#𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. (fantasy au ace)

[lost-soul-in-time]

Adrian had not been pleased, but not with Ace. His brother hadn't scolded him at all, in fact, he'd seemed very worried about him. Of course, he'd left almost as soon as he'd made sure his little brother was alive. But at least nobody important had been angry at Ace.

Father had taken time out of his busy schedule to dine with him, and although it had been silent and maybe a little awkward, Ace had still been really happy.

After everything had been said and done, he'd gone back to his solitude. Of course. And he noticed the guard rotation had increased, too. The family really didn't want anything else to happen to him. This also meant he wasn't allowed his occasional walks to the village. So it was a lot of reading, a lot of praying, and a lot of thinking about Oliver.

Ace is supposed to be reflecting, alone in the chapel, but all he can think about is his not-lord and the moments they shared. The kisses. He yearns so much for those moments. The feelings he had felt, more than the lack of fear. What a childish crush, he thinks, yearning for someone he had barely known and who he would never see again.

Oliver has been violent. More-so than usual.

When his hands feel like they lack any warmth, and that feeling has only increased every day, he beats a prisoner until hot blood spills over his tightly-wound fists. It’s usually the same people that come to his mind during these times. The King, the men who work for him, the corrupt Lords of the kingdom — one punch is dedicated to each one of them. Except there are new faces that have slipped into his violent head.

A useless envoy, a guard gripping pale skin too tightly, Adrian Graves, the man his men were supposed to bring to him that night. When the King is disposed of, the Graves family will be the first he’ll go after.

That was his plan, until one of them had managed to slip into his waking thoughts.

He’d sent one of the shadow-cloaked souls to blend into its surroundings and keep an eye on Ace — Adam, he’d learned afterwards, but it doesn’t sound right for the younger Lord. It sounds just as pretentious as his family members.

In nearly every dark corner, there lies a soul staring unwaveringly at the unbeknownst people of the house. It watches dinners occur, visits to chapels, worried siblings fretting over the other, moments of silent loneliness, and when the sun is no longer shining down on the world and its Master’s infatuated soul falls victim to slumber, it scurries back to Oliver and informs him of anything of interest. Just like the obedient, mindless things they were.

All he needed to know was he was alright.

On the third night of Oliver’s messy departure from his home, Ace would find a familiar dark black resting over his bed, the red of a rose tainted by the same hue which had taken his hand and pressed a lingering kiss to his knuckles not long ago. Not only a gift, but a silent reminder that he’d return, that sapphire blue invades his days in a way like never before.

It’s a reminder of the Villain’s presence, the deadly creature of a man who would break down each wall brick by brick if necessary to keep his promise.

Patience. All in good time.

[lost-soul-in-time]

Look at him. It’s like watching a wild animal acting on instinct, only knowing the basic knowledge of attacking immediately when threatened. His head tilts to the side and inspects him with a mixture of amusement and disdain. “Loyalty is a fickle thing. You speak of a family, and I’ve yet to see a trace of one in this prison you call a home.”

Oliver takes one step forward, not raising his sword but not relenting his grip just yet. “No, I see him wasting away with each day that passes without being given the opportunity to so much as choose his fate, how he’d like to live. He’s your pet, not your brother.”

Were they even aware of the sacrifices Ace has made for them? Before they instilled his mind with subjects of fear, what did his life look like? How had he wanted to live? Was their plan to keep him chained here until his untimely demise?

No. Oliver wouldn’t let them.

Standing tall and firmly planted to his spot, he gestures out towards Adrian with an uninterested gaze. “Go on then. Show me how you plan to protect him.”

Oliver could’ve smiled in amusement from his statement. He didn’t have the privilege? If only he knew just how much privilege he held and how he uses it.

“I know far more than you believe I do.” Something unreadable seeps into his voice. Oliver had sent the souls to keep a watchful eye on his light when he couldn’t be there to protect him during the day, and what they had to inform him over is what had led him here in the first place. Ace was a prisoner here. He’d be free with him.

“I believe the better question is,” Oliver steps deeper into the darkness of Adrian’s chambers when the binds keeping him stick evaporate from his body as quickly as smoke. “What will you do when Ace chooses to leave, and you’re finally left with the consequences of your actions?”

The Villain finally turns to face him once again. Watches his every movement, seeing what his hands reach for and if there’s a flicker of something behind that emotionless gaze. If there were space for any feeling, he wants it only to be suffering.

It’s what he deserves.

[lost-soul-in-time]

Dark Ace and Oliver 🥺 or or the Villain and the Prince?

I think the villain and his blossom deserve some attention <3

Who gets more jealous? 

Oh, most definitely Oliver. He’s possessive of Ace to an extent that could be concerning to the averagely sane person. He’ll let him roam freely as he likes, yes, but if he thinks you’re looking at him for a split second too long? You’re losing your head once Ace is out of sight.

Who is better at cheering the other up?

Oh, most definitely Ace. His sweet little blossom only has to hold his hand or walk into his arms to start cheering Oliver up from whatever funk he may be in. The work he does is difficult and hard, and when his own demons start gaining the better of him, he has his light to guide him through the darkness <3

Who will propose? 

Oliver will. He’ll prick the wedding rings right off of the dead bodies of the royals, get on his knees before him, and implore he receive even a speck of his affections daily for the rest of his life with him by his side.

Who is more likely to hurt the other?

Only time will tell…

[lost-soul-in-time]

Ace hums to himself, dark vines having spread much farther than his face, going to his neck and arm. He's too tired to care. He sways slightly in place, soothing himself. The bed is soft, but he still hasn't slept.

He's waiting for someone.

"Oh, there you are," he calls out softly, tired eyes barely glinting anymore, and yet still so full of joy. "I missed you. I was waiting for you."

“I promised I’d come back, did I not?”

It’s the first time Oliver doesn’t send one of the souls to bring Ace to him. The moon’s vast size is their only source of light as it enters through the window, casting shadows over his frame as he steps closer to his beloved.

“I wish you’d have gotten some rest, my love…” The villain kneels in front of him, his own cursed hand coming up to hold Ace’s own. He’s getting worse. His stone heart bleeds for his light the longer he suffers. He tried to reason with Adrian, but… well, that didn’t go well.

What he would’ve done to stay behind and watch him suffer from the wound he’d inflicted.

But he couldn’t. If they didn’t want to willingly accept his help, he would take matters into his own hands.

“I have wonderful news, my darling.” Oliver’s free hand comes up to cup his cheek, lips pressing themselves to his temple and smiling lightly against his skin. “You’re going to be staying with me, until you’ve been healed.”

Strands of hair are brushed away from Ace’s face, and in the darkness of the room, it’s impossible to tell how there’s something barricading the door. He couldn’t have anyone interrupting him.

“You can finally rest, my light, knowing you’ll awaken in the morning and you’ll be in my arms… just as you should be.”

“I promise… I will help you. No matter what it takes.”

[lost-soul-in-time]

🕯️ for the fantasy brothers uwu pls

Aaron:

‘How must it feel, to exist in your distorted mind of forgotten history and dying flames? What urge keeps your hollow body functioning, moving constantly on autopilot? I would want nothing more than to pick you apart, pull open the stitched flesh of your broken body and see for myself the dark energy which keeps you animated. But it would take time and patience for you to heal once again, both of which I don’t have.’

Ace:

‘How is it possible for such a bright and guileless heart to have persevered the life of a caged bird? Had you been waiting for me all along, awaiting the day someone would save you from your despair? You may have been taught to hide away, to never show your face to those who could potentially harm you, but I will give you the life of freedom you’ve always dreamed of with you by my side, for when others see you, they will know not to harm what belongs to the Villain.’

[lost-soul-in-time]

Ace smiles tiredly and opens his arms, begging Oliver for some affection.

“Oliver… my lord,” he mumbles, knowing that the man doesn’t respond to the title. Ace uses it almost as a term of endearment, like a little joke between just the two of them.

Despite being tired, the young lord does his best to stay awake. He wouldn’t want to miss a single second of the time he has with his—

“I wish you could court me,” he murmurs, almost deliriously. These words should do nothing but embarrass him, leaving him blushing and stuttering, but he is so tired. No energy to filter his thoughts. “I wish we could be wed.”

“My knight…” He sighs gently and leans into Oliver’s touch, closing his eyes. “Beloved…”

Even in his own exhaustion, Oliver would never say no to his darling light. Not when his outstretched arms were the gateway towards the only true peace he knows.

Leaning his sword far away from them and slipping off his gloves, he sits beside Ace in his bed before laying down beside him and bringing him to lay on his chest. One hand cups his cheek with a tenderness reserved solely for him as he leans down to press his lips to his temple, yet his words make something in him falter.

He would give anything in his power or his power entirely for the ability to court him publicly, to have the opportunity of stating clearly as day that Ace was his. Oliver would arrange the wedding he deserved and wanted. All he would have to do is create the image, and the villain would help him bring it to life.

He could do half of those things now.

“I could. We could, my darling.” Oliver answers gently, yet there’s something underneath his words; determination, and the need to keep him. “I would love nothing more than to court you. I would adore no other idea more than the prospect of calling you mine. You deserve anything your heart calls for.”

His thumb brushes over his cheek, and he leans down to brush their lips together, a feather-light touch that lasts briefly. “Stay here with me. Let me have the honor of waking up to your eyes in the morning, every morning.”

Oliver is not an easy person to live with, and he can’t always be good and kind and loving. There will be times where he’s cold and thoughtless and difficult to understand. But Ace… Ace deserved someone who would at least try, and for him, he would move mountains.

For him, he can be the loving man he deserves.

[lost-soul-in-time]

🐇 fantasy ace uwu

💀 fantasy aaron

Fantasy Aaron: how do you know what’s good for me? 🥊

MV!Oliver: that’s MY OPINION !! >:[

Fantasy Ace one morning in the future:

[lost-soul-in-time]

Ace falls asleep every night holding onto something he wants to show Oliver.

His family has not noticed how exhausted he's become, or if they have, they probably chalked it up to his condition. Staying awake each night and pushing through the days has left him drained, and his health has certainly not liked it.

But he wouldn't give it up for anything. His time with Oliver.

Tonight, he falls asleep with a red rose from his gardens and a book stolen from the family library's philosophy section. He can't wait to stay up all night with his— his—

Oliver has noticed the fatigue around Ace’s eyes grow with every visit, and yet he selfishly hasn’t been able to stay away.

He knows he’s not a good person. He knows he always has to have his way. Which meant he always needed to see him, not matter what. It could be for five minutes, just mere moments of seeing his light through the dark, and he’d be satisfied.

Tonight was different.

The temperature gradually drops around Ace’s room, and a dark presence returns. A clawed hand extends from out of the shadows and traces a sharp nail along one of the petals of the rose. The single petal darkens into something as dark as the shadows it lived in. The entity is pleased with the sight of life being tainted.

Instead of waking the soul, just as it had been doing every night, the warmth of the bed is momentarily replaced by a frigid abyss, hovering in the middle of a blinding bubble before warm arms replace his bedsheets and a solid body takes the place of his mattress.

“Rest, my sunshine…”

Oliver’s voice is a low whisper, one hand moving up to brush through soft blonde hair while the other soothingly rubs over his back. Gentle lips press themselves to his temple, humming contently as he savors the feeling of him.

“I’ll be here. Always.”

And that wasn’t something he said aimlessly. It was a promise. They could lock him away, silence him, shield him away from his eyes. But he would break every lock, coax out every thought and word, and bring him back out from behind the shield of armed men no matter what it took.

If bloodshed were necessary, then he wouldn’t bat an eye at it.

No one would take him. No one deserved him.

[lost-soul-in-time]

"I had a dream we were to be wed," Ace tells Oliver quietly, almost deliriously, after another sleepless night. "And we were both— we were both normal. No curses. Father was very pleased with the marriage, but I don't know why. I supposed he'd be happy to see me happy... that is a nice thought."

He laughs quietly and curls up on the bed, desperately trying to stay awake so he can spend even more time with his lover.

"Wouldn't that be wondrous?" He asks dreamily. "If that was our fate before— before—"

The young lord hums to himself before closing his eyes. "I'll never get married now. Father would never allow it."

Oliver and Ace, both of them wed.

The thought had never crossed his mind before, nor did he ever believe it would. Marriage was a binding guarantee for a relationship for fall apart. That's how he saw it, and how he's seen it unfold. None of the women in the palace formed a deep connection with his Father, and that included his mother. They were all simply there to look nice when he decided to bestow them his attention.

Ace's Father had been pleased with the union. In a life of no curses, he can think of a reason why. Would he have ever taken him in so officially? How different would he have been as Prince of the Kingdom? Perhaps then, it would've been easier to make a difference and to avoid the pain the future had to hold for him. For the both of them.

"It would be wonderful, my light." He muses, one hand in his hair and the other around his waist, keeping him close. "... I'll give you a beautiful ceremony one day. Something as true and stunning as you. You have my word."

He had no ring, not yet. He won't do something as important as propose until he's healed him.

And he would heal him. No matter the cost.

[lost-soul-in-time]

Fantasy Ace or dark Ace for the blorbo bingo? 🥺

Fantasy Ace:

Dark Ace:

One of them is my precious little blossom and the other is a beautiful nasty menace to society /pos

[lost-soul-in-time]

👀 And also he wants to get railed into the mattress.

Well that's certainly something that could be arranged. Ace would look so beautiful laid beneath him, skin flushed a deep red and consumed by the unfamiliar want to be touched by him, and only him.

Ace would make the prettiest little toy...

[lost-soul-in-time]

Ace is incredibly tired. He can barely stay awake during the day anymore, but he must, between lessons and healers and other small responsibilities he still clings onto.

At night, he doesn't sleep, waits for Oliver to come to him, a flower or book always in hand. Every moment with his knight in shining armor is worth a thousand sleepless nights.

"I'm so happy when I'm with you," he tells the man one night, words slurring together as he tries his best to stay upright and not fall asleep. He wants to stay with Oliver. He makes him feel safe. Wanted.

Oliver had taken him to the library that night. With two floors of books which extended far enough to store thousands of genres, he'd collected every romance book that had caught Ace’s eye. Or at least, that had gone on for a bit before he’d noticed the distant look in his gaze and the way he struggled to stay awake. It didn’t take a genius to know he was exhausted.

He’s been selfish, and yet he didn’t know any other way to keep seeing him. For now, at least, this was his only way of getting to hold him.

Even with this in mind, he finds himself placing the small stack of books on the nearest table and making his way back over to the tired soul. He’s long since grown comfortable enough to strip away the gloves, bare and pitch black hands raising up to cup his face. His own holds a conflicted flurry of emotion only available to Ace.

Fear. Anger, not directed at him. Pain.

Sighing deeply, Oliver rests his forehead against his own for a moment. “Forgive me…” He whispers, a soft press of his lips against the corner of Ace’s mouth the only thing he feels before he’s being hoisted up bridal-style into the villain’s arms.

It’s getting worse. Both curses fight against the other every single night they’re together, but it’s usually dim enough to ignore. Now it’s nearly impossible to hold him without feeling what’s got its clutches on his light. He has to take a breath so he doesn’t accidentally hold onto his darling tighter.

He had to get better. He had to keep seeing him. Yet he couldn’t have both… or perhaps he could, but that would require a tiring amount of time, effort, and truths being revealed. Oliver had sworn nothing was too grand a task when it came to Ace, and with a newfound determination, they make their way back to his room for closely-inspected rest.

Wants and needs are quite different.

He needs to speak to his family personally. He wants to keep Ace here.

[lost-soul-in-time]

👀 Ace tries his best not to have dirty thoughts, per se, but his thoughts about Oliver are not the most innocent, either. He wants the man to... to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him. Sacrilegious.

He wants to stay near him, to make him smile more, as much as he can. Ace doesn't know anything about the man, not really, but he wants to make his life better. Perhaps it's misguided arrogance, thinking something like him can make anything better, but he wants to try.

That… is not what he expected to hear.

“Don’t try to lie in an attempt to appease me.” Of course it’s a form of deception. How could it not be? Something like him would never receive anything of the sort by a willing participant. A kind presence, a want to make him smile? They’re all things he’s undeserving of.

…But oh, wouldn’t that be nice? Having someone to hold, not in a death grip but in an adoring embrace, and what about someone to kiss? Ace, the sweetest of souls and the purest of hearts, wanted him to kiss him. Something in him would want to contradict the naturally rough touch his hands possessed in exchange for something else. He’d hold him gently, a hand around his waist and the other holding his cheek as he savored the feel and taste of him.

But that would never happen. Ace didn’t want him, he wanted the man he believed he was.

[lost-soul-in-time]

first thing fantasy ace noticed about oliver were his hands. he knows when someone is hiding something behind clothes.

Oliver’s already uncomfortable in his own skin. He didn’t need anyone else to point out the damage he hides beneath any layer, that much is obvious as he glares in your direction.

“I have no need to hide any part of myself. I have no idea what you’re blabbering on about.”

Liar, he hears in his mind. The reason he’s reached such power in the first place is because of how much he hides. Not just physical aspects, but so much of who he is remains hidden and locked away firmly in his chest. There’s even a possibility that he’s forgotten entirely who he once was.

He doesn’t like how you’ve made him feel. It’s best if you leave while you still can. Oliver believes your head would look much better on a silver platter.

[lost-soul-in-time]

eavesdrop Please i am so unwell i need it for both twins

Aaron

“He’s useful. That’s all.”

His servant’s existence was something that was beyond words, and not positively. Aaron was a reminder of the cruelty that existed in the world, and he was a vexatious element of his life.

Even so, he hasn’t sliced his head off for some odd reason. Something makes him keep him around the palace. He’ll blame it on both of their dark energies dangerously intertwining with each other. He will admit one thing, however.

“I would say… we’re perilously alike.”

Ace

“Ace is… I’ve never met a single soul like him.”

Since the moment he’d stepped into the castle, Oliver’s felt his life take a turn. Either for the better or for worse didn’t matter, it just did. Ace was evidence of who and what he was fighting for. His entire existence should be unheard of, someone so caring and kind that they’d do anything to please those they care for before taking time for themselves, and yet here he was.

Ace made him happy. He hasn’t felt that in a long time, and nothing would take him from him.

“Everything about him is beautiful. I want to give him everything he could ever want, because that’s what he deserves… he— he deserves someone good.”

Oliver is not good. But he can pretend to be. For him.

[lost-soul-in-time]

Oliver’s hand on his sword tightens at the sight of the the grip bordering on being too tightly secured on Ace’s arm, and although his sword is sheathed, it almost seems like the shadows in their surroundings drift towards the weapon and it’s owner—

“Sire.” Aldo says to him in a warning, lightly shaking his head when he can tell something very unpleasant is boiling over in him. While his guard always kept him restrained and composed when the situation called for it, he knew better than to think Oliver wasn’t already remembering every detail he could about the man who’d grabbed Ace, if the tightness in his jaw was anything to go by.

Perhaps he couldn’t hurt the guard, but he could definitely stop the irritating mouth on the envoy from saying another inane word.

Oliver watches as the man’s mouth snaps shut the minute it opens, a dark shadow passing over his face so quickly it could’ve been passed off as the sun being concealed by drifting clouds. But if they knew better, they would know it was him, they would know their welcome wasn’t one he liked.

He delights in the sound of teeth clanking and the view he receives of lips pressing so tightly together it’s as if they’ve been sewn such or glued. “I’ll see you soon, dear.” Oliver gives one final, pleased farewell to Ace before gesturing for Aldo to follow him, who gives an apologetic look on behalf of his Lord before mounting back onto their horses.

I’d like that. That’s all he needed to hear.

“Busy…” Oliver repeats, tone and expression giving away exactly what he thinks of such a statement. Ridiculous, the statement and the man in front of him. The sputtering he’d previously displayed pleases him however, not giving it away on his face but very much relishing in it.

His hands are forced to fall away when Ace steps forward, and one of them lands on the pommel of his sword. To Aldo, it’s a simple place to rest his hand and nothing more. To everyone else, it’s just another way to display the cursed weapon and its owner. The tight formation and agitation they display only earns an unamused tilt of his head.

“Hm.” Oliver hums thoughtfully, glancing over to Aldo and gesturing over to him with a nod. The guard looks between the men pointing their swords at him and gradually lowers his hands, clearly not happy with the position they’d forced him into as he cautiously makes his way back over to his Lord.

“Then I suppose I’ll return another day.” Oliver smiles over in Ace’s direction, and Aldo shifts uncomfortably at the sight. It’s a kind gesture to Ace, but it’s more than just that to the already annoyed formation of men. It’s a threat, a reminder that they haven’t seen the last of him.

Raising the young lord’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles the same way he had at the palace, Oliver hopes the envoy and everyone else seethe in it.