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rin-eko · 2 years ago

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Chapter Twenty-One - Twisted

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There had been many times in your life where you didn’t know how to react to something. Where you knew the answers- what the proper reactions were- but all you could do in those moments was stand in shock. Even if you should have been angry, or distraught or grieving, all you could feel inside of you was a numb confusion.

The day your grandmother died. The evening you returned home from a trip to find Saeya locked in a small, dark closet.

The morning your mother told you about your marriage to the crown prince.

You knew what pregnancy meant, of course. But as you knelt before Aika the meaning of the word wasn’t coming to you. As if your mind had blocked it out for your own protection.

You tilted your head, murmuring, “You’re… pregnant?”

She smiled at you softly, nodding. “Indeed. I just spoke to Lady Tali about it this afternoon and a doctor confirmed it yesterday. You see, I haven’t bled in a long time so I had my suspicions. Isn’t this cause for celebration? The crown prince’s first child! How wonderful!” she clapped her hands together.

“Ha…” a disbelieving smile touched your lips as you stared at the floor.

“I had intentions to speak with the two of you about when we can expect a child from Miss y/n, but this woman came forward first. I was surprised because she is not one of your concubines, Haruchiyo,” Tali slanted her grandson a look. “I’ve looked into her family. She is a common woman and despite what you’ve been taught you have allowed a child to develop and taint the bloodline of the throne that has been pure for generations. All we can do is wait and hope this baby will be a girl. In the meantime, you and your bride must try for a son. It has been too long, soon questions about Princess Y/n’s fertility will arise.”

Your face burned from embarrassment as she continued to speak, expertly taking control of the situation. You vaguely registered her addressing Haruchiyo, but her voice sounded faraway. You finally realised that it was because you had stopped breathing, and just as you realised this your lungs seized terribly. Haruchiyo met your wide, shaking eyes and in his you saw a panic that finally made your grasp the reality of the situation. The reality you should have understood every time he held you close and murmured so tenderly that he was yours.

Your entire body jerked forward, desperately sucking in the air that had been stolen from shock.

“Oh Gods,” you mumbled, gripping your clothes right over your heart. You wanted to claw at it, scratch the source of pain from your chest. It already had cracks in it, but you could feel it then, just moments away from shattering.

You winced when your eyes clouded over, the floor before you a hazy blur. More than anything you didn’t want to cry. Not over this. Not over something so normal.

You searched out Aika’s blurry figure, gaze dropping to her flat stomach. She was barely pregnant. How long ago…

Bile rose in your throat and you scrambled to cover your mouth, feeling sick with the mengtal images assaulting you.

You had been so careless with your heart. In an effort to mend Haruchiyo’s you had foregone protecting your own.

You gripped into your hair tightly, nails scraping down your scalp. Breathing was becoming harder, the heat overlapping your body causing black spots to dance in your vision. You pushed the hair back from your face as you sat straight, immediately swaying in place.

“Y/n.” You vaguely heard his voice calling your name. You had completely forgotten there were other people in the room until two long arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a familiar slender chest.

“I don’t understand, I don’t understand,” you chanted. What would happen now? You’d have to watch him raise another woman’s child? There was no way out of it. You couldn’t run away. No matter what he did running away wasn’t a possibility in your position. If you weren’t executed for abandoning the throne, you would be shunned. There was no place in society for an impure, single woman who had run away from her husband. You hadn’t fully considered that wanting a true, loving marriage with the prince left you so vulnerable to his actions. No matter what he did, you would never be able to leave him.

Soft lips ducked into your neck, a strong hand holding the back of your neck.

“Y/n, breathe. I need you to listen to me.”

Your head lifted, finally registering his body pressed to yours, arms gripping you as if afraid you’d disappear at any moment. His eyes were pleading with you to… what? Listen to this? Listen to him try to explain…

You keeled forward again thinking about their bodies twined together. Him touching her the same way he had you. Her bringing him all the pleasure in the world.

You shoved him away with one hand, the other still covering your mouth as you gasped for air.

“Child.” Tali’s hand touched the top of your head gently and you looked up with shaky eyes to meet her strict gaze.

“I understand your difficult position but know your place. We will give you and the prince a few moments alone, but this needs to be addressed. If the baby is a boy, Haruchiyo will marry Miss Aika as a concubine.”

Your lips trembled, tears continuing to pour down your cheeks as everyone but him exited the room. He immediately reached for you again, staring in horror when you flinched and crawled back away from him.

He looked lost, kneeling to the floor staring at you and trying to find the words to take the pain away.

And he looked beautiful, too. Long robes surrounding him, his light eyes glimmering in the reflection of the moon.

“When…” you whispered. “When was the last time you…”

You couldn’t even finish that sentence. Just looking at him made your heart lurch another painful beat, a vine of thorns slowly wrapping around it.

“Don’t,” he whispered painfully. Achingly. In a way that made you realise he didn’t want to tell the answer because it was that bad. His jaw tightened as his face turned away, eyes closing in what you could only label as shame.

“Tell me,” you sobbed. “I need to know. When was the last time you did that with her?”

“You don’t want to know…”

“Tell me!” you screamed, voice cracking awfully. You wanted to hit him until he looked as bruised as you felt. Until he could even feel an ounce of the pain he continued to put you through.

His hands were trembling when they reached for you, dropping at the look of dare on your face.

His head lowered. “…The weeks after I fought with Rindou. I… spent time with her,” he said as delicately as possible. “But it didn’t mean anything, Y/n. You need to listen to me, please. Doing that doesn’t mean anything with anyone except you. I would take it back if I could. It was just because-”

“I don’t want to listen to you.” You stood. “D-Do you think those words make up for it? I can’t even look at you. It’s possible then. It’s really possible. She’s having your child. She’s…”

Your legs gave out again, and you promptly collapsed, your knees hitting the floor hard.

“It hurts. Why did you… it hurts. It hurts.”

He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t just watch you like that. He groaned in distress, pulling you into his arms again and feeling your tears drip onto him, his heart squeezing painfully with each one.

Every one of your sniffles, every tremble of your body, had his heart moaning in anguish, because though you may never have believed a single word from him again, his heart was connected to yours.

“I know. I know. Shhh.” He was licking away your tears but more spilled down your face.

“My heart isn’t strong enough for this. I can’t do it. I can’t do this anymore, Haruchiyo.”

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded. Through tears you saw he was crying too, and you wanted to yell at him if you weren’t choking on shortened breaths. Why was he crying? Who gave him the right to be sad, to look so devastated. “Please. I’m sorry. Just don’t… don’t leave me.”

You had never seen him cry, even when he spoke about his brother- but how could you possibly care for him in that moment when you had yourself to take care of. You had to stitch yourself back together again. How many times had it been since you first married? One day you would never heal.

You pushed him away, too fragile to let him hold you. Even his lightest touch felt burning.

“Why are you sorry?” You swayed to your feet, staring blankly in front of you. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It doesn’t matter, anyways. This marriage was never real. It was doomed from the start.” Never had you wished more for you to have fought against this marriage when you first found out about it.

He stood, too, reaching for you again and quickly retracting his arms when you held your hand up.

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that,” he begged. “This was real. It is real. Everything with Aika was a mistake. You need to listen to me. Fuck, stop crying. Please stop crying. I can’t see you cry and not hold you…”

“If you touch me, I will hit you. And I don’t need to listen to you. I don’t need to do anything for you. I don’t even want to see your face ever again. This…” you raised your hands helplessly. “This relationship has always been so twisted. From the very start there was something wrong with it. I don’t know what I was expecting…”

He flinched from that voice, too. From how empty you sounded. From how he could see you visibly pulling away. “Stop acting like that. Stop acting like this marriage is nothing,” he pleaded quietly.

It was one of his worst fears when he thought about you finding out how far his relationship went with Aika. That you would go back to the way you used to be. He loved the way you had grown to look at him. He never wanted it to go back to the way it used to be when you didn’t care for him. he wouldn’t be able to stand it.

But he could see it happening right then. Fading from your eyes so tangibly he wanted to grab onto the remaining feelings you had for him and never let them go, never let you take them back no matter how much he messed up.

He was so selfish. It didn’t stop him from thinking about himself once more.

“I was angry then,” he started desperately. “I didn’t know you. I didn’t know what I could be hurting. I was so angry. At Sara and the emperor, and even you because my feelings for you were so confusing, and I-”

“Decided the best way to handle your feelings was to take them out on Aika? What did I do to you?” you cried out. “I didn’t do anything to you! From the beginning of this marriage you’ve hurt me even while I didn’t do anything to you!” Your whole body shook when you met his gaze. “Even though I’ve been yours since the moment we wed, you’ve never been mine. Your words of faith are as fake as this marriage. You never had to court me. You never had to earn me. It’s no wonder you never respected me.”

“That’s not true,” he murmured, tears rolling down his pale cheeks. “I’m yours. There isn’t a single part of me that doesn’t belong to you. How can I make you see that? Tell me, I’ll do anything. Please…”

This was so much more terrible than he thought it would be. Your emotionless gaze winded him.

You lifted a hand. “I’ve heard enough of this. I’m calling for empress dowager. I think she wants to speak to you and Aika about how this will happen. I’ll… I still have duties to attend to this evening.”

As soon as Aika and Tali entered the room, Haruchiyo’s piercing gaze fell to the mother-to-be.

“You’re lying!” he yelled at her. “You’re lying. You fucking bitch! Tell her the truth. Tell her you’re lying.” His voice broke and he looked back to you. “Y/n, please stay. Listen to me explain. You have to. You can’t leave. You can’t leave me.”

“Why are you trying so hard?” you questioned at the door, one hand holding the frame as you looked over your shoulder. “Your true love is having your baby. It’s like she said. This is cause for celebration. Your first heir. Congratulations, my prince.”

“I don’t love her. I thought I did, but that’s not love. What you and I have- that’s-”

“No, it’s not,” you interrupted. “What we had was cheap and untrue.”

Aika sighed. “I don’t understand how you can even say that, Haru. You didn’t even sleep in the same bed as her for months after the wedding.”

Tali snapped to attention, staring at her grandson. “Is this true?”

He clicked his tongue, looking away.

“It is,” Aika spoke up. “I know because we shared a bed often.”

You flinched, edging out of the room. Haruchiyo’s gaze snapped to you, silently pleading.

“Excuse me, then.” You bowed, biting into your lip so hard you tasted blood.

“Y/n,” he implored quietly, voice so filled with acute hurt your eyes naturally sought him out to comfort him even considering what he had done. You made out his lips shaping the word please, beautiful blues so sad, before you exited, barely making it to your marriage room before sliding to a heap on the floor and curling into yourself.

…

“Miss? Miss? You cannot sleep on the floor, please allow me to take you to bed.”

You looked up blearily, Kia’s small face swimming in front of you.

“Kia? What time is it?” You winced, pushing off the hard floor, your whole body aching.

“It’s just past midnight. I’ll draw a bath and ready your bed.”

“No.” You allowed her to help you to your feet. Your eyes were sore and swollen, no doubt from crying. You recognised the pain consistently making your heart clench. It was much more severe, but similar to the uncomfortable tightness that had settled in your chest as you grew to love the prince. A feeling that made you want to run and hide so he never had power over you.

“I still need to do the accounts. I’m going to the sweet plum room.”

She shook her head. “You mustn’t. It is late and you need to rest.”

You sighed, sending her a tired look. “Kia, please understand. I need a distraction. I cannot think about-” you sighed, “I cannot think about him.”

Sympathy shone in her gentle eyes before she looked down and nodded, pressing her lips together for a moment.

“I… I know this won’t make you feel better, princess consort, but if I could I would hit the prince with all the power in my fists,” she stated fervently, holding up said fists. “I think he deserves it. But I don’t want my family to be punished for my actions.”

You sent her a warm smile, finding her silly words strangely comforting. No one else in the palace would think the prince had done a thing wrong. Most likely the handmaids were already gossiping about how selfish and unreasonable you were for throwing a fit at the news. But Kia was on your side without question, providing a gentle, healing kindness.

Perhaps you were being selfish and unreasonable. Had there ever been an emperor who didn’t take other women to bed and marry several wives? You were so greedy, wanting all of him.

“Thank you for those words, Kia.” You paused, the question of Haruchiyo’s whereabouts on the tip of your tongue. You mentally shook it off. He was probably still with Aika. They had a lot to discuss.

You distracted yourself, facing Aika. “Is my sister in bed?”

“Yes, she fell asleep early.”

“Good.” If she caught sight of you now, she would immediately know that something had upset you and go on the defensive.

“Kia, what do you think I should do?” you asked quietly as you left your room.

“About the prince?”

“Yes.” You trusted her opinion more than anyone else’s.

She bit her lip. “I won’t be of much use to you, miss. The thing is, I have never been in love so I do not know the pain you are feeling now. Perhaps if I had I would be able to give you advice.”

“Are you betrothed?”

She shook her head. “My parents married for love so they understand that their children may want to as well. They have not arranged a marriage for any of us.”

You let out a breath. “That’s good. You are lucky.”

“Very. I love them so much.”

“Are you going to visit them soon?”

“Yes. In a few weeks.”

“Can you imagine yourself in my shoes, just for a moment? Would forgiveness be a possibility?” Did you have any right to forgive? Had he done anything so wrong?

The pain in your chest was only yours. Perhaps you had no right to even be speaking of whether to forgive him or not when you had been the delusional one to begin with.

She thought about it carefully, tilting her head in thought. “I have seen how the crown prince acts around you. If that is not love, I am not sure what is. But, if I were married to a man who had assured me of his faithfulness and treated me well and then gone against his word, I do not know I could forgive him. My heart hurts even thinking of such a situation. I know it’s abnormal and maybe unrealistic,” she looked down with a soft smile, “but I really couldn’t stand to share him with anyone else. I suppose I’m very romantic.”

“No,” you smiled sadly. “I understand you. Even though the prince had made no promises to me at the time they made this child, it still hurts. I suppose my feelings are illogical. I wish I knew of a way to make it stop. My grandmother used to say that only time can ease heartache, but it’s so painful I’m not sure I can wait for time to pass.”

You both turned onto the balcony that connected two sides of the palace, feeling the fresh night air brush your faces.

“My older sister told me once that love is different for men and women. A man can love a woman but still need more. His body may require many different women even while his heart is occupied by just one. Women are different, however. Their bodies and hearts are connected. I always thought it was unfair that the gods created humans that way.”

“I own neither his heart nor his body,” you murmured. “He no longer resents me for this union, but he certainly doesn’t love me. And if this is his love, I do not want it.”

Silence fell between you as you walked the length of the balcony, absorbed in the sight of the city, still alive with lights and lanterns. On very quiet nights, when the wind lay low and the clouds cleared, you could faintly here the voices of the capital folk laughing and chatting.

“Let go. I told you I don’t want to speak to you.” Your head turned at the sound of a hushed female voice coming from the darkness at the other end of the walkway. Shadows moved just before a woman around your age came stomping onto the balcony, clearly agitated.

You paused in step, staring at the unfamiliar face. Your eyes widened when you recognised the man behind her.

He took her arm, spinning her to face him again.

“What has gotten into you? Why are you acting this way?” Rindou hissed, frowning in deep discontentment.

“What way? I don’t know what you are talking about. Will you leave me alone, I have things to do,” she snapped.

“I won’t,” he gritted. “You are acting strange. You’ve been acting strange ever since you got back. We should talk about this.”

She continued walking, glancing behind her. “I don’t know what to tell you. I am acting normal but you clearly-” she paused on sight of you, immediately bowing her head. “Crown princess consort, good evening.”

“Good evening.” You looked to Rindou who was gnashing his teeth, clearly frustrated.

He begrudgingly introduced her as his childhood friend, Lady Cerya, though his eyes didn’t leave her once during the introduction. He was glaring at her, but at the same time you recognised the hurt in his eyes. The woman clearly meant a great deal to him.

“I will leave you to converse. Excuse me,” she bowed again and quickly manoeuvred around you, hurrying away.

You turned back to Rindou, who looked even more annoyed than before.

“Fuck!” he suddenly yelled, punching the railing.

You took a startled step back. “Are you okay, Master Rindou?”

He rested his hands on the railing, head hanging between his arms.

“I must ask you to refrain from using such language in the princess’s presence,” Kia informed.

His head turned to face you, hair falling over his eyes. He straightened as if he had only just realised your presence. “Princess. My apologies, I forgot myself.”

“It’s fine,” you shook your head dismissively. “But are you okay? Your hand is bleeding.”

He looked down, seeing the crimson liquid dripping from his knuckles.

“Oh.” He bit his lip, staring at the injury. “Hmm.”

“Rindou?” You touched his arm lightly when it was clear his thoughts had veered off to a different direction again.

“I’m sorry,” he smiled sadly. “I’m just a bit distracted.”

“Are you okay? You seemed upset with that woman.”

“Upset?” he stared at the view. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Can I help with anything?”

He chuckled, low. Shook his head, “I don’t think anything can help with this. Though, it would be nice to have a woman’s opinion so I can try and figure out just what is going on in her stubborn head.”

“You see, she was kidnapped almost a year ago. She was gone for a few months,” Rindou started. His fists had balled on the railing. “A group of men grabbed her and threw her in a carriage.”

You gasped. “That’s terrible. How did she escape?”

“She was found lying unconscious on the capital streets two weeks ago. They let her go. I don’t know why and she is refusing to speak about it. When she was first taken I thought maybe the kidnappers would request a ransom because she’s the daughter of a lord, but it appears that wasn’t their intent as they never made contact. I don’t know what happened to her and she refuses to speak to me,” he murmured. You had never seen him look so depressed, so tired and forlorn. “Every time I get close to her she runs away. I know she’s probably traumatised from what she experienced but I want to help her, she just won’t let me.”

“That’s so awful. I’m sorry. You guys must have been close if you grew up together.”

“Mm,” he nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “She would visit Toku often and when we grew older we started sharing a bed. I was going to ask her to marry me before this happened.”

You swooned on the spot. His eyes were so full of love as he recalled their memories, your inner romantic couldn’t help but emerge.

“So?” He tilted his head at you. “I know I’m meant to be an advisor, but I could use a woman’s advice right now.”

“I wish I knew what to say. I can’t even imagine what she went through and what she must be feeling. She’s probably trying to re-acquaint herself with her normal life. It must be overwhelming. If she underwent any form of mental or physical abuse she’s probably feeling a lot of emotions. Maybe she doesn’t want you to see her like that. Or maybe she just needs time.”

He smiled mirthlessly. “I just hate how it seems she’s completely written me off. Like she doesn’t feel anything for me anymore, or I’m just another person to her.”

You both fell to silence once more before he spoke up again.

“But you don’t give up on the people you love. Even when she doesn’t want me there I’ll be there.”

How beautiful, to have a love like that. You had yearned for it since you were young, when your grandmother used to tell you how important it was to marry a man you loved fully and who loved you the same way. If she had been alive, you wondered if she would have permitted your marriage to Haruchiyo.

You sighed, exhausted from the emotional day and on the verge of tears once more. Utterly miserable, you looked out at the city and didn’t notice Rindou’s eyes on you.

“You look like something is weighing heavily on your mind, too,” he murmured.

You smiled a little, at your own expense. “I guess. I don’t know if you’ve heard but Aika is having Haruchiyo’s baby.”

He continued smiling softly for a moment, staring at you until your words sank in. He straightened. “What?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “Yes, we found out this afternoon.”

“Are you playing a joke?” he stared at you, wide-eyed.

“I wish I was. He’s probably with empress dowager and Aika now.”

Rindou blinked, frowning a little. “I find it hard to believe.”

“I don’t,” you chuckled. “Not at all.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I recall Haruchiyo mentioning in the past that Aika took a contraceptive tonic when Ran asked if he was worried about making her pregnant. She was strongly against having children because of what it could do to her body, which is believable because women like her care about little other than their appearances.”

“Apparently a doctor confirmed it. And Haruchiyo told me it was possible. It hasn’t been too long since they last… I’m sure you know,” you looked down.

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I knew they were still seeing each other even after you married. I should have said something. We did become friends, after all. I suppose I was hoping you wouldn’t ever have feelings for him, because I knew something he did would end up hurting you.”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t be so upset. I know that. I’m trying to think about what to do.”

“No. You have every right to be upset. Love is not logical.”

You supposed so. Your feelings certainly weren’t. But…

You hugged yourself. “I don’t think we love each other.”

He stared at you, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

You frowned. “About what? I know Haruchiyo doesn’t love me.”

Rindou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “He’s really made a mess of things,” he muttered. Looking back at you, “Princess, I have known Haruchiyo for most of my life. Never have I seen him like this before. Not with Aika or any other woman. He can’t take his eyes off you when you’re in the same room. After meetings he rushes off to be with you. He finds stupid excuses to be around you. I’ve seen the change you invoke in him. If that’s not love, perhaps I really don’t know what is.”

Your bottom lip wobbled. How you had wished for a love like the one he was describing when you were young. A love that made you believe you had been put on this earth to love a someone. You had always used to think that was such a wonderful reason to live, but it was not so. Those fantasies had been suppressed when you became a teenager and started your lessons and training, and you learnt to let go of those expectations.

And yet, here you were, heartbroken because maybe for a moment you had believed that Haruchiyo was that person.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“I can hit him for you again.”

That sparked a smile from you. “I might take you up on that offer.”

“Anytime you wish.”

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#sanzu x reader #haruchiyo x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #haruchiyo akashi x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers series #bonten series #haruchiyo sanzu series #haruchiyo akashi series #rins.works

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ot7always · 4 years ago

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My Fair Lady

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: Crown Prince!Taehyung x Captain of the Guard!Reader

Genre: Historical/Fantasy AU, fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: Sparring (swordfight/fistfight), I’ve literally never fenced in my life I’m sorry for any errors, pining, mentions of battle scars, angst angst angst, angsty sex, crying during sex (and not in a sexy way), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, it’s super angsty but I promise it’ll be okay

Rating: 18+

Summary: His brother unable to spar with him that day, Crown Prince Taehyung comes to you in need of a partner.

A/N: This fic was such a wild ride of a writing experience, and I literally lost chunks of writing because of my laptop crashing multiple times. But this fic is my baby, please let me know what you think!

Huge thanks to @wwilloww for beta reading for me, and also @peekaboongi for crying with me as I wrote.

Tagging @moonmintrails @ppersonna @irissilujm @dee-ehn

Masterlist

You gaze swept across the palace training grounds, hands clasped firmly behind your back. You watched as your soldiers trained, whether it be alone or with each other, and kept an eye out for any glaring errors – incorrect form, weak footwork, and the like.

As the youngest Captain of the Guard in history, it was your duty to ensure each of your soldiers, men and women alike, were in prime condition. Though the position was not passed through bloodlines, you had taken over from your father following his retirement from duty. He was a very well-respected man, and you were determined not to disappoint him. You would continue to prove time and time again that you deserved the honour of your place.

You kept your eyes forward even as you sensed a tall presence settle beside you, taking on a similar stance to your own.

“My Lady,” a deep voice greeted. Your nose crinkled at the title. While it was true your family was of noble station, you much preferred to be addressed as “Captain.” You sought to distance yourself from your cousins who enjoyed hosting fancy balls and tittering about the latest messenger visiting from overseas.

You gave the man beside you a brief once-over, eyes quickly returning to your soldiers in the field. The Crown Prince was looking particularly fresh today, white cotton shirt laced neatly and tucked into black pants that moulded to him like water. His dark curls appeared freshly washed, small tendrils swaying in the wind, having escaped the small tie at the nape of his neck. He smelled suspiciously of lavender. Perhaps he had been delving into his sister’s perfumes once again.

“Your Highness,” you nodded curtly, ignoring the pang in your chest at his appearance. While you tried to put up a good front, you were not immune to the Prince’s charms.

“You know I don’t like when you call me that,” he smiled bashfully at his feet before turning the entirety of his attention to you. “I am in need of a favour,” he continued, gaze imploring.

“What can I do for you, Your Highness?” you responded, suppressing a smirk when you heard him sigh at your words. Having grown up around him, even sharing lessons and training together before you surpassed his abilities, you would consider the two of you friends – more, even. However, you had an image to keep up, barriers that needed to be kept in place lest anyone question your ability to prioritize the royal family’s safety without distraction.

“I require a sparring partner.”

“Do you forget yourself, Your Highness?” you grinned at the notion. Not many dared to challenge you to a fight, and the last time Taehyung matched you in skill he was perhaps a foot or two shorter.

“I beg of you, Captain. My brother is feeling out of sorts and I am in need of a distraction. I have been meeting with courtiers all morning and I cannot begin to express how tiring-”

“He’s taken ill?” you cut in, eyes wide and tone laced with concern as you finally turned to give the Prince your undivided attention. His younger brother was only 15, and you had developed a soft spot for the boy over the years. The plague which tended to come and go from your Kingdom was no joke. While many recovered, many more slowly but surely lost their lives.

“Don’t worry yourself too much, My Lady. Our doctors have assured us it is simply a minor ailment.” His heart warmed at your obvious affection for his brother, knowing how much you cherished his younger siblings. He wondered whether he himself held a similar place in your heart. “Let’s not concentrate on that which will resolve itself quickly in time. Rather, I am still in dire need of a partner. Please?” he appeased, giving you his best impression of a pout. You tried not to crack a smile at the resemblance to his sister.

Your hesitation did not last long – you found it difficult to deny Taehyung anything, not that he asked much of you very often. “Very well, then. Though, we are not exactly dressed for the occasion, are we?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes. It was true. Having only recently left a meeting with those who would accompany Their Majesties to town the next day, you were dressed in a white blouse, dark leather bodice laced on top. While your leather boots allowed for sufficient footwork, the suppressed movement of your torso was not exactly ideal for a fight.

“We both know that you are more than capable of fighting in such attire. Come,” he said, giving you no time to refuse before you were led to the central combat ring. The ring was often used to host friendly tournaments and was clearly visible from any spot in the field.

“Are you so keen to showcase your defeat to my entire squadron?” you teased, shooting the Prince a grin as you caught the foil he tossed to you. Light, thin, and dull, it ensured you did not cause any serious injury lest you accidentally hit him. Cotton, after all, was not the most ideal material to prevent bruising. As for you? Well, you didn’t plan on getting hit anyway.

You took up your position opposite him, bent slightly at the knee, sword in hand, opposing hand clenched comfortably behind your back. You watched as Taehyung settled into the same posture. You clicked your tongue in disapproval upon seeing his form. Shoulders tense already, you sighed. Well, you would just have to see if he fixed his error later on.

“Ready when you are, Sweet Prince,” you smirked, exhaling a laugh as his face flushed. It was a nickname given to him by the men and women he’d seduced and bedded over the years. Even if he’d invited them into his bed only once and never again, they never stopped singing his praises. A part of you was desperate to know what he did to impress them.

“I don’t have all day, Your Highness,” you called out, smile slowly lighting up your face at his embarrassment. A lie, of course. If he asked you to stand there and wait for hours while you simply stared at each other you would do it. You liked to tell yourself it was because of your royal duty, but in reality you had never been able to say no to him, even in your childhood. There was something so charming yet shy, so mature yet naïve about him, that had you wishing for his happiness at every moment. He was a walking contradiction you wanted nothing more than to solve.

Having collected himself, Taehyung launched himself at you quickly, sword flying its way toward your shoulder – easily parried. You figured the two of you would ease into a proper match. After all, neither of you were properly warmed up, and you refused to listen to the Prince’s complaining of sore muscles if you could avoid it.

You remained light on your feet, focusing solely on defending against his basic lunges rather than attempting to retaliate. That would come in time. It wouldn’t be so enjoyable if you didn’t toy with him just a little, right?

After several minutes of rather simple steps, you figured you were ready to break a sweat. The next time his blade swung at you, you batted it aside and thrust your own at his chest, tip poking into his shirt before he could even blink.

“Come now, Your Highness. Shall we see what my father taught you?” you taunted, backing away to your original position. Your heart warmed when you saw the fire light in his eyes at the challenge, his playful expression temporarily replaced by sheer focus. You couldn’t conclude which was more handsome.

The next time he flew at you, it was with newfound ardour, the clink of metal on metal a familiar symphony to your ears. The Prince was skilled, you would give him that. Not that you were surprised – you recalled a time in his youth when he dedicated himself fully to training in this exact spot.

You gave yourself fully to your reflexes, blade swinging left, right, and circling round as you blocked his attacks. Quickly side-stepping a stab toward your neck, you grinned. Despite your original hesitance, you were enjoying yourself. Seeing the sweat form on Taehyung’s brow from his effort, you were happy to see him dedicate himself to something so completely. His technique focused on agility over power, something well-suited to his long limbs and lean muscle. You were the same – fight smart, not hard, your father used to tell you.

Backing away suddenly, Taehyung pouted slightly as he caught his breath. “I can tell that you are going easy on me, Captain. At least try to hit me, I swear to you that I can handle it.” You chuckled at his words.

“Very well, Your Highness. Though if I may point out, perhaps it would serve you better if you relaxed your muscles more. How can you expect to hit me when your shoulder fails to follow through?” you chided. Taehyung bit his lip at your words.

“My apologies, Captain. I find it difficult when I am near you.” Your brows furrowed, unsure whether you heard correctly. He has trouble relaxing around you? You preferred not to pick apart such a statement.

In answer, you lunged at him, a tide of satisfaction flowing through you when he moved immediately in response. You allowed him to continue on the offensive, though this time you followed up every few parries with a riposte, ensuring you never actually hit him with your blade.

Steel was flying through the air so fast it was a blur, your focus lying solely on the flurry of blades between your bodies. You quickly lost track of time, though based on the slight burn in your calves the activity must have gone on for quite a while.

It became almost like a rhythm – feet dancing, you blocked thrice, circling around for a responding thrust. Little did you know, in your focus you missed Taehyung’s wistful glances as he took in your appearance – gaze sharp, hair around your face flying as it escaped your tight knot at the back.

While you did your best not to make contact, your efforts were not perfect. Because as the Prince stepped left rather than right as you had expected, your blade made full and hard contact with his abdomen, confirmed by the faint oof that accompanied the motion. Broken out of your trance, you stared wide-eyed. “My apologies-”

You let down your guard for only a moment, but it was enough for him to swipe your blade aside, his own resting right between your collarbones. Raising your eyes to meet his own, you found only a grin, no sign of pain. That little-

“KIM TAEHYUNG!!!” you bellowed, ignoring the nearby gasps at your blatant show of disrespect. The eldest soldiers only shook their heads in dismay, having become used to your antics over the years. You whipped the side of his blade with your own, force enough to send it flying out of his grasp. “I was worried about you!” you shouted, stalking your way over to his retreating body, met only by a full-bodied laugh and hands raised to defend himself.

He took hold of your shoulders, keeping you at arms’ length as you glared up at him. The look only sent him into another fit of laughter. “The look on your face was magnificent, Captain,” he snickered, ignoring the betrayal on your face. “I’m perfectly fine, also. You needn’t worry so much-”

“Oh, you will not be fine by the time I’m done with you, Your Highness,” you seethed, picking up his discarded blade only to chuck it at him with just a little more force than necessary. “If you wanted a fight, Kim Taehyung, you’ve found one. I will pray for your recovery.”

Taking up your position for the third time of the afternoon, you scanned his features opposite you. He had no blaring weak spots, though you would be surprised if he did after all his years of training. He was fast, though you would bet that you were faster. Defeating him at his full capabilities would not be extremely easy, but if you gave it perhaps 80% you supposed you could be done within minutes.

“Any last words?” you goaded, grinning at the fleck of worry that crossed his face. “You look afraid, Your Highness.”

“It is perhaps in my best interest to remain a bit afraid, My Lady,” he chuckled lightly, eyes keen as they awaited your first movement. The narrowed your eyes, taking him in, planning your actions. He’s not wrong, you thought. Everyone in this field was just a little bit afraid.

Taehyung jumped when your blade made contact with his own, a high-pitched screech ringing out as he fought you off. You gave him no time to contemplate his own actions before you lunged relentlessly at him, delivering strike after strike without pause. He was forced to remain on the defensive, putting in his full effort to parry and step away in time.

Despite his struggle, you were impressed he was able to keep up with you as well as he was. He’s been training more, you noted. His improvement was clear compared to the last time you fought only several months ago. However, in a game of stamina, you were sure to win.

The top of your bodice dug sharply into your chest as your breaths quickened, but you were no stranger to discomfort. Over time you had learned to put aside such trivial things. Aches and pains were part of your job, and you’d be damned if you didn’t do it well.

Unwilling to let go of your pride, your steps quickened, Taehyung’s blade moving frantically to keep up but inevitably slowing slightly as you did not give him time to breathe. If you hadn’t focused all of your energy into this alone with no distractions, you perhaps would have poked fun at him.

When his sword arm lagged only slightly behind, arms slightly too wide, slightly too open, you struck hard. Batting his blade to the side only centimetres above where he held it in his grasp, you simpered, watching his shocked face as his blade went flying. His eyes darted between you and the blade, metres away, seemingly contemplating whether to give up or to pounce on it.

“What now, Little Prince? If this were a battlefield, would you simply cower in fear?” you coerced, eyes predatory. Perhaps it was sadistic of you, but you relished in the look of dismay in Taehyung’s face. He’d been thoroughly defeated – it was only a matter of how long you would draw it out.

Tossing your own foil to the side, you stretched your limbs before beckoning him over, fists positioned in front of you. It was a petty move and you knew it, for soldiers were much more well-versed in hand-to-hand combat than the Crown Prince, who was known to favour his swords and bows.

Taehyung had no complaints, however. A fight was a fight, after all. As he came after you with one, two, three jabs to your chest, you danced aside as you evaded easily. The difference in speed between his punches and sword thrusts were clear, the former much less practiced than the latter.

You unfortunately had not thought this idea through, because your options for victory without injuring the Prince were limited. While you were aware Taehyung would not mind, it would not be the best image for you to beat the life out of the Kingdom’s Crown Prince in open view of a squadron sworn to protect him.

“Are you so eager for my company that you would draw this out?” he joked, a weak punch toward your face easily shoved out of the way by your forearm. “Or perhaps you find pleasure in cornering me, My Lady?”

“You think so highly of yourself, Your Highness. Is it so disconcerting to find yourself put in your place every so often?”

“Quite the opposite, I think. I’ve never enjoyed myself so much,” he beamed, eyes shining. “I’ve quite missed you, Captain.” You faltered at the admission. While you loved to give him a hard time, you knew he was well aware of your fondness for him. However, you don’t believe you’ve ever said something so forthright to each other, and the statement awakened something in you that you thought you had buried deep.

Noting your slightly frozen state, Taehyung charged at you. However, you would not be fooled twice. The audacity of this man-

Twisting your arm to grab hold of his, you leaped forward. Suddenly taking the force of your full weight, Taehyung had nowhere to go but down, groaning as his back thudded against the canvas floor. Knee digging itself into the Prince’s ribcage below you, you sighted your previously discarded blade nearby. Grabbing hold of it, you held it to his throat.

“Yield,” you whispered, words escaping you much softer than intended. He made no effort to move, only staring up into your face with unspeakable emotion.

“And what if I am happy where I am, My Lady?” he murmured, taking in your appearance. Chest heaving, escaped hair wet with sweat, blouse crinkled – you were perhaps the finest sight he’d ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. Though his words might have been taken for humour, you saw the look on his face. He didn’t even attempt to mask the desire, shameless through and through.

Before you could even think to respond, smatterings of applause broke out across the field at your victorious display, though they could not even begin to understand what was happening between the two of you. Moment broken, you quickly hopped up, helping Taehyung to his feet but avoiding his gaze. You were afraid to admit how much your heart fluttered when you heard his words, afraid of how much it would hurt when you would be forced to walk away and never speak of this moment again.

It was for the best.

“Y/N,” he called out softly, hands reaching for your own, but maintaining a respectful distance. Your eyes flew up to meet his, unused to hearing your own name in the palace nowadays. The look he gave you was honest, sincere. “Do you feel this too?”

You paused. Though he didn’t quite say what this meant, you could guess. In fact, his knowing gaze told you he only wanted you to admit what he already knew. The man had always been perceptive, and you had more memories with him than with your own family. You were certain he was familiar with your every expression. After all, you could write novels about his face – the way his eyes shone in his passion, the way the corners of his lips twitched when he was repressing a scowl.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Pleading ignorance was the best defense. Admitting to your desires was foolish, and would not change your circumstances. You knew this was deeper than physical desires, but that just made it all the more impossible. Princes were destined for arranged marriage – nobody could simply form a relationship with a future King, least of all the soldier who has pledged her life to his parents. No, a proper relationship was not within the realm of possibility. But neither could you lay with the Crown Prince in good conscience – how would the public trust you to put the King and Queen’s safety above all else if you were warming their Prince’s bed?

Every option to act on your desires was fated for failure.

Taehyung’s hands moved from your palms to your wrists, his thumbs pressing into your pulse firmly. “Your heart is racing,” he murmured, eyes staring into your own as though he knew your every secret. “Why do you hide it?”

“You know why,” you stated, voice soft. “Of course I feel it, but it matters not.” The admission coming from your own lips shocked you. You had danced around each other for years, orbiting each other like binary stars, but you’d never admitted your attraction to him.

“It matters to me,” he whispered, thumb stroking at the soft skin of your wrists with care. “Come to my chambers after dinner.”

Your brows shot up at the suggestion. This was not a light request. You were no longer children, no longer laughed in his company until the maids shooed you away, chiding you for making so much noise.

This was real. As much as you grew to accept your desires, you had never even fathomed acting on them. Not when you knew it couldn’t last – not when your reputation, perhaps even your position, were at stake. “Your Highness, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Please,” he begged, staring into you with an expression you would liken to a puppy begging for scraps. You attempted to turn away, but he only followed. “Please,” he repeated, noting your conflicted expression. It was hard to deny him anything when he was looking at you like that, but even harder to deny yourself when every part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes.

“Very well,” you breathed, sealing your fate. “I shall come when the clock strikes eight, Your Highness.”

You couldn’t do it. As much as your heart craved him more than anything, you couldn’t. He was untouchable. If you were any other person, if you were just a court lady, you would jump at the chance. It wasn’t a secret that the Prince has had many partners, and nobody gave it a second thought. But to be with you?

It was improper. Impossible. How could you be trusted to do your duty fully and objectively if you’d laid with the Crown Prince?

After bathing, you made your way to his bedchambers, clad only in a loose blouse and cotton pants, hair flowing freely around your shoulders, still wet. You could not join him in his bed, but he at least deserved a rejection in person rather than your absence.

Knocking lightly on the door, you were startled when it swung open, your arm still raised. He gave you such a sweet smile it was almost painful, still dressed in his earlier attire but hair loose around his face. You stepped into the room, taking in its appearance, having not seen the room in years. It smelled of him, of vanilla and lavender and musk, a scent you would breathe for the rest of your life if it was possible. The room was exactly as you remembered it, mostly barren if not for the set of throwing knives on display – a gift from your father for the Prince’s coming-of-age.

“I’m so glad you came-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off, turning to face him. “I came to put a stop to this before it’s begun, Your Highness. You're trying to start something that will be too painful to cease.” Your words struck him, and it physically pained you to see his face transform from excitement to distress.

“But I am not imagining what we have, am I? I have longed for you for years. Am I wrong to think you have too?” he pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Your Highness. We can’t possibly do this – think about it. Not only that, I cannot have the palace thinking I earned my position through your bed. There are so many reasons we cannot – I want you but I cannot have you!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you couldn’t help it in your grief. Eyes brimming with unshed tears of frustration, it hurt to look at him standing so close, and yet so out of reach.

At your anguish, Taehyung reached for your face, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t even notice had fallen. His tenderness only sent another wave of sorrow through you, chest heavy. “I’m sorry. I know it was selfish to call you here. I know this is easier for me than you. Please forget I ever asked.”

“I know it’s wrong, but...”

“But?” he urged gently.

“Is it so foolish that I want it anyway?” you whispered. You looked at him wide-eyed, gaze pained, searching his face as if it held the answers to the universe. For you, perhaps it did.

“Y/N...” he begun, the sweet sound of your name coming from his lips the final nail in your coffin. Denying that you wanted this more than anything would be the greatest lie you’ve ever told. It was brash, and stupid, and irresponsible, but you wanted to feel this at least once. You wanted to indulge in his touch, his affection. You needed to feel his hands on you, his mouth on your skin, and you didn’t know if you would ever be brave enough to accept him again if you didn’t do it now.

“It can only be once. Nobody can know.” You couldn’t risk the noblewomen catching on to your activities. They were unusually observant, and you didn’t doubt their abilities to discern your relationship with even the faintest of hints. Taehyung knew better than anybody that the palace ladies treated gossip as currency, and word traveled especially quickly on matters involving him. He nodded at your words, but the grave look on his face told you he wished things were different.

“I will cherish our time together, My Lady” he breathed, but his conflicted expression spoke volumes. “We don’t have to do this-”

You shook your head, closing the space between you until your chests were pressed together. Stomach in knots and chest tight, you ran your fingers along his broad chest and down to his abdomen before wrapping them loosely around his waist. You would savour every touch, make note of every expression, save away every delightful noise from his lips, and you would pray for it to be enough to satiate you for a lifetime. Because it had to be.

Tilting your head back to meet his eyes, your heart nearly leapt from your throat at the look on his face. The adoration, the warmness – but most of all, the pain. This was torture for both of you, and you knew it. It was selfish and self-destructive, but the two of you always seemed to bring out both the best and the worst in each other.

Without speaking, you reached up to grab hold of his head, yanking it down to smash your lips together without ceremony. He responded with fervor, moving against you, arms tugging until there was not even a millimetre of space between your bodies. You tried not to think about the desperation in your movements, the saltiness of the tears still present on your face. You dragged your hands over the planes of his chest and down to his biceps, nails digging in slightly when he bit at your bottom lip.

Harshly tugging his shirt from his waistband, you traced your nails up his bare skin, relishing in the uneven breath he let out in response. You would dedicate yourself to memorizing every inch of him. Every dip, every curve would be ingrained in your mind for eternity, your hands tracing patterns into his skin like a brush on canvas.

He did the same to you, his large hands finding their way beneath your blouse and chemise, lifting them both above your head to toss them to the floor. You were bare underneath, having planned to leave for your own bedchambers only minutes after arriving. He sucked in a breath at the sight of you on display entirely for him. His careful fingers traced the scars on your abdomen, accumulated through years of training and fighting on the frontlines. While ugly, you were not ashamed – these were proofs to others and to yourself that you would put your Kingdom above all else.

Bending at the knee, he traced his mouth down your jaw, down your throat, kissing you reverently as he continued his path. Passing over your breasts, he moved lower to mouth gently at the scars littering your belly, his gentle presses causing new tears to spring to your eyes. Was this how it felt to be worshipped? To be loved?

Taehyung took in the sorrow painting your features, but did not comment. There was nothing to be said – he understood perfectly. Perhaps if he pressed his face more firmly into the softness of your skin, he would spare you having to see the twin look of despair he was unable to hide.

Sliding a hand into his hair, you softly brushed it away from his face, gently pulling his chin up to look at you. Your heart wrenched at the sight of him, eyes looking at you as though you were a treasure, as though you weren’t the thing causing him so much pain. As though you wouldn’t leave him alone after this.

Tugging lightly at the collar of his shirt, he quickly got the memo, shucking it off in a direction you didn’t see, too focused on what was just revealed to you. If not for the honeyed gold of his skin, you would have been convinced he was carved of marble. You traced the lines of his body, a tiny smile breaking through at the shudder he gave when your nails scratched over his nipples. Though your actions were slow, he did not rush you. He only watched the awe in your gaze, eyes wide as though if you blinked, he would disappear. The childlike wonder in your face warmed his heart, pleased that you would let your guard down here with him.

You blinked out of your stupor at the sensation of a warm hand on your cheek, the sight of Taehyung’s soft grin at your antics lighting a small fire of embarrassment in you. “Bed?” he asked lightly, nuzzling his face into your neck. The hot breaths near your ear sent a shiver down your spine, tugging him ever-so-closer as you nodded in response.

Pulling away from him, you tugged lightly at the drawstrings to your pants, biting your lip when you saw the Prince follow your every movement. Taking his hands into your own, you brought them to your waistband. “Help me,” you breathed, heart racing at the knowledge that you would soon be laid bare to him.

He took a deep breath before releasing the knot at your waist, tugging your pants ever so slowly down your legs. He knelt at your feet, removing the fabric from your ankles until the only cloth left on your body is your underwear. Eyes falling on your face, he thumbed the waistband, looking up at you in question. At your quiet “please,” he removed that too, your folds revealed to him, shiny with your arousal.

Groaning at the sight, Taehyung latched onto your clit before you could even process the movement, the sudden pleasure making you weak in the knees. He sucked at your bud lightly, taking pleasure in the way you sunk your hands into his hair to ground yourself. When you wobbled slightly in your bliss, his left arm rose to hold you steady at the waist.

When his other hand rose to thumb through your folds while his mouth continued its ministrations, you moaned out. Eyes falling down to observe the Prince, the sight brought a small whimper to your lips, your hips grinding down onto him. He looked absolutely sinful, his eyes heavy-lidded as he delved into your heat with such abandon, focused entirely on your pleasure. When he inserted a finger into you, quickly followed by another upon feeling your wetness, you were sure you would have fallen if not for his arm holding you steady.

“What-” you started, but ended up cutting yourself off with a loud moan at the sensation of his fingers scissoring inside you. “What happened to going to bed?” you managed to get out, utterly breathless.

You let out a gasp when he pulled from you abruptly in response, picking you up at the waist and throwing you onto his mattress. You had no time to reprimand him before he was spreading your legs, mouth and fingers returning to you as he joined you on the bed. Any words were stolen from your throat at the stretch of a third finger, your hips bucking up to get closer to the source of your pleasure.

“You taste so good,” he moaned out, panting. You didn’t miss the way he grinded his clothed crotch into the sheets, heat shooting through you at the sight. When his fingers curled inside you, the heat spread throughout your whole body, abdomen tight and walls clenching tightly around his fingers. You were so close to the edge, it would take only one breath before you fell over.

“Give it to me, please,” he pleaded, tongue flicking over your clit as his fingers continued to nudge that spongy spot inside you. Needing no more encouragement, you fell apart, moans forced from your throat, hips grinding against him as he worked you through your orgasm. When a dull ache begun to replace the pleasure, you pulled away from him, pushing him onto his back.

His arousal was clear, his cock straining in his tight pants enough that it must have hurt. Though, his face held no complaint, only dazed wonderment clear on his features, almost as if he still couldn’t believe what was happening. He let out a sharp hiss as your nails traced the outline of his cock, his teeth biting furiously at his bottom lip.

Deciding not to torture him after the ecstasy he brought you, you tugged his pants and underwear down in one go, Taehyung groaning in relief as his cock sprung free. The tip was angry and red, the slit leaking precum. After freeing him of his clothing, you reached out a hand to pump lightly at his cock, noting the way it twitched in your hold. It looked almost painful, the vein running up the underside big and angry.

You began to lower your mouth to him, eager to return the pleasure he gave you, but were halted by a gentle hand on your cheek. “Please,” he begged, “I can’t. I need you,” he expressed all in one breath, eyes pained and needy.

Taking mercy on him, you rose, shifting until you were seated in his lap, mouth seeking his out. He cried out into your mouth at the sensation of your slick folds rocking against him, grinding down onto his cock. Hand reaching down to position him at your entrance, you pulled your face away to watch his as you sunk yourself slowly onto his length. The moan you let out at the stretch was crude, and it didn’t appear that Taehyung was faring any better, his breaths coming in pants, eyes screwed shut.

He’s beautiful like this, you thought, your own eyes wanting to badly to flutter closed, but your need to take in his every expression won out. Your head tipped back in pleasure as you seated yourself fully, moans escaping as you rocked against him, his pelvis pressing into your clit.

Losing yourself in the sensation, you fell forward to bury your face into Taehyung’s neck, his scent only adding to your pleasure. His hips rocked against your own, thrusts shallow, both of you letting out low moans at the movement. The friction against your clit had your abdomen tightening again, his tender hold on your body the best thing you’d ever felt. But as the pleasure reared in on you again, it was at that moment you remembered the totality of your situation.

You would never get this again.

The thought was like ice-water thrown over your head. How could you have forgotten? His cock deep inside you, his hips rising to meet your own, his hand clutching at the small of your back, his moans – it was all temporary.

You shoved your face tightly into his shoulder, hoping your sob would disguise itself as a moan. But at the shaking of your shoulders, Taehyung paused his actions, hand rising to cradle your head. “Y/N?”

“Tae,” you cried out, heart wrenching. It wasn’t lost on him that this was the first time he’s properly heard his name from your lips since your promotion – no teasing, no games. His heart broke at the sound, your sobs guttural, and he wanted nothing more than to take the pain away. The gravity of the situation brought tears to his own eyes, unable to suppress the emotion any longer.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, your head lifting to meet his glassy eyes. Your eyes were red-rimmed, your lips quivering. This was an agony that only the two of you could ever understand.

“Taehyung, I-” you faltered, choking on a sob. I love you. You couldn’t say it. What good could it bring you now? But your eyes spoke volumes, the emotion clear on your face. He knew how you felt just as much as you knew how he felt.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he repeated, tears finally escaping his eyes as he tugged you closer. There was no way to be more intimate than this, arms cradling each other as you cried, his cock still nestled inside you.

It would have to be enough.

As your bodies shifted minutes later, the friction against you had you shivering, remembering the position you were in. You pulled your head from his neck to gaze at his face, his eyes meeting your own. It hurt, but there was sad acceptance in your eyes, mirrored in his own. You tried to force a small smile onto your face, but you were unsure whether it appeared as a grimace. You instead elected to press a soft kiss to his lips, eyes falling closed as he returned it.

You rocked your hips together slowly, relishing in the light sighs and quiet moans of the other. Your movements were tender, careful, full of love and affection you would never get the chance to verbalize. When you felt your release creeping up on you again, you arched your back, grinding into his pelvis. Wanting to help you along, Taehyung grabbed hold of your hips, holding you steady as he thrusted up into you, every so often holding himself deep, grinding against you. The emotion of it all had your breath caught in your throat, your orgasm washing over you in gentle waves as you writhed against his body.

You could tell he was coming undone, his thrusts erratic, breaths heavy as he pulled away from you to leave open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone. You moaned at the overwhelming sensation of his movements so soon after your orgasm, but you wouldn’t dare rob him of his pleasure. Not now, not like this.

Groaning loudly, you felt his cock twitch inside you as he continued his thrusts, feeling the warmth of his release coating your walls. He shook in your arms, and you couldn’t bring yourself to confirm whether he was overwhelmed with pleasure or sorrow.

Letting out a whine as you pulled yourself off him, you wiped the mess between your legs on his sheets. His maids would clean for him come sunrise, and you were anxious to escape the room before you lost yourself fully to despair.

You allowed yourself to bask in his presence momentarily, laying alongside him for several minutes before you rose to get dressed. You kept your back to him, unwilling to show weakness despite your vulnerability only moments ago.

“Stay,” he begged, his voice still husky from the passion you’d shared. Your heart sunk at the suggestion. You wanted nothing more than to stay, but every minute you spent here knowing the outcome only shattered you a bit more.

Fully dressed, you made your way to the door. You could still feel where his hands touched you, where his lips pressed against you, where his cock had been inside you. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, misery colouring your tone. You turned to him, taking in his bare appearance for the last time. You stared, hoping to burn the image into your retinas.

“I know,” was his only response. What more was there to say? Your eyes swept over each other, locking this moment away in your hearts forever. Finally, you turned back to the door, turning the knob and stepping out into the hallway without looking back. The sound of the hinge falling into place behind you felt like waking up from a dream, the period at the end of a sentence.

Your tears fell freely and silently as you made your way back to your chambers. Your heart ached a bit more with the increasing distance, every step leaving a piece of you behind.

It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? You supposed whoever could claim such a thing had never loved like this. Because walking away left your heart in a million pieces, the only glue that could piece you back together still staring at his empty sheets, the dip from where your body once laid still warm to the touch.

Months went by without speaking of that night. The tonic you’d taken upon returning to your room had worked well, your body having bled weeks later. You had still talked to Taehyung – you had to; your duty required it. But the pain never ceased, only dulled. You told yourself you would move on, that there was no use in dwelling. But the heated glances you caught him directing at you, desire and heartbreak in his eyes, always took you right back to that night.

He hadn’t been with anyone since – not that you were listening. You couldn’t help but to overhear the palace ladies gossiping, spreading word of the Crown Prince denying their advances. You didn’t know what to do with the information.

Having just returned from mapping out Their Majesties route to a neighbouring city, you returned your horse to the stables. While not necessary, you much preferred to prepare yourself for every possibility of attack, taking note of any weaknesses in visibility along the path. Every second counts when you’re under attack, after all.

“Captain!” a voice called out to you urgently. Having just handed off your horse to the stablehand, you turned to meet the man, his hands on his knees as if he had just run a mile before coming here. “I have been looking for you everywhere, Captain. Their Majesties have requested your presence in the throne room.” Unusual, since you had met together only this morning, but you would not keep them waiting.

“Thank you, sir. I will head there now.”

You went directly to the throne room, pausing outside to nod to the royal family’s assistant stationed outside. He smiled to you briefly before pushing the door open.

“Captain Y/N to see you, Your Majesties.”

“Let her in, thank you,” a kind, feminine voice rang out.

You stepped inside quickly, taking a knee until the King gestured for you to stand. “I deeply apologize for my appearance, Your Majesties. I had just returned from planning our route for tomorrow and thought it better not to leave you waiting.”

The King smiled at you, the warm-hearted expression reminding you of Taehyung’s. Your chest ached at the thought, but you kept a blank expression. “Hard at work as always, I see. We had something we would like to discuss with you.” At his words, you noticed that not only were the King and Queen present, but Taehyung was stood off to the side as well. Your heartrate increased slightly at the sight of him.

“Your Highness. Forgive my disrespect, I had not seen you there,” you bowed respectfully, ignoring the heat that rushed through you at his appearance. His hair was loose, his outfit form-fitting. He was beautiful. You tried not to think too much on what he looked like beneath the clothes. “What can I do for you, Your Majesties?”

“Captain, my son came to us earlier today with quite the startling proposition,” he began, and your brows furrowed in confusion. When he failed to elaborate, you spoke up.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Your Majesty.”

“You see, he came to us in a frenzy and asked, ‘Father, what would you say if I wanted to marry the Captain of the Guard?’” You froze, eyes wide. Marry? You? Taehyung? Your heart pounded violently at the notion.

“Sire, I promise you this was not my idea. I apologize-”

“My dear, do not panic. We are not angry. But we wanted to ask your thoughts.”

“Your Majesties, I couldn’t possibly marry your son.” You made effort not to look at the Prince, lest your composure fail. “I have no lands to offer. No gold, nothing. I cannot offer you any alliance, I cannot bring anything to your family,” you turned to Taehyung, his expression unreadable. “You cannot marry a soldier,” you whispered, heart breaking once again as the possibility was dangled in front of you, lingering just beyond reach.

“Captain, do you know that the people adore you? That they sing your praises when we pass through their villages?” the Queen asked, a bright smile painting her features. Your face grew hot at the mention. “Your soldiers respect you. Your hometown throws festivals in honour of your birthday. Dare I say that you’re more popular than us?” she joked, giggle chiming lightly through the room. Taking in her appearance and mannerisms, it was no question why Taehyung was as handsome and as loved as he was.

“Ma’am, of course not,” you responded, hand raising to awkwardly scratch at your head. You were unsure where she was going with the statement.

“You’ve earned the Kingdom’s trust, Captain. You’re perhaps the most loyal person I’ve ever laid eyes on. Might I also add that you are not just some nobody? Your family has served ours for generations. You are of noble birth,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Do you consider yourself so unworthy?”

You paused at the question. It did not seem to be a trap, and the Queen was certainly not one to be malicious. Glancing around the room, you noted the King and Prince were observing your reaction expectantly. It was not an environment good for your nerves. “A soldier is not fit to be the future Queen,” is the statement you settled for, attempting to maintain a mask of indifference.

“My dear, do you remember what you told me only a few years ago? When I asked you if you were afraid of trying to accomplish what nobody else in history has?” the King’s deep voice rang out. Your gaze snapped up, knowing exactly what he was about to say. Oh no...

“‘Damn history. I will write my own history,’ I think it was.” Chuckles broke out across the room, the Queen tittering, Taehyung snickering. You’d never told Taehyung about that encounter, embarrassment flowing through you every time you thought about it. You focused your gaze on your feet, face burning at the reminder of your words.

“I have since learned to control my words, Sire,” you muttered ashamedly, fingers tangling together.

“Y/N,” the King’s voice called, grabbing your attention once again. “You have guts. Daring. You’re smart, well-trained. And there’s nobody I would trust to guard my life more than you.” You bit your lip at the praise, struggling to hide a proud grin. Being praised by the King was a feat not many experienced. “It would be an honour to call you our daughter.”

You stared, slack-jawed, processing his words. You didn’t notice Taehyung approaching you until his fingers laced with your own, his opposing hand moving to raise your chin. The open affection on his face, the love - it was everything you’d ever dreamed of and nothing you’d ever dared hope for. Your breathing quickened as he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Please,” he beseeched, vulnerability clear on his face. “Spend eternity with me, together. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled your eyes, but for once they were tears of joy, not tears of despair. You dropped to your knees to meet him, arms thrown around his neck. He barely had time to catch you as you threw yourself at him, bodies the closest they’ve been since that night in his bed. Raising your head to lock your eyes on his, you knew the same love you had for him was written all over your face.

“Yes,” you cried, hands raising to cup his jaw. “Yes.”

#vantaenet #heartsforbts #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #bts historical au

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starfaring-princelotor · 6 years ago

Text

Fourth Sight

Summary: Sincline returns to your reality, but something is...wrong.

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★

Warnings: Blood, starvation, vague mention of suicide.

Touch Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Taste Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Sight Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four

“Day one in the Rift. The Paladins of Voltron have left me to rot in the quintessence field. Sincline’s internal engine has overheated from their final blow. And yet, somehow I still live. No matter, I must get out of here. I know not how much time has passed or how long I have been unconscious, but Sincline is unresponsive to any of my commands.”

Lotor stabilized his breathing, knowing that oxygen would be a valuable resource which he could not squander right now. His suit could only last for so long and if he wasn’t able to get Sincline back up and running, then he would suffocate to death. Time was limited. His body ached something fierce, yet he couldn’t quite be sure if it was because of the fight or due to being in the Rift for...minutes? Hours? Days?

He slipped on his helmet then leaned back into the seat. He can do this. He has to.

“Day five in the Rift. The structural integrity of Sincline has held, which is a good thing. The main generator seems to have taken minimal damage from the blast. On the downside, it is still unresponsive. I can only assume that most, if not all, of the internal wires have burnt out.”

The Emperor was floating in the never ending whiteness, hands prying open the back panel of the immobilized mech with familiarity. Just as he thought. His deft fingers held the frayed wires in front of his face, eyes scrutinizing it to see if there was any chance of salvaging them. No such luck. He wasn’t able to start up Sincline without the right amount of quintessence.

Wait. That was it. Quintessence.

“I have a plan. The Rift is full of quintessence. If I can find a way to transfer it to the core power, then maybe…”

“Come on...Sincline, come on!” Lotor gritted his teeth together, trying his damn best to get any sort of reaction out of the machine.

Yet, no matter what he did, whether changing the mechanics of the interior engine or rewiring only the necessities, nothing worked. Lotor doesn’t understand. He and Allura made the robot from the same comet as Voltron. It should have been equipped with an automatic energy regenerating sequence in case of emergencies. He slammed his fist against the window in frustration, only to regret it instantly.

He shouldn't be using his energy like this.

“Day 12. Sincline is unable to absorb the quintessence in the field. The mechanism is...it is broken. I just need a small spark, just a little bit to get it working again. From there, it should charge on its own. Oxygen levels are decreasing. I am on the last of the nutrient supplies. If I get out of here, remind me to thank the doctor for having the foresight to pack food.”

If? No, when. When he gets out of here. He IS going to get out of here or he’ll die trying.

Hunger pains were the worst. He hated them, out of everything he had to do to survive, feeling your own stomach eat itself was a horrendous experience. Lotor has been through it before, but even then, he could eat dirt and survive with the consequential sickness that follows. Yet, there was nothing here. He did not have the ability to eat metal. His rations have run out. All he had left was half a bottle of water.

“Day...23. I am unsure if it is the quintessence or if I am losing my mind. I saw something out there. The Rift creatures have sensed me. I can only hope my sword is enough to defend myself.”

But he doubts it. Lotor curled over his stomach, gripping it as it rumbled in starvation. Again, he squeezes the handle. Sincline still did not respond.

He wasn’t desperate. Yet.

Not even with the gaping wound throbbing at his side. It gushed blood from the vicious bite that lovely Rift creature bestowed upon him, but the upside? Raw quintessence was healing it very slowly. It did nothing to rejuvenate his energy, though. Lotor was breathing heavily from the fight, limbs shaking from overexertion and...from fear.

That creature was tenacious in a way only savage animals crave when hungry. Not for blood, rather for their next meal ticket, and if Lotor wasn’t careful, he would find himself being eaten alive soon. He was weak, prime for picking if he couldn't figure out how to get Sincline back online. His suit no longer had any oxygen left to support him. He was stuck inside this mech. He would die in this mech.

The bracelet around his wrist radiated a faint red glow, the indicator telling him what he already knew. Lotor felt sick staying in the Rift for so long. No food, no air, and soon, no way of escape from those ravenous Rift creatures who would devour him piece by piece. He was lucky the last one was small, a scavenger no doubt, but how long until bigger ones find him?

Lotor bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes. He couldn’t die, not yet. Not like this. He worked too hard, came too far, for it all to end in naught. The Alteans, the Galra, every planet that suffered under Zarkon, they’re relying on him, on his return to restore balance to the universe. To return it to a time of peace, to soothe the scars left behind by his father’s tyrannical rule.

He faced that bastard, fought against all odds, survived this long to right the wrongs. His goals were so close, so damn close, yet like everything else in his life, they slipped right through his fingers and stabbed him in the back. Lotor had to keep going. He had to try something, anything, that would return him to the wounded universe he was born in.

A thousand scenarios were already flitting through his mind of all the work he left unfinished. The old Empire he never wanted, now fractured, free to conquer and kill without control. The Alteans he carefully preserved, soon to be completely eradicated now that they were exposed to an unsafe war zone. Everyone was going to suffer because of one little mistake. Because he trusted the wrong people. Lotor trusted Voltron when he shouldn’t have even bothered to accept their help in the first place.

Things were going to be worse now than ever before. And all of this? Fell on his shoulders.

His voice was rough, strained, exhausted beyond belief. “Day 48 in the Rift. No food. No water. What little oxygen Sincline has will only last me one or two more days.”

Lotor gritted his teeth in mounting frustration, his chest aching with sickening trepidation of what the future will hold, whether he was there or not.

“I don’t want to die.”

“Day...50.”

Lotor was tired. Restless. The cockpit of Sincline felt stifling and cramped. He had a pounding headache from lack of water. Lack of...everything, in fact. Sleep would not claim him whenever he closed his eyes. He was too weak to do more than sit up from his seat. And, dare he say, he even thought about eating his own clothes if it meant he would have something in his stomach.

No energy to move, but just enough for him to think about everything that led up to this moment. It was a dangerous path to start and even more dangerous to go down, yet he couldn’t stop himself. His mind would tumble down that pit, he knows this. Yet, after 10,000 years of suffering, of growth, of rebuilding himself over and over again, he knew that he was his own miserable company. Lotor had no one but himself.

It was better that way.

No mother. No father. No Ven’tar. No friends. All of them, gone by his doing. He hated thinking like this, dwelling on the past and what he could’ve done different. It led him to sympathize with himself. You tried your best, Lotor. But did he really try? You did everything you could, Lotor. But did he really do everything? You were a great leader, Lotor.

But...was he really?

His Empire ostracized him, shunned him for being part Altean. And those Alteans he saved? Could they really trust him for being part Galra? Or rather, for being Zarkon’s disgraceful spit of a son? Lotor tried so damn hard to prove to himself that he wasn’t like his evil father. He didn’t murder or kill without remorse. Yet, it didn't matter what he thought of himself.

There will always be people who can’t separate his bloodline and his race. There will always be people who will judge his actions based on his father’s bloody history. He couldn’t escape it. He could endure the abuse, he always has, but fuck, at what cost? How much longer until his will finally gives out?

Those he trusted left him behind. Maybe Allura was right. And maybe, this was a fitting death for him in the end.

“Was there really any hope for me?”

The Rift creatures completely swarmed Sincline, liquid sharp teeth gnawing and biting at the glass separating him from certain death. Lotor gulped and gripped the handles tighter, his knuckles straining against his gloves as he could feel the quintessence begin to overexert his body. The clock was ticking. Eyes were darting around for a way out of his inevitable doom, but he was trapped inside this machine with no where else to go.

“Come out! Come out!”

Lotor was losing his damn mind. Another shrieking growl from the creatures had him shaking his head in hopes to snap out of it. Did they just...talk? Or was he hearing things? One of the creatures raised an amorphous limb and slammed it on the hull, denting it and his chances of survival.

“You smell so good! Let us eat!”

His heart was pounding too fast in his chest, he thinks he might have cardiac arrest before the beasts broke through. The star crack in the shield began leaking in the monster’s formless body, squirming and wriggling closer to reach him. Lotor knew this was it. Now or never. He had to take that chance, regardless if it worked. He may not be able to escape his fate, but his final act of desperation was his only shot left.

“My creator…”

That voice...sounded different. Not like the Rift creatures. Lotor closed his eyes and concentrated on his flickering quintessence. The hunger pains were long gone. The wound at his side? Nothing but a faint scar remained. And his thoughts of anger, of betrayal? They were...soothed. His rage, quelled. His sadness, non-existent. He should've wondered where all his feelings went, why he was actually losing all sensation in his body.

“Sleep, now.”

Lotor helped make this mech. He knows the lions are sentient to an extent. If he can just get Sincline booted with a jolt of his quintessence, then maybe, just maybe, it can escape the Rift. With him alive or not. He can’t let the Rift creatures use Sincline, either for sustenance or for...a weapon. He can't let that happen. Sincline was built to help the universe, not destroy it. Never to destroy it.

Perhaps that was why Voltron defeated him. Sincline wasn’t a superweapon. That was never his goal for this machine.

“I will keep you safe, my creator.”

Lotor’s body chilled. Hi soul pulled from his mortal vessel. Sharp claws dug into his flesh with a sickening squelch, but he felt no pain, for his consciousness was already gone from this reality. And, when the quintessence was gone, the creatures realized their meal was stolen right out of their very hungry mouths.

“Day 51. Emperor Lotor is now under my protection.”

Sincline’s eyes began radiating with life, its sight glowing a threatening hue of purple in the infinite white of the Rift.

“Sir, are you sure it’s wise to leave an inter-dimensional communication stone in this reality?”

The Black Paladin averted his attention from the main screen, looking off to the side as Acxa’s face came into view. The lions were in the quintessence field and, as expected, the locator Kylan created with the blood sample you stored was working perfectly. However, now that she brought it up, he felt that explaining himself would build some confidence with his teammates.

“Yes. The technology here is not as advanced as ours. That may be because the planets have not yet unionized together under one banner,” he paused briefly, “It is...a shame. But we are helping them and, in turn, I have no doubt we will have stronger allies on our side after we find the Emperor. What Kylan showed me about the war here tells me that the Galra Empire needs their leader back first and foremost.”

“Yeah, uh, you aren’t just saying that because of the doctor, are you?” Ezor piped in with a teasing lilt in her voice, “This IS a different reality. We could be helping the wrong people here.”

Their leader smiled at the playful prodding, the ring on his finger suddenly filling his mind with trickles of joyful thoughts.

“Never was a fighter, that one,” he mused with a chuckle, “It is not a coincidence that we met again.”

Zethrid scoffed, “What? So, you think it’s fate that we just happened to pop out at the exact right spot with the exact right people to take us in?”

“Not fate. Perhaps just blind, dumb luck.”

Then, all at once, his Paladins muttered a single word.

“Soulmates.”

“A little unorthodox, but the existence of other realities has still not been fully researched yet,” he shrugged, accepting that the evidence before them was circumstantial at best, “We would have never known it was possible if it were not for Sven.”

An ominous silence fell upon the group, all of them thinking about the human who joined the Guns of Gamora. Who was, unfortunately, captured by Hira and her forces. His location remained unknown and no one knew what happened to Slav. They could only assume the Empress has them under her control now.

“Paladins, let us find this Emperor and bring him back,” Lotor ordered with brave confidence suited for the Black Paladin, “Time is of the essence here, but stay on your toes. The Rift creatures are relentless. If you spot one, do not engage alone. We are not in friendly territory.”

And that was one of their major concerns. While yes, they were searching for Sincline, he was wary of the mech’s self-sustaining capabilities. Moreso, the consciousness of the robot. It was not new information that the lions are sentient. Even he could correlate that Sincline would be just as alive as Voltron.

But now the question remained: would Sincline attack Voltron on sight?

It was the sound of chittering, followed by a meow, that alerted the group of the small, black dot in the distance.

“Good job, Kova,” Lotor tapped a few more keys on the screen, the locator pointing northeast from their current position, “Narti, everyone, proceed with caution.”

The closer the group drifted, the tighter they flew in formation, just in case Voltron was needed. It was a spectacle to behold. Another mech made from the same comet as the robotic lions they were piloting now. Another mech that can pierce the Rift between time and space itself. And its eyes were glowing purple.

“Sir...I have a bad feeling about this,” Zethrid warned, nearly growling by instinct.

“Stand down for now. He is aware of our presence,” Lotor commanded, “Ezor, send him a transmission that we are here to help. If he makes the first move, do not fight him. We do not know what he is capable of.”

Acxa’s thumb was on the trigger, ready to react at the first order to fire. Yet, it didn't come. She heard Lotor hum in thought as seconds ticked by, but nothing was happening. The Black Paladin had thousand of scenarios flashing through his mind. Maybe the Emperor was dead? Or was Sincline watching their every move? Perhaps the quintessence has filled his body? No, if that were the case, then the Rift creatures would have torn the ship apart to shreds by now.

Then...then the Emperor’s quintessence was no longer in his body. That leaves only two options: he is dead or Sincline has captured his soul.

Loud warning signals began flashing across each of the Paladin’s screen, setting all of them on high alert. Even Kova’s hackles were raised, teeth bared as he hissed at the unknown foes in the distance. A dark, inky hoard of Rift creatures were dashing straight at them, sensing their quintessence from miles away. Immediately, Lotor knew they could not handle them all, not even if they formed Voltron.

“Orders, sir!” Zethrid repeated, now understanding that the plans have changed with the new enemies on the horizon.

“It’d be a good idea to run, don’t ya think?” Ezor offered her opinion, “Preferably before they reach us.”

“Zethrid, Ezor, grab Sincline. Acxa and Narti, with me. If those creatures get close, we must protect the Emperor,” Lotor maneuvered his lion ahead of Sincline as Red and Green flanked the rear, “We are getting out of here now!”

Both the Blue and the Yellow lion each latched themselves under Sincline’s arms, making sure to keep their jets ready if the mech decided to attack. No such thing happened, thankfully, and the group quickly followed Lotor as he guided them down the path. The gate was too far and they could not risk a chance of having the Rift creatures find out about it. Or worse, potentially breaking through and swarming the unprepared reality.

The Black Paladin focused his energy through his body, mixing it with the lion’s, then took a deep breath. She responded to his call. She always did. His hands glowed that ethereal Altean magic, transferring his power to her vessel. She opened her mouth and fired a bright violet beam straight ahead, the force creating a swirling wormhole right before the Paladin’s very eyes.

“Ezor and Zethrid, when you go through, head for the gate. We will be close behind you.”

Deft fingers knocked the door lightly, catching the attention of you and the bedridden patient. The medical wing on Kylan’s ship was still useful for helping those relocated from the second colony and, inwardly, you were glad he decided to keep a close eye on them. Except now, without those pods, manual practices must take place. You were a doctor, so of course you kept to your role.

You flicked your finger across the holographic screen projecting from the device on your wrist, occasionally nodding while skimming over the report. “Your quintessence levels have significantly gone down back to normal. Good, very good. Still, I’d like you to get a few more days of rest while your body stabilizes,” you explained while the screen minimized out of sight for now.

“Thank you, doctor.” She was an old patient, very sensitive to quintessence and, therefore, the treatment as well, “Would you kindly tell Lotor I give my thanks, too?”

Your eyes hardened for a few seconds before you gave a firm nod. Everyone from the colonies knew about Lotor’s disappearance, but this patient? She had a failing memory. It felt...wrong to tell her the bad news over and over again, especially if she were to forget it within the next day. That was the quintessence to blame, sadly. Regardless, her health was the first priority here.

This is what you learned about the colony, what Kylan explained was happening there. These generations of Alteans have evolved to the point where their bodies produce too much quintessence. Just as there were those who stayed underground for so long that their skin could not be exposed to the sun without the light burning them.

Evolution did its job on their species.

But this wasn't just any quintessence. This was pure quintessence, the deadliest form of them all. Letting it fester within their bodies would kill them. You read the reports. You know all the research that Lotor and his crew discovered. And, strangely enough, the process to remove quintessence was quite similar to a procedure you remember from Earth.

Lotor wasn’t draining Alteans. He was using dialysis to keep them alive. Their body was just no longer able to naturally process the slow-build up of quintessence over time. There were still many questions left unanswered, though. Why did Alteans evolve out this ability? What is the purpose of their bodies harnessing so much quintessence in the first place? And, more importantly, did this issue solely reside in their species and only their species?

You had no time to figure it out. Not when the fractured Empire was at your heels.

“I will let him know. Now, excuse me,” you gave the old lady’s hand a gentle squeeze before heading out the door, right where Kylan was waiting.

Clearly, he was out of breath from rushing. That told you he had something of utmost importance to share with you. It didn’t take a single word from him for you to hear the message loud and clear. You read it on his face. The way hope filled his eyes, the small smile, his relaxed albeit disheveled posture. The nod of confirmation when your own questioning gaze widened in disbelief.

“They’ve returned with Sincline.”

You did not even respond back as the two of you quickly jogged to the ship’s hangar. They succeeded. Against all odds, the Paladins actually succeeded. When the doors slide open, there, lying flat on the steel floor, was Sincline in all its glory. Surrounding the mech were the lions and their respective Paladins. You halted besides the group, filled with both stunned silence and doubtful hope.

Yes, that was the mech.

But why wasn't the Emperor coming out of…

“Doctor. Kylan.” The Black Paladin called for your attention, taking it away from the threatening glowing eyes of Sincline, “There has been...a complication.”

“Tell me.”

“Sincline is operational. However,” Lotor folded his arms across his chest and sighed heavily, “It is hostile.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Hostile? What do you mean hostile?”

“What he means is,” Ezor rubbed her neck a bit nervously, “Sincline has chosen to close itself off. No one can get him out of there. The robot is refusing to open.”

“It is a safety precaution. I have seen this before,” Lotor explained as clearly as he could. “The same way only the lions get to choose their Paladins. Sincline chooses who will be worthy to pilot it.”

Now, it made sense. Sincline was denying entry to anyone who got close to it. No one here was worthy in its eyes. Not you, not Kylan, and not even this alternate reality version of Lotor. You needed to know whether the Emperor was alive or not. For the Empire, yes, but with that sickening clench gripping your chest, you needed to know...for yourself, too.

“Emperor Lotor...he is trapped in there,” the Black Paladin bowed his head to the floor, “I can not force Sincline to accept me. I am not its pilot. There is nothing else I can do to help.”

“Sincline is sentient,” you pointed out, “If that’s so...it is watching us. It can hear us.”

Kylan jutted his chin up a bit at your claim, “Yes. If Sincline was made from the same material as Voltron, then it is entirely possible to communicate with it.”

“Isn’t it obvious what needs to be done?”

Now, all pairs of eyes looked at you in question, waiting for your answer. You did this before and it worked. It was time to test that theory again, especially for Emperor Lotor’s sake. For the Empire’s sake. For the universe’s sake. The lions were living beings. There was no reason to believe Sincline would be any different.

“We have to convince it.” Unconsciously, your hand came up to rub at your shoulder, phantom pains reminding you of that fateful day you were shot, “We have to convince Sincline that we are here to help Lotor.”

“Even if Sincline allows it, we do not know what sort of risks lie with this new type of mech,” Kylan countered while holding his chin in thought, “It could be a trap. Animals have been known to lead prey, even those with the most innocent intentions, to their doom.”

“But what if it was someone Lotor recognizes? You worked alongside with him while building the colonies. He trusts you. He knows you. Perhaps the familiarity will lead Sincline to trust you, too.”

Silence. The group all turned to gaze up at the still mech, feeling its eyes warily watch them. Judge them. Listen to them. Sincline was thinking, planning. Learning. It could peer into each and every one of those mortal’s souls. Their past, their present, and even their future. Two of them were truly Lotor’s allies, but only one of them was vastly more important than the other.

“If what you say is true, and we go through with this, you realize what must be done, doctor,” Kylan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I can not take that risk considering my responsibility with the colony, with Lotor’s work.”

It was like Kylan said long ago. He would help you find the Emperor, but his aid ended when the potential danger outweighed the cost of him staying alive.

“...I know,” came your answer, unwavering in the face of uncertain grounds, “I will do it, Kylan.”

You trusted Lotor. He had to be in there. You would go into the mind of Sincline, where no soul has ever delved into before, where the unknown most certainly tipped between life and death, where your Emperor laid waiting. Just like Lotor, you had to plan this carefully. Cautiously. For even you knew that it only took one mistake to ruin everything you worked so hard to achieve.

Up to this point, you had nothing to lose. If you died, then your problems would be done and over with. Now, though. Now, you survived this long. You were this close to saving Lotor. Just one more step, you told yourself. The work of a doctor is never done. There will always be lives to rescue, so why was this any different? Why was his any different?

Because you believed in him. You saw first hand what he is capable of. His story is not over. He was the key to saving the universe. Not Voltron. Not through brute force, but the raw determination to build a better future, regardless of what happened in the past. Lotor’s will to bring peace to the galaxy was real.

And you knew as any other did that, although hope is a strong motivator, it takes action to truly accomplish impossible goals.

You knew what had to be done and you would do it for the future the both of you believed in.

#lotor x reader #spacestories #schrodingers lotor

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margridarnauds · 5 years ago

Note

margrid/orleans for the otp thing

I might have cried while typing this up.

who hogs the duvet

Both of them TRY; it’s an ongoing Thing with them, though Margrid’s ultimately more successful. Girl’s a gremlin. Orlèans is mildly impressed (and he has someone get another one because, really, it isn’t like he can’t afford multiple. It’s just the PRINCIPLE.)

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Both of them. Keeping up with one another is a BIG thing in their relationship, both in terms of the personal and the business aspect of it. That started before they started sleeping together and persisted afterwards, with it changing along with their relationship. One of them might send a more businesslike text that asks the other how things are coming along and then immediately follow it up with something more personal. One of the first signs to Margrid that she might have been catching some feelings for the boss was actually when she started feeling Piney Lurching Things whenever she saw that he’d texted her.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Despite (or perhaps because of) Orléans being the one who can easily afford gifts, Margrid is actually the most creative of the two.

who gets up first in the morning

They’re both relatively early risers. Unless they’re too tired from smashing the night before.

That being said, Orlèans tends to wake up slightly earlier and slightly happier. Margrid might wake up for job purposes, but that doesn’t mean she’s happy about it. Sleeping in is a luxury that she hasn’t really HAD all that much of. (Though Orlèans also takes longer to actually go through his morning routine.)

who suggests new things in bed

BOTH OF THEM. Orléans technically has more experience and a ton of various and assorted techniques, toys, etc. that he’s picked up over the years, but Margrid’s more CREATIVE and more willing to try out different things.

who cries at movies

Both of them are pretty stoic for the most part, though Margrid tends to cry when it comes to parental deaths. (Orléans was SHOCKED to realize that she still cries over Bambi, even though she carefully tries to deny it. At first, he thought he was imagining it, but then as it went on further he realized that, no, it was 100% genuine and he had to spend time comforting her. And We Do Not Discuss Land Before Time)

who gives unprompted massages

Orléans, as part of his devious “see how often I can touch Margrid” scheme. In the AU that you know about, it comes in very handy, because of the circumstances that would make the occasional back rub very, very useful. It’s part of how he gets back into Margrid’s good graces after The Thing.

Obviously, if frick fracks ensue from said massages, that’s a bonus.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

As mentioned before, Orléans tends to fuss MORE over, say, a cold, while Margrid’s fundamentally pragmatic. He gets his doctors on and he periodically checks on her, taking every measure to make sure that she doesn’t die or recontaminate herself. If Orléans is sick for more than a few days, though, it switches around, with Margrid sticking around to keep him company, keep him updated on things, etc. while trying desperately not to freak out because, as much as she pretends otherwise, she really, really isn’t prepared to lose him yet and the sight of Orléans weak and fevered in his bed, only able to weakly flirt with her, his normally very strong, deep voice hoarse from coughing, is jarring. Just give it a few more years, Marg. Just give it a few more years.

who gets jealous easiest

As I’ve mentioned before, neither one of them’s really THAT prone to jealousy, though I do think that Margrid TENDS to edge out Orléans ever so slightly if only because there are plenty of women around him that are younger, beautiful, and have the social clout and position that she can never have (even though in terms of BLOODLINE, she outdoes them all given that she’s. Actually descended from royalty.) And, given her own feelings re: what happened to her mother, I think that that has to be at the back of her mind, that her position’s really precarious, even though she does know going in that the man’s a THOT and it isn’t really something that she can ask him to change. Orléans is a solid bet because, between Grace Dalrymple Elliot and Madame de Genlis, he does seem to have had a pattern of staying on close terms with his exes, but still. That shit stings. She can survive just about anything, but I think it’s more her own fear of being tossed away that comes into play.

That being said, as mentioned before, I really think that overall, the two of them have enough history together that they really…ARE linked no matter what. Like, there isn’t anyone alive who can really touch the history these two have with one another by the end of everything.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

As has been established, Margrid owns multiple Veggie Tales albums. Meanwhile, Orléans seems to be focused more or less on 80s-esque music. Most of the time, the ~9 year age gap between them isn’t really THAT obvious, especially given that they’re both old enough that it really doesn’t matter all that much in terms of overall maturity, but when it comes to music tastes, it suddenly REALLY comes out.

who collects something unusual

Need I remind you about Louis-Philippe Joseph “Art Hoe” D’Orléans? Collector of all things English? Louis-Philippe Joseph “AH, I SEE THAT YOU HAVE SEVERAL HOURS TO SPEND GOING THROUGH MY EXTENSIVE COLLECTION, COME WITH ME” D’Orléans?

who takes the longest to get ready

Orléans. 18th century aristocrat. Need I say more?

who is the most tidy and organised

Both of them are actually pretty tidy, for the most part. When it comes down to it, I GUESS that Orléans is the most organized, if only because he has more to organize in the first place.

who gets most excited about the holidays

My big brain is saying that Orléans is a Very Serious Villain who does Villainy Things™ and that I should therefore give him some level of respect. My crack brain, however, is saying that he totally gets matching Christmas sweaters for the two of them. It’s ridiculous. He sends a Christmas card to Louis and Antoinette, “accidentally” addressing Fersen instead of Louis. It’s the pettiest fucking Christmas card to ever exist. He signs it with a little smile emoticon.

“Happy Holidays, from my family to yours :) “

Margrid has never really been able to celebrate the holidays in any meaningful way, and even though she doesn’t SHOW it, she’s thrilled.

who is the big spoon/little spoon

On one hand, I’m a sucker for Orléans being the big spoon and Margrid being the little spoon, with her unconsciously finding herself cuddling closer to him. Later, she wakes up to find his arm still slung over her, possibly pressing a kiss to his wrist while she thinks he’s not looking. Maybe at some point, he presses an unusually chaste kiss to her bare shoulder.

On the other hand, Big spoon Margrid who slips into bed next to him, her whole body curling around his because of the height difference. Maybe she does that Thing where she drapes a leg around his. Maybe she sometimes nuzzles into the nape of his neck when she thinks he’s not looking.

Though, I personally ALSO like them generally falling asleep facing one another so that they can both periodically wake up and go through all the Emotions of seeing the other one there, vulnerable, and go “Oh my God, that happened, oh my God.” Both of them thinking about it after the fact, when everything’s gone to Hell, Orléans between taking the Dauphin away and the Trial, Margrid as he’s being dragged away, knowing that he HAD to go down because otherwise he’d have dragged her down but wondering what the Hell happened to them.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Hm, between Monsieur le Duc “I can’t stand it if I don’t win” d’Orléans and:

I think it’s a draw. Ironically.

who starts the most arguments

[tws: references to child endangerment, abuse]

It’s hard to say who STARTS the most because, while Margrid is the most obviously in your face about it, he tends to be the smoldering resentment sort, so it tends to build up, though they really rarely fight. The thing that makes the Incident With The Dauphin, as much as I don’t particularly LIKE to deal with it for obvious reasons, so terrible is that it’s such a huge BREAK for them. She goes to him and tries to get him to stand down, and she’s pretty bold about being willing to get in his face, which indicates that she has no personal fear of being willing to draw that line with him and say “You’re fucking up,” but he doesn’t listen. But it’s pretty obvious, at least to me, that at some point, he MIGHT have listened, or at least that Margrid thought she had a decent chance that he would.

I don’t like the scene, I don’t particularly like TALKING about the scene because it’s probably hands down one of the single most disturbing scenes in the show and it’s not something that I particularly want to trivialize (and I’m obviously going to lean towards the Hungarian anyway, because a part of me has a really, really hard time believing that Orléans would throw Margrid off to the side, which I know is a very funny line to draw given everything ELSE about that scene and the various and assorted things that Orléans does in-canon that I accept with no problems, but there it is), but...it’s a major turning point in their relationship and it’s also really telling about what their relationship’s NORMALLY like, before it took that nosedive.

who suggests that they buy a pet

A draw. Orléans has hunting animals and race horses, and I could totally see him trying to get Margrid into having a lap dog or something similar. On the other hand, Margrid’s statistically more likely to see some random dog/cat on the streets with sad eyes, go “Fuck off,” and then when it tries to follow her home is just like “Okay, I guess you’re coming too.”

Can you imagine her just BURYING her face in its fur when it’s all over? Because it doesn’t understand why it’s not seeing Papa anymore, since, despite all of his many, many flaws, Orléans did spoil the damn thing. And it tries to comfort her by licking her face, which just makes her cry harder because, even though it IS her animal, it’s still so closely intertwined with her history with Orléans that it’s a reminder and the whole thing’s just so raw still and the dog’s the last thing that she really has in her life. Her sister’s dead, Orléans’ dead, Fersen is off God knows where because he only ever REALLY cared about Antoinette even though he felt compassion for her. She still has her people in the crowd, but she’s seen that same crowd call for blood so many times that she can never look at them the same way again.

what couple traditions they have

Reading the papers as soon as they’re off the press together, sitting together closely enough that their knees are brushing. Probably playing footsie the whole damn time.

Margrid and he also tend to work on correspondence together, particularly when they’re appropriately relaxed. From smashing. She can often be found propped on top of his back, with the two of them going back and forth on what he’s going to put in his latest letter.

what tv shows they watch together

Game of Thrones, How to Get Away with Murder, HBO’S Rome, Revenge, Scandal, House of Cards…you know. Romantic series like that.

what other couple they hang out with

NOT Antoinette/Fersen. Instead, they actually have grudgingly become bros with Peyronan, sharing some of the same issues re: class, political differences, etc. Though Lazare is physically incapable of addressing Orléans as anything less than “Your Highness.”

how they spend time together as a couple

Plotting the downfall of the monarchy, walking Palais Royal together (sometimes catching a street performance if they’re lucky), trying to out-play each other at chess, going to air balloon demonstrations (which they ALSO share in common with another interclass relationship from this time, causing some amount of awkwardness whenever they meet up, since Peyrol is a HUGE proponent of hot air balloons for military purposes) taking part in riots against the crown. You know, all the usual couply things you’d expect.

who made the first move

As has been discussed last time, Orléans, the thot. One of the interesting things that I’ve actually taken away from rereading bits of Les Liaisons Dangereuse is that kissing on the hand was a particularly intimate gesture. Not quite on the same level as kissing on the mouth, obviously, but definitely something that denoted a certain level of closeness and familiarity above simply taking a hand, something that bordered on reverence. (I’m not saying that the writers INTENDED for that meaning to him trying to kiss her hand, but I’m taking it for what it’s worth.) But, when Margrid turned him down, he let it rest until she took things to the next level. And the level after that. And the level after THAT.

who brings flowers home

Neither one tbh.

who is the best cook

Margrid, though she’s really more a “throw something in the microwave” type for the most part. It’s still impressive compared to SOMEONE who leaves that kind of thing to servants.

#otp: our shared dream #i can't believe that these fucks have me EMO #lochley #marie antoinette das musical

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ikesenhell · 6 years ago

Text

Scanned

Bloodline, Chapter 8. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTE: AHHH I am sorry this took so long!!!!

Ieyasu didn’t trust himself to hope. It was a dangerous thing, after all. Too much of it would almost certainly bring his mood crashing down in the face of the inevitable. Too little of it meant not enough action in the first place. Instead, he steeled himself to cold calculation and focus.

In spite of all that, he also knew what his stupid jackrabbit heart was doing. Those little words: TOKUGAWA IN CUSTODY, GOOD HEALTH meant absolutely nothing… except to his stupid, desperate heart.

“Do you think they mean…?” She began.

“I don’t know.” He snapped back harder than he meant. She fell silent instantly. Remorseful, he softened his tone. “Maybe. But my dad is also missing. I don’t hold out a ton of hope that it’s specifically her.”

But he did. Oh, he hoped so much it hurt. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his father (and he did, what little memory he still had of the man), but seeing her pinned like that in the tape made him want it to be her. And then there was his uncle to consider--the real one. Where was he?

But he kept these questions to himself and silently thanked the universe that she was so understanding. She didn’t press him with hopeful what-ifs. They arrived back at his apartment in D.C., and she returned to the same grindstone he applied himself so intensely to. Some nights he walked by the office and saw her bent over the keyboard, blinking wearily at notes she’d scrawled on Post-Its and scouring databases.

“You should sleep,” he announced one night, scaring her without meaning to. She leaped half from her chair and stared owlishly at him. “Sorry. But you should.”

“I’m alright.”

He stared down his nose as her yawn betrayed her. “No, you’re not. Go to sleep.”

“I--” She hesitated a moment. “I can’t.”

Now that was different. He paused, running his fingers in a staccato rhythm against the doorframe. “What’s up?”

A beat. Her eyes roved over the desk for an out, anything to avoid the question, anything at all--but he saw it there anyway. A quiet unease she so carefully stowed away simmered beneath her skin.

“I just don’t sleep well lately,” she shrugged. “That’s all.”

“Nightmares?”

A pause. “Yeah.”

And all this on his behalf, no doubt. He ground his teeth together and wondered if she might sleep better if he’d never come into her life at all. “I mean, I’m assuming you’ve tried the usual stuff.”

“Mmm. Google has been exhausted, Doctor Tokugawa.”

He flushed despite himself. “Listen here, you.”

“I’m listening.”

No cute follow up quip hopped into his mouth, so he tried to cover for it. “I mean, if you--if you really can’t sleep, I can’t have you just walking around tired. It’s not good for the mission and all that.”

She set her glasses down on the glass top desk and stared at him, the ghost of a smile flirting on her lips. He wondered if his mouth worked the same way over hers. “Ahuh.”

“Yeah.”

“And what are you suggesting?”

“I’m--” What was he getting at? Ieyasu pushed ahead. “If you really really can’t sleep, then you could join me in bed.”

Both of her brows cocked. HIs face felt like it might melt off.

“Anyway! Good night.” He turned on his heel to flee.

“Wait, you can’t just invite me to bed and then run--”

“You didn’t answer fast enough.”

“You ass!”

Her hand caught him by the elbow, so he slowed enough to let her brush her hip alongside his. Something about her laundry smelled like lavender.

“Fine,” he grumbled, as if this had been her idea and not his. “But if you kick or something, I will have to boot you back to the guest room.”

“Boot me? Do you promise?”

Was that an innuendo? His brain struggled to work through the possibilities, but she just laughed and caught his hands in hers. Damnit. Nothing lit up the apartment like her smile. He wondered if she even knew the effect she had. Giving in, he scooped her up in his arms as she squealed with delight.

“Come on. Get in here before I change my mind.”

---

What was a one night thing turned into a several night thing--then a prolonged thing. He woke earlier than she did (especially considering the long hours she pulled in the evening), so he spent his mornings lying alongside her and listening to the sweet rise and fall of her breath. Sometimes he timed it. Her pulse was always normal. It soothed him.

Still he hadn’t… well, he hadn’t undressed her. Not that he didn’t think about it. Oh, no. He thought about it more than he liked. Every time she slipped into bed, clad only in some thin shorts and one of his shirts, he had to restrain himself. What was it about seeing her in his clothes? Ieyasu didn’t consider himself possessive, but something about it felt like a sign of ownership, and he liked it more than he cared to admit to himself.

He was lying beside her, coiling his fingers through her hair, when his cell phone rang. Ieyasu considered ignoring it. In the end, he checked the number and groaned, answering. “Yes?”

“Morning.” Why did Mitsuhide always manage to sound breathy and snakelike? Was he trying to sound like a sex call operator? “I’ve got a lead for you.”

“What’s that?” He extricated himself from bed with no small degree of disappointment.

“A little location in the Appalachians. Looks like they’re sending some of their disguised packages there. After we disrupted their operation in Norfolk they switched up the patterns. Sadly for them, someone in FedEx owed me a favor.”

Ieyasu didn’t ask. Ever since learning once why someone in the Pentagon owed Mitsuhide a favor, he’d decided it was better never to find out again. “Great. Send me that address.”

---

He liked driving on country roads. They swirled up the mountainsides, heading ever-upward into the Shenandoah. Down below them were long, beautiful stretches of green grass, quaint towns clustered together in the shadow of the peaks. The firebrand trees rustled in the chilly wind.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Ieyasu asked her.

She shot him a smile. Her car window was cracked, hair floating on the breeze. “Yeah.”

What could he say to that? There was no way he could admit how terrified he was for her, so he just held his tongue. He hadn’t even taken her on a proper date yet, and here she was, sticking out her neck for the millionth time.

That thought lodged suddenly back in his head: no, he hadn’t taken her on a proper date yet, had he? What kind of a--boyfriend? Suitor? Hell if he knew--was he? That was just shameful. He chewed on his lip in sullen silence.

“Do you like pancakes?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

“And blackberries,” he pressed. “What about those?”

“Love them. Why?”

It didn’t feel right to do this while driving. Ieyasu pulled off into a scenic overlook shoulder, the countryside below them laid out like a miniature train set. “Come here. Want to take a picture?”

That got her smiling. She bounded out of the car after him, perching herself on the stone wall and patting beside her. “Yeah, let me get out my phone.”

Ieyasu didn’t like ‘selfies’. Honestly, they annoyed him. But he leaned in his head beside her anyways, their hair tangling together in the frame, and she snapped the shot. It didn’t do her justice. She was more radiant in real life.

“This is great,” she chirruped, looking at it. “I love it.”

He coughed. “I’m glad. Would you love going on a breakfast date with me tomorrow?”

Her stunned blink just made him feel worse. He nearly snipped ‘what, does my asking you out shock you so much?’, but then her smile spread so bright that he swore it was the sun.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah. Yeah yeah. I’d love that.”

“Well, good. Um, there’s a breakfast place up in the national park. They have pancakes with blackberry syrup. I went years ago, and I thought it was decent, so…”

Her giggle let him know that she recognized ‘decent’ as his euphemism for ‘good’. “Sounds great.”

---

The town Mitsuhide directed them to certainly wasn’t large, but there were enough trees to make any kind of investigation difficult. Besides, Ieyasu knew how these things went. Any new person in a tiny place immediately grabbed attention. In the interest in avoiding detection, he just stopped at the McDonalds and headed back out of town, stopping a little ways out and renting a cabin.

“We’re going to have to walk over there,” he instructed her, zipping up his hoodie. “Locals just love to take note of weird cars, especially nice ones.”

“Okay.” She buttoned up her flannel. “If anyone asks, I’ve got a good cover story.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re looking for land to build a house. You work in tech support and I remote in to work. Maybe we’ve got a big family or something.”

“That’s good.”

It was a decent trek, but she kept up pretty well. He did his best to not check the phone too many times. Besides; service was spotty. They were nearly in the National Radio Quiet Zone, a stretch of land where almost all signals were limited or nonexistent, so if anything went wrong…

Well, he reassured himself that nothing would.

At long last, they rounded the corner and found it. Just behind a meagre strip mall was a lumber warehouse, sawn beams lying out in neat stacks. Ieyasu double checked the address.

“Should be it.”

“Great.”

As quietly as he could, he snapped photo after photo of the location. They circled it around several times. It didn’t seem like anyone was there, despite it being work hours.

“Hey.” She chuckled and prodded at the end of a plank. “They’re buying this.”

“What?”

“They’re buying these. They’re getting them cut at Lowes or something and shipping them here.” With an amused chuckle, she poked a barcode on the end. “So we shouldn’t expect to see anyone out here sawing.”

“You’d think the residents would wonder at the lack of people working for this company.”

“Maybe they do. It isn’t like we’ve asked.”

That was a fair point. Ieyasu snapped a picture of the barcode for good measure. “Alright. Now here is the million dollar question. How do we get inside?”

They both fell silent. It was reasonable to assume that entry wouldn’t be nearly as easy as the last location. If their quarry really were tipped off about the increased Federal interest in them, then no doubt they’d upped security. That, and he couldn’t imagine anywhere leading into the lumber warehouse wouldn’t be watched.

But she wasn’t paying attention to the building. Instead, her eyes were trained squarely on a meandering FedEx truck.

“Hey,” she muttered. “I’ve got an idea.”

#Bloodlines #Bloodline #Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen Ieyasu #Ieyasu Tokugawa #Ikesen Mitsuhide #Mitsuhide Akechi #ikesen spy AU #Ikesen Modern Au #Scanned #my writing #fluff

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ofwillowsandgreenfieldshasmoved · 6 years ago

Text

Drabbles: Saving an Innocent

OTP: Fate Brought Us Together ; So Baby Just Enjoy The Ride

@bstnbred

Tears were shed, but it wasn’t only the surrounding loved ones of the small child that were crying. Lydia turned her silvery blue gaze to the window, watching as raindrops hit the window of the hospital room; dark clouds loomed overhead, the crack of thunder and lightning breaking through the darkness. The Heavens were sad and angry, for the precious little life snuffed out because of unnecessary negligence. But now wasn’t the time to blame and cast guilt. Now was a time for mourning and grieving.

From outside the door, the elderly witch can hear the voices of her youngest granddaughter and the son of her late son-in-law conversing, their tones filled with heavy sadness but also concern. “She’s not picking up…” Katrina sobbed. “I don’t know where she could have gone. What do we go, Austin?” The young man couldn’t answer, for he didn’t know as well. Lydia frowned deeply, eyes falling back onto the lifeless little girl. Her great-granddaughter, Ellie, was still hooked to the hospital machines, the doctors leaving them to have some time with her before they would take her away down to the morgue. Withered and wrinkled fingers gently stroke the little one’s hair, clumps of blood still tangled in her beautiful locks. Where indeed had her granddaughter, Ellie’s mother, run off to? Lydia understood the devastating grief she was suffering - she truly understood, having lost a child of her own once, Jade and Katrina’s aunt, when she was only a child. But to have run away at a time like this…Jade’s place should have been here, SHE should have been sitting at Ellie’s bedside, saying a final goodbye.

Lydia feared the worst. The loss of a child…it was unimaginable and traumatic, it was the ultimate suffering. And for their family in particular, that did not bode well for her granddaughter…Not when within every witch of their bloodline dwelled a terrible and powerful curse, one that fed one the misery and pain its host endured. If the elder woman had to guess, it was perhaps too late for her granddaughter - but that was a thought she didnot want to believe.

“Who’s there?”

No response. Perhaps her aged mind was playing tricks on her, but she could have swore she sensed the presence of another, one that was unfamiliar to the witch. She was about to wave it off as nothing, but the aura grew stronger all of a sudden - it was thick with the scent of death. And then, seconds later, a man suddenly stood within the room with her and the lifeless child, as though he appeared out of thin air. Lydia stared stunned at the stranger, yet she was not alarmed. Despite the aura of death he carried and his physically intimidating appearance, she did not sense any ill intention from this man. He came in peace and, after a brief exchange of words, Lydia discovered the reason he was here.

“Ah, yes…I see,” the elderly witch replied, frowning again, her voice softening. “I know of your kind. You came for my husband long ago.” A reaper, collector souls, guiding them into the afterlife. She should have known this was coming. The older woman stood from the chair and moved towards the door. “I’ll leave you alone to your work,” she told him, wiping a tear from her eye. “I don’t wish to see this…Not again.” Losing her beloved George was difficult enough, she just didn’t have the heart to watch the last remaining piece of her precious great-grandchild be taken from them - knowing she was gone was painful enough.

Lydia stepped out of the room to find her granddaughter and her brother still trying to get in contact with Jade. They asked her what they should do now, but Lydia didn’t answer, for she herself didn’t know. It was not very long after that that the three of them were alerted by the sound of muffled cries, a tiny voice calling desperately and frighteningly out, “Mommy? Mommy! Mommy, where are you?!” The two witches and the human exchanged glances full of shock and confusion - that voice…It was coming from Ellie’s room! And it was so…familiar! No, it couldn’t be…

The door was thrown open as the three of them rushed into the room only to see that, indeed, the little girl was awake - ALIVE - and crying out for her mother. And not only was she alive, but the wounds and injuries inflicted upon her were completely healed, gone as if she had never been hurt at all. It was…it was unbelievable! Unfathomable, it was…a MIRACLE! “How-How is this possible?” Katrina gasped, after she and Austin took turns hugging their niece and soothing her frightening whispers. No one, not even the doctors that came to re-examine Ellie, could answer that question.

But Lydia could.

“Thank you,” she said to the Reaper, tears of happiness springing from her eyes and she smiled with deep gratefulness. “Thank you so much.” She didn’t quite understand why he had saved the little girl, considering what she knew about his kind, but she would not question nor argue the deed. He had restored her life and brought her back to them - that was all that mattered. Lydia felt more than grateful to him and felt as if she needed to do something in return for his selfless act. The only thing she could think of what to bestow upon him a charm that she carried herself, the small pendent a gift to her from the very little girl he saved. The witch had no issue gifting it to the Reaper, finding it even fitting as though it were a gift from Ellie herself, an offering of thanks for what he did. “Take it,” Lydia told him, smiling warmly. “To remember her. I believe she would want that.” Lydia turned to gaze upon the child, now sitting upright and calmly in the hospital bed, surrounded by her family - except for the one that loved her the most. Ellie met their gaze, her hazel blue eyes staring straight at the Reaper, whom no one else but she and her great-grandmother could see. Ellie waved slightly, her aunt and uncle under the impression that she was gesturing to Lydia when she was really waving at the Reaper. It seemed, perhaps, that while she did not know exactly what had happened, Ellie too could sense what Lydia did. The Reaper saved her life.

If only Jade could be here to see that too.

Lydia would come to discover that her worst fears had come true. Ellie’s death had sent her granddaughter over the edge, the young witch falling prey to the evil that dwelled inside. She became the Darkcaster. It was best then, Lydia decided, to keep the miracle from her granddaughter. Katrina and Austin protested but Lydia would not change her mind, for she knew how dangerous and unpredictable the curse really was.

No, for Ellie’s own sake, Lydia hid her away, to protect her from that evil. And perhaps in turn, spare the Reaper from the wrath of a heart broken mother should the darkness ever find out.

#writings of the muse (drabbles)#otp: fate brought us together ; so baby just enjoy the ride (jade x logan)#in my daughter's eyes (ellie - jade's daughter)#welcome to the floral queue (queue tag)

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burndownthehousetonight · 8 years ago

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((Holy hell, a lot happens here :000 Like I know the last 9 chapters were a bit slow, relatively speaking, but like everything that didn’t happen in those happens here. Me and @last-of-my-bloodline have a ton of answers for y’all))

Rouge's interrogation was held immediately, and went remarkably smoothly.

"He hasn't been doing this for himself," Rouge started to say. Shadow, Light and Manic were the only three in the interrogation room. "He's been forced into working for Finitevus again, and he's trying to fight back."

"So he's trying to go super?!" Manic yelled. He hadn't gotten enough sleep for days, and it showed on his face.

"Not sure, sweetie." Rouge admitted. "He might also be trying to keep chaos gemstones away from Finitevus. He said he's building some kind of a... super weapon."

“What could you tell us about this Finitevus? I’ve not heard that name before,“ Light had asked her n’ was a bit concerned with the details that the stranger is forcing the one they are looking for to work for them.

“This super weapon is also a concern…What would the guy want to build n’ for what reason?” Shadow had spoken up unsure as he looked thoughtful.

"He's mad," Rouge started bluntly. "Scourge is insane too, but he's impulsive. Finitevus is calculating. He builds torture machines and performs hideous experiments on others...!" Rouge shivered and clutched to her arms. "Whatever Scourge is planning, it can't be as bad as his plans. He's probably going to try and kill Scourge with it if it's completed."

"And what about Scourge?" Manic yelled. "You've been helping him, is he still alive?!"

"Hopefully," Rouge said, "but the doctor's been trying to kill him. He has this whole band of mooks trying to kill him no matter what. One of his men got arrested in Spagonia after we got an emerald from there. He kept mentioning working for the 'tentails,' does that name mean anything to you?"

Both Shadow n’ Light tensed slightly. “Yes, we know the Tentails… a band of ten tailed foxes that seem to still be up to no good,” Shadow said. “It would seem they have gone looking for someone to take our king out n’ worse maybe more than just him.”

Light seemed a little uncomfortable. “We really have issues if that is true, this weapon should be put down before it can be used.” he shivered a bit.

"Duh!" Manic shouted. He was far too scared and pissed off to care about his manners. "Where's he going, where can we find him?!"

"If I knew that, G.U.N. would have handled Finitevus by now, hon." Rouge said simply. "But he's been stashing Chaos gemstones. If we're going to find him, we're going to need to find these sources of energy."

They started their search immediately. A week of grueling, unending work began for every government official the royal family had power over. Everything from solid leads to off-handed rumors were investigated in excruciating detail, int he hopes they could find something, anything to help. Their searched all ended in vain with a breaking news story, delivered by a particularly somber Altitude.

"A chaos energy burst has leveled the Pedy Memorial Rehabilitation Clinic on the outskirts of Priscilla. Several dozen patients and members of the hospital staff are presumed dead."

Shadow looked to Light n’ Manic when he heard her speak up, a bit uncomfortable. “You would think someone is out to make a fool out of us…” he said a bit unsure of what to say to this. “Was this a possible accident or a deliberate incident?” He had asked, noting how stressed his little brother has been recently.

"The chaos energy from the explosion is over 7C of energy," Altitude explained, staying professional in the face of disaster. "That would be seven true chaos emeralds minimum. Whatever caused this explosion was intentional, there's no question."

"A weapon harnessing chaos energy..." Manic held his hand over his mouth, and thought. "Is there a list of victims?"

"Not yet, but-"

Manic slammed his fist on the table, seething with emotion. "What are we waiting for?! It's Scourge's last residence, we've got a warp ring to the city! Come on, we've gotta- We have to get there and see what happened!"

Shadow sighed a bit, but agreed. “It would be wise to check this out to be sure of the conditions.” He took one of his own rings that hang around his quills. “I can get us close, but we need to use caution in case someone we may know n’ isn’t friendly is there.”

Light nodded. “It's been getting harder for me to get around, but I want to be as helpful as possible.”

"Light, babe, you're taking care of a kid," Manic assured him. "You're helping out fine. Come on, we've still got a few days left before we've gotta return the warp ring, right?"

Manic checked his belongings one last time, and the three rushed to the vault room once again.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

When they stepped out of the loaned government car, they barely recognized what was left of the structure. G.U.N. agents, paramedics, and plenty of gawkers were already present to the ruins of the old rehabilitation facility. Whatever had caused the explosion had left a massive crater, twenty five square meters. The grass and plants directly adjacent to the crater that weren't incinerated seemed to have been burnt by fires that were still visible in the furthest wings of the building.

Light didn't even have a chance to leave the car. Manic was too scared by just the scale of the destruction that he gripped to Lights hand, desperate for grounding. He hadn't seen this same terror in Manic's eyes since the marker square explosion.

Lightly placing his hand on his shoulder, Light looked to him. “I’ll stay here since that mess would likely get me into trouble,” he said before looking to the remains. “I’m sure he wasn’t there when this happened.”

Shadow walked over near the mess itself. “That was one hell of a blast that hit here… I feel for the souls whom didn’t make it.” He sighed before looking around for a moment. The wait was unbearable for Manic. He sat with Light for comfort, joined Shadow in walking through the crowds, but all he could do was wait for some kind of a list of victims. Most of all, all he could to was worry, and in the end, clutch to Light for support. In the end, they finally received some kind of report... "Scourge... isn't on the list," Manic said, exhaling heavily. "And his pseudonym isn't either... Okay." Another heavy exhale. They turned on the radio and payed close attention to all the news that was delivered. About the explosion, the potential causes, and most importantly the albino echidna hurrying down highway 39 that police were told to be especially careful of. "This was meant to kill him, and Scourge isn't gonna just sit around and let himself get killed," Manic said. "He's gonna fight back. Looks, he's- He's gonna go after Finitevus, we've gotta get to him before Scourge does or he's gonna get killed." Heaving west down highway 39... Highway 39... "We've gotta follow him!" Manic impatiently jumped into the front seat of the car again, already revving the engine and motioning for Shadow to get in. Shadow spoke as he quickly joined him with Light in the car. “I agree we need to hurry, but how quick can we get to catching up with him n’ the white echidna?“ Light looked unsure, wishing he was able to fly without issues right now. “We just have to try, if you know the way Manic, let's get going.” Manic wasted no time. Maybe he had no idea how the highways were set up, but that's why there were signs. The government car was speeding down the highway in a matter of minutes. 75, 80, 85... the speed was constantly at least twenty MPH above the speed limit. However far Finitevus would have gotten by then, they were going to need to make up every mile, no matter what it took. The car weaved through the traffic at breakneck speeds as Manic paid careful attention to every sign, and every update on the chase on the echidna. It took far too long for Manic to come to the right conclusion. "We should- We should drop off Light somewhere," Manic conceded. "I don't want Finny to set off the weapon again and have him and Cassio... ..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. Shadow shook his head. “Light's drakestone is designed to protect him n’ the pup from lethal blows, n’ if I leave my drakestone with him he’ll be safe for sure. No harm will come to him, it's the advantage we had during the war n’ it will be his protection if we have to fight Finitevus,” he replied to Manic. “n’ if you don’t know my baby brother, he can be thickheaded when he wants to help as best he can.” Said winged hedgehog huffed at his brothers remark. "If we see signs of trouble I’ll step out,” he mumbled, the obvious signs of his stubborn nature peaking through. Manic wanted to object. He wanted to say that Light needed to stay out of the danger. But he knew Light was going to be safe, even if it didn't seem to register emotionally. He knew Light was going to want to come along anyways. And he knew any stops to drop him off would only halt their progress in trying to catch up with Finitevus. So the car kept speeding, all three passengers in tow. "The suspect is turning towards... ...driving a silver sports car... ...attempting escape through Midland city..." Manic retained a death grip on the wheel as the three traveled for miles and miles, almost hours as they desperately tried to catch up to Finitevus somehow. They had no idea if they were getting closer to not, all they knew was they had to keep driving until they could hear...! ...Police sirens! Thank heavens, they could start to hear the chorus of police sirens as they finally approached the city Finitevus had tried to escape through. They almost had him. They just had to pray that Finitevus wasn't going to harm anyone else before they got there. There was a large cracking sound, as if hundreds of whips had been snapped at once. The three could see what appeared to be a ball of golden light consume a factory building from a distance. Even from their distance, they could feel the heat. Even without seeing the ground surrounding the building, they could feel the earth shake as the foundation was caved in by the burst of pressure and watch the tops of the trees and plants growing near the building as they were were incinerated in a matter of moments. They had a location on him, and likely a higher body count. Unsure of how to react, Shadow glanced back to his brother while taking off his bracelet that had his amber stone on it. “Just in case we do end up in trouble,” he said to his royal kin. Light took it n’ looked to where the incident happened. “If I could get a clear line of sight of this guy, I could attempt snaring his tail with a spell… but its hard to tell where the bugger is.” He said a bit ruffed up in the mood. Manic immediately rushed over to the scene. There was already a wall of cop cars near the scene, but the officers inside looked stunned from the burst of energy. They just had to hope they had survived the burst. There was no doubt that the crater in the ground and the utter annihilation of the building were caused by the same thing that had destroyed the rehabilitation hospital back in Priscilla. And it was no doubt that this thing was whatever contraption a wandering echidna was carrying. It's design was similar to a shotgun in shape, but more bulky, covered in slick silver plates and, at the top, a chaos gemstone encased in a glass dome. The gem glowed dimly. "I wouldn't step too close," the echidna said, gun lazily directed towards the three. His eyes were black and didn't seem to reflect any light, his hands and limbs were emaciated and bony, yet his build seemingly strong. Everything from his posture to his delivery reflected a will of iron, his crooked smiled almost reflecting an enjoyment from the affairs. "I wasn't expecting to find you here," he seemed to coo out towards the remains of the factory building. "Come out wherever you are...~" Light’s ears folded back with a slight growl. “The devil do you think your doing causing so much trouble for so many?” He spoke up, hoping for a good shot to ensnare the white one plus the infernal weapon he’s made. His older brother glancing around for the possible green hedgehog they were trying to get to before hell broke out. ‘The stakes seem risen…’ he thought knowing how Light tended to anger easily when people were hurt. "I'm just testing some new technology," Finitevus cooed out. "Chaos gems are so hard to work with. They need time to recover... how annoying." The four stood on guard, careful to look for any kind of sign of Scourge and keep a close eye on one another. A violet rift formed newar the edge of the rubble. Was that a warp...? Slowly, a figure began to step through. Torn up, natty green boots. A leather jacket govered in hasty stitchwork to keep it together. And thick, amateur bandages covering a green chest. A Scourge stepped through the warp, a warp ring in one hand, and a cloth bag in the other. Even from the distance, they could feel the energy eminating from it. They knew that those were the stolen chaos gemstones. But as soon as he appeared, he seemed to falter. Scourge and Manic stared. In Scourge's eyes, Manic looked no worse for the wear. But Scourge looked like he'd been through hell. His clothes were torn, his body bruised and thinner than ever. The healthy thief and the beaten, battered Scourge could only take in the sight of their long-lost partner, and not know what to think. "There you are, you little pest...!" Finitevus mumbled. Scourge tried to jump back, he truly did. But the shock of seeing Manic again had wasted too much time. Shunt It was a dull, low sound. The three could only watch as Finitevus removed his three long claws from Scourge's chest, and watch him tumble to the ground and clutch his wounds. The bag fell, letting a mass of chaos gems in many varying sizes scatter to the ground. Shadow noted Light react out of instincts as he took to flight n’ used an earth bound spell to force the echinda back. “Damn it all, Light!” Shadow barked, bolting after him as he knew Light had more than offensive spells, but to leaving himself out in the open would be reckless. He understood why Light reacted, the poor royal had seen too much in his short life that its left him in a state to help anyone he can to avoid further loss. Light landed near the green hedgehog. ‘Chaos I don’t need this on my conscious,’ he thought being mindful to check him. His only hope was that he was still strong enough to treat such injuries. The spell that sent Finitevus flying backwards seemed to futz with his weapon. The gemstone clacked and clicked against the glass dome, letting out most of the chaos energy it had been storing in a pointless burst. The doctor looked down at a meter under the gem. It only delayed the recharge. When Scourge was rolled over, he could easily see the cuts through his bandages. They didn't slice or twist, thankfully, but Scourge was suffering some degree of organ damage. His breathing was heavy, but he was still living, even if the sight of another Scourge sitting over him made him feel like he was hallucinating. "You bastard... You bastard!!!" Manic didn't think twice about his moves. He just had to grab anything, which in his case, ended up being his switchblade. His rush was cut short by some kind of a weaker beam from the gun. A simple electrical burst that hit Manic hard and sent him tumbling to the ground twitching. He didn't feel deeply injured, but he was too stunned to do anything in the moment. Scourge grasped at one of the chaos gems closest to him. Judging by the shudder of all the various gems he'd collected, he was trying to activate a super form. But a sudden bloody cough stopped the attempt short. He looked at the Scourge, hoping that he was in fact an alternate. "Go super... and fuck him up," Scourge commanded in a weak, gritty voice. Light shook his head. “I can’t risk it…” he muttered slightly as he focused on some energy to help heal the injuries while his brother made his way over. “Brother is it possible to use the chaos gems as a substitute to the Drakestones since we don’t have all of them here trigger my other form?” He asked him.

Shadow seemed unsure n’ concerned. “If they had the same level of power as the drakestones maybe… but we don’t know what that could do to your health or the pup’s either,“ he said, nervous but on guard while his little brother worked to prevent Scourge's wounds from causing problems.

With a sigh, Light glanced to him. “You're the fastest other then your lover, try n’ get that thing away from him… it could make things easier… I should have asked the others to lend me their stones before we ever left.” Finitivus would have shot them right there if the gem weren't recharging it's energy. "Your majesty?" Finitivus announced from across the ruins. "I've heard you are an unmatched fighter... I wish I could've fought you in your prime...!" He shrieked. His little attempt at a monologue was enough time for Manic to pounce on Finitivus. Through the temporary stun and through the lingering pain, he lunged at finitivus and sunk his teeth straight into the doctor's calf. His teeth bit deep. Too deep. Manic didn't want to rest until he'd ripped that muscle off. Manic was hit in the face once with that large weapon the doctor was carrying around. "Insolent brat!" He screamed. There was another fierce slam when he let go. And again. And again. There were five ruthless blows to his face. He picked up his victim and hurled him towards the royals, landing mere feet from them. He aimed his weapon again, sending another fierce jolt of electricity, this time to Scourge. The energy seemed to knock the recovering hedgehog out, leaving him breathing, but not much else. "You've already lost." Finitivus commanded. "He's dead." But if his view of the pile of hedgehogs was any different, he would have noticed something tumbling out of Manic's jacket. The dire opal Fiona had attempted to steal rolled to the ground. The added energy seemed to push the stones over the edge, and they began glowing faintly. Light had yelped slightly when the attack came in their direction, n’ though he didn’t wish to risk any problems with attempting drake form, he still would risk what Scourge had tried to get him to do before. “There is just one issue I have with that statement Finitevus…I don’t lose till I am out,” he said having looked to Manic.

Shadow knew what he was going to risk doing, but he needed time to attempt this stunt, so he himself used his silver rings around his quills to warp swiftly n’ attack the echidna to give his little brother time. L‘lets hope we can remove this fool from his weapon.'

Light then looked over to the gemstones near him. ‘It's a risk… but one that is needed to get rid of this guy n’ protect my friends n’ family,’ he thought reaching for said gemstones. Manic was breathing heavy as blood started to trickle down his forehead. What was this going to mean? Was this actually going to summon that drake form the Lightwings were capable of, a super form, falter completely?! There was just enough chaos energy present to summon whatever this would summon... if it would even work. "Be safe, babe." Manic groaned out. But he still couldn't help but look at Scourge's body, unconscious, bloody, and just barely breathing. He crawled over and looked at his wounds. "Please wake up...!" The jolt from behind only cause the doctor to fumble forward a bit. He spun around and shot square an electric bolt square at his forehead. Miss. He tried backing away, but a fist slammed to the side of his chest and made his grip on the weapon falter slightly. The two desperately clawed at the weapon to try and take it from the other, neither succeeding and instead resulting in a stalemate between the two. Finitivus tried to slam the metal point at the tip of his boots into Shadow's feet. And again. Only the third succeeded in hitting, drawing blood but his grip remaining strong. "This is just a test of the technology," Finitivus grinned at the prince. "This is just the power of one emerald... and as soon as I've killed your king, I'll take the real weapon for a test... where should I aim first? Your homeland... or the home of Scourge's son, I wonder?~" He glanced over to Manic n’ Scourge. “He’ll survive… I can feel he’s stable, just took some heavy blows there,” he said to give Manic some reassurance, trying to get a handle on this energy n’ though he was nervous, he knew Shadow could only do so much. ‘Please let this work,’ he thought.

“The real weapon?” He hissed slightly to being snared like he had, n’ knew that if he got out alive that was going to hurt for a while. “You won’t be so lucky to get any other weapon out to use, echidna,” he said feeling a change in the energy in the air. "Oh, but I will," the doctor promised. "And even if I didn't... I'm sure those tentail boys would love to play with all those little toys I have." Finitevus planted one leg square on the ground, delivering a kick square to Shadow's chest with his metal tip piercing Shadow's solar plexus. He could feel the energy in the air, his weapon was ready. With Shadow barely distanced from him, he aimed the reticle square at Scourge, Light and Manic...! And nothing happened. The lights on the side of the dome the emerald was contained in beeped, telling him there was insufficient energy. "What the devil...?!" His glare fell to the gemstones beginning to glow and shudder with energy around the three. "Oh no you don't...!!!" Finitivus screamed with a primal anger, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a scalpel while he rushed the three hedgehogs. Shadow looked stunned for a moment, n’ realized where he was charging. “Light!” he called out as he had been greatly slowed due to the pain. He didn’t even know if his brother was capable of super/

Looking towards Shadow, he noted the Echidna n’ stood up, ready to fight back. "I wont let another fall," he growled at Finitevus, his wings stiffening from the energy that coursed through them. The energy tried to help them both, but the power in Scourge and Manic's bodies were only focused on healing the wounds the two had. Scourge was unconscious and couldn't fight back, and Manic- Manic had found some last shred of energy through his pain and tried his best to trip Finitevus. He grasped Finitevus's arm mid swing, stopping the scalpel before it hit his flesh. Finitevus struggled to keep his footing with Manic weighing down his arm and leg, and the heavy weapon carried in his right arm throwing off his balance. Manic didn't care about pain any more. He tried to cement himself the best he could as the energy from the chaos emeralds kept growing stronger. Finitevus finally pulled his arm away, stabbing Manic in the back of his shoulder. With a sudden breathy gasp, he toppled to the ground, twitching but very much alive. He threw Manic aside like a piece of laundry and spun around to face the king himself. One could almost swear they could hear metal grinding against stone, when in truth it was the king's feathers changed to elongated blades. “Try n’ come at me, I am more than capable of fighting you,” he said in a threatening tone old, instincts from the war days kicking up once more. “You won’t win this.”

Shadow made his way over as fast he could. ‘This could have gone better,‘ he thought nervously n’ noting how riled up the king was. "Engarde!" The doctor shouted, trying desperately to attack the king with the glades on his hands before the transformation was complete. They swung wildly, time and time again, but never managing to so much as scrape the feathers that had turned to metal. A hiedous shriek filled the air with each unsuccessful swipe. "...Fucking... monster..." Manic grumbled. He tried to attack the doctor, pulling the scalpel out of his flesh. He only had the energy to make one fierce swing ass he lay bleeding on the ground. The blade pierced the back of his foot, sinking a shallow but long cut into his paw. Finitevus stumbled again, aiming his weapon desperately and trying to summon another burst of energy. All it resulted in was more beeping, and a doctor desperate to stop a transformation he couldn't have halted. Though sticking mainly to defensive maneuvers, as he didn’t wish to leave himself wide open, he had lashed out from time to time with his clawed hands with little avail to hit. ‘Despite his shape he’s tough,’ Light had thought, but didn’t falter n’ when he noted him staggering from the loss of proper balance, he spun around to kick the echidna away from the two downed hedgehogs.

“Are you alright Manic?” Shadow asked, limping over to the still conscious hedgehog, glancing to Light only for a moment before checking the two that were down. Scourge wasn't in any worse shape, but he certainly wasn't any better. His jacket had been positioned over he new wounds in his chest to catch the blood that was still pouring, and hopefully get it to clot somehow. "I'm alive," he grunted, trying to focus on something positive. He took off his own vest and started to wrap it around the fresh wound on his back, wincing as he tied a weak knot to the front of his chest. "Don't worry about me, just- just mess him up, man!" Finitevus was, for once, properly knocked over. The weapon fell form his grip for just a moment, snatched up again as he tried to steady himself back on his feet. The energy flowing through Light was immense, and pushed him back farther than either of the two had expected. He grunted and aimed his gun square for the king undergoing transformation. The electric bolt fizzled and deflected into an amorphous disc upon contact with the sheer energy, before dissipating into the air. Another bolt, another deflection. Finitevus's weapon was useless. Shadow was a bit surprised. “Is that what super is like?” He asked, unsure yet curious, he had never recalled so much energy before n’ he was slightly cautious of it.

Light, though, could tell this may come with limitations as he wasn’t as strong as he would have without the pup on the way. “I better make this quick," he said lunging for the white one making an attempt to seize the weapon from him n’ pin him to the ground. Manic was dazzled at the wall of purple and golden light soaring above them. His super transformation carried the colors of both a prime and anti mobian. Rich warm gold and royal dark violet together, a vibrant, royal palette just as vibrant as the energy emanating from the king. The attempt worked. The lunge ended with Finitevus held by his neck to the ground by an almost crushing force, his weapon hastily discarded to his side. His struggles under Light's grip were fruitless. As strong as he was, the grip on his neck was cutting off circulation slightly, and he knew if he held like this, he was likely to pass out if his windpipe wasn't crushed. He tried to dig into his pockets, but he didn't have the range of arm movement. All he could do was spit on Light's face, in some vain effort to try and free himself. Flinching only slightly, he resisted the urge to just end him. Instead he used his powers to bind the echidna. “That should hold you,” he said, before standing again n’ walked over to take the gem that was in the weapon, n’ then looked over to Manic, relieved that he was well, hurt, but alright. He then turned his attention back to Finitevus. “I don’t know why you’d be stupid enough to assist the tentails, but I will put an end to that as well…” he muttered slightly.

Shadow reached over to check on Scourge, n’ be sure the wound had healed. ‘Your'e a lucky fool...’ he gave a light huff. It looked as though the cuts on Scourge's chest had healed, but he wasn't conscious, and his chest was barely rising any more. Manic crawled up to lay near him, and look closely to his face. "I've found you..." He mumbled with a sad relief, kissing his unconscious mouth. The new source of chaos energy was met harshly by the other chaos gems surrounding him. It seemed to upset the patterns of their rotation and energizing. The slowly tumbled out of rotation as the gold and violet hues disappeared from the king's body. His body reverted to it's normal state, the crystals retained their energy and fell to the rubble of the old factory. Finitevus struggled with his bonds and growled, but could do nothing. He was caught. Everyone else was still alive, if wounded. And no one else was hurt. He knew he had lost. Light carefully made his way over to Manic n’ Scourge n’ made sure to sit down immediately after getting there. He chuckled slightly. “That was something entirely new to me…” he said feeling worn out. “N’ I’m sure that is gonna be a last resort when I don’t have the drakestones all together.”

Shadow sighed. “I’m sure the medics will arrive shortly. I can sense they are close… or I can use my ring to get us back to the castle safely where you n’ the rest of us can get treated in a more comfortable area?” He gave the options knowing how tired Light was suddenly. "Not yet... not yet...!" Finitevus screamed. There was another strange surge of energy. The could feel it before the say what was happening. The chaos gems were shaking again, but not for the king. That extra chaos emerald seemed to add to the power immensely, almost multiplying in intensity off of the other stones. "I'm not done yet...!" "No... No, stop! Stop!" Manic screamed. "It's too late!" The doctor screamed. Through his bindings, the gemstones drifted into the air, and began gifting their energy to him once more. It was as though this extra gem was adding to the transformation speed, as in a moment, they could watch his skin begin to turn to a dark, rich purple. "I'm going to kill you ONCE AND FOR ALL!!!" "No, it's- it's not that!" Manic yelled weakly. "You need- such a specific amount of energy to go super! You can't throw in another gem, if there's too much energy...!" The purple was growing darker and yet more vibrant, until his skin appeared to be a consuming black tone emitting a darkness from around his body as naturally as the sun emitted light. Features went indistinct as Finitevus realized that he couldn't stop the transformation. Energy began to bubble under his skin in cysts of pure chaos, warping his metallic black skin that had darkened the area until it looked as though it were midnight. Suddenly, the bubbles on his skin burst, sending out intense rays of pure golden light and heat. The bubbled and cracks in his body grew larger, so large that his left leg dropped off and disintegrated into flecks of black that suddenly disappeared. He let out one final, fatal shriek as the rest of his body flaked away... The intense darkness and intense light burst at once, and the gems plummeted to the ground once again. All that was left was the burnt bindings that once held Finitevus down... and no traces he had even existed. Shadow was a bit caught off by that, mentally noting the hazards of too much energy. “Poor fool didn’t realize his mistake till it's too late,” he said before looking to Light n’ noted the young king must have passed out from exhaustion. “Think you can handle helping me get these two to a medic so we can be sure that we are all fine?” "Yeah... Yeah, I hope so." Manic said, standing to his feet shakily. He couldn't believe that was actually Scourge there, even after having seen and heard him. It almost felt like a strange fever dream. Light was laying back first. Manic held his hand over the baby... and felt a light kick. He was still fine. He tried to hold Light by his shoulders, but the piercing pain in his shoulder was too great. "You... you get all the gems together," Manic ordered, fumbling up. He didn't want to leave, but he had to force himself to. "I'll go find someone... ..." The stunned police had survived mostly unharmed. Within minutes, the scene was swarming again. Local officers taking statements, CSI examining every piece of rubble and taking far too many photos of the loose pile of bindings, and several ambulances looking after a few civilians caught in the energy burst and the four hedgehogs. "The electric shock must have been too much for his system," a doctor said as he looked over Scourge. "He may be unconscious for a few days." Manic sat down on a soft cushion in an ambulance, leaning against the barely conscious Light and watching on while doctors performed various assessments of their conditions. Shadow nodded a bit. “I can understand. How is my little brother, I’ve never seen such a drain on him before…” He wanted to know n’ he doubted his brother would want them to stray far from the unconscious green one for a bit just to be sure. He had explained what happened to whom they were pursuing earlier so they don’t jump to any unneeded conclusions. "Your brother is exhausted, that's all." She said, pushing her hair out of her eyes to read some jotted down data. "The chaos energy hasn't had any effects on the baby. He'll probably want asprin, but he's perfectly healthy." Manic hugged Light in relief. The blood through his vest had started to clot. The doctor called in some other paramedics. "We're going to need to check Scourge for organ damage and stitch up the stab in Manic's back," she said as the back doors began to close. "You're lucky Scourge survived that stab. It's nothing short of a miracle he's still breathing." The bag of chaos gems cluttered beneath Manic's feet as the four drove off towards the hospital. "You saved all of us," Manic reiterated to Light, exhausted and in pain but jubilant. "You've saved all of us... All of us..." He kissed Light on the cheek gently, not knowing what else to say. Light was letting out a cute mewl as he really felt the need to sleep, but he did appreciate the attention n’ news that the baby was safe. “I wanted all of us to continue without loss…n’ I promised to help you find Scourge alive might I add.” He gave a sleepy chuckle as he glanced over to Manic. “Scourge will heal, I managed to heal enough before I was disrupted…he maybe a bit on the sore side when he wakes, but he’ll be fine.” Shadow chuckled softly. “We’ll all be fine, Light. For now just try n’ get some sleep, your energy is kinda low,” he said to his brother n’ there was no complaint from his royal brother, whom just closed his eyes n’ drifted off quick. ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ The chaos gems were kept safely away in the royal vault. The ring was returned. The media hoopla was mostly finished, Manic and Light were doing fine, but Scourge was still unconscious. "It's been a week," Manic mumbled. An extra hospital bed was pulled up next to the one Scourge was using in the castle infirmary, all so Manic could cuddle up to him. "I know they said he would be unconcious for a while, but... I miss him. I've missed him for two and a half years, I don't need this." He stood up and walked over to the seat Light was using. He patted Light's stomach. "We're eight months in..." Manic said, not sure what to think. "I still can't believe we're doing this... I can't wait to meet Cassio. This is gonna change a lot for them, isn't it?" “I know, it can be exciting to know it's almost time to finally meet the rascal who has done nothing but give me trouble the last month.” Light chuckled softly as he looked to Manic, n’ then to his figurative green twin. “He’ll wake soon enough too, I can feel his energy getting stronger each day, its only time that will say when he wakes up again.” In the last week, Shadow had taken to keeping the castle in order with their king due in a matter of weeks, n’ no one wanted a stressful royal at the moment. "I know. You're right. You're always right." Manic said with a bit, goofy smile. He hugged Light gently and smiled. "You know I love hanging out with kids... I dunno if this'll ruin that for me or if it's gonna make things so much easier. Maybe both. Probably both." He sighed happily. He pulled back, and looked back down. The last many months had seemed to rocket by. "I'm thinking when he gets up... I might sleep in Scourge's room for a little while." He sounded almost guilty by this. "It's just a few doors down, I can run in if you need baby stuff, someone to make stupid puns with. But I- Maybe we can set up one of those baby monitors, and you can say if you need something?" Light had smiled when he had given that goofy smile of his. “It's those steps though will be worth it,” he said n’ he never faltered in understanding Manic’s reasons either. “I know you n’ him have some catching up to do, n’ me hogging you all day wouldn’t be fair to helping him ease back into a better setting, yet I still wonder how he will take to the news of the baby?” He wondered aloud for a moment. "He already has one kid," Manic admitted. "But I guess I've got no idea." The two sat where they were, talking about... anything. The future, the child, to the most menial, pointless tripe. They had spent a few days like this already, and those they didn't, Manic spent alone in this room. His weekly performance had been cancelled just so he would be sure he wouldn't miss Scourge waking. Just another day. And by some miracle, they began to hear a groan from the bed early in the afternoon. And a twitch. His vitals had stayed stable, but he hadn't responded to any stimuli. Manic shot up the moment he thought he heard the sound, and couldn't believe what he was seeing. The twitches slowly turned to slow arm motions, until he was holding his forehead with his eyes clamped shut, clearly dealing with a terrible headache. These worries stopped when he finally opened his eyes to see Manic there again. His gaze might have shifted to Light a couple of times, but he was seeing Manic head on. "... ...Manic?" He couldn't quite believe it, either. "Finny is dead," Manic said with a small smile. "He's gone. We're safe, babe." With a soft smile, Light got up n’ walked over to the counter to grab the now wake hedgehog some medicine to treat his headache n’ a glass of water, being mindful of his own steps as even a week after the incident, he was a little wobbly. Still he guessed it was cause he was so drained before n’ he’s still recouping from that day. He eventually set it on the table next to them. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Light said to Scourge with a lighthearted chuckle. Scourge was just as surprised as before to see that he wasn't making things up. There was a Scourge alternate in front of him. He was similarly surprised to see the large baby bump he seemed to be carrying. "How... much've I missed?" He said, in mild shock. Manic put his hand on Scourge's neck, Scourge closing his eyes and leaning his head towards Manic's hand. Manic pulled him in for a long kiss. A kiss to make sure it was the same mouth they'd known for years. They pulled back, both certain of the other's identity. Scourge grinned. "Sorry I left for that long." "You've missed a ton, babe." Manic said simply. He pulled up a chair for Light to sit in, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "We have a lot to catch up on."

#Last-Of-My-Bloodline #Show's Over #There's A Melody Playing #Strong Language #Violence

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satire-please · 8 years ago

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Where the Moon and Night Meet

Summary: For @the-all-seer‘s bday. :) Enjoy my dear, I love you to pieces. I had this A/B/O idea for FFXV where what if the whole bloodline of Lucis were Omegas? And what if an Omega Noctis meets an Alpha Luna for the first time as kids. Adorable fluff with Awesome!Dad Regis and a bit of world building thrown in.

Long ago the Starscourge fell upon Eos and laid its land and people to waste. Seeing the aftermath of the rampage, one of the six took pity at humanity scant and few on the surface. Therefore she blessed humanity with secondary characteristics, secondary genders so they will always have the ability to multiply or prosper. Each gender possessed a deep instinct or drive so their people could thrive.

Alphas were to fight, protect and defend their own from all.

Betas kept order and peace throughout the land.

Omegas nurtured, gave and sacrificed what was necessary for tomorrow’s future.

Currently though as Noctis watches Prompto, he doesn’t feel really peaceful. No, he feels like he wants to strangle the beta. Huh, maybe then he’ll be at peace?

“So Noct are you excited to be getting married?” The open road made Prompto excited and restless. “I mean it’s Lunafreya. She’s practically a goddess made flesh!”

Noctis eyes Prompto and tries a gruff, “I guess.” But he can’t really stop his heart from beating a little harder at the thought of their upcoming reunion. Neither can he stop the pleased, but anxious scent that floods the Regalia.

“Awwwww, are you nervous? Don’t be! Any Alpha is lucky to have you as their Omega.” And Prompto leans over the seat to get into Noct’s face and wag his eyebrows suggestively. “And to think? An Alpha putting a ring on our Noct.”

Gladio snorts into his hand as he leans out the window, “Who knows, maybe Noct will finally listen to an Alpha for once.”

“Ha, you wish.” Noct snaps back with a laugh.

“Everyday.” Gladio mutters, “Every fucking day.”

“You would be surprised.” Ignis of course cannot help but add his two cents in. “Noct and Miss Lunafreya have always been quite partial to each other. Even when they first met, Noctis was very eager to most of her suggestions.”

“Ignis…” Noctis growls lightly sensing danger in the smug smell that Ignis emits. This can’t be good.

Ignis just smirks in the rearview mirror. “In fact, if I recall correctly, the prince even starting purring after Miss Luna suggested giving him a tour of the grounds herself.”

Prompto whips his head around from Ignis to Noctis so fast that Noctis hopes that Prompto doesn’t have a neck injury. Then he takes the thought back immediately when the biggest chocobo-eating grin that Noct has ever seen splits across his face.

“Oh realllllllllly.” Purring is an important sign omegas unconsciously give out only when they’re deeply content or happy about something.

“Ignis shut up!” Noct whines. He tries to get up to grab the driver’s shoulder, cover his mouth, or do something to shut the man up. Anything to stop what’s definitely going to be an embarrassing, traumatic story about his early omega days. Unfortunately, Gladio wants that hazing moment badly enough to reach over to push Noct back into his seat.

“Sit down, and didn’t your pop ever tell you it’s not safe to disturb the driver. Plus I desperately need to hear this.”

Ignis pushes his glasses up his nose, “Of course the tour of the grounds turned into a tour of the gardens and then Miss Lunafreya stated she must for diplomacy’s sake show him around the household, which of course turned into a tour—“

“Of her bedroom?” Gladio leers at Noct and blocks the punch aimed his way. “Look at you Prince, a real lady killer I’m so proud~”

“It wasn’t like that. We were just kids!” Noctis hissed, his ears bright red. And the rest of the gang coo and aww like the assholes they are at the sight. Any time Noct shows other emotions than brooding and quiet determination is a point in their favor.

“Indeed, Gladio. There’s no need to be crude. Such remarks reflect poorly upon the innocence of the two that practically bonded at first sight. But yes, a tour of the bedchambers occurred at one point.” Ignis stops purses his lips in thought. “In truth during our short yet memorable stay, Noct could usually be found in her quarters.”

“Oh my god, you’re making things worse.” Noct groans, burying his face in his palms and tries to find a reason not to hurl himself out of the car. As if he can find one. Noct unbuckles the seat belt and leans over the Regalia’s side. Maybe there’s a decent warp point from here. The whiplash is going to suck but if he can get away from the ribbing….

“Geez Noct, don’t look like that!” Prompto chides. As a beta he starts emitting a calming scent at Noct’s caged expression. “We’re just kidding!”

“Yeah, don’t get your panties in a twist, your highness.” Gladio grabs the edge of Noct’s jacket, because he wouldn’t put it pass the idiot to trying warping when they’re going 85 miles per hour.

“Leave my underwear out of this,” Noctis snarls, but lets the pushy Alpha tug him back into place. “And just can it okay?”

Prompto pouts. “But you two must have been so cute!”

“They were.” Ignis reminisces, “They still are.”

“But that stuff, it’s…ours. I don’t want to—I don’t need to share it.” Noct glances to the three before watching the scenery rush by. “Does that even make sense?”

“Well, you have always been a private kinda guy.” Prompto says scratching his head.

Gladio grunts. “Ha. That’s one way to put it, but fine. I guess we’ll lay off for now.”

“For the current moment. A quick respite.” Ignis acknowledges that there is a time and place, “Yet the closer we get to your wedding, the loser my lips will be. I hope you can forgive me when I crack.”

“I’ll try.” Noct say dryly. But is grateful for the break. He takes a deep breath and for a while gets lost down memory lane himself. And when he met her.

She was the shiniest thing Noct had ever seen.

When Dad said they were visiting Tenebrae to help with diplomatic relations as well as to acquaint Noct to kingdoms besides his own. Noct had been sullen because Dad was lying. Again. Noctis isn’t an idiot; he does pay attention to his lessons. Besides everyone knows Tenebrae is infamous for its healing magics.

This was another thing to try to fix his useless legs. To try to fix him.

Insomnia’s doctors and medics had tried everything to cure the injury to his spine and legs…but nothing. Procedure after procedure was met with failure and Noct is sick with the way his father’s face twists from hope to heartbroken disappointment every single time. As if each setback adds to guilt Regis carries of not being there for his son when the monster attacked.

Noctis will never forget the way his Dad tore into that creature.

Noct knows that in other countries, people like to color Omegas as the weakest cast, but if they could only see his father annihilate the threat to his child. How the armiger glowed and burned stronger than the fire. Or the hands pressed on his back and sides trying frantically to stop the puddle of his blood from getting larger.

The worst part was when he woke up to his Dad sobbing. The broken, “We’ll find a way Noct, I promise. I promise.”

“I know.” Noctis had weakly mewed. But he wishes his father would be okay if they don’t. If Noct does have to use the wheelchair for the rest of his life.

And he knows that Dad will still love him, but Regis can’t stop the whispers of Noct not only being an omega, but an injured one. Sure the whole royal bloodline of Lucis have always been omegas but the council does not need another excuse to be more overprotective and smothering to its rulers. Regis already regularly duels to show his fighting competence, that yes he can leave his crown city and come back in one piece.

Noct? Noctis doesn’t have a chance right now.

In this instance though? His bad mood, bad thoughts fade away. Her eyes are so blue. They match a summer sky with hair so blonde it’s like starlight that frames her soft smile.

“Hello, Prince Noctis. My name is Lunafreya. Welcome to Tenebrae.” The girl bends just a little bit over his wheelchair to offer her hand.

Noctis takes it, wow she’s so warm, and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you Lunafffff-, Lunafre—” He feels his mouth snap closed, his cheeks on fire. What the heck is wrong with him?

And Noct always thought Alphas were kind of intimidating or jerks, but the girl just seems to sparkle at his response. “The pleasure is all mine.” She feels her heart swell, taking in the red flush spreading on the boy’s skin. She leans closer to him, the distance between them narrowing as she lets her presence soothe any embarrassment. “If it’s alright with you,” Lunafreya drops her voice to a whisper. “Would you call me Luna?”

“Luna.” Noctis breathes, his eyes so lovely with her reflection and oh Lunafreya is going to keep this person.

“I like the way you say my name.” Lunafreya can’t help but inhale the prince’s scent. She wants to know it, be able to find in a crowd or across the sea if she needs to. Noctis’ smell has the tint of sweetness all omegas carry, but it’s like earth after a thunderstorm, charged with lightning and fresh with rain.

She loves it.

She squeezes Noctis hand, turning her hold from passive to active and spins to her Mother rapidly. Her white fur cape brushes over Noct’s bare arm and his breathing hitches. Underneath the cloth, Luna gently grips his forearm, pressing the scent glands at their wrists together. Their scents will mix and though Noct doesn’t exactly want to let go, he kinda really wants to see what the new blend smells like.

“Mother, may I show Prince Noctis the grounds? I’m sure Noctis would appreciate our national flower the sylleblossom.” She looks imploringly to the Queen. “It would do well to show him what makes Tenebrae great.”

It’s so slight, but Regis is close enough to discern the quiet noise coming from the back of his son’s throat. Noctis is purring. It’s been so long since Regis heard that sound, he feels his brow furrow. Well. This is an unexpected turn of events.

When the Lucian King looks over to Queen Sylva, another Alpha in their family, he sees that he is not the only one who’s surprised. “Why Lunafreya, that’s a lovely idea. Thank you for being so accommodating.”

“How could I not Mother, which such honored guests?” Regis will admit the girl is very eloquent for one of her age. Almost savvy, she’ll be a political, yet polite terror if or when she takes her mother’s throne.

Sylva Nox Fleuret gives a sweeping gesture behind her, “I can only be grateful for such a hospitable daughter. When you are finished, you can meet us at the courtyard.”

“Thank you Mother.” Slowly she detaches her hand from Noctis, who gives a downtrodden look until Luna whispers something into his ear so quietly not even Ignis holding Noct’s chair can hear. Yet when she places a hand on the chair’s handlebar…she sharpens.

“Where to Miss Lunafreya? Or shall we just follow you?” Ignis says coolly.

“Actually, I was thinking I could take over your duties for once. As a royal retainer, there’s so much for you to do during a trip such as this. You could dedicate yourself to making sure the prince’s accommodations are suitable if you like. I do not mind pushing the prince around.” Lunafreya’s words are civil, but the look she gives….is less so.

As a Beta Ignis shouldn’t feel riled up by the little upstart, but two can play that game. “I’m sure I can balance all of my duties princess. There’s no need for your concern.” He smiles chillingly.

“Nonsense. Besides I’m certain the prince—“

“Noctis. If I can call you Luna…you can call me Noctis or Noct.” Between the blondes, the prince mumbles.

“—I’m certain Noctis,” Luna rolls the name in her mouth like it’s delicious, “would enjoy spending time with someone closer to his age.”

“Now see here—“

“Ignis.” Noctis halts the tirade in its tracks. “I-I’d like that. Can I, I mean may I go?”

And Ignis has never been good at denying his prince. Ever. “Oh, alright. I’ll expect you in the courtyard.” The tired teenager relents.

“Thanks.” And that small appreciative smile is the reason Ignis folds like a deck of cards.

Beaming, Lunafreya takes the handles somewhat graciously and wheels the heir away from the group. Her voice chattering in the distance, interspersed with a couple low tones from Noctis.

Regis pats Ignis’ shoulder. “Rest assured Ignis, Miss Lunafreya will give the best of care to our dear Noct.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, your Majesty.” Ignis dares to utter as he bows to leave. “But as the princess mentioned I have things to attend to.”

Then it’s only the monarchs with their retinues in the clearing left. Sizing up each other, Alpha to Omega, Sylva beckons with an expression of keen interest.

“Come, you must be tired from your journey.” She takes in how exhausted the man looks, and the instincts in Sylva growl a bit. Surely Lucia should do better to support their omegas. “We now have even more to talk about.”

The halls of the Fleuret Manor ring with Regis’ clipped footsteps. The king searches for his son as the night waxes, passing room upon room of calming tones of blue and purple. True, Regis could have had Ignis do the task, but there is a kind of fulfillment of putting one’s own child to bed.

Also it is an excuse to escape the Queen’s clutches.

The woman is a kind one, yet Regis wishes she would focus more on the care of his son than him. Sometimes he swears Sylva combines the mother-hening force of the entire Lucian counsel. Her views on the care of Omegas…are different than his own.

But besides his health, the monarchs have started to contemplate the future of their heirs. Regis would rather ponder about Noct’s marriage when the boy is thirty. But it is a possible match, a possible alliance. Even this afternoon the conversation followed different variations of:

“Truly you can see the advantages of such an arrangement, Regis.”

“Yes, but I fear the fates have a very different picture of the future than we do.”

“Then should we not press for even the scantest trace of their happiness?”

And Miss Lunafreya and Noctis are very fond of one another. They spend much of their waking hours in each other’s company and it is good to hear Noct’s laughter again. In addition there is finally progress with Noctis’ injuries; the healers truly have earned their reputation well. The prince exhausts quickly, only few steps before he collapses…usually into Lunafreya’s arms.

On that note, Regis easily deducts Noctis’ whereabouts.

He’s about to knock on the young lady’s door, but his hand freezes at the sound of Noct’s voice.

“This feels kinda weird Luna.”

“You think so? I swear I’m doing it right.” A rustle. “Is it a bad weird or a good weird?”

“I’m not sure…it almost tickles?”

“Well you let me know if you want me to stop.” And then there’s a wet noise.

Regis gurgles and wretches the door open. On Miss Lunafreya’s bed the two sit side by side with Luna’s head buried into his precious son’s neck. Their fingers intertwined as the girl kittenly licks Noct’s nape as if preparing to…

The Dear Six, they’re attempting a mating bite.

“Lunafreya Nox Fleuret what do you think you’re doing?” Noctis jerks at Regis’ shout while Luna looks up frightened.

“Sir, I-I—“ Tears spring from the girl’s eyes.

“Get away from him.” The king strides forward with the intent to rip them apart. “I cannot believe that someone of your prestige would dare—“

“Stop yelling at her, it was my idea!” Noct yells twisting his body in front of Luna’s.

“Noctis.” Regis stares at his son shocked.

“We…” He looks to his friend for guidance. “Luna?”

Softly she explains, “We overheard that it is most likely for us to be married.”

“But no one asked us what we thought. You didn’t, Luna’s mother didn’t. Nobody even asked us what we wanted.” Noctis blurts out shakily.

“So we discussed it. We desired to do something…without being told to do it.”

“So I asked Luna to be my bride.” Noctis states with determination.

“And I asked Noctis to be my omega.” She stares at Noctis in wonder. “He said yes.”

A quiet smile graces Noct’s face and he takes a second to nuzzle Luna’s face. “We both said yes…but words aren’t enough. A mark is stronger, better. It’s something that can’t be erased.”

“B-but a mating bite?” Regis choked out. He had planned to have this type of conversation with Noctis later. Much, much, much later.

“Why not?” Noctis stubbornly retorts. He points to Regis accusingly. “You still rub the one Mom gave you sometimes.”

“And my mother still bares my father’s mark proudly, even years after his death.” Luna adds. From behind she wraps her arms tight around her dear one’s waist. If the king of Lucis wishes to remove her, they’ll have to cut her arms off first. Luna will hold on, Noctis is worth it.

“So there’s no reason for you to be mad, Dad. We did nothing wrong!”

Regis pauses and chooses his words carefully. “It’s not necessarily that it’s the wrong action, as it is the wrong time.”

“What do you mean?”Noctis glares when Regis finishes crossing the room to sit on the bed.

“A mating bite is special. It should be done after your wedding ceremony. When you’re together for the first time as a pair, alone and somewhere private.”

“But we were together alone and somewhere private. Until you butted in.”

“And older, Noctis.” Regis snaps, “Much older and mature. You are still children for heaven’s sake.”

He can see the two getting ready to argue more and puts up a hand. “But there is something that you can do now. Something that’s more appropriate for your age and circumstance.”

“And what would that be, King Regis?” Luna asks eagerly.

“A bite of intent. A bite that designates a willingness to begin a courtship.” Regis looks to his hands. “A relationship takes time. Time to develop, time to grow. Even if this arranged marriage does take place I, and your mother Lunafreya, would never force you children into something you’re not ready for.”

He gets up from the bed to kneel in front of the children. “You can take your time. And if you change your mind, we will wholeheartedly accept your decision. Yet for now, there’s no need to rush.”

Luna and Noctis look at each other and then back to Regis. “Alright. How do we do a bite of intent?” Noctis questions.

Regis takes a deep breath in relief. Oh, thank the stars he found the pair before anything else could happen. “The two of you will take the other’s wrist and bite down on the scent gland there. It will hurt and feel strange as it does create somewhat of a fledgling bond, but I will watch you to make sure it is done right.”

Noctis nods and offers Luna his wrist, Luna does the same. Luna presses gentle kisses to light blue veins she finds while Noctis mouths the pulse on hers, but neither do anything until Regis nods.

“Ready…bite.”

In unison the two bite down hard, wincing for a moment as blood fills their mouths but soon their expression turn relaxed and sated.

Noctis feels something snap into place. It’s like going home or seeing an old friend you didn’t know you had. It’s Luna. A bright feeling of happiness almost overtakes the prince, and it increases as he realizes that Luna’s emotions echo his.

It’s wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

Quietly, Regis reaches over to tug their wrists towards him to wipe off the blood, and wrap the sluggish wounds. They’ll heal almost immediately, but they will leave a faint scar.

All that’s left is to carry his wayward son to bed and think of ways to avoid Queen’s Sylva’s smug inquires tomorrow.

“Now say goodnight, Noct.” His son is getting bigger, but Regis treasures each moment he can still hold his boy like this.

“Goodnight Luna.” Noctis sends a feeling of contentment down the bond.

The warm emotion bounces back with a peal of joy. “May you have sweet dreams, Noctis.”

And he does.

In the present, Noctis rubs the white mark on his wrist hidden by bracelets and charms. The bond is faint between his intended, distance stretches it as fine as a strand of hair, but it’s still there.

Noctis feels a brush of apprehension, of excitement…of hope from her. ‘I miss you too.’ He tries back, he can’t send words exactly but maybe the impression will be enough.

Well at least that’s one thing Ignis can’t embarrass him with. The memory of the ‘almost’ mating bite, their first step as a couple. That’s all Luna’s and Noct’s. It’s all theirs.

‘I’m coming.’ Noctis thinks and prays. ‘Just wait for me Luna, I’m coming…’

#my writing #ffxv #final fantasy xv #fic rec...for ME #noctis lucis caelum #lunafreya nox fleuret #noctis x luna #regis lucis caelum

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