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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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Winter's King 21

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I am very tired.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As promised, the king acquires you a full outfit to face the cold. A fur trimmed hat to replace your standard linen cap, a pair of lined hide gloves, and thick boots that go to your knees. He has bolstered you to face the elements but you are wholly unprepared to face the corridors as the glances of soldiers and servants meet you with a new glint of judgement.

You wear the king’s cloak as before. You keep your head low under the hood as he walks ahead of you. It is a farce. A poorly acted charade. How naive you’d been for so long not see through it all. You were the perfect fool for an intent audience.

You descend and come out to the west of the castle, through a door beneath a sharply peaked arch. The snow continues to heap over the land though the winds have relented. The king pauses as you emerge and reaches to take you by the wrist, as if he fears you might be lost in the powder.

He walks you across the yard towards the stables built across a flat of land nestled along a curved rock wall. The doors creaks as he pushes through and the heat of braziers and horses’ bodies greets you within. Sniffs, snorts, and knickers rise in the air as you walk between the stalls. There is one in which a single horse resides, the rest crowded in pairs and trios.

You look up at the steed’s dark snout, it’s eyes even bleaker as it snuffs out harshly. It’s nostrils flair at your approach and the king clicks his tongue at the beast. It raises its nose then shakes its head. It’s ebony iris fixates on you as its master touches its braided mane.

“Roach,” you murmur into the dry air.

“You remember,” he comments gently.

“Yes,” you watch the horse as it watches you. It bows its head, nose coming close to yours, fuming hot breath around you. It sniffs the trim of your hood.

“Let the animal see you,” the king advises.

You bring your hands up and push back the hood, letting it hang over your shoulders. You stare at the dark eyes. Roach continues to twitch his nose in your direction then further dips his head, pressing against your chest. Uncertain, you bring your hands to touch his soft ears.

“Ah,” the king sighs, “Roach is rarely partial to any but me. Even I receive a nip or too from the curmudgeon.” He chuckles and touches the horse’s thick neck. “others have nearly lost a finger and even sacrificed garment or two.”

“A creature so volatile, he makes a good war horse?”

“She,” he corrects you.

“Oh, apologies.”

“I doubt she minds,” he muses and pets her long nose as she raises her head. “She is restless. She would do good for the exercise.”

He lowers his hand and unclasps the stall door. He pulls it out as you step out of the way. The horse clomps through, kicking impatiently as it blows through its lips. The king moves parallel to you and draws you before him. Before you or Roach can react, he has you aloft, urging you onto the horse’s unsaddled back.

“Hold tight,” he girds and puts his hands to the horse’s shoulder, “come, Roach.”

The horse starts and you press your hands to her back, clamping on with your thighs. You rock with her motion to keep from slipping. You duck with the mount as she bends through the door the king holds open. The winter snows dusts down on you as you emerge.

The king drags his palm along the horse’s side and swings himself up with little effort. He sit behind you, Roach not missing a step or buckling at his ascent. He pulls you snug to him, tugging up your hood as the chill nips at your cheeks. He wraps his arms around you and clutches a swathe of the horse’s braids. He whistles and leans, guiding the horse away from the castle.

“She is obedient,” you remark at her agile response.

“I prefer mares for that reason,” he returns. You wonder if it is a quip meant for the queen or yourself. Perhaps both. “It isn’t very far, though the path is steep.”

You nod and stare at the white expanse, a few jutting rocks pocking out above the carpet of snow, leafless branches reaching out here and there. The horse carries you to a ledge, narrow and treacherous, and you lean back into the King Geralt as the edge has you dizzy. He slips his hand beneath your cloak to squeeze your hip.

“I have you, treasure, you needn’t fear,” he assures.”

“Yes, your highness, thank you,” you touch his knuckles and shiver.

“Sweet summer maid,” he purrs as he draws you snugger. “This winter is harsh but I will keep you warm.”

You shudder and hang your head. For so much comfort as he offers, you find little. It isn’t only the snow which chills you.

You ride on, the impact of hooves softened by the layers below, the air hollow and biting as it seeps beneath your hood. The sky ripples grey and seems to darken as you descend the curling path along the cliff’s edge. At once, you are plunged into thick blackness.

The world levels out and the king shifts, sliding off the mount to land on his feet. You peek over your shoulder and see the grim light through the mouth of the cave. The king touches your leg and you turn, letting him help you from the height. Roach kicks and spits.

The king frames your waist before he releases you. You listen to his steps as he moves through the dim. There’s is a scratch as he strikes flint and flame illuminates his shadow. He bends and takes something from the ground. He pauses and works with one hand, wrapping something around the thick stick. He lights the length of linen around the wood’s tip, a torch to see you along.

“She will stay, she is not keen on confinement, especially underground,” he girds and removes his own cloak, draping it over the horses back, “the air enlivens me, I shouldn’t need that much.”

He wears a leather coat, sewn of thick strips of black and studded with silver. He approaches you and bends his arm, offering it gallantly as a gentleman might with a lady. You hesitate and hook your arm through it, hugging his elbow as he leads you deeper, the torch flickering with each step.

You enter a tunnel with rocky tendrils stretching from top to bottom, encased in layers of ice and frost. The flame illuminates the frozen layers. Deeper and deeper you go, quiet as your curiosity mingles with concern. Where are you going?

Your boot slips on a slippery patch but the king keeps you upright. You thank him and bring your other arm across to steady yourself on his bicep. You feel his muscle bulging beneath. You do not doubt his promises. He will keep you safe. Down here, but you doubt what he might do without.

He raises the torch as the air thins and you the cave opens up. You look around as the walls lay beyond the breadth of the torches glow. Your eyes are drawn by the icy fingers hanging from the ceiling. There is one close to you. You reach to touch its pointed tip.

“Icicles,” the king says, “be careful of the thin ones, they might fall.”

He moves the torch to show more, all around you, light fangs the line the cave, lining the edges. The flame sparkles on their eerie translucence. Then the king lowers the light and you look down beneath your feet. You’re stand on ice!

“Your highness,” you instinctively pull yourself closer to him, your soles sliding as you try to walk further.

“It will not break,” he assures you as he urges you on, “this cave never thaws, even in the warmer months. They call it the Moth’s Den.” He leads you across the ice and your eyes catch on the icicles, thick and thin, some pointed, some reach to touch the floor. You hear an odd hum, almost a buzz, and he sweeps the torch before you.

You stop to gape at the wall before you. It looks soft and fluffy, almost like fur. Then you lean closer and see the wings. Pale silver moths, fluttering in place, clinging to the wall. Their fuzzy bodies line every morsel of the space.

“Snow moths. Harmless creatures. Unlike their summer counterparts, the detest the light,” he extends his arm and a circle along the icy wall is sudden bare as the moths move to avoid the glare. “When I was a boy, I always wanted to have one as a pet. I could never get one past the entrance before it escaped and flew back to the depths.”

You blink and lower your hand from his arm, though you stay hooked onto him, “I didn’t think this was your home.”

“As a boy it was. At least, that’s how I saw it. My father, king of the day, sent me here to train with Lord Vesemir. As much to keep me out of trouble. I am not unaware of myself. I was not the best behaved. Vesemir took me in and he bides no mischief,” King Geralt explains, “though he does not rule without compassion. He taught me many things more than discipline. He taught me,” the king peers over at you, “that my heart should be heard just as plainly as my mind. If you do not balance them, then it will all topple.”

You look back at him. Your chest aches deeply. Doesn’t he know you don’t have that privilege? Can he not see that you do not get that choice? Even for a king.

You might never had cared for Lady Rezlyn and her gossip. You think it cruel and unkind. Often you wonder if she spoke less of others, if she might gain more friends. You never engaged much in Merinda’s whispers either. But you heard them and you know what becomes of mistresses.

The other woman. That’s what you’ll become. A whore. A name to be spat. A figure to be avoided. A maid might be ignored but she neither favoured or despised. She just is. She has her purpose. A mistress only has the stain put upon her. The one who taints who my walk away, but she never will.

“The ice becomes you, treasure. The cold it... pales to your beauty,” he smiles down at you. His gold eyes are vibrant and his fine features are even more admirable in the limn of the flame.

He lifts his chin and takes steady steps away from the wall and leads you towards a jutting stone at the other end of the cavern. He bends to plant the torches base in the crevice at its foot. The torch leans but stands on its own.

He faces you, untangling from your arm, and puts his hands on your shoulders, “I want to know what you think. Tell me. Do you like my homeland? Do you like the winter?”

Your lips part and you glance up. Your eyes wander around the space and you turn your head. You raise your hands to touch the king’s leather gloves.

“I think I do,” you answer. You can’t deny the beauty even if it is deadly. “I might think differently should I meet a bear or a wolf.”

“It is why you must stay close, treasure, I would never let a beast get anywhere near,” he avows, “I refer to all beasts. Be it man or animal. You will always have me. You needn’t be afraid.”

You lower your eyes. You can’t say the truth. He knows it but he refuses it. His is a king, he might bend even the world to his whim. You let your hands trails down his forearms. He drops his hands and takes yours.

“Will you tell me more? About when you were a boy?” You ask, hoping to forget the present a little longer. You are intrigued to think of this man as just a child. It is a rather impossible concept.

“Hm, well,” he lets go of you and moves around you. He comes behind you and presses himself to your back. He rocks you as he turns you to admire the cave, “I would come to these caves and talk to myself...” he laughs rockily, “you see, if you holler loud enough, your voice bounces back at you. Lord Vesemir, he is not always in the mind for conversation and horses can be just as finicky.”

He continues to turn you with him. Even without his cloak, his warmth seeps into you.

“And I would gather bouquets of frostwart and white willowrods for they are the closest to flowers that grow here. I would put the bunches all around, as if I was too be coronated. I was told every day I would be king and I wanted to be ready, but mostly, I’d pretend I was at tourney. I would have my practice sword and I would parry with the air. The air was not so mean as Vesemir with his jabs.”

You listen, closing your eyes, trying to see it in your head. A white-haired boy with his golden eyes and flowers and swords. Now a man who’s marched through blood and dirt. How time changes more than the seasons, it transforms all.

“What of you, maid? I want to know of you. When you were a child, did you frolic with the rabbits and the squirrels?”

You go rigid. You try to pull away but he has you caught. You lean back and exhale heavily.

“The life of a maid isn’t very interesting,” your murmur.

“You were always a maid? Even when you were young?”

“Always,” you affirm. “I emptied pots, brought Lord Dustan his boots, though at times, Lady Jazlene required a playmate...”

He’s quiet at the mention of his wife. You feel the crack in your heart. Your nose is numb and tingling.

“Yet, how did you become a maid? Before that, was there nothing?” He asks.

“Please, your highness--”

“I bid you call me by my name.”

“Geralt,” you utter, “please, I beg you, I wouldn’t speak of before.”

“Did you have parents? Siblings--”

“None of it,” you hiss and elbow away from him, throwing your arms out to keep balance. You spin and shake your head, “please. My parents are dead. Long gone. And the memories I have of them are nothing more than that. They’ve only ever been dead to me.”

He is taken aback, his face pale and cheeks tight, “treasure, forgive me, I only... I want to know everything of you--”

“You know what I am. I am a maid. That is it. That is all I can ever be. I am not a lady, not a wife, not a queen,” you clap your hands together, the impact softened by your mittens, “you cannot make me anything different, king as you may be. I will only ever serve, and you will only ever command.”

His lips part and he steps towards you, “that isn’t true.”

“It’s what must be true,” you look to your feet, “might I make a request?”

“Anything,” he says.

“Take me back to the castle,” you raise your eyes.

He nods solemnly and reaches for you, “as you wish.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher #winter's king

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just-a-ghost00 · 3 months

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Mini PAC - Details about your soulmate/TF using game cards and letters

Group 1 - Cassette

Banana card : they are fruity! If they’re a man, they have big D energy. They are joyful. They come from a warm climate country. Possibly an island.

Bunny card : this person is super cute and lovely. They look like a baby. They are very kind and soft with others. They have a high sex drive. Their teeth and ears could be parts of their body that you like about them. They feel very innocent and vulnerable.

Airplane card : this person likes to travel for fun and/or travels a lot for work. They live at a distance from you. They enjoy fast communication. They are active. They are curious and love to be challenged.

Letters : T H U N L I I O E Z E I C U Y I M A

Words or names I picked up on ( feel free to add more to the list in the comments) :

Liam, Theo, Noah, Noe, Zain, Zina, Zelie, Mona, Mina, Naim, Chloé, Chile, Lucy, Milan, Athene, Luna, China, mole, eye, cutie, cinema, zinc, camel, thyme, chain, lion, Leo, Helio, Nile, mint, maze, hazel, mountain, cunt, aconite, Lyna, Lina, Alice, menace, county, yen, Celine, TMI, TUE(sday), OCT(ober), autumn, Ciel, honey, Luca, Han, menu, hate, anime

Group 2 - Subway

Bicycle and train card : they live at a distance from you but it could be easily accessible. They enjoy traveling and/or they travel for work. They like biking.

Dress card : they are pretty feminine. They like to dress unconventionally. So if they’re a man, they like to wear skirts or high heels, to put on makeup. If they’re a woman, they’re a bit of a tomboy. They enjoy fashion in general. They could be a model.

Dolphin card : they are sociable. Their family matters a lot to them. They are very sensitive and in tune with their intuition. They have a kind and generous heart. They are playful, even flirty. They like water and/or leave near a body of water.

letters : W E E M S A U T T B A E E O R E N R

Words and names I picked up on (feel free to add more to the list in the comments) : tenor, Muse, water, Mona, Mason, Saturn, Beau, war, ram, Taurean, brat, bae, West, euro, won, MON(day), mount, sun, tarot, bus, runes, tan, beast, Roman, Roma, Meteora, Mars, ASMR, Ares, Arena, amore, nature, muerte, mentor, senor, Matteo, master, webmaster, woman, man, Erasme, Bruno, brunette, same, torn, tears, BTS, Naruto, Moana

Group 3 - Snacks

Letters X L N E J E E A O N A H N N L I R W L

Words and names I picked up on (feel free to add to the list in the comments) :

Hélène, Helena, Nia Jax, jail, Leo, Xena, hell, Joan, Joana, Jane, Jean, Jona, jean, Noel, Noe, Noa, lion, JAN(uary), Wall E, halo, hola, hello, Axel, Hoax, Jihane, Will, Jorah, horn, Jael, Jeanne, norn, helix, Halle, alien, Rollex, Rollin, Alienor, Jolie, Rio, Janeiro, Nelliel, Ronnie, Leon, Johann, Neil

Watermelon card : They support Palestine. They come from a warm climate country. They love summer. They love watermelon. They like your juice ;)

Tennis ball card : They are athletic. They enjoy tennis or any type of ball game. They got balls ;) They are swift and fast. They communicate quickly, they are witty and sarcastic.

Socks card : You'd feel very cozy with them. They have an odd but warm personality. They enjoy date nights snuggling by the fireplace or Netflix and chilling. They have cold feet.

#pick a card #pac reading #soulmate reading #twin flame reading #spiritual pac #love pac

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ryin-silverfish · 5 months

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Ask/Writing Masterlist (irregularly updating)

Ryin(阿璎), 23. She/They. First Gen Chinese student. Ryin_Silverfish on AO3. Currently hyperfixating on old Chinese novels. casual Zhiguai tales and LMK enjoyer.

Investiture of the Gods/FSYY:

Why are the Daoist immortals fighting?

Did Yuanshi Tianzun manipulate Shen Gongbao?

Chan, Jie, and possible prejudice against yaoguai

Azure Lion and the other Bodhisattvas' steeds in FSYY

Daji's fox form in FSYY Pinghua

The historical Su Daji

Is Shen Gongbao a yaoguai?

Are all yaoguai irredeemable monsters in FSYY?

Ao Bing and the dragons Nezha fought

Does deification wipe your memory and personality?

Bi Gan and the Great Fox Massacre

More discussion about prejudice against yaoguai

How old was Su Daji the human when she died?

Differences between FSYY novel and Pinghua

Musing on FSYY's view of fate and its possible effects on Yang Jian

Master Yuding

The messy marriages of FSYY

Is Daji a goddess in the novel?

Names of immortal masters in FSYY

Just for fun: the FSYY drinking game

Nezha's age in FSYY

Nezha's death and resurrection in FSYY

What happened to the original Daji?

Lady Shiji aka the Rock Demoness

Chinese Fox Spirits:

Auspicious/Demonic Foxes

More on fox exams

Offerings to fox spirits

The "Lady Fox Immortal"

Chinese Mythos in General:

The Precious Scroll of Erlang

Into the Erlang-verse: Li, Zhao, Yang

Can immortal masters romance their students?

Why we don't power-rank characters in God-Demon novels

A brief overview of Chang'e

On Chinese Religion and "Respect"

The 28 Lunar Mansions

Can the Heavenly Emperor be replaced + a primer on dynastic successions

A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)

Is Nüwa JE's daughter?

Weaver Girl

Can yaoguais a/o their descendents enter the Celestial Bureaucracy?

Queen Mother of the West and her husband(s)

Bixia Yuanjun, Lady of Mt. Tai

Erlang's dad

The story that gives us the name "Yang Jian"

On the transformation of Erlang's image (and his relationship with JE in JTTW)

Erlang's mom, Lotus Lantern, and a neat little discovery

Erlang cameos in other stories and Zajus

Erlang's mom-saving story in Chinese operas

Child Manjushri, or: the absurdity of pinning a definitive age on gods

The strange modern ship of Mengpo/Yuelao, and Mengpo's myths

The half-beast form of QMoW

Does Erlang have a wife/love interest?

Nezha's mom

A overview of Gonggong and his mythos

Some introductory sources on the Chinese Underworld

A side-by-side comparison of Nezha's backstory in JTTW and FSYY

Mythos-inspired Worldbuilding:

Dragons of the Four Seas

LMK S5 and a possible "Celestial Council of Regents" AU

LMK S5 Fix-it: the Four Divine Beasts

Character/Story Analysis (JTTW + LMK)

Heart and Mind: Tripitaka

Local Lion Uncle enjoyer goes on a rant

On SWK and his fear of death

Why the Dead People Supreme Court?

No, seriously, why?

Chinese Underworld =/= Christian Hell

LMK S4, Havoc in Heaven, and revolutions

Why I dislike the "class warfare" reading of Havoc in Heaven

In Defence of Li Jing...ha, as fucking if

On Yin-Yang, Chaos/Order, and the Harbringer

JTTW's view on the Three Religions

Disjointed S5 Reactions

"Chaos doesn't work that way in traditional Chinese Cosmology"

Xiangliu, the Nine-headed Bird, and Jiutou Chong

Lotus Lantern: The Summaries

Part 1: Precious Scroll of Chenxiang

Part 2: The Epic of Prince Chenxiang

Part 3: Lotus Lantern 1.0 + 2.0

Part 4: Chenxiang and the Male-Female Swords

My Fanfics:

Climbing the Sky

The Wild Son

Bodhicitta

The Serpent and the Deluge

South Seas Sojourn

Journey of the Gods AU sideblog

#masterlist #masterpost #pinned post

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cod-dump · 6 months

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Okay. But. What fantasy/Mythical creatures do you think the cod characters would be?? (Satyrs, centaurs, merfolk, gorgons, etc.)

Ghost as a demon or demonic entity. He has a human form but he can barely keep it from being uncanny valley so he just hides behind a mask. He can travel through shadows and manipulate them (cause a lit hallway to become completely dark without touching the lights). He doesn’t eat in front of people and those who have seen him eat are thankful.

Gaz is a vampire. He’s relatively young for one but he’s very efficient. He chooses to ethically get his food from blood banks and is genuinely grossed out by the thought of drinking from a living being, willing or not. Gaz has trained himself to have excellent self control around blood or those who are injured and considered easy prey.

Price being a werewolf or lycan or some kind of shifter. He visibly appears human and there’s little showing that he isn’t. He’s very efficient in controlling his transformations and being in control while as a beast, but he is not above blaming the wolf to get someone off his back when his temper gets the better of him. He’s very protective of his people and those he considers family.

Soap is a descendant of a Fire Giant. He’s not a full monster and he’s not in control of most of his abilities. He has an immunity to fire and intense temperatures along with an ability to control fire with his hands (manipulate an existing flame). He is not half Fire Giant or even the child of a half human hybrid, so his gift in his fire abilities is rather odd. His lack of control is a result of having no one in his life that could show him how to be in control.

Laswell is human but she’s with the occult. She has a powerful gift in magic and knows how to use it. Though there’s wonder if there’s something else in her bloodline that gave her such a gift, she hasn’t bothered to look. She is considered a monster expert, if she doesn’t know something she’s quick to figure it out. Has mastered the ‘shut up’ spell. It does exactly what you think it does.

Nik is another lycan or shifter. He’s huge when shifted, bigger than Price. And he has a complete immunity to the cold. While being a shifter is very obvious, there’s something else that no one can pinpoint. He does have a gift in magic but he’s very private about who he shows. His loyalty is fiercely towards Price but he does extend it to Laswell and the boys.

Farah is human but is an expert monster slayer. Like Laswell, Farah has a vast knowledge about monsters and their abilities and weaknesses. Is very open minded about good monsters and their existence, which is why she aims to try to figure out how to help someone before she results in killing them (if they’re worthy of help). Has mused the idea of being a lycan after Price and Nik have showed her the pros of being a creature of the night.

Alex is a human. He has no gift in magic and isn’t a gifted slayer or has much knowledge in monsters. One day Laswell just hit him with a mission that involved a pack of feral vampires and he has been lost ever since. He’s learning but there’s so much going on. Lost his leg to a lycan (is terrified of Price and Nik as a result but he won’t admit it).

Don’t ask how many monster aus i have now I don’t even know lol

#monster 141 #call of duty #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #kate laswell #cod nikolai #alex keller #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble

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gemmahale · 2 months

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Righteous Fury Master List

When one man finds himself in the same position he was in four years ago, he has a choice to make. When the beast hungry for retribution and protection roars, Sergeant John 'Soap' MacTavish answers.

That choice leads him into a life he never expected as part of Task Force 141 and SpecGru: one of subterfuge, counter-terrorism, and intelligence operations. He knows how to defuse a bomb and shoot a gun, but can he handle the increased pressure of the work?

For the shattered but unbroken.

A fix-it and beyond of MWIII. Part of the Museum Muse Universe.

Contains: Canon Typical Violence, Gun and Knife Violence, Civilian Death, Character Death

Many thanks to my partner, Kallen, for the technical advice. This wouldn’t be here without the two hour lecture I endured listened to about all the inaccuracies of bomb design and hand-to-hand combat in the original material. (I brought it upon myself by asking for help from him. ☺️)

My editors @the-californicationist, @syoddeye, @pfhwrittes and @eilidh-eternal are amazing and you should support them too.

Edit (9.17.2024): Huge ginormous thanks to @phoenixhalliwell for their Scot-picking throughout this adventure.

Chapter 1: Don't Go Down Easy, Sunshine

Chapter 2: Twilight Falls Heavy

For WIP thoughts, check out #Rightous Fury WIP.

#gemma writes fanfic #Righteous Fury WIP #john 'soap' mactavish #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwiii #call of duty modern warfare #soap mactavish #cod soap #johnny soap mactavish #cod mwiii fix it #fix it fic #fan fiction

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lokittystuckinatree · 3 months

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Theorizing? Speculating? Musing? Daydreaming? about what the Master could have to do with *that* reveal

The Master has been haunting the narrative so much it can no longer be ignored. At first, I thought it was fan service, and then that the writers were haunting the Doctor with memory of the Master. Now, I can’t help wondering if they have a plan for the Master they aren’t telling us…Apparently the vainglorious theme even played in the Legend of Ruby Sunday.

This episode revealed that the one who waits is Sutekh, the God of Death, who I tragically know little about, as I just started Classic Who and haven’t seen Pyramid of Mars yet…(I plan to by next week.)

Sutekh is the God of Death, and in Master? I think? It was revealed that the Master is Death’s champion because the (future) Doctor killed their bully only to make a deal with Death to swap he and the Master’s fates or something like that? (Spare me the details)

Which has me thinking: what a great opportunity for narrative parallels. Is it possible that the Master has made some sort of pact to do the Death God’s bidding in return for being freed from the Toymaker’s tooth?

Sutekh is also heavily associated with the Devil and Satanic imagery; he was conjured like a demon and maybe possesses people? He is referred to as the Beast, and in Satan Pit, the same actor played Stand-In Satan.

The Master has dabbled in vaguely Gothic Horror like tropes before (Cybermen as transhumanist nightmares, reanimated corpses controlled by a Mad Scientist? Missy’s whole Mad Wife in Attic thing?) so would Tortured Artist Sells Soul to the Devil be that unreasonable?

Is my writer brain cooking, or has my Master brainrot progressed to madness? Would the Master hate being caged enough to give up a bit of their control? Would RTD even think of that?

Probably not, but who’s gonna stop me fantasizing, the police?

#Doctor Who #doctor who spoilers #The Master #sutekh #ruby sunday #the legend of ruby sunday #dw spoilers #dw series 14 #Koschei #the doctor #Thoschei

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hocuspocusbabyy · 4 months

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Together: Eloise x Cressida. 🦢🕊️

Warnings: None? Just mad fluff?

Description: Cressida and Eloise share a private moment at home.

Paring: Eloise Bridgerton x Cressida Cowper

"Sweetheart?" Eloise called as she ascended the stairwell. Her shoes removed and in hand, the navy silk of her skirts creased and displaced beneath her loose corset. "Cressida?" The brunette tried again gracing her hand along the bannister at the bottom of the stairs.

Cressida's house was always so quiet compared to her own, there were no siblings, nieces, nephews causing fuss or throwing tantrums, no annoying cheery music musing from within the drawing room nor her sister's bashful interpretation of said music ; just pure unadulterated peace.

Edging further down the familiar hall Eloise entered the master bedroom, classical music faded towards her from the en-suite bathroom; smirking slightly she removed her shirt placing it carelessly on the bed aside a pile of another's previously discarded clothes.

Her bare feet graced the bathroom tile as the sight of the blonde came into view, arms spread to either side of the bathtub, hair tied on top of her head and water just meeting her collar bone. Eloise stared silently for longer than she'd like to admit, longer than 5 years of dating would suggest; but sometimes she found it hard to believe her own luck.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch me all night?" The other woman rasped, eyes still closed as she faced away from the brunette, there was no way for her to have known that Eloise was there other than blind presence.

Smiling Eloise bent beside the tub, stroking Cressida's hair. "How was your day?"

"Tedious, not as remotely interesting as my morning with you" she mused, shifting slightly to press her face against the palm of Eloise's hand.

"I see" the brunette murmured back as Cressida kissed her hand. Following across the lines of her cheek with the backs of her fingers, the bone smooth, sharp and sturdy beneath her touch.

"How's your mother?"

"As boastful as ever, ranting on and on about the impending arrival of Colin and Penelope’s third child.”

“I was sorry to have missed them.” Cressida mused basking in the joy of her lover's nose grazing against her own. A hand reaching round to support the other woman’s head, teasing gently at the hair at the back of her neck.

“They understood, you had work. Mother did however send me away with some of those apple tarts you love.” the brunette replied idly, pacing her hand down Cressida's arm in a soothing manner. Her mouth finds purchase upon her flesh, not moving yet, merely speaking against her. Breathing in the familiar scent of gardenia, which always did wonders to sooth her heart after a long day.

"Ah and you wonder why she is my favourite Bridgerton" Eloise rolled her eyes and pinched the other woman’s arm "Ouch stop that you beast" Cressida moaned withdrawing her arm into the water. Ripples of soap foaming around her, Eloise refusing to allow the space, her lips now pressed a path of kisses from temple to the corner of her mouth.

"Enough of that ''Eloise ordered resting on her heels and drawing Cressida to turn towards her, "I seem to recall you telling me I was your favourite Bridgerton" pouting slightly as Cressida sat sideways within the bath to face her lover.

"You're my favourite person, there's a difference" Eloise smiled slightly as Cressida's wet hand touched her cheek, "now are you getting in or are you going to just sit there sulking?"

Eloise scoffed, rising from the floor to remove her clothing, familiar wet hands raising to idly untie her corset, "I don't sulk" she argued before climbing into the bath beside Cressida. Resting against the blondes chest as they hummed along to the music that for a time had been forgotten, Eloise became at ease. Cressida's finger tangled within her hair and the heat of the water consumed her body.

"You know I don't have to be a Bridgerton" The brunette whispered, sinking further into the water in fear of her own words, wanting nothing more than to forget them the moment they left her mouth. However the blonde wouldn't allow it as the grip on her waist tightened and raised Eloise from the water and onto her chest.

"But I want to be," the blonde whispered, pressing her face against the other woman’s neck "so that is what we will be together, do you understand?"

"Bridgertons?" Eloise quizzed slightly as Cressida's lips feathered against the shell of her ear.

"I think Mrs Cressida Bridgerton, has quite a ring to it; don't you?"

Eloise turned to face Cressida and smiled brightly "I think it sounds perfect" kissing Cressida gently, their tongues seeking refuge together. The most precious movement and expression of their affection for one another. Eloise could no longer count how many times they had done that, nor predict how many times they would. Though neither of them could imagine a moment where they’d stop.

Cressida would never grow tired of having Eloise so close. Each freckle, indentation and expression etched into her face perfectly transparent as Cressida kissed her chin. The small groove of a scar, aged and delicious beneath her lips.

Eloise meticulously worked at mapping the palms of Cressida’s hands as the blonde menstruations continued across her neck.

“I love you.” The brunette whispered gently against the flesh, her tongue sticking out to swipe at the skin between Cressida’s ring and index finger. Her lips finally settled to suck at the place a ring would soon be placed.

They may not be married in the eyes of the church, accepted by the ton nor openly within society. However they’d wear the rings as a commitment to one another, just as any man and woman would. They’d know, their chosen family would know and they’d be together.

Cressida smiled gently, it wasn’t often Eloise uttered such things even in private moments between them. The brunette had voiced on many occasions that she found the sentiment tedious. How could such words ever hold meaning if people insisted on using them as frequently as possible? The blonde however knew, there was no moment of her day, or plaques in memory which Cressida Cowper had ever felt anything less than enamoured, consumed, seen and beloved by Miss Eloise Bridgerton.

“I cannot wait to be your wife.” Cressida grinned, her hold suddenly tightened as if to savour the moment a second longer.

The blondes hand soon reached to guide her future wife from the the increasingly cold bath water, each taking turns drying the other in admiration as their content smiles continued to grow; they failed to find an issue in that moment as they fell asleep in each other's arms with the peaceful reminder that one day they would be Bridgertons together.

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #cressida cowper x eloise bridgerton #eloise x cressida #eloise bridgerton #cressida bridgerton #cressida cowper #creloise #fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #Bridgerton

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everglow-synth · 3 months

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I've got this burning like my veins are filled with nothing but gasoline

An urban sci-fi/fantasy world based on the Synthwave aesthetic, D&D, and many different movies, TV shows and video games. Main characters include: Matthew Blake - Bartender turned vigilante superhero Polybius - An amnesiac android trying to keep himself alive Pockets - Friendly arcade owner and robot skeleton Jonathan Whitman - Cult detective with an elder god deep within Verox - A dragon that gifted the world of Polycus with magic

18+ Only!

Crossover, OC and AU friendly!

NSFW friendly!

Will RP with fandoms I'm not familiar with!

Multiple sideblogs, listed below the cut!

And with a spark it's gonna be the biggest fire they've ever seen

Carrd + Rules and About | Spotify Playlist

Doom Slayer / @slayers-testament A strange, time/space scattered warrior fighting against (most of) demonkind. Compatible with Hellzbin or Helltaker muses! (I keep a leash on him, I swear.)

Multifandom Multimuse / @the-devils-toybox A place for me to drop my silly little obsessions without having to make them all new blogs. Crossover and AU friendly!

Miles "Tails" Prower / @powered-by-prower An older, more mature take on the fox, mixing headcanon, game lore, comic lore and Sonic X lore to make something new. Features Gemerl as a secondary muse, and E-102γ/Gamma as a tertiary muse!

Andros, The Last Golden Lynel / @golden-lynel The last Golden Lynel left in Hyrule after the Great Upheaval, Andras commands Ganondorf's minions with an iron fist. He is a beast on the battlefield with a deep, unending hatred of the Master Sword and its handler.

#distant beats | ooc #within the static I know I'm not alone | promo

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caffedrine · 1 year

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Chevalier Michel - The Beauty Fulfils the Beast's Dream - Event Summary

I used to not care for Chevalier, but then suddenly he was up there in my faves, not sure how that happened, but here we are.

If you trust me to know what I'm doing, then we have both made a huge mistake. I cannot guarantee accuracy for this summary, or even grammatical correctness.

Please support Cybird and pick up this event when it makes it to the English Server

Even now, his Majesty the King, Chevalier, hates interacting with people. Even before he was chosen, he famously only socialized when absolutely necessary. This makes it strange to see servants with Chevalier’s personal White Tiger crest, proclaiming them as his exclusive servants.

This is why Emma decides to question the one person whom she knows as his exclusive servant. Lucien, his long hair tied back, is walking behind her. He is Chevalier’s top spy, though now he is currently employed as her exclusive bodyguard. The white tiger pin catches the light on Lucien’s chest, proof of him being subordinate only to Chevalier.

All the princes have similar servants sporting their own personalized pins, though Chevalier notably has the second-fewest number of exclusive servants, with only Luke having fewer. At least, that’s what Clavis told Emma when he had been drinking.

Emma asks how long Lucien has served Chevalier, and he muses it’s been over a decade at this point. Emma asks if that means that Lucien has been serving Chevalier since he was a child, and Lucien readily agrees. Emma asks why Lucien decided to agree to be Chevalier’s personal servant.

She had thought that this would be a light chat, but Lucien comes to a stop, his face serious. Lucien tells her that he is a former assassin and met Chevalier when he was hired to kill the then-prince.

Sensing a story behind this, Emma asks how they went from assassin and target to servant and master. Lucien tells her that Chevalier just pays that well.

Also . . .

Lucien heard Chevalier’s dream. Emma thinks about this, recalling Chevalier telling her his ultimate goal is to unify the continent into a single country, and wonders if that was the dream Lucien followed.

Before she can ask Lucien about this dream, a plump man rushes up to her, interrupting them. Emma recognizes him as an earl from the southern region of Rhodolite. Lucien takes a polite step back from Emma, and she plasters a social smile on her face.

The earl hands Emma documents and asks her to deliver them to King Chevalier. Instead of immediately obeying him, Emma decides to read through the contents first.

This is one of her unofficial duties in the palace. Chevalier is still a frightening figure to most of the aristocracy, so they all find it easier to go through Emma and have her act as an intermediary. Before she became his fiancé, this was one of Clavis’ duties. She is happy with the responsibility and the trust Chevalier has placed in her – he has given her permission to deny any documents that are inadequate or decide if they are necessary for him to review.

Emma finds errors in the document and helpfully points them out to the earl, handing them back to him. The earl is not pleased by this and tells Emma that he isn’t requesting her to review them, he’s simply requesting that she present them to the king. If King Chevalier finds it inadequate, he will accept it and fix the documents then.

The Earl’s response isn’t all that unusual. He’s fine using her to deliver documents and messages to Chevalier, but his pride is hurt at the thought of a commoner correcting him. It’s somewhat of a daily occurrence for nobles to dismiss her ability to read and review documents and insist that she simply hand whatever they give her directly to Chevalier.

Emma reminds the earl that reviewing documents before Chevalier is one of her duties, appointed to her by Chevalier himself. And that duty includes not handing error-ridden documents to him. The earl doesn’t believe that Chevalier would really trust some commoner to review important documents, and would really like Emma to leave the decisions to Chevalier.

Directly behind Emma, a new voice asks what the earl means by ‘leaving the decision to him’? The Earl visibly withers and his complexion goes pale. Before Emma can turn around to check for herself, arms are wrapped around her waist and she in enveloped in the scent of roses.

Chevalier tells the earl that he has his undivided attention, so go ahead and say what he wants to say. The earl demurs that it’s really nothing that important, but that doesn’t help his situation. Chevalier asks why the earl thinks ‘nothing important’ is worth bothering his woman.

The cold air turns deadly with Chevalier’s obvious anger.

Any composure the earl had before is gone as he trembles before them.

Emma brightly greets Chevalier, happy to meet him. She hopes she can turn this tense atmosphere into something less terrifying. Chevalier’s ice blue eyes turn from the Earl to her. Undaunted, she asks if his meeting has finished. Chevalier complains that 80% of the meeting was a waste due to the old guard who are still stuck in the past. That faction is something he is going to have to handle soon. Chevalier’s gaze pointedly returns to the earl.

The earl, pale and trembling, takes advantage of the gap Emma gave him and bows, leaving. Audible only to her, Chevalier clicks his tongue in annoyance. When she turns to face Chevalier directly, he kisses her with an all too innocent expression on his face. He does complain that there are more and more people who don’t know their place.

Emma surmises that Chevalier already knows everything she has been putting up with. She hasn’t said anything to him, but she can guess that Lucien must have reported these encounters to him. Emma tells Chevalier that it can’t be helped, she is in a strange position of being both below and above them in social status.

Chevalier is not pleased with Emma’s acceptance of the situation, as it lowers herself. Emma has to admit that Chevalier has a good point, letting it go won’t make people like the earl disappear. She promises Chevalier that she will do her best to handle the situations better.

Chevalier thinks that he can give her some help as well. The corner of his mouth lifts into a dangerous smile and he tells Lucien to gather the members of the foreign policy faction in his office.

Later

In the rose garden, Emma, Nokto and Clavis are stunned to immobility. Luke pokes at them, asking how long they’re planning on just standing there? Emma tells him to give them a moment, they’re treading strange waters.

Clavis wonders if this is all some sort of dream. Luke tells him that this is really real. Nokto reminds Luke that Chevalier absolutely hates socializing with people, and so everything they thought they thought they knew has just been flipped on its head.

Chevalier is hosting a garden party.

The castle’s rose garden is famous for having the most beautiful roses blooming in all of Rhodolite, which makes it the perfect place for the most influential aristocrats in the country to gather. And it was going very well.

Clavis had arranged the refreshments, and for some reason, everyone seemed to be enjoying them. The orchestra had been arranged by Nokto and was playing very pleasant music.

Aristocratic garden parties had often been hosted by the Kings of Rhodolite, but this one was significant for being the first one Chevalier has ever hosted, even after being crowned king.

Next to Emma, Nokto is still shaking his head, wondering if this is all real. He admits that he feels like he has been in some sort of dream since the day Chevalier announced that he was going to host a garden party. Clavis nods, he completely understands what Nokto means. Clavis calls out to Luke, telling him to hit Nokto as hard as he can.

Luke is just happy to help out his big brothers.

As Nokto begs Luke not to hit him for real, Emma considers the circumstances. Why did Chevalier spontaneously decide to throw a party? The fact that it is being held in the gardens she loves makes her heart throb uncomfortably.

Besides all of that, where exactly is their host? Chevalier had sent her a message that he was running a little late, but he’s gone from being fashionably late to just being late. As she looks around the venue for Chevalier, Clavis laughs, asking if she’s already lonely without Chevalier. Emma admits that she is, and Clavis asks if she’s been paying attention to Chevalier at all. He’s not going to materialize in the middle of the party, he’s going to make his entrance in his favorite way.

Chevalier is going to sneak up behind Emma and hug her from behind.

Emma whirls to look behind her, but there is no Chevalier. Clavis begins laughing at her, and frustrated, Emma turns back to Clavis.

Chevalier is standing directly behind Clavis.

Before she can react, Chevalier reaches out and flicks Clavis on the forehead, hard enough that she can hear it, and she winces in sympathy. Clavis moans that Chevalier definitely broke something.

Chevalier tells Clavis that if he has enough time to have silly conversations, he has enough time to socialize. Emma looks at Clavis in concern, he’s clutching his head, obviously hurt. Chevalier tells her not to worry, Clavis has a very thick head.

Speaking of important things to do, Nokto wonders what Chevalier is up to that made him so late to his own party. Luke complains that everyone except himself is slacking off. Chevalier tells him that the main dish of the party is ready.

Miraculously recovering, Clavis relaxes with a grim determination. He admits that he thought it was strange for Chevalier to throw a party, but now he understands Chevalier’s purpose. This isn’t a party, it’s a public execution.

Looking around, Emma can see that only Clavis is able to understand Chevalier’s true meaning. She, and the other two princes look disturbed.

Chevalier explains that sometimes it’s easier if he deals with people himself, that way they can learn their real place in the world. He wraps an arm around Emma’s waist and whispers directly in her ear, asking if she wondered about what he was up to today. Her heart pounding, Emma nods and allows Chevalier to guide her forward, his arm still around her waist.

Everyone they pass bows their head to the host, the King of Rhodolite. Chevalier ignores them and instead goes to the refreshment table. Emma asks if it’s okay if he doesn’t talk to anyone, but Chevalier points out that he is talking to someone, right this instant.

There is an assortment of pastries made by the city’s best baker. Chevalier picks one up and with surprisingly clumsy fingers, presses it against Emma’s mouth. Emma accepts it, chewing and swallowing, marveling over how wonderful it tastes.

Chevalier picks up another pastry and begins stuffing it into Emma’s mouth again. He snorts at her expression, continuing to hand-feed her. Since they explicitly say that he’s very clumsy at this, I assume half of the food is on Emma’s face.

Alter!Keith would be proud. Gilbert would be jealous.

The party continues with Chevalier ignoring everyone who isn’t Emma. In between pastries, Emma is able to exchange a few scant words with the occasional noble, but that is all. She doesn’t really understand what is going on.

Eventually, Chevalier stops and asks if Emma enjoyed herself. She assures him that she did, and Chevalier tells her in that case, it’s now time for him to serve everyone the main dish. Emma wonders if he was trying to make her happy before he moved on to the next stage of his plan.

Flipping his cloak, Chevalier and Emma begin walking through the noble guests. Emma realizes that they’re heading toward the plump Earl from the other day. The Earl realizes this too and looks faint. He stutters a greeting and thanks Chevalier for granting him an audience. Chevalier interrupts him, he wants to continue their conversation from the other day. He was going to thank the Earl for taking care of his woman, but he scurried away like a pest before Chevalier could begin. The Earl gapes at him in confusion, and Chevalier elaborates, as a reward for insulting Emma he will personally solve the earldom’s problems.

Appearing out of nowhere, Lucien is suddenly next to Chevalier, holding something that looked like a document. Chevalier tells the Earl that there appears to be a discrepancy in his taxes and expenses, suggesting the Earl is embezzling the citizen’s tax money. The earl gibbers, trying to explain that the discrepancy is not that significant. Chevalier asks if this is him admitting that he is cheating and insulting the royal family?

When the earl can’t give him a satisfactory answer, Chevalier tells the earl that he is not a patient person. His solution is to remove the earl’s title, as he can’t imagine the earldom is governed well by someone so incompetent that they don’t know simple etiquette for speaking to the future queen.

Begging for forgiveness, the earl tries to clutch at Chevalier’s cape, but he is halted by the head of the foreign faction’s security, Cyran’s, sword to his throat. Cyran reminds the earl that he is speaking to the King.

Idly looking around, Chevalier notes that, like the earl, there are a lot of people present who don’t recall the etiquette due to the future queen. Most of the noble attendees avert their gaze from Chevalier’s.

One guest calls out to Chevalier, asking if this absolutely horrible assertion is true. How deplorable that the current generation is failing their rulers. He is one of the most influential nobles in Rhodolite, as well as one of the richest, who carries with him a terrifying presence. He is Chevalier’s maternal grandfather, the Marquis Michel.

Marquis Michel announces that he will not tolerate disrespect towards the future queen either and eyes his fellow guests. Chevalier thanks him, entrusting this task to his grandfather. He asks him to wash out all the mistakes of the past so they can all move forward.

Emma now understands what Clavis meant by this being a public execution.

After the garden party, Emma returns to her room, followed by Lucien. Chevalier remained behind to speak to his grandfather, so Emma takes the opportunity to talk to Lucien. She asks if he knew this would happen, and Lucien admits that he did.

Emma knows that Chevalier has been protecting her in the past, but after today, his protection has just become stronger. She doubts anyone would look down on her for being a commoner anymore. Chevalier cares about her dignity and does not tolerate acts that undermine her. His modus operendi is to eliminate all threats to her, including her status and sense of self-worth.

Emma is still amazed at how far Chevalier went for her, but Lucien disagrees. He knew this would happen someday, after all, Emma is the embodiment of Chevalier’s dream. It’s natural for him to cherish her as much as possible. This makes Emma come to an abrupt halt, with Lucien almost running into her.

Emma realizes that she and Lucien never finished their conversation from earlier. She asks Lucien to tell her about his and Chevalier’s past.

Sweet End

Lucien was often sent out to kill Chevalier and failed each time. Eventually, Lucien’s former employer had enough of his inability to kill Chevalier and sent a squad of assassins after him. At the time, it was very difficult to fight back, since Lucien had just been badly injured in a clash with Chevalier. All he could do back then was pray that he didn’t die, and he had come within a hair of dying anyways. His last memory was burying one of his colleagues before passing out and waking up in the castle infirmary.

Chevalier had rescued him. In fact, Lucien believes that Chevalier had known ahead of time that Lucien’s former employer was going to dispose of him.

*Flashback Time*

Lucien asks Chevalier why he saved him. Chevalier explains that he just happened to come across Lucien laying down on the ground. He asks if Lucien’s employer lost faith in him. When Lucien doesn’t respond, Chevalier tells Lucien that his former employer has left this world.

Lucien is the first person who has survived trying to kill Chevalier. Chevalier didn’t hold back, but Lucien was able to escape each time. And Chevalier doesn’t think that Lucien is afraid of him.

Now that his owner is dead, Lucien is essentially a free agent. But Chevalier senses that the life of a stray cat doesn’t suit Lucien. He offers to take care of Lucien.

*End Flashback*

From that day on, Lucien was given a collar by Chevalier, but even then, things weren’t smooth between them. Lucien has his own pride, and he had just been betrayed by his former employer. He couldn’t believe in Chevalier, so continued to work covertly against Chevalier. From his point of view, he wanted to find an owner worthy of him.

However, he couldn’t have moved against Chevalier at a worse time. Back then, when he had moved against Chevalier, Chevalier’s mother the Queen was at her worst.

*Flashback Time*

Lucien recalls a scene where the Queen is screaming at Chevalier, demanding that he get away from her. Chevalier doesn’t move or respond to her.

The Queen blames everything that has gone wrong in her life on him. Even though a maid is restraining her from outright attacking Chevalier, she continues to shout at him. She tells him to stay out of her sight, calling him a monster.

The Queen gets ahold of a vase and throws it at Chevalier, striking him. The maid sees blood from his wound and offers to retrieve the court doctor. Chevalier tells her not to worry, it’s just a cut. He asks his mother if she’s satisfied with this.

*End Flashback*

No one has told Emma anything resembling this story before. Even though she is only hearing it secondhand, it hurts her.

Lucien explains that it was a common occurrence between the two of them. Whenever the queen would see Chevalier, she would become hysterically distraught, with only Leticia, Clavis’ mother, holding her back.

Chevalier was very talented, even as a boy. Still, he could do nothing in front of his own mother.

Emma wonders if this is where Chevalier learned to separate his heart from his emotions. Which would mean that until he learned how to do that, his heart . . .

Lucien adds that something always puzzled him about those encounters. Even as a child, Chevalier could predict other’s actions, it would have been easy for him to avoid his mother. However, during that time, Chevalier would cross paths with the Queen quite regularly. And when they did encounter each other, no matter how much the Queen would scream and throw things at him, Chevalier never ended the encounter.

Lucien tells Emma that there is only one thing he wants from the person whom he serves. He doesn’t want to be betrayed. When he realized what was going on between Chevalier and his mother, Lucien stopped operating against Chevalier.

Emma realizes that what she loves about Chevalier is the same reason Lucien truly decided to serve him.

Unable to stand still, Emma returns to the rose garden. All the guests are gone, including the Marquis Michel, and Chevalier is by himself near the gazebo. She rushes over to him, and Chevalier asks if something is wrong. Instead of answering, Emma plunges herself into the scent of roses, wrapping her arms around a very surprised Chevalier.

She tells Chevalier that she just suddenly wanted to see him very badly. Awkwardly, Chevalier reminds her that she saw him plenty, just an hour or two earlier. He picks her up and settles her down on a nearby bench, kneeling in front of her. He asks Emma what Lucien told her.

Well, there’s no hiding anything from Chevalier. Ruefully, Emma tells him that Lucien told her the reason why he serves Chevalier.

Chevalier wrinkles his forehead and admits that he doesn’t know the reason. Emma asks if that is true, and Chevalier explains that when he rescued Lucien, he thought the other was on a covert mission, but one day out of the blue Lucien suddenly bowed his head and began obeying Chevalier. Chevalier personally didn’t care about his reasons, but it looks like it caught Emma’s interest.

Emma explains that Lucien noticed things that Chevalier tried to keep hidden. Briefly, she summarizes her and Lucien’s discussion.

Chevalier could have avoided his mother, or even left when he happened to run into her. However, even if she was screaming at him or throwing things at him, he wanted to see her. Because, like everyone else, Chevalier wanted to be loved by his mother. And, he refused to give up hope that one day he would see a glimmer of maternal love.

Chevalier scoffs at this, telling Emma that it was just a coincidence that he would encounter his mother. However, the string of coincidental meetings drove the Queen into a corner, and eventually just looking at him would make her have a mental breakdown. After that, he started shutting himself in his room, and the next time he saw her, it was at her funeral.

Emma recalls that Chevalier has an eidetic memory, which means that he can recall everything his mother did to him as if it happened yesterday. Of course, he can separate his emotions from his memory, so there is a good chance that they really don’t bother him. Still, they remain in his heart.

Chevalier notes that Emma has started crying and chides her for it. He kisses her cheeks as if trying to wipe up the trail of tears. Emma asks him to forgive her this weakness, as today is also when she discovered his childhood dream. She catches Chevalier’s face in her hands and kisses him, thinking about a boy who dreamed of love.

Chevalier tells her that he doubts anyone could call what he thought back then a ‘dream’, but if it makes her and Lucien happy he’ll let it stand. Chevalier’s dream is the same today as it was back then.

He wants to be loved.

Premium End

When Chevalier was young and studying in the library, he would often hear two people talking.

*Flashback time*

A young Clavis is showing off his new pit trap to his mother. She praises him, asking why he suddenly decided to make a pit trap, Clavis gleefully explains that it’s to trap Chevalier. Immediately, Leticia retracts her praise and begs him to fill the hole back in. She bribes him with sweets if he complies.

Clavis perks up at this, and Leticia promises that she’ll make him his absolute favorite sweets. Happily, Clavis begins to fill the pit trap back in as Leticia praises him for being a good and obedient son.

Chevalier remembers Leticia as the most motherly of the King’s consorts. Even though she was wounded in ways that the children didn’t understand, she never stopped smiling and loving Claivs.

Chevalier’s mother was almost the complete opposite of Leticia. Ever since the day Chevalier killed an assassin in front of her, the Queen had become mentally ill, and would throw things and shout at Chevalier. Eventually, due to her insanity, she died.

Unlike his brothers, Chevalier has never experienced the feeling of being loved. He never cared about it, which is why the Queen labeled him a ‘monster’.

But for some reason, his memory keeps on returning to Clavis and Leticia.

*End Flashback*

In the present, Marquis Michel approaches Chevalier, separating him from Emma. He is the former Queen’s father, and many nobles listen to him. Besides that, he is very politically influential and skilled with diplomacy.

Now that the matter with the party is done, the Marquis has real news for him, regarding Tanzanite, Acroite, and Ruby. Chevalier thanks him, thinking about the countermeasures he will need to put into place. Unfortunately, most of his available countermeasures depend on what Rhodolite’s neighboring countries will do, particularly one ruled by a dark-haired man with an eyepatch.

Marquis Michel changes the subject, asking about Chevalier’s sudden desire to hold a garden party. Chevalier complains that he wouldn’t have to if the nobles would just fall in line. Marquis Michel disagrees, even if no one said anything, he thinks Chevalier would still have needed to do something similar.

Out of everyone, Chevalier should know best what it is like to be a Queen who holds no favor with the King. He asks Chevalier if he was aware how the court treated his mother.

Chevalier admits that it wasn’t something he was interested in, so he never cared to look into it. The position of Queen is supposedly at the top of the court hierarchy, with only the King a rank higher. However, unlike Emma, the Queen was never shown favor by the king and did not have his protection. While Chevalier never saw it, doubtlessly the Queen would have been torn apart by the den of hyenas that was the court.

Marquis Michel muses that if the former King had shown favor to the Queen, things might have been different. Chevalier disagrees, even if the King loved the Queen, Chevalier would still have been born and destroyed the Queen’s sanity.

Marquis Michel disagrees; Chevalier was never the problem. It was all because the King refused to love the Queen, and because of that, she didn’t know how to love her son. If the King loved her, the Queen would have loved Chevalier.

If Chevalier was the same person who he was in the past, he would have dismissed the Marquis’ words as nonsense. However, now that he knows what it feels to be loved by Emma . . . he doubts he would have been able to love anyone without Emma’s love. Maybe it was the same for his mother.

Marquis Michel doesn’t mind cleaning up the dirt within the court, but he needs Chevalier’s help. He needs to host garden parties on a semi-regular basis and shower Emma with affection just like he did today. The Marquis doesn’t want anyone to go through what his daughter endured.

When the Marquis leaves, Chevalier takes a moment to reflect on his mother. Back then he had been childish and stupid and hadn’t done anything to change his mother’s situation because he didn’t care to notice what she was going through. He could have figured out something that would improve both their lives, but he refused to notice the important bits.

Just as he laughs at himself, he hears Emma approach him. Before he can finish asking her why she has returned, she practically jumps into his chest, explaining that she just suddenly missed him. Although an unexpected encounter, he figures out that Lucien must have told her something that made her want to see him.

Emma recalls her chat with Lucien, ending with Chevalier purposefully meeting his mother when he was younger. Chevalier is amazed at how much the subject of his mother is coming up these days.

Chevalier tells Emma that it was purely a coincidence that he would encounter his mother. Yes, he could have predicted when and where she would be, but that was too much effort for him. Though, now that he thinks about it, maybe deciding it was too much effort to avoid her was the same as wanting to see her.

He really was stupid as a child.

Chevalier tells Emma about how he eventually started avoiding his mother altogether, with the last time seeing her being at her funeral. Mentally, he thinks about what his grandfather said, and wonders if he could have changed things if he had just paid a little more attention.

Ugh, just thinking about it gives him goosebumps.

He realizes that Emma has started crying, and asks if hearing this story made her that sad. It’s been a while since he has seen her cry. Emma admits that she learned about his childhood dream, and Chevalier realizes that they have come to the same conclusion he has about why he would constantly cross paths with his mother.

Now, being older and wiser, he curses his actions as the childhood nonsense that they are.

He tells Emma that it doesn’t really count as a dream, but if it makes her and Lucien happy, Chevalier will go along with it. His so-called ‘dream’ is the same now as it was then.

To think how insane he is to want to be loved.

As much as he wants to deny it, the lasting memory of Clavis and Leticia is proof that Chevalier was once stupid and idealistic.

That memory doesn’t matter anymore. He has Emma, that’s enough for him.

No, if anything, it’s more than enough for him.

He licks the tears off of Emma’s face, and when he leans back, her face is reader than ever.

Oh no, this is bad. He can’t stand the idea of anyone seeing her flushed cheeks and the embarrassment in her gaze. With the garden party over, other people will enter the garden.

Chevalier stands with Emma in his arms and advances deeper into the garden. Emma is confused, and Chevalier explains that he has a good place to cry. Emma tells him that she isn’t crying anymore, and Chevalier assures her that he will make her cry.

The feelings she has towards child!Chevalier are pointless, that person is long gone. Instead, he wants her to focus on the present Chevalier, who is with her right now. Back then he was a beast who was loved by no one and could not love anyone in return.

He has no intention of ever letting go of Emma.

Epilogue

Several generations ago, in the depths of the castle rose garden, the King of Rhodolite created a secret garden for his rendezvous with the Queen. Due to its deteriorating state, it was restricted by a lock and key that are easy enough to get through if you know the trick.

The secret garden is unkempt and full of Ivy. The absolute minimum upkeep has been performed, so while overgrown, the area is not impossible for them to sit in. It’s far more cramped than the area they had been in previously for the garden party.

Chevalier wonders if Emma likes this area and thinks that it has been a long time since he last visited it. He sets her down on a free bench, sitting next to her.

Emma is entranced by the area, with the roses growing wild. They sit together silently, watching the roses. Eventually, Emma asks what Chevalier meant by promising to make her cry earlier. Chevalier asks if she wants him to make her cry.

If Chevalier continues to act indifferent, Emma probably will start crying again. The anticipation of her tears soaks into his body, circulating through his system like poison. He notes that Emma looks like she’s on the verge of tears, though she quickly disagrees. He notices that her gaze is off him, face turned to hide any evidence of tears from him.

Emma asks how Chevalier knows about this place, and he explains that it’s perfect for reading without being disturbed. Privately, he remembers coming here often when he was younger, using it to escape his childhood for a few precious moments.

He would come here after seeing his mother. He knew back then that he was a beast, and if he was to be imprisoned away, he would have liked this place to be his jail. From a different perspective, the walls and hedges were like prison walls, a perfect place to lock away a beast like him.

He decides that he will never share that thought with Emma.

Out loud, he tells her that he eventually stopped coming to this secret garden because it was too far away from court, and it became too troublesome for him to visit.

With a surprising insight, Emma guesses the original purpose of the garden, for clandestine meetings. Chevalier is impressed.

Emma wonders if Chevalier will be remembered in history as one of the kings who used this secret meeting place to woo his woman. Chevalier teases Emma back, saying that if he gets into a history book for that, her name will be right next to his. Privately he wonders if his love for Emma will be recorded in history books.

Chevalier realizes that Emma is staring at him and asks what she wants. Emma tells him that she just really loves it when he smiles.

Together with Emma, the place Chevalier originally thought of as a sweet prison is changing. Wrapped in the scent of roses so thick he could choke on them; he kisses Emma deeply. Lifting up the hem of her dress, Chevalier muses that rather than a prison, this place is becoming a secret meeting area just for them.

As Chevalier moves his hands, Emma begins crying from the sensation, tears flowing down her cheeks. Chevalier teases her on how easily she cries, and Emma blames him for this. He asks if she wants to stop, but Emma, with her face redder than any rose, shakes her head and grabs his cloak. When Emma comes undone in his hand, Chevalier kisses her deeply.

He brought Emma here so that she could calm down, but now he has made her worse. Emma tells him that it’s the same for her, she doesn’t want anyone else to see his expression right now either.

Chevalier is surprised and wonders what he looks like.

Maybe their love really will go down in history books.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #chevalier michel

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wxnheart · 1 year

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𝙰𝚙𝚎𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 - 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟏/𝟑)

He is radiant, exuding charisma, a beatific smile adorning his face. He serves faithfully, every world made a means to an end. For the glory of mankind. Just as he serves faithfully, so, too, do you, cheerfully beholden to His ethereal visage. You never see his smile lessen as time goes by, as he fails to capture your ador. You never see the cracks in his smile until it's too late and by then it speaks of death and destruction. He beckons you near for you would bear witness to His salvation.

Horus Lupercal

An enigma adorned with a sword and shield. That is his nature, culling the weak and the unwanted and eliminating foes. Underneath lurks a beast, waiting for its next target, waiting to strike again. Waiting to lay claim. You'd heard tales of the beast in the wilderness but when you laid eyes upon him, a monster made a man, cloaked in knightly splendor, did the stories ring true. It was a gaze that spoke words he never did, a gaze you tried to avoid to no avail. Hunting. Yes... he was hunting, adorned with a sword and shield. The beast in the wilderness, the monster made man, had found its next target and it was you.

Lion El'Jonson

He finds his muse amidst swirls of purple and reds. He finds his muse, perfection embodied, and he's never felt so complete before. Finally, someone who sees his pursuits for what they truly are. He goes to claim you, his beautiful muse, the one who will continue to inspire him and push his sons to achieve excellence and beyond. He comes to claim you... and you escape his grasp without remorse. Never has he felt so slighted before. How dare you.

Fulgrim

A light shining in the putrid darkness. That's how he sees you. Purity wading through a sea of filth. Pathetic. The night bears witness to his atrocity and the monster lurks closer with every kill. Every kill that is done in your name. He does not understand this pull towards you; he does not seek to understand it. All he knows (and sees) is untaintedness and he would rather the people burn than to see you corrupted. He looks down upon you from the smog, your guardian daemon, and in time, when the filth has been purged, will he make his presence known. In time, you will no longer fear the terror of death.

Konrad Curze

They all close ranks, surrounding you, never letting you get far. Nary a movement goes unnoticed, and you look into the abyss to find hundreds of eyes looking back. It is stifling this prison. Every man is made an enemy; you never know who is who. Are they free still or are they made in the image of their father, the master of subterfuge? Are their gazes theirs or his? It stifles you, this prison. Their eyes scare you. You stare in the mirror with fear and wonder if it's him you're seeing staring back.

Alpharius Omegon

Degradation is all he knows and all he sees. It was all that he was taught as the stench of filth filled his nostrils and clouded his vision. His breath labors on the precipice of death and rebirth and its rattle shakes you to your core. You held no love for the monster's beliefs, held no love for those who profess to follow him but he was undeterred as always. He would never submit so why did you? In time, he reasons, you will see the error of your ways. To become beholden to that rot—pathetic! In time you will see the degradation and uselessness of it all. The rattle of death will seek you out and refusal be damned, he will make you see as he does. You will reap what he has sown.

Mortarion

#cutie 𝓠.#warhammer 40k #horus lupercal #lion el'jonson #fulgrim #konrad curze #alpharius omegon #mortarion #yandere40k.#primarch #primarch x reader #these were the templates I'd written that became the basis for yandere40k.

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crossleggedonthebarstool · 2 months

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more of that megastar human demon fanfic,, written absolute sleep deprivation and not beta read (obvs)

i can’t keep to one tense for my life so yeah,, beware

english isn’t even my first language idk why i’m doing this to myself ToT

also please be nice to me i rarely write );

Finally done, [Starscream] stepped back. He’s never getting his deposit back now, he muses.

The summoning circle is gloriously perfect, if he may say so himself. When he’d come across that eerie book in the library, he hadn’t actually planned on ever going through with it. Then [Skyfire] had happened. And finals.

Perfect timing to try out a ridiculous demon summoning ritual. Gathering all of the required items had been suspiciously easy, as if the universe had only been waiting for [Starscream] to finally lose his marbles. The only tricky part had been in finding a safe way to inconspicuously draw enough blood without fainting. Still quickly managed though, by a genius like him.

[Starscream] picked up the book from the table where he’d put it down, never really shaking the cold shiver that would overcome him whenever touching it. Flipping through the pages until he could read out the incantation from the one he’d marked, [Starscream] took a deep breath.

No backing out now. Although he quite literally had cold feet. Latin had been one of his interests in high school, so the words rolled off his tongue easily. Something along the lines of ‘I summon thee, oh Great One, to me’ and a lot of gibberish about praising the being he was calling.

The red lines of the summoning circle began to glow ominously at some point but [Starscream] had become too immersed to care. When he finished with a quiet ‘So join me now, Great Megatron’, the light was so blinding he had to close his eyes.

As suddenly as the light had come, it was gone. What a bust. No demon, no nothing. [Starscream] sighed, turning to blow out the candles scattered around him and retrieve a cleaning rag and a bucket of soapy water to scrub the evidence of another one of his failures away. No sooner than his back was turned, he could feel that he wasn’t alone anymore.

Megatron had felt the pressure of someone acting out a long forgotten ritual the entire evening. It had soured his mood quite badly, knowing another snotty human would be demanding insane things from him soon. Can’t they summon a Djinn or something? Hell, even one of the birdbrains up top would probably jump at the opportunity to grant a human’s wishes.

As it was, he was annoyed and not at all curious to see what kind of flavor this human would be. Soundwave’s little beasts had pestered him about it as soon as their master had felt the first dregs of the familiar call, pleading for a bite when he inevitably brought “his” master downstairs. They could devour the fleshbag for all Megatron cared.

As soon as night fell on the dirtball planet, his summoner finished chanting, and Soundwave and he shared a quick briefing on the runnings while he was gone.

Then Megatron felt the dreaded pull up, and he was standing in a human house. Frag him.

#starscream #megastar #megatron #transformers #fanfic #fanfiction #anybody wanna beta #if i ever finish it #feedback appreciated #as always

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iisasarcasticlittleshite · 1 year

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Ticking Time Bomb (Fem!MCXBeel/Belphie)

This was requested by a friend of mine, and I figured I'd post it.

MC occasionally has a hell of a time on her period, and the brothers now have a protocol to make life as easy as possible <3

Fuzzy comfort fic with the twins, happy reading :)

One would think, that in the home of Seven Demon Lords, the little human would be the less frightening of the bunch, at least, to the naked eye.

On most days, one would be right to assume MC the most harmless of the bunch. Master of them all or not, she's not as quick to anger as Satan, or as sadistic as Lucifer.

Most days, she's the diplomatic eye of the storm, but every now and again, mother nature will turn their sweet human into a beast to rival Cerberus in ferocity.

It doesn't happen every month, sometimes, her bleeding will come and go and no one will be the wiser except for the occasional wince from the poor human. However, once in a while, their sweet human becomes an absolute demon.

It starts with a warning, her scowl in the mornings that doesn't lift no matter how much coffee or sweets she's handed. Nothing can make her smile before ten, and even then, it's an effort.

When this happens, the brothers all brace for impact, because they know none will be safe, except the two lucky exception.

The twins.

Beel and Belphie are the only two demons spared, not even Diavolo is safe from saying the wrong thing around MC when she's just downright miserable.

"MC, I seem to have misplaced those documents you sent me, would you be so kind as to fill them out again?"

Normally, Diavolo's request would be met with a quiet sigh at worst, perhaps a light-hearted eye-roll and a warning that she wouldn't be able to get it done so quickly.

On Death Week?

"I'm up to my ears in school work, find the old ones or get my deadlines extended." She snipped, not outwardly rude but...short tempered, in a tone that warns Diavolo that she's not in a giving mood.

"I, see." The prince casts Lucifer a pleading look, begging for help because he's got a habit of putting his foot in his mouth when it comes to MC during Death Week, six months ago, he'd received a glare so lethal it chilled his very bones.

The other brothers cast each other glances, Asmodeus pulled out his calendar, and winced, quietly confirming what many already knew.

Sadly, Lucifer didn't catch the warning soon enough, and planted his heavy foot firmly on the wafer thin ice of MC's patience.

"Watch your tone, MC, or you may find your deadlines shortened instead."

It would have been a poor choice of words at the best of times, MC never took well to Lucifer's "discipline", and it showed, as she fixed him with a look to melt the flesh from a shadow-hog's bones.

"I fucking dare you, Lucifer."

The eldest's eyes went wide, and his brothers' panicked (and Asmo's frantic waving of his DDD's calendar) soon reminds him.

Satan clears his throat, eyes darting to one of the only demons with the capacity to save them from the fury boiling under the human's skin.

She's doing her best, they know she is, she's still their beloved MC, and she'd grin and bear the pain and roiling hormones if they let her, but watching her struggle to make a coherent thought past whatever haze she's stuck in is downright painful.

Beel is quietly shuffling to his feet, Belphie close behind him, and as the sixth born offers his hand and a sweet smile, the tension in MC's shoulders melts.

Diavolo is already writing up excuses for three absences while Beel has quietly scooped up MC and carries her wordlessly out of the room, with Belphie holding open the door for him.

"She must be incredibly uncomfortable, for it to affect her so." Barbatos mused in their wake. "I'm glad I restocked the herbal tea she likes."

Lucifer nodded his agreement, still shaking off the glare his human sent him. Is this how his brothers feel?

As the meeting carried on in their wake, the twins got MC back to the House of Lamentation, and began the regular process of spoiling their human when she needed it most.

Beel set her on his bed first, placing the gentlest kiss to her forehead as he set her down.

"You don't need to do this every time." She muttered bashfully, hating that she can't make herself be normal at times like these, it's like her body conspires against her. "I can handle it."

Beel's big hands, roughened with callouses, cup her cheeks, lifting her chin so he can kiss her forehead again, his words a soft whisper against her skin. "We know you can."

"You shouldn't have to." Said Belphie, making his way to the bed with a set of her comfortable clothes that she always left in their room. "As fun as it would be to watch you bite Lucifer and Lord Diavolo's heads off. We are not going to sit and watch you struggle through the day when we can do something about it."

Beel pulled away, replaced by Belphie's knowing hands helping her out of her uniform while Beel left for the kitchen to get snacks.

Belphie's warm lips chased his hands over every new exposed patch of skin, kisses that raised gooseflesh down her arms long after he's replaced her uniform with soft cotton.

He changed himself, and slid into bed beside her, letting her settle however she was comfortable before curling around her, long fingers finding their way under her shirt to press warm palms to her lower belly.

"Does it hurt?" He asked softly, mindlessly tracing patterns over her skin. "Sometimes it doesn't, right?"

MC nodded, wondering if she's turned two of the Devildom's highest ranking demons into menstrual experts.

"It got worse the more I moved, my legs feel...treacherous."

One hand wandered away from her soft belly, down to her thigh, gently needing the plush skin beneath her shorts.

"How exactly does anyone expect you to function like this?" The seventh rasped, already half asleep, lazily snuggling into her back, breath tickling her neck in that gentle rhythm that lulled her tumultuous body into rest. Slowly, tight muscles began to unwind and release, toes uncurling as she pressed her back into his chest.

Still, she couldn't sleep, her fingers tangling and untangling the golden sheets until Beel tip-toed back into the room, arms completely laden with food that did not fit on the bedside table.

She smiled at the gentle giant as he held out two of her favourite snacks: one savoury, one sweet.

MC took her pick, and lifted her head so Beel could sit up beside her, his thigh serving as the perfect pillow.

He flicked on the TV, letting it drone on in the background as he occasionally fed her or Belphie from his own snack pile.

In these moments, MC could want for nothing, for when a cramp did strike her hard enough to make her breath hitch, Belphie was already rubbing away the pain, Beel's fingers stroking her hair to distract her as wave after wave rolled away.

She had nowhere to be, nothing to wish for but for her two sweet demons, lovingly dotting on her without judgement. They know she could handle herself just fine, they know she's done it her entire life, and she'll likely do it again, but for now, neither of them is willing to let her go through that pain alone.

#obey me x mc #obey me x female mc #obey me beel #obey me belphie #beel x mc x belphie #obey me twins x mc #beelzebub x mc x belphegor

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