#so like royal advisors of sorts

[applestruda]

Sorry if this was asked-

In Boatem Knights au what is Martyn's role? I love the design by the way!

Thanks!

And yeah he's just the hand of the king,

[fideidefenswhore]

How do we know that COA was offered her daughter made bona fides and kept princess? When was this?

It was an offer made by Henry alongside Campeggio when he was there before the trial, that her acceptance of the offer meant the trial could be foregone ....

We (Wolsey and Campeggio) are agreed in opinion to test the mind of the Queen, and to persuade her to consent to the separation, and to enter the profession of some religion. For this purpose his Lordship promised me the assistance of himself and all the prelates of the kingdom, and the favor of the King, and that the Queen shall have any honorable conditions which she demands, retain her station as Queen*, and not lose anything except "l'uso della persona del Re," which he (Wolsey) says she has lost for many years; allowing her her dowry, rents, ornaments, and assignments for her support, and many other things; especially that the succession of the kingdom for the present shall be established in her daughter, by the ordinance and consent of all the estates, in case there should never be any legitimate male heir. 

....(although, actually I don't exactly remember, that might have just been one stage of the offer...another might have been that her absence from the trial would ensure a result in Henry's favor; as we know she refused to attend after her speech and it did not, so whether or not that was true...Campeggio had a decretal comission to declare the marriage valid or invalid at Blackfriars and didn't, so in some sense they both got played, although Catherine only in hindsight...ironically, she would later vehemently complain about the severe injustice of the delay in any resolution, but she was the one that had interceded for that delay**, demanding the case only be tried in Rome). Even her counsel at the time, before becoming as contumacious as he did (Bishop Fisher), advised her to take this 'deal', as it were. Off the cuff, I don't remember every reference made to it, Chapuys some months later does also mention (very conditional) 'offers' made to her, but the dispatch is frustratingly vague:

Meanwhile the Queen is daily assailed by people making her all manner of offers, if she will only consent to the divorce; but she remains as firm as ever [...]

In 1533 Chapuys reports Catherine as having said she was willing to take the 'offer' made to her by the King's council three years ago, that then she had thought it was a feint to induce her to accept demotion, but she would accept it now. He does not specify what this offer was, I remember I went back to the sources of when Henry's council visited and argued with her and it was not clear then, either, but I always wondered if that was what she was alluding to. If so it was too late at that point; Henry had decided that the issue of any union that contravened divine law was irrevocably illegitimate (although technically, he would not manage to garner Parliamentary assent for this notion until three years later, he only managed it by implication in 1534), and he believed that was what it was.

Often apologia of Catherine's stance in the late 1520s has been, why should she have even considered that inducement, how was it even presented as an 'offer', even if the papacy had annulled the marriage, Mary would be bona fides regardless, etc. It was presented as an offer, inducement, compromise of sorts because in England that was not the legal precedent (ie, an offer made on behalf of her daughter that was not guaranteed otherwise):

"[Henry VIII] now argued she would would be barred by illegitimacy. This contention puzzled continental contemporaries because elsewhere in western Europe those children born to couples who in good faith believed themselves validly married were treated as legitimate. Nevertheless, Henry was right. After a period of some uncertainty, by the late fourteenth century England had opted out of the bona fides principle. As Sir John Baker notes, 'succession problems were usually debated in legal terms and in accordance with the common law canons of inheritance.' A successful challenge to his marriage would thus automatically bastardise Mary and leave Henry no direct heir... [although] Mary could have been legitimated by statute." - JF Hadwin, The Journal of Ecclesiastical History

*One assumes this meant only a ceremonial title of some sort, ie Dowager Queen of England, as her sister-in-law was still referred to as Queen of France.

**Probably not anticipating resolution would not take place for another four years, but...still.

[rex3o]

Doting wife

Royal au! Sukuna x Reader

Being the emperors wife was something that you would have not expected to be in the position of. Many would think being the emperors wife, would bring in love, happiness and luxury. Yet your husband would be nothing of the sorts, yes you heard of his reputation. A cold and ruthless emperor with a thriving empire, you entered his palace with big hopes and determination of changing him to be a loving husband.

oh how wrong you was.

After 4 years of marriage and a heir to his throne, he was as cold and ruthless the day you met him. Every interaction was short or met with silence. You put effort in your duties as his wife and empress to the empire to impress him. Yet nothing. You wore his favourite colour. Nothing. You did your make up differently. Nothing. You tried talking to him about things he was interested... and nothing. He was not phased. During the birth of your son, he was nowhere to be seen only to come in the following morning and smile at the sight of his son. yet when his red eyes met yours his smile dropped.

So here you sat in the royal gardens watching your three year old son chase a butterfly with his toy sword. Letting your mind wander, you had tried everything.. what was you not doing that he hasn't even dropped a single thought on you. Your lady in waiting looked at you a bit confused as you continued to stare hardly at nothing.

"Your majesty" she says softly yet anxiously, as she looks at you while drifting her eyes to whatever thing you was staring at.

"hmm" you say.

"are you uh.. quite alright you seem to be staring at.." as she is lost for words.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at her, your eyes widening a little.

"oh apologises, I seemed to have lost myself in thought."

She exhales as she smiles at you.

"oh that is fine.. may I ask about what?"

"oh nothing.. you know.. thoughts." you say not really wanting to indulge on the countless attempts of getting your husband to even give a glance at you.

Your eyes land back on your son as you find him aggressively hitting the dead bug on the ground. Definitely his father's son. You thought. You got up from your seat as you approached your son to stop his insane antics and bring him back inside. The boy huffs and drops his toy sword and runs back inside as you followed after him, walking back inside the palace you spot Sukuna walking with several of his advisors, as they head somewhere. You do not let your eyes linger for long as you follow after where your son had ran off.

After several hours of chasing your son around the palace, you managed to catch him and get him ready for dinner. As you both head inside the dining hall, he runs and takes his space next to his father. Sukuna sat on his seat already busying himself with the food. You sit down and remain silent. How odd. You're never quiet at dinner. You ate your food only glancing at your son to see if he is eating like a proper boy and not gobbling his food like a damn animal.

Dinner goes swiftly, without a word as Sukuna finishes, you take your leave. He gives a quick glance at your figure.

The days went on, this new personality of yours. Quiet, not chatty as before. The little interactions of yours, well one sided conversations, with Sukuna went from infrequent to zero. He noticed this. As you slowly put your effort and interest into other things besides him. Sukuna would find himself at least hoping for a glance of you around the palace. Hell he would be even be satisfied by you uttering a single word at the dinner table. But no.

There you three was again at the table, silence except for your son's occasional ramble of what he did today to his father.

Sukuna bore his eyes onto you, as his son's yapping went from one ear to another. Gripping onto his utensils as he waits for your eyes to meet his, for you to utter something. Yet you sat on the opposite end eating your food finding the chandelier to be the most interesting thing you came across the whole day.

"Have we lost our manners suddenly." he blurts out annoyed.

You stop chewing as you slowly look at your husband, as if he grew a pair of wings and started to fly.

"pardon..." was the only thing you could conjure up.

"I am your husband, you are supposed to greet me, ask me how my day is.. have you forgotten your role wife?" he demands. Yet your clueless face irked him more.

".. uh- how was your day?" you ask, not knowing if you should or not. Sukuna grunts in response.

"that's more like it." Is all he says, as you remain confused for the remainder of the dinner.

Your interaction with Sukuna stuck out like sore thumb to you for the next couple of days. You did not know what to make of it. You stood silent, as the advisor chattered along on what to do for the next royal event. The advisor realising that your mind was on something else he quietened down waiting for you to speak. As you came back to reality, you looked at him confused.

"w-we can do this on another day empress if your feeling under the weather." he says anxiously. You just barked out a laugh.

"I am good, something had caught my attention, please continue." You say, as he goes continues. The door to the private meeting room swings open as Sukuna enters and makes his way next to you. The advisor taken aback looks at you if he should continue.

"Continue" Sukuna commands as the man starts his nervous ramble now more directed to Sukuna for the royal event. The meeting ends, the advisor leaves defeated as he didn't get much answers from the both of you.

This new behaviour of his continued, every day at least at one point of your day, he makes himself known and sit with you till he seems fit. He doesn't say anything some days but others he would demand you to say something, whatever it was you was doing on that day he will involve himself. Even if it was watching your son fight an imaginary dragon. But you did not back down. Yes this was entertaining watching your husband finally put some sort of an effort. So you kept this behaviour of yours up. Almost like a silent contest on who is going to break first.

As the day of the royal event dawned, you spoke to your guests, in your beautiful gown. Your presence captured everyone's attention.. even your husband. As a duke kindly asked for your hand for a dance. You took his request, as you both waltzed on the ballroom floor. As he lets you go for you to spin, you are met back with a familiar set of arms. Your eyes met your husbands crimson eyes.

You hold back your smile, as he lead you to dance. Everyone's lingering eyes drifted away, the music blending away in the back of your mind, as you both danced.

"You did not wear red.." Sukuna comments. You look back up at him.

"I have worn red too many times." You retort.

"Too many times.. even for your husband?"

All you did was shrug your shoulders, as his hand your waist tightens.

"You used to gab my ears off woman.. now your as silent as a mouse." He comments.

"And..?"

"Has my efforts not been enough.." He quietly says in your ear.

"You think, a couple weeks of you spending some time with me, making me question you is effort" you say back in disbelief.

"It is something woman" he says slightly annoyed.

You look at him, as your smile slowly fades.

"I spent the last four years, catering to your needs, acting as a good wife to you.. yet the moment I stop you suddenly remember you have a wife and start acting like somewhat of a companion-"

"companion" he says offended. "I have treated you like a husband should, I spent time with you, I spoke to you, I provided you with a palace and riches."

"oh thank you for doing the bare minimum." as you push yourself away from him and composing yourself as you walked away from the ballroom floor. Sukuna stands there as he walks off the opposite direction not wanting to make a scene in front of his guests clearly annoyed.

While the event progresses, as all he could think about was you, what you said. He watched your every move, every word you uttered to your guests, every sip you took from your glass, every hand movement. He took note of it. He did not care if people realised he was staring you down. He couldn't wrap his head around how you could even think of speaking to him like that.

Was what he did not enough? Before you would swoon if he even said a word to you. Now you did not care. You would chatter his ear off about things you assumed he would be interested in. Now silence. All your efforts now gone.

What was he not doing to get you back to being his doting little wife.

part 2

-

big FAT authors note : I cannot lie guys I am not fit for long fics but yk what I can do... make one shots so please enjoy what my mind could conjure up for 15 minutes after having 3 cups of chai. Also I may have a thing for historical au I dunno. my head is NOT working. so pls if there is any mistakes do LMK!

- R

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x princess of zamunda!reader

summary: after many years, your father has left you to sort your love life out before you have to rule the kingdom. what you didn’t expect was to find love within your father’s favourite sport.

warnings: outfit links, smau, just read 🤭 (sorry for any typos!)

saint’s team radio 🎀: listen, i love ‘coming to america’ just as much as lewis and this being a 3 am thought made me too excited to write it. enjoy it, love ya! 🫵🏽💗

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene @exotic-iris13 @motheroffae @purplelewlew @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @non-stop-imagines @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @yeea-nah @henneseyhoe @saturnville @greedyjudge2

pls like, comment and reblog!

fc: nomzamo mbatha

-

palaceofzamunda

liked by f1, mercedesamgf1 and 574,356 others

palaceofzamunda Her Majesty Princess Y/n will safely depart from Kigali, Rwanda to Montreal, Canada with the rest of the Royal Family for a motorsport event per the King’s request. We wish them safe travels!

view limited comments

f1 very excited to host the royal family this weekend!

user i hope they will treat our glorious family well as the royalty they are

user princess y/n is so gorgeous

user so glad she gets to be our next queen

user sky sports and f1 have announced their arrival and have hyped it up so much…there’s levels to this kinda thing

user craziest thing is that they never say anything about prince harry or the prince of monaco whenever they’re there 😭

user i wonder which team the king supports

user fun fact our king loves ferrari but his fav drivers are 1644 and ofc other older drivers as well

user he’s just like the rest of us fr 😝

mercedesamgf1 extremely honoured to be hosting the Royal Family of Zamunda in our garage!

user i would risk it all for Princess Y/n

user it would be iconic if Princess Y/n gets together with a driver

user girl wdym, isn’t she married?

user no she isn’t, homegirl is extremely dedicated to her work as a humanitarian and as a country, we’d be surprised if she was romantically involved with anyone 😭

user what a woman

-

“Father, were the rose bearers necessary for the trip?” You huffed out, watching as rose petals were being tossed out on the tarmac before your father stepped out on the jet’s stairs.

“You know it is tradition, my child. Now, have you gathered everything before we leave this plane?” Your dad answered, waiting for you, your mother, and your sisters to exit the plane after him.

Holding onto your carry-on, the Canadian air breezed past you as you descended from the plane’s steps and gave the media a polite wave, wanting to get to the comfort of the hotel already. Given the warmest welcome from the airport staff, you and your family safely made your way to the official cars and drove to the Four Seasons.

Upon arrival, another warm welcome was given along with a bunch of staff issued to you at your every call and you did not want to say no as they kindly offered.

Laying down on the incredibly soft bed, you appreciated the aesthetics of your suite and took photos that you knew you couldn’t share with the public due to safety reasons so that just ruined the mood so to bring it up again, you called your royal advisor/childhood friend just to update her on your journey.

“And let me guess, the media was all over you guys.” Ama chuckled through the phone. “When aren’t they ever. A lot of them were from Baba’s thing we’re going to.” You said, rolling your eyes as you recalled the flashing lights from your landing.

“Oh, the formula thing. You’ll be fine, Y/n, just remember to interact with other human beings and don’t bring up work.” Ama spoke, squinting her eyes at you. “Don’t you have faith in me? I’ll be as chilled as I can be.” You said.

“Y/n my dear, should I remind you how you ran away from that one rapper because he wanted to take you out on a date?” She laughed in between her sentences and you wanted to scream in embarrassment. “Ama please, let’s not speak on that, it was enough to scar me for days.”

Holding her hands up, Ama spoke again. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. Look Y/n, I have to go now and I promise i won’t speak on it again.” She laughed once again and you just shook your head at her.

“Bye Ama, say hi to everyone back home for me.” You sighed out.

“Byeee! Don’t forget, listen to sexyy red before you go. She’ll give you confidence.” Ama winked then dropped the call.

Feeling your hunger slowly come back, you ultimately decided to drag your two younger sisters to get dinner with you. You knew the next day was going to be incredibly long so you wanted to do everything early to prepare yourself.

-

You made no effort to research a single thing about the sport that you were going to watch.

Your father had sent staff to hand deliver your passes to each of you, there were only two and had specified that it was from Mercedes. Luckily, they went very well with your outfit choice for qualifying that day.

As for your journey to the track, a clearly nervous Mercedes employee was assigned to you along with all the other members of your family having their own guide. Her first thought was to compliment you and you couldn’t have thanked her enough, with you starting to like the experience.

Sitting in the car was not awkward at all, you had asked several questions about the sport and what exactly was happening so that you would not be confused in the garage. A tour would be put in place before qualifying for your family then you’ll get to meet the drivers however most of the fun stuff will happen on Sunday.

“Tell me, is my skirt too short? I made a bold move with this outfit today.” You asked, the younger girl already shaking her head in disagreement.

“It’s a very cute outfit, Your Majesty. It’s quite unsuspecting unless you’re going to wear a sash.” Maddy joked. “Oh no, we stopped that practice three years ago. Another thing, you don’t have to call me that. Y/n is just fine.” You smiled and you could see her sigh out of relief.

The conversation had went on until you arrived to the paddock gates and quite the crowd had gathered and obviously they had to be for the drivers and other important f1 personnel. Maddy had informed you that you and your family would enter through a much more private entrance to avoid crowds.

As soon as the door was opened, you could hear the loud atmosphere of the track. From fans to the cars, it was buzzing and that had you looking forward to the rest of your trip. Following close behind, you could spot your parents and sisters walking slightly ahead of you and they were admiring the beauty of the scenes behind the sport.

However, the weather did not accommodate your outfit all with goosebumps rising on your skin so quickly. “We’ve got some hoodies in the hospitality.” Maddy reassured with a smile.

After a warm welcome upon arriving at the hospitality and the overly excited team principal had showed you around, you finally received the hoodie and completely unaware of the ‘44’ etched into the material but at least you were now warm.

Your father was at his happiest, over-explaining everything to your curious sisters and your mom was in deep conversations with the barista who was from Zamunda. The paddock club was lively with different people wearing colourful merchandise of their favourite teams and only then did you realize you hadn't seen any driver or their face even though they were planted everywhere.

Before you could pull out your phone to research, Khosi, the youngest, ran up to you whilst laughing. "I made a joke to Baba that you'd find someone here and the face he made was priceless." She wheezed out, plopping down on the couch you were sitting on and lightly smiled at her antics.

Looking over at your father, he couldn’t be more excited, his smile growing larger and larger as the Merc personnel continued speaking. “Toto will be here soon with the drivers and a few photographers from Mercedes. We’ll then head to the garage and pit lane for a tour.”

Without a moment to spare, several people entered the space including photographers, the very eager team principal and what you would assume were the drivers. The taller one walked in with his hands clasped together with a large smile on his face, his style could be described as preppy.

The next driver, however, his presence could be felt with just a step in the doorway. The first thing you noticed about him was his confidence followed by his outfit, a black tracksuit with simple red lines around specific areas. After being mesmerised by each detail about him, you got to his eyes which locked in with yours.

A shiver ran down your spine as the both of you maintained eye contact with each other, a slight smile on his face whilst chewing on some gum and you truly could’ve melted on the spot. “George, Lewis. Meet the royal family of Zamunda. King Akeem and his family have been long time followers of Formula One and we’ve had the honour of hosting them in our team.” Toto expressed, quite literally unable to stand still.

Introductions began and butterflies were flying around your stomach the closer you got to him. You could tell that he was your father’s favourite driver as he spoke for quite a while and even made a few jokes but you couldn’t hear anything, not when the man in the designer tracksuit was staring you down.

“Your Majesty, i’m Lewis. It’s lovely to meet you.” He finally introduced himself to you as you were the last of your family to greet everyone. You held out your hand to him and he gladly accepted it and you prayed that he wouldn’t feel the warmth of your palms. “Likewise,” You cleared your throat. “Y/n is just fine.”

The sound of your name falling from his lips felt like heaven, pronouncing it correctly on the first try just added to the attraction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n.” He spoke lowly and you could barely keep yourself together in your head. You wanted to find more words to say to him, anything, but your chance fell short as the eager team principal pulled you out of your head to introduce the next driver to you.

The next few minutes were brutal. Your family stood opposite the faces of the team and you could feel his eyes glued to you, unmoving.

In typical Zamundan fashion, it’s in your father’s blood to brag about how great his country is and all its beauty. “And onto my eldest daughter, she’s quite the superstar. All her humanitarian work has brought eyes onto Zamunda. Y/n, aren’t you working on the STEM school project? She’s also a professor!” The King spoke with pride in his voice, making you want to hide in a corner.

A humble but nervous chuckle left your lips. “It was just a week of me teaching lectures, Baba.” Your words made the whole room laugh but his smile was the brightest. “But yes, the STEM project is still in its early days but a lot of students are interested which makes me happy.” You concluded with a small smile.

Lewis looked impressed. Wait. Since when did you care what anyone thought of your hard work? Especially a man that you knew would be a major distraction to the single lifestyle you’ve lived all these years. You had much to focus on and becoming Queen of Zamunda was at the top of your list.

But why not let loose a little? ‘Live a little’ as your sisters often say whenever you come back home exhausted.

“Is that so? Lewis here has his own foundation for kids in STEM, specifically for motorsport!” The tall team principal smiled and it took everything in you to look into the man’s eyes as you felt them on you.

“I could tell you more about it if you’d like.” Lewis spoke in a calm, low voice. You wanted to walk closer so that you could hear his words travel through you, wanting to listen to every word he had to say to you, every action he wanted to do to y-

Taking a breath and putting a soft smile on your face, you nodded. “I’d like that, thank you.” Talks of hot laps and tours started flying around but you couldn’t hear a word that was said. What was wrong with you? All this man had done was look into your eyes and you felt like you could melt. Lewis clearly used this gentlemanly charm to persuade everyone around him, including your father.

Watching him converse with your family had unleashed a new swarm of butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t truly felt in a long time. You had been with one or two people casually but none had ever satisfied you, only caring about your status as Princess. However, you had a gut feeling about something but you didn’t want to dwell on it yet.

“Shall we go for the tour now?” Toto’s voice boomed around the room with a clap of his hands.

-

Feeling a nudge on your arm, you turn to look at your mom as your attention was on the screens around the garage. “Are you going to bring him to Zamunda?” Your mother teased with a smile. Your eyebrows furrowed before you realised who she was referring to.

“Mother, I’d rather not talk about that now. Let’s just enjoy where we are now.” You put your hand on your mom’s then turned to look at the screen.

“He’d make a lovely prince. It’s okay to separate yourself from work, you know? I want you to live a little, my angel.” She continued, enveloping both her hands around yours.

You opened your mouth to speak but she beat you to it. “Don’t worry about your father. He’d be ecstatic if you brought this one home. You still have a lot of time left, Y/n.”

Knowing your mother was right, you breathed in and refocused your attention to qualifying. Lewis seemed to be doing well, even his driving looked attractive to you. Okay, calm it down girl.

After quali, the Mercedes hospitality was buzzing even though the skies were ever gray. Munching on a piece of cake, you offered a smile to those who would walk past and gawk at you. It was evident that F1 had made quite the big deal about your family merely attending a race weekend but you never expected this attention much on you.

A camera crew stayed outside and continuously took pictures of you sitting by your lonesome and you hoped for something to distract you from the feeling of being watched. Surprisingly, the crew began walking away after looking behind you for a split second and the cologne that suddenly surrounded you made it very clear who did it.

“Sorry if they were bothering you, your highness.” Lewis spoke, eventually standing in front of you yet not taking a seat across. Chuckling a bit, you looked up at him. “I thought we spoke about the title, Lewis.”

“Yes we did but I can’t let the media know you like that, only I’ve received the honour.” He smiled and there were the butterflies again. “If you’d like to sit down, you may.” You offered with the sweetest smile. Taking your offer, he never took his eyes off you.

It was quiet as he observed you. “What?” Looking like a deer in headlights, you placed your spoon down. “You’re a powerhouse. I’ve seen you represent your country and how much love you have for it. It’s admirable.”

You were taken aback. You hadn’t received such compliments from someone you were interested in. “Well, now I feel terrible because I’ve got no clue about your sport.” You spoke, covering your mouth with your floating hand.

“That’s okay, Princess.” All he did was say those words and you felt like a puddle all over again. “You’re doing that thing with your eyes again.” You pointed out, wondering if he could see right through your demeanour.

“What thing are my eyes doing, Y/n?”

“…I’d rather not say it in public.”

Lewis’ smirk widened as you said that. He thought it would be a challenge to try make a move on you as you seemed reserved unlike the rest of your family. “Why not? I’m quite curious to hear your thoughts.” He smiled, adjusting his arms to rest on the table.

“Not in your team’s hospitality suite.” You quickly replied, your eyes darting everywhere but him.

“Y/n.” Lewis just said your name and just like that, your thoughts became improper. Locking eyes with him, you knew that he was teasing you, something that you were never able to experience others.

“We can speak about our foundations over dinner!” You quickly suggested, barely registering what just came out of your mouth. “Dinner sounds perfect however that was supposed to be my line.” He joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

-

Everything felt chaotic. You had returned to the hotel from the race which was extremely exhilarating and he had gotten a relatively high position which made you proud.

As you were leaving your seat in the garage a few hours ago, Lewis had approached you knowing very well that the cameras were watching the exchange between the two of you. “I forgot to mention how gorgeous you looked earlier.” He said as he was standing relatively close to you.

“Lewis! You can’t say that, the cameras are watching.” You whisper yelled, looking at the cameras pointed at the scene before them. All he did was laugh and turn on his heel before turning his head to you. “I’ll see you at 7 pm , your highness.” He winked and just like that, he was gone.

And that whole memory ran through your mind as you paced up and down your hotel room. You were all ready for the dinner but you were feeling something…different. It was normal for you to have dinners but this one had a certain tension hanging over it. You smoothed out your dress with your hands as you paced.

Another thing that drove you crazy was that you had no clue of what exactly was happening. You always knew the time, setting and guests of everything you did but now you were completely out of the loop but you had trust in him, as insane as it sounds.

The knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts and you took a breath before turning the doorknob to reveal Lewis standing there with a bouquet of flowers you couldn’t recognise but your heart grew at the sight of them. Your eyes glided over him as you looked at his outfit, a white cardigan with black slacks and designer chunky shoes. He smiled and you almost fell to your knees just looking at him more relaxed and sexy.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Y/n.” He complimented, his own eyes moving all over your body. He couldn’t help but admire your beauty as you stood before him. You were the embodiment of a princess and you never failed to exude such energy as you did.

“Uh, would you like to come in? I just have to get my heels.” You spoke as you opened the door a little wider. The room smelt of a scent he couldn’t quite grasp but he definitely labelled it as an aphrodisiac because Lewis began feeling his hands getting hot. He made his way to the couch right by the large window as you closed the door.

You stood in the middle of the room with your fingers pinching your lip in nervousness. The tension could be cut with a knife with the way he was watching you. “Um so, how’d you plan this?” You asked, finally looking at Lewis but you noticed his eyes were slightly lower.

“Your sisters are quite the wingwomen.” He spoke, adjusting his body to sit comfortably.

“Right, right……”

A beat passed before he leaned forward. “Princess, is everything okay?”

“Do you think we could skip dinner? I never usually do this but I don’t think I can go another moment.” You blurted out, too afraid to see his reaction to your raunchy suggestion.

Another moment of silence passed and you felt defeated. You felt like you’d gone on too strong and that’s not what you envisioned at all.

“Y/n.” He called and you picked your head up to look up.

“C’mere.”

saint’s notes: you thought I was going to give you smut???? no 🤭 hope you enjoyed though! 🫶🏽

[maelialuv]

A Farmer's Friend. a Bridgerton fanfic <3

part one: A Chance Encounter

Summary: division brings unity. secrecy creates infatuation. a king's venture into the real world reveals desire.

Warnings: slow burn! strangers to friends to lovers! (Charlotte does not exist) smut! cold showers are on me.

Wordcount: 3.4K

The country side , to you, was heaven on earth. The far roaming hills, the deep valleys. The wide expanse of nothing but lush green fields. There was truly nothing more beautiful.

Your father's farm, to you, was the most beautiful of all. Located at the farthest edge of the county, miles and miles away from the city of London, it was a haven of tall grass, fruitful crops and rich orchards. That is where you spent most of your time, perched between the trunk and wide branches of a tall apple tree in the deepest part of your family's gardens. Far away from the bustling farm house, the uproar of live stock and the erratic, but loving, nature of your home.

From the moment the sun rose over the hills and danced across your face in the morning, to the moment it tucked itself into the valley at night, you were out in the fields. Tucked away indoors, you found yourself claustrophobic. Cased in, stir crazy and a tad hysterical. From a young age, your parents had to heard you inside at the end of a day much like the sheep dogs would heard the lambs back into their pens. It was no different, even as you approached adulthood.

You had your back to the trunk of a tree, a book clutched in one hand and an apple - freshly plucked from the branch above you- in the other, when you caught sight of one of the stable boys chasing after your father in the field ahead of you.

A man of great strength and pride, your father took his work in the fields very seriously. Even after the death of his own father, he was back shearing sheep after just two days. This is why it confused you ever so much , brows furrowed in a frown, to see your father drop his shears at once in front of the stable boy and clutch his chest. The pair raced down the field, sprinting in the direction of the house with the dogs trailing behind them in a flurry of brown and grey and white.

You took a pensive bite of the apple, crunching deliberately. 'Whatever is the matter?' you thought. 'What is the meaning of such fuss?' You tried desperately to get back to your book, the words of the author falling on distracted thoughts as your mind pondered such a reaction from your father. You snapped your book shut with a huff, annoyed and now positively rabid with curiosity.

John, an Orcher in his late fifties, was plucking apples from a tree just next to yours. You peered your head over to him. "John," you called, "have you any reason for father's fuss with the stable boy?"

John's face paled, almost frightfully white, at your question. He took his cap off with the type of remorse one shows with deep apology. "I'm terribly sorry, madam. I thought all the children were aware." You quirked a brow at his words, irritated that the farms people still saw you as one of the children despite being the eldest daughter in the house. His voice was gruff and gravely, years of shouting at yardsmen wearing on his vocal chords. "There is to be a royal visit, madam. Today."

Your eyebrows shot up so fast , you wondered for a moment if they were still on your face. "A royal visit? Here?" The Dowager Princess had not been out in the country since the passing of the late King. Your brows furrowed in deep confusion. "Whatever for?"

John shrugged his shoulders earnestly.

"Lord knows but I, madam. Some sort of review of the farmland, but that's between the King and his advisors."

"The King?" you squawked. You hiked your skirt up, throwing your legs over the branch and jumping down. You stalked to the bottom of the ladder John was standing on. "The King is coming here?"

In all your eighteen years, you'd only ever seen one monarch. Even so, it was a painting of His late Majesty. All you knew of the current King was that he made no visits to the towns, nor galas or balls. He had been labelled somewhat a recluse of a man. You wondered how that could be healthy for such an old person. At least, you assumed he was old. The previous king had died aged seventy and two, so this king must have been creeping into his late fifties now.

"Yes, madam." John said. "Your father has been called now, to prepare. He is due to arrive soon."

Your feet sprang into action, galloping down the aisle of the orchard at lightening speed as you raced toward the direction of the house. You never cared for pompous displays, or the royal family as a whole, very much at all. But today was different. The king himself was visiting your home. Your fields, your valleys and your hills. You felt oddly protective. As if this inspection was to be one with an insulting conclusion. You reassured yourself that they would see the beauty in your home. In the sway of the grassy hills in the wind.

Knowing your mother would not let you close enough to see even the Royal carriage make its way through the wooden gates of your home, you rounded the corner of the brown farm house and clambered your way up the large oak tree in the middle of the drive way. From high above in the branches, you would not be seen by your mother - as she so preferred. She yearned for a daughter more like the ones her sisters had. Lady like and proper and ones that smile at every pleasing farmer their mothers set them up with.

Your mother was disappointed in the lack of girlishness in you. She was displeased in your fascination with reading, and your taking to the outdoors. She was put off by the closeness between you and your father, finding it strange that the two of you could be friends as well as father and daughter. She found your desire to spend all day outdoors odd, and you found her desire to marry a farmer whilst hating farms to be odd in return.

You gripped on to the tallest branches, peering through leaves in the hopes of seeing the gleams of gold as the carriage approached. You saw your father and the farmer boys line up in front of the door below, and your mother and younger brothers waited just behind them. In the distance, you heard a low thrumming sound. It got louder, and seemingly closer, as more seconds ticked by. You realised, as you heard the clop clop clop noise, that it was the sound of horses' hooves on the dirt tracks as the carriage came into view.

The carriage halted in front of your door, and your father outstretched his hand to an older gentlemen in a plush blue suit. Though your fathers clothes- an old grey shirt and black trousers- were not as elegant, he looked just as regal as he shook hands with the stranger, who you assumed to be the King. He had greying hair, curled into ringlets by his side. There were several other men beside him, ranging from young to old to very old.

You craned your neck to hear their voices, a chorus of low hums and stiff lipped compliments from the old man you saw to be the king. Several minutes ticked by, boredom creeping in as you swung your legs back and forth over the branch, before the group of men finally split to tour the farm land with your father. You rejoiced, a grumble in your belly making any words they said inconsequential. You began your decent from the tree.

With scraped palms and knees, you made it to the ground with a thud. A successful spying , you thought as you wiped your hands on the skirt of your dress. Your monologing was interrupted by the stifled chuckle of a man behind you. You whipped round, narrowing your eyes at the man. Dressed in a simple white shirt and the same black field trousers as your father, he looked to be a fielder himself.

"Hello," he said, voice even and light. He stood with his hands behind his back, polite and effortlessly straight. He was young, younger than the rest of the group you assumed he had been standing with. He must have been no more than three years older than you, as his cheeks still had the faintest roundness to them.

"What are you doing?" he asked when you did not say anything.

You knew your eyes were wide, those of someone caught. There was no use in lying , nor excusing. This man had watched you climb down the tree, from where you had spied. You outstretched your hands, as if stating the obvious. "I was climbing down. From the tree."

"From the tree?"

"Yes, from the tree."

"From that tree?" the man asked, voice teasing and smile irritating as he pointed to the tall oak you had previously been perched in.

"Yes, that tree."

"Whatever for?" He placed his hands behind his back once more, slowly pacing around you in a circle.

"I was hungry, you see." You deadpanned.

"Ah," he affirmed, "and you did not bring food when you climbed up the tree." He was enjoying teasing you, as the smirk on his face grew larger at your squirming. "Or simply not enough."

"Well," you trailed off, waiting for the man to introduce himself to you.

"Forgive me," he said, outstretching a hand. "I am George."

"Well George," you continued. "Usually the trees I climb have some sort of fruit or such for me to eat while I climb, or lounge, or read. This is not my typical tree to climb." You explained.

"And I suppose you have a typical tree?" His face was oddly gleeful, as if this conversation with you - a stranger- was the best part of his day. His smile was wide, showing teeth.

"Yes, I do."

"Which is?" He asked, stepping closer toward you. His smirk was a teasing grin now.

"The apple tree," you stated, that protectiveness creeping back into your tone. "at the farthest end of the orchard."

"Now," he said, voice lilted with mock impress, "I must see this tree, that you so fondly and regularly climb." His voice was a stage whisper.

"Alas, I cannot." You teased back, some what enjoying the banter yourself. "I do not simply show my tree to strangers."

"Ah, but I am not a stranger," he said, closer again now. "I am just George." He stuck his hand out again, waiting for you to shake it. Hesitantly, you did. "I would be honoured to see your tree."

"Do you not have business to attend to?" You asked, gesturing in the direction the other men and the Royal herd had walked in. George shook his head, waving off your remark.

"They are fine themselves. They have no use for my agreements here and questions there." He said. "And even so, if I were to re-join them now," he took another small step closer to you, eyes searching in the distance, "my mind would think of nothing but this apple tree at the farthest end of the orchard."

You smiled at the man as he looked down at you, and felt the strangest urge to lead him by the hand to your sacred reading spot. Something about George made you trust him, utterly and completely, as if you'd known him your whole life. As if you'd run through the fields with him as children, and he knew where the tree was already.

"All right, just George."

A bright, down right contagious smile etched itself on to his face. You couldn't help but smile just as brightly.

The two of you strode side by side through the back field of the farm, chatting idly as you lead him to the orchard. George told you he was a keen farmer himself, but his family bound him to the city. "Why don't you just leave them?" you asked as you opened the large wooden field gate for him.

George paused, leaning on the gate with both arms crossed. "It is not that simple," he said, his face contort in a frown. "I am obliged to stay there. It is a duty, of sorts." He looked around at the tall grass, the wild flowers that bloomed in the field at his feet. "If it were up to me, I would spend all my time in the country."

You felt immensely sorry for him. The thought of being away from the country for more than a day put a nasty pit in your stomach. Gently, you placed your hand on his arm. He looked up at you with glum eyes. You gave him your best reassuring smile as you squeezed his arm lightly. He smiled back at you.

You fell back into stride with one another after that. George asked about your family, and you told him about your father and your three younger sisters. He asked where they were, and you let out a haughty laugh. "They cower at the sight of mud. They are cooped inside with my mother, embroidering or learning the pianoforte or some other nonsense."

"You see no value in these tasks, then?" George asked with a small smirk.

"I see no point, given where we live. What use have I for musical impress or intricate sewing when I spend my time outdoors?" You paused your walking, gesturing to the cows grazing near by. "Any man I encounter in these parts will be as impressed by my pianoforte as those cows."

"Ah, I see." George chuckled to himself. "You are to be a spinster then." You whipped round to face him, annoyance turning your brows into a tight v shape. George laughed again.

"For a stranger you are certainly bold."

"I do not hear a defence."

"No, I am not to be a spinster." You crossed your arms, uncrossing them when George cocked his head to the side slightly. You must have looked ridiculous, like an petulant, spoilt child. You huffed.

"I am not to be a spinster. At least not by intention." You both began walking again, rounding the corner to the long aisle of the orchard. "There," you said, pointing to your tree at the very end.

You turned when George remained silent. His mouth was agape slightly, brown eyes wide and almost honey in the mid day sun. "Beautiful," he sighed out.

It caught you off guard, the strange desire to lead him by the hand to your tree and show him the very best branches. The way he looked at your favourite spot with such awe made you near desperate to share it with him. You had to restrain yourself from reaching out and touching his hand that was inches from yours at your side. You shook your head slightly, as if a jitter would rid of of such peculiar feelings. "Come along, then."

George walked obediently at your side, keeping perfect pace with you. As you walked, he couldn't help but notice the sway of your hair in the light breeze, the way it framed your face so gently. Or the patches of freckles that spotted the bridge of your nose, or the subtle fullness of your bottom lip, how it was slightly larger than the top.

"You said you are not to be a spinster by choice," he began as you reached the foot of the tree. "Whatever do you mean?"

"What I mean is," you said as you reached up to a near branch, pulling yourself up with little struggle, "no man here is in need of a wife, and I am in no need for an elderly husband." You frowned when George laughed again. "You must stop that!" You cried.

"Stop what?" He smiled through his teeth again.

"Laughing at me!"

"I am not laughing at you, forgive me." He said, reaching up to the same branch and - just as you had- hauled him self up with ease. "I simply find it hard to believe no one here is in need of a wife."

"Everyone is already married, or too old, or far too young." You deadpanned. "I do not want to marry a frail old man."

"Let me rephrase," George began. He reached across you, and for a moment you thought he was going to touch your cheek. You sucked in a nervous breath. He plucked an apple that was hanging just above you ear. "I find it hard to believe no one here wants you for a wife."

You found it hard to form words, stuttering over a response. George bit into his apple , smugness radiating off of him in reams.

The two of you sat in peaceful silence for a moment, your backs leaning against the trunk of the tree while your legs stretched out next to each other. "Do you sit out here all day?" George asked softly, turning his head toward you. His breath fanned over your face slightly. You nodded.

"Most days," you sighed contently. "I am usually the one that goes into the towns if needed. Otherwise, I am left alone to sit here as I please." You looked out as the sheep roamed the field ahead of you.

George rested his head back against the trunk of the tree.

"I am envious of you, truly." He said, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You turned your head to face him. Your shoulders were brushing against each other with every breath.

"You are welcome to come here," you said, in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "You can bring a book, and you may sit here for as long as you like, whenever you please. Whenever your family allows you to be in the country."

This close to him, you noticed the flecks of gold in George's eyes. The small freckle above his eye brow. The rosiness of his cheeks. His words echoed in your head.

'I find it hard to believe no one wants you for a wife."

In the distance, you heard the ruckus of the men returning to the front of the house. George shot up. You shot up with him.

"I must go," he said hurriedly. He swung his legs over the branch and jumped off. As you moved to do the same, you saw him waiting on the ground with his hands outstretched. He was helping you down. You reached a hand out to him, and he pulled you down. Expecting a thud, you noticed he had steadied you with a hand on your waist. "I wish I could stay longer, I truly do. Alas, they will run like chickens without heads if I am not back soon."

You wished to find some poetic goodbye, but all you could muster was a soft sigh. "Will you be back?" His hand was still gripping yours.

George chuckled breathily.

"Of course," he said, as if it was obvious. "I must bring a book and see if this really is the best spot for reading."

The voices in the distance got louder, calling George's name now. He looked over his shoulder, then back to you. "I am back in the country in two weeks time. May I see you then?"

You smiled at his politeness, hoping your hasty nod came across as friendly and not desperate. "Of course."

"Splendid."

He brought your hand to his lips then, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles. "It has been a pleasure, madam." He said with a gentlemanly bow.

He turned to walk away then, and you felt as though the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your feet were glued to the ground, unable to move you from that same spot.

"Oh," George called from a distance. "The inspection went fantastically. Your farm shall have a wonderful review." He grinned, all boyish and joyful, before turning back and sprinting in the direction of the loud voices.

His words only sunk in after he'd rounded the corner gate, and you nearly collapsed onto a log.

Not only had you spent your afternoon with a total stranger, telling him your deepest thoughts and secrets, scandalously close should a gossiping eye see it.

You'd just spent your afternoon with the King of England.

[sabertoothwalrus]

I’ve seen you post some labru stuff and I’m curious what your thoughts on it are. personally I don’t see it? I can buy Kabru having feelings for Laios, but I think Laios wouldn’t be interested in Kabru, so it makes me wonder why so many people ship them. (Tbh I feel like Kabru has more chemistry with Mithrun anyway)

Sorry if this ask sounds rude, I just genuinely don’t understand the appeal of the ship, but I want to understand and I trust your analysis of characters very much :] maybe there’s something I’m missing

I really like both ships, actually!

For labru, there’s sooooo much I could talk about. The inherent homoeroticism of being narrative foils. The inherent homoeroticism of being the king’s advisor. All of chapter 76. The fact that Kabru has mask upon mask upon mask, and Laios is the first person that made his facade absolutely crumble.

Kabru struggles with being genuine!!! Everything he says and does is so perfectly calculated, even when he sort of means it. But since Laios doesn’t get social cues, Kabru gets thrown for a loop.

I get so frustrated when people act like Kabru still hates Laios by the end of the manga!!!!! He killed those corpse retrievers for being corrupt, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to kill Laios. He has such a strong sense of justice, and knew that killing Laios would be a mistake. Because, after meeting him, he could tell he wasn’t actually evil. He’s strange, sure, but not evil.

Kabru DEFINITELY wants to be friends with Laios!! He was not lying about this!!!

But this last comic shows how much Laios wants to be friends with Kabru, too. He’s so nervous after calling Kabru his friend 😭 he doesn’t want to be presumptuous and fuck it up again.

Laios does show an interest in Kabru, at least when Laios thinks he’s interested in eating monsters too. Like,, what was up with THIS

Laios’s gaze is LINGERING. Plus, (this is before that bit at Thistle’s house when he forgets his name) he brings up Kabru when they first form their plan to eat Falin.

And maybe this is just because of my own personal experiences, but Laios reminds me a lot of my own girlfriend. I think they have a similar flavor of gay/aspec & autism combo where, had I not asked her out first, she probably never would have considered being interested in me. But she was very down when I did.

The tricky part about labru is more the political aspect. Regardless of whether you see Laios as aroace or not, he’s in a situation where he will probably get married. He had a fiancée before he was age 13, likely betrothed since he was a baby. He’s already comfortable with the idea of getting married because He’s Supposed To.

However, Laios is king, and could make gay marriage legal if he wanted to (He would probably do this for his sister and Marcille before considering it for himself ). But at the same time, I think Kabru would object to Laios making whatever policies he wants without considering the repercussions of how other kingdoms might react, especially when they’re just getting Melini off the ground and need lots of support from other countries. Laios and Kabru getting gay married anyway and dealing with the aftermath could make for a really compelling story.

I do think Kabru would be a good ruler. He’s already fit for it. He speaks a dozen languages, he knows people and their motivations, and likes politics. The manga already joked about Chilchuck’s daughters trying to marry a king, so it seems like noble blood isn’t too important, but Kabru’s foster family IS nobility. When it comes to heirs, I do like trans Kabru headcanons, but at the same time, I think it’d be cute if they adopt anyway. Kabru seems like he’d have strong feelings about adoption given,,, yknow.

The alternative version of labru to this is Laios gets straight married out of obligation, and Kabru is his mistress hdhdhshsj. I don’t know if I could see Laios doing that? or if Kabru would risk the scandal of being outed as Royal Advisor and Regent trying to seduce the king. It could go SO downhill. but maybe that would be fun.

NOW FOR KABUMISU.

I knew people shipped them, and I could see the basis for it while reading, but I wasn’t really sold on it until the very end. There’s something about “I had no desires left. I decided to create new desires, and one of them is you” that’s really charming.

There’s also something funny about “the demon ate my heterosexuality so I’m gay now”

I think it’s interesting that Kabru hates elves. He was raised by them, and he hates them. He hates feeling patronized by them. He made absolutely sure that elves wouldn’t take control over Melini, not just for his sake, but for Rin’s.

But Mithrun’s interactions with Kabru are founded on more mutual respect. Though, that’s not to say that Mithrun doesn’t still have his biases towards short lived races..

Where Laios doesn’t understand social cues, Mithrun does but just doesn���t care. For that reason, I think Kabru would enjoy spending time with Mithrun. It’d give him a break from his compulsion to calculate all of his social interactions. But at the same time, Kabru is the KING at bottling his emotions. Mithrun is blunt, but also doesn’t care enough to pry. If Kabru had anything bothering him, I could imagine him seeking Mithrun’s company to avoid thinking about it. Could make for a fun dynamic.

I do think it’s funny that Milsiril 1) took care of Mithrun for potentially 20 years and 2) is only four years older than him. I imagine this could lead to funny situations.

I don’t ship things for no reason! I think both of these could work platonically, romantically, one-sided, or even “requited but they don’t do anything about it.” Their relationships compel me and I think it’s sort of bad faith to brush off either like they’re nothing more than baseless yaoi pair-the-spares. To me, I see just as much of a foundation in the source material as farcille.

After all, dungeon meshi isn’t a story about romance, but it IS a story about love. It’s a story about life and death and grief and the love that comes with it. Regardless of shipping, these characters love each other!!! And I love talking about it!!

[moonstruckme]

Omg wait are you looking for prince!sirius requests? I love that series but I didn't want to be pushy about it lol

What about some kind of big event for r that she's feeling some anxiety about, and she goes to sirius for help? Like she's giving a speech so she practices it with him, or they do flashcards of important people she needs to know the names of?

Thanks for requesting angel!

cw: allusions to Black family dynamics

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 860 words

“You’ve got it,” Sirius encourages you. “I’ll give you a hint. It starts with a b, like buttmunch, which if you talk to him you’ll find is really very fitting.” 

Your lips curve, but your brow remains firmly set in concentration. 

“Okay, b. B…Beekman?” 

“Very close.” Sirius puts the flashcard down. “Becker.” 

“Damn it.” You sit back from where you’d leaned forward to peer at Becker’s face, hands clasping around your tented knees. 

“Time for a break?” he suggests. 

“Yeah, guess so.” You reach for the cup of tea sitting on your bedside table, rubbing beside your eyebrow. 

You’re wearing pajamas again. Or, they might not be pajamas to you, but they are to Sirius. Sweatpants and a loose top that drapes off your form and looks delightfully soft. Sirius had tried to follow suit, but the closest he could get was a plain, fitted shirt and his most comfortable trousers. Sirius’ family doesn’t really believe in loungewear. 

He likes that you’re not like that, though. It’s hard to know how normal the Blacks are even among royalty, but you seem less bound to any expectations besides your own than any royals he’s met. You were kind enough to lend him a pair of sweatpants when he arrived, and Sirius has never felt more spoiled. 

“Sorry this is taking so long,” you say. “I was never great with names.” 

“You’ll be alright,” Sirius reassures you. Though, names are sort of a big part of these dinners. Everyone wants you to know who they are, to validate their importance and make them feel like they have a close personal connection to power. Sirius is lucky; memorization comes easily to him, and he’s been kept abreast of who’s dying off and who’s getting married since he was old enough to speak. “Even if you can’t remember all of them, you can always get by with enthusiasm.” 

You cock your head interestedly. “Enthusiasm?” 

“You know. Goodness gracious,” he rolls his eyes, speaking with a deadpan delivery, “it is so wonderful to finally meet you. How are you, how is your family? That sort of shit.” 

Your smile blooms. It really is a lovely sight, and one Sirius wishes he’d been graced with more often since meeting you. He understands why you’ve not been in particularly high spirits; after meeting an entire new family, being forced to make nice with supercilious aristocrats, and learning your family plans to marry you off without really asking for your input, Sirius wouldn’t be feeling particularly smiley either. Still, he hopes to see more of it. 

“Does that really work?” you ask him. 

“Course. All any of them want is to feel like you know them. Whatever accomplishes that is fine. What did the Queen tell you?” 

Your smile fades, your mouth twisting instead with a dry humor. “She wasn’t around. One of her advisors just said to study the flashcards and try to talk as little as was inoffensive, whatever that means. Basically stay out of trouble, I guess.” 

Sirius huffs a laugh. He can’t count how many times people have told him to stay out of trouble. He’s fairly sure he never once listened. 

“Well, I think you’ll do lots better than they’re expecting.”

“Really?” Your eyes turn up to his, big and hopeful. Sirius feels his mouth curve of its own volition. 

“Yeah,” he says earnestly. “Just be yourself, gorgeous. They won’t be able to leave you alone.

It’s certainly been true for Sirius. And the fact is, you could make the biggest faux pas of the century and none of those snobs would call you on it. You’re a princess. 

He does genuinely believe that you could get by even without your status, though. You’re not an imposing presence, but there’s an air about you that puts people at ease. You emanate good intentions. It’s intriguing; Sirius hardly knows anything about those. 

You hide a smile behind your teacup. “I thought we said no flirting when no one was around.” 

“Sorry. Can’t help it. Fair warning, by the way,” he drops his voice into a more serious register, “you’ll probably have to be introduced to my parents. Now that they think you’ve agreed to their arrangement, they’ll want to meet you.” 

“Oh.” You blink, lowering your tea. “Okay. I’m excited to meet them.” 

So this is how you sound when you lie. 

“It won’t be fun,” Sirius warns. “They’re not nice, but they probably won’t really care about speaking to you after being introduced. It ought to be short, at least.” 

“Sirius,” you laugh, and it’s hard to tell whether the twitch in Sirius’ gut is from you saying his name or the sound of your laughter. Further studies will be needed. “They’re your parents. They can’t be that bad.” 

Sirius heaves a sigh, flopping sideways so he’s lying across your bed. “They are.” He gives your knee a pat. “But no need to worry about that now. Ready to get back to the cards?” 

“Sure.” Your posture straightens slightly, a cute, concentrated frown coming to your lips. Sirius holds up the first flashcard. “Alright. This one’s name starts with a w, like wanker.”

[elfy-elf-imagines]

To Meet Under the Stars | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff

▹ Words: ~3k

▹ Summary: In light of the stars, Thranduil finds himself entirely enchanted by a mysterious masked woman.

▹ Notes: I love masquerade balls, that is all. Unedited because we die as men.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The light of starlight was something sacred to the elves. 

In the times of old, before the moon and sun had been created, Varda placed the stars in the sky, illuminating the world for the elves to see. For all other races, stars were just light that guided their way at night, but they were so much more for the elves. They held the promise of life unsullied by the evil of Morgoth. A beautiful display of glistening diamonds that held the light of creation. To honor the stars was to honor Varda herself.

Under the canopy of stars, the wood elves of Eryn Galen celebrated the first night of the autumn equinox. The moon was full and high in the sky as lords, ladies, and commoners alike gathered for the party. The echo of minstrels ensured there would be no corner of the kingdom not lit with joy. Dragonflies darted across ponds, and crickets hid in the forest, chirping to the beat of the lute. There were festivities all throughout the kingdom, but the main attraction was the masquerade ball held within the palace of King Thranduil. Only guests of high esteem were invited to dance under the lush canopy in the company of the royal family. 

And there you were, with summer in your hair and winter in your eyes. Dancing through the crowd, illuminated in the silver light of the moon, you were the vision of a goddess. A soft halo shone upon your silver-gold hair, pinned in an updo with stray pieces that cascaded down your back. Flowers in purple, blue, and silver hues were placed upon your head like a crown, creating the silhouette of a queen. A silver mask encrusted with enough jewels that it glittered under the light concealed the top half of your face, two holes allowing your eyes to glow in the dark. A grin born of pure ecstasy was outlined by the lipstick on your lips. 

No one could recall who you were nor when you’d arrived at the celebration. It was as if you were always there, lying in wait and dancing with the ghosts of the open-roof ballroom. A laugh rivaling the minstrels' songs hung in the air where you stood and followed your every sweeping move. 

From the high table, with a glass of wine precariously hanging in his hand, Thranduil watched you. He couldn’t help it. It was as if you were weaving some sort of spell, casting it upon all who watched, paralyzed by your song and enraptured by your dance. You were beautiful, quick as a whip, and light as a feather. Each step seemed calculated and purposeful, yet so loose it could only be natural.

Thranduil couldn’t recall ever meeting you, so certain he’d know your laugh even if he couldn’t see your face. His advisors tried to make idle conversation as Legolas spent his time with the other members of the guard, drinking and laughing. Thranduil couldn’t be bothered to even pretend to listen, intently focused on the way your summer blue dress flowed like water around you. It nearly felt sacrilegious to directly look at something so beautiful, like staring at the face of Varda herself. 

“It is a beautiful--” his advisor beside him began to speak, talking so slowly it made Thranduil’s lips curl in slight irritation that was hidden by the goblet he held. He watched as you threw your head back in laughter, finding amusement in whatever the elf lord you were speaking with said. It took all his willpower not to roll his eyes as he drank more sweet wine. 

The elf lord offered you his hand, which you gracefully accepted. Instead of dancing through the crowds alone, you twirled in the arms of another man. It made Thranduil’s stomach turn in a way it hadn’t for centuries. 

You and the elf lord you danced with would flit in and out of his vision, yet the merriment never left your expression, and when the face of your dance partner would face Thranduil, he could see just how enchanted the man was by you. His grip on the goblet tightened, knuckles turning white. 

The song seemed endless, drawing out the end of it for as long as possible. Part of Thranduil was tempted to bark at the minstrels to begin a new one in hopes you would once again be left alone, but he didn’t. A king needed to maintain his composure, even if everything inside was screaming not to. It seemed silly to be so taken by a woman whose face he couldn’t even see. 

“Have you tried one of these cakes yet? They’re quite--” 

“Galion.” Thranduil interrupted the man previously speaking, gaining the attention of his butler. The advisor that had been interrupted scowled yet said nothing else as Galion stepped closer to Thranduil. 

“Yes, my king.”

Thranduil pointed at you, Galion’s eyes following his finger. “Who is that?”

His eyes narrowed as Galion leaned closer to try and get a better look at you. Yet not a glint of recognition twinkled in his eyes. Did anyone here know who you were?

“I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with who she is. Would you like me to fetch her, my king?” Galion asked, his attention returned to Thranduil, whose eyes furrowed in mild annoyance. 

“That will not be necessary, Galion.” He waved his hand, and Galion returned to his previous seat. It would be easy to bring you to him, he was the king, after all, but he didn’t want your meeting with him to seem forced upon you. He already had enough of a reputation as a cold, unfeeling man; it wouldn’t do any good to give you a reason to believe them. 

The song ended, and you stepped away from your partner, lowering into a curtsey that he returned with a bow. Thranduil stood, the legs of his chair scraping on the floor; he didn’t bother giving a weak excuse for his exit. If he doesn't act soon, you might slip from his fingers. Thranduil took long strides down the platform and disappeared into the sea of elves. 

He pushed his way through the crowd, most too lost in the magic of the music to pay their king any mind. He could see you, dancing alone with your eyes shut. The grin on your face was wide, never wavering in the slightest. The distance separating him from you was dwindling, the anticipation making his palm sweaty. The crowd parted, and he could’ve pulled you into his arms if he wanted to. 

But as he opened his mouth, you disappeared into the crowd, so preoccupied you never saw him coming. Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, his misty eyes searching the crowd for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. Had you merely been a figment of his imagination conjured by the trickster spirits rumored to hide in his forest? Perhaps you had been, but Thranduil was determined to comb through the crowd hoping to see you again.

Then, a flit of blue brightened the corner of his eye. He turned, seeing you dart from dance partner to dance partner, now on the other end of the room. A cat-like grin appeared on the edges of his mouth; he’d found you. Once more, he pushed through the crowd, not moving his eyes from you for one second, afraid you’d disappear without a trace if he did.

The crowd would pulse, and you would get closer to him before suddenly spreading out towards the treeline. Thranduil would get close enough to smell your floral perfume, but you'd dart in another direction before he could take your delicate hands in his. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was on purpose; you probably hadn’t even noticed him. Your eyes never locked with his that never strayed from you.

But the gods seemed to smile upon him that night, and as the crowd came closer, Thranduil snatched your hand. Your body twisted to face him, the grin on your face never faltering. The perfume you wore was distinctly jasmine, vanilla, and something sweeter, tantalizing enough to bring him closer to you. His hand was rough in comparison to yours, much larger too. 

“May I have this dance, my lady?” His voice was velvet smooth. Thranduil stood out like a sore thumb as the only one in the crowd without a mask. 

“You may, my king,” you curtsied before placing your other hand on his shoulder as his hand found its place on your waist. Wasting no time, the two of you twisted and spun through the crowd in an airy waltz. You had the grace of a swan, maintaining a poised elegance with a child-like grin. Thranduil felt himself falling deeper into whatever spell you had cast. 

A witch, that’s what you had to be. There was no other explanation for the hammering of his heart or the delight your touch elicited. 

One step back, one step forward, one to the side, and repeat. Another spin, extra flourish added for flavor, and the movements continued. Neither of you spoke, eye to eye, unable to look away from one another. Thranduil found himself counting the flecks in your eyes, convinced they held a thousand little stars in them. 

Perhaps you hadn’t been an illusion placed to taunt him but a gift from the Valar themselves. 

All too soon, the song ended, and the dance was finished. As he watched you do before, you stepped back from Thranduil and lowered into a sweeping curtsey. He wanted to ask you to stay with him, not only for the night but the rest of eternity, but he found himself tongue-tied.

“It was an honor to dance with you, my king.” Your voice was soft and warm, like the spiced tea he would drink before bed. He wanted your name, to lift the mask you wore and lay his eyes upon your face entirely. He needed to see the face of the woman that would surely haunt his every dream. 

Thranduil blinked, and in the brief time, his eyes weren’t on you, you’d disappeared. He half expected for there to be stardust left where your feet had been, but the only proof you’d existed was the imprint of your heels in the grass. His eyes scanned the crowd, twisting his body and craning his head, yet you were nowhere to be seen. But this time, instead of seeing flashes of your dress or silver hair, you were nowhere to be seen. You’d disappeared entirely.

Thranduil stood in the crowd a moment longer, hoping for a glimpse of you before deciding to return to his seat at the table. Perhaps from the high crowd, he could ascertain where you were. Thranduil returned to his seat, acting as if he hadn’t suddenly rushed from the table to dance with you, ignoring the questioning glances from his advisors. His goblet of wine in hand, eyes on the crowd, Thranduil sunk into the music and lost himself in thought. All of them were plagued by you. 

And there he stayed as the hours ticked by, seemingly in a trance. No one at the table bothered to strike up a conversation with Thranduil anymore; it was like trying to converse with a brick wall. So they settled in silence, occasionally remarking about the party with the other guests. 

“My king,” Galion returned to his side. “The lady you danced with has stepped away to the gardens.” Galion’s tone was even as if he were merely commenting on the weather. Thranduil side-eyed him, noticing the tinge of mirth on Galion’s smile. Thranduil tilted his head to the side, then slowly nodded. 

“Perhaps I should ensure our guest is enjoying the festivities.” 

Thranduil stepped away from the table and followed the path toward the garden’s you just slipped into. He took long strides to reunite with you sooner. This time he was determined to get your name and to peek beneath the mask you wore. 

When he finally stepped into the garden, he saw your back turned to him, fingers dipped in the fountain's water. Your posture was relaxed, hair loose and flowing, no longer pinned in the updo it once was. It flowed like liquid silver, furthering his conspiracy that you were a celestial being born of the gods. Precariously hanging in your hand was the mask you’d been wearing, thumbs rubbing against the ribbon that tied it in your hair. The minstrels were now a distant hum, the flowing water, and the chirp of crickets the only song in the gardens.

He stopped a few steps from you, trying to find the words to say. It’d been so long since he’d been made to feel like a shy elfling, nervous about approaching his first crush. A king should be dignified and confident, but he felt all of that crumble in your presence. 

Your ears twitched as Thranduil shifted in his spot, head raising at the sudden intrusion. Slowly, you turned, unsure who to expect would intrude upon your solitude. But of all the people you imagined stepping into the garden, you never anticipated it would be the king. He nearly seemed awkward and unsure in his place, fingers smoothing wrinkles on his robes that weren’t there. 

Immediately you lowered into a curtsey, but the king didn’t acknowledge the movement. His eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. As he looked upon your face, this must’ve been how the first elf to gaze upon the stars felt. The curves and lines of your face were soft and delicate, the vision of beauty. Your eyes seemed even brighter in the dim lighting, an unsure, shy smile curling on your lips.

“My king.”

He remained silent, too wonderstruck to speak. 

“If you require to be alone, I can--” You began to walk towards the exit, but as you passed Thranduil, his hand reached out and caught your arm. You turned to face him, uncertain. Thranduil’s hand trailed down your arm and intertwined with yours, a soft smile on his lips.

“Of all the people who desire my presence, yours is the one I desire most.”

You swallowed thickly, your mouth suddenly dry. You’d been close to the king only hours ago, sharing a dance with him. Yet the privacy of the gardens and the sweetness of his words, it all felt much more intimate. 

“Then I shall stay.”

Thranduil’s grin widened as he guided you further into the gardens. The flowers were vibrant and lush, a true testament to the skills of the elves. A canopy of trees diffused the moon's light, reflecting off the fountain and casting a spotlight on you. 

“I have a confession.” Thranduil suddenly stopped, eyes intently watching your face, noticing how your lips slightly parted and your eyes glowed with curiosity. “I have found myself quite enchanted with you, my lady. It seems foolish, not knowing your face until this moment and not having your name.”

“It’s Y/N, my king.” You interrupted, a charming smile curling your lips. The hammer of your heart matched the tempo with Thranduil’s. 

“Y/N.” He muttered your name quietly, your name on his lips making your stomach curl. Of all the ways you anticipated this night's end, strolling the garden with the king was not what you could’ve predicted in your wildest dreams.

“Y/N. If I may be so bold, I would like for this to not be the last time we meet. I desire more of your company.” 

Thranduil stepped closer, the heat he radiated warming your chilled skin. Gossebumnps followed where his hands touched, a shiver rushing down your spine. Subtly you pinched the back of your leg, convinced this was nothing more than a dream. Yet you didn’t wake; this moment was real. 

“If I may speak freely, my king?”

Thranduil nodded his head. “Please, you may call me Thranduil. No need for such formalities.”

You tipped your head at him as the smile on your face brightened. 

“If I may speak freely, Thranduil.” You corrected, with an almost mischievous lilt to your voice. “I would much desire more of your company as well. I have heard many rumors of your cold and detached demeanor. I’ve heard of how harsh you can be, yet I have seen nothing of that.”

“I’m glad the whispers of the court haven’t scared you away, my lady.” 

The smile on your face curled into a teasing smirk, eyes illuminating. “You’ll find it’ll take more than malicious rumors to scare me away.”

Thranduil's finger twirled around a lock of hair that framed your face. He seemed relaxed and more at ease than you'd have imagined. 

"A strong will and a fair face, Varda herself must've crafted you."  

His words made your face flush red, so deep it was seen in the dim lighting of the garden. 

"Pretty words you speak, my king; I'm eager to learn if your words match your heart." 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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[extra-v1rgin]

The reader is a wolf hybrid written with a vagina and breasts, I don’t think there’s any direct references to gender.

Contains: Mentions of previous poor living conditions, Imprisonment (sex doesn’t occur while reader is directly imprisoned), Cunnilingus, Vaginal fingering, Vaginal Intercourse, Groping.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

“Criminal case number forty-seven.” The chains around your hands clink loudly as a guard drags you forward. “The defendant has repeatedly robbed several stands throughout the capital. Jail time has had no effect and we seek more severe punishment.”

You keep your eyes on the ground. Without your comfortable cloak you feel exposed. The fur on your arms stands on end. Your hideous appearance is revealed in the scrappy prison clothes you wear. You suppose you really do look like some sort of criminal now.

“Are you a kobold?” A loud voice rings out. The words bounce around the ornate room until they burns your ears.

You don’t speak. You don’t want to dignify his idiotic question with a response. The crown king or prince or whatever should just sentence you to death by hanging and leave you be.

The guard to your left smacks the back of your head. “Answer,” he commands gruffly.

“I’m not.” You mumble the words so softly you’re sure you’ll just be reprimanded again but the quiet words appear to be satisfactory.

“Beastkin then? Or some kind of-“

“Laios focus on your duties!”

Your eyes flick upwards to watch the… advisor or confidant- you can’t pay attention to the intricacies of royal life -scold the king. They exchange quiet words that even your sensitive ears can’t make out. When the conversation ends you bow your head once more.

“We’ll keep her in the barracks for further investigation.”

Your ears twitch but otherwise you don’t react. Music sounds from your restraints again, jingling as you’re dragged off.

—-

The cells in the castle aren’t much nicer than any of the others you’ve been in. Most are relatively similar other than the temperature inside. You’re warm here at least which is better than the wooden walls that let in every gust of wind back on the outskirts of town.

The guards are the same, quiet and rude.

You sit around for 3 days in absolute silence. All the other cells are far away enough that you don’t know who else is kept locked up. The only sounds you hear are footsteps from the floor above and murmurs from the guards. They probably think they’re being quiet but you can still hear everything the pair is saying. Mostly it’s useless gossip. You now know all about who’s fucking who and who slacks off and who is stealing extra portions at dinner.

Every once in a while you hear a murmur about the king. There’s so many rumors about him that you don’t know what to believe. You can trust the guards a little bit more but nothing they say is useful in any way.

“The guy’s fucking weird, friends are too.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s been through fifty chefs at this point. All the food tastes fine but he fires them after one week.”

“We get to eat some exotic shit though.”

“Damn right.”

All you get is the same bowl of porridge three times a day. For dinner there’s two dry slices of beef to accompany the slop. You treasure the meat though. Even if everything tastes the same having protein is a gift. You chew it slowly as if you can pull any kind of flavor out of it.

You don’t know why you’re here. You’ve already been tried for execution twice and it’s likely the third time will be the charm. It’s a miracle you’ve kept your hands this long. Most dogs get put down after their first bite.

—-

By the fifth day the guards have gotten bored enough to bother you. Their swords clang against your door. “Are you awake?”

You don’t answer but they peak through the slot in the door. “Hello? You got hearing problems?”

“No way she does, her ears are fucking giant.”

“Whaddo you think she is?”

“Why the fuck would I know? Maybe some kind of beastkin or an ogre or something.”

“How dumb are you? That’s not what ogres look like.”

While their focus turns away from you, you shrink against the wall. Your appearance has often been debated and you’ve heard just about every comparison by now. With how much you’ve heard about ogres you thought they might not mind your circumstances but they found you too human. Now you exist in a limbo with no race to call home. Even your own mother discarded you.

They murmur about a wide variety of monsters. Even you don’t recognize most of the things they list. For a place devoid of monsters the guards seem to know a lot about them.

—-

Someone slams their fists against your cell. As his face comes into view a short guard reveals himself. His nose is big and his neck is skinny. It reminds you of a bird. In response your stomach growls.

“Hands against the wall.” You obey wordlessly. There’s no point in delaying your death another day.

“You better thank the divine or whatever you believe in. His Majesty wants a personal interview before sending you to the gallows.” He laughs at the end. Though you can’t do much to retaliate a harsh growl scares him for a moment. He slaps you afterwards but it doesn’t hurt much. His hands are strangely thin. It only adds to the bird imagery.

You follow the man with a wide smile. He complains about your fangs but that only makes your mouth open wider. You run your tongue over your sharpest canines.

“Don’t act all high and mighty. You’ll be a dead bitch by the end of the day.”

You’re not smiling about any supposed freedom, it’s just fun to watch his eyes trace your teeth. Will the king react the same? Too many stories go around to know if he’s actually a brave hero or another coward hiding behind fables.

When you enter he looks much less extravagant than he did a few days ago. The lion-skin cloak is gone from his shoulders. A crown sat atop is head but it was a plain band of gold. You still admired how it shined in the low light of the room.

You’re still trying to figure out what you think of the man when the guards leave and you’re left alone.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Laios extends his hand but you ignore it. You keep your eyes pointed at the table now. He should just drag you towards the guillotine and have it over with.

The man seems unperturbed and smiles widely at you.

“Oh and you shouldn’t worry about… dying or anything.” He pulls an odd face that isn’t quite a frown. “We’re all about rehabilitation here- or well it depends, but mostly rehabilitation yes.”

“So you’re gonna give me a job cleaning up shit or something?”

“Probably not, Marcille handles that kind of thing though. The job assigning I mean. She’s very good at it.”

You go quiet again. You’re not sure why the king has to be involved in something as simple as this. He speaks very casually but appearance wise does give off an air of royalty.

As the silence stretches on for a bit too long before Laios takes it as a cue to open his mouth again. “I’m interested in your heritage, if you’ll share. I meant to ask if you were beastkin earlier but I didn’t get an answer!” His eyes light up and you find yourself caught off guard. Usually the people who take interest in you do it for less than honest reasons. Laios hasn’t completely ruled out that possibility but his innocent look does relax you slightly.

“Ah well I don’t really know the full story.” Your mother had barely ever spoken to you about anything, much less your progenitors. “My mother was one, a beastkin. She was a werewolf. I don’t know about my father though.”

“Amazing! I didn’t know beastkin could have children. We’ll have to write to Izutsmi.” He stands up, knocking his chair backwards. Quickly the man crosses over to you. He easily towers over you. The eyes of his lion cape look down on you in judgement. “Can I ask you a few more questions?” He’s growing loud, almost shouting.

“Maybe.” Laios is making a mad dash back towards creepy territory but he still looks rather excited so you push down the feeling.

“Can I see your hands?”

This time you do extend just one. He cradles it for a moment, twisting your wrist and curling your fingers. It’s such a delicate touch. You’ve never had someone hold you without intending to hurt.

Laios’s thumb glides over the thick skin of your palm. “It’s like a paw pad,” he murmurs. You’re glad that he doesn’t mind your silence. As he moves upwards to trace over your nails, claws, you wince. They’re brittle and chipped in some places. Overall they have a strange stripped texture that looks hideous.

“Are they good for digging?” The question catches you so off guard you stifle a laugh.

“I dunno. I’ve never tried… I guess they’re good a tearing through wood though.” Not enough to escape any kind cell of course, but enough to piss off the guards.

“Ah that’s clever!” There’s a lot of firsts happening today. You can’t remember receiving any compliment without a sarcastic undertone spoiling it. It makes your cheeks burn a little but you try to will the feeling away.

Without asking, though honestly you don’t care, his hands trace their way higher up. Laios runs his fingers through the short fur on your forearm. “The color matches your hair, though the texture is a little different.” To confirm he plants a hand on your head, right between your ears. Immediately they flatten while a growl bursts out from your chest. “Sorry.” He pulls back with a sheepish look. “Does that happen instinctually?”

“Usually… sometimes I know why but sometimes it just happens I guess.” Slowly your ears rise back up as his hand lowers.

“If I ask can I touch your ears?” Immediately they flatten again.

“No!” It’s a commanding tone that comes out louder than you intend. There’s a hint of embarrassment but Laios doesn’t look bothered so it quickly fades.

“Your tail?”

It curls around your hips protectively. If you keep saying no will he get violent? Is your death still set in stone? Getting friendly with a king might not be such a bad idea.

“Just the tip of it.” Slowly your tail sticks out to the side. As he approaches it you hold your breath.

“Ah it’s so soft!” He pinches some of the fur between two of fingers. “Does it feel nice?”

“It feels… fine.” It’s like someone petting your hands. The sensation itself is calming though.

He continues on this path for a while. Laios comments on your inhuman features with fascination and listens when you tell him no. When you don’t allow him to measure your tongue or poke his fingers into your ears he happily moves on to another aspect of your canine features.

You’re still debating if his interest in you is flattering or creepy when the king finally seems to tire himself out. Actually one of his attendants knocks softly on the door and Laios wilts. You’re happy to have his hands off you but overall the experience was not entirely unpleasant.

Afterwards you’re brought back to the chilly prison with snarky guards but you carry the warmth from your meeting.

—-

After your third meeting you get moved from the prison to a proper room. It’s still solitary with a guard outside your door but it’s nicer than anywhere else you’ve ever been. The bed is plush and soft. Since you first ran your hands over it you’ve picked up the habit of sleeping nude. People knock properly before entering now and fur covers most of your back.

While you don’t sleep longer you do sleep better. One hour in a huge bed with an actual mattress gives you better sleep than you’ve had in your entire life.

The meals you eat are filling and delicious. You can’t help but scarf them down as quickly as possible. Somewhere in the back of your mind you regret not savoring the food but you can’t help yourself.

The guards are just as rude, seemingly aware of how you first came to the castle. You don’t necessarily expect any better but it does sour the extravagance of everything else.

In between meetings with Laios you stay tucked away in your room. Whenever you leave people narrow their eyes as you pass. The hallways are too confusing and there’s nothing to do anyways. If you don’t have to steal and scrounge around for food you’re happy to laze about. Everything you need is within reasonable distance.

When you do meet with Laios the meetings stretch to be longer. He always seems to find new questions to ask you, rarely repeating asks you’ve already turned down.

If you need breaks between the man counting tufts of fur and measuring the growth of your claws he agrees. Though even when you eat or simply rest in the silence golden eyes observe you intently.

“Can you eat raw meat?” He easily interjects in the middle of a quiet meal.

As with many of his questions you don’t know the answer. You admit the truth sheepishly each time but he accepts your answer.

“If I bring you some will you try it?”

“Maybe…” Your nose twitches at the thought. It can’t be any worse than rotten meat and that didn’t taste half bad either.

—-

Looking forward to your meetings with Laios is an awful thing. He brings you divine food (At least raw meet agrees surprisingly well with your tastebuds) and a few gifts even if they’re thinly veiled things to test you with. You go through a few different physicals, one by an actual doctor, and general trials. Laios makes bold comments about your natural strength and other physical characteristics. It gives you a rather big head.

His questions get a little bolder but after your thirty-fifth bubble bath you’re a little more lenient with what you allow. If he wants to check your ears or count your teeth then you’re happy to allow him.

The whole time Laios’s interest in you was purely based on your characteristics. Some might’ve considered him rude— he had barely asked you any personal questions after all —you liked his open attitude. A few humans had had an interest in your form, though for less strange purposes (or possibly more strange depending on how you looked at it). Though rather than approaching you openly most resorted to tricks or sly words. It made your stomach twist uncomfortable.

Laios was earnest. If he wanted to measure your feet and stride you knew there wasn’t an ulterior motive. It made complying with his requests easier despite how strange they got.

That was perhaps your downfall. Questions got more wild though you knew the reasoning was the same. Once he had asked to measure your tongue, insistent that it looked longer than any human-races. He hand crammed his fingers into your mouth, oddly stroking the wet muscle.

“Do my fingers taste weird? Do you think you’d ever eat a human?” You couldn’t answer with his rough fingertips still tracing your tastebuds.

“Ha your tongue is longer! I wonder if your vocal cords are different too. Kobolds have trouble speaking the common language because of it. Though your speech sounds fine.” While he speaks his fingers slip from your mouth. His hand traces your neck, skimming over your Adam’s apple.

You smack your lips a few times to get the taste of skin out of your mouth. It didn’t taste good or bad (well maybe it was a little bad), just strange.

“Do you want a drink?” Laios hardly looks guilty as he offers you a cup to cleanse your tastebuds. The tangy juice is a welcome change.

“Is that all?” The man tries not to subject you to more than one or two strange requests a day. You haven’t been out long but you’d be surprised if he asked for another odd exploration.

He looks a little disappointed now, as he always does at the end of your meetings. Still he excuses you with a wave of his hand and a small nod.

—-

Laios does not call on you for almost a week, a strange break in your schedule. While your visits are not always daily they happen at least twice a week. The king’s curiosity is never-ending. Though you wonder if he has finally asked all his questions.

You’re hesitant to leave your room, and instead find ways to entertain yourself inside. There are a few books with simple enough language that you can read them. You’re happy to take bathes and sleep to fill up the rest of your time, but admittedly you miss your meetings. Faintly you’re aware of the great power Laios holds over you as a king but he’d also the only man that hasn’t turned his nose down at you. Even with the upgrade in your residence the guards still snicker and sneer when they near you.

You’re awfully bored without him as a companion. In the end books aren’t very entertaining and taking too many baths makes your fur dry. The lack of contact with others drives you to taunt the guards. It created a nice distraction right up until they stopped responding at all.

So when the man finally shows onto your room you nearly leap into his arms. You hope your excitement isn’t too obvious.

Laios enters your room fully, closing the door behind him. He’s oddly quiet and the guards outside your door have been dismissed. “Is it alright if I sit?” He moves to rest at the edge of your bed. The man wears a serious expression but he sinks deeply into your soft mattress.

You struggle to think of what could have the normally cheerful man so quiet. His lips press together into a sharp line. “I have been very glad to have you indulge my questions… Though I believe that they’ve all been answered. I think Marcille is mad at me for letting you stay here so long.” His eyes don’t quite meet your face. Your ears flatten as you realize what he implies.

“I see.” Your disappointment is plain. You barely try to hide it though you feel a bit foolish for growing so comfortable. “Though I’m surprised you quieted your curiosity.” It’s a bad attempt at lightening the mood. Laios reacts strangely, staring resolutely at the floor.

You aren’t particularly good at reading others but the quiet here is like whispering in your ear. “Or you have found someone else to aim your questions at?” The idea doesn’t quite hit its mark. Laios responds much too openly.

“Ah no. Most people just get angry at me.” He looks very sad about it and you find yourself caring too much. You almost ask him to visit but that is much too forward. It’s more likely you will skip town and find another place to get arrested.

“Right well… I am glad you’ve told me in person.” The words sound lame. It’s not a proper goodbye.

Laios still doesn’t move. He seems comfortable in your bed. You would rather be the one sitting but you don’t want to move too close.

“I have… I have more questions truthfully, but I don’t think you would want to answer them.”

You blink. “I have answered them so far haven’t I?”

“Marcille scolds me for being too open. If she knew what I wanted to ask I’m sure she’d curse me.”

You stifle a laugh. “Most others would already considered my virtue compromised. I don’t think I had any in the first place.” Even as a theif you are aware of how people gossip. Whether you are a vagrant or a peasant little will change others view of you.

It takes you a moment but you gather all the maturity within yourself. “I’m happy to go, but you should not let others decide what I will be comfortable with.”

“I’m sure you’ll be mad.”

“Well I’m often mad so that’s fine.”

Laios’s shoulders relax and you’re sure he’ll ask another question of you.

—-

You stand nude. It’s more embarrassing than you expected. For all your criminal activity you’ve never been convicted for public nudity. Even on the rare occasions you’ve been observed naked it wasn’t as if the observer had any interest in you. Usually they were simply kicking you out of a bathhouse or spare room you tucked yourself into.

“There’s no fur on your stomach!” Laios in all his excitement forgets to ask before placing his hand over the area. The temperature difference pushes a weird noise from your throat. His hand is large, it covers half your skin. “Does it just not grow there?”

You struggle to respond. Laios looks at you with no issue but you feel… shy. Maybe for the first time in your life.

“Y-yea. It’s like that on my face and feet too.”

“I noticed that too. Isn’t it funny that plenty of humans grow hair one their faces but you don’t?” He has a strange idea of what funny is. You offer a tight smile and he seems satisfied by the reaction.

Laios finally takes his hand off your stomach. The skin there tingles in the aftermath.

“D-do you…” For the first time ever Laios looks embarrassed himself.

Encouraging him may be a bad idea but you urge him on cautiously. “It’s ok, you can ask.”

“I got yelled at last time.” The man scratches his head. “How many-“ he mumbles the last bit, “-nipples do you have?”

Your mouth drops open in surprise. Your face ignites in embarrassment and indigence.

“I-I’m asking because most animals have multiple! Even minotaurs have four. I mean you’re already naked.” At the reminder you’re quick to hold an arm over your breasts.

“Just the two… sorry.”

Laios does look slightly disappointed. “Your reproductive system is probably more similar to a humans. If you’re only having one or two kids at a time then that would make sense.” His eyes trace over your stomach again. It’s like he had x-ray vision.

The man stops touching you, instead walking around your entire body. He circles you four or five times. When he dips around your back you focus to make sure your tail stays still.

The appendage keeps lifting up and to the side. Once you noticed it you had tried your best to stop the behavior, but unless you focused on your tails actions it tended to move on its own.

Laios, as observant as always, notices. “Your tail does some funny things! I grew up with dogs so some of the behavior is familiar to me.” You don’t particularly enjoy the comparison.

“It just does what it wants most of the time. Most of it is random I think.” Your tail doesn’t exactly wag when you’re happy. About half of the time it agrees with you. Right now it’s an annoyance.

“I should’ve been keeping track better.” Laios sounds sorely disappointed in himself. His hand ghosts over the fur and then goes in closer. The way he suddenly holds your hips startles you. A disgrungtled noise escapes your lips. The odd squeak makes your cheeks burn.

“Sorry.” He releases you quickly enough but you stay in place. “Am I making you uncomfortable? We can be done.”

“It’s fine.” You should crawl into a hole and die but you doubt you can move.

“Are you sure?” He lingers behind you, hand hovering an inch or two away.

You have to answer through gritted teeth. “Yes.” When his hand goes back to your hip you don’t know whether you should stiffen or relax.

Laios stands closer now. Your back occasionally brushes against his chest. The only bothersome part is that your tail is squished upwards. It’s not painful but it is highly uncomfortable.

“What are you doing now?”

“Just feeling, it’s good to do that sometimes.” His hands move with purpose. They trace up your hips and under your arms. It’s quiet except for his breathing that warms the back of your neck.

“The difference between fur and your actual hair is interesting.” Laios brushes against your scalp but doesn’t comb through it. You’re glad, his clumsy fingers would just tangle it. “The fur sheds right?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?!” He runs a thumb over your neck, where your fur starts to grow in.

“Just a little I guess. It’s bits and pieces until the summer when it gets worse.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Itchy… and I ruin all my clothes.”

“Are you- do you turn, naked? O-or does the fur grow in thinner?”

“Thinner fur most places, but on my chest and neck I loose it completely.” You hide from his gaze as it shifts down to the area. You want to scold him for staring but you find it more embarrassing than something you’re truly uncomfortable with.

Laios scratches absentmindedly along the slope of your shoulder. His eyes narrow with concentration until thin flecks of grey pull free. The man seems pleased with the strands of fur that he’s pulled out. His eyes flicker back to your chest.

“You can touch it.” You have no idea what propelled you to say that but the words have already left your mouth. Afterwards you can’t do much except bite your tongue.

There’s such excitement in Laios’s eyes. “Can I really?” His hands are already poised to grope you. It’s almost off-putting but you nod your head.

His hands cup your breasts gently. Surprisingly you don’t have to hold back any noises or shudders. The warmth of his skin is pleasant but your fur dampens any erotic sensations. Laios squeezes, glances at your face, then squeezes again slightly harder. You frown slightly, if anything the handling is a little uncomfortable.

“That doesn’t feel good?” The man sounds slightly surprised. Almost immediately his hands fall back to his sides.

“Um, it feels fine. You can keep going if you want.” Most of your shyness disappears with the lackluster touch.

He’s blushing now, a pretty addition of color. “I want to figure out what makes you feel good…”

You don’t know how to respond. Laios is nice to you. His hands are sometimes a little too rough, but they’re warm. “Like, sex?” You’re embarrassed again.

For the first time you’re the one to surprise Laios. His mouth opens and then clamps it shut. “If that’s something you’re- uh, interested in.”

You took a long minute to consider if this was what you wanted. Something you were “interested” in. Laios had… technically, imprisoned you, or at least his laws led to the guards imprisoning you. But he was also a handsome and honest. His face was stained red as you stared at him intensely.

“Ok.” It was unlikely an opportunity like this would arise again. Sex wasn’t at the top of your bucket list but you didn’t want to give up the chance to actually enjoy yourself.

Laios seemed surprised again by your response. He didn’t move any closer for another minute or two. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he stumbled in your direction. One large hand moved to your hip.

“I’m not actually an expert.” Laios coughed into his hand. “So let me know if… somethings wrong.” It was unclear what that implied but you nodded dutifully.

After a deep breath the man moved in to kiss you. You were surprised that he chose a more innocent and soft action to begin with. You expected your hands to go right to your ass. His lips were clumsy but your own were as unfamiliar with the movements of a kiss.

The blond wastes lots of time exploring your body. His hands run up and down your stomach. They dip down to your thighs but don’t quite reach your pussy.

You pull Laios back until you bump into the table, sitting down on it. Your hands remain wrapped in his shirt. You’re not sure where else to put them.

When the man pulls back you feel slightly shy again. His eyes go straight to your cunt now that there’s no reason to avoid the area. The first touches are hesitant. Once the man is more sure of himself his thumb runs over your labia and spreads the lips apart. Your hairless center is exposed to his eyes. The cool air makes your quivering muscles tighten and relax.

Laios notices your slight wetness. His lips twitch excitedly. The man’s actions get more bold. His finger dips into your warm cunt. It’s thick and even a single digit spreads your hole wide open.

Both of you look down breathless as his finger thrusts in and out gently. Your foreheads bump together which prompts your eyes meet briefly.

“Does it feel good?”

“U-um it’s fine I guess.” The finger itself isn’t uncomfortable, but Laios’s pink face and his breath against your cheeks is much nicer. A sudden urge to kiss him strikes you again but you hesitate. Though the man is exploring your naked body the idea of gentle touching feels much more intimate.

He moves forward to sink the entirety of his finger inside of you. It’s still an odd feeling of just the right amount but nowhere near enough. Though once the digit is planted firmly inside your core it wiggles around slightly to rub against your walls.

More wetness slips from your core. It sticks to Laios’s finger and dries sticky on your thighs. The slick is enough to smooth the way for a second finger. This stretches your walls slightly but other than a heavy breath you manage not to react.

Laios is focused. His other hand grips your hips tightly. You barely wiggle but each time you shift his hand twitches at your side. The man’s head is tilted so far down it almost collides with your chest. You don’t need to see his eyes to know exactly where they’re pointed.

Eventually his fingers pull free from your hole. You expect him to try for a third but there’s too long of a pause. His actions are somewhat obscured. Though his hand becomes visible once more as it raises to his lips.

“That’s- That’s-“ You don’t know what else to say as the man licks his fingers. He dips his tongue in between them to get every drop of your slick.

“It’s a strange taste.” He laughs and you’re horrified. “Salty…”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from scolding him. Instead you try to focus on the feelings more. Laios’s fingers go back in between your legs and thats much better.

There’s more exploration and it’s nice.

“Can I use my mouth?” The man sounds so excited. He smiles wide and continues to pet your walls gently.

You shake more. “Do… do people do that?” You know what sex is but some of the finer details escape your knowledge.

This time you finally manage to catch Laios off guard. His cheeks are a very pretty pink. “I’ve… read about it.” You’re not sure if you’re inclined to put your faith in his literary knowledge.

“If you bite me I’ll… rip your tongue off.” It’s a lame threat that rings hollow. Laios smiles weakly and kneels down. His hands pry your thighs even further apart so his head can sit between them.

“It’s warm,” he mumbles. You’re not expected to respond to it. Laios’s lips near your cunt and you resist the urge to shove him away or cry.

When they touch the outer lips of your labia you breathe out heavily. The feeling is almost ticklish as you tremble. Though as Laios pushes against you harder the arousal comes back. His lips are much softer than his fingers were. They’re soft and slow against the entrance of your core.

His tongue reveals itself and you bend over into his head. The feeling is wet and smooth as Laios sinks into your cunt further. He takes the map born from his fingers and retraces it with his lips. You weave your fingers into his hair and can’t decide where to guide him. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips without anything to stop their exit.

“W-wait I’ll-“ You’re familiar with the idea of an orgasm. Though the feeling pushing through your gut is frightening you know where it ends. It urges your thighs to squeeze Laios’s head and keep him in place. Your hips rock into the strokes of his tongue.

The man himself eagerly continues. He doesn’t mind how you try to suffocate him or the strange moans you let out.

Laios keeps his tongue inside of you even after your orgasm. His strokes are much softer now but you continue to twitch with overstimulation. You keep your hands in his hair to try and stable yourself.

The man laps at your cunt until he’s satisfied himself with the taste of it. He pulls away, cheeks and lips shiny and wet. His eyes are half-lidded and still focused on your core.

You slump backwards, breathless. Whining you push him backwards. He sits backwards on the floor and you’re slightly pleased to see his erection underneath his pants.

Laios scrambles upwards and hesitantly stands in front of you. He seems unsure of how to proceed.

“G-give me a second and then we can…” You’re unsure if he wants to fuck you properly or if his mouth was the end goal.

“Did it feel good?” The man looks slightly embarrassed but he seems pleased too.

“Yes.” You break eye-contact. There’s a very pretty pillar in the corner. The bottom of it twists into ornate curls.

Laios draws closer to tower over you once more. “I’m glad.” He pats your head gently and moves his hand to cradle your cheek.

You push past the gentle moment and move forward. Laios seems surprised when you move to tug at his waistband but he lets you drag it down. The shape of his cock is a little more clear through just his boxers. It’s plump and you don’t have anything to compare it to but the size is nice as well. The thought of putting it… well it’s not so large you’re frightened.

Before you reveal his cock to your eyes you glance upwards. “Take your shirt off.” It feels better if he strips off the rest of his clothes before revealing himself. You find a moment to breathe in the seconds it takes for the man to pull off the other layers he wears.

There is a good amount of muscle barely hidden under fine layers of fat. It is clear he is well fed. You find yourself jealous of his figure.

“Alright, underwear now.” If Laios will listen to your orders then you are content to watch. He slips his boots off and steps out of his pants. The man shows no shyness as he pulls his underwear off. You are the one who stares now.

Again you have never truly seen a cock. Glimpses of nude old men on the streets were not pleasurable nor sufficient. Laios is young and handsome which extends even between his legs.

“Can I touch?” You have the common sense to ask first though your hand is already moving forward.

With a nod you cradle his length in your palm. It’s warm and heavy, alive. You wrap your fingers around it, what you think is an acceptable tightness. Laios’s breath deepens and he leans towards you. His chest is warm against your shoulder. Each sigh echoes against your head.

Mostly you just feel his cock. You don’t have much intent on getting him off like this. Watching him twitch and shudder is entertaining enough. You spread your legs further apart and urge him forward.

Laios breathes heavily against your shoulder. “Sorry I might be bad… I’ve never done this part before.” You have to stifle a laugh and pull him closer still.

“Go slow.” You let the man position you, pushing and shifting until you’re a perfect display. You try your best to stay still but your legs shake slightly.

His cock is much scarier when it’s positioned right at your entrance. Though Laios is still slightly clumsy, gripping your arm much too tight, he takes his time moving. The head of his dick is suddenly right at your entrance. Both of you are once again staring right at your cunt. Your view is slightly worse but that makes the feeling even more intense.

The stretch isn’t as bad as you expect. There’s a soft pain but with gritted teeth you ignore it. Laios does his best to get you used to the stimulation, rocking slowly. He only plants himself a few inches in for now.

Though it’s clear the man has to restrain himself. He breathes very heavily. His grip on you was impossibly tight before but now you’re sure bruises will bloom tomorrow. You’re forced still to let Laios take control.

He finally plants himself inside of you fully and nearly crashes into your arms. You guide his hands around your waist and wrap your own around his neck. For a moment there’s reprieve. Laios shifts slightly but doesn’t attempt any big movements. A minute or two passes where you both simply breathe.

Very slowly he tries a thrust, pulling out only an inch or two before sinking back in. You let out a pathetic whine and bury your face into his shoulder. He repeats the movements a few times, pushing another small whine from your throat.

You don’t do much except hold onto Laios’s shoulders as he builds up a momentum. It is very gradual but you find yourself still startled each time there is an imperceptible shift in speed. The pace grows until a horrible squelch sounds from your bodies pressing together and pulling apart. Sweat makes your skin shiny and sticks weird to your fur.

Laios doesn’t struggle with the fast movements. His muscles are much more obvious in action. You did not care much for a sturdy man when they only used their strength to subdue you. As a support however you are happy to have him to lean on. There isn’t much else to ground you.

You let out an embarrassing chain of whimpers and more dog-like noises. Laios’s hand cradles your throat ever so gently. “I- hah, I still wonder what your v-vocal cords are like.” The casual statement coupled with his breathless voice and cock buried deep inside you is a horrible combination. You feel horrified as your cunt squeezes tighter. Laios shouldn’t be charming but you don’t hate his stupid… everything. You certainly don’t hate anything about him right now.

Once you catch your breath you force the man to kiss you again. His big mouth is much more bearable when it’s occupied. If he wasn’t fucking you right now you’d force him to use it once more.

His hand is off your neck but it hasn’t stopped traveling. It stops over your uterus. Very faintly he can feel how his dick shapes your insides. Though his true goal lies slightly lower. It does not take long for Laios to find your clit and promptly attack it.

At first his actions are slightly too aggressive but after a moment or two he finds a gentler movement.

All your focus falls to your cunt. Despite both of you being beginners to this activity Laios shows great talent. Once his fingers attached themselves to you the end was near.

You’re not sure if it’s good to try and warn the man once more of your climax. Your tongue is thick and slow. Instead all you can do is offer another kiss and fall into the feeling of pleasure.

Laios only overstimulates you for a thrust or two. He pulls out of you slowly, and takes his cock in his own hand. Within a few jerks of his wrist the man releases onto your thigh. You are too tired to complain, instead content to rest your head on his shoulder. Your companion does the same. He leans against the desk and falls into your form.

For a moment you share heavy breaths and slow caresses. Finally Laios clears his throat. “There’s probably a rag here somewhere.” He goes to full away but you let your claws prick his flesh.

“Stay.” It’s pleasing to have a king listen to your commands. He now shifts to come closer, lingering between your legs. You pull your head back, only enough to see his face. It’s pink and shiny with sweat but still rather attractive. Peeking downwards you mean to study his physique. Instead you notice the fur you’ve shed. Quickly enough you look back upwards to avoid any more embarrassment.

You’re entirely unsure of what to do now. The sex was good… but you had no idea if this was just another version of his odd questions. For a moment you feared he might still wish to cast you out.

Laios squeezed your hips gently. The movement was likely meant to be loving but it startled you upwards. Your forehead smacked against his chin and both of you let out a groan of pain.

You didn’t know whether to whine or laugh. Instead a weird combination of the two popped out of your mouth. It prompted a small smile from Laois, whose cheeks grew even redder.

The small exchange smoothed out the awkward air. You pulled away from Laios fully and ignored the cold air against your stomach and chest.

“You can stay, as long as you’d like by the way.” He leans in more.

“Ah, so was this all a trick to keep me here.” You’ve never been one to make jokes but you manage a cheeky smile.

“I-it wasn’t! You can go if you want.” He moves to back up but you’re quick to snatch his wrist.

“I’ll stay.”

[modernelites-if]

Modern Elites is a 18+ raunchy slice-of-life IF that follows you, a young royal, navigating the world of the obscenely rich and immensely famous while trying to keep your elite, royal family together in the midst of drama and tabloids.

Setting: modern times, fictional tiny country of Selusa, New York, Paris and more.

Genre: slice-of-life, drama, romance

Celebrity. Pop Culture Icon. Heir.

Royal.

As the heir to the Selusan throne, you're known by many names. Growing under the spotlight hasn't been easy, especially since it seems the vultures all want a piece of your elusive family. Country clubs, yachts, parties, private jets, elite schools, you've had it all.

But is there something missing?

Customize your heir from appearance to gender identity to personality. Dictate what kind of person they are: rebellious, dutiful. Do they care about the royal line or are parties more on their mind? Will you keep a squeaky clean rep or ruin the family name?

Customize Salusa and cater the country to your taste.

Dictate what kind of leader you want to be, and how others percieve you.

Experience the life of the hidden .01% and the drama of the ultra wealthy.

Engage in fiery, dramatic romances that could either uplift or ruin you and your family.

and more to come.

THE ADVISOR

Imogen/Ian Lancaster [f/m]- your family's advisor and publicist. I has cleaned up every mess, every leak, every scandal and at this point, there are no secrets between your family and them. Coming from a well-off family themselves, they know exactly how this world works...and they navigate it with a steel will and a cold, detached demeanor. I has you handled like an adult with a child, trying (and probably failing) to keep you in line. Anything you do will go through them, so it's better to think twice.

THE BETROTHED

Everett/Eva St. Clare [m/f] - the eldest of one of the most influential businessmen on your side of the world, black sheep, and a source of gossip in polite society, there have been talks of a betrothal between you two since the partnership started. Because of that, you two are forced into a fake romance for the cameras. E is an arrogant and brash casanova, sex-obsessed, and is proudly noncommital with string of rumors that follow them like their own entourage. Unfortunately for you, E's exploits can damage the carefully constructed facade you two have built. Of course, E doesn't give a damn.

THE REBEL

Vince/Vivian De Grasso [m/f] - (secretly) fresh out of jail and newly reformed (not) V's politician of a mother has asked in a favor from your family: to reform them and stifle their rebellious ways by adding them to your security detail. Your father having a soft spot for the kid, brings them in as one of your guards. Hopefully V keeps in line...or not.

THE COMMONER

Cordelia/Corden Bowen [f/m]- an employee at the country club you frequent, someone less polite would call them a 'nobody.' C has a bit of an attitude, but that's expected from someone who is used to getting berated by rich people all day. There's not much else to say about them...or maybe there is?

THE JOURNALIST

Romi Marshall [m/f]- a famed journalist with contempt for royalty and elitism. Their newsletters frequently slam you and your family's every move, and they don't like you one bit. You can confidently say they're your biggest hater.

THE ROYAL BEST FRIEND

Oliver/Olivia Ames-Astor [m/f]- a fellow prince/princess from another country and your best friend, who is still hung up on their ex. Forced to betroth someone else, O has so many problems you can hardly sort through them. Still, they're kind and as polite as you'd expect from a person who has had etiquette lessons drilled into them since childhood. They're also your best friend, so there's that.

[gingerteawrites]

BY THE HEARTH: CRACKLE

A/N: Welcome back for yet another installment of by the hearth!! As always please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Let's goooo. Read the previous part here.

Content: Royalty!AU, Nanami x female reader, king Nanami, Princess Y/N, Widower Nanami, Toddler Yuuji, hurt, angst. Not beta read

Word count: ~5.5K words (they keep getting longer...)

Banner by: @cafekitsune

ACT IX

Nanami was a man of habit. As he did every night, he peeled away his royal garments and changed into a long chemise and loose trousers. Then sat on the cushioned chair of the small study attached to his room.

Following his evening routine usually brought so much peace to the man. A time to unwind, sort through his thoughts. And most importantly, remind himself he was in control. But alas, this control was slowly slipping through his fingers. Fluttering away in the direction of you.

Opening up the notebook that served as journal, he brought his quill close to the paper. The pages were filled with mundane phrases, recounting the outcome of a meeting. Reflecting on new policies. Or on occasion, excited tales of new milestone in Yuuji’s development.

He sat there for several minutes, willing himself to write something that followed this usual pattern. Something that fit in the well-drawn lines of his ordinary days.

But his mind was only able to compute suggestions of you. The way your smile shone so brightly when you danced together. The fire in your eyes when you spoke to the people. The feel of you in his arms as you twirled by the blaze.

Nanami dropped the quill with a sigh. This was not going to do. He feared that if he forced himself, the only thing he would be able to pen down would be your name.

This is not good. At all. This world that he had carefully crafted to protect Yuuji, and most importantly protect himself was crumbling. And you were the culprit.

Fraught with frustration, he closed the book and headed to the giant bed. Still, his mind, that was not his to hold anymore kept wandering. And a repressed part of his being started to wonder. How would it feel to hold your hand. To truly have you. To kiss your lips…

Except he had already done the latter. That dreadful wedding day. The thought of it makes him groan, and that same repressed part of his being wished he could go back and fix things. Maybe offer a reassuring smile to your then trembling self. But it was too late for that. He shifted under the covers, shaking his head as if to shake the thoughts themselves out.

Sleep. I need to sleep.

The large study always seemed like a peaceful place. With its mahogany shelves lined with historical records. And the imposing desk behind which the king was sat. Yes, Nanami felt in his element in this room. He was the king, and the king could not allow himself to be troubled by trivial affections. He flipped through the pages of the proposed budget that the royal advisors had produced. But his focus was interrupted by a timid knock on the door.

The royal counsellor pushed in. Ichiji always seemed on edge, his thin body tucked into itself. But as he approached, the king noticed his advisor seemed even more nervous than usual.

Nanami raised a brow when the man stopped in front of the table. ”I am not expecting anyone today,” he flipped through another page, his eyes returning to the tedious document.

“I know, your majesty,” the words tumbled out hastily, “but our guest today is one I cannot turn away easily-”

He had not even gotten around to announce the name of this guest when two men barged in. The sound of guards arguing and trying to hold them back filled the room, but Nanami raised a hand in quiet dismissal.

Duke Gojo’s smirk was wider than usual, flanked by his courtier, ever the shadow of the white-haired aristocrat.

He plopped in the chair across from the king, who silently watched his actions. It was customary that people of lower rank extend greetings first, but the man before him purposefully stretched the silence. After a few moments, he finally bowed his head.

“Your Majesty,” the duke’s tone was far from reverent. From the corner of his eye, the king could see the ebony-haired courtier bow as well. “What a pleasure it is to see you after so long.”’

“Duke Gojo, It is good to see you have returned.” The words were mere pleasantries, devoid of any sense of sincerity. “I trust your tour in the province went well.”

“Oh quite well indeed,” he sat back, relaxed into the chair.

The duke was a fascinating man. Irritating and grating beyond belief to some, and the object of blind adoration to others. While he did not hate the man, Nanami had grown tired of his lack of consideration for customs, and constant antagonistic attitude.

Despite the duchy's history of hunger for power and strife with the royal family, their sole heir did not seem interested in the throne. He was more concerned with living without regard for conventions, which was its own problem. The one thing that Nanami’s father, the late king, had always expressed relief over was how lucky he was that the Gojo heir was a boy. Otherwise the crown would not have been in a position to refuse a political marriage between the two.

But then again Nanami found himself wrapped in another political marriage.

“Though I must say,” Satoru tapped his fingers on the material of his expensive trousers. “I am quite disappointed that I have not had the chance to introduce myself to our new queen.”

Nanami’s brows immediately furrowed. Gojo Satoru was not one to entertain pleasantries just for pleasantry’s sake. You interested him, and that unnerved the king. What was this feeling?

“I hear she made quite the impression at the festival’s opening…” He dragged on, and Nanami closed the file was holding firmly.

“So what is the purpose of you barging into my study, Satoru?” Gojo smirked.

“Addressing me by my first name, now isn’t that unusual…” He turned to Geto with an expression beyond amused. “If I could venture to guess, I would say the king does not like me talking about his darling wife.” The courtier sighed under his breath, looking straight ahead. Provocation was the Duke’s favorite game, and Geto was not willing to participate.

“If you inserted yourself in my schedule to waste my time, you will be escorted outside the palace grounds.” Nanami leveled him with a stern look, and Satoru raised his hands defensively. But the amused glint did not entirely leave his eyes.

“Alright, alright, no need to kick me out, your majesty,” He stretched his hand out, a silent invitation for Suguru to hand him a sizeable batch of documents. Gojo leaned over and placed them on the table before the king, whose sole response was a raised brow.

“Though the aristocracy seems to think my time away from the capital is spent slipping from one woman’s bed to another,” Gojo began, holding a hand to his chest dramatically “I actually do quite the investigative work.” His eyes returned to the king with a smile, who crossed his arms over his chest.

“And what is the subject of these investigative efforts?” He asked, making no move to read the documents placed before him. But he could already tell there were reports. Other things slipped out of the bundle, though. Receipts, permits, letters.

“The question is who, your majesty,” he corrected with a wag of his finger. “Things in the South have been getting more and more unstable, that is no secret.” He sighed, expression now turning serious. “And the duchy has considerable investments in that region, so it was only fitting for me to have a look. These papers here,” he pointed at the pile on the desk “Contain a comprehensive record of activities of what I believe is someone or multiple people in the royal court funding the rebel uprisings.”

Nanami’s eyes narrowed. Of course, after hearing Haibara’s reports he knew something was off about this conflict. The insurgencies kept popping up, even when the knights seemed to have wiped out the bases. And those who fought were either poor people who lived by the border and mercenaries. There were a lot of possible benefits to destabilizing such a profitable area, but for it to come from inside? The king’s jaw clenched.

“I will review all of this information,” Nanami finally pulled the documents towards himself. The nobles always tried to defend their own interests. And he couldn’t entirely blame them for that. Afterall, the royal family operates on protecting itself most of the time. But such insubordination was way beyond justification. His expression turned deadly, and even Gojo’s smirk faltered at the sight. He had to set an example. And uproot this problem.

“Thank you for the information,” the king conceded.

Gojo stood from the chair, giving another bow “The things I do for this kingdom.”

“Your majesty,” Geto finally approached the table and bowed again, “We can also provide you with more details concerning what our informants have found, at your request.” The king nodded and voiced his thanks before the pair left.

The dull ache of an incoming headache was already beating at his temples when Nanami pulled the documents closer. And with every paper he sifted through, so did quiet fury simmer.

It was late afternoon when he called out from his office. “Get me Haibara!” Startled, poor Ichiji scurried away to fulfill the order. Whoever was behind this was going to get hell for it.

Having returned from the flower festival, you remember falling asleep with a stomach full of butterflies. He said he adored your speech. Somewhere, a voice in your mind screamed out about wanting him to adore you.

You pressed your face into the pillows, groaning deeply. You could not become greedy.

Wishing for anything more than what was given would only hurt you. Your dreams were filled of images of the king, of the depth of his eyes and closeness that set your heart alight.

But the king had left. You were fully awake, eyes scanning through the paper you held for the nth time.

[I will be away for a time. Please inform Alma of anything that you may need. Kento Nanami]

Your mind raced with questions. If he had left in such a haste, something must have been terribly wrong. He certainly would not do such a thing on a whim, would he? Had you done something to upset him?

You barely had the time to figure out how to overthink the situation, when Riko burst into your quarters. The prince was sick. The maid responsible to getting him ready, Kuroi took note of a burning fever while dressing him, and the child fainted soon after, inducing panic in the experienced woman.

“He is such a healthy child, I do not even recall the last time he was sick,” Alma rambled while you hurried over his room, instructing a guard to find the palace doctor.

You found Yuuji laying in his bed, round cheeks flushed a deep pink and eyes closed wearily in restless sleep. Your heart ached at the sight. Seeing one who always jumped around with so much energy in this state was startling. And you soon found a permanent place by his bedside.

Days had passed, and your position had not changed. You wrung a small towel in the basin of cool water that laid on the night stand and wiped at the child’s forehead and neck, watching his breath shudder at the sensation of the cold towel against his burning skin. A small whimper followed and you cooed gently.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, touching your fingers against his cheek. He opened his eyes, look unfocused, before closing them again. The sight hurt you even more, wishing you could take the pain away. “Are you okay, baby?”

He took in several heavy breaths, seeming to not fully comprehend the words that left your mouth. You recalled the doctor’s words when he had arrived that first night.

He shows symptoms of the smallpox, your majesty. Though not fatal, he might struggle to regain his strength for a few weeks.

The doctor instructed that only those who had suffered from the infection before could take care of Yuuji, which eliminated the head maid and the Kuroi. You on the other hand, still had remembered how a short smallpox episode had wracked your body as a child. So you stayed by his side, adamant about being the one to care for him.

You wrung the towel of the cold water again, pressing it over Yuuji’s skin in a soothing motion.

His lips parted, “Mama?”

The simple word left your frozen in place. Oh no.

The fever probably made him delirious, he is confusing me for his mother.

While still deciding how to tell him he was mistaken, his hand reached over and his small fingers closed around the fabric of your dress.

“Can you… Lie down with me?” he pushed out with difficulty, and you lost the heart to correct the boy.

“Alright, my darling,” your hand brushed his cheek and you placed the towel down. As soon as you circled to the other side of the bed and climbed in, Yuuji clung to your side, resting his head against your chest. He seemed to relax into what was finally a restful sleep.

You breathed out a slight relief, but sleep would not find you. Your mind drifted back to the departure of the king. Certainly if he knew Yuuji was this sick, he would have hurried back. You had written a note be sent to him immediately after finding out the child fainted.

You had chosen to keep news of the prince’s sickness to only those who had initially found out. Unwarranted attention was the last thing you needed.

Pushing the thoughts aside, you told yourself that it was fine. If you could not even deal with a few days in the king’s absence, what kind of queen would you be? What you needed to focus on now was ensuring the prince was okay. Yuuji would be okay.

Wasn’t this part of the deal agreeing to be his mother? You held the boy closer.

Just getting to the Southern port city had taken a week. One long, exhausting week as the king rode undercover with some of the knights, only taking short breaks to eat and sleep. And one week of sleeping in the woods and being separated from his family was enough to put him in a sour mood.

They reached the Gojo estate, where they had opted to stay rather than the royal residence by the beach. The last thing the king wanted was people knowing he was here. Even so, Nanami did not like the idea of having to rely on the Duke. Who knew what favor the man would feel entitled to after this?

He turned to Ichiji, the only person informed of the king’s sudden departure along with Alma and you.

“I need you to make me a list of all the aristocrats with sizeable investments in this region,” he spoke, taking off his soiled outer garments “Funding an insurrection cannot be untraceable.”

Ichiji nodded, leaving for the town with a knight in tow. All the businesses would be asked to produce tax records and investor information, which the king intended to compare with the royal records. Something was terribly off, and Nanami would not wait until things took a catastrophic turn before acting.

“Haibara,” he called, and the head knight entered the room that served as office and bedchamber, closing the door behind him.

“Yes, your majesty,” he bowed in response. He knew not to tease the king when he was so on edge. “Take me to the prisoners captured from the previous uprising.” The king rose, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.

Haibara’s eyes widened slight, “We just got here, your majesty, you need to rest. And they have not yet been put on trial-”

“I said, take. me. there.” the chill of his tone shut the head knight up, who resorted to nodding tersely. Haibara felt bad for whoever was going to be on the receiving end of the king’s wrath.

Nanami’s knuckles were covered in blood, his sleeves neatly folded above his forearms. He moved his head from side to side, neck cracking as he circled the man sitting in the center of the cell. The royal guards in charge of guarding the prison watched in horror. They had never seen their even-keeled king in such a state.

He eventually came to sit on a small wooden chair facing the prisoner. The one whom all the others Nanami had “questioned” pointed as the leader of the movement, who had supposedly organized everything and gave out orders.

“I am not going to ask another time,” his voice was low. But only an idiot would believe that its quietness was indicative of anything but pure fury. He had been in this God-forsaken place for a five days now. Five more days away from his home. His patience was running very thin. “Name,” he grabbed a towel, wiping his hands in preparation for another round. The man facing him looked up, terror evident in his swollen eyes. “And location of your master.”

A few beats of silence passed. Nanami extended his hand towards Haibara, and was handed a knife. He sighed.

“I hate having to repeat myself,” he approached the prisoner, casting a looming shadow of him. “But by the end of this, you will be the one begging for me to stop.”

Three weeks had passes since the king left, and the prince’s health was finally starting to look up. You were utterly exhausted, having watched over the sore flares and nights of difficult fever. But above all, you were so proud of Yuuji for pushing through every moment of it.

The doctor returned for his nth examination, looking over the child’s condition with relief painting his features.

“The worst has passed. He just needs to eat, drink enough, and rest. The young prince is well on the right way to regain his strength,” You thanked the doctor, who thanked you in return for all the effort you spent.

You returned to the child’s side, running your fingers along his arm. Noting the small scars left behind by the rash that had littered his skin.

“You fought so bravely, Yuuji,” you whispered, leaning down to leave a kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure papa is so proud of you.”

You had still not heard news from the king, now convinced that the note you sent never reached its destination. There was no way he would have learned that and not come back. Right?

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a small pout. “Papa is proud?” his voice was almost back to its usual vitality. You brought a hand to his cheek. “Yes, my darling, so proud.”

“Where is papa?” he asked again. “I want to see him.”

“He’ll be back real soon okay? He’s away on very important business.” You pushed his hair out of his face. “Here, you must be hungry? Alma made your favorite,” you walked to the small table behind you, grabbing the tray of food.

“You should eat too,” the child retorted when you sat down. He had noticed the way you never left his side. There was no way you could have eaten enough in that time.

“Okay, okay,” you nodded, knowing he wouldn’t eat until you conceded. “We eat both then.”

You brought the soup-filled spoon to Yuuji’s lips, who parted them without protests. Eventually, he grabbed the spoon, insisting on feeding you too. You compromised on you taking a bite for every five that he did, to which he begrudgedly agreed. Soon enough, he was well-fed and fast asleep.

You were putting the bowl away when a loud knock sounded at the door. You frowned, recalling having ordered the maids to try to be as quiet as possible around the child’s quarters. Still, you stood and headed for the door, grabbing the tray so whoever was knocking could help return it to the kitchen.

“Your majesty,” Riko rushes the moment your face appeared from behind the large door. “Alma says someone very important is here, and refuses to leave until he sees the king. He’s waiting in the courtyard”

Your brows furrowed, “Who is this person?”

You were convinced Nanami had not told many people about his departure. You had hoped for a swift return, and maybe even a word that he was well, but nothing. Radio silence. Still, you wanted to trust that he was alright.

“I apologize, I do not know your majesty. Usually counsellor Ichiji deals with these things if the king is busy. But he is nowhere to be found. Alma told me to just come find you and not worry about the king, he’s just resting. But his majesty never neglects official duty like this! Is he also sick? Oh no, that’s a terrible omen-” The maid's spiral was paused by your hand on her shoulder.

“Amanai,” you called softly, and she looked up. “Everything is fine, I will see to this issue. I won’t be long but I want you to stay around in case Yuuji wakes up and needs something.” You finally stepped out of the room. “And one more thing,” you watched Riko take your place behind the door “Not a word to anyone about any of this, understood?”

The young maid nodded with pursed lips, and you walked away in the direction of the courtyard, trying to smooth out some of the wrinkles on your dress. You had not met with anyone who did not live on palace grounds in three weeks, even sending Shoko a letter that you were feeling unwell to justify the absence. And you knew you certainly looked as tired as you felt.

On any other day, you would not have allowed yourself to be seen in any sort of disheveled manner. But the palace needed you, so you raised your head trudged forward.

As soon as you step foot in the court yard, the sight of a figure surrounded by royal guards came into view.

“Your majesty,” Marquess Kamo greeted from behind the guards who blocked the path. “It is such a pleasure to see you again.” His tone was saccharine sweet, the same one he had used at the ball for introductions.

“Marquess Kamo,” you greeted, not having the energy to muster anything beyond a polite smile. “I trust the guards have informed you of the current unavailability of his majesty,” you clasped your hands before you, “Unfortunately you will have to come at a later time.”

His expression soured, a polar shift to his previous pleasantness “I have been told that multiple times already…” he huffed “The king has already postponed two meetings with the council. If he is unable to grant me an audience at the moment, I have grounds to be worried don’t I, my queen?”

Your eyes fleeted to Alma who stood not far from the guards, lips drawn in a thin line. What was he implying?

Marquess Kamo is a cunning man, Nanami’s voice swept through your thoughts. You knew that the less you interacted with the man, the better. But you could not send him away without proper justification and let things fester. You had not been informed that the Marquess demanded an audience before. If just for the sake of appearances, you thought you should receive him.

A sudden anxious feeling crept up the back of your neck. Should you even make any of these decisions? What if all you did was make things worse in this place. You shook the thoughts away. Even if executive power had not been explicitly handed to you, doing nothing would only result in things getting worse.

“I understand, Marquess. I shall grant you a short audience in the gardens. But after today, the king will contact you when he is able to meet, so we will not expect your presence before then.” Your words were firm and the guards nod before stepping away from the aristocrat and leading the way to the main gardens.

The Marquess walked a step behind you, sending a wave of discomfort through you. The earlier this was done, the better. You sat at a small table in the middle of the lush garden, and Alma instructed servants to bring out tea and pastries. You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself for the conversation.

This is just to save face, you reminded yourself. The last thing you wanted were rumors that the king was ill or incapacitated in any way. You knew that was not what Nanami would have wanted. If servants were already thinking that, you did not know what could be going around in nobility.

“Thank you for your time, your majesty,” the man took a bite from the cake slice in front of him, making an exaggerated show of savoring it, seemingly having returned to his jolly mood.

“You are welcome, Marquess. I do not mean to sound short but I would appreciate if you would get to the point of this visit.” You forced your voice into an amicable tone, watching as the man finished the slice.

“I see you are fairly straightforward,” he put the fork down, eyes narrowing sharply. In an instant, his expression turned cold, sending a chill down your spine. “His majesty is obviously not here, so I won’t waste my time with official business.” You frowned. Had Nanami told him he was going away too? No… That did not sound right at all.

“I know you probably have many questions about this place. About the truth behind the king’s previous marriage.” He spoke quietly, causing you to narrow your eyes in suspicion. Where exactly was he going with this?

“All of which my husband has answered. I know Kaori was your daughter Marquess. I find this line of questioning highly inappropriate.” You lied.

He chuckled, a sinister sound. “Did he now? Are you sure he told you everything? The truth behind the nature of their relationship? Her death?” You went silent, eyes narrowing at the man.

“The king loved my daughter oh so dearly. Maybe that is why he is so distant now. You know what they say about losing a great love,” he recounted, timbre almost turned sappy. You could not figure this man out, but his words caused your frown to deepen.

Don’t let him get into your head.

“It is so nice of you to play nanny and try to keep appearances.” He stood, adjusting his coat over his shoulders, “I hope you don't believe the king actually cares about you. You may think yourself a queen, but you are but a glorified surrogate. A help.” The words knocked the wind out of you. The sheer audacity.

You watched him leave, escorted by the guards and leaving behind a deafening silence

Don’t let him get into your head

You repeated the mantra on your way back to Yuuji’s room. But how could you not? He had not say anything factually incorrect. Your role in the palace was to act as Yuuji's mother, even though you could never shake the shadow of the woman.

Help. That was all you were. To do what was needed for now, but destined to be eventually pushed into the background. The notion left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Pushing the chambers’ doors open, you expect to be greeted by Riko. But instead you notice Nanami sitting on the edge of the bed, hand resting on the sleeping child’s head.

“Your majesty,” you call out, staying by the door. He had returned. Finally. Relief filled your being.

“How long has he been ill?” The king did not turn around, his tone harshly breaking the silence.

The king was home. Finally. After what felt like an eternity away, exhaustion rocked his body. Unending days of riding and questioning had yielded results. He gained critical information about the insurrection. But the time away had also chipped away at his soul. He just needed to be home. To see his son. To know everything was alright. To be reminded he still had control.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his child, sick, with a panicking young maid when he entered the room. He ordered her out after listening to her unprompted ramblings about Yuuji being terribly sick. Why wasn’t Alma in there instead? Or even the royal doctor?

He had left his son. Without even the chance to say goodbye. He had neglected his duty as a father and now Yuuji was ill. What if something worse had happened while he was away? Once again he had failed, utterly so.

And in the middle of this torrent of emotions you burst into the room. So comfortably. Like you had been here countless times. Like you were the righteous occupant of Yuuji’s space. His child.

Only then did Nanami notice the small traces of you littered across the room. A pair of gloves laying on the nightstand. Your shawl draped on the other side of the bed. Your flowery scent lingering in the air.

You had crossed the line. Nanami felt control slipping from his fingers. Control over the care of his own son. The feeling only contributing to the mounting frustration he carried.

“So you’ve been in here… The whole time-”

“Could we please talk outside? I would not want to wake him now,” you interrupted, despite noting his mounting displeasure. The king tensed, but he eventually followed you outside.

You walked back to the garden where you had met the Marquess in an uneasy silence. One that sent your mind into a frenzy.

“The prince had smallpox,” you finally began when you both sat, “He feels much better now, I was with him the whole time.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you felt the need to brace yourself for this conversation. “Where were you?”

He looked up, tired eyes still holding what looked like hostility. “Away.” The curt response made your heart squeeze painfully. “Thank you for taking care of him but this ends today. I am back to take care of my son.”

You frowned at the emphasis of his words. How did he expect you to just scram after having seen Yuuji in such a state? You bit your lip, refusing to roll over and take it. Not this time.

“What does that mean? You cannot just dismiss me like this.” you tried to keep your voice even, but found it shaky. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the past few weeks. Or remnants of your previous conversation.

He sighed, rubbing at his temples. He felt a headache coming. One too many, and he did not have the patience for confrontation at the moment. “I can. And I am. Y/N I did not ask for you to do what you did.” His eyes found yours, sharp as ever. “You overstepped. And I am asking you to step back. I am his father, and you-”

“Are just a help” you finished his sentence, chuckling humorlessly. "I understand, your majesty," you said, rising to your feet, the sting of dismissal sharp in your chest. "I’ll return to my quarters, then. Should you think of any further errands befitting a servant, do let me know."

This place would never be your home. This was a political marriage after all. One you were traded into. And as you stepped away, willing yourself to not look back you reminded yourself. Beggars could not be choosers. You could not desire more than was given. And that included a place in the king’s heart.

whew this was a hefty one. As always, do let me know what you think!

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

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[brucewaynehater101]

In the Tim Emperor of Space au, being the ruler of multiple planets, possibly having multiple names he's referred to across planets since they have their own traditions and ideas of what a proper title might be, not to mention that at least a few of the planets came under Tim's hold while he was Robin while others while he was Red Robin, and I don't see Tim as being the sort of person who'd tell entire planets his actual, legal name,

getting off track

Anyway, in this AU, something to make note of, YJ is, for good reason, very co dependent, they had to be since in most cases they had next to no support in their day to day lives and several were in actively abusive situations and they only had fellow teens to help them

So, YJ knows and has always known that their birdie is an emperor, it makes him happy to help people so they support his hobby. Had this been a thing then rather than suggesting Tim get help and accept Bruce's death, Cassie would have instead suggested that Tim go on a royal tour/visit across his planets in the hopes that the time and distance would give him some perspective and the active adoration from his planets would probably also help in her opinion. He didn't but after the Brucrquest is done, Cassie might suggest he go on the royal tour anyway because he needs a break.

Anyway, Bart, Kon, and Cassie, sometimes just one, sometimes all, or in any combination, are considered royal consorts on Tim's various planets, depending on societal norms and attitudes on each planet. On at least one or more of the planets, each of the core four has inspired at least one cult that is quickly becoming a recognized religion across the galaxy. On the planets where any or all of them are the royal consort, their job is mostly to wear pretty things, fend off suitors who want to take advantage of their birdie, participate in charity events, and do their part in whatever convoluted scheme Tim has come up with to help out another planet that wants to be under Tim's aegis. They find it's very much like going as Tim's arm candy to a civilian event but they get to punch more people.

I love the idea of them maintaining various roles for Tim dependent on the culture of the planet. Sometimes, they are his advisors, or consorts, or generals, body guards, religious leaders (for the cult they accidentally started), vague family members, etc. The YJ definitely has fun in the different roles (even retired ones occasionally help out [it's like a vacation but in space]).

Tim has a very helpful spreadsheet (that links to more documents for further information) that explains who takes up what role on each planet. Despite that, they do occasionally mess up. Sometimes, planets even chat with each other. It gets a bit chaotic when that happens

[jj-the-hobbit171]

I have an idea. So a medieval au!. So, reader was this royal scholar of sorts that spent all their time studying, and reading the secrets of the land, and they liked it… till they met Johnny. The spitfire from the neighboring kingdom. Wild, so carefree, he was everything reader wasn’t, and that drew them together.

In the day, reader and Johnny would play fight in the castle gardens, running from guards and tutors that tried to sit them down; in the night, they’ll sneak out of the castle walls,into the forest, to the highest peek. He’ll lay his head in their lap, gazing at the stars, or them, and reader recites a story for them.

So, this happened for a long time, and they grow up, reader,to an exemplary royal advisor while Johnny now had reached the age of corrination. They move their relationship forward, and wed; giving each Al other their rings, He promises reader that they’ll never leave them, never leave this kingdom… that he’ll be their king and their lover.

But, fate has other plans and war strikes. The kingdom is in trouble and MacTavish has to leave, but not before your love has bored life, either through surrogacy, adopting, or the good old fucking. Anyway, he leaves you and your unborn to fight, and three mouths go by, and you’re holding your to months old boy in your arms when a messenger arrives. Their face is solem, as they kneel and present Johnnys fur coat, caked in blood, and torn in places. The king, has fallen.

It was a sad say at the funeral, his mother sobbing on the ground as they carry a close coffin to the grave. John MacTavish, king , husband, son and father, was buried. And on that day, you wore your battle amor, draped on his fur coat, and went, to purge the land.

And for five years, that’s exactly what you do. You go to each kingdom, conquering it, in the name of the late king. Slaughtering men and women who dare stand in your way, leaving with a new kingdom, and blood on your hands. But, one day, you pillaged and small but thriving town, and doing the routine, rounding the men together to either be captured or killed…. And when they brought them to you, one stood out.

He was shorter Thant the three other people he was with, with a very vivid mohawk. You ignored the other men, walking up to the stranger, and raising up his head….

“J-Johnny?”

And cliffhanger! Honestly, there’s a lot that I wanted to add, but I really want to hear from you about any ideas you have for this Au. Anyway thanks for reading!

From the hobbit hole,

J.J

[queenquinzel715]

3.1 Halforc Rothwell

Wrd count 2,469

Princess (Y/n) P.O.V.

When I turned fourteen I knew things were going to change in the worst possible way. I saw the royal doctors leaving my mother's chambers, and her ladies in waiting looking down so upset. I had just turned sixteen when I got woken by my mother's closest lady in waiting telling me to come quickly. I sat with my mother for an hour when she finally let go. My father stood by the door silently crying to himself. They did actually love each other.

That night my life became hectic. I took over Queen duties for the kingdom. Which is no problem, however my father's advisors are like the devil in his ear. My father is so poor minded that the lies they tell him he believes them. I do feel bad for my father. He was just a guard when he and my mother, the princess, fell for each other. He does care for our people, he just doesn't understand how to communicate with them, so he leaves it to William. William is the head guard that is supposed to help my people when they need it, but he's just a tyrant.

Like today, William and Henry, the main advisor, are telling my father that the creatures that are coming to do trade are tricking my father. They are telling him that these creatures are raiding savages. I've heard enough from these two.

"Alright that's enough. What are your sources for all this?" I stop them just as they walk to the maps to map out an attack on the incoming ships. "My sources tell me the reason for any attacks was that the Tearings Kingdom enslaved them." I look at my father's indecisive face.

"I have insiders in the Silentdew Kingdom, Sire." Henry boosts with a mocking smile.

"I don't remember a ship leaving for that long of a voyage, so when was this?"

I'm completely ignored.

"These creatures are here simply for land. I myself have sent letters with their King, so I will not have these stories to be spread. If no problems are caused then no problems will occur. They should be docking in just three days, and we must greet them accordingly." My father takes over. He turns to me. "(Y/n) I need you to be there for their reassurance that we give faith into our new arrangements." I give my father a reassuring smile.

"I was hoping to meet them at dinner." I try to sound proper, not too obvious.

"I know, I know. I just need them to know even with your own… legacy, we are here united for good reasons." I laugh at his pausing for the right words.

What he had difficulty with is my true title. Queen General (full name). At fourteen my mother insisted my father train me in some sort of defense. What she didn't expect was for me to get completely infatuated with fighting, and well I became General after my eighteenth birthday. No one argued the title placement, because they knew I actually worked for it. Sadly I had to give that title to William last year when I turned twenty. My father told me it was time for me to settle down, so he's been finding suitors for me. Most of them did seem good on paper, so I don't fault my father on that point. It's just when they open their mouths nothing intelligent comes out just pompous showboating, or their egos get destroyed from my legacy. At least my father doesn't fight me when I tell him I won't marry them.

Besides, my biggest problem is dealing with an overly cocky William. He's been following me around assuming I'm turning the suitors away for him, because we've known each other since childhood. Granted as a child he was better to tolerate. Over the years I've learned just the type of man he's become, and the amount of female servants I've helped from his whole group. My mother taught me very early that I can't stop men like that, so that's why the only females that work in my castle are my own close ladies. I have made an example of what happens when I catch you in certain acts which helped the women in the town as well. Sadly mother was right. That's why I pray to her that I'm right with these creatures that come here, they docked yesterday. Tomorrow I will actually meet their leader, and have dinner.

This morning I'm woken up by my ladies to get ready for the creature's arrival. They should be here by midday, and by then I should have my nerves somewhat controlled. Which doesn't seem fruitful when the laces of my dress are being pulled back to cut my breathing off. I wasn't used to these formal dresses, and hair styling anymore. I mostly stayed in work dresses, and kept my hair braided to the side. I look like my mother with my hair like this, and she'd love this.

I walked down the main steps as the gates opened for three mountainous horses carrying orcs. I come to a stop in the only open place next to my father. Of course it's next to William. I keep myself looking at the gorgeous horses, but I'm stuck on the short haired one with a scruff-like beard. His yellow eyes scan the crowd, they seem to shine with curiosity as he sees something new.

"I like your hair this way, Princess." William takes me away from the orc. "I wanted to surprise you, but Friday I'm telling your father about us." I feel his hand move along my arm. "I can't let you keep this charade of the suitors." The entire feeling from him makes me nervous, causing me to move away immediately.

I hear him chuckling as I step to my father as he steps closer with the orcs following. Once I take a deep breath I realize I didn't hold my composure when my face relaxes. My father introduces me to Lord Rothwell and his guards. I look up at him in amazement as I outstretch my hand.

"Welcome Sir Rothwell." I offer him my hand.

"I'm very happy to be here, My Lady." His smile brings his tusk to a better view as he brings my hand to meet his lips, letting me feel just how smooth his tusks are.

Throughout the day, we are in the meeting hall going over the maps showing them their lands, and discussing laws. I was surprised when we have similar laws, granted they had more for the different creatures, which they gave us their law books.

Once dinner is served, it's like we have all known each other for years with the laughter coming from the dining hall. I sit left of my father as Rothwell sits across from me. I could listen to him talk about his people all night. He talks with such passion, the way his eyes light up when he speaks of certain people, well creatures.

"I'm glad we are on the same page about this settlement." I'm father raises his cup to cheer.

"Yes, I like how we are using the river as a boundary. It is very clever. That way no one can say they don't know where they are going." He cheers with my father.

"That was (y/n)'s idea. I swear if you spend a day with her you'd be amazed with what she comes up with." Father laughs as he shakes my shoulder making my food fall off my spoon.

"I'd love to spend a day with you." Rothwell looks me in the eyes as he says this, his voice makes my ankles lock together on their own.

"Sir Rothwell, do you hope this is a permanent settlement or just for the resources?" I generally want to know for my own knowledge and my kingdom's.

"Completely permanent, Princess." He smirks once responded.

My father grabs Rothwell's attention for some battle stories, but William decides now will be best to slide into the seat next to mine. I roll my eyes at his drunken smile.

"Father?" I try to properly get his attention.

"I was thinking about sunset for our ceremony." William begins. "The windows in the church shine perfectly at that time." He reaches for my piece of hair, but I move back.

I look back to my father to see him still talking, but Rothwell is eyeing William with hard eyes. William leans closer to continue his wedding talk, trying to touch me, making me grip my eating knife. He goes to reach for me again, and I snap. I push him back with my knife pointed at his lower rib. He drops his cup, leaving the wine to puddle the floor, and raises his hands. I slightly lean forward with my eyes locked on his terror filled ones.

"I've tolerated you all day, with your wedding bullshit talk, and you trying to touch me." He goes to speak, but me pushing the knife slightly further makes him stop. "If you so much as think of coming near me in the next couple of days. I swear the moment my eyes land on you I will cut your ribs out right there. Am I understood?" I sternly finish with a last push of the knife.

"Yes, Princess. I'm terribly sorry I won't bother you again." He rushes out his apologies as he nods quickly.

I raise my knife to the side for him to shakily run to the doors of the dining hall. Everyone is still silent as I turn back to my food. As I bite into my food I look up to Rothwell slightly biting his lower lip. I can feel my neck up to my face get hot as I look back down to my plate. Everyone starts to mumble about me as they get back to dinner.

"Daughter, must you embarrass the poor boy." Father laughs as he fills my cup with wine.

"Yes I must. Animals like him don't listen to normal talk, so I must get straight to the point." I take a big gulp of my wine as I stand. "Well goodnight father, enjoy your night." I kiss my father on the forehead. "Please don't get him completely gone. I'd like him to be somewhat functional." I laugh with Rothwell as the others raise their cups to me.

I walk to my chambers with an orc on my mind, and how my mother would be shocked that this is who I'm thinking about. Once in my chambers I change into my night dress getting comfortable as the night bonfire is lit in town Square. I lean against the balcony door crossing my arms at William's nonsense. I'm brought out of my thoughts as a crowd forms, and William steps through along with Rothwell. I could finally see that Rothwell is three feet taller than William, and is much bigger as well. The small group that came with Rothwell cheers for Rothwell as the fight starts. I watch as Rothwell practically throws William like a child around the circle. William slides along the ground making me laugh, and Rothwell raises his arms as he roars in celebration with his men. One of the creature men point up toward me, making him look up at me. I give him a sarcastic clap, but inside I want to scream for him. His roar was much louder as his men crowd him like he won something. William steps back to him in a drunken like sway, maybe it's a painful sway. Rothwell swats the air telling him he's done, but William says something that's obviously antagonizing. Rothwell actually throws him this time, but I feel that still wasn't his full strength. I watch William use his horse to stand. Rothwell walks away with his group of men as my men get back to work on the weapons. William however takes his sword from the sheath he keeps on his horse, and runs toward Rothwell with the sword high in the air. I grab a book that I left on the balcony, and throw it at Rothwell. It hits one of his men, making him turn to me. I just point at William. I quickly run down the stairs as the yelling echoes off the walls. They grow louder as I get to the Town Square. I signal to the cannon gunners to shoot a cannon. My men stop, and stand to attention. The creatures slowly stand to their feet. I step calmly through the sea of men to the ones that are still gripping onto each other. I take the sword of one of the closest men.

"Enough!" I use the sword to push William back.

Once he sees it's me he falls to his knees.

"Meeting hall, NOW!" My voice booms off the walls.

As I follow the two men into the hall my father is standing there with an angry expression. As I walk around them I throw the sword into a table. I look at the marks William somehow got on Rothwell with worry, but when I look at how William looks I couldn't hold my smirk.

"I don't mind when you men fight for show or for your own amusement. However I will not tolerate you having war IN THE MIDDLE OF MY KINGDOM!" My father yells out like he never has before. "Not only did you want to spar with an orc, you tried to strike an unarmed man in the back." My father speaks in shame at William. "Lets not begin to discuss what happened at dinner with my daughter." He turns to me. "Why was he threatened anyway?"

"Well throughout the day he has tried grabbing me, telling me that I am to marry him, and how the suitors I've declined were for his benefit." I tell my father honestly.

While I explain to my father Rothwell snaps his head to William like he actually wants to kill him.

"Guards!" Father suddenly yells, making me jump in surprise. "Lock William in the tunnels until I can deal with him in the morning." William is pleading as he is being pulled out once he's gone father sits with a deep sigh. "I should've done that years ago." He looks up at me as he rests his head on his fingertips looking between me and Rothwell. "Hmm well. Should we start the courting process?" He asks Rothwell with a no tolerance voice.

"Yes." Is all Rothwell says with a last look at me before storming out.

"Courting process?" I question my father.

He just dismisses me to bed, and tells me to enjoy the gifts.

[ashtavula]

Royalty AU Pt 1: A Meeting With Azul

Housewardens x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 2431

Start Here

You sigh as your carriage bears you down the streets of the capital city. There’s a letter clutched in your hands, and you reread it over and over as your mind swirls with thoughts.

“...come by my agency. I can tell you anything you wish to know about your suitors…I’ll even waive my usual fees…in exchange for your company.”

A small pit forms in your stomach. Azul Ashengrotto is not the sort of man one trifles with on a whim. He puts on a front, acting like a perfect gentleman who only wants what’s best for you, but your loyal advisors have already told you to be cautious. There’s a reason why there are so many rumors about him being a shady businessman who’ll rob you of anything you value. Still, you don’t have much of a choice. You need to learn more about your suitors than just vague rumors and whispered tales. You need facts, and Azul is willing to provide them. 

“Not to mention that he himself is one of my potential suitors…not that he knows that,” you think to yourself. Azul is offering himself up like this to try and circumnavigate the process of selecting candidates, but truthfully, your parents have already told you to consider him. His information is always accurate. Even your own royal advisors have gone to him before when they desperately needed what he could provide. You sigh. “Still, to think that my parents are actually telling me to consider marrying him. He’s just a slimy octopus, in more ways than one.”

The carriage comes to a stop, and you tuck the letter back into your pocket. However, when the door opens, you don’t see your coachman. Instead, you see the same man who handed you the letter in your parlor room. His grin is unsettlingly sharp as he bows. “A pleasure to meet you again, Your Highness. Though, it occurs to me that I didn’t give you my name back then. I apologize for such rudeness.” He straightens up, his hand still on his chest. “My name is Jade Leech. I assist Azul in the daily management of the agency.” The gloved hand on his chest extends itself out to you. “Please allow me to be of assistance to you as well, Your Highness.”

He’s being a gentleman, but you feel a bit unnerved. There’s something in his smile that reminds you of a shark in the water, and you don’t think it’s because of the sharp teeth you caught a glimpse of. You’d like to refuse his hand, but you’re bound by social norms. It’d be rude of you to turn down his help. 

Jade’s smile spreads a little wider, into something nearly predatory as your warm hand clasps his. His long fingers wrap around yours as he helps you step down from the carriage, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve played into some game of his. Especially when he lifts your hand, and he places a kiss on your knuckles. He continues to hold your hand as you enter the Octavinelle Agency. As the oak door swings open, you feel like you’re entering the maw of a beast eager to swallow you whole.

Once the door shuts behind you, you’re a bit surprised to see a man who looks identical to the one standing beside you leaning against a wall. The man’s lips stretch into a wide grin, and he suddenly lunges towards you. You don’t have time to step back before the man is mere inches away. Now that he’s close, you see the differences, even as you pull away. This man’s eyes droop while Jade’s are sharp, and they have different hair. You can see his needle sharp teeth behind his lips as he starts to speak.

“Huh. You’re shorter than I thought you’d be. I thought royalty were supposed to be all tall and imposing.” 

Jade chuckles, and he turns to you. “Your Highness, this is my twin brother, Floyd. Do forgive him; he can be rather blunt.”

Floyd shrugs his shoulders. “Just being honest. Your Highness is all small and cute, like a shrimp. Makes me want to give you a little squeeze…”

You’re left stunned. You’ve never been approached so brazenly, and being told that you remind this man of a shrimp isn’t exactly flattering. As you open your mouth to say something, a third voice interrupts.

“Floyd, I do hope you’re not making a poor first impression.” The voice is smooth, and surprisingly delicate. As Floyd straightens up and moves aside, you lay eyes on the owner of that charming voice.

Azul Ashengrotto. You’d heard a lot about his shady personality, but no one had told you that he was surprisingly attractive. He’s not the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, but there’s a certain charm to his pale features. He gives you a bow, and pushes the silver frames of his glasses back up his nose as he regards you with a smile. “Your Highness, I’m delighted that you accepted my invitation. Please, follow me to my office.”

As you move to follow Azul deeper into the halls of the Octavinelle Agency, you barely notice Jade and Floyd slip away, and go a different direction. You’re left alone with Azul as he guides you into his office.

Once inside, Azul insists that you take a seat on one of the plush leather couches in front of his desk. Azul sits on the same couch, but he keeps a comfortable distance between the two of you, which you’re grateful for. There’s tea and snacks laid out on the table before you, and you give Azul a polite smile as he pours you a cup of tea. As you take a sip, you note that it’s your favorite blend. As a matter of fact, the table is filled with nothing but your favorite snacks. It’s unnerving. Just how much does Azul already know about you? And how did he find out?

If Azul notices how tense you are, he doesn’t say anything. He merely smiles at you as he pours his own cup of steaming tea. “You already know the terms that I outlined in my letter. I’ll share what I know about your suitors, and in exchange, you’ll indulge me with a date. I think it’s more than fair, no?”

You nearly choke on your tea. As you cough, you look at him with wide eyes. “Hold on,” you sputter. “The letter stated that you wanted my company. You said nothing about a date!” 

Azul isn’t fazed, and he continues to smile. “Come now, Your Highness, I thought you’d understood my intentions. Every eligible man in the kingdom, and even some from outside of it, are all eagerly vying for your affection. Truly, can you blame me for also wishing for your hand in marriage?”

He lifts his hand, and he places it on his chest. “You have nothing to be afraid of, Your Highness. I won’t do anything untoward. I am merely asking for a single evening with you, to prove that I too am worthy of your consideration.”

His lips are curved into a smile, and for the first time, you can see the cunning intellect in his gray eyes. You need this information, and Azul is the only one who can provide it. You’ve been ensnared in his tentacles, and the only way out is the promise of a date. After a few long moments, you sigh, and acquiesce to his terms. Azul’s smile widens.

“Excellent. Now, who would you like to learn about first?”

×××

You suppress the urge to sigh as you sneak a glance at Azul. The man has the audacity to look smug as the two of you walk down the street. You're walking arm in arm, as per his insistence, and you can feel the curious gazes as Azul escorts you to the restaurant he selected for your date. As you turn a corner, your brows lift. He's taking you to his mother's restaurant. 

“Hm. Why am I not surprised,” you grumble.

Azul chuckles. “I promised to take you to the best restaurant in the capital, and my mother's is undoubtedly the best. In fact, the king and queen come here once a month. So, I know for certain that it'll suit your royal palate.”

This time, you really do sigh as you approach the restaurant. Even from down the street, you can see the long line of people hoping they can get a table. But instead of heading for the front door, Azul guides you down to a small side entrance. He pushes the door open, and you find yourself in the kitchen. 

Multiple chefs rush around, and you can see a curvy woman bossing them around. When she turns her gaze towards you, you immediately recognize her, despite having never seen her before. The family resemblance is too strong for you to ignore. This is Azul’s mother. Her gaze softens when she sees Azul, and she rushes over. She gives you a polite curtsy as she greets you, but she scolds Azul.

“Zuzu, you should have gone through the front. Royalty shouldn't have to be dragged through the kitchen.”

Azul’s smile tightens a bit at the nickname. “Sorry, mama.” He moves his arm, and lays his hand on your lower back. “But I wanted them to see you. Besides, the side door is far closer to the private table.”

Mrs. Ashengrotto sighs, but there's a fondness to it. She then leads you to a small, private room off the side of the kitchen. Azul pulls your chair out for you, and you take your seat. As Azul sinks down into the chair beside you, he gives you an apologetic smile.

“Allow me to apologize for making you come through the side entrance. However, I spotted Mr. Cater Diamond lurking around the front. I didn’t think you wanted news of our little outing to be tomorrow's headline.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Azul…had actually taken your feelings into account. A dusting of pink graces your cheeks, and you avert your gaze as you quietly thank him for the consideration. He merely smiles, but you can see a similar blush color his own face at your gratitude. He clears his throat, and he pushes his glasses up as he changes the subject. He taps your menu with a finger.

“My mother chooses what to serve every night, but I believe that you’ll find tonight’s selection rather exquisite…”

By the time you’re both having dessert, you’ve grown relaxed. Azul isn’t bad company. In fact, you’re starting to see the cracks in that professional facade. As much as Azul likes to act like he’s a suave, charismatic gentleman, you can tell that he gets easily flustered. Every time you laugh at one of his jokes, or act impressed by his knowledge, his cheeks turn pink. He’s trying to maintain his cool, but you no longer see the conniving boss of the Octavinelle Agency. Instead, you simply see a young man who’s trying his best to impress you. 

It almost makes you wonder how far you can push him. As a waiter clears away the dessert plates, you place your hand on his. “I admit, I had my doubts. But I enjoyed our little date, Azul.” You squeeze his hand. “I’d say you’ve definitely caught my attention.”

Azul’s response is immediate. He gapes at you like a fish out of water, and his cheeks flush a deeper scarlet. It takes him a few moments too long to regain his bearings.

“T-Thank you, Your Highness. Hearing you say that you enjoy my company makes me rather happy.”

He’s trying to be smooth, but it fails. His voice is slightly strained, and it’s painfully obvious that he has no idea how to respond to your flirting. It sends a thrill down your spine to know that you can send this powerful man into a tizzy with a mere touch and a few sweet words. Your hand lingers on his, and you ever so slowly run your middle finger over the gap between his glove and the edge of his sleeve. Azul stiffens, and you hear the faint gasp that leaves his lips. You want to smile, but you force your expression to remain neutral, even as you see Azul’s blush intensify.

“Shall we, Azul?” You stand, and Azul scrambles to join you. You once again take his arm as you leave the private dining room, and head out of the side entrance. Azul keeps stealing little glances at you as you both wander back towards his agency. Conversation continues to flow, all the way up to the front door. 

Azul sighs, and he squeezes your hand. He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles, but he hesitates before he lightly brushes his lips against your skin. “Have a safe journey home, Your Highness,” he murmurs. He opens the door to your carriage, and he waves to you as the coachman drives away.

As your carriage disappears down the street, Azul lowers his hand. He pushes his glasses up, and he reenters the agency. He needs to write things down, and needs to make careful notes about the things you liked and disliked. As Azul’s brain swirls with thoughts of you, Jade and Floyd step out of the shadows. Their faces are stretched into sinister smiles as they corner him. 

“So,” Floyd drawls. “Tell us everything that happened between you and our little shrimpy.”

Looks like his notes are going to have to wait.

×××

As your carriage makes its way back to the royal castle, it passes by a bakery. Two men sit inside, and their conversation comes to a halt as they catch a glimpse of the royal crest emblazoned onto the carriage door.

“Huh. Speak of the devil,” the taller man murmurs.

The shorter man purses his lips, and he sets his fork down. “Hmph. It’s far too late for them to be out.”

His companion chuckles. He leans back in his chair, and he adjusts his hat. 

“So, what do you think they’re up to, Riddle?”

Riddle stares out the window. The carriage is long gone, but he can still see it clearly in his mind’s eye. “...It doesn’t matter.”

But even as he picks his fork back up, and takes another bite of strawberry tart, Riddle’s mind turns to the carriage, and its royal occupant. Just wait, Your Highness. I’ll prove that I’m the only one who deserves you… 

[yuri-is-online]

Can we hear your thoughts on Leona! Yutu?

Since Leona died fighting the Phantom, Yutu obviously wouldn't have met him, and I'm wondering about your ideas between what Leona became after NRC, how the loss of Yuu affected him, Leona's death, and Yutu's opinion of him before and after meeting him. I had an errant idea of Leona having Died a Hero's Death and then when Yutu meets him it's like, "THIS is the guy my parent was willing to spend the rest of their life with???"

Anyway yeah. As a Leona Simp, I would much appreciate anything you write.

Does he like cats... you know I have always sort of seen Leona has having a petty rivalry with Grim because he thinks he should be the King Cat, so the image of Leona! Yutu lying in a field with a bunch of cats is sort of a perfect contrast. I like it: Leona! Yutu absolutely loves cats and they love him.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.

Leona and and his position in the kingdom's line of succession... Based off my understanding of what we see in the Tashmina event I think the Savanna would prioritize protecting their royal family over a lot, something that pissed Leona off. He went to fight the King of Beast's phantom because he saw it as a problem he made and that he needed to take responsibility for sure, but also because he had no faith in his brother to do anything meaningful about it. I want to say that his brother wanted to enshrine Leona as a hero for his sacrifice, but that this decision was very unpopular with his advisors so he was buried in the Elephant Graveyard without much fanfare. He is an extremely popular figure with the hyenas, as is Ruggie. They see him as restoring the Kingdom's honor in a way by defeating the false king, something no other country in the apocalypse can claim, but things are still rough since they can't rely on tourism anymore and the blot has been making the weather really unpredictable, leading to bad harvests and starving people.

If Yuu was Leona's... losing them wouldn't have a noticeable affect on him but it was a massively crushing blow. We know he hates his unique magic because turning things to sand is a curse in the Savanna, but did it really have to be his own family this time? The family he got in spite of himself, the one fucking person who chose him no matter how much he snapped at them and tried to convince them to see him for what he was; a worthless dead end that would only hurt them. And what's worse is he knows that whoever took them had his brother's cooperation.

"Couldn't let me have this one fucking thing could you?" He's laughing as he says it and not even the irritation in his sister in law's eyes makes him back down. "Stuff it. I ain't stupid enough for whatever line you got fed and I don't care about your justifications. You're gonna have to live with this one on your own, Falena. Just like I have to."

He refuses to talk to his other family after that. No matter who is asking or making demands, taking Yuu and Yutu away from him is just one step too far. His brother probably thought that Yuu would be allowed to come home and that's why he let them go, but that's not exactly an excuse Leona would be willing to accept from anyone, let alone the supposed leader of a state. He almost feels relived when the blot phantoms start wreaking things, Leona might just want to sleep until you come to wake him up again but fighting things gives him an excuse to get his mind off things. Dying is a relief, he doesn't have to deal with Idia's whining or living without you any longer than he already has. His only regret is that he had to take Ruggie with him.

I really love this fanart and head cannon fima11 had of Leona's hair being light when he was born, and the color getting darker as he grows, so the idea of something similar happening with Leona! Yutu when he's born is really sweet. Leona's hair sort of resembles a mane, it'd be cute if Leona! Yutu's did the same. And genetics are already so weird I don't think any earth doctors would like too much of it.

Leona! Yutu is a sleepy boy. His hobby is napping and his favorite place in the whole wide world is his bed. He has a bad habit of laying face first in his pillows because he snores pretty loudly and he doesn't want to wake anyone up, which sort of makes him look like he has passed out as opposed to just settled down for a good snooze.

Because he is being raised by a single parent in the human world and not a bunch of gossipy servants hired by emotionally neglectful royalty, Yutu is significantly less entitled than Leona is. He has good sense with his money and can work hard, he just has a bit of a problem with resting bitch face that leaves people thinking he is rude. And to be fair? If someone is testing his patience then he really can be. Apple didn't fall far from the tree, Yutu is absolutely brutal when people test his patience.

Yuu's memories of Leona don't exactly help with his perceived behavior problems, they recall Leona's catty personality and how rude he could be, but that he was so remarkably clever and so very strong, that they were in awe of him sometimes. I think they would mention that he struggled with depression due to a difficult upbringing and feel a need to make sure Yutu felt appreciated and like he could do anything he set his mind to, no matter who he was born as. Yutu just takes that to mean that being a bitch runs in the family and he fully intends to ride that excuse to the bank.

It's a nice thought but Yutu feels a bit conflicted by it. He has no doubt that Yuu will always love and support him, but other people? Yuu might be able to ignore what their neighbors say about them but Yutu can hear them loud and clear. They think Yuu's amnesia is an act, and that he's a weirdo freak. Not to mention they don't have any money so even if he wanted to be a doctor or something like that going to school would be a bit of a pain, even with his grades. He finds school to be boring, and even when he gets bullied by one of the coaches in to taking up a sport because of how strong he is it doesn't help much.

I could see him being very into space and astronomy because he feels like he doesn't belong in your world. He knows a lot of downright stupid stuff about UFO sightings and aliens even though he doesn't believe in them. He is SO DISAPPOINTED when Twisted Wonderland turns out to have no conspiracy theories to talk about, can't think the moon landing was faked if you never had one after all. If the world wasn't literally ending he would be pushing for the Sunset Savanna to win the space race, c'mon guys it is in our name everything the light touches totally expands to the stars-

Like the other beastmen Yutus he maintains his instincts, even in your world. He is extremely territorial about his things and especially your home. Like Cater! Yutu, he has strong feelings of nostalgia for your world, but unlike him it has nothing to do with the monsters or hardships. Lions just tend to stay in the same place for a long time so moving to entirely different world and ecosystem makes him feel weird, even if he prefers his beastfolk body to his human one.

Gets put in Savanaclaw by the mirror. He might like space but his preferred type of argument is rearranging someone's dental work before asking them to explain themselves. He'd be terrible at defending a thesis.

Leona! Yutu's place in the Sunset Savanna hierarchy is tricky. I think, as Yutu is his brother's child, Falena would want some sort of relationship with him as he does clearly love his brother. What makes that hard is that as far as the government is concerned, Leona is dead and that's the end of his part of the family line. Acknowledging that he had a son could further destabilize the already tense political situation in the Savanna since Leona's sacrifice is already a point of conflict between the royal family and a portion of their people. While Crewel has no problem telling Yutu about his father since he has a right to know, the fact that he is technically a prince is completely hidden from him for a long time.

We haven't really played with this idea yet, but I sort of like Leona having a ghost that hangs around his grave sometimes. Idia arranges for Yutu to go there on a day he thinks he'll be hanging around and while Yutu doesn't get to talk to his father he does get to see him and the look of pride in his eyes when the grumpy lion realizes who he is. Leona gets to pass on and be with Yuu while Yutu gets a lesson from his cousin about the concept of the great Kings living on in the sky and how the past lives on in him. Because while Cheka understand his dad's concerns like hell is he not going to meet his favorite cousin. His enthusiasm is really exhausting to Yutu, he appreciates the fact that someone has nice things to say about his dad but he isn't too sure how much he trusts this guy.

Oh right one more thing, I don't want to say each of the Savanaclaw boys would pass their magic on to their Yutu's so if we ever get around to Jack he won't, but Leona should pass on King's Roar to his kid. Causing a drought might be considered a curse but I want to say Leona! Yutu wears it with pride. He loves his roar and that despite all the effort put in to erasing Leona from existence he still lives in him. His head is fit to wear the crown, no matter what anyone says.

Leona clocks what Yutu is the instant he steps out of the portal. It's all in the kid's scent and what runes he used to make the jump. He takes some time to think about what it could mean and comes to a few conclusions. Firstly, if he has a kid with you then he will always have some sort of relationship with you, no not in the yandere possessive way (mostly), he just knows enough about himself and his wants to know that having a kid would not be something he did by accident. If he did that at some point in the future it would be because you were going to stay with him forever and he actually believed that. Something that clearly did not get to happen because of how protective Yutu is of his parent.

Yutu was a bit confused if he should go about interacting with his dad or even ask about him so you can imagine his surprise when he stops by Ramshackle to see Leona half asleep on the couch.

"Oh sorry Yuu isn't here-"

"I know." Leona doesn't even open his eyes, and is he seriously wearing his shoes on the couch? Yuu would kill him for that it's so unsanitary.

"Um. Ok I'll just leave you be the-"

"Why'd you travel back in time?" Oh Leona's eyes are open now and there is something about that stare that's nailing Yutu to his spot and tempting his tail between his legs. His dad must notice because he laughs and shakes his head. "Seriously? If that's all it takes to scare you shitless we really are fucked."

Leona doesn't outright say he knows he's his dad, but Yutu gathers that's probably the case from the difference in his attitude around him compared to everyone else. There's a degree of coldness and severity to Leona when he's giving orders that really isn't present when he's talking to him about overblots or his theories about who is responsible for the bad future. He's almost playful about it, like he is messing with a cub. Which Yutu supposes that he is but still, he doesn't like being treated like a kid. Something he very much regrets telling Leona because holy shit his dad is strong just like Yuu said he was.

I think Leona would make him play chess against him a lot. You can learn a lot about a person by playing chess with them, and since it's something Leona really likes to do he would enjoy sharing it with his son. I think he would also get a kick out of seeing Yutu get really competitive with him about it. Maybe there is some lion in this kid after all.

Leona also makes a subtle effort to teach him about how the court of the Sunset Savanna works. I think Leona would sort of enjoy the fact that his kid didn't grow up as royalty just because it meant he was free of the pressures that he had, but hate everything else he learned about Yutu's childhood. It inspires him to think a bit deeper about how he is going to address this when Yutu is born in this timeline, though he is admittedly lacking on solutions beyond refusing to die this time. He must have been really far gone to even consider making a heroic sacrifice that's not like him at all.

He does get the appeal of his father sort of? Sure he's lazy, but he is extremely intelligent and clearly a lot more knowledgeable about literally everything than Yutu thought he was. When they're working together he sees a very impressive person and reliable leader. When he sees Leona interact with you he has questions. Why do you let him pick fights with you so often? Yutu can tell he's making heart eyes at how you fight back but that's because he's a beatman himself so he can read his body language. And he's not crazy about how he orders you around because if his father is a Prince... wouldn't that mean by marrying him you would also be royalty? He is so confused...

Meanwhile Leona isn't rushing things just because he knows you return his feelings at some point. He wants you to choose to be with him of your own free will, wants the feeling that comes with knowing you did that and he is willing to play the game to get that. Every milestone he reaches is so much sweeter for knowing that he got you on his efforts alone, crappy attitude and all.

The reveal to Yuu, much like the reveal to Yutu is extremely mundane. Leona invites you to spend the night with him sometime after you get together and he asks you while you're curled up on his chest and he's holding you just a bit too tight (not because he's afraid you'll run, not at all) how you would feel if you could never go home.

"A little upset." Because you had resigned yourself to the possibility a long time ago now. There's a chance you're only in Twisted Wonderland because you died in your world anyway, might as well be grateful you're still kicking. "And if you stayed and things went bad here, would you still be alright with that?" You don't hesitate at all to his surprise. "I think I'd be safe if I was with you." Well he really hates to prove you wrong but you still deserve to know.

Leona is weirdly quiet in his anger. He roars sure, but that's to exert control. When he's mad he just gets smug and says a lot of hurtful stuff. He leaves the screaming to Yuu, and I could see a Yuu that got with Leona only to learn they didn't get to spend the rest of their life with him doing a lot of screaming. Preventing the apocalypse is a team effort now but first Yutu and Leona are getting scolded for not letting Yuu in on the secret sooner. Leona is down bad horrendous and Yutu wants to die, he hates making you mad.

If I had to make a list of characters I would trust to find a solution to an apocalypse, Leona would actually be pretty close to the top. He is going to bitch about it the entire way, but if he were given the facts before things went too sideways, I think he would be able to make a good plan to set them straight. And there is no way anyone is going to tell him that he managed to have something as precious to him as Yuu taken away from him and not have him do something about it. He'll swallow his pride and take his licks when he has to, but not on this. Never on this, whoever thought he'd just roll over and die is going to shatter in his hands and be like dust on the wind. He really hopes they have enough sense to be prepared....