#royalty!AU

[scealaiscoite]

head of state x captain of their personal guard prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🕊️ ꒱

¹⁾ “must you always make my job so very difficult, your highness?”¹ “someone with your prowess must be challenged, captain. how else will i see to it that i made the right choice in selecting you for the job?”²

²⁾ “*name*, i’m begging you. if you won’t listen to me as your guard, then listen to me as someone who loves you - please let me get you to safety before it’s too late.”

³⁾ “what were you playing at, looking at me like that from across the court?!”

“since when do you feel permitted to give your opinion on matters of the crown?!”¹ “since i fell in love with the person wearing it.”²

⁴⁾ “when i told you to forget our titles during our sparring lessons, i didn’t think you’d actually follow through.”

⁵⁾ “i’m beginning to think you’ve only taken to spending so much time in the throne room to show off for me.”

⁶⁾ “i’ve dreamt of making you my consort more than i’d like to admit.”

⁷⁾ “so not only have you been ‘entertaining’ marriage prospects, but you didn’t even deem fit to tell me about it yourself? am i not even worth that to you?”

⁸⁾ “if the lords/ladies-in-waiting spy you leaving my quarters in the morning again, i fear we’ll be fielding more question than we can answer.”

⁹⁾ “you know how direly i hate these balls, my love.”¹ “yes, i do. but i also know how very much you love me, so i’m hoping one will cancel the other out.”²

¹⁰⁾ “you do remember that i’m supposed to be the one protecting you, yes?”

[ryuzakemo128]

who wants a royalty au of poly141 with pirate hunter reader?

Think about it. Four dukes meet a princess who is coincidentally a pirate hunter.

Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

If you would like to have a say/ input for this idea: Link to a poll.

The Defiant preys upon other vessels belonging to pirates, bandits, assassins, slavers, marauders, and thieves. Described as a beast with an insatiable appetite. Its prey deliberately chosen before headhunting those with influence inside those few communities. Targeting the ones who gather the most power amongst the pirates, slavers, and marauders.

The defiant is maintained by the pirate ships, she cleaves through in half with the obsidian blade in the front of the war ship. A blade made from obsidian and steel.

The wood of the ships would be used to fix damages incurred, and anything left over would be stored as cargo. Anything of value would be secured in safes to prevent theft from third party groups and individuals. Ensuring nothing of the wreck is left behind once they're done.

The Defiant's crew likely assess the materials on the conquered ships for quality and usability before dismantling them.

Usable wooden components are carefully removed and sorted for potential repairs or reinforcements.

Valuable metals, fabrics, and other resources are extracted and catalogued for later use or trade.

The obsidian blade is used to efficiently cut through enemy ships, minimising damage to the Defiant while maximising the harvestable materials.

Skilled carpenters and blacksmiths on board The Defiant repair and reinforce the ship with the salvaged wood and metal.

Any excess materials are stored in the ship's hold as cargo, providing additional resources for trade or barter.

The Defiant gets large shipments from outposts you have created all over the world, hubs of intelligence gathering, recruitment, trade, repairs, and maintenance. 

Your ties to people within the black market, information brokers, contraband trade, blacksmiths, mercenary services, protection rackets, money laundering, hidden workshops and safe houses. 

Planting disinformation whenever the target needs to be forced out of hiding. 

While also maintaining a close eye on the region as a hub for their spy network. One that you have meticulously established over the years to help hunt down more pirates, obtain more resources and expand their range of influence. 

Working on your own for this long has been taxing on your mind. So how do you do it when things constantly require your attention for one thing or another?

They called you, ‘Ghost of the High Seas’, ‘The Iron Maiden’, ‘The Merciless’, ‘The Pirate Killer’ and ‘The Human Shark’.  

However, once someone got your loyalty, they would have to do something so heinous and vindictive against you to lose it.

You didn’t give out demands.

You gave out requests.

For things which for sensitive souls in the royal department often took as forceful demands with a dramatic flourish. 

John heard a rumour of how you asked for something. But a Duchess took it as an aggressive demand.

Which he thought was either a declaration of war or an exaggerated complaint about you. Either way, you weren’t to be crossed, regardless of how simple your requests actually were.

You didn't need to raise your voice to get what you wanted; a simple, firm look usually did the trick.

John chuckled to himself whenever someone complained about how you managed to make it sound like a demand. Your diplomacy was as subtle as a sledgehammer, or a knife in the back. Depending on who you were dealing with. 

It worked surprisingly well in your favour.

It was all part of your charm. But you didn’t think you had charm. Something which he vehemently disagreed with you. 

To him, you had it in spades, enough to sink a merchant’s ship. His first meeting with was in court. You were mumbling, grumbling and scowling about having to wear a dress.

“‘I must take care to maintain a vigilant watch over you and all matters of such impropriety.’” you were as sour as a cat trying to get the taste of lemon off their tongue. 

The dress you wore, a midnight blue colour with matte silver trimmings, and silver embroidery in the skirts. The skirts hovered just above the marble floor.

Custom-made as well as custom-designed to suit your personality and fit your physique perfectly. The dress in made of soft feeling velvet. The underskirts of the dress have both satin and silk underlay. Underneath the silk and satin is a layer of cotton for added comfort.

The three throwing knives sat firmly. Comfortably in your garter. It provided another level of security in case you felt cornered by someone you didn’t trust. The fan you used to cool yourself down had feathered tips along the edge, matching your dress.

It was all part of your charm. 

Which had earned you the respect of many and the fear of those who knew you well. Price had seen it in action during your second meeting. You'd simply looked at a man twice your size and said.

“Might I entreat you for the loan of that map? Your generosity would be greatly appreciated.” and somehow, it had ended with him handing it over without a fight. It was uncanny.

“I am wholly indifferent to the duration required for its completion, provided that the task is executed with care. Such an undertaking demands an ample allowance of time, for one cannot hasten the attainment of perfection, even should the final result fail to appear flawless to the discerning eye of another.” you told your second-in-command.

You weren't petty, vindictive or sadistic. The preferred term you loved to call yourself is more, realistic, tinged with cynicism in your terms and conditions.

Strolling right past the four of them. Blatantly ignoring them. Not even giving them a sideways glance.

Your mind wasn’t focused on any of them. You had a target on your mind. The focus totally on your own mission. Your own priorities.

"Didn't your father give you a warship at sixteen?" John would overhear in complete disbelief. A warship for your sixteenth birthday? Was your father mad or just incredibly wealthy?

"I didn't just hear that, did you hear what I just heard? I'm not going hearing things, am I?" Kyle asked the other three.

"The defiant is more than enough. It dwarfs every warship stationed at this dock, and you know it." you protested. "It will cleave those pathetic pirates in two, or I will die trying."

The other person's voice is muffled. Your voice was loud enough to echo own the hallway. Simon couldn’t help but wonder how long you’ve been at sea for. Some say it has been almost eleven years. But that couldn’t be right. It would mean you were sixteen when you started Pirate hunting. 

“Did you hear that Price? Eleven years. What does eleven years sound to you if they were spent at sea the entire time?” Gaz asked Price. 

“Either a living legend or a madwoman.” John answered.

“Possibly both.” Simon interjected. 

When Price had the misfortune timing of coming across you in person a second time. Your face, had a sickening, twisted Cheshire grin painted across your face. The two sword slicing through pirates like a hot knife through butter. Slicing and cutting them down to size. 

It was, by the lord above, it was enjoyment on your face. Unhinged joy radiating as you continued to cut them down. 

Then a loud sound came from your throat. 

Your war cry sounded like a siren's song to your crew, a battle hymn echoing  through the port as you led them further into the fray. 

These pirates had no idea what was coming for them, who was coming for them, but the four shadows lurking in the alleyways certainly did. Watching with a mix of horror and fascination as you and your loyal band of warriors descended upon the marauders like the wrath of Neptune's own hand.

You weren't just a killer; you were a strategist. Knowing what how to strip things down fast enough to leave someone with nothing to work with. It’s a system you are familiar with. A system you crafted your own purposes.

The stragglers were picked off by your archers. As the fight quickly came to an end. 

“Look, take a real good look. The defiant cannibalises other ships as it is MEANT to be. To devour, to eat, to survive. And we do it well. She does it well.”

Price couldn't help but begrudgingly admit you had a point. The way your crew moved with precision, stripping the enemy vessels of their resources, was surgical. It is adamantly clear the Defiant is more than just a ship to you; it is a living, breathing entity you had tamed and turned into a weapon of war.

“Awful thing for morally minded people, to be sure.” you stated. “But sharks eat, lurk, move around, they don't stand idle because they're pretty or have a fancy title. They survive.”

“And you know what we do? SURVIVE.”

Perhaps it was the time Johnny seduced you into walking to their home in person a third time, whispering honeyed words into your ears like he knew what you were capable without really knowing what kind of person you are.

“You and your questions. I love them. Please tell me you have more.” you answered, taping the tips of your fingers together.

Price gripped the pommel of his sword upon hearing your voice coming through the front door. As his lover, their lover Duke John MacTavish, made his blatant seduction attempt in front of him, Duke Kyle Garrick and Duke Simon Riley. Their anger thrown towards you, as if you should have known better, despite not knowing he was spoken for already. How could you have known that? 

You tapped the tips of your fingers together nervously. “I will take my leave. My deepest apologies, your grace.” you were a rank higher. Tipsy sure. But you weren’t going to stay in a den full of lions. 

Simon blocked your exit, leaving your heart beating fast like a rabbit running from its predator. As the adrenaline building up inside, finally kicking in. “Goin somewhere luvie?” he asked. 

Price placed a hand on your shoulder, you were certain you were going to die right then and there. Was it the way your hair had crimson red flowers woven into your loose braid? Was it the matching teardrop earrings in your ears? 

“Your grace, if I may.” you said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. As if you were willing your courage to come back to you. 

“You may not.” Price uttered into your ear, guiding you back into the depths of the room again. “As you might observe, your... reputation has indeed found its way to us. Yet, it is our friend Johnny, who, possessing a certain flair for eloquence, appears to have made no small impression upon your good self as well.”

“I can always find someone else.” you protested. Meekly. 

“But why would you need to? Why would you even want to?” Price cooed into your ear. “You have four willing men at your service.”

[matchamilkislover]

White Horse, 1. (a.a.)

pairing: knight!abby x princess!reader

cw: fantasy!au, fem!reader, eventual displays of fighting and violence bc it’s fantasy, kind of slow burn?, tension, reader has an attitude, tall af!abby bc size difference, royalty!au, mentions of arranged marriages, some mentions of au politics, abby in armor is a warning in itself

synopsis: you are the youngest princess of the royal family that rules over your kingdom, Aphrynia. now a young adult, you’ve come of age in a tense time, and your personal protection is of utmost importance — which is why the resignation of your previous personal knight means a rushed reassignment ceremony with little to no preface. That being said, why does the name of your new knight sound so familiar?

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is gonna be so trope-heavy and romantic and cheesy and i don’t even care i’ve been giggling and kicking my feet this whole time

⊹ ⋆｡˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆｡˚

“Princess, you really do need to get up.”

You groaned, rolling over in your excessively comfortable bed as your lady’s maid, Nina, started forcefully pulling the many blankets you had covering you off. Your proper mind knew that she was right, that you needed to get ready, but the pounding in your head begged otherwise; and right now, the pounding side was winning. You tried to sit up and open your eyes, but the bright sunlight instantly blinded you, causing you to groan and fall back again. Nina sighed.

“Either you get up, or I’m calling George and he can drag you out himself.”

That made you sit up. You’d had enough of your second eldest brother ripping you out of bed throughout your childhood to last a lifetime. Your legs already felt a phantom soreness at just the thought.

“Okay, okay, I surrender, I’m up…” you grumbled, swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress and tenderly standing on the cold floor. Nina rolled her eyes as she started gathering materials for you to bathe.

“I told you to ease up on the wine last night,” she scolded as you started shedding your nightclothes and trudged to your washroom.

You rolled your eyes in response and yawned. “Don’t judge me! You would let loose a little too if you knew it was your last night before getting assigned another overbearing knight,” you replied dramatically. These were the times that you both loved and resented that you and Nina had known each other since childhood; sometimes she knew you a little too well. Nina just chuckled and followed you.

A while later, you were clean and dry. And cold. You shivered as Nina helped you slip layer after layer of your intricate clothing on your body. “Why is it so frigid in here this morning? I can literally hear the fire going,” you whined as another shiver made your arms shake. Nina shrugged as she picked up another layer.

“The mornings have been getting colder lately,” Nina remarked thoughtfully. “Perhaps an off the shoulder dress wasn’t the best decision the seamstress could’ve made for today’s gown.” She grimaced as she eyed the off the shoulder masterpiece waiting to be adorned.

Your pout spoke for you. Even so, you had to admit the gown was rather lovely. The gauzy pink seemed to shimmer in the light, and you couldn’t help but stare at it in the mirror once you had finally put it on. Nina, however, still anxiously watched the time and rushed to finish getting you ready.

For whatever reason, one you weren’t exactly keen on understanding, being assigned a personal knight was something of a ceremony in the royal family, and was therefore to be treated as such. And ever since your former knight, Mattheo, had resigned not even a fortnight ago to wed and begin a life outside of his knighthood, you had been assigned a rotation of lower knights while a replacement was decided on. While you couldn’t blame Mattheo for wanting to have a different life and a family, you couldn’t help but resent his leaving just a little bit; he had been your personal knight since you were young, and you had grown to trust him like an uncle or a father. Whatever young, overconfident knight you would be assigned now would not be nearly as tolerable, of that you were certain.

Nina’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and reawakened the pounding in your head. “Princess? Princess, we’ve got to go,” she harped, placing a guiding hand on your back. “Wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting.” You nodded in agreement and started walking, trying your best to hide the grimace pulling at your face.

You could barely keep up with Nina’s quick steps as you navigated the corridors of the palace, your shoes clicking on the polished stone floors. “Nina,” you muttered through panting breaths, “You know you can slow down a little bit, right? It really isn’t that serious,” you pointed out. Nina shook her head.

“Sorry, princess, but I’m under strict orders to get you there on time. Promised the queen,” she replied with a wink sent your way. Your mouth gaped while your brows furrowed.

“Seriously? For a knight assignment? The fuck…” you muttered back, still grumpy from your hangover and unending headache. Nina clicked her tongue at you in disapproval.

“Princess! Language!” she scolded, holding back a giggle and not quite managing to suppress a tickled smile. You made an amused face in response and you both had to struggle to hold down your laughs as you passed knights and members of the court in the long corridors.

As you finally turned onto the corridor leading to the throne room, Nina cleared her throat to get your attention. “Please try your best not to seem hungover, princess,” she muttered through clenched teeth, “lest the queen come for my head.” You both stifled one last giggle before the doors to the throne room opened, and your arrival was announced to the small crowd standing inside.

You took a steadying breath, blanking your face as you delicately walked forward, desperately hiding your fight not to wobble in these godforsaken shoes. You kept your gaze steady on the front of the room, not wanting to risk an offhand glance at the crowd interrupting your focus.

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief when you reached the front and stood in place amongst your siblings, ignoring George’s knowing smirk and Elyssa’s disapproving look. Like always, your eldest brother, Philip, stayed as stone-faced as ever, and Henry, the fourth sibling, gave his best attempt at matching Philip’s ever-serious mood. Although he was closest to you in age, only being 18 months older, the two of you couldn’t be more different. He never seemed to possess the itch for mischief and adventure that you did, and instead followed your eldest brother like a puppy and tried to copy his every trait. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes and turned towards the rest of the room.

Glancing at you to acknowledge your arrival, your parents rose as one, and your mother’s voice rang out in the spacious throne room. “Welcome, esteemed guests and friends, as we conduct our youngest daughter’s knight reassignment ceremony on this lovely morning. As many of us know, our youngest has quite the…lively spirit, and as she reaches marrying age, we’ve found it impertinent that we find a unique knight to ensure her safety amidst the happenings of that lively spirit.” A soft chuckle carried through the room, and you had to suppress another eye roll as your mother – the “ever-esteemed” queen – basically called you a burden who needed watching. Great. Exactly what you needed this morning.

Your mother continued her speech. “While the knight we’ve chosen for her assignment may not have the age to match her rank, her experience and accomplishments make her quite the perfect match to guard our lovely daughter. Thus, Knight Anderson, will you please approach?”

Your mind came to a sudden stop. ‘Her’? Your new knight was to be a female knight? Well that certainly makes things more interesting. And her name…Anderson. It sounded oddly familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. A young female knight, a respected, high-ranking one at that, was to be Mattheo’s replacement? Certainly she wouldn’t be quite as easy to slip past. But you had gotten creative over the years…

Your racing thoughts mixed with your eyes searching the crowd for this ‘Knight Anderson’, but came to a sudden halt when the knight finally stepped through to the front of the crowd, and the sight of her left your mouth hanging ever so slightly ajar. Although it had certainly matured since the last time you saw her, you would recognize that face anywhere.

9 YEARS AGO

Abigail Anderson was going to be the death of you. No matter where you went, she was somehow there, ready to show off and drive you up the fucking wall. Since her father was the royal family’s physician and a childhood friend of your father, and the two of you were so close in age, the two of you had been shoved together since you could read, and you couldn’t resent it more. She never failed to take an opportunity to prove herself against you; whether it was her intelligence in tutoring sessions, or showing off her strength and size outdoors while exploring or riding, if the chance was there, she took it.

You were both twelve, and while you were able to spend more time apart, tutoring and riding lessons were still spent together. You had started spending your free time with the daughters of the court members, while Abby spent her time training for knighthood or whatever it was that motivated her to sweat in a dirty training ground for hours a day. It wasn’t like you paid it too much regard; you were perfectly happy spending tea with your friends that you could actually relate to before retreating to the palace library to spend afternoons reading and exploring different worlds.

On one sunny spring day, Abby had shown up late to your joint riding lesson, and you were already annoyed since George had ruined your favorite riding boots by dropping them in a boiling, soapy wash basin while the maids weren’t looking, only for them to be found hours later and sorrowfully returned to your chambers. The twat. So when she came jogging up to the stables, your glare was already set upon her, and she preemptively rolled her eyes.

“I know, I know, training went over,” she retorted to your glare in an annoyed voice, raising her hands apologetically at your instructor.

You continued glaring as she saddled her horse and mounted the steed, flipping her braid behind her shoulder. Sensing the tension and not wanting to be a part of it, the instructor casually instructed the two of you to take a simple ride through the naturalistic grounds surrounding the palace during your normal lesson time. You nodded curtly and took off in a simple trot, Abby quickly following and settling into a matching trot beside you.

“Heard about what happened to your boots,” she remarked casually, not even glancing your way. But you knew what she was doing, and you already weren’t in the mood for it. She kept pushing anyway.

“What a waste,” she continued, clicking her tongue. “You poor thing, how will you ever survive?” You could feel her smirk without looking. Trying to be the bigger person, you only sighed and kept ignoring her.

She laughed. “What, don’t want to admit that you’re upset over a pair of boots? It’s okay, you are a princess, after all.” Even though she was right, it wasn’t like you wanted to admit it to Abby, of all people. You really liked those boots! Princess or not, you were allowed to be upset about it! You could say that, but it’s not like Abby would care. She’d just keep teasing you about the boots, or poking you about some other stupid thing that was sure to push your buttons. So you kept your head straight forward and kept riding. She wasn’t satisfied.

“Too good to talk to me now, are you? You’d rather be at a prissy tea party with your prissy friends?” she said, mocking a posh accent and expression as she spoke. And you just snapped.

“You know what Abby, just because you don’t like me or think I’m shallow or spoiled for whatever reason, that doesn’t mean you have to go after my friends too! You don’t even know them! You know, I don’t think you even know me like you think you do, so why don’t you just shut up already,” you exploded, taking off on your horse like a bullet and leaving Abby shouting after you in the dust. You heard her call your name after you a few times, but you ignored her, clenching your teeth as your resolve hardened and you quickened your pace even more.

By the time Abby started galloping after you, you were too far ahead to hear her. You just kept riding and riding, not stopping until you reached the creek that bubbled along one of the far edges of the palace grounds. Hopping off your horse, you gently smoothed the mare’s chestnut hair as you watched the clear water run up and over the rocks in the creek. Remembering what Abby had said, you clenched your other fist and loudly groaned in frustration, holding back the urge to go as far as to stomp on the ground.

You took a deep breath to steel yourself as you heard hooves approaching quickly from behind you. Abby called your name again, but you barely even turned your head, fist still clenched. She scoffed and dismounted, walking up to you casually.

“You know you can’t ride off like that,” she remarked. You continued to ignore her. “C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” she continued, leaning to try to get in your line of sight.

You only scoffed in reply and turned away, speed walking along the creek bed. Abby kept following you, reaching out to grab your arm once she was close enough. You gasped angrily and whipped around, hair slinging from side to side. You tried to pull away, but her grip was tight. And you panicked. No one had ever grabbed you like that, and you were so shocked, you couldn’t help but go into panic mode.

“Will you– let go– get your hands OFF of me–” you shrieked, starting to flail and struggle in her grasp. Abby also began to panic in response to you, and before you knew it, you were slipping on the creek bed, and the two of you tumbled into the creek, a tangle of limbs and shocked exclamations as you fell into the surprisingly icy water.

As soon as you hit the water, you gasped, inhaling water instead of air and immediately choking. You floundered, desperately coughing and trying to eject the water from your lungs. Finally, your flailing arms found a large rock to land on, and you started pulling yourself out of the water. At the same time, you could hear Abby climbing the water as well, and you got distracted, your hand slipping as you crashed back down into the creek. Another breath of water infiltrated your mouth and throat, and you continued to choke and cough, unable to gain enough footing to grab back onto the rock. Finally, a pair of stronger arms latched onto your own, stopping your flailing to pull you out of the water and onto the creek bed.

Flopping onto the ground, you coughed out the remaining water from your lungs until you could finally take clear breaths, anger returning with the consistent oxygen. You shot up suddenly, cutting Abby off as she opened her mouth to ask if you were okay. “You are despicable, Abby Anderson! Despicable!” You shouted as you pushed hair out of your face and straightened your soaking clothes. “I am leaving. You need to give me time to return my horse and escort myself inside, lest I see your despicable face and decide to strangle you once and for all!” You continued as you mounted your horse, giving her one last dirty look before riding off as fast as you could.

It wasn’t until the next morning when Abby wasn’t present at your lessons that you discovered that she had left for official training. And no matter how angry you were at her, you couldn’t help but be at least a bit disappointed that she hadn’t said goodbye.

THE PRESENT

Your mother’s voice was all but muted background in your head as you watched Abby – apparently now known as ‘Knight Anderson’ – approach you and your family at the front of the throne room. A lump settled in your throat, and your mouth felt impossibly dry watching her armored form get closer and closer. You barely registered your mother reciting practiced phrases as Abby knelt in front of her and bowed her head towards the queen. It was like you were outside your body, watching everything happen, only an observer as Abby stood and she and your mother approached you. You were sucked back into your body as Abby knelt in front of you, taking one of your polished hands in hers and bowing her head towards it.

“Knight Abigail Anderson,” your mother began, her voice confident and steady in contrast to the nerves that rocked your body, leaving you lightheaded. “Do you solemnly vow to dedicate your life to the protection and safety of the princess?” Abby looked up at you through her lashes, and you felt like you could faint.

“I do.”

[pentrologram]

advent calendar - day eighteen

You like the high kingdom, you think.

royalty!john price/civilian!reader

a/n; honestly i'm starting to think that some of these should be extended further since i'm not really doing them justice with my 600< philosophy rn lolll;; i really like this idea for a small fic but i gen just don't have the time rn. big dramatic sigh. part one is here (recommended!!)

John Price pays for your fare to the high kingdom that summer.

He doesn't send any more correspondence after the snippy letter he wrote in the winter, the latest letter you received from John's seneschal, who was notably a lot less warm than John.

You had debated the integrity of getting on a mysterious carriage and leaving your family—all you knew—behind for a man you hadn't seen since you were eight. Or ten. At this point, it was blurry. Despite all your self-preservation, you said goodbye to your family and loaded your trunk of belongings into the fancy, royal carriage that came to collect you.

The ride there was beautiful. The farthest you'd ever been from home was an hour's horse ride, and you were well past that point now, just staring out the carriage's window at passing mountains, streams and flowering trees. The kingdom eventually comes into view, and the sight makes you gasp- it's dazzling, all glass and gold and glitz, the castle standing proudly in the middle of a moat that flowed freely into the ocean below the bridge you were riding over.

You felt five shades too grey when you were helped out of the carriage, only in the plain white shirt and trousers you wore all the time. The people that live in the city surrounding the castle- aristocrats, you think- are wearing pastels that reflect the summer light around the stained glass floors, making bouncy reflections everywhere.

As you're escorted into the castle, you see groomed, fluffy dogs- nothing like the herders the neighbours had, even they seemed to walk with more purpose- and stalls selling little lemon cakes and even a whole shop dedicated to selling spoons. The sight makes you giggle and you wonder what your moms would think.

You think the castle is a lot more beautiful on the inside. You don't get to take in a lot of it since you're being escorted through, not toured, but what you see is still beautiful. Portraits of all the heirs, including John's parents, their faces dimly familiar, memories of them feeding you cheese and bread bubbling up to the forefront of your mind.

Eventually, you're led through large double doors, revealing the man himself; John Price. He's grown up a lot, you think to yourself in wonder. At least six feet tall with bulk on his bones, and a rather dashing beard, too. He's pouring over a strategy table with a similarly large man wearing some sort of face covering, and they both look up when you and your entourage enter. John straightens out, claps the other man on the shoulder, and comes forward.

And- wow. He's grown up a lot. You can only hope that you've aged as well as he has, your hands toughened from working with hot temperatures and sharp knives, wrinkles on your forehead from squinting into ovens for too long. He, on the other hand, has smile lines and a careful look to him, lips pressed in a line as he appraises you, and you realize that you've forgotten-

"Oh, um, hello." Stupid. Crap. You're not built for this. What else do you say to the King? Do you bow? Would that be weird? Would not bowing be weirder? It seems to be the right move, though, because you watch with rapt attention as his smile lines crease and his mouth turns up in a sincere smile.

"Hello. We've things to discuss, don't we?"

[verianal]

Knight!Dan sketch cuz i was bored lol (again actual full piece coming soon :3 !!)

also i just realised u can barely see the whiskers on his chest TT uhm whatever

[midnightfire830]

“Hurry up! We gotta go! The guards’ll be here any minute!!”

My boy couldn’t go without leaving a note! He’s and idiot, but he’s not THAT much of an idiot!!!

I probably went overboard on the background and lighting. Welp. What else is new…

🤦🏻

Let me know! Do we like this style of story telling? Making single panel drawings of the various events in the storyline? (Idk what else to call that style tho TWT)

[m3ntal-hiatus]

pirate!remus and prince!sirius, save me

save me, pirate!remus and prince!sirius

[shuastar]

been reading webtoons recently...

i have a archduke!mingyu x neighboring nation's princess!reader story swirling around in my mind

[gotsichireads]

'til kingdom come by mondeblue

Fandom: Seventeen Main Pairing: Mingyu / Wonwoo (MinWon) Rating: Mature Words: ~61k TW: themes of war, trauma

“May I remind you that we are in the royal councilroom,” Wonwoo grits out. “Your behavior is highly inappropriate.” Mingyu dips into a mockingly exaggerated bow. “Apologies,” he says, looking up at Wonwoo through his eyelashes. “In the future, I’ll try to only flirt with you outside of this room.” (or: Wonwoo is the eldest son of a prestigious noble family, his life set out for him with exacting precision. Mingyu carries the weight of a disgraced name and the bitterness of being cast aside. Slowly, he makes Wonwoo question everything he thought he knew.)

I normally only prefer royalty au where an arranged marriage is somehow central to the plot. This does not have that but my oh my is it beautiful. The writing is impeccable, written in a way that immerses you in the historical aspect of it. Wonwoo and his struggles with his responsibility of a nobleman navigating an unstable political climate that challenges his capabilities is such an interesting perspective. It also helps that Mingyu is such a complex antagonist. Ah. It's just such a good read. And i haven't even started talking about the love story. It's just such a beautiful story. You will just have to read it to understand my ramblings.

Link: ao3

[diamondzoey]

*Crashes through the roof* more questions and scenarios part who knows!

1. If your bug was in a horror game, which one would it be and would they survive?

2. If your bug was bird folk what kind of bird would they be?

3. Royalty! AU

Do they know how to fight?

4. Scenarios #1 (baby bugs and modern Au!)

Your bug was talking to another bug in the kitchen and hears a voice and sees Asher

Asher: hey bug name look what big sis got me! *Shows a purple cat plushie with a big grin on its face*

Your bug: Cool but what is it?

Asher who has a smile on his face: It’s a character from a animated series called smiling critters and this cat is catnap and when you pull his tail, he releases a lavender mist!

Asher pulls the tail but instead purple mist coming out it’s red mist and when that happened your bug and Asher looks confused

One of bugs decided to text jemma about the plushie

-text-

One of the bugs- hey jemma did you give Asher a catnap plushie

Jemma- what are talking about?,I never got him a catnap plushie

After that one of the bugs tells your bug about what Jemma said in the text

How would they react or say?

5. If the bugs were to go bowling who would win?

6. Scenarios #2

Your bug was doing something and hears a door and opens the door and sees a small pink ball

Bug name: What the-

Kirby: poyo!

Bug name, who’s confused: am I dreaming?

Kirby looks a sword and uses it’s copying abilities and to suck the sword into it mouth and than a sword appears in its hand: Poyo!

Bug name:…..

7. If the bugs were a smash tournament who would win?

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia

@redacted @wilderrorcard @puffin-smoke @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @headstrashdump

@lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @itsargyle @not-5-rats @astralbulldragon13

@ccstiles @fruity0salad @takashishihoin @megapugman

@reefhastoomanyaccs @kaydenskiwi @greaysharkboi

[sarahsmi13s]

Based off of previous conversations… I have a request, a Royal Christmas with Rhett Abbott. No pressure on the royal part but I think we need Royal Rhett AUs.

hehehe, i love this so much, we need more Prince!Rhett 🥰

|| a royal winter waltz ||

it's a dance, cowboy, spin me like a princess

Prince Rhett was well known for his cowboy cassanova personality. He would show up to parties alone and leave with a girl on his arm. Until now. You had been Amy's nanny for almost a year now, ever since Rebecca's disappearance you had watched the youngest Abbott. Rhett knew you, you had gone to school together, but you had changed multitudes since you graduated. And he couldn't resist. So, that how you ended up walking into the event hall attatched to Rhett's hip. You had gone to these things before, but it was mainly to keep an eye on Amy. This time, you were there as a date and you weren't going to pass up on having fun. Rhett wasn't much of a dancer, but you weren't going to let that slide. "You're dancing, because this is a dance." "I don't dance darlin'." "You said I was different than you're hook ups. You don't dance with your hook ups. So get up and spin me around to show these girls that you're serious about me."

okay so i know this was really a request for my 500 holiday/winter celly, but it's the last one i have with an ask attached. so it's getting roped in (i do have 3 bonuses to do though so be looking out for those)

but thank you peas for coming in for this! and i may or may not have a series cooking up in my brain now! and thank you @lewmagoo for helping to inspire our conversation with this post!

you can find all of the moodboard for this celebration here! -> unwrap us!!

[ginnyw-potter-archive]

Chapter 48/50: A Change of Plans

As much as Harry wanted to avoid another conflict, he had to accept that it was going to happen either way. Rodolphus was never going to relent. It felt much safer to stay cooped inside the castle with his little family he finally had and cherished, but that was just an illusion. If he truly wanted safety, if he wanted James to grow up in a safer place, he was going to have to face the enemy. The weeks after the attack on the Harpian castle, Ginny and him had many conversations about it in the evenings. Following her thoughts helped him understand her own approach, and the necessity for a battle. By the time they travelled to Harpia to discuss a potential battle together with all the allies, Ginny and Harry had agreed on Henrosia’s stance on the matter.

Full chapter: AO3/FFN

[verianal]

ﾟ+o｡◈｡o+ﾟ+o｡◈｡o+ﾟ+o｡◈｡o+ﾟ+o｡◈｡o+ﾟ+o｡◈｡

When Life; the game gets too serious 😬 if only Phil actually knew how to tame those dragons :/

also yes I am continuing the dead Phil legacy of tumblr what about it >:P

ALT VERISON: CW: bl00d

[ruewrites]

Devotion

AO3

Ship: Diavolo/Lucifer

Word Count: 3250

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Some people had wanted to see Lucifer and Diavolo's honeymoon and oops more story progressed from there. I hope you all enjoy! Comments are appreciated <3

Summary:

Devotion: 1.love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause. 2.religious worship or observance.

Sometimes in this life, others are more devoted to us than we can comprehend.

Lucifer sat on the bed with a sigh. Slowly, he slipped his silky gloves off of his hands and kicked his shoes off his feet. The affairs of today had been a grand one, doves as far as the eye could see, a cake crafted by Barbatos big enough to feed an army trimmed with gold and black flowers. Asmodeus had been chittering away with him every free moment he could squeeze himself in, eyes sparkling at every romantic aspect he could pin down and sprinkling in his own fantasies of what a wedding could be like.

"I could only imagine what this would be like," Asmo had said, "I can't wait."

Exhausting was the only word that came to mind for Lucifer.

It was mostly for show, a way to introduce the future co-rulers and gain them favor with the public. Over all, it was mainly a way in which the royal family could keep their favor with the people. A wedding was no more than a spectacle.

And yet-

A deep groan left Lucifer's lips as firm hands made their way to his shoulders, kneading away at the tense muscles beneath. He leaned back into the ministrations, allowing his eyes to slip shut. 

"How are you feeling love?" The words were ended in a soft kiss to his neck that made Lucifer shudder. Diavolo's voice was low, soft, and warm like a thunderstorm rumbling in the distance on a summer evening. 

Lucifer glanced down at the ring on his finger, appreciating the way it glistened when the light hit its surface. Without a word, one of Diavolo's hands traveled across his arm and to his hand. Carefully, he lifted the ring to his own lips and kissed it softly. 

This made Lucifer give in the rest of the way, leaning into Diavolo fully and allowing his body to be enveloped by the warmth.  Both of them continued to move backwards until they were staring at the ceiling.  

Finally, after a moment, he let go of the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. The rest of the tension left his body. His fingers tapped against his abdomen as thoughts lingered in his mind. He knew what this was supposed to be for and yet-

“Happy to finally be alone and away from the commotion, but I suppose we still have a duty to keep.” 

It was his way of attempting humor. Lucifer was more than aware that nothing would force him to couple with Diavolo, especially not Diavolo himself.

"So," Diavolo started, glancing over at him, "Sex?"

Lucifer snorted, hand flying to cover his mouth, "There were many ways you could have worded that. That was not the most… elegant option." Consummating a marriage was important, it was symbolic. Two people coming together just as two entirely different kingdoms did. It was important, it was expected, it "sealed the deal" so to speak. 

"But what about it?" Lucifer asked.

"About what?"

"About 'so, sex'?"

Now it was Diavolo's turn to snort, "Ah I hear how it sounds now."  He turned his head to look at Lucifer, his fingers started to drum as he spoke, adding to the illusion of that perfect summer storm.

"What do you think about it? About the moment now?"

The truth? Lucifer was starting to feel uncomfortable in his wedding attire as the storm inched closer, it was hot and muggy and made him feel rather sticky. He was waiting and watching as the clouds grew closer. 

"What do I think?" Lucifer repeated. The uncomfortable heat was pooling, concentrating in a single area. 

The surprised look on Diavolo's face was definitely worth a thousand kingdoms' treasuries. Lucifer straddled his waist, strong thighs gripped his waist as he sat proud atop the man beneath him.  He shifted, making himself comfortable, "I think I need to see how desperately you want me, why you begged and stood determined to be by my side."

He watched as Diavolo's mouth dried, as want filled his eyes. His hands hesitantly moved to Lucifer's hips, trembling as he did so. The storm was upon them now, hot and heavy in the air. It was getting hard to breathe.

"Up," Lucifer commanded, and Diavolo followed, sitting up and pulling Lucifer even closer to his chest.

"Good boy," Lucifer purred, stroking along the side of Diavolo's face, watching as the man leaned into the touch, "You want me."

"I crave you," Diavolo corrected him quickly, "Ever since the first night you allowed me to touch you, and even before that. We have had many firsts together, and I am honored by your trust in every single one."

Lucifer's eyes softened, and his heart melted as the first patters of rain fell. He leaned in, kissing his husband to communicate what words failed to. Diavolo moaned beneath him as the Arcadian Crowned Prince ground against him. His growing need was evident, and Lucifer was growing feverish. Ripping away Diavolo's shirt became his first priority. They could deal with the rest later. Clothes hid secrets well, and very often Lucifer found himself at odds with his secrets. Does he share them or not? What were the consequences of letting his resolve, his masks, slip?

Disrobing meant leaving himself vulnerable.

But with Diavolo he was allowed to be vulnerable.

He waited with bated breath as Diavolo looked over his body. It was far from pristine and perfect like the prince had most likely imagined. A litany of scars marked him in places and the most prominent ones were on his back. He watched as those large fingers hesitantly reached out, and when Lucifer didn't pull away, he started to trace them.

"It's not everything you expected-" 

"You're beautiful," Diavolo's voice was filled with nothing but reverence, "I have never seen you without your shirt off. Thank you for sharing this with me."

Allowing himself a moment to bask in the attention, Lucifer allowed himself to focus on how Diavolo touched him. How his body reacted to each gentle ministration. Then something glittering caught his eye. 

Diavolo let out a groan as Lucifer yanked on the pretty golden barbell piercing through his nipple. "I've had my eye on these for a while now. Tell me Prince, do you like it when I touch you like this?"

"Hells Lucifer," he was breathless,"What are you doing to me?" 

"Taking control, especially now that I can touch more than your cock in secret." 

Quiet nights holding his hand over the prince's mouth as he stroked or fingered him to completion in defiance of his father. There was no better form of resistance than finding sneaking ways to get around the rules. And there was no better reward than seeing the way his at the time fiance had looked at him.

In Diavolo's eyes he was truly the most beautiful creature. 

The storm was amping up now. He pushed Diavolo back. The arched form of his aching manhood was pressed against his rear, desperate and wanting. Maintaining eye contact, Lucifer leaned down. The taste of metal coated his tongue as he worked. A large hand entangled itself in his hair, encouraging him to go further. His hand played with the other side of his chest. Diavolo continued to groan above him, another hand moved down his back and Lucifer stilled. 

"May I open you?" Diavolo asked.

Lucifer straightened. He had to keep the illusion of control. He was aware something inside of him was broken. He always had an illusion of control, but it was never something he could actually possess. It always evaded his grip. Playing a part was his job, his role was to be the Crown Prince of Arcadia, nothing more than a puppet on a string. Diavolo cut those strings, or began to, and he understood how fragile and delicate they were.

“Only if I give you permission.”

He nodded.

“And I can take it away at any time.”

Another nod, “You are the one in control of yourself, just as you always are. ”

Reaching behind him, Lucifer grabbed Diavolo's aching member. His husband arched letting out a low rumble in his chest, "And you are positive you won't mind?  No matter what my decision?"

"As long as you are in throes of pleasure or content I don't mind."

Lucifer thought for a moment, then his mind seemed to be made up. He settled back down into the act he was comfortable in, the act they both knew gave him the power and control he felt like he lacked. “Alright then,” he whispered, “Go ahead.”

Eagerly, Diavolo grabbed for a small jar next to the night stand before passing it off to Lucifer. As he poured some on his own hand, he  couldn’t help but focus on how warm it was and how slick it felt on his skin. His nerves struck him in that moment, and he considered retracting the consent he had given, but then those gentle hands changed his mind. The first finger slipped into him without issue. He hissed, eyes closed and brow furrowed. When the second was added was when the noises started. They were muffled and short, trapped behind pursed lips and gritted teeth. He reached behind himself and grabbed onto his husband’s cock, initially gripping it tighter than what he meant to. His hands shook and his body shuddered. When Diavolo stuck a certain spot inside of him was when he lost his resolve. The moan that escaped him was not a noise he thought himself capable of making. 

His grip released the weeping member and went for Diavolo’s wrist instead, “That’s enough.”

Diavolo watched him curiously as his fingers were removed. Lucifer lifted himself, and with as much poise and grace as he could muster, impaled himself on his husband. Diavolo was a large man, he knew this to be true, but it quickly resurfaced in his memory as he struggled to bottom out. The fullness he felt was almost too much, almost. 

Diavolo went to speak, but Lucifer held up a hand to stop him. Then he moved. Diavolo’s hands flew to Lucifer’s hips and those golden eyes were fixed upon him, “Lucifer-”

“Do you feel good?”

“Incredibly so.”

“Am I better than anything you’ve had before?”

“You’re the only thing I want. I am honored to touch you.”

His voice flattered and his hips stuttered as he tried to meet Lucifer, but the Crowned Prince had other ideas, “You’re being so good for me right now, and good boys get rewarded. Tell me, what would you like?”

There wasn’t a single sliver of hesitation from Diavolo, “I would like to make love to you.”

Lucifer’s brain stilled. Make love to him?

Diavolo had been a bit of a romantic ever since they’d met and even before that, but the answer still caught him off guard. It hadn’t been what he’d been expecting. The words ‘to cum’ were the first that came to mind. That was usually what he was aiming for during their more private sessions.

Diavolo sat up, it changed the angle and coaxed another sigh from Lucifer’s lips. 

“Would that be quite alright?”

Lucifer studied his face, used his fingers to gently trace along Diavolo’s cheekbones and lips. The storm inside of him was quelling and in its place, a gentle shower. He didn’t say a word, rather, he let their lips meet once more in a gentle embrace. It was trust, it was openness, it was a sense of home.

All of it came together, a result of an act of devotion.

When they pulled apart he nodded, and he found himself being moved to his back. Diavolo’s thrusts were consistent, gentle yet powerful. Lucifer had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on his back. He didn’t want to break eye contact with him. Each movement continued to coax gaspy grunts and sighs of pleasure from his lips. This was good. He liked this.

“I would do anything for you, you know,” Diavolo whispered, “Should entire kingdoms turn against you, I would remain by your side. I would put myself before any danger in your name. My dying breath is for you.”

Something about this scared a part of him.

Words carried so much, especially words spoken into existence. He held Diavolo tighter, “Don’t make a fool’s promise.”

“I would never do such a thing.”

Lucifer could feel his eyes wetten, his breathing quickened, and with it the heat coiling in his stomach. 

Right before the edge, Diavolo pressed their mouths together.

Lucifer had never seen stars quite like that.

***

"You are aware that there is nothing forcing you to be with him?" 

"Besides the union of two kingdoms?"

"You know what I mean Asmodeus."

The pair spoke quietly as they danced, Lucifer spinning the Jewel of Arcadia around, the skirts he wore flew out around him, in the most elegant ways imaginable. Asmodeus looked happy, everything about him seemed happy, but looks could be deceiving. Lucifer knew this to be true. 

Asmo was in close again, his eyes darted over Lucifer's shoulder once before the sunset met rubies once more. Lucifer struggled to find the most appropriate words, something that wouldn't be so… crass.

"You don't have to copulate with him if you don't want to," was what he finally settled on, "You have autonomy you know, laying with him is not mandatory."

No matter what anyone said.

Something faltered inside Asmo, but it was quick to disappear before Lucifer could say something about it.

"I mean, I want to," Asmo whispered, "Have you seen him? He's a total hunk. Just my type. Don't think I am any less refined but I wanted to jump him, I really did." Asmo's words became even more quiet as he reached the ending bit, as if he was worried someone would overhear. 

Why Lucifer would never understand. A part of him worried it was because he was the first man in a while to give Asmo any ounce of attention. Lucifer didn’t trust him, not entirely anyways. 

It was… also a bit more detail than Lucifer needed.

Their waltz continued, the tapping of their feet on cobblestone keeping them in time. 

Lucifer took in a breath, "You deserve the world My Jewel, I just want to make sure you know that. His duty now is to make you happy. Every waking moment should be for you, and his dying breath is for your name alone. Anything less is less than you deserve. Anything less is worthy of more than divorce. Death isn't even suitable for such an offense."

Tears pricked at the edges of Asmodeus' eyes, "Lucifer."

"That is all I have to say on the matter, my job is to make sure you enjoy the rest of the daylight now," he smiled, he wouldn't have Asmodeus for much longer, so he might as well enjoy the rest of the song, "I'm a bit rusty at dancing, wouldn't you agree?"

***

“Sit.”

“But-”

“Sit.”

Diavolo let out a soft huff, finally taking a seat on the edge of their bed. Barbatos stood behind Lucifer watching the pair with a bemused smile. Cerberus had followed suit, confused by the command, but eager to follow it nonetheless. Lucifer pinched his brows together, collecting his thoughts before letting out a sigh. 

“You are still in recovery, therefore you are to be resting and allowing yourself to recover.”

“But it has been ages since I’ve picked you up and held you in my arms!” his voice was bordering on whining. He reached for Lucifer pulling him forward, just short of into Diavolo’s lap. “Is it suddenly a crime to wish to display my devotion and affection to you?”

“You know that is not true.”

Diavolo plopped  back onto the bed with an arm covering his eyes as he began his lament, “My darling husband no longer adores me. He is but a mean man, a mean mean man.” He peaked out from underneath his arm, a smirk on his face, “But oh do I love it when he is mean.” 

His voice had dropped an octave. It was suggestive, playful. 

Hands on his hips Lucifer wandered closer. Leaning over Diavolo he put one hand next to his head, “You know I am not mean. I simply take control, and you like when I tell you what to do, do you not?”

Diavolo hummed in response, eyes hooded. 

“So you will rest for me, yes? Then we can play together.”

Instead of a response, Lucifer received a quick smack to his ass. Well, he supposed that was what he deserved for letting his guard down around his playful husband.  He yelped, falling on top of Diavolo who chuckled next to his ear.

“This means punishment, correct?”

“Whatever am I going to do with you?”

“Perhaps let me kiss you?”

“You would like that wouldn’t you?” 

He went to stand but Diavolo yanked him back down. Barbatos’ throat clearing drew their attention back to the other side of the room, “Shall I dismiss myself?” 

“Apologies Barbatos, my husband seems to have gotten a little too eager." 

Lucifer stood and righted himself taking a seat on the bed. Diavolo propped himself up on his elbows, eyes aglow, "Perhaps some tea would be in order?" 

"We just received a new spiced blend, hand picked by Queen Asmodeus himself"

Lucifer's ears perked, "Queen?"

"It seems his majesty thought it a bit more appropriate. There's a letter attached as well, I have it with me if you would like to read it."

Lucifer all but snatched the letter from Barbatos' hands much to Diavolo's amusement. 

"That blend sounds quite interesting! Prepare us some, would you Barbatos?" Once the butler bowed and left the room, Diavolo turned his attention back to Lucifer, "All good things?"

"It appears so," the pair moved from the bed to a set of ornate chairs so that Lucifer could grab his spectacles, "It appears they stopped in Estos, for a short while on their trip back to Wystyria."

"I hear it's lovely this time of year, perhaps we can stay there when we travel to visit them."

Lucifer put the letter down before taking Diavolo by the hand. He pressed a kiss to the wedding band, "After you recover a little more, then we can speak of such things."

“And when do you think that will be?”

Leaning back in his chair, Lucifer tilted his head to the side, “In time, but until then it is my duty to take care of you.”

“Personally attended to by the King of Arcadia himself? I’m honored.”

Lucifer stood from his chair and knelt by his husband’s side, “You have performed a great act for me, and now it is my turn.” Taking both of his hands, Lucifer held them tight, “Let me do this small act of devotion for you. It will be one of many, I can assure you. I am not always the gentlest man, but I am not hardened. I do this out of love, for you.”

Diavolo’s jovial form softened, and his hands melted under Lucifer’s touch, “I have heard that I am quite the unruly patient.”

“You are just you,” Lucifer smiled, “Your perseverance is one of the many things I love about you.”

“Even when it is seen as stubbornness?”

“Especially then,” Lucifer smiled, “Now, I believe we have a letter to draft over tea, especially if you wish to visit once you recover.”

[blossom-hwa]

Hello again! I was wondering if I could request a skz minho enemies to lovers au ? Thank you for sharing your work with us these past five years !!

of course you may, thanks for the request and your kind words! I hope you enjoy this!

5 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/TXT/Golden Child/Ateez/The Boyz member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

(this is a continuation of this drabble that I wrote for my 4 year anniversary - it’s not necessary for understanding this story, but if you’d like a prequel of sorts here it is!)

(update: I've written another sequel to this piece, When the Canary Stops Singing!)

REQUESTS OPEN!!

~

Title: Warning Song

Pairing: Minho x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 988

Warnings: mentions of death and injury, cursing

~

“Why did you come to warn me?”

You pause in rewrapping the bandage around your leg, one end of the white cloth pulled taut in your hand. “What?”

Minho’s eyes stare into yours, unflinchingly steady. “I asked why you came to warn me.”

You turn back to your leg and snort. “What, did you think I should’ve just left you to die?”

Silence follows your question, silence too heavy to ignore. You look at him in disbelief. “Wow, really? Just how much did you really hate me?”

“Quite a lot,” Minho replies baldly. “You were always annoying. Always in my way.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.” You tie off the end of the bandage and tuck the rest of the cloth back into your bag. “Me, always in your way? You’re being ridiculous - if anything, you were always in mine -”

“Answer the question.”

You purse your lips together, turning to fully face your oh-so-ridiculously-insufferable prince. “Your Highness, do you remember what my family’s crest is?”

“The canary.”

“Correct,” you snap. “And what do canaries do in the coal mines?”

“They sing.” Minho pauses. “Until they don’t.”

“Also correct.” You sigh. “My family has a duty to yours, Your Highness. We have always been your heralds of danger, and your protectors when needed. My parents served yours. My brother served you and your sister before...” You swallow, looking away. It isn’t fast enough to avoid watching the shadow pass across Minho’s face, though. “Anyway, whether I like it or not, protecting your family is part of my history. The fact that I think you as a person are a waste of space in this kingdom means nothing. I will sing for you, no matter what.” You clench your fist, then release it. “Until I can’t.”

For a long time, Minho doesn’t look back at you, still stays turned away. You’re in no mood to keep talking, so you don’t encourage conversation. But halfway through you reorganizing your bag, he speaks. 

“I could release you of your service,” he says quietly.

You blink once, twice. “What?”

“You shouldn’t remain bound to us by duty,” Minho continues as though he didn’t hear you, though you know he must have. “If I released you and your family, you would no longer be forced to protect us at your own expense.”

You gape at Minho, slack-jawed. “Your Highness - you do realize what you’re saying, right?”

“I do.” He stares right at you, eyes clear and steady. It still barely manages to convince you he knows what he’s speaking of. “I’m being serious.”

“Then you should stop.” You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s not - it’s not that easy. You cannot just release a family of their entire history since this dynasty began with words like that.”

“But no one should be forced to lay down their lives for someone else without reason,” Minho argues. “Least of all not someone who they think is a waste of space in this kingdom.”

Your face burns at the words he just spat back at you. “Your Highness, I spoke out of turn. I shouldn’t have -”

“My point still stands,” Minho interrupts, raising his voice above yours. “No one should be forced into this sort of service just by virtue of their heritage if they don’t believe in it -”

“It doesn’t matter!” you snap. “It doesn’t matter - this is my family. My duty! I will not put that aside for my own petty opinions about you and your personality!”

“But -”

“Stop talking!” you finally yell, anger boiling over. “My brother died for your sister. My parents died for you! Everyone is dead, I’m the only one left - if I give up on this, there is nothing left, do you understand? Nothing!” 

Silence falls flat on the ground. You turn away from the prince so he won’t see the tears burning in your eyes, threatening to roll down your face. Your brother, dead in action. Your mother and father, cut down before your very eyes. The knife plunging into your shoulder, the sword that sliced down your calf, the dark path to the castle you can barely remember, clouded by the fear that you might be too late...

It can’t be for nothing. It can’t.

“Hm.”

Internally, you groan. “Your Highness -”

“So what I’m hearing,” Minho says, cutting you off, “is that I’m just too handsome and charismatic for you to stop protecting.” A smirk crawls up his face as you stare at him, incredulous. “That I’m too wonderful to give up on, too smart and pretty and too good of a ruler -”

You open your mouth to do - something. Talk. Scream. Yell at him and slap him in the face. But as he looks at you, that obnoxious smirk curling his lips -

“What the fuck?” you gasp, hysterical laugher bubbling up your throat. “Do you even hear what you’re saying? Gods, Your Highness, this is exactly why I always hated you -”

“Thank you.”

You swallow your hysteria out of surprise. “What?”

“Thank you,” Minho repeats, low and quiet. When he meets your eyes, he actually looks serious. “For warning me. For not leaving me.” The corner of his lip curves up, just slightly. “For protecting me, even if you think I’m a waste of space.”

For several moments you just stare at him, trying to process the words he just said. When it finally twigs that he’s thanking you, you still have to blink several times before you fully understand. 

“You’re welcome,” you reply, words stilted and off-kilter even to your ears. You clear your throat, trying to gain back a semblance of normality. “And will you please let that go?”

“Never,” Minho sniffs, that annoying glint of mischief sparkling in his eye. For some reason, it’s not as maddening as you once thought before. “Not on your life.”

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Happy (late) 500 Followers!

So I meant to do this like 300 followers ago lol. But, I love all y'all so much that I did want to take the time to thank you so so so so so much for following me, reading my stories, and leaving me kind words🥰 Writing has always been my passion at baseline, but y'all make it even more fun!

My plan is, to celebrate, I'll let you guys pick what little mini story I end up writing (A Fresh Start will still be ongoing this will just be done on the side don't worry). Now, as I know that like at least 75% of my following is here for Din Djarin, this mini story was going to be focused on him. Which works out perfectly since he is on my mind all day every day lately.

Here are the choices:

Royalty!Din Djarin [set in star wars setting]: Mandalore was in the process of rebuilding and as part of the 'Resettlement and Rejuvenation' committee for once lost worlds it was your job to be onsite as the capital city of Sundari came back to life. You were a professional who was very good at her job, but the ruler of Mandalore, an odd fellow with an even more odd child, was not making your job easy.

Soulmate!Din Djarin [set in star wars setting]: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words 'I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold' adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse. Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

Firefighter!Din Djarin [set in modern world]: Din Djarin had many years of experience running into burning buildings and saving lives. But, when a job goes wrong, he finds the roles switched and a mysterious woman ends up saving his life instead. He's determined to find the woman who acted as his savior. You, on the other, would love nothing more than to avoid the firefighter you accidentally saved.

Roommates!Din Djarin [set in modern world]: You and your roommate got along incredibly well which is shocking considering you met him off craigslist. Granted, the bar was very low considering all you asked of him was that he not murder you. The two of you were close enough that favors for one another was not out of the ordinary. Sometimes he'd ask you to babysit his son for a night, and you were planning on asking him to pretend to be your fiance so you wouldn't have to face your family and ex-boyfriend alone. That was a fair trade, right?

Poll will be open for a week!