#royal au 👑

[spookysinner45]

Eyyyyyy art! In a server I was in we were making art/or fics for a different AU every week, first week was Royal and god you know I love angst lol. 😂

What we have is Princess Courtney and her retainers who can't be in love because of the law of the kingdom and her mother. While being in an arranged marriage with a neighboring kingdoms prince, Hugh Hancock (main villain in her story), they all try to find a way to be together and get that prince out if the picture. I made a fic with it, NSFW of course and if y'all wanna read it let me know so I make the appropriate post for it!

-Mod Sinner 💙💙

[tarjapearce]

Crimson Crown (Pt. 10)

amazing cover done by @pinkiemme 🩷✨

King! Miguel O'Hara x Princess! Reader.

WARNINGS: Emotional distress, scheming, foul langue, no use of Y/N, no proofread, mentions of violence, relationship stablishment.

Summary: As the danger introduces itself in several names, a bond turns unbreakable.

A/N: Woke up extra romantic 🤭 and yes, G in Miles G Morales stands for Gonzalo jsksk. It's canon jsksk

Previous

Another day in Arachne meant another day away from home. Away from everything that had given you the strength to continue, far from the people you loved and cared for. Hopefully all this torment would end soon.

Your mind drifted off to the life you were ready to retake, the upcoming challenges to face as a future heir to Theleria's throne. And possibly the future prospect of a husband your parents would give you.

For a second, the image of Miguel came to mind, but it was quickly shook off. No. He had lost all right to you, even the one to inhabit your thoughts. Hence why you had been overworking yourself to exhaustion. His memories were fading, like the sound of his voice. The touch of his hands, no longer ghosting on your skin.

And his words way too gone and sapped away from your head. All those bits of him were disappearing from you.

Good.

You couldn't carry them with you once you left Arachne for good. Would you be enemies? No. Hopefully not. You didn't want any other sort of interaction with him, even if that meant to resort to the battlefield.

At this point Peter was used to this mute self you had turned into. But also understood your need of detachment. Deep within, the commander hoped this situation to be solved soon either way. He was tired of seeing Miguel wasting his energies in the training room, tearing apart the dummies, perfecting even more if possible, what he already knew.

Peter had been secretly praying for you to stay, because he knew that if you left, Miguel would retake his old ways and could potentially do everything in his wake to keep you by his side. And that hope had turned tangible, in the shape of none other than Lucille.

Said woman had been speaking to Miguel for the past few days, and keeping her existence a secret to you. Whatever they were planning, it better took start, since he had heard you packing up.

----

Once the activities for the day in the hospital ended, you returned to the castle. 

Your brain had memorized these never ending and stony halls, their echo drowned your steps as you approached your room.

Nothing had prepared you for the sight in it.

"How come you've stopped painting, my lady?" Lucille's voice, ever soft and gentle echoed through, reaching for you in a warm embrace.

Your wide eyes, unbelieving, blurred with the emerging tears. Your breath hitched, uncomfortably tight in your throat, only to be released in a maudlin sob.

"Lucille!" tears flowed, your dam of sadness opened, as you ran to meet her in a soul crushing hug.

Lucille's heart sunk as soon as you hugged her, sobbing like a hurt and scared little child in her loving embrace. Now she regretted not being even harsher with her words towards Miguel. Your heartbreak oozed from every pore of your trembling skin.

"There" She rubbed in soothing circles the lower of your back while letting you cry and stain her dress with your liquid pain.

Your repeated her name over and over, fearing she'd slip away from your grasp. Your pain had been squeezed tightly into a bottle until it was unable to be contained anymore, exploding with hurt, shame and other things you couldn't quite pinpoint at the moment.

"I've missed you so dearly, Lucille." your voice whimpered, unable to keep it steady thanks to the tightening lump in your throat. However her sudden appearance meant your letter was delivered and she had came to fetch you.

"I've missed you too, princess. Your mother misses you greatly."

Your hands wiped your tears and with a handkerchief you wiped your nose, " She'll miss me no more. Are you ready to leave? I thought my letter hadn't reached the queen, but you're here! We can go!"

" My lady-"

"I can't be here another day, Lucille. Help me pack up so I can deliver my letter to the king and get this over with."

In a haste, you let her embrace go and went to your closet, tossing all the remaining dresses to the bed. A good chunk of your clothes were already packed in the same bags they came.

But her stillness, dulled all that sudden excitement in a go.

"Lucille?" your brows furrowed confused, "Help me out, please."

"My lady-"

"Please." You pleaded and her heart sunk deeper. It wouldn't be easy by all means what she was about to attempt. She didn't know the extent of the damage the king had inflicted. But by your reaction it was more than enough to understand it had been worse than she had imagined.

"Please, Lucille. Help me pack up so we can go home."

"Come." She instructed, but your reluctance ran rampant that moment.

"No! I don't want to stay here! I don't want to stay knowing there is someone else in his bed, sharing his body, his everything! I don't!" your voice broke as you spilled it all, finally letting the anguish to settle and ground, "Don't make me stay and marry him, I beg you!"

"I'm not forcing you to marry, my lady. I am against all the dishonesty trailing after him, but I am a firm believer of listening before making decisions."

"That whore said enough. And I had enough."

"My lady." Lucille's tone stern and this made you recoil your gaze away, "Do you remember one of your mother's principles? The most important one."

Your head bobbed slightly and your fingers wiped the tears again, "D-Do not make decisions based on your current emotions."

"As they might come back to haunt you later." Lucille sighed and approached, placing her soft and caring hands on your trembling shoulders, "My lady. I know you are hurting. And you have all the right to do so and not say a word to the king. But," She paused, threading her words carefully, "Don't you think, it's obvious everything that woman said to you was a lie? Her intention of harming was more than clear when you faced her."

"That doesn't erase the fact he never told me about her."

"True. Wouldn't you like to know why? From the source itself?"

Angry breaths slowly turned into mellowed huffs while you sat on the edge of the bed. "I... How can I know he'll say the truth this time? I can't trust him."

"Men like him think they can carry a lie for so long, but in truth it only makes them terrible liars, so they have no choice but to speak the truth, as uncomfortable as it is."

"You've been meeting him, haven't you?" Although your eyes narrowed, Lucille nodded.

"I have, yes. And he's desperate to have you back, dear. I mean, he fetched me from Theleria and has been interrogating me the past two days. Your mother was severely alarmed when his soldiers arrived."

Lucille chuckled upon remembering your mother's threats to Miguel before she saw her off.

"You don't have to forgive him. Just listen to what he has to say and then, when you have both sides of the truth, you may take a decision."

Although your heart wished and wanted to be the proud one in this situation, you knew that, as usual, Lucille was right. But new questions popped in your brain.

For how long did Dana had been planning this? How many mistresses did he have?

All of them, or at least most of them could be answered if you gave Miguel a hearing.

With a deep sigh and a dramatic plop of your body on the mattress, you let out a blasé grunt.

"Just for the sake of my own peace, I'll concede him the right to a hearing."

-----

"Baron D'Angelo!" Kingpin exclaimed, thrilled to see the gaunt man under his roof. The latter only watched the big sovereign with curious and mistrusting eyes.

The road trip had been long enough. A horse and a guard were assigned to him by the corrupt king himself, leading to their current location. However the guard, had refused to reveal their ubiety to him, as he'd been only hired to ensure his safe arrival.

Kingpin patted his shoulders gently, "I know what is like to lose everything in a moment, my friend. I'm deeply sorry for the slaughter of your family."

He didn't know if sarcasm dripped off his tongue, or he was as blunt as everyone made him to be.

"Hope the trip went went and my agent behaved?"

Darko nodded and soon was led to another room by the big man. For having such news delivered, Kingpin oozed with high spirits.

Kingpin led him through a set of stairs to finally reach an elevator, that creaked under their weight. The lever was pulled down and with an agonizing shriek, the gears turned, making a descend a couple of floors lower.

The Fisk's banner were perched in every corner and turn they gave. The Humidity and stuffiness of the somber milieu only added even more charm to the already eldritch place. Both men turned and Kingpin lit up a nearby lamp.

They finally reached a sturdy oak and iron door, Erunia's royal emblem engraved within its surface. An enormous hand pressed against a nicked brick nearby, activating the door's mechanism with a loud creak. The door swung open, leaving a gust of dust and dirt in it's wake.

The first thing Darko noticed was the secret room, where men dressed up in dark cloaks and foreign faces stared his way. Faces that undoubtedly harbored nothing but hatred, unfinished businesses and many other dern things that spoke in a universal language and resumed into one thing. The need of vengeance.

Vendetta in its purest and unalloyed form against a common enemy. The Red King.

As soon as Kingpin sat, he instructed the Baron to also seat at the end of the round table, a spot reserved for none else but him, in an implicit welcome to this clandestine and dark brotherhood.

"My friends, the Baron here, just experienced first hand the wrath of that madman. He slaughtered and burned his family and his home." Kingpin spoke and some of the attendees' countenances grew somber at the revelation. "For how long must we allow such wickedness?"

"The Red King never left. My daughter... Dana." He put the jar full of the remnants of his beloved and favorite offspring on the table, earning some alarmed looks his way, "She was the one that brought him back, at extent of her life." Darko spoke, feeling the knot tightening within his throat, constricting his upcoming broken words, but the man on his right spoke before he could broke before them all.

"Rest assured, friend, that madman has his days counted." Spoke Kraven in his thick accent with nothing but a hopeful promise behind.

"We've been starting our scouting a couple of months ago, our insiders tell us that he is soon to marry. Is that true?"

"It is." Darko scowled, derision in his face at the sudden image of you that appeared in his brain, " He's marrying the daughter of that Thelerian witch, Dhalia Blanchard."

Kraven looked particularly irked and this other man, sneered his way.

"Got your prize snatched out of hands, Kraven?"

"Shut up, stupid bird." The hunter sneered in Adrian's direction. Adrian Toomes.

The Vulture as he liked to call himself, one of the most wanted thieves in Arachne, tittered with a hint of amusement behind.

"Boys, enough." Kingpin warned as he clasped his hands together, "What else can you tell us about that princess?"

"She's the head of the medical division in Arachne." The sudden voice of the same teen that met Darko in his despair, approached, emerging from the shadows, looking with his usual soul piercing gaze at the Baron. Seizing him with the haughtiness proper of a double agent.

"Gonzalo Morales, my boy in the flesh!" Wilson sing sung, happy to see his best double agent again. The boy stood partially in the lights, revealing his young yet hardship knowing face.

"The king trusts her, to the point of giving her a whole lab for her experiments. She was the one that patched up the king after Rhino injured him and his men."

There was a proud huff from within the room. And this new information only piqued the corrupt king's interest even further.

"Does this princess knows about that madman's heart condition, boy?"

"That I wouldn't know for sure, my lord. But at this point, I believe it's a matter of time she is acquainted with the issue."

"She does not know nothing about Arachne! Yet the king gave her a chance with the council. She might have fooled them, but not me." Darko seethed and spat, "Because of that harlot my daughter got replaced and killed!"

"Not to offend you and whatever's left from her, Baron." G pointed at the jar, "But it was an unrealistic expectation you bestowed upon her. King O'Hara never took her in consideration for such thing, she was his fuck toy at best." Gonzalo spoke, earning a fulminant look from Darko.

"How dare you?!" The Baron roared, but a tall, bald black armored man stood. Hands dressed in sharp silver and purple claws, ready to strike if needed.

"Easy there, Aaron." Kraven chuckled, earning a condescending glare from the alluded.

"Now, now, boy. Don't be so harsh on the Baron. He is mourning. Let him breathe and watch that language!." Kingpin warned, sapping the rising anger that echoed in the hiden and stony walls of the war room.

A man dressed up in a desert robes remained quiet, watching the scene unfold while toying with one of his sand pouches, as an armored in spikes mercenary devoured an apple in a few bites. Flint Marko wasn't one for speaking unless necessary. But his talents with the sand alchemy was something Fisk couldn't ignore, as it was exactly what he needed for the future.

And Rhino couldn't truly care less at the moment.

"Your daughter's sacrifice won't be in vain, that's for sure. But you must understand that once you join us, either death or victory are the only options in this table, Baron D'Angelo." Kingpin warned, earning a knowing look from the hurting nobleman.

"I've been carrying within this jar, the only child capable of approaching the king and bring that madman back to the table, sir." He took a deep breath and looked at said ivory container, "I saw the ruins of my home burned to ash and soot, I might have even stepped in my other children without intending, as there was nothing left of them but dust."

Darko's eyes turned colder than a block of ice, "I assure you, I've got nothing else left to lose, my lord."

A proud smile stretched in Wilson's face, just like the rest.

"Any activities in mind you'd like to participate, Baron?"

"Let me dispose of the princess, my lord."

And Kingpin nodded. His plan of a decade slowly, grew and took fruition.

"The Sinister Six welcome you, Darko D'Angelo. I promise you, in no time, we'll see the light of a new order in this continent. Lets us all hope The Red King is dethroned successfully."

-----

Miguel's hands trembled as his eyes reread the piece of scroll, over and over. He could recite those words by memory if someone asked him to, and would even go into aesthetic details on each letter if needed.

The princess has agreed to give you a hearing.

-Lucille

May heavens forever bless the woman and her tongue for achieving what he miserably failed a long time ago.

Not only had she prevented you from going right away, but also turned the tables in his favor. All he had to do now was to make a run for his money and speak from the heart if there was a chance, as remote and tiny as it was, to keep you here, with Arachne.

With him.

He had another chance to speak what his hands have been scribbling to no end in several pages, ever since the silence fell upon you both. He gave you space, mostly out of fear of your well deserved rejection and icy glare, the only look that actually stirred several shades of discomfit in his heart.

The Festival of Embers rang through his memories, since it was today. Jessica had helped him to prepare the place at the pond you had invited him over lunch.

Only his mind, however, knew what laid inside the pages he had tucked in within his coat. If they were to burn in the cleansing fire, there was no need for anyone to peek into his mind.

With a last huff, he wrote a quick note and sent Margo to deliver it immediately. Then ordered for the horses to be ready at once.

When alone again, he served himself a glass of liqueur and downed it in a go, in a stupid attempt of waning his nerves. His heart beat, erratic as usual, pounded heavily within his strong ribcage.

Powerful pumps, resonating through his torso, invigorating his morale to do his damnedest to keep you here, even though the beast within urged him, demanded even to go to your room and tie you to the bed, if that meant to keep you by his side. Ruling in tandem with him.

But he wouldn't do such thing, even though his mind and every fiber in his body screamed at him to fight. To claim you and chain you if needed. Cause his heart couldn't bear the mere thought of you leaving.

No. That was just that dark side of him speaking. He'd respect whatever choice you'd go for, even if it means to see you walking back to Theleria forever.

A little too late Miguel realized Peter's presence, watching him curiously while the coppery taste bloomed in his mouth. 

Miguel had been biting his lip a bit too hard enough to draw blood.

"You'll be fine. Just tell her the truth as it is."

The commander spoke, confident his advice would succeed, yet amused to see his friend a nervous wreck as he paced around his office.

"What if she leaves?"

"Ask her to not." Peter shrugged

"You make it sound so easy"

"Whenever MJ is angry at me, honesty and actual regret helps, even if the thing she got angry at me is little. Don't dismiss her feelings although they make you uncomfortable."

Miguel ran a hand through his hair and sighed, defeated. And when Ben came to inform the horses were ready, his heart sunk.

With a last look on the mirror, he strapped the sword to his hip and walked towards your room. Each step closer only increased the suffocating need to run and apologize through a letter.

But neither that would work and neither he was a coward. Who would've guessed his biggest challenge was to ask for forgiveness when it was usually the opposite? His fallen enemies surely would laugh in delight to see him like this. Anxious, hands trembling, bile menacing to rise up his throat and unsure of his rehearsed words, over a woman.

The Red King was nervous because of you.

His hands tightened into fist as his presence was announced to you. And for the first time in what felt like forever, his eyes took in the sight of you.

Beautiful as ever, even if melancholy refused to leave your countenance. That spark he loved to see in those gorgeous eyes of yours, was gone. Completely sapped away from your system.

Just dull, saddened and pretty eyes that tore their gaze from him when he crossed the threshold.

"The horses are ready" he cleared his throat after the first syllable came out trembling, "Follow me, please."

Lucille draped a cloak around your shoulders and you obeyed. He walked slowly to ensure you were following him, the urge to turn around and face you was greater than any urge he felt through his veins.

The horses awaited, and once you both reached them, he had his men help you up. Their looks settled on him, hopeful. He had the implicit support of his people. With a soft whip, you both galloped away.

-----

How could your heart be still after seeing him for the first time in weeks? He didn't look that different, maybe his eye bags a bit more prominent, and tiredness clinging to every inch of his skin.

You couldn't read him. You couldn't deduct what ran through his mind, and that settled you right in the very beginning.

To your surprise, he led you to that very same spot you had invited him over lunch, prepared with things like a bonfire.

He hopped off his horse and approached you, leaving no space for refusing his help to come down the beast.

Miguel's heartbeat skipped when the warmth irradiating from your skin, kissed his hands. He had touched you again. You were real and still remained here before him.

For how long though?

A dry gulp ran down his throat as he invited you to sit, his hands removed his own cloak, but you remained within yours as ir shielded you from everything, even him.

"Thank you for, uh... the chance of a hearing, Princesa."

His voice almost a whisper while he threw a couple of dry tweaks to the fire. It's cracking welcoming, soothing and filling those awkward moments of silence.

The title felt odd your ears, foreign and distant, unlike the first time he explained it's meaning to you.

"I agreed only for the sake of having a bit of peace in my head, sir."

The first stab was flawlessly delivered and he did nothing but to accept it. With a sigh, he tried again.

"I know my presence is everything but welcomed before you, Princesa. But I believe I owe you an explanation, Don't I?"

"You believe?" The coldness in your voice only made him flinch inwardly and swallow hard the tightening knot forming uo his throat. This was a combat he wasn't prepared for. He was losing, big time against you.

He put his hands up in defense. All his rehearsed words forgotten. His shaky hands rubbed his face a bit too rough before speaking again.

"I'm sorry." His eyes bore into yours, as a chill ran down your spine upon his words ringing true, despite the amount of mistrust inhabiting in your heart at the moment.

"I should've... informed myself of your customs. I should've known so many things to avoid hurting you like this. Should've paid more attention to your diary-"

"You... You what!?"

Fuck.

His heart nearly stopped functioning as soon as those words flew out of his mouth, this was precisely why he always rehearsed his words. His heart however gave him a painful beat as you stood abruptly, leaving.

"No, No! Princesa, wait!"

Everything was crumbling around him, he hadn't even apologized and was already destroying any chance left of winning you back.

"Princesa!" He scrambled to his feet but tripped in one of the tree's roots, falling to his knees as his hands grabbed you wrist, forcing you to look at him.

"Let me go!" You hiccuped, unable to keep the tears at bay thanks to this new trespassing.

You had brought him to his knees, something his enemies could only dream of.

Ignoring your pleas of freedom and soft yanks from his arms, he pulled you down to his chest, caging you within his strong arms, with zero intentions of letting you go despite your wriggling.

"You're a liar! And were invading my privacy!"

He nodded as he cradled your trembling form closer, finally taking a proper taste of your shaky frame. Frail, full of heavy sorrows, thanks to none else but him.

"I am. I should've... tell you about this. I shouldn't have read such thing."

"Please let me go, sir" You begged harder, unwilling to bask in his sudden wave of bold affection. His hand cradled your head with such care he though you'd break even further.

"I won't. Not until you listen to me, mi vida."

Even if kneeling he swallowed you whole, the hurting in his knees was nothing compared to the aches of your heart.

"Why I would trust-"

"Dana is dead."

Those words alone made you still, and his hand tangled with utter care in the strands of your hair. Keeping you in place, right above his heart for your ears to hear how it called and ached for more of you.

"I... I killed her" there wasn't sadness in his voice when he mentioned the wretched woman, "Everything she said to you was a lie."

"I want to believe you, my lord but-"

"Even way before you came I hadn't seen her. Almost a year had gone by before she tried to lay with me. She wqs threatened because you arrived."

He allowed you a bit of room to breath, then cupped your face and wiped the tears himself.

"But the kingdom has always been my priority. I never, and I mean it. Never attempted to have heirs with her."

"Did you love her?"

"No. Never." He shook his head, unable to break his eye contact with you. "But I was a fool to keep her around. I know much."

He placed your hands in his chest.

"And as I kept denying her, she thought it was a good idea to target you. And that is a mistake I'll always regret. Because I've made you cry."

His eyes were full of that same sorrow that invaded you, regret written all over his face.

"I've hurt you with my lies, without a doubt." His thumb stroked your cheek and his chest heaved a deep sigh.

"But I know that if I let you go back to Theleria, everything I've worked for will be for naught. Please, allow me to share my dream with you, Princesa."

His chin rested ontop of your head and you gasped for air as a new wave of tears spilled down your flushed cheeks.

"I don't want to share you, my lord."

"You won't" His forehead collided against yours softly, placing a chaste kiss on the side of your head. Peppering you with butterfly kisses as his hand kept caressing your head.

"I don't ever want to feel I am competing against others for your attention."

"You've never competed, mi vida. Never." His lips kissed now your tears and cheek.

"Then why you kept her around?!"

"Cause I was stupid. It wasn't for love or anything like that. I didn't know what to do at the time with her. But she'll never hurt you again."

Every kiss he put in your skin sent a delicious spark through your spine, nerves soaring with joy, and his words kept melting and destroying that impromptu wall you had tried to guard your heart with. But their weak foundations crumbled with every caress he gave you.

"You're the future queen of Arachne, Princesa. My wife to be. Mine."

Your heart could barely stand such joy, and the light-headedness slowly took over your brain. And when his hand took your left hand, your body trembled.

He pulled a little ring from his inside pockets, the fire roared with a powerful flame, yet it barely could match the resolution burning in his chest.

"I have no intentions of letting you go." The golden band hugged your finger perfectly. As if he knew the measurements of each finger of your nimble limb.

"Will you forgive me?"

His lips hovered over yours, ready to taste heaven. And when you nodded, he kissed you with a gutural groan rumbling through his chest.

Your lips were claimed. Kissed and revered, the ambrosial taste of them only ebbed him to deepen the kiss by keeping your nape in place.

For once the kingdom didn't matter, his rules didn't apply to him and his mind was solely focused on you. His bride to be, his future wife, the queen of his kingdom and the only one with all the categorical access to his bed. To him.

And just when you thought he'd break the kiss, he only took another gulp of air to slowly swirl his tongue inside your mouth, and your knees trembled.

Your first kiss. It was your first kiss you've ever shared with a man. Your future husband. And you never wanted it to stop, and by the urge of his movements, he neither. You wanted to kiss each other's until your lips bled. Until you could taste each other's souls.

His free hand roamed the lower of your back, memorizing each dent and curve, earning him a whimper. But he broke the kiss, cause if you kept making such delicious noises he wouldn't hesitate to take you right there.

And he wanted it to make it special. He wanted to give you all his adoration and engrave all his passion in every single inch of your body. And as tortuous as it was, he'd wait for the wedding night.

"This is your home now, mi reina. You're not going anywhere. Understood?"

You could only watch him with dazed eyes, before he devoured your lips again.

He was yours and yours alone.

----

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@mcmiracles   @xxvelvetxxxx  @arrozyfrijoles23 @del-ightfulling @miss-canon-event

[royal-apple-cider-martini]

Bless @lucifer-imaginaryfriend for making this adorable comic of pregnant Lucifer and his two comforting boyfriends Husk and Angel Dust 👑 🍎🍺🍸

[ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater]

Stolen Dance - Yuji Itadori x Reader

Taking a small break from my two Sukuna series to publish this, it's been on my mind for a while especially with tangled Kingdom Dance brainrot (tangled is by far my favourite disney movie) and I just wanted to write some fluffy Yuji to go with it ❤️

Part of my Royal AU

Warnings: None

Word count: 2.2k

“Prince Yuji!” You whisper loudly, “Do not make me do this, you know I never learned to dance!” He looks back at you, still clutching your hand in his with a frighteningly disarming smile on his face that breaks down any argument you had almost instantaneously. “It’s ok, I’m pretty clumsy too, but that’s alright,” He says brightly.

You blush as he squeezes your hand, “I must insist your highness, it is most improper of you to be dancing with someone of my standing!” You hiss. He stops pulling you, looking you up and down briefly. The ball was for his brother, Crown Prince Choso, on his twenty first birthday, and you were a commoner from the town, your father working as a blacksmith and your mother a tailor.

“Who says so?” He tilts his head in such an innocent fashion that your heart breaks slightly. You’ve been friends with the Itadori prince since you were young, your parents were not of high status but your mother was the best dressmaker in Khoccadia, so Yuji’s mother, the queen, called on her often for measurements and orders of extravagant dresses.

You’d often gone with her as her assistant, even when you were young, and she spent an awful lot of time teaching you things you would have learned in school if you’d been allowed to go. When you were not needed during these palace appointments you found yourself in the company of Kaori’s second son, Yuji Itadori.

It has been a fair few years, just shy of thirteen, since you first met him at six years old apiece peeking around his mother’s skirts, your hands clutching a basket of your mother’s sewing implements with her tape measure hanging from your shoulder. Your own dress at the time was a modest pale pink colour, not too different from the colour of his hair, and it was the first thing he noticed and spoke to you about.

“Yuji be reasonable, I am not the daughter of a lord, I am the daughter of a blacksmith and a tailor, if we are seen together in such a public setting-” He cuts you off by stepping closer and using his free hand to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. You fall silent, a blush settling on your cheeks, “Why should I care what they think?” He murmurs, “You’re my friend, and I’m the prince, I should be allowed to dance with whoever I want,”

“It is precisely because you are the prince that we cannot,” You reply softly, looking away from his hand, “I… I cannot bear the thought of so many eyes on me, especially when most of them belong to princesses who would be right at home in your arms in a ballroom,” You feel him shift and look back to see him on one knee before you, his free hand against his heart and still clutching your own.

He looks up at you after taking a deep breath, “Y/n L/n, will you do me the honour and allow me to have your first dance?” You press your free hand to your mouth, a tear slips down your cheek and lands on your dress. This one was made and gifted to you by your mother, a beautiful f/c dress with lacy white flowers embroidered along the bottom hem, slightly off the shoulder with a modest necklace to match, and is definitely fitting of a ballroom of such grandeur.

You see your mother’s soft smile in your head, imagine what she would say if she saw you right now standing in the candlelit hallway with the second prince of your kingdom on one knee, practically begging for you to let him take you back to the ballroom and dance with him. With a deep and shaking breath you let your hand fall to your side, clutching at the skirts of your dress, “You… would seek to steal my first dance like a common thief,” You say, your voice wobbly but your head held high.

He smirks, a wicked thing that sends electricity down your spine, “Oh but I am no thief, my lady, I am but a humble man who wishes to dance with a beautiful girl on a beautiful night, will you be so cruel as to deny me my wish?” The hand that was behind his back is revealed to your eyes suddenly, something resting on his palm as he offers it to you, “Will you go to the ball with me?”

It’s a small bundle of f/c flowers, a wrist corsage with matching ribbons and some intermittent leaves that bring the piece together. You cover your mouth again, tears slipping from your eyes, and he is on his feet in an instant, pulling out his handkerchief and gently swiping the tears away while being careful not to squish the flowers, “Do not cry my lady, it does not befit someone of such beauty,” He murmurs.

“I cry only for you, my sweet prince,” You murmur, “For your heart is as pure as a dewdrop on a rose, your smile as bright as chimes in the wind, I seek only for you to be happy, and if this will make you happy…” You trail off, offering him your wrist, “Then we shall return to the ball together,” He ties the corsage to your wrist with gentle fingers that brush your skin like downy chick feathers, your heart is surely thumping hard enough to be heard from the roof.

Once done he offers you an elbow and you loop your arm through, holding him tightly as your nerves skyrocket. “Allow me to be your knight in shining armour, my lady, I will not leave your side until you declare you are too tired to continue dancing, then I shall escort you to your front door,” You open your mouth to insist he doesn’t have to but before you can he pushes open a door and the sounds of the ball wash over the pair of you.

“After you my lady,” He says, holding the door open as you step past him into the warmth. Once you are inside he is pulling you to the dancefloor with slightly less vigour than he was pulling you through the halls before, and you see him exchange a wink with the band at the end of the hall. The music is quick to change to something light and airy, the rest of the couples spreading out slightly and you take your place in the line of women, standing across from him.

You can already feel the eyes burning through your dress, seeing through your disguise, but he locks his eyes onto yours and you find you cannot look away. This is one dance you can admit you do know, for it is a more traditional one that you have danced with your mother in her sewing room as she seeks distraction from her work, but you did not know Yuji knew it too.

You suspect his wordless exchange with the band has something to do with it, you’re sure they wouldn’t have played this had he not asked, and as the dance begins you find yourself swept in in the tide of people, dancing with anyone and everyone until you reach Yuji at the climax and stay with him until the end, just as every other couple.

You find yourself to be a little out of breath when the song is over and the band’s tone melts into something slower, his arm slipping tighter around your waist and the other sliding up your side to direct your corsage wrist out to the side, lacing his fingers with yours, “Just follow my lead, trust me,” He murmurs, seeing the slight distress in your eyes.

Your torso is pressed up against his, you can feel every button on his jacket and every ridge of his belt, even through your worn-out corset that has really seen better days. Your breath hitches as he starts to move, your free hand finally finding it’s place over his shoulder and resting on the back of his neck, “Yuji, I-” “Shhh,” He murmurs, leaning forwards slightly until his lips are just above your ear, still moving with the music, “You’re safe in my arms, nobody but me can touch you, alright?”

He peeks down at you, “You trust me, right?” Flustered, you struggle to reply at first, but he continues speaking, “When you’re not focused on your feet, you can easily pass for someone who’s had a few lessons,” He’s right, you haven’t been focusing on the movements at all and neither of you has tripped or embarrassed the other.

His grip on your waist tightens slightly as you miss a step, “Hey, focus on me, not on your feet, don’t go ruining your perfect streak just because of something I said,” His lips curl into a lopsided smile, charming and disarming all at once as you fall back into step with him instinctively.

You can hardly call these movements dancing, but nobody else is in a hurry to dance extravagantly so you fit right in among the other couples. “Happy birthday brother,” Yuji nods over your shoulder but you don’t turn your head for the lingering fear of tripping. “Thank you Yuji,” You hear the low rumble of Prince Choso beyond you, and soon he passes into the corner of your eye with a lovely blonde woman in his arms, “It is good to see you well Miss L/n,” He nods to you and you feel yourself flush under his gaze.

“Th-thank you your highness,” You reply cordially, “I trust you are also well?” He smiles softly, “I am happy when my brothers are happy, so yes, I am well,” He glances at Yuji who noticeably blushes for the first time tonight, “Be sure she arrives home safely now brother,” Choso says somewhat sternly before he and his dance partner drift off into the crowd once more.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you,” You hear Yuji murmur which brings your gaze back to his face from where you were following Choso’s departure. His face is soft, his cheeks relaxed and you see a light in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. Or perhaps you have, deep in the palace gardens, in your mother’s studio, in front of a huge ornate fireplace in some forgotten lounge room of the palace on a rainy day tucked beneath piles of blankets.

You’re reminded of many moments spent looking into his eyes and seeing an outpouring of unfiltered affection, and suddenly you find yourself overwhelmed. You press further into him, leaning your head sideways against his shoulder as his hand lets yours go and he holds you by your waist, your other arm tucking around his neck too, “Oh Yuji,” You whisper.

He softly shushes you, “I’m not letting you go, I promise,” The music dies away slightly and changes tune again and he is quick to lead you from the dancefloor, his hand staying firmly in yours even under the scrutiny of his father who seems to be able to seek you out no matter where you stand, “Yuji… will you take me home?” You ask once you’re out of the majority of the crowd.

He nods, “Of course my lady,” And the pair of you make the trek to the palace stables where he picks out the sweetest horse for you, a grey mare called Blossom, and then lifts you easily onto her back. You shift until you’re seated comfortably in the side-saddle, afraid of ruining your dress should you sit properly, and he is by your side on his beautiful brown stallion, who you heard him call Ace, before you notice he’s gone.

“Comfortable?” He asks, as if the saddle wasn’t specifically designed for a lady’s comfort in mind, “Let us be off,” The ride is spent deep in wondrous conversation about many things, important and mundane, and when your home is in sight your mother is in the doorway with her hand against her heart, waving happily, “Oh thank goodness you made it here safely!” She says, “A thousand thanks your highness, for bringing my daughter back unharmed,”

Yuji dismounts and then walks to your side, lifting you off your horse with his hands on your hips, “It was nothing Miss L/n, please, just call me Yuji,” “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” You offer quietly, brushing your skirts off slightly as one of his hands lingers on your waist. “How could I refuse?” He smiles down at you, “Lead the way,”

And if, that night, you ended the night by kissing the second prince of Khoccadia, then you were surely dreaming. But if he asked for your hand in marriage not a week later, were you still dreaming? And when your father gave his blessing, was that also a dream?

Your wedding day, more than you could ever hope for and born from a stolen dance, simply could not have been a dream you concluded. Nothing in your wildest imagination could ever compare to the beauty and happiness of that day, and in his arms you knew that nothing could come between you ever again. There was not a single title nor social standing that could come between your prince and his first love.

Hope you enjoyed this, I wrote it all in like two hours when the brainrot took over :))

also because I'm a sucker for yuji+choso sibling fanart please go look at this one by poyopaan here on Tumblr, yes I am starting the fanart thing i said I would before ❤

[cryptidcorners]

Alright. Before I post my fics today. I have to share a mini AU I made lol. So, I HC that Derek bleached his hair blond to appeal to his mom (because he had dark hair like this dad, and I'm pretty sure Jessica hated him, lol.) so Im just imagining:

What if his dad never died? Hell, what if his mom did?

So. I'm just thinking of Derek with dark hair and red clothes to match. I honestly don't think he'd be too far off to his canon self, only I believe he'd have a larger ego — and 10x more dorky. I don't imagine his father to be any better than Jessica was.

So, uh, just imagining this:

Also one of my friends said that he'd wear gold accessories too. I'm going crazy, lmfao. Might draw this later. Anywho, here's your daily brainrot once again.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

The 👑Royal SeaWing! Reader will be moss green with pearl green Aquatic signs, and their name will be Pearl!

Now, they are whatever gender the reader is, and are not purely masculine or feminine, they are themself, and they are a royal SeaWing animus😊🌊🐠

[jotatetsuken]

meant to be — chapter 1: are you mine?

features: kate sharma!atsumu miya x anthony bridgerton!f!reader (also featuring edwina sharma!osamu miya)

trope: enemies to lovers, forbidden love, possible love triangle | type of writing: oneshot | final dish for: @romiyaro (a very belated birthday present for you) <3 | setting: royal au, bridgerton!au

warnings: implications of arranged marriage, fem! reader, reader wears corset, possible anxiety attack in the beginning of the fic, implications of political relations, mentions of infidelity, mentions of gambling, gossip. please lmk if i miss any tags <3

song: r u mine? - arctic monkeys | wc: 4462

submission for: @bokutosmochi’s 9 years of AM collab (thank you so much for organizing this collab :') )

beta reading: @lou-struck @portfolio-of-dreams @izukunii (y'all have no idea how y'all make my day, thank you so so much <33)

networks: @tokyometronetwork @hanayanetwork @downtown-roponggi

prompt: “If you don't put the kitchen utensils where they go, then you're not allowed to complain about it later.” - @sleepyprompts

a/n: finally! the first chapter is here!! so so exciting!! i especially thank you two, @ceo-of-daichi and @mrskenmakozume for agreeing with me to include you two in my fic. 💕 i hope everyone of you enjoy reading this chapter as i enjoyed writing this. if you're unable to understand any term, the glossary should give you an idea <33 i have more than 100 followers lol, but i thought it best to write these requests whenever possible <333.

also, likes, comments and especially reblogs are appreciated <33

Made with Love: 100 Followers Event (closed) | MWL Masterlist

masterlist | glossary | chapter two

Blank. Your mind had gone blank, as you couldn't hear the voices of your surroundings. All you could hear was your heart beating and your heavy breathing. Maybe you hear the occasional screams and sneers in your head. Your heart was thumping to the point where it felt like it was going to pop out of your rib cage. You were having trouble breathing, and you felt something snap on your back as you quietly yelled, “Ow!” as you forcefully came out of your panic reverie. 

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Your sister-in-law, Lady Kiyoko, the Countess of Karasuno, inquired calmly, sensing that you were sweating and your hands were getting clammy. All of you were at The SatTen Thread, with the Modiste, Satori Tendou, trying to fit you into the corset he’d prepared just for you, and had just yanked the laces of the corset. The corset was stitched well enough to tighten you in the right places, elevating your bust. The fact that this was causing you slight discomfort caused your eyebrows to be pulled down, your nose to be wrinkled, the lips to be loose, with the upper one being pulled up, and the eyes narrowing. “Is the corset too tight, ma cherie?” Satori inquired as you shook your head in denial, breathing heavily. “It’s not about that, monsieur, it’s just,” you continue, sighing, “I just don’t see the point of this really.” You were not exactly lying. 

It was not about the corset at all, but the ordeal that was bothering you. You really did not see the point of dressing up, promenading with different suitors, being an active part of the season to impress the eyes of the ton, especially when you’re at the age of six and twenty. However, what was more daunting for you (and you did not want to show that on your face,) was the idea of meeting a potential suitor at this season’s inaugural event, the Inarizaki Beautillion Ball.

It is said that for the past two years, the King, Keishin Ukai, wanted to shake up the season by inviting the gentlemen from the ton and declaring a beautillion ball to see who would be the season’s “Blue Sapphire,” the highest prestige bestowed upon the concerned nobleman by the King, and the most eligible bachelor for this season, in addition to having the season’s “Diamond,” the same applying to women.

One day, the King was walking along the corridors with Lord Ojiro, the Prince of Inarizaki, who was organizing the said Beautillion Ball, when he remarked, “I yearn for someone fresh, someone unexpected, to turn the season on its head. That is what we need. There is no room for indifference. Apathy is a blight the monarchy simply cannot endure, especially when it comes to choosing this year’s ‘Blue Sapphire’. ” 

Ojiro nodded  and replied, “True, Your Majesty, but a young gentleman cannot be a Blue Sapphire unless you anoint him as such. When you started the tradition of choosing the ‘Blue Sapphire’ along with the ‘Diamond,’  the ton obviously did not take it too kindly. But in the last two seasons, they’ve noticed that while we do look into the most eligible suitor, our “Diamond,” from the noblewomen, we’re establishing equal opportunity and doing so for the men as well, keeping a more watchful eye over them. So if for any reason you do not find one among the candidates today—”

King Keishin rolled his eyes and continued, “—then Lord Whistledown would surely cause a stir in his pieces of paper. We have heard nary a peep from him since last season ended. In retrospect, the writer may have realized that taking on his king was a bad idea, and he made the decision never to publish again. Or,” the King continued as he shrugged, “He simply went to the country, as the rest of us did in the off-season, bored by the lack of any real gossip. Do you know what that would make him?” Both of them scowl when they realize it, and remark at the same time, “One of us.”

This year, the Beautillion Ball was being organized by Prince Ojiro, who had earned a good reputation amongst the ladies after he came back from Tokyo after a couple of successful business ventures. He was a man of good repute, and his connections could propel opportunities for the Kingdom to advance into the waves of modern society. 

You realized that you had to use this opportunity to look your prettiest, should you find a suitor there. However, no one knew that you had a secret side of you that only lurked in the early mornings, within the pages of books, and when you played pall-mall and cricket. The modern era would call you a “tomboy” in the truest sense, and you would agree, but it was surely safe to say that you were not for this era. Besides, you didn’t see the point of the corsets other than to make you feel, well, uncomfortable about yourself. 

“You know,” your other sister-in-law, Lady Lydia interjected as she was looking at herself in the mirror as she was wearing the new yellow empire waistline dress that the modiste made especially for her, “It isn’t really that bad. I mean, since your brothers were last year’s Blue Sapphires and—” You interrupted her by saying, “—they’re doing just fine.” You nodded, responding, “I know. I mean, my eldest brother Daichi got to marry you, and that’s surprising in the eyes of the ton indeed,” with Lydia giggling, and a tint of blush hitting her rosy cheeks. 

You’d met Lydia, the now Duchess of Karasuno, at one of your closest friends', Lady Ella’s Ball, years ago. Ella had just become the Duchess of Nekoma, having married Lord Kenma, the Duke of Nekoma. You were Ella’s maid of honor, and Lydia was one of the bridesmaids. At first, something about her hairstyle confused you. She decided to have her hair be short and curly, and was even conjuring up plans to make a mullet.

However, you then get to know her free-spirited yet caring and empathetic nature. You also learned that when she took the leap of faith to change the way she looked, she was initially scared of what people would say about her haircut because her parents, who were not royalty, scolded her in terms of who would marry her, but then later she shrugged it off. 

You were so adoring of Lydia that you invited her to the first ever Beautillion Ball, where your eldest brother, Lord Daichi, the newly appointed Duke of Karasuno, was crowned that year’s “Blue Sapphire.” As her hazel eyes lay upon Daichi’s  dark brown irises, he was taken aback by her unconventional looks and eventually warmed up to her personality. While many people were against this union, you and Daichi fought for it to happen. 

Similarly, the following year, when Lord Ryuunosuke, the Earl of Karasuno, was named the Blue Sapphire, he already had his eyes set on his future wife: Lady Kiyoko of House Shimizu. However, it took his multiple attempts to be rejected by Kiyoko and a proposal from Lady Kanoka for her to see that he would never give up on her no matter what, and that’s how they got married. 

This year, as you, being the third eldest in the family, and also, this season’s “Diamond,” were now in line to get married, most of your family were excited to hopefully find your new suitor at the ball. However, there were some things holding you back from being truly excited about the regalia. As you were then trying on the new dress in the mirror, and how your coiffed hair complimented everything else, you thanked the modiste nevertheless for the outfit, and walked back to your carriage with Lydia and Kiyoko.

As you were being driven back home via the carriage, numerous thoughts drowned out the conversation your sisters-in-law were having with each other. You start to remember exactly why you went blank at the modiste. Your thoughts go back to the last season, at Ella’s Ball, where Lord Whistledown’s gossip sheet was spread around and it read: Dearest gentle reader, 

As the social season draws to a close, I personally would like to congratulate Lord Kenma, the Duke of Nekoma, and Lady Ella, the newly appointed Duchess of Nekoma, on their nuptials.  Even the most illustrious noblemen and noblewomen, however, are humbled by the one thing that humbles even the most illustrious members of the ton...scandals! A man with charm is entertaining, and a man with looks is, of course, a sight to behold, but a man with honor—ah, he is the one to whom the young ladies should flock, dear reader. This is not so true for the suitor betrothed to Karasuno’s eldest princess, Lady (L/N). How unfortunate it is that her husband-to-be, a nobleman himself, is a rake, because my sources tell me that he was caught sullying another woman, an Alisa Haiba, at his bachelorette party while he was engaged to the Princess. You didn’t think it would go unnoticed by me, did you? I assure you that this is a gentle reminder to not mess with me, because I have also learned that….”

Even as people were absorbing what was being written on the gossip sheet, everyone’s eyes turned to you. Despite showering you with love in the past, your future husband has always appeared shallow, self-centered, closed-off, and without regard for consequences. In fact, you were present that night when you witnessed your future husband, the Prince of Nekoma, being sullied by the aforementioned opera singer. When he turned to face you, he widened his eyes, as if he had been completely misunderstood. Perhaps it wasn't the truth, but it was what was reported, and you believed it. However, you were not the only one who was aware.  Lady Ella was with you when that happened. However, it occurred to you that you might want to speak with him privately and find out what really happened, because the word of men was favored over the word of women at the time. On the other hand, Lord Whistledown got wind of it, and the news spread like wildfire the next day. It especially hurt you that your family wouldn't let you marry him, let alone court him, so you closed your heart to any future romantic advances. 

You felt someone shake your shoulders as Lydia and Kiyoko got you out of your train of thought. As you three walked into the Karasuno Hall, you were able to hear the housekeeper scold the lady’s maids from a distance, “If you don't put the kitchen utensils where they go, then you're not allowed to complain about it later.” You looked at Lydia and Kiyoko and remarked, with a deep sigh, “Sorry girls, it’s just... After what happened last year, I’m certain that I’ll never find love, at least among the royalty. In this world we live in, in this timeline we live in, everyone is selfish, ruthless, cutthroat, and inconsiderate. So, let’s see if I find a suitor this week.”

“Yer got to be kidding me! ‘Samu!!”  Around the same time, a gruntled voice echoed down the corridors of the Inarizaki Hall, as a 6’2” tall, brown-eyed man with dark-brown hair, the top of which was dyed blonde, paced hurriedly to his twin brother’s room. “Osamu!” He entered the door to find his twin brother freaking out about the Beautillion Ball. Draped in black trousers, a white shirt, a silver waistcoat, and a black tailcoat with dark brown knee length boots, he stood in front of the mirror with a ragged breath. “ ‘Tsumu, I am scared. It’s happening here. The Ball is happening here. What if—” 

The elder twin sighed and placed his hand on Osamu’s shoulder. “ ‘Samu, breathe deeply. Please,” the elder twin, Atsumu requested, to which Osamu tried calming down, and he replied, “It would have been better if I was in Hyogo, ‘Tsumu. The business there was booming and—” Atsumu nodded in agreement, speaking in Kansai. “Yer right, ‘Samu, but think of Lord Kita for once. He had to acquire the throne at a young age, and we’re doing this to uphold our end of the word we made with him.” Osamu nodded, then turned to Atsumu, “I still find it surprising that you’re not the one being presented at the hall today, but I am. You’re clearly marriage material, ‘Tsumu.” 

Shaking his head in denial, Atsumu places his hands on Osamu’s shoulders, kissing his teeth and replying, “No, ‘Samu, ya are. I may be more handsome than you,” Atsumu then smirks, with Osamu rolling his eyes and both of them chuckling, “But, you are better than me, brother, in more ways than one. Besides, this gives me an opportunity to look out for you in a way.” 

Osamu then sighed, replying, “Okay, fine, I’ll be okay at the ball, as long as you’re here. As much as I like Rin, I don’t want to hear gossip about the ton all day long.” Atsumu then nods, chuckling. Both of them were adopted by the late King of Inarizaki before Lord Shinsuke of House Kita had to take over the incumbent throne. 

Atsumu, being unable to cope with the pain of losing the man that gave them a second chance at life, later gained a reputation for himself that made him less desirable in the eyes of the ton. Involving himself in promiscuous ways, gambling, and even playing cricket professionally, Atsumu never really cared too much for the throne. 

Through Lord Whistledown, Atsumu was being viewed as incompetent by everyone else, and so he didn't want his reputation to ruin his brother's chances in the marriage market. Despite them arguing with each other on pretty much everything, Atsumu was certain about one thing. He loved his brother very much and wanted what was best for him. 

The next morning of the beautillion ball, as you were riding a horse at dawn, with a quiet atmosphere around you. You couldn’t hear anything except for some ducks quacking, the leaves rustling, and the wind gushing, when a man whizzed past you, and you looked in his direction. Curious, you trot behind him, searching for those distant horse neighs. “Sir, are you in trouble?” You cried out as you searched for him, and as you rode along, that’s where you found him in the distance, riding ahead of you. He then turns to you, winks at you, and gallops away. You were all of a sudden taken back by how his face and his golden-dyed hair glistened in the sunlight, so you looked for him, only to find him in the distance, having exerted a bit too much energy.

“Enjoying your victory lap, is it?” You cry out, thus startling this man, causing him to utter something in Kansai. “You'll not be afforded such an ample head-start this time,” He snickered and responded, “Apologies, ma’am. It was not my intention to cause concern.” Humming, you inquire, “Does anyone know you are riding astride?” Chuckling, he responds, “Funnily enough, I was going to ask you the same thing. Besides, it’s rare that men’s reputations are questioned, unless—” You interject, “Unless you’re written by Lord Whistledown,” causing the both of you to chuckle. “Perhaps,” the fake blonde man continues, “What if we pretend this encounter never happened? Ya allow me to go my way, and ya go yers. Besides, I'm on my way back to Mayfair, where the Beautillion Ball is happening, and my presence is requested soon.”

You reply, “Ah, you worry about being seen,” and he responds, “I worry about meeting strange women in parks at dawn who refuse to leave me alone with their questions.” Keeping a finger on your lips, you continue, “Your secret is safe. I will not tell a soul.” He smiles and replies, “I am grateful to you. Additionally, losing races to strangers in such parks at dawn, I can only imagine the questions yer would be asked.” After a while, both of you spotted a group of guards on horseback. The man then turns the other way, screams, “Good day, ma’am,” and gallops back home, when you cry out, “Sir, I don’t think we’ve yet been introduced.” The man responds, “I am afraid that is not possible. Not when I have a victory lap to celebrate,” causing you to be particularly intrigued about this man as you cantered back home too.

It was finally time. The Day of the Inarizaki Beautillion Ball. An announcement was made as you entered the Ball, “Accompanied by the Prince of Karasuno, Lord Ittetsu of House Takeda, the Duchess of Karasuno, Lady Lydia of House Sawamura, and the Countess of Karasuno, Lady Kiyoko of House Tanaka, please welcome this season’s Diamond, the Princess of Karasuno, Lady (Y/N) (L/N)!” As you walked into the hall in your baby pink empire waistline dress from the modiste with a garnet studded headband and white gloves, you kept smiling as many men approached you and danced with you, King Keishin, King Shinsuke, and Prince Ojiro, observing every move.

As you were being kept on your toes and turned around by different noblemen, the music stopped and everyone came to a halt as another announcement was made. “Accompanied by His Highness, Prince Ojiro of House Aran, and Earl Rintaro Suna, please welcome The Miya Twins; the Duke of Inarizaki, Lord Atsumu Miya, and the Viscount of Inarizaki, Lord Osamu Miya.” Your gaze found Atsumu’s dark-brown irises as he saw you dancing with different noblemen. Tired, you excused yourself to get out of the hall to breathe in some fresh air.

Suddenly, you heard someone call your last name out. You turn to find a group of women approaching you. One of them remarks, “With you as the Diamond of the season, the rest of us shall receive a respite from the marriage-minded mamas this season, indeed,” causing all of you to chuckle. You then calm down, and smile, “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts. You, too, will soon submit to this ridiculous rigmarole of courtship, being squired by every eligible mister around town until you're barely able to see straight.”

To which another lady giggles, “Is one gentleman unlike any other? Let someone woo you into marriage, and be devoted to you for the rest of your life.” As you chuckle, you respond, “You may be cavalier, but if I must leg-shackle myself in marriage, the man in question should have more to recommend him.”

The other lady looks at you in confusion. “Do not tell us you are hoping for a love match?” To which you respond, “Love is the last thing I desire. If my children are to be provided for, if the family’s reputation is to be upheld and kept intact, then their father must be of impeccable quality. I don’t just need a pleasing face for a Prince Consort. I need an acceptable wit, genteel manners, and someone who’s affluent enough to be worthy of that position. Though it should not be hard to find, since the King will finally name a Blue Sapphire, saving me some trouble, at least of choosing him.”

As the other ladies chuckle and leave, you hear a rustling sound from the bushes, inquiring, “Is someone there? I can hear... you.” That is when you see the blond-haired man stand before you, bowing and apologizing, “Pardon me, Your Highness.” Approaching him, you respond, “I never got your name, until now at least, Duke Miya. I was wondering if we'd meet again.” Atsumu responded, scowling, “So you might discern if my wit is acceptable, my manners genteel?” With widened eyes, you inquire, “Were you eavesdropping, my lord? Also, do you take any issue with my requirements for a husband?” 

Laughing, Atsumu retorts, “It was hardly an effort, seeing as you were proclaiming your many requirements for a husband loud enough for the entire party to hear. Also, yes, I take issue with any woman who views men merely as banks to withdraw funds at will.” Before you could utter anything, he approached you, “Princess (L/N), yes? What makes you think he'll accept your suit if you manage to find this paragon of virtue? Are young gentlemen truly that easily won by a pleasing smile and nothing else?” “So, you find my smile pleasing, is it?” you ask, smiling. Smirking, he continued, “I find your opinion of yourself entirely too high, Your Highness. Your character is as deficient as your horsemanship. I shall bid you good night.” 

As Atsumu walked back into the hall, leaving you alone and dumbfounded in the garden, you were handed over a note that read, “Lord Whistledown’s Gossip Sheet.” As your breath became ragged, you rolled your eyes and responded, “Creating a menace again, are you now?” as you read the contents while everyone received the copy of the sheet: Dearest gentle reader,

Did you miss me? While our esteemed ton lazed in their rustic retreats, this author was doing just one thing. Honing my skills, or perhaps hatching my plans? Nay, even better, I was sharpening my knives for all of ya. The identity and means of this author remain a mystery. Trying to find those answers will prove fruitless, indeed. There is, of course, another unknown identity at the moment. It will, however, be possible for you to uncover this one. I speak of the season's Blue Sapphire, wherever he may be. This author hopes ya have fun at the Beautillion Ball, where hopefully we’ll get to hear some wonderful news tonight. Your move, Your Majesty. 

Always yours, 

Lord Whistledown.

Atsumu then walks to Prince Ojiro, who’s conversing with Prince Ittetsu, demanding, “We need to leave. We will see you at home.” Being dumbfounded, Ojiro asks, “But whatever for? People are watching, brother, and something’s clearly upsetting you. We just–” Atsumu interrupted him, remarking, “It’s clear we are woefully unprepared to navigate this chaos. I am sure Osamu's absence will only make him that much more desirable.” Osamu then turned to Prince Ittetsu, calmly responding, “It truly was a magnificent soiree, Your Highness. We are most grateful.” Ittetsu then responds, “Well, it would seem both of us may have our hands full this year.” Ojiro then smiles, continuing, “Not if I have something to say about it. And as you very well know, I always have something to say.” As both of them chuckle, silence lingers in the Inarizaki Hall as even the Miya twins halt for a moment. King Keishin found himself reading Whistledown’s words, and as he got irked, he stood up and announced while looking at everyone. “Your presence is noted, and your king is most appreciative. Allow it to now be my honor to present to you the season's Blue Sapphire.”

He then looked at the Miya twins, who were standing near the door, and announced, “Viscount Osamu Miya.” 

The world stood still for both of them, as Osamu walked towards the king and bowed before him, with a number of ladies swarming before them. While you were lost in thought, your sister-in-law, Lydia, remarked, with her husband standing by her side, “You look at him the way I look at my hair in the mirror, Sister,” with Daichi then whispering to both of you, “Truly, I cannot say I will long for any of this. Good luck, sister. This season, you will undoubtedly require it.”

As you walked towards the King, you bowed before him, as he greeted you with a smile, “Princess (Y/N) (L/N), my Diamond. Have you met my new incomparable?” Turning to Osamu, you were taken aback by his beautiful blue eyes and his grey hair. You continue, “I appreciate the introduction, Your Majesty. I only hope to be able to enjoy the pleasure of a dance.” With this, Osamu puts his hand out before you, and you put your hand in his, and you two walk to the dance floor, as you two dance to the classical rendition of “R U Mine?”

“Forgive my directness,” you interject as the two incomparables of the season keep dancing, “Do you have any thoughts about children?” He nods, responding, “Other than the fact that I desire them so? However many I have, my lady, I shall feel most fortunate. Together with my wife, we will chart the best course.” 

Being taken back by his response, you remark, “How very sensible. Do you have any successful business ventures?” Chuckling, Osamu responds, “Most certainly, Your Highness. It needs to be brought to your notice that I, like my brother, am half-Japanese. So, I would need to travel to Tokyo from time to time. I have a restaurant there, which is booming, and I’m looking to bring the business here. Should you want to invest in it?” You felt a fluttering sensation in your stomach as you were enjoying the camaraderie with Osamu, and after a couple of questions, you concluded, “You do not seem decomposed by my line of questioning.” Osamu responded with a smile, “Why would I ever be? A woman who knows exactly what she wants is truly admirable. If I may say so, it's as rare as a diamond.”

Osamu then broke the comfortable silence that lingered between the two of you, by responding, “I think we should go ahead and speak with my brothers. It is their blessing you shall need if we are… Oh! Here he is now. ‘Tsumu!” ‘Tsumu? You think to yourself, as your eyes land on Atsumu. “Ah, Princess (L/N)!” Prince Ojiro spoke, with Prince Ittetsu standing by. “I see you've met Viscount Osamu. This is—”  

You completed the sentence with, “His brother. Viscount Osamu is an excellent dancer. Perhaps, I may learn a thing or two from him,” and bowing at Osamu, with your eyes at Atsumu. Somehow, you felt an inexplicable connection that drew you to Atsumu. At this very moment, Osamu felt like sitting beside a fireplace and drinking tea, while Atsumu felt like a whetstone, sharpening your mettle with every gaze. 

Taking a long drawn sigh, he retorts, “It’s Duke Atsumu, my lady. Would you join me in the retiring room, brother?,” while Atsumu pulls Osamu away. Osamu inquired, “Is something wrong, ‘Tsumu?” As they were walking away from you, Atsumu retorted, “ ‘Samu, you are not to go near that woman. Do you understand?” 

As your gaze never left Atsumu’s figure, Prince Ittetsu remarked, “He is a precious sapphire, dearest.” Mindlessly, you responded, “Indeed. He is who I shall marry.” You were clueless about the confusion that was about to ensue amongst the ton this season. 

© Shyna 2022 - reposting on any other platform or even tumblr is not allowed. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.

[taegularities]

Jungkook royal AU? Enemies to lovers jungkook royal AU?? You really wanna kill us huh Rid? 100% need to read this

enemies to lovers. jeon jungkook. a two or three-parter. e2l is one of my favourite genres, but i still don't write it much. why? it's about time, i think...

[crispy-chan]

WONDERFUL I’M GLAD <3 I’M QUITE WELL TOO MYSELF anyw i shall tone it down w the caps and ask u to give me three good random words that may possibly appear in something i’d write (wink wonk) for research purposes (WINK WONK)

Hehe I’m happy ❤️

Okay so three words you say 👀 heart, sword, prince (first words that came to mind lol)

[mochidoodle]

in royal guard AU, Loid and Yor are supposed to discover Anya while field hunting in the mythical forest, but while the two of them on horseback together seems romantic, I think it'd actually go like this 🤪🐴

royal guard AU 👑⚔️🌹

[its-tortle]

firstprince fic recs 👑🇺🇸

put this together for my bestie a few weeks ago and thought i may as well share it here :)

(baby) don't make me spell it out by extaswings - 2k - the most popular proposal fic and for good reason omg

fsotus & hrh feat. the web's most searched questions [for approval] by loveonpurpose - 2.4k - silly little transscript of alex and henry doing the most searched questions interview

class(room) warfare by @cha-melodius - 7.7k - alex and henry are both professors and alex doesn't wipe the board before henry teaches in that room so he has to write a strongly worded email that obviously turns into argue-flirting, and so on.

what we might do (if we stop keeping a secret) by @indomitable-love - 8k - lovely lovely au where their emails don't get leaked and they get to come out how they want to. bonus points for the bleachers title

am i the asshole by @everwitch-magiks - 9.5k - a fun reddit aita gets posted and everyone thinks they should fuck

right at home by @omgcmere - 10k - college au with a library study buddies meet-cute and a little fake relationship schtick

all the old showstoppers by @cha-melodius - 20k - in an au where alex didn't go to the royal wedding, they meet a few years later on bake off

god save the blessed american president mom by @zipadeea - 31k - someone attempts an assasination on ellen, and alex gets hit instead. this fic is absolutely amazing. make sure you have tissues tho

rule number nine by clottedcreamfudge - 43k - the kissing booth au that is way better than the movie

hit (my love) out of the park by bleedingballroomfloor - 49k - baseball au!!

and history remembered by sherryvalli - 55k wip!! - rwrb from the perspective of twitter in the rwrb-verse. so so so well done it all feels so real i am screaming

camp llwynywermod by bleedingballroomfloor - 56k - camp couselor au!!

[coefore]

I did it! This is an IDW AU born while watching The Green Knight (2021), specifically from one movie shot that I'd like to redraw. I was torn on whether or not to draw them all as robots or humans, so I started making designs for their human counterparts first - mostly because it is more fun to come up with clothes and accessories. I will eventually tackle a robot version. This is a long post, btw!

Indeed, this is a completely separate version from the Lion King AU I had come up with a couple of years ago, I just borrowed the crowns because I really liked those designs lol.

But let's set the stage under the cut. You can listen to the playlist on spotify dedicated to it: I've placed the songs in sequence so that they can create a certain vibe for the scenes I had in mind. You can read the plot part while listening.

Some character traits

This royalty au supposes a parliamentary monarchy (like the UK, Spain or Japan). This work is an in-between of later Roman/early Medieval aesthetics and some Futuristic Stuff. The Autobot brand is the royal family crest, while the Decepticon brand can be used to signal the Protector and their entourage, but only in formal settings outside the nation. Usually, the Protector can show elements of the Decepticon colours (red) in their attires.

Optimus Prime

Optimus is prideful and domineering: he knows he has the power to do real damage to people. After all, he was born into royalty and has known no other life. He has anger outbursts, but that's a side effect of his paranoia. At the start of the story, he is not the prime yet. He's around 23-24, already suffering from a mental affliction much like schizophrenia, but, just as in ye old days, the court and his father (Zeta) are not really concerned about his odd behaviours. "He is just volatile", you know. He is also dramatic, making big scenes when his emotions are too cooped up. Optimus, though, is not intentionally cruel - this isn't a Shattered Glass au where he wants some kind of bloodlust sated. He has a deep inner mind, feeling much more like a philosopher and a writer than a brute. This makes him a little naive, too, having people in court (like Prowl) taking advantage of him - and sometimes even Megatron uses his influence on Optimus to stir him where he wants to. He reads a lot, is curious, and is deeply in love with Megatron - sometimes becoming a little cringy about it. He can be a bit of a goofball, telling jokes and being rather affectionate with his family. Sadly, he's a Pisces.

Megatron

Megatron is a diligent engineer who just so happens to pick the Prime's son's interest at some point while assisting his father (Terminus, a strict, distant man) in a job at court. Optimus and Megatron are the same age. He is aloof, quiet and a very good listener. That means he often allows people to speak over him or for him - that doesn't mean, however, that he isn't going to correct them or speak his mind. He is just a careful man. Coming from a rather cold family environment, he has a hard time expressing his emotions, both verbally and physically: he kisses and hugs, sure, but that doesn't come naturally to him. After becoming protector, he has a hard time getting used to the court lifestyle since he is quite bothered by the intricacies of royal "rituals", may they be clothing, hairstyles or make-up choices. Or Starscream fussing over him about that all day. He also often stands up against abuse of power, especially from Optimus. They fight quite a lot. He enjoys drawing (buildings, like architecture) and reading novels, but he's not particularly cultured. He is also, sadly, an Aquarius. (And transgender, but this has no political or social bearing in the story besides being Rodimus' biological carrier).

Prowl

Prowl is about fifteen years older than Optimus, becoming his advisor once Zeta Prime passes in "a tragic accident". He is ambitious, cunning and... Deceptive. His ultimate goal is to push Optimus to insanity, convince the parliament he is unfit to rule and become reagent in his stead. This would allow him to create an oligarchy with other senators. His words always support Optimus' delusions, abusing the Prime's naivety for his scheming. Prowl thinks of Optimus as an idiot lucky enough to be born in a high position in the social pyramid. He has attempted various times to "warn" Megatron, one of the few people who is extremely suspicious of Prowl. And by warn, I mean having him pushed down the stairs, giving him a nice broken leg. He also acts suspiciously around Rodimus.

Zeta Prime

Zeta Prime was a balanced, careful ruler. He held concerns about his son's future, as he thought Optimus wasn't fit for a leading role. He was a stern man and often frustrated by Optimus' antics. However, their relationship was on good terms. He was "found" dead by Prowl during a political meeting abroad, as he was standing in for Alpha Trion (Zeta's advisor), prompting Optimus' coronation. Zeta wasn't sick, but all primes in this AU suffer from haemophilia (a hereditary illness that makes it harder for the body to stop bleeding).

Rodimus

Rodimus was born three years into Optimus' primacy. He was brought up in a restrictive environment, as Megatron grew more suspicious of Prowl, fearing for Rodimus' safety. That translated into Rodimus feeling anxious when Megatron's not around (for too long, at least) and becoming a little jealous of him, even if it's Optimus taking Megatron's attention. Rodimus uses "dad" for Megatron and "Father" for Optimus. He doesn't like Optimus too much, usually bearing his presence and ignoring him whenever he can, but deep down he worries about his father, too. He is a very knowledgeable child with a vast vocabulary, as he enjoys books of every kind and, just like his dad, he is a good listener, learning a lot from the "adult conversations" around him. Rodimus is often seen together with Starscream (his nanny, in a way lol), who he is fond of but has difficulties showing it. He becomes Prime-to-be at the age of 16, like all Primes.

Starscream

Starscream was the royal alchemist, an inspired researcher and a man of science. He is loyal and has strong opinions on many subjects, especially on morals and ethics. That is also why, during Zeta's late reign, he was demoted to servant with the accusation of insubordination. He is still a high-grade servant, usually dealing with bureaucracy... Until a new Protector shows up, that is. As soon as Megatron becomes a Protector-to-be, he is assigned the role of first maid in assisting him, a task he takes very seriously. Although Megatron's distance and lack of interactions with him drive him quite mad at first, he slowly realises they're quite compatible. Their relationship evolves into confidants and then friends, as Megatron often takes Starscream's side. Also, Starscream has been suspicious of Prowl since day one. He enjoys Rodimus until he starts being a little opinionated pest-- but he's fond of the child, even as he grows older and more anxious. His hobby is sneaking into the court laboratories and fixing whatever annotations made by other alchemists he deems wrong.

Skywarp & Thundercracker

They are part of the Protector's entourage (and Starscream's brothers). Skywarp is a little airheaded, a bit clumsy, and usually focuses on entertainment, mostly writing poems and songs. He is the only one who knows all the intricate inner passages of the court's buildings by heart, meaning he never gets lost. Thundercracker, on the other hand, is a bit more cocky. He is built like a brick, so he helps with manual tasks and is a decent leader, usually picking up the ranks when Starscream is busy. Both of them were not demoted like their brother, they just started working at the court as high-grade servants. They are very loyal to Megatron, although they treat him more like a royal than a friend.

The Plot (generally speaking)

Optimus is interested in this one engineer working at the court he has seen a couple of times in the last few months. He is gorgeous, and it sounds like a fun time to fill in his afternoons, maybe even getting some sex out of it. That's a thing he hasn't lacked in his life, like most royals he was used to having sex workers available at whim. However, Megatron doesn't seem too affected by the Prime-to-be's attention. He is very deadpan and interested in him as a person; he finds Optimus interesting and funny, so, in a matter of weeks, they kind of hit it off, Optimus falling madly in love with this man, spending most of the time daydreaming and absolutely useless at his duties, much to Zeta's dismay.

As this love story progresses over the next couple of years, Prowl's machination starts rolling out: being a young overachiever, he patiently waits for the chance to get rid of Zeta in a way that doesn't point directly to him. After all, Prowl is trusted and seen as loyal and caring for the Primes he serves; he is an incredibly talented actor, having the support of a few Autobot senators, too. On an out-of-country political trip, he lets Zeta bleed to death, coming back home in a hurry to announce the Prime's death and rushing Optimus' coronation. At this point, Optimus is not mentally ready to hold that position; he is quickly pushed to marry Megatron, making him his Protector. In a matter of a year and a half, Optimus' mental state quickly deteriorates, allowing Prowl to take hold of the neo-Prime's decisions.

Optimus' mental illness worsens, which stresses Megatron into stirring his husband away from Prowl. Rodimus is born in that worried, paranoid environment. Although mostly wanted by Optimus as one of his fixations (and also discouraged by Prowl himself), Rodimus brings more stability to the court. Megatron finally takes hold of Optimus' volatile behaviour as Rodimus grows older, making the Prime doubt his advisor's suggestions more than once. Prowl, thus, "warns" Megatron to lay low, having him pushed down the stairs. The goal wasn't to kill Megatron but to show him Prowl could. As Rodimus turns seven, Megatron becomes more anxious and paranoid, rubbing that over to his son. Optimus doesn't allow them to go around the court or outside without being accompanied.

Prowl's hold on Optimus slowly slips away. At the time of Rodimus' coronation as a Prime-to-be, during a medical examination for his haemophilia, the court physician (Ratchet) tells him he needs to be careful, as that illness was Zeta's cause of death. That was a known thing, of course, but it made Optimus think over the mechanics of his father's death in a way only an obsession-driven man can. He confides with Megatron over his suspicion of Prowl killing his father, and finally, they seem to be on the same page on this...

This is somehow the story up to now. I don't know if I'll update it further. I just enjoy the idea of whatever can happen in this setting. I hope you enjoyed reading this wall of text.

[khmelisuneliart]

Royal au kavetham👑

[royal-apple-cider-martini]

I couldn’t help myself 😅🤣

[akiisks]

Manshine City trio Royal AU 👑

[cryptidcorners]

Old Friend — Prince!Derek Danforth x GN!Reader [ Part 1/? ]

Description: A royal ball celebrating the end of a decade of pure isolation between Houses brings you and an old acquaintance together once again.

# No Request

# A.N: I'm literally gushing over DND here, lol! There's sm story shit. it's more lore explaining than actual romantic stuff, SOOO. sorry. hope you enjoy the AU pfft

Media: The Beekeeper [ AU ]

Character: Derek Danforth [ AU ]

Tags: DND/Fantasy Inspired AU, Royalty, PLOT, Lore Dumping, Friends to ? ? ?, Romantic Implications, Fluff, Slight Suggestiveness { if you squint }, Slowburn, Childhood Friends, Flirting, Catching Up, OOC!Derek [?], Sweet Talk + Reader is !GN.

Warnings: Mentions of War/Isolation, Depression, Childhood Trauma, Substances/Acholic Beverages + Smoking.

TOS. Derek Dandorth Master List {TBW}.

The ballroom had been mildly entertaining at most, while Dandorth House was certainly exotic with fruitullius pickings like booze, muzzled griffins and gowns, you had found yourself a mere wallflower near the belt of the corner. Your attentive gaze remained ill as you stared at the chorus of visitors from all across the world clad in their signature wear, dancing the night away with tipping mindscapes.

You were impressed by their shiny attempt to win over the other Houses with opium and silver statues not seduced. The idea of taking wine brewed by a Dandorth was an idea you'd never subscribe to, as much as you valued their efforts in ore distribution, they weren't a House you'd call a friend, more of a neighbor with the temper of a sun bear.

The shine of silk, flashing grins and laughter had made you feel as if you didn't belong, as if you were nothing but a lonley phantom enviously spectating the quartz floors.

Your House, Tallis, was a symbol of artistry, sculpting, poets and other powers were the foundations of your land. You were the only heir to the throne, sharing no brother or sister to extend a blade at down the line. Alas, you were greatful no family blood would bare at your fingertips, but the crippling loniliess had carved you into a quiet, yet respectful noble with dreams just like any Tallis; only you wished there was another one to share it with.

"Admiring the dancefloor are we?" A voice asked, it's tone as complex as the limestone statues of old characters fronted at the palace. You felt something buzz in your soul, and your gaze had flocked up to the host.

Prince Derek Dandorth, only, he was much older than when you last laid your eyes on him.

It was around midnight when both Houses declared they'd go into hiding to cower away from the war. It was your last royal ball together, and you weren't interested in leaving yet. You were both children then, dumb and in love. You both had scurried off and his yourselves near the old balcony that you were sure had been rebuilt with golden rimmings and white rose bushes.

"When will I ever see you again?" You asked desperly, hands interlocking with his soft fingertips. Derek's eyes had arrowed into you, deep with longing. Back when his hair was still an endless rush of dark, brunette curls and gentle highlights.

"I don't know, but it'll be soon. Our Houses may be splitting, but that doesn't mean we won't be able to dance again, will it?" Derek whispered. "We'll see each other again. We have to."

He had been wrong, and you had been grieving over that broken promise when you were children for a long time. The Dandorth and Tallis Houses were at a halt, conflicted by some nearby wars circling close to the walls.

It had resulted in both kingdoms locking themselves in their labyrinths of treasure, with eyes paved into the stone. You were isolated in your House, only seeking comfort in carving your inner desires into rich pavement that was now collecting dust in your Queenship's second guest bedroom.

Now, he was here, cocky as ever. With blonde hair and light reminces of forest green and flakes of emerald flickering across his face. His signature uniform was gorgeous, with carefully decorated leaves and patterns that resembled rich lingering. His crown set carefully in his forest of curls, and you swore you could smell cologne that burst your nostrils with pure dopamine.

"Derek?" You uttered, slack jawed.

You blinked and he waved his hand in front of your stunned expression teasingly.

His hand carefully tightened around his glass, "Now, that's no way to greet a prince in his own House, is it?" the heir cooed. Your face fell and you arched a brow, unimpressed at his mock of carelessness. Prince Dandorth was certainly an idealist, but he was definitely not an actor.

He laughed, tone deep as ivory. "I'm just messing with you, Noble Tallis." Then, he opened his arms for an inviting hug you immediately fell into. Although, he felt stiff, you could sense he was relived to see you again.

"You look different." You pulled back.

Derek's gaze remained on you, "You like it? The hair that is—I had it personally dyed, you can tell how organic it looks, yes?"

You could tell he was trying his best to seem noble. So, you teased. "Oh, the hair? I hadn't noticed, silly me. I couldn't help but notice your blush and gown—are those earrings?"

His fingers ran down the golden patterns with a soft smile. "Well, the House of artistry was attending, I had to look my best, especially for the only heir." A warm smile spread across his face. "It's been way too long." Derek said breathlessly, "I missed you."

Prince Danforth's face softened. "Well, thank the Gods."

You eased, trying to stir up some conversation. "How are you? I've heard your House is doing well after the release." 

He boasted. "People are desperate over our caverns, you would not believe how many travelers were mounted at our doorstep ready for trade." Derek confirmed after a sip, "We might be in need of your creativity again, the walls are so dull, and they can certainly use some of your flare, don't you think?" 

You were flattered. Your eyes ran down the exterior of the walls, lightly scratching your jaw. "You know, you're right. Your palace does look a little—" 

"A little, what? He urged. 

You humored. "Like it was designed by a commoner."

Derek laughed. "You've always had an eye for details like this. Good to know I wasn't disappointed to know you haven't changed that much."

Then, he asked. "How about you? Any new inventions or views on the world? Hearing about your House is like turning a Jack-in-the-box."

You chewed your lip awkwardly. As Derek had imagined, there were many views and advances in Tallis. Though, it had caused a whide fued between philosophers and their audience. It was overwhelming, but nonetheless, Tallis had been doing much better than any other House, even with its complications with political attributes. "It's . . . going well."

You knew it wasn't in Derek's character to pester, so he hummed in delight for your vague answer. His lips settled on his narrow class, drinking in a rich selection of dark champagne. His apex gaze settled on you, "Mind if I steal you away for a moment? I see you don't fancy the music or dancing." Derek offered his hand, "Just like old times," he suggested.

There wasn't a sliver of reluctance in your answer, you eagerly gripped his hand and let him guide you outside the ballroom. The wash of silence veiled over your ears as the intrusive rhythm of the party began to fade away.

You had forgotten how large Prince Danforth's palace was, with high walls itching towards the sky and silver veins ripping through the quartz floors. He drank up your silence. "Beautiful, isn't it? I know there might be a thousand mistakes in your eyes, but it's something else entirely to me. My people sculpted and built this castle for my House, my bloodline, and no matter what I do, I may never repay their labor."

Derek sighed, gaze masking apologetically as his speech had been led astray. "Sorry, I haven't spoken to you in a while. I have a lot on my chest, Noble Tallis."

"No, no. It's alright, I assure you. Don't apologize for simply speaking to me."

Derek smiled shyly, "Thank you." his voice relaxed at his offer, "Would you fancy a tour?"

"Absolutely." Your eyes fluttered.

Derek nudged his head forwards the split of hallways, "Come, then."

Your fingertips parted and you were slightly disappointed when he walked a few steps in front of you, arms spread out like a hawk as he basked in the light of the exquisite chandeliers hooked to the carved ceiling.

You felt like a child again. Two rebellious souls giggling and whispering, racing up the staircases like hummingbirds and gazing at the web of art pieces that mapped the generations of his House. Tales of war generals and royal blood rivalry. Derek in particular had a knack for history, giving his share of intelligence of his family tree with eager eyes.

"Is that your grandfather?"

"Great-grandfather." Derek corrected. "My father told me a lot about him, he was the loyalest king of this House. He truly cared for his people, and it's how we were able to advance this far at all. He just had faith." His eyes fell, "Though, I worry it's all going to go to waste."

"How so?"

Derek set his hand carefully on the painting, fingertips grazing gently across the teeth of the large canvas. "My mother has been pushing our classes too hard this last decade. It's caused a commotion within our walls, they don't trust the House anymore. I have no authority like her, she won't . . ." he choked back a cry. "I can't do anything, I'm useless. I'm only a Prince, I'm nothing compared her."

He felt your warm grasp on his shoulder. You whispered, "That's not true. You're many things, Derek. A dreamer, a loyalist. You'll be a great king, this I tell you."

Derek paused. "But what if my kingdom can't wait? They're being pushed to the edge, working like dogs. It's no good leading a nation when there's nothing left. I don't want to wait."

This was a lot to take in. Tallis had been oblivious to how quickly Danforth had been advancing like no other House, now you were truly worried. A rebellion was possible, and every House had almost lost all their work by the lower classes arriving at their pearly gates with mounts of fire.

His hands fumbled with his dressing, voice grim. "I'm the only heir, the only one left to fix up her mistakes." Derek turned to you with desperate eyes. "I feel like I'm in a cage. The walls have opened up again, yet, I don't feel free. Like a bird in a cage, do you know what that feels like? To act as an audience, almost no word in anything unless I'm told to."

You hadn't noticed Derek taking both your hands and pressing them against his chest. You exhaled lightly, "Derek. What is the queen doing to you?"

Was Queen Danforth imprisoning him? A Prince should have a voice, especially as the only heir. Your grip tightened, "Prince Danforth, whatever is happening . . . you can tell me anything. I promise, your word will remained sealed between my lips, nobody will know."

"Oh, but they will." Derek explained. "Someone will always know. There's ears in the brick and mortar, eyes from friends."

You made a noise as if you were being strangled. "But what about now? I feel as if you told me everything and nothing at the same time." You were at the edge of tears. You couldn't loose him, not again.

"I haven't told you a lick of what's truly happening." He told you. "There's so much you don't know, Tallis. So much to know, such little time."

You were so confused. This was only the tip of the iceberg according to Prince Danforth, he wasn't the type to lie for as spoiled as he was. Regardless, his eyes were the darkest shade of sincerity you had ever seen. Your voice was hushed, "What do I do? I can't leave like this, Derek."

"I promise, I'll tell you everything." Derek rested his forehead against yours, "I promise." then, he pulled away. "I love you too much to let you get hurt because of my ignorance. Time will tell, just be patient."

Derek desperately needed someone to talk to. About his injustice and personal conflict, but he felt the need to warn you as well. Something else was brewing, a conspiracy perhaps? What was Queen Danforth up to? Would you ever know? So many questions.

Then, you broke out of your paralysis when he had mentioned love. You stammered, "You love me?"

He was shocked, frozen in his step. "Of course, I do. You're so fantastic, intelligent and sensitive. If I didn't know any better I figured I'd be under a spell," Derek chuckled. "I may as well be at this point. I care about you, so much. I can't lie to you, but I can't put you in harm's way either."

Your face warmed. Before he could spin away, you held his hands tightly, getting lost in his eyes once again. His breath hitched, and you heard him swallow harshly. "Tallis?" Derek didn't pull away, you could even sense him bringing himself closer, "You know, if we do this, there will be no turning back . . ."

You were longing, "Then so be it. I've been locked away for too long, the only company being memories of you."

Derek's speech slowed, harsh and husky. "All my life, I've always gotten what I've want, everything I asked for. However, this is the first time I've felt—" he rasped. "I needed something as precious as you."

Cupid's arrow has pierced your soul, and you had read him well enough to press your lips against his own, melting into a kiss. Derek pulled away, catching his breath with a giggle. "Oh, Heavens, give me a moment."

"Never kissed someone before?" You asked.

"No, never." He hushed you with a peck, that descended into a deeper kiss. You ran your fingertips across his silky wear, and you could feel shivers running down his spine. He felt like a peasant on his knees, begging for a penny to add to his name. Derek had felt desperate before, but never like this.

A strong desire had pulled you closer, stealing each other's breath away. Your sentimental feelings grew thin once he pulled away after making a noise, which made his face flush in raw embarrassment.

"A thousand pardons, I just, got a little wrapped into it." Derek mumbled and then repeated. "Sorry,"

"Don't be, I liked it, I promise." You traced his thumb to his cheek, lightly circling his warm skin. "Thank you for taking me out, and telling me everything, or . . . most of it at least."

Derek's face softened and rested his hand on yours. His face fell, "If I could, I'd run away with you, start somewhere fresh."

"Derek, you know we can't. We're the only heirs, the only ones who can hold the throne and make a difference. It's our duty."

He dipped his head, saddened at the taste of reality, "I know, I know, but a man can dream." though your face was infectious enough to let a smile spread across his face.

The rest of the night had been tranquill and hush, a few fruitful hours of nothing but gentle praises and a few butterfly kisses here and there without disturbance, until you finally stopped near a pool where a seahawk was perched, beak wrestling weeds out of the water. It was growing late and you could sense your House would be departing soon enough.

Derek took your hand once more, resting his lips on your knuckles. "This was a wonderful evening, Tallis."

"I hope I get to see you again." You told him.

"I'll make sure to write to you, maybe through a messenger bird so it's extra private." Derek toyed. "Maybe you can send me those beautiful drawings of yours."

You smiled softly. "I'll think about it."

You had kissed him goodbye again, before you could stir away from his side, his warm breath tickled your ear. "And don't forget what we spoke about,"

Dawn was tickling the air and the clouds were heavy with the deep scarlet of sunrise. Derek had gotten no sleep tonight, as his attention was too busy wandering through chapters of you. It wasn't the only thing keeping him up, as his mind was still swampy with anxiety. He had only fueled your curiosity to solve Danforth's conspiracy, all because his emotional vulnerability had gotten the better of him and he couldn't bring himself to hold back.

He walked tiredly to his study and wrapped his hands around the careful mold of his desk, carefully reelimg out a sealed envelope from the darkness of his cabinets. A red stamped, engraved with a symbol resembling a furious bee hunching over its stinger to the side was in bold, almost intimidating him. Derek's gaze hardened, he knew there was something else to his symbol,

And he would get to the bottom of it.