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imfoive · 3 days ago

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Crystal Bird - Chapter 9

Crown Prince! Chan x Princess (fem.) Genre: Royal au! Angst, Romance, Historical, hidden identity, slow-burn Warnings: mentions of war, assassination, somewhat proofread WC: 5.3k A/N: Oh nooooo,my angst, it fell :( Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The Crown Prince is saved by the Princess of a rival kingdom, and he swears his second life to his savior. A forbidden friendship no one knew of, grows deeper with every secret meeting. As the two are kept apart, memories of their sunset playdates by the serene river, begin blossoming into something beautiful. Cheeks blushed, stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of each other. Years of yearning and imagining had only made them crave a sweeter reunion. And finally meeting at a Royal banquet, he could only stare at the now grown Princess, taken by her beauty, while she only watches as he gives his heart to the wrong princess.

Missed a chapter? - Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

CHAPTER 9 ───────────────────

The last time the Elysium Princess was supposed to meet her childhood friend, the day he had promised to join her in the Grand Forest all those years ago, had also been filled with thunderous rain.

As the young version of herself waited for him, the young boy from Nightshade, who ultimately failed to show up, Y/N had felt a surge of sadness wash over her.

An ache in her chest.

Yet here she was now. Amidst the downpour, feeling that same ache. That same surge of sadness coursing through her once again.

This time, it clenched her heart, tightening with every beat, leaving her mind spinning.

The Nightshade Prince’s lips moved against hers, his kiss urgent, desperate, deep. His fingers cradled her jaw, pulling her closer, as if he needed her to be part of him.

She could have let herself drown in it, let herself fall deeper into the press of his lips over hers, lose herself in his arms, his mouth. But then she felt the cold, pointed jewel pressing against her palm, the one she’d grasped unknowingly in her frantic motions. Squeezing it tightly in her grip.

The crystal bird, once light as air in her hands, now felt like a weight. The sharp edges poking deep into her flesh. A prick that was enough to suddenly ground her. Reminding her of who she was.

Her heart raced for an entirely new reason, as reality crashed back in.

With a sharp inhale, her eyes snapped open. Her form recoiled from him instantly, stepping back and stumbling to steady herself against the hedges. Her breath came in short gasps as she stared at Chris with wide, shocked eyes.

Chris, equally stunned by the abrupt retreat, by the untangling of their embrace, stood frozen. His gaze met hers, wide-eyed, as he realized, with growing disbelief, that this was not a dream.

That he had in fact, kissed her.

Pulled her close. Tasted her lips like he had imagined over and over again.

“Pr-princess…” He whispered, his voice trailing off.

But silence fell between them, his mind suddenly clouded by a thousand conflicting thoughts.

Y/N’s eyes welled with tears again, her gaze dropping to the crystal pendant that peeked from beneath his clothing. The azure hue of the bird gleamed brightly even in the dim light of the dreary night.

Such a beautiful thing that brought her nothing but tears.

Chris noticed, his eyes following the direction of her gaze until they settled on the precious thing.

And suddenly his mind went blank.

Another jolt up thunder roared through the sky, making her slightly flinch, the rain, her emotions, making her tremble.

“Sienna…” Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it rang louder than the crack of thunder surrounding them.

It was as if she had read his mind. As if she could see the swirling of his conflicted emotions written in his rigid form.

That upon seeing this bird he had to remind himself once again, that he loved another.

He should love another.

Sienna, his princess.

His heart hammered in his chest, his gaze fixed on the pendant before trailing back to the second princess. The one he had kissed, who he still wanted to kiss again and again.

The one who made him feel things he couldn’t understand. Things he shouldn’t feel to begin with.

The one who wasn’t Sienna.

Yet, perhaps she was the one he loved.

“It belonged to Sienna. A birthday gift that she had… lost in the Grand Forest.” Y/N confessed, eyes still fixed on the bird that mocked her with its existence.

“Princess I—”

“You’ve given your heart to her, haven’t you?”

The question felt like a punch in her own gut.

She knew it was low of her.

To ask him this question when she was possibly one of the biggest reasons behind his misunderstandings.

Yet seeing him wear the necklace that had once hung around Sienna’s neck made her heart pound painfully against her chest. A bitter taste spread across her tongue, intensifying with every passing moment.

Her mind flashed back to the night of the banquet. Back to his eyes, soft and adoring as they lingered on Sienna, while she stood right there.

He should have recognized her. Even if he couldn’t.

He should have.

She already knew his answer would disappoint her. That it would hurt her. But she refused to admit it, refused to face the truth that hung between them.

Everyone saw the person they loved as the most beautiful in the world. Chan had done the same.

His eyes had always been drawn to Sienna, the woman who, to Y/N, was the prettiest woman she knew. Her older sister, the first princess.

The original owner of the Crystal Bird.

“I must love Sienna.” Chris’ words cut through the heavy silence, breaking Y/N from her trance.

She stared at him, her expression widening in a mix of confusion and something else as she processed whatever he just said. Unsure of what that meant.

The Warrior Prince’s face twisted in conflict, his expression torn as his eyes flicked down, between the crystal pendant and the second princess standing before him again.

“She—” He hesitated, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to explain the bond he shared with his princess without revealing the childhood secrets that they shared.

But seeing Y/N, shivering and drenched, just an arm’s reach away from him, his heart urged him to speak. To say anything that might erase the hurt from her face, tell her everything about those clandestine meetings by the river.

“She’s... my savior. My friend. Once upon a time. I-I owe her my life.” The words came easily, tumbling from his lips, yet they made sense to him.

His words were true, the most honest he had ever been ever since he had come here. An explanation made with all the best words he could find.

A childhood friend who he had spent his entire formative years dreaming of, the memories of the girl that saved him. The one he made promises to.

But as the weight of his words settled in the thick silence, so did the tension. The only sound was the relentless patter of rain, growing louder, drowning out everything else in the dark of the night.

Y/N’s brows softened as she took in his confession. She dropped her head, eyes falling to the ground as she stared at her feet, her mud-streaked dress clinging to her legs, weighing her down. Her eyes relaxing at the sight, coming to her own conclusions.

Chan must love her because she saved him.

Yet here he was, kissing some other woman because he didn’t truly love his savior.

Her brows furrowed, the thoughts rushing through her one after another.

Then…would he have simply loved her too just because she was his savior? His childhood friend?

A duty? A debt he must repay?

Her mind was reeling, from everything she had overheard back in the library. From the painful ache in her chest, from Chan’s looming presence that she craved but hated being in.

From those kisses.

The love stories she had once imagined with Chan, stories she had dreamt of for years, shattered with a resounding crash in her ears. The sound was deafening, impossible to ignore.

The Second Princess bit her bottom lip, holding back the tears that pricked at her eyes.

She inhaled.

“Princess Sienna does not love you.” Her words were sharp, breaking a silence that made him stare at her with raised brows.

“Princess Sienna is not your savior. And she does not remember—” Her gaze trailed up from the ground to settle on the crystal bird that rested against his chest.

“...She does not remember ever owning that trinket. It had been a forgotten thing long ago.” Her voice wavered with a bitter edge.

There was disdain in her tone, aware that her words were cutting him deep. That she should say something, anything to soothe that shocked expression on his face, the uneasiness that perhaps gripped at his heart.

That she should finally, finally tell him the truth.

“Sienna is not your friend.” It was a truth, but it wasn’t.

It was the shattering of this man’s hopes.

Which she could see as he inhaled silently, absorbing in her words. The venom in her tone, muffled by the loud thunder and rain.

“Princess…”

“You shouldn’t be out here—Neither of us should be here.” Y/N’s tone hardened as she glanced around at the their dark surroundings, controlling her emotions.

That expression, those scowls that had forever been an image the Warrior Prince had tied with her, was drawn on her face. A return of that persona of the Second Princess of Elysium, a role she was exceptional at falling into.

Y/N shifted her gaze away from him, taking a step further away, her back brushing against the tall hedges of this maze-like garden. As if distancing herself from the scene they had just created. Like she had the first night they stood in the shadows of this very garden.

“I advise you to return to your chambers. Tonight—” Her voice faltered at the glimpse of his eyes boring into hers, but she quickly regained control, her breath catching in her throat.

“Tonight did not happen.” Her words were final.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Y/N gripped the sides of her dress, her fingers balling the fabric into her fists, the wetness of her clothes clinging to her skin, her emotions threatening to spill. She forced herself to curtsy, her movements stiff almost in the damp, mud-streaked dress.

Chris took a step forward, his hand reaching out but faltering in the air.

“No, Y/N listen—”

“Prince Christopher. Please allow me to return.” She was afraid to lift her bowed head, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort to keep her composure, heart breaking with every word.

Once again the Warrior Prince inhaled, his eyes suddenly raking over her trembling figure, the rain further drenching her with every drop. Suddenly he realized she must be freezing, that she was still recovering and being out here in the rain was not the best for her in such a condition. Yet, he had kept her here, with his pull, with his kiss.

His arm dropped to his side.

“Please return safely, Princess.” His voice softened, the words laced with a quiet, aching sorrow.

And without another word, Y/N turned and fled, moving swiftly through the garden, refusing to look back. Her footsteps were hurried, as though she were escaping not just the rain, but the weight of everything that had just been said, everything that had just unfolded. Attempting to escape a night that had finally lifted that veil in front of her eyes, one she tried so hard to keep in place.

She ran from her, once Chan.

The Nightshade Crown Prince stared at her retreating figure, the pale yellow of her dress disappearing from his sight. Suddenly there was bitterness in his mouth. From anger, from regret.

From hurt.

He inhaled, feeling the looming presence just outside the hedges.

“Minho.”

The Midnight Leader, hidden in the shadows, had been silently watching from a distance. He appeared at Chris’ side almost instantly, his presence quiet, but ever watchful.

“Make sure she returns without being seen.” Chris ordered, his tone low but firm, his eyes never leaving the fading figure of Y/N.

Minho hesitated, a flicker of doubt in his gaze. A quietness that his master was easily able to read.

“You shouldn’t have told me about her if you didn’t plan on getting involved.” Chris’ voice hardened, a command that left no room for argument.

Minho dropped his gaze, his expression unreadable.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

And with that, the shadow warrior vanished into the night, as his prince stood there, still staring into the empty garden. Heart suddenly heavier than it was, much conflicted than he had ever been.

Chris couldn’t make sense of what had just transpired. He was here, yes, but the choices he had made, the actions he had taken, left him bewildered. Left him mortified.

He could still picture Y/N’s face, twisted in pain as she cried, her sobs cutting through the air like daggers. That image haunted him, part of him wanting to fix whatever had caused her to run out here in tears, another part of him afraid she was hurt.

But then, the kiss. The way her warmth had pressed into him, how desperately he had craved it. He couldn’t shake the feeling of her so close, so real against him.

Instinctively, his hand closed around the crystal bird hanging from his neck, the cool stone grounding him like it always had whenever his thoughts threatened to overwhelm him.

Still, even as he held it, he groaned in frustration. The image of her staring down at this same jewel with her hardened expression flashed before him.

A memory that made him drag his other hand down his face.

What the hell had he done?

He shouldn’t have come out here.

He should have treated Minho’s report like any other. The routine words he always delivered after every special task. He should have dismissed the mention of his Midnight Captain sighting her out here earlier in the evening on his return from his mission.

But something about it had gnawed at him.

Why was the second princess running around palace grounds like a thief? In this weather, in the dark of the night?

Minho had mentioned it briefly, his words laced with suspicion, but as the rainstorm intensified, so did the unease eating away at Chris’ thoughts. Something in him tried to convince himself that he was out here because of his duties as Nightshade’s Crown Prince. To uncover potential sneaky ruses that seemed to take place in the middle of the night here in Elysium.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew deep down it wasn’t true.

Perhaps that was when he made his first wrong choice.

But now the Warrior Prince stood in the midst of the wet garden, the pouring rain drenching his lone figure as he cursed himself for making such terrible choices.

He had returned to his chambers, dripping wet, a sight that made Han fix him with that unreadable, judgmental gaze he often wore when he kept his thoughts to himself.

But Chris needed the nagging. He needed the younger guard’s berating words to distract him from whatever had unfolded in the darkness of the garden.

But there was none of that. Instead, Han simply stared at him, eyes intense.

“You can’t love two women Chris.”

Han’s words had immediately pulled Chris back to his reality, big eyes staring at his friend with a sudden shock.

Aware deep down that whatever Han had just said was the very ones pricking at his conscious.

Of course Han would notice, without his Prince ever having to voice any of it. He was his closest friend, his confidant. And as the sole person at the older Prince’s side almost all hours of the day, he’s easily able to catch the lingering gazes, the stifled smiles that Chris thought he hid well.

All directed towards another princess.

And especially now, with how Chris had almost rushed out into the night, with no strategy besides some lame excuses behind such recklessness, the truth had been laid bare.

The personal guard had long suspected it. The pull the second princess seemed to have on his prince was worrisome from the moment he had noticed. Not that Chris having feelings for either of the enemy princess’ was any less concerning.

It was astonishing almost for Han.

At how easily Chris had fallen for Princess Y/N. Even if he claimed it wasn’t so.

Chris had pined for an unnamed princess for the past decade. Imagining, re-imagining how beautiful she must have grown to be. How resolute, how compassionate she must be.

Expressive, justice-driven.

Curious, ambitious.

Qualities that his now grown princess was didn’t portray.

Qualities that another princess possessed.

Han looked at Chris now, sitting in silence, his hair still dripping, staring at the floor, clearly lost in the weight of the words the guard uttered, of his own thoughts.

“I-I don’t know what to do.” Chris finally breathed out, his voice laced with confusion and a twinge of frustration, wiping the wet streaks from his face.

Han had always been in awe of Chris’ unwavering devotion to his princess. His belief that theirs was a love story, despite the obstacles in their way. A true love story.

But Han had never imagined it would be this tragic.

The unnamed princess didn’t remember Chris. She had changed into someone he didn’t recognize, someone different from the person he had once adored.

In that moment, Han wished that Princess Y/N had been the one Chris had dreamed of for so long.

Even if their nations were enemies, even if they were torn apart by the duties they owed their kingdoms, a love story between them would have been tragic in a way that at least left room for remembrance.

At least they would have loved each other. And Han could only watch pitifully.

“For now—dry off.” Han sighed, moving toward the grand wardrobe to pull out something dry for his prince.

“We should discuss what Minho reported. It’s quite concerning.” Han tried to redirect the conversation, but Chris blinked up at him with narrowed brows.

“—The other thing he stumbled upon.”

Chris groaned, rubbing his face in frustration, trying to steady himself. He had to focus, to remember his duties as the Nightshade Kingdom’s Crown Prince.

Minho’s report had been direct, yet still quite alarming. The Midnight leader had reported about the large group of knights stationed at the border. His mission had been quite straightforward, yet he didn’t expect to see such a scene. Elysium had never been a military nation, known more for their entrepreneurship rather than their fighting prowess. So to see such a large military presence just beyond the walls that separated the two kingdoms was unexpected.

They were building an army.

And they planned to attack.

It was a conclusion any sensible person would come to. Though the Nightshade warriors had suspected it from the start, witnessing it firsthand was a different matter.

“They don’t plan to let me return safely. It’s clear enough.” Chris muttered, eyes flashing with frustration and anger.

“Maybe as we get closer to the border, they plan to ambush us.” He spat, snatching the drying cloth Han had handed him, the wet fabric now gripped in his fists.

The personal guard’s brows furrowed. He knew it was a likely scenario, and he was unafraid of a fight, especially when it meant protecting his prince. But still, the thought of an ambush sent a chill through him.

“Should we do anything to prepare?” Han asked, his voice steady, though concern flickered in his eyes as he awaited his prince’s orders.

Chris glanced between his guard and then out toward the window, where the storm outside seemed to mirror his growing unease. Thunder rumbled, and lightning lit up the sky.

“Command the warriors to stay on defense for now. Keep an eye on anything suspicious happening in their quarters.” His tone was cold, precise.

“And—” Chris suddenly fell silent, his eyes fixed on nothing as though lost in thought, as if something had just come rushing back to him.

He recalled Princess Y/N’s words. The ones she had whispered through her tears, clinging to him in the garden.

“You must leave Prince Christopher.”

At first, he had believed she said them simply because of his forbidden presence, because of the comfort he had offered. But now, those words took on a new weight.

They felt like a warning.

The Second Princess of Elysium knew something. And whatever it was, it was likely the cause of her frantic actions tonight.

“...Your highness?” Han’s concerned voice had broken him from his trance.

Chris shook his head, as if clearing the fog, before his gaze sharpened.

“Let’s meet with the second princess tomorrow.”

Han blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in direction of their next moves.

“For Nightshade duties, nothing else.” Chris could easily read the younger warrior’s expression.

Han’s expression betrayed his confusion and skepticism, which Chris’ spotted clear on his face. He should feel upset, frustrated at the lack of faith his personal guard and his Midnight leader had in him. But, given how every action involving Princess Y/N had been driven by forces beyond his control, he didn’t blame them.

Still, now was not the time to be a fool. His crown, his responsibilities as the heir to Nightshade, outweighed everything else. His duty was clear, no matter where his heart tried to lead him.

But the next morning the Nightshade Prince found himself sitting across Princess Sienna. He had invited the Second Princess for tea, of course as a ruse, but didn’t expect the first princess in her place.

He should have been happy. But instead, his heart twisted with an unfamiliar sensation when he realized he wasn’t so.

“I apologize for my sudden presence Prince Christopher, but Y/N was feeling unwell this morning and I decided to keep you company instead.” She smiled, the kind of smiles that had made him look at her in admiration, once.

Yet, all the Warrior Prince could feel was his heart hammering against his chest. His concern for Y/N, evident in his wide eyes that seemed to bore into Sienna.

“Unwell? Is she alright? Did something els—” He caught himself, his barrage of questions tinged with worry.

It almost slipped that he and Y/N had been together last night. The way Sienna’s startled gaze met his, made him gulp.

“Did something happen to her?” He finished with a simple question, hoping it wouldn’t betray him further.

“Ah…” Sienna hesitated, glancing between the attendant who was pouring tea and the prince sitting before her.

“She had a fever from forgetting to close the balcony doors last night. She’s resting now, but is alright otherwise. Thank you for your concern, your highness.”

The excuse made sense. An easy lie, one that only the Second Princess could deliver with such effortless ease, convincing the softer, more trusting First Princess. But Chris saw through it. He knew the real reason, and guilt gnawed at him, pulling his mind back to last night. Y/N’s drenched form, pressed against him, burned into his thoughts.

Sienna had fallen back into their shared breakfast, reaching for her cup of tea, unknowing of the turmoil churning in the man that sat across her.

“You seem to have a special attachment to that piece of jewelry.” Sienna remarked, breaking the silence, a question that tore him away from his clouded thoughts.

His eyes trailed to the crystal bird, before snapping up to Sienna. Chris stared at the graceful smile still playing on her lips, waiting for a response.

In his mind, he heard Y/N’s sharp words from the night before.

“Do you really not recall this thing, Princess?” Chris’ voice was steady, but his gaze was intent, hoping for Sienna to nod and admit she remembered.

Part of him needed her to confess, but another part…

“I don’t.” Her brows had furrowed with confusion, staring at the little trinket against the fabric of his shirt.

“It seemed familiar when I first saw it.” She continued, her words flowing easily.

“Perhaps I had something like it as a child. Or maybe, seeing something so simple among all the heavy jewelry at the banquet caught my eye.” She pondered aloud, unaware of the deepening void her words created in Chris’ mind.

The Warrior Prince gripped his cup tightly. The harshness of Y/N’s words, now so true, echoed in his thoughts. He watched Sienna take another sip of her tea, his mind spinning.

For a moment, his brow furrowed, then slowly relaxed. His eyes blinked as he looked at the young lady across from him,

He had a sudden realization.

One he should have had the moment he met Sienna. That this princess was not his once friend.

That his childhood companion, the one who he had been desperate to reunite with, was not here.

She hadn’t been here from the beginning, perhaps disappearing the day he failed to show up.

Maybe he had conjured her up. His imagination created a friend in his desperate need to survive in that river that day. But he knew that that wasn’t true. That she was a real person. One Han had seen. One who left behind this crystal bird that he carried with him for the last decade, and memories he still held dearly.

It would have been easier. To come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t real.

But as he stared at Sienna he realized.

His childhood friend had died.

Along with the memories the first princess did not remember. The ones she lost. His childhood friend was amongst them.

Instead he was chasing after the ghost of someone who once was.

And Sienna was nothing but the First Princess of Elysium.

Nothing but a stranger.

He felt his throat go dry.

Y/N couldn’t quite recall how she had returned to her chambers, or how she managed to avoid being seen. She vaguely remembered finding her knight passed out outside her door. The sight of his figure slumped against the wall as if he was knocked unconscious rather than asleep, should have felt bizarre to her. Or maybe he had likely grown too comfortable as the night wore on and decided that standing guard was no longer necessary.

But none of that seemed to matter now.

What weighed on her mind was something else entirely.

She had drifted in and out of her own consciousness throughout the night, only to fully realize, when the fever finally took hold, that she was unwell, burning with heat. By then, Anna had already been at her side, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead.

The rain had been relentless indeed, even opening her eyes had been difficult, her body trembling uncontrollably. It wasn’t until noon that her fever finally broke, and she blinked up to find Anna staring down at her with a mixture of worry and fear. She had even managed to mutter possible excuses of her fever in between her haze, something about the balcony doors.

Sienna had apparently visited early in the morning, and while she was there, an attendant from Ruby Hall had come with an invitation from Prince Christopher, requesting her presence.

Of course, Y/N couldn’t go. So, Sienna had gone in her stead, the right gesture for a princess in such a situation. Yet, that did little to ease the ache in Y/N’s chest. It only reminded her that she was still in love with the enemy prince. The one who hurt her.

Rather, the one she hurt, with her harsh tone, her venomous words. From her hiding of the truth.

Perhaps she should feel relieved that she had fallen ill, sparing her from facing him. To avoid those intent gazes that seemed to pierce her very soul. To escape the memory of his lips, searing hot against hers.

“I’ve changed the bandages and applied the salve on your wound. It seemed to have been irritated by the rain,” Anna’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts as she gently helped Y/N sit up in bed.

Y/N instinctively glanced at her shoulder, understanding now why it had been sore last night.

“You really scared me, my lady.” Anna murmured, her voice soft as she furrowed her brow in concern.

Y/N looked at the young girl, offering a faint smile as she reached out to gently squeeze Anna’s hand.

“I’m sorry. You must have been worried sick.”

Anna shook her head, returning the squeeze with a quiet reassurance.

“I’m just glad you’re alright. And I’m sure you’ll feel even better after a light lunch. What would you like prepared, my lady?” Anna asked, already standing and heading toward the door, ready to go to the kitchen hall.

“Lunch?” Y/N blinked, her eyes darting toward the balcony doors. The curtains were drawn open, and bright afternoon sunlight streamed in.

“What time is it?” She asked, surprised by the sudden realization of how late it had become.

“Oh�� it’s half past noon. Don’t worry about your duties. I’ve already told the attendants you’ll be resting today—”

“Help me get dressed. I promised Prince Hyunjin I’d have lunch with him.” Y/N moved quickly, as if the fever from earlier hadn’t even touched her.

“Princess, you must rest!” Anna insisted, her brows knitting into a frown.

“It’s just lunch with company, nothing too demanding. I promise.” Y/N said with a wide smile.

Anna’s resolve easily wavered. The princess’ smile always seemed to have that effect. With a heavy sigh, she turned toward the wardrobe to prepare Y/N’s clothes.

Hyunjin was surprised to see Y/N. The Second Princess, who he’d been told was feeling unwell, greeted him with a quick curtsy, her smile bright despite her condition. He had expected to have lunch alone, perhaps exchanging a few words with Seungmin, but the guard was hardly a conversationalist, so it was likely he would have just rambled by himself. The sight of Y/N now standing before him, instead made him smile.

“Are you feeling better?” Hyunjin stood from his chair, gesturing for her to take the chair a servant had pulled out for her.

The Second Princess settled into her seat gracefully, and Hyunjin followed, leaning back in his own chair.

“It was just a slight fever, nothing too concerning.” She nodded, glancing up at the servant pouring them their tea.

“I would have understood if you decided to rest instead.”

“Prince Hyunjin, truly, I am fine.” Y/N pressed, reaching for the book he’d been reading, her fingers brushing over the pages.

Hyunjin’s gaze lingered on her, knowing she was still recovering. A faint weariness in her expression that didn’t hide well. The Sylvancrest Prince’s eyes settled on her smile as she stared down at the pages she flitted through.

“I’ve always wondered…” Y/N began. “Are the Sylvancrest lakes as vast as they’re described here?” She glanced up at him, her eyes curious, waiting for his response.

“How about you visit and see for yourself?” Hyunjin suggested, his head tilting slightly, his lips pulling into a smile.

He reached for his drink, taking a sip before setting it back with a quiet clink against the coaster.

“Would you like to go to Sylvancrest with me, Princess?”

His question hung in the air. The Princess across blinked, her smile faltering as she met his gaze. Hyunjin’s expression was warm as always, but now there was an intensity in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

Princesses weren’t allowed to leave their nation unless married into another. A rule that was well known, and one Hyunjin surely understood.

Her heart raced in her chest as she stared at him, unsure how to respond to the foreign prince who had always been kind to her, yet now seemed to be hinting at something more. His gaze suddenly became unreadable, and for a moment, the weight of the silence between them felt heavy.

But in that silence, all Y/N could think about was Chan.

The enemy prince she still loved. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

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silent-stories · 5 months ago

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Out of the castle

(Eddie Munson x F!reader) fantasy au

It's dangerous to leave the castle without any protection, without guards. This is what you had been told your whole life and yet, until that moment it was the only way you had found to have fun, relax and spend some time alone, without anyone telling you to walk with your head held higher, how to eat or what to say.

You had the opportunity to feel the grass under your feet, the sun's rays on your face and the wind in your hair, smell the scent of flowers and spices, meet new people or walk through the town market without everyone staring at you or worse, bowing.

You had never understood that stupid gesture that made you feel extremely embarrassed every time. You lived in a castle doing almost nothing every day and you were born with the privilege of getting to learn how to read and write while the common people worked hard to feed their families, sometimes giving up their daily meal for the sake of their children, and they were the ones who bowed when they saw you?

They deserved much more respect than you and your family.

However, your parents didn't seem to understand it.

You didn't know how far you had gone from the castle that morning, but that had never worried you since its towers were visible in every part of the the city, and perhaps the kingdom, from how tall they were.

The narrow path you had walked, wound through the trees and the leaves formed a green roof over your head, filtering the sun's rays. The ground was soft beneath your feet, covered in moss and some dry leaves.

You thought that if your mother found your muddy boots hidden in the closet again, she would kill you and the kingdom would be left without heirs.

The clearing you had reached was surrounded by many tall oaks and a lake, calm and serene, stretched out in front of you. The crystal clear water reflected the blue of the sky.

The frogs croaked undisturbed and some birds, hidden among the branches, were singing.

It seemed like one of those fairytale places that you only read about in books and you wondered if there were sometimes fairies there. You didn't know if they really existed or not but you had read so many legends about creatures like them, that you had started to believe them.

The "crazy" old man who preached outside the bakery a few days earlier was sure to talk to them every night.

“I thought I was the only one who knew about this place.” A voice coming from behind you almost made you fall into the lake. Luckily it didn't happen: you can't teach a princess to swim.

Turning around, you looked at the young man in front of you for a moment. He was wearing a beige shirt (buttoned the wrong way), dark pants with a seam on one knee, and a brown belt around his waist. He didn't seem to have any bad intentions and looked at you with only slight curiosity painted on his face. His curly hair was messy and his brown eyes were still staring at you.

"Since we're both here, I guess you were wrong." You finally spoke.

He softly chuckled under his breath. “How did you find this place?”

“I was just…exploring.”

"Mm." He looked at you like he thought you were lying. “Well, I often come here to fish, so as long as you don't steal my fish, you are allowed to stay.” He added with a smirk.

“Allowed” You repeated to yourself, chuckling. You almost wanted to say that that place was technically yours, considering that one day you would be queen, but you didn't.

"Wait a minute," he said, his eyes widening, "we've seen each other before."

"Oh, I don't think so." You were quick to deny. "I don't leave my house much, I like... reading and painting."

You closed your eyes for a moment, sighing. They were the richest activities anyone could mention, dammit.

"But we did!" He exclaimed as a smile formed on his face, dimples on his cheeks, "You gave me a gold coin a month ago."

He was definitely prettier than any man your father wanted you to marry.

You shrugged. "I don't remember."

So he was the boy singing sat on the sidewalk that everyone was ignoring that evening.

"That's impossible! I was playing my lute outside a shop and you left a fucking gold coin in my hat! My uncle and I got three meals a day for a week thanks to that, and I even bought new boots! I never had the chance to thank you because a moment later you were already gone and I always wondered how the hell you managed to have such a coin and why the hell you decided to give it to me but now-" his babbling suddenly stopped.

"What?" You asked.

"No way." He murmured. "God, I'm so stupid!" He added, suddenly starting to bow.

That was always the worst part.

"I'm really so stupid. I don't know how I didn't notice before, I beg you to forgive me, I never meant to disrespect you and I'm deeply sorry for any-"

"No no no. Please stop. Don't." You grabbed his arm before he could bow.

He stopped mid-action, his knee almost about to meet the ground, and looked up at you, surprised.

"I'm serious, really. There's no need" You added, helping him up.

"But you're the princess." He murmured, confused.

"I know. But it's not that important, really."

It sounded funny, you had to admit that.

When he stood up and you realized you were still holding his arm, you let your hand fall to your side.

“So I won't have my head chopped off in public?”

You laughed.

"I'm serious!"

"I'm sorry. No, your head will be on your shoulders for a while longer."

"Okay, in that case." He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss that barely touched your fingers. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess of Hawkins. My name is Edward, Eddie to my friends, at your service."

“Call me Y/N, please.” A smile was on your lips caused by his theatrical ways.

"Wow." He murmured then, looking at you.

"What?"

"It's just... really weird. Seeing you here. Alone. Without twenty men ready to rip in two anyone who comes near you. Why aren't you...?" He raised an arm, pointing to the castle towers visible despite the tall trees. "I won't take 'I was exploring' for an answer."

"I ran away."

Eddie looked at you in surprise.

"I'll come back. I always come back. I have to. But sometimes I need time outside that castle. I can't spend my life locked inside those walls when there's a world to explore outside. So... I was really just exploring, actually."

"You have any idea how many people could like- kidnap you and return you to your family in exchange for chests full of gold? Assassins, pirates, hitmen..."

“Oh god, you sound like my family!”

He chuckled. "Sorry."

You never thought you'd find a friend outside the castle walls, someone you could talk to as if you weren't the heir to the throne and yet that morning, you spent it all talking to Eddie on the shore of the lake that only you seemed to know.

You realized that maybe Eddie could become your first friend ever.

You liked the way he laughed at your jokes and how he rolled his eyes, apologizing every time you scolded him when he called you “princess.”

"Do you know that your shirt is buttoned in the wrong way?"

"Princess, you live in a castle. You don't know the latest fashion trends."

You loved the way his brown eyes had so many shades of gold when they were hit by the sun's rays filtering through the leaves.

You liked the way he could weave fantasy with reality and confuse you, leading you to believe that the magic he claimed to be true actually existed.

"Of course fairies exist! They are small shiny beings and are only kind to those who are kind to them. A bit like all of us, isn't it?"

You liked his humor, sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose or was he was just like that.

"What about dragons?"

"You telling me you've never seen a dragon?"

"You telling me you saw a fucking dragon?"

"Hey, you know that for a princess you talk a lot like the people who work at the port, sometimes?"

And after hours, when you realized that if you were gone too long, they would find out about your absence, you had to say goodbye to him.

"Do you... do you think I'll see you again?" You asked then.

"Hey, I told you. I come fishing here often. And you can find me sitting on some sidewalk playing my lute."

You laughed. "Of course. See you then."

"See you."

You laughed when he gave an awkward bow.

The moment you started to walk away, you remembered something.

"Hey, Eddie!" You called out to him, before pulling a gold coin out of a pocket in your dress and tossing it to him.

He caught it.

And like the time before, before he could thank you, you were already gone.

#i kinda wanna write more of this #but i considered this just a drabble! thats why i didnt tag anyone!#eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fantasy au #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x princess!reader #eddie munson fluff

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snowzing1 · 8 months ago

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I kinda hope this can become a trend of sorts, I'd love to see everyone's version of Frans related content to the audio, it'd be so cute. But it also took me a good few weeks, maybe a month, to make something this simple. I haven't kept track. Maybe one day in the future I can redraw this but better. I wanted to do a different pose, before settling on this because of all the different versions of each character and I wanted to try making it as easy to follow with your eyes as possible

Aus in order (I hope)

Classic Undertale by Toby

FaithTale by Momo & Vivi

DanceTale by Teandstars & sterrenschijnsel

HowlingTale by ComyCat

CircusSwap by Isabella

FlowerFell by Siviosanei

ChessTale by MINTYSAMMY

Fresh Sans by Crayone Queen Fresh Frisk by jjaydazo

HorrorTale by SourAppleStudios

BirdTale by Greyscale

FateTale by Pinky102ZaneXd2

RealFell by Slastena Shipper & JustLovers (official blog)

MusicTale by Kiwid_nz Tumblr + Deviantart

Written in Blood by Sofiathehooman

UnderFell by Vic the Underfella Tumblr + Twitter

OuterTale by Mimi Pippinski

CandyTale by BabyAbbieStar/arumi-star

Vlasttale by nakamiraa

AxeTale by uhhbananafrappe, azulandrojo & ataleofaxes

UnderLust by StaleElephantBones & NSFWShamecave

GangsterTale by cocpcoco

FreedomTale by Freedom

UnderSwap by p0pcornPr1nce

SnowWhite au thing by FransFanatic

Kingdom of the Crystal Sky by The Writing Mobster

The World After the War by Isabella

The colours mean nothing, it's just to make it easier on the eyes and such for people scrolling.

Please correct me if I have discredited at all, I used google for a good chunk and didn't dig that deep into the individual authors. Nor do I keep up with communities in general. I'm bad for that. I wanted to do so many more aus but ran out of audio time. I want to do more like this sometime and try doing different or more aus

I was threatened to ping some of these people and I feel bad, I'm sorry TwT It was also an added panic to find out which of these people are still active/ like undertale or Frans and which don't. I'm sorryyyyyy

I also reached the tag limit.

@jjaydazo @slastena-shipper @kiwidnz @sofiathehooman @nakamiraa @cocpcoco @thefreedomskeleton @fransfanatic @fic-and-art-for-ships

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hotale-au · 2 years ago

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Woah wait—Lunar is thereeee-

A discarded piece supposedly for Error's bday xD

Credits to the owners:

Underfell!Sans - @/underfell

Underswap!Sans - @/underswapped3

Fellswap Gold!Sans - @blackggggum

Swapfell Red(Yib)!Sans - @ybmiyuki

Swapfell!Sans - @kkhoppang / @nishimori38

Dust!Sans - @ask-dusttale

Killer!Sans - @/rahafwabas

Horrortale!Sans - @/horrortalecomic

Ink!Sans - @/myebi

Reaper!Sans - @/renrink

Error, Fresh, Geno and Blueberror - @/loverofpiggies

Mob!Sans - @mobtale

Core!Frisk - @corefrisk

Outer!Sans- @outertale

ParasiteTale!Sans- @bloowe-blu

Insane!Sans - @tatatale

BruteTale!Sans and Papyrus - @clacy2812

FaultTale!Sans - @davidthebusy

Flowerfell!Sans - @/siviosanei

Axetale!Sans - @uhhbananafrappe/@axetale

Silenttale!Sans, HoTale!Sans & FateTale!Sans - @pplayz / @pinky102zanexd / @pinky102zanexd2

KOTCS Frans - @kodizzzle / @kingdom-of-the-crystal-sky-blog

BypassTime!Sans - me :p

Supposedly gotta put more characters but I think I'm too ahead of time for it lol. Thanks to those who suggested the characters for me to add!!

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alxtiny · 3 months ago

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Ad Astra per Aspera

Prologue.

Pairing: Pirate!Ateez x Navigator!reader

Genre: pirate!au, fluff, angst, maybe smut

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: -

Notes: i have taken pieces from various sources but my favouritism towards one piece has started to show TT TT

Series Masterlist | Episode 1

In the beginning, there was only one land—the land of Zaitsev. It stretched across a vast expanse, bordered by mountains that kissed the sky, and oceans that cradled the edges of the world. Zaitsev was a land of abundance, where forests teemed with life, rivers flowed with crystal-clear water, and the soil was fertile enough to sustain the most exotic of crops. Under the rule of the Great King, the people of Zaitsev flourished, living in harmony despite their differences.

The people of Zaitsev were a diverse mosaic. Their faces bore the marks of countless ancestries, their features varied like the colors in a painter’s palette. Some had skin the color of deep earth, others the shade of frosty snow in the sunlight. Hair ranged from the darkest midnight to the brightest dawn, and eyes gleamed like precious stones—emerald, sapphire, amber, and onyx. Their languages were many, their traditions rich and varied, yet they were united under one purpose, one ruler, one land. This unity made the ropes that bound together the land of Zaitsev.

The Great King was a man of wisdom, wisdom that came with age and etched itself into his skin. Under his reign, Zaitsev knew peace and prosperity. Disputes were settled through verse, and the scales of justice held complete balance.

But even in the most peaceful of lands, there are forces that seek to disrupt the balance. That’s when came The Sever

The Sever was not an immediate rupture, but rather very gradual, almost unperceivable unravelling. It began as whispers—rumours of discontent among the people, murmurs of disillusionment with the monarchy. Some said that the Great King had become too old, too distant, that he no longer could give what the country demanded. Others claimed that certain regions were being neglected, their resources diverted to the capital while they suffered in silence. These whispers grew louder over time, but they were dismissed as mere gossip by most. After all, Zaitsev had always been one, always been strong. How could it ever fall apart?

But the seeds of division had been sown, and they began to take root in the hearts of the people. Regional identities, that once held together the nation’s fabric like vibrant threads, began to take on a new significance. People started to think of themselves not as citizens of Zaitsev, but as members of their own regions. The differences that had once been a source of pride now became points of contention. The land of Zaitsev had begun to fracture. Figuratively and literally. Natural disasters were quick to hit. Lakes and rivers became seas and oceans. Mountains grew higher and trenches became deeper.

The Great King, sensing the growing unrest, tried to quell the divisions by bringing the leaders of each region together. He sought to remind them of their shared history, their common bonds, and the strength that came from concord. But his efforts were in vain. The divisions had grown too deep, the grievances too bitter. The Sever was inevitable.

It began in the farthest reaches of the kingdom, in the regions now known as the Northern and Southern Aurora Archipelagos. The people there had long felt isolated, sitting on the very borders, almost ignored by the others. They were the first to break off, as pieces of land that slowly drifted away and formed a cluster, proclaiming that they would no longer be ruled by a distant king who did not understand their needs.

One by one, the other regions followed suit. Hell Volhard, with its rugged mountains and frozen lakes, was next, followed by the fertile plains of Rosenmund. Etard, with its lush forests, and Wolff, with its rolling hills, soon joined. Kischner, Hinsberg, and Levaer, all declared their independence. Aldol, the region closest to the capital, was the last to secede, but it did so with a heavy heart. It was the end of an era.

The land of Zaitsev was no more. What had once been one was now divided into ten—ten regions, each with its own ruler, its own government, its own people. The integration that had been the foundation of Zaitsev was shattered, replaced by a peace that held the fragility of glass.

The Great King, heartbroken by the dissolution of his kingdom, fell into a deep despair. He withdrew from public life, retreating to his palace where he spent his final days in solitude. When he died, there was no grand funeral, no mourning across the land. The regions were too divided, too consumed by their own struggles to care. The king’s death went almost unnoticed, a quiet end to a once-great ruler.

The throne passed to the king’s son, a young man untested and unprepared for the challenges he would face. Unlike his father, the new king lacked the wisdom and patience to navigate the complexities of a fractured kingdom. He was brash, impulsive, and driven by a desire for power. But his actions only served to deepen the furrows that already existed. His attempts to assert his authority were met with resistance from the other regions, who saw him as nothing more than a pretender to a throne that no longer existed.

Chaos reigned. The people looked instead to their regional leaders, the elders who had guided them through the turbulent times of The Sever. These elders, each respected in their own right, became the de facto rulers of their regions. They spoke of the old ways, of the time before The Sever, and sought to preserve what they could of Zaitsev’s legacy. But their visions for the future were as varied as the regions they represented, and there was little consensus on how to move forward.

Of the ten regions, only Aldol remained with a ruler who commanded true authority. The new king, desperate to regain control, focused his efforts on Aldol, using its military strength to assert his dominance. He knew that if he could control Aldol, he could control the rest of the regions. And so, he began to draw the smaller groups into his orbit, offering them protection in exchange for their loyalty. Treaties were signed, alliances were formed, and slowly, the new king began to rebuild his power base.

It was during this time that the Premier Aldolar Council was formed. Composed of the king, the elders from each region, and other influential leaders, the council was established to maintain a semblance of order in a world that seemed to be falling apart. It was a front, a show of negotiation and security. But beneath the surface, tensions simmered, and it was clear that the peace would not last forever.

As life resumed its new course, the people of Zaitsev tried to adapt to their changed circumstances. The memories of the old world refusing to fade entirely. But everything had changed, and there was no going back. The people did what they could to survive, clinging to the hope of a better future.

It was in this climate of uncertainty that a group of dissidents emerged. They called themselves the Guardians, and they were determined to restore the world to its former glory. The Guardians believed that the divisions between the regions were superficial, a product of human foibles.

The Guardians were not content to simply dream of a better world—they sought to create it. They believed that the key to advancement lay in the perfection of humanity itself. If they could eliminate the flaws that led to division—the human emotion. And so, they set out to develop a formula, one that would make humans flawless, unyielding to influence, and capable of creating an infallible society.

The formula was the culmination of years of research and experimentation. It was designed with the purpose of eliminating the weaknesses. Those who consumed the formula would be immune to all emotions that made a human weak. They would be the foundation of a new society, a utopia where Zaitsev was whole once more.

But the Guardians’ vision of utopia did not sit well with the Premier Aldolar Council. The council, already wary of any group that threatened the broken peace, saw the Guardians as a danger to the new order. The idea of creating “flawless” humans was too radical, too unpredictable. The council feared that the Guardians’ plan would lead to even greater conflict, and so they moved quickly to abolish the group. The Guardians were outlawed, their members hunted down, and their research seized by the king’s forces.

The formula, its creation, and its components were taken away from the Guardians. The council feared that the Guardians might resurface, but they kept this concern hidden from the public. To the outside world, the Guardians were a failed experiment, merely a comment in the story. But what the public did not know, and what the media could only wonder about, was that ten people had already consumed the formula.

Among them were the king himself, who had secretly taken the formula in a bid to gain the power he believed was his birthright, and the chief Guardian, who had taken the formula to ensure that the vision of the old world would live on. The remaining eight were subjects from each of the ten sectors—carefully selected individuals who had been chosen to test the formula. They were ordinary people by most accounts: farmers, artisans, scholars, and warriors. Yet each had shown potential, something that set them apart from the rest. After consuming the formula, these eight were set free, their identities kept secret, but not from each other, despite the distance and differences they kept contact in secret.

The decision to keep the formula's success buried was not made lightly. The king and the chief Guardian both understood the implications of revealing the existence of these enhanced individuals to the world. If the truth were known, it could ignite a firestorm of fear and ambition that would plunge the fractured land into further chaos. So, the truth was buried, and the ten who had taken the formula became shadows, their identities known only to a select few.

Despite their enhanced abilities, these individuals did not become the flawless beings the Guardians had envisioned. The formula had indeed bestowed upon them certain extraordinary traits, but it had not eradicated the human flaws.

Among the ten, the king began to notice changes within himself. He became more paranoid, selfish and often lost all reason. He had visions. It was as if his heart harboured all of the worst. He began to see enemies everywhere, even among his closest advisors. The power granted by the formula had come at a cost, and the king was slowly losing his grip on reality. He was forced into solitary, his kingdom depended on the council and the rare moments when he experienced clarity in his thoughts

The chief Guardian wasn’t affected. He didn’t achieve the raw power he had asked for, he wanted more of the formula for himself. He gathered the remaining Guardians who had survived the purge and went underground, forming a resistance against the new king. His mission was one, to get the formula back.

But there was one more who had taken the formula—the scientist who had created it. She was the first to test the formula on herself, driven not by the desire for perfection, but by her unrelenting thirst for knowledge and raw curiosity. She had been a member of the Guardians, though she never fully agreed with their vision. For her, the formula was a scientific marvel, a puzzle to be solved, and she pursued its creation with the same dedication she gave to all her work.

The scientist had not anticipated the impact the formula would have on her. Like the others, she gained extraordinary abilities, but hers were of a different nature. She found that she could perceive the world in ways that others could not, understanding complex systems and seeing connections that were invisible to everyone else. The world became a map only she could read. It was as if her mind had expanded, unlocking new dimensions of the unknown world. She realised that in the wrong hands, it could be catastrophic.

Recognizing the threat, the scientist chose to disappear, taking the original formula and all her research with her. She knew that as long as the formula existed, it would be sought after by those who would use it for their own gain. So, she went into hiding, leaving no trace of her whereabouts. The king, desperate to regain control and fully realising the potential of the formula, ordered an exhaustive search for her, but she was always one step ahead. To this day, she remains the only person who can recreate the formula, and the only one who truly understands its full potential.

With the scientist gone, both the king and the remnants of the Guardians have attempted to replicate the formula, but all have met with failure. Without the original formula and the scientist's expertise, they were working in the dark. The copies they produced were flawed, often with disastrous results. Some led to death or madness, others to physical mutations. The promise of perfection proved elusive, and the failures only fueled the desperation of those seeking the formula’s power.

Meanwhile, the ten who had taken the original formula began to drift apart, each following their own path. Some used their abilities to further their ambitions, becoming powerful leaders or influential figures within their sectors. Others chose a quieter life, hiding their abilities and trying to live as normally as possible. But the formula had changed them, and their lives could never be truly ordinary again. They were marked by their powers, and by the knowledge that they were different.

The king, ever more paranoid, began to suspect that the ten were plotting against him. He saw betrayal in every corner and began to turn on those who had once been his allies. His obsession with finding the scientist and reclaiming the original formula consumed him, leading him to neglect his duties as a ruler. Aldol, the one region still loyal to him, began to falter under the weight of his erratic leadership. The other sectors watched closely, waiting for the moment when they could strike.

As the king’s power waned, the Guardians grew stronger. They had learned from their mistakes, and under the chief Guardian’s leadership, they became a formidable force once more. Their goal remained the same: to reunite Zaitsev and create a flawless society. But their methods had changed. They no longer sought to create perfect humans through the formula; instead, they focused on winning the hearts and minds of the people. The Guardians became symbols of resistance, heroes to those who still believed in the old world. That was until their chief disappeared off the face of the earth.

In the midst of this growing tension, the scientist continued her solitary journey, watching from the shadows as the world she had inadvertently helped shape spiralled into chaos. She knew that eventually, she would be found—either by the king or the Guardians. But she was not ready to reveal herself, not until she was certain that her knowledge would not be misused. She had seen what the formula could do, and she knew that its power was too great to be wielded lightly.

The search for the scientist became a race against time. The king, driven by his fear of losing control, intensified his efforts, sending spies and soldiers across the land. The Guardians, ever resourceful, used their underground networks to track any leads on her whereabouts.

As the tensions between the sectors reached a boiling point, whispers of the formula’s true power began to spread among the people. The story of the ten who had taken it became the stuff of legend, fueling both hope and fear. Some saw the formula as the key to restoring Zaitsev, while others feared that it would bring about the end of the world as they knew it. The media, kept on a tight leash by the king’s regime, could only speculate, but the truth had a way of slipping through the cracks.

In this fractured world, the paths of the eight special beings, the king, the Guardians, and the scientist were destined to cross again. The formula, once thought to be the key to a better world, had instead become fuel for a growing fire. Its promise of perfection was a farce, a false shield, and its true potential was yet to be fully understood. As more people, thieves, high ranking nobles and military officers became aware of its existence the rat race for it became evident.

As the world skittered around the edge of another great upheaval, the paths of all those who had been touched by the formula were bound to converge.

Over a century has passed since the King, plagued with nightmares, ruled Aldol, the crown now sits on the head of his grand nephew, a man of an analytical mind but lacking compassion and sympathy. Guilds of the Guardians remain scattered throughout the continents but since the chief vanished, they have remained largely stagnant. The whereabouts of the scientist and her descendants still remain obscure, but since then have been mostly forgotten about.

The eight subjects have lived their lives and left behind traces of their abilities, passing them down genetically to one of their children and then their grandchildren. The ones that have now grown up and found each other through a chance of fate, and formed an odd band of pirates, each wielding a unique power. They feel an unrest in their bones and pain the earth has felt. They scour the seas, in search of the formula and answers, and to find a cure for their abilities that seem to be cursed by something deep beyond their current understanding.

And the world knows them as ATEEZ…..

Comment under series masterlist to be tagged

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist: @sushi0517 @yandere-stories

#ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reaction #ateez smut #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez writing #ateez ot8 #ateez poly #ateez pirate au #ateez au #ateez series #ateez ff #ateez lore #alxtiny:adastraperaspera

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aus-from-undertale · 2 months ago

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Frisk centric aus!

(or characters based on them)

UT mob - cute smol human Frisk is a puppy kept by papyrus and sans

Understeam- Frisk is an android

Outertale- Frisk is an astronaut

Underfell- Frisk is having a bad time

Soulfell- Frisk is still having a bad time

Underfell- yep, still bad time

Echotale- Frisk is a grown up in a twisted underground

Zombietale- Frisk is a zombie

Undersail- Frisk is a swimmer

Fantasytale- Frisk is a necromancer

Dancetale- Frisk is a Ballet dancer

Underphase- Frisk is an Otaku

UT storyshift- Frisk is the same, but not the underground

Predatortale- Frisk is in danger

Core!Frisk- Frisk fell into the core and now has ungodly powers

Undernovela- Frisk is spanish

Underkeep- Frisk is slaying 💅💅

Joseontake- Frisk is korean

Dogs of future past- Frisk won't give up on gaster

Archertale- Frisk is an archer

Fairytale- Frisk is red hiding hood

Underlust- Frisk is ace

Mergetale- Frisk and Sans are one

Cattale- Frisk is a cat caretaker

Undernovela- Frisk is running for their life in a monstrous underground

Café Frisk- Frisk is a chef!

Hacker! Frisk - Frisk is a naughty hacker

Pillowtale- Frisk is a plushie

Inverted fate- FRISK IS THE SAME BUT THE WHOLE UNDERGROUND IS DIFFERENT! LOVE THIS AU, LOVE THEM READ IT READ IT READ IT

Undertop - Frisk is a mimic!

Ut- circus- Still a mimic

Stand in- Frans au basically

Angeltale- Frisk dosent have wings as all the other monsters :(

Endertale- Frisk just wants to chill, so come on Chara! >:0

Wondertale- Frisk is Alice in wonderland!

Dreamtale- Frisk is in a coma

Systematic restore-Frisk is a bit early

Oceantale- Frisk is a swimmer

Overtale- Frisk is a monster

DeltaExperiment- Frisk is in Deltarune

Trainertale- Frisk is a pokemon trainer

Poketale- Frisk is a pokemon

Slumbertale - Frisk is in a Dream

Feraltale- Frisk is trying to survive Feral monsters

Feral!Frisk- Frisk is Feral

Detale- Frisk is a bored hacker

Quantumtale- Frisk turned back time!

Charatale- Frisk is in a Chara world

Revolutiontale- Frisk meets the monsters on the surface

Datatale- Frisk has a brother called Data

Chromatale- Frisk is a grown up and discovers a secret

Exiletale- Frisk gains a new power after a fight

Kingdom of Crystal Sky- Frisk is a runaway princess

Moontale- Frisk REALLY wants to kill sans

Undergate- Frisk discovers a mysterious key

Soulwarstale- Frisk is on the land of the dead

Ragnartale- Frisk is a princess tangled with a romance triangle

Songfell- Frisk is a priestess

Lockfell- Frisk is a prisioner

Undercrystal - Frisk makes a wish

Grimmstale- Frisk's story is being told with YOUR help

Heavenfell- Frisk ends up in a violent underground

Reversed context- Frisk is a bitch

Over the void- Frisk wants to uncover secrets

Turmoitale- Frisk is in a turmoil

Tartarosstale- Frisk is being judged

Namelesstale- Frisk can't win against undyne!

Eepytale- Frisk is happy

Summontale- Frisk has to trap de monsters

Spitetale- Frisk is good. Out of spite

Grouptale- Frisk and all the other 6 souls are together

Woundtale- Frisk won't forget sans

#lists #list #unrelated #frisk #frisk undertale #aus from undertale #undertale aus #undertale #undertale au #ut au #ut aus

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totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus · 2 months ago

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Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 13/?

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3

There was no snow on the ground, yet, but Evan’s breath came frosting out in clouds of vapor as he stood in the middle of a field on his coven’s land, hands braced on his knees as he heaved in gulps of air. The remains of a few bales of hay smoldered merrily a few dozen yards away from him, black smoke billowing up into the crystal blue sky. There were still about five bales scattered around him that were untouched, though.

Again, Evan.

The calm, gentle voice echoed around him, accompanied by the surge of electric power that always signaled a familiar casting. The smoldering bales of all hay went up in crackles of white-hot flame, fresh clouds of smoke billowing up and swirling in miniature tornadoes around them. A few seconds later, the smoke scattered as though blown away by a fierce, sudden wind, and when the air had cleared, all of the bales were restored to pristine condition. And now even farther apart than they were before.

“Sally, come on,” he whined. He knew he was whining. He couldn’t help it. He’d been out here since school let out almost three hours ago, he was cold, he was hungry, he was starting to get a headache from so much casting…and he knew that his familiar absolutely was not going to let him go home until he’d performed the exercise exactly how she wanted him to. He turned to look at her anyway, pasting his best puppy-dog eyes—the expression that always worked on Maddie—across his face.

Sally was perched on top of part of an old stone fence, her tail twitching back and forth as she observed the field like a queen surveying her kingdom. Her mangled ear—a battle souvenir she’d earned back before Pennsylvania had ever even been a state—flicked towards him, and even from across the field, Evan could see the amusement on her face. Most of the other kids in the coven thought it was so cool to have such an old and powerful familiar, that it must be amazing to be taught and trained by someone who had so much experience. And sure, yes, it really was. He loved Sally, and was so grateful that she’d chosen to bond with him, especially after going so long without bonding with any other Buckley witch.

But sometimes, being taught and trained by someone with almost three centuries of experience really sucked. He couldn’t get away with anything!

Again, Evan, she said, picking her way over to another moss-covered fencepost and lazily starting to groom her rough, calico coat. You’re still not dispersing your magic properly. You should be able to hit at least three more targets with the same spell.

If it had been either of his parents saying something like that to him, a hot flush of anger and embarrassment would have swept through him. The black cloud of their disappointment (God, Evan can’t you do anything right? How can you mess up something that simple? I don’t know where your father and I went wrong! Don’t you dare embarrass us in front of the coven.) would have pressed down on him like a physical weight, driving all his self-control and concentration right out of his head.

Sally’s criticism never felt like that, though.

Mostly because Sally was never disappointed in him. She was firm, and no-nonsense, and never let him get away with being lazy or taking shortcuts…but he never doubted that she believed in him with all her heart and would never ask him to do something she wasn’t absolutely sure he could do. Her patience with him never ran out, and even in just three short years under her mentoring, his power and control had improved a lot.

The only other person who ever made him feel so loved and supported was Maddie.

So, despite being hungry, and cold, and tired, he pushed himself up straight and walked back to the spot that would give him the best line of sight to all of the haybales. He stretched his arms over his head and shook the tension from his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he started chanting.

This time, all but one of the bales burst into flame.

Excellent! Sally’s voice was filled with pride, and she vanished from the fencepost, reappearing seconds later at his feet. Her slightly ragged tail flicked back and forth as she once again smothered the flames and restored the haybales to pristine condition, this time all stacked together.

Evan looked down at her, hands on his hips. “Really? Again?” he sighed. Sally sat down primly and licked one of her paws.

Last exercise for today, she promised. This time I want you to do it without reaching through your coven bond.

Evan startled at that, looking down at his familiar in surprise. “Isn’t that dangerous?” he asked, like dispersing the strain of casting through a coven bond wasn’t literally one of the first lessons children learned when they started training with their magic. No matter how powerful you were, casting was difficult. It took a ton of energy and focus, and channeling magic—especially into more complex spells or multiple spells at once—could be exhausting. Drawing on your coven bond to alleviate some of the strain was an essential skill. While magic could be cast without the aid of a coven bond, it was like trying to lift something extremely heavy by yourself…the risk of injury was higher, and the longer you did it, the more dangerous it got.

I won’t let anything happen to you, little love, Sally replied calmly, and Evan scoffed.

“I know that,” he said, the idea of his familiar ever letting any harm come to him if she could prevent it so utterly ridiculous as to be a complete non-issue. He knew Sally would always protect him just as surely as he knew Maddie would. “I just—why practice that?” he asked, honestly curious. Sally never did anything without a purpose.

Strangely, Sally seemed to hesitate, looking out over the frosty field and wrapping her tail around her feet. I would see you prepared for any eventuality, she said at length. Even if it’s no longer a customary lesson, or something some might think a waste of time.

Evan knew his familiar well enough by now to know she was talking about his parents. She was always talking about his parents when she got that particular tone in her voice. Sally always played nice in front of other members of their coven or visiting guests, but in private she had never made her dislike for his parents a secret. She was polite—but every time she was in the same room as his mom and dad, the temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees.

Truthfully, if Sally hadn’t been such an old and respected familiar, if she hadn’t held the status she did in their coven and in Pennsylvania witch society in general, he doubted his parents would have let her bond with him when she approached them about it. There had been no way for them to turn her down without it raising a lot of questions, though…and if there was one thing Phillip and Margaret Buckley hated, it was questions.

Still, Sally wasn’t wrong that a lot of her lessons and teaching methods were…old-fashioned. Maddie usually explained it as Sally just having lived most of her life as a coven familiar in times where conflicts—not even just with vampires, witch covens had once been a lot more volatile than they tended to be now—were a lot more common. Sometimes, though—sometimes Evan couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Sally was making her decisions about what and how to teach him based on something she was expecting. He had no real reason to think that way. It was just a feeling.

Perhaps sensing his distraction, Sally nudged his shin with her head, purring softly when he knelt down and scratched behind her mangled ear. You’ll wield tremendous power when you come fully into it, little love. You’re already stronger than many of my witches ever were. If your parents were wiser, they would be grooming you for coven leadership someday. Perhaps even a place on a high coven.

Evan snorted, even as a warm glow of happiness at her words curled through his chest. “We both know they’d never want me to be a coven leader. They hate my magic. They hate how I got it.”

Sally growled, low in her throat. They hate that it was given to you, and their part in how it was given at all. That they take their self-blame out on you is a shame they will have to reckon with someday. She batted at his cheek with one paw. You are blameless, Evan Buckley. You will be my finest witch. My last witch. Were it not for you, I would have left this coven when your parents…made the choices they did. You are precious to me and your sister, little love. And someday you will be precious to others. I would thank you to remember that.

He blinked hard, turning his face away and pretending to look over to the stack of haybales. Sally allowed him to, leaping up onto his shoulder as he stood slowly and draping herself over the back of his neck.

Now. Again, Evan, she ordered.

Evan took a few stumbling steps backward, almost tripping over the body of Jon—Greenway, Greenway, Greenway…he’d try to sell Evan out to vampires, damn it, he was directly responsible for this whole shitshow—Greenway’s familiar. The three vampires stepped fully out of the temp agency’s offices, and Evan’s heart dropped as another two appeared in the doorway. Five. Five vampires, their auras all roiling with the power that could only have come from drinking witch blood. Of their own volition, his eyes flicked to Greenway’s corpse, swallowing hard at the way the creatures stalking out of the offices and spreading out in the hallways had savaged him.

Kinard shifted, planting himself firmly in front of Evan, his movements shifting into the easy liquidity of a predator. The lead vampire—a massive blond man who looked like he’d fit right in as a bouncer or a bodyguard—looked Kinard up and down before zeroing back in on Evan. His companions weren’t nearly as physically intimidating, but Evan knew that didn’t mean anything. Evan was not a weak man in any measure of the word, but Kinard’s coven mate Lucy could have snapped him in half without any effort.

“Kinard,” blondie growled, his gaze never leaving Evan for an instant. “So you’re the reason our little present made it out of Gerrard’s party. Didn’t have that on the Bingo card, gotta say.”

Kinard tilted his head. “Do I know you?” he asked, his voice flat and cold, so different from the way he’d been speaking to Evan all day it was a little jarring.

Blondie finally looked away from Evan, smirking at Kinard. “Not personally. But don’t pretend the little traitor here didn’t give you the rundown.” He rolled his neck from side to side, scarlet light slowly starting to gleam in his eyes as his fangs dropped to visibility. He looked down at Greenway’s body, kicking it lightly. “Never tasted witch blood before…I’ve been missing out.” He narrowed his eyes at Kinard, his smirk turning a little more vicious. “Decide you’d rather keep him for yourself?”

“If you know who I am, then you know this isn’t going to go well for you, witch blood or no,” Kinard said, ignoring the vampire’s odd remarks. Why was he talking like Kinard knew what was going on here?

To Evan’s surprise, a couple of the other vampires glanced at each other uneasily. Logically, he knew that Kinard’s age granted him a lot of power…but he hadn’t realized it would be so much that a vampire might be worried about taking him on five to two. Especially as they’d all drunk witch blood as well.

“No reason this has to get violent,” Blondie said, though he very much sounded like he wanted it to get violent. “You walk out right now, we can all pretend we never saw each other.”

Kinard rocked back on his heels a little. “Generous. All right, kid, let’s go,” Kinard said, jerking his head toward the stairwell and holding out his arm back toward Evan like he expected Evan to tuck himself up under it.

Blondie chuckled mirthlessly. “Cute. Last chance, Kinard. Walk away. Leave the witch to us. I can’t say I blame you for trying to muscle in on the games, here…everyone knows your coven is strays and fresh turns. But you lost the gamble. Leave.”

A low, menacing growl reverberated through the hall. To his shock, Evan realized it was coming from Kinard. “Not. Happening.” The deadpan humor of a few seconds ago was completely gone, and Evan didn’t have to look to know Kinard’s eyes were glowing just as scarlet as the other vampire’s.

He bit his lip and murmured a spell, his power spiraling outwards and swirling around him. A circle of white light emblazoned itself on the floor, surrounding him totally. It was a risk splitting his focus on a barrier spell if he was going to be doing anything else—and trying to engage in combat magic without a coven bond was going to hurt no matter how quickly the fight went (and this was going to be a fight, there was no mistaking that). If he was going to risk using the kind of power it would take to help Kinard against five vampires, the smartest course of action would be to take the hit to fire off a transport spell and leave Kinard to deal with this mess.

He just…couldn’t bring himself to do it.

It was stupid, it was irrational…this was his chance to escape, damn it.

But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave Kinard alone to deal with these things. So, he braced himself, firming up the barrier that would hopefully keep any of the vampires that got close to him at bay long enough for him to cast against them. He sent a silent thanks winging to Sally—wherever she was. She’d only been trying to teach him the kind of focus he’d need to wield the amount of magic he had when she had him practice casting without relying on his coven bond…but she was the only reason he was still able to cast the kind of spells he could without ending up a heap on the ground.

“Bad choice, Kinard,” Blondie said. “Very bad choice.”

Evan knew vampires were fast. He knew they were very fast. He’d seen it firsthand a couple of times since Kinard had taken him out of that mansion.

Kinard and Blondie seemed to fucking teleport toward each other. One second Kinard was standing right in front of him, and the next he was a dozen feet away, leaping at Blondie with a snarl that sounded more animal than human. They crashed into each other, and Kinard twisted in midair to get one arm around Blondie’s throat so that when they landed, he was able to fling Blondie like a goddamn battering ram at the other vampires. Three of them went down in a heap, skidding back over the hallway floor until they nearly hit the stairwell door.

Kinard glanced over his shoulder at Evan, as though checking to make sure he was still there, and then raced forward towards the two remaining vampires. Only one of them accepted the challenge, springing at Kinard with fangs bared.

It did not end well for him.

Evan nearly lost the concentration of the barrier, staring in horrified shock as Kinard’s hands closed around the other vampire’s neck. As he slammed into the other vampire’s body hard enough to take them both to the floor. As he made a wrenching motion with one arm and a fountain of blood erupted around him. Kinard casually tossed something the size of a basketball aside and oh God, oh God, oh God Evan couldn’t look. Didn’t want to look. Kinard rose from the still-twitching body of the vampire and took a few steps back, repositioning himself in between the remaining four and Evan.

Mere seconds had passed.

“Sure you still want to do this?” Kinard growled.

Blondie and the remaining vampires rose, a new, animalistic wariness in their movements. Evan watched them fan out like a pack of wolves about to attack and shook his head, forcing his shock at the sheer brutality he’d just witnessed aside. Another spell, and a ball of flickering fire erupted in each hand. For just a moment, he felt like he was standing in a frostbitten field again, Sally’s soothing voice in his head—Again, Evan—as he stared down an array of targets.

Blondie dove at Kinard again, two of the other vampires flanking him…but the fourth darted around them and made a beeline straight for Evan. He heard Kinard shout, saw the vampire lunge for the one that was barreling toward him, only to be dogpiled by Blondie and his flunkies. Evan braced himself, breathed, and flicked his hand forward, the spellword falling from his lips in a sigh. The fireball leapt from his fingertips, zinging through his barrier and straight towards the attacking vampire with the surety of a guided missile.

The look of shock on the thing’s face as his spell slammed home, fire and smoke racing over the vampire’s body like he was made of kindling, was very satisfying. The vampire screamed, clawing at his clothes and hair as ghostly white flames enveloped him, reducing the thing to ashes almost as quickly as Kinard had dispatched its friend.

Two down, three to go.

Kinard had gone down in a tangle on the floor with all three of the attacking vampires, fighting like a maddened bear. Evan searched frantically for an opening, somewhere he could aim and burn Blondie or one of his henchmen, but he couldn’t do it without hitting Kinard. His stomach twisted at the thought of the vampire erupting into ash, dying at his hand, and reluctantly he let the fire spell dissipate. Sweat started to bead on his brow, his heart starting to pound as he summoned another spell, holding it, holding it, holding it…

One of Blondie’s flunkies reared up, his fist pulled back as though he were going to drive it down into Kinard’s back, and Evan struck. He screamed the spellword, and an invisible force slammed into the vampire, sending him flying back to crash against the stairwell door and land on the floor in a heap. Evan summoned the fire again, his head swooping a little at the rapid shift between spells, at the effort it was taking to keep the barrier up, He didn’t dare drop it, though. The fireball erupted from his hands, striking home and the hallway once again echoed with pain-filled shrieks that abruptly cut off.

“Get the fucking witch!” Blondie screamed, getting his hands around Kinard’s throat and slamming him down onto the floor, straddling him to hold him down as his last remaining crony scrambled up.

Kinard twisted underneath Blondie, managing to get his legs up and kicking straight out. There was a sickening crack of bone as Blondie went flying back, and Kinard lunged to his feet, catching the charging vampire by the back of his shirt just before he crashed into Evan’s barrier. Despite himself, Evan stumbled back a step, losing his concentration on the fire and having to summon the flames a third time. His head was pounding now, sweat dripping down his face…God, he was not looking forward to the headache this was going to leave him with.

But he needed to live long enough to have to deal with the aftereffects of this.

Kinard whirled around, still holding the vampire and flung him towards Blondie with another animalistic roar. He looked over his shoulder again, his scarlet eyes finding Evan’s, and Evan grit his teeth, giving him a shaky nod of reassurance.

Blondie and his lone remaining companion climbed slowly to their feet, fangs bared, faces twisted with rage. Suddenly, though, Blondie cocked his head as though he heard something. Kinard whipped towards the bank of elevators and tensed, crouching like he was getting ready to spring again. Blondie chuckled, a sick sort of smile spreading on his face.

“Whoops. Should’ve taken my offer, brother.” Then he slammed the stairwell door open, and he and his companion vanished, taking a running leap straight over the railing and disappearing from view.

The elevator chime sounded, the doors sliding open to reveal a new group of people. Four this time, but Evan’s breath caught in his throat. All of them were witches. All of them in military-style jackets with the sigil of the SoCal high coven emblazoned on the shoulder. The one in the lead—an older Hispanic woman—reeled back in surprise, her mouth falling open as her eyes landed on the body of Greenway’s familiar, then snapped to Kinard.

“Kill it!” she shouted, throwing out a hand towards Kinard.

Evan was already dizzy and drained with the amount of magic he’d just used, the strain of casting so many spells so quickly grating over his nerves. Even so, he knew better than most what a high coven cleaner crew looked like. And just how uninterested they usually were in talking. He acted on instinct.

The barrier dropped and he lunged toward Kinard, grabbing the vampire’s hand tightly and screaming the only spell he could think of to save them both.

His magic erupted around them in a swirling orb of white light, and he had no time to aim it, no time to structure the spell and give it direction. He cried out the transport spell and the only thought in his head was: safe. Safe, safe, safe, safe.

The temp agency’s offices dissolved in a shimmer of light and a sensation he hadn’t felt in years enveloped him. He was falling, falling, failing, tumbling head over heels and the only solid thing, the only anchor he had was the feel of Kinard’s hand in his. His stomach dropped, his head swimming with the energy a transport spell took.

The spell dropped them with a thud, the white light fading and leaving sunspots dancing in Evan’s eyes. Or maybe it was just the dizziness from the strain of casting. He blinked hazily, a confused sort of shock running through him like an electric current when he realized he had transported them back to Kinard’s loft. They were standing in the middle of Kinard’s living room. What…

“Holy shit,” Kinard breathed, turning to look at Evan with wide eyes that had shifted back to their usual dark blue. They widened even further, and suddenly Kinard was standing right in front of him. “Evan? Fuck, are you all right?” he demanded.

Dimly, he realized it wasn’t sweat that was dripping from his nose and running down over his lips and chin. Shit. He’d overdone it. He’d overdone it bad. The floor seemed to be tilting under his feet and without thinking he reached up and steadied himself against Kinard’s chest.

“Evan? Talk to me,” Kinard continued urgently, and yeah…yeah, he really should say something. Or at least take a step back from the vampire—especially with his nose bleeding like a damn faucet.

He went to do that, and his knees folded underneath him entirely without his permission.

#911 abc #evan buckley #911 tv show #evan buck buckley #mywriting #buck x tommy #tommy kinard #shameless self promotion #bucktommy #tevan #tevan fic #kinley #firebeast #bucktommy fanfic #firepilot

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cloudcastor · 1 year ago

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Alright everyone AU down below!!!

I’ve been tentatively calling it “Destiny Islands AU”

On the surface, it’s a slice of life AU.In the general context of kingdom hearts, they never left the islands, Sora is just a regular school boy and all he’s worried about is what’s he gonna do once he graduates and how he’ll keep his childhood friends post-high school.

But underneath that, this is a post KH3 AU. Sora is stuck in a (wow! so original!) simulation a lá KH2. We get the “bad” and “true” end post Yozora fight, however, this AU follows the belief that the bad ending still happens. This is while Sora is asleep and in his crystal state. Using his powers, Yozora creates this as a way to keep Sora busy and ensure he doesn’t wake up any time soon to spoil any plans.

Sora’s connection to the Real World is through Riku, who has the power to reach out to him via Dreams, however, this starts to cause discrepancies. There is a “Dream” Riku and a “Real” Riku that unintentionally swap places. As Sora’s real memories start to come through, there’s hiccups in the simulation as well. Sometimes he’ll remember an experience that he knows he didn’t go through, he’ll see a ship in the sky where he once saw a boat, and sometimes people don’t remember…..Riku.

As these memories continue to surface, Sora constantly finds himself wondering what’s a dream and what’s reality.

As an aside, there’s a bit of added lore to the islands that goes as follows. The motto is Destiny Islands: of Fate, Fortune & Future.

This is thematically relevant:

FATE (memories): Play island; Where things are predestined to happen

FORTUNE(simulation): Main Island; prosperity from land, community, and tradition

FUTURE (reality): Big Island; Where those go who want change

How does this relate to Sora?

The Play Island is where the discrepancies start, and it’s where Riku first shows up. It’s a place that isn’t tied down to whatever rules the rest of the simulation is running on. A bit of a limbo if you will. This is where Sora starts to regain his true sense of self.

The Main Island is the simulation at large. It has the town, his family's shop, the school and the grocer. It’s as close to normalcy as you would imagine. If Riku hadn’t shown up Sora would probably still be stuck in the routine of it all…

The “Big Island” exists as more of a vague threat. Sora doesn’t realize that “Riku graduating and leaving the main island” means “Riku is somewhere where I'm not” to him. At least not yet. It’s also his feelings manifesting of Riku having left the islands already, except this time he has no way to follow.

Okay but where is the soriku?

It’s the Vibes™

My initial thoughts are that this is a place that’s familiar to Sora, but since it’s a world without “conflict”, it leaves him bored and reflective. Life has only ever been this hometown. Even before Riku shows up, Sora is slowly unlocking thoughts and emotions he hasn’t had the time to sit and think about for quite some time. We know he has feelings of sadness, anger, and hopelessness. Without the constant threat of the worlds falling to darkness, or friends being in danger, how would he deal with these emotions without the context. I’m sure it has him feeling confused and at a bit of a loss. The desperation starts to kick in as he imagines this dull life without Riku, he’ll do anything so he won’t get left behind(….again). It starts to break the simulation even more.

On Riku’s end… he has no idea what’s going on! Seeing Sora constantly “Dream” about the islands makes him feel guilty that he isn’t searching hard enough or that he’s not bringing him home fast enough. He truly believes Sora wants to “return home” and since he never sees himself in this simulation (because he takes his own spot) he believes it to be a home where he doesn't belong. A home he’s not welcome to return to.

However, that doesn’t stop him from at least trying to get Sora back. It’s the least he could do after all. He tells himself it’s strictly his responsibility and nothing more.

Buuuuut….. As they catch themselves meeting up from time to time, lines begin to blur. Sora thinks Real Riku is actually Dream Riku. Riku thinks Sora is simply stuck in a dream world cycle and unaware of what he’s doing. They let themselves be more honest, not knowing they are talking with each other and idk maybe they get to kiss as a treat…

The rest is a bit more of a secret since I might do something with this in the future (looks at my hands….i wanna make a comic. so bad…) but for now that’s the gist of it!

Thanks for lookin :-)

#kh au #destiny islands au #soriku #annnnd that’s it i’m not putting it in the main tag lol

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the-writing-mobster · 2 years ago

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Watch out for these NEW AUS!!! Zombies, Serial Killers, and High Fantasy — OH MY!

#:)#tmdg #kotcs #tdd #new aus #undertale #you know what these all have in common?#they're all CLASSIC aligned #JUMPING OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE LESSGOOOOO #fanfic #fic announcements #kingdom of the crystal sky #the most dangerous game #the determined dead #frans #frisk x sans #sans x frisk

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cjhern1109 · 2 years ago

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My brain can’t respond that KOTCS Sans is 7 FT 😵‍💫

Like my thought process is that KOTCS Frisk must be climbing that man like a squirrel on a tree Even if that tree doesn’t grow nuts

Also jelly bone bois 💀

And sorry that I didn’t digitalize this one, but the next KOTCS fanart will be

KOTCS AU Creator: @moonrosebunnie

#frans #sans x frisk #fransart #undertale frans #echotale frans #frisk x sans #frans au #my art #fanart #kingdom of the crystal sky

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rjthirsty · 4 months ago

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Deceit and Decay

What if Belle didn't fall in love with the Conqueror Beast? What if his last hope abandoned him simply because she didn't know he existed? Would his black heart break and crack or grow as hard as stone?

An AU where Chevalier is crowned for Rhodolite, Gilbert lost his last shred of humanity, and MC (Dahlia) is thrust into a nightmare world where deceit and decay are everyday occurrences.

CW: Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Explicit Sexual Content. Full list on ao3.

Chapter One

Rating: T

Word count: 3,391

Chandeliers sparkled from dozens of candles, their flames dancing along the crystal, reflecting and refracting the light to create a ballroom of stars for the nobility invited to King Chevalier’s coronation. The ceremony had concluded earlier, and now foreign nations and the highest members of Rhodolite society mingled throughout the brilliant ballroom. Every person was dressed in dazzling finery, with women sparkling just as brightly as the chandeliers from gold and silver embroidery on their dresses, and men decorated with medals and accessories that told of their achievements to their kingdoms.

No matter how many times Dahlia saw the nobility dressed to the nines, she always found them captivating in their clothes that cost more than her home had when she was a commoner working at a bookstore. Now a minister of the court in training, her clothing was also of a higher quality than she used to own, but still rather modest compared to the guests in attendance today. She had to keep her station in mind and dress appropriately.

Nearly a year ago, she had come to the palace as the new Belle, and after a month of learning about the kingdom and the princes, she had chosen Chevalier to become the next to sit on the throne. It took some time before it was announced that the former king had passed, and then more time to name Chevalier as the successor to the public and surrounding kingdoms. There were reasons for the delay, but none of that mattered now that he was formally recognized as the ruler of Rhodolite.

Locating Chevalier was always easy in these situations due to his chilly and impersonal interactions with others. Today, however, instead of most people keeping their distance from Chev and his cold aura, more people than one could easily count were grouped around him, making introductions, offering their congratulations and respect, and some were already leveling talk of new reforms or future marriage proposals.

Dahlia did her best to bite down a smirk. She knew Chevalier very well and could see how tiresome he was finding all the interactions, but he was doing his best as a leader for the country and she considered praising him later for that. It warmed her heart how much he had changed over the last year. Most wouldn’t see a difference, but she did, and his brothers did as well. She counted herself lucky to have been able to witness the change in him - Sariel offering her a position to be a court minister was not originally part of the Belle process.

The celebration had begun shortly before dusk, with the ballroom dyed in shades of oranges, reds, and pinks just like the roses of their kingdom. The ballroom’s large windows faced the west in order to achieve the effect, and Dahlia had to appreciate the architecture and symbolism that went into constructing the palace for something she would have never considered before coming here. As the sky dims, and darkness threatens to penetrate the festivities, that’s when the chandeliers shine their brightest and mimic the night sky full of stars and wonder.

Another party attendee entered the room, announced by name and title by the attendant managing the door. The lower lord went largely unnoticed by the rest of the party goers, who mixed and mingled and drank, having polite conversations and politely laughing when appropriate. There were so many rules Dahlia had learned in her time at the palace, and her time in training to be part of the court.

“Don’t you think you’re staring a little too intently at King Highness?” A voice purred in her ear. Dahlia smiled and breathed in Nokto’s seductive scent, turning her gaze on him as he slipped an arm around her waist.

“I think I’m staring an appropriate amount for a minister in training who is proud of their King.” Her eyes moved from Nokto’s cherry colored irises to his lovely lips pulled into his signature smirk.

“Hmm? Not at all like a lover gathering intel on those who he might wed?”

He was toying with her. Teasing as he tended to do.

“Are you feeling a little jealous and perhaps projecting?” Dahlia grinned at her own quip.

Nokto laughed. “Not in the slightest. I’m enjoying my life, and enjoying you as well.”

Nokto casually slipped his hand down Dahlia’s waist to her rear and gave it a firm squeeze. Subtly, Dahlia leaned closer to Nokto, giving him as much attention as she dared in front of a room full of nobility who were aware of her status.

“I think that’s enough of that, Prince Nokto. I’m sure there are plenty of ladies here who would fight tooth and nail to have some of your attention. I’m not in need of company.”

Dahlia’s eyes met Nokto’s, and for a moment the two of them simply stared at each other. Nokto watched Dahlia to determine if she really was doing as well as she claimed, and Dahlia holding fast to her resolve to show him a wife for King Chevalier would not break her.

“It wouldn’t be an issue if you visited me before the guests leave. I’m just a philandering prince, no one will care that we’re lovers.” Nokto murmured before taking a step away from Dahlia, letting his fingers drag along her waist as they fell from her form.

“Thank you, Prince Nokto. I’ll keep that in mind.” She curtsied with a bow to her head.

Nokto departed, swarmed almost immediately by others who gave Dahlia a few sharp glares. She was used to that, at least. She had shown up at the palace and been granted access to every location under the guise of being a minister in training, though at the time she was Belle, a commoner with a pure heart who was to choose the next king. She had yet to be elevated into society, needing the king to bestow her a title befitting that of a court minister. That day wasn’t far away now, but being in the palace for nearly a year, and the not so secret mistress of more than a few of the princes didn’t earn her any kindness from the noble class.

“Announcing Prince Gilbert von Obsidian, First Prince of Obsidian.”

A hush overtook those standing nearer to the door and Dahlia glanced over to see the worldwide disaster himself, head to toe in black, pleasant smile on his lips and a dangerous glint in his blood-red eye. Black boots thudded on the rose-quartz tile. Black cane thunked with every sure step he took. Gilbert’s presence sent other attendees politely moving away from his location as if he carried a fog of fear around him wherever he went.

Dahlia couldn’t blame the rest of the guests, Prince Gilbert was a symbol of death and destruction. Obsidian had invaded once before, ten years ago, a day known now as Bloodstained Rose Day. It was a tragic part of Rhodolite’s recent past, and had devastated more than one settlement near the border. Dahlia didn’t understand when it had happened, living in the capital had her far from the danger, but she was aware of the consequences and the effects that invasion had on the populace and politics now.

Seemingly unphased by the cold reception, Prince Gilbert moved through the room. Not a single person spoke to him, though he had plenty of eyes on him. Dahlia had also been instructed not to speak with him unless absolutely necessary. Sariel was adamant about her avoiding interacting with him. From the way he spoke of Prince Gilbert, she had thought of him like some sort of vicious villain out of a novel. It was surprising to her on first meeting that he was quite good looking and congenial. He spoke politely and never dropped his smile.

He reminded her of Clavis. Clavis hid behind his smile. No matter if he was scared, nervous, angry, or otherwise, he put a smile on and presented that to the rest of the world. Sometimes Clavis even wore his smile with her, but she had learned to tell his real smile and his mask apart. There was more to Prince Gilbert than his smile, though. It didn’t matter how handsome he was, or how polite he spoke, Dahlia could feel the darkness that clung to him. Like the black that he wore, he was shrouded in something that caused her heart to beat quicker with fear.

As Prince Gilbert sliced through the crowd, Dahlia realized the empty space around him was headed directly towards her. She quickly glanced around attempting to locate Sariel - he was no doubt busy handling foreign guests and nobles alike. Under King Chevalier, Sariel held the most power in the palace, though most wouldn’t know it unless they resided here and interacted with the princes like she had. Unable to find the black hair of her mentor who stood taller than most, she spotted Jin making his way through the party in her direction. Luckily, Jin was also taller than most and easy to notice.

Hastily, Dahlia headed for Jin, discomfort growing in her chest. Too late, she realized why her heart had begun to beat erratically. Too late, she realized the discomfort she felt was tendrils of fear attempting to root her to the spot. A shadow of malice and smiles stepped in front of her, blocking her path, his red eye trained on her.

“Where are you running off to, Little Rabbit?”

Prince Gilbert somehow had cleared the distance much faster than any normal person should have. He stood between her and Jin. He stood between her and the rest of the party. With every person giving him a wide berth, Prince Gilbert was the only one within at least 15 feet. She felt cornered. She felt like prey that had been separated from the safety of the group.

Dahlia clenched her hands in her skirts, attempting to hide that they were trembling - she wasn’t even sure why they were. Offering a slight bow of her head and a curtsey, she put on her best smile and met his gaze. “Good evening, Prince Gilbert. If you are looking for an attendant, allow me to find someone to assist you.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Prince Gilbert smiled a little wider.

“It won’t be?” Dahlia looked confused. Surely there was a reason he had approached her.

“You see, I’ve already found who I was looking for.”

Dahlia quickly glanced around, it was just the two of them, so there was no one else he could be referring to besides– “Me?”

“Ahaha,” Gilbert laughed. His laugh was youthful and bubbly, and felt completely out of place with the way his presence made her feel. “You look surprised, Little Rabbit.”

“I am.” Dahlia admitted, her eyebrows knitting together for a moment before she remembered to try to be pleasant with him. “Did you perhaps need something for your stay? I can speak with my mentor about tending to you.”

“There is something you could help me with. I seem to continually misplace my guide. Perhaps if you’d escort me around the palace, I could get a better idea of the layout of the place.”

For some reason, this felt like a trap. Dahlia couldn’t explain it, but everything was lining up too easily. She had never spoken to Prince Gilbert before, and only saw him when he was welcomed as a guest to the palace. Why he’d single her out and be showing such an interest didn’t sit right with her. Maybe he mistook her for one of the palace servants? He was being so friendly as well, the request was just that - a request. He didn’t demand her escort him, but the way he asked it seemed like he didn’t really give her a choice to say no.

“Hey, Dahlia, there you are.” Jin’s deep voice cut through Dahlia’s thoughts and she tore her eyes away from Gilbert to see Jin smiling down at her.

“Prince Jin.” She responded in greeting. “This is Prince Gilbert.” She hadn’t forgotten that it was an expected formality for her to introduce the princes to any guests, even if they were aware of who they were.

Jin took a spot slightly in front of Dahlia, almost like he was attempting to shield her from Gilbert, but couldn’t be obvious about it. He looked down on Gilbert, who was several inches shorter than the Rhodolite prince. His smile that he had offered Dahlia fell away, and he practically grunted a non-committal noise to acknowledge the Obsidian prince.

“Haha. You’re so cold. And after I came all the way here to offer congratulations to your newly crowned king. The least you could do is offer a bit of hospitality and proper greetings.” Nothing had changed with the way Gilbert stood, nor his tone or even his smile, but Dahlia suddenly felt even more uneasy than when she imagined being cornered by Gilbert.

“Yeah, evening. Glad you could make it. King Chevalier is over that way.” Jin fired off the expected pleasantries in a monotone that said he was doing the bare minimum and no more for the foreign prince. He nodded towards Chev, who hadn’t moved since the ball started.

Dahlia subtly shifted her foot silently along the tile to inch a bit further behind Jin. She didn’t want to make it seem like she was hiding from Prince Gilbert, but the aura he gave off felt like he was angry– no, it was more than that. It was like silent rage, and it started when Jin arrived.

Gilbert’s red eye slid in her direction and she froze, the tendrils of fear she had felt earlier wrapped fully around her lungs and it felt impossible for her to be able to draw in breath. Her hands began to tremble again, still held in her skirts from where she had hid them earlier.

“Dahlia, Sariel needed something from the ministerial office. Said you were the one to talk to about it. Mind letting me borrow you for a few?”

“Huh?” Dahlia all but squeaked, Jin’s words echoing in her head like she had heard them on the other side of a cave. She looked up at Jin, trying to make heads or tails out of what he had said. Suddenly she was able to draw breath again. Suddenly everything came back into focus. “Oh! Of course, Prince Jin. I’ll get right on that.”

With her hands balled into fists, Dahlia curtsied again to the Obsidian prince, keeping her eyes downcast. “If you’d excuse me, Prince Gilbert.”

“I’ll see you again, Little Rabbit.” Gilbert left those parting words and strode further into the room. The crowd continued to split and filter away from him as he moved.

His boots thudded sure-footedly against the tile, though he seemed aimless in his direction. His cane gave a precise thunk that felt like there was a heavy finality in the sound. Dahlia watched him move away, and finally the fear that had gripped her slithered away, following him like a shadow.

Jin set a large hand on her shoulder, gently aiming her towards the door to the ballroom. “About that thing Sariel needed.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dahlia agreed and the two of them exited the ballroom.

The sounds of the music and chatter faded quickly as Jin and Dahlia moved through the familiar hallways towards the ministerial offices, far removed from the social areas and guest quarters. Several nobles from the outer edges of Rhodolite were staying in the palace, and all foreign guests were granted rooms fitting their station for the occasion. The hour was still early in the evening, and the castle staff was bustling about, but in this section of the castle there weren’t many attendants around.

“It won’t be long, now, will it?” Jin mused out loud.

Dahlia looked up in his direction, curiosity pulling her thoughts away from the strange and frightening encounter she had just had with the First Prince of Obsidian. “Until what?”

“Until Chev gives you a title, and you can be a real court minister. Sariel tells me you’re a quick learner and I know you’re diligent with how many times I’ve seen you studying on your own.”

“You’re watching me while I’m studying?” Dahlia smirked amusedly. That was exactly the thing he was looking for from her, a real smile. He had worried that Gilbert had said or done something to bother her before he arrived to wrest her away from him. He didn’t trust the guy at all.

“Only when you’re doing it past adult hours. You should be living rather than working, trust me on that as an older man.” Jin puffed up his chest like he was proud of the years he had on her.

“Jin, when have you ever thought of yourself as an old man?”

“Never. But I call myself one when it suits me. And I have a lot of experience in enjoying life.” He offered a bright grin.

“Mhm. I see. So, according to my wiser, experienced, older lover, I should forego improving myself as quickly as possible so I can trawl the breweries and taverns with him to experience living between the legs of another person. Do I have that right?”

“Nope. Between the breasts of another person. But I suppose preferences are preferences, and you have a nice set of your own so you don’t need another woman to cuddle up to for that.”

The quiet hallway filled with Dahlia’s laughter. Jin chuckled along with her.

“Thank you for that, Jin, but I am very satisfied with the people in my life at the moment.”

“Yeah, well…” Jin trailed off as they came to the door of the ministerial offices. It wasn’t like him to not finish a thought and Dahlia quirked her head to the side as she looked up at him. An unhappy expression briefly crossed his face, his eyebrows drawn together and a slight frown at the corners of his mouth, but just as she opened her own to ask him about it, Jin spoke. “You know, I’ve forgotten just what it was that Sariel said he needed.”

Dahlia gave him a blank stare. “You’re not serious.”

Jin gave a shrug and reached into his pocket, pulling out a lollipop. “Very serious,” he said as he stuck the candy in his mouth.

With a sigh, Dahlia turned back towards the way they came. “I’ll just go ask him myself.”

“Naw, don’t do that.” Jin side stepped to put himself just slightly in front of her, not actually blocking her path, but showing he wanted her to stay for a moment. “If it’s that important, he’ll send someone else.”

Dahlia looked down the long corridor in front of her, then narrowed her eyes at Jin. “You’re suggesting we don’t return to the party.”

“Got it in one.” He pulled the sugar candy from his mouth and brought it close to her own lips. “How about we ditch the stuffy affair and go do some living.”

Her eyes moved from the sucker to Jin as she contemplated the choice. She wasn’t really needed at the party, and King Chevalier would be busy into the night, and then likely for a few days afterwards as guests slowly trickled out of the palace. She couldn’t entirely help Sariel tonight with anything, being still a trainee, her place wasn’t speaking to the nobility. It was probably better for her - safer for her - to not return since it was clear that Prince Gilbert was in attendance.

Delicately, her lips parted and tongue gingerly traced the side of the lollipop. Dahlia watched Jin as she licked his candy, deliberately drawing it out to see the slow smile that crawled on his lips. “Mmm. My room?”

Jin slipped the sucker back into his mouth. “You’re so damn cute.”

With a quick step and a bend, Jin snatched Dahlia up into his arms. Her laughter once again rang through the otherwise silent hallway as she reveled in the joy of the moment. Jin carried her towards her room, knowing the way by heart, and Dahlia giggled and kicked her feet, planting kisses along Jin’s neck and jaw, knowing how it would work him up before they got to their destination.

#rjthirsty fanfic #rjthirsty deceit and decay #ikemen prince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian #chevalier michel #fanfic #jin grandet #ikepri au #repost from ao3 #rjthirsty on ao3 #bad end gilbert

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