#goverment assistance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 3 months

Text

Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!!

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #Black Leg Sanji x reader l #Black Leg Sanji #Sanji x reader #Vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Black Leg Sanji x reader #Taz Skylar #Bellona's stuff

176 notes · View notes

princessanonymous · 4 months

Text

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

7. 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓭𝓮

The governess had begun her tutelage several weeks ago, immersing (Y/n) in a world of etiquette, reading, writing, and history. (Y/n)'s nights unfolded like the pages of a meticulously crafted novel as the governess wove a tapestry of refinement and knowledge around her. In the vast library that echoed with the whispers of ancient books, (Y/n) delved into the intricacies of literature, guided by the cold and rigorous teacher.

To make things more intense, she had been attending dance lessons with the vampire. As twilight enveloped the mansion, (Y/n) exchanged her quill for dance shoes, stepping into a realm where elegance and danger danced in tandem. The vampire nobleman led her through a series of intricate steps under the flickering candlelight of the chandelier. Each movement was a symphony of precision. The vampire was truly a demanding instructor. After each lesson, her feet ached, and the simple act of walking became an arduous task. The nobleman had relentlessly drilled her in dance, squeezing months of instruction into mere weeks.

Before the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its last golden rays upon the world, he roused (Y/n) from her slumber with an urgency that hinted at the gravity of the impending event. In the soft glow of dawn, he requested that she don her most exquisite evening gown, a garment he had purchased just for these types of occasions.They were to attend a grand ball, a rare outing that (Y/n) was looking forward to after her time of confinement within the manor's walls.

Following a soothing bath, a maid arrived to assist her in dressing. The process was notably more time-consuming tonight due to the intricate hairstyle and the numerous layers of her dress. Her gown was an exquisite blend of black and crimson, exuding an air of sophistication. She wore long gloves that extended up to her elbows, and a glistening ruby necklace adorned her neck. A red bow adorned her hair, and she completed the look with dainty satin red shoes.

"We will be departing soon, child," she heard the vampire call from the corridor outside her bedroom. "You ought to be prepa—" His sentence hung in the air, unfinished, as he stepped into the room and abruptly came to a standstill, his eyes fixated on (Y/n).

(Y/n) flinched as she wondered if she had inadvertently done something wrong, causing the vampire's sudden pause. He, however, broke the silence with an unexpected smile—a genuine one that reached the depths of his crimson-tinged eyes.

The vampire closed the distance between them, his movements deliberate yet filled with an odd warmth. A fondness colored his words as he addressed her. "Oh, my dear doll," he beamed, his voice full of fondness. "Crimson suits you impeccably. Smile for me," he gushed, his fingers delicately cupping her face, as if sculpting a moment in time.

His reaction was entirely unexpected, and she had never witnessed him being so effusive. The vampire's gaze, once intense and inscrutable, softened into something akin to paternal affection. With a subtle nod, (Y/n) complied, summoning a hesitant yet genuine smile to grace her features. She attempted to swat his hands away, but his genuine enthusiasm was uncontainable as he continued to coo and lavish her with compliments.

The vampire's smile widened, his satisfaction evident. "There, my dear, that is the spirit," he praised, his tone a melodic cadence that echoed in the room. “You look so much better when you behave.”

The vampire's outfit matched hers as he was wearing a red and black frock coat paired with a high-collared vest with silver buttons. As accessories, he wore short cream-white satin gloves and a single-layer jabot with a ruby brooch.

They eventually left the manor, once the man had stopped gushing about her clothing. As (Y/n) walked out. The moon was bright in the cloudless sky and stars shone brightly. The night was a bit chilly and she felt a cold breeze in the air.

A grand black carriage and a coachman were waiting for them by the entrance. She marveled at the beautiful horses. They were tall and imposing, one was black and the other was white. (Y/n) tried approaching them, then the vampire slapped her hand away and tutted. She glared, rubbing her hand to soothe it as they entered the carriage.

As the carriage journeyed toward their destination, (Y/n) couldn't help but confess, "I've never been to a ball before," she admitted with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, her eyes reflecting the glint of uncertainty. "I hope I won't make a fool out of myself."

"Do not concern yourself with such matters," the nobleman dismissed with a lazy, yet elegant wave of his hand. "You've learned everything you need to know, and you shall fit in perfectly."

Her gaze met his, finding solace in the conviction of his words. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a flicker of gratitude for the guidance he had provided in the weeks leading up to this momentous night. With a subtle nod, (Y/n) redirected her eyes on the road for the rest of the journey.

The carriage came to a regal halt in front of the grand estate. It loomed like a castle in the moonlit night. (Y/n), stepping out onto the cobblestone courtyard, couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu as the estate's dark and gloomy façade reminded her of the mansion where she had resided for the previous months. As she was observing the place, she wondered if all aristocratic residences were eerie.

They approached the entrance gates, where vigilant guards admitted them upon presentation of the vampire's invitation. Proceeding toward the colossal entrance doors, they were momentarily halted by a figure standing next to a butler.

"Duke de Beauvoir," he greeted politely. A subtle hush fell upon the conversation as he leaned in, adding in a voice barely above a whisper, "Madame Rossignol has been eagerly anticipating your arrival."

With the vampire's hand resting on (Y/n)'s shoulder, she only faintly registered the conversation, her mind wandering elsewhere. The duke's lips tightened as he responded, an undercurrent of frustration palpable in his tone, "This woman is quite persistent."

"As you are aware," the other nobleman continued, "with your companion's frequent absences, people are starting to inquire."

He squeezed (Y/n)'s shoulder absentmindedly. "I wasn't aware you had taken up the habit of conversing with coffee-sisters*, Marquis de Sauge," he inquired with an icy demeanor, his gaze piercing through the veil of polite exchanges.

The marquis, momentarily taken aback, appeared somewhat affronted. "Not at all," he hastily clarified. "I merely wanted to inform you that Madame Rossignol still maintains her interest."

A flicker of annoyance crossed the duke's expression. "I am not interested in that harlot," he responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Thank you for the warning, Marquis de Sauge," he stated, effectively closing the conversation and dismissing the man, who seemed to have received the unspoken message.

The butler approached, extending a red ribbon to the vampire. He declined it, squeezing (Y/n)'s shoulder once more. "She is accompanying me," he declared firmly, a possessive edge in his tone that piqued (Y/n)'s intrigue.

The butler nodded, replacing the red ribbon with a black one. The vampire graciously accepted it and turned to her. He tied it in a delicate bow around her neck, ensuring it was neither too tight nor too loose.

His face morphed into a somber expression and he said darkly : "Under no circumstances are you to remove this."

She nodded, gulping slightly. She entered beside him, taking her first steps into this breathtaking place. This place was truly a sight to behold. (Y/n) stepped through the opulent doors of the grand ballroom, her heart aflutter with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The ballroom itself was a masterpiece. Crystal chandeliers hung from the gilded ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the throngs of elegantly dressed guests. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries that told the stories of the aristocracy's history, each thread spun with tales of grandeur and wealth. The very air seemed to shimmer with anticipation, carrying the faint scent of delicate perfumes and fine wines.

The strains of a waltz filled the room, courtesy of a live orchestra that played with such precision and grace that (Y/n) felt as though she had stepped into a world of magic. The dancers, resplendent in their lavish attire, twirled and swayed in perfect harmony, their graceful movements a testament to the elegance that defined high society.

(Y/n) couldn't help but be overblown by the sheer spectacle of it all. She watched in wide-eyed wonder as the rich and powerful whirled around her, their laughter and conversation like music in itself. She, a mere peasant girl, now stood on the cusp of a life she had only ever imagined, surrounded by beauty, refinement, and the intoxicating allure of the ballroom.

Yet, (Y/n) couldn't shake a growing unease that had settled within her. After mere seconds, she understood why. The guests, who had appeared so elegant and refined, now seemed to be hiding a dark secret. Their movements, appearing graceful and enchanting, were too fluid and eerily silent, their smiles revealing an unsettling gleam in their eyes. The orchestra's melodies that had filled her heart with wonder now carried an ominous undertone, a discordant symphony that sent shivers down her spine. The red drinks were served by servants and then there were the sharp, incisive glances exchanged between the guests, a silent communication that betrayed their shared, hidden nature.

Her heart pounded with terror as the grand ballroom transformed into a surreal nightmare, the once-elegant figures now revealed as creatures of the night. (Y/n)'s grip tightened on the duke's arm, her fingers clinging to him in a desperate bid for reassurance. Trembling, she sought refuge, instinctively hiding behind him as if the vampire's presence could shield her from his kind.

"They're..." The word caught in her throat, the unspeakable truth lingering in the air.

In a hushed tone that cut through the disconcerting whispers of the undead gathering, he whispered, "They will know you are meant to be treated properly." His fingers, gentle as a whisper, traced the black ribbon around her neck. It was a silent promise of protection.

______________

*: A 19th-century term for “malignant gossipers,” according to this website.

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere vampire #yandere father #obsession #yandere #vampire #platonic #x reader #female reader #reader insert #child reader #yandere x reader #kidnapping #tw kidnapping

182 notes · View notes

gffa · 5 days

Text

PLANET: ILUM Astronavigation Data: Ilum system, 7G sector, Unkonwn Regions Orbital Metrics: 1,078 days per year/66 hours per day Goverment: None Population: 5,200 (support crew 45%, temporary researchers 30%, military 20%, other 5%) Languages: None Terrain: Frozen lakes, mountains, ice steppes Major Cities: None Areas of Interest: Holenesh Canyon, Jedi Temple, excavation sites, various ruins Major Exports: Ilum crystals [Source: Star Wars - Force and Destiny - Nexus of Power - Force Worlds] BACKGROUND: Ilum is a small, obscure world located far out in the Unknown Regions. The fifth planet of the Ilum system, it orbits an exceedingly bright blue dwarf star called “Asar.” Surveys of the system by ancient Jedi scouts show a handful of uninhabited, inhospitable worlds that are either heavily irradiated, completely covered in ice, or both. The rest of the system is largely empty, with no asteroid belt and few navigation hazards. Due to its location in the Unknown Regions and its isolation from charted hyperspace lanes, nothing was known of the Ilum system until a wandering Jedi discovered it in the earliest days of the Republic.

Roughly equidistant from Asar and the system’s cometary cloud, Ilum is the only world in the system that can support life. “Support” may be too strong a word for the relationship between Ilum and its flora and fauna, however. It is a large, terrestrial world orbited by two small moons and encircled by a wide set of rings made mostly of ice crystals. It is a land of broad continents, towering mountain ranges, and shallow seas locked in a perpetual ice age. Huge glaciers scour the planet’s face, slowly grinding the land flat. Where the glaciers have passed, deep snows or sheets of ice dozens of meters thick entomb the surface, making agriculture impossible. Ilum's few seas are shallow and broad, their waters choked with great floating ice mountains and thick sheets of drift ice. In addition to its frozen, snowbound landscape, Ilum has an atmosphere that is a near-constantly churning vortex of storms. High winds, sleet, thick snow, and freezing rain are to Ilum what gentle winds and soft rains are to Naboo.

Life, where it can survive, does so primarily along Ilum's equatorial region. Here, at least, the temperatures are only in the double digits below freezing, which has allowed a small number of native plants and animals to evolve. A few eke out an existence on the planet’s frozen surface, but most live either in the icy seas or deep beneath the ground in the uncounted thousands of kilometers of caverns and tunnels that worm through the planet’s crust. Savage gorgodons, cunning asharl panthers, and the terrifying razhak call Ilum home, along with hardy species of small rodents, birds, and worms. Alongside these are tough plants and fungi adapted to sub-zero temperatures, many of them completely undocumented.

LIFE ON ILUM: To date, no evidence has been found to suggest that sentient life ever evolved on Ilum. There are no ruins, nothing in the fossil record, and nothing recorded in the galaxy’s various ancient databases to suggest that Ilum was ever anything more than an obscure, uninhabited frozen rock. Indeed, the planet would have stayed that way until Asar burned itself out if the Jedi hadn’t come along and stumbled onto a discovery that would make it one of the most important places in the galaxy to that ancient order.

ILUM'S HISTORY: Ilum's recorded history begins tens of thousands of years ago with its discovery by a Jedi scout whose name is lost to history, performing Force-assisted hyperspace navigation. As the scout moved through the hyperspace lanes, she was drawn to the Unknown Regions by a particularly powerful resonance in the Force. Following the siren call of the Force resonance, the scout eventually discovered a lonely, hitherto uncharted system in the far reaches of the Unknown Regions, centered around a bright, blue-white star. The Force was strong throughout the system, but there was something powerful, something special, on the fifth planet, and that's where the Jedi scout focused her attentions.

The first scout's initial reports, as well as those from sub sequent survey teams, reported a barren, windswept world of tall, jagged mountains and shallow, frozen seas locked away beneath dozens of meters of ice. No settlements or ancient ruins were discovered, and all evidence pointed to the world being devoid of sentient life. What the teams did find was a world that, despite its inhospitable environment, managed to support some plant and animal life. Packs of large felinoids stalked the planet's steppelands; huge, slow moving aquatic mammals thrived in the icy seas; powerful and aggressive humanoid reptiles haunted the many mountain chains; and plants and fungi clung to life in sheltered spots away from the constant wind. These animals and plants didn't explain the planet's strong Force shadow, however. Its presence in the Force was enormous, a fact that the surveyors could not explain until one team was chased into a mountain cavern by dangerous creatures and discovered Ilum's real wealth.

Beneath Ilum's ice sheets and permafrost, the planet's crust is honeycombed by countless kilometers of interlocking cave systems. Within these caves, the escaping survey team discovered a motherlode of pontite, mephite, and other kyber crystals—the heart of a Jedi's lightsaber. The discovery of Ilum's mineral wealth quickly changed the char acter of Ilum's exploration from one of curiosity to one of grave importance to the Jedi Council. Upon receipt of the news that Ilum possessed an incredible wealth of kyber crystals, the Council immediately dispatched teams of scholars, artisans, and warriors to secure the world and to further study its natural wealth and importance to the Force. To pro tect the crystals, the Council made a decision to keep Ilum's existence a secret from the galaxy at large, and a number of steps were taken to ensure that it stayed that way. Hyperspace surveyors mapped out an uninterrupted, dedicated hyperspace lane from Metellos, a world in the Core region, straight to Ilum's orbit. The navigation of this route was so complex that a ship’s pilot needed to be at least sensitive to the Force, if not a fully trained Jedi Master, to even attempt it. In addition, all references to Ilum in official reports were quashed, and the world was even kept from local, sector wide, and galaxy star charts.

DARK LEGENDS: For thousands of years, the Jedi Order kept Ilum and its bounty secret and safe from harm. Generations of Jedi, from the greenest Padawans to the most ancient masters, traveled from all across the galaxy to search for crystals, study the planet and its connection to the Force, and enjoy the mental quiet of the uninhabited world. There is a nearly forgotten legend that speaks of a dark and violent time in the planet’s past, however. Ancient sources suggest that the Sith may have laid siege to the world, eventually taking possession of it for a time.

ENTWINED WITH THE JEDI: With Ilum secure, the exploration of the world and its connection to the Force was begun in earnest. Numerous settle ments were founded over the subsequent decades, typically near the sites of important scientific or Force-related discoveries. At places with a particularly powerful connection to the Force, the Jedi erected temples that served as training centers or pilgrimage sites where members of the order could go to meditate and heal. In addition, thanks to the abundance of kyber crystals on the planet, the Jedi Council established a massive, baroque temple over the entrance to the largest and richest cavern complex the survey teams had discovered. Once it was completed, the council began sending Padawans to Ilum to harvest the crystal for their lightsaber and to undergo the important training rituals associated with lightsaber construction.

Countless Jedi over the millennia traveled there to build their first lightsaber or to find crystals to build new ones. Eventually, as other sources of kyber crystals were exhaust ed or became otherwise unavailable, Ilum became the Jedi’s sole source of these precious crystals. While the planet remained a place of great importance, the Jedi Council recalled those members who were living on Ilum and shuttered all their settlements and temples save for the main temple used for lightsaber construction. With the world’s inhabitants gone, its glaciers and ice sheets quickly consumed the Jedi settlements and research sites, burying them beneath dozens or hundreds of meters of ice. By the beginning of the Clone Wars, there were no permanent residents on Ilum, nor any real evidence that there ever had been, and the main temple stood empty, save for the occasional Jedi pilgrim there to find a new kyber crystal.

CRYSTAL CAVES: Home to perhaps the largest deposit of kyber crystals any where in the galaxy, Ilum’s crystal caves were said to be the Jedi’s most sacred place by none other than Jedi Master Yoda himself. Winding for countless kilometers through and beneath Ilum’s largest mountain range, the crystal caves were first explored in the ancient past. Within the labyrinth of corridors, shafts, tunnels, and chambers is a staggering wealth of the kyber crystals—mainly mephite and pontite— that make up the searing heart of every Jedi’s lightsaber. Within a few short years of the crystal caves’ discovery, the Jedi Order erected a temple over the entrance to protect the caverns from trespass and to provide shelter and training facilities for visiting Jedi. The caves eventually became a pilgrimage destination for Jedi seeking crystals for new lightsabers and were incorporated into a Padawan coming-of-age ceremony called “the Gathering.”

The stone from which the crystal caves are carved is a smooth, black, basalt-like volcanic rock that absorbs light and is surprisingly easy to work with. The crystals themselves grow unimpeded from the walls and ceilings of the caverns and can occasionally be found littering the floors of corridors and chambers. In many places, the crystals can be removed from the surrounding stone by hand, and even the most stubborn, inaccessible crystal veins require only basic hand tools to excavate. It was this ease of excavation as much as the sheer quantity of crystal deposits that made the crystal caves so valuable to the Jedi.

Despite the millennia in which the Jedi lived and worked on Ilum and the planet’s importance to the order, surprisingly little of the crystal caves’ total area has been explored. Most of the known caverns lie within the boundaries of the temple’s training area, and those few charted areas outside of the temple’s footprint are a warren of dead-end caves, tunnels that turn in on themselves and either come to abrupt ends or plunge thousands of meters into dark cracks, and a confusion of chambers, side caves, and strange rock formations. The sheer size of the cave complex is staggering, with some ancient survey records suggesting thousands or even tens of thousands of kilometers of tunnels and caves stretching deep into the bowels of the planet. In addition, the Force tends to have a distressingly disorienting effect on visitors to the caverns. So powerful is the presence of the Force in the crystal caves that it causes vivid hallucinations in even the most guarded mind. This has led many an explorer astray; countless Jedi have wandered into the uncharted portions of the crystal caves in pursuit of some phantom, never to be heard from again.

JEDI RUINS: The Jedi worked and lived on Ilum for almost as long as they existed as an order. While they never established cities there—it was too remote, too hard to reach, and too sacred to the Jedi for that—they did build scattered small settlements, research stations, temples, observation posts, and other structures on and beneath the planet’s surface. These abandoned sites lie scattered all across Ilum in various states of ruin.

Some are still intact, seemingly awaiting the return of their inhabitants; others are little more than rubble. Most, however, have been buried deep beneath the shifting glaciers and massive, slow-moving ice sheets that cover most of Ilum’s surface. Nevertheless, a number of interesting sites can still be found here and there in sheltered mountain passes, at the bottoms of valleys, or within Ilum’s labyrinthine cave systems. One such ruin is the settlement at Holenesh Canyon.

HOLENESH CANYON: Located some five hundred kilometers from the main Jedi Temple at the mouth of the crystal caves, Holenesh Canyon is a deep, sheer-sided cleft in the planet’s surface over a kilometer deep that runs for roughly ten kilometers through one of Ilum's vast mountain ranges. The settlement, once home to around one hundred sentients, was built near the canyon’s end in the shadow of the mountain range’s highest peaks. It was established millennia ago to study a strange fluctuation in the Force that seemed to occur only once every few hundred years. Named for the Jedi who first recorded the anomaly, this small, isolated outpost stood for centuries before being destroyed in an avalanche triggered by a massive groundquake coinciding with the reappearance of the Force anomaly. Many of the settlement’s inhabitants were killed as they slept, but some managed to escape with little more than the clothes on their backs or what they could grab in their flight. Further seismic disturbances, combined with freak storms, prevented the mounting of a proper rescue mission, and by the time the Jedi were able to return to the canyon, the settlement was completely covered in snow and countless tons of fallen stone.

In the millennia since the destruction of the settlement, parts of it have been exposed through erosion and seismic activity. While the buildings are barely recognizable as such, their contents were surprisingly well preserved. Thanks to the remoteness of the ruined settlement and the difficulty of reaching it, precious little has been removed from the site. Anyone possessing the skills and courage to excavate the site might unearth any number of ancient Jedi relics.

CREATURES AND CHALLENGES: Ilum's climate is exceptionally harsh. Its land and most of its surface water are locked away beneath glaciers and permanent sheets of ice. Temperatures, even in what are usually considered temperate or tropical zones on other worlds, can sink to dozens of degrees below freezing. These temperatures are typically accompanied by howling gales and blizzards full of driving snow and ice shards. Few creatures, and even fewer plants, live on Ilum. To survive in these brutal conditions, Ilum's creatures and plants are both extremely hardy and extremely dangerous.

ASHARL PANTHER [RIVAL]: Asharl panthers are one of the more common predators on Ilum. They are large, aggressive, territorial felines that make their homes in Ilum's high northern and southern latitudes. Adult asharl panthers average between two and three meters long and stand roughly one meter high at the shoulder. Their four powerful legs end in two-toed feet equipped with nonretractable claws. The creatures’ bodies are covered in dense, smooth fur in shades of white, gray, and blue that holds their body heat in to protect them from the cold and driving wind. They have broad, earless heads with pronounced brow ridges, and their faces are remark ably expressive, with short, blunt snouts and golden eyes. The most noticeable feature is a pair of long, tentacle-like sensory organs that grow from their shoulders. Asharl panthers live in small family groups and typically hunt in pairs or in groups of four.

BLISMAL [MINION]: Blismal are small, furry, inoffensive rodents who live in the tunnels and caverns deep beneath Ilum's surface. About the size of a grown human’s hand, blismal have four legs; sharp featured faces with small black eyes, round ears, and long snouts; and short, hairless tails. Their bodies are covered in thick, luxurious, silvery fur that keeps them warm and sheds water and dirt. They feed mostly on cave fungus and insects, and they are happy to be left alone in the dark to live out their lives.

Like the harmless snowfeathers, which live on the surface, blismal have few natural predators. This is largely due to their speed and cautious natures, although they do have a frighteningly effective defense mechanism. When frightened, blismal make a shrill, painful, and sustained shrieking noise to ward off attackers and call for assistance from other blismal. When three or more blismal join in, they create a howl loud enough to shatter crystals and cause cave-ins, an ability that Jedi experienced firsthand long ago. The Jedi attributed this ability to the blismal’s close connection to the Force, and were able to counter the effects of the shrieking by manipulating the Force around the creatures. In doing so, Jedi exploring Ilum's cavern system were able to capture blismal, which turned out to be relatively easy to domesticate.

GORGODON [RIVAL]: Gorgodons are, perhaps, the most famous creatures to live on frozen Ilum. They are massive, non-sentient, thick-skinned reptilian creatures with long, powerful arms, short legs, and an axe-shaped head. A thick, shaggy coat of dark gray fur covers them from their shoulders to their feet, leaving only their head, which is a sickly orange color, bare to the elements. Gorgodons are incredibly strong and can with stand almost any punishment. It is said that they can even shrug off blaster bolts. They are a dangerous combination of dumb, aggressive, and brutal, and are one of the few animals that attack for no good reason. When the Jedi first arrived on Ilum, the gorgodons were the creatures that gave them the most trouble. Throughout the Jedi Order, the name of this creature was used in threats and curses, such as “thick as a gorgodon” or “as angry as a gorgodon’s mother.”

RAZHAK [NEMESIS]: Among the most fearsome predators on Ilum, these massive creatures are as agile as they are deadly. Averaging around eight meters in length, razhak-are armored, segmented, wormlike creatures that propel themselves using rippling muscle ridges. Their bodies are broad and flat, covered with thick, chitinous plates in shades of white and blue. While they have no apparent eyes, their heads are topped with long, segmented antennae that serve as sensory organs. Their huge mouths feature multiple rows of serrated teeth.

Aggressive and solitary, razhak live in the endless tunnel systems beneath Ilum's surface. They are deceptively fast and, when they attack, they rear up like a serpent and at tempt to swallow prey whole. Anything they can’t eat in one bite they tear into pieces by grasping it in their mouth and shaking it violently. In addition to possessing great speed and a savage demeanor, razhak also can generate intense heat strong enough to rapidly melt solid ice and cause serious burns to exposed flesh. This ability allows them to tunnel through ice as though it were soft sand. Razhak usually build their nests inside of ice walls or densely packed snow, typically leaving the nest only to eat or mate.

Thankfully, while they are terrifying to behold and extremely dangerous, razhak are also easily distracted and creatures of minimal intelligence. Keeping this in mind, a clever opponent can easily outflank them, lead them into traps, or make them lose interest in attacking altogether.

SNOWFEATHER [MINION]: Snowfeathers are small, clever, flightless birds native to Ilum. Their bodies are covered in a dense layer of oily, white feathers that protects them from Ilum's bone-chilling cold and vicious weather. Relatively harmless creatures, they live in nesting colonies built into ice shelves or cliff faces.

Despite their inoffensive nature and inability to fly, snowfeathers have few natural predators, for two reasons. First, their meat tastes terrible and is mildly poisonous, causing painful cramps, bloating, and loosening of the bowels in those unfortunate enough to eat them. Second, they have a connection to the Force that gives them the ability to project an illusion that makes them seem larger and more formidable than they really are. These characteristics have allowed them to survive and even thrive on an inhospitable planet full of savage creatures like gorgodons and asharl panthers.

#lumi.txt #star wars #jedi order #ilum #meta #reference #planets of the gffa

103 notes · View notes

xjulixred45x · 5 months

Text

Lotor x Pearl!GN! Reader

Request: Now that the requests are open I want to do one about Voltron (again), about Lotor headcanons with a reader who is like a pearl from Steven Universe, who probably was a "gift" from his governess, I imagine that reader @ is a very scared but sweet person who is afraid of disappointing Lotor and that he will throw them away because of that (traumas from the past before meeting him). I just want some comfort from one of my favorite Voltron characters💕

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Warnings: allusions/mentions of past abuse, reader at first treated more like an object than a person, fear of abandonment, somewhat confusing timeline for the sake of the plot? HURT with Comfort, Fluff, non-canon ending of Voltron for my sanity :') Lotor What have they done to you?

You come from a very... special planet to say the least.

Especially you were born in a social caste that was considered the lowest, so you were trained all your life to be the future accessory of a powerful person. As bad as it sounded.

This was obviously not a pleasant process, especially with the Garla empire breathing down your planet's neck.

You could say that you got especially ruthless training, the slightest mistake was severely reprimanded, only to know that if you did it in REAL practice you most likely wouldn't come out alive...

Then the Garla Empire took possession of your planet. Everyone was terrified of what could happen, YOU were terrified of what was going to happen to you.

But fortunately? You were given as a personal servant to the Garla, along with many others, in exchange for not destroying the planet completely.

But you were lucky enough that it was your turn to serve the Prince of the Garla, Lotor.

This was before the Paladins intervened, so even when they arrived, this still stood.

To say that you were scared was to say, you were terrified of what was going to happen. What if he was one of those super strict princes? What if he had a bad temper? What if he got angry with you and got physical? And If it hurts you? Or worse?

You set out to be as correct and upright as possible for this new position, apparently you would be a gift, well, maybe you don't have to do much, you can do this.

Dayak barely talks to you, although the first time you meet her is only so she can give you a checkup to make sure you live up to her expectations, and fortunately you are and she seems very satisfied.

Before meeting this "Lotor" she gives you a tour of the Garla main ship in a vague way so that you become familiar with everything and thus adapt quickly before seeing Lotor. The ship is GIANT so it takes a while.

Although at least with this you can hear some people talking and whispering about Lotor, apparently the winner of the "Kral Zera", the first Half-Blood emperor and Zarkon's heir...someone to have fear apparently.

Let's just say they didn't make you feel much better.

But at the end of the day you finally meet him. Is he together with what appear to be the paladins of Voltron? And Dayak makes his presence quite noticeable (poor paladin Blue and especially yellow).

Before retiring, Dayak introduced you to Lotor, as his new personal assistant, to serve him in any way he wanted.

To your surprise, Lotor seemed just as off guard as you, it seems that he had forgotten the deal with the Kral Zera matter, it is understandable, but it was especially shocking when he apologized to you because he could not introduce himself properly, since he had a VERY busy day with the Voltron thing...

....weren't you supposed to come help him with that? What Quiznak?

You tried to tell him that, that you could help him manage that, but he said no! That for now he could handle himself well, but that you should give him time to think of something for you...

okay that was VERY strange

But a nice strange? Lotor was not like you thought he would be.

Even when he finally did what he had to do with the Paladins and Princess Allura (love of a person), he still treated you with a respect you weren't used to.

you were mainly in charge of his agenda with the other Garla leaders and works like that, together with the Paladins and Princess Allura, etc. It wasn't a heavy job, but it required attention to detail and you definitely went out of your way to make it perfect.

And contrary to what you thought, you received some recognition from your, so to speak, Boss (because Lotor hated it when you called him "master" or "owner"), Lotor was grateful that you helped him and that you were so diligent, He let you know when he kept you up to date.

You could even have conversations with him! It wasn't something you had been prepared for in the least, but it was nice, Lotor was someone very intelligent and even had an interesting sarcastic sense of humor. You learned a lot by talking to him.

In turn, Lotor learned more about your species based on his experience with you, although at first it was difficult for him, because you insisted on keeping a certain distance, but he was able to make his way through your walls.

He found you quite pleasant and even charming! Lotor always tried to see other species with equal respect, and for you to see him from such a high place (without the need for violence, just doing his job) made him feel very good about himself.

And the feeling was mutual.

It made you feel calmer about all of this, that everything was going better than you thought. You had ended up with an owner--ahem, Boss- who was nicer than you expected and everything seemed fine--

But then you made a MISTAKE.

You were trying to get used to one of the controls on Lotor's main ship and out of nowhere the controls stopped working. They didn't respond, didn't work and seemed glitched.

You realized that you had pressed the wrong places (used to the mothership controls) and that you had "messed up" this one.

But all you could think about was the trouble you'd get into with Lotor.

Oh no oh no oh no What am I going to do? What are they're going to do to me? They're going to have to throw me away, right? How can I get through this? What if they kill me? What if--

You were so panicked that when Lotor arrives you don't notice.

And it only makes you even more afraid.

Lotor asks what happened, but he starts checking the console on his own and realizes what happened, he knows what you did--

And you can't stand the urge to cry anymore.

Lotor honestly freaks out, he thought you would have gotten hurt and that's why you were crying so much, but you were apologizing for breaking the console, and saying that you were fine with being replaced with someone more capable as long as please, please don't kill you...

Even if he didn't show it much on the outside (it's a habit up to this point he's sorry for it), it hurt Lotor to see you like this. And even more so for something so small. Is this why you thought he was going to replace you? Kill you?? Although he sees that it's mostly because you've been traumatized before, so he's not offended (at all).

Lotor tries to calm you down, explain to you that it's not a big deal. It's not broken! It just needs to restart! Please don't cry! He's not going to replace you! Much less touch a hair on your head! You are save with him...

He ends up fixing the console to prove his point and you calm down, something like that, both of your emotions are running high.

From there, you are a little more alert for your possible "mistakes" and honestly, Lotor misses how you were before this little incident, now it seems like you are walking on eggshells (Whatever that means? The blue Paladin said it ) when you are around him.

He discovers that he misses talking to you more than he thought, he is not someone who gets attached easily, but finally having someone who respected him as a person and not as Prince Garla and that you are now in this scared state hurts him.

So it does something... surprising.

He asks the Paladins and Allura for help.

Obviously some make fun of him a little ahem LANCE AND PIDGE ahem, but for the most part they try to give him good advice on how to approach the situation, although they all have a common idea.

TALK IT DIRECTLY or let you adjust naturally again (which seemed unlikely without the former).

So he did it, he call you to speak alone.

Sincerely? You almost died of fright. This on your planet was a VERY BAD omen, VERY BAD.

so imagine your surprise when Lotor was REALLY alone when you went to see him, but you still remained nervous, this man could destroy you with just one arm after all.

But Lotor...just talks.

And he gets straight to the point, he does NOT plan to replace you, he does NOT plan to hurt you, he does not want you to think that you are so expendable, especially when he has come to enjoy your company so much, you can rest assured, mistakes happen, we ALL make them, he prefers that you make them. a thousand mistakes to not having you at all.

Being honest? It was quite nice.

And you were able to be more...at peace with yourself after that. Be the sweet assistant again.

If we talk about advanced terms of a romantic relationship, IT'S PURE FLUFF.

Lotor has shown that he doesn't give a shit about race, so he has no problem relating to you even if you're not even half Garla. What if someone has a problem? They won't have it anymore :)

If your planet is still under the control of the Garla, it is most likely that Lotor has forced them to have laws and a more egalitarian legislature, your people have not lived so well in decapheobes! Of course, there are those who are still not used to it and others who are directly against it, but that always happens.

Lotor is patient when it comes to old wizard habits, chances are you'll still be that way! But more as a consort😅

Get ready, now that it is certain that he loves you and that you love him too, there is no escape from affection. Lotor is aware that he's touch-starved, but when you discover through this that YOU'RE touch-starved TOO, it's like, the perfect mix.

Lotor is the most openly affectionate, which helps you gain some courage to do the same, although of course, when it comes to making the other person nervous, you never win (although Lotor MELT inside seeing you try).

Lots of physical contact!! Especially at events with too many people and where you can easily feel overloaded, it's a quick way to calm yourself down and for Lotor to be happy and calm (literally, if they want to calm him down they have to bring you into the room and he's INSTANTLY in a good mood again).

You have a friendship with Allura! She jokingly says that you're too good for Lotor, but in a loving way.

The Paladins don't understand how Quiznak, someone as sweet as you ended up with Lotor. Did they threaten you? Blink twice if so--

Your nature is now a little more curious, you see everything with new eyes, it is something tender for Lotor, for him most of these things are everyday, but for you it is something new and even unique, it is nice.

He also now handles your crises better when PTSD strikes, takes you somewhere spacious, keeps some distance so you can breathe better, and when you recover he is on you for the rest of the day, quite worried.

In general, Lotor sees his partner with equal respect and love regardless of their race, social status or how they met, he loves you regardless of everything or how you perceive yourself. You are his equal, his partner, nothing changes that.

Reglogs, shares and Comments are very welcome!!

#headcanons #neutral reader #lotor x reader #vld lotor #voltron lotor #lotor #prince lotor #pearl su #voltron #voltron legendary defender x reader #voltron legendary defender #voltron ld

135 notes · View notes

gunpowderdtim · 6 months

Text

i wonder what me and @miralines rpverse ouatisblr would look like

10 notes

🌅 atypicalarielien follow 🔁 antiroyalribbons follow

🤡 normalpeopleonly follow

dni if you think that freckles luck should in ANY way be involved in goverment. i mean she's a rose red why should we ever trust that? theyre all monsters i thought this was well established when they FUCKING KILLED US FOR 30 YEARS??? wtf

🥀 antiroyalribbons follow

uh freckles luck did NOT spend 30 fucking years fighting for the rebels for you to call her a rose red. she's made it clear she's just a normal person dozens of times what is WRONG with you

🤡 normalpeopleonly follow

she's still a fucking clone. they put chips in their brains, did you know that? theyre all mind controlled and shit why should we ever fucking trust one. with fucking government programs. i dont care if she 'seems' 'normal' she's just a rose red. i dont get why they didn't kill them all anyway

🥀 antiroyalribbons follow

SHE'S A WAR VETERAN?????? BRUH. you owe your freedom to her she helped kill the fucking king?????

⚫ zanti-deactivated02334432

I think mentioning she assisted the new regime is unnecessary. RR-11678 betrayed the crown in 4395. I think either way she should be shot. Rose Reds, especially defective ones are a hazard. She betrayed the king once. If the new "president" Marion Belle were any sort of intelligent she would have her killed. She betrayed once. She could do it again.

🥀 antiroyalribbons follow

oh now the crown loyalists are here. @normalpeopleonly look what you attracted. this is why we shouldn't give people like op energy

🌅 atypicalarielien follow

bros stop reblogging this it has captain luck fucking id in it she's said like twice to stop spreading that information further...

1,312 notes

🌅 atypicalarielien follow 🔁 zanti2 follow

🌅 atypicalarielien follow

you guys ever think about how hot rose reds are 😳🏳️‍🌈

🪙 zanti2 follow

they are not people.

🌅 atypicalarielien follow

motherfucker you made an alt just to harass me i get it you're a crown loyalist why dont you go suck coles dick. oh wait. he's dead. maybe you should join him

5 notes

🥀 antiroyalribbons follow

everyone should read Althea Black's new book: The Army With a Single Face: Firsthand Accounts of Rose Reds in the Crown War. it really puts the whole war from the perspective of a rose red into mind. really fucked up.

123 notes

🟥 realredhood follow 🔁 antiroyalribbons follow

🪫 ravenousrebeliousraven follow

crazy how president marion belle and her husband are getting divorced... guess that's what the war ending does do a relationship

🟥 realredhood follow ☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️

its because belle sucks ass lmafo

🪫 ravenousrebeliousraven follow

RED HOOD?????

🥀 antiroyalribbons follow

only on sptumblr do we get war veterans gossiping about divorses. i guess. also is this government secrets or

🟥 realredhood follow ☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️

5,678 notes

🌅 atypicalarielien follow

can't believe that people threw rocks at fucking Rose Prince on the beach like. what. she's not a giant literally look at her stature..... this was like 3 miles from my house hell world can i move to fucking mulberry or some shit

1 note

🟥 realredhood follow ☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️

if i get 100k notes ill leak crown and rebel documents on my sptwitch

#the mechanisms #the mechs #ouatis #rose red #once upon a time in space

223 notes · View notes

chronicallycouchbound · 7 months

Text

“Benefits” my ass.

These are mandatory forms for General Assistance, which pays for my rent, household needs ($45) and some food (100$).

I am disabled and have been fighting for SSI since 2017. Once I am eventually approved, I have to use my backpay to pay back a portion of this (about 1/3 of my backpay, my lawyer gets another 1/3, I get whats left).

In order to have housing (after YEARS of homelessness) I have to waive my rights to confidentiality for my own medical records.

Note that “phone bills” are misspent money. I am entirely reliant on someone else’s kindness to be on their phone plan. This had to be approved by my GA caseworker. I NEED a phone, not just for my dozens of appointments to manage my life threatening chronic health conditions and serious mental illnesses, but also to call the pharmacy, to call my landlord, DHHS, heating assistance programs, case management and therapy, AND, of course, for my monthly general assistance appointment. Yes. They REQUIRE me to have a phone AND I cannot pay for it. I have zero income since I’m unable to work anyways.

What happens if I “misuse” these theoretical funds? Federal prison time, a mandatory minimum of 1 year, PLUS disqualification of all government services for up to 5 years.

So yeah, “Benefits” my ass.

23 notes · View notes

qaymaw · 21 days

Text

I wrote a list of the crimes commited by important characters in Moriarty the Patriot. This is only the anime so characters exclussive to the manga won't appear, nor will crimes commited in arcs exclussive to the manga.

This is an extremley long list, also may contain spoilers if you haven't watched the anime/read the manga, however they shouldn't be to bad.

William James Moriarty 30 crimes

Intimidation

Bribing

Death threats

Threats of violence

Kidnapping

Accessory to murder

Impersonation/Identity theft

Inciting violence/murder/genocide

Arson

First-degree murder

Manipulation/Brainwashing

Contract killing/assassination

Coercion

Framing

Assisted suicide¹

Suicide baiting¹

Mass murder

Genocide

Destruction of property

Domestic terrorism²

Conspiracy to overthrow the system/nobility

Conspiracy to commit murder/genocide

Manipulation of political affairs

Attempted suicide¹

Evading arrest

Obstruction of justice

Treason

Breaking and entering

Organised crime²

Illegal possesion of a firearm³

Albert James Moriarty 21 crimes

Leaking government secrets

Organised crime²

Accesory to murder

Assault with the intent to kill/assault with a deadly weapon

First-degree murder

Arson

Manipulation/Brainwashing

Contract killing/assassination

Coercion

Framing

Assisted Suicide¹

Suicide Baiting¹

Mass murder

Genocide

Destruction of property

Domestic Terrorism²

Conspiracy to overthrow the system/nobility

Conspiracy to commit murder/genocide

Treason

Patricide

Matricide

Fratricide

Louis James Moriarty 21 crimes

Intimidation

Death threats

Threats of violence

Accessory to murder

Arson

First-degree murder

Manipulation/Brainwashing

Contract killing/assassination

Coercion

Framing

Assisted suicide¹

Suicide baiting¹

Mass murder

Genocide

Destruction of property

Domestic terrorism²

Conspiracy to overthrow the system/nobility

Conspiracy to commit murder/genocide

Organised crime²

Treason

Breaking and entering

James Bonde 18 crimes

Theft

High treason

Impersonation of royalty/Identity theft

Arson

Evading the police/goverment

Destruction of property

Extortion

Exploitation

Blackmail

Domestic terrorism²

Conspiracy to overthrow the system/nobility

Assault

Conspiracy to commit mureder/genocide

Infiltration

Organised crime²

Treason

Contract killing/Assassination

Accessory to murder

Illegal possession of firearms³

Sebastian Moran 15 crimes

First-degree murder

Contract killing/Assassination

Assisted suicide¹

Suicide baiting¹

Mass murder

Genocide

Accessory to murder

Domestic terrorism²

Conspiracy to overthrow the system/nobility

Assault

Conspircay to commit murder/genocide

Gambling

Organised crime²

Treason

Breaking and entering

Illegal possession of firearms³

Fred Porlock 15 crimes

Impersonation

Accesory to murder

Contract killing/Assassination

First-degree murder

Suicide baiting¹

Assisted suicide¹

Mass murder

Genocide

Domestic terrorism²

Conspiracy to overthrow the system/nobility

Conspiracy to commit murder/genocide

Organised crime²

Treason

Breaking and entering

Desercration of a corpse

Jack Renfield (AKA Jack the Ripper) 11 crimes

Hiring a contract killer/Assassin

Desercration of a corpse

Assault

Impersonation

Evading the police

Accessory to murder

Domestic terrorism²

Conspiracy to overthrow the system/nobility

Conspiracy to commit murder/genocide

Organised crime²

Treason

Von Herder 8 crimes

Accesory to murder

Domestic terrorism²

Conspiracy to overthrow the system/nobility

Conspiracy to commit murder/genocide

Illegal weapons dealing/creating/inventing

Organised crime²

Treason

Illegal possession of firearms³

Zack Paterson 8 crimes

Accesory to murder

Conspiracy to overthrow the system/nobility

Conspiracy to commit murder/genocide

Eavesdropping

Infaltration

Domestic terrorism²

Treason

Organised crime²

Sherlock Holmes 6 crimes

Breaking and entering

Destruction of property

Attempted suicide¹

Second-degree murder

Illegal possesion of firearms³

Arson

Mycroft Holmes 3 crimes

Accessory to murder

Affiliation with a terrorist organisation

Leaking government secrets

Notes

¹Suicide Act 1961. This act removed suicide as a crime in England and Wales, meaning those who survived a suicide attempt could not be prosecuted. Family members of those who did not survive could no longer be prosecuted either. However, under Suicide Act 1961, Section 2, it remains a crime for a third party to encourage or assist in the suicide of another.

²Terrorism or Organised Crime (or both)

Definitions:

Terrorism: The unlawful use of violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims.

Organised crime: Criminal activities that are planned and controlled by powerful groups and carried out on a large scale.

The motive of organised crime is often, but not always, financial.

The Moriarty Plan is a force of violence with the intention of political change. This violence is commited against their home country meaning this is domestic terrorism. They have no wish for financial gain, however, because they are commiting crimes that are planned and controlled, this is also organised crime. Those directly involved in The Moriarty Plan and its execution are therefore guilty of both terrorism and organised crime.

³The Gun License Act 1870. This act meant that anyone may still purchase a gun, however a license was required to have one off your personal property for any reason. This means that James Bonde and Sebatian Moran are both guilty of illegal possession of a firearm as they are both legally dead and therefore cannot have a gun license. However, Sherlock, William and Von Herder are never disclosed to have a gun license but this does not mean they do not have one as they would be perfectly elligable to get one. If they do all own a gun license, this takes Sherlock's crimes down to 5, William's crimes down to 29 and Von Herder's crimes down to 7.

#albert james moriarty #moriarty the patriot #louis james moriarty #william james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #sebastian moran #fred porlock #jack renfield #mycroft holmes #sherlock holmes #james bonde #von herder

89 notes · View notes

boundinparchment · 4 months

Text

Con Clavi - I

You serve the church of the Tsaritsa, under Father Pantalone. Faith is a gift you received long ago but a certain heretical Harbinger is determined to push those boundaries. Il Dottore/Female Reader. Eventual Pantalone/Female Reader. Reader is a Canoness/Nun. Inspired in part by straw-bunbun's Priest Pantalone art. Story is rated Explicit. Minors DNI. Religious symbolism, corruption, many many liberties, eventual smut. Dead Dove applies. Available on AO3 here.

You suppressed a shiver as you listened to the reading by the man standing at the pulpit. This hour was always the most difficult, you found, not because of the service itself, but because it was always coldest just before dawn. Of all of the hours of the Divine Office, Prime was, by far, the most tedious.

Those who wanted to stop in for service before they began their day of work did so and were scattered amid the pews.

Father Pantalone continued on with a prayer concerning work and called for a blessing from the Tsaritsa for those whose safety would be compromised that day. He treated Agents and miners as equals in his service; before the eyes of Her Most Holy, all were human, Hers to protect.

Your knees ached from genuflection, the wooden kneeler only marginally better than the stone beneath it. There was no cushioning here. Some said it was because the Father was a stingy miser; others claimed it served as a reminder that the Tsaritsa’s love was the true comfort.

After this, you would eat in silence before delving into a contemplative study for the morning. Terce would be observed, and then you would begin your day.

As a canoness, it was expected of you to take on a social service as part of your dedication. You spent most of your mornings and afternoons educating noble daughters in-between observations of the canonical hours.

You felt more like a governess than a nun at times. If not for your strong pull to the faith, you would have considered such a position.

Fate had other plans.

And it was better than nursing.

You needed the Father’s opinion on a particular student prior to their appointment, now that the thought crossed your mind.

As service wrapped up, you responded with the appropriate, “Glory to the Tsaritsa,” before the procession exited the sanctuary, accompanied by song.

The Father usually waited in the narthex to see people off. With so few in attendance, save the monastic communities, perhaps you would be able to speak with Father Pantalone early...that would save you the headache later.

You waited until the congregation cleared out and then made your way over to the golden-eyed priest, smoothing out your white tunic, the color expected of your order.

“Good morning, Father. May I have a word?” you asked.

“Blessing be upon you, sister. What can I assist with?”

He always wore a smile, as he did now, one that fooled the common person into making a decision to put even their very last mora into the donation tray during mass. Such an act would, to some, seem disingenuous, corrupt even. It ensured that the church remained open.

Towards you, the gesture was an attempt to keep you from taking too much of his time. If he were approachable at this hour, you would not seek him out again.

“One of my students was recently betrothed, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes, I gave approval on the match to both families. The announcement should be out this week, Archons willing. Is there reason for concern?”

His smile grew tighter as the words passed his lips. A strange man, Father Pantalone; full faith in the Tsaritsa but a strange disdain for the rest of the pantheon. Your revered mother once said that with the way he balanced the church’s books, one would think he worshipped Deus Auri (or Yanwang Dijun as you once heard used).

Usually the request you were about to make would have gone to the revered mother you served but both families supported the church financially. They paid for the recent reinforced ceiling above your head and the doors that kept out the cold.

Doors that were pushed open by a single figure with a white cloak, bird-like mask over his eyes, and a vicious grin. His blue hair was plastered with snow, which he trudged in without so much as a toe-tap.

Only Harbingers such as the Father himself wore martial bands on their cloaks, you knew. And this man certainly wasn’t Tartaglia.

“Shut the door, Dottore. You didn’t have to bring the weather with you,” Father Pantalone snapped, his smile dropping instantly. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

The man you now knew as Dottore waved an errant hand and the front doors to the church slammed shut with a final gust of wind.

“I’m heading back to the Palace after an examination of the northern chasm. Surely even you wouldn’t allow a fellow heretic such as myself to freeze, would you? Doesn’t everyone have a place among your flock, Father Regrator?”

He spoke with an arrogance that made your blood boil even more. As if his interruption wasn’t enough.

The priest regarded the other man with exasperation and disdain, his authority immediately undermined. It was well-known that Father Pantalone held the Tsaritsa in the highest regard, which most used to refute the rumors that he was nothing more than a money-hungry clergyman. It was an accusation you never thought to be rooted in anything other than envy and spite.

But Lord Harbinger Dottore spoke with a level of certainty that only came with his position.

Father Pantalone turned his attention back to you, intent on ignoring Dottore, who was now looking up at the ceiling with a sharp-toothed snarl.

“Excuse my colleague’s interruption, Sister. What were you saying?”

“The young lady wrote a recent essay regarding the duty of the faithful. It was an interesting analysis on the purpose of marriage and how one might consider matchmaking to be an antithesis to fate. Her family’s recent choice is clearly a source of contention.”

“A topic that you’re more than equipped to handle, Sister. After all, you ran away from your own betrothal, did you not?”

You swallowed the dark desire to ask the Tsaritsa to damn him.

“Something I’m certain neither family wishes for her to emulate. It would be a shame for them to blame the church if that came to fruition.” The quick, humble save fumbled from your lips as your eyes darted between the Father and the other Harbinger.

Golden eyes disappeared in amusement as the priest gave a soft chuckle.

“I suppose you are correct, dear Sister. I’ll speak to the Revered Mother about the matter.”

His tone was dismissive; you would receive nothing else from him and determined to escape higher political matters, you bowed and began to head out of the narthex. You caught whispers before Father Pantalone’s voice rang out again, stopping you in your tracks.

“Sister, you are on your way to breakfast, are you not?”

You turned and regarded both men again. Dottore’s obscured gaze was no longer on the ceiling but on you and you felt your skin crawl. Anyone in service to the Harbingers, to the Tsaritsa in any capacity, knew of Il Dottore, the Second Harbinger of Eleven, and his unusual stance on the world.

Completely unfaithful in the Seven, including the Archon he served, and yet he held a station only surpassed by Capitano. He was outranked by empathy, some said, for the Captain was often willing to lend his strength to all who asked, provided their goals aligned.

“I am, yes, Father.”

“Please take our guest to the kitchens and see he leaves through the back entrance when he’s finished. I would rather he not be seen coming and going from the front doors and not immediately combusting. I have a schedule to keep but even I am not unkind to blasphemers.”

In any other capacity, you would have found his remark humorous. Father Pantalone’s posture was rigid, his jaw tight, and although he smiled, nothing in his brow signaled he enjoyed nor believed the words that came out of his mouth.

And you had no choice but to agree, even if it meant interrupting the usually silent breakfast, for Father Pantalone had already walked away. Naturally. You asked something of him; it was only expected he would ask something of you in return.

To Dottore, you said: “If you would follow me, Lord Harbinger.”

You led the Second Harbinger through the side corridors and back outside, along the covered walkways around a courtyard. The sun had yet to rise, torches imbued with Pyro throwing shadows as you made your way to the kitchens. Dottore stopped for a moment, and when you no longer heard a second pair of footsteps, you paused and turned to find him regarding the snowy courtyard, the fountain frozen.

The firelight made his shadow look like a hulking bird.

“Is your student wrong, in your opinion, Sister?” he asked.

“I’m not quite sure I understand your question, my lord.”

You did but you weren’t going to outright answer him. Not when he was keeping you from the warm hall and your morning coffee.

“To consider an arranged marriage sanctioned and approved by the Tsaritsa to be an attempt to control fate. That by your student not having a say in the matter, having no control over her life, her own fate is undermined?”

It was too early for this, you thought bitterly. And Pantalone said too much in front of the wrong person. Not the first time your own history slipped through during conversations it shouldn’t have.

“That would depend on whether one believes it is the Archons or Celestia who has control over fate,” you said at last. “Archons interpret the Heavenly Principles but there is a divide on whether the Archons act on their own or Celestia can override their will and therefore they are nothing more than figureheads. Either way, free will is…difficult to define. Some find comfort in it; others prefer the idea that another power is in charge of everything.”

“Diplomatic, Sister, but not what I asked,” Dottore chuckled. “I suppose I should expect as much from someone in Pantalone’s realm but you strike me as someone who has defined free will for herself.”

You suppressed a shiver as you watched a black bird, some kind of corvid that lived around here, flew from a nearby tree and settled into the snow. It buried its head before it wiggled, covering itself as it played with the newly-fallen powder.

“One should have a say in the long-term decisions of their lives,” you replied. “Marriage is one of those decisions. Many know how to wield a hammer and nail two pieces of wood together. Some can build houses. Others simply rely on that skill to repair what needs to be fixed and leave it at that. Faith should be a compass, a guidebook; nothing more than a tool by which to live.”

The corvid made a sound as it wriggled and hopped about, soon joined by its companions. Here, the birds were well-fed and clever for it, often seen as blessings of the Tsaritsa for their playful and comforting nature.

Elsewhere in the nation, they were absolute menaces.

Your answer seemed to satisfy him, for Dottore’s chest rose and fell once, warm breath snaking from his nostrils as if he were a long-lost dragon.

He fell in step with you again and when you reached the kitchen, he left your side and settled in front of the fire almost immediately. Attentive eyes fell on you as you spoke to the cook about making sure the Harbinger left through the service entrance.

In silence, you brought a cup of coffee and a plate of food to Il Dottore. The only acknowledgement you received was a silent turn of the head along with a slight nod.

At least he had the decency to respect the atmosphere.

Normally, the smell of coffee and warm bread was enough to shake you from the cold. You would have spoken softly about what others were reflecting on that morning, sought guidance on which verses might provide insight.

Not today.

The coffee tasted burnt. The bread felt stale. The meat was cold.

And too many people were watching. As if they knew.

You left your hot drink unfinished and tucked the errant bread into your pocket. As you wished your fellow Canonesses a good morning and departed, you felt ice bloom over your shoulders, unfamiliar and attentive.

As you passed the courtyard, you paused only long enough to break up the bread and feed the eager birds. They fluttered and squawked, picking up the pieces eagerly.

This morning’s reflections would be tedious but worthwhile. Reminders of why you came to the arms of the Tsaritsa to begin with.

#dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore x female reader #il dottore x female reader #priest pantalone #tw religious themes #eventual smut #dddne #dead dove #corruption

123 notes · View notes

theroyalhouseofwindenburg · 4 months

Text

The Black Death: Part 4

A year has passed since David succumbed to the relentless grip of the plague. Windenburg now stands on the precipice of despair, desperately in need of assistance. More than half of its once-thriving population has perished, leaving behind haunting echoes of life. The streets are eerily silent, with the only signs of movement being the body collectors, the last living presence in a city now dominated by decay and suffering. Westsimster, once a bustling metropolis, now lies almost empty—a haunting testament to the devastating toll exacted by the merciless plague.

Within the walls of Windenburg Castle, a grim atmosphere hung heavy. King Wilhelm, seated in his office, brooded with frustration. The once-thriving farms that supplied the kingdom with grain and livestock now lay in ruin, consumed by the merciless flames of the plague. The farmers, along with their families, had succumbed to the same cruel fate. Realizing the gravity of the situation and driven by the need for a drastic solution, King Wilhelm summoned his trusted advisor, Sir Oliver Coles, to enforce his command.

In a sinister turn of desperation, King Wilhelm, confronted by the grim realities of the plague in Windenburg, resolves to hoard the meager medical supplies and resources within the castle walls. Disregarding the anguished pleas of his suffering subjects, he instructs Oliver to summon the guards and seize any remedies, tonics, and herbs meant for the common folk. Defying the Jacoban Church, Wilhelm orders the immediate closure of local apothecaries and medicinal dispensaries. A disbelieving Oliver looks to Wilhelm and exclaims, "Your Grace, you can't possibly be serious... stripping the people of their last resources will surely lead to their demise. Moreover, closing the apothecaries will anger the church; without their support, we may be in grave danger." Enraged, Wilhelm rises from his desk, slamming his fists down violently, demanding compliance, "The only thing the people in this slum of a country have brought me is agony and dread. Let the Watcher do his job and rule out the unworthy!" he shouted.

By seizing control of the limited supplies, Wilhelm selfishly secures his own survival, leaving the remainder of Windenburg to plunge into an abyss of despair. The duty of a king, sworn to protect and serve his people, morphs into a grotesque exhibition of selfishness. Consumed by paranoia, Wilhelm places his well-being above the lives of those he vowed to govern with compassion, tarnishing the very essence of his regal responsibilities.

Upon exiting the room, Oliver senses an impending danger and an unsettling fear that King Wilhelm is descending into madness. Driven by concern, he chooses to seek out the Queen in the east wing of the castle. In this secluded area, Queen Cordelia resides with her sons, Prince Wilhelm and Prince Alvin, as well as her step-daughter Augusta, their refuge from the growing chaos that has engulfed the kingdom.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the halls, prompting Cordelia and Lady Philippa, her newly appointed governess, to answer. To her surprise, it was Oliver, bearing urgent news. In a desperate plea, Oliver details the King's alarming intentions to Cordelia, imploring her to intervene and divert him from this perilous course of action. Cordelia, consumed by anger, reacts vehemently to her husband's callous plans. Unable to fathom such cruelty, she instructs Oliver to convey to the King that she and the children are departing for Bagley, seeking refuge in her brother King Henry's hunting lodge. Windenburg Castle, once a haven, has become a breeding ground for peril, and Cordelia is determined to shield her family from its encroaching darkness.

Cordelia, Augusta, and Lady Philippa ascended the stairs, seeking refuge in the upper chambers. There, Lady Philippa diligently packed their belongings, a task undertaken with urgency. Despite the impending wrath of her husband, Cordelia couldn't endure the relentless suffering any longer, determined to seek solace for herself and her children beyond the castle walls.

Within minutes, King Wilhelm arrived with his two guards, effectively blocking the stairway, a furious expression etched onto his face. "I'll have your head before I let you take my sons anywhere!" He shouted, his voice echoing through the stone corridors. Cordelia met her husband's gaze with a mix of defiance and rage. "Your kingship mirrors your parenting—absent, callous, and utterly devoid of any genuine care. Our marriage is but a charade, a reflection of your egotism and disregard for the family you've torn apart. Your rule brings nothing but suffering, and your skills as a king are as feeble as your ability to be a father. You've become the embodiment of a king without a kingdom, a ruler without a realm, and a husband without a heart." Cordelia's searing words threw Wilhelm over the top. In a fit of unbridled anger, he lunged at her, striking her hard in the face and knocking her to the floor. He then seized the pearl necklace around her neck, the one he had once made for her, and tightened his grip, choking her. "Your actions have just cost you your son!" Wilhelm bellowed before finally releasing his grip.

Augusta swiftly came to her stepmother's aid. "Guards! Collect Prince Alvin and take him to the west wing," Wilhelm commanded, his tone authoritative and cold. As he was about to exit the room, Augusta, unable to contain her disdain, muttered "Tyrant" under her breath. Wilhelm turned sharply towards her. "Augusta, much like your mother, your treasonous tongue might have consequences. It seems the apple hasn't fallen far from the tree," he declared, his voice laced with menace. Augusta, fueled by a mix of anger and despair, could no longer contain her emotions. In a fit of frustration, she confronted King Wilhelm,

"Your crown sits upon a heartless head! The plague has claimed more than our people; it's revealed the rot within your soul. A ruler who abandons his own kingdom to a fate worse than death. You're no king; you're a puppet in regal attire, dancing on the strings of your own incompetence," Augusta boldly declared. King Wilhelm, consumed by rage, violently seized Augusta and threw her against the hard stone wall, knocking down furniture in the process. Despite the physical assault, Augusta met his gaze defiantly. "You can hurt me all you want, but you will always be who you are. My mother's blood stains your hands, and no amount of power can wash away the darkness that shrouds your soul. You are not a king; you are a tyrant, a betrayer of the very realm you claim to rule."

Wilhelm yanked Augusta up from the ground, pressing her forcefully against the wall with an intensity of loathing in his eyes. "You are nothing, an incessant stain from the moment you entered this world. A mistake I regret not correcting sooner. I should have fed you to the wolves when your mother died. The only reason you survived is because of Cordelia's misguided pity."

He then turned to his guards, his voice echoing through the chamber, "Seize her!" he yelled, The guards promptly approached Augusta, binding her wrists as commanded. With a malicious tone, Wilhelm declared, "Let's see how grateful you feel after a few nights in the dungeon." Wilhelm then ordered his son, Prince Wilhelm, to follow him out as well. The young boy stood from his seat in a rage after witnessing the brutal argument. "I'm not going anywhere with you!" the boy shouted at his father.

"You're no father to us, just a king in title. Your crown is a mere disguise for the monster within. Mother deserves better, and so do we. You're not a protector; you're the source of our torment. the kingdom crumbles not from external enemies, but from the decay within your own heart," the boy boldly declared. "Your insolence knows no bounds, child. You speak of torment, yet fail to recognize the privilege and protection my rule affords. Your Mother was well aware of the implications of this marriage, and you, in your naivety, dare to question a king. The kingdom flourishes under my guidance, and your accusations are but the pitiful cries of ungrateful offspring." Wilhelm shouted

In that moment, Cordelia threw herself at her husband's feet. "Please, Wilhelm," she begged, "Don't take my children away from me; they're all I have." Wilhelm looked down at his groveling wife in disgust, pushing her away, In swift motion, Wilhelm advanced toward his son, seizing him tightly, and headed for the door amidst the boy's desperate screams and pleas to be released. As Wilhelm left the chamber, the guard inquired, "Your Grace, Should I leave the door open or board it up?" Walking away, Wilhelm coldly commanded, "board the doors up; let her starve." The young prince's terror-filled screams echoed through the corridor upon hearing his father's heartless words.

Beneath the castle, in the dimly lit corridors leading to the dungeon, Augusta was led to her cell by one of Wilhelm's guards. As he placed her on the bed, he removed the binding from her wrists and, to her surprise, closed the heavy door behind him. With a swift motion, he took off his helmet, revealing an expression marked by the shadows of loyalty and conflict. "What your father did to you was wrong," he declared bluntly, the weight of the truth evident in his words. After a moment's pause, he added solemnly, "I want to help you. There are others who share our concerns about the king's reign." Augusta, astonished by this unexpected ally, found herself cautiously hopeful for the first time in the midst of the kingdom's turmoil.

In the dimly lit confines of the dungeon, Augusta and the guard had a conversation that stretched on for what felt like an eternity. They delved into the depths of the suffering inflicted by Wilhelm's almost 30 year reign over Windenburg. They crafted a plan to liberate Windenburg from his oppressive rule. The guard, his voice laced with determination, spoke earnestly to Augusta, "We cannot let the tyranny endure any longer. Wilhelm's reign has left a trail of suffering, and it's time to bring an end to it. I will gather a group of like-minded guards who share our concerns. Together, we'll expose his cruelty, collect evidence, and seek support from disillusioned nobles and the Jacoban Church."

As they strategized, Augusta felt a glimmer of hope in the face of the kingdom's despair. The guard continued, "Our coordinated effort will reveal Wilhelm's misdeeds, hopefully sparking a revolt within the castle. The people deserve better, and we shall strive to restore Windenburg to its former glory." With a resolute promise, he turned to Augusta, "I will return for you, and together, we will ensure that Wilhelm's days of tyranny are numbered." The dungeon, once a symbol of despair, became the birthplace of a rebellion.

45 notes · View notes