#(old man voice) back when i was young and a tumblr user we had none of this 'functional website' bullshit

[gorespawn]

oh right, i changed main accs like last year and transferred this side blog, but never got back into using it! so now i don't follow a single account </3 so if we used to be mutuals (or if you'd like to be!) could you please reply to this or interact somehow...? i've missed being here

[spumonibones]

Chasing Wings: Memoria Chapter 12

Pairing: Xiao x Venti

First Chapter (Ao3)* ; First Chapter (Tumblr)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Lore/Story Notes

Chapter CW: None

Update Schedule: Every Wednesday

Ao3 chapters are currently locked due to a shady site creating issues. Registered users can still read, but chapters will be posted on Tumblr for those who don't. : )

Canon Divergence AU; Other Four Yaksha Still Live; Zhongli already retired but Osial hasn't happened; Canon Typical Violence

Summary:"To Err is Human, to Forget is Godly."Almost 500 years ago, the Cataclysm happened. As the fires and monsters dwindled, most of the Seven had fallen. One, Barbatos, simply disappeared - and in his absence, the mourning songs of Dvalin would serenade the land of wind each yearly anniversary. The surviving Archons presumed him dead, and Monstadt presumed he simply never was.Then one day, before a Traveler will fish Teyvat's Best Guide from its waters, a young man named Venti is rescued by the Vigilant Yaksha. Without memory a face as familiar as it is foreign, the question then becomes... What path can one take, when new memories meet old?

***

If your words are true, and you two will part ways… You will regret not trying. And being what we are, that is a very… Very long time to regret, Menogias’ words echoed around in Xiao's head. He was sitting on the edge of a small rock formation, watching Venti's aim transform into Anemo and perfection. The yaksha took the two to Jueyan Karst, a location he was more frequently taking the pair to. Venti's progression kept getting more advanced and harder to hide, making the secluded area safest. Xiao was starting to wonder what the point in ‘training’ Venti was. Almost as soon as the yaksha taught him something, the bard was mastering it. 

Xiao suspected all he was really doing, was helping unlock skills that Venti already had but simply couldn't recall. How much longer until Venti asked to move on, to do something else? Far as Xiao could tell, he was boring. Not even a good audience. What could Venti possibly want to do with him outside of what was mandatory? Menogias said to ‘woo’ Venti, but Xiao didn't even know what to say to the bard! All he could do was observe the other as his duty, while playing out countless scenarios that ended with either Venti becoming uncomfortable, or simply laughing at the yaksha. Xiao just couldn't fathom it ending any other way, try as he might. 

The worst ones were when Venti became frightened of him, could see the blood that covered Xiao's hands and stained his very being. 

“Hah! Three perfect hits in a row!” Venti cheered, pausing his shots to look over at Xiao. Not sure what to say or how to say it, the yaksha simply gave an approving nod. That seemed to be what the bard wanted, as his grin widened and he went back to practicing his shots. 

What could Xiao say? You smell nice when you're sober, the thought was immediately dismissed. No, insulting Venti's vices wasn't right. You have a pretty smile, sounded like something a creep would say far as Xiao was concerned. He didn't want to come across as creepy. I love listening to your voice, was probably one of those compliments Venti heard so often he wouldn't even register it anymore. A sigh left him, eyes drooping slightly. Living with so little karmic debt weighing over him made his spirit feel lighter, but also allowed the range of emotions he recognized feeling much bigger.

Perhaps having a ‘sweetheart’ in the past wasn't an issue because he couldn't feel it. Too buried in the pain to notice the happiness that tried to sprout.

“You okay?” Venti asked, much closer than Xiao recalled him being. More on instinct, the yaksha teleported away, polearm in hand before he realized who and what he had reacted to. Still standing on one of the rock formations next to where Xiao had been sitting was Venti, no signs of alarm that the yaksha suddenly had a weapon in his hand. Just a sheepish, apologetic smile. “Sorry. I shouldn't have startled you.”

“...It's fine.” Xiao mumbled, putting his polearm away and returning to his spot. “Are you ready for the next lesson?”

“No, I was just a bit worried. You're usually more,” Venti paused, considering how he wanted to word this, “attentive? I wasn't certain, so I did fib a little,” he held two fingers close together to emphasize how small his lie was, “and actually hit four in a row.”

Ah. He was testing if I was paying attention, Xiao realized too belatedly. “I'm sorry.” The words felt lame on his tongue, but he wasn't sure what else to say. As the bard’s mentor, he should have been watching the other. Not letting his fantasies and fears get the best of him. 

“It's no biggie.” Venti assured him, waving that aspect aside. “But I am worried about you. I asked if you're okay, and you dodged the question. I was worried maybe it was the filth-”

“Karmic debt.  Filth is something different.” Xiao corrected, trying to suppress the way his body wanted to react to the mix-up.

“Sorry.” Venti apologized again. The yaksha hadn't hid it well-enough. 

“It's not that. I'm fine.” Xiao was settling, finding the neutrality he normally spoke with at length. 

“You're just distracted?” Venti pressed, one of his brows raised while he tilted his head slightly. The yaksha wasn't sure how to respond. Denying it would have been an obvious lie, given the bard tactfully caught him being distracted. But admitting to it also invited the other to ask what was going on. Xiao was not going to answer that. 

“Thinking about what the other yaksha said.” There. That confirmed without confirming, it was true, and allowed a safe confidentiality.

“Ah.” Venti nodded, seemingly satisfied. Climbing onto the same formation as Xiao, he scooted against the other's body so their arms touched as they sat side by side. Xiao's entire body tensed, something the bard chose to ignore. He simply pulled out his flute, fingers running over the holes thoughtfully. “Think all you want. I'll give you music while you do.” He said, beaming at Xiao as if it were the most natural thing he could do.

The yaksha looked away, refusing to give himself the opportunity to stare. Gloved hands clutched at the rock he sat upon, trying to keep his heart steady as the flute began its song. What was the bard doing? Xiao wasn't a proper audience for something so beautiful. He wasn't even a mortal, let alone someone capable of showering him in praise or… Anything. Despite those thoughts, he still found himself listening and losing himself to the tune. Finding a familiarity in the moment.

As these moments often did, they ended far too quickly by a cry for help. Naturally Liyue was silent when Xiao needed an escape. But if he was enjoying peace with Venti? Some human decided to touch a bubbling, smoking flower that had petals for teeth. 

Because curiosity, or something.

In the past, Xiao believed his karmic debt was only the physical and emotional pain constantly wracking him. Lately, he wondered if there was a piece of the karma that could never be cleansed, that he would always have to pay for his actions with bad timing. Trying to not let his annoyance show, he teleported to the cry for help to deal with the problem. On instinct, or perhaps something else, brought the bard along without thinking. As Xiao set about his work, Venti scurried to the side more to avoid getting scolded than anything else. If the bard wanted to, he was equipped and capable of doing so… But the times he had tried, Xiao had scowled about how it, “wasn’t Venti’s duty.” Bringing the bard along was a dangerous habit that he needed to stop, but always realized after instead of before. Making quick work of the creature, he let out a long breath. Followed by an annoyed huff, as the human started babbling on about gratitude or something instead of just leaving.

“Please, Mr. Adeptus! I promise, I'll do more than help you rest if you'll accompany me to bed.” The man pressed, not discouraged at all in spite of the yaksha keeping distance between them. Another successful rescue, another human with their weird nonsense. Venti continued to try and keep his laughter subdued, to let this continue unfolding. Eyeing the mortal with a frown, Xiao shook his head. 

“I don't need sleep.” Xiao informed him simply, continuing to watch the man the same way one would watch a strange-looking insect. Neither curious nor disgusted, just unclear what it is or what to do with it. “Travel safe.” With that, Xiao returned back to Venti.

 Once more, the adeptus was none the wiser he was being flirted with. Again. “Why are you laughing?” Xiao asked, voice gruff and tinged with irritation. Why was it almost every time Venti was around when Xiao saved someone, the yaksha came back to his laughter? What was so funny?

“Sorry!” Venti continued to chuckle, eyes alight with amusement. “You just… Never notice how many people hit on you. As in are trying to seduce you, not fight you.” The bard clarified, just in case. When someone was that dense when it came to romantic affairs, it seemed prudent to be clear as possible. That garnered him a frown. 

“They're expressing gratitude. One mustn't conflate kindness with romantic intent.” Xiao thought he was being informative, but Venti continued to smile. The only change was he raised a single, amused brow. “What?”

“I know the difference between being nice and being flirty. Someone you don't know,  inviting you into their bed to thank you for your deeds… Think about it. He didn't say anything about sleeping. In fact, he insinuated… ‘Activities.’” The bard typically listened, and asked questions. Was more focused on understanding the world than much else. This was not what was happening, and the more Venti talked the less Xiao found he cared for this particular subject. 

“I'm dangerous to humans. They have no reason to be interested in me. There has only been polite gratitude.” To an extent, Xiao was aware he wasn't just trying to convince Venti at this point.

“First, being dangerous doesn't discourage humans. In fact, some of them are attracted to that danger.” Venti started, not pausing even when Xiao's brows furrowed in disapproval. “Second, whether they’re flirting or not, there's always genuine gratitude. I haven't seen anyone giving ‘polite’ or obligational thanks. Liyue is fond of you. Third… You're really great, Xiao. People aren't just flirting with you for kicks, they're doing it because you're cute and you're kind.” The bard said it so casually, not a doubt in his mind about the validity of his words. 

Xiao's ears went red, the yaksha turning away with a grumble. Venti's grin only widened, because the other was adorable every time he got flustered. “If what you say is true… Have you been flirting with me?” The question wasn't accusatory. The way Venti heard it was a passing curiosity. Based on what he understood about the yaksha, Xiao was just trying to make sense of new information. To better identify what to look for in the future, because it made sense to educate himself. 

Fixating on what he knew of the yaksha, he missed the subtle hope that had been in Xiao's voice when he asked. 

“No, you don't have to worry about that!” Venti said hurriedly, trying to be as assuring in his words as he could. “I wouldn't put you in an awkward position like that.” He continued, offering his most sincere smile. Unbeknownst to him, that had been the opposite of what the yaksha hoped to hear. 

Xiao thought over how to reply to that. As he did so, he collected Venti once more and teleported the pair away. Back to Huaguang Stone Forest, a healthy distance from prying human eyes. If Venti wanted to test out his wings once again, there was plenty of space. Cloud Retainer was even within distance to recruit for help, if she wasn't too invested in whatever gadget she was developing. On top of one of the many high rising formations, Xiao's brows remained low in thought. 

The way it sounded, it was as if Venti wouldn't ever flirt based solely on what he perceived to be Xiao's preference. Did that mean…? He glanced briefly at Venti, who was watching him curiously but patiently. Xiao let out a scowl, and set the bard down to stand on his own. 

When was the last time Xiao felt his heart flutter at the sight of someone? A long time. Too long. Last time, he hadn't spoken up. They had been none the wiser. This time… Venti wasn't affected by his karma. Made the air around him calm, the heaviness that always hung over the yaksha fade away. Rolling his shoulders, he decided it wouldn't hurt to try. “How do you… Know if someone is flirting with you?”

“...This is bothering you, isn't it?” Venti asked, laughing softly. With a hum, he scratched the side of his face thoughtfully. “I think… That Mr. Zhongli might be better apt at teaching you that.”

“...The Funeral Parlor Consultant.” The pause wasn't just because getting recommended to a funeral for flirting advice was a strange one. It was also because Xiao was trying to remember what Zhongli was supposed to be. If Venti wasn’t Barbatos, he couldn't be permitted to know who Zhongli once was. 

“That's him!” Venti chirped, pleased to hear that yaksha knew with whom he referred. 

“Why?” Xiao normally didn't care enough to ask, but this could be a lead. If Venti intuitively knew, then that meant…

There was an ache in his chest. Xiao frowned, the conflicting needs creating unfamiliar trouble within. If Venti was Barbatos, then perhaps Zhongli would smile again. Be happy to see he hadn't lost all of his old friends. But then, Xiao realized in his own way, he hoped Venti was just himself. Wasn't an Archon that would inevitably leave.

Wasn't the same person that gave Xiao such a sad smile that last time they met. 

“It's kind of his job, isn't it? He gives consultations on anything, not just funeral rites. Until you can do it on your own though, I'll be happy to point out every time someone does hit on you.” Venti's offer was kind, and his speech didn't give Xiao any reason to suspect the bard of hiding the truth.

He didn't say it directly, but Venti wasn't sure he'd be able to teach someone like Xiao that sort of thing. The yaksha was serious, and came across as the antithesis of romantic. Mentally, he scratched off his plan to offer classes teaching interested parties how to flirt with someone. Xiao would think him a hypocrite, and Venti already felt as if he toed the line between burden and somewhat respected. Idly, he wondered if maybe he shifted the subject to romancing someone, then maybe…? Should be different enough. 

***

***

Hours had long passed, Venti already returned to the inn and even finished with his music for the night. In an official capacity, that was. Outside the tavern, closer than he should have been, Xiao could hear the songs as Venti sang them. The skill in which the bard could keep clear tunes in spite of being inebriated had thus far been his greatest feat. In the brief respite of being alone, Xiao wasn't afraid to be impressed. There was no risk of a smug smile, curving into knowing green eyes that so easily saw through Xiao’s mask of indifference. No risk of the bard seeing more than what he was supposed to. 

The fact Venti was a master when it came to music and knew it, well, Xiao doubted he could express that in a way Venti hadn't heard a hundred times by now. 

There were some laughs inside, the singing paused as Venti joined in. Sighing, the adeptus reminded himself that this was inevitable. This was going to be the future, no matter how well or poorly he tried to ‘woo’ the bard. Xiao couldn't be close to humans, and Venti needed them as his audience. Needed a proper audience, that wasn't a single surly yaksha on a rock in the middle of mountains. The two would eventually go their separate ways to fill separate needs. Arms crossed over his chest, he wondered when that time would come. Judging by the liveliness inside, it was going to be sooner than later. The bard had already made great strides in taking care of himself, and wouldn't need a yaksha hovering over him. 

Not that Xiao had ever actually hovered. 

As his thoughts pulled him further down, an alarmed call of his name pulled him from his spiral. Without hesitation, Xiao disappeared in the deep blacks and greens of a smoke-like after image. Reaching forward, Venti fell into Xiao's arms with a delighted, drunken mix of giggles and snorts. The stench of alcohol burned Xiao's nostrils, the yaksha reactively flaring them as he tried to exhale the smell. Held securely but not too tightly, Venti easily threw his arms around Xiao's neck, legs kicking once to get more comfortable in the hold. The idea of simply dropping the bard didn't even occur to Xiao. 

The patrons inside gave an excited cheer, a few raising a toast. "To our Conquerer of Demons!" One of Venti's fellow drunks shouted. Tending to the bar, there was a rather sheepish employee of Wangshu Inn. Xiao narrowed his eyes at them. Had this been intentional? 

"Sorry, Sir Adeptus… I was trying to get him down, and then he tripped trying to dodge me." The employee explained, expression guilty. 

"He was right though!" Another in too many drunks said. Right about what?

With a sigh, Xiao braced himself to deal with the smell of wine that was on Venti's breath when he turned to face the other. Except the smell was far closer than it should have been, and Xiao's body froze as lips delivered a kiss to the side of his mouth. Yellow eyes widened, his pupils turning to slits in his surprise. The way his ears were burning, he knew they were red. With a slight wobble, Venti pulled away with a pout.

"You turned your head!" Venti slurred, understanding hitting Xiao all at once. My cheek… Venti had intended to kiss his cheek! If he hadn't moved his head… "Oh, did you want a kiss-kiss?" The bard asked, too far gone to notice how quickly he was flustering the yaksha holding him. "C'mere-" Venti, innocently or not Xiao was too panicked to care which it was, was trying to turn the adeptus' head back towards him for a 'kiss-kiss.' Felt his head turning, almost leaning into the guidance. Heart trying to hammer out of his chest, Xiao shoved Venti into the confused arms of Smiley Yanxiao who had just walked in to see why the yaksha was suddenly there and being celebrated.

"I-I've been here too long!" Xiao stammered, and the second he was free from the bard he teleported away from the inn, away from the person that made beautiful and terrible things bloom inside his chest. 

Standing there, drunk Venti in hands, Smiley Yanxiao looked at the bartender. The cook was perplexed and hoping for some answer. The bartender paid him no mind, his gaze locked on where the yaksha had been. Long ago the names of the yaksha became obscured with titles, namely to defend Liyue’s protectors from nosy outsiders. Namely, Sumeru's Akademiya. On some level, to also avoid drunks calling out for yaksha as Venti just had. Xiao showing up wasn't a surprise, the man had worked there long enough to know well what was going to happen. 

That's why the bartender tried to prevent it, without success. Knew he was going to get one Abyssal of a scolding from Verr Goldet when he talked to her about it. But also suspected he would need to tell her the one thing he hadn't expected of the yaksha.

Snapping to, turning to Smiley Yanxiao to ask him to take Venti back to his room, the bartender pondered how he was going to word this. “What was the Conqueror's name again?” One of the guests asked with a slur.

“Sorry, I think it was… Oh, what was it?” The bar tender faked pondering. 

“Oh, it was Chaoxiang… Chaoxiang!” Another drunk cheered, and soon the whole bar agreed that was what they heard. The bartender sighed, relief flooding him that Smiley Yanxiao hurriedly left the room before a drunk Venti could try to correct anyone. 

It was going to be a long night of him needing to wait before he could tell Verr Goldet their yaksha had, just for a moment, looked like he was ready to kiss that bard back. 

A conversation that happened in the early morning, all while Xiao paced at his perch and tried to not think too much about what happened. 

Xiao knew some drunks were simply flirty. Told himself that there was nothing more or deeper last night. But… As Xiao remembered, his ears turned red all over again. How warm Venti was against him, the feel of the bard’s lips pressed against his… Even if it was only the corner. Pressed a finger against the spot, his lips trembling as emotions overtook his body. The joy when it happened. The disappointment it meant nothing. The need for it to be again, but more centered, more reciprocated. The hurt that it wouldn't happen. 

The calm in understanding that last night, Venti probably was bragging that Xiao would show up if the bard called for him. If nothing else, Venti trusted Xiao wholly and fully. Taking in a shaky breath, he tried to get his heartbeat under control. To focus on what was, instead of what could be. And that was the fact that alcohol lowered inhibitions, to a point. If Venti was offering a ‘kiss-kiss,’ then maybe… Just maybe, there was a part of the bard that wanted it as much as Xiao did. Maybe. 

Let the little spark of hope bloom in his chest that there was a chance. 

For the time being, he needed to pass time until Venti was awake and moving. The bard slept in late, and Xiao knew he should be waking the other up sooner. But every time he tried, Venti just looked so… Safe and peaceful. It felt wrong distributing him. 

Deciding to put his focus on what he could even teach the other anymore, Xiao put his attention onto that. Tried to approach it the same way he had when asked to mentor Ganyu. With logic at the forefront, a focus on what Venti needed. As he did, Xiao's shoulders tensed. Flying… Venti had wings, and would inevitably need help with that. Maybe Cloud Retainer can, since she… Still has hers, it was a thought that he tried to not linger on. 

When the sun had reached the halfway point, he teleported into Venti's room. Appeared outside the window, lightly rapping on the wooden frame to see if he was allowed in. Human custom dictated that he always check, in case the person inside was in the nude. Something he learned with Ganyu the hard way, as he fled her room in confusion as she fired ice at him while screaming. It took Cloud Retainer to calm her down, equally as confused as a Xiao had been, about why Ganyu panicked. 

“He saw me naked!” Ganyu had said, tears in her eyes while her face was bright red. 

“One does not understand. One has seen you naked many times? Does One… Need to see the Conqueror of Demons nude to feel better?” Cloud Retainer asked. The words that left Ganyu's mouth were foreign and horrified. She looked to Xiao, sputtering. “How are you not embarrassed?”

“Oh, One understands now! Ganyu is shy about the shape of the form? But when you are so round, you are so cute…” And on Cloud Retainer went, Ganyu shifting from embarrassed to humiliated. At that point, Xiao quietly slipped away, deciding there was no training that day. He also decided that from then on, he would just knock instead of teleporting into the room. 

“Come on in!” Venti called out to him. Invite received, Xiao hopped through the window. Noted the feathers on the ground, hesitating in picking one up. “Could I… Make a request this time?” Venti sounded uncertain, and immediately Xiao steeled himself. The bard remembered last night, was upset, and now wanted to terminate the agreement. Xiao knew that coming. That was fine, he could handle that. “My back has been getting… Itchy. Itchier. Lately.” The bard began. 

Not upset? Xiao wondered, eyeing the bard. 

Venti was fiddling with his fingers, as if nervous over what he was about to ask. “I noticed you get weird about this, but I don't really know who else to ask. Should I be… Stretching them more? Is that why it's getting worse?”

One sign of karmic debt was something akin to an allergic reaction. Some forms were itchy rashes, and immediately Xiao was instructing the bard to remove his shirt in order for him to inspect. If they had been wrong this entire time, and Venti was becoming infected… Seeing the shift in demeanor from uncertain to urgency, Venti didn't hesitate. Removed his shirt, and let his wings unfurl to the best of his ability in the small, cramped room. 

Gloved fingers ghosted over Venti's back, creating goosebumps along the bard’s arm from the almost-contact. Behind him, there was a sigh of relief and he echoed. Whatever Xiao thought was the problem, was apparently not the case.

“Your wings are dirty.” Xiao observed, gold eyes flicking at white feathers with light stains from the outside.

“I can't exactly clean them in the public washroom.” Venti reminded with a laugh. “I don't even know how to clean them. Do I just… Find a puddle, and roll in it?”

“Do not do that.” Xiao sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, brows furrowing. He could… Maybe give the bard instructions? Venti was skilled at following any provided. Xiao trusted he could hear and easily follow directions. As for a place he could do any of it, the yaksha went over the places he knew.

“Oh! You could show me!” Venti said, excitement in his voice as he pulled his wings back in. Hurriedly he put his shirt back on, turning around to face the yaksha. Collecting the adepti's hands into his own, Venti beamed at the other. “If two people work together, we'll be finished in no time! You'll help me, please?” The bard ended with a hope-filled plea, eyes imploring Xiao for a yes. 

Xiao swallowed hard, his entire body tensing. Venti had no idea what he was asking of the yaksha. How could he? Venti didn't know that Xiao was, in essence, a type of bird. The sort that only preened the feathers of family or a mate. Venti of which was neither, but Xiao's heart longed for him to be the latter. 

He should explain. He needed to explain! But instead what left his mouth was: “A-All right.”

[selfproducingfanfictionauthor]

Lessons to Build - ii: you can’t outrun what is in you

Summary: Two years ago, you break off your 5-year long engagement with Min Yoongi of the Min family and ran off to New York. However, for people like you, running away has never been a lasting solution.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader / Taehyung x reader

Warnings: None for this chapter. Y/N comes home, we meet Yoongi but not MEET-MEET. Might make you root for Taehyung. Notes: Short chapters for quicker updates is my jam. This took a while because i wasn’t sure how I wanted to present Yoongi yet. But here it is. He may be “kind” but there are other things at play that affected (and will affect) his decisions. Same with Y/N. Also Tumblr won’t let me tag some users. :(( I hope you guys find this update! And thank you for the people finding this fic!  Word Count: 1.6k Prologue  Lesson I 

Home.

Home shouldn’t be something you have to run away from. And yet, the moment you booked your flight, fingers tapping away on your phone - your passport details, credit card, seat number - an undeniable weight has began to made its home on your shoulders. As encompassing as a blanket but as imprisoning as heavy sand.

“What do you mean you’re flying to Seoul? Now??”

Isn’t it funny how things change in less than 24 hours? In a blink of an eye?

Taehyung’s voice is shrill in the background as you toss clothes upon clothes over your shoulder, hopping they’d get at least near the perimeter of your open suitcase.

Around you is your life in disarray. At the back of your mind, you find it slightly disturbing how easily it could fit in several boxes. No roots.

“Yes—“

“Why?”

You pause from grabbing your toiletries. There are things to do here in LA - there’s the campaign, the meetings with investors, your contracts, your would-be dog - your life.

Your mother told you that your father doesn’t want you to make the flight. That he’s fine, and it’s just exhaustion but the waver in your mother’s voice had your heart dropping straight to your stomach. And so despite her half-hearted protests, you’ve turned over your works over email and sent the rest for your assistants to manage.

Seoul may as well be just another place in the map. No, you’re not coming for Seoul, you’re coming for family.

You grab your phone off your bed side table and press it against your ear. “My dad had a heart attack.”

On the other line, you can feel Taehyung consider his words. “I’m coming with you.”

Your hands pause from folding your clothes and you look at your phone and as if seeing your questioning gaze, Taehyung plows on. “Yeontan and I are coming with you.” “Why?”

There are two ways for Taehyung to answer. One easy way is to tell you the truth. That he knows you need a friend, a tether to your life here, someone who will solidify what you’ve built. Someone, something tangible, someone to prove to you that your life here is as real as the life you left.

Going back always runs the risk of regressing, falling back to old patterns, he learned.

After all, he knows the feeling of being forced back to square one.

Or, he could tell you this, “My brother’s been bugging me to visit. And I hate flying alone.”

You don’t mention that he’s flown across the globe more than you could count - even flew to France once because he wanted authentic mille-feuilles - and just nod. “Okay, I’ll send you the flight details.”

“Okay, Lady, I’ll be there.”

The collapse of the CEO of the biggest chain of hotels and one of the upcoming land developers in an annual gala event can never be kept a secret.

You’ve seen it happen only once before, to Mr. Min. As a young girl, you remember how the media feasted around him like flies, and how shareholders of his company stalked around like wolves under sheep’s clothing.

It was as if everyone was waiting with a baited breath for the old man to die. A final shift of power from the old ways to the new. It was sensational, romanticized by the public - not sparing a thought or two to the families except when they needed something.

That was years ago, and it’s an unfortunate fact that hasn’t changed a bit.

“Well, can’t say I didn’t expect this - at least we look good.” Taehyung mutters, decidedly ignoring the occasional flash of camera in his periphery. They were still trying to be subtle, maybe not sure of the “scoop”? Scared of your supposed hidden bodyguards? Who knows?

“You always look good, Tae.” You whisper lightheartedly, forcing calmness in your words.

Around you, people continue to buzz around, grabbing their suitcases from the conveyor, talking on the phone, glancing at their watches. But they too have noticed, and glances towards your way multiply as the minutes pass by.

Taehyung hums in agreement, looking as if he hadn’t just flown across the world. “Yes, it requires effort, but don’t go telling them that.”

A loud shutter sound draws you away from your conversation and you boldly meet the lenses of a masked photographer eye-to-eye. Every bit of the Oh heiress they’ve built up in their mind.

Last time you checked, you were the high society’s prodigal princess. Ran away from home, off to play Cinderella in the United States. Keeping busy with shallow causes, burning through your daddy’s money.

You wonder how they come up with their headlines. You’ve long since given up in appealing towards their journalist’s ethics, but with how creative they come up with stories, you’re a bit disappointed with the headline you last read. The least they could do was make it more fun - a hidden lover? Pregnant? A twist, or something.

You scoff. Although you may have been away for two years, you still are your parents’ daughter. This is child’s play.

Dressed in a black luxury pantsuit, heels lifting you up from the ground and make-up on point, you provide no weak points. Eyes half-lidded you stare straight to the cameras who’ve come out of their hiding, propriety be damned and all.

Oh Y/N is back.

(And if it feels like shrugging on a second skin, you pay it no mind)

“Tae… Tae… Tae!”

Taehyung jostles awake beside you, the hand you were shaking him with falls on your lap. “Wha— What?”

Yeontan’s yip echoes his owner’s confusion. The sound sounding as exhausted as he probably is. Flying has and will probably always be stressful for pets, but Taehyung refused to have someone dog sit Yeontan for this trip saying that he needs to meet his cousins, RJ or something.

Your eyes soften at your friend’s sleepy eyes. Outside the sky is bright, but you too can feel the time difference and jet lag creeping up.

“Sleep this off at the hotel, Tae. I’ll have the driver drop you off.” You’re already reaching out to press the button for the partition when Taehyung shakes his head.

“‘M not sleepy.”

“You’re dead on your feet, Tae.” Fondness laced in your words, you watch Taehyung straighten in his seat beside you and card his fingers through his hair, making the mess look like a ~coordinated~ one.

“I’m not letting you go there alone.”

“I’m going to the hospital, Tae, not war.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. Taehyung spies the way you tuck your hands around yourself, almost curling inwards, almost shaking.

No.

“Could’ve fooled me, you’re dressed to kill.”

You look over expecting a teasing grin on his face but you falter, frozen, at the sight of his eyes. Dark chocolate eyes pin you to your spot, and heat blooms on your cheeks. Suddenly, you feel like your suit is too tight and even in its dark shade - too sheer.

Almost two years of friendship has not rendered you immune to Kim Taehyung.

Like the passing scenery, the moment is gone as quick as it came. Taehyung smiles and lifts Yeontan to his shoulder.

“He’s going to be there, isn’t he?”

There’s no question as to who he’s referring to. “He might be, my mom said he almost hasn’t left my dad’s side.”

Taehyung scoffs, “Like a vulture.”

You want to defend Yoongi but despite leaving the country because of him, you did keep updated. Partly because it’s ingrained to you to stay on top of news relating to your family business and its periphery but also… well, you don’t know what you hoped for.

In the span of less than two years, Min Yoongi dragged their struggling company and made it great again. Competitors lost out, assets were seized left and right, absorbed, repurposed in the gaping maw of a resurging giant.

He’s ruthless.

But you can be too.

Oh Jiyoung is not a young man anymore.

He doesn’t think he’s been young since his mother abandoned him and his father when he was ten. He wasn’t young when he left school at fifteen, or when he went back when he was eighteen.

He wasn’t young when he bussed tables, or worked in shucking oysters Yeosodo with swollen scarred hands. He wasn’t even young when he first met his wife, fell in love and learned what it was like to be loved back.

So, no, he isn’t surprised when he had a heart attack. A little off-put, and a bit terrified but not surprised. He’s lived more decades than he actually expected to already.

Looking down at his hands, he thinks that if he’d kicked the bucket right then and there the only true regret he’ll have is one that involves the young man across him.

Oh Jiyoung is old, but he hasn’t forgotten the mannerisms of a young man. His wife still makes him feel like one after all this years. So of course, he’s noticed the young man across him fiddle with his rings, his feet tapping to a rhythm only he knows.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous.”

Yoongi looks up from his seat to the teasing face of his would’ve been father-in-law. His thumb pauses from rubbing against the ring in his forefinger, he doesn’t answer. He feels the stare of your father bore down on him and he almost shifts like a boy caught in a lie.

Your flight has landed just less than two hours ago, he doubts you’ll give yourself time to rest first before heading to the hospital. Which means, any time now, those doors will open and you’ll be here.

How odd.

As if summoned, the doors open and —

— there you are.

Yoongi’s eyes don’t stay on you too long, not with a tall man hovering behind you, dark eyes trained on him. Your ease at this man’s close proximity sets fire at the back of his neck, and even if he wanted to say hello, this, instead comes out.

“The rumors are true then, huh?” 

Tag List: @moonlitmyg @shadowstark @kookiebunnii @loveyoongles @swegstuffsuckers @anpanman-sonyeondan @veronawrites @ariadne-06 @springjade @neverthefirstchoice @creatorspalace​ End Notes: Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know what you think and if you want to be included in a tag list!

[lavenderek]

Why were you disappointed by the Howl's Moving Castle movie? I think I read the book years ago, but I don't remember much about it

i'm gonna critique the gibbly movie and it's my understanding that it's a special movie for a lot of people so if that's you feel free to skip this one

so i was delighted and enchanted by the book, which has only twice to date not made the movie a devastating letdown, so my dear friend sending me this book was pretty much signing a contract in her own blood accepting that i would be cranky about the movie. i'm not really a ghibli person either, like i can appreciate the artistry and value in them, and i'll watch it if the people i'm with really need to watch princess mononoke or whatever, but i just don't go out of my way to watch them. (i like reading meta about spirited away, though.)

i did go out of my way to watch this one because i loved the book so much.

it's important to remember the culture in which the movie was made as opposed to the culture in which the book was made. howl is welsh, if that says anything to you. (his name is howell, and he adopted the name howl to run from himself and seem more magical. i love him and movie howl had none of those elements except for when he told us he was a coward and i was like. ok lol, i'll jot that down because i didn't see it in the text)

so i'm not necessarily surprised by the creative changes they made, but i am confused, because those changes drastically affect the characterization, the character motivations, and the pacing of the story.

(i also was only able to get my hands on the dub and i loathe and detest christian bale as howl lmfao but that's subjective)

so first of all, does movie sophie, like, want anything? she's flawless as a character. even though she has a completely different personality as an old lady than she does as a young lady, there's nothing wrong with her. everybody is fond of her, she's shy, she's gentle, she's beautiful, and she's kind, and her only motivation in the whole movie is this vague desire to cure the curse, but even then she doesn't work on it much at all. her life before howl is about being buffeted around like a leaf in the wind, and her life after howl is about being buffeted around like a cow in a twister. sophie in the movie is a blank slate. she is insecure about her looks (seriously, they couldn't even give her like a crooked nose or something, only doll-faced, thin, pale women over here), and her confessing this and crying about it for about four seconds was the first truly deep emotional response i had seen of her. i cried when she cried, who doesn't grapple with feelings of inadequacy? then the kid came out and she was like, okay, i'm done being upset now :)

second of all, howl is a little eccentric, but mostly he's just a glorious gentleman who has a messy room and one (1) overly dramatic depressive episode. it was disturbing to me as a viewer because it was violent and came out of nowhere, and it never comes back again lmao. it was so bizarre, he's introduced as this suave, debonair man in a cape, and he stays that way the entire movie, except for a weird moment in the middle where he screams at sophie naked and then lists the character flaws that we the viewers have never witnessed. why does he like sophie? why does sophie like him?

why did they turn michael into a child? i just don't see what that added to the story lmao. i get them taking out the complexity of secrets involving sophie's decidedly interchangeable sisters and their mystery beaus, it's a lot to fit into a little movie; but like, why did they turn him into a child though lmao

there's a lot of fatphobia in the movie too.

the change that upset me the most, though, was that the element of sophie having the ability to influence things without her knowledge was totally abandoned. like i said, things just sort of happen to her. in the book, her hats are the most lovely because she's inadvertently cast spells on them to make whoever wears them seem alluring or mysterious to people. the witch curses her because she recognizes these little spells and believes sophie's trying and failing to trick her (and also because sophie snaps at her lmao, why is movie sophie only an asshole when she's old? leave my daughter alone).

book sophie unknowingly protects howl by worrying over his cape (which she previously shredded because she got mad at him, i love her), she unknowingly enchants the scarecrow by helping it stand and complimenting it. she does that the entire book. she also starts the book already feeling sort of dull and trapped, and spends the story trying desperately to solve mysteries and protect loved ones. movie sophie doesn't like, sit around and knit demurely, don't get me wrong; but all the major plot points are things that howl makes happen to her lol.

i think the scarecrow is an excellent representation of book sophie's inner struggles. it's something she inadvertently enchanted, and she doesn't understand it, so she runs from it. she's terrified of the thing. in that way it kind of stands in for her own agency: only when she was forcibly in disguise did she feel free to find out what she wants her life to look like, and that kind of power is foreign and frightening to her. i loved that for her.

and very late in the book, howl reveals that he knew all along she was under a spell, that he tried to get rid of it out of curiosity (book howl doesn't seem to notice that he's just as imperious and nosy as sophie is), but she resisted it. he couldn't get the spell off. so he assumed she wanted to stay that way and let her be about it. so basically it's very huck finn on the raft, she realizes that in running to get away, she was already away. she had that agency all along.

all of that was missing from movie sophie. the idea of her inadvertently hanging on to the curse is still there, we see that she sort of fades back to her young self while she's asleep (not the case in the book, we know this because howl doesn't know what she looks like until she turns back in the end); but she doesn't seem to gain any knowledge about herself because of this. the only time she seems to have any personal drive, it's to learn about and help howl. her inner struggles are about howl. and i hated movie howl lmao, i hated his design and i hated his voice and i hated how like, patronizing he was to everyone around him. book howl was a condescending dick at times and just weird and distant at others, but he never came across like he was absolutely positive he was seducing sophie at any given moment. it was clear that he was the star of the movie and sophie was just the audience stand in to be like 🤩🥸🧐

the scarecrow who is a prince was the most hilariously egregious moment in the entire movie. in the book, the missing prince is introduced as a plot in the beginning and is referenced repeatedly throughout. and he's a major player in the climax. in the movie, it's the last like five minutes of the film and the scarecrow turns into a dapper boy with bread for hair and is like, "you've cured me! i'm a prince who went missing from a nearby kingdom and i was cursed but now i'm free." and i was like NICE, so we just found out there's a nearby kingdom that has a prince who's been missing. love that for us

the book had a lot of themes that i don't often encounter in fantasy novels - themes of female agency, of disguise, and of chaos. the chaos is my favorite part, every chapter is equally chaotic at various levels. you'll have michael fretting over some spell, sophie fretting over her own spell, howl trying to get someone in disguise to fall in love with him, THAT someone pining over michael, and all the while sophie and howl are bickering because she is cleaning (it seems like she cleans to clean up her mind) and he doesnt want her to (he is afraid of change and of reality), and he needs a huge favor of her, and she needs to wheedle out of it, and she promised calcifer she would free him, and calcifer is repeatedly promising to die of not being appreciated enough, and everybody is having three arguments at once. it's like that in every chapter, culminating in the moment howl and sophie realize they're in love, and they stand clasping hands and sort of smiling at each other in the middle of a room full of panicking and perplexed people just yelling over each other lmfao. surrounded by chaos and no longer thrown by it, rooted there in the middle of it, stabilizing each other in a way. i loved that. i actually flipped back a few pages so i could read that moment again.

and it seemed to me that the movie tried to imply that with visual chaos, but everything else was really quite linear and simple. everything was very airy. and since the conflama and the general atmosphere and character dynamics of the book is what made me fall in love with it, the movie didn't work for me.

tumblr user door pointed out that the book and the movie are extremely different and she appreciates them both as separate entities, and she's wise and correct; i knew this and i tried so hard to engage with the movie on its own terms. but i couldn't divorce them in my mind. i felt the same way about ella enchanted and practical magic. i cant stop thinking like, i wish they hadn't gotten rid of x, i wish they hadn't added this weird element of y.

also it was boring. i checked to see how much more was left three times. sorry. i can't express enough how little i cared about the plot with the witch and somebody's secretly evil boss and time traveling to yell at howl or something, because i didn't connect with the characters. and the feathers growing out of howl triggered my weird phobia about things being embedded in skin. i'm skeeved just remembering it.

anyway, yeah. the movie was beautifully animated and whatever atmosphere they were going for was pretty consistent throughout. oh and i LOVED calcifer. he was my favorite in both the book and the movie. in fact, he was the only character in the movie who they didn't really change, he was petty and bitchy in both versions. i loved him. he's like, "SHE FED ME SOMETHING YUCKY" my perfect, horrible boy.

oh and. book sophie was a redhead. that's all.

after i finished the book i tried to draw how imagined them:

couldn't finish it though, i wasn't super jazzed about how it was coming out.

she's sitting in like, a window well altering a coat of his without permission. and he's like, i guess i'll have to wear this one instead, and she's like, i guess you will

[floweryfreelance]

𝕴𝖓𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖆 𝕽𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖘

CHAPTER FOUR

Table of Contents

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

This work of fiction is an original collaborative work between tumblr users @theearltrancy and @floweryfreelance. Its original format was in that of a roleplay, and has been edited to be a more cohesive story. This work was created on 11.10.20 and completed on 11.30.20.

Please consider following each author for more fictional works.

-

Ciel made his way up the grand staircase in the center of the foyer, admiring paintings on the walls as he made his way down the hallway towards his own bedroom. As he walked, growing closer and closer to Alois’ old spare room, he heard voices. Ah, he must have been right. That cocky demon butler of his must be getting a stern talking to. He smirked.

Feeling too mature to stand with his ear against the door, Ciel simply slowed his walking pace, tuning his ear just in case he was able to pick up anything being said inside the room. And what he heard, well, it certainly didn’t sound pleasant.

Inside the room was Alois’ voice quickly reaching a louder and louder pitch. He once saved his anger for Hannah, but the roles had reversed now, the man’s now deeper voice rattling things in the room. He could feel himself getting too heated, but the demon couldn’t feel pain; he was keenly aware. 

“No, I don’t care, you absolute wretch!” He screamed, taking his own shoe from earlier and tossing it at the butler’s head. He dodged, the object smacking the wall behind him. “I will do things in my own time, do you understand? I will not be a pawn for your f*cking problems anymore! Not tonight, not ever!” 

Claude’s response was low and threatening, almost as if he were still disciplining a child. In fact, he seemed to think that’s exactly all he was doing. The dismissive attitude only angered him more. “Your Highness… If you do not have the drive to take that man from that wretched butler, you will only be stuck with me longer. It is beneficial for us both that you complete your contract, and that means you must take the boy.”

“For you! Always for you! I signed that contract thinking I would get something out of it! Maybe a companion, for god’s sake!” Alois screeched, knowing now he could be heard from outside of the room. “But all you’ve done is lie to and cheat me! I wanted you to take me!” 

“You know I cannot do that until you find a way to take him. Even if you isolate him, I can leave. I can make it a pleasurable experience for you.” 

“But that’s not what you really want, is it?” The man retorted, cooling into sass. “Get the hell out of here. And take your god damn attitude too. That’s an ORDER.” 

The door opened moments later, revealing an emotionless Claude if not slightly annoyed, and a simply vicious Alois with his arms crossed on his chest. The demon nodded at Ciel as if nothing had happened, but a peek in the room would show that was not the case. The blonde had been throwing all his things around, tearing his clothes from the closet onto the floor now, a flurry of a man. Though grown now, it was at times as if all he had grown was taller.

Ciel couldn’t mask his searing glare at the butler as he walked past, perhaps partially compensating for just how shaken he felt after hearing their words, particularly Claude’s. He really would give anything to just see him dead, wouldn’t he? As is the nature of such a contract.

Seeing Alois in this fragile state, knowing he hadn’t been noticed quite yet, he quietly stepped into the room, looking at the clothes on the floor. “..You’ve made a mess.” He noted, bending down to pick up a deep purple coat that had been crumpled on the floor. “Did you notice?” He inquired, looking up at the distressed blond man before him. “These clothes, they’re yours from all those years ago. I left them.” He inspected the sleeves. “I’m frankly surprised there aren’t more moth holes.”

In his experience, Ciel knew the best way to approach Alois during these fits of rage was calmly. In fact, his presence typically helped to calm him down regardless.It pained him to see him like this. In the past, he found his tantrums childish and annoying, but since growing to understand him, they just hurt to see. However, he always kept a slight distance until he could tell if he was still in the heat of the moment. And so, Ciel stood still, gently holding the small boy’s coat in his hand while looking at his love.

He took a step closer, standing so that his leg was just brushing Alois’ arm as he sat on the ground. He crouched beside him, still holding the purple coat. His mind wandered, trying to find the right words to say.

“..I.. lied earlier.” Ciel admitted, rubbing the coat fabric between his thumb and forefinger. “I didn’t leave this room untouched. I had it cleaned everyday.” It was embarrassing to admit, he felt, but he wanted to ground Alois. He wanted to remind him he was wanted and loved and desired. He could withstand feeling embarrassed for a minute or two. “The maid dusted everyday, changed the sheets once a week. And by the looks of it, kept your old clothes ironed. How she did all that everyday, I don’t know.”

He stood once again, looking around the room he hadn’t stepped foot into in eight long years. It truly looked as though it was in present use, not a speck of dust or a single stain anywhere to be found. Impressive, he thought to himself. “I remember sneaking in here.” Ciel couldn’t help but smile softly. “On the nights when you were too stubborn to come to my room, and waited here until I grew impatient enough to sneak into yours.” 

The thought brought a small smile to the man’s face, though he betrayed none of that information to the other. He did lift his head, though, taking a look around at the hell he had created. Though his anger had once again caused destruction, he couldn’t help but notice the man was correct - the room was dusted, polished, and comfortable. His old clothing was flawlessly ironed, and he remembered that before he’d been triggered, it was in fact all folded and hung just the way it was when he was a teen. He let some of the tension in his body go, taking one hand from his head to rest his arm on his knee. 

“We took turns.” He recalled, still breathing heavily but coming back to the room slowly, “I liked to play. You made it easy.” He looked his lover in the eyes. “We were so small.” The man sighed, looking away to the clothes on the floor surrounding him, noting he had also made a small dent in the wall behind them with his heel. 

Note to self. Aim better next time.

“We did play.” Ciel agreed, standing and walking to the wardrobe, hanging the purple coat back in the closet. The remaining clothes could be taken care of in the morning, as they were the least of his concerns. The white night clothes set out on the bed caught his eye, though upon closer inspection, he noticed there were two pairs. He smirked, that idiot, he thought, knowing Sebastian must have thought it would be amusing to prepare for what they all knew would happen.

Turning back to Alois, he held out his hand and leaned his cane against the wardrobe. “Here now, stand up. We don’t have our butlers to dress us,” he said sarcastically. “But we can’t sleep in our dinner attire.”

Smiling gently to himself now, Alois took another deep breath and stood up, dusting himself off. He bit his lip, planning his next move, for they were finally truly alone. The man took a good few solid steps towards the other until they were impossibly close. The sudden movement pressed his lover against the closed door of the closet, placing an arm on the other side so that the man couldn’t escape him. 

“I suppose we can’t.” He acknowledged, placing his free hand under the other’s chin. This being the first time since they were young teenagers, he added, “Hm, seems I’m still taller than you.” 

If there were any way he knew how to transition out of an intense emotion, it was straight through another one - lust. Even as an adult, he only had three modes - indifferent, violent, and reveling in sin. 

“So. Dress me.” He ordered.

The cool of the wood door against his back counteracted the heat filling his body. Eight years had passed since he was spoken to like this, touched like this. The Earl honestly thought he would never experience anything like it again, so long as he lived.

His heart pounded in the chamber of his chest, and he wondered if the other man could feel it too. His jaw shifted as he swallowed hard, feeling the warm fingers of his lover caressing his chin. Ciel melted for him, just like he always did. “Don’t order me around..” he protested, the tone of his voice eager and excited but attempting to hide behind a disguise of stubbornness.

Without taking his eyes off of him, Ciel cautiously reached up to Alois’ chest, grasping the buttons of his overcoat and beginning to undo them. His hands visibly shook and he cursed himself for it, it was as if it were the first time all over again. 

“And if I do?” He purred, holding control over himself while he leaned in to press a small kiss on Ciel’s earlobe. His whole body pulled closer, closing even more distance between the two. Leaving just enough space for the buttons to come undone, he leaned back once they were loose, shrugging the coat off to the floor along with his other things. The size difference was notable when the two coats were side by side, Alois now pushing 6′ tall himself. 

In response, he reached back out to his lover’s chest, pulling button after button open. The pale skin underneath caught the moonlight like a modern day Adonis. Just as Aphrodite had done long ago, he would sacrifice his sanity to spend only several nights a year with him if it came to it. Now there was definition to his chest - not quite muscle, but the man wasn’t soft either. Alois smiled mischievously, ducking in for a deep kiss on the lips with no hesitation. 

While the other was nervous and shaky, the taller man was confident and needy. He’d bided his time pretending that positions like this were with his fantasy to begin with. Now that it really was the one he imagined most nights, he’d waste no time. He’d push the subject and get his way - for once, just for once.

“Y..You..” A sad attempt at a protest. He was helpless at this point, as he always was when they played this game. Shuddered breaths escaped Ciel’s lips, his throat and hands and legs beginning to throb with the violent beating of his heart. Hardly even noticing his own buttons being undone, he couldn’t help but stare at the unfamiliar physique of his partner, still just as pale and soft and smelling of lavender, but larger. Of course, he was used to that aspect, as Alois had always had the advantage when it came to physical size. Another reminder they were men now.

A cool breeze crossed his chest as button after button was opened, and he trailed his fingertips down his lover’s abdomen, touching him as if he was still unsure if he was really there. His fingers kept moving until they reached a new texture, his eyes following. A scar. The scar. His thumb gently ran across it, memories of that awful night haunting his memory again.

A distraction. He wanted a distraction. This moment was too sweet to be ruined by those nightmares. Ciel’s hand darted back up Alois’ body, wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him back in for a deeply passionate kiss, the feeling of his lips on his own bringing him back to the present moment.

Noticing his pause, Alois was pulled out of the moment for a split-second, eyes following the other’s to the raggedly-healed wound on his abdomen. Once upon a time, it nearly killed him. It took months to seal up to the point he would no longer vomit blood. Yet, it served as a reminder to tie the two together. The man had made peace with it, never answering Jean honestly when he asked about it. A fight with a carriage, maybe he’d fallen, sometimes he changed his lie to keep it fresh in his mind. Little did he know about the beautifully composed violent blue boy in London. 

Though the thought didn’t last long until he was to be wrapped in another kiss. The two lost themselves in the texture of the other’s lips, the newfound fullness and softness. For a moment, the blonde forgot that for the other, it had been years since he felt this much passion, for he knew his lover would only accept a partner that could destroy him and build him back up in one night; a challenging love. The night allowed for this kind of depraved waltz. 

Shrugging off his own shirt, he pulled off the necktie he’d chosen for that day, pulling it behind Ciel’s neck and quickly grabbing it tight - cutting off breath for a split-second. The gasp for air would last long enough to make the other slightly dizzy, almost a drunk sort of feeling. While Ciel had been saving himself for marriage, Alois had been learning new tricks in Paris.

His breath caught in his throat as his neck was pulled forward slightly, his eyes widening at the unfamiliar and sudden sensation. He liked it. His hands grabbed tightly at his lover’s shoulders, his body’s initial reaction being to fight for air, until he relaxed and leaned into the lightheaded feeling. As the tightness of the tie around his neck loosened he gasped for breath, heat pooling in his lower stomach.

Ciel’s hand ran up the back of Alois’ neck, lightly entangling itself in the silky blond hair and tugging, all needy and wanting. It was during moments like these that Ciel was thankful there wasn’t a mirror nearby, as he’d never be able to forgive himself for how he looked now- desperate and weak, two traits he prided himself on seldom exhibiting. Meanwhile, his free hand worked its way down to the other’s trousers, his subconscious growing impatient.

A devilish smile crossed the man’s face, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he felt his lover’s hand stray from his chest. In reaction, the blonde grabbed the other by the hips, fingers hooking through the belt loops. Using this guide, he swung Ciel to the other side and walked him back to the bed in the center of the room. 

The soft silk accepted the two into its folds as Alois pressed him down into it, following on top in a straddle. Oh, how long it had been since he had looked down at the real version of this scene rather than the discount. It even made the space worth it somehow, made the taste sweeter. Reaching down to finish undoing all the remaining buttons on his lover’s chest, he took a second to trace the new body. He was certainly well-built, and knowing how many sweets the other indulged in, it made him wonder exactly where it came from. Of course, this matched his fantasy even more so and lit a fire within him.

“I’ve missed the real thing..” He whispered, leaning down to place a lengthy kiss on the other’s exposed collarbone. “You’re worth it.”

Ciel’s hands instinctively fell against the pillows on either side of his head as he laid back, his body remembering how many times he had been pinned down in this position to be toyed with by his lover. His chest rose and fell as he took shallow, nervous breaths, his spine arching ever so slightly as he felt the other’s lips against his collarbone.

This was bliss, it had to be. For eight years he spent every night alone, many of those nights sleepless as Alois’ face appeared behind his eyelids. And yet, here he was. Here they were, tangled in each other’s arms and peppering each other with kisses and nips, their bodies illuminated by a sliver of moonlight shining through the curtains. If he had ever wanted a painting of anything, it would be this.

A hand came up to cradle Alois’ head as he kissed his chest, his other hand sliding up his lover’s thigh eagerly and brushing his fingertips just underneath the hem of his trousers. Lifting Alois’ head so his eyes met his own, he tugged lightly on the fabric of his pants. “Off.”

“Hm,” Alois snickered quietly, smiling against the other’s skin. He’d forgotten all about the past few weeks, even the dent he’d just made in the wall. The man leaned back to stand and undid his belt, allowing the layer to fall to the floor. All that remained now was a pair of not-so-modest undergarments and his socks, illuminated by the moonlight. 

“Since you want to be so demanding,” He purred, leaning back in to speak right against the other’s neck. “You too, coward.” 

The two were as close to heaven as they could ever get. Living in sin left one with only so many options - sink to the bottom, or find a way out. Being that they’d already sold their souls, this love was to be their only glimpse of it. That it was; both were old enough to savor it as such, hardened by the world outside this room. Yet, they were still young enough to allow some recklessness into their doomed sorts of lives. Knowing this fact, Alois rolled off his lover, now sitting on the edge of the bed and gesturing. Up.

He would never admit it aloud, or maybe even to himself, but Alois was more than likely the only person who could order him around, and have it arouse him. His eyes watched intently as his partner continued to undress, noting the way his fingers methodically moved, the way his stomach and chest expanded with every breath; it was exhilarating.

Hearing the command, Ciel moved in carefully calculated movements, as if he could be pounced on at any moment. He stood up, dropping his unbuttoned shirt to the floor before moving onto his own trousers. Button by button, the fabric loosened before pooling around his ankles. He stepped out of them, his hands on Alois’ shoulders for balance. And there he stood, nearly naked and completely vulnerable for the first time in nearly a decade.

The bluenette moved as if leaning in for another kiss but hesitated, leaning away again. He reached behind his own head, grabbing the string of his eye patch between his thumb and forefingers, pulling until it loosened and fell to the floor. There, he thought, off.

Surprised by the sight of both eyes, the man’s eyes locked with the other’s. A soft sound of “oh, love…” escaped his lips, his hand moving up the side of Ciel’s skull to gently hold him there. He took a moment to gaze into both eyes, having all but forgotten he’d only ever seen the one. Even as teens, Ciel was always cautious about how much of himself he revealed even when completely alone. Though he knew the contract resided there, it never really dawned on him that he had never seen it. Recognizing how raw this moment was, the man leaned back until he was flat against the bed, other hand coming up to trace along his partner’s chest. 

It was only moments before he pulled him back in for a deep kiss, filled now with all the longing and pining of eight full years. For a moment, it crossed his mind that this man deserved better from him- he always had. He deserved all his raw moments, anger and joy, sickness and health, fear and confidence. Alois wished he could find a way to give that all to him. If only there were a way, Alois would risk it all. Maybe someday they could play dead and run away, have Sebastian kill Claude, write Lizzie a nice letter - something about market study in the States. 

At least they could sail away in these sheets for the night, he thought. Before he realized it, his hands had travelled to his lover’s waist, pulling them so close together that it would require something earth-shattering to pull them away. His mind was scattered, but his body fell into old patterns, finding it completely impossible not to touch the other. Suddenly, every moment he spent with his ex-lover felt like a paperback book that ended on a cliffhanger- so close to satisfying, but nothing compared to a happy ending.

Vulnerability was surprisingly becoming on Ciel; as someone who prided himself on being completely untouchable both emotionally and physically, he appeared most beautiful in this state, especially in the eyes of his lover. He rubbed his eye slightly, trying to regain the balanced sight of two eyes he had been lacking for a whole day. He wanted to see Alois clearly.

Pulled back in for a deep kiss, Ciel climbed forward, straddling the blond man underneath him with his arms wrapped underneath his neck, pulling them impossibly close. He hummed as their hips ground against one another, as he brought one hand around to lightly trace his thumb across Alois’ bottom lip.

“Let me see yours..” He whispered, his digit pulling down lightly on his lip and brushing against his bottom teeth. The other Earl’s contract seal was not new to him- he had seen it before a number of times, but he had nearly forgotten what it looked like now, the image just a fuzzy memory buried in his mind. This thing, this stupidly complicated thing, was one of the few things that they felt tied them together.

Smiling with his teeth, a rare sight in and of itself, the man was glad he could share this with someone. Jean knew nothing of his contract, making efforts to hide his contract from the lover of his. It was a deep secret once he left the city, one he planned to take to his grave after Claude gutted him for his soul. It was a secret he shared with the man in front of him and in a way, the shared tragedy made him feel like he could be all of himself without effort. 

He allowed his tongue to stick out of his mouth, the inactive pattern still visible despite its faded nature. It spoke to the strength of the bond he held with his demon, or lack thereof. Though it looked like a burn mark when it wasn’t on display, it was still visible. Alois searched his lover’s eyes for approval, insecurity bleeding through his expression.

Sensing his partner’s vulnerability his lips curled into some mixture of a smile and a smirk, enjoying the look on his face though trying to remain comforting. “Beautiful..” he whispered, fingers grasping Alois’ jaw to pull him into another kiss. This kiss was backed with more fire, all teeth and tongue as they savored the taste and texture of one another.

The fire in his belly growing hotter, he found himself subconsciously rocking his hips against the other’s, searching desperately for some sort of friction to release the knot he felt forming deep inside him. His neediness was showing as he pulled down on his partner’s undergarments, annoyed by the thin pieces of fabric still keeping them even remotely decent. “These too..” he whined, clearing his throat as he felt embarrassment wash over him at the sound of his own voice. “Off..”

A light laugh left his lips, finding the desperation completely hilarious. Alois pushed his lover off eagerly, shifting his legs to get the undergarment off and allowing it to fall to the floor. He swiftly pulled the other man back in for a deep kiss, rolling the two over so that he could position himself on top and straddle the other. Now completely nude, the moonlight caught his skin in his moment of pause. 

“You’re so demanding…” He purred, leaning back in and winding a hand behind the other’s head. He locked his fingers in the denim hair, briefly eliciting a light amount of pain. “Though, you’ve been saving yourself.” He added, raising an eyebrow to challenge him. He’d missed just how needy his lover got with him, circumstance leading them to secrecy, and him being the only man unafraid to break that barrier - the only man who held this secret with him.

A soft whine left his lips as his head was pulled back, his Adam’s apple protruding from his throat as his neck arched. His face contorted slightly as he gazed up at the controlling man, brows furrowed and eyes slightly widened as his face flushed a deep rosy red.

He would be lying to himself if he tried to claim he wasn’t at least a bit nervous, as excited as he was. It had been nearly a decade since he had been in this position, this situation, and it had his nerves running rampant. Considering he still wasn’t married, he really hadn’t been physically intimate with another person since he was a young teen, when they experimented with each other’s bodies and memorized every curve and mark.

Ciel swallowed hard, the action difficult with the angle of his neck. “Eight years.. yes..” he breathed, his hands gently running up Alois’ thighs, dangerously close to his core but refusing to touch it. As desperate as he appeared, he liked to play games with him, too.

“Mm…” He trailed, tensing at the touch and biting his lip to stay calm as possible. “All for me, then..” He hummed. He was getting closer to losing his mind in the intimacy, whole body heating up. While he hadn’t had a lack of intimacy by any means, none of it was anything honest. He’d used his ex-lover as a means to an end, a way to spend those eight years not so alone. None of it was true pleasure. 

But this, this most certainly was just that. It was as if he hadn’t been touched in years either, never as nervous with another as he was with Ciel. The man knew every curve and spot by muscle memory, but his passion clouded his mind, rendered just as useless.

Removing his hand from the back of Ciel’s head, he grabbed the hand that was wandering near his thighs. Alois guided it, allowing it to rest directly beside his member, leaving the choice still ever open. Besides, his own hands had become shaky, his eyes having trouble staying open. “Please…” He whispered, opening his eyes for a second to reveal a pleading expression.

Ciel’s lips parted and hung open, his eyes never leaving Alois’ as he carefully wrapped his palm around the other’s member, grasping it gently. He watched his face for a change in expression, enjoying teasing his lover even as he laid underneath him, powerless.

Truth be told, Ciel would stay in this moment for all eternity if he could. Just the two of them; bodies bare and vulnerable, entangled in each other’s arms and legs twisted around one another, just like this forever.

Despite his current position, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of confidence as he touched the other man, his hand slowly beginning to move back and forth, his movements triggered by muscle memory. He grinned, looking up at Alois through half lidded eyes. “I so love that face you make..” He commented, his free hand running up and down Alois’ chest and stomach. “The same face, only older..” His hand squeezed slightly around the other’s member, hoping to provoke a more entertaining reaction from his partner.

Upon the contact, the blonde man gasped loudly, clapping a hand over his mouth in embarassment. Although they were entirely alone, it had been a long time since he’d felt a genuine surge of passion and the sudden vocalization shocked even himself. Confident, my love. 

“Ah-” he attempted, his breath catching, God, it was so hard to speak when handling actual pleasure. His entire body was so hot. “I’ll need to relearn you…” He trailed, eyes closing again, “all over again…” He admitted, his memory of Paris disappearing as the evening turned to deep blue night. 

Like the other, he wished for the time to just freeze here. They were so safe under the cover of night, and they didn’t have to lie to the world here. The blonde could be open with the other man underneath him, mouths and sins combining.

Ciel’s face subconsciously mimicked the other’s, his mouth slightly agape as he felt his lover harden under his touch. He continued stroking softly, tracing his thumb ever so gently around the tip.

“Then start studying..” he whispered, his voice breathy and longing. The knot in his stomach grew tighter and hotter, the friction between the two of them arousing himself as well. “You have a lot of catching up to do.” His cockiness was showing, made even more obvious by the smirk spreading across his lips like melted butter. Ciel spoke teasingly as if he himself didn’t have to relearn his lover’s body.

But his teasing didn’t stop there. He swiftly removed his hand from Alois’ member, placing both of his hands by either side of his head against the mattress. Alois got a taste, now it was his turn. And he would lay here until he got it. Clearly it hadn’t taken long for the two of them to fall back into the passionate and competitive, also quite stubborn, nature of their games.

“Fuck you…” He breathed, sending his lover a dagger of a glare. The man crawled off the bed at this moment, sliding down to the ground on his knees. He didn’t wait for the other man to reposition, but instead chose to grab both legs and tug him closer to the edge of the bed. 

The blonde licked his lips, a glimpse of his contract seal showing as he did so, leaning in now to place his lover’s member in his own mouth. Things like this held double-meaning for him, only ever soiling his seal for the other man. He and Jean’s love life was still a mystery to both; Alois lived in a daze then, and feeling alive at all came at a price. One thing could be said about it, however - Alois never allowed anyone else to touch his tongue in such a way. 

He worked the other to a fever pitch, he himself getting lost as well. Lesson one, he thought, one of many from here on out. The idea that the other was still engaged made him smile, knowing that he was able to prove his own worth on his knees.

A surprised gasp left him as he was pulled, moving to sit up on his elbows to watch Alois sink down to the ground before him. A pretty sight, he thought, though the devilish smirk on his face was quickly wiped away as soon as he felt his mouth on him. His right hand immediately went to the blond’s hair, gripping tightly as his left hand twisted itself in the sheets. His head, suddenly heavy, fell back against the mattress, a whimpering moan pouring from his lips.

Before his eyes, the other man could see his stomach muscles twitching and his chest heaving with heavy breaths as his mind frantically tried to make sense of this long forgotten feeling. Fingers and toes curled, back arched, eyes shut tightly as he felt his member engulfed in wet warmth.

His goal pleasure, the blonde bobbed his head dutifully, lost in the motion. He could feel his lover grow harder and hotter on the walls of his cheeks, a forgotten feeling and one long-missed. Ciel’s moans were a welcome melody to his ears, hands grabbing the other’s legs tightly; he had to be careful not to leave any bruises though he would delve great pleasure from doing so. 

He wished nothing more than to provide pleasure, despite only ever being good at receiving it. It was bliss to see the other’s edges soften right in front of his eyes, his breath quickening and his reaction exactly what he wanted out of the other. The taste of skin and the heat of the room were but a backdrop to their worlds entwining for a night - hopefully, there would be many more.

The two continued without words, only the sounds of whines and moans singing in their ears. Opening his eyes after holding them so tightly shut, Ciel felt as though he were seeing stars. He felt as though he could cry. Eight years of loneliness, eight years of being completely touch starved and wishing everyday so ashamedly that it was Alois’ cheek he were kissing instead of Lizzie’s.

His legs suddenly curled up around Alois’ head, unknowingly squeezing him between them as he felt hot pleasure pooling deep within him. It couldn’t end now, he had to last longer than this. He wished he could last hours doing this, all night if he were able. Gripping the blond’s hair tighter than he meant to, he pulled, lifting Alois’ head from his groin before he fell over the edge.

And what a sight he was. Pink and flushed and sweating and completely out of breath, barely able to hold himself up balancing on one elbow dug into the mattress. Ciel stared into nothing, eyes half lidded and pupils larger than moons, a bit embarrassed at how quickly Alois had gotten a rise out of him, but also trying to come down off of his overwhelming high.

The high was like a drug, a quick and fast hit now and then to stay satisfied. Alois felt like an addict, seeking his next hit from every hallway and dark room until he could come home and get high on his own supply. To compare it, Jean had been like a weak supply, a watered-down opiate that kept him alive but did naught much else. Ciel was the cleanest form of it, one hit could make him lose his mind. 

The contact turned his entire face bright pink and his whole body hot as the fire they stood in front of earlier. He was briefly thankful that his butler had worn him down already, stripped him emotionally so he could feel his lover piece him back together, breath by breath; pure opium poppies to soothe him. The blonde felt dizzy and lightheaded as his hair was grasped, crawling back on top of his love. What a sight that man beneath him was. 

Ciel had grown into a remarkable man, chiseled chest as if by the gods themselves. He took a pause to look him over, messy and unseamed. This was a sight he could behold for hours upon hours, the moonlight through the slightly drawn curtain dancing on them both. Leaning down on his own elbow, he placed a soft kiss on his lover’s cheek, a sweet gesture unusual for the Earl. 

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled, brushing hair from the other man’s face with his free hand. “All I ever wanted.. right here.”

It was painfully poetic, how the two Earl’s saw each other in exactly the same way, particularly in this very moment. Flushed pink, out of breath and sweat beading up on their foreheads; surely the most beautiful sight they had seen in a long time.

Catching his breath, Ciel looked Alois in the eyes upon hearing his words, his heart clenching. Beautiful, the voice repeated in his mind. It was in moments like these that Ciel struggled to find words, too caught up in the act to think properly, as if he never learned to speak in the first place. He did what he could only think of doing then, and wrapped his arms tightly around Alois and pulled him in close, capturing his lips yet again in a deep kiss. His legs lifted, locking ankles around Alois’ hips, and he trailed one hand back down to his lover’s member, wasting no time in stroking him eagerly. Ciel wanted to capture every one of his moans and breathless gasps.

He needed him. He wanted him. He wanted just as much for it to happen as he wanted the scene to last for hours. “Please..” he whined in the kiss, nearly desperate enough to begin begging. “Alois, please..”

Allowing a heavy breath to pass his lips upon the touch of the other, he closed his eyes in desire. His hot breath released onto his lover’s face, relaxing into a soft smile. Alois opened his eyes to fix his gaze on his face, taking in every sweet second they had right now. 

“Take me however you wish.” He stated, weak and low. “You’re the one who’s been waiting without a placeholder. So… show me what you fantasized about.” His statement dripped with desire and longing, his thoughts still partially distant but his body and world contained in this room. He wondered exactly what the other wanted to see from him, nothing but a circus clown when it came to the other man. Alois knew in that moment, he’d do absolutely anything if it made the love of his life feel some kind of freedom from all the responsibility they both held, knowing none of those fantasies were for the consumption of his betrothed.

With his hand still working diligently, stroking his lover ever so intently, his face froze as he stared up at the other, looking so deeply into his sea blue eyes he thought he might be falling in.

What had he fantasized about? Eight years had passed and Ciel spent every one of those days trying desperately to forget Alois; his scent, his body, the feeling of his skin against his own. When they were young, they spent nights like these experimenting, learning about each other’s bodies and their own; what felt good and what felt right. In fact, thinking about it now, they had probably used almost every surface in this room for sinning. Ciel’s face turned an even darker red at the thought, those memories resurfacing.

But ultimately, he knew what he wanted. “This..” he breathed, bringing both of his hands up to Alois’ cheeks to hold him and stroke his thumbs across his skin. “Like this.. I want to see your face..” Saying it this way made it sound romantic, and while of course it was, a part of Ciel also wanted so desperately to watch the other’s face contort with pleasure as they neared the end of this. That was admittedly his favorite part. “Take me this way..”

He nodded softly, breath catching in his throat at every stroke. Fuck, jean wishes he could. Alois had only ever loved one other like this- his butler never returning the favor, every other man in his bed only ever filling the space. He had nearly forgotten what love really felt like; the passion of such a love never quite matching up. 

He rolled himself over, taking his lover with him since they were locked in such a manner. The man splayed himself out beneath him, giving himself up to the moment. “All of me is yours,” he purred, leaving himself on display for the other alone. His pale skin was hot as a stovetop, arching towards the other in desire. 

It has always belonged to the other man, he thought. No matter what he tried to do to move on, none of it had worked. He knew now that this was due to the fact that having sold their souls, their bodies were forever bound by the lack. They were a match made directly in hell itself, the fires of which came through their bodies when they were alone.

A moment passed as Ciel regained his balance from being flipped over, now hovering over the other young man with his hands against the mattress on either side of his head. He forgot how this felt, being in control. A rush of confidence sparked through him, sitting up straight to look down at Alois, a calm but devious look in his eyes.

Ciel slowly ran his fingertips under Alois’ jaw, placing his first two fingers against his lips. “Open.“ He commanded, slipping his two fingers into the other’s mouth and against his tongue, coating them in slick saliva. “I forgot how lovely you look like this..” He teased, grinning as he pressed his fingers down against the pad of Alois’ tongue, admiring the seal that was barely visible.

Alois heeded the command, parting his lips eagerly. The seal of his contract appeared as if a latent burn mark, branded but inactive as ever as he waited for his lover to defile it. The act was one of disrespect, wanting his mouth to be used to the fullest extent to coat the mark. The man smiled slightly, wanting nothing more than to be used. 

While he always stayed on top in the past, he felt comfortable letting himself loose only with his love. It had been years since they’d been together, years more since he’d been used last like this. While some memories still burned of the old man and his torture, Ciel would be the only one who could take those memories and light them ablaze. Nights such as these served as his only form of therapy, twisting his old memories into new ones and taking their place.

While distracting Alois with his fingers in his mouth, Ciel thought deeply about how he should go about being in this new position of control. He hadn’t done it like this before, and was wracking his brain for memories of things Alois had done to him. This was the perfect opportunity to give his lover a taste of his own medicine.

And suddenly, he had a wonderful idea. He stifled a small laugh, sneering as he removed his now soaked fingers from Alois’ mouth. In what looked like one swift movement from Alois’ love drunk point of view, Ciel scooched down the bed, lifting each of Alois’ legs over his shoulders and pulling him close by his thighs. “Relax for me, love,” he cooed, pressing an eager digit to his lover’s entrance. Remembering the initial discomfort he usually felt during this, he made sure to stimulate him in other ways, squeezing the other’s thigh with his free hand and licking gently at his member. He kept his gaze locked firmly on Alois’ face, studying him for any hint of pain or pleasure as he slowly massaged his finger inside of him, deeper and deeper until he reached his second knuckle.

With a sharp gasp, the man pressed into it, growing dizzy. While painful, no one else ever took so much care with his body. It hurt, but in the best kind of way; pain morphed into pleasure, heat growing in his abdomen. Letting out a soft moan, Alois closed his eyes tightly, breathing through any of the remaining pain. 

The man wanted to lose complete control underneath the other, relaxing as his fingers tied knots of the silken sheets and sweat beading on his chest. Drunk on love was a look that suited him flawlessly, arching his back into it and giving himself up to the mercy of the moment. He grew harder, heartbeats siphoning blood to the region and heard through the silence now only they punctured. 

“F…. fucking hell…”

Watching him carefully through his eyelashes, Ciel left wet kisses along his inner thighs, stopping to bite lightly at the skin. Hearing the other’s comment he couldn’t help but grin, sensing another opportunity for cockiness. “Don’t be so sensitive with me now..” he teased, remembering every time their positions had been switched, with Alois purring in his ear about how sensitive and tightly wound he could be.

Careful not to move too quickly, Ciel massaged in a second finger, this one sliding in a bit easier than the first, He curled them together, gently beginning to move them in and out of the other’s entrance. His free hand ran up, up his thigh and up the side of his torso, eventually finding his hand and interlocking their fingers tightly. “I’m never this quiet,” he smirked, pushing his fingers in just a bit deeper. “Let me hear you..”

Neither am I, he thought, not when I’m faking. That was just it, wasn’t it though. This time, Alois was actually embarrassed by how desperate he’d gotten for this brat. While familiar with the feeling, he wasn’t used to his heartbeat quickening this much, the heat in his stomach growing so much. Everything without him had just been a release, and only satisfied when he could block out Jean’s body. Thank god their faces were similar, but their personalities held different appeal. The man inside him now, for example, was one he loved. 

With another thrust, he was driven close to the edge. A louder moan escaped him, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. Sticky-sweet bliss coursed through his whole body, feeling as though he had been dipped into syrup with how lost in paradise he was becoming. His fingers tightened into the sheets, pulling them off the other side of the bed as he allowed another moan to escape.

“You make such pretty noises..” He hummed, sucking a dark bruise into the inside of Alois’ thigh. He continued twisting and thrusting his fingers into him, curling them and trying to ensure he was relaxed. It wouldn’t be pleasing for either of them if it wasn’t.

Planting a quick kiss on his thigh, Ciel gently removed his fingers, sitting himself up and pulling Alois’ legs around his hips, securing them there. His chest rose and fell as he took deep breaths, trying to push aside the nervousness he felt in this moment. A final look at the blond’s face caused him to relax completely, feeling the heat between their bodies grow hotter. He swallowed hard, leaning in to kiss his lover passionately.

Pulling away so they were just centimeters apart, Ciel gazed into the eyes of Alois, exhausted and aroused. “Stop me if it hurts..” He whispered softly, remembering how Alois always said something along those lines to him when the positions were switched.

Ciel gently stroked himself a few times, stifling soft moans before pressing the tip of his member to Alois’ entrance, moving as slowly as he could as he began to push inside. A low groan melted from his lips, feeling the tight heat surround his member. It was almost enough to send him over the edge just like this, but he was determined to hold on. Steadier now, he placed his palms over Alois’ locking their fingers together on either side of his head against the mattress.

Wincing slightly, he exhaled sharply as he felt the other enter. It did hurt, of course, but he could relax into it in a way he hadn’t been able to with his replacement. It had been years however, since he’d done anything like this, and he was tighter than he used to be. Held down by his palms, he struggled to clear the brain fog that made him feel drunk. 

Eyes watering at the remnants of pain, he let himself ease into the pleasure. The heat in his abdomen grew, placing him right on the edge of the cliff. The man moaned repeatedly at every thrust, leaving his mouth open so as not to worry about it as much as he was prior. The room grew louder and hotter and he felt himself edging so close to release, fingers holding tightly through the other’s. 

After only minutes, Alois felt the pressure burst, arching back into the bed in ever-fleeting bliss. The moment made him feel lightheaded, all the blood rushing to the area and leaving him a succulent mess. Embarrassed, he released his fingers to wind tightly together behind his lover’s back. “Fuck you…” He sighed, an echoing release rocking his body again.

Upon feeling his body relax, Ciel picked up his pace a bit, thrusting rhythmically into his lover. Soft gasps and low groans tumbled from his lips, his brows furrowing as sweat beaded along his rosy forehead.

Only minutes later did the rhythm he found begin to fumble, his thrusts becoming less precise and more desperate. He leaned over Alois’ body, gripping the sheets above his head as the other wrapped tightly around his back. The knot in his lower abdomen pulled, tighter and tighter until the rope snapped, forcing his blissful release inside of Alois. He shuddered, his hips still slowly rocking as he rode out his high, looking down at the mess Alois had left all over his lower stomach.

Ciel barely had any energy left, his muscles quivering slightly as he rested on top of the other man, yet to pull out. He chuckled softly at Alois’ feisty words, peppering the side of his face and neck with soft kisses. “You loved it..” Ciel hummed into his ear.

After taking a few deep breaths, Ciel moved to pull out, both of them flinching a bit as he did so, followed by a relaxed sigh. He knew they had cleaning up to do, but he decided it could wait a few more minutes. The power high he had felt was dying down now as he curled up against Alois’ side, resting his head on his lover’s chest and listening to his heart. It felt as though a part of him had been fulfilled, like an incomplete puzzle finally placing the last puzzle piece after years of being incomplete. Alois Trancy was his missing puzzle piece.

“Mm…” Alois hummed ,closing his eyes and holding his lover close. “Irrelevant.” He teased, looking over. He poked one finger into Ciel’s red hot cheek, causing the other man’s face to shrink for a moment. The expression made him chuckle lightly, all tension gone between the two. It was a childish gesture, calling back to the years they spent apart and tying the time together. It was as if they’d never been apart to being with, the shedded years as irrelevant as the comment.

The taller man turned his head, nuzzling into Ciel’s neck. “I just want you to know,” he began softly, “you have no one to compete with.” 

He wondered just how much his past affair bugged the other man, though he hoped not at all. Jean had looked nearly the same, spoke the same, and shared most mannerisms. Yet, he held the knowledge to be true that the comparison was never truly there. Nights were desperate in a different way, as if he had to prove himself time and time again. Both men had grown up beside Alois, but Alois had never grown out of London, rather leaving a piece of himself here that he was able to gain back in these sickly sweet nothings.

Ciel closed his eyes, nuzzling deeper into the embrace and wrapping his arms around Alois. He wrapped a strand of blond hair around his finger, twisting it gently.

The sudden confession took him by surprise, his eyes opening although he didn’t move. He was surprisingly not angry or hurt in the slightest. The two of them were not only living under different circumstances, one of them actively engaged and the other free to do as he pleased, but they also handled their pain quite differently. Ciel tended to shrink away from the world and wallow in silence, muting any emotion he felt until it passed. Alois would act out in a number of ways, grabbing onto anything he could to chase a new feeling that would distract him from the pain.

“I know..” he whispered, lifting his head to look at Alois, still playing with his hair. “I do, I know..”

The two Earls shared that moment, looking into each other’s eyes and reaching a silent understanding that they would be okay, that the past didn’t matter and whatever happened in the last eight years wasn’t something they could change. They laid there awhile longer, snuggling close and sharing the occasional kiss, before eventually rising from the bed to clean one another. Ciel felt both pride and pity at the sight of Alois struggling to sit up, hiding a snicker as he helped clean him up.

Their bodies cooled down, no longer out of breath and coated in a layer of sweat. They pulled the silky covers over themselves, resting their heads comfortably in the folds of the pillows, still clinging to one another as if they feared the other would disappear before morning.

Tied together, all worries dissipated in the fog of the London night. They were finally alone, even if it were for only a night or two here and there. As grown men, they knew they were both on borrowed time even more so than as teens. Any moment outside this manor or this room could endanger either one, and yet they were perfectly calm. Falling asleep now, the blonde was sure to hide in his lover’s chest, letting darkness cover him completely. Pain from long ago didn’t touch him here, sewing up the lost edges of their love story.

[ask-de-writer]

Genii’s Junk (1 part) – A tale of the Bizarre Borderland

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to the Bizarre Borderland

GENII’S JUNK

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

© 2014 by Glen Ten-Eyck

2581 words

Writing begun 06/19/14

From an idea by Alte Seely, who wondered what a Bizarre Borderland junk yard would be like.

All rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan activity including but not limited to art, stories, musical compositions, plays or anything else is ACTIVELY ENCOURAGED.

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There were a few old, gnarled trees out in front. The building itself was totally unremarkable. Just an old, cheap sheet metal structure. The peeling, sun-faded sign read “Genii’s Junk – Worth anything or not, I buy it or sell it. If you need it, I have it. But it may need work!”

I parked in the shade of one of the trees and strolled into the slight gloom of the cool interior. There were dozens of racks holding the multitude of things that Genii wanted to keep out of the weather. The sun in Border County is infamous for destroying anything that it shines on, if it shines long enough.

It had obviously not shone on Genii enough to do any harm! Lovely young looking lady. Appearances are deceiving. She is lovely enough to look at, yes. Young? Define your terms. I know for a fact that she helped to found the Ottoman Empire. Lady? Try calling her human if you want an earfull of excellent profanity without a single sleazy four letter word.

Like everyone in North or South America, if you trace back far enough, there are immigrants in the woodwork. Genii is one, sort of. She has been in the same location since at least 1530. That is the year, not the time on a 24 hour clock.

She told me herself that Cortez was one cranky customer.

Today, there was a slight individual with a large head hidden by a bigger hat at the counter. Genii had the oscilloscope and a big, hundred function multimeter out on the counter and three big power leads with clamps and adapters.

A long, too many jointed finger pointed at a stud on the device sitting on the counter. His (?) somewhat squeaky voice demanded, “Positive One go here! Not over there, stupid human!”

Genii’s lovely face curled into a snarl, showing her many fangs. “Watch who you call HUMAN, you gray trash!”

Settling some, she explained patiently, as if to a retarded three year old, “This is the anti-gee element of a 1942 Star Sweeper. From 1951 on, you are right. For any earlier models, if you want to do that test hookup, put your gold on the counter now. You will not be alive to give it to me later but you WILL have destroyed the unit.

“This is from one of the two that US Airforce took down outside of Roswell in 1947.” She turned to a LONG shelf of manuals and other books that sat on top of the massive number of scroll pigeon holes. Taking down a much thumbed manual, she expertly flipped through pages and pointed to a picture for the customer.

“There. Manufacturer’s Manual for the 1942 Star Sweeper. Hookup diagram and warnings…” The Gray examined the manual in something like shock.

“Where you get this? I give you two pound gold for it.”

With a sour expression Genii pointed over her shoulder at a sign in at least a hundred languages. One of them was the same as the one in the book. It read, “NO WRITTEN MATERIALS FOR SALE AT ANY PRICE!”

He (?) started to say something more, while trying to put the manual under his (?) coat. Genii, with a disgusted look, leaped over the counter like an acrobat. She hit the customer with both feet at shoulder level, flattening him (?). She took back the manual and hopped back across the counter to put it away.

She also took the device off the counter and lifted the oscilloscope back to its rack of test equipment.

The test leads and other gear went neatly back to their places. Brightening, she turned to me.

“What can I do for you today, Jimmy?”

Flipply I replied, “You could sell me your bottle, my dear, but I have heard a rumor that your personal home is not for sale.

“Actually, I was looking for a carpet. Something that isn’t a Belgian knock-off of a real carpet.”

Lighting up, she asked, “Hand loomed and knotted or machine made?”

“Hand knotted, I think, Genii.”

“What about a dubious one? I have one out on Aisle 34, about a four or five hundred yards down. I’ll loan you a yard wand to get you there. It is between the NC-2 and the De Haviland bomber. There is a rack there. I am sure that you will have no trouble finding it.

I snickered. “Anything on YOUR aircraft rows is fun. What do you have that is new to you?”

Genii grinned in delight. How about an X-B70? It needs a little work!”

I chortled, and asked, “Which aisle? I should have no trouble seeing a Valkyrie if it is anything like reassembled.”

Genii handed me a wooden pole with a wide bicycle type seat and handlebars on it. With a grin, she said, “Aisle 36! Have fun!”

Leaving the disgruntled Gray behind, I took the handlebars, activating the “Yard Stick” and took off. In only moments, I found the Aisle 34 marker and swooped around the turn, scooting down the Aisle.

The NC-2 was a great locator. The giant WW I sea-going biplane was totally intact. It had a 103 foot wingspan. For wood and wire technology there were few that ever matched its sheer size and NONE that could match it for range and load.

It was meant to launch in Maine and fly antisubmarine patrol all the way to the Florida keys, non-stop. The Great War ended before it and its three sister aircraft were finished.

Congress canceled the contract without payment. Curtis (the C of NC-2) went ahead and finished all four planes on their own dime, while Congressmen all got on the “They will never fly” and “defrauding the War Department” band wagons. When all four launched from the factory in Virginia and flew up to Maine, the world was astounded.

When they refueled, they took on as passengers those few Congressmen and Navy personnel still championing the NCs as practical aircraft. They then flew, non-stop to the Florida Keys, exactly as designed, except that they were carrying almost a 20% overload in passengers, instead of bombs and depth charges. That feat blew away the whole world at the time.

It also shut up the NC program critics more effectively than if they had been hit by the bombs that the planes were designed to carry. Congress quietly tried to pass Curtis the money that they were due, so that the US Navy could claim the aircraft.

Later, the four made a trans Atlantic Flight. The NC-1 disappeared in thunderstorms. Some wreckage was found. The NC-3 was forced down at sea. It was taxiing on only two engines when found. The tow to the Azores caused enough damage to the plane that it could not continue.

The NC-2 got to the Azores a day before the NC-4. It refueled. The weather being good, it took off for Lisbon and was never seen again. The NC-4 landed in the Azores, refueled and later landed safely in Lisbon harbor, the first airplane to fly the Atlantic. It is now in the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum.

I made a note to ask Genii how she managed to get the NC-2 and set my yardstick down by the rack of carpets. They followed that old law, 90% of everything is crap.

Genii, as usual, was right about it not being hard to find the one that she had spoken of. It had a clearly later, and phony, Antwerp label sewed on. The work had been carelessly done. The metal needle used to sew the label on had damaged the port side lift and control spells, unless my Pocket Dowse and Spell Strength meter was wrong. Judging by the fringe and warp damage, it must have been some crash.

As I rolled up the carpet and strapped it to the Yardstick, I heard a warning siren. It was coming from the vicinity of the X-B70, whose huge nose and forward canards jutted above the intervening aircraft.

No chance to look at it, then. I headed back in to the shop. I got there just before the unearthly scream of the six monster jet engines being fired up. It sounded like the X-B70 was a live bird. If Genii was going to that much trouble, she very likely had a cash customer for it. I wondered who it was.

Sometimes Genii would talk about customers and sometimes not. It was never wise to pry. There was someone new at the counter. The Gray was still there. Still complaining.

Genii turned her back on him and told him, “You are right. I did not sell to you. I will not sell to you. You tried to shoplift PRINTED MATERIAL from ME! I have not let any written things go since Caesar screwed up our deal and BURNED the Library at Alexandria! You have only seconds left to get out of here alive! Go!” She was reaching under the counter when the Gray left - - at a waddling run.

Turning to the new man at the counter, she smiled very professionally and asked, “Sorry about the scene, General. What can I do for the Air Force today?”

Self-importantly, he replied, “What was that? It sounded like a jet engine test!”

Serenely, which is a bad sign with Genii, because it means that she is absolutely certain of her legal footing, Genii replied, “It was. X B-70 engine test. Starboard #2 engine began to develop vibration, so we aborted the test.

“It is ALL covered in my salvage contract. Do you need a copy?”

Sourly, the General replied, “Why bother? You can’t sell it if it is operational. Mass weapon laws.”

Smiling with her fangs but not her lovely eyes, Genii replied, “Loophole big enough to fly a carpet through, General. If I am not selling it on Earth, the laws don’t apply. I am not selling it anywhere that you have any authority.”

Voice hardening and chilling some, like maybe a glacier, she asked, “Do you have any actual business here?”

“Where are those ten computer stabilization systems that we ordered!” More a demand than a question. Bad way to make points with Genii.

Her face froze. “I have been forced to cut off all credit to the United States Armed Services. Proper notices were sent according to the contract. The reason given is failure to render payment of the agreed form or amount. Further, the Military Procurement Office has sent formal notice of refusal to pay and stated that I will receive only 1/10th of the outstanding total and that only by a check drawn on the Government.

“This has totally canceled our contracts and agreements. I filed a notice of repossession for all of the following items.”

She fished out a file box and gave the thunderstruck general a list. She also handed him a file of correspondence.

“That file and notice are copies of the originals. You may keep them or return them. Neither you nor any other armed service gets anything until I have my gold on the counter.”

I will give the General this. He took the whole file and settled himself at a large table. He began at the front and started working though it. Soon he was on a cell phone.

I was walking beside the Yardstick, guiding it with the handlebars. I brought it up to the counter and asked, “Got a Merlin S-multimeter, Genii? I want to check this out pretty carefully. I am certain that this is a Second Caliphate carpet but as near as my Pocket Dowse can show, the counterfeit label was sewed in with an Iron or Steel needle.

“Looks like that caused the control failure that made it crash.” I shook my head at foolishness. “Can you believe knowing enough to get a carpet like this and then sewing in the phony label for tax dodging with a steel needle? It shorted or blew out all the port side lift and control spells.”

Genii grinned hugely which showed off her big fangs wonderfully. She hopped across the counter again. She had five different willow wands and a very well worn Merlin in her hands.

She helped me to unroll the carpet. I showed her the weave and fringe damage that led me to think that the carpet had collided with something pretty solid at high speed.

Genii nodded agreement and plugged the biggest of the wands into the Merlin. Between us, we made sure that the original starboard spells were all intact.

The port side was a total loss. Between that steel needle and the impact damage that distorted the weave, and with it the spells, it was going to have to be totally reworked from fringe to fringe.

She looked up, shaking her head. “I got this out of the Lord Carleton Estate. I just paid a flat fee for it all. I was pretty sure of what this was but that was a LOT of stuff to sort. Drove my Yard Imps nuts.

“I just set it over in aircraft and hoped for the best. You lucked out, Jimmy. This IS a genuine and restorable Second Caliphate. I already have it priced.

“Yours for only five ounces.” She grinned again. I may be weird but I like Genii’s grin, fangs and all. She was holding out her hand.

Like a true gentleman, I dropped in three one troy ounce Krugerands and two Chinese Pandas. Genii, being Genii, closed her hand about them. When she opened it, the coins were gone and a receipt was in their place. It looked for all the world like a magic trick. Which it was. Real. Not slight of hand.

With the General expostulating fiercely into his phone in the background, Genii helped me roll the carpet snugly and secure it with straps for transport.

Carpet over my shoulder, I walked to the door. Looking out, the Gray and a companion were going over my rig, big jumper cables in hand.  They were trailing down from the nearly antique Type A saucer hovering overhead,. They were trying to find the hookup points for a jump-start. One was gabbling in Gray, “No Anti-gravity! How it fly?”

Door partly open, I called back inside, “Genii! The Grays are trying to swipe my rig from your parking lot!”

Snaring her fiercest, Genii came barreling out past me. She had what looked like a shotgun in hand. The double boom sounded like a shotgun all right. The result was not your normal shot shell hit on the tough hull alloy of the Type A saucer overhead.

The blue fire blast was something to behold. A visible hole about a foot across started to trail smoke most impressively. The saucer tilted some and sailed across Genii’s Yard Fence. A few moments later the array of crashes and the crunch of failing metal announced the end of the saucer, and probably, some expensive junk. The Grays ran like rabbits while Genii was reloading. Definitely not normal shotgun ammo.

I stowed my find and climbed under the cloth sunshade of my rig and, taking out my control wand, lifted my old Mohgul Carpet and took off for home. As I flew, I reflected that if Genii had lost some junk in the crash, she had gained a whole, nearly intact Type A saucer for salvage. I think that she was going to come out ahead. As usual.

–THE END–

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to the Bizarre Borderland

[crqstalite]

pt. 9, into the lion’s den pt. 2 (andronikos && mierrio)

mierrio and tri’ama have arrived on the scene, but not exactly on good terms with each other. what kind of shenanigans will they get up to this time?

psa: i love my imperial toons but one thing they all have in common is some sort of abusive backstory. it’s like a requirement to be part of the empire and it was never intended.

another psa: pretta n kal were made for the sole purpose of romancing theron (kal at least).

another psa: fandom, please write more andronikos fanfictions. i would do it myself but then all of tumblr would know of my insane exploits with mierrio n her pirate husband. i’m deprived of them n i need them now. ════ ⋆★⋆ ════

character song: truth hurts, lizzo

character file: darth nox, mierrio revel

-

“i always did hate alderaan.” ashara shivers as she pulls her robes over her tighter. mierrio would have to get the fury’s temperature regulator fixed, and soon. hopefully, that was one of andronikos’ talents, because the three humans (and one non-human) suffered through the cold nights, unlike the nearly silent kaleesh and dashade.“now we have to stay here?”

“if it bothers you so much, bulk up on thermal clothing.” mierrio says, putting on her own thermal coat. force user or not, darth nox wasn’t exactly made for the cold, and she secretly despises this trip just as much as her apprentice does. given, she and her husband did all sorts of things that could get her blood rushing, whether in the bedroom or on the battlefield, and considering they were on a war-filled planet (political and physical), she’d get plenty of both. she smirked before hiding it behind a cough at the thought. “it’s only for a week.”

“plus, you’ll be on the fury most of the time anyways.” talos says absentmindedly, researching something while khem val milled around the cargo hold before disappearing into the darkness. talos side steps the kaleesh as he passes by with some sort of ancient tablet, muttering something in anothr language. “we both will.”

“i figure that, but if i ever need anything i’ll have to leave the ship.” the togruta responds, groaning inwardly. “why are we here again?”

“peace talks, or somethin’. you two are lucky, you’re not the escort.” andronikos responds from the sofa. “dealin’ with sith day in and day out, questionin’ why ‘someone like you’ is with a dark council member.” he shrugs as mierrio considers this. he’s not inaccurate, though she figures it something she needs to take up with her fellow sith. her pirate, her rules, and they didn’t get a say in who she chose to love. not when she was one of the most powerful sith in the room. “when are we leaving, by the way?” he asks, turning to her.

“we can leave now, they have our room ready.” she says. subsequently, he gets up as she picks up her bag and slings it over her shoulder. she really should tie her hair up, it’s getting annoyingly long so that it hangs in front of her face if she bends over to tie her boots. however, mierrio is also aware of just how childish it looks tying up the baby hairs in the back, and chooses to suffer instead. letting the bridge down, she steps out into the spaceport’s spacious hangar. ashara isn’t wrong, it’s relatively chilly even through her coat. but, alderaan is absolutely beautiful as long as you’re not in a warzone. she intends to visit any vacation spot she can while on this godforsaken trip.

a few moments later as she scrolls through her datapad (the details give her a headache, if the wrath wasn’t also attending, she might as well skip out completely), she feels an arm snake around her waist as she stumbles backwards into her husband’s arms. “we’re really headin’ into the lion’s den, huh sith?” he asks after helping her stand straight, they begin walking in the direction of the elevator.

“are you scared, andronikos?” she asks, curving her lip upwards in a barely concealed smile. she’s completely aware of what her so called 'kind’ can do, especially to someone as force blind as her husband. they aren’t feared by the republic for nothing.“what’s the worst they can do?”

he doesn’t seem amused as she runs a hand through her hair, slipping the datapad back into her bag among her other things. “uh, sith? did you miss the whole 'force sensitive’ and 'could murder me with a pinky?’ part?”

“i haven’t killed you yet.” she says, leaning her head into the crook of his neck as they enter the elevator. he rolls his dark colored eyes good naturedly as she chuckles to herself. she couldn’t ever imagine lying a hand on her husband. well, she could, they sparred from time to time (she of course, gained the upper hand nearly instantly. but sometimes he played dirty in the best ways, in which she’d have to call a draw), but in a real fight she’d never do so. seeing a look of genuine terror from him was something mierrio had yet to witness.

“yet?” he asks, mock concerned as he puts a hand on his chest. “what, you plannin’ this pirate’s death already?”

“i’d never.” mierrio responds jokingly, stepping out of the elevator into the busy atrium of the alderaanian spaceport. “and should they lay a hand upon you, i shall show them why i am darth nox.” she gives him what she attempts to make a comforting smile that turns into an ill-intended smirk. nobles mill about as they make their way outside, dressed in an array of colors and array of styles, and she makes a mental note to do some shopping before they leave. andronikos doesn’t see, but her heart nearly stops as she witnesses a human with what seems as a stick in his hands ten or so feet away. three females follow close behind, and she’s halfway to shocking the man once she realizes that the silver metal sticking out of one of the women’s collars is none other than a shock collar. her delicate hands go for her own neck as the red twi'lek woman stops to look at her, staring out over the crowd. there’s inelligible yelling for a moment before she collapses to the ground in uncontrollable shaking and mierrio’s breath hitches.

“mier?” andronikos puts a hand on her shoulder as she jolts her attention back to the issue at hand. the twi'lek woman and her captor disappear into the background of the taxi pad, and in a moment of fear, her hand goes for her lightsaber and another hand on andronikos’.

“i-i’m fine.” her voice hardens unintentionally, once she catches his eye, loosening her grip on her lightsaber. sparks fly for a moment as she buries her hands in her coat, anger flowing through her veins for the young woman in physical and metaphorical chains. she had just been talking about wounding andronikos, nearly shocking him in her panic. “just fine.”

the dark skinned pirate looks at her in mild confusion and then concern. his gaze meets where hers had been, but he didn’t catch the slavemaster or didn’t say anything. shrugging, he pays for their taxi and they’re off across the plains of kaamos territory. he’s talking, but it keeps getting swept away by not only the wind, but also her own intrusive thoughts.

mierrio wasn’t a slave without scars. electrocution wasn’t unusual, and the skin on her neck reflects it. purple veins run along her throat, and though they’ve faded, some have alluded to her that they flare when she uses high voltage.

the weight of the collar, the chance of being put back into one of those things. the breath that is stolen from her when electricity flows through her veins.

the body of her previous master, after she turned it on him. after a particular electrocution event on balmorra with an imperial officer, in two seconds flat purple lightning escaped her fingertips. he writhed on the floor, gasping out for help as he took his dying breaths. she, of course, stole his jacket to warm her cold body in the outpost of sobrik, her fifteen year old self playing with the shiny medals that adorned his jacket as the last of life left his body.

at least until the mysterious sith came for her, as she ate the last box of chocolate the man had stashed away for his whore of a wife. three days, she’d stayed there, afraid should anyone know of her crime that they’d kill her. turn her into a prison, torture her.

she was still scared of herself, as sparks leapt from her fingers every once in a while.

someone had turned her in as a force sensitive, and years later, she suspected it was the officer or as previously mentioned, his wife. the cameras had watched her every move for years, it was hard to believe they weren’t watching then.

the teenage inquisitor hadn’t understood what she’d done, the man she had killed. she was free of this master, for good. mierrio hadn’t known she was force sensitive, she didn’t know just how powerful she was. what lurked just beneath the surface of her dark intentions, a mystical force bubbling up through her fingers.

even so, it’s not as if she can escape her past. this is who she is, and she doesn’t intend to let anyone put another leash on her. metaphorical, or physical.

she must look so absolutely angry that andronikos stops talking after a while. he’s gotten good at that, knowing when sometime is a bad time. as it stands, he’s recognized this time as one, though she’s sure he’ll want to know what’s wrong with her once they get to their room in the palace. over the nice temperature regulated bedroom and changed into a nice set of pajamas, she’s sure she’ll admit to whatever she’s feeling at the moment. but the cool wind whips her chapped lips, and she returns to the issue at hand. thul peace talks.

eventually, they land in the palace courtyard. the scene isn’t much different from the spaceport, except much, much busier. dark robes brush by as her boots crunch in the snow. she figures other sith lords have arrived before she has (of course, a fashionably late interest is the usual for darth nox). she looks around for a moment as she unbuckles her belt, andronikos stepping out of the taxi.

and, a certain blonde sith is waiting  by the courier droid with her name written out. mierrio groans in annoyance, as the wrath shifts her position to cross her arms. respirator, boots and all, she stands at a haughty 5"6 draped in black armor, three inches taller than her. she allows andronikos to take her hand and help her out of the taxi as the droid takes their bags, standing face to face with the imposing female. “my lord.” the blonde sith curtly nods.

“wrath.” she says just as coldly. mierrio hadn’t had many good interactions with a lot of sith on the council (nor a lot of interactions, like a certain darth hexid she prefers the finer things in life instead of the general stupidity and betrayal of the council), and the wrath happened to be one of them. insanely powerful with the force (though not a sorceror), the wrath was apparently a shoo in at the academy, and was an apprentice of the late darth baras.

and subsequently, his killer.

many assumed that she was a man, given her strong stature and less, say, assets in the female department. however, those who had come into contact with the brutish warrior had quickly fallen back on their gender-lined insults. funnily enough, she was eventually married to none other than an intelligence agent, even though some lower ranked sith lords assumed she was a butch lesbian due to her personality and the fact she never lasted in relationships with men. they placed bets on how long they would last, and mierrio was still collecting on the bets they’d last only for a few weeks at best. it’d been four years.

and, at the end of it all, she had the audacity to be merciful. merciful to those that didn’t deserve it. what sith would be such a way? and why? why have so much power, and not use it to instill fear into the galaxy?

given, this was all based off gossip, but she often didn’t have much else to be doing, so it entertained her to an extent. well, most of it was. she’d been assigned to a post with the wrath on taris, and she disapproved of every choice she made. for quite a bit, she made it her mission to corrupt ashara just to spite the merciful sith lord. it was somewhat successful, though her corruption only went as far as to be a 'grey jedi’.

to rub it in, down the grapevine she found that the wrath had managed to corrupt a jedi padawan to the dark side. successfully, and with little resistance! kriffing hell, mierrio was just that sure she’d only done it to spite her.

“your room has been prepared for your stay. i have been assigned to escort you to the palace.” the woman says, garbled a bit through her respirator. mierrio had yet to find out why she wore the thing (it was an ugly shade of grey and black with highlights of red, and she wasn’t suffering from some uncurable cancer eating away at her lungs), but possibly she wore it as a decorative piece. there were no current family members (other than a certain malavai quinn) related to the wrath, so it was most definitely not ornamental.

and how she knew? well, the family of the wrath would be well compensated, given their daughter having such a high rank in the sith order. they’d be public by now. and they’re not.

“thank you, wrath. but i did not need an escort into the palace, i’ve been here before.” she responds, hooking her arm onto andronikos’. “i’m sure you have something else to be bothering yourself with, so get on with it.”

“..of course, my lord.” the colbalt blue eyes harden into that of dark sapphire (a sign of her unwilling submission) as mierrio passes. the wrath crosses her arms before heading back the other direction.

“you want to talk about that?” andronikos asks as she pulls him along inside the palace, a bit more forcefully than intended, “i thought all you sith were chummy with each other.”

“darth thanaton?” she raises an eyebrow once she lets go of his arm, pushing a curl of dark hair behind her ear as she sheds her thermal coat. “andronikos, unlike the jedi council, we do not do 'friends’. we make alliances to better our power bases, and the wrath is on my list of people i want no alliance with.”

“got a reason? he seems nice enough.” there’s a groan of possible jealousy behind that she chooses to ignore, as he misgenders the sith, “given, not every man is as nice as me.”

“that was not a 'he’, that is the emperor’s wrath.” she responds, as they wade through the crowded lobby. it seems as if every servant in the palace has come down to gawk at the arriving sith lords, and she unintentionally picks up the pace to hurry to the elevator. it’s not until her boots are clicking on the polished floor of the relatively quiet third floor that she slows down.

“what’s got your panties in a twist, mier? did she do something to you?” he asks, as the enter the finely decorated room. locking the door behind her, he sheds his own coat as her fingers tap over the electronic thermostat. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you receive a sith so badly.”

“that’s because i rarely 'receive’ sith unless i need to. are you not aware of the lack of sith we visit?” she asks, as she stretches a crick out of her neck, skipping his unanswered question. it’s not long before andronikos descends upon her, arms wrapped around her waist as he nips at the exposed skin of her neck as she pushes her hair to the opposite side of her head. “don’t fret, i’ve only ever had eyes for you.”

“glad to hear it.” his voice grows husky as she turns to face him, kissing him roughly. she’s not per se calmer than she was before landing or arriving to the palace (andronikos sadly doesn’t always have that effect on her), but the rush of endorphins is enough to forget the day’s earlier events. “hate to think there’s someone else out there with eyes for you.”

“i’ll always belong to you, first and foremost.” as the words leave her lips, she regrets them. mierrio despises the idea of ever 'belonging’ to someone ever again. she’d like to say that it doesn’t apply to andronikos, that’s he’s her one, handsome exception.

but he’s not. she’s terrified she’s going to wake up one day and she’s going to be married to a man who would take advantage of her at every turn. that this marriage is going to turn into a relationship of abuse.

although they both have issues with commitment, she lets the moment happen. he must notice her hesitation, because he doesn’t press any further. "nikky, as much as i love you, i do have responsibilities to the council. i’ve arrived late as it is.“

he mock whines, not letting her go, but allowing her enough space to lean her forehead to his. "it’s the middle of the afternoon, what do you mean sith?”

“we’re nearly two days late. we should’ve left a couple of days ago, hence why the wrath came to get us.” she responds. “peace talks have already begun, and to be honest, i would’ve skipped it if darth vowrawn didn’t send me a nice holo saying i should be here already.” he seemed quite stern with her when the recorded holo was sent, and she figured it wasn’t worth losing her council seat if she had to spend a few days on the wartorn planet. what could she say? being a darth who not only rid the galaxy of a body-hopping sith, but also thanaton? she liked the perks that came with being feared.

“alright, alright.” he lets go of her, a mischeveous grin on her face. “doesn’t mean you’re leaving me here all by my lonesome tonight, right mier?”

“alderaan has some beautiful sights, we can visit the market tonight, then the cantina.” he seems confused by her answer as she winces trying to undo her bra from under her shirt. “then, we’ll see what this bed can handle.”

he chuckles. “alright sith. arm still bothering you?”

“oh, how did you know?” she asks, frowning. she’d worn the lacy thing on the flight down with no intention of actually taking it off, but she figured if she were going to a peace talk meeting, she’d like it plenty better if her breasts weren’t constantly chafing on the old lingerie. “would you unhook it for me?”

“don’t have to ask me twice.”

-

she ended up twenty minutes late for the next portion of the peace talks, but a lot happier than she would’ve been should she not have taken a pit stop in her bedroom before coming to conference room. sith outside whispered here and there, and of course the thul nobles were nothing short of oblivious as she arrived. choosing a seat next to an empty seat, everyone quieted. “nox, it’s good to see you here.” a silent 'finally’ was aired at the end of vowran’s sentence.

“of course. i would never miss such an important meeting.” she smiles knowingly as the other sith frowns.

“well, we were just discussing your portion of earning thul’s trust.” ravage responds, picking up the awkwardly finished conversation. “as darth of ancient knowledge, you’ll be assisting them with the damages caused by a certain…bounty hunter years prior. identify what you can, as others have mentioned they can sense a datacron in the area.”

her ears perk up. a datacron? given, she’s never had the best luck with ancient artifiacts (see: zash, talos, force ghosts trying to take over her body etc, etc.), but to gain ancient knowledge is absolutely fascinating. she’s not looking for another tenant in her body, but possibly this one will be friendly. “show alde’s curators you’re willing to help them, and forge an alliance with them if you can.”

“great.” she sits a bit straighter, assignment gained. now she can go and spend the rest of the night very far from here. “can i leave now?”

“the wrath hasn’t arrived.” her mood drops considerably at the mention of the female sith, who is just perfectly, missing at the moment. her eye twitches at the thought.

“the wrath? what does she have to do with this?” she chuckles coldly.

“why, she’ll be assisting you with this mission. you specialize in ancient history, and if your reputation does not precede you, then the wrath will strike some much needed fear into them.” vowran finishes. mierrio is quite sure that he knows of their unofficial rivalry, and is pitting them against each other.

“finding a datacron? is that what i heard you say?” it’s twitching, it’s most definitely twitching as she turns to see the blonde sith walk inside, blue eyes twinkling with mischief as she sits down in the chair next to her. “it sounds like a wonderful assignment, vowran.”

they discuss back and forth their current plans as mierrio counts down the seconds until she can escape the dark and stuffy room. usually she feeds off the dark energy she gains by just being around the dark council’s chambers on korriban, but she just feels nauseously full. it’s not too much to handle, it’s just not wanted.

when they do finally break for an intermission, she’s considering leaving and not coming back. however, she is no match for the wrath’s 5"6 frame, as she easily catches up with her, voice cool and smooth. as kriffing always. “nox, leaving so early?”

“might as well throw myself out the airlock. datacron or not, i don’t intend to spend these peace talks playing matchmaker with you.” she continues walking, speeding up her pace as the wrath only lengthens her stride.

“i think it will be a wonderful excursion, nox.” mierrio can’t tell whether she’s smiling or not (she’s still wearing that damned respirator), “alderaan is so nice this time of year, don’t you believe?”

mierrio takes a sharp turn around a corner and unknowingly underneath a low-hanging sign for the cantina nearby. the only stops walking when she hears a loud bang from behind her. whirling around, she smirks as the wrath recoils. she’s hit the top of her head against the bottom of the sign, leaving a nasty red bruise that she quickly covers with her blonde bangs. “let’s see who has the last laugh, wrath.” she says over her shoulder, intending to continue further down the hall. she’ll answer that question, mierrio always has the last laugh. she wasn’t fatally wounded after their battle on corellia, she was part of the dark council long before the wrath ascended to her seat after murdering baras. and of course, mierrio came from so much less and was so much more powerful.

“do you know who i am?” mierrio tries to resist, she really does, but her throat closes as she gasps for air. barely able to turn her head in the desolate hallway, the wrath walks closer to her. “i am a fine tuned killing machine, and i serve the emperor. whether you believe he is an absent landlord or whatnot, you will respect me, nox.”

mierrio hangs there for a second, trying not to panic as tears almost well up in her eyes as she struggles against the metaphorical fist choking her. too many memories flood back from the major choking her as a child, his rough, gloved hands around her neck. the red handmarks he and his wife would leave when they abused her. “understood?”

she refuses to nod, which earns the cocking of an eyebrow from the wrath. “call me power-hungry or arrogant, sure. but i think this is where your path ends, nox. you’re at my mercy, i could snap your neck now and i could get away with it because no one would dare challenge the emperor’s wrath. you were a lowly slave before this, weren’t you?” she pauses, then paces back in the direction she came, colbalt blue eyes hardening, never leaving hers. “so you understand servitude just fine. i suggest you learn your place here and now, before we have another spat like we did on corellia.”

she tightens her grip as mierrio scrapes at her throat, air unable to escape as she coughs. “i can’t say it’s good knowing you, nox. you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side for the last few years.” rolling her own neck, the wrath chooses a spot in front of her to intimidatingly stand before dropping her to the ground. “dark council member or not, you got here through murder. that doesn’t mean you have the talent or the know-how to stay this way.”

“w-would you s-shut your m-mouth? i can smell the kriffing shit from here.” mierrio responds cheekily as the wrath’s eyebrows raise in surprise and possibly humor (did the wrath even have a humorous bone in her body?). “i know my place, and i intend to make it above yours. emperor’s wrath or not, you’re still human. you have a name, you have a husband.” she coughs again. “you can be killed. never forget how fragile life is, wrath.”

“i shall not, and i haven’t, nox. do not ruin this for me, or it will be your head on a platter in the next week.” brushing off her robes, she walks past her. “good day nox, i will see you tomorrow morning. do not be late.”

mierrio watches her walk away (a good distance from the offending sign) as she fills her lungs with air again. fighting on corellia had not ended well, it’d left the wrath with a puncturing hole in her stomach, and mierrio had nearly lost her left arm. to have another, all these years later as dark council members, could easily be fatal for one or the other.

but darth nox, lord kallig, was not about to let fear control her again. the wrath would not get the better of her, again. mierrio revel was stronger than that, and always would be.

and she’d show the arrogant sith that.

[thetravelerwrites]

The Bargain: Genus

Rating: Teen Relationships: Female Human x Male Demon/Elf Additional Tags: Arranged Marriage, Marriage, Demons, Elves, Princes, Princesses, Monster Boyfriend, Monster Husband, Monster Lover Words: 6901

Based on “The Princes” series of shorts written by tumblr user @your-monster-romance, with her permission. Read the Original Shorts Here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Pallidus, Viribus Following Chapters: Gale (NSFW), Fawn (NSFW), Tyria (NSFW), Epilogue

The third brother, Genus, finally meets his betrothed, Gale. Gale rejects the planned wedding outright and is determined to escape, even if she has to ask her so-called future husband for help. Please reblog and leave feedback!

All Gale remembered was getting up from the garden table to look for her sisters, who were taking their sweet time returning to her birthday luncheon, when she stumbled out into the open meadow beyond the castle’s rose garden and fell after stubbing her toe against something solid.

Looking back, she saw that she had tripped over a glittering rose, pink and transparent, that appeared to have been sculpted from crystal. She had never seen anything like it before. It was the kind of thing that would be the jewel of any dragon’s treasure hoard or in a display case of a grand art collection. It looked incredibly out of place, standing straight up out of the ground surrounded by waving grass.

Thinking to show it to her father, who had been acting rather odd lately, she took hold of the seaglass-green stem and attempted to pull it up. It was anchored pretty solidly, so she yanked and ended up snapping the stem from whatever held it beneath the earth with a soft tink!

Then, it was like a small explosion went off all around her. The grass and flowers of the meadow kicked up and swirled around her so fast, it was if she were in a hurricane. She closed her eyes and shielded her face, certain she would open them again to find her gown shredded and cuts all over her skin, but when the deafening noise finally died away, she saw no such thing. She was completely unruffled.

“It’s you!” A voice called suddenly from across the long, dark hallway in which she found herself. A young… man… scurried up to her, dropping a tall stack of enormous books in his haste. He took her hand in both of his, exclaiming, “I can’t believe your finally here! I was giving up hope you’d ever come! I’m so happy to see you!”

“Unhand me! Who are you? What are you?” Gale shouted, her heart pounding, as she wrenched her hand from the grip of the shortish, grey skinned man. If he could be called a man.

He wore spectacles, seemingly an academic type judging by the ink smudges on his hands and the smell of old books that permeated from his skin and clothing. He had on a simple, plain white shirt and natural linen trousers, with his curly black hair hanging down his back in a messy braid. He was mostly clean and pressed, but had the slightly mussed-up, unkempt look of a person not overly concerned with their appearance.

He was rather stout but not muscular, and Gale suspected this was a fellow who spent most of his time sitting down. He was, in fact, rather squishy looking. Although, judging from the enormous stack of books he had been carrying, he possessed considerable strength.

Despite somehow looking like a history professor, his body was quite animalistic in nature. In place of feet, he had cloven hooves like a goat or a deer, and his legs were double jointed and covered in soft black fur from the reverse knee joint down. He had short antlers on his head and a thin tail swinging behind him. His head was just level with Gale’s, perhaps a hair shorter, but his antlers made him appear taller.

His ears were small but pointed and twitched slightly when he smiled. He could also apparently move them backwards and forwards, sticking them out or flattening them against his head like a small creature listening for predators. The whites and irises of his eyes were solid red with small black pupils as their only distinguishing characteristic. It was an odd juxtaposition of features.

He had rushed up to Gale before she had even had the chance to open her eyes, taking her hand and shaking it vigorously, going on about how please he was to finally see her in person as though they were lifelong penpals or some such. His enthusiasm was daunting, and the strangeness of his appearance did nothing to reassure her.

“My name is Genus, my Lady,” He said, bowing. “I’m so happy you’ve come! It’s truly an honor to meet you!” He was practically jumping up and down in excitement. She backed away from him in alarm.

“Gale!”

Gale turned and saw her sister Fawn dashing up, followed by an absolute giant of a man. The giant had similar features as this short, chubby man, except the taller of the two had solid black eyes, a darker skin tone, no tail, and ram’s horns rather than antlers. He trailed after Fawn, who was maybe three-fifths his height, like a lovesick puppy.

Fawn flung herself onto Gale, crying. “I’m so happy you’re here! We missed you so much!”

“What? We? What are you talking about?” Gale asked a little hysterically. “Where is here?”

Instead of answering, Fawn took the giant by the hand and pulled. He knelt down so that she could whisper in his ear. After listening for a moment, he nodded in agreement and she smiled at him, laying a hand on his right cheek and kissing the left. Reluctantly, he slipped out of her grasp, then stood and trotted off.

“He’s going to get Tyria,” Fawn said. She glanced at Genus, who was shifting from foot to foot, with no small amount of sympathy. “We need to talk.”

After a moment or two, Tyria walked up on the arm of another impossible man, this one hauntingly thin and gaunt, with horns spiraling high out of the top of his head decorated with delicate silver chains. He was dressed very rich in green silk and emeralds at his neck and ears. His hair was long and black, and he walked with a graceful swagger. A bit haughty for Gale’s taste, but Tyria seemed quite taken with him. She fussed and picked at his tunic, and he smiled at her fondly.

The giant returned as well, reaching out for Fawn. Gale’s middle sister stepped into the safety of his embrace without hesitation, placing her hands on his chest, her eyes dewy as they looked up at him. He gazed down at her as if she were the only thing that deserved his attention.

Gale looked at both of her sisters as if they, too, had grown horns. “What is going on here? I feel like there’s a joke that everyone is in on except for me.”

“Not much of a joke, I’m afraid,” The tall, gaunt one said. His voice was quite musical. “Although I’m sure my father finds this all rather amusing. He always did have an odd sense of humor.”

“And your father is?”

“Zinzo, the Demon King.”

Gale’s head rocked back. “Uh… what exactly does the Demon King want with my sisters and me?”

Tyria and Fawn shared a look between them that made Gale very nervous.

“Now, you mustn’t get upset, Gale,” Tyria began.

“I’m already upset, Ty, just tell me what’s going on!”

Tyria took a deep breath and, with Fawn’s help, carefully explain the situation with the betrothal, trying their best to convey that the brothers were not in control of the situation and that Gale shouldn’t hold it against them.

“Are. You. Serious?” Gale said through gritted teeth as they concluded the explanation.

“I’m afraid so,” Fawn replied. “Father made the deal before he even knew he’d be having daughters, before he even married Mother. He thought, at the time, that he would never have to make good on his promise.”

“So… what? We’re literally just collateral for Suida? That’s the only reason we exist at all? What kind of nonsense is that?”

“I know it’s hard to accept, Gale,” Tyria said. “It’s not ideal in any sense. Trust me, I was plenty angry at Father when I first arrived. But it’s really not so bad here once you get used to it.”

Gale massaged her temples, trying to wrap her head around the day’s events. Genus fidgeted and watched her apprehensively, with his brothers standing at his shoulders in support. Her sisters stood on either side, creating a wall of insanity she couldn’t penetrate.

“Well,” Gale said. “It was nice to meet you all. I’m leaving.”

Her sisters and the brothers exchanged uneasy looks.

“I’m afraid you can’t leave,” Genus said woefully.

“The hell I can’t,” Gale retorted. “I don’t really care what promises my father made, I don’t recall signing any contracts. I am an adult and I want to leave.”

“No, Gale, you don’t understand,” Tyria said. “None of us can leave, not even Zinzo’s sons. There’s a protective barrier around the kingdom that prevents anyone from entering and exiting without Zinzo’s permission.”

“Then take me to the Demon King and I’ll make him release us.”

Again, Fawn and Tyria exchanged glances.

“What?” Gale fairly snarled.

“Well…” Fawn said in a small voice. “I’m not sure what Tyria wants to do, but… I don’t want to leave.”

“Why?” Gale asked venomously.

“Well…” She said again, reaching back to take the giant’s hand in hers. “Just before you arrived, I agreed to marry Viribus.”

There was a joyous exclamation between the five of them, congratulating Fawn and her massive groom-to-be as they grinned sheepishly. Gale watched them in horror.

“You can’t be serious!” Gale said. “You’re really going to marry that monster?”

Viribus flinched, and Fawn’s eyes widened in offense.

“Gale!” Tyria said reproachfully. “This is a special day for Fawn and Viri. Don’t you dare spoil it for them.”

“Oh, my gods, am I the only sane one here?!” Gale shouted. “How can you both be all right with this? It’s ludicrous! We are not commodities to be bartered! We are people! Royalty! We have rights!”

“As royalty,” Tyria said, her voice shaking a little as she went to lay her hands on Fawn and Viribus’ arms. Fawn was visibly upset and Viribus was holding her with his head hanging. “We are servants of our people. Their safety and prosperity is our primary concern. Father made this deal with his people in mind, knowing he might have to make a terrible sacrifice. His methods may have been deplorable, but above all, he did it for his people, his country. We can aspire to do no greater than that.”

A faint half smile drifted across Pallidus’s face.

Gale shook her head. “You have either lost your mind or been brainwashed. Either way, I’m not sticking around long enough for either of those things to happen to me.” She addressed the tall man standing with Tyria. “Take me to your father. This nonsense ends now.”

She left Genus and Viribus, looking stricken, and a weeping Fawn behind her, not sparing a backwards glance.

Zinzo sat at his desk in the grand sitting room, reading a message from an outer province. He smiled as Tyria, Pallidus, and Gale entered the room.

“Well, well,” He said, standing. “It’s about time. I assume Fawn and Viribus have good news, if she has come at last.”

“We shall let them make the announcements at the appropriate time,” Pallidus said.

“Wise,” Zinzo replied. He turned his attention to Gale. “Now, I assume you have questions.”

“No, I don’t,” Gale replied a little hostilely. “I understand the situation well enough.”

“Ah. Well, that’s good. Tyria here need quite a lot of explanation and assurance. So, you--”

“I’m not here to make nice. I’m here to demand our release.”

Zinzo’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

“You’re holding us against our will. We’re hostages. There are laws against that sort of thing.”

“Perhaps in your kingdom. The rules are different here.”

“I don’t care what the rules are here. I’m telling you I’m not going to play your game with you. Let us leave.”

“Gale!” Tyria hissed warningly.

“No, Princess,” Zinzo said lazily. “This should be interesting.”

Gale crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the king, who looked at her with a smug grin on his face.

“Tyria told me that when you made the deal with my father, the only son you had was Pallidus, and he was but a babe in swaddling.”

“That’s so,” Zinzo said.

“So how did you know you’d have two more sons? How did you know you’d need three brides?”

Zinzo quirked his head at her. “How do you think I knew?”

Gale looked him up and down with a scowl. “I think you’re a seer, or otherwise capable of divination.”

“Very astute,” Zinzo replied, to Tyria’s shock. Pallidus looked guilty but unsurprised.

“So you tricked my father into agreeing to your deal,” Gale said.

“No,” Zinzo replied calmly. “I merely used my foresight to my advantage. It’s a common tactical strategy. Both your father and I had a problem on our hands, so we made an exchange that was mutually beneficial. He just didn’t realize I knew more than he did about the matter. That doesn’t make it a trick. If anything, it could be argued he was attempting to take advantage of me, he just couldn’t see the entire picture.”

“Even if that’s true, I still doesn’t mean I’ll agree to it, and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“Perhaps so,” Zinzo said. “But you should try anyway.”

Gale frowned and huffed. “Use your foresight. Does this ploy work out for you?”

Zinzo grinned wickedly. “Spoilers.”

Genus was waiting for them anxiously when they came out of Zinzo’s sitting room. Fawn and Viribus were absent.

“I’ll take you to your room,” He said.

“No,” Gale said coldly. “Tyria will.”

He lowered his eyes. “Very well.”

Tyria glared at Gale and put a comforting hand on Genus’s shoulder as she passed. “I’ll come to the library later,” She said to Pallidus, who nodded, putting an arm around Genus and leading him away. As if he was the one who needed assurance.

Gale stomped down the hallway with her arms folded forbiddingly over her chest. Tyria sighed in annoyance.

“You’re being quite unreasonable,” Tyria said.

“I’m being unreasonable?” Gale retorted. “Have you actually gone insane? How can you expect me to just be all right with this?”

“I don’t, Gale,” Tyria said irritatedly. “But I do expect you to be polite. Genus has seen your your every possible need. He’s a good man, if a little quiet. He loves books just as much as we do. You should let him show you the library. It’s breathtaking.”

“I would rather gouge out my own eyes,” Gale grumbled.

Tyria rolled her eyes. “Well, the least you can do is apologize to Fawn and Viribus. They’re both very upset. You ruined their announcement.”

“Sure, I’ll get right on that,” Gale replied sarcastically.

Tyria grabbed Gale by the shoulders and stopped her roughly. “That’s enough. I understand you’re angry, but that’s no reason to take it out on people who have no control over your circumstances and are trying to make the best of this situation.”

Gale shook her off. “You’re not Mother. Stop telling me what I should do and how I should feel.”

Tyria shook her head in disappointment and agitation. “This is your room,” She said, motioning to a door with constellations carved into it. “It’s next to Fawn’s, and mine is the next door down. Maybe you should spend some time alone and think about things.”

“It’s not going to change my mind,” Gale said stubbornly. “I’m going to get out of here. It’s only a matter of time. And if I have to leave without you, I will.”

Tyria’s jaw worked in frustration. She opened her mouth to vent at Gale, thought the better of it, and said instead: “Dinner is in an hour. You will be there.”

She turned on her heel and walked away.

During dinner, Gale refused to sit with Genus, instead sitting in the seat next to Tyria ordinarily reserved for Pallidus. Tyria huffed in aggravation, but assured Pallidus it would only be for the evening.

“We’ll see about that,” Gale said obstinately. Tyria growled and didn’t speak to Gale for the remainder of the meal.

After the main course had been served, Viribus and Fawn stood, announcing their engagement to the delight of everyone in the room. The best wine in the castle was cracked open and a celebration was conducted. Gale sat in silence, refusing to participate. The table collectively ignored her.

That evening, she went to her room without speaking to anyone and plopped down on her new bed, groaning in frustration. What was wrong with the people here? What was wrong with her sisters? Was it something in the water?

She stared at the ceiling, her gaze unfocused on the mural of the night sky meticulously painted above her. Her thoughts chased themselves round and round, consuming her to the point where it took her several seconds to see the hidden wonder of the mural. Furrowing her brow, she peered at the ceiling through narrowed eyes.

“How did they pull this off?” She breathed in astonishment. After examining the mural closely for what felt like hours, she fell into an uneasy sleep, determined to asked about it in the morning.

She woke late the next morning, nearly missing breakfast. She refrained from speaking during the meal, resolving to seek out the person who made the mural and ask them directly.

After eating, her sisters and the princes disappeared, leaving her to wander on her own. Eventually, she made her way to the library. She had no idea where it was, but she always seemed to feel a pull toward any large collection of books in any place. She just naturally gravitated to spaces of learning and wisdom.

Once there, she reached out and grasped the handle, but before she could turn it, she heard her sisters talking with Genus and the other men behind the closed door. She leaned against the door and listened to the voices within.

“She hates me!” Genus cried, his voice muffled as though his head were in his hands.

“That’s not true, Gene,” Tyria said. “She doesn’t know you yet. She scared and confused and angry. I know how she feels. It’s exactly how I felt when I first got here. You were the one to finally change my mind and got me to talk to Pallidus. Remember that?”

Genus didn’t answer.

“Don’t worry, brother,” Fawn said. “Just give her time. She’s a willful girl, she always has been. You know that.”

Genus sighed. “Yes, I know. It’s one of the things I like about her. She’s never been afraid to speak her mind. I’ve always envied that.”

Fawn scoffed. “It’s not so much that she isn’t afraid as it is she doesn’t know when to keep her trap shut.”

She was clearly still angry at Gale. Gale felt a twinge of guilt, but not enough to convince her to apologize. She stood by what she said. For Fawn to marry that hulking giant was just absurd, as absurd as it was for Tyria to marry that prissy dandy, or for her to marry that short, excitable bookworm.

Gale heard the rumble of the large man muttering, possibly comforting Fawn, but she couldn’t make out his words. There was a lull in the conversation, during which Gale knocked on the door. It opened, revealing Genus’s pale, surprised face.

“Oh!” He exclaimed. “I… I didn’t expect to see you. Please come in. You don’t need to knock, you know. It’s a public library. Anyone in the palace is permitted to use it.”

“Then you should keep the door open,” Gale said.

Genus blushed and flung the door wide. “Would you like to come in?”

“No, I had a question.” Gale could see his brothers and her sisters looking at the pair of them with matching hopeful expressions. She scowled at them.

“The mural of a star map that’s painted above my bed. The constellations, they’re correct down to the spacing. How did you do that? Who painted it?”

“Oh, Viribus did,” Genus said, motioning back at the giant, who smiled tentatively. “He’s a very talented artist, even though he’d never admit it. I mapped it out for him, though.”

“How did you manage that if you’ve never seen the night sky for yourself?” Gale asked.

“I have star charts.” He pointed at the desk. “They’re a few centuries old, but they worked well enough.”

“A star chart from three hundred years ago would be different than the current sky map,” Gale said skeptically.

“Yes, that’s true,” He said. “I used grafts and calculations to determine how much they would have shifted and based the resulting positions on my equations. I’m pleased to learn my math was correct.”

“That’s… impressive.” Gale had to admit, it was. “And labor intensive. It must have taken weeks to plot it out correctly. Not to mention the patience involved in mapping it out above your head. Why did you go to so much trouble?”

“For you,” Genus said simply. “I wanted to do something nice for you. I know you love astronomy and have your own observatory at home. I regret that I cannot give you an observatory, so I did the closest thing I could think of. Did you like it?”

It was Gale’s turn to blush. “I… yes, it’s very lovely. And factual, which is the important thing.”

Genus laughed, a gentle, boyish sound. “I thought you’d approve. Viribus wanted to take artistic license with it, make it a bit grander, but I figured you would appreciate the accuracy.”

“You were right,” Gale said begrudgingly. “Are you interested in astronomy, as well?”

“Oh, extremely. I’ve always wanted to see the sky. It’s my dearest wish.”

“So why don’t you just go out?” Gale asked bluntly.

“I can’t leave,” Genus said, shaking his head. “Father would never permit it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dangerous for us on the surface world. He worries for our safety.”

“But if you--”

“Gale,” Tyria said sharply. “Let it go.”

Gale scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I just wanted to ask about the mural.” She turned on her heel and stormed off.

“Wait!” She heard Genus called. She didn’t stop walking but she did slow down enough to allow him to catch up with her, his hooves clacking noisily against the dark marble floor.

“I nearly forgot,” Genus said, reaching into his satchel and retrieving a wrapped gift. “Happy birthday.”

Gale, surprised, took it hesitantly, carefully tugging the item inside from it’s paper wrapping. It was a book on elvish astronomy.

“Elves have different constellations that humans, did you know? This book has a list of them as well as how to identify them and the elvish names for the stars in each one.”

“Wow,” Gale said. “I always assumed the constellations were universal.”

Genus laughed. “Yes. Humans tend to do that.”

Gale looked up at Genus’s smiling face and was struck by how… genuine he seemed, despite his odd appearance. Like it had never once occurred to him to tell a lie in all his life. He had a childlike openness about his demeanor that, she hated to admit, was intriguing. His default state of being was curiosity.

“Thanks,” Gale said. “For the book. It’s nice.”

Genus grinned and bowed. “Well, I’ll leave you be for now. I know this is hard for you; I don’t want to make you feel any more trapped than you already do.” He turned to go back to the library, calling over his shoulder, “But please, should you need anything, don’t hesitate to send for me. I’d be happy to assist you.”

“Thank you,” She replied. He waved a hand and disappeared back into the library.

“She liked the book! She actually talked to me!” He told the others excitedly. The purity of the happiness in his voice made her blush return. All right. So maybe her sisters weren’t as crazy as she first thought.

It didn’t matter. Having nice jailers didn’t make this place any less of a prison. She was still determined to escape.

Gale spent every waking moment over the next couple of weeks in the library, pouring over books about the Demon Kingdom of Cavernae. As it’s name would suggest, the vast majority of it existed in caverns and caves deep beneath the earth and that only a tiny portion of it was present on the surface. Gale had often wondered why, in the entire history of the Cavernae Empire, the reigning monarch had never tried to conquer another kingdom, but reading the history of the Demons, Gale realized it was because they didn’t need to.

Cavernae was everywhere. It spanned the whole continent, underneath the feet of all the kingdoms and countries. It was a few hundred feet at it’s shallowest, and over seven miles down at it’s deepest. It never ended. Gale didn’t know how to feel about the fact that there was a kingdom full of people underneath her own all this time that she never knew about.

Genus was often in the library with her. At first, he merely smiled when he saw Gale and left her alone, unless she asked him to help her, which he was happy to do. He found her books on any subject she could think of, seemingly pleased that she had taken interest his home. He proved to be a treasure trove of useful information about it and more often then not, she turned to him with her questions rather than a book.

She had been careful, asking pointedly vague questions in hopes of gleaning the information she needed to make her escape without arousing suspicion. He didn’t seem to notice, prattling on willingly about the barrier, where the portals were, where they currently were in relation to your castle in Suida. Gale were surprised to learn that the palace was actually straddling the line between Suida and Gale’s grandfather’s empire.

Finally, he gave Gale the information she was after. There was a portal in the palace. He told her that Viribus used it to bring materials from the outside world, and that it only opened at certain times, during the full moon and the new moon. Those were the only days Viribus was permitted to go out, and even then, he was to be no longer than thirty minutes. It was unguarded because it didn’t need to be; everyone in Cavernae knew the risks when it came to the outside world, and none of them were willing to risk their safety or the Demon King’s ire.

But Gale wasn’t a demon, and she wasn’t answerable to Zinzo.

She waited for the perfect moment. She couldn’t go when Viribus did; he’d catch her and bring her back. She learned he sometimes did errand running for the palace because of his immense size. Fawn would often accompany him to the markets outside of the palace. She was apparently beloved by the people there, and they delighted in seeing her out, so their visits were often, sometimes bringing Tyria and Pallidus with them. The only time Viribus missing his outing to the surface world was on days when he had been to the markets with Fawn.

Gale began to subtly plant the idea of going to the surface with Genus in his mind so that he could see the stars. She tried her best to insist that it would he for his benefit, not hers. At first, he was complete opposed to the idea, not wanting to anger his father, but also concerned about what could happen to him up there.

After a few months of incessant hounding, he began to soften. When he finally agreed, she did your best to hide your triumphant smile.

The next full moon, Viribus and Fawn had been out at the markets all day and were exhausted, going to bed right after dinner. This it it, Gale thought. This is my chance.

That night, she had talked Genus into meeting her in the library and he would lead her to the portal room. She decided not to take anything with her for fear that Genus would become suspicious, but her eyes fell on the book Genus had given her for her birthday and found she couldn’t leave it. She tucked it into her dress, trying her best to conceal it, and ran to the library.

“I don’t feel good about this,” Genus whispered, trying his best to move quietly, though his hooves made that impossible. It was very early in the morning, though, so most everyone in the palace was sleeping.

“Don’t worry,” Gale said reassuringly. “We’ll just pop our heads out and come right back.”

“But we don’t know where the portal will empty out,” he said a little desperately. “What if we stumble into some poor fellow’s garden? We’ll give him a fright.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Gene, any sensible person would be sleeping,” Gale replied.

“The implication being that we aren’t sensible?”

She grinned at him cheekily as they hurried down the corridor. She stopped in front of the large door. There was a strange looking lock on it.

“You won’t be able to open it,” He said, putting one of his fingers over his razor sharp canines and biting down. Blood immediately welled from it. “This lock only responds to the blood of the royal family.”

He dripped a drop or two of blood into a tiny reservoir at the lock’s base, and the filaments that extended out of it to hold the door shut retracted. He pulled the handle, and the door swing open.

There up on a dais, was a glittering doorway formed of branches and vines, similar in color to the rose bushes in the underground garden. In the middle was a bright, swirling light, and beyond was a forest.

“Come on!” She urged him, grabbing his hand. He groaned in reluctance, but allowed himself to be pulled forward. Standing before the portal, he hesitated, and Gale found herself unable to shift him.

“What’s wrong?”

He stared into the portal at the forest outside. “I’ve never been surface side before. I’m… nervous. We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“When are you going to get another chance, Genus? Come on, we’ll just go in and out. Ten minutes, I promise.”

He grimaced at her and swallowed.

Gale took his hand again. “Come on, Gene. You know you want to see the stars.”

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, knocking his spectacles askance. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Her grin widened and she started forward into the barrier. This time, he stepped forward with her. When he opened his eyes again, they had passed through and were standing in the forest they had seen reflected in the portal.

He opened his eyes and stared around them at the tall trees. “I’ve never seen real trees before! They’re everywhere!”

“It gets better,” Gale promised. “Ready to see the sky?”

For the first time that day, he forgot his misgivings and grinned at her in excitement.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

Gale took his hand and led him to where she saw the trees begin to thin out, and with a few seconds, they were standing in an open meadow, flowers everywhere in the ankle-high grass. He stared down at them all with a joyful expression.

“There are so many!” He said happily.

“Genus,” Gale said, laughing. “Look up.”

He did, and the smile faded into wide-eyed, open-mouthed wonder.

They couldn’t have picked a better night for this. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the stars shone as bright and clear as if they were fireflies in a jar, winking and glittering above them. The dark blues and purples swirled overhead, painting a picture more beautiful than any mortal hand could produce.

“Gods below,” He breathed. “The books do them no justice.” He reached up, hand spread, as if to touch them. “What miracles. What treasures.”

Gale watched him, a soft smile on her face. His open awe was more than a little endearing in a painfully naive way. It almost hurt to look directly at him, so she turned away to stare down at the horizon and froze in shock.

There, just beyond the meadow, was a castle. She recognized the spires, the towers, the observatory on the roof. The rose garden. Tyria’s rose garden.

This was Gale’s castle. She was home.

Her heart began to beat as if trying to propel itself out her her chest. She turned to look at Genus, who was still captivated by the night sky and not paying attention. She could run now. She doubted he’d be able to catch her, not on this terrain.

Just as she had turned slowly and lifted her foot to sprint, she heard Genus say, “They’re disappearing.”

She turned back to look, and he had a frown on his face.

“What’s happening?” He asked in confusion, looking around you. His gaze focused on the crest of a nearby hill and he stopped, his eyes widening with apprehension. “Oh.”

She followed his gaze and saw that the sky on the horizon was turning blue and brightening. Dawn was coming.

He began to back away toward the safety of the woods. “I shouldn’t stay out. The sun is dangerous.”

“Maybe not,” She said, grabbing his arm to keep him from retreating. “You’re half elf, aren’t you? Fawn said it might be possible that you didn’t inherit the sun allergy, like other demons have. You could be perfectly safe out here.”

“But…” He said, still trying to pull away, though Gale held him fast. “But I… Father said…”

“Don’t you want to see the sunrise?” Gale insisted.

“Of course I do,” Genus whined. “But…”

“Stay,” Gale said. “Stay and see. Isn’t a couple of little blisters worth a once in a lifetime experience?”

He grimaced, his eyes darting to the horizon, where the sky was progressively getting brighter, and back to Gale's face several times. “Gale… I don’t know about this…”

“Look,” Gale said, taking his hands in hers and pulling him close. “I won’t force you to stay if you’re determined to go back, but you know as well as I that this may be the only chance you have of seeing this. Do you really want to pass it up?”

His brow furrowed and he looked back and forth between the sky and her eyes.

“You’ll stay with me?” He asked.

“Yes, I will.” She said, surprising herself by realizing she was actually being sincere.

“You promise?”

“Of course. Do you trust me?”

He narrowed his eyes at her but responded with a slow, “Yes.”

She squeezed his hands reassuringly. “Then trust me.”

He puffed an explosive breath out through his pursed lips and nodded. Looking once more at the crest of the hill, where a golden light was beginning to form, he faced her and closed his eyes, waiting.

In a few moments, the sun began to break over the hill, sending light and shadows across the sleepy meadow and over the two of them. Gale paid close attention to Genus’s skin, looking for any sign of puckering or burning. When the sun was a quarter of the way up, she realized he was indeed immune.

Smiling, she squeezed his hands again.

“Genus, open your eyes. It’s safe.”

He did, looking in the direction of the sunlight, and inhaled a long gasp. The sun had painted the sky in blues and golds and reds. The rays filtered over the trees, casting long, lazy patterns over the fields. A gentle breeze blew through the grass and flowers, making the shadows and light dance together, like birds on water. It was breathtaking, even for Gale, who had seen her fair share of lovely mornings.

“The colors,” He said reverently, staring out over the field and crouching, as if the force of the beauty he was witnessing was preventing him from standing upright.

Looking at him, staring at the sunlight with the eyes of someone brand new to the world, she felt a stab of guilt. This was such a simple pleasure, one any person who lived on the surface would be privileged to from birth, but for Genus and his brothers, a joy that was out of reach. There was nothing fair about that. No more than being abducted and forced into an arranged marriage had been.

That’s when she realized, she couldn’t leave. Genus was just as trapped as she was. She had to help him and her brothers. There must be a way to free them as well as her sisters. She would find a way.

Gale looked distantly at her home, feeling as if her heart was being pulled in two directions, and sighed deeply. “We should go. Our absence will be noticed,” She said reluctantly.

“What?” Genus said, standing back up and looking at her with a frown on his face. “But… aren’t you going home?” He motioned at the castle looming darkly in the light of the rising sun.

Gale’s heart leapt into her throat. “I… wha… What do you mean?” Gale stuttered.

Genus let out his breath in a mirthless huff. “Gods, you must really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

“You think I don’t know who’s castle that is? I’ve looked at it every day my whole life. I know it backwards and forwards. You think I didn’t notice it when we came out of the forest? I’m surprised you didn’t just take off running as soon as we got here.”

“Genus, I…”

“Did you think I didn’t realize what you were trying to do, asking all those questions about the portal? I knew you were trying to escape. You said you would on day one and I never believed you had just given it up. I knew you’d find a way.” He nodded his head toward the castle. “So get going.”

Gale shook her head in disbelief. “Why did you help me, if you knew?”

“Because I love you, Gale,” He said simply, as if it should have been obvious. “I’ve always loved you. I just want you to be happy. If you can’t be happy in Cavernae, then that’s not where you’re meant to be. You should go where you happiest, even if that’s not with me. And hey, I figured if I helped you, at the very least I’d get to see the stars.”

Gale’s throat tightened. She could feel tears coming to her eyes. “But your father…”

“Oh, don’t you worry about him,” Genus said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll talk to him. He can be reasonable at times. I’m sure he won’t like it much, but I’ll smooth it out. Don’t worry.”

“Genus,” she said, tears beginning to fall. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” He said gently, cupping her cheek with his hand and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “Just be safe. Be happy. For me.”

A stone lodged itself in her heart. She stepped close and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His arms went around her waist and squeezed, his nose buried in her hair, breathing in deeply. He was so warm, she found, and she enjoyed the feeling of his hands on her back, his thumbs rubbing softly. She loved how he smelled, like books and leather and ink. His kindness and selflessness broke her heart. She knew that doing this for her could cost him dearly. The idea of him paying any price for helping her made her ill.

Though he made no effort to step away, he said, “You should go. I have to get back to the palace. The portal will be closing soon.” His hand tangled itself in her curls.

Taking a breath, Gale replied, “You’re right. We should get back.”

He did step back at that, narrowing his eyes at her, his hands stilled on her waist and hair. “But, aren’t you going home?” he repeated.

“Yes, I am,” She said. “With you.”

He continued to frown with confusion, opening his mouth to speak but no sound came out.

Gale took his face in her hands, pulled him toward her, and kissed his lips. He immediately kissed back, as if hungry for it, his hands putting themselves on her hips and drawing her as close as possible. When she pulled away, she wasn’t the only one with tears in their eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asked her, his forehead resting on hers and his hands gliding up her back.

“Yes,” She replied. “Let’s go home.”

He gave a watery laugh of relief. Gale took his hand and led him back to the portal. He cast a wistful glance back at the brightening sky and followed.

Before stepping into it, Gale stopped short and looked back through the trees for one last glimpse of her family home, knowing she may never see it again. She bid a silent apology to her mother, father, and brother, hoping that they were all right and that they’d understand.

Genus squeezed her fingers gently, not wanting to rush her but reminding her the portal would be closing presently.

She turned back to him and smiled, laying a kiss on his cheek to make him grin, his sharp teeth flashing in the sunlight. Together, they traveled back through the veil into Cavernae. The portal sealed itself just seconds later.

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