have stolen everything from our family?”
“Damn it, Anthony! I was in a secret meeting with these people, until a traitor from the current human government attacked us!” Y/N said, feeling sadness mix with pain, her eyes unfocusing for a moment.
“Once a traitor, always a traitor.” Tony spat the words, ignoring what she was trying to say.
“Shit, can’t you see that this was an ambush to create a war between humans and the supernatural?”
Y/N screamed. Tony aimed the revolver again, but what neither of them expected was an aggressive growl to break the moment and a huge white wolf to appear, jumping on Tony without thinking twice.
The royal commander swore, trying to defend himself from the attack with his own fists. In the midst of the fight, the man managed to retrieve the revolver despite the wolf’s bites and scratches. Y/N, who had frozen in shock, moved without realizing it, throwing herself to protect the wolf from the new shot.
A howl of pure despair and then Y/N saw nothing but darkness.
The sky blended with the blue of the ocean, the salty breeze caressing her face and messing up her hair, the sun illuminating and leaving a certain glow on everything it touched, the scent of the flowers that took over the entire garden. A smile took over Y/N’s lips, closing her eyes to enjoy that moment of plenitude. Of peace. The feeling of being on solid ground was soothing, the sea became just a second home.
“For a moment I thought you had run away.” Bucky’s voice sounded beside her, making Y/N open her eyes to look at her beloved.
Y/N smiled knowingly, sighing when the wolf pulled her body into a tight hug. “That’d be ridiculous, James, you have that wolf radar that would locate me in an instant.”
“Right.” Placing a kiss on his wife’s neck, Bucky took a deep breath before murmuring. “Your brother woke up.”
“How is he?”
Bucky shrugged. “So far he has accepted that he’s no longer fully human.”
Y/N wanted to cry in relief, but she only allowed herself to turn around and kiss him on the lips. “Thank you for saving him.”
The truth is that Bucky, at first, never imagined that one day he would save Tony, not after the way he met him and the second attempt to kill his own sister. However, it was impossible to deny his beloved's request, especially when she woke up in tears begging to give Tony a chance and that it had all been just a communication error. Well, besides the fact that Steve had taken an interest in the human. Something about soulmates too.
That night of the ambush, Bucky didn't attack the commander to kill him, he wanted to capture him to get answers. It was months of turmoil until Y/N recovered, but any family fight they had to resolve was interrupted by a war between humans and the supernatural.
Unfortunately, Y/N decided that she’d settle the war with her own hands before it really started, something about pirate honor - even though she hadn't been one for years. Bucky thought he would lose her forever. Until Tony showed up almost dead with a Y/N in a similar state, the Stark brothers went together to fix the mess they claimed to have caused. Everyone disagreed, but something the Starks had in common was stubbornness. The result was the fall of the human royalty and the Stark brothers receiving the bite to survive their injuries.
“Anything for you, my moon.” Bucky smiled mischievously, making Y/N roll her eyes despite her blushing face.
“Bad dog as always.” Y/N retorted to hide how much her beloved’s words affected her.
With a growl of false irritation, the wolf pulled her in for another kiss, full of affection and whispered against Y/N’s lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too, my sun.”
The two remained there, enjoying each other’s presence, and Y/N for a moment felt grateful for all the choices she had made, even the wrong ones. Because everything led her to James.
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comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading and supporting my writing 💜
note: english isn’t my first language, and i don't mind if you call me inbox or dm to point out errors or typos. but please be kind!
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moonstruckme · 2 years ago
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woo!! my little mix-up is a mix of in a week ( au character ) and fade into you ( specific reader )!!
poly marauders as royal guards to a sunshine reader? :) if it's not too much trouble
- ✏️
Thanks for requesting my love <3
join the party
bodyguard!marauders x sunshine!reader ♡ 683 words
“Princess.” James wraps a hand around your elbow as you try to go out into the garden, his grip gentle but firm. “Just wait a minute, Remus needs to do a sweep before we can go out.” 
“But it’s leaving!” you cry, gaze fixed on the orange cat slinking into the bushes with something akin to longing. “He’s gonna scare it off!”
Sirius chuckles. “Remus is great with cats, angel. Knowing him, he’ll have the thing sleeping at the foot of his bed by tonight.”
“But where’ll you sleep?” James asks innocently, snickering when Sirius shoves at his shoulder. 
“It’s so cute,” you croon, eyes so heart-shaped James tenses in case you try to bolt for it. “Do you think my mom’ll let me keep it?”
“Think King’s allergic, so no,” Sirius says, squeezing your shoulder in apology. 
“What if we keep it a secret?”
James smiles at you, ready to indulge you in your hopeless fantasy, but then Remus comes back. 
“All clear,” he says seriously, and James nods at him as you rush through the door. 
It never fails to surprise him how quick you are when you want to be, and he and the others have to break into a jog to keep you within a reasonable distance as you dash for the cat, stopping a few feet away so as not to spook it. 
“Don’t do that,” Sirius says breathlessly, but it’s pointless. You’re beyond listening, all your focus on the orange tabby in front of you. 
It hisses as you get closer, and you coo, making little kissy sounds. James tries not to laugh at your obvious desperation, staying back so you can’t blame him when the cat inevitably runs off. 
“Be careful,” Remus warns. “We don’t know if it’s friendly, don’t grab it or anything.” 
“Oh, of course he’s friendly,” you murmur liltingly, advancing toward the cat slowly and low to the ground. “He’s just scared, the poor baby.” Your voice is light and sweet as meringue, and James’ heart turns to mush in his chest at hearing it. You start to extend your hand cautiously, and the tabby tenses, eyeing you warily. “It’s okay, honey, I’m not going to—” you gasp as the cat lashes out with its claws, drawing your arm back reflexively as it dashes into the bushes and out of sight.
Remus had to have been anticipating it, because he’s at your side before James can move, crouching beside you and taking your arm in his hand. He shushes you softly as you call out after the cat, and James exchanges a look with Sirius, waiting for the dark-haired boy to nod in confirmation that he’ll keep watch before James joins Remus beside you. 
“I didn’t even get to pet it,” you say morosely. James frowns at you, patting your shoulder consolingly. 
“He didn’t deserve you, angel,” he says, and Remus tsks as he turns your arm over in his grip, four shallow but long scratches oozing blood down your wrist. 
“Let’s go inside and get you fixed up,” Remus says gently, and he and James help you up, guiding you back towards the palace as you cast forlorn looks behind you. 
“This isn’t a great look for us,” Sirius teases you. “The three of us walking back into the palace with a bleeding princess.” 
You give a little laugh, your usual levity restored instantly by his joking. “It’s not like it’s a grave injury,” you reply, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “I don’t know why these two are acting like I can’t walk by myself.” 
James chuckles but keeps his hand on your back. “Like Sirius says, it’s not a great look for us. May as well appear to be taking it seriously.” 
“Some guards we are,” Remus agrees lightly. “Can’t even protect you from a feral cat.” 
“He wasn’t feral!” you say defensively. “He was just scared. He’s misunderstood.” 
“Whatever you say, gorgeous.” Sirius shrugs, opening the door for all of you. “All I know is, you’re never getting near an animal again that’s not pre-vetted by one of us. Too risky.” 
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myloveobbsessed · 4 months ago
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The Princess
And The Cobbler
•••
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
Characters: Tanjro Kamado x femreader
Notes: fantasy AU, this was inspired by some films I seen.
•••
You sit at your bay window watching whatever may be going on down in front of the palace entrance. Seeing a royal carriage stop in front of the gates and a familiar face step out makes a smile break out on your face.
It was the cobbler—Tanjiro Kamado—a peasent boy your age that you recently meant a while ago when he first showcased his shoes at the palace. And sure you could get a better shoe maker that would make your shoes look like they cost billions, but you liked the red-headed boy he was sweet, kind, and cute.
You watch the guards let him inside before quickly getting off the window and leaving your room. Swiftly you arrive at the room that the two of you usually meet in and immediately enter already seeing him sitting and waiting oh so patentily and upon seeing you arrive he promptly stands up and goes into a low greeting you.
You let out a small chuckle walking closer and sitting down. “You don't have to bow to me when we’re alone Tanjiro.” the boy straightens up again “it would be disrespectful if I didn't princess”
Your heart warms a bit at his courtesy. “And I told you to just call me by name in private Tanjiro okay…we’re friends after all” Hearing your words Tanjiros cheeks flush a bit as he just nods “yes prin- (y/n)”
“Hm that's better. Now. I would love to see my shoes now.” As if remembering what he was here for the red-head perks up a bit smile coming to his face “oh right, of course!” and he quickly steps up to his moderately big box that he carries on his back and opens it.
And pulls out a smaller box which you assume withholds your shoes inside wich makes you more excited to see them. Tanjiro walks back up to you and sits on his knees in front of you before opening the box revealing a beautiful pair of shoes that's just your taste like always.
Your eyes light up as you let out a soft gasp. You take in the delicate yet sturdy, finely stitched, and adorned with a subtle embroidery that seems to shimmer faintly under the sunlight pouring through the windows. They were exactly your style, exactly what you loved, and yet somehow felt like something entirely new. “Tanjiro… they’re perfect,” you breathe, fingertips brushing over the soft fabric.
Tanjiro grins gently taking your foot slipping each shoe on the footwear fitting perfectly and comfortably. “I’m really glad you like them. I tried something different with the lining made it softer this time, since last time you mentioned they rubbed a little.”
You blink, touched. “You remembered that?”
“Of course,” he says simply, cheeks still pink. “I always want them to fit you just right.”
You stand up testing out the shoes walking around a bit and feeling very satisfied. “Yes they're so comfy, it'll give me less pains when I have to dance around all night at balls.” you stride back up to him looking down at him as he looks up at you.
You then hold out your hand for him to take. “Dance with me.”
Tanjiro blinks up at you, clearly surprised, his eyes wide with a flustered kind of wonder. “D-Dance? With you?” he asks, pointing to himself as if there were someone else you might be referring to.
You smile, your hand still outstretched. “Yes, with me. Unless you’re saying no to your princess?”
He stares for a beat longer before quickly shaking his head, rising to his feet. “No! I-I mean—yes! I mean… I would be honored.”
Giggling softly at his flustered response, you take his calloused hand in yours, gently guiding him to the center of the room. You rest your free hand on his shoulder, and his finds your waist, tentative and light at first, like he’s afraid of doing something wrong.
The two of you begin to sway slowly, no music playing only the soft rustle of your clothes and the distant sound of birds outside. Despite his nerves, Tanjiro moves with surprising grace, his focus trained entirely on you.
“You’re a good dancer,” you murmur.
“Im just following your lead” he replies softly his eyes not leaving yours. Your heart beats a little faster at the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world.
“I hope you'll keep coming back Tanjiro…” you speak softly as he spins you a bit. “And not just for the shoes”
The boy’s smile widens as his eyes get a bit softer knowing what you're getting at. “Then ill keep coming…for the shoes and you.”
After your little dance you decided to have some tea with him beofe he wasn't on his way which of course Tanjiro couldn't refuse. The both of you sit in the palace garden the beautiful scenery adding to the serene atmosphere.
Tanjiro sits across from you and even though he has had tea with you before and still hesitates to drink his tea or eat any of the snacks served with it which erupts a small chuckle from you. You take a sip of your tea before setting it down and speaking.
“Go on Tanjiro. Its not like I'm going to make you pay for it.”
Tanjiro lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he finally picks up the delicate teacup. “I know… it’s just… everything’s always so fancy,” he says sheepishly, eyes flicking to the tray of elegant pastries and finely cut fruit between you. “I feel like I’ll break something if I’m not careful.”
You giggle, resting your chin in your hand as you lean forward slightly. “You won’t. And even if you do, it will me fine.”
That makes him smile a little more, a bit of tension easing from his shoulders as he brings the cup to his lips. He takes a careful sip and hums. “It’s good… kind of flowery.”
You beam. “It’s jasmine. One of my favorites.”
He nods and sets the cup back down gently. “You always have such nice things. But you’re… easy to talk to. It doesn’t feel like I’m sitting with a princess.”
You tilt your head at that, watching him quietly for a second. “That’s because when I’m with you, I don’t want to feel like one.”
Tanjiro meets your gaze, eyes widening just slightly before his expression softens, a faint pink coloring his cheeks again. “Then I’m really glad I came today,” he murmurs.
After a few minutes of drinking tea and eating some snacks he told you that he should probably head home. “I should get back soon. Its a bit of a long ride, and my mother might be needing me.” you set your now empty tea cup down although a bit sad to see him go you knew he needed to.
“Oh alright…hm you never talked about your family before.” you perked up realizing he's never said a word about them.
“You never asked…and I didn't think you would want to hear about my home life” he replied a bit sheepishly but you shook your head. “No I love getting to know you Tanjiro. Are you an only child?”
The boy’s heart skips a beat hearing your words. He shook his head at your question. “No. I have five siblings” your eyes widen a bit at his answer.
“Five? Really? Wow I don't even have one…do you only live with your mother?” Tanjiro shakes his head again though the smile on his face flatters a bit. “No..I live with my father as well..though he is very ill at the moment.”
Your smile softens at his words, and you lean forward slightly, resting your elbows on the table. “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that. Is he going to be okay?”
Tanjiro nods, though it’s slow and uncertain. “We’re doing what we can. He hasn’t been able to work for a while, so I’ve been helping my mom with most things… that’s part of why I started making shoes. I needed to help somehow.”
Your chest tightens, and you reach across the table to gently place your hand over his. “That’s… incredibly admirable, Tanjiro. You’re such a good son. I had no idea you carried so much.”
He glances down at your hand on his, then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze. gratitude, maybe, or a kind of fragile pride. “I just do what I have to… I love them.”
“I’d love to meet them one day,” you say softly.
His eyes widen a bit at that, a dusting of red once again coloring his cheeks. “R-really? You’d want to?”
“Of course,” you say with a small smile. “Anyone who helped raise someone as kind as you must be amazing.”
Tanjiro laughs quietly, shy but clearly touched. “I think they’d like you too…” he trails off “I really do have to go now though. But I’ll come again soon.” he stand up.
“Oh wait! Let me get your payment for the shoes real quick” you quickly get up and go back inside leaving Tanjiro to stand and patiently wait for you. After a mintue or so you come back out to the garden a bag of money in your hand stepping closer to him he notices that its more than his usual pay.
“P-princess, that is more than what you usually pay me.” you point a know smile at him and try handing him the money. “Im aware.” Tanjiro takes a small step back. “I wont take it” you give a small tilt of your head your smile flattering a bit. “Huh why not? I want you to have it.”
He shakes his head “no I refuse. I'll only take the normal amount” you half-heartedly roll your eyes at his stubbornness and step closer to him. “Just take the money Tanjiro don't be so stubborn”
Tanjiro looks torn, his brows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line as you stand there with the pouch extended toward him. His grip tightens slightly on the strap of his box, the weight of his pride clearly warring with the warmth in his chest from your gesture.
Tanjiro looks torn, his brows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line as you stand there with the pouch extended toward him. His grip tightens slightly on the strap of his box, the weight of his pride clearly warring with the warmth in his chest from your gesture.
“I-it’s not about being stubborn,” he murmurs, voice soft but firm. “I just… I don’t want things between us to feel like they’re unbalanced. I’m not here because of money, Princess. I’m here because…” His words falter, and his cheeks turn a rosy hue. “…because I like spending time with you.”
You blink. The way he said that quiet, flustered, so painfully sincere makes your chest flutter. Your hand lowers just a little, the pouch still dangling loosely from your fingers. “How about this? Consider it an advance. For the next pair.”
He opens his mouth to argue again but stops himself. Finally, after a pause, he sighs and nods, clutching the pouch close. “…Alright. But I’m making you the best pair yet.”
You grin “I'm looking forward to it” stepping closer to him softly kiss him on the cheek before stepping back again. “And since you wont take more money that will be your extra payment”
Tanjiro goes stiff the second your lips brush against his cheek. A visible flush explodes across his face deeper than before, painting his ears and neck a bright red. He blinks rapidly, lips parted in surprise as he stares at you with wide, stunned eyes.
“I-I…” he stammers, then stops, clearly struggling to recover. His hand touches the spot you kissed as if to confirm it actually happened. Then slowly, a shy, radiant smile spreads across his face. “Th-that’s… more than enough.”
You can’t help but laugh gently at how flustered he is, and Tanjiro lets out a nervous chuckle too, still looking like his heart’s about to leap out of his chest.
“I should go before I melt,” he jokes quietly, adjusting his box on his back. “But… thank you. For everything. Really.”
“Come back soon, okay?”
“I will,” he promises, voice still soft. “You have my word, (y/n).”
And with one last look one that lingers just a second longer than it probably should he turns and walks away down the garden path, his heart light and your kiss still warm on his cheek.
•••
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sarnai4 · 1 month ago
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Freaky Friday (Sorta)
Claudia: I heard about this story where these two people switched bodies. We should try!
Hermia: Laudi, I have grown rather attached to this body. I would rather keep it.
Claudia: No, not that. I mean, we should switch roles.
Hermia: In what way?
Claudia: You’re always the wise grandma and I’m the fabulously cool great-aunt. We could swap for a week.
Hermia: A week? I doubt we would last a day.
Claudia: You've got no faith in us. We can do it.
Hermia (amused): What if we test this out first? That way, we do not make fools of ourselves.
Claudia: I’m telling you, it won’t be necessary.
Hermia: If it is not, I will apologize.
Claudia (thinking it over): That works for me.
Hermia: Imagine that Kostas just found a new spellbook and wants to test it out. You would…
Claudia: Go through it with…(sees Hermia shake her head) Guide him through…(sees the same) Try it out myself first to see if it’s safe?
Hermia: Ideally, you would advise him against trying out unfamiliar spellbooks since the potential danger is immeasurable. 
Claudia: Could I still try it when he leaves?
Hermia: No.
Claudia: But…it’s a spellbook. 
Hermia: And as the wise figure, you would know to not risk lives for the sake of satisfying your curiosity.
Claudia (looks faint): O-okay, I can do that. (Takes a breath) Let’s give you a turn. 
Hermia: All right.
Claudia: Imagine that Danae’s really sad about the Patrollers’ attacks. To cheer her up, you…
Hermia: Propose a new strategy.
Claudia: Nope.
Hermia: Offer healthy coping strategies for depression.
Claudia: NOPE.
Hermia (frowns in confusion)
Claudia (excitedly): Cheer her up with a magic show!
Hermia:...How would that help?
Claudia: It’s fun!
Hermia:...
Claudia: Fine, we stay as we are.
Hermia: Thank you.
[These characters are from the fantasy novel, Changing Waters. You can check out the intro to the world, Jiol, here on Amazon!]
Description below!
What rests deep in the ocean? Mermaids? Monsters? Magic? All that and more.
Far below where any human can survive, there is a kingdom called Jiol. Kostas is a 14-year-old sorcerer who resides there with his mother and friends, but it is not their home. A home is filled with love, not fear and death. It is merely where they try to survive while the royal guards, the Patrollers, constantly raid the village. They kill anyone with tails, webbing, or fins—anyone who mutated for this underwater existence.
To protect innocent lives from the unending attacks, Kostas must get stronger even if this involves going behind his mother’s back. Training, sorcery, and seers are the villagers’ only hope against the Patrollers and a royal vizier who is as cruel as he is powerful. If Kostas cannot succeed as a protector of the village, Jiolans like him will be massacred to the point of extinction.
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morrysonando · 1 year ago
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My (real) first attempt at an AU (go easy on me lol), "Undertale Yellow: Inherited Justice"! This is an AU of Undertale yellow that assigns roles to certain characters to see how the world of Undertale yellow would operate under the characters leading different lives but still retaining most of their personalities and (most) their species. Starlo takes on the role of martlet in this AU as the royal guard member (or leader is his case lol) that assists you in your journey, here are some details about him:D - Based his personality on fantasy novels instead of westerns in this timeline - Became a royal guard because of this fact and rose up the ranks to leader - Doesn't believe he deserves the role but does his job enthusiastically as he wants to keep others happy and doesn't like disappointing others - Never met the feisty five -Cerobas favorite customer - His family are all blacksmiths in this timeline and he gets along with them well, regularly visiting them to tell tall tales about his escapades - Killed martlet incidentally out of panic and desperation and has never forgave himself to this day - These feelings of guilt guide his every action, feeling as though he will never be able to repay what he took that fateful day - Believes he was also responsible for clovers death and blames himself even more for that too and doesn't have the heart to tell Salvia the "truth" until later on - He wasn't actually responsible for clover's death, he just believes he was because he doesn't know the full story - "Hates" mooch and what she's done to Neo Waterfall, vows to stop her reign of terror every day - Secretly finds mooch captivating in an odd way - Depending on the route he also takes a liking to dalv -says that if he trains hard enough he'll one day achieve "the ultimate sword magic" no one knows what that means. - Has millions of adoring fans in the Forlorn Isles
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inky-duchess · 2 years ago
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Fantasy Guide to Royal Children - Heirs and Spares
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The lives of Princesses and Princes are of interest to most fantasy writers, it's where many of our heroes, side characters and antagonists hail from. But what is there life like? Is it always ballgrowns and servants? Or something more?
A Strict Order of Precedence
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The first thing to know about royal children and siblings is that there's a very strict precedence of importance. Is it fair? No. But this is a system, it doesn't have to be fair. The heir comes first without argument. They are the most important child, they are always greeted first, they are the one to stand next to the monarch or their parents at occasions, they literally go first - and this doesn't change with age, if the heir is the youngest, they still have precedence over their siblings. After the heir, order of predence goes by age and the order effects the life of the children. For example, the older sister will marry begore any of her sisters. This order of deference will be so engrained in your character's life that they will believe it the norm and rarely question it, it probably won't spark any in-fighting.
Accommodation & Staff
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Royal children are usually raised one of two ways. Either they are raised at court, in the same Palace as their parents or they are raised away from court under the care of trusted servants. Being raised away from their parents isn't a sign of remoteness or dislike or terrible parenting, it was a way of break a child into the constraints of royal life while giving them freedom of scrunity or danger. Usually these children are raised in the countryside for their health, as cities are usually cesspits for disease. Their parents would come to visit them or allow them to visit them at court. Children raised at court are raised with a higher level of scrunity and attention. They will be in the public eye.
Royal children will always be surrounded by staff. There will be nurses to wash and dress them, nannies to discipline and direct them, guards to protect them and usually, a guardian known as a governess to run their household and care for their needs. Staff are not allowed to hit royal children and must obey their commands. Some royal children were very close to their staff:
Kat Ashley and Elizabeth I
Baroness Lehzen and Queen Victoria
Klementy Grigorievich Nagorny and the Tsarevich Alexei Nikolaevich
Lala Bill and Prince John
However, some royal children faced neglect from their staff. George VI was abused by his nanny, who would pinch him during important occasions, openly favour his elder brother over him and deny him food, which many have been a cause of his speech impediment. After the Russian Revolution, another of the Tsarevich's nannies proved less loyal than the other. Andrei Yeremeyevich Derevenko abandoned his charge, but not before ordering the boy around and insulting him.
Day to Day Life
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Royal children would be educated withing their home by tutors. They would usually take lessons all together (the heir may take other lessons). A royal child would recieve an education in languages, arithmetic, geography, etiquette, dancing, music, sports such as riding and literature. Sometimes they would even share lessons with the children of trusted nobles or their cousins. Only the heir will be taught statecraft and how to reign. There is no rhyme nor reason a spare would learn how to rule.
Some royal children are taught the value of their position. Many royal children will be raised strictly to adhere to their social standing and their place in it. Some children may be raised in isolation, kept from mingling and raised to think of themselves as higher than those around them. Some royal families preferred to raise their children as "normal" as possible. The last Romanov children slept in camp beds, with no pillows and we're expected to tidy their own rooms and help the servants. They didn't even use their proper titles, they were called by their names and given a tight monthly allowance to spend. Alexandra of Denmark and her sisters used to make their own clothes. Some royal children could even be encouraged to play with the children of servants and staff as well as nobility (Kolya Derevenko and Tsarevich Alexei Nikolaevich, Winifred Thomas and Prince John). Companionship was a great honour for noble and common child alike as sometimes, they would be invited to live or be educated alongside by the royal children.
Royal children will not undertake royal duties until they are of age. Younger children be be present for large scale events such as jubilees but would not be expected to partake in any duties themselves. When they are of age, they will usually be granted an annual allowance, be invited to social events, invited to be patrons of charities and participate in royal duties.
Heir Vs Spare
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Heirs have more responsibility, all the prestige, more power but they have less freedom, less room to explore their own lives and be expected to always be the epitome of perfect. Heirs will be given responsibilities in government, sitting in on state meetings or undertaking state duties.
Spares have little in the way of real power but have the ability to live less regimental lives and gave more agency in their personal lives. Spares may act as ambassadors to other nations or undertake state visits on behalf of the monarchy or even take positions in the army. Spares are encouraged to find positions to support themselves outside the family, either in a marriage or undertaking some service to the country. Spares who stay in the country, tend to act as unofficial advisers to their sibling when they become monarch.
All Grown Up
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When royal children grow up, there are usually certain expectations and limitations.
Heirs will be married quickly, the lineage must be secure. Heirs will usually marry either as part of a political alliance or marry somebody suitable - from a good family, the right background, and able to fit into a certain mould (i.e malleable, amiable and loyal). They will be expected to focus on the country, it's needs and support the monarch at all times. Their social circles will be scruntised, their every move will be noted and remarked upon. Heirs will never gave to worry about funding their lifestyle, the Crown is their job and it supports them.
Spares can marry or remain single if they choose, (but if the monarch instructs them go marry they must). Spares can travel, they can be idle, they can even persue amusements not permitted for the heir. Spares can win glory on the battlefield and mix with all sorts of people. That isn't to say spares are useless, spares often occupy very important spaces in society and government. Spares will usually take these positions not for just status but also for the pay. This is why spares are granted royal titles such as dukedoms (they can make money off the lands, be able to build a dynasty for themselves and their heirs and gain status).
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demifiendrsa · 2 years ago
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Metaphor: ReFantazio — The Royal Tournament
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Japanese version
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Official website footage
Metaphor: ReFantazio will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S, PlayStation 4, and PC (Microsoft Store, Steam) in Fall 2024.
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■ Story
This is a story of how people must find unity to elect a new king.
Our story takes place in The United Kingdom of Euchronia, where the assassination of the king brings chaos and unrest to the land.
Then, one fateful day, a magic known only to the king called the Royal Magic is invoked, and the world becomes embroiled in a royal tournament for the throne.
In the midst of this, the protagonist, together with his partner, the fairy Galica, must find a way to break the curse that has been placed on the prince that the kingdom believes to be dead. To do so, they depart on a journey across the vast land.
They will discover that in order to achieve their goal, they must participate in the tournament for the throne, and this great task shall require them to ally with many friends and followers of the various tribes inhabiting the world.
■ Characters
Protagonist (voiced by Natsuki Hanae)
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Together with the fairy, Galica, he embarks on a journey to lift the deadly curse placed on his childhood friend, the prince of Euchronia.
He is a boy of the elda tribe, branded as a “tainted” people by the state religion who believe they have inherited dangerous and heretical magic. Being so rare among the populous, they are detested and discriminated against throughout the kingdom.
Gallica (voiced by Sumire Morohoshi)
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Not only a traveling companion, Gallica is the guide who helps the protagonist carry out his mission to save the prince. Although she is too small to participate in battles, her knowledge of magic and ability to sense magla is superior to the protagonist due to her fairy nature. She doesn’t mince words, but she is a reassuring ally on his journey.
Strohl (voiced by Kensho Ono)
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He is a young man of the clemar tribe who meets the protagonist in the recruitment centre for the State Army. A smart young man with a strong sense of justice, he hails from a noble family. And yet, it seems his circumstances are complicated, as it is rare for a noble to enlist in the army alongside commoners.
Hulkenberg (voiced by Saori Hayami)
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A knight of the roussainte tribe and former member of the royal family’s Kingsguard who served by the prince’s side. Despite her young age, she excelled in the use of various weaponry, and was assigned to the personal guard of the prince. But when the prince was attacked, she failed to protect him and set out to wander, carrying the stigma of this failure in her heart.
Heismay (voiced by Akio Ootsuka)
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A former knight of the eugief tribe. He has acute perception compared to most others, due in part to the eugief trait of being sensitive to sound.
With an appearance that differs greatly from other tribes, it’s not uncommon for eugiefs to be discriminated against—and it seems Heismay is no exception, his past his own burden to bear.
■ Followers
Meet and bond with your followers.
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■ Game Mechanics
Unique battles that combine action and turn-based commands. Party customization offering a high degree of freedom and strategy. An evolution of the realistic day-by-day journey of the Persona series.
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■ Staff
Director – Katsura Hashino (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)
Character Designer – Shigenori Soejima (Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)
Composer – Shoji Meguro (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)
Concept Artist – Koda Kazuma (Notable Work: NieR:Automata)
Mechanical Designer – Ikuto Yamashita (Notable Work: Neon Genesis Evangelion)
■ Art and Sound
Journey through a vast and magnificent fantasy world. Explore the game alongside an intuitive and beautiful user interface that elevates the experience. Lend your ear to masterfully crafted music utilizing captivating unique chants.
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■ New Screenshots
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messofoctober · 1 year ago
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Cornered in the tavern, Cellbit and Roier need to find a way to escape from the royal guard. Fortunately, they have exactly who they need.
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Hey guys! This is the new chapter of my Disney Tangled Au and my entry for the seventh day of SpiderBit Week organized by @anonymous-dentist !! Todays theme is Fantasy and I think it fits pretty well with my au so here it is!!
In case you haven't read the rest of the story here is the summary:
"Tomorrow night, the sky will be lit up with these, um, lanterns." He set the painting aside and pointed the frying pan again. "That's why I need you to be my guide. Your job is to take me to them and then bring me back safely. And only then will I return your backpack. ¿De acuerdo?"
Twenty years after the disappearance of Prince Roier, the archaeologist Cellbit finds a somewhat peculiar man trapped in a tower.
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zealotpara · 5 months ago
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I'm still not exactly sure how to use this site, but chat I'm looking for character design inspos that fit these criterias but don't worry if your examples don't match every single one of these:
Bright-eyed but recently traumatized. A little disturbed.
Young girl (boy or anything else is fine too).
8-12 years old preferrably but as long as they're not super old.
Main character material. Shonen vibes?
Gal is a ghost, but the references don't need to be.
She's Princess Gal from Gal the Ghost Princess, a web series I'm working on. In very early planning stages.
Just looking for facial expressions right now, something to put on my Pinterest board, but here's some more info about the character.
Primarily blue color scheme.
Unsure of race and ethnicity rn.
Skin color, hair color, eye color? EYE DUNNO.
Thinking curly hair.
1930s-40s light steampunk aesthetic mixed with Disney princess vibes. Nothing overdetailed or too fancy, I want this character and world to have very grounded down-to-earth designs despite the supernatural and fantasy elements.
I want her to wear dresses primarily (ghosts change clothes I guess?). But like I said nothing fancy.
The living world has a jazzy lowkey steampunk vibe with a deep connection to this universe's spirit world. Think Legend of Korra, but not so AtLA-coded. More American 🇺🇲 yeehaw brother. Maybe the characters have Louisiana accents.
The story starts off with Gal dying during an attack on the royal palace when an antagonist steals the spirit crowns that were sealed away and guarded by the royal family. The connection between the living and spirit worlds is destroyed, so Gal can't be seen or heard by her living friends and family like the ghosts she grew up around always could.
The spirits can influence the living world in subtle ways, so they start up a spirit guide school (or maybe it already existed but they have to change their methods) of which Gal joins to try to connect with her family as much as she can.
Themes of learning that loss isn't the end, coping with death/loss.
The monarchy is more centered around protecting the connection to the spirit world. They live in a democratic state so elected officials take care of the country itself while the royals focus on maintaining the supernatural part. Maybe the monarchy used to do both, but at some point in their history they realized for a bunch of reasons that a consitutional approach was better, instead of one family ruling everything.
Target audience all ages. Whoever enjoys a good princess adventure story (assuming I can even write this well. 😬)
Influences:
Sofia the First
Elena of Avalor
Tangled/TTS
Coraline
Frankelda's Book of Spooks
Princess and the Frog
The Legend of Korra
Avatar: the Last Airbender
Nightmare Before Christmas
When I do eventually start releasing chapters for this, I might post them here but definitely at www.zealotpara.com.
Unlike my other novels I'm writing, this story is something I want to openly share the creative process, spoilers, and everything for for free and as I'm writing it. Instead of keeping it to myself and writing buddies, and it not seeing the light of day 'til publishing. I want this to be a community effort!
Anyway, if y'all have any character designs or other stories of any medium you think would be good influnces for me, I'd love to hear them!
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winterpinetrees · 6 months ago
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Assigned Reading (The Gap Years 2x5)
September 20th
Boulder, CO
Three royal elves (the youngest of whom was born in 1933) try to read a book about the Roaring 20s. They have their lives about as figured out as Nick Carraway does; that is to say, not at all.
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The book he sets down in front of the cashier is deep blue and only as thick as the side of his hand. He’s not much of a reader. Usually the human books that cross his path are tomes, like Lord of the Rings, fifteen years ago when his mother declared that the english translation for their kind would now be elves instead of fairies. This book isn’t fantasy, though it still carries an air of magic. It’s from the electric time before he was born, when his mother sang in speakeasies and wasn’t apex in anything but name. It’s a classic, a representation of the Jazz age, or that’s what the back says. Sierra looks over his shoulder in line and squawks. Apparently the mere existence of The Great Gatsby in his hands is a joke worth shouting across the store. 
He pays anyway, despite Clay’s complaint that if he’d wanted to read the Great American Novel they could’ve gotten one of the dozen copies at his house. Apparently there’s a movie. Apparently the movie has an actor that… and now they’re making fun of Brian. Apparently the movie has an actor that bears a passing resemblance to Brian and falls in love. Well, a lot of humans are blond-haired and blue-eyed. Notably fewer are hooking up with a princess. Is there a princess in The Great Gatsby? He has to assume not, it’s an American story. Maybe this Daisy Buchanan is simply part of a rich family, but then again, that’s Brian too.
In the parking lot, the Adusts wait for them on the hood of their car. Jezero hugs one leg up to his chest and Zerada sprawls like a fox soaking up the sun. This summer they and the humans spent hours arguing about what to “buy”, even though Zerada would probably steal whatever they decided on for the thrill. His old friends wanted something flashy, his new friends warned that this was war and they wanted to travel unnoticed, and Sierra didn’t add much except that most luxury cars can’t stand up to the long-distance driving that this quest requires. She specifically warned them against anything made by her father’s company. 
“He sells style and dreams, but doesn’t actually know anything about cars”. 
“What about The Audacity?” Jezero had replied. 
“My mama and I built this one,” she said, banging a fist on the roof.
They’d scoffed, but the next time he saw the duo, they were in a car that Sierra had approved. In bright red, that is. Their family color is orange, but elves in the human world make due. It’s like Jezero’s thin pants and the stacked bracelets around his right wrist. They’d prefer elven clothes and their noble vambrace, but it’s better than a prisoner’s uniform. Like his sister, Jezero looks good in human clothes. Zerada was quick to share with the humans that Marin’s had a longtime crush on an additional Adust, but they’ve changed since the breakout. Even after six years at the Conservatory and a confirmed kill, Jezero was casual and charming. Now the Lord of Genus Adust is all too aware. Besides, after everything he’s seen from Brian and Zerada, Marin does not have the emotional space for a relationship. The last coup was marked by his mother stabbing her boyfriend in the heart, after all. 
He’s nervously joking with Jezero when the humans follow him out of the store. First, Clay, with a book about epidemics and disease and something else hidden under it. Of course he does, the man is twitchy and guarded and on the verge of a breakdown. Then Sierra with a how-to guide and a bookmark. Lastly Brian hoists himself onto the hood of the car three books, and presses a thin novel into Zerada’s hands.
 “So you can argue with Marin about what the Great American Novel is,”
She flips to the back and cracks a smile. “Is this a compliment or an insult?”
He attempts a sly grin of his own, then breaks and starts beaming. The other humans roll their eyes and look away. “It’s a controversial book. I think you have to decide for yourself. We’re a bit more important, at least”. 
His betrothed would be a better apex than him, and no one has ever tried to hide it. There’s still something of a thrill to seeing her in action, magic and manipulation and something honest underneath it all. She’s always had more going on than him. More adventures, more ambitions, more spilled blood when all of it goes wrong. When they scaled the hundred-foot-tall statues in the capital, she always led the way. As far as he can tell, Brian’s hobbies are about the same. Surfing, wrestling, mountain-biking, chasing lovers or sky-high view counts: everything at a breakneck speed. The only time his heart isn’t racing is when he’s reading poetry or old classics like the ones he’s trying to put into the magical messenger bag. Marin can see why they’ve been dancing around each other the past few months. It’s just that she’s playing a second game that he refuses to engage in. The governor’s son must suspect what is happening, but then again, he’s the idealist of the three. 
“So, where to next?” Jezero asks.
In the days since the dozen “terrorist” attacks against nuclear labs, they’ve been doing damage control. Their winding path has brought them to Boulder, Colorado, a place with a surprising bond to Voyager settlements on coasts two thousand miles away. He’d never have risked a trip before the attacks, seeing as the new apex had a kid with a Voyager spark, but apparently people are pissed. The contact they spoke to (a human!) had bruised knuckles from what she only described as a political disagreement. 
“Something indoors, at least until after dinner,” Zera replies. “This has to be hotter than usual for the season”. 
Sierra mutters about weather patterns and climate being an average, but Clay just shrugs his shoulders and says global warming as if anything else would be burying the truth.
Brian (already without his heavy varsity jacket) disgrees. “There’s some sick rock climbing nearby”.
“It’ll cool off tomorrow,” Marin guesses. “We can afford to stay the night here. Any soldiers nearby will be busy with the scientists”. 
“Well, if we’re that confident, there’s a lab I’d like to visit”. Sierra takes a step towards her car, and pauses when Jezero jumps down to follow. “Everyone is trigger happy right now. This should stay a human thing”. Clay grimaces. He was always more subtle when splitting the party.
They all nod and retreat. Jezero rolls his shoulders back in a way that reminds him of a prowling beast, but doesn't say anything else. Three elven nobles stand in a parking lot. This is why they’ve got to conquer the human realm. It’s too hot already. 
“I guess I’ve got a book to read,” she says, flipping through the pages. 
“I was going to get their help with this one,” Marin adds. “I don’t know American culture”. And he can’t ask his mother, not unless he claims the scepter and helm and the rumors are true. 
“Internet?” Zerada replies. 
“Sierra will kill me if I another phone”.
They all nod. There’s a reason the nobility of the post-Lazarus world never invested in tech. 
Not long after, the three of them are all by a broad linden tree with a single laptop open to sparknotes and one copy of The Great Gatsby. Zera lies with her arms behind her head, Jez calls down interpretations from a low tree branch, and Marin actually reads the thing, stopping every few paragraphs to question whether the Middle West is an old word for the Midwest or to confirm that Yale is a fancy college like the one's Clay and Brian will attend. Between their tutoring in history, Marin’s mother’s habit of telling stories on her good days, and Zerada’s decade living in the human realm, they think it’s working well enough. 
It’s a compelling story. The writing has a cadence that some human books are missing. He sees burned-out relatives in hulking Tom Buchannan, though their epic accomplishments had been war games at the Conservatory instead of college football. The Carraways are cowering war profiteers and the narrator is a fool. Daisy is smarter than she acts, caught between love and a kind of betrothal. 
(Poor thing, Zerada mutters when the lady voices her hopes for her daughter)
Then, Zerada approves but he has his concerns, the parties. It’s clearly supposed to be depraved, what with the affairs and the excess and the narrator waking up half-naked in another man’s bed, but Marin did run off to the human realm. Uselessly elaborate gadgets and drama without consequence are the draws that bring nobility from their world to this one. He guesses New York City isn’t full of speakeasies anymore, mostly because Zera has talked about Macau and Monaco but never Manhattan, but it’s still the same familiar desires. Did his mother call for a direct path through the void between San Francisco and New York City so she could feel like Nick again? So she could leave the nobility behind for an evening and imagine that the unreality around her was a glittering skyline?  He hasn’t seen New York in fifty years, and those few memories he does have are of smoky subway lines and Harlem streets. 
Clay’s father has an apartment in the heart of the city though. They’ll go northeast someday, over that old bridge, and he’ll see the city “in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world”. The lights will be like the sun against a melting glacier, knowing that his old friends are following behind him. 
After an hour or two they reach the end of the fifth chapter, and Zerada has remembered or deduced that Gatsby dies at the end. 
“He’s not one of the real human nobility, so he’ll lose it all to show the fallibility of the American Dream. Can you tell I’ve been spending too much time with Brian?”
“How’s that going, sister?” Jezero laughs. It's more forced than Marin remembers. 
“Wonderfully. He’s not what I’d expect from a governor’s son. Brian is… clear”. 
Brian is idealistic and full of passion, but any clarity he has is like staring into the sun: Objective, immediate, and blinding. All he has are theory, then, completely unrelated, and blood on his fists. 
“He sees so much, but won’t engage with any of it”, she continues. “And well, I can read him like a book”. 
“Something about those eyes too. They’re certainly clear”. 
He turns to glare at Jezero. “Be normal about that boy or so help me Lazarus…”
“Oh please, like his Ascendance didn’t conquer the world because he missed his human boyfriend”.
Marin raises his hands and lets his eyes glow. “Lazarus Sondaica? Highest and most powerful ancestor? You’re being insulted. Feel free to drag these two back into the void”.
“We’re descended from him too, you know,” Zerada adds, and throws a handful of grass at his head. Them and the entire high nobility. It’s been over four thousand years and at least twenty generations since their way of life began. 
“Do you believe in that anyway? Throwing yourself into the void once there’s an heir old enough to take over?” Her sibling adds. 
Marin gives a casual shrug. If their regalia means that death isn’t permanent, then why not? Of course, he’ll have to get his hands on it first to find out. Immortality isn’t a topic to mention lightly though. 
“Well, from the way everyone talked, I’m glad I never knew my great-uncle”.
Zerada’s eyes, with their perfect makeup, go wide. “Life and death, of course! It’s a miracle we had anyone to rescue, considering how many non-combatants he had killed in the last coup”. 
“Maybe he should’ve finished the job. Would’ve saved me trouble, at least”. Jezero swings down from the bough of the tree and holds his sister’s gaze. “Some of us weren’t partying at the end of our era”. 
“If I hadn’t been, then all three of us would be under the ice. Or buried somewhere else,  with the worms”.
In his mind, Sierra makes a gadget from nothing to scatter a squadron of elves. The lights of a carnival game scream and Brian hands him a toy tiger for his stash. Clay drove them through the high desert for six hundred miles to reach Zera, but were they doomed without her? The book in his hands is about power and how it dies.
“There was a coup for a reason. My mother got soft, the humans kept getting stronger, and something snapped. Even if Apex Tyern had slaughtered half the high nobility, then we’d still have had Lazarins like Devana Marolak turning traitor. Maybe it'd have even been a revolution by the sparks. Nothing we can do now but fight it out”. 
It almost shuts both of them up. Zerada still says one last thing before they return to the car. 
“That sounded a lot like Clay. I guess we're both seeing things differently”.
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Sierra's father was once meant to resemble a better version of Elon Musk. Unfortunately, that man is a fascist. He no place in my story.
@lokiwaffles @reggie246 @wishndreamer
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