#character: empress

[alley-cats-arts]

[apple8ees]

third of the @comicaurora tarot cards… for some reason the quality of this image looks horrible in tumblr but it's too early in the morning to figure out. anyways big tree am i right

[theinnerunderrain]

"Venus, planet of love was destroyed by global warming" [Yandere! Emperor x Fem! Princess Reader x Yandere! Empress]

Warnings/tags : Yandere themes, mentions of war and violence, minor character death, historical, coercion, suggestive themes.

Notes: I might write a part 2 for this but it'll be a lot darker and have more suggestive (adult) themes!

+

The Empress of the Solis Imperium was renowned as the most noble woman on the entire continent.

As a mere princess from a neighboring region, you had the privilege of catching sight of the empress at a few royal occasions. A single meeting was all it took for you to deem her the most noble woman you had ever encountered. Every step she took, every breath she drew, every movement she made exuded nothing but elegance. She was a true epitome of beauty. You were a mere whisper of a presence from a distant land, with no power or wealth to rival hers. So, it was almost inevitable when the Solis Imperium chose to seize your country, the invasion heralded by the clash of swords and gunfire under the dreary cover of a rainy dawn. Startled from sleep, your mother hastily draped an overcoat over your nightgown, her urgent gestures propelling you down the dimly lit hallway.

As you followed closely behind your mother, shouts echoed around you, growing louder with each step. Suddenly, a deafening gunshot pierced the air, and you watched in horror as blood began to seep from your mother's back.

Her startled scream filled the hallway as she crumpled to the floor. Dropping to her side, you tried desperately to help, but before you could do anything, imperial knights caught up to you. Their strong grip tore you away from your wailing mother. You couldn't remember what happened next, only seeing another soldier approach her before darkness enveloped you, the last sound echoing in your mind being your mother's cries.

Upon waking, expecting to find yourself in a dark dungeon surrounded by eerie creatures and chains weighing down your wrists, you were instead greeted by the comfort of a soft bed and the sensation of clean, new clothes against your skin. A maid stood beside your bed, busily preparing a warm cup of tea. As she noticed you were awake, she turned to you with a gentle smile, her expression tender and welcoming.

"Ah, you're awake," she exclaimed softly, a look of relief crossing her face. "I was worried, as the young miss has been asleep for a few days now."

You tried to reply but only managed a soft cough, prompting the maid to hand you the cup of tea. You hesitated, staring at the warm liquid, its bright orange hue inviting yet unfamiliar. Taking a cautious sip, you were pleasantly surprised by its flavor—a delightful blend of grapefruit with a hint of honey.

"It must be delicious! It was recommended by the empress, after all," the maid remarked with a smile, her eyes bright with anticipation of your reaction. You nodded in response, taking another sip and feeling the warmth of the tea soothing your sore throat.

The maid continued speaking, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Ah, perhaps I shouldn't be distracting you so much. Please wait here; I must inform the empress." With that, she hurried out of the room, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and the weight of the news you had just received.

Before you could stop her to ask more questions, the maid hurriedly left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You stared at the now empty cup of tea, trying to process everything that had just occurred. A war had broken out, your kingdom invaded, your mother attacked, and an imperial knight had apprehended you. Your family, your people, your knights—all gone. They were gone, gone, gone. Your stomach twisted at the thoughts, a wave of nausea rising as if you were about to vomit. Dropping the empty cup of tea into your lap, you buried your head in your hands, overwhelmed by the realization that you might be the only one left alive. The weight of survivor's guilt bore down on you as you thought, "I should have died too."

As the door creaked open, you were startled from your reverie, looking up to behold the empress entering the room. Your eyes widened in awe, but you swiftly composed yourself, offering a slight bow despite your bedridden state.

"Ah, you're awake. I was quite worried for you," the empress remarked, gracefully making her way to sit beside your bed. Her smile was soft yet elegant, accentuating her features. Her mahogany blonde hair was artfully pinned behind her ears, and she was dressed in a flowing pastel gown that emphasized her regal presence. Her piercing blue eyes, filled with concern yet there was an oddness of madness behind them, met yours, and you felt a wave of reassurance wash over you in her presence.

"It must have been shocking to awaken to such violence. I offer my sincere apologies for the loss of your kingdom and family," the empress continued, her voice filled with genuine sympathy.

You couldn't help but feel a wave of sickness wash over you, knowing that she was partially responsible for the decision to invade your land. Despite this, you remained silent, listening to her words. She reached out and gently took hold of your hands, her fingers adorned with a silky white glove.

"Yet, you are still a princess, and we cannot simply discard you like an expendable commoner," the empress said, her tone laced with a mixture of sympathy and detachment.

You wanted to scoff at the irony of her words, to scream and claw at her flawless facade. Her excuses and lies flowed effortlessly, masking the truth with each elegant syllable. If her words held any weight, they would have spared your elder brother, who possessed far more knowledge and capability than you. Yet, they chose to spare you, knowing you lacked the charm, power, or influence to pose any threat.

"Given your tender age, my husband—or the emperor, in this case—has decided to position you as a concubine. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" she asked, her voice laced with a deceptive sweetness. As her thumb tenderly stroked against your palm, the scent of roses invaded your senses.

"Your only responsibility is to produce an heir. Many do not know this, but it is difficult for the emperor and me to conceive."

Your mouth instantly went dry at her words, and you stared at her with wide eyes, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. Yet, her expression remained sweet and unchanging, despite your obvious discomfort.

"Haha, don't stare at me like that. You're acting as if we're sending you to war," she teased, reaching to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. A wave of heat washed over you, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, contrasting with the empress's cold hand against your skin. Your head began to throb, and your limbs felt heavy and weak.

"Ah, the tea must be setting in now," the empress commented, her tone nonchalant as she observed your discomfort.

The tea? The tea that the maid had served you earlier. You realized, with a sinking feeling, that it must have been laced with something to induce this sudden weakness and disorientation. Panic began to rise within you as you struggled to maintain consciousness, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of the situation. The empress gently pushed you back onto the bed until your head rested against the pillow. As she stood up, her beautiful face left a lasting impression in your blurry vision.

"Rest up now, my dear. You have many long days ahead of you," she said, her voice fading as darkness overtook your senses, and you slipped into unconsciousness.

-

Upon awakening, the gravity of the empress's words became apparent. You were swiftly ushered into a bath, attended by servants who scrubbed your skin and combed your hair with oils. Their ministrations were firm yet gentle, leaving no marks but providing a discomfort that hinted at the magnitude of your new reality. After the bath, you were clothed in a dress of beige hue, its fabric exquisite and embellished with intricate floral patterns and delicate frills. It was a garment of elegance and refinement, a stark contrast to the simple attire of your past, serving as a poignant symbol of the profound changes in your life.

After the servants had prepared you, you were ushered into a grand dining hall to have breakfast with the empress and emperor. You were seated directly across from the empress, her forever sweet smile lighting up the room, while the emperor sat at the head of the table. A lavish spread awaited you, with stacks of food including soup, bread, chicken, and vibrant fruits laid out before you. However, your attention was drawn to the two rulers. It was your first time being in such close proximity to the emperor. In contrast to the empress, his hair was as dark as the night, and his eyes were a soft shade of teal, giving him a more reserved and colder aura compared to the warm presence of the empress. He appeared to be five or six years older than the empress, meaning he was approximately ten years older than you, nearing his forties.

"Princess [First Name]."

The resonant timbre of the emperor's voice momentarily broke your reverie, prompting you to look up at him, your hands instinctively fidgeting with your dress beneath the table.

"I apologize for the delayed greeting, as my duties have demanded much of my time," he began, his tone measured and formal. "Allow me to express my deepest condolences for the tragedy that befell your land. May your family rest in peace."

His words, though seemingly sincere, lacked the warmth and empathy that would have provided true solace. It was evident that his expression of sympathy was more a matter of protocol than genuine compassion for the plight of your small nation. You forced a smile, though it failed to reach the corners of your eyes.

"Ah, thank you so much for your kindness and sincerity," you replied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

You thanked them, though it was for nothing. Certainly not for the loss of your family and people. Not for the seizure of your land and the imposition of a life that felt like being a doll in the hands of a capricious child. The emperor nodded at your words before continuing, delicately cutting into a piece of chicken with a silver fork that appeared to be worth a small fortune.

"You are most welcome. I trust that the empress has explained your duties here within our nation?"

"Yes.."

You replied with a hint of hesitation, savoring a sip of the soup before you. Its delightful flavors and comforting warmth brought to mind the soups your mother used to lovingly prepare for you during times of illness. The emperor appeared pleased with your response, his gaze thoughtful as he studied your face. A small, knowing smile graced his lips before he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Excellent. Then you'll be well prepared for what lies ahead," he remarked, his tone carrying a sense of reassurance or you had hope for it to be reassurance. As he reclined in his chair, the empress's smile remained fixed upon you. Despite your efforts, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of worry seep down your spine as you tried to decipher their expressions, hoping to unveil the true emotions hidden behind their masks. However, their faces revealed no clues, leaving you with a sense of uncertainty.

"We are excited to welcome you. Your duties will officially begin today."

Perhaps this new chapter wouldn't be as dreadful as you had imagined. Maybe, if you were to make a mistake, it would hasten your reunion with your family. On the other hand, serving the emperor and empress might not be so terrible.

At least, that's what you hoped.

However, a strange feeling began to form at the pit of your stomach, planting seeds of doubt within you.

[secondhand-goose]

"My Type" this "Hear me out" that--

You know what I want? I want whatever's going on with those Romance Webtoon Royal Advisors.™

Dependable, responsible, and with a loyalty to the male lead so deep that it leaves you questioning their heterosexuality.

They are out here slaying with their unnatural hair colors absolutely carrying that kingdom on their back while their boss is in the other room almost touching hands with his wife.

[jayzelnut]

@ninjinnji I'm genuinely surprised I had never drawn Ivy before !!

I'm so happy with how these all turned out 💕

[genshindsau]

Pleasure for Two, Punishment for One - Part Two

Summary: Genshin!au, Empress!au. Its finally Scaramouche's turn to be dealt with after having to watch you and Aether. Except the fact that you are not done with his punishment and instead drag it out until he is completely pliant and submissive for you.

CW: Dom!reader, sub!character, reverse harem, bondage, tentacle use, OOC, mentions of voyeurism, throatfucking, gagging, unsafe sex, cum eating, urethral insertion, edging, use of "no" but there is a safeword system so reader ignored him when he says no, one line mention of rimming, anal, aftercare.

Part One

On top of the wrinkled bed sheets laid a naked and exhausted Aether. He was covered in sweat, cum, and drool but he couldn't bring himself to care. All he could feel was a satisfying ache run throughout his body. He was still trembling and just coherent enough that he could barely make out the feeling of your hand on his back as you rubbed it. One of your fingers grazed his backside and he couldn't suppress the flinch. His hole was bright red and sore to the touch, indicating just how well used he was. Despite wanting to curl up to you, he couldn't even make himself move.

He vaguely made out the breathless chuckle that left your lips.

"Are you okay to stay there for a while?" It took a second to process you were talking to him. Fighting the sleepiness that was starting to settle over him, he wrestled with keeping his eyes open.

"I still have someone else to take care of," He managed to spot you, who was also nude, but then he was able to remember one more person that was in the room.

Huh, I forgot he was here, Aether distantly thought. In the same position as earlier sat Scaramouche. Instead of the intimating concubine Aether was used to, sat someone who looked completely debauched. His body was shaking, constant watery sobs and pleads left his lips, tears fell freely from his eyes and the most noticeable were the tentacles that continued to explore and play with his body.

You brushed hair behind Aether's ears while waiting for his answer. It seemed to take a few seconds to register that you were asking him something. However, in the end he was able to nod. Knowing he was most likely about to fall asleep you decided that you would clean him later. Once you're done with Scaramouche it would be best to just let them soak in the baths for a while.

Speaking of Scaramouche, you moved to get off the bed and then stood in front of him. In the back of his mind he was able to understand that you were in front of him, but he struggled with lifting his head.

"I - please - I can't, i cant, i cant, i cant," he repeated as his head fell forward, his forehead against your thighs. He had no strength left in his body and every nerve felt like it was on fire. With no idea how long he was forced to deal with this pleasurable bordering on painful torment while watching you and Aether, it felt like it would never end. He stopped counting after Aether came the fifth time and you the second.

"Is it hard? Does it hurt?" Your words may have been sympathetic, but your tone was anything but. There was mockery underneath your words and your hand roughly pulled his head back and off your thigh. He felt a rush of tears well up in his eyes at the rough treatment.

"I'm sor-" he voices fell off into a sob when the tentacle that was in his ass gave a sharp thrust causing his body to jerk as best as it could while still wrapped in ropes.

"Hmm? I couldn't hear you." You squatted in front of him, your hand still in his hair. He was granted another thrust, followed by another and he was hoping that maybe this time you would let him cum. However, the tentacle also resumed its place back into his urethra. Just a few thrusts would have made him cum, he knew that, and you definitely knew that based on the way you manipulate the tentacle with your magic. You were dead set on not letting him cum.

"I'm - ahh - sorry. pleaseplease." Scaramouche was beginning to let out garbled nonsense. His prostate was being hit with each thrust, but he couldn't cum. He couldn't cum. He couldn't cum. That thought brought fresh tears to his eyes.

He could feel the burning in his stomach as he was forced to linger on the edge. His cock felt like it was about to combust, all slick and red. The tentacle slithered down his urethra, refusing to let him properly cum and scaramouche just broke, gasping sobs leaving his lips as drool slipped out of his mouth and onto the floor.

His hair was let go by you and he slumped down a little bit due to the loss of tension.

"Scaramouche," he could vaguely recognize your voice through his muddled mind. "Look at me."

You were speaking, he could hear you, but he couldn't comprehend what you were saying. It wasn't until a hand gripped his chin and angled his face towards you that he was able to focus on something. The rest of the world blurred out as he focused on your face and your face alone. When you saw the glossy look in his eyes, indicating how lost in his mind he was become, you softened your tone.

"I suppose it would be too much to expect you to listen. At least not when you're as mindless as you are right now." You offered false sympathy as you lightly shook his head with your fingers that were gripping his chin.

"Y'know many people complain about the words you spew out. About how you're too rude, too condescending, too arrogant." One of your fingers traced the glossiness of his lips as you spoke before dipping into his mouth and running over his tongue, coating your fingers with his saliva. "Afterall, this is what got you in this position in the first place."

"I guess I'm going to have to make it to where you won't be able to speak for a while."

The next thing Scaramouche was able to distantly recognize was the feeling of something soft on his tongue. His tongue moved at the pressure and felt around the new intrusion in his mouth. He was rewarded with a small moan that left your lips. For the first time you placed a gentle and delicate hand on his head which caused Scaramouche to lean forward, pressing against it and seeking out for that comfort.

"ah - ack," Scaramouche was interrupted with a garbled cough as he pressed forward trying to chase the comfort of your hand on his head, unintentionally pushing your cock deeper into the tight cavern of his throat. Even with the coughing and the obvious fluttering of his throat, you refused to pull out, opting to hold him still and force him to get used to the feeling of your length down his throat.

You gave him a few seconds to try and calm down until the majority of the coughing subsided. Scaramouche squirmed, his hands aching to come and rest against you but all that did was ignite a slight burning in the skin around his wrist due to him straining against the rope.

You pulled back a fraction but still kept the head of your cock in his mouth. Scaramouche eagerly sucked in as much air as possible, his chest heaving with his deep breaths.

Deeming he had enough time to situate himself you tightened the grip in his hair, "Be good for me and maybe I'll let you come afterwards."

That was all the warning he got before you pushed his head forward and thrusted your hips as well. With the first thrust, you only fed him half of your cock before pulling back a little and thrusting once more, this time forcing it all the way down his throat. He squirmed and tried to pull back instinctively due to the pressure in his throat, but you held firm. You kept him against your pelvis, his nose grazing your lower stomach before loosening your grip in his hair, letting him pull back just enough to where he could breath.

You slowly thrusted into his mouth one more time until his lips were at your base before pulling out. You did this a few times before you finally started to speed up. Scaramouche was unable to focus on using his tongue or suctioning his lips, but you didn't seem to mind, happily fucking up into his mouth. Instead of worrying about that he just adverted his eyes up to your face and tried to focus on that - wanting to see that you were feeling pleasure from your harsh treatment. However, this was deemed nearly impossible due to the tears that were welling up and trickling down his cheeks.

Glug, glug, glug, gurgling sounds filled the room along with soft moans that left your lips. Looking down you had to still your hips to stop from coming. Scaramouches eyes were unfocused and glossy and his lower face was covered in cum, drool, snot, and saliva. You could tell by the way he stopped struggling against your hold that he had finally fallen into that submissive headspace.

The loss of fullness in his throat led to scaramouche blinking away his tears and trying to look at you, afraid that he had done something wrong. Hurriedly, he had stuck his tongue out and tried to lick around the part of your cock that remained in his mouth. To appease you he even tried to swallow more of your cock, until it once again touched the back of throat. Despite the small convulses in his body he did not try to move away.

"Fuck... you're killing me here." You had let go of the tight grip you had in his hair and instead rested your hand on top of his head. You took a few deep breaths in order to push down your arousal.

Once you calmed yourself down, you pulled your hips back a small bit before shallowing thrusting back in. You were gentler this time around, not making it to where he violently choked against you. Instead, you set a steady rhythm. With each thrust you would still yourself at the back of this throat for a few seconds to feel the convulsions of his throat. You would finally pull back once he started to turn a little red in the face. You kept this going until you felt the familiar twinge of arousal in your lower stomach.

"Shit," Your hips picked up their pace. "Be good for me and swallow."

Scaramouche flinched at the first taste that spurted onto his tongue before he eagerly swallowed it down. He struggled to swallow it all and instead some flowed out of the side of his mouth. You kept him held against your stomach before pulling back and taking yourself out of his mouth.

Scaramouche's throat was burning from the rough treatment, and he had hunched forward coughing.

It took a moment before he realized he was being moved. One moment he was situated on his knees and the next thing he knew he was face down on the ground. His muscles burned at the new position; his weight was now resting directly on his knees, and he tried to move them but was unable to do more than scooch them. He rested his cheek against the floor and shivered at the coolness which was in direct contrast to the heat that was run rampage in his body.

"haah.. plea-ase," His voice cracked when he felt your fingers replace the tentacle that was previously shoved up his ass. There wasn't as much of a stretch but the fact that you were now touching him instead of a tentacle caused his body to shake.

When you entered three fingers into him, he reflexively grinded back against them, desperately wanting to feel them hit that one spot inside him that always set his body aflame. You didn't reprimand him for that and instead let him do some of the work, opting to just curl your fingers.

"nghhahh, there, right there." he cried out, but his voice was so hoarse and choppy that you could barely make out what he was saying. Even as he kept thrusting back and getting his prostate hit, you weren't allowing him to cum. That damned tentacle that was in his urethra and the rope that was tied around his balls was constricting him. "pleasepleaseplease - out. Need it out," he wailed, and his body was trembling so violently that you were worried he would pull a muscle.

You pulled your fingers out of him and wrapped them around his thighs and gently massaged them. He whined at the loss of touch, but his body unconsciously relaxed under your fingers that were pushing into the muscle on his thighs. You kept doing that until he became pliant once more and was not at a risk of harming himself.

"Relax," you cooed, moving to grip both of his cheeks with your hands and spread them. A small chuckle passed your lips when you saw his hole gaping and fluttering.

"cant." He gasped out. "hurts... need t' cum. please plea - ahh!" A throaty scream escaped his lips when he felt your tongue lick around his rim. You moved to kiss his cheek and traveled kisses and licks up his spine until you reached his neck. Your fingers traced the intricate ropes before tugging them and forcing his upper body off the ground. You continued to pull until he was once more on sat up on his knees but now, he had his back pressed against your chest.

Your cock situated itself right in between his ass cheeks and you rutted against him. "Want to cum?" It was a teasing question.

Scaramouche weakly nodded. "please. 'm sorry, I wont - I won't" his throat was burning through his pleads and in some distant part of his mind he knew he should not be talking anymore but he couldn't bring himself to worry about it. "won't talk back, wont be rude. prom-promise."

You both knew this was lie and that in a few days' time he will be the same condescending and rude concubine he always is but right now at this moment, he completely believed what he is saying.

"Promise," you decided to play along.

"Promise," he whined out.

"Alright. You're done with your punishment. I suppose you should get your reward."

He felt the slickness of the tentacles leave his entire body. All that is left from them was a trail of wetness that left goosebumps rising in their wake. The second you pulled it out of his urethra a scream left his lips. His hips tried to buck away from the feeling but he couldn't. All those previous denied orgasms that were pushed back due to the tentacle stopping them came rushing over him tenfold. His cock spurted out load after load and it felt like a never-ending pleasure to him that was becoming painful. His body shook uncontrollably against your hold. He wasn't sure how it felt like he was still cumming, his hole gaping and spasming.

It took a while for his body to calm down and even then, he was still having shaking. One of your hands had wrapped around his waist and rested on his stomach and was rubbing small circles onto it. In his twitching, the hands behind his back had grazed your cock a few times and despite your own arousal pressing against him you were well aware that he could be too sensitive to deal with anything else.

Scaramouche had felt the twitching of your own cock against his back and fingers. Despite the oversensitivity in his body, he still craved for the closeness of you inside him. He could handle one more, he wanted to feel you inside of him this time instead of the sliminess of the tentacle.

"s'okay," he managed to whisper out. At the same time one of his hands clumsily grasped your cock. His thumb ran over the tip (or at least tried to) before struggling to position it at his entrance.

You raised an eyebrow, "You sure?"

He eagerly nodded, "please."

You positioned yourself at his entrance and was able to easily sink into him. The breath was knocked out of Scaramouche and a loud keen left his lips and his back arched. Once you were completely sheathed inside him you let out a shuddering breath as he twitched sporadically around you. You knew this would be a short round, Scaramouche would probably be able to cum one more time before his body would no longer be able to handle anything else.

You pulled out only a small amount before shallowly thrusting into him, trying not to hit his prostate just yet. With each thrust, small uh - uh - uh's passed through his lips. Even with these shallows thrust he felt his stomach tighten. His orgasm was building and embarrassingly quickly too. His crying only got louder because he knew he couldn't hang on anymore.

"c-cumming," he managed to wheeze out. His whole body became tense and he squeezed down on your own cock. You let out a groan of your own, a small orgasm wracking through your body. It wasn't overly strong but it did not bother you. Scaramouche's on the other hand was strong, too strong. His mouth fell open in a silent scream and his body had convulsed before he fell completely slack, mind falling in and out of consciousness.

He felt the tension of the rope released from his body. He was distantly aware that he was falling forward but he couldn't make his body move. He didn't hit the ground and instead fell right into your arms. He first recognized your scent and unconsciously nuzzled into your chest wanting to be surrounded by the smell. He felt a new pressure around his body but this time instead of the coarseness of rope he felt the softness of skin as you wrapped your arms around him.

You sat down on the ground and situated yourself before moving him into a more comfortable position on your lap. One hand came up to run through his tangled-up hair whilst the other took to wiping away all the dried up cum and drool. You couldn't do a perfect job with just your hand, but you managed to clear up some so that it was not sticking onto his face.

Scaramouche was letting out small puffs of air that had undertones of wheezes in them, showcasing how well used his throat was.

You should get one of the servants to make him a tea, you thought while your hand left his jaw and mindlessly went to rub his throat.

Scaramouche opened his lips but strained to say something, anything but he couldn't due to the throbbing in his throat from his crying and your treatment of it. He unconsciously squirmed away from the hand at his throat.

You were befuddled before realizing that he thought you were going to start another round since you usually place your hand on his throat during sexual encounters. Quickly moving your hand to his shoulder, your cooed at him and brought him closer to you.

"shh, it's alright you're all done." He lost the last bit of tension in his body and slumped against you. "You did so good for me." If he had the energy, he would have preened at your words but all he could managed was a shaky smile.

Neither of you moved from your position on the floor for a while. It wasn't until you felt his breath even out and his body become pliant that you decided to stand up. You kept him in your arms as you carried him to the joining bathroom. He let out small sounds at the jostling but did not open his eyes. You carefully settled him on one of the cushions set aside the tub and used magic to start the tub.

Once it was filled up and at an appropriate temperature you carefully maneuver him into the tub making sure not to aggravate any of the rope burns. You did not join him and instead, once he was settled, let go of him and went to stand up. At the loss of your touch Scaramouche couldn't help the panic that welled up inside him. His eyes snapped open and one of his hands weakly clutched onto your arm.

"Do - " He winced as the pain in his throat finally settled in. He wanted to tell you not to leave him, but he couldn't. You could see the despair in his eyes and reached out to pet his head before moving to caress his cheek.

"I have to get Aether too, lovely." Even with your reassurance he didn't want you to let go of him. He shook his head and clutch onto you tighter. He wasn't jealous at this moment but instead all he could focus on was the fact that in order for you to get Aether, you would have to leave him and that caused an unimaginable amount of panic to form inside him. He did not want to be alone when he was feeling as vulnerable as he was right now.

You let out a sigh and squatted down behind the tub and ran your hand through his hair.

"You trust me, right?" you kept your tone light as you played with strands of his hair. He had his knees curled up and was resting his head against them.

He nodded without hesitation, and you couldn't help the pride that resonated in your chest.

"Then I want you to close your eyes and stay in this position for 30 seconds alright." As you were speaking, you had let your magic cast over him and mimic an embrace. You also mimicked the feeling of your hand playing with his hair. Once you felt confident in your spell, you had slowly and quietly gone to grab Aether who was still laying on the bed. His eyes blearily blinked open when you lifted him in your arms.

"Finally done with him?" He whispered but there was no malice in his tone. He was well aware that Scaramouche had gone through a tough punishment and that he would be dealing with some discomfort for a while.

You hummed in acknowledgment as you reentered the bathroom. Scaramouche was in the same position as you left him, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

The tub was more than large enough to fit the three of you, so you had place Aether in and made sure the both of them were comfortable before joining them. You made sure to sit in between them because even in their headspaces (or rather Scaramouche's, Aether seemed more well recovered) they could spiral.

Within a few minutes of joining them, you could feel weight against one of your shoulders (Aether fell asleep first) and then on the other side of your body, Scaramouche nudged under your arm so that he could lay against your chest.

[drill-teeth-art]

EVIL SPACE WOMAN

[mydaylight]

Do you like the flowers? Yesterday I passed the greenhouse and saw them in full bloom, so I told them to send you some. I like them very much. Thank you Your Majesty.

LEGEND OF ZHEN HUAN | Episode 4

[nandivina]

Morally gray lesbians with knives?! Yes please

[atchamcrepin]

A still frame from the animatic I'm working on. The japanese text is just a lyric from the song～ 😺

[mansion-of-haunts]

figured i should put these here

[hisokamywaifu]

Consort! Denki Kaminari x Reader

~~~

"So...are you gonna fuck me or something?"

You had been relaxing in your library, rereading a book you liked in a plush armchair, when Denki wandered in.

Though he had pretended as if he hadn't come for a reason, you knew better.

But you hadn't expected...that.

You looked up at him sharply, trying to hide your surprise as he gave a barely concealed smirk.

You cleared your throat. "When I feel like it." You gave him a pointed look and he wandered away again with disappointment. (The audacity.)

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your novel.

~~~

A couple days later, you were on your way to your room, when you spotted him shuffling around the kitchen, which was empty at this time of day.

He's puttering around because he has nothing better to do, because you wouldn't take his hint when he gave it. Sure, you're the empress, but shouldn't you care about what he wanted? He knows he's being unreasonable, but he wants you. Needs you.

He's getting ready to turn and leave, to find something else to keep him occupied, when he feels your hands around his hips, grabbing him from behind.

As you grab him, you rest your head on his shoulder, tilting your chin up to whisper in his ear. "This a good time, pretty?"

He gasps at the sudden feeling of your hands on his thin waist, dragging him impossibly closer to you. Arching provacatively into you, he let out a needy whimper. "Always."

You shove him by his back to bend over the counter, and he lets out a wanton moan as he folds submissively beneath your touch.

"Slut."

He rolls his eyes, trying to get a reaction out of you. "I don't think I'm the slut when you're the one pouncing on m~" He cuts himself off as you yank his head back by his yellow hair, and he bucks his hips into the counter.

"That's just it, isn't it? You don't think. You just care about getting off. So why don't you stop being a little brat, and let me get you off like a good little whore." With that, you yank his flowing pants down, revealing no undergarments. "Pervert."

He shivers on the cold counter, feels your fleeting touches along his legs, not straying towards the front like he wanted, but to the winking hole in the back. "Wh-what~"

You shove two fingers in his mouth, pressing yourself to his back. "I don't need to hear anything from sluts. Just lie there and take it."

You don't think he's listening to you. He mindlessly sucks at your fingers, and before he can get too lost in it, you remove them and bring them to his ass. "You do have a cute butt." You mumbled to yourself, not even really conscious of saying it. "Can't wait to ruin it."

Your words become grows as your first finger breaches the ring of muscle, which is clamping around it harshly.

Though Denki is something of a whore, he hasn't really experimented with his ass much other than a finger here and there, and so the feeling of your finger probing in him is a new experience.

"Wait, I don't~" your free hand reaches up to grab his throat, and he immediately quiets down.

Your finger stretches a knuckle into him, and while it feels odd, he strangely trusts you.

You press deeper, and he wiggles at the foreign feeling. Deciding to help with the new situation, you reach to his dick with your other hand, giving it some light strokes to get it to full hardness.

He lets out some purely filthy noises, very high pitched, and you use the opportunity to get the rest of the finger into him.

Once it's in, you keep the hand on his cock still as your finger goes in and out slowly. You discreetly move it around searching for the spot that would make him see stars.

After a couple more seconds, Denki suddenly arches his back and practically melts into you.

"There's the spot." You grin, and thrust into his prostate, as he whines and raggedly pants.

You work another finger into him while he shakes on the counter, and you take the opportunity to rub at one of his nipples, hearing a little mewl come from his pink bitten lips.

Once the second finger is in him, you immediately start to drive your fingers into him, and he can't remember a time he ever felt this full. With each stroke his mind went blank, and he could feel himself sagging onto the counter with your warm presence behind him.

He was babbling mindlessly, and you could tell he was getting close.

You gave his ass a quick smack with your free hand and he jolts. "You wanna cum?"

He nods, immediately, bucking into you as if he could take your fingers even deeper, as his dick leaks onto the marble floor.

You grab his slick cock and stroke with each thrust, and it isn't long before he is crumbling into your arms, cumming with a cry of your name.

As he blinked back to reality, he could feel your fingers slipping out of him, and he felt slightly empty.

But he smiled up at you as you cleaned him up (and the kitchen because you definitely didn't want the cooks to see any leftover...residue.)

"We should do that again sometime!" He looked at you with a goofy yet endearing grin and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh don't worry, we will."

[thepenultimateword]

Love Thy Enemy Part 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

For all Callista's talk of winning Vorrin over, it was surprising that she returned to ignoring his existence. Pins and Switch even informed him that his designated visit to her chambers had been canceled for the week. Usually, Vorrin would've been thrilled, but considering the circumstances... How was he supposed to gain the empress's trust if they didn't see each other?

"Is she busy again?" Vorrin asked as he took a bite of strawberry scone. He kept his tone bland and stared with what he hoped looked like disinterest at the wall.

"I hear she's taking a trip to the border cities," Pins mumbled, sewing needle held between his lips as he turned the half-finished embroidery in his hands. "Probably takes a lot of prep work."

Vorrin had felt rather guilty about his outburst the other day, and remembering Switch's comment about waste, he'd asked the manservants if it was possible to repair the torn shirt. The short answer was no. Nothing could get the shirt exactly back to its original state. The longer answer, with more cloth and designs to hide the stitches, the outfit could be salvaged. So here the pair were, with more work thrust upon them, though Vorrin couldn't say he wasn't grateful for the company.

Vorrin set down the scone, turning full attention to the manservant. "The border cities? Why?"

"I only caught pieces from the soldiers while fetching your dinner the other night, but I think an emissary from Avarose is meeting her there."

"An emissary?"

"She has been out of the country for almost a year now. Maybe she needs an update from Prince Suthand on the state of the kingdom?"

"An update can be sent in a letter."

"You know more about politics than us," Switch said, stacking up some of the empty breakfast plates. "Why do you think she's going?"

Vorrin pondered it a moment. Callista was calculated, and she knew her hold on Totholan was tentative. She wouldn't leave the capital unless she thought it was absolutely necessary.

Perhaps she wanted to check on the strength of the border troops. But she could outsource that to a general couldn't she?" And then there was the emissary. That would be political. But why would she need a representative from her own kingdom? And why didn't they meet her here instead of the other way around?

"I don't understand anything she does," Vorrin said finally, picking back up his scone. He only managed to nibble it a little further before asking, "When will she return?"

Switch raised a brow. "You're certainly eager to see the empress again."

"I wouldn't say eager. Simply...interested."

"Well, she hasn't left yet," Pins said. "She might still come to say goodbye."

As if Vorrin was worried about not receiving a proper farewell. He was her consort, not her lover. He forced a smile anyway. "Maybe."

Pins smiled brightly back and turned the finished tunic around for him to see. "How's this?"

A spattering of golden stars and a large sun now hid the repaired tear. They glimmered against the white fabric like the celestial bodies they were imitating.

"It’s beautiful,” Vorrin said, “it’s a wonder you were hired as a manservant rather than a tailor’s apprentice.”

Pins flushed appreciatively and lowered his eyes to the ground. “I used to do the repairs to the servants' uniforms, back before I was officially hired. My mum said I had a gift. But…apprenticeships don’t pay in money, just room and board, and my family couldn’t really live on one income so…” His face fell a bit, but as he lifted his head again, it abruptly brightened. “When I was offered this position, it paid twice the amount as a regular manservant, and I still get to do sewing, so better off for me, I say.”

Vorrin fought the frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. He knew what it was like to come from humble beginnings. Living day to day on whatever scraps he could get. Going hungry. Survival topping every other thought or desire. The main reason he'd joined the King's army as a boy was for the pay. Squires received a gold piece every month, and the stipend only grew the longer he stayed alive. Not to mention the free board in the barracks. As he’d risen in the ranks, he’d created a comfortable place for himself. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he hadn't had any family to rely on him, so he’d only had to worry about himself. He could only imagine the pressure of supporting a family at such a young age.

“Is your mother in Totholan?”

“No, she stayed back home. But I send her half my earnings whenever any of the soldiers travel back to Avarose with the Empress's letters.”

“Which they skim,” Switch muttered.

“It’s fine,” Pins said, forcing one of his bright smiles, “I just think of it as a delivery fee.”

This time Vorrin did frown. “That is not fine. They recieve their own wages, they don’t need any of yours.” He doubted it was something Empress Callista would allow either. “I’ll speak to the Empress about it.”

Switch audibly choked.

Pins shot to his feet. “Oh, no! You don’t have to— It’s much too small a matter to bring so high as the Empress.”

Yes, Vorrin understood it was unconventional. King Duras would have imprisoned a servant for wasting his time with such a request, that is if he even allowed it to reach the level of audience, and with the state of the kingdom, Empress Callista probably would brush it off too, but…

“If she cares about me, she’ll care about you,” Vorrin said firmly.

“I don’t want her to think I’m complaining or gossiping about the soldiers. Especially not to you."

"Because you don't want to be blamed for my poisonous attitude toward all things Avarosian?"

Pins pressed his lips together, his lack of denial an admittance all its own.

“If it bothers you, I won’t tell her it’s you.”

"I...well..." Pins slowly folded the tunic over his arm and moved gingerly across the room to tuck it away in the wardrobe. "I guess its ok. If it comes up that is. And as long as it doesn't inconvenience her. If she seems put out, tell her to forget it. And don't make it seem too urgent." He cleared his throat and plucked out a new outfit, lithely changing the topic. "How about this?"

It was another set of robes, this one a couple layers, the bottom a silky vibrant gold and the top a poofed, gauzy white that muted the underlying fabric, almost like looking through fogged glass. Glimmering gold strings hung loosed off the sleeves, ready to hold each one in perfectly puffed sections."

Vorrin grimaced. Where did the empress even get all these clothes from? Had she sent for them as soon as she’d taken him hostage or had she planned for this ending in advance? From what he'd seen Pins and Switch wear, robes were not uncommon for Avarosian men, but the fancy ones in his wardrobe were on another level. Either high-class styles were different, or the empress had some tastes. Maybe a bit of both.

"Well, I was hoping to attend the training grounds today," Vorrin said. "That is if there is a soldier to escort me today."

One of the things he and the empress had agreed upon in their last conversation was that Vorrin should have more freedoms. The training grounds to practice his sparring and more visits into the city were at the top of his requests. Surprisingly, both had been granted, on the condition that he was watched at all times.

"Oh!" Pins put the garment set back and sifted around the wardrobe for something else. "Then this?"

The new outfit was two pieces, a bottom and a top, so that was at least closer to Vorrin's regular style.

The top was a black compressed shirt with the sleeves cut off mid-shoulder and silver-threaded embroidery stretching from the shirt's high throat to the middle of the chest, giving the appearance of a layered necklace. The bottoms...were a skirt. Blue. Long. Plain except for the embroidered hem in matching silver.

"Er...I can't exercise in that," Vorrin said. It was the more diplomatic reply.

"This is a sparring outfit," Pins said. "An expensive one, but still equipped for actual sparring."

"I don't see how I'm supposed to fight in that." Vorrin stepped closer and flicked the hem of the skirt. "It's too long. And constricting. I'm not going to be able to move without tripping, ripping it, or showing everyone everything."

"It's not a skirt if that's what you're worried about," Switch said, setting the stacked dishes on the breakfast tray. The young man was as sharp as ever. He marched up the proffered outfit and grabbed the hem by one side, pulling it up to show the wide trouser legs beneath. "The overskirt is for show. It's split so it doesn't get in the way. Think of it as robes for fighting. Most of the military has switched to more obvious trousers, but most generals still wear this style. I don't know if you've noticed."

Vorrin couldn't say that he had. He didn't really pay attention to what his opponents were wearing in battle, and since becoming Empress Callista's consort, he'd been mostly confined. He assumed he'd seen mostly low-level soldiers since then, but it was also possible he'd missed it, either being in too much of an angry fog to notice or assuming they were robes like any other.

"The outfit's fine," Vorrin said crisply.

"Good!" Pins said. "Then let's get you ready!"

"I'll send for a soldier to escort you," Switch said. A shadow of a grimace crossed his face, but just as quickly it was gone. Replaced by his usual straight expression. "It might take a little while, so I should go now."

"We can go together," Pins offered.

"No, no." Switch drew himself up proudly. "I'm fully capable of finding someone. And it will be more efficient this way."

With a short bow toward Vorrin, he was out the door.

Pins had Vorrin dressed within a half hour. The bottoms were much more comfortable than he'd expected. His hair had taken on a simple style today, tied up into a tail. However, Pins still managed to make the simplicity elegant by using a silver hair ring instead of a regular hair tie.

The bedroom door burst open. Switch stormed in red-faced and hair-mussed, slender hands barely catching the door before its handle could hit the wall.

"I found someone," he said, easing the door shut before sitting hard in one of the dining sets.

"What happened?" Vorrin and Pins said together.

"Nothing. Like I said. It just takes a while to find soldiers who aren't busy."

"Switch, you're shaking," Vorrin said, his voice falling into the firm tone of his old station.

Switch looked down at his trembling hands with a surprised expression.

Switch clenched them. "I'm not scared or anything. I'm just mad."

"What happened?" Vorrin pressed again, this time summoning the authority Switch responded to.

"It's just soldiers being soldiers," the manservant spat. "Being crass and difficult and idiotic as usual. I swear, this is why I dropped out of the military. They're all so stupid. But of course, they can't let it go. I'm a traitor because I didn't fight in the war and even more so because I serve a Totholi consort." Switch's tone grew sharp and sarcastic. "Apparently, it's very unpatriotic of me to be at the beck and call of a Totholi general. Oh, and I think I'm better than them because of my cushy safe job and better pay and face-to-face meetings with the Empress."

At that last part, Switch let out a little gasp and pinned his lips tightly shut.

Another time, Vorrin would have seized that slip-up. He knew that Empress Callista was getting information on his behavior from someone. His manservants had been the most likely suspects, and this confirmed it. However, this was not the time.

"I didn't know you were military," Vorrin said instead.

"Was." Switch looked steadily at the ground a couple feet ahead, clenching his fists harder so the knuckles turned white. Vorrin knew that look. He kept dry anger at the forefront of his emotions, but he was probably fighting off tears. "I only squired for a year. I hate soldiers."

"Is that why you sometimes have a hard time with me?"

Switch flushed a little and a long pause stretched over the room. "Maybe. I don't know. I guess sometimes I see the resemblance. But you're not like them. I know that. Even if you are aggravating." He cleared his throat abruptly. "Sorry."

"Did the oh-so-proper and strict Switch make a joke?" Vorrin said with a mock gasp.

Switch rolled his eyes, but a small smile crept up his face. "Don't tell anyone."

"They're just being jerks because they're jealous," Pins piped in.

Vorrin nodded. "As a once stupid soldier, I have to agree. For men like them, there is a pecking order, and they're worried you're on top. And they hate that, so they're trying to convince you that you're not."

"But I don't want to be a part of their stupid pecking order at all," Switch said.

“Then you need to find the biggest instigator and give them a good punch in the nose.”

“You are a soldier.”

Vorrin shrugged. “It’ll at least show them you’re not going to take their rubbish.”

“But it’s so unrefined…”

“And they are? They’re a bunch of insecure bottom feeders with too much space in their skulls. I’m telling you, the only thing people like that respect is brute force.”

“I’m really beginning to doubt your strategic ability as Totholan’s best general.”

Vorrin chuckled. “Well, I can always punch one for you. I doubt they’re allowed to hit me back.”

Switch let out a long sigh, though it wasn’t entirely exasperated. He scrubbed his tearless face. "I’ll think about it. Pretty sure letting the royal consort get into fights isn’t a much better look. Anyway, the escort is waiting outside when you're ready."

Vorrin stood, stretching his arms over his head. “Time for me to go then. Guess I better show this little guppy who’s really in charge. ”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t worry, Switch. I know how to handle grunts.”

“Seriously don’t.”

Vorrin only grinned, flexing one of his bare arms before sweeping out the door.

As he stepped out into the hall, the soldier leaning against the outside wall stood up straight. He was about what Vorrin had expected: young, a little below average height, and built just enough to have real muscle but still feel uncomfortable in his own skin. Vorrin could see the inexperience in his shifting posture.

“Good morning, Royal Consort,” the soldier said offering a short bow. Obviously, his feelings on a Totholi consort were much different when face-to-face with him. “My name is Raoden. I’ll be escorting you.”

“Yeah, I’m not remembering that,” Vorrin said, stepping past the man without a second glance and starting toward the training ground. “How about I call you Button?”

“Well, er…”

“Perfect. Come on."

The soldier scrambled after him, needing to use his full stride to keep pace at Vorrin's side. As they reached the end of the hall, he angled toward the right, the direction to the main entrance of the arena.

Vorrin turned left.

"Um, I think the training grounds are--"

"I know how to get there," Vorrin said.

He strode the full length of the hall, turning left and then left again. He barely glanced at the other soldiers and servants they passed along the way, only stopping when he reached a worn, narrow door the same grey as the stone around it.

"Royal Consort--"

Vorrin was already pushing inside.

"Hello, boys!"

The whole room scrambled to their feet. A couple of men fell off their beds. One hit his head on the bunk above him as he rushed to stand.

“So this is where you all go to slack off.”

One of the soldiers without his shirt or shoes squirmed. “We’re off duty, your…Royal Consort…sir.”

“Of course. Don't mind me.” He mosied down the aisle, looking idly around with each step, gaze skimming past the soldiers enough that they dropped their heads to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted a look at my old quarters before Button here escorts me to the armory. Well, close enough. These were the squire quarters. You're all full-fledged soldiers, aren't you?"

"Er...most of us," Button interceded from behind. When Vorrin glanced back at him, the man stood by the entrance, looking desperate to lead Vorrin back out. "Military rankings work differently in Avarose. Um...should we perhaps..."

"Really? That's interesting." Vorrin sat himself down on one of the now-empty bunks. He crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back on one hand. "How is it done in Avarose?"

Button looked around the room, but no one else spoke up. "Royal Consort Vorrin, I really think..."

Vorrin raised his brows. "Yes?"

"Uh...well, in Totholan there are three titled ranks, right? Page, squire, and knight? Though of course some knights can reach the higher rank of Knight General or the highest rank, like yourself, Grand Master."

Vorrin shook his head. "King Duras was the Grand Master. I'm just a general."

Button blinked and glanced toward his comrades and back. "Respectfully, sir...that wasn't what we were told in our briefing. That's why the Empress specifically--" He abruptly cut off and cleared his throat. "My point was Totholi military is more simplistic."

One of the soldiers snickered but stopped before Vorrin could identify who it was.

"Whereas Avarosian military is sort of...complicated."

Vorrin leaned his chin into his hand. "Oh?"

"There are ranks within ranks. Sort of like your knights, but with much more variety." He lifted one end of the wide scarlet sash wrapped around his middle. Looking at the colors may help. The lowest rank is yellow. Children in training wear the palest shade and it deepens as they move up. Green is the next rank, usually utilized as messengers or apprentices to higher-ranked soldiers. Blue is reserved for military medics. Red is for ordained soldiers, again the palest shades are always reserved for those with the least experience. Generals wear black. The sovereign wears white. But only on the battlefield.

Vorrin closed his eyes a moment, tentatively summoning a memory. He could still picture that day perfectly. Empress Callista standing over him, half of her hair escaped from its braid, the long tails of her "white" sash whipping in the wind. In reality, it had only been white in small patches; the majority of it was dyed red with blood. The point of her blade pressed carefully into his throat. He'd swallowed. She'd grinned.

Vorrin's eyes shot back open. He pushed himself back to his feet, shoving the memory's emotions deep down and instead surveying the soldiers once again.

"It seems every one of you carries a red sash. I'm surprised."

"Sir?"

"It took thirty minutes for my manservant to acquire one of you. You do realize that a request from my servants is a request from me?"

Button bowed his head. "Yes, Royal Consort."

"Tell me, how long did you spend arguing, drawing straws, and over me instead of doing your duty."

Button sank so far between his shoulders he resembled a turtle. "Too long, Royal Consort."

A part of Vorrin wanted to punish them further for Switch's sake. But Button had admitted his fault without excuse. Vorrin had to give the man credit for that. Many of the men looked equally chastened. No need to press further when a reprimand was being received.

"I suggest being a little quicker next time," he finished.

"Yes, Royal--"

"You're not in charge of us, Tolothi," another soldier interrupted. The man was all wiry muscle and unruly hair. Vorrin noted that his sash was vermillion whereas many of the other's were crimson.

Vorrin stalked up to the man, gazing down at him from under half-lowered lids. "Am I not?"

"You're a pet."

"Argin," one of the crimson soldiers hissed warningly.

"A dog may be pampered and protected," Argin continued, meeting Vorrin's eyes. " but that doesn't make it less a dog. And a dog holds no authority no matter who it belongs to."

Vorrin only smiled. "You sleep in a bunk bed. I sleep beside the Empress. Maybe I am a dog, but between the two of us, I wonder who has more authority. I suppose if you're really concerned I could ask the Empress what she thinks."

Argin paled a fraction and clenched his teeth hard enough to crack. He ducked away from Vorrin's gaze. "Aren't you supposed to be practicing sparring or something?"

"You're right. Thank you, Kitty."

The man flushed equal parts embarrassment and anger.

"Come along, Raoden."

Button looked a little shocked at the usage of his real name, but he quickly fell in step, following Vorrin through the door at the back of the room into another room of bunks, this one empty. The Knights' old quarters. They passed rows and rows of beds before exiting another door into the armory.

Unlike the barracks, this room had been completely reorganized. Probably so it could hold all the weapons that the Avarosian army had brought with them.

Vorrin ran his hand down the row of spears lined along the wall. "Any limits on which weapons I'm allowed to use?"

"I don't think Empress Callista established a rule." Button looked around the room nervously. "Maybe nothing too sharp?"

Vorrin tsked. "Do you have so little faith in yourself that I need a handicap?"

"When it comes to you, sir, yes."

"Really? You don't think you could stop me if I was armed? A little concerned for the person who is supposed to keep me from escaping.

Button swallowed. "I don't know, sir. But I know it took the Empress to defeat you, and I couldn't win against the Empress." He gathered himself taller. "However, Royal Consort, I don't think you plan on running. Even if I fell, there are at least a hundred guards between here and the end of the palace grounds. They would catch you immediately."

Button's tone begged Vorrin not to try anything. He almost seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as Vorrin. He was right though. Vorrin suspected that having a watch was more about preventing him from stealing weapons than stopping an escape attempt.

"I'll stick with the quarterstaff then," Vorrin said, plucking the long wooden pole off the wall. "I only want to practice some movements today anyway."

Button nodded, relieved, and they exited the armory into the training grounds. A light breeze wafted the smell of the dusty earth, and the musty hay of the training dummies to his nose. Vorrin closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scents. It had been a long time.

The quarterstaff felt a little strange in his hands. Though his hands instinctively gripped the right places, the weapon no longer fit the same against his too-smooth palms.

Vorrin spun the staff a couple times before trying a stab. He stumbled a little and gritted his teeth. He'd overextended.

His immediate reaction was a surge of rage, but he exhaled the emotion slowly. This is fine. Just go back to the basics.

He fell into a defensive stance. Block, parry, stab. Block, parry, stab. He moved slowly, perfecting each movement as he went. After about four times, he picked up speed, throwing in a few dodging movements and thrusting out the pole in low and high attacks.

Button yawned from the sidelines.

Vorrin half-wanted to ask the guard to spar with him, but he doubted that was allowed. Maybe he should asked for two guards next time, one to spar with and another to watch him. Better yet, maybe he could begin bargaining for the release of his soldiers. Not at all at once, but one or two at a time. He missed their familiar company. Not to mention, he’d need them if this uprising was going to work.

Having enough of the repetitive movements, Vorrin imagined an invisible enemy before him. He’d done this all the time as a boy when the other pages refused to be his sparring partner. Having Captain Kenric for a mentor had remedied that, but he’d still found solace in solo sparring once in a while.

He lowered into a defensive stance, holding the quarterstaff diagonal from his body. He circled slowly, searching for weak spots, knowing his enemy was doing the same. Abruptly, he thrust the staff forward. The enemy dodged, swinging back at him violently. He barely stepped back in time, throwing the staff sideways to block the blow. He gritted his teeth and widened his stance further against the imaginary weight. He shoved forward hard, knocking the figment backward. He stalked forward, raising his elbows in preparation for the finishing jab. He thrust the weapon forward, and...

A very visible, very real sword collided with the end of his staff.

Vorrin inhaled sharply, retreating back a couple steps and instinctively throwing out his quarterstaff in front of him. It took a couple moments for him to make sense of the red-and-gold-clad figure in front of him.

Empress Callista glanced at the weapon then casually back to his face with a widening grin. She slid her sword back into its sheath. “Hello, dear."

Vorrin exhaled slowly, doing his best to hide the tension ebbing from his muscles. He'd felt like a hair-trigger ready to fire. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't visit my consort? you weren't in your quarters; I was told I could find you here." Her eyes roved back to the weapon. "It's been a while since I've seen you in action. Serious as ever I see."

Vorrin furrowed his brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Some people spar for fun, you know. But you have that same look you have in battle. Fighting isn't a game to you, is it?"

Where did she get off acting like she knew anything about him?

"I spar for fun," he said a little sharper than intended. "But there's nothing fun about swinging a stick around by yourself. Besides, if I'm going to regain all my skills, I can't afford to be lax."

Empress Callista let out a little amused breath. "Well then, we'll need to spar together sometime."

Vorrin's face warmed. "I wasn't implying that I wanted--"

"I like the outfit," she interrupted. "Very classic."

“Well, it was in my wardrobe.”

Empress Callista gasped in mock offense. “Are you suggesting that I gave you those clothes just because I wanted to see them on you?”

“Is that not true?”

“Well, maybe.” She winked, her smile landing somewhere firmly between flirtatious and wicked. However, the sly curve quickly straightened into a more serious expression. “I didn’t know what you looked like until the first time we faced each other in battle. I had no idea what would suit you, so we brought lots.”

“You didn’t think we had clothes here?” Vorrin said.

“Dressing you in our styles was intentional."

"And now?"

"It still is. But your comfort is also important, so we'll find a compromise."

Vorrin let the butt of the quarterstaff rest against the ground. He leaned into it like a walking stick. "Dressing me like an Avarosian isn't going to win over the people. They're just going to be mad that I'm betraying our culture."

"Maybe. But it does show them who you belong to." Her gaze darkened. "And it's not just for your people. Mine need reminders too."

Vorrin's insides went cold. Empress Callista was so confident, so domineering in every action and word, he'd never considered that her people might have as many disagreements with this plan as he did. He was safe...wasn't he?"

"Anyway, darling," she said, shattering the frozen feeling encasing him, "as much as I love our little tiffs, I came to wish you farewell. I'm heading to the border this afternoon."

Vorrin remembered what Pins had said about the Empress saying goodbye. He sincerely hoped that neither manservant had shared his interest in her departure. "You don't need to do that. My servants would have told me."

"Ah. Of course." She cleared her throat and gathered herself up a little straighter. "It's a two-week trip--5 days to the border and another 5 back. I would have felt strange saying nothing at all."

Vorrin didn't quite know how to respond, so he stayed silent.

The empress cleared her throat again. Wait a minute. Did she actually feel awkward right now?

“Is there anything you need before I go?” she said

"I need your soldiers to stop terrorizing my manservants."

The empress's forehead furrowed. Not confusion, or doubt. More...disciplinary. The look of a parent when they're told their child has been caught teaching curse words.

"Explain."

"Pins gets his wages partially stolen whenever he sends money back home to his mother. And Switch gets harassed when he makes requests on my behalf. It has to do with serving a Totholi, which, I would like to remind them, is literally his job."

Empress Callista raised her brows. "Switch and Pins?"

"That's what I call them."

She didn't push it further.

Vorrin continued on. "They're in positions of power and servants to the Empire. They're abusing those positions for personal gain. If it were my men they'd be cleaning everyone's armor for the next week. Or be working directly with me until they wised up."

Vorrin caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps his voice had risen too loud because Button shifted uncomfortably from his post at the arena's edge. His eyes flicked their way, briefly connecting with Vorrin's. The young man's shoulders leaped a little, and he hastily averted his gaze to the empty space ahead of him.

The young man had been properly chastened earlier, but Vorrin wanted him to bring this information back to the others.

"They can't be allowed to act this way, can they?" he said, letting his anger raise his voice even louder.

"No," the empress said firmly. "Their behavior is unacceptable. Unfortunately, I don't have control of every action the people in my employ make. However, I will be alerting my generals and captains of the issue. They should provide some correction. Let me know if it continues."

Vorrin nodded. Despite the many things that bothered him about the empress, the one thing he could count on was that she was fair. King Duras had allowed, even encouraged, a toxic dynamic in his army. One where power and physical strength reigned as dictators. It had taken a long while for Vorrin to clean up once he became Knight General, so he couldn't help but appreciate the empress's standards.

She tipped her head to catch his gaze. "I assure you, Vorrin. The trust I have in my army is critical to me. I allow error, and I allow redemption, but those I deem untrustworthy have no place with me.

"I know. Thank you." The words came out before Vorrin knew what he was saying. To his surprise, he actually meant them.

"Anyway," he said, diverting the attention from his last words. "Why are you going to the border?"

Empress Callista smiled thinly. "There's confidential information I don't want to be written in a letter. At least not one that passes many hands. Not only that, but I'm going to be surveying the area for construction."

"Construction?"

"For the new capital. With the kingdoms merging, I can't stay here. Avarose would be outraged. But I can't return as if nothing happened either, or I risk losing my foothold. We need a neutralized city equally distant between both locations."

"Idosa won't be the capital anymore?" Vorrin didn't know why he hadn't thought about that sooner. Technically, Idosa had ceased being the capital the moment Empress Callista won the war. Yet, everything remained so much the same, the castle, the stationing of the guard, the mannerisms of the city... He'd never imagined this type of reform.

"Don't act so sullen. This will be a massive change for all of us. Streles has been the Avarosian capital for centuries. I'm anticipating a heated argument with every noble and advisor I have over the next few months."

"And me?"

It wasn't a very articulate question, but the empress seemed to understand.

"You'll come with me, of course. Not only to the new capital but to Avarose as well. The new city will take time to build, so we may travel back and forth for some time."

"I could stay here." That was something consorts did, right? Have their own homes? At least, King Duras had gifted his mistresses residences within and without the city. Then again, many of them were not official consorts. Still, it wasn't as if Callista needed him outside Idosa. If she gave him this place, he could fix it. It wouldn't be exactly as it was, but it could be close.

Even as he tried to convince himself of nobler intentions, the truth gnawed at him. He was scared. Outside of battle and expeditions for the King, he'd never lived anywhere else. He'd grown up here. He'd become something here.

Empress Callista shook her head, a little sympathy peeking through her steady expression. "You're my token. A representation of our countries' union. You'll always be with me."

Always?

Vorrin's lungs suddenly felt tight. Like he'd been shoved into a space--a cage--too tight for his body.

The empress's hands found his face, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs. "It's alright, love. I will take care of you."

As if that was what worried him. Like he was a child who needed consoling about moving away from his friends. As if this was just about him and not everyone in Idosa--no Tothalan! And him a helpless bird with clipped wings.

No. No, don't think about that.

He released a shuddering breath.

He could stop this. None of this had to happen if he completed his mission. Calm. Calm. He just had to endure a while.

Vorrin stepped back out of her reach and looked down at her gold-button travel boots.

"Good luck, on your journey."

Empress Callista's hands dropped to her side, but she stepped forward, regaining the ground between them. "If you need anything, if you have any trouble, send for me. I'll return."

"Ah, so you expect trouble," Vorrin joked, not quite able to summon the humor into his smile.

She gently took his chin, raising his face to her eyes before withdrawing again. Her eyes appeared almost molten in the sunlight.

"I will be back before you know it."

Vorrin wasn't sure if that was meant as a comfort or a warning, maybe both. It made him feel strange.

He took two long steps back this time, properly distancing himself.

"Well, goodbye then. Bring me back something nice." With that, he turned his back on her, striding back to Button. "I'd like to go back to my room now."

Vorrin allowed the soldier to lead him through the proper exit this time. As they left, he felt the empress's eyes following him.

He did not look back.

Taglist:

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[presiding]

revenge solves everything.

by @lexsnotdead commissioned for swan song, in which daud is haunted by regrets and jessamine kaldwin.

[widowkills]

富察·容音 Fuca Rongyin from 延禧攻略 The Story of Yanxi Palace (2018)

TV APPRECIATION WEEK 2024 — free choice: favourite chinese period drama character

[monstatron]

THE QUEEN OF THE EVENT HORIZON

dolvaxath is the embodiment of dark energy itself. she will stop at nothing to obtain the energy that she craves, once being a mortal creature, now turned into a cosmic goddess 👁️

sketch under cut!