Who Doesnt Love Modern Royalty Aus :~)

who doesn’t love modern royalty aus :~)

“i’m a prince(ss) & you’re the daughter/son of the royal head of security but i didn’t know that until after we hooked up one night oops” au

 “i can’t believe i get to interview the royal family this is my big break but oH MY GOD why is the prince(ss) looking at me like that fml s/he’s hot” au

“we’re both royalty & our parents are pushing us into marriage & even though we’re lowkey into each other we don’t wanna give them the satisfaction” au

“i undertook a false identity to get an american college education but someone figured out my secret am i screwed or what” au

“i’m a commoner who ended up in a relationship with a prince(ss) but the queen hates m oh god will i be sentenced to death i’m too young to die” au

“how did i end up sleeping with my hot bodyguard” au

“one day i’m on a class trip & the next i’m sneaking away from the rest of the group to hang out with a member of the royal family lol no biggie” au

it’s unusually late for cassius’ morning walk. normally, they’re up at the crack of dawn, making their way to the park before the sun can even rise. before most people can rise. but this morning she slept in - and her usually trusty alarm clock didn’t even attempt to wake her before 7am with his usual barks for breakfast. the extra hours spent slumbering must why he’s in a particularly good mood as he bounces through the leaves. the pure delight on his face stops her from being too annoyed by the disruption to her routine; by the fact that she now has to smile at passersby and exchange small talk about the weather. for a while she thought one of the benefits of having a staffordshire bull terrier would be that most people would prefer not to interact with him. but his sweetness is infectious, and even she has to admit that she prefers when children beam at him to when they shrink away. 

“you’re a good boy.” she murmurs to him as he plods happily along, giving nothing more than a curious glance to a toddler in a pushchair who had outstretched a hand to him. still, she keeps him on a tight leash as they wander through the entrance of the park. there are certainly worse ways to start the day than by wandering under the cover of trees, with sunlight peeking through thinning leaves to kiss her cheeks. for over a year after her accident she’d spent many a morning in a far worse state – alone, hungover, utterly disgusted with herself.

that was until elain bought a dog home from the shelter she volunteered at. “to foster” she’d claimed, while he healed from a surgery. at the time she’d assumed that her sister was simply using it as an excuse to keep the dog - barely an adult at the time - for herself. but when she continued to leave them alone each day, only coming home to give him medication on her lunch break, and he’d taken an unexpected shine to nesta despite her initial lack of interest, she began to suspect he was the one baby sitting her. when elain moved out a few months ago, leaving cassius with her as a “parting gift”... that was when she knew it had all been a ploy. she was more cunning than she looked. 

with the sunlight warming the bridge of her nose, nesta takes a moment to breathe in the fresh air; to roll her shoulders and move her neck from side to side. from the corner of her eye she can see that cassius has spotted a couple of pigeons ( hasn’t even noticed the squirrel overhead, launching itself from branch to branch… yet ) and she wants a couple more moments to adjust to the day before they begin to move again. 

“wait there, good boy…” she knows he’ll listen to her words, or perhaps the tone of her voice is what will resonate. but she definitely doesn’t expect a response. it isn’t the first time a man has made a comment during their walks - usually they have something to do with wishing they were the one on her leash, so this is tame in comparison. even so, she turns with an icy stare, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head to ensure that he can see just how unimpressed she is. although when she sees him, she is impressed. just slightly. it’s not often that the comments come from somebody who may actually stand a chance of her taking him home. he's tall, dark, and handsome - he also looks like he could throw her over his shoulder. exactly her type. unfortunately for him, she isn’t in the habit of picking up strange men in parks.

cassius must pick up on her irritation. he begins to bark at the stranger in warning. she looks the man up and down with a small raise of her eyebrows, lips curling; pleased that she’s inadvertently taught her dog to respond to men approaching her like this. but then he utters the word “treat” and it’s all over - the little traitor tugs on his leash so suddenly ( tail wagging madly ) that she’s pulled towards him. the effort to stay upright pulls her breath from her and she sighs, sniffs, wrinkles her nose.

“— it smells to me like you’ve had more than enough treats, but i’ll save you the time it takes to ask. i’m not interested in rubbing your belly… come on, cass.” with that she turns on her heel, gently tugging on the leash, and although cassius follows his gait is slow and stubborn.

cassian night has been out - all night. and while he does in fact smell of spilt liquors, sweat, and several unknown bodily fluids not of his own creation -- he is still in a cheerful mood. after all, being a bouncer at the most exclusive nightclub in town isn't the dream job necessarily, but it is an honest living. and it means that he gets to sleep for the next eight hours, and then wake up and do it all over again. and after the last tour of service? he'll take drunk hen parties over active duty any time.

he's stopped at his favourite local coffee spot, sipping his dirty chai latte with a double shot of espresso -- just strolling through the park district. it's the autumn season, and while he'd avoid this place like the plague in spring, the autumn? it's his favourite. the crunch of leaves beneath the big black kick ass boots he wears makes him feel nearly giddy. the smile that lights his face as he nods at the little old ladies who are feeding the pigeons as they do nearly every day. and then the nannies and their charges bundling off to daycares and exclusive schools.

most are familiar by sight, though he only knows the name of a few. a hum as he sips his drink slowing his walk to enjoy the crisp breeze that stirs the unrly crown of curls. he isn't sure how long he's lost in the enjoyment of that moment - but a voice draws him out of that reverie.

great brown eyes turn towards the voice, there's a rasp to it, a huskiness that speaks of -- unspeakable things in soft illuminated rooms with satin sheets and light glittering through the drapes -- he hears the words now.

wait there -- good boy. ( @moondevoured ) says.

' yes ma'am -- ' ever the good soldier replies. instinct more than thought fuels the action.

and the grin widens, a flash of teeth as he cocks his head - inadvertantly doing just as that siren's voice as told him. stopping. there. in the middle of the sidewalk, sipping his drink, waiting for whatever that voice might tell him to do next. of course the not idiotic part of his brain is shrieking that it's not about him -- but he isn't listening to that part. no -- instead his gaze is finding her. slim and well built, a woman stands there with her dog, the dog having clearly had designs on one of the wandering well fed pigeons.

cassian can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him -- he doesn't care he's just made a fool out of himself. but -- there is a flush that rises up his neck.

' do i get a treat? if so -- i have a request. '

saw a super cute staffy in town today so i decided for nesta’s dog in my modern au to be a staffy, only to see this on tiktok.

continued from here...

"oh, i'm pretty sure i can!" nesta's amusement is evident in her voice, although her features form the picture of bemusement. "from where i'm sitting, what's happening on either side of this room is just two different shades of the same insanity." it is, but she finds herself smiling ( the smallest curl of her lips ) despite herself. whatever they've got going on is questionable at best - but infinitely better than her own coping mechanisms.

she finds herself eyeing @gilmor's assortment of snacks, morbidly fascinated by the strange combination of textures of flavours. there's no way that they taste good one after the other, but she's curious. "— let me guess, you don't share food?"

i'm upsettingly really in the mood to write but i'm so tired from work that nothing makes sense x

N E S T A A R C H E R O N | Lady Death

What did you wake that day in Hybern?