#I get chased by a really hot ash princess

[masked-alien-lesbian]

And then 3 minutes later:

This book is awesome! 💚💛💚💛💚💛💚

[howhow326]

How I would bring Spyke into the 616 canon

Under the cut

So, for obvious reasons, Evan is the son of Ororo's dead aunt/sister of her father instead of her sister (the obvious reason is that Ororo doesn't have a sister in canon and I don't feel like retconing her one)

Evan's backstory is that Aisha Munroe (giving Ororo's aunt a name because she doesn't have one for some reason?) had him out of wedlock with a man she thought would stay with her, but dumped her when she got pregnant which made her fall into depression. She ended up giving him away without her parent's knowledge, but the guilt would catch up on her and she would eventually tell her family what she had done. Her parents forgave her, but she never forgave herself. Afterwards, Aisha would turn to a life of hollow pleasures, buying drugs and having another child out of wedlock (David Munroe Jr.). Then she got AIDS, and died.

Evan himself got lost in the foster care system, moving from house to house for being a "trouble-maker" (it was just racism). By highschool, Evan thought he had settled down with the Daniels household, a upper middle class black family that lived in a white neighborhood. Then he found out he was a mutant. He hid it for as long as he could, but when his adoptive parent's found out they kicked him out. By that time, Evan (who was 17 going on 18) decided to get out of America and to go live in the one place all mutants could feel safe: Genosha. Then

Yeah.

Ororo's family was one of the Genosha victims on the ressurection back burner and she never even knew it.

Fast forward to whateverthefuck the From the Ashes status quo is: Ororo has a nightmare where a ghost woman that looks like family begs her to save her son while choking her. The ghost then disappears, and Ashake shows up to tell Ororo that while this is a dream, her long lost cousin really is in danger and she needs to find him. Ororo asks for any hints and Ashake tells him his full name and that "he is lost in darkness".

Storm then flies over to her grandparents house and asks if she may have any lost family members. They are shocked at this information because Harriet (Storm's grandmother, her grandfather doesn't have a name) had a dream where she saw the ghost of her daughter beg her to save her son. Storm tells them it wasn't a dream and her grandparent's tell them the story of Aisha Munroe.

The three of them then go on a wild goose chase across the U.S., finding every foster home Evan's ever been to and eventually reaching the Daniels household. The Daniels tell them that they kicked him out for being a "demonic" mutant and Ororo has to leave so Harriet kicks their teeth in.

The trio headback to New York at a dead end because 1) they have no way of knowing if Evan's in the White Hot Room or not and 2) they have no Cerebro, no Peofessor X, no Jean Grey, no telepaths to help find Evan cuz their all busy. Storm then thinks back to what Ashake told her about Evan being "lost in darkness" and realizes that he was right under their noses the whole time: the Morlock tunnels.

Storm then goes underground alone to search for Evan and runs into Callisto who tells her that hey, someone who vaugely resembles you just showed up causing problems and you need to fix it!

This when Storm finally meets her cousin, Spyke

Spyke is ruling the Morlock tunnels with an Iron-fist and he blames accuses Storm and her mother for being the reason his life was so hard: if David Munroe had never left his real family to be with some african princess, he would still be alive and could have helped him mother when his grandparent's couldn't.

Storm begs Spyke that none of this is true but then she quickly realizes that something is very off about him. Spyke then challenges Storm to a fight to the death and Storm accepts, not to kill him but to try and subdue him, and that's when he winks at her.

Dun dun dun, he's posessed by Shadow King.

Storm then gets into a fight with Spyke and despite being massively more powerful than him, Storm is holding back and Spyke isn't which makes them almost evenly matched (and also they are in a tunnel so Storm can't use her full power without killing everyone anyway). Storm then makes the super hard decision to fry Spyke's brain in order to launch the Shadow King from his mind. After that Storm tries desperately to revive him and it looks like he won't wake up. In desperation, Storm remembers all the times she used magic and been called the avatar of life, and Storm chants "winds of life, I command you to save him from darkness!" and pumps magical wind into Spyke's lungs (I pulled this magic Storm stuff out my ass at the last minuet because I thought it was cool lol).

Nothing. Ororo cries for another family member she couldn't save. Then Spyke wakes up! Ororo then hugs him quickly, overjoyed that she was able to save him.

She then takes him back to the Munroe household where their grandparent's and David Jr. meet Evan and welcolm him to their family and let him know he will always have a place with them, as Evan Munroe.

Whatever happens next is anyone's guess :P

Edit: theres no way I forgot his last name was daniels 😭

[sometimesibepondering]

Found a prompt on Reddit I really like, but for some reason the server crashed and now I can’t post. I didn’t write this shit for nothing. Here it is:

“Run!” Reid shouted as he scrambled to his feet and made his way through the cave as quickly as his short legs would allow.

“Run? RUN?” Quincey yelled as he ran after the other, easily keeping pace with the shorter man. “What do you mean run? I thought you’d just zap it to death with your twinkly little spells magic boy!”

“We are going to die, and you’re still making fun of me?” Reid shouted back. “For the last time, I am an Alchemist, not a wizard! And what about you bell boy? Huh? Weren’t you going to jingle it to death? Tell jokes till it died of laughter?”

“Oh please! Like that thing has a sense of humor!” Quincey rolled his eyes. “I’d have a better chance of getting Princess Amber to wear a dress!”

“As if! She’d rather march herself to the gallows than be forced into a gown!”

“Thank you for punctuating my point magic boy! I swear-“

“Quickly hide here!” Reid finally spotted a crevice in the cave walls just barely large enough to contain them both. He shoved the larger man into the nook first before pressing himself inside as well.

Reid reached his hand into a blue leather pouch hanging on his belt and grabbed a handful of foul smelling powder. Quincey didn’t know what all it was comprised of, but he was nearly certain there were bits of hair and what looked like cats claws poking out of the ashy powder in the alchemist’s hands. Reid spat in his hands then looked up at Quincey.

“Quickly bell boy, there’s not much time left!” Reid urged him.

“What-“

“Spit! Now!” Reid whisper shouted through clenched teeth.

Quincey spit into Reid’s hands then watched as he mixed the ash and spit together before rubbing the spit-paste along the walls of the crevice, then ignited the powder with the flint and steel hanging on his neck. Reid wiped his hands off on his robes and breathed a small sigh of relief. “We’re safe for now, but don’t speak too loudly, it doesn’t block noise.”

“What do you-“ Quincey’s question was cut off by Reid’s hand coming up to block his mouth as the ground shook.

The beast that had been chasing them finally caught up. The creature was lumbering by, pausing occasionally to sniff the air. The realization hit like a brick. It was tracking them by scent. Not sight. Not even sound. They would be found. And soon.

Quincey stared wide-eyed and desperate at Reid who still seemed somewhat calm despite the situation. They were about to be eaten alive by a dragon and the little magic boy was still holding his mouth shut. Honestly this isn’t how he pictured his demise. Quincey figured his death would be at the gallows. He’d have been sentenced to hang after throwing one quip too many at a visiting foreign minister, offending their sensibilities so thoroughly that they declare war against the kingdom. All over a joke.

In his dreams at least that’s how he’d go. He had even fantasized about what one-liner he could toss at the crowd before taking the plunge. He wanted his final words to be his legacy. But now he’d die, gored to death by dragon teeth, and not even get to say anything remotely funny to anyone who’d get it or live to tell the tale considering his current companion, who was likely perishing alongside him, was a stick in the mud who hated any and all things fun.

Resigning himself to his clearly imminent death, Quincey looked out of the crevice at the dragon, mere inches away from them. It sniffed the air. Once. Twice. Three times. It huffed through its nose, the hot air hit his face and his hair curled slightly from the heat.

Then it turned around and left.

Just like that.

Quincey couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He could still feel the ground quake a bit as it lumbered away from their little hideout.

Reid slowly dropped his hand from Quincey’s mouth, allowing the jester to speak once more.

“You’ve got some fancy tricks magic boy. What is in that powder?” Quincey smirked at him.

“Nothing special really.” Reid shrugged. “I’m just glad I brought it along, didn’t think we’d actually need it. But then again I didn’t think we’d run into a dragon either.”

“No kidding. Who’d have thought gathering glowshrooms would turn us into lunch?” Quincey mused.

“Lunch? Did you see the size of that thing? I don’t think we’d even qualify as an afternoon snack.” Reid rolled his eyes.

Quincey chuckled lowly, causing their ribs to press against each other even more. “Maybe you do have a sense of humor magic boy. Albeit only a small one. Now can we get out of this hole? My back is pressing against a rock and I can smell entirely too much of you.”

“About that…” Reid began sheepishly. “Um… no.”

“No? What do you mean no?” Quincey interrogated him quietly.

“Well, ensconce powder has a particular side effect, that I haven’t quite found a way to counter just yet. I’m still researching ways around it, but I’m so,so close to a breakthrough I just know it. I haven’t found it yet though.” Reid rambled a bit before biting his lip in shame. With their proximity, Quincy could not only see his ears brighten with his embarrassment, he could feel the other man’s heart racing in his chest as it pounded against his ribcage. “You see the veil it creates can hide things by blocking four of the five senses, and this veil is hiding the two of us specifically. That’s why I needed your spit. To anything other than the two of us this crevice will look, feel, smell and even taste like just another part of the cave, and after the powder burns up the illusion fades away. But if you or I make a sound too loud, or leave the illusion, the veil will shatter. Like glass. Literally.”

“You mean to say-“

“Yes.”

“So we’re stuck here?”

“Indeed.”

“For how long?”

“Ensconce powder usually only lasts ten minutes or so, but I did use quite a bit more than usual since I needed to hide the both of us, so it could be longer.” Reid mused somewhat sheepishly.

“How much longer exactly?” Quincey furrowed his brows as he looked down at the other man.

“Well there’s no telling really. Could be twenty minutes, could be two hours.” Reid scratched at his nose nervously. “We just have to wait until the powders all burned away.”

“You mean to tell me, I have to be stuck here with you for two hours?”

“POSSIBLY, two hours. It could be less.” Reid pointed out optimistically.

“Or more. This is a nightmare. I suddenly regret ever teasing Sir Lance about his religion. Hell is real.”

“Right… well…” Reid began to fidget with his robes nervously. “What do you suggest we do to pass the time?”

“Pass the time?” Quincey rolled his eyes. “Well there’s not enough room for a game of cards, I can’t reach my flask in this position, and you can’t take a joke to save your life so conversations off the table.”

“I can take a joke.” Reid huffed feeling a bit indignant.

“No, you can’t.” Quincey huffed back.

“Can too!” Reid stood on his tip toes and puffed out his chest a bit, crushing into Quincey even more than before.

“Cannot!” Quincey retorted. “Every time I make a joke around you, you take it too seriously and point out the punchline. Really ruins the delivery.”

“Not everytime!”

“Name one instance.” Quincey challenged.

“I don’t get upset when you call me ‘magic boy’ even though what I do is, strictly speaking, not magic.” Reid poked a sharp finger into the other’s chest.

“You think I’m joking when I call you ‘magic boy’?” Quincey sneered.

“Aren’t you?” Reid furrowed his brows, looking more hurt than Quincey had ever seen him. “I mean I’m only joking when I call you bell boy… I thought it was affec- I mean I thought it was our own friendly banter.” The small man seemed to have deflated.

“Reid, I didn’t mean-“

“No no it’s fine… of course you didn’t mean it like that.” Reid flashed a stiff smile. “I guess I was the only one who thought we were friends. That’s fine. Good to know now, before going and making an even bigger fool of myself. Not that I’m trying to take your job. I couldn’t do what you do, Quincey. People don’t smile and laugh when they see me like they do with you. No one really enjoys spending time with me, except for you. Well I thought you did at least. I guess I was wrong about that though. I suppose this means I should stop going to the performers kitchen for lunch now.” Reid rambled on, words simply spilling out of his mouth without him really knowing what he was saying. Quincey could only watch helplessly as tears trickled down his face, his heart aching with each drop.

“No no no, Reid, no.” Quincey wrapped the smaller man in a hug. “I do enjoy spending time with you. You’re my best friend and I love-“ he stopped himself with a cough, “being with you. You are wonderful, and so fun be around. It amazes me to watch as reality bends to your will and distorts at your fingertips. I call you magic boy because to me what you do is magic. No different than what Selina and Hubert do, just without the wands and chanting is all. Please don’t stop eating lunch with me. If you do, I’ll only have Percival to keep me company, and he’s such a dreadful bore.”

Reid sniffed and wiped his eyes on Quincey’s broad chest as he tried to stop his tears. “Percival’s a lizard though.”

Quincey chuckled. “Yes. Yes he is. Thank you for punctuating my point magic boy.”

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Dabi x Sister! Reader

TW: yandere, incest, no con, voyeurism, choking, burning, unprotected/no prep sex, breeding/creampies, snowballing, public sex, degradation, lots of dirty talk

AN: WHEEWW my first fic in a while, so excited for my first join intro collab!! thank you to the lovely jo for writing it <33 enjoy

A BNHarem Server Collab! Check out the other works here.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

Christ, what a load of bullshit the news was nowadays. Constantly whining and squealing about what heroes did and didn’t do, promoting fear-mongering like it was the hottest trend. Between your father and two older brothers dedicating their life to the cause of justice, the world always felt just a little safer to you, the naive little thing that you were. And tonight was no exception.

Despite the rapidly increasing crime rates, your judgment to grab a couple of drinks in the city with your friends was hardly swayed. The stress of it all was getting to you and you’d love nothing more to drink your heart out at one of the few spots still left open. It was a sleazy place, but it was fun. If anything, you found a bar in the area where your eldest brother was currently stationed patrolling.

Touya had always been protective of you ever since the two of you were children, and he carried that same possessiveness well into your adulthood. Always chasing off any potential suitors, keeping you out of trouble, and generally being a menace to anyone who thought they were good enough to be around his favorite little sister.

By the end of the night, stumbling around drunkenly was the only thing keeping you upright as you made your way out of the club and onto the street, looking for a taxi to get you home. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, a mess of blue and red lighting up the darkened streets.

“Hey sweetheart. Need a hand?”

Grubby hands met your arms the same time the cool air of the night did, tugging and pulling at you to come closer, wherever that may be. Jaunts and laughter echoed off the buildings, only adding to the haziness the alcohol induced. “What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all on your lonesome?”

Weak attempts to push the group of assaulters off you were in vain as they groped and squeezed your body at their pleasure. “Come on, we’re just trying to keep ya company. Right, boys?”

“Stop..”

Your whine came across much more pathetic than you could have ever hoped, only earning more chuckles from the men. “Just relax, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

Blue flames danced around the group of you, closing the lot of you against the building wall in a small circle of fire.

“Will you now? Last I checked, I'm the only man suited for that.” Touya was less than amused to have found out from Fuyumi that you traveled into the city given its state, even more so when he saw how drunk and disorderly you were being.

“T-Touya-nii!”

The men untangled themselves from you with ease, tossing you into the arms of your expectant brother, who was more than glad to pull you into a tight embrace. “Shit! It's the number three, Heatstroke!”

The comforting warmth of his body and scent of his cologne settled your frantic nerves, tucking yourself closer into his arms. “Honestly, it’s like you're asking for it at this point.”

Your heart sank low in your chest, but you couldn't find the strength to move away from him as he scowled down at you.

“Look at what you're wearing, you little tease. Bet you would have loved to have them violate you, huh slut?”

Never has Touya been so venomous with you before; it made your heart hurt, even more, to see your beloved nii-san be so cruel.

“Don’t you worry, that’s why your big brother is here to show you who you really belong to.”

Shoved against the wall, he pinned your trembling form with his right knee in between your legs and his hands wandering over your skimpy dress.

“You boys can stick around to watch; let a real man show you how it's done.”

Flames singed at your dress, burning it to ashes to expose you in the cool wind of the night. Hot fingers pressed into your skin, littering marks in their wake before they wrapped around your throat. “You were just begging for nii-san to come to save your slutty ass, huh, princess? I know you checked my patrol schedule before ending up at this dive.”

His hand tightened around your neck, his lips at your ear. “Wanted nii-san to come put you in your place, yeah? After fuckin’ teasing me all these years, you finally cracked me. Are you proud of yourself, little girl?”

A whine slipped from your constricted throat, your smaller hand gripping at the large one squeezing you with everything it had. “And now you've got an audience to witness my ownership over you. You're mine, little girl.”

Finally releasing your throat, his hands traveled down to your chest and groped at your roughly, pinching and pulling at your soft, sensitive nipples. Bile was rising in your throat as you drowned in your own fear, feeling him drag you into the depths of depravity.

“What’s the matter, imouto? I thought you said I was your favorite. You're hurting my feelings, y’know.”

“Touya, please-”

A scoff slapped you hard in the face as his knee jerked up against your cunt. “Don’t start with me. I know who you really are and what you really want, even better than yourself.”

His words stabbed at your heart, and his wandering hands only seemed to pour salt over the wounds. “You’re nothing more than my whore, little sister.”

Hips ground against your backside in a slow, teasing manner, groans pushing past his lips as he did so. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His erection was pressed flush against you, straining in his pants before he unzipped himself. At this point, you were more than sobered up running on fear and adrenaline alone. Your panties were ripped clean off with his free hand while the other stroked his hardening cock. “Look at me.”

The tip was aligned with your hole, rubbing slightly to gather the minimal wetness between your lips. “I said look at me.”

Teary eyes peaked up at him through wet lashes, silently pleading with a man who was not known for mercy.

“Good fuckin’ girl, so obedient for your big brother.”

With one snap of his hips, Touya fully sheathed himself inside of your tight cunt, groaning at the way you squealed for him. “Aw, you like that, huh, princess. Feeling good?”

A warbled moan was the only response you could give him as he slowly began to pull out. The alcohol had you buzzing enough to block out the pain of the stretch, and damn did you feel filled to the brim.

“Can’t wait to breed this greedy little cunt of yours.”

His pace was slow, agonizingly so. Touya couldn't help but savor every second of the first time having been inside you, especially after dreaming about it for so long. God, if it didn't turn him on to have an audience, knowing that these men knew he was fucking his sister.

What would the media think? God, the news cycle would be ripped to shreds tomorrow over this breaking story. But hey, no PR is bad PR.

The thought of finally having staked his claim in you almost had him coming prematurely, but he had to hold out for your very first time together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Heh, your crying face was so cute. Those tears weren't shy by any means and neither were your sobs. It's alright, you’ll learn to love being Touya’s cocksleeve.

“Say you love me.”

An impossible request when you're being violated by the person you held dearest to your heart.

His pace had picked up brutally, slamming into you without care for his flames spreading wildly nor the group of assaulters who seemed to vanish once they had the opening to.

“I-I love you, nii-san! I love you!”

Your cries were shrill and whiny, echoing into the chaotic night. The grip on your hips was heating up, so much so that his handprints were burned into your love handles.

“Good girl, good little slut.”

His breathing was erratic, hot against your neck as he growled and grunted into your ear. “Gonna let nii-san breed this pretty little pussy? Yes, you are. I know you are because you're fuckin’ mine, bitch.”

Moaning out your name, Touya came deep inside your womb, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides. You were soon to follow thanks to his thumb against your clit, causing you to writhe and whine in his arms.

Utterly spent, you rested against the brick wall you were pinned to, feeling the cum drip out of your still filled hole.

“Let’s get you home and into my bed, princess. I gotta go have a chat with Dad and Shouto, let ‘em know you’re fully off limits now.”

— tagging: @libiraki @bonesoftheimpala @tomurasprincess @sightoru

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello!! i've made a request before but this idea came in my brain and i heard your requests were open. So ive seen a lot of fics of the brothers saving mc, but what about mc kinda of saving the brothers, i mean like badass sword fighting style. Just like a stereotypical disney prince saves a princess mc kinda saves the brothers from getting killed by a lesser demon with a sword and just being badass (and sword) and the bros find it hot (weak humans? never heard of them)

*spongebob narrator voice* 400 years lat’er..... So sorry this took so long! I genuinely don’t know why I couldn’t get it done. When I actually tried, I got it done in like 2 days. My only excuse is that I’m a horrible trash munny >.<

Obey me Boys + Power Princess MC

Lucifer

It offends him that this creature, this being not fit to lick the soles of his boots, would raise their hand to him. The attack was not even what upset him, but just the gall. The utter stupidity of this decision to throw one’s life away. The fact that they had attacked with you around only made him wish to end that pathetic life that much sooner.

“Step back [Y/N]. I’ll deal with this quic—” Lucifer cut himself off when you rushed forward. A bright shining sword in your hand as you lunged. Slashing through the demon, who wailed and instantly turned to dust & ash. “What on Earth was that?”

“Oh. It’s my sword.” You reply nonchalantly. Turning around to show it to him. “It’s a holy arc sword, or something. I can summon it from my bracelet whenever I need it. Cool to know it actually works in a pinch.”

“And where did you get such a magical artifact?” Lucifer asked. Perplexed beyond reason, but trying not to show it.

“Lord Diavolo gave it to me when I first got here.” The demon arched a brow. Lord Diavolo? “It would be really irresponsible of him to just let a human wander around hell without some kind of weapon.”

He paused for a moment. Trying to piece all of what you had just said together. Then he just chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it would be.” And here he thought that he had been the only one protecting you. When all along you could do it yourself.

His hand reached out to pat your head fondly. His breast swelling with pride. “I’ll have to thank him for giving you such a thoughtful, practical gift. We’ll also have to add sword play to your lesson plans. I’d be more than happy to be your tutor.

Mammon

‘Shit!’ Mammon mentally cursed as he was hit again.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been rough up outside a club. Given his lifestyle, and his gambling track record, he’d been pummeled by a few bouncers in his life. With his immense power, he could easily take them; if he tried. But then he would be banned from the club, and ever other, and that was something he couldn’t handle over the humiliation of being beat up by these clowns. He needed this. It was all he had.

So, he took his beatings from lesser demons when they came around. He’d only wished they’d picked a different night to get their ‘payment’ back since you were supposed to be here soon.

“Come on guys. Don’t ya think you’ve had enough?”

“We’ll tell you when we’ve had enough!” One demon sneered at him, before kicking a man while he was down. Classy. “You owe us. And we’re gonna get back every cent you owe out of your hide!”

The demon reared his foot back to kick him again, and Mammon mentally sighed. Preparing himself for the kick and really being over this since it began. But….no kick came.

The demon let out a loud grunt over the sound of a metal ‘wack’ before the two, even lesser goons beside him suffer the same fate and they all slump to the ground. “Mammon! Are you ok?!”

The silver haired demon looked up at you in shock. The light from the street lamp causing a halo to form around you, highlighting your worried face as you brandished a rusty pipe like some great sword. “Yeah…I’m fine….”

“You don’t look fine! You’re all beat up!” He just sat there as you dropped the pipe and dropped down to him. Fretting over him as you looked him over. He couldn’t hear what you were saying over the beating sound of his heart in his ears.

No one had ever tried to help him before.

Mammon lifted his arms and wrapped them around you. “Mammon? What—“Let’s get out of here.” He interrupted as he hugged you. Standing up, and helping you to your feet, after a moment to walk out of the alley. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I wanna go somewhere with you.”

“But….I thought you wanted to go out tonight. Play cards. You said you were feeling lucky?”

He couldn’t tell if that was a jab or not, but replied, “well clearly I was wrong.” Though despite his bumps and bruises, he did still feel pretty lucky right not. “I just want to get out of here. I don’t need this anymore.” You both decide to head home to help Mammon nurse his wounds. He never went back to that club, or really any club, after that night.

Levi

“Levi….I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Nonsense!” Levi quipped in response to your perfectly reasonable, concerned feelings. “It’s just a little further. Besides, I want to see Henry 1! I’ve missed him a ton recently, and want to make sure he remembers me.” It had broken his heart to discover his poor, lost serpent had been down here, all alone, this whole time. So he made an effort to see him every now and then.

“Yeah but…isn’t this still like super-secret for Lord Diavolo’s family and stuff? What if there’s like booby traps and stuff?”

“Come on! There weren’t any booby traps or anything before. Why would he when he has Henry to keep it…..” Levi trailed off as both of you were ingulfed by a long, dark shadow. A low hissing sound growing louder as a gold, stripped serpent towered over you with a menacing glare. “That’s not Henry.”

The snake hissed loudly with bared fangs and an open mouth, and you both scream and run to get away from it.

The serpent of course chased you. Easily able to keep up, and only loosing you when the two of you duck into a narrow corridor. Levi turned around to say something to you, but you were gone. His immediate thought was that the stranger snake had gotten you, and it was all his fault, and he would never see you again!

When he came to the end of the corridor, walking out like a man on death row instead of running, he looked up to see the snake in front of him. Clearly angered by having to chase him. Levi didn’t care. He wanted to die if anything happened to you. He’d rather die than live one moment without you.

Prepared to accept his fate, the demon didn’t move when the snake unhinged his jaw to eat him in one gulp. Only for a sharp spike to thrust out from his mouth a moment later. A strange, hissing gasp escaping it before it slumped down in a lifeless heap on the floor. “[Y/N]!”

“Jesus! Not to put too fine a pin on it, but this place is literally a maze. One minute I’m next to you, and the next I’m in some armory on the other side of the hall 50 feet away. Are you alright Levi?”

The demon scrambled up the snake corpse to stand next to you and wrapped his arms tight around your being. “[Y/N]! I was so scared! I thought this Henry imposter got you, and you were dead, and I couldn’t think of anything!”

“I’m really ok Levi.” You assure him, as he wept into your shoulder. “Do you still want to see the real Henry? I think I spotted where he actually is when I was running back with the spear?” Levi nodded into your shoulder. Still not prepared to let you go.

Satan

Satan always tried to be a reasonable man.

He hated being referred to as ‘The Demon of Wrath’. It wasn’t his wrath that had caused him to be born. And he wasn’t any angrier than his brothers, so why did he have to be labeled the ‘bad seed’? So he always tried to be level headed. Calm. Patient. But there were somethings he just could not abide. Like the boorish behavior of someone talking loudly in the library.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said, attempting to remain calm, as he came over to the rude demon two tables over, “could you please keep it down? This is a library.”

“Yeah. I know what it is.” He quipped back rather snippily. “What are you? The librarian?”

“No. Just a fellow book lover.” Satan replied. Grinding his teeth now. “And one who can follow the rules and basic social decorum of keeping my conversations to myself in a place like this.”

“Are you calling me stupid?!”

“No. I’m calling you uncouth. A word meaning undignified, and without manners.”

“Why you!”

The demon rose to his feet, towering over Satan now that he was standing. Not that it mattered. Height was not an immediate representation of strength. Look at Belphie. His younger, shorter brother could level a whole city with a flick of his wrist. Satan could easily dispatch of his imbecile without even breaking a sweat.

He never got the chance though, as just after he stood the demon let out a grunt and slumped to the floor; with you standing behind him on his depleted chair with a book in your hand like you had just pulled it from The Stone. “Bet you’re glad I think Kindles are dumb now.”

Satan had to right himself on what he was seeing, and then frowned at you. “I never said that, and get down.” He insisted. Offering you his hand to get down. You hop down with ease and set your weapon book on the table. “Honestly, I could have handled him without resorting to violence or cheap theatrics.”

“Cheap?? This book was very expensive.” You insist, and Satan had to scoff.

“Be that as it may, please do not use books for more than their intended purpose. I appreciate the assist, but I can’t have you hurting yourself or fine literature in the future.”

“You’re such a buzz kill sometimes Satan…..”

Asmo

Asmo always loved going to the club. The dancing. The energy. The pulsing music. The people.

Well…usually the people. Some people, usually bro-dude demons, just couldn’t take a hint that ‘no’ meant ‘no’.

“Come on Asmo! Why are you being so stingy?!”

“I’m not being ‘stingy’,” Asmo replied with a frown marring his beautiful face. “I’m just not interested.”

“You were interested last time.” His pursuer replied. Like that somehow gave automatic permission that things would happen again.

“That was a long time ago.” The dusk haired blonde replied. Sipping his cocktail and looking thoughtful across the spacious VIP lounge over to you.

Yes, things had certainly changed. Once where it would take a whole room of people and attention to make him content, these days all he wanted was you. Just you sparing a moment to look at him made his heart feel incredibly full. He had come here to have a fun night out with you, but it seemed no matter where he went his beauty was always causing problems.

The lesser demon frowned, then looked towards the direction Asmo was looking to land on you. “Shoot, just bring them along with us.”

“Excuse me?” Asmo asked. Beautiful expression turning Ignatius as he sat down his drink.

“Bring them along. I’ve never had sex with a human. But there must be something to it if you’re willing to do them. Not that I suppose that takes much….”

At that, Asmo leapt from his chair and grabbing the brute by the collar. He wasn’t normally one for violence. He wasn’t like his dull brothers. But he couldn’t let a slight like that against you slide. “Take it back!”

The two demon’s scuffle. Clearing out the VIP lounge as everyone ran. Scared that they might transform at any moment and literally tear each other apart. Asmo somehow ended up on his back, a position that usually didn’t bother him, as the other reared back to punch him in the face.

Or, at least he would have if he didn’t start convulsing and fall on the ground a moment later.

“Asmo! Are you ok?!”

The Lust Demon looked at you for a moment. Then delicately covered his mouth with both hands. Returning to normal. “[Y/N]! You saved me!!”

“Yeah. This little thing packs a punch.” You replied. Holding out your little pink taser from She-Sword from your clutch. “I couldn’t let this jerk hurt your beautiful face.”

“No one is more beautiful than you my fierce warrior queen!” He praised. Basking in the moment for only a second before you both scamper off before security came.

You both might be beautiful, but you didn’t want to end up on the evening news.

Beel

“I want to take up kendo.” Beel announced to you one day. Out of the blue. “I’ve been looking for ways to add variety to my workout. I came across this video on kendo and thought it would be fun.”

Of course, Beel knew you had practiced kendo in the past at school. So he might have also been looking for fitness activities for you to do together. In any case, he really liked seeing you in your little workout outfit. It was super cute.

He also liked you showing him the basics of kendo; stance, footing, basic strike movement. When he felt he had gotten the hang of it, Beel jovially asked for a sparring match with you.

“I don’t know….”

“Come on [Y/N], sparring with someone is the best way to learn fighting.” He reasoned. “Besides, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about that….” He heard you mutter under your breath, but thought that he must have imagined it as you squared off.

Standing across from you in the arena, something changed. The hair on the back of Beel’s neck stood up. Not in the excited way that it normally did when he saw you. But something more….primal. His grip tightened a little more as he realized he might have to get a little serious with you.

It was all for nothing though as the match was over just as soon as it started.

The shinai went flying out of his hands, landing across the room just as Beel landed on his butt. His backside throbbing as his bell was rung clear as day. He rubbed his head as he looked up at you. “I may have forgotten to mention that I was three-time national kendo champ all through school.”

The demon looked up at you with a shiny, sparkly gaze only until now reserved for delicious food. “Teach me sensei!”

Belphie

He hated being out. He wanted to go home.

Being outside in the sun, with all these…..people was hell to him. Belphie would rather be home, in actual hell, with his blanket and pillow and quiet, rather than ‘top side’ with you for the whole afternoon. Not that it was you or anything. You were the only bright star on this miserable day. He’d be damned if he’d let one of his brothers spend the day with you when he could.

“Belphie, do you want an ice cream? Maybe that will help with the heat?”

He wanted to say that the only thing that would help him was getting the hell out of here. But, he bit his tongue. The demon knew how important this was to you to come ‘home’ now & then and he didn’t want to ruin it for you. So he just nodded and asked, “strawberry please.”

He sat in the shade as he watched you go over to the ice cream truck alone. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he was just a hopeless shut in. Like Levi, only worse. He just wanted humans so much that being around them was making him crankier than normal today.

“Geez, get a look at that side show over there.”

Belphie looked up from his daze at the human who was a few yards away from him. Snickering and staring with his friends in a voice that a regular human wouldn’t be able to hear. “If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck.” Again, he was very cranky.

The human was obviously taken aback at being heard and then called out like that. “What did you say to me?!” He yelled, once he got his bearings on the situation, and took a ‘threatening’ step forward to see if he would repeat it.

“I said ‘If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck’.” Of course he repeated it. “Don’t mutter something under your breath like a coward. Say it like a man, or keep your gross mouth shut.” This was why he hated humans. No spine.

Well, metaphorical spine. If he kept this up, Belphie was gonna prove that he had a spine when he ripped it out and made him wear it as a neck tie.

“You little fuck--!” Belphie, of course, didn’t move when he stomped closer. Not that he needed to, because he was stopped in his tracks rather abruptly when you stepped between then. Holding a knife from your pocket.

“I suggest you get out of here, before the only ‘side show’ around here is your knife swallowing act pal.” The man seemed to frozen for a moment as he tried to process if you were serious. Then his flight instincts kicked in and he took off running with his friends across the park. “Gosh, I think I’ve been spending to much time with you guys. I never would have done anything like this before.” You said after a sigh, then turned back to Belphie.

“My hero.” He cheered softly, in his typical tired voice but still with a soft smile. Seeming extremely proud of the bad influence he was on you.

[lykegenia]

The Dragon Knight’s New Clothes

The speed with which Davion left Hauptstadt left him no time to pick up clothes, so now he's back to square one and very much missing enough layers to cover up his... secrets. When he and his companions stumble on a farmstead his prayers seem answered, but there's also the other matter, the reason why he had to flee Hauptstadt in the first place, and the fear that it will happen again. Set between Episodes 2 & 3. 

Hints of Davion x Mirana

--

Read on AO3

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Normally, Davion is perfectly fine with silence in his travelling companions. The life of a dragon knight requires long hours on the road, not all of which can be filled with talk, even on the days where there’s no hunt to keep the quiet. But normality seems to have taken its butterfly wings elsewhere for him lately, and the current silence is getting awkward. It’s just him and Mirana. Marci took Sagan scouting shortly after sunrise and left them alone together, and while she seems content with their current situation, she’s also the only one between them wearing clothes. She doesn’t have to worry about the strength of errant breezes finding their way to places, and she has the weight of a weapon at her side as insurance against any trouble they might run into. Her feet aren’t slipping around sockless and blistered in too-large boots taken off a dead man.

A man he tore to pieces.

He swallows, glances to his companion to take his mind off the remembered taste of blood in his mouth. Her shoulders are loose, her gaze soft and hair flowing where the wind lifts it back from her face, the unassuming brown sparking copper in the dappled sunlight. He swallows again.

“Soooooo…”

“Is there a problem?” she asks, slowing a little. A quizzical knot appears between her brows and he raises his hands in surrender.

“No problem!” he says. “It’s just… you’re quiet.”

“I was enjoying the peace.” If there’s a note of annoyance for his interruption it flashes too quickly for him to catch it.

“You must not get much chance to just stop and smell the flowers,” he supposes, after a moment. “Being a princess and everything.”

“There are always little things, if you let yourself look for them – but you’re right that my duties rarely allowed for anything more.”

Allowed. Past tense.

“You never snuck away to try something more fun?” He grins, and when she only quirks a brow at him he clears his throat. “No, never mind, I think I know the answer to that… I’m sure Marci will be back soon.”

She throws him a smirk. “Are you worried about her?”

“Actually,” he says, letting his thoughts tease out, “I’ve been wondering about you two.”

“What about us?” The smirk draws in, a warning that seems to dim the sunlight itself.

He shrugs. “She takes your orders, but you don’t exactly treat her like a servant or a squire, and you have that –” he waggles his fingers experimentally – “hand language. You must have known her a long time.”

She turns away from him, her eyes going to a bird cleaning its beak on the branches above them as her arms fold in a loose cross over her chest.

“We came to the Nightsilver Woods together, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says. “We were already companions before then.”

“Just the two of you?”

Something in the memory pains her. “There was no one else left.”

“What about Sagan?” he asks.

“A gift from my goddess, so that I might do Her work.” The smile comes back, and he’s glad for it. “He was adorable as a cub – so fluffy. He used to chase the reflections from my arrowheads.”

“I never had a pet,” he confesses, without quite meaning to. A memory of a mongrel begging at the back door for scraps threatens to pull him in, but it was a long time ago and his mind can’t conjure the dog’s appearance. It probably ended up like the rest of his village, anyway.

Mirana’s eyes find his face, too perceptive, too understanding. Before he can think of a new subject to distract her, he notices the birds have all gone silent. The undergrowth rustles nearby, concealing something huge. He darts forward, fists ready in place of a weapon, but an instant later he catches a flash of white and relaxes in recognition at the wide, blunt head that pushes out from among the trees.

“Sagan!” Mirana ducks forward, arms outstretched, and the tiger butts her in the shoulder, purring like an avalanche as Marci slides down his back.

A brief conversation follows in the silent language the two women use between themselves, the signs made by their hands too fast for Davion to follow. He waits patiently, even dares to give Sagan a scratch under the chin, his fingers inches from the mouth full of sabre teeth the length of his hand.

Finally, Mirana turns to him. “There’s a farmstead about five miles west of here. If we’re welcomed it would be a good place to get some rest.” She throws a casual look over him and he resists the urge to tug the too-small cloak further around his body. “Perhaps we might also find you some better clothes.”

“I’d like that.” What he likes less is her singular ability to make him aware of his body – and not in the fun way.

She starts to lead off down the path but stops, sighs, her fingers going to pinch between her brows in an attitude of long-suffering patience.

“Ride Sagan,” she says. Orders, really. “It’ll save your feet.”

He can’t help but lean closer, grinning. “That’s surprisingly nice of you, princess.”

“And it’ll stop you slowing us down.”

He chuckles at that. Even in the few days they’ve spent travelling together he’s learned the difference between her wry mock threats and the times she truly intends to bite. As he winces over to tiger and vaults into the saddle, he almost misses the look exchanged between his two companions.

“How do I, uh, steer?” he asks. The neck in front of him is too short, the shoulders much broader than those of a horse, and there aren’t any reins.

Mirana smirks at him. “You don’t.”

--

They reach the farmstead as the sun is on its last descent towards the distant hills. Barley stalks sway gently under the wind as they climb the path to the house, and when a young teen tending vegetables by the back door spots them, Davion can hardly blame them for dropping their rake and running inside. The three of them don’t exactly make for an ordinary bunch of travellers, especially not with Sagan padding along behind them. There’s a stag slung over the saddle, intended as a sort of offering by Mirana, who took it down with one of her arrows before he even knew it was there. While most would follow the custom of hospitality without such a gift, they have only a few coins from the bandits he killed, and they need more than just shelter for the night.  

“Better let me do the talking,” he mutters as they pass into the yard. It’s not the first time he’s had to explain to some poor local that he’s not a marauding thug, and that was without the daunting presence of the war tiger at his back.

For a moment, Mirana considers, but nods and hangs back, passing a hand over her holstered bow as if to reassure herself it’s still there. With another self-conscious tug on his attire to make sure his decency is covered, he advances towards the farmhouse’s front door and as he passes a soft fragrance of thyme and lavender rises from pots placed beneath the windows, though it’s too early in the year for the buzzing of bees. A memory tickles at the back of his mind but he pushes it away before the herby scent can be tainted with ash, and in the instant it takes to centre himself the door swings open to a tall, broad woman with steel-grey hair and an iron brow who steps out just far enough to not appear suspicious.

“You’re an uncommon bunch, right enough,” she comments, her face half shadowed by the overhanging thatch. “What business have you?”

Davion offers her his most winning smile. “We’re travelling from Hauptstadt. If you have enough spare for a hot meal and room in your barn for the night, we’d appreciate it.” He gestures to his companions. “My friend here managed to take down a deer, and we’ll happily share it with you.”

“Half of it,” Mirana corrects, with a hand on her tiger’s shoulder. “And the hide. Sagan needs to eat too.”

The farmer passes a calculating look over them, lingering longest on Davion and the scars so clearly visible across his shoulders, but in the end he guesses their fearsome appearance works in their favour. Their would-be host shrugs. If such travellers wanted to pillage and burn, they’d have no need for subterfuge first.

“We’re always happy to have well-mannered guests, especially ones with news of the road,” she says. “At this time of year the stock is out so your cat will be fine in the barn. Just keep him away from the back field, I’ve ewes ready to drop and they don’t a need a fright to help them along.”

Mirana nods. “Thank you. Is there somewhere we can put the deer?”

If the farmer is surprised by Marci’s strength as she hauls the carcass off Sagan’s back, she doesn’t show it, only points to the gate set into the far wall to show the way to the outbuildings. “And you always dress like that, do you?” she asks a moment later, still eyeing Davion.

He glances down at himself as if it’s going to suddenly change the nature of his attire, but the princess answers before he can open his mouth.

“There was trouble with bandits.”

“Only for your friend here?” The farmer’s eyes narrow.

“We met on the road,” she says smoothly. “If you have some spare clothes, my companion would appreciate the return of her cloak.”

The farmer accepts the half-truth with a solemn shake of her head. “Some of my late husband’s things should fit you, though he never kept quite so trim as you seem to be.”

She beckons them into the house. Davion follows, ducking under the lintel to avoid knocking his head, but pauses when he realises Mirana isn’t behind him.

“I’m going to bed Sagan down,” she tells him. “I’ll join you shortly.”

He smiles, nodding, and resists the urge to reach for her as she turns away. Inside, the whitewashed walls split the house into two, a kitchen with a large, scrubbed table in the back, and a parlour of sorts with a gathering of chairs around a large fireplace that overlooks the garden. An old woman snores in the armchair closest to the window, but she doesn’t stir at the prospect of visitors, even though the stairs leading off this main room creak under Davion’s weight, the wood worn to a polish by generations of use.

“Tayran,” his host calls out as a young woman appears from one of the upper rooms, “go help your brother with the veggies, will you? We’ve three more mouth to feed tonight.”

Tayran, a few years younger than Davion and sporting the same square jaw and brown eyes as her mother, nods and ducks along the hallway, but not before she’s let her gaze rake along the expanse of his muscles not covered by Marci’s cloak. The smile he offers in return is friendly enough, but not encouraging. He needs the clothes more than he needs someone to take them off again.

Seemingly oblivious to the exchange, his host has gone on ahead to the main bedroom and has taken a key to a heavily locked chest in the corner by the washstand. She digs through it, muttering, though he notices she never quite fully turns her back to him, and after a moment she stands again, with a shirt, breeches, and quilted jerkin draped over her arm. After a pause where she casts a critical eye at his boots, she stumps over to a dresser and pulls a rolled pair of wool socks from one of the drawers as well.

“These are the best I can do,” she says, handing the ensemble to him. “Afraid we’ve no salve for those badly fitting boots of yours, though.”

“It’s no problem,” he replies. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

She huffs. “You can pay it forward. That’s what decent folk do. I’d best go see if yon slip of a girl has managed to get any meat off that stag yet – there’s plenty of room to change in the barn,” she adds, as she chivvies him from the room.

--

Dinner a few hours later is a crowded affair, the family’s meagre supply of chairs not enough to accommodate their guests, which means Davion’s legs are folded awkwardly around the tree stump serving him as a stool, his knees already bruised from all their accidental knocks to the underside of the table. The dim light for their meal comes from the fire and from a storm lantern hanging in the rafters in the centre of the room, and in the darkness beyond this the house groans and creaks as it settles for the night. After the disdain Mirana showed for the inn in Hauptstadt he wondered how she would react to such simple surroundings, but she nods graciously as their host ladles her a portion of stew and doesn’t complain that it’s being served with a wooden spoon. Marci is already tucking into hers as if she hasn’t eaten for days.

He smiles down at his bowl. The stew itself tastes good, the venison paired well with bacon and fresh vegetables, and it’s so thick the slice of bread he’s been given can be planted into it like a battle standard. Their host seems satisfied with their enthusiasm for her food, too. She has yet to sit down, her own portion left off as she pours a clear liquid into a motley collection of cups.

“Don’t knock this back,” she warns as she passes the drinks around. “It’ll beat you round the head like a club and go through your pockets for loose change.”

Davion can’t resist. He makes a great show of tasting the liquor. “A fine vintage, ma’am. Comparable to an Icewrack white, I’d say.”

Opposite him, Mirana narrows her eyes, like she wants to kick him under the table.

“My, you’ve expensive tastes,” their host rumbles. “You won’t find anything half so fancy in these parts.”

“Oh? Shame.”

“Where have you been that serves Icewrack white?” the elder asks from the head of the table. It’s the first Davion’s heard her speak, and her voice is cracked with age and suspicion.

“Oh, a few places,” he answers, careful. “I’ve spent most of my life travelling.”

“You must have many stories,” says Tayran, leaning forward on her elbows while her younger brother rolls his eyes next to her.

“Some, I suppose.” Davion shrugs. “My – uh, I had a friend who was much better than telling them.” He can’t mention having a squire; it would invite too many questions.

The elder seems content with him, but then her eye swivels towards Mirana. “What about you?”

“Mama,” their host chides. “We don’t interrogate our guests.”

Mirana sets down her wooden spoon. “It’s alright. We came from further west, on business.”

“Wrong time o’ year to be travelling the high passes.”

“My business could not wait,” she replies. Not for the first time, he wonders what calamity must have drawn her from her woods, put the grit in her voice as she speaks of it.

“And what about you?” Tayran asks him. Her eyelashes flutter. “If you’re looking for work you’d be far more likely to find it back in Hauptstadt, or on one of the farms in the valley.”

He disarms her with a grin. “And leave my companions without a defender? My honour wouldn’t allow it.” He shrugs elaborately. “I’ve got some friends near Levinthal who should be able to help me after I go that way.”

“More people who owe you favours?” Mirana asks, casually enough, though it’s clear she hasn’t forgiven him for the cockroaches that came included with the last one.

“It’s likely just as well you travel together,” their host interrupts. “There’s rumours of some sort of monster roving about these hills. Someone found bodies ripped apart not a week’s journey from here, and whatever it was killed a dragon knight an’ all. Dangerous times, these.”

The chill that grips Davion’s spine doesn’t go away, nor the knot in his stomach that feels like another gang leader’s ring just waiting to be hocked up onto the table. Mirana and Marci both have stilled to watch him, but he doesn’t meet their gazes. Instead, he draws in a breath and stretches his best tavern-pleasing smile across his revulsion.

“Thanks for the warning,” he says. “We’ll be extra careful.”

The conversation moves on after that, well into the night. On isolated farms like this one, travellers may bring the only news of the outside world for weeks, and new stories of far off places are always welcome. Finally, drowsing under the effect of the wine and the full meal and with the supply of fire logs running low, Mirana rises to make their excuses for the night. They have an early start in the morning, and don’t want to trespass any further, she says. Davion follows.

In the doorway, however, an unexpected hand reaches out in a caress across his chest that stops him before he can make it out into the cold. His breath fogs as he turns, finding Tayran in the shadowed alcove where the family keeps their coats, the smile on her face one he’s seen on more than one young woman on his travels.

“It’ll be cold tonight, you know,” she purrs.

From the corner of his eye he sees Mirana pause at the sound of the voice, but when he turns fully she’s already resumed her pace, perfectly measured, her shoulders straight, and he wonders if he imagined it. Tayran’s hand moves up to cup his cheek, to bring his attention back to her.

“If you want a better offer than a draughty old barn, I’d be happy to oblige. If you’re not already spoken for, that is?”

“You mean with –?” He coughs. “No, I’m not. We’re not, ah – like that.”

She steps closer. “Good. Would you like to hear more about my offer?”

--

When he lets himself into the barn a little time later, bright moonlight spills around him, though his eyes take less time to adjust to the unlit interior than he expects. An oil lamp glows in the far corner.

“Your ‘better offer’ fell through then?” a voice chimes through the darkness, low with disdain.

He finds Mirana with Sagan’s head in her lap, running a soft brush over the tiger’s fur, her scowl and the sour curl of her mouth revealing the nature of whatever else she wants to say. She doesn’t look at him. His own anger rises in response.

“I didn’t take the offer,” he snaps, quiet enough not to disturb Marci. “Not that you have any reason to care.”

“I didn’t want to waste time looking for you in the morning.”

But the gaze fixed on him now flickers with calculation, the same astuteness she turned on him after he let the elf go, as if he’s a puzzle box with no clear solution.

“She was a pretty enough thing,” she comments as he unfolds a horse rug over the straw as a makeshift bedsheet. “Many men would have gone after her.”

“Yeah, well – I’ve said it before.” He throws his head down on his folded arm. “I’m not most men.”

Now more than ever, he thinks ruefully as silence descends again. If he were the sort of person who believed the gods cared at all he’d wonder if they turned him into… whatever he is… as a punishment for hubris. For a little harmless flirting. He yanks the blanket up to his chin and rolls over – he’s slept in less comfortable places, but that doesn’t make the cold, prickly ground any less frustrating. A bed would have been much better. A bed with a bit of fun thrown in, for the both of them, and yet he chose to leave, and he’s going to go mad trying to work out why.

“You’re afraid,” Mirana says into the quiet. “Worried that what happened at Hauptstadt – what you became – that it’ll happen again.”

After a long moment, he unclenches his hand and sighs. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“For what good it will do, I can watch over you, if you like.”

He shifts. The offer feels unfamiliar. A dragon knight is sworn to protect others, and though the rational part of him knows if he does turn she’ll be dead before she realises it, there’s a warm glow of comfort from the assurance in her voice. She asks nothing of him, only honesty.

“If the transformation happens…”

“I’ll shoot you.” He hears the smirk.

“Thank you.” He squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the images his mind conjures, her blood on his hands, and prays to whichever gods are listening that if the worst comes her draw will be fast enough.

[hemmoangel]

Domesticated Erotica: Luke’s Hobby

Warning: I wrote a stupid drabble again and it sucks, but hey I’m writing again! Don’t read this is you hate gay smut!

——————————————————————————

Luke's face sucked in the sun's warmth that cascaded upon the Irwin's backyard. He was sat in a lawn chair with a steamy, romance novel in his hand. He was engrossed, reading every line like it were his oxygen supply. Luke's husband, Ashton, was cutting the grass. His shirt was off, and he was so focused that he barely paid attention to the other man's constant squirming.

Luke's squeezed his shaven legs together. He bit down on his lip, as he read:

"And his body was sun kissed. I had to restrain a moan when he gripped my hips. The prince wanted me."

His heart sped for the protagonist. He enjoyed the visuals of the male in the book, but he couldn't help but replace him with Ashton. When Luke thought of the prince in the book as Ashton, he grew more and more excited.

It was only when Ashton stopped that he noticed Luke's peculiar behavior. His cheeks were as red as a poppy field. The flush had spread from his cheeks to his nose, and he was letting out breaths in the form of pants.

Ashton shook his head fondly when he noticed the book in Luke's hand. Ashton loved Luke's lust for romance. It was adorable to watch him fawn over cheesy movies or even get sucked into a poorly written erotica. He grabbed a water bottle for the both of them; it looked like Luke needed something to drink.

"Hey, baby, you okay? Need some water?" Ashton asked in a teasing tone. Luke whimpered and jerked the water bottle from his hand.

"Stop," Luke said in a soft voice. He looked up at Ashton, gulping when he saw his bare chest. Ashton laughed; he drank some of the water from the bottle, then poured the rest all over his sizzling skin. Luke watched the water droplets pool down Ashton's chest into his belly button (or the indentation of his v-lines).

Luke closed the book to watch Ashton for that moment. Ashton felt his eyes and looked down at him.

"What? See something you like?" Ashton ran a hand through his curls. Luke huffed.

"Shut up, you cocky thing," Luke bit his lip to stop from smiling at Ashton's smirk. Ashton knelt down to Luke's height and thumbed over his red cheeks.

"Come inside. I want dinner," He pouted. Luke rolled his eyes and leaned into Ashton's hand.

"That's all I am to you," Luke kissed Ashton's palm. Ashton shook his head. He was delighted at their little game of banter. In a way, it turned him on to ruffle Luke's feathers. Sometimes, he even got the innocent boy to swear at him.

Ashton picked Luke up out of the chair. Luke desperately clutched his book and let out a little squeal.

"Ash!" He whined.

"You like it," Ashton smirked. Luke did, in fact. Ashton was so handsome and affectionate. It made Luke feel like one of the girls in his stories.

Inside of their large house, it was cool. Australia's sweltering heat could not penetrate their decorated walls. The kitchen was the room that connected with the back patio. Luke was placed on his feet, leaving him shorter than Ashton. Ashton kept his arms around Luke's waist.

"What's that book about anyways?" Ashton felt very intimate with Luke so close to him. Their lips were very close, and their hands roamed each other's body in a comforting way.

"Well—" Luke exhaled slowly when Ashton took the book and placed it on the counter. "This girl is a maid who works for this mean prince, but he is secretly in love with her. He buys her things, makes notes, etc., and she doesn't find him attractive until they're alone. Then, they start to have an intimate relationship..." Luke blushed. He was unable to go into details with Ashton.

Ashton pulled Luke subconsciously closer. He kissed down Luke's jaw, approving of his answer.

"Suddenly, seeing you all worked up has left me thinking about something other than food," He murmured. Luke gasped.

"I don't even think of the guy on the cover. I think about you when I read it," Luke admitted. The angel confessed to why he enjoyed the dirty novel. Ashton bit his lip.

"Oh, so you read it for the dirty parts?" Ashton growled and tried not to touch Luke's bum just yet.

"Y-Y-Yes..." Luke whined and looked up at his husband.

It was the thought of Luke doing something bad on his own accord that really got to Ashton. Luke was a very sweet, innocent, little hubby who never told anyone about their sex life and followed Ashton's orders as gospel. He never even touched himself without permission.

Ashton licked his lips.

"Why don't you and I get a little champagne and go upstairs, baby?" Ashton hummed. Luke fluttered his eyelashes.

"You get the champagne, and come meet me?" He whispered.

"Okay, princess," Ashton kissed Luke's cheek sweetly. Luke smiled and nearly sprinted away up the stairs.

Luke decided he was going to take advantage of all the romance. He searched his drawers and found a scarlet colored nightie. He changed into it, watching his big bum swallow the thin panties. The gown itself only grazed his mid-thigh.

Luke stared at himself in the mirror, then sat on the bed quickly when he heard Ashton's footsteps.

"I put strawberries in yours—" Ashton was cut off by the sight; he placed their drinks down slowly, “dear God...”

Luke blushed, fumbling with the silky fabric dancing on his skin.

“You like it?” He whispered.

“Do I?!” Ashton almost scoffed. He reached and pulled Luke close by his hips. “You’re so beautiful...” He groaned. Luke whimpered in response, pulling Ashton closer.

Ashton rubbed underneath the nightie and grabbed Luke’s flesh through his underwear. He shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re not real,” Ashton whispered, and Luke smiled because:

“You always say that,” He answered.

“It’s always true...” Ashton had a fond smirk at Luke’s light sass. He kissed down the bleach blonde’s neck and let the straps of the gown fall down his arms. His lips caressed Luke’s skin like silk, mumbling soft things into it about the taste. Luke closed his eyes and sighed softly.

“Ashy...Daddy...” His cherried lips pouted in a heart shape. Ashton chased them, growling in response.

“Is this what those guys do in your books?” He purred, tugging at Luke’s silky panties until they slid down his milky thighs. Luke nodded with flushed cheeks.

Ashton bit his lip on a smirk, rubbing up Luke’s legs and sighing softly.

“But, bunny. Don’t you think they’re a little vanilla for you?” Ashton teased, “Considering your a cockhungry brat...” He mumbled the last part considerably lower, but Luke heard perfectly. The tips of his ears turned red.

“Well, I read them when I’m lonely,” Luke said softly.

“Sweet sweet boy...” Ashton groaned, “It’s such a shame you’ve been so good and haven’t touched yourself. Otherwise, I’d have an excuse to spank this peachy ass of yours,” He continued, though it wouldn’t even be a punishment for Luke.

“You could always do that...” Luke blushed and bit his lip. Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, giving him a single harsh slap.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Ashton ordered softly and pushed Luke on his hands and knees, burying himself in Luke’s bum, licking over his entrance out of habit. He liked the nightgown fell over his face.

Luke gasped, falling into the pillows. “Oh fuck, Ash...”

Ashton pulled Luke harder onto his tongue and furrowed his brows in concentration, loving the taste of his twinky bum. He always ended up here, eating Luke out to forget about the world. It was a soft and safe place because Luke’s ass was as big as Jupiter.

He spit on the opening and growled.

“Pretty fucking hole...” Ashton nosed at the flesh of Luke’s bum. Luke blushed across his nose and whimpered, already fucked out and crying like a pornstar.

“T-They definitely don’t do this in erotic novels,” Luke whined. Ashton hummed.

“Yeah? They’re not really gay-sex-inclusive. C’mere and get my cock wet,” Ashton mumbled and laid back.

Luke grinned happily, racing to sink down on Ashton with his wet mouth. Ashton loved watching his hot pink lips wrap around him. He gripped the bleach blonde curls in his hand and shook his head.

“Swear you like this more than sex...” Ashton growled, gripping himself at the base and slapping Luke’s tongue with his length. Luke giggled and let his eyes roll back in response. Ashton sighed.

“Don’t make me cum. I want to cum in you,” He shoved Luke’s head down to hear him gag. Luke rubbed against the bed in response. Ashton almost died, watching him. Luke’s eyes got glossy like sapphires. His hair fell over his eyebrows, and his beautiful rosy lips were dripping with saliva and precum. Ashton loved him so much. How could such a profane scene make him feel so romantic?

Ashton pulled Luke up into his lap, allowing him to adjust the way he liked. Luke did so by immediately taking all of Ashton like a greedy whore. And Ashton’s heart swelled.

“What a bitch. What a fucking slut of a boyfriend I have. So soft and pretty. So desperate. I know you fucking rub against a pillow, thinking about me fucking you like we’re in a forbidden romance...” He rambled, closing his eyes and desperately guiding Luke’s hips.

Luke’s lips parted with little pants, “O-Of course...” he whined.

Ashton fucked up into him hard, bruising his hips and bum with his harsh grips. Seeing the nightgown fall off of Luke’s shoulder and the soft skin of his hands and legs made him lose his mind. He flipped them over when he decided he needed all of the control.

Luke felt overwhelmed, always being ripped apart and reminded of his place. He tossed his head back and panted.

“Daddy...Daddy...please! Please...”

Ashton’s stomach flipped, “Please what?”

“Please fill me up...” Luke’s eyes crossed, and he progressively more high pitched and whiny.

Ashton was getting sloppier and more lost in Luke, cumming inside of Luke without looking away from him.

And Luke held his until he was instructed to let go. He fisted the sheets and stared up at Ashton.

“Pretty, pretty, please, Daddy!” He whined. Ashton wrapped a hand around him hazily, watching him with hooded eyes.

“Cum for Daddy,” he whispered. Luke’s mind became devoid of all thoughts, and he didn’t even remember his own name. He arched his back from the bed, somehow managing to make soft little “uh” sounds. He felt as if the only place in the world was Ashton’s arms. He stared at him with big doe eyes and scratched at his arms.

“Daddy...” He panted, and Ashton kissed him.

“Shhh,” Ashton held him and nosed at his cheek, “Let’s relax.”

They did, and Ashton even ended up reading Luke’s book aloud like a bedtime story.

[potatocrab]

Salvation is a Last Minute Business (18/18)

Chapter 18/Epilogue: We Could Go Places

Madelyn finally earns her happy ending.

“With my brains and your looks, we could go places.” - Frank Chambers as played by John Garfield (The Postman Always Rings Twice, 1946)

That’s all she wrote! Thank you to anyone to joined me on this wonderful journey! 😭

[read on Ao3] | [series masterpost]

June 22nd, 1958

“You’re late.”

Madelyn laughed at the sound of Nick’s voice, calling out to her the moment she arrived at the agency that morning, the bell above the front door indicating her presence. Her amusement persisted as she walked through the lobby, observing the care packages that filled the space. Even Ellie’s desk was covered with boxes and flower bouquets—more than what had been present the previous evening, or the day before that. There were more gifts scattered throughout the room, all sent in congratulations after news of Valentine Detective Agency’s success spread across Boston. Taking down Eddie Winter was one thing but solving a decade-old missing persons case and exposing a government conspiracy was another. Nobody expected the ragtag detective and his lawyer broad to take expose the Institute—not that anybody knew the university were hiding such abhorrent secrets in the first place.

She leaned against the doorway of Nick’s office, surprised by the lack of clutter that typically covered his desk. The stacks of case files and reports had been boxed away, leaving the room the cleanest she’d seen in years. Well, except for the small sprinkling of cigarette ash on the oak wood that he’d failed to hide—hell would freeze over before Nick Valentine gave up that habit. All that remained on his desk, aside from the usual decorations, was a single newspaper and a bottle of Irish whiskey, two perfectly poured glasses on standby. A Sunday tradition. 

Madelyn grinned. “I think I’m right on time.”

“I wonder if Grace Kelly received this many flowers when she won best actress,” she joked, walking over to take her usual seat in the armchair to the left.

Nick chuckled, rounding the desk to join her with the two glasses in hand, the bottle and newspaper tucked under his arm. “I’ll let you know when I start feeling like a Princess.”

“You should see Piper’s office,” he added, passing her one whiskey-filled glass and the weekend edition of Publick Occurrences before sitting down. “Gal’s been flooded with offers from all over the state, including the Bugle, to run their editorial departments.”

“She’ll never take them,” Madelyn contended. “She has enough resources and connections to finally fund a full staff. Maybe finally move into a bigger office and give us the space back so we can do the same.”

Even though Nick smiled at the idea, he reeled in his excitement. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Madelyn feigned innocence, shrugging as she hid her grin behind a generous gulp of whiskey.

He glanced at her curiously, smiling against the rim of his cup as he also took a drink. He expertly diverted the conversation. “So, where were you this morning?”

She considered lying just for the fun of it, but decided the truth was just as shocking. “Church.”

“Madelyn Hardy, once again attending Sunday mass,” Nick replied, shaking his head in humorous disbelief. “I thought I’d never see the day.”

Neither did she. Madelyn was sure she had lost her faith the day her husband died, buried it along with Nate to be forgotten. His death, and her survival was more than guilt—it was sin. And then, one New Year’s Eve party later, everything changed. She’d been tested over the last several months, and despite the grief and the loss, she was also at peace. Nate was at peace. Somewhere along the way, she’d found salvation.

“You could say I’m a changed woman.”

Nick considered her words in comfortable silence, the two slowly drinking their whiskey while exchanging soft, lingering smiles. It was reminiscent of the ‘good-ol-days’, but calmer. He said what she was already thinking. “I’ve changed too. We all have.”

Madelyn contemplated asking if he had any regrets, or if everything they had done was for the best when he silently gestured towards the newspaper draped across her lap. She glanced down, smirking at Piper’s headline. Reunited!

“She’s finally learned to reel it in,” she jested, looking over the picture of Shaun Pearlman—now eleven years old—standing with his parents, Nathan and Nora.

“After such headlines as The Boogeyman Banished, and The Synthetic Truth,” Nick’s laughter was at the expense of their dearest reporter friend. “The article speaks for itself. It’ll take some adjusting, but the kid will be alright.”

Madelyn studied the family portrait again, focusing on their smiling, overjoyed faces. “It isn’t everyday that somebody gets a happy ending.”

“They’ve earned it,” Nick remarked, just the slightest hint of sorrow passing through his light green eyes. Jenny—the heartache would never go away. He remained silent, but his smirk slowly returned, encouraging her to continue reading through the newspaper.

Inside, there was a picture of Hancock—John McDonough—formally announcing his plans to run for mayor in the 1959 election. He had already been working with the interim mayor after his brother’s death, ensuring that any lingering Institute corruption was snuffed out. His platform hadn’t changed much—of the people, for the people—and judging by the large outpouring of support, a lot of Bostonians dug what he was offering.

“Are you going to vote for him?” Madelyn teased, chuckling when Nick grumbled a sigh and rolled his eyes without an answer.

There was another article about Preston Garvey and his Minutemen, reclaiming their post in Quincy now that the Gunners had been successfully chased out of town. MacCready had found a place in their ranks, grinning like the sun was shining out of his ass in the group picture that accompanied the article. It was a good fit for the former mercenary, even if Preston was a little weary about accepting him at first. The network of neighborhood watchmen were supported by the newly reformed Boston Police, Sergeant Danny Sullivan himself promising to oversee their continued partnership.

Correction—Deputy Chief Danny Sullivan—earning quite the promotion after the fall of the Institute exposed and removed more corrupted individuals from power. He was running his own campaign, recruiting the best and brightest minds to fill the ranks throughout Boston’s precincts with the promise that integrity and stability were there to stay.

“Still have a long way to go,” Nick commented, his distrust of the system would linger too. “But it’s a start.”

Madelyn nodded in agreement, flicking her eyes to another one of Piper’s headlines—Mr. Danse Goes to Washington.

“He’s not going to be happy when he finds out about this,” she laughed.

“The Lieutenant will get over being compared to Jimmy Stewart,” Nick replied. “The man’s a war hero, isn’t he?”

Her laughter continued as she read over the article, trying not to imagine Lieutenant Danse in a comedic movie from the past, and instead as the dignified officer he was. The headline was tongue in cheek but accurate—he’d gone to Washington, D.C. to testify on capitol hill about what occurred at Fort Hagen between the Institute and the United States military. He’d also promised Nick and Madelyn that he’d watch over the federal investigation closely, ensuring another cover-up didn’t take place.

“Here,” Nick spoke, standing to snag a second, unseen Publick Occurrences from his desk. “Special edition. Hot off the presses, as Piper would say.”

Madelyn exchanged copies with him, setting down her glass so she could examine the front headline closely. Valentine and Hardy—The Unstoppables.

“So are you the Silver Shroud or The Inspector?” she giggled, covering her mouth.

“Ha, ha, Mistress of Mystery,” he retorted sarcastically, sitting back down across from her.

There was a picture of them standing in front of the office building, the neon light of the agency sign burning brilliantly behind them. The longer she stared at it, the larger her smile became, warmth radiating through her body. She’d never felt more proud or honored to be a part of something important. She felt at home.  

“This is going to give you more exposure than you’ve ever had,” she remarked, tapping the paper with her fingers. “There’s going to be people lining out the door asking for your help!”

“Our help,” Nick corrected with a small smile, leaning forward in his chair. “That is, if you’re still up to the task of being my partner.”

“Of course Nick,” Madelyn answered immediately, unable to stop from grinning. “You’d be hard pressed to find a woman as willing as I am to put up with your brand of bullshit.”

He laughed, louder and heartier than she’d heard him sound in a long time. “Has anyone ever told you how charming you are?”

Madelyn tilted her head to the side. “Funny you should mention that.”

The laughter settled into quiet mirth as Nick looked into his empty glass with a sigh. “I need a vacation first.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he echoed. “Starting with a proper meal. Care to join me?”

Any other time and Madelyn would’ve said yes. She frowned as she shook her head. “I have a date.”

“That’s nothing to pout about,” Nick smirked. The detective—her partner—regarded her with a warm smile. “I can forgive you this one time.”

The warmth had settled in her heart, and she wondered if she was glowing as she smiled at him, the happiest she’d felt in years. Nick reached over to gently clasp her hand, squeezing her fingers as he spoke. “It’s a good look, Madelyn.”

She stood up, leaning over the small distance to place a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Nick.”

“Sure, sure,” he watched her as she left, lingering only for a moment in the doorway. “See you later, doll.”  

Madelyn sat in the vinyl blue booth of the Slocum’s Joe, gazing out the window and watching as people passed by on the sidewalk. Cambridge wasn’t nearly as busy since the Institute’s downfall, but hundreds of people still called considered the Boston neighborhood their home—including her. She’d made occasional trips to her apartment in the last few weeks but had only recently started living in D7 again now that she was sure it was safe. Codsworth and Dogmeat were more than pleased to have her home, the Mister Handy unit suffering a bout of anxiety after being separated from his mistress—even if it shouldn’t have been possible with his programing. Even now, the robot had difficulty letting her out of his sight, and she laughed when she noticed Codsworth across the street, hovering about as he walked Dogmeat, a leash tied to one of his metal arms.

“What’s so funny?”

She glanced up to find Deacon setting down two cups of coffee before sliding into the booth across from her. Two sugars and a little bit of cream for her, straight black for him. He wasn’t in his usual suit, swapped out for something far more casual and befitting for summer, black wig left forgotten on her bedside table. Of course, he’d never leave without securing his sunglasses—his eyes were only for her to see.

Madelyn titled her head, gesturing out the window as she took a slow sip. “It seems I’m always destined to have somebody stalking me.”

“I take offense to that,” he held a hand over his chest, feigning attack from her teasing words. “To imply that I stalked you.”

Madelyn struggled to contain her giggling behind her cup. “Hmm, and what would you call it?”

“Careful observation from afar,” he said, brows furrowing for a moment as he inspected the contents of his coffee before taking a careful taste—always with the suspicion. You can’t trust everyone, even the barista at their regular coffeehouse, it seemed.  

“What would you call it now?”

Deacon smirked at her flirtatious question. “An up-close and personal liaison.”

Madelyn smiled, her heart racing in excitement as it usually did when they danced around this subject. There still hadn’t been much of a discussion—or a confession—since their infiltration of the Institute. No clear conversation about what their relationship meant. It didn’t stop them from acting like lovers, a constant stop-and-go ever since the evening she got shot, pausing when they needed to focus on the case instead of romance. Now that there were no more distractions, what she desperately yearned for was full steam ahead. She darted her eyes back out the window, forcing her mind to stop before she spiraled into anxiety and doubt. She was happy—right?

Deacon’s hand reached over the table to cover hers. “Do you want to go to D.C.?”

She glanced back to his face, momentarily surprised by his question. Any joke she thought about making—that everybody was going south—fell away. “With you?”

His expression faltered. “No, with Drummer Boy,” he said sarcastically.  

“I dunno,” she nervously laughed, humor the only defense mechanism she could rely on. “Robby makes for a pretty good date when you aren’t—”

“Charmer,” he groaned, fingers tightening around hers, even though a smile dared to pull at his lips.

“Is this one of your business trips?” she persisted. “Or would this be for pleasure?”

“Why can’t it be both?” he responded, and it sounded witty enough, except all traces of humor had disappeared. “Can’t you tell when a guy is trying to be serious?”

Madelyn swallowed, and released a shaky breath. “What is it?”

Deacon didn’t say anything, and she was afraid she’d scared him off with her teasing. Minutes passed before he finally reached up and removed the darkened shades from his face, placing them on the table next to their forgotten coffee cups. Blue eyes locked on blue, but still, he remained silent.

“What do you want?” she prompted, slowly turning her hand over to lace their fingers. “Deacon?”

She’d seen that emotion in his eyes before—just last week—when he tried to tell her something important, and she denied him the opportunity. This time, she wasn’t afraid.

“I want…”

“Je t’aime,” she answered, filling the silence when he trailed off. His eyes widened, the shock quickly subsiding as a bright smile pulled at his lips. Madelyn knew it was a simple saying, but still translated. “I love you.”

“I—”

Not everyday that Deacon was at a loss for words. He suddenly moved, slipping out from his side of the booth and swiftly sliding in to join her. Madelyn turned to meet him, laughing as the butterflies swarmed her stomach like she was experiencing this—love—again, all for the first time. He leaned in close so only she could hear.

“Je t’aime,” he repeated with an ever-growing smile. “I love you too.”

There was nothing left to say, so he kissed her instead. Madelyn smiled against his lips, sighing when his arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace. Deacon was still grinning when they parted, eyes shining with an emotion she wanted to keep there forever. He pulled her close, and she rested her head against his shoulder, switching her gaze back outside.

The sun was shining, and she was happy.

[nessaiscute]

A high school confession

AN: This is an experiment might make a bigger thing bout of this also its time for some fluff

“Try not to embarrass yourself.” Stated Mab as I left the Castle.

Same old bs, never a ‘good luck’, or, ‘do your best.’ Always about the kingdom and my eventual inheritance, I will rule the Ice court, I will make descions that will affect millions of people. Knights will depend on me, servants will want guidance. Other courts will want to challenge me. Seems…. A lot for someone like me. A teenage fairy, but it is the life I have to lead once i graduate. But thats not till a long time down the road at least a year. 

I got on the carriage and we went to the human world, to the high school I attend.

 The carriage pulled up to Fallbrook high school, not too bad of a school. I mean we have our bully issues and teachers don’t really care but we don’t have to worry about Gangs. The leaders of the nevenever make sure of that. It's a red brick building with a flagpole in the middle.When I got out of the carriage, I was greeted by a red haired boy. A summer fairy but a treasured one.

“Hey ice boy. Have you seen the princess?”

My nerves were instantly shot, “Do you not know where she is?”

“I… I saw her at breakfast but then i heard a welp and she vanished.”

Son of a bitch!!

I bolted straight into the building, people moving out of my way as I bulldoze into hall, Puck going after me.

“Ice boy! Slow down! You don’t know if shes in trouble!”

But I did, i knew exactly what happened. I knew that she was hurting her. I swer this time I’ll kill that freak!

My heart was beating faster then I thought it ever could, why am I reacting this way? Its not like this is the first time its happened. But I could barely keep track of her glamour, It was getting weaker and weaker. Gods no, please if there is any beings of higher power out there protect her. Please protect her…

Sure enough As i turned to the gym, a Black teeanger had blonde teenager in a choke hold. The blonde teeanger had tears forming in her eyes, my rage erupting like a volcano. My ice glamour exploded freezing everything around The black teeanger, she stepped on ice and fell on her butt letting the blonde go.

“Meghan!” I shouted and rushed towards her.

Meghan fell to the ground and I caught her, i scooped up her fragile body in my arms.

“Meghan! Talk to me!”

I heard a growl from behind me and Puck sheriked as I felt a fist lunge at me.

I tanked the blow,  everyone told me stories bout Tyras monster strength. Gangers won’t mess with her cause of how scary she is. But she didn’t impress me, her punch hurt but it was nothing I haven’t handled before. I shot an ice spike to get her to jump in the air. Tyra landed gracecfully on the ground.

“I’ve had enough of you getting in my way of beating retard!” Tyra snarled.

I told Puck to come over he did, I handed him Meghan and told the two to get out of here. They left. But by this point a crowd had gathered.

“Tyras gonna fight the ice prince!” Said a student.

“No, Tyras gona destory the ice prince. No one can handle Tyra.” Said a teacher.

Tyra cracked her knuckles grinning, “I’ve been looking forward to this, youre hot but youre too nice. Im going to fix that.”

“Is that right?” I smirked.

I slowly walked around, in a slow mocking matter. Bending my knee, her brown eyes glaring at me. People asked what I was doing, I walked around her slowly. Finally she shouted and lunged

I blocked her punch and pushed her off me, I did not strike her. She got ready for another punch, and she went through with her attack, this time she missed. I leaned out of the way, Tyra tried to bear hug me but I slide under her. 

“FIGHT ME!!” Tyra roared.

Suddenly an ice blast froze Tyra solid, I looked around and there was the principle. He glared at me.

“Mr. Johnson?” I asked surprised.

“What happened young man!” Mr. Johnson snapped.

“Tyra attacked Meghan Chase sir,”I replied, “I was defending my friend.”

Mr Johnson was trained by my mom to use Ice glamour, he takes no crap from any of the students and hes very strict. He puffed and singled for a cop.

“Take Miss Tyra away she will be expelled if Ash is…”

Suddenly Mr. Johnson’s phone rang, it was the nurse.

“What is it miss bells?”

“What? Miss Chase is unconscious?”

Everyone gulped.

“Everyone get to class! NOW!”

We all scattered.

I went straight to home room, I was sure I was going to get jumped Tyra was very popular. I know people were going to be pissed. In fact I got sneers and glares as I walked through the halls. I expected someone to try and deck me.

But I was greeted by Puck, who looked sad.

“Hey, how is she?”

“She won’t wake up ice boy. They called in an ambulance.”

Darn it!

I patted Pucks shoulder, “She’s been through hell before, she’ll get out again.”

Puck touched my hand and smiled at me, “Youre right.”

We both sat down, and class started. It seemed like nothing changed, Meghan was gone but no one seemed to care. Meghan was a huge part of all of our classes too. The teacher didn’t seem to notice that no one was answering questions besides me. Its normally me and Meghan.

“The left index.” I answered.

“Very good Ash.” The teacher replied.

A student laughed, “Man, I can’t believe that rere was holding Ash back.”

Bile rose in my throat, Meghan has had mental illnesses for as long as I remember. Its been the number one reason for her being bullied.

“Meghan wasn’t holding back anything I-”

“Rere!” The student snapped, “Gods how long have you been here? Learn the terminology fairy!”

“Meghan is not a ‘rere’ or whatever you call her. She's just as important to this class as I am.”

“Ugh, what is she? your girlfriend or something??” The student yelled

Everyone gasped like he just dropped an F bomb.

The teacher jumped in, “Anthony leave Ash alone. Theres no way he would date Miss chase. Now lets get back to the lesson.”

The class went on without a hitch though that accusation never left my mind.

What is she? Your girlfriend or something?

Did I see Meghan like that? She's been my friend for as long as I remember. She's my best friend. I feel content when shes around, when we’re cuddling and I can feel her heartbeat. When we’re watching a movie, when I’m fighting off bullies for her. I even defied my mom to be her friend, it was the one argument I ever won against my mom. Even as a king I will never abandon Meghan, I’ll run away from the throne if I have to I-

Oh. I am in love with her.

The class ended and I was called to the nurse’s office. I power walked there, my heart racing as I opened the door…

“You’re late.” Greeted Meghan.

The smile ran across my face before I realized it, “It took forever to get out of class.”

She opened her arms and I took her in mine.

“When Tyra grabbed me that time….I thought it was over.” She sobbed.

“I took care of it. Shes expelled.”

“Isn’t that only going to make things worse?” Meghan asked.

“Nope.” The nurse shook her head, “The students have gotten a clear warning. Anything happens to you over her jail will be next. Now, I have lunch to grab, you two stay here.”

The nurse left and it was just me and Meghan, my heart going into over drive. I wanted to tell Meghan how I felt. That I’m in love with her, I sat down next to her.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Meghan asked.

I nodded.

“Are you okay?”

“I… I need to tell you something.”

Now or Never.

“What is it?”

I took a deep breathe gathering my thoughts, It was time to face this.

“I love you.”

The words didn’t register right away, she just said, “huh?”

“I really love you.” I repeated.

Meghan gasped, her eyes smacked with shock. Did I make a mistake?

She looked down, my heart was bout to fall into the depths of hell when she said, “Um…. Can you give me some time to think Ash? After school, meet me at the front gate. I’ll see you then.”

Meghan then ran away and I just went to class.

“Man youre lame.” Puck stated.

“Shut up Summer shit.” I snarled.

“Seriously that was the best you could come up with? Although I’m honestly shocked this didn’t happen sooner.”

“Whats that suppose to mean?” I asked.

“Ive known you both for bout 5 years and from the moment I met you… Ive had to deal with the soft stares and cuddling and couple fights. I remember when Tyra first started bullying her, and she cried that no one was going to care if she died. And You got really mad at her and you both started yelling until you screamed ‘if you died I’d rip out her heart myself’ and you both stared at each other mouths agape till I had to bring up the newest book coming out.”

Puck was right, although it was embarrassing to hear him bring up the past.

“So, were you joking?”

I swatted at him, “Of course I wasn’t!”

Puck Patted my head, “Good luck lover boy!” 

He ran away before I could kill him.

I went to the front gate and Meghan was waiting for me.

“Hello Ash.” Meghan Greeted.

“Hey, Um, can I have your answer?”

My whole life hangs on this.

Meghan smiled softly, “I… was so happy when you told me. Thank you. But here is the thing…. I can’t believe you actually said it. and...I’m wondering if you made a bet with Michael. To see if it would be funny…. So i have to ask… were you joking?”

Tears were forming in her eyes when she asked if I was joking, what exactly do people take me for.

“No i meant it.”

“You… do know im not normal right??” Meghan asked shocked, “I’m not pretty like the other girls. I like dumb things and I can barely do anything right. And then there is the fact I'm on adhd medication. People will always judge me for that, I just doze off and I get mad quite easily; I annoy people very easily…. One of my favorite thing bout you is how patient you are with me. If…. we start dating that patience will be tested to its limit. You’ll have to deal with that stuff all the time. I… don’t want to be a pest to you.”

This foolish…

“You aren’t a pest Meghan!”

Meghan gasped and i kept going.

“Hell I love you doing those things, do them all the time. I don’t get those anime cartoons you watch nor do I understand shipping and all of that but I want to be with you every step of the way. As for your mental illness I love you, all of you, especially those parts. There's nothing you could do to make me lose my patience in you. Hell, I don't even consider it a test of patience. Being with you is a choice I make. I make it every day, and I’ll keep making it till the end of time.”

“Ash….” Meghan gasped, “Has anyone ever told you… that you're dangerous to a woman's heart.” her face was flushed.

“Do love me Meghan? Cause I can’t stand the thought of not being with you. I can do anything but losing you would destroy me.”

“Yes. I love you, Ash Please be my boyfriend.”

I walked towards her, took her face in my hands and kissed her. She coiled her arms around me and I crushed her to me. She was mine, Nothing will ever change that.

[sifeng]

2019′s Guzhuang Dramas

Looking for a guzhuang to watch? Here’s a full compilation of the most popular ones! They will be ranked by the douban ratings (a Chinese rating site), and the MDL ratings will be in brackets. In a case of a tie, I chose the drama with a higher percentage of 5 star ratings on douban. In addition, the time period, main stars, plot and episode number will be provided:

Format: Name (Chinese Name) - Douban rating [MDL rating]

1. Love and Destiny (宸汐��) - 8.3 [8.7]

Time Period: Xianxia

Starring: Zhang Zhen (张震), Ni Ni (倪妮)

Episode Number: 60

Plot: A love story between the God of War and a young maiden whose very existence can bring harm to the world.

Related Shows: Eternal Love (三生三世十里桃花), Ashes of Love (香蜜沉沉烬如霜), The Journey of Flower (花千骨)

2. The Untamed (陈情令) - 8.3 [9.4]

Time Period: Wuxia

Starring: Xiao Zhan (肖战), Wang Yibo (王一博)

Episode Number: 50

Plot: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are two completely different people from two different worlds. Lan Wangji was born in the prominent Sect of the Gusu Lan. Due to his great achievements and reputation, he was seen as a hero, the role model of everyone in the cultivation world and is known to appear wherever chaos is. While Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch,was a name that was feared by everyone. He has done many heroic things in his life, but also really cruel ones. In the end, Wei Wuxian was "killed" by his best friend and only survivor of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Jiang Cheng, who was once like a brother to him, after he became too evil for the world to exist. At least that is what the legend says. Sixteen years after his so-called “death”, Wei Wuxian suddenly reappeared again at the Mo Village. 

3. The Longest Day in Chang An (长安十二时辰) - 8.3 [8.9]

Time Period: Tang Dynasty

Starring: Lei Jiayin (雷佳音), Jackson Yee (易烊千玺)

Episode Number: 48

Plot: 744 A.D, Chang’an. The remnants of a vanquished Central Asian kingdom have infiltrated the world’s largest city for a planned attack during the Lantern Festival. Meanwhile, the court is fraught with infighting. The aging Emperor is expected to announce the regency of the Right Chancellor during the festival and retreat to the mountains with his young lover. If the Right Chancellor becomes the regent, the reformist Crown Prince risks being deposed—or worse. Intelligence chief Li Bi, a young Taoist priest, and ally of the Crown Prince has only 24 hours to prevent both the attack and the regency. After a botched attempt to capture the infiltrators, Li Bi and his team call in the services of death row prisoner Zhang Xiao Jing — a war veteran, beloved police chief, and murderer of his last direct superior.

4. Young Blood (大宋少年志) - 8.2 [8.3]

Time Period: Song Dynasty

Starring: Zhang Xincheng (张新成), Zhou Yutong (周雨彤)

Episode Number: 42

Plot: During the Qingli Era, troubling affairs brew underneath the prosperity and stability of the Northern Song Dynasty. To avoid war and protect the peace between its people, the Northern Song uses the name of "Mi Ge" (Secret Cabinet) to train young spies. For a variety of reasons and whether willing or unwilling, these six become the Seventh Room of Mi Ge after strict selection and examination: Yuan Zhong Xin, Zhao Jian, Xiao Jing, Wang Kuan, Xue Ying, Wei Ya Nei. Upon first entering the school, each acts out of their own self-interest, making a mess of their surroundings and causing headaches for their teachers. After going through a series of life-and-death missions, the previously ignorant boys and girls gradually mature and form bonds with one another, devoting their determination and loyalty to defending the peace. Burying their names, they become unknown legends within the river of history. 

5. Goodbye My Princess (东宫) - 7.6 [8.4]

Time Period: Fictional

Starring: Chen Xingxu (陈星旭), Peng Xiaoran (彭小苒)

Episode Number: 55

Plot: A love story revolves around the 9th Princess of Western Liang as she journeys to the Central Plains to fulfill a marriage alliance with the Crown Prince. Two parallel lines begin to intersect in a place fraught with danger and deadly power play and buried somewhere deep inside are memories that have yet to resurface.

6. The Birth of the Drama King (少年江湖物语) - 7.5 [7.7]

Time Period: Wuxia

Starring: Zhou Yanchen (周彦辰), Luo Mingjie (骆明劼)

Episode Number: 24

Plot: A hilarious comedy about two long lost brothers who meet again as enemies in the pugilistic world with the "righteous" hero infiltrating the "evil" dark lord's sect as an undercover agent. Hijinks ensue when the introverted hero tries to befriend the temperamental dark lord by following his master's self-help book on "how to make a friend in ten days." 

7. Hot Blooded Youth (热血少年) - 7.2 [7.9]

Time Period: Chinese Republic

Starring: Huang Zitao (黄子韬), Zhang Xueying (张雪迎)

Episode Number: 58

Plot: A legendary story about a young man who overcomes many hardships to become a formidable force in the Shanghai Bund. Xiong Tian grew up in the streets. With nothing to his name, he works a thankless job just to make a living. Nonetheless, he is quick-witted, talented and exceptionally gifted in steam-powered machinery. By chance, he gets pulled into a complicated fight and works his way to become a champion.

8. Once Upon A Time in Lingjian Mountain (从前有座灵剑山) - 7.2 [8.5]

Time Period: Wuxia

Starring: Xu Kai (许凯), Zhang Rongrong (张榕容)

Episode Number: 37

Plot: A story that follows Wang Lu, a young genius, who enters the Spirit Blade Sect and embarks on an unconventional journey towards immortal cultivation.

9. Candle in the Tomb (怒晴湘西) - 7.1 [8.2]

Time Period: Chinese Republic

Starring: Pan Yueming (潘粤明), Gao Weiguang (高伟光)

Episode Number: 21

Plot: The third season of the Candle in the Tomb series is set in the Republican era during a time when the warlords fight for power and bring disaster upon the people. Tomb raider and head of the Xieling Clan Chen Yu Lou joins hands with warlord Luo Lao Wai and heads to Xiangxi to explore tombs of the Yuan dynasty. On his journey he meets Zhe Gu Shao who is not interested in any treasures but wants to find a magical bead that can put an end to the curse on his clan. Yu Lou and Gu Shao eventually form an alliance to tread the untrodden path to the Yuan tombs.

10. Lovely Swords Girl (恋恋江湖) - 6.9 [7.7]

Time Period: Fictional

Starring: Jiang Zhenyu (姜贞羽), Wang Shize (王仕泽)

Episode Number: 24

Plot: Set in a fictional history rife with conflict and chaos, the story revolves around a sappy young woman who doesn't forget to laugh and chases after true love even as she gets caught in a love triangle. Through her journey, she grows into a loving person and thwarts an evil scheme in the pugilistic world.

11. Arsenal Military Academy (烈火军校) - 6.7 [8.7]

Time Period: Chinese Republic

Starring: Bai Lu (白鹿), Xu Kai (许凯)

Episode Number: 48

Plot: Xie Xiang joins the army in her brother's stead by pretending to be a man. She becomes classmates with the wealthy Gu Yan Zhen and the calm Shen Jun Shan. Through their rigorous training, the three form a bond to become comrades, all while Xie Xiang tries to keep her cover. After many incidents, Xie Xiang earns the respect of her peers and superiors. She also becomes the object of affections of the two men in her lives. The Japanese military stations more forces in the Northeast region causing the young heroes to engage in battle as they uncover a big conspiracy.

12. Detective L (绅探) - 6.5 [8.5]

Time Period: Chinese Republic

Starring: Bai Yu (白���), You Jingru (尤靖茹)

Episode Number: 24

Plot: Shanghai in the 30s: An intriguing crime case emerges amidst the bustling city. A beautiful new graduate of the police academy, Qin Xiao Man, joins the investigation unit. The famous detective Luo Fei becomes her colleague and neighbour.

13. The Love by Hypnotic (明月照我心) - 6.4 [8.3]

Time Period: Fictional

Starring: Fang Yilun (方逸伦), Ling Meishi (凌美仕)

Episode Number: 36

Plot: A princess and a prince who can't see eye to eye find themselves stuck in an arranged marriage. Yet they start opening up to each other because of hypnosis.

Related Shows: The Eternal Love (双世宠妃)

14. Love Better Than Immortality (天雷一部之春花秋日） - 6.3 [8.2]

Time Period: Fictional

Starring: Li Hongyi (李宏毅), Zhao Lusi (赵露思)

Episode Number: 40

Plot: A woman from the future arrives at a fantasy-like universe to experience love for the first time. She goes by the name Chun Hua and falls into a complicated romance with two young men who are opposites like black and white.

15. The Legends (招摇) - 6.2 [8.5]

Time Period: Wuxia

Starring: Bai Lu (白鹿), Xu Kai (许凯)

Episode Number: 56

Plot: While attempting to take her predecessor’s Wanjun Sword, Lu Zhao Yao is ambushed by the ten immortal sects and dies. She mistakenly believes Li Chen Lan, who is her best ally, is related to the incident after he is revealed to be the demon king’s son. Five years later, Li Chen Lan has taken over the position of the Wanlu sect leader, and Zhao Yao decides to exact revenge. She who is now a spirit, possesses the body of Qin Zhi Yan, a female disciple of the Immortal Sect, and with the help of the newly gained body, she becomes the direct disciple of Mo Qing aka Li Chen Lan with the aim of killing him. But things don’t go as she planned, when she slowly starts to fall in love with him instead.

16. Novoland: Eagle Flag (九州缥缈录) - 6.1 [8.0]

Time Period: Fictional

Starring: Liu Haoran (刘昊然), Song Zu’er (宋祖儿)

Episode Number: 56

Plot: Lu Gui Chen is the heir of the nomadic Qingyang tribe, and is sent to the Eastern Land as hostage. He meets Ji Ye, an unfavoured illegitimate son who is training to become a warrior, and Yu Ran, the princess of the Winged tribe. At the same time, powerful warlord Ying Wu Yi has been maintaining a firm control over the Emperor, giving him unprecedented power over the nobles. Lu Gui Chen, Ji Ye, and Yu Ran decide to join the decisive battle against Ying Wu Yi at Shangyang Pass, but unbeknownst to them, an even darker conspiracy is yet to unfold.

17. Princess Silver (白发) - 6.0 [8.1]

Time Period: Fictional

Starring: Zhang Xueying (张雪迎), Li Zhiting (李治廷)

Episode Number: 58

Plot: A story that follows a princess with amnesia who meets a prince that did not want to marry her and how they find a place for themselves despite the complications of the time.

18. Heavenly Sword and Dragon Saber (倚天屠龙记) - 5.8 [8.3]

Time Period: Wuxia

Starring: Zeng Shunxi (曾舜曦), Chen Yuqi (陈钰琪)

Episode Number: 50

Plot: Legend said that whoever obtains the Heavenly Sword and Dragon Slaying Saber can rule the world. Zhang Wuji was orphaned at a young age by schemes to discover secrets of these two weapons. Despite his preference to live a non-violent life, Wuji found himself embroiled in the struggles for power and must fight to save himself and others he loves...

Related Shows: The Legend of the Condor Heroes (射雕英雄传), The Return of the Condor Heroes (神雕侠侣), Demi Gods and Semi Devils (天龙八部), The Smiling Wanderer (笑傲江湖)

19. I Will Never Let You Go (小女花不弃) - 5.6 [7.8]

Time Period: Fictional

Starring: Lin Yichen (林依晨), Zhang Binbin (张彬彬)

Episode Number: 51

Plot: The story revolves around a young wanderer with an extraordinary business sense and the masked hero who saves her which ultimately results in them falling in love. When the wanderer is revealed to be the Divine Maiden who will obtain a legendary treasure, various enemies hunt her down. She then lives life on the run and meets her savior who turns out to be the ambitious prince that wants to take the throne.

20. The Plough Department of the Song Dynasty (大宋北斗司) - 5.3 [8.0]

Time Period: Song Dynasty

Starring: Xu Ke (徐可), Dai Luwa (代露娃)

Episode Number: 36

Plot: The Plough (Big Dipper) Department is a special investigation institution that works for the emperor of the Northern Song Dynasty. Tai Sui and his partners work together to break odd cases and punish the evils. Through a series of cases, Tai Sui found out there was a hidden conspiracy behind these cases, and it was related to his unknown past.

21. Please Give Me a Pair of Wings (请赐我一双翅膀) - 5.0 [8.1]

Time Period: Chinese Republic

Starring: Ju Jingyi (鞠婧祎), Yan Yalun (炎亚纶)

Episode Number: 60

Plot: It tells the story of Lin Jiu Ge, the daughter of Shanggu's Police Commissioner who was framed and unjustly imprisoned. She will have the help of young police detective Long Tian Yu to hopefully find the real murderer. Will Lin Jiu Ge be able to get her revenge?

22. Legend of Haolan (皓镧传) - 4.8 [7.8]

Time Period: Warring States Period

Starring: Wu Jinyan (吴谨言), Nie Yuan (聂远)

Episode Number: 62

Plot: During the Warring States Period, Li Hao Lan (Wu Jin Yan) is forced out of her own home and sold as a slave despite being the daughter of the Public Censor of Zhao. Purchased by Lu Bu Wei (Nie Yuan), she is gifted to Ying Yi Ren (Mao Zi Jun) a Qin Royal who is serving as a hostage to guarantee the armistice between the Qin and Zhao states. A dangerous battle begins in result of their arrival and they must rely on their wits to survive.

23. The Great Craftsman (筑梦情缘) - 4.6 [8.0]

Time Period: Chinese Republic

Starring: Hua Jianhua (霍建华), Yang Mi (杨幂)

Episode Number: 60

Plot: Military conflicts in the Warlord era has resulted in unbearable conditions. Amidst the chaos, Shen Qinan's family experiences a terrible misfortune. The four brothers and sisters overcome many hurdles to flee to Shanghai but they are forced to separate. Many years later, they will reunite again. Shen Qinan manages to climb from the depths of despair to make a name for himself as a famous architect in the Shanghai Bund. He meets Fu Hanjun, a gifted architect who puts the people's needs and traditional Chinese architecture at the heart of her designs. During Shanghai's development, Shen Qinan works hard to build affordable homes for the people. When the Second Sino-Japanese War erupted, Shen Qinan uncovers a conspiracy and plays his part to prevents many deaths.

24. Legend of the Phoenix (凤弈) - 4.6 [7.7]

Time Period: Fictional

Starring: He Hongshan (何泓姗), Xu Zhengxi (徐正溪)

Episode Number: 41

Plot: Set in the fictional Eastern Liang dynasty, circus performer Ye Ningzhi’s (He Hongshan) troupe enters the palace and stages a performance to celebrate the empress dowager’s birthday. The ambitious grand princess (emperor’s sister) decides to cause mischief by framing her for treason, though the heroine is saved by strategist Wei Guang (Xu Zhengxi), and falls in love at first sight with him. When Ye Ningzhi enters the palace two years later as the empress’ maid, she stands up for her fellow servants, and refuses to sacrifice her conscience in the face of power. Ye Ningzhi also works together with Wei Guang to crush the grand princess’ plan to usurp the throne, and catches the eye of the emperor in the process.

25. The New Legend of the White Snake (新白娘子传奇) - 4.4 [7.4]

Time Period: Fictional

Starring: Ju Jingyi (鞠婧祎), Yu Menglong (于朦胧)

Episode Number: 36

Plot: The story is set in Hangzhou, then the capital of the Southern Song court, and is about a 1,000-year-old snake spirit that's transformed into a beautiful woman and falls in love with a young man. However, a Buddhist monk intervenes.

26. Listening Snow Tower (听雪楼) - 4.3 [7.9]

Time Period: Wuxia

Starring: Qin Junjie (秦俊杰), Yuan Bingyan (袁冰妍)

Episode Number: 56

Plot: A story that follows the master of Listening Snow Tower and the woman that he loves. He is a martial arts expert known to be a dragon among men and she is known as the blood demon's daughter. 

27. Queen Dugu (独孤皇后) - 3.9 [7.4]

Time Period: Sui Dynasty

Starring: Chen Qiao’en (陈乔恩), Chen Xiao (陈晓)

Episode Number: 50

Plot: After their family was wrongfully persecuted due to the machinations of a corrupt official, Dugu Jia Luo held strict expectations for herself to be independent and strong even at a young age. Her husband Yang Jian is a man of great spirit. He is a warrior, skilled in battle, who rises up the ranks to become the Emperor. With Dugu Jia Luo by his side, they succeed in uniting the country under the Sui Dynasty. The husband and wife stay in a monogamous relationship despite their imperial status and come to be revered by people as the two saints due to their extraordinary contributions to a new golden age.

28. Investiture of the Gods (封神演义) - 3.3 [7.2]

Time Period: Shang/Zhou Dynasty

Starring: Luo Jin (罗晋), Wang Likun (王丽坤)

Episode Number: 56

Plot: In the time of King Zhou of Shang, the Gods are mostly gone and the demons trouble the human world. The Primeval Lord of Heaven decides to use the war between the Zhou and Shang dynasties to choose a new generation of Gods to ascend the celestial realm. His sends his apprentices forth in search of righteous candidates: Jiang Zi Ya assists Ji Fa in governing his new empire Zhou dynasty, Shen Gong Bao infiltrates the Shang dynasty with Su Da Ji seducing the king to rack havoc on the world, and Yu Ding Zhen Ren helps Yang Jian, a human with a third eye, to achieve his potential. The outcome of selection lies in the fates of humans.

Ongoing Dramas:

Joy of Life (庆余年) - 8.0 (ending 2/12/20)

Royal Nirvana (鹤唳华亭) - 7.5 (ending ??)

Sword Dynasty (剑王朝) - 6.8 (ending 1/11/20)

The Romance of Hua Rong (一夜新娘) - 6.8 (ending 12/31/19)

Blossom In Heart (海棠经雨胭脂透) - 6.6 (ending 12/19/19)

To Get Her (惹不起殿下大人) - N/A (ending 12/30/19)

The Mysterious World (天机十二宫) - N/A (ending ??)

Upcoming Dramas:

Dreaming Back to Qing Dynasty (梦回) - N/A (starting 12/14/19)

Disclaimer: Obviously these rankings are just based off of others’ opinions. I really liked “Heavenly Sword and Dragon Sabre” even though inseams the majority of people didn’t. Whatever show seems interesting to you, watch it! The majority of guzhuang dramas are made with delicacy and attention to detail. I’ve seen reviews complimenting some dramas with relatively lower ratings, so of course every drama has its fans. I would obviously suggest you all go and watch the top 5 if they sound interesting to you.

[razieltwelve]

Royalty and the Avatar (AtLA x LoK)

Korra gasped and strained against her bonds as the fingers inside her curled just so. The blindfold made it impossible to focus on anything but the sensations, and she could only arch her back and ride the waves of sensation that followed until she slumped back onto the bed, limp and exquisitely exhausted.

"Hmmm… I certainly can't fault your enthusiasm, but we do have to work on your endurance."

Azula tugged the blindfold off, and Korra stared as the other woman looked her straight in the eyes and licked her fingers clean. Spirits, that was hot.

"Are you really criticising me at a time like this?" Korra asked. She would have sat up, but she was currently tied quite securely to the head of the bed.

The princess's golden eyes gleamed in the twilight of the cabin, and Azula reached down to trail one finger along Korra's belly. Heat flickered to life, just shy of painful. "Self improvement is important, Korra. Isn't that what your instructors taught you?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm pretty sure they were referring to bending and not sex."

Azula's lips curled, and she leaned forward. It provided Korra with a wonderful view. "You know, when I first started chasing after you, I used to wonder what I'd do with you once I'd caught you." She smirked. "It's a good thing I never caught you back then. Killing you would have been such a waste." The words were accompanied by another heated look at Korra's bare body.

"Yeah, I'm glad to not be dead too." Korra grinned. "But do you think you could go back to describing your megalomaniacal plan? You were in the middle of covering that before you decided to tie me up and have your wicked way with me."

"Ah, yes, my megalomaniacal plan." Azula sat up, and a single candle flared to life. The azure light cast shadows across her face and body, and she looked equal parts alluring and imposing. Korra rolled her eyes. Azula was nothing if not theatrical at times. "Would you prefer it if I monologued, perhaps threw in a cackle or two, or would you prefer the simple version."

"I think the simple version would be best." Korra tested her bonds and sighed. Trust Azula to be ridiculously thorough even in a situation like this. "You can go into detail later."

"Very well." Azula sat down next to Korra and let her fingers trace whimsical paths across her body. "First and foremost, I want to assure you that I have no intention of trying to conquer the world."

"Right…"

"I mean it," Azula said. "I do think I would make an excellent ruler of the world, but conquering the entire world is simply impractical. The Fire Nation has neither the manpower nor the resources to conquer the world, never mind actually keep it under control."

"So, hypothetically, you would conquer the world if you thought you could?"

"You're better off not knowing the answer to that." Azula patted Korra's head fondly. "You'll sleep better at night. But, to return to matter at hand, it's really a simple matter of wanting what's best for the Fire Nation. Above all things, I am a patriot. I love the Fire Nation, and I want nothing but the best for it. This… war has dragged on for a century, and what do we have to show for it?"

"About a century of suffering and woe."

"Exactly." Azula held up one hand. Flame kindled around her fist, first orange, and then blue, and then blinding white. Korra shivered. Azula was the single most powerful fire bender she'd ever met, and it was a miracle she'd survived those early years when Azula had genuinely been trying to either kill her or capture her. "A foolish person might say that the Fire Nation has never been stronger, that we now control the North and South Poles and that we have subjugated most of the Earth Kingdom."

"And what would a smart person, presumably you, say?" Korra asked. Azula had many good qualities. Modesty was not one of them. Then again, was it really arrogance given what she'd accomplished so far?

"We hold the North and South Poles by the skin of our teeth. Oh, we've managed to grab hold of the major settlements, but it's getting harder and harder to fight off the resistance groups when they can melt back into the wilderness." Azula scowled. "Trying to fight off water benders in a land made almost completely of ice is the very definition of a bad idea. Oh, I've no doubt we could crush the Southern or Northern Water Tribes in a conventional battle, but they're not stupid. They're never going to give us a conventional battle."

"Yeah, that probably wasn't the greatest idea the Fire Nation has ever had." Korra snickered.

"Oh, be quiet," Azula grumbled. "And it's not like your ancestors have too much to be proud of. They somehow managed to lose despite the initial battles being conducted either at sea or on ice." The princess sighed. "The point of conquest, Korra, is that the conquerors should get something out of it. What does the Fire Nation get out of conquering the North or South Pole? We get constant trouble, land that none of our people want to live in, and vast sheets of ice and snow that serve no real purpose."

"Hey, there are resources in the North and South Pole," Korra countered. "How do you think my people have lived there for so long?"

"Well, of course, there are resources," Azula replied. "But they're the kind the Fire Nation could get far more easily through trade. Conquering the North and South Poles served no real purpose other vanity and bragging rights. Meanwhile, we're forced to waste almost a third of our entire military trying to keep them under control."

"Yeah," Korra said. "My people are pretty awesome."

"And then there's the Earth Kingdom." Azula covered her face with one hand. "By all the spirits, what were my ancestors thinking? The Earth Kingdom is absolutely massive and has multiple times the Fire Nation's population. How exactly were we ever going to maintain control over it?"

"Genocide?" Korra made a face. "I'm pretty sure at least one of your ancestors advocated that."

"Yes," Azula ground out. "My grandfather, an otherwise reasonable man, did propose wiping out the Earth Kingdom's inhabitants and replacing them with Fire Nation citizens." She snarled. "Lunacy! Madness! We are warriors not butchers, and I would have the Fire Nation stand ascendant over a prosperous world, not a world of ash and bones."

"Well, I'm glad you can agree that genocide is evil."

"Defeating the Earth Kingdom in battle was a foregone conclusion," Azula continued. "Their lack of tactical acumen is matched only by their lack of technological progress. However, the sheer size and population of the Earth Kingdom means that occupying it long term is an exercise in futility. The Fire Nation simply lacks the manpower and resources to accomplish that." Azula shivered. "And the less I say about our attempts to attack the Air Nomads, the better. Oh, we had some success initially when we caught them off guard, but since then…"

"So… you want to stop the fighting?" Korra asked. "You? The youngest, most successful general in Fire Nation history?"

"If this war continues," Azula replied. "The Fire Nation will eventually lose. It will take years, and we will inflict terrible wounds on our enemies, but we will lose, and do you think they will be in a merciful mood when we do?" Azula shook her head. "No. They will rip us limb from limb. It is far better to seek an end to hostilities now while we are in a position of strength."

"But you can't end the war," Korra pointed out. "You're not Fire Lord."

"No, I am not." Azula's eyes shimmered, and the blue candle flame roared. "But I could be."

"Ah." Korra nodded slowly. "I see."

"My father truly believes that we can conquer the world and keep it. With Sozin's Comet arriving in a matter of months, he's even come up with a plan. He wants to burn the whole Earth Kingdom and the North and South Poles."

"…" Korra gaped. "That… that might just be the most scarily idiotic thing I've ever heard."

"Yes. Even with the power boost the comet would give us, there simply aren't enough fire benders to burn more than a fraction of the world. That, more than anything, convinced me that I could no longer stand aside while my father leads the Fire Nation to ruin."

"So you want to overthrow him?"

"Korra," Azula said as she shifted to straddle the Avatar's waist. "I have been planning this for years. I have at least half of the Fire Nation's nobility on my side already, and I believe the other half would join me if the Avatar pledged to support my cause."

"I see." Korra's eyes narrowed. "So in exchange for supporting you against your father, you would end the war?"

"Indeed. I would, of course, have to keep some of the gains we've made - nothing too large, I assure you - but the war would end. I would become Fire Lord, and you would become the Avatar who ended the Hundred Year War."

"And you think your father will give you the throne when he realises the nobles support you over him?"

"Oh, no," Azula said dryly. "I'll have to challenge him to Agni Kai and kill him, but that will be the easy part. My dear father hasn't fought on the front lines in more than a decade, and I am the greatest fire bender and warrior my nation has ever produced."

"Not the least bit arrogant, are you?"

"It is not arrogance if it is true," Azula shot back. "The question, Korra, is whether or not you will help me. I will take the throne. Without your help, it may well involve a mountain of corpses. With your help, it will only take one."

"You know, even two years ago, if someone had asked me if I would ever help you, I'd have called them insane."

"And if someone had told me two years ago that I would seriously be contemplating making the Avatar my royal consort once I took the throne, I'd have said the same."

"…" Korra jerked up, tearing her bonds with a subtle application of air bending. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious." Azula smirked. "You look wonderful in blue, Korra, but I think you'd look just as good in red." Her smirk widened. "And I'd be yours as much as you'd be mine." Azula leaned forward until their lips were almost touching. "Tell me I wouldn't look amazing in Water Tribe blue."

Korra gulped. The thought of Azula in Water Tribe blue was… intoxicating. "Yeah." She shook herself. She could think about that later. "So you're really going to do this?"

"Why do you think I'm sailing back to the Fire Nation with you in secret?" Azula bared her teeth. "This war has gone on long enough. I will defeat my father and become Fire Lord. I will put an end to the war, but I'll need your help for what comes after."

"Ah." Korra grimaced. "That will be tricky. Even if you do end the war, the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes are still going to be pissed."

"Indeed, which is where you come in. Use some of that charm of yours to help bring about a peaceful solution."

"You think I'm charming?"

"To an extent," Azula countered. "But more than anything you keep your word. You don't make a lot of promises, but you always keep the ones you do make. More importantly, you have won the respect of people throughout the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes. Negotiating a lasting peace will be difficult with your help. Without your help, it will be impossible."

"You do realise that they'll accuse you of seducing me to win my favour."

"Maybe. I'd argue they'd be right." Azula smiled thinly. "But perhaps you could try to make it seem as though the opposite occurred." She swooned melodramatically. "Imagine it: the aloof and cruel Fire Nation princess, defeated and then seduced by the Avatar. Driven by her newfound love for the Avatar, the princess overthrows her father and promises to end the war and bring peace to the world."

"…" Korra shook her head. "I don't think there is a single person in the world who would believe that."

Azula straightened. "Of course not. But that's not the point. What we need to impress upon them is that regardless of the… intricacies of our relationship, peace is the best way forward."

"Well, you're not wrong." Korra sighed. "But you really couldn't have explained this to me before we started sailing toward the Fire Nation?"

"And spoil the surprise?" Azula laughed. "Korra, you know me better than that."

X     X     X

Author's Notes

This is obviously a massive AU. I'll get into the specifics in later snippets, but the gist of it is that Aang never ran away, the Air Nomads managed to survive after initially sustaining heavy losses, and the Hundred Year War has been extremely bloody.

By the time Azula shows up, Korra is the Avatar. They're similar in age, and Azula does spend some of her early years trying to capture/kill Korra. However, due to certain events, things change, and Azula develops a better understanding of the conflict and its likely ending.

Let me know what you think.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

You can find my original fiction on Amazon here. In fact, I’ve just released a new story, Attempted Adventuring. If you like humour, action, and adventure, be sure to check it out.

[galattea]

‘Til it Gets to Me

Ingrid Brandl Galatea; a character analysis or - the things to cross her mind as the world goes dark

Primary Pairing; Ingrid/Sylvain Words: 3,029 Ao3

I suppose "character analysis" is a bit of a loose term. I had initially intended to be much more direct about the deeper intricacies to Ingrid's personality and feelings, but it ended up becoming a lot more plot driven. I haven't written much (if anything at all) for FE3H and I haven't publicly posted a work in what is almost two years now, so forgive any formatting errors along the way. 

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Broken voices compete with the sounds of metal tearing into metal. They harmonize in a way that makes Ingrid’s spine grow rigid. She’s high above it all, hot wind nipping at her knuckles as she loops her stallion’s reins over them once more. She raises her left arm and then levels it horizontally. A cacophony of battle cries and beating pegasus wings is the response as her fleet scatters to their assigned directions before she herself leans forward and feels the weight of her mount follow her. In one practiced movement, Ingrid draws Lúin from her back and shifts her grip.

They’re nearing the ground now — Ingrid can feel her hair slick itself back against the wind as she raises her lance toward the group of archers she’s taken to targeting. She catches one through the shoulder before her pegasus has even met the ground, and is directing her full momentum towards the smaller one a few feet away when she feels the air around her spark with electricity.

Fuck.

Of course she had expected defensive measures to be put in place the first time she’d lead her fleet to pick off the empire’s ranged soldiers while those on the true battlefield dealt with their familiar swords and spears. But they’d caught her off guard by waiting.

Ingrid tugs her reins sharply to the left and meets eyes with a mage twice her size. She knows better than to try and take him out alone with two bowmen still standing behind her, and before she can fling herself into more danger than necessary she presses her heel to the base of her mount’s wing and is airborne before the crack of lightning hits where she had just been. She prays to the goddess that she didn’t just kill off the rest of her air support by overusing a strategy and watches the ground beneath her grow smaller.

She scans the battlefield as quickly as she can before deciding her next move. Deciding it best to continue her attacks behind enemy lines, Ingrid targets her next dive toward a more isolated corner of the fight.

Her heart thrums in her chest, emerald eyes locked on the dark head of hair she is heading straight towards. She can feel the determination to right her errors by pulling as much weight as she possibly can bubble up in her throat as a battle cry.

But it fizzles out in the air as the wind is knocked directly from her.

The shrill cry of her pegasus brings her eyes to its neck. Three arrows are buried there, blood staining the silver coat in which they found their mark. Ingrid is acutely aware now that she is falling backwards, the beating of her mount’s wings stilled. She knows exactly what this means for her.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Ingrid had never been ashamed of her home in Galatea. It was a noble house, after all, and it had been maintained as well as possible since her county’s golden days. That didn’t change the fact that it was fairly small, or the way that its age was ever present in the now lackluster walls and furnishings.

That was, until she had begun spending time in the homes of her friends.

She knew she was a much lower name on the list of Faerghus’ nobles, but as a child what that really meant had never quite crossed her mind. It was on her first visit with her father to Fraldarius that she realized just how quaint her lifestyle truly was.

But it was in there that she felt the most comfortable - where most of her childhood leisure was spent. It was in Fraldarius that she fell face first in love for the first time.

(She would later realize that love wasn’t the word for what she had felt for Glenn, but rather a naive childhood admiration.)

The elder Fraldarius had made a brash first impression on Ingrid when she was freshly eight. She had seen him train many times from afar by then, but never had they spoken. It wasn’t until she all but slammed face first into him as she chased Felix through the long hallways that Ingrid heard his voice for the first time.

“A knight is worth nothing with his head in his arse.”

Ingrid knew not why he spoke such a phrase to her, but something about the annoyed look on his face made her recoil back in shame.

After that Ingrid found herself enraptured by Glenn. She spent the next year lingering longer than she ever had in front of the training area in which he spent his time. He was so young and so gifted -- his body flowing effortlessly with each swing of his sword and the concentration on his face never faltering. She was awestruck. She wanted to watch him forever.

Ingrid’s designation soon changed from her “Glenn’s betrothed” to “underpaid babysitter.” With her fiancé’s training becoming more and more serious, her ability to spectate became less and less frequent. Instead, she found herself chasing the bright red hair of Sylvain Gautier through the courtyard of Dimitri’s summer home in Fhirdiad, an enraged Felix at her side. Sylvain’s laughter had rang through the well manicured trees like a bell. -- And then Ingrid is thirteen and her whole world comes crashing down. The news of the tragedy reaches her bedroom in Galatea well into the night and she finds her mouth agape and heartbeat stopped. She feels a pang she had never known could exist in anything but books. It is in the same hour that she swears her life upon becoming a knight.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The monastery fills Ingrid with dread, but her attitude changes the moment her gaze passes the stables. It is there that her passion for riding is sparked. Of course she had spent years alongside noble horses, but never before a creature so magnificent as those that were housed at Garreg Mach. Her spare time is quickly invested in offering her aid in whatever way possible. Between her studies and time caring for the pegasi, Ingrid finds herself enjoying the company of new friends in a way she had not expected. Ashe is quick to grow on her; he is soft and kind and lingers around the stables some evenings to watch her work and discuss old stories of knights. Annette and Mercedes take much more time to acquire her fondness -- she never dislikes them, only struggles to warm up to their constant begging for her to indulge them and their games of dress up. It is through them that Ingrid realizes she has a much repressed fondness for skirts, and she finds herself looking forward to their interactions more and more. Her childhood friends, however, offer a much different company. She spends many lunches conversing with Felix and Dimitri over their studies and many more evenings sparring with Felix as he aids in her swordsmanship. It is Sylvain that she finds the most troublesome. Since they were little he had always been a man after any woman’s heart, but with the introduction of freedom he had become quite the serial flirt. She knows deep down that he is doing it to rebel against the version of himself that his father projects upon him, that he harbors no true malintent towards the hearts he breaks, and it is for that reason that she continues to clean up after him despite her complaints. She does not acknowledge the strange twist she feels in her gut every time he leaves the room early to go entertain some maiden. -- Luin’s arrival to the monastery is something Ingrid does not expect. Her father was never a fan of the way his daughter had turned from a princess with her hand belonging to a fine noble into a knight with no care for romance alongside his sons, and she takes the offering of House Galatea’s relic as acknowledgment and approval of her choices. She feels honored.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

A soft knock upon her door startles Ingrid awake and she hoists herself from her bed. It’s well after midnight, she notes, lighting the oil lamp beside her bed and opening the door. On the other side she sees the back of Sylvain’s head as he turns down the hall. She clears her throat and he halts, a sheepish look on his face as he turns back to face her. There’s a cut on his upper lip, and dried blood caked in his hair. She blanches. “Where in hell-” She is already scolding as she ushers the taller boy into her room, “How? Sylvain, what in the name of Seiros are you doing here instead of an infirmary.” “If you wanted me in an infirmary so bad you wouldn’t have just brought me into your room,” he points out. It takes everything in her not to slap him. He perches on the edge of her bed as Ingrid digs furiously through the drawers of her vanity meant to store powders and makeup. Instead, she withdraws a glass bottle and a cloth. Her footsteps are silent as she pads back towards her bed and seats herself on her knees beside him. There is something about seeing Sylvain hurt that twists her stomach. She watches her hand intently as she raises the now damp piece of fabric to the side of his head, pretending not to notice the way he leans into her touch. There is no grimace or complaint as she gently rubs the alcohol over what appears to be an impact wound, presumably from another man’s armor. “You’re not seeing double, are you?” “No ma’am,” Sylvain responds, and Ingrid is once again overcome with the urge to backhand him. The cut takes a good moment to clean, with delicate fingers struggling to part bloodied hair without causing any unnecessary pain. When it is nothing more than a bright pink and angry line in his scalp, Ingrid sits back on her haunches. She folds the cloth, spending far too much time finding a clean spot before gently raising it to the bottle of alcohol again. She sets the glass back upon her bedside table before placing her hand on Sylvain’s cheek. Butterflies erupt in her stomach as their eyes meet. She can’t fight the urges -- can’t stop herself from leaning forward. He watches her, confusion written in his expression. They flicker to her lips. She closes her eyes. His lips are soft, terribly so, she notes as they meld together. Ingrid swears they stay like that for hours, lips moving softly against one another, before she realizes what she’s doing and draws back. Sylvain’s eyes are wide, but he hadn’t stopped her. He had even returned the kiss. “Ing-” “Out of my room,” she feels the harshness in her voice and the blood rushing to her cheeks but she refuses to look at him. He stalls for a moment, gaze boring holes into every inch of her skin, and then retreats. Ingrid is left in candlelit silence. Tears stream down her face as the alcohol from the cloth soaks into her clenched fist. She doesn’t meet his gaze again for a week.

--

There is some sort of silent agreement in place as Ingrid sets her books down on the table and seats herself right beside Felix. Her head falls to his shoulder and he doesn’t flinch or tense or shove her away. Instead, he rests his cheek on her forehead. A vigil is held in the cathedral, in which candles are lit and silence hangs heavy over students who never knew the fallen. To Ingrid it feels wrong and disgusting to put her grief on display in front of her peers. She assumes Felix feels much the same. There are no words for how they feel. The past four years they had spent in a wordless pact to protect one another where they couldn’t protect Glenn. Ingrid laces her fingers through his and feels warmth trickle down her face. There is no ceremony that can aid the ache she feels. So they sit in their own silence, pressed against each other as though the world depends on it.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

In all of her years spent there, Ingrid had never recalled Galatea being so suffocating. She doesn’t know how to feel. In one beat she wishes to be fighting in defense of her prince like she had always sworn herself to, but in the next she feels herself seethe at the mere idea of enabling Dimitri’s rampage. It feels like she’s fighting an uphill battle with her own ideals. But it is her father that brings her to a decision. Count Galatea had never truly enjoyed his daughter’s sudden desire to fight on the frontlines. Ingrid knew this much, and saw it evidenced in the way she found herself followed by suitors at least once a week. She tries to remind herself that it is because he cares about her. “It’s nice to have you home,” he is seated behind his desk, arms folded on the heavy oak. “It is nice to be home,” Ingrid smiles. “I’m glad to finally have my daughter off the battlefield.” Ingrid’s smile falters. She says nothing as she leaves his office. Her fingers wind through her hair and suddenly it is far too long for her taste. Without a second thought, she pulls an old pair of scissors from her desk. That night, she leaves for Garreg Mach.

--

She doesn’t miss the expression on Felix’s face as her mount trots toward the courtyard. Sylvain is poised at his side, a grin plastered upon his face. They both look so much different, although she supposes the same could be said for herself. “You’re late,” Sylvain calls. Something in Ingrid’s chest reacts to his voice. “Goddess forbid,” she laughs, swinging off her stallion as she reaches the two of them. “Nice hair,” Felix’s expression doesn’t change as he speaks, but she supposes she’ll take it as a compliment. Her old dorm is exactly as it had been left. Ingrid doesn’t let her mind linger on that for too long as she unclasps her breastplate and places the heavy armor on her old bed. Sylvain clears his throat from the doorway and she jumps. “So what made Galatea change its mind?” She shrugs at him, not meeting his eyes as she works to take off the rest of her armor. She can feel him roll his eyes. “Did you finally get sick of your father?” “Possibly.” He laughs at this, closing the door behind him and seating himself in her old desk chair. He looks a mess now that she sees him up close; the circles under his eyes are deep and his voice is hoarse. “He's still trying to send you off?” “Trying to keep me off the battlefield, more like,” Ingrid smooths out her blouse. “Not many suitors to be called upon when the majority are out here.” “I suppose,” he agrees, and she hopes she isn’t imagining the relief that flickers across his face. “And yourself?” the question leaves her mouth before she can think twice about it. “No ma’am,” he chuckles, leaning against the back of his chair. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Ingrid’s fingers search frantically for leverage in the thin linen of Sylvain’s shirt as he kisses her. It isn’t the same as it was when she had kissed him all those years ago. It’s hot and it’s fast and there’s the weight of their own lives on their shoulders that presses them closer together. The mat on the floor of the makeshift tent isn’t the most comfortable thing Ingrid has ever been kissed on, but she doesn’t object as calloused hands lay her down. The fire outside is dim now, but its light pokes through the fabric that covers them and bounces off of Sylvain’s features like artwork. His eyes are heavy and his breathing is ragged as he strains against the bandage wrapped taut around his shoulder to lean over her. In the middle of this war, Ingrid is in heaven. They fall into each other, desperate to communicate words they don’t have time for in heated touches until they’re holding each other as though they’ll never see each other again once they’ve let go. It is there that Ingrid decides it. She is in love with Sylvain. She has been, since they were teenagers. It feels like a shot to the chest as she acknowledges this -- allowing herself to admit love for someone who was not Glenn after so many years. She doesn’t say it, but Sylvain knows. There is no way he doesn’t. He doesn’t return it, though, that much she is aware of. He holds her to his chest and breathes in her hair, and Ingrid allows herself to believe that, just for that moment, he is hers. That night she falls asleep to the sound of his breathing. —

Someone is screaming her name from a distance but she doesn’t turn to investigate. Her right is crushed under the weight of her long dead pegasus and her head is swimming.

“Ingrid -” she can make out a dark head of hair approaching her, can feel arms pulling her from beneath the horse. The aching has long stopped alongside the thudding of hooves and cries of soldiers. The battle is over.

She’s slung over someone’s back and he smells so familiar.

“We did it,” he’s saying in a voice she recognizes but with a strain she doesn’t. “We won, Ing. You did it.”

She coughs, something wet dripping from her lips.

“Glenn,” her voice is hardly a whisper. The person holding her stills. “I did it, Glenn.”

“You did,” the voice breaks.

“Don’t cry,” she’s smiling but she doesn’t register it, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ing,” he replies, followed by a choked sob.

Her eyes are suddenly too heavy to bear. Her breathing stalls.

It is to the sound of Felix’s cries to a goddess that won’t answer that lull her to rest.

[nikkigrand]

There’s no easy way to say this, but I’m abandoning all of my works. Everything.

This post is going to be long, honest, triggering and deeply personal. So for those who don’t want to read through all of my bullshit, the gist is that I’m not emotionally or mentally capable of writing anymore.

TW ARE IN PLACE.

If you’ve followed me for a while, then you know that my boyfriend was killed in Afghanistan last year. Since then, my life has been a breathless decline into self destruction. I didn’t know—I still don’t know—how to recover from happily waiting for his return to painfully knowing he never will. I swear that some days I feel like he’s still out there and some day he’ll come home and this will all be just a bad dream. I want to wake up to a reality where he steps off that plane and into my arms, where I don’t keep a crumpled old t shirt that smells more of me than him under my pillow, where the shock of hearing certain songs doesn’t make me throw up. A reality where I don’t have to sit in front of his ashes every time I visit his mother and look at his singed necklace around her neck.

I wanted nothing more than to wake up. Just wake the fuck up and feel alive again because for so long I had felt this choking pain and grief and misery and then nothing.

Everything became an escape, something to fill that void in me. I tried all the healthy things. I ate, I worked out, I ran. I talked to people about how I felt and reached out, but nothing helped. I volunteered, i planted trees and flowers, I channeled my grief into kindness. I tried to take all this pain and turn it into something beautiful, and still I felt nothing. I was falling falling falling into this black pit and was reaching for anything to keep me from hitting the bottom.

So I started chasing highs. The standard shit at first. I drank so much alcohol that I’d wake up in bushes with my friends, limbs tangled in ways that left me sore and stinging for days because who the hell passes out in a Rose bush?

At first, drinking was fucking hell, because no matter how much I drank I’d always end up with my head cradled in the palms of my hands, fingers digging into my scalp as I screamed and wailed and asked why why why why when he was so close to coming home and why was life so goddamn mean??? I’d be in bar bathrooms, just curled in the corner and sobbing like a dramatic princess until my friends carried me out. This happened about a dozen times before it just stopped, because I figured I wasn’t drinking enough if I could remember everything.

So I drank more and more and more and then I realized that it wasn’t making me feel better, it wasn’t doing anything for me.

So I started smoking. Just weed, you know. Nothing too crazy at the time. But all that did was make me hyper-fixate on all of my failures and short comings. It made me hate myself so viscerally, so deeply that I wondered if this is who I truly am at my core. A mean bitch who drinks, smokes, parties. A maneater who fucks these poor kind hearted men to fill that hole her dead man left inside her and still finds herself cold and numb after because it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

I’m sure you know where this is going. But I hated myself. I’m a beautiful girl, I’m not blind, and yet I found myself to be so fucking ugly. So fucking ugly and grey and all I wanted—all I needed—was something to breathe life into me the way life itself did before.

I just wanted to feel happy and normal. Only for a little while. That need was so encompassing it would grip my insides and I’d cry from how much I wanted it, how much I had convinced myself I needed it. It was all I fucking wanted.

So the bumps came. And then the lines. And then whole baggies to myself. And it felt amazing, it was wonderful. The world was alive, things were different. I had more energy, more life in me than I had in months. Then the other type of lines came and it made me feel like I was floating away. There was no pain, no misery, no death hanging over my shoulder to remind me that the strength of your love can’t make people stay.

But soon, that too wasn’t enough. Like every other thing, I felt there was something better, something that could make me feel more. So here is where I tell you about all the pills I popped, all the different colored presses and how each one pulled me out of that hole I was falling into and deposited me above the ground —much higher than I could have ever dreamed of—and filled my grey world with beautiful gorgeous colors.

Then I can tell you about all the tabs I let dissolve on my tongue, or fully swallowed out of impatience, all of the lines of ketamine I combined with ecstasy and acid in one night. The things I saw, the way I felt—it took me far from this dismal life and was addicting. I was chasing something every weekend until it became every other day, chasing some feeling I still can’t name, and I knew that it was ruining me.

My grief and my drugs were killing me, and I knew it. With every cotton mouth, every clenched jaw, every pounding headache, I fucking knew and didn’t care. I’d look at my friends faces and I knew, I knew they loved me and would be devastated if they knew what I was doing, and I still didn’t care. What was life if it felt this empty?

My grades dropped, i turned down a contracting job I wanted for years, I spent all my money on psychedelics and stimulants, and it had gotten to a point where I’d pop a pill while sitting at home just because I didn’t want to be sober and didn’t want to think about how fucked up my life was becoming.

Then one day I was at a concert, high in the clouds with a joint settled comfortably between my lips and frizzy hair piled messily atop my head, when I saw a girl get carried out the venue by medics. She was probably a few years younger than I am, and i remember looking at her face impassively as they pushed through the crowd with her body thrown over this bear of a man’s shoulder as if in slow motion. She was pale and foaming at the mouth, with her arms dangling limply down his back, and she looked dead—she was dead. I knew in that same way you know that the sky is blue when the sun is up, I just knew.

And in that moment—those few seconds it took me to acknowledge that she had most likely overdosed and died—this intense yearning shot through me, so strong that I felt it in the crooks of my fucking elbows, like I wanted to embrace whatever the fuck it was that I desired to live inside me, and this voice cried out, “I wish that were me.”

And you know what, I didn’t even know I had spoken until the guy next to me shoved me in the shoulder and said, “no you don’t.”

And that terrified me. I remember dropping the joint, fumbling it in my shaking fingers, burning myself on the lit end, before handing it off to that same random guy and running off to get some air.

I’m not stupid and I’m not blind. I know I’m depressed, I know I’ve got issues, but I had never said something so suicidal out loud up until that point. I’ve never vocally wished for death and even as I sat there, as I looked out at the people outside the venue huddled together doing whip it’s and killing brain cells, I still wanted to be that poor dead girl on that man’s shoulders.

That was it for me. I remember calling an Uber home on the spot and taking everything I had and flushing it. Im not going to sit here and lie to you and tell you that it was easy. I had convinced myself that I needed these things to make me happy, and i don’t know if I can ever see life the same way after them. The feelings you get off these things are otherworldly, it’s so damn good, but they come at a price. You dont feel the same way you did before you took them, and you never will. You’ll never be who you were before that high, but you can almost convince yourself that it’s worth it. So it was pretty damn hard to take my neon presses, my rocks. my capsules, my bud and my tabs, and flush them down the toilet.

Almost immediately after I did it, I cried. Mostly because i had flushed hundreds of dollars down the fucking toilet, but also because I had become that girl in those cheesy college movies. You know the one, the one where the party girl gets addicted to drugs and goes on a bender and her whole life is just one big goddamn tragedy that won’t end. I hate those fucking movies and I, for the life of me, could not believe I was that girl.

I had been military, straight laced with a good head on my shoulders and a hard worker. I was smart, respected, the girl everyone wanted to bring home to mom. And now I was a hot mess crying in my bathroom because I had just flushed my addiction down the shitter.

Now I’m just home, trying to gather the pieces of myself in a way that doesn’t cause long term damage when I’ve yet to hit my 27th birthday.

I still go out with my friends. They know nothing about what I’ve done because I’ve always gone out and done things alone. This is the first time I’ve ever spilled my guts.

So where does FanFiction come into play in all this. Well, it’s simple, really, if you’ve gotten to this point and picked out all the mistakes in grammar. My brain is so fucked up that I can barely write a passable 3 page essay. I can’t remember words, much less how to string them together to form something beautiful in the way I used to. Trust me, it kills me and I’ve agonized over it for hours. I once tried to take this amazing idea I had and put it to paper but it would just not flow. Nothing made sense. Where before writing was effortless and focused, now my brain could barely concentrate on forming a sentence that didn’t sound like gibberish.

My attention span is so short that I literally have to isolate myself with no internet and my textbooks to get work done. It’s so bad that I have anxiety and panic attacks about the fact that I feel like a whole dumbass with one brain cell, where before I was proud of my intelligence and could hold decent conversation.

I’m still pretty, as if that fucking matters, but now I’ve got a stutter and can’t hold eye contact because my paranoia makes me think they’re judging me. And let me tell you, I’m so fucking pissed about that because I know it’s just my fried brain thinking these things, and there’s no one to blame but myself.

And I still feel empty and numb. How can I write about love and human emotions when I don’t feel anything? How can I write about looking at someone and loving them when the memory of love faded like my lover’s ashes in the wind? I just can’t.

I know love as it whispers against my skin with each interaction between me, friends, even other men, and yet I look at them and feel absolutely nothing.

So Yeah, I can’t write my stories if I can’t get my brain or my heart to work.

I’m really sorry to all my loyal readers. I really am. I wish I had been stronger. Thank you for all of your support throughout the years.

Don’t do drugs.

[xannarobertsx]

War of Hearts: Lovely

Okay, so this is the first chapter for my story for War of Hearts. Let me know what you think. (And by that, really let me know what you think -- I’d appreciate it a lot.) 

War of Hearts Chapter One: Lovely

"This is Prince Theodore, Princess Rosella, and Theodore, this is Princess Rosella Hannele Astra of the Kingdom of Asteria." Queen Morrigan was formally introducing them. Most of Rosella's face was covered by hair. She was a tad embarrassed to be introduced to the Prince of such a prestigious Kingdom in her clad dress she had worn. She assumed he probably thought she was nothing more than a mere beggar one would pick up off the streets.

"I already know who she is. Our families have been acquainted for quite some time now, I don't need a formal introduction." The way he spoke to his mother, made Rose peer out from behind her hair to see his stern brown eyes glaring to the Queen.

"Well the kingdom will need a formal introduction and we need you to be there, by her side, so we can introduce her as your wife." His mother spoke as her eyes narrowed on Theodore.

"I don't want to have a formal announcement of our marriage. It's purely political, I'm tired of everyone fawning all over her. It's not like I'll ever love her or choose her to be my mate. Now if you excuse me, I have a day planned with Luciana." His words cut deep as he walked away, and Prince Theodore was right and Rosella knew that. The young Princess was sentenced here for the savior of her own country, not his. She knew she was probably just a hindrance to him.

"Theodore!" The Queen yelled, sighing as she had to leave the Princesses side to chase after her son.

Rose's hands fell to her sides as she ambled her way over to the balcony, pondering on how her life would be different if her Kingdom wasn't poor. Would she be able to live more freely and not in fear of war? Her fingers trailed along the golden railing that ornate designs carved into it. The entire thing must have cost a fortune. Rosella's fingertips sit on the railing as her long brown hair falls out of her face, exposing her wide doed bright blue colored eyes and as she's minding her own business. A pair of golden brown eyes gazing up to her. It was a young male, he looked similar to Prince Theodore, but younger. Was he his younger brother? He was smiling up to her and waving. Rose couldn't help but wonder.

"My mother said you're the new Princess, she also said to forgive her. She had to go deal with my brother. I'll be showing you to your chambers." He yelled up to her, surely all the servants far and wide could hear what he just yelled to the Princess.

Not even seconds later, the boy that had hardly even introduced himself to Rose had managed to run all the way up within minutes and reach to where she was currently standing. He didn't even seem out of breath. "I'm Prince Matthias, it's a pleasure to meet you, your Highness." He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. Rose's fingers were pale and dainty in his masculine hands that honestly were kind of rough.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, please, don't call me your Highness. Call me Rose." She smiled warmly to Prince Matthias as he raised his head. His shaggy platinum blonde hair was probably the only difference between him and Prince Theodore. He was spitting images of his brother, from his chiseled facial structure to his almond shaped eyes and even his lips.

Matthias smiled back to Rose. "Well then, Rose. Follow me." He extended an arm for Rose to link with as he escorted her to what would be her chambers. After the event of the evening she would be wed to Prince Theodore and they would share this room.

The room was located in the far back of the castle on the second floor, it was luxuriously decorated in elaborate ways as if to scream Theo's family's wealth. Honestly it made Rose rather uncomfortable with the golden embroidery that every item nearly had attributed onto it. From his large bed that had pure silken red sheets, to the wooden frame of the bed that reached to the ceiling lined with gold. Rose couldn't help but wonder how one family must have so much. The silk on Rose's fingertips felt lovely, she wondered how'd it'd feel having such devine things wrapping around her body. She was never granted the privilege of such nice things back home. The rest of the room was decorated to match the bed, and Theodore even had a bookshelf and a desk in a corner in the room and a balcony with what looked to be a nice view of the woods and the far away mountains. She assumed the view would be nice at nightfall, when the stars would come out and twinkle as if just for her.

Being brought out of her reverie as Theodore enters the room with the Queen. "No. She's not staying here in my chambers. Get her, her own chambers." Theo demanded as soon as he saw Rose.

"She will stay in this room tonight, Theodore and that's final. You two will consummate your marriage as husband and wife, after the ceremony like everyone else." Queen Morrigan instructed. "I will have a wise woman check Rose in the morning and if she's still intact, you'll pay."

His mother warned him, which made Theodore groan and rolled his eyes as his gaze lingered over Rosella. "If I'm to wed something that resembles a beast, can we at least make her decent?" He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Yes, we cannot do the ceremony with her looking the part of a servant." Queen Morrigan headed out of the room, as well as Prince Matthias without another word.

Theodore's eyes moved off of Rosella and over to his wardrobe. He really didn't want to go through with this marriage, and he was making it apparent and evident on his face. Though, the Prince did care little on how anyone might think of him. "Can you please escort yourself out?" His warm brown eyes suddenly turned ice cold as they slanted as they bore into Rosella.

The petite brunette nodded, bringing herself to her feet, as she saw herself out. She was met by Queen Morrigan who was lingering outside of Theodore's chambers. Queen Morrigan caught sight of Rose and quickly whisked her away to where she would be staying until she was wed with Theodore, where she was met with who Morrigan said would be her Chambermaid, who's name was Estelle. The room Rose had found herself in was decorated the same luxuriously that Theo's room was decorated in, except this had different touches and designs of flowers that trailed all over the carpets and the burgundy curtains. Much like Theodore's room, everything was lined with gold. From the bed frame once more, to the wardrobe and even the designs on the chairs that sat in a dimly lit corner of the room.

After Queen Morrigan introduced Estelle to Rose, she fled the room, leaving Rosella in the capable hands of Estelle. Once Estelle was behind Rose, she pulled her hair back and tied it with a ribbon. Her long brown hair was wavy and at a major disarray. She would have to have Rose take a bath before her ceremony, if there was even time for that. The chambermaid led Rose to the bath which was attached to the bedchamber. She fetched some hot water while Rosella sat with another chambermaid that brushed out the girl's tangled hair. Estelle knew she had her work cut out for her with how grimy Rose looked. It looked as if she came from cinders, her face covered with dirt and her clothing looked like that of a servant. Part of Estelle wondered how this girl could possibly be a Princess.

Theodore sat in his bedchambers, lounging back on his bed. The silkiness of his sheets had the prince feel relaxed. He was still not ready for his marriage, let alone to consummate the marriage for his parents sake. He thought back to the way Rosella looked in her tattered dress, shaking her unattractive appearance from his eyes. Why did he have such a pull towards her? She was disgusting to him. A knock at his chamber door disrupted his thoughts, with a groan he got up and answered the door. It was Luciana. His arms wrapped around her and hers around him as she entered his room, he closed the door behind her.

"I don't want you to marry her." Her voice was sad as she looked up to him, her thin hazel eyes striking through him.

"I know, my love." He kissed her forehead, holding her curvaceous body to his. "I don't have a choice if I want to be King someday."

Luciana pouted, her raven black hair falling to her back as she kept her eyes focused on Theodore. "You could tell your parents that you'll marry me, make me your Queen, not some washed up hideous princess who's not even your mate."

Theodore's hand moved from Luciana's waist and to rub the back of her hair as he held her body to his and groaned. "After they make me consummate the marriage I'm not even going to give her the time of day. You have nothing to worry about."

Luciana twitched her nose, hearing the words of him saying he would bed the troll. "You're not serious, tell me they're not going to make you actually take her to bed!"

Theo sighed and looked away, nodding. "I don't have a choice in that matter, it's a tradition for us werewolves. We marry and then must bed our mate for children." He moved his hand to his ash blonde hair and ran his fingers through the rather short length of it.

"...Wait, so you're supposed to be taking her to bed to get her pregnant? For what? An heir?!?" Luciana seemed completely baffled by these words Theodore had just uttered out.

"Sadly yes, but I'll see a witch before our union to ensure that she doesn't end up with my child. You'll have no worries, Luciana." He kissed his lovers forehead, with his thick soft pink lips.

"She's disgusting." Luciana kept herself nuzzled up against the Prince, enjoying the feel of being in her lovers arms. "...I actually know a witch, though. My family uses her for cures for their ailments, she's quite adept at it. I could take you to her, if you'd like. Her shop is located within Peiria, we'd be back before your ceremony." Luci tried to coerce Theodore, though he wasn't exactly objecting to it.

Nodding Theodore stood up, with Luciana and taking her hand in his. "Well, it looks like we ought to get going."

Luciana giggled, enjoying the warmth of his hand in hers.

***********************************************************************************************

Queen Morrigan sat idly besides the King at the head of their table. His demeanor was strong, sitting straight up with the best posture one could see. His brown eyes peered over the table as servants ushered meals in and out. His son, Prince Matthias, sat beside the Queen already dressed in his formal clothes for his brother's wedding ceremony. Matthias was the practical one out of his family, always was and always would be. While his mother was more political, proper and firm, his father being a slight drunkard but ruling with an iron thumb, his little sister Princess Anneliese being spoiled and most of all his older brother Theodore being a bit of a rebel despite him being crown prince and the one that would inherit the entire Kingdom. Prince Matthias knew that they were all only pawns, to be shipped off and wed to neighboring Kingdom's for alliances. Much like what Princess Rosella was for her family, a pawn for diplomatic purposes. Princess Anneliese was already wed off, when she turned 16 years of age, she was wed off to Prince Charles of Kingdom Tauriel for money of all things. Matthias knew he wouldn't be far away from his father doing the same to him, he just had quite a bit of luck that there were more males having been born into royalty of their neighboring kingdom's than females around his age.

The large solid wood table sat before them all, carved with little intricate designs along its edges. A red table runner danced along the table, lingering to where the King sat at the head of the table. They were all waiting for Prince Theodore and Princess Rosella to come and join them. Beneath the King and Queen's table, stood their priest and beyond that was the dance floor of the ballroom and around that, sat an array of others with Nobles filling them out and taking their spots to witness the ceremony. The golden entryway to the formal ballroom was decorated with a variety of flowers that were lavender and red and white roses with baby's breath and different types of greenery. The sounds of people chit-chatting filled the room, until the room fell silent when Prince Theodore entered.

All eyes in the room fell over the gorgeous Prince. His chiseled features and creamy dark brown eyes scanned the room. Making many ladies' hearts skip a beat with just a glance from him. He was on the search to see where Luciana was, and his eyes locked with hers as soon as he found her. She was sitting at the closest table towards his family. His hair was cut short, at least shorter and more kempt than his brother's hair and not to mention was more of a dirty blonde, with natural brown low-lights than a platinum blonde. Theodore was nicely dressed in a pair of black trousers adorning a leather belt tied to his waist. A silk white tunic was tucked into his trousers and a black sleeveless vest was covering the top of it. Theodore ambled his way to where the priest was and stood, folding his arms over his chest. He was ready to get this over with.

Just as Theodore turned to look at the entryway, in comes Princess Rosella. Her hair was now styled and out of her face in a half up braid lingering down her back. Catching a glance of her, Theodore nearly had to catch his breath. She was utterly gorgeous in an innocent way. Something within him screamed, "Mate." He wondered if it was his wolf? He tried to quiet him, pushing the thoughts away. He was mated to Luciana, and she would forever reign in his heart... But there was just something about Rose, he couldn't quite pin-point. It was like his wolf was screaming she was his mate, he couldn't have two mates, could he? Just as he thought of her, their eyes locked onto each other, his wolf screamed in his head. Her soft blue eyes fell to the floor once they met his, her teeth chewing on her nether lip. Theo couldn't peel his eyes away from her, her beauty. She wore a floor-length white gown that was made of silk and danced across her body. Looking quite like a doll. He could see every single curve of her body and wanted to run his fingers along her legs, up to her hips. Was that so bad?

Gritting his teeth, as Rosella waltzed her way forward, ever so slowly and elegantly. As she reached Theodore, she looked back up to him and their eyes met. Her breathing grew shallow and she tried to catch her breath as she could feel her heart simultaneously flutter in her chest. She didn't quite understand this feeling. Was this love? She just wanted to know. Taking her eyes off of Theodore she looked to the priest and prepared to pledge herself to Theodore on behalf of her country. Theodore also turned to the priest, keeping his hands folded over each other as the priest began their ceremony.

As soon as they exchanged their "vows" and they were deemed to be married by the church, it wasn't required for the two to exchange a kiss but at the end of the night complete the faux mating ritual that their family had. Theodore stood beside Rosella, and they were both complemented and congratulated by their guests as they ushered towards them. Although Rose could barely speak with anyone, seeing as she was quite nervous.

"Theodore, Lord Bastian wishes to speak with you." The Queen whisked her son away to go speak with a family friend, making him leave Rosella's side for the first time that evening.

The Princess found herself lost in this Castle and quickly averted her gaze from the ballroom. She looked over towards the balcony that was towards the back as people lingered around drinking and enjoying themselves. She was the only one truly by herself, and Rose knew that. With a sigh, and slight scenery overload, she made her way from the crowd of people trying to talk to her and went outside to the balcony. Which was beautiful, the stars above glistened and part of her wondered if there was truly a place for her out in this cold world. Her arms laid over the stone of the balcony, so she could lean over it and admire the sky easier.

"Fancy seeing you here." The voice was new to Rose, and she turned her head to catch a glimpse of the raven haired beaut. Luciana, who in return shot a smile to the brunette. "I'm Luciana, Theodore's mate, I'm sure you heard of me."

Rose nodded, and then her eyes moved from the girl and back to the sky. "...Yeah, I heard of you. Not much though. Don't worry, I don't expect to take him from you." The Princess couldn't help but try to reassure her.

"I don't think you could. You see, our bond is pretty tight, we're true soulmates. You're just his wife, which won't last for long." Luciana leaned, with her back from the balcony's edge and her long black hair lingering along it. She wore a silk red dress that hugged her curves and left little to imagination. If Rose had to pick a word to associate with her, it would be seductress.

"I'm only here for my country, I don't want to get in a way with whatever you two have going on. I don't plan to." Rose bit her lower lip, before turning back to Luciana.

"Good." Luciana chirped, with a giggle. "It would really suck for you if you did, because when the King dies, Theo will be crowned King and we can abolish your marriage to him. If you don't stay out of my way, I'll make it hard for your country and yourself."

"Y-you can't--" Just as the words uttered out of Rosella's mouth, Theodore ushered over and wrapped his arms around Luciana in front of her. Right in front of her, he planted a kiss on Luciana's lips and Rose felt a twinge of pain. What was this?

[nova-shadowtail]

Burn The Letters Like You Burned My Heart

Wow! Two long stories in one night! You’re on a roll Jay! I know. I know. I probably shouldn’t post 2 in a row but I CAN’T JUST IGNORE THE INSPIRATION.

This one is based off a song. Most of my fics come from song inspiration so...

This one is based off of this song: https://youtu.be/gYqaUybOUqI

A lot of you probably know that song. Again, just like last time, I changed some of the lyrics and some of this story might be ooc but idc.

I hope you enjoy :)

He told you he went on vacation to take photos before the big end of the year party. He told you he would only be gone a few weeks. He told you to trust him. And you did.

5 months. He had been gone for 5 months before you finally started to doubt he was on vacation. You glanced at Lucy playing in the backyard and back at the letter in your hand. Something was wrong.

In yesterday’s letter, he told you he was in London taking pictures of the monuments. Today he said he was already in France. It didn’t add up. He couldn’t have gotten there that fast. And he never switches places that quickly.

You tried to convince yourself that he was just taking a lot of pictures and finding new ideas. That’s why he’s taking so long. But no matter how many times you told yourself everything was fine, the uneasy feeling never left.

You finally gave in and asked Saeyoung to check on him when your daughter ran up to you and asked when Daddy would be home.

She had come up to you after chasing butterflied in the backyard and looked at you with teary eyes.

“What’s wrong princess?” You asked her, “Are you hurt?”

She shook  her head as a tear fell down her face, “I miss Daddy. When is he coming home? Is he okay?”

Your heart broke. V had been gone for so kong that even Lucy was starting to realize something was off.

You lifted her up onto your lap and hugged her, “I miss him too. I don’t know when he’s coming back, baby. I’m sorry.”

That night, after you put Lucy to bed, you called Saeyoung and asked him to locate V. He assured you that V was probably just really busy and promised he’d find him.

You thanked him and went to bed. You clutched one of his letters to your chest and cried yourself to sleep.

The next morning you woke up to texts from Saeyoung.

Saeyoung: I’m so sorry MC

Saeyoung: I wish this was fake

Saeyoung: I wish this wasn’t him but….it is

Saeyoung sent a video

You opened it and saw it was a security feed. You watched as Rika came into view, sitting at a table with a book and looking around like she was waiting for something. Or someone.

You watched as V came into view and sat down next to Rika, putting his arm around her and kidding her forehead. Tears ran down your face as you watched them talk. And laugh. And flirt.

You thanked Saeyoung for finding him and opened up Vs contact. You had to get him home right now.

MC: V! Lucy is sick and she’s been coughing up blood and idk what to do. Please come home. I’m scared something’s really wrong.

V: Take her to the hospital. I’m really busy.

MC: Please V. She’s been asking for you. I know you’ve been super busy taking pictures but please. Do it for Lucy. Come home for her. We need you.

V: Alright. I’ll be home tonight.

You smiled sadly and went to go wake Lucy up for school.

You put Lucy to bed early that night, promising you’d do something fun in the morning, and grabbed all of Vs letters to bring to the living room.

You quietly sat down in front of the fire and lit it, watching as the flame danced. You picked up the first letter and held it above the fire, watching it burn slowly. You did that to the next letter. And the next. And the next. Until you heard the door open and close.

You didn’t even have to look. You knew it was V.

“I saved every letter you wrote me,” You explained, putting another letter in the fire, “From the moment I saw you I knew you were mine. You said you were mine.”

You looked at him and at that moment he knew you knew he was seeing Rika behind your back. You stood up and smiled sadly at him.

“I thought you were mine.”

Tears pooled in his eyes and he quietly set his suitcase down. You threw your phone at him and he caught it. Looking at it, he saw the security feed of him talking to Rika. His arm around her. He looked at you and opened his mouth but you snatched the phone away and spoke before he could.

“Do you know what Saeyoung said when we found out what you’ve done?” You asked.

He looked at you with fear and worry and sorrow in his beautiful mint eyes.

“He said… “You’ve married an Icarus. He’s flown too close to the sun.”” You picked up another letter and dropped it into the fire.

Tears fell down Vs face as he watched you slowly burn the letters. He looked at the coffee table and saw the torn pictures of the two of you and more tears fell down his face.

He tried to walk towards you. To explain. To hug you. To comfort you. But you held up a hand and stopped him.

“Don’t take another step in my direction. I can’t be trusted around you,” You crossed your arms over your chest and turned away from him, “Don’t think you can talk your way into my arms.”

He tried to say something, but no words came as he watched you shove more letters into the fire. Along with some torn pictures of the two of you.

“I’m burning the letters you wrote me,” You gestured to him, “You can stand over there if you want. I don’t know who you are. I have so much to learn.”

You grabbed a letter and read a paragraph of it before ripping it in half and throwing it into the fire, “I’m rereading your letters and watching them burn.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and the anger threatening to spill over, “You told them the things that she did you to. You told the whole world how you forgave her and by clearing her name you have ruined our lives.”

You walked over to him and he took a small step back at the sheer anger radiating off of you. You put your hands on his shoulders and shoved him against the wall, sticking your finger in his face.

“Heaven forbid someone whisper “he’s part of some scheme.” Your enemy whispers so you have to scream!” You lowered your finger and stepped away from him.

“I know about whispers,” You said, turning away from him again, “I see how you look at that woman.”

He reached out his hand and grabbed your shoulder, trying to turn you around. But before he could you whipped around and grabbed his wrist. Tighter than he thought you could.

“Don’t.” You growled, backing away, “I’m not naive. I have seen her around you.”

He brought his hand away from you like he’d been burned and cradled it against his chest as he watched you sob.

“Don’t think I don’t see how you fall for her charms.” Your words were bitter and cold.

V took a deep breath and tried to walk forward and say something but you turned away from him and walked back towards the fire, which was now bigger than originally and full of ashes.

“I’m erasing myself from the narrative,” you said, grabbing your phone and throwing it to him yet again, “Let the entire RFA know how MC reacted when you broke her heart.”

He looked at the screen and saw the chatroom exploding with angry texts screaming at V for cheating on you. They were all pissed, even Seven and Jumin.

“And when the time comes...explain to Lucy the pain and embarrassment you put her mother through,” Your words weren’t cold anymore. But they were hot and fiery like the very thing destroying his letters. He flinched when you mentioned Lucy and you smirked in satisfaction.

“She is your legacy,” You spat, “We are your legacy.”

You took your phone back and brushed passed him, walking down the hall towards your room.

“If you thought you were mine…” You trailed off.

He rushed after you, trying to grab you before you locked yourself away. He wanted to explain, to fix what he had broken. He didn’t want you to leave like this. He was about to wrap his arms around you when you spun and gripped his wrists again. This time it hurt. Almost as bad as the pain in his heart.

“Don’t,” You whispered, “It’s over.”

And then you were gone. You rushed into the master bedroom and locked the door behind you. You jumped onto the bed and cried your eyes out.

V stood where you left him. Wrists red and heart aching. He slowly walked towards the bedroom door and placed his hand against it. He tried to apologize, to say something, but he couldn’t.

He placed his forehead against the wood and said, “I love you.”

The only thing he could say. And he didn’t even think you heard it, but you did, and it broke your heart even more. You knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you. You knew he loved you. But this had to be done.

He sighed when he didn’t get a response and walked into Lucy’s room. Tears pooled in his eyes as he looked at his daughter. He quietly walked to her bedside and kissed her forehead.

“I love you, princess.” He said softly.

He left the room, shutting the door behind him. He walked back to the living room and saw the rest of the letters and pictures on the coffee table. He carefully picked them up and neatly stacked them before turning towards the door. He took one last look around the house before grabbing his suitcase and leaving.

+

1 week later Saeyoung was standing outside your front door, demanding ou answer him. You hadn’t been on the messenger since the night V came home and after 2 days you had sent Lucy to go stay with Saeyoung. Everyone was worried about you but Saeyoung was the only one who would actually go talk to you.

So here he was. He’d asked Saeran and Zen to watch after Lucy for a bit while he came to talk to you. He wiped away his tears before carefully knocking on the door.

“MC, please, I know you’re in there,” He said, loud enough for you to hear.

You heard the crack in his voice and stood up from the couch, walking to the front door. Instead of opening it, you just sat down on the floor and placed your back against it.

“Everyone’s asking where you’ve been,” He said, tears falling down his face.

“Jumin said to have patience, and I’m trying to, I’m right out here for you, just let me in.” He placed his hand on the doorknob and tried to open it, but it was still locked.

“I know you’re hurt because of what V did, but please let us help you. It’s going to be okay.”

You sighed and stood up, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders more as you unlocked the door.

Saeyoung heard the soft click of the lock and immediately opened the door. He came face to face with you, in a long nightgown and a blanket around your shoulders. You looked like you had been crying for days and you’re hair was all tangled and greasy.

“MC…” Saeyoung whispered and brought you into his arms.

You hugged him tightly and, for the 100th time in the past week, started sobbing. Saeyoung used one arm to shut the door before picking you up and walking to the couch.

He sat you in his lap and hugged you tightly. The letters and pictures were still on the table. Some pictures were taped together and some of the letters were a little burned as if you changed your mind.

“I miss him,” You cried into Saeyoungs chest.

“I know,” He whispered, he kissed the top of your head and rested his cheek there, “Has he tried to contact you?”

You nodded, “He’s spammed me with texts and calls. I’m too scared to answer.”

Saeyoung made a noise and asked you where your phone was. You told him and he grabbed it quickly before coming back and holding you again.

“We’ll look together okay?” He smiled slightly at you and you nodded, taking the phone from him.

You took a deep breath and opened the messages.

V: Love, I’m sorry.

V: I promise it wasn’t what it looked like.

V: I would never cheat on you.

V: The doctors told me she was struggling a lot and I thought that if she saw me it would help her.

V: Please believe me.

V: I love you, MC

V: I always have. You’re my one and only. My one true love.

V: I regret ever seeing her. I regret lying to you and Lucy. I regret not being back when I promised.

V: I miss you, MC.

V: Please answer

V: Yoosung said you haven’t been on the messenger in a few days. Are you okay?

V: What am I saying, of course you’re not…

V: Are you alive at least? And safe?

V: Please answer me

V: At least see these texts

V: Please

You took a deep breath and tried to stop the tears from falling again. He was so worried about you. And, even though you shouldn’t after what he did, you believed him when he said he would never cheat. That he was just trying to help. You knew he was a good person who wanted to help people. You understood.

“Well?” Saeyoung asked.

Your only answer was a text sent to V.

MC: V… I’m sorry I worried you. I’m alive. And safe.

V answered instantly.

V: Thank god. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t….

MC: Sorry for worrying you

V: It’s alright. Is Lucy okay?

You bit your lip and looked at Saeyoung.

“Lucy is fine. I promise I’ve been taking good care of her. She’s been asking for you but I told her you’re just taking a little trip.”

“Thank you Saeyoung,” You whispered.

MC: She’s staying with Saeyoung right now but he said she’s fine.

Saeyoung stopped you before you hit send, “Should you tell him that she’s with me?”

You sighed, “It’s fine.”

You hit send.

V: Why’s she with Saeyoung? Are you okay? Did something happen?

MC: I didn’t want her to see me like this.

V: Oh...I’m sorry. I’m glad she’s alright.

MC: She’s fine…

V: I’m so sorry for everything

MC: I know. I accept your apology.

V: Really?

MC: Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I know you’d never cheat on me. I should’ve known there was more to the story.

V: It’s not your fault. I should’ve been honest with you about what I was doing

V: So...are we okay now?

MC: Yes…

V: Good

MC: Do you wanna come over?

V: Of course. I’ll be there in an hour.

You looked at Saeyoung and he smiled at you. You smiled back and hugged him, “Thank you.”

He hugged you tightly, “Anytime, MC.”

Saeyoung left a few minutes later. He told you to shower and text after you and V talked and he would bring Lucy back. You thanked him again before going to shower.

You dried your hair and tried to make it look like you’ve been fine. You were in the middle of figuring out how to hide the bags under your eyes when there was a knock at the door.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. V was there, looking the same as always. He smiled at you and you smiled back. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his neck. He hugged you back, doing the same.

“I’m so sorry,” He said, voice thick with tears.

“I’m sorry too,” You cried into his chest.

Let’s just say things were perfectly fine after that. Lucy was happy to see her dad again and V swore to never lie to you about anything ever again. You logged back onto the RFA that dad and told everyone you and V made up, and they were super supportive. After V explained everything everyone was super happy and things went back to normal.

Sorry if the ending seemed sloppy. My friend wanted a happy end and I wanted to finish it quickly cause I wanna go to bed

PS: Read the tags lolol

[sweetcatmintea]

A Villain’s Code

Yay! Flash fiction Friday is here again ^u^ Apparently I’m in a kick for superheroes so have a villain monologuing :3c I hope you enjoy it ^u^ Feedback is always appreciated  💜

Flash fiction Friday is run by the lovely folks at @flashfictionfridayofficial

Prompt: Forbidden Knowledge Words: 1210 (so close :v)

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A crack like snapping a chicken wing in two. Blood and stars gush into the air. He’s grinning, waving farewell as her vision blurs. It’s only a moment of black before pain pulses across her face to the beat of her accelerating heartbeat, urging her eyes open again. Dazed as she was, change is immediately obvious. Still high above the bustling city, howling wind all but drowning out the traffic and music below while trying to claw them off the skyscraper, she is no longer hunting her adversary. She has been caught. He towers over her in every sense other than physical, crouching with satisfaction sparking his green eyes. Copper leaks through her teeth like a mouthful of old coins. Her stomach lurches as she turns her head, world momentarily spinning so she can spit a wad of blood out.

“You pistol whipped me? F*ck.” Her nose crackles with each word. “You broke my nose.”

He prods at her face, blood dusted fingers retreating before she could bite down. She regrets the action immediately, pain shooting through her skull. Curses are hissed under breath.

“Don’t be such a baby, Hero. I reset it so it won’t get all crooked and weird.”

His shadow leans over his shoulder and gives a thumbs up, piping in with “Think of it as a free nose job!”

“I got a free concussion.” She twists her hands as subtly as she can, trying to pry them from the shackles binding her in place. There’s barely enough room to move between her spine and the, maintenance box? she’s tethered to.

The man rolls his eyes. “You’ll heal. You’re already looking sprightlier.”

Her glare sends the shadow stumbling back, hiding behind the villain, but the man just laughs. They both know the cuffs are cancelling her powers. He was just messing with her, and when she gets out of this, she’ll repay in full.

“Oops! Forgot about the Cancellers. Guess you’ll have to sit tight and heal the normal way.” He shrugs animatedly.

“So what now? You shoot me and go on your merry way? Give yourself a gold star for killing a hero?” Her heart raced but she had to ignore it. Keep him talking. She’s not ready to die. Not here. Not by his hand. He still had to pay for his crimes. Her fingers squirmed, trying to pull through the metal. Thick fabric made the task near impossible. Her hands were heating up, clammy, cramping, and completely trapped. What the hell had he done? Her gaze flitters to his outfit, another change catching her eye. Her skin crawls with the insinuation. Where were his socks? He doesn’t give her a chance to be disgusted, redirecting her focus with a poke to the forehead, just above the mask.

“Use your head, Hero. Why would I kill you now? It would have been easier to slap those little bracelets on you while you were out of it and just chuck you over the edge.” He chuckles. “Even with your abilities, I doubt you’d survive the fall.”

“Maybe you’re just a sick freak who gets of on torture? Sounds apt to me.”

He presses a hand to his heart, feigning sadness. “You wound me Hero! To think so lowly of your most treasured enemy?! Perish the thought!”

More blood spat to the concrete. Her head keens, body unused to the prolonged agony. “You kill people all the time. Don’t pretend you have morals.”

“Necessary casualties. Believe me, I wouldn’t waste my time parading around for someone I wanted dead. They’d be dead.

Necessary casualties?” He was lucky she was bound. Rage rolls off her in hot waves. “Say that again and I’ll kill you.”

“Perfect Segway, Princess!” The shadow pops back up, reads the room, and immediately hides again.

“Exactly what I wanted to talk to you about!” Ignoring the animosity oozing from the trapped hero, the villain plops down, sitting legs crossed in front of her. “I’m not going to kill you.”

She scoffs.

“Not today. Not tomorrow. Never. Not purposefully anyway. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. Scheming, looking at the big picture, it’s kind of my thing. Point being, there will always be another hero. I could kill out and someone else will always be there to take your place. Just like you did for the last one. You could kill me, and another villain will rise from my ashes. Over and over ad nauseum. I’ve killed hero after hero after hero. I’ve killed villains over and over. No matter the action, it always ends up the same way. A hero and a villain. The books need to be balanced. What’s the point in killing you?”

The wind whips his black hair around his face. There’s an earnestness there. Search as she might, she can’t find a hidden agender or some secret wickedness in his expression. It makes her stomach churn and she’s not sure why. Maybe how human he looks.

“Y’know? He laughs, carefree, almost like a schoolboy. “I think we could have been friends once. If you weren’t so morally anal, that is. Don’t bother with the ‘I’d never be your friend!’ spiel. I know. Regardless of your emotions towards me, Hero, I do like you. I’m not going to kill you. I’ll fight you, I’ll knock you flat on you’re a** whenever you swoop in to “save the day” but I will not be the cause of your death.”

“Why are you telling me this?? It doesn’t change anything.”

“A villain has to monologue. You know that. Hmm, but think of it as imparting some forbidden knowledge. A taste of the apple, if you will. If I won’t kill you, you can’t kill me. This is a waltz that lasts forever, Hero.”

“If it stops you, it’s justified.” Taking a life was not a crossroads she had yet to come to. She wasn’t sure she could, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Is it? You’d kill a man in cold blood? I thought you were the were the good guy.”

“It’s different if you’re harming civilians.”

“Can you really justify it though? Using deadly force on someone who you know would never hurt you that badly? I’m many things, a liar isn’t one of them. Would you tell yourself it’s self-defence as you pull the trigger I refuse to touch?”

Sirens scream below, gathering at the hero’s silence.

“Well, my dear Hero, it looks like the curtain is closing. Despite our disagreeances, I truly hope that in that pinnacle moment when you have the crosshairs on me and finger on the trigger, you see what I see and join me. There’s no guarantee the next villain won’t be worse than me. For now, I will take my leave for the night. That whole hurrah with the bank was just to arrange this little heart to heart of ours. I will be keeping the notes though. Adieu~”

“I’m not done! Come back and face me!!”

“No thank you.”

“If it means peace, I will kill you!”

His laugh echoes across the roof.

“Then it will be a delightful show, the hero out for blood chasing the villain who refuses to kill. I wonder who the spectators would root for?”

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Tag List

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer