15|| The Festival

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edit: I added some scenes 

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"My prince? You're gonna have to come out now."

"Ju-just a second!" Ranboo's voice was shaky, as they paced back and forth in their room, about to burn a hole on the floor from the friction of their feet alone.

The insistent knocks on the door only makes them want to open it up, but whenever their hand hovered over the knob, the dryness of their mouth seems to worsen and they end up walking back into the center of the room.

It was just a festival, an event where every enderman in the dimension will attend to have fun, interact with each other, find new friends and meet the fake prince who is now panicking in their room, a second away from throwing theirself out of the window to pummel to their death.

Can they blame them though? This wasn't on their job resume, nothing in the job description of being a streamer includes becoming a royal destined to conquer a dragon in a world they thought was only a game.

Jesus, I have to fight the dragon myself. They groaned exasperatedly, clawing his face as they halt to fall to their knees.

Ranboo expelled a shaky exhale before looking around for something appropriate for a person his standing should sit at. They shouldn't have to worry about how to act around people to this degree, of all the people they could've turned into the prince, why did they choose them?

They head to the end of the bed, letting their body flop down on the mattress before reaching for a pillow to scream into. His head felt like it's about to explode from the constant worries and intrusive thoughts flooding in, distinct and hateful voice drowning the other parts of his brain trying to comfort him.

Wilbur is a better choice for a prince, hell, even Sapnap can do a better job than them.

Ranboo groaned into the pillow, resisting the urge to scream nonsense into it again before sitting up straight, with his fingers combing through their hair.

Should they escape the kingdom and hide somewhere? They didn't want to be more overly conscious of their actions than they already are. Sure, Ranboo can sit properly and stand straighter than him but what else can he bring to the table?

Maybe those years spent watching royal Barbie and Disney movies will finally pay off.

Deciding to start practicing, he pushed himself off the mattress and bending down to reach for his fallen jewelry. The golden crown in his hand seemingly heavier than it appeared as he stared at the intricacy and the gleaming jewels on the accessory, caressing the hem of the item, his heart slows.

Who knew crowns could feel addicting to touch? The ribbings at the edge of the circlet is addictive to run the pad of his fingers through, matched with the small swirls engraved just above it, Ranboo wouldn't mind having it with him.

Calmer than before, they walked towards the walk in closet to stand in front of the mirror, staring back at his distressed self. His eyes lingered longer on his empty head before reluctantly placing the crown onto the mop of hair he has, the dark gem carved to look like an ender eye perfectly aligned with his nose.

The long black tailcoat looked good on him, he thought. Taking the time to spin around, staring at how the tail coat swayed in the air before reaching a hand up to ruffle his locks before his hands fall to his chest to fix his coat and fix his bowtie, loosening it up. Even then, the phantom tightness around his throat remained as he cleared his throat. 

Surely they won't mind if he removed it right? 

His hand went to grab it before pulling it out, neatly placing them on the nearest surface and fixing his collars. He didn't know what Enderman fashion is like, they seem hellbent on covering every inch of skin because of how he looked like right now.

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕚𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 || Karl Jacobs x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now