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#day 25: royalty
artisticflutter · 2 years
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AU August - Day Twenty-Five and Six: Royalty and Spies
Series: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: T Genre: Suspense, Romance Pairing(s): Adrinette Summary: Under orders of his father, he managed to place himself in service to the Princess. However, he doesn’t hate it - in fact, he wonders about defying his original orders. Warning: Not beta’d.
Adrien’s father always told him stories about the royal family while he was growing up; how they were improper, how they didn’t care for the people, and how the kingdom suffered. It was only after he grew older and managed to get a position within the castle - at the Princess’s side no less - that he began to learn that perhaps his father was wrong.
The King and Queen were warm and welcoming, and tended to always be smiling. People were their priority and did their best to see everyone was fed and housed, and could live their lives with ease. They saw to their people’s needs; they listened when their people spoke of trouble and woe.
Those they didn’t listen to were often the noble lords and ladies who usually seemed to complain about not having enough coin in their coffers or desiring some expensive and unneeded location solely for themselves - a waste of land and resources. It was almost embarrassing to see his father silently among them, but he had an appearance to maintain.
Adrien - as ordered by his father - was supposed to be within the castle, finding any secrets that might discredit the royal family and give the kingdom reason to overthrow them potentially.
However, that was five years ago, and besides Princess Marinette maybe still needing to work on public speaking and subtly, there was no real fault. She was so different from the noble ladies he’d often met with and had to be polite to; they who wanted to be royalty but could never act like it. They saw only the coin and not the true responsibility that came with it - the one which Marinette seemed to fret over every other day besides her private lessons and schedule. It was his duty to keep her punctual and mentally prepare her for the tasks ahead, one of which was to make sure she was calm and happy because she always presented herself the best then.
If only he could always be by her side, but his father - he could feel his ever-looming presence.
What should he do?
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June of Doom Day 9, Day 12, Day 25
“I made a mistake.” | “I can’t stand seeing you like this.” | Guilt
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Contains: royal whump, lady whump + dudewhump, restraints, gagged/muzzled, death mention, grief, collar (implied), threats
WC: 740
One grievous mistake
“Would you like to see your sister?”
The seer nodded, clenching his jaw around the bit between his teeth. How humiliating it would be to have her see him like this: weak, overpowered, bound, reduced to such a pathetic state. But his pride withered. Stronger, much stronger, was the need to know she was alive.
The usurper smirked and departed without another word, though it seemed he did not tread far. His voice, full of harsh, throaty notes that bespoke a deeper darkness than his cold grey eyes conveyed, drifted in through the open door as he gave orders to the guards outside: “Bring the girl.”
The girl. Not the princess, not Her Highness. Her title gone, sundered and burned on the pyre of their old life. Along with their family. Along with . . . everything.
The girl—his sister—the only family he had left.
The grief struck him so suddenly and with such violence, he gagged on a wave of nausea and convulsed in panic that he would die after all, choking to death on his own despair. Dead. They were dead. His mother, his father, his brother, who had still been round-faced and bright-eyed with youth. Tenacious and wild, outspoken and courageous.
And dead.
Yet he, a crown prince deserving of no crown and nobody’s veneration, lived. Why? What had stayed the usurper’s hand, stopped that blade from spilling his blood, too? A stroke of cruel mischance? An unhappy, wretched mistake?
It was clear, all too clear: his whole life had been one grievous mistake.
What if . . .
“Now. Hold still.” The usurper reappeared suddenly, clutching something in his hand. The seer shrank away, but where he could go? Nowhere.
Something pressed against his neck, snug and cold. The seer went rigid, certain he was about to be strangled, but the pressure did not tighten.
“There.”
No yanking, no choking, and no explanation. Whatever the prince had hung around his neck, it caused no further pain, but its purpose remained a mystery.
“What is this?” the seer demanded, but if the prince understood the garbled question, he did not deign to answer.
At that moment, rapid footsteps caught his attention, pattering down what sounded to be an echoing stone staircase, then over the dungeon floor.
“Let me in to see him, please!”
His sister’s voice gasped through the rank, rancid air. He straightened, dizzy with relief—and with concern.
She burst through the door.
A disgruntled-looking guard followed her, clinging tightly to the tail of a rope whose other end was wrapped around her wrists. She strained, trying to reach the seer, as he did the same in an effort to reach her, shouting uselessly into the muzzle.
“Let her go, you bastard!”
She seemed, as far as he could tell, unharmed: a faint crimson stained marred her throat, as if blood had dried there and then been weakly washed away, and she still wore her nightclothes, diaphanous and revealing to her captors in a way that made his stomach turn. If she realized or was bothered, though, she hid it well.
“Please,” she said, her eyes wide and desperate as she pleaded with the usurper, “untie me, let me go to him. Look at him—what have you—”
The prince tutted, grabbing her arm and wrenching her toward him. As the soldier released the end of the rope, the prince lifted her bound hands as if to inspect them. “What’s this, now? Disgraceful. What did you do?”
“Nothing,” she said, pale as her nightgown, “nothing, I just—”
“She was fussing with the window when we went to get her,” said the soldier, cutting her off. “Trying to get it open. Looking for a way out.”
“Is that so?”
His sister didn’t answer, instead stealing a glance away to meet her brother’s gaze.
Quick as lightning, the usurper slapped her.
She cried out, her head whipping sideways, and the seer roared. Neither protest changed a thing.
“I asked you a question. Is it true? Were you trying to open your window?”
“Yes, but—”
Once again, the soldier spoke over her, letting her protest crumble into defeated silence. “Leave to speak, Your Highness?”
The usurper smirked. “Granted.”
“This one will turn on you, my lord. On us all.” The soldier fingered his sword, eyeing the two former royals with distaste. “She isn’t worth the trouble she’ll cause. Let me kill her for you. Let me kill them both.”
June of Doom Masterlist
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@juneofdoom
All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.
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sleepy-star-10 · 1 month
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25 Days of Agere Moodboards :3
Day Twenty One - Royalty (or Knight/Fantasy) Aesthetic
This ended up not being v agere but I tried!
ᯓ★ SFW Interaction only please!
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paopu-kiddo · 1 month
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25 days of agree moodboards: 21. Knight/royalty themed
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⚔️👑⛓️🛡️
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moths-wonderland · 2 years
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Day 21: Royalty (or Knight/Fantasy) Aesthetic 
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blindecho6 · 10 months
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Favourite pet among royal families, because horn on it's head look like a crown and color of it's wings and tail makes it looke like it's wearing a robe
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clipartpro · 2 years
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Merry Christmas is just around the corner. Excited to get a gift from Santa Claus this year!  
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solecize · 4 months
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  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.
despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jungkook x reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. swearing 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.  inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up.
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part one: the storm, the envelope and the granddaughter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ next. masterlist
i. the storm
  for the first time in a long time, your eyes flutter open to the golden curtains of the sun and not the blaring noise of a royalty-free iphone alarm. the rays are harsh and welcoming all at once, as you blink away the stinging sensation and adjust to the muddy path ahead. there was no mistake about it, the town withstood an unforgiving storm last night. however, mud coating the wheels of your bus seemed to be the only indication, as you became distracted with the kiss of summer from the skies above and the clear cerulean painted across cotton candy clouds. 
  memories of amber valley became bygone over the years, as memories always do. but, amber valley seemed to be a long lost chase you haven’t won in years and the older you became, the town disappeared entirely. it was like the smell of your favourite scented markers and the feeling rumbling at the pit of your stomach on the first day of school - nothing but faint ideas from your childhood. 
  “we’re not going to visit grandpa this summer?”
  at age twelve, you couldn’t fathom missing out on the midsummer festival or being away from your horse, marshmallow. for that age, absolutely everything felt like the end of the world, whether it was missing an episode of your favourite show or not getting an invite to a classmate’s sleepover. it was a little different for you, though, as you looked at your dad’s dull eyes. they’d been dull since the divorce went through that february. they never shone since and that’s how you knew things weren’t going to be the same.
  he shook his head at you, but never met your eyes. “no, i’m sorry. he’s coming up for to the city at the end of july, though - “ it would be later in life, precisely at age 25 and months removed from your grandfather’s funeral, when you would learn that he only began coming up to the city to regularly see a hepatologist, “ - so you can see him on your birthday.”
  you did, in fact, see grandpa for your birthday and for the rest of the years to come. he laughed with his whole body and his smile never failed to reach his eyes when he gave you updates on the farm and amber valley. grandpa did his best, but time passing came with you losing your bright eyes whenever he spoke fondly of his town. it was inevitable, when the big city enveloped your teenage self and you became more concerned with interests that come with the turn of youth - clothes, parties and boys.
  now, there was absolutely nothing wrong with any of those ideas. you stood by this at heart, embracing femininity and defending it alongside your love for science and life. you grew up and began wearing high heels to dates, to university lectures and finally, to your 9-5 on the busiest corner of your city’s financial district. you had long outgrown your riding boots, likely tucked away at the back of your closet in your studio apartment. you began just politely smiling and nodding when your grandfather shared local amber valley gossip about individuals who were just names to you now, also tucked away at the back of your mind.
  even though you eventually grew past the age where you needed your parents’ permission to make the trek over to amber valley, past the period of time where your mother refused to speak to your father to coordinate your trip to see your grandfather, the idea of returning to the valley never crossed your mind. like summer camp, it was something you thought you didn’t need anymore and preferred spending your school-less months with your friends in your hometown, working away at your first part-time job and getting your first ever drivers’ license. a seventeen year old city girl wouldn’t want to waste her summer at her grandfather’s old farm.
  “mrs. oh’s husband just left the valley for his deployment overseas. may god watch over that family.” it was one of the last times you saw grandpa, late on christmas eve when everyone else went to bed. your mom, her new husband and your little sister had bade their goodnight’s by 10pm and left the two of you sipping honey lemon tea by the fireplace. 
  your mom’s new husband made a lot of money. that was one of the first things you noticed about him and it was so different from the two bedroom inner city apartment you were raised in. it was certainly different from your grandpa’s farmhouse, where the television only got three channels and all of the windows never fully opened because they would fall apart entirely if you pulled too far. you and your grandpa mused these thoughts on their white leather couch, when the conversation slowly moved back to how the old farm was going.
  you tried to sound interested. “oh really?” the reality was you couldn’t remember if the oh family was the one that ran the general store or the one couple who seemed to be constantly fighting, on the verge of divorce.
  grandpa grunted in response. “mhm. thankfully, they have jungkook helping out around the store. ah, the wasted potential with that boy, but such a kind heart.”
  “jungkook..?”
  “oh, you remember him! the two of you would always bike by the beach,” he said. “i’ll never forget, you two would always come back and show me the seashells you collected that day. always made a competition out of everything.”
  he chuckled and you joined in, hiding the despondence for being unable to recall. grandpa didn’t seem to notice, though, continuing to discuss amber valley. cranberries and pumpkins were the strongest crops of the fall, mayor kim was re-elected for a third time and something about the town soon getting their first chain convenience store since amber valley’s founding. then, grandpa’s face lost his smile and a serious expression formed on his ageing features. he asked you about your job and how life was for you.
  by now, you’re 22 and working an entry-level position with nothing but a bachelor’s in your pocket and a hunger to climb the corporate ranks. like any fresh college graduate, there was no meaning to life if it weren’t for paying overpriced rent, mimosa sundays, dating apps, and maybe remembering to go to the gym every now and then. the life you lived was loud from city traffic and heavy from looming student debt. 
  “my job is..okay. i’m just starting out and i’m really just trying to do my best,” you replied.
  grandpa, still with a serious look, placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it gets stressful, doesn’t it?”
  you opened your mouth to respond again, but failed to find your voice this time. your stress was found in a growing caffeine addiction and getting too tired to give your parents a call on the weekends. adulthood was everything you expected and nothing you expected. you secured a job that you dedicated four years of studies to and just like that, was pushed into a world of hustle and bustle and nothing in between. once this realization settled, you tried to hide it by cracking a faint smile. grandpa saw through it, though - he always did. 
  “well, darling, if it ever does get too stressful..” you became confused when grandpa reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope. he handed it to you and you turned it over, finding no writing other than your name in your grandfather’s decorative penmanship.
  you asked, “what is this, grandpa?”
  he finally smiled again, but shook his head. “a gift. it’s yours for when you find that you need a break from the challenges of life.”
  grandpa only gave gifts from the heart. only, this time, you wouldn’t know that he was giving you his entire heart and soul. you had taken this envelope and slid it in the drawer of your desk at home, where you tirelessly worked after hours, even after returning from the office. it was hidden away, but always poked your curiosity at the back of your mind. however, you restrained from opening it, even when it eventually became one of the last things you had from grandpa. 
  ii. the envelope
the only time you took the pristine envelope out of your desk was on the day of his funeral. 
  it was no surprise that grandpa wanted to be buried in amber valley, his home for over fifty years and his birthplace. it was once your heart’s home, too, once upon a time when you were a child skipping rocks by the town river and rode your horse through mustard-hued sunflower fields. for that, you were nervous to return and confront the realities of your coming of age in the face of a town that only lived in your memories, sickeningly reminding you of the years that have gone past.
  wedged between your mother and father who had only began speaking to one another as of three years ago, you stared blankly at the onyx coffin that, in about 20 seconds, was gone from your sight and lowered into the ground. it happened all too quick. you clenched your arm tighter, squeezing the envelope tucked underneath and protecting it from the rain. your very last summer in the valley was marked by constant rain and wind and once again, you greet the town amidst storms.
  the drive was quick, having gone directly to service after the three hour drive from the city. you couldn’t make much of the town through the gloom and suddenly, the valley was so much colder than you remember. like your being since your grandfather’s passing, it lost its colour. it was unwelcoming and felt like a punishment for your neglect over the years. amber valley was unforgiving as much as it was perfection. 
  you couldn’t make out much of the attendees through the gloom, either. many of them appeared absolutely devastated, sobbing and cold-faced at the goodbye of a beloved neighbour. your grandfather was always well-liked amongst the townspeople, helping out his friends with mundane tasks whenever he had free time away from the farm and shared his warm personality at community events. this was affirmed through the stories that were shared about him at the service, recognizable for his distinct good heart, but seemed so far away for you, having detached yourself from amber valley.
  “oh, an unfamiliar face! what’s your name, dear?” a man around your father’s age with salt and pepper hair was handing out hor d'oeuvres at the post-service gathering in the church basement. he seemed to be the most upbeat one in the room - though, it wasn’t saying much, considering the occasion.
  you told him your name, while looking around for either one of your parents. being in a room of strangers wasn’t your favourite activity, especially following a funeral. the last thing you wanted to do was socialize, feeling like you weren’t even in your own body all day. while you were saddened and to an extent, numb, you knew your grandfather’s passing was coming up. his illness was going to catch up to him and you spent months mentally preparing yourself for the day you would have to say goodbye. despite not being surprised, your grief was accompanied by the painful nostalgia of the town that raised you in the summertime.
  the man looked at you, appearing to search your face for something. “you’re the old man’s granddaughter? bunny?”
  the nickname almost made you flinch, having not heard it in so long that you were surprised you recognized it. you began searching the man’s face, too, also looking for some signs of familiarity. for so many years of your childhood, you were almost exclusively called this nickname by adults and friends alike.
  there wasn’t room for a response when the man pulled over another individual by his sleeve, merely attempting to walk by in peace. this one was a man closer to your age and you were too distracted by the glisten of his facial piercings to scan for recognition. the second thing you noticed the adornment of tattoos peeked from below his sleeve and trailed onto his hands. the third and final thing you noticed about him was how gentle his hands were. this was realized because the sight of this man made you drop whatever was in your own hands in surprise.
  the only thing you were holding was your grandfather’s envelope, no longer pristine and stained with a few raindrops. you noticed that you had been clutching onto this keepsake the entire service. you bent down to reach for it, when he also attempted to make the save for you. your hands brushed and you looked up at his eyes, suddenly taken away by confusion.
  “jungkook, you remember bunny?” 
  you forgot the older man was in your presence, as he was the one who pulled jungkook over in the first place. jungkook. this was the little boy you spent hours running around with all those years ago. although you seemed to forget when your grandfather had last brought him up, those moments began to rain down on you upon taking sight of him for the first time in years. you had barely looked, but it hit you.
  jungkook handed the envelope over to you and you cleared your throat, standing up properly and trying not to wobble on your favourite high heels. he also stood up and seemed to mirror your confusion, not understanding who was the person in front of him. you muttered a thank you and fixed an imaginary snag on your cardigan.
  “i just go by my first name now,” you said through a tight smile to both men, still feeling like your gut was punched in after hearing the nickname that your grandpa coined,
  “oh, of course. you’re all grown up now!” the man exclaimed. “do you remember me? mr. kim?”
  the truth was that you didn’t remember him by face, but instead remembered that your father mentioned a man of this name being the mayor. if he was the same person, mr. kim’s father was the previous town mayor, as well, and was your grandfather’s best friend before his own untimely passing. given his larger than life presence, it was same to assume that the man in front of you was the tiny valley’s politician.
  “mayor kim, of course.” you hoped you sounded convincing.
  jungkook was still standing to the side, the same confused look etched on his face. “you’re the girl that tricked me into eating mud that one time?” he blurted, as if an imaginary lightblub flashed above his head
  that took you by surprise and you almost snorted. “i didn’t trick you, you just went for it.” the quick snap back also took you by surprise, having left behind a bit of your normal self in the city before coming down to the valley for the funeral, as well as your instant recollection.
  somehow, this memory was clear as day and you could remember jungkook as a seven year old with a horrible bowl cut and missing teeth. you wore light-up sneakers and candy bracelets that day, sitting on the porch of your grandfather’s farmhouse with him and were exchanging dares to see who would give up first. maybe that was why your grandpa said you two were - 
  “ - always competitive,” jungkook said.
  although the two of you surely shared countless more memories, it was this one that stood against the test of time and it showed when it immediately hit you with a laugh. it took jungkook a second, too, but he eventually gave in and joined with his own. you hadn’t realized it until his swollen eyes became crescents in his giggles, but he seemed to be having his own trouble of a day.
  “there it is, jungkook! nice to see you finally cheer up a bit,” mayor kim encouraged and jungkook’s chuckle immediately fell back to a straight face, almost intentionally. you suspected that this was not the first time today that mayor kim was on his case.
  before mayor kim could add on, his attention gravitated towards something at the other end of the room. he sighed and set down the hor d'oeuvres, checking the time on his wrist dressed with gold. 
  “oh, i’m being called over,” he sighed and turned back to you. “it was a pleasure seeing you again, i hope to see you around town before you have to go back to the city.”
  swiftly, mayor kim weaved his way through the crowd and just like that, it was just you and jungkook.
  you took this opportunity to give jungkook an actual once over, comparing it to the faint image you had of this man from when you were children. undeniably, he was handsome, but you were more concerned with the fact that this was still the little boy you spent your summers with. he grew into his face and you didn’t realize that you accidentally said this out loud.
  jungkook looked as much taken aback as he was amused. “oh, you got jokes, huh? that’s what you learned growing up in the city?” he teased.
  “i didn’t mean it like that - “ you started, but he waved you off with a laugh.
  the conversation was a bit overwhelming, considering you were still stuck in a church basement following your grandfather’s funeral service and could not locate your parents anywhere. jungkook recognized this in your face and eased into a sympathetic smile. somehow, you felt okay enough around him to drop your tense shoulders for the first time that day.
  “i’m sorry, i should be giving my condolences. your grandpa was a loved man by everyone here.”
  looking around the room, it was clear. everyone had shared fond stories and were making toasts in his honour. you felt out of place, but more so because you felt like you should have been joining in with the attendees. instead of being a kind of extended family that once saw you grow up, these people were strangers. you weren’t sure if anyone recognized you, having tried to lay low and not draw any attention to yourself. the only times you seemed to have caught anyone’s eye was when you were sat beside your parents at the burial, but no one dared approach you then.
  “you were like a son to him, too,” you offered. it was true, given the amount of time you spent with jungkook as a child, maybe even going so far to call him your best friend at one point. 
  he let out a long breath, eyes moving to the enlarged portrait of your grandfather propped up on the wall. “that’s nice of you to say. i miss him already. i’m sure you feel the same.”
  you learned quickly that, in light of your disappearance from your grandfather’s farm over the years, jungkook was the one who began helping out and taking over what were your old chores. your grandfather was physically able, but he kept the young boy around for company and made feeding the chickens an excuse to have his presence. hearing this made your heart drop, feeling an unknown sense of regret that you didn’t know existed when it came to the farm.
  “it’s not like that!” jungkook cut in, seeing the tears well up in your eyes. “he would always talk about the two of you going on adventures in the city and how he loved spending time with you whenever he came up to visit. he knew that’s where your heart was.”
  you sniffled a bit, having already promised yourself to limit your breakdowns to two that day, and took a second to reel it in. “sorry…i don’t mean to - “ you sighed. 
  “it’s okay. it’s weird being back here, huh?” 
  it was weird. it was so damn weird that the air of amber valley stuck with you for the months following, like bubblegum in your hair and a melody on loop in your head. you couldn’t shake it. not when you were working an extra 20 hours overtime in a week, not when you became stuck in traffic everyday, and especially not when your boyfriend of three years dumped you because you “changed” so much since the start of the year.
  and, it was true. you changed a lot since your conversation with your grandfather on christmas eve, with his words echoing about the stressors of life everyday. it opened your eyes to how much you were really struggling and it wasn’t simply you who had changed, but your outlook on life. ever since you were twelve years old, everything shifted to the fastlane and years breezed by you in the blink of an eye. everything moved so fast and you never got a chance to catch your breath. one moment, you were 15, sneaking a sip of your first ever drink, and the next, you were 24 and drinking straight out of the wine bottle on a tuesday evening. you wondered how you suddenly found yourself jaded at a 9-5 black hole of a job that sucked out your energy and passions. 
  these days made you think about what truly deserved your energy and what truly were your passions. did you like your everyday routine of gluing on false lashes and slipping on pantyhose? were you happy, alone in your apartment with not even a cat to talk to? your parents had their own worlds and new lives to deal with and long stopped asking why you never call. your friends were co-workers, having no time to meet anyone new. you didn’t even have time for hobbies, given how tired you were every time you finished work and the amount of overtime you did.
  one thursday night, you arrived home from work at 10:13pm and decided you had enough. it was constraining, nearly strangling you with exhaustion everyday. you spent the entire day wondering was “it” was and when you kicked off your loafers by your doorstep, it hit you. this was what your grandfather was talking about.
  almost walking with fear of what was to come, you creeped over to your desk. after your grandpa’s funeral, his envelope no longer lived underneath manila folders in your drawer, but found a place on the surface. you kept it there, as it mocked you every time you opened up your work laptop after hours. you didn’t realize why you left it in plain sight, until this moment when you came to terms with the fact that you were reminding yourself of him.
  “if you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of change. the same thing happened to me, long ago. i’d lost sight of what mattered most in life. . . real connections with other people and nature. so i dropped everything and moved to the place where i truly belong.”
  it took you precisely two weeks to pack up your things after opening the envelope. nobody could convince you not to. your mother complained that you were wasting your degree and your father had concerns about the massive role you were about to take on all by yourself. it didn’t matter.
  two weeks later, you met amber valley and its sunlight for the first time in years, pretending that the storm ceased and the sun shone to welcome you back. 
  iii. the granddaughter
the sun faded quickly when you realized the bus dropped you off on a plain dirt road in the middle of nowhere. the movers took the rest of your belongings separately, so you were left with nothing but a duffel bag and a cell phone that couldn’t find any signal.
  “oops,” was all you could say. you didn’t think it was a crazy idea, that there would be service at the very least.
  it took you a few moments to let the situation settle in and for you to realize that you were abandoned in a place that was unfamiliar to you. was it unfamiliar? you looked around, seeing nothing but fields on fields and accepted that there was no way you could even try to remember where you were, even with the help of the maps app. you knew you made it to town, but you were certainly left at the farthest point of the borders. 
  and then, you heard it.
  it was over at least ten years since you last rode, but your ears perked up at the sound of a horse’s gallop naturally. you had to squint, but it was unmistakable.
  they were going in the other direction and they were going fast, so you had to think fast. you tried yelling and waving your arms, but quickly saw that it was useless. so, you dropped your bg and brought your hands to your mouth, releasing the loudest whistle that your vocal chords could handle.  
  the horse and its rider kept going and for a few seconds, you thought you lost hope. but, then, as you were about to pick up your bag in shame, you watched them take a wide turn back around. they were headed to you.
  you waved your arms back and forth again, affirming that you needed their attention. as they came closer, you could make out a figure of a man with chestnut brown hair peeking out underneath his cowboy hat. he wore medium wash, stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt. 
  “that was the loudest whistle i’ve ever heard,” he hollered, drawing closer to you.
  you shook your head bashfully. “didn’t even know i remembered how to do that.”
  “pretty sure the whole town heard. my name is namjoon, are you visiting someone here?”
  likely a few years older than you, you tried to recall someone named namjoon from your memories. his appearance didn’t ring a bell, so you were searching your brain for his name or if you heard it from somewhere.
  you told him your name and then squinted at him, pausing for several moments before speaking again. “are you. . .joonie?”  
his eyebrows shot up immediately, looking at you like he couldn’t understand what language you were speaking. “pardon me?”
  joonie. he was mayor kim’s eldest son, who was sent to a fancy arts camp every summer when you were younger. you only met him a few times throughout the years, as he often arrived back the same week you were due to leave your grandpa to go back to your parents, but one feature stuck in your mind always. his dimples. you thought you recognized namjoon’s polite smile and piecing it together with his name seemed to be the key. 
  “i’m pretty sure you’re mayor kim’s kid. i’m bad with faces, but you’re joonie, aren’t you?” the confidence in your voice was fuelled by the fact that no one really left amber valley. it was the kind of place where families would raise their children with the kids they grew up with themselves. 
  namjoon seemed to still be calculating your appearance in his head when you heard the faint noise of galloping once again. the two of you looked over to see another person on a horse who was looking around the field, likely looking for namjoon. the man in question brought his hand to his mouth and released a whistle similar to yours - though, you did gloat silently because yours was, in fact, louder.
  still, it was enough to get the person’s attention and they finally made eye contact with the two of you. they began approaching and you could make out that it was a man’s figure. still, even with how small of a town amber valley was, you were surprised to see who it was.
  “jungkook!”
  “namjoon, i just spent fucking 15 minutes looking for you - “
  you tried to keep your expression neutral when you saw that it was actually jungkook on the horse. he wore an all-black outfit of cargo pants and a wife beater tank that exposed his tattooed arms. it made it hard to keep your expression the same.
“oh, hey. did you come to collect something from your grandpa’s property?” jungkook suddenly ignored his previous frustration at namjoon, cleared his throat and dropped his voice by an octave, in addition to cutting his voice’s volume by a cool half. he swiftly hopped off his horse, too cleanly to be casual.
  namjoon’s confusion only doubled, darting eyes between the two of you. “sorry, have you guys met?” he didn’t miss the way that jungkook straightened his shoulders without even trying to be subtle.
  you missed it, though, having cut away your stare to double check if your phone managed to get any signal. none. sighing, you shook your head at jungkook, as he began explaining to namjoon.
  “ - we called her bunny. remember bunny?” he nudged towards you.
  namjoon looked back at you again and concern formed. “you’re the granddaughter. oh, you were at the funeral - i’m sorry about your loss. your grandpa was such a great person.”
  you put on the same tight smile every time someone mentioned him. the worst of the grief came back on some days, but you learned how to manage it day by day as time went on. jungkook watched you do so and cleared his throat.
  “the old bus stop is the worst,” he interrupted, gesturing towards the tiny sign that indicated that it was in service. “people get lost all the time when they arrive. well, we don’t really have a lot of people visiting by bus - “
  you couldn’t help but cut in. “i’m not visiting.”
  the two men gave you and your single chanel duffel bag a blank stare and wondered if the idea was so hard to believe. it was for your parents, who both thought you caught them on some sort of prank show when you told them about grandpa’s envelope. you were wearing platform mary janes and a leather skirt in the dead of the june sun, so maybe they had a reason to be confused.
  there was a moment of silence, so you decided to speak again. “yeah, i’m not visiting. um, i’ve decided to take over my grandfather’s farm. i’m moving to amber valley permanently.”
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thepromptfoundry · 1 month
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For June 2024, the Prompt Foundry is celebrating with Pride and Promptudice!
Different colors mean different things to different people, but for many the association between rainbows and queer community and pride is undeniable. Let's take some time to explore these colors, what they've meant historically, and what they mean to each of us now!
If you use this list, please tag me here @thepromptfoundry, I’d love to see your writing and art!
Feel free to combine different days' prompts with each other, or combine them with other seasonal events! Use your OCs, your favorite characters from media, your own experiences, whatever tickles your fancy.
Respond to as many prompts as you want or as interest you, don’t worry about missing or skipping any. Remember, this is supposed to be fun!
If you have any questions or musings, check our FAQ, and if you don't find your answer, shoot me an ask.
Plain text list below the cut:
1 Roses 2 Lipstick 3 Ruby Slippers 4 Oranges 5 Sunsets 6 Lemons 7 Wisdom 8 Green Carnations 9 The Forest 10 Turquoise Jewelry 11 Artemis 12 Bluejeans 13 Midnight 14 Lavender Marriage 15 Labrys 16 Sex 17 Life 18 Red Ribbons 19 Healing 20 Campfire 21 Sunlight 22 Gold Rings 23 Nature 24 Bow and Arrow 25 Magic 26 The Ocean 27 Serenity 28 The Lady of the Lake 29 Spirit 30 Royalty
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keplercryptids · 1 year
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if you've never considered playing anything other than D&D 5e, now might be the time to start.
as you may have heard, Wizards of the Coast wrote up a new Open Game License that was leaked and it's really, really bad. (i linked to the article about it yesterday but here's a twitter thread of the author of that article summarizing it.)
i'll attempt my own breakdown of what this means here:
the new OGL revokes the previous OGL. this is bad for so many reasons, and will affect all kinds of TTRPGs like Pathfinder, and third-party publishers like Kobold's Press.
it also means that character sheets wouldn't be able to be used in unauthorized virtual table tops anymore, including Roll20, Foundry, etc.
the new OGL grants WotC a perpetual, irrevocable license to all third-party content produced and published under the old OGL, as well as future content. for example, if WotC hypothetically liked Dimension 20's Unsleeping City setting enough, it could sell products related to that setting, without needing D20's permission.
the new OGL can be updated, changed or revoked with only 30 days' notice. truly wild.
anybody who makes more than $750k revenue (not profit, but revenue) has to pay 20-25% over that amount in royalties to WotC. this will affect so many kickstarters raising funds for indie TTRPG systems that used to fall under the original OGL. $750k sounds like a lot but keep in mind publishing books is expensive.
this is really, really bad. WotC will probably go back on some of this based on public response, and a lawsuit may make them go back on even more. (some of what they're trying to do here is illegal? i think?) but they'll likely still push forward with some of it.
it seems WotC's goal is to 1) appease shareholders (which in late-stage capitalism means "exponential growth forever") and 2) create a closed ecosystem for d&d that's completely under WotC's financial control. think: D&D Beyond being the only place you can access any D&D content, character sheets, etc. and i mean, in general, they've shown a pattern of greed and weighing corporate interests more heavily than their customers or employees.
now would be a great time to move away from d&d if you've ever considered doing so, or to consider it if you haven't.
if you want something similar to d&d 5e mechanically but a bit crunchier, try pathfinder 2e. if you want narrative-focused storytelling games, try Powered by the Apocalypse or FATE systems. if you want a mechanics-forward episodic style of play, try Forged in the Dark systems. if you want a cross-genre game with freeform character creation, try Savage Worlds. and this is an extreme short list of the great TTRPGs out there! a lot of systems that, IMO, people would have more fun playing than d&d, just based on preferred style of play. try them out and please don't give WotC anymore money lol.
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“He wonders…” TWST boys dreaming about their crush (Savanaclaw)
Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde (literally just Idia) | Diasomnia
Leona Kingscholar
For someone who sleeps a lot, he dreams nothing. No dreams when he sleeps whatsoever, which is honestly amazing.
The only time he’ll ever start to dream in his sleep is when he slowly fell in love with you. He dreams of the two of you lying beneath a tree in each others’ arms, looking above the clouds that blanketed the sky while the smile around you both… and he wakes up abruptly in the middle of class. “I’m quite surprise you woke up before I could even call you, Kingscholar,” the professor stated, actually impressed. He scowls slightly, grumbling while having the faintest pink hue dusting his cheeks over how “you” ruined his sleep schedule (which is 25/8-).
Leona can’t sleep without dreaming of something with the two of you together, which makes him less than pleased over the fact he feels strange whenever he has those dreams. It’s confusing him: he doesn’t know if he likes it or not.
He doesn’t avoid you, but he doesn’t tell you that you’re always on his mind even when he closes his eyes. You’re still there with him. Slowly, Leona would come to accept the fact that he does dream of you, in the Afterglow Savana in a dress fit for royalty, you smiling and giggling… he’s more comforted in his sleep when he dreams of you.
But he gets tired. Tired of all that are dreams about you. He wants it reality. He wants this to be real. When he grabs you by the hand and turns you around, emerald eyes calm but masks anxiousness bore into yours. “Herbivore, I love you,” and he prays in his heart deep down that his dreams come true. <3
Ruggie Bucchi
Does he dream? Well, yes, but it’s usually about food. His dreams are pretty much what you expect before you met him: donuts and memories of his childhood with his grandmother. It always makes him happy. All his dreams are related to what makes him happy. And now? He dreams of you, which is slightly overpowering his dreams of millions of donuts he sits on like it’s a throne. Ruggie dreams of you wearing a crown of daisies while you walk over to him, giving him a ring of daisies with a dandelion on the top like it’s a big jewel.
Ruggie doesn’t openly tell you he dreams of you, it’s embarrassing and maybe creepy to tell your friend you were dreaming of them doing some awfully lovey-dovey stuff. You two were friends after all, right?
Somehow, Ruggie can’t help but brew scenarios of the both of you holding hands together, eating donuts in a field of dandelions together, and blowing them into the wind as you laugh joyfully with the wind. He can’t help but smile. However, he also can’t help but dream of the past with you: how you celebrated his birthday with him, when he celebrated yours, when you both went to the Vargas Camp with together… you never failed to make him smile giddily. He subconsciously blushes and closes his eyes, wishing you were really there to experience all that he dreams of.
“Ruggie! There you are!” He whipped his head around to see you, the faint pink blush of his became crimson realising you’re here. Perhaps he could dream another day. <3
Jack Howl
Jack is not much of a dreamer and prefers to realistically look forward to what he can do and what he’s supposed to do, such as watering his cacti and going to class respectively. Again, not really much of a dreamer.
As he falls in love with you, the dreams start to flower in his head, blooming like flowers in his head. He couldn’t help but dream of you in his arms as he takes in your scent and melt into your warmth and press a sweet kiss on your head… errrr… o-or maybe just the two of you watering the cacti in his room together while giggling through the morning. Ah, he feels embarrassed that he’s thinking of such romantic things of his own friend. Jack knows that it’s very clear he has a crush on you, but how should he react?
Whenever Jack dreams, he’ll be slightly dazed with a slight agape, his eyes would be half lidded as his tail swish left and right, dusting the floor. His cheeks pink as he dreams about flowery dreams of you and him together. What’s a wolf gotta do to just tell you straight up he feels so enamoured by you to the point he dreams of you in class. Luckily, he doesn’t get caught but finds himself asking Epel more and more with the latter asking him “You’ve never not paid attention before. What’s up dude? Yer good?” When he confessed to Epel about his dreams of you, the petite boy smirked.
“Yer love em lots Jack. Just tell em and give it a shot. No need to fear Jack yer a good guy and I’m sure they’ll love ya too my man!” He gives a thumbs up, leaving Jack a bit confident and reassured. When he sees you again the next day in class, his heart skipped a beat when he saw you smile at him.
“Jack! You called me here to find you? What’s up?” You laughed a little, smiling warmly at you. “I have something to tell you…” he started, and he breathes in and exhales, cheeks tinted red. Here goes nothing… <3
Reblogs help! ^^
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June of Doom Day 9, Day 24, Day 25
| Blame | “Let’s get you cleaned up.” | Guilt | Failure |
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Contains: lady whump, dudewhump, restraints, gag/muzzle, slapping, magic/fantasy whump, guilt, betrayal
WC: 940
Where does your loyalty lie now?
The feeling of the usurper’s fingers tangled in her hair made her vision swim and blur as jolts of white-hot pain shot over her scalp.
“I promise,” she choked out. “I promise I won’t . . .”
He let go rapidly, shoving her away from him. The sudden assault sent her sprawling on the floor.
“You’re as pathetic as he is,” said the prince. “As your entire corrupt, wretched family was.”
Corrupt? Wretched? Rich of him to hurl insults at her dead family when he was the one with their blood on his hands.
“Not that I mind,” he sneered. “Still, it’s true.”
She swiped away her tears and righted herself, stumbling unsteadily to her brother’s side.
“I’m sorry. You’re all right,” she said tearfully, reaching with shaking hands for the leather ties knotted at the back of his head. “You’ll be all right. I’m so—” Her clumsy fingers accidentally tore at a lock of his sweat-damp hair, making him recoil. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I’m so—”
The usurper’s voice cut over hers again. “Tell him.”
Her hands stilled. “What?”
“Tell. Him.” The prince held her gaze. “Tell him why he awoke a prisoner, dethroned and in chains. Why I was kind enough to let him live.” His eyes narrowed. “How I learned his little secret.”
Her brother, who had stoically fixed his attention on anything that wasn’t her, now shifted. Met her eyes.
She untied the knots fully and gently pried the evil contraption away, pretending she couldn’t see the lines on his face or the humiliated flush of his skin or the sheen of saliva left behind now that the muzzle was gone. “Let’s get you cl—”
“Do not ignore me,” said the usurper. “Tell him what you did, or I will.”
The silence that followed the command felt . . . preternatural. As if her answer—the truth of her betrayal—were already suspended in the air between them. She found her gaze drawn downward, lingering on her brother’s clothing, stained now with dirt and with blood that must have transferred from the hands of the murderers who had stolen him from his bed. His chest heaved frantically. How could she not hear every gasping breath? Why couldn’t she hear his voice?
“They were going to kill you,” she whispered. “While you were defenceless. While you slept.”
A hand closed its iron fingers around her throat. Not a real one, not the hand of a usurper or soldier or executioner. A phantom hand, wielded by the ghosts of her family or perhaps by her own guilt, for her brother’s eyes widened, welling with such shock and horror at her treachery that, as her airways collapsed and her neck threatened to fracture, her heart shattered.
You? His lips formed the word, no sound accompanied it. And then his eyes snapped again, wider now, even more terrified than before. A second time, he tried to speak, but there was only a whoosh of air.
“What have you done to him?” she cried, leaping to her feet.
“I said it was fine to remove the muzzle,” said the prince smugly.
“What did you do?” She took a few furious steps toward him. Games. He was toying with both of them, a cat dangling two squeaking, quivering mice from its razor-sharp claws. Forcing her to confess what she’d done, sowing the seed of blame and resentment so they might never team up to overthrow him, to take their revenge. Muzzling her poor brother with only the aim of humiliating him, then stealing his voice anyway.
How? Through some magical means, no doubt. She looked back, seeking the source.
There.
How could she have missed it? A chain, less a necklace and more a collar, locked around his neck, emitting a faint, unnatural glow—barely discernible, but unmistakably present. Now that she knew it was there, she could almost feel its power pulsing evilly against his throat, emanating outward.
“Take that off,” she shouted, whirling around to face the usurper once more, “let him sp—”
The prince lashed out, and for the second time since she’d been brought before him, he landed a fierce blow to her cheek.
“You don’t give me orders,” he reminded her calmly, watching her struggle to rise from where she had spilled on the floor. “And I certainly will not remove it. How else am I to ensure that brother dearest speaks only what and when I want him to?”
“You’re a monster,” she hissed.
He shrugged. “Perhaps,” he said. “You brought this upon him, remember?”
Tears burned her eyes, spilling wildly down her cheeks and dripping onto the filthy floor. “You can’t do this.”
How he laughed.
“Well, fallen seer?” He shifted his attention to her brother. “It seems you’re the one with a choice to make now. Will you live or die? Your sister was the one to betray you, so will you still protect her, or will your bitterness send you both to your deaths?” He jerked his head at his leering soldier. “We’ve got a willing executioner, and he might even make it quick, if he’s feeling merciful. So tell me. Where does your loyalty lie now?”
Her brother’s gaze scorched all in its path as it roved from her to the usurper and back. She collapsed, weeping. He wouldn’t forgive her. How could he? She’d tried so hard to save him, and she’d failed.
“Answer me,” said the prince. “Was it worth it, keeping you alive till now? Will you give me what I want or not?”
Her brother lifted his head. This time, when he opened his mouth, a strained, broken voice spilled out.
“I’ll do it.”
June of Doom Masterlist
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@juneofdoom
All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.
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ripplestitchskein · 2 months
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I do hope one day we find out WHY Blitzø came back after 25 years. Like what prompted him to even remember the grimoire when Verosika was a more recent person in his life who he knew could get to the surface? Why did he assume he could even use it without Stolas? And we saw how easily he found and overpowered the guy with the crystal to reach Barb in Happy Campers so like….why that plan specifically? Did he try with Verosika and failed?
It just seems like the most difficult plan to pull off and the riskiest. Robbing powerful demon royalty at a fancy party for a book you do not know how to use versus stealing a point and click crystal from an ex you already know well and actually handled security for, or one of the random people who have them for various import reasons around the realm that he found fairly quickly.
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a-heart-attack-ow · 6 months
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The Arrangement. Part One
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1: 
Dust hung in the air. 
Flecks frozen in time as my breathing hitches. 
I never meant to be here. 
For things to get this far. 
The truth was, I’d done everything I could to protect my father. He’d made a lifetime of mistakes and gambled away other people’s money and fell into all the wrong crowds until, one day, he fucked over the worst family in Las Vegas. A family from old money, a family as close to royalty as they could get. The family didn’t lose much money because of my father, but even a dollar was too much for the Brock family empire. The same family that was out for blood the moment they learned their employee betrayed them. 
I was there the night they sent someone to break into my house. I’d come home earlier than normal as my night class had been canceled. I’d pulled into the driveway after getting home from University and heard the yelling the moment I stepped out of the car. I was there when I ran into the house, and found my father in the living room on his knees with a man holding a gun to his head. And it had been me who begged them to not hurt my father. I’d sworn to give them anything they wanted to spare him, but I never imagined they’d want this. 
I never imagined they’d want me standing in a wedding dress in the bedroom of the family’s only biological son. The man I’d married only three hours before. I could cry remembering how I’d gotten here. How I ended up with the 10 carat diamond black engagement ring and a wedding band with five carat diamonds embedded into the band. The ring was heavy and served as a constant reminder of who I now belonged to. A reminder of what would happen to my father if I did anything to ruin this arrangement. 
The Brock family was untouchable. They had more money than they would ever need and a massive pharmaceutical company behind them. Mr. Brock was also the CEO of 20 major hospitals in Las Vegas. On the surface they seemed nice enough, but there was something sinister that everyone who knew them couldn’t place. They’d been involved in countless scandals and always managed to avoid any of the legal trouble that had come their way. They’d been viewed as a family of kindness, faith, and pure opportunities, but when their son got into his teenage years that had changed. The Brock family’s only son had a constant place on the cover of tabloid magazines. Even now, at the age of 25 he was still constantly on the cover of the tabloids. 
The senior members of the family knew they had to do something to clean up his image. Something to switch the party boy behavior into something that reflected the family values their company preached. But I doubt anyone would’ve guessed that this was their plan for their son. 
To force him into an arranged marriage to save their reputation. 
Colby Brock…
…is my husband. 
I feel a chill move up my spine at the thought. To spare my father from murder, I had to marry the heir of the people who’d wanted him dead. The masked man had laughed in my face when I told him I would give him anything he wanted if he didn’t hurt my father. 
“I know just what I am going to do with you.”
He’d chuckled darkly, his blue eyes shining behind the black ski mask he’d been wearing. Nothing could’ve prepared me for this. I close my eyes at the thought, tears threatening to spill over. Suddenly, my wedding dress feels very hot and I need to get out of it. I reach around to the side of my dress to find the zipper of my strapless dress. The gown itself was made of the finest silk money could buy (or at least that’s why the stylist had told me), but I couldn’t bear to be in it a second longer. I shimmy out of the dress, the fabric lightly landing onto the ground. My long black hair hangs in my face as I make sure my feet can safely step out of the fabric without catching on the fabric. I make sure to slip off the high heels I’d been wearing and keep them in the pool of fabric on the floor. My bare feet find the heated wooden floors and I feel a sense of calm move over me now that the dress is off of my body. I don’t even care that I’m standing in the middle of the bedroom with only my bra and underwear on. I just care that I’m no longer in that dress. I brush the long black curls of my hair out of my face and breathe a deep sigh. For a moment I don’t feel the anxiety I’d been feeling for days, but then I hear a voice behind me that brings me back to reality in an instance. 
“Now this is a view I could get used to.” 
His voice causes me to freeze. I’d only heard that voice for the first time today. When he read off his scripted vows. I turn to face him slowly, my green eyes finding his pale blue gaze in the dark. I had been in such a rush to leave the wedding reception that I didn’t properly take in my surroundings. I knew I was standing in a bedroom, but now that I was looking at Colby, standing in the middle of a grand room, I realized how much luxury engulfed me in this moment. He is standing in the middle of his bedroom, his tux jacket hanging over his right arm and his button up shirt undone. He looks like he had fun at the reception and like he didn’t mind that I’d snuck out as quickly as I could. 
“I am sorry…”
I start faintly, a smirk spreading to his lips.
“... I should’ve gone somewhere private to change.” 
My voice sounds so small when I speak. I don’t know the man in front of me and a part of me is terrified about what will happen next. He takes two steps to the right, dropping his tuxedo jacket onto the loveseat next to his desk. The smirk never leaves his face when he does this, not even when he looks back at me. His eyes scan my body in appreciation, his approval evident in the way his eyes light up the longer he stares. 
“Well, my darling wife, what’s mine is yours. You can change wherever you like. Afterall, this is our bedroom. This is your new home, all 10,000 acres.” 
Amusement moves across his face as I study him. His words echo in my mind, I’d married into a wealthy family and now I was stuck in the middle of a large estate. I’d grown up on food stamps and in low-income housing. I didn’t even know how to exist in a place like this. He notices the way I am studying him and he chuckles. He’d been here before, in a position with a woman who was intimidated by the sheer scope of him and his lifestyle. 
“You did a good job today…”
He rasps. 
“...Wore the dress my mom picked out. Let Kris do your hair and makeup, and posed exactly as you’d been told to.  It’s like my parents picked you out of a catalog or something…”
He pauses once more, moving to sit on the edge of his loveseat. I can’t read him or what he’s thinking but I see the slightest look of frustration entering his eyes as he continues to speak. 
“...Your name is Emilia Chandler and you’ve received all A’s your whole life, got into college early and now, at 24 you’re already working on your Ph.D. in higher education. You spend weekends at local soup kitchens, help donate to children’s cancer organizations, and donate to charities that support domestic violence survivors. You’re like an American Princess Diana, but I’m not a prince Emilia and I have no intention of treating you like a princess.” 
His words fall from his lips quickly and they’re unforgiving as he gives me a moment to process what he’s just said to me. His eyes aren’t kind, but there’s an amusement in his eyes as he studies me. I hadn’t realized he’d been studying up on who I am. 
“I’m sorry if I offended you or something.”
I whisper, my eyes moving from his to the floor. He chuckles darkly at my words, his body leaning back into the fabric of the loveseat. 
“Darling, I’m not offended. You do what you’re told and we can get through this without any problems. You fuck me when asked, pop out a few kids, and pretend to be happy when we are at events or in photographs. But make no mistake, what we are is an arrangement made by people who know that a girl like you is sweet enough to make me digestible to the public.” 
No one had ever spoken to me like he was at this very moment. The rudeness and the entitlement laced into how he spoke made my blood boil but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words hurt. I knew he wasn’t happy about the situation, because who would be happy about being forced to marry a person to save the reputation of your family. Who would want this? I know that I didn’t. 
“Come here…” 
He demands from the loveseat. I feel his eyes on me, willing me to move to him. Out of compliance I do as he’s asked and move to stand in front of him, my footsteps light along the hardwood. The same smirk he’d worn before has found itself back on his face as our gazes lock once more. I don’t know when he’s taken off his undershirt but he has and now his shirtless body is on full display. I note the tattoos and his extremely toned body before moving my eyes back to his. Without asking, his hands are on either side of my hips, pulling my body down to straddle his. 
“Sam was right when he told me you were a looker. That’s all I could think when you were walking down the aisle. It makes this arranged marriage thing worth it, knowing I, at least have an attractive girl to fuck.”
The lack of kindness he’d had before, remains evident in his biting comments. He was vile, hot as hell, but vile. 
“Sam?”
I ask as the hands that had been on my hips snake their way up my body. He pulls my waist in against his torso, our skin on skin in seconds. He chuckles at how my breathing hitches as he arranges how he wants my body to straddle his. He guides his fingertips to  reach around to undo my strapless bra. “Yes, Sam. He was my best man at the wedding.” 
With my chest now fully exposed to him, he groans. There’s a moment where I lock my eyes with his, a moment where I decide that I could just get this initial moment over with faster if I initiated something. I could feel his tension in the air around us both. He didn’t like being forced to marry, but he was going to take his situation and have fun with it. I think back to his comment about having children and feel relief at the fact that I still had my IUD. If his parents wanted grandchildren to keep the family line going, they wouldn’t be getting them anytime soon. 
The longer we look at each other I feel the tension building between us. Both of us were almost anticipating what the other was going to do. I could feel myself growing more restless the longer we looked at one-another, so I broke the tension and placed my lips against his. If he was going to make the best of this arrangement by using me then why couldn’t I do the same? My lips move slowly against his and he meets mine with equal pacing. He holds his body against mine the moment I deepen the kiss and suddenly he seems to need me like he’s been starved of physical touch his whole life. The longer we kiss the more I can’t seem to think straight. All I can think about is how I feel in the moment, how he feels against me. His skin is soft against my chest, comforting inviting all at once. Kissing him was far more pleasant than hearing him speak to me. There was a false sense of tenderness to him that had been lacking before. 
I feel his hands move to my chest, giving my breast a firm squeeze. The touch feels so good that I break the kiss and moan into the crook of his neck, unable to meet his gaze. I didn’t want to see the look of satisfaction on his face as I reacted like putty in his hands. He was molding me into what he wanted and I was shamelessly letting him. A dark chuckle passes his lips as he uses his right hand to stroke my breast, his thumb lightly tracing over my hardening nipple. His left hand moves down my torso slowly until he reaches my soaked underwear. 
“Is this all for me my darling?”
He groans into my neck, as he moves his fingertips to slide my underwear to one side. He wastes no time pumping two fingers into my aching core, the quick pace of his fingers is harsh but it feels so good. I allow a shaky breath to escape me as I breathe into his neck. I was going to cum if he kept up this pace and he knew it. 
“Such a good little wife you are…”
He groans when I dare to kiss his collar bone. He was magnetic and for whatever reason I felt this connection to him. It was purely sexual, but I enjoyed the way it made me feel. Feeling me get closer to the edge, he removes his fingers from my core, the loss making me feel empty. He pulls my hair and forces me to look at him. 
“...From this day forward you are mine…”
He practically growls the words at me, his jaw clenched as he studies me. I can’t speak when he says this, but I manage a small nod before he continues. 
“... You will never be anyone else’s.” 
Our eyes remain locked as he moves his hands to unbuckle his pants, lifting his body up enough to slide them down. He takes his boxers off at the same time as his dress pants and exposes himself to me. Completely unapologetically he smirks when I glance down at his hardened member. He’s bigger than anyone else I’ve ever had before, but I can’t help but want him inside of me as soon as possible. He wastes no time with my underwear, but instead of sliding them off he rips them off of my body. 
I’m not shocked by the aggressiveness nor am I shocked by the way that he moves his lips to mine in pure hunger. He knew what he wanted from me and he wasn’t afraid to take it. The kiss was frenzied and demanding as he deepened it, his tongue meeting mine. While he distracts my lips, his hands move my body against his, brushing his hardened cock against my slick core. He is setting my body to align with his and I brace myself to be impaled by him. I brace myself for the feeling of complete desire to overtake us both. 
He aligns himself with me with one quick thrust. A deep penetrating thrust that felt like utter perfection. My lips part as he thrusts again and again into me with quiet demand. A moan escapes my lips as he holds my body into place, his thrusts deeper and deeper. “I want to hear you say it…”
He groans into my lips. His pace was faster than it had been before. I feel like my head is spinning as he does this and I’m unsure of how I can respond to whatever he wants me to say. I didn’t think I could even form a coherent sentence. 
“...Say you’re mine and no one else’s. Say it and I might let you cum.”
There’s a veiled threat in his words, a smugness about him that told me he could feel how close I was to coming undone around his cock. A threat that told me I better verbally comply or I wouldn’t be able to release the pent up pleasure I felt. I could feel how close he was and I could tell that he needed to hear me say it, his ego would accept nothing less. 
“I am yours…”
I whimper as he thrusts into me so fast that I can hardly focus.
“... I am yours and no one else’s.”
The words fall from my lips mere seconds before he cums inside of me, his lips connecting with mine once more. He groans as his cock twitches inside of me. 
“Cum for me sweetheart.”
He rasps, giving me permission to let go. My body wastes no time responding to what he’s finally allowed me to do and it feels so good. 
Afterwards we sit on the loveseat, our chests rising and falling rapidly. We both strive to catch our breath, sitting in the silence of his room. It’s only when he guides my face to look up to his once more that he speaks one final time for the night. 
“Emilia Brock, we are going to have so much fucking fun together.”
*I have other parts in mind, please let me know if you would like to read more.*
195 notes · View notes
httpknjoon · 1 year
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spotted | jjk
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plot | This is how it started for the princess and the rockstar.
words | 3.8k
genres | fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au
pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader
note | hi!! this is my first entry for this series and I'm so excited to write more about this pair in the future. let me know your thoughts! enjoy reading :)
main masterlist | drabble series
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Royal Sisters, Princesses YN and Astrid Spotted Dancing at Sweet September’s Concert
On Friday night, the princesses were snapped watching the rock band at Crystalline Stadium.
Following the closing of the Royal Games earlier that day, Princesses YN, 25, and Astrid, 19, were spotted attending another big event in the country: Sweet September’s first Denim Jungle stop.
Fans of the rock band were stunned to see the two royalties in the said concert. Although the two sat in secluded seats in the stadium, they still attracted attention. Some concertgoers managed to capture pictures and short clips of the royalties enjoying the band’s performance– mostly Princess Astrid.
The usual contrast between the royal sisters is evident during their presence. Princess Astrid sported a rock-themed outfit with her oversized black leather jacket, red graphic tank top, flare jeans, and platform boots. On the other hand, Princess YN stayed true to her classy fashion style, wearing a black and white-collared Prada dress and knee-high boots. Both princesses wore black sunglasses during the whole event. The youngest sang and danced along to Sweet September’s tracks while the crown princess just nods her head to the beat. 
Worry not! Princess Astrid made Princess YN jump and dance along with her during the band’s performance of their hit song, My Fair Lady.
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“You two will have your own entrance and exit spots. Ronnie and Ben would accompany you two to the entrance and would meet you at the same gate after the concert.”
Your father’s trusty courtier, Eddie, guided you and your sister with what you’re supposed to do. There were rules you have to remember. Especially since Astrid practically begged your parents to not have bodyguards with her in this event. Your father only agreed to let her come if you come too, knowing that you rarely go out outside of your royal duties. But since you love your sister, you agreed to go even though you don’t really listen to Astrid’s types of music.
After the closing of Zafiro’s Royal Games earlier this day, your parents left for a conference in Scotland. That reason made you in charge of your younger sister. But since you two don’t really live in a simple household, you are still looked after by your Royal Staff for your safety.
“Is that all, Uncle?”
Astrid already had her arms crossed as she asked that. It’s been fifteen minutes since your car arrived in front of this secret entrance to the concert. But because of the King’s instructions, you and your sister are now itching in your seats to go.
Eddie smiled, noticing your sister’s tone, “I know you are excited about this concert, Your Royal Highness. But His Majesty still has one last message… and this is a very important one so listen.”
Your sister is ready to let out an exaggerated sigh. You are ready to calm down her rising shoulders. But Eddie continued,
“Please remind my lovely girls to enjoy the night amidst my tiring instructions. Take pictures and sing along. I would love to hear stories from them about this very important concert– based on what my Astrid said– when I and my queen get back from our short trip to Scotland. Follow what your Uncle Eddie says.”
A small smile formed on your lips with that. Finally, Eddie lets you two go with your bodyguards until the gate. Then, Gerald, a nice concert staff, welcomed you into the venue and led you and your sister to your seats.
“Oh, my god. I cannot believe Papa let us come here alone.” your sister said as she slipped the Xyloband into her wrist.
“I know…” your voice trailed off when you heard the people singing along to the song playing not too far away. You turned to the staff, “Excuse me, is the concert starting already?”
“No, Ma’am. We’re just playing the band’s music videos before they perform on stage. But they will be performing in a few minutes.”
You nodded with that. You went to concerts before, but not like this one. You liked jazz and classical music and would always try to go to concerts whenever you can. Those concerts are very much different than this band’s.
“These are your seats, Your Royal Highnesses,” Gerald spoke.
“Thank you so much.” you and Astrid said as you walked to the two empty seats.
With that, the staff left you. The seats are not that close or far from the main stage and it’s in the center. For safety purposes, your father and the security team agreed to not put you two in the floor spots where you can see the band better. Still, Astrid finds these spots great.
You assumed your father pulled some strings to make this possible since you heard from Astrid that the tickets were sold out as soon as it’s started selling. It made you wonder what’s good in Sweet September. You probably heard about them before, mainly because Astrid’s a rock-music enthusiast, but you don’t really know anything about them. Except that they recently worked with UNICEF for a campaign focused on cyberbullying. But you know nothing about their music.
“Oh, look at that! Look at those signs!”
Your sister was laughing while she points her finger somewhere. Your eyes followed where she was pointing.
DEAR CARTER, I’M A DRUMMER TOO. LET ME ROCK YOU! ;)
I SOLD MY CAR FOR THIS
MARRY ME MINGYU
HAIL KING WOOSUNG
CAN Y’ALL BE MY VALENTINE <3
Among those aggressive signs, there is one that made your eyes stretch wide and look away.
JUNGKOOK LET ME PUT OIL ON YOUR ABS
What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask Astrid but she was already talking to another fan who’s seating beside her. The said fan seemed surprised and delighted at the same time when she locked eyes with you for a second. You just smiled. As a highly-regarded crown princess, you know that they least expect you to show up in a rock concert next to them.
You then turned to your other side, where you immediately locked eyes with a lady who seemed a bit older than you. She instantly looked away and slowly looked back after a few seconds. She probably thought you were not looking at her anymore. But you are. And you can tell who she is by her awkward aura and stiff movements.
Part of showing respect to royalties, the public cannot talk to you until you speak with them first. So you decided to say something directly.
“Did the King hire you?” you asked her in a small whisper.
You don’t Astrid to hear it. You want her to focus on the fact that she is free from your parents’ overprotectiveness tonight. You can see the hesitation on her face but you can already tell that she is a secret security Eddie hired.
“It’s fine. I understand.” you gave her a reassuring smile. “Please, enjoy the concert too.”
The woman nods and bows subtly. You turned away. Astrid already has new friends. Between you two, she definitely is the friendlier one. It’s not like you are hostile. But she is just more carefree than you. Ever since you were a kid, you already followed the rules by the book. You know that you are in line for the throne and you need to be rightful for it. So you always try to be professional in your duties. You studied and work for your country.
“It’s a surprise to see you in here, Your Royal Highness.” one of Astrid’s new friends said.
“Please, just call me Astrid or you can add that princess title if you’re uncomfortable with calling me by name.” she quipped and they laughed. “Actually, the King only let me come here when Princess YN agreed to accompany me.”
Her friends’ mouths all formed into a small o. You waved at them, and they bow their heads. Suddenly, the lights slowly dimmed down and everyone began screaming– including Astrid. To say that your sister is excited was an understatement. It’s like she slept with a hanger in her mouth with how wide she’s smiling. Your cheeks hurt for her. But you’re happy to see her happy.
Taps on the microphone can be heard before someone cleared their throat, building up everyone’s excitement. You stood there, just listening to them and observing.
“Everyone, welcome to the denim jungle!”
Someone began playing a good riff on a bass guitar. The band’s silhouette is recognizable on stage. In the first beat of the drum, the lights snapped open. There, your eyes directly spotted the lead vocalist.
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Droplets of sweat made his skin feel gluey as he ran his hand through his damp dark hair. His plain form-fitting white top is almost useless with how it almost got transparent with his body. His chest heaves as he removes his earpiece.
“Great show tonight, boys!”
A staff greeted them on their way down from the stage. After almost three hours of singing, playing with instruments, and interacting with the audience, Jungkook can finally feel relief in his body. With his throat feeling a little sore earlier, he was careful with it throughout the whole concert.
“Okay, let’s take a picture first!” a staff declared.
Jungkook, Carter, Mingyu, and Woosung lined up and posed for a couple of pictures that their staff would post later. After that, the four talked about their performance as they cool off.
“My earpiece is a mess.” Woosung shared. “I cannot hear the drums well. I think it stopped working for a few seconds during Blue Skies.”
“Okay, we have extra of those. You can test your new one in your next rehearsals.” Tara, their manager, responded.
The others shared their thoughts for tonight. Jungkook just listened for the sake of his throat. When he felt it getting strained, he cleared his throat and reached for a bottle of water.
“How are you feeling now?” Mingyu tapped his shoulder.
“The same,” he answered shortly. “It didn’t feel better or worse than earlier.”
“Well, let’s go back to the hotel to let our Jungkook rest,” Carter replied.
The others agreed before standing up from the soft couch. Jungkook is already heading straight to their dressing room when Tara spoke.
“By the way, you had very special guests tonight. It made tonight’s tag trend worldwide on Twitter.”
Being trending is not new with the group. Ever since they started the tour a month ago, they have been on various social media trend lists every other day. They also had bid celebrities and personalities as part of the audience before.
“Who? The king?” Mingyu joked, making the others chuckle.
Tara clicked her tongue, “Eh, close. It’s his daughters, the royal princesses.”
The boys stopped in their tracks. Even Jungkook froze. He did not even notice his members simultaneously turning their heads in his direction. As if they were waiting for him to say something. Instead, it was Tara who spoke again.
“Maybe we can meet them.”
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All while the concert was happening, a fan who was also present in the event posted a stolen picture of you and Astrid. It led to your name and Astrid’s trending. Fans were excited to see royalties in such an event.
@/rockjeykey: no one told me princess astrid is a fan
@/denimparty: SOMEONE TELL JUNGKOOK ABOUT THIS
@/CRAYONNO7: YOOOOO i was just a few seats next to them! THEY ARE SO NICE AND FUN I HAD SMALL TALKS WITH THEM PRINCESS YN SAID SHE LIKES MY BAND SHIRT
Replying to @/CRAYONNO7
- @/eunwoobass: ur so lucky!!!
@/ASTRIDLOML: i’d like to think yn is astrid’s forever chaperone in events 🤣
Replying to @/ASTRIDLOML
- @/crownprincessyn: haha going to a rock concert is not so yn 😆😆
@/multifandommyg: imagine having zafiro’s princesses as your fans
@/sweetmonthof9th: i want to see the boys' reactions 💀
@/cartermatters: lolololol mingyu would be teasing the hell out of jk 
@/ZafiroRoyaltyNews: Princesses YN and Astrid attended Sweet September’s concert after today’s royal events! 💜✨ #DenimJungleInZF [insert photos]
@/SweetSeptember_twt: Hey! Hey! Hey! Rubies are red. Sapphires are blue. You guys are a gem that is hard to find! A big 💜 to Zafiro. Thank you all for coming tonight! #DenimJungleInZF
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“Thank you so much!”
Your mouth felt dry. You lost track of how many times you gulped throughout the whole performance as your eyes focused on someone. You felt like in a haze– a very hot one. 
Jungkook.
That’s his name, right? Whoever he is, he has the prettiest voice. You rarely listen to their genre of music but you managed to be entertained the whole time. But you don’t know why. When you saw him in that white shirt after he removed his leather jacket on stage, your brain stopped working for seconds. It’s probably because you didn’t expect him to have that arm sleeve tattoo. 
It’s so pretty.
He’s so pretty.
“Oh! That was so much fun! Thank you so much for going here with me.” Astrid cut off your thoughts. “I know this isn’t your type of music. So, I really appreciate you here with me.”
She jumped to hug you and you hugged her back, trying to cleanse off the thoughts in your mind. You just excuse your reaction now as a shock since this is your first rock concert. After saying goodbye to her friends, Astrid pulled you with her out of your seats. She continued talking to you about her excitement. You tried to listen but failed. You just remembered that lead singer playing with that guitar like his life depended on it. His fingers were smooth on playing that thing like he’s used to–
“Excuse me! Excuse me! Princess YN! Princess Astrid!”
Again, you snapped out of your thoughts. Both you and Astrid turned your head back when you heard your names. The lady who was next to you during the concert is now wearing her security earpiece. She was probably following you two since you walked out but you didn’t notice for obvious reason. She also looked at that someone who called for you.
That someone was also a concert staff. You read that card that she wears in her lanyard that says, MANAGER. She was almost out of breath when you stopped.
“Oh, I apologize for the informalities, Your Royal Highnesses.” she tried to speak with her hands on her knees, to catch her breath. After some seconds, she continued, “I am Tara Montez, Sweet September’s manager.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Montez.” you smiled, offering your hand for a shake, which she accepted. Astrid also did the same thing.
“Nice to meet you too, Princess YN and Princess Astrid. Thank you so much for being here!”  You see Tara paused. “It was totally unexpected and rare to see princesses at the band’s concerts. Uhm… We were hoping the band could meet you. They are big fans of your country. It would be an honor for them to meet you two even just for a short time.”
Astrid audibly gasped. You looked at her and her eyes say it all. You can even see the sparkles in her eyes. You can also hear your bodyguard communicating through her wireless device. You’re sure Eddie would definitely want you to walk out of the venue now but you know your sister would love the offer. It’s a one-time thing.
So before your bodyguard can interfere, you answered.
“Of course.”
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Back in the green room, Jungkook and the other members now showered and changed into their casual clothes. Carter and Woosung munched on the chips they saw on the table. Mingyu was giggling as he secretly takes a clip of Jungkook walking back and forth.
“What should we do?” he asked them, trying to keep his cool. But everyone can tell, he’s failing. He just never thought he would meet any royalty– you.
Out of distraction from the chips, Carter replied, “Curtsy?”
Before the others can laugh with that, the door opened and they immediately stood up straight. Carter and Woosung wiped their hands and even sanitized them. Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows at Jungkook. The latter gave him an annoyed look.
“And this is Sweet September.” Tara, who got in first, introduced them.
Jungkook’s heart almost stopped when he sees you entering with your small smile. Every photograph posted in the news and articles didn’t give your beauty any justice as he found you more attractive now you’re in the same room as him. When you locked eyes with him, he swore his heart fluttered.
Following what Carter said, Jungkook was ready to curtsy when you spoke.
“Oh… Uhm, we don’t really do that here, Mister. That’s more of like the UK’s thing. A bow would be fine.”
Everyone in the room laughed except you, who tried to be professional. But you found it cute. Especially when you saw that tint of red forming across his cheeks.
“Oh— uhm— My apologies, my quee– princess.”
“It’s your royal highness, dumbass.” his bandmate whisper-shouted at the back.
Your sister scoffed, finding the lead vocalist’s mistake as funny. You looked at her sternly. She acted appropriately again. You looked back at the boys again, trying to break your sight away from Jungkook.
“Thank you so much for coming to our country. I’ve never seen a crowd as energetic as that.” you began the conversation to break the ice. “It’s a surprise for me to hear our people here singing almost every song in your set. I just learned they are a big fan of your group.”
“How about you, Your Royal Highness,” Jungkook asked. He doesn’t know where he’s getting all this strength to talk to you. But he just knows that this might be his first and last.
You replied with the truth, “Oh– I– this is actually my first time listening to your music. Princess Astrid right here just invited me to go here with her.”
“She’s more of a jazz fan.” Astrid shared and they nodded.
Before the conversation continues, your bodyguard spoke, “Excuse me. Madams. The Royal Staff is asking us to go out now.“
Woosung was quick to request when they heard that, “Can we take a picture with you, Royal Highnesses?”
“Of course!”
This time, Astrid replied with uncontained excitement. You stood in between the four members. Mingyu was supposed to be next to you but he pulled Jungkook to exchange places with him. Jungkook instantly smelled the sweet and flowery scent just by being next to you while you ignored that strange feeling in your stomach when you felt your arms touched.
“Okay, one… two… three!”
The band stood in line once again after that. You and Astrid shook hands with them in turns. You introduced yourselves and so they did too. Ever since you were a kid, when you began attending public royal events, you always followed the royal protocol. In every person you met, you would shake their hand while having good eye contact. Another part of the protocol is the public cannot physically touch you unless you initiated it first. So, you did.  
The boys seemed surprised but showed their respect by bowing their heads while you shook hands with each of them. You just hoped your hand was not stone cold since you felt like it was since you stood in front of their lead vocalist. But when it comes to the last person in the line, Jungkook smoothly managed to kiss the back of your hand when you offer it for a handshake.
You were taken aback by the action. Not because he did it. But because it felt something else. The kiss was feather-like. It was light and brief. But you felt something electric run through your veins the moment his lips touched your skin. Your heart shivered. Then, it suddenly beat fast and you’re scared that everyone around you can hear it. You gulped as you made eye contact with him again.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness,” his deep and slightly hoarse voice said. It made you feel things you don’t know and you hate and like it at the same time. “I’ve read a lot about you.”
You pursed your lips, “You did?”
“Yeah.”
You wanted to ask and know more about what he reads about you. But before you can say anything again, 
“The Royal Courtier is waiting, ma’am.” the guard interrupted.
You tried not to show annoyance. But sighed.
“Well, we shall go. Our staff is waiting outside.” you smiled. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here in our country. Congratulations on your concert.”
They bowed and you turned around with Astrid, ready to leave the room.
“Wait!” Mingyu stopped you one more time. “Is there any way we can reach out to you and invite you girls again to our future events? E-mail? Phone number? Telephone number?”
Your sister was over the moon hearing that while you tried to hide the smirk forming on your lips. Jungkook knows what his friend is doing and he is somewhat thankful for Mingyu.
“The only way to contact us is through Zafiro’s Royal Communication Office. I believe their e-mail and telephone numbers are on their websites.” you sounded like you were teasing. But you just honestly found their attempt funny. “Other than that, feel free to send us a letter through the mail.”
Of course, you would not give your personal number. Jungkook thought. Do you even have that? You probably have your own assistant who answered calls for you. It is known to almost everyone that even though every royalty in Zafiro has their own social media accounts, you just use them to share your duties and advocacies.
“Again, it was nice meeting your band. We hope you come back to our country soon.”
You left the room, sharing knowing glances with your sister.
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While on their way back to their hotel, Jungkook scrolls on his Instagram account. His notifications were on blast as usual. But something caught his attention when he almost exit the app.
97.sapphire is now following you!
His eyes squinted. He clicked on the account. It only has twelve followers and two posts. It follows nothing. The account’s two posts are photos of artworks. One is a watercolor painting of a flower field during sunset. While the other is a detailed pencil drawing of what seemed like a coffee shop. Then, another notification popped out.
97.sapphire sent you a message.
Jungkook raised an eyebrow before he clicked on it. Without really expecting anything, he reads the message. As he go through the words, his eyebrow lowered while his lips formed into a smile.
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let me know what do u want to read more about this pair! :) thank you so much for reading.
taglist rules
THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST
@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @thvlover7 @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @coralmusicblaze @stupendouscookiehumanmug @namgoogieee @yoonjinhusbands @borahaeb1ch @lilliankoo @0rubyrose0
PERMANENT TAGLIST
@dunixxd​ @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1
616 notes · View notes
daarka · 1 year
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Actually fucking nuts. Capitalism ruins everything.
Push back against this. Be loud. Use #OpenDnD liberally.
Staying in 5e and ignoring 6e/"OneDnD" is not an option. I'll try to summarize below the cut, but I'm not an expert, so please seek out resources that aren't me for full info. This link is a good start. This is the full deep-dive I read up on a few days ago. Listening to the community is also worthwhile to understand from the voices of those affected most. To be more involved in the discussion yourself, a lawyer has set up a Discord server for the community to gather and converse in regarding this issue.
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Again, for full context and information from more knowledgeable sources than me (including actual professionals), please go to the links I included above. If you don't have the time/patience/spoons to read those articles, scroll a twitter feed, or poke around a Discord server though, here are the things that made the most potent impression on me and why you should care about this issue.
As mentioned, staying in 5e and ignoring 6e/"OneDnD" is not an option. While OGL1.1 was made for 6e, the extensive parts of the document that have been leaked make it clear that with OGL1.1 going into effect, OGL1.0a (which has been the OGL for the past decade) will no longer be functional. 3rd party creators must choose to either sign the OGL1.1 and comply with it's insanely restrictive and predatory terms, or face legal repercussions for publishing the content they have made their livelihoods off of the past decade.
Per the leaked document, all 3rd party creators must register themselves and their creations with WotC. - 3rd party creators making over $50,000 USD per year must also report their earnings to WotC. - 3rd party creators making over $750,000 USD gross per year must also pay WotC a 25% royalty. This means it is not 750k in profits, it is 750k before any expenses that they are taking the royalties from. Anyone whose profit margin was 25% or less would be financially invalidated by this royalty, and can even end up losing money. Furthermore, the nature of Kickstarters for example is that there is no upper ceiling on earnings, so a KS for a 3rd party sourcebook will suddenly be facing a massive expense they may not have planned for if their campaign exceeds the 750k mark, potentially destroying their ability to deliver on the rewards when they otherwise could have. While currently only a small number of creators are known to make over 750k/year (gross, not net), that does not mean this will not affect you. It creates a very dire argument for why 3rd party creators should not even make the effort in the first place, especially with crowdfunding where too much success can suddenly ruin them.
Remember how those who make over 50k have to report their earnings? Well, the 750k threshold is one WotC says they have the right to change at any time in OGL1.1. This means they can see what people are making when creators are forced to report their earnings over 50k, and use that data to lower the threshold of income for their royalty fee, and they can do this at any time, however much they want. Per OGL1.1, they are telling you that they can decide on a whim that actually, anyone making over $5,000 USD gross a year has to pay the 25% royalty.
D&DBeyond / OneDnD are working towards creating a VTT to host OneDnD/6e. While Roll20 is licensed by WotC if I'm not mistaken, virtually no other VTT is. Platforms like Foundry VTT (my personal favorite and most beloved VTT) will not be able to host the D&D system on them under OGL1.1. What does that mean? Hard to say. But it will objectively become much harder to play D&D outside of WotC-approved spaces in the near future, and that is by design. They want to monopolize how this game is played, and that means making it difficult, inconvenient, or even illegal to play the game outside of their personal playground.
Under OGL1.1, WotC claims full and complete ownership over any and all 3rd party content created for D&D, and the rights to use it however, whenever, and wherever they want without paying you royalties. You made this? Hasbro made this.
I've only ever played 5e. But this link I put up above was very informative about prior editions and the drama surrounding them. 3e had an OGL, and the community began to flourish with 3rd party content. WotC didn't like that people who weren't them were making money off a passion for D&D, and they regretted the OGL--but that OGL was irrevocable, and could not be cancelled, removed, or in any way undone. So they put together 3.5e. They promised 3.5e would be backwards compatible, and all your resources for 3e would still work for it. So people jumped to 3.5e, only to find all their 3e content was now worthless, because that hadn't been true. And 3.5e, of course, did away with that open and welcoming OGL from 3e. Sound familiar? "OneDnD" is touted to be backwards compatible. And yet also comes with crushing restrictions in their OGL1.1 that make it impossible for the D&D community to exist as it has been. It is transparently clear that for WotC/Hasbro, an ideal world would be one where all the money people have spent on flourishing this community over the last decade would have gone exclusively into their pockets. D&D makes hundreds of millions every year, but it's "under monetized" according to their new CEO. It doesn't matter if "Honor Among Thieves" flops at the box office, WotC has already green-lit the production of multiple D&D movies. It's not about fanservice, it's about fan exploitation. Because they can't fucking stand that the game they made can be played obsessively and passionately for decades with only the one-time purchases of the DMG and PHB. And instead of fixing the apparent "under-monetization" problem by publishing more official content, they choose to poach 3rd party creators. The very lifeblood that has caused D&D's success. Because capitalist greed is a soulless poison to whatever it fixes its attention on.
The only way the community has any shot in hell to fight this is if the pushback is intense and loud. WotC has released statements mentioning an openness to listening to the community and revising their choices based on feedback; whether that proves to be lip service or not remains to be seen, but either way: the only thing they seem to care about is money. Fine, let your money do the talking, then. Wholeheartedly support the boycott. Proclaim your support of it loudly. Let Hasbro know that their attempts to milk more profits out of this franchise will be the very thing that kills it if they don't ease the fuck back and allow OGL1.0a to persist. They apparently didn't learn shit when this happened in 3e/3.5e. They can either wise up now before they fuck up beyond repair, or they can be fully destroyed by their own greed. Time will tell.
Edit:
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Good catch, thanks! You're right, I must have had some wires crossed when writing that bit. They couldn't revoke it, but they did publish new content for 3.5e that made 3.0e content feel worthless; this is not something I personally lived through, but is based on the reporting from this second article I linked. Likewise, that article explains how 4e did not have an OGL and was consequentially a bit of a wasteland, presumably prompting WotC to bring the OGL back for 5e. Which flourished. And now we're here.
Edit II:
I'm Super not the best source of information for this because I'm absolutely all over the place, but 2 things.
Please check out OpenDnD.games for full, proper info and a place to give your signature in support of the community's pushback.
Something else I failed to mention above: OGL1.1 has a "poison pill" clause. Anyone who signs it permanently forfeits their right to publish under prior versions of the OGL, even if they are unable to take down those prior versions. DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING FOR OGL1.1. Even if the community pushback yields results, you may have trapped yourself. "Predatory" does not even begin to cover it.
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