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#he lost his crown after being banished and he replaced it with a flower
galarfiend · 2 years
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bede ancestor
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Here’s Bede’s ancestor, Prince Vanda! He’s the prince of the faerie kingdom in Ballonlea. He loves to battle, both with swords and with his partner pokemon Rapidash. He stole and handed over the royal family’s sword to Zacian, which causes a bit of an argument with his grandmother Queen Aconita.
(i.e., he gets banished)
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addaellisplaysgames · 3 years
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((Just something inspired by the new Mysteries of the Lost Gold Trailer. Probably not canon-compliant and at least a little OOC. Luke x MC/ Raven x Rosa.))
WC: 1854
His Rosa was scrutinizing something from a market stall when he found her. Luke watched fondly for a while before softly tapping her and taking her hand, careful now to startle her. She rewarded him with a relaxed smile.
“Look, it’s seaweed!” She showed him the hair clip. At first he thought it was a regular poppy flower, carved out of wire and cloth. But as his Rosa had observed, the texture of the flower, the thin carved veins on the surface, and the way it was folded resembled red seaweed with small silk beads for stamens.
“I didn’t even know red seaweed looked so different,” she mused. “It must have taken a lot of effort to carve the flower like that.” She set the hair clip down and turns to him. “Did Adjudicator get in contact with the dealer?”
“Yeah,” Luke replied. “We’ll talk about the details later.” He pinned the hair clip on her, replacing the usual clip. “It’s cute. You should get it.”
“You always say that,” she said, but her cheeks blushed happily from his compliment.
“Well, you’re always cute.”
“You silly….”
“Excuse me storekeep, how much for the hair clip?”
———
Rifle. Check. Scope. Check. Ghille. Check. Wind. Check. Target…in sights.
Luke carefully tracked the man between his crosshairs as they walked to the meeting point. He looked up and could see Libra and Rosa standing a few feet away, calmly keeping the target in position. He hated that she was so close yet so far away, and he hated that she was in danger again. But he was proud of how calm and brave she was even facing off a notorious criminal who called himself the “God of Death.”
Luke returned his eye to the scope. In the National Security Bureau, snipers were sometimes called gods of death themselves, for being able to rain silent death from afar. He preferred his Sherlock Holmes moniker, but if being a God of Death was what it took to take down this criminal, then that’s what he would have to be.
Luke took a deep breath…And fired.
Luke’s heart jolted when the rifle went off. It wasn’t the recoil or even the dulled bang of the gun. It wasn’t even the prospect of killing another human, even if the shot had been lethal. But just as he’d fired, he could have sworn he’d seen a flash of familiar red through the crosshairs.
———
Artem Wing was having a very surreal day. Raven and Rosa flirting over a hair clip was nothing unusual, and neither was arguing with King or even Adjudicator agreeing to this whole ridiculous plan with a creepy smile. But the sunny beaches and clear waters seemed too idyllic to be hiding a gang of murderers. For the legend of gold to be poison…this whole paradisal island was built on poison and blood.
Still, setting the target up for a sniper’s bullet—even if it was simply a tranquilizing bullet—sounded awfully like an assassination to him. Artem was an attorney after all, a pillar of justice and legal operation. Due process wasn’t just a motto, it was a creed he solemnly swore by. But the dealer this time was a confirmed killer, and had already escaped justice multiple times. Taking him down by normal means was simply out of the option. And if Raven was as good as he was confident, if they got the right suspect immediately…then this could be over in one shot.
The meeting and conversation itself seemed to go smoothly. Too smoothly. It was like he was in a dream world, and he didn’t even have to think to say the right words to placate the dealer. As the interaction was wrapping up, his partner suddenly whispered to him. They had the wrong guy. This had been a set up—They had to let Raven know the right target right away before a potential innocent was hurt in the crossfire—
But when that one shot happened. Artem watched in slow motion as the supposed dealer was flung back, clutching his shoulder and screaming in shock. His partner collapsed on the ground. Her eyes squeezed shut. There was blood in her hair.
Next to her laid the tattered remains of the poppy hair clip. The tiny beads scattered like dark red grains of pepper sunk into the pristine sand. The carefully carved red seaweed folds were torn to mangled shreds of cloth, like another life sacrificed before the golden alter of the God of Death.
———
According to the plan, Artem would be doing most of the talking. She glanced around, noting the dealer’s bodyguards around the space.
The dealer seemed nervous, but that wasn’t itself unusual. They were attorneys after all, and anyone would be hesitant to talk to lawyers, regardless of how many times they had gotten away. But she studied how his too-casual crossed arms contradicted the fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves—which were a tad too long for a dealer that could more than afford to have every suit hand-tailored. Yet his head seemed unusually still, as though the hat on it was a crown. Hm…
She kept one ear on the conversation as she studied the bodyguards again surreptitiously. The dealer hesitated. And then she saw one bodyguard shift—his face barely moved, but his neck moved as though he were speaking. He stopped, and the dealer spoke again.
She suddenly remembered how the ex-con had said the dealer was particularly paranoid, and how he continued to avoid capture and death. Calling himself “God of Death”, he seduced his victims with golden poison, and commanded loyalty through fear and an antidote just out of reach. All who voiced complaint would mysteriously vanish….
The conversation was coming to a close. The dealer signaled for his bodyguards to leave, and she knew the way were running out of time. The suspicious bodyguard was turning around to leave, and she noticed he was slightly taller than the dealer. And his shoes—brand new boots, without a scratch.
“This is the wrong man,” she said quietly to Artem. “The real culprit—“
She held her hand up to reveal the decoy, and suspicion and alarm flashed through the fake dealer’s eyes. He dealer grabbed her, pulling her in front of him and shouting for Artem not to move, else he’d snap the pretty girl’s neck. But before anyone could do anything, an invisible force whistled past her head, throwing the fake dealer back. He howled, but all she felt was ringing in her ears and a forceful tug, like someone yanking her braids. The world around her turned black for a moment, and she found herself on the ground, covered in sand.
“The bodyguard!” She called out, pointing. She struggled to move but her legs felt like jelly and her head was spinning like she was thrown into a centrifuge. She tried calling out again, because Artem wasn’t looking—he was kneeling by her side, eyes blown wide with concern and fear. “The bodyguard is the real dealer! He’s getting away!”
The suspicious bodyguard was running without a backwards glance for his decoy, and the groups as quickly collapsing around him. She fought through the throbbing in her head to keep an eye on him. Marius was nearby, she knew, ready to be backup. Her fingers trembled on the phone. “King! The real dealer is reaching the road now, the one on the motorcycle—don’t let him get away!”
———
It was over. Marius had pulled some crazy motor-cross stunts and managed to take down the suspicious bodyguard. The police had arrived to take all involved into custody, and the decoy had joined them once the tranquilizer wore off. As obnoxious as the little brat was, Luke had to give Marius credit for understanding what happened and taking down the target before they could get away.
The real hero though, was perched on the couch talking to him. He handed her a cup of tea, and took the ice pack from her ankle. “Wasn’t this supposed to be for your head? Are you feeling that much better already?” He asked lightly.
Rosa simply nodded, sipping lightly on the tea. Luke had made sure it was cool just enough so she wouldn’t be dangerous even if she did spill it. “The ringing stopped a while ago. I think I twisted my ankle trying to run in the sand though.” She sat up straight. “Are you okay?”
Luke sighed self-deprecatingly. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You’re the one that nearly got shot.”
She set the tea aside, cupping his cheeks to look her in the eye. “Dr. Ritcher said there doesn’t seem to be any damage, psychological or physical. I guess I was too focused on the case to realize I was nearly shot. You and Artem were the ones that had to watch.”
He nuzzled into her soft touch. “My heart nearly stopped,” he confessed. “He moved so suddenly. I thought I’d accommodated for that, but then I saw you fall….”
“But it was a tranquilizing dart, not a real bullet.”
“But he’s a much bigger person!” Luke exclaimed. “That dose might have been lethal for you. And it wasn’t supposed to be delivered to your head! And then…there was blood in your hair…I’m so sorry.”
His Watson—his brave and clever Watson—was undeterred. She patted him gently as she explained again. “It was just the decoy yanking my hair so suddenly and the sound of the dart so close that startled me. And it was his blood. I’m fine.” She smiled brightly, banishing the dark clouds that had been swirling around his heart with radiant confidence. “I never doubted you’d hit your target precisely. You’re my beloved Sherlock, right?”
He hugged her close, hoping he could shelter her from everything, even himself. “I’m yours.”
———
It had been a few days since they returned to Stellis. The bell of his antique store announced a visitor, and Peanut’s excited chirp announced his girlfriend. “In all the commotion after the case I forgot t give this to you,” she said, approaching the desk. She paused to hold out a finger to Peanut, who landed with a happy trill. “I thought your old keychain could use a well deserved break.”
Luke took the tissue-paper wrapped gift. It was a keychain of a distinctive detective’s hat and pipe, carved out of a seashell and coated in resin. “This was what you had gotten? I thought…I thought you’d gotten yourself a present.”
“A present for you is a present for me, silly,” she replied, entertaining Peanut with a toy. “Do you dislike it?”
“No, it’s amazing,” he said, immediately attaching the keychain to his camera. “Actually, I have a surprise for you too,” Luke said. He set a hair clip in front of her: gentle red cloth and wire, etched to look like red seaweed, but folded like a flower.
“The hair clip! You remade it?”
“Except this time as a rose,” he said shyly.
She pinned it to her hair immediately, twirling to show it off. “How is it?”
“Cute,” he said, wrapping his arms around her gently. “You’re always cute.”
“I think I like this one better,” she murmured against his chest. “You made it for me after all.”
“I do too. Truly, a rose represents you best.”
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lorei-writes · 3 years
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Fairy Tales for Bedtime
The King of Liars
Shingen x MC Fantasy AU (Fairy Tale-ish) Choose Your Own Ending*
Ahh, it’s finally done! I don’t even know what to say, other than I’m so happy. I can barely see now, because I wanted to edit it instantly after I finished writing it and then post it. Allow me to invite you into a fantasy setting of yet another type. You won’t regret it.
*- Fluff or Angst
Word Estimate: 4.5k
Content Warnings: kidnapping, food (main); none (Dream ending); death (Nightmare Ending)
Sweet wind played with her hair, clementine mist extending its reach over to the terrace, dispersing through air like ink droplets submerged in water. Her hands resting atop the railing, her feet rose above the ground – she could have sworn Shingen had to hold back a gasp, her upper body tilting forward as if she was about to fall. She stopped, however, only gazing into the depths below them, starts seemingly calling out to her. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered, the gentle hum of the sky cushioning her voice. “Would you want to see them from up close?” Soles of her shoes clacked against the tiles, her skirt swirling as she turned to face him. “Could you do that?” One foot on the railing, Shingen pushed himself up. Without losing his balance, he leaned forward and offered her his hand, the words she wanted to hear leaving his lips. “I don’t know.” Yes, of course.
Long, long ago, when seas of grass heaved undisturbed by human influence, it was still believed that summer solstice held a special kind of power. It was celebrated as such, flames higher than trees attempting to touch the night sky while laughter flew abundantly over rivers, flower crowns being carried downstream. As day touched the night, humans seemed to awaken, pushing past the borders of the unsafe darkness, their voices daring to pierce through the harmonious buzzing of the forests. For an untrained ear, it would seem silence didn’t exist then, that it was banished outside the borders of the human realm and replaced by joy… Yet it lurked somewhere else, somewhere where the slightest mistake could be paid with the greatest of prices.
She stared into the well, silver moonlight being reflected at her from below. She breathed in deeply. Air seemed to electrify, prompted by her chants. “Mirror, mirror from below, Tell me tales I shouldn’t know, Show me days that are to come, Mirror, mirror, hear my call.” The water bubbled, a whirlwind appearing in the very centre of it, colours beginning to separate on its surface. She leaned it closer, her eyes shining with curiosity, images of the future forming to answer her pleas. Her lungs begged for the air, not even a breath being invited into them as she strived to stay perfectly still. Just a little longer, just until she saw it, and then she’d be able to let it go, to let time flow the way it’s supposed to…
A leaf flew past her head, swirling in the air before being sucked into the well, her eyelids twitching as she failed to stop them from moving. Her eyes opened wider as terror overtook her. She sprung back, her clothing already twisting, pulling her towards the water. She tore it – to no avail, her entire body being swallowed with force she couldn’t oppose. In her descent, she turned around, lush greenery emerging from the silver water, sliding up the walls of the well as if to cushion her fall. A scream died in her throat, consumed by everlasting silence that seemed to have taken a permanent residence within her.
The world around her morphed, initially fading into darkness and then erupting into a sea of vivid streaks. Trees hung suspended in the air, endless ocean of azure spreading far below her, carnivorous clouds rushing underneath the surface of the water. Sun chasing them around, they took shelter in reefs of long branches extending from above, phasing through the jewels growing in place of leaves. The reality slowly making itself known to her, she began to panic, her hands combing through the air in a desperate attempt to find anything to grasp onto. Her heart stopped – the sky exploded in pink mist, its edges spilling in various ripples around her.
“A human? Poor soul,” a voice vibrated through her.
Initially stunned, few things escaped her attention, her body only later catching onto the change in its position. Buzzing in her ears drowning out all sounds, she hid her face behind her arms, her eyes suddenly beginning to burn. She coughed – and just as it started, it was over, her head spinning as she snapped it to look up. She shouted, her body jolting back, strong hands keeping her in an embrace. “You don’t want to fall? Keep on doing that,” the person laughed, huge irises in shade of lime green piercing though her. Instect-like wings fluttered behind their back, colours of the sunrise being seemingly enchanted in the thin membrane spreading between each resemblant of a bone part. “Azla!” another voice called. “King said not to bring any new spoils back. Just let her fall.” “The clouds aren’t hungry,” they whined. “What a pleasant time, really.” “I’ll gladly listen to your problems later, please, pour your heart out.” Her arms trembled, her gaze travelling from her captor to the man, confusion flooding her senses. A pointy nose almost brushed against her cheek, ultramarine hair falling onto her face. “You’re kinda cute. You make me want to eat you.” “Please, do,” the person holding her replied. “Now.” She winced, yet no harm came her way, wind beginning to hum in her ears anew.
The travel was fast, fast enough to be both deafening and blinding, pushing her further into a state of deep confusion. Lost and certain only of the fact that the rules had been broken, she did not even attempt to look around, the watercolour-like mists with acidic smell being sufficiently dooming for her mind. The world could have very well frozen, time nearly stopping as she struggled to stay in touch with reality, her heart racing – and only beginning to pick up its pace after they landed. An ivory palace emerged from a forest of vermilion roots, wide trunk extending deep into the navy sky below them, shining starts losing themselves in orange reefs of branches during their never-ending chase. Undisturbed by any predatory moons, they adapted different tactics, some staying in constellations while others opted for a solitary hunt, burning bright as to provide the light for the palace, membranous windows allowing for it to sneak inside. Her captors setting her down, she trembled, soles of her shoes clacking against the glass ground. She focused, willing her mind to take a step forward – yet she stayed still, her body refusing to obey any of her commands. A hand fell onto her shoulder. “Backwards, take your time,” Azla demanded. “I...I can’t,” she forced out, a knot tying itself inside of her throat. The fairy groaned in reply, pinching the bridge of their nose as their gaze focused on the ground. “Feet, pretty please, carry the guest to our King, thank you, have a nice time and enjoy your day.”
Charmed, she rushed forward, barely managing to hold her back upright, each step bringing her closer to collapse. Exempt from her will, her legs acted on their own, speeding past the castle guards and then through the halls, azure carpets eventually disappearing as ornaments became sparser, wood replacing the ivory. Golden window frames turning to metal, gusts of wind snuck inside, each floor being less resemblant of a rich palace than the previous one – until she finally reached the very top of the estate, the last corridor leading directly to what seemed to be a wall taken out of a completely different building. Rather frugal and solid, balks rested firmly atop each other, a door standing in her way. Fearing her feet may not stop, she leaned forward to knock and press the handle, as not to let herself get hurt.
Her body passed the doorstep, her legs instantly collapsing under her weight, no longer supported by magic. Her lungs burning after the run, she breathed in deeply, too tired to notice the pair of grey eyes staring at her from over the table. “What do we have here?” the human-looking person hummed, causing her to snap her head up. Scared, she tried to get out, the door closing behind her back. “An angel? Please, allow me to soothe your worry, you are completely safe now.” “Who are you?” “I am the one in control of the entire realm, the king… Although just for you, I’d suggest using ‘Shingen’ instead,” he explained, offering her a hand. She accepted it, still too shaken to question an existence of another human in the land of the fairies, much less his position or role – and only once she was standing by herself again, did she notice the hem of his sleeve rolling up, burnt sienna marks creeping up the man’s forearm, something deep within his skin shining like copper.
***
The days passed, her existence being contained to the borders of the king’s quarters. Initially assuming she’d meet her end there shortly, she opted to stay by herself, the solitude of the room assigned to her providing her with an odd sense of comfort. Much to her surprise, however, nobody came, only the low humming daring to sneak inside during each meal time, the king himself setting a tray in front of her door. At first, she guessed it would be poisoned… Yet there was little difference in dying from starvation or as a result of a scheme, if anything the latter being preferable in its length. Desperate, she gathered her courage to taste the food.
It was safe, although perhaps a bit too savoury for her liking, some vegetables being additionally somewhat overcooked. She accepted it regardless, her stomach ceasing to growl for the first time in days – and her mouth watered as she reached for the cake, the pastry being perfect in its taste. Encouraged, she gathered the dishes and set them outside, still too cautious to let herself be lured out for longer.
The pattern repeated for few weeks, her senses slowly beginning to adapt to the unusual movement of the sun and the eternal day. Feeling she might be prepared to learn of what was to happen to her, she got up from her bed and walked to the door, ready to open it… A knock came from the other side. “Can we talk?” Shingen asked. “Y-Yeah,” she stuttered.
Following her host, she walked down the corridor, taking careful note of the paintings hanging over the walls, the frames being seemingly out of place. Having seated himself in one of the armchairs, Shingen gestured at her to rest too. He rolled up his sleeves, symmetrical markings spreading up his skin – her eyes widened. “I thought you were a human…” she spoke absent-mindedly. “Have I ever said that? Few humans have managed to live here before, yet I am not one of them.”A faint smile appeared over his face, as if he tried to comfort her. “I… I see. What will happen to me?” “Plenty and precisely nothing.” “I think I don’t understand.” “The well will open in a year and one day, counting from the day of your arrival. I will arrange new quarters for you.” “That’s… That’s not necessary!” she exclaimed, rising her hands in a protective gesture. “I am fine living here.” “Oh, I insist. This year will most likely be a long one for you,” he hummed, something shining deep within his eyes. She did not look close then, though, completely convinced that opposing his command would cost her dearly. As such, she retreated into her room once more.
However, no change happened, Shingen only inviting her to explore his quarters, his private room excluded. She asked for explanation, yet got no reply, her reach slowly expanding until she had seen all parts of the castle at least once. During one such trip, when she ventured out onto the terrace to watch the sentient stars, a fairy landed by her side. “Boo!” Azla exclaimed, his wings fluttering happily as she jumped. “Azla!” Botchka scolded him, soon finding himself by their side. He turned towards her. “My lady, please punish this...Person of the greatest intellect,” he ground through his teeth, causing her to laugh. “Apologies accepted. Or should I say, ‘perish’? I have noticed some of you seem to speak in opposites… But it is different with the king. I don’t think I have it quite figured out…” she trailed off, hoping they’d provide her with enough information to resolve her confusion. “Fairies must speak only truth and king is the only one able to make it sound like an utter and complete lie,” Botchka answered without a hint of hesitation, reaching to entwine his fingers with Azla’s. “For example: I absolutely hate this great, scholarly personality.” “I won’t make a cat poop in your shoes for that,” they muttered, unmoved by the confession.
The woman nodded in reply. “So it’s that simple? I wonder then…”
***
Her suspicions having been confirmed, she chose to learn more, asking the king whether he’d mind if she joined him during the meals. He disagreed, which she assumed was a sign she should try regardless, preparing the table for the both of them. She glanced curiously at him. No reaction. As such, she brought out the stew and the dessert, soon reaching for the bowls to fill them – and yet, one disappeared straight out of her hand, Shingen suddenly materialising in his spot and cutting himself a hefty slice of cake. Content, he sat down, already digging into the crust as she laughed: “This isn’t really a balanced diet.” “I presume you’re right, my angel. After all, I consume human food for the nutritional value alone… Yet I can’t seem to stop myself.” Not quite, my angel. I don’t consume human food for nutritional reasons… Although I could have spared that piece of cake, she tried to understand. “Fairies eat different things? Then why bother with human stuff?” “I’d rather save that story for another time,” Shingen stated, smiling a polite smile. I’d prefer not to share the reason as to why. The woman nodded in reply, her brows knitting together. Her face relaxing a moment later, she rose her gaze and looked at him, the corners of her mouth curling up. At least she was beginning to adapt.
It seemed each day their talks lasted longer, soon exceeding past the meals, the empty plates listening in to the joyous laughter and words of explanation, sometimes hours past their serving time, the king only taking note of them once the next meal came. The dining table soon losing its role of being the bridge between them, it was released from its duty, the pair moving to the living room – and when that ceased to suffice too, they opted to stroll around the castle, her eyes gleaming with curiosity as he revealed the secrets of the fairy realm to her.
Sweet wind played with her hair, clementine mist extending its reach over to the terrace, dispersing through air like ink droplets submerged in water. Her hands resting atop the railing, her feet rose above the ground – she could have sworn Shingen had to hold back a gasp, her upper body tilting forward as if she was about to fall. She stopped, however, only gazing into the depths below them, starts seemingly calling out to her. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered, the gentle hum of the sky cushioning her voice. “Would you want to see them from up close?” Soles of her shoes clacked against the tiles, her skirt swirling as she turned to face him. “Could you do that?” One foot on the railing, Shingen pushed himself up. Without losing his balance, he leaned forward and offered her his hand, the words she wanted to hear leaving his lips. “I don’t know.” Yes, of course. She accepted the invitation, soft breeze nuzzling against her ankles as sudden warmth spread through her body, causing her to feel lighter. His fingers closed around hers, her eyes meeting his – and she followed his gaze, few shining steps appearing in front of her. Mesmerised, she climbed them, soon standing by Shingen’s side, holding onto his arm as not to fall.
Words were unreliable, all things he could have told her being too heinous as lies, the sweetest thought having to turn into poison if it were to leave his mouth. As such, he did not dare speak, instead guiding her with his eyes, her breathing hitching at every stolen glance. Carefully, Shingen took a step forward, the initial fall stopping as platform emerged below his feet. Shingen looked up, his lips parting, but he hesitated to talk. “Yes, please,” she whispered in reply, his hands finding themselves onto her waist as he lifted her. Perhaps it was just a habit, perhaps she forgot herself, her arms crossing behind his neck – and she could not avert her gaze, her body pressed to his, her tiptoes hoovering just above the ground. Her blood started to rush, familiar tenderness sneaking into the grey irises for a split second – yet it was over so very soon, black lashes falling to hide it away as Shingen set her down. With a gesture of a hand, he urged her to go forward, the next platform being only a step away. Silently, she did as instructed, entwining her fingers with his once more. Slowly, they descended to the very border of the night sky.
She saw the light – only a moment more, Shingen setting the last platform in place. The woman swallowed thickly, releasing a deep breath out of her lungs a second later, unwilling to let her fears hold her back.  His hand resting atop her arm, she looked from Shingen to the very sky below them, air being ocean-like in its structure, licking the edges of their step – only to evaporate in pleasant breezes, carrying up smells of fruit, flowers and summer days. Notified of their presence, a myriad of stars swam their way, crowding at the edges of their shelter, sparkly tails following them through the depths. The woman crouched town – and much to her surprise, the king knelt by her side, dipping his hands into the fabric of the sky. Seemingly playful, celestial bodies swarmed to them, as if begging to be invited into his palm, few that got inside buzzing against his skin excitedly. He trapped them inside with his other hand.
The king straightened his back, the droplets at his fingers bursting into the scent of sandal tree. “I… I wouldn’t dare to ask you to hold your hands out,” he let out. Blush spreading over her cheeks, she did as he asked – and he opened his fingers, the smallest universe she had ever seen falling into her grasp. She gasped, her eyes shining brightly. She looked up at him. “On any other day, I’d like to have it back… But since tomorrow is the last day of your stay here, I suppose I’d like for it to be the one thing to remind you of the fairy realm.” Her eyes crinkled. “Liar. I’d rather take something else,” she chuckled, leaning forward… He touched his finger to her lips, an odd sense of hurt dimming his eyes. “No,” he grunted, the markings on his forearms lighting up, his face growing paler. The sky crept onto the platform.  Shingen rose to his feet fast, pulling her up by her hand. “We could stay a little longer, on some other day. On any other day.” We must go. She did not understand the rest.
They ran up the platforms, each step being shakier than the previous one – until they reached the terrace, Shingen collapsing to his knees, his back pressing against the railing as he clutched onto his chest. She dropped next to him, pressing onto his shoulders to get a better look at his face, liquid copper flowing below the skin of his hands. “Shingen?” “I’m fine.” It hurts. “How bad?” “Not at all.” It can’t be described. “What should I do?” “Stay.” Leave me to myself. “I can’t. I will take you to your room, okay?” “No.” Yes.
Her shoulders supporting his weight, they hurried back inside, the corridors seemingly shortening themselves as to let them reach his quarters sooner. She pushed the door to his personal room open, helping him to sit on the bed. “Any medicine?” “Left drawer.” “Right!” she thought aloud, already rushing to open it and search through its contents. She almost froze, a solitary bottle of human medicine staring at her – yet she did not let herself waste any time, instantly turning around with it in her hand. She unscrewed the lid, pouring the liquid into it and soon pressing it against his lips. Shingen drunk hurriedly.
The king fell onto his back, copper shining withing the markings growing calmer to eventually completely subside and resume peaceful slumber. “Why do you have human medicine?” she asked. “Why, indeed…” Shingen panted, his face relaxing. “I want to know.” “I will tell you on the last day of your stay.” I won’t ever be able to tell you. The woman frowned, her feet carrying her towards the corridor. “Well then,” she huffed. “I will make you.” The door closed behind her back.
Her night wasn’t a peaceful one, no dreams daring to come her way as she tossed from side to side. Uncertain whether she felt more concern or anger, she got up, the clock having struck a quarter past midnight. She shook her head, letting the thought of rest go freely. Hoping to at least calm her mind, she got up, her feet carrying her to the very terrace they… What exactly had they done the prior night? Explored? Spoke? She laughed to herself – how truly odd was this world, submerged in deep navy yet also bright, sunken in light. She could not even classify it in any clear category, her mind failing her at understanding the nature and what happened to her alike. Wings fluttered behind her. She turned around.
Azla and Botchka landed, gazing at each other in solemn silence. Puzzled, she irked a quizzical brow at them. “Is something a matter?” she asked. “No.” Yes, Botchka replied. “We certainly did not want to talk.” “It’s only that we felt obliged to,” Azla gulped. The woman leaned against railing, her fingers growing white as she clutched on it. “Well, I’m all ears.” The fairies glanced at each other once more. “Do not listen to us at all.” Listen to all we say very carefully. “We can repeat ourselves.” We won’t repeat it. “The well opens precisely one day after the solstice,” Azla stated, turning their attention towards their partner. “The well opens precisely one day before the solstice.” The woman frowned, her eyes growing wider in fear. “It opens today.” “It hasn’t already.” It already has. She gritted her teeth, her heart beginning to beat faster. “Thanks, I think I must talk with somebody now,” she blurted out, breaking into a run.
She understood, fairies lie – yet she also knew Shingen was very well capable of suggesting where the deception began. Fearing he may send her away without giving her the chance to talk one last time, she knocked onto his door, opening it before he could react. Her heart sunk – he was there, lying in bed and basked in the light that somehow felt dark, his skin pale as his face twisted in pain, his hands grasping onto the sheets. She ran up to the drawer, her fingers curling around the familiar medicine bottle.
Empty.
Dream:
Content Warnings: none
Slowly, she sat down by his side, her fingers pushing damp from sweat hair out of his face. “You’re burning up,” she noted bitterly, her lips brushing against his forehead. “You have been unwell all this time. And you’ve never told anybody, have you?” “It’s only solstice,” he rasped. “Huh?” “It’s only solstice. It makes our worlds touch… And then… Humans were not meant to live in this realm –” A cough tore through his chest. “But you’re not a human,” she noted, letting her fingers stroke his cheek. She shook her head. “And all you say are lies. How am I to trust any of that?” “Not fully, not yet… The solstice… The solstice allows for truths to be said without a punishment.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, she nodded. She reached to hold his hand in hers. “I want to trust you,” she whispered. “So I will… And if this world is hurting you… Come. Come with me.” “I can’t.” “Why?” “If I’m not here… If something goes wrong… The well may close before you pass. I don’t know what will happen to you then.” To his surprise, she stayed calm, emotion draining away from her voice. “Then what should I do to get back?” “Stay still… And recite your spell, starting from the last verse…”
Silence fell thick between them, the woman eventually moving to stand up. “Thank you. Thank you for everything,” she uttered, seemingly accepting his wish. Slowly, she stepped into the centre of the room, her eyes fixated onto the last drop of medicine in the bottle. Her chest rose as she breathed in deeply, her eyes electrifying. “Mirror, mirror, hear my call, Show me days that are to come, Tell me tales I shouldn’t know, Mirror, mirror – ” Strong winds broke out, drowning out her words, her clothing beginning to twist as an overwhelming force began to swallow her. The king smiled – in his defeat that happened to be a lesser victory…
Shingen blinked fast, the pain in his chest lessening as his hands grew transparent. Her voice vibrated through his mind, sending chills down his spine. “ – save my love,” she spoke, the incantation being complete.
***
Buzzing in his head grew stronger, each breath filling his lungs with an unfamiliar substance – something he both craved and couldn’t identify. Shingen opened his eyes slowly, black sky, so unlike anything he had ever seen before, spreading above his head. He blinked fast, the events of the night reawakening themselves in his mind – he shot up, frantically looking from side to side until his gaze fell over her body. Fearing the worst, he rushed to her, his knees failing him.
Gently, he turned her onto her back, cradling her head as not to cause any harm – and he leaned down, hoping that she was still alive. Her breath tickling his cheek, he sunk back down, waves of relief flooding him on the inside. “The stars…” she mumbled, seemingly awoken from her slumber. “Yes, my angel? What about the stars?” “I could never tire of watching them,” she giggled weakly, tiredness sounding off in her voice. “And yet they can’t measure up to even a fraction of your beauty.” “Cruel, aren’t you?” Shingen propped himself on his elbow and gazed down at her, the faint gleam in his eyes proving her wrong. “It is the truth.” Her hand cupped his cheek, the fever she felt seemingly only a moment ago having disappeared completely. “Then… Would you mind giving me the one thing I wanted then?” she asked, although the answer was already known, they lips being mere inches apart. She gasped as they collided, her wish coming true– and she couldn’t have helped thinking it was dearer than the universe he had granted her then.
Nightmare:
Content Warnings: implied impending major character death.
Slowly, she sat down by his side. “You’re ill and you haven’t told anybody, have you?” she spoke in an empty voice, her hands clutching onto the empty bottle. “It will pass,” he rasped. It won’t, she understood. “If… If it’s terminal… Can I help you?” she uttered, looking away as not to let him see her despair. A shadow of surprise swept over his face – and then he realised, she did not know he could tell truth for once, during that one special day a year. “No.” Yes. “I wish I would never hear those words… Could you erase them with a song?” “A song?” she hummed. “Any song?” “From the human realm… I was always curious… What do you sing to get into my domain?”
She laughed bitterly, her head shaking as she swept her hair forward. “Mirror, mirror from below, Tell me tales I shouldn’t know, Show me days that are to come, Mirror, mirror, hear my call,” she started, her voice breaking a few times. A moment of pause. “It… It does go on like so,” she sobbed – and it shattered his heart, as he knew she was convinced it could be the end. “Mirror, mirror, hear my call, show me days that are to come, tell me tales I shouldn’t know, mirror mirror from below – ”
Silence consumed her voice. She grasped onto her throat, unaware of what she had done – and then she looked at him, her lips parting to say “no” as his turned into an apologetic smile. “I lied to you one last time,” the king admitted. The universe around her twisted, collapsed onto itself… She was gone.
Tag list: @datenoriko, @nad-zeta, @tsubaki3192, @missjudge-me, @ikemencrossedmyth, @nuttytani, @thesirenwashere, @milas-imaginarium, @kisara-16, @yukas-clover, @alerialumina , @cheese-ception , @iamryxx, @cottonfluffballofdoom, @ozziegrl71, @silhouette-of-a-dream If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, if you have some preferences (for example: you’d rather not be tagged under some series, etc.), please, tell me.  If you don’t want to be tagged anymore - please, do not feel bad about it, just say so :)
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mayorsquid · 6 years
Text
Listen to Me (Obi-Wan/reader)
This is a Royalty AU!
Reader and Anakin are Prince!Obi’s guards. I’m not sure how the politics in the prequels fit into this so let’s call this the ‘obi is royalty just cuz au’
Note: a few mentions of blood, mild violence, and one curse.
Words:1,441
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You had been guarding the crown Prince of Coruscant for the past three years. He was a few years older than yourself, and this age difference caused the Prince to resent you slightly. Your partner, Anakin, often teased the Prince, trying to get a reaction out of him. Anakin knew he wouldn't face any consequences, because he was rather close with the Prince, and the other Jedi refused to take the job so there was no one else to replace him. You on the other hand, tried to stay focused on your work. You were hired to protect the Prince, and you tried your best, but he didn't make things easy.
"Prince Obi-Wan, please wait until after I've confirmed that the room is safe."
Obi-Wan ignored you and brushed past Anakin to sit on the side of his bed. "Oh please, I've been gone twenty minutes. Who could possibly have infiltrated my chambers in that time?" he scoffed.
Anakin finished his sweep of the room and gave you the okay.
You looked at Obi-Wan, struggling to keep the anger off your face. "Your Majesty, with all due respect: this is my line of expertise. It would be in your best interest to listen to me," you laid a hand on the hilt of your lightsaber, and fixed the prince with one last cool look before turning to Anakin. "Stay here with the prince, I have to speak with Master Yoda and the King." You reached out and gripped the younger Jedi's shoulder, "And this time don't leave him alone. We can't have a repeat of last week."
Anakin flushed, "I took my eyes off him for one second, y/n! What, do you expect me to hold his hand while he shits?"
Obi-Wan looked on with a smug smile, "I think I'd fancy a walk around the garden." You turned from Anakin and stopped Obi-Wan at the door.
"Please my Prince," you said quietly, "The King has assigned Anakin and I to you for a reason," Obi-Wan looked into your eyes, transfixed. "I can't have your blood on my hands too."
The Prince seemed to soften at your words, and he grasped your hand for a moment before releasing it. The touch was so fleeting you thought you'd imagined it.
"I'll try to stay out of trouble, but only for you, y/n," he said seriously.
Anakin pretended to swoon, and led your group into the corridor. "Oh Obi-Wan! You charmer!" he crooned, folding his hands under his chin and batting his eyelashes at his charge. Obi-Wan pushed him roughly, but laughed with the younger man.
"Alright, please be careful you two. I should be done my meeting within the hour, I'll meet you in the gardens," the boys waved goodbye and you went off in opposite directions.
You had no doubt that Anakin was a competent Jedi, but something about Obi-Wan made him more lax than usual. While the Prince was infuriatingly stubborn, he had a small soft spot for Anakin. Obi-Wan and the King had discovered Anakin at some backwater planet during their travels. They had liberated the young slave and taken him home to the Jedi temple. So Obi-Wan had known Anakin for many years. Their relationship had grown closer to that of brothers. You had met the Prince just after completing your Jedi Trials, your braid freshly shorn. Anakin was a few years younger, and still training as a Padawan. As your feet carried you to the council room, you remembered that hellish first year being Obi-Wan's sole guard. Obi-Wan was four years older than you, and jumped at every chance to remind you of the fact. He also ignored your every instruction, dismissing you as some silly little girl. HIs actions had led him into more than one sticky situation, and it wasn't until the third kidnapping attempt that he begrudgingly began listening to you.
Stopping outside the council room, you calmed your mind and schooled your features before entering. Grand Master Yoda sat at the long table across from King Qui-Gon. You bowed low, and took your post at the side of the table.
Qui-Gon nodded shortly, Thank you for joining us, y/n. Unfortunately we haven't the time for pleasantries," he handed you a data pad. "We have reason to believe that someone has infiltrated the temple," he looked up at you gravely , "A Sith."
Your eyes widened and your hands tightened on the data pad.
"Surprised you are?" Master Yoda chortled, " For many years expected this, have we."
You wiped the expression from your face and looked down at the information on the data pad, "What is their target?", a sick feeling grew in your gut.
"The Prince," Qui-Gon said shortly.
A rush of panic went through your body, and you struggled to hide it. You remembered the dreams you had been having. Yellow eyes, glinting from the shadows, always watching you. Your nightmares couldn't be coming true.
Master Yoda looked at you with perceptive eyes, "Seen something, have you?"
"
Yes," you breathed, "But it was just a dream."
"Seldom the case, that is," Yoda said sagely.
Qui-Gon cleared his throat and you turned towards him. "In any case, see to Obi-Wan's complete protection. The Sith are highly trained adversities. You or Anakin alone are no match." He looked small somehow, older. "Please y/n, I'm counting on you. Dismissed."
You flung yourself out the door and down the hallway towards the gardens. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of your stomach every step you took closer. You prayed Anakin was still with Obi-Wan. You couldn't stop thinking of those glowing yellow eyes, and felt like they were watching you that very second.
Finally you arrived at the glass doors leading to the garden.
You threw them open roughly and drew your lightsaber. You stopped short at the sight of Obi-Wan sitting in a patch of white and yellow flowers. Anakin was stretched out on the ground at the Prince's side. He was describing , in great detail, a particularly tricky pod racing track from his youth. The two turned at your abrupt entrance, and Obi-Wan broke into a smile so bright you couldn't breathe at the sight.
"y/n! Great, please save me from Anakin's pod racing stories." Obi looked so happy to see you that your chest bloomed with warmth, causing you to forget your previous panic. Your body relaxed, and you clicked off your lightsaber, drooping with relief.
Anakin noticed your frazzled look and sat up on his elbows, "What's wrong?" he grinned wickedly. "Has Master Yoda banished you and now you've come to exact your revenge on the spoiled Princeling?" Obi-Wan smacked Anakin's arm, but looked up at you with a small, concerned sort of smile.
Your stomach flipped and you had the urge to smile stupidly back. Something seemed so different about the Prince today. Instead, you close your eyes and rubbed at your temples. "Anakin.." you sighed and kept your eyes shut. Your mind flashed back to Obi-Wan's smile, the sun shining on him through the glass ceiling, making his hair shine almost golden. His expression looked genuinely happy for once. Behind him swayed the dark green trees, and peeking through their needles: a pair of startlingly yellow eyes.
You ignited your saber at the same time as the blaster shot struck the centre of your stomach, burning straight through your robes. Your knees buckled and you fell to the warm grass, clutching at your middle. You could hear Anakin shouting and the sound of lightsabers clashing. As you tipped over sideways, you wondered what sort of Sith carried a blaster. You tried to will yourself to stand, but that one blast had clearly wrecked your abdominal muscles and you were quickly bleeding out. Someone was speaking to you, shouting really. They slapped at the side of your face, and pressed down on your stomach. You grunted in pain, and blinked heavily up at the person.
Obi-Wan hovered above you, his mouth moving rapidly but all you could hear was the buzzing of white noise in your ears. You used the last of your strength to brush your hand across his cheek, "Go", you croaked, "I'm alright, go." You couldn't even hear your own voice, you felt the words leave your lips however, and hoped the Prince could hear you.
Obi-Wan's face constricted in pain, and your hand dropped down. He was saying something again, lips moving silently. All you could focus on was the dark streak of blood you'd left on his cheek.
"Listen to me," you breathed. Your eyes rolled back and you lost consciousness.
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beowulfs-booty-call · 7 years
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You definitely remind me of a forest spirit. Not in the nymph sense, but one that can take the form of creatures and weed out hunters from the forest.
Ciao! Sorry I haven’t gotten to your ask! I just had major things happening and haven't even checked! 
On that note, 
when I really thought into it, I can actually say I think of it like that too..! When I first read your ask, I thought to myself, well, what situation would put me there? And so, I wrote a little something something to tie it in! Since Tumblr mobile isn’t understanding Read More’s right now, I’ll just put it point blank!
“The cold winter air was thick, the trees were a faded asphalt, the smell of the fresh snow was wafting in the nose of the hunter as he made his way through the dormant forest. Lost and cut off from his hounds, he’d no place to go to, no one to turn to but to cut whatever losses he had had and make way for home. The crow had flew overhead, its mocking laugh echoed as it circled over the confused intruder. When it flew low, the test of dodging thrown rocks proved effortless, the shadow cawing loudly and taking to the skies once more. Thinking back, the mutts were obviously more than happy eating his kill, he was sure of it. Always taking his meat, his food. It was preposterous... Having to keep them around, after all, good help is such a hard pressed find these days. 
The wind pressed harsher, the man’s weathered skin bundled under furs and worn down skins was thankfully warm as ever. He pulled over his hood with a huff, one arm tending to the small axe he kept on his person above his waist, the other over his eyes so as to better see where he was going. For extra measure, he had a small load of arrows on his back, a barely used bow carried as well. It was not his preferred method, but it was ideal for his predicament. The air brought much more unneeded snow, it was simply amazing being this lost, should he had looked back, he would have seen his own footprints becoming trapped under layers of fresh ice. 
“This was no out of the ordinary blizzard”, the idea flitted through his mind, eyes focused ahead through the darkened barks of trees which looked all too similar. He couldn’t tell where he was going, only that he must leave and return to his cabin. To live another day, sell the meat and fur off another brazen creature and then continue the cycle of his forest-life. Then, his eyes played tricks on him... A black beast was watching him, appearing a few paces ahead before disappearing as he neared closer. It lumbered away, he was sure of it, a beast broader than a wolf and claws sharper than his axe... But where did it go...?
And suddenly, leather boots marched slowly onto softer clouds, snow that had clumped together had begun to melt easier. It was as if the gods had taken pity on the lowly hunter and brought him good tidings!
Faint whispers became more apparent as time went on, at first, he had thought it was but simple crunching of the snow, but later words formed.
“You do not belong.”“This forest will be your doom.”
“Leave our home.”
It was so hard to think about anything but the voices. Voices, voices, voices. First it was a woman’s melody, a song, next a man’s voice which shook the hunter’s cold bones to the very core. Dark, imposing, and authoritarian. And the last was but a child, innocent and reminding the trespasser of his youth. But it was the clearing he had come to that finally put them to rest. A proud stag, with antlers that heralded power sipped water from the edge of a serene pool. The waters, azure to the sore eyes of the traveler, was a treasure to behold before the game in front of him. The beast watched him, ears following his every move as he stood silently for a few moments. 
The beast, though large and quite remarkable, had an amazing coat that would make a large profit in the market, the man was sure of it. Every piece of hair was course and was smooth to the touch, he thought. But... How beautiful a piece of fur would be, thrown to the dogs of strangers when he could have it all to himself? The stag withdrew its alarm, bending his neck to continue drinking from the pond below him; The perfect position to fire an arrow. The weapon was loaded, quiet and calculated, ready to kill its target at its moment’s notice. As the hunter drew his bow, the whispers began again, louder and worse than before:
“Stop.”
“You will regret taking from the forest what is not yours.”
“Do you not understand the graveness of this act?”
Ignorance was not the voices looked for, as the arrow shot through the air, cleanly missing the destination it was to land, but landing squarely into the leg of the marvelous beast. Thrashing its injuries, crimson mixed into the blue waters as the stag made its escape into the forest’s inner sanctums, leaving the hunter cursing and clutching his fists in anger. How could he have missed!? How could these voices have caused such meddlesome trouble!? How-- 
“You do not belong here.” The hooded hunter stared forward, the trees that had swallowed his prey nearly parting so as to let another man enter. He was tall, horns that trusted and curled like that of a demon, and a crown of leaves adorned his head like the ancient men of Greece. A strong, capable body that was no stranger to deathly blows was covered by vines and fur, an amalgamation of both man and forest. 
“S-Stay back, demon! I only came for,” 
“My forest.” The demon answered for him, growing closer as the awestruck hunter moved back in fear. A deep and angered tone that was exuding more than meets the eye.
“You humans take and take, never once did you stop and behave with respect to my companions. I’ve been watching you, hunter. Flying, walking, and, feeling your selfish desires.” The monster had continued, pulling a bloody arrow from the vines near his right thigh without pain. The gaping hole soon filled with flesh and became fully new, as if there was no injury. The arrow, however, had no luxury, split in front of its sender’s eyes.
“In the name of the father...”
The man chuckled a deep laughter. One that had drained the warmth of every fiber in the hunter’s being and his garments. The forest had laughed with him, the crows circling above and the snow thrown onto the ground. The horned man’s smile grew into a ravenous wolves’ grin, sharpened teeth replacing the once human face he had, and fingers becoming silver knives as they glided across his forehead ever gently. 
“You fool. You cannot banish in the name of the father, when the banished is the father. I told you, this is my forest.”
“O-Our father... Who...”
The demon waved a hand through the air, as the forest came to life and trapped his prey for him. Salty tears stung its eyes as it struggled against the roots and vines that had taken the arms and legs captive.
“And now, you will know the price of taking more than you need from my home.” 
The snow had laid thick again, the ice much less hardier this season around. The animals of the forest rejoiced as spring was to arrive soon, rabbits making their way out of their winter pelts, the rivers becoming thawed, and the first signs of spring flowers were taking buds. The unmarked forest had laid untouched for many years, humans never entering for reasons unexplained, researchers looking for the “Cernunnos of the forest” leaving claiming there was no clear path.
What had come to mind when speaking to the locals of the topic was much more simplistic. The forest was a safe haven for the animals, for the witches persecuted from the ancient times, for the demons casted out by the light. Strange things do happen in the oddest of places, but it is said that should you be pure of heart and the forest sees you without threat, you will find the remains of a broken bow and arrow in the clearing to show you the way home.
Should you be judged a threat to the forest, its said that you will be tested by the forest guardian himself.
What became of those who were judged, were never spoken of or seen, ever again.
(Thank you so much for sending me that ask! It means quite a bit to me! I hope this was alright!)
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