#Masquerade Ball Chorus Battle

[cielrouge]

YA SFF Books by Black Authors 

A Song Below Water by Bethany C. Morrow: About the strength of black sisterhood set in Portland, OR, best friends Tavi and Effie discover their true supernatural identity when Effie starts being haunted by demons from her past, and Tavia accidentally lets out her magical siren voice during a police stop.

A Chorus Rises (A Song Below Water #2) by Bethany C. Morrow: Teen influencer Naema Bradshaw is an Eloko, a person who’s gifted with a song that woos anyone who hears it. Everyone loves her — well, until she's cast as the awful person who exposed Tavia’s secret siren powers. When a new, flourishing segment of Naema’s online supporters start targeting black girls, however, Naema must discover the true purpose of her magical voice.

A Song of Wraiths and Ruin by Roseanne A. Brown: Inspired by West African folklore in which a grieving crown princess, Karina, and a desperate refugee, Malik, find themselves on a collision course to murder each other, despite their growing attraction.

Akata Witch by Nnedi Okorafor: Sunny Nwazue, an American-born albino child of Nigerian parents, moves with her family back to Nigeria, where she learns that she has latent magical powers which she and three similarly gifted friends use to catch a serial killer.

Akata Warrior (Akata Witch #2) by Nnedi Okorafor: Now stronger, feistier, and a bit older, Sunny Nwazue, along with her friends from the the Leopard Society, travel through worlds, both visible and invisible, to the mysterious town of Osisi, where they fight in a climactic battle to save humanity.

Bad Witch Burning by Jessica Lewis: For fans of Us and The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina comes a witchy story full of black girl magic as one girl’s dark ability to summon the dead offers her a chance at a new life, while revealing to her an even darker future.

Beasts Made of Night by Tochi Onyebuchi: After he eats the sin of a royal, Taj, a talented aki, or sin-eater who consumes the guilt of others whose transgressions are exorcised from them by powerful but corrupt Mages, is drawn into a plot to destroy the city, and he must fight to save the princess he loves and his own life.

Beasts of Prey by Ayana Gray: Two Black teenagers, talented Beastkeeper Koffi and warrior-in-training Ekon, must trek into a magical jungle to take down an ancient creature menacing the city of Lkossa, before they become the hunted.

The Belles by Dhonielle Clayton: In the opulent world of Orléans, where Beauty is a commodity only a few control, Belle Camellia Beauregard will learn the dark secrets behind her powers, and rise up to change the world. 

A Blade So Black by L.L. McKinney: A whimsical and butt-kicking Alice in Wonderland retelling featuring a black teen heroine who battles Nightmares in the dark and terrifying dream realm known as Wonderland. 

Bleeding Violet by Dia Reeves: 16-year-old Hanna reunites with her estranged mother in an East Texas town that is haunted with doors to dimensions of the dead and protected by demon hunters called Mortmaine.

Blood Like Magic by Liselle Sambury: Set in near-future Toronto in which, after failing to come into her powers, 16-year-old Black witch Voya Thomas must choose between losing her family’s magic forever or murdering her first love.

The Bones of Ruin by Sarah Raughley: Set in Victorian England, African tightrope walker Iris cannot die; but soon gets drafted in the fight-to-the-death tournament of freaks where she learns the terrible truth of who and what she really is.

The Cost of Knowing by Brittney Morris: A gripping, evocative novel about Black teen Alex Rufus, who has the power to see into the future, and whose life turns upside down when he foresees his younger brother’s imminent death.

Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi: 17-year-old Zélie and companions journey to a mythic island seeking a chance to bring back magic to the land of Orïsha, in a fantasy world infused with the textures of West Africa.

Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2) by Tomi Adeyemi: After battling the impossible, Zélie and Amari have finally succeeded in bringing magic back to the land of Orïsha. But with civil war looming on the horizon, Zélie finds herself at a breaking point: she must discover a way to bring the kingdom together or watch as Orïsha tears itself apart.

Cinderella Is Dead by Kalynn Bayron: 16-year-old Sophia would much rather marry Erin, her childhood best friend, than parade in front of suitors. At the ball, Sophia flees, hiding in Cinderella’s mausoleum. There, she meets Constance, the last known descendant of Cinderella and her step sisters. Together they vow to bring down the king once and for all.

The Cost of Knowing by Brittney Morris: A gripping, evocative novel about Black teen Alex Rufus, who has the power to see into the future, and whose life turns upside down when he foresees his younger brother’s imminent death.

Crown of Thunder (Beasts Made of Night #2) by Tochi Onyebuchi: Taj has escaped Kos, but Queen Karima will go to any means necessary--including using the most deadly magic--to track him down. 

A Crown So Cursed (Nightmare Verse #3) by L.L. McKinney: Alice is ready to jump into battle when she learns that someone is building an army of Nightmares to attack the mortal world, before she learns of a personal connection to Wonderland.

Daughters of Jubilation by Kara Lee Corthron: In Jim Crow South, black teen Evalene Deschamps finds her place among a family of women gifted with magical abilities, known as jubilation - a gift passed down from generations of black women since the time of slavery.

Dread Nation by Justina Ireland: The Civil War is over, but mostly because the dead rose at Gettysburg—and then started rising everywhere else. Fighting the undead is a breeze for Jane McKenne, an Attendant, trained in both weaponry and etiquette to protect the well-to-do. But the fight for freedom? That’s a different story.

Deathless Divide (Dread Nation #2) by Justina Ireland: After the fall of Summerland, Jane McKeene hoped her life would get simpler. But nothing is easy when you’re a girl trained in putting down the restless dead, and a devastating loss on the road to Nicodermus has Jane questioning everything she thought she knew about surviving in 1880’s America.

A Dream So Dark (Nightmare Verse #2) by L.L. McKinney: Still reeling from her recent battle (and grounded until she graduates) Alice must cross the Veil to rescue her friends and stop the Black Knight once and for all in Wonderland.

Early Departures by Justin A. Reynolds: Jamal’s best friend Q is brought back to life after a freak accident … but they only have a short time together before he will die again.  How can Jamal fix his friendship without the truth?

Fate of Flames by Sarah Raughley:  Before they can save the world from the monstrous phantoms, four girls who have the power to control the classical elements: earth, air, fire, and water must first try to figure out how to work together. 

For All Time by Shanna Miles: Tamar and Fayard, two Black teens, are fated to repeat their love story across hundreds of lifetimes, from 14th-century Mali to the distant future, as they struggle to break the cycle.

The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna: Inspired by the culture of West Africa, a feminist fantasy debut traces the experiences of 16-year-old Deka, who is invited to leave her discriminatory village to join the emperor’s army of near-immortal women warriors.

The Good Luck Girls by Charlotte Nicole Davis: The country of Arketta calls them Good Luck Girls--they know their luck is anything but. Sold to a "welcome house" as children and branded with cursed markings. When Clementine accidentally kills a man, the girls risk a dangerous escape to find freedom, justice, and revenge.

Kingdom of Souls by Rena Barron: Set in a West African-inspired fantasy kingdom, Arrah comes from a long line of powerful witchdoctors, yet fails at magic. When Arrah trade years off her life for magic to stop the Demon King from destroying the world—that is if it doesn’t kill her first.

Legacy of Light (The Effgies #3) by Sarah Raughley: After Saul’s strike on Oslo—one seemingly led by Maia herself—the Effigies’ reputation is in shambles. Belle has gone rogue, Chae Rin and Lake have disappeared, and the Sect is being dismantled and replaced by a terrifying new world order helmed by Blackwell. If the Effigies can’t put the pieces together soon, there may not be much left of the world they’ve fought so desperately to save.

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn: In this King Arthur retelling, Black teen Bree Matthews infiltrates a secret society of powerful magic wielders to find out the truth behind her mother’s untimely death.

Mem by Bethany C. Morrow: In alternate reality Montreal (1925), a young woman’s personality is the result of a startling experimental procedure, leaving her to struggle with the question of who she really is.

Miles Morales, Spider-Man by Jason Reynolds: But Miles Morales accidentally discovers a villainous teacher's plan to turn good kids bad, he will need to come to terms with his own destiny as the new Spider-man. 

Oh My Gods by Alexandra Sheppard: Half-mortal teenager Helen Thomas goes to live with her father—who is Zeus, masquerading as a university professor—and must do her best to keep the family secret intact.

The Opposite of Always by Justin A. Reynolds: After falling for Kate, her unexpected death sends Jack back in time to the moment they first met, but he soon learns that his actions have consequences when someone else close to him dies.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith: Set in a futuristic, hostile Orleans landscape, Fen de la Guerre must deliver her tribe leader's baby over the Wall into the Outer States before her blood becomes tainted with Delta Fever. 

Nubia: Real One by L.L. McKinney & Robyn Smith: When Nubia’s best friend, Quisha, is threatened by a boy who thinks he owns the town, Nubia will risk it all—her safety, her home, and her crush on that cute kid in English class—to become the hero society tells her she isn’t.

A Phoenix First Must Burn: 16 Stories of Black Girl Magic, Resistance, and Hope edited by Patrice Caldwell: Filled with stories of love and betrayal, strength and resistance, this collection contains an array of complex and true-to-life characters in which you cannot help but see yourself reflected. Witches and scientists, sisters and lovers, priestesses and rebels.

This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron: In this contemporary fantasy inspired by The Secret Garden, Black teen Briseis has a gift: she can grow plants with a single touch. Up against a centuries-old curse and the deadliest plant on earth, Bri must harness her gift to protect herself and her family, when a nefarious group comes after her in search of a rare and dangerous immortality elixir.

A Psalm of Storm and Silence (A Song of Wraiths and Ruin #2) by Roseanne A. Brown: As the fabric holding Sonande together begins to tear, Malik and Karina once again find themselves torn between their duties and their desires.

A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) by Amanda Joy: After learning the truth of her heritage, Eva is on the run with her sister Isa as her captive, but with the Queendom of Myre on the brink of revolution, Eva and Isa must make peace with each other to save their kingdom.

Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko: In a West African-inspired empire, Tarisai is raised by The Lady and sent to kill the Crown Prince once she gains his trust. Tarisai won’t stand by and become someone’s pawn—but is she strong enough to choose a different path for herself?

Redemptor (Raybearer #2) by Jordan Ifueko: For the first time, an Empress Redemptor sits on Aritsar's throne. To appease the sinister spirits of the dead, Tarisai must now anoint a council of her own, coming into her full power as a Raybearer.

The Ravens by Danielle Page & Kass Morgan: The sisters of Kappu Rho Nu share a secret: they’re a coven of witches. For Vivi Deveraux, being one of Kappa Rho Nu’s Ravens means getting a chance to redefine herself. For Scarlett Winters, a bonafide Raven and daughter of a legacy Raven. When Vivi and Scarlett are paired as big and little for initiation, they find themselves sinking into the sinister world of blood oaths and betrayals.

Rebel Sisters (War Girls #2) by Tochi Onyebuchi: Though they are working toward common goals of helping those who suffered, Ify and Uzo are worlds apart. But when a mysterious virus breaks out among the children in the Space Colonies, their paths collide.

Reaper of Souls (Kingdom of Souls #2) by Rena Barron: After so many years yearning for the gift of magic, Arrah has the one thing she’s always wanted—at a terrible price. But the Demon King’s shadow looms closer than she thinks. And as Arrah struggles to unravel her connection to him, defeating him begins to seem more and more impossible.

A River of Royal Blood by Amanda Joy: A North African-inspired feminist fantasy in which two sisters, Eva and Isa must compete in a magical duel to the death for the right to inherit the queendom of Myre.  

Slice of Cherry by Dia Reeves: In Portero, Texas, teens Kit and Fancy Cordelle, daughters of the infamous Bonesaw Killer, bring two boys with similar tendencies to a world of endless possibilities they have discovered behind a mysterious door.

Siege of Shadows (The Effigies #2) by Sarah Raughley:  After Saul reappears with an army of soldiers with Effigy-like abilities, threatening to unleash the monstrous Phantoms, e-year-old Maia and the other Effigies hope to defeat him by discovering the source of their power over the four classical elements, but they are betrayed by the Sect and bogged down by questions about the previous Fire Effigy's murder.

The Sisters of Reckoning (The Good Luck Girls #2) by Charlotte Nicole Davis: The blockbuster sequel to an alternate Old West-set commercial fantasy adventure.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow: Set in the near-future, in which a captive teen human and a young alien leader—bonded by their love of forbidden books and music—embark on a desperate road trip as they attempt to overturn alien rule and save humankind. 

War Girls by Tochi Onyebuchi: Set in a futuristic, Black Panther-inspired Nigeria, sisters Onyii and Ify, separated by a devastating civil war, must fight their way back to each other against all odds.

Vessel by Sarah Beth Durst: When the goddess Bayla fails to take over Liyana's body, Liyana's people abandon her in the desert to find a more worthy vessel, but she soon meets Korbyn, who says the souls of seven deities have been stolen and he needs Liyana's help to find them.

The Weight of Stars by K. Ancrum: After a horrific accident brings loners Ryann and Alexandria together, Ryann learns that Alexandria's mother is an astronaut who volunteered for a one-way trip to the edge of the solar system.

White Smoke by Tiffany D. Jackson: Black teen Marigold and her blended family move into a newly renovated, picture-perfect home in a dilapidated Midwestern city, and are haunted by what she thinks are ghosts, but might be far worse.

Wings of Ebony by J. Elle: Black teen Rue, from a poor neighborhood who, after learning she is half-human, half-goddess, must embrace both sides of her heritage to unlock her magic and destroy the racist gods poisoning her neighborhood with violence, drugs, and crime.

Witches Steeped in Gold by Ciannon Thomas: In this Jamaican-inspired fantasy debut, two witches from enemy castes—one seeking power, and one seeking revenge—will stop at nothing to overthrow the witch queen, even if it means forming an alliance with each other and unleashing chaos on their island nation.

Within These Wicked Walls by Lauren Blackwood: An Ethiopian-inspired Jane Eyre retelling in which an unlicensed debtera, or exorcist, Andromeda, is hired to rid a castle of its dangerous curses, only to fall in love with Magnus Rochester, a boy whose life hangs in the balance.

Yesterday Is History by Kosoko Jackson: Black teen Andre Cobb undergoes a liver transplant and as a side effect winds up slipping through time from present-day Boston to 1969 NYC on the eve of the Stonewall riots, delivering a story that is part romance, part gay history, and part time-travel drama, exploring how far we have and haven't come. 

[lassieposting]

Vile and Mevolent, for the romantic headcanons?

Who goes to bed late and who wakes up first?

Both Vile, because he very rarely sleeps through the night. He'll go to bed whenever Mevolent does, but he has nightmares and a hard time switching off the hypervigilance, so someone coughing three rooms away or walking by at the far end of the hall or laughing in the gardens will startle him awake and he'll struggle to resettle. A lot of the time he gets up multiple times during the night, then comes back to bed once he's confident there's no threat. The sunrise, the dawn chorus, the fire in the grate burning down to embers (less crackly noise, more cold), and increased footfall in the hallways will also wake him up, so he doesn't normally sleep past when the servants start their work.

Mev, on the other hand, sleeps like the dead, and only gets up at a reasonable hour because he's got shit to do - if he's got the time to lounge in bed till noon, he'll do it. He sleeps through most of Vile's nighttime activity, but when it does wake him, he can usually calm Vile down enough to coax him back to sleep.

Who sings during daily activities (shower, cooking, etc)?

Mevolent. Some of the Faceless hymns are catchy. He's got an okay voice, so Vile doesn't mind. It amuses him how upbeat some of the tunes are for songs that are mostly about the faceless ones laying waste to the planet, though.

Who takes care of the other on sick days?

Mevolent. Not that he has to do it often - they're both incredibly tough, and sorcerers are immune to most mortal illnesses, so the only thing likely to bench either of them for more than a few hours is a Serious Injury. And? Mevolent is a sensible, rational man. When he has a Serious Injury, he goes to Nye, because Nye is by far the most competent surgeon on Mevolent's staff, and Nye fixes him up.

Vile is not a sensible, rational man. Vile is a torture survivor. He won't let Nye get within thirty feet of him, because Nye was the one advising Serpine on how much more he could take before it killed him. He's wildly unpredictable when he's hurt, because he goes into self-preservation mode, and everyone around him becomes a threat. And to make everyone's lives even harder, he has a tendency to mask an injury and try to fix it himself, because he's surrounded by the same people who tortured him and he cannot afford to show weakness. So once Mev wins his trust, he's pretty much the only person Vile will let take care of him when he's hurt.

Who gives unprompted massages?

Vile. Mevolent spends a lot of time sat at a desk, and gets the stiff neck/shoulders/back accordingly. Vile will come up behind him to look over his shoulder at what he's doing, and absent-mindedly do Mev's shoulders while he's at it.

Mev will give massages too, usually to make Vile go all drowsy and relaxed after a few rough nights of little sleep, but he asks first.

What activity do they do together in sync?

Compensate for each other's weaknesses in battle. For Mevolent, this means keeping an eye on Vile's blind side: usually, his magic does this for him and gets him around just fine, but a battlefield is so chaotic that it's difficult for him to tell his fighters' life energy and the enemy's apart. For Vile, this means being fast enough to hit anything Mevolent can't. For all that he's "slender", Mev is a big, strong guy; he's the tank, and his equipment shows it: heavy armour, massive greatsword. But the tradeoff for that sword's powerful swing is slower speed. Vile is smaller, faster and his armour moves with him, so he'll take out anything that gets too close to Mev before he has time to swing. They're a highkey unstoppable team in battle.

Who gives nose/forehead/hand kisses?

Mevolent. Vile is more neck/shoulderblade/wrist kisses.

Who gets jealous?

Both of them, but Vile is the one you really don't want to cross; he's lost everything he cared about before and it completely broke him, so he absolutely will not tolerate competition. There's a rumour that the real reason Serpine tried to pull off a sloppy assassination - when he's always been so meticulous about his schemes - and then fled the city is because he found out that when Mevolent asked what gift would prove his love, Vile asked for Serpine's head. It's also a popular theory that Serafina's death, officially a "tragic accident", was in fact the deliberate removal of a rival (although, the court is divided on whether Nef or Vile arranged it).

Mev is a lot more chilled about his jealousy. It comes with having the power to grind your rival's entire bloodline to dust whenever you feel like it.

Soft kisses or passionate kisses?

Both.

Who brings the other food at work?

Vile will load up a plate of leftovers if Mevolent is balls deep in A Project and misses a meal, and take it up to his office so he'll still eat something. He actually has a better handle on When Mevolent Last Ate than Mev does.

Who made the first move?

Lowkey both of them. It was a blazing row during a post-battle debrief-slash-dressing-down that unexpectedly became an adrenaline-fuelled angry fuck. Neither is really sure who pounced first.

Who won’t dress in costume unless it’s a couple costume?

Mevolent won't dress up unless it's like, a super fancy, elegant masquerade ball costume. Vile is an introverted antisocial buzzkill and won't dress up at all.

How was their first date like?

They went riding. Vile was at the point of recovery where he was climbing the walls with cabin fever, and short walks in the palace gardens weren't cutting it anymore, so Mevolent took him outside the city to let off some steam.

Who writes love letters/notes to the other?

Both of them! The early years of their relationship were during the war, when they'd often find themselves leading the offensive on completely different continents. This being the 1800s, they'd communicate primarily by letter; incorporeal visitations were a thing, but still in the very experimental stage, and Teleporters were precious.

Originally, Vile would send field reports, and Mevolent would respond with written orders. Professional. Brief. Succinct. Then Vile has his injury. They get closer while he's recuperating, and when he goes back to the front, his orders arrive with a postscript, more or less saying, "How are you holding up?" He adds a postscript of his own to his next report - essentially, "I'm fine" - and then, after a bit of consideration, decides that sounds too brusque and adds a little funny story about something that happened with one of his soldiers recently.

The postscripts get longer. They share little anecdotes, celebrate each other's victories, comfort each other after defeats. Vile sends Mev three scrawly pages of absolute filth, which is delightedly received halfway across the world. Mevolent spells Vile's name differently on every single letter, and somehow never manages to spell it the same way twice (Veighle? Vyle? Veele? Véle? Vile is ready to end him and his medieval approach to spelling.) They even send each other little trophies or souvenirs, squeezed in at the very end of a crowded parchment.

"V - Saw this and thought of you. M"

"M - You'll probably laugh at this as much as I did. V"

Who firmly believed the other was their soulmate from early on?

They're too bitter and jaded and scarred to believe in soulmates. Vile was the one who immediately thought Mevolent Got Him, though - "finally, here is someone who shares my appetite for destruction."

How much do they touch each other (PDA)?

Rarely, in public. Once Mevolent is fully established as ruler of the world and he can be open about his relationship without risking his crusade, they might dance together occasionally, or touch one another's arm to get their attention, or murmur in one another's ear. But they were a secret for over a century, and they very rarely interact publicly in a way that would be out of character for a lord and his general. Vile still usually enters rooms behind/"guarding" Mevolent rather than on his arm (with a few exceptions, usually when Mev wants to make a point). The main "PDA" for them is that they use each other's names, rather than "my lord"/"general", and Vile will look Mevolent in the eye, which isn't really permitted for anyone else.

Do they have cute nicknames for each other?

Vile is "V" a lot of the time.

How do they feel about Valentine’s Day? Do they go on a date?

Valentine was a Christian saint, and Mevolent only endorses the Faceless religion, so while V-day might still exist in Leibniz, it would only be in the homes of those brave enough to flaunt the laws around false gods and banned faiths, and would probably not be openly celebrated.

Public marriage proposal or something private?

Private. The first anyone else hears about it is when someone notices that Mevolent's changed his family crest. It's normal for sorcerers to either impale their crest (split the shield down the middle, with half your crest on one side and your partner's on the other) with their new spouse's, or include a nod to their spouse's crest in their own, by adopting one of their tinctures or bearers or something. The gossip circuit goes wild trying to figure out what prompted the change - nobody recognises the impaled crest, and Mevolent's shown no interest in any young ladies of good family since Lady Serafina's tragic passing. Rumours abound. Changing your crest is something that happens after you get married, not before - so at some point, their lord and master got secretly married and didn't tell anyone.

Eventually, someone points out that Mevolent took Lord Vile off to one of his summer palaces for a few weeks several months ago, ostensibly to renovate. That summer palace is small as palaces go, and quiet, and that trip could...feasibly have been a honeymoon, a newly married couple wanting some privacy. But if that's true...they've been married almost a year, and nobody knew a damn thing.

After changing the crest, Mev announces a month of feasting and festivities to celebrate. He manages his public image carefully, and he knows that the commonfolk won't give a damn that he's gone and married his heathen lover, if it gives them an excuse to get drunk and stuff themselves on his dime.

Vile, being an intensely private person, took forever to okay the crest change, but since most of the court is terrified of him, he only really gets questioned by a few people.

How long into the relationship before they had sex?

Their relationship literally began with a post-battle adrenaline-fuelled angry fuck. They hooked up long before ever developing Feelings.

Who drops innuendos at random?

Neither of them are hugely inclined towards innuendoes, but it happens for both of them occasionally.

Who makes romantic surprises without a reason to?

They both will, but the definition of romantic varies wildly. "I've arranged a showing of an opera you like" and "I've kept this prisoner until you got back so we can interrogate him together" are both under the umbrella of "romantic surprise" for these two.

How likely are they to have sex in a non-bedroom location?

Very. Mevolent's throne is a popular pick. The carriage, the bathtub and every flat surface in Mev's rooms are also A-OK.

Who said “I love you” first and when?

Vile really struggles with the big three. Everyone he's ever said that to, he's lost, usually in horrible ways. He's lowkey convinced himself that if he doesn't say it, he won't ever lose Mevolent.

So it's Mev that says it first, and it's kind of in the middle of a religious crisis. He's fairly convinced the gods would overlook him fucking a heathen, given all the good he's done in their name, but then one night they're in bed together, Vile is dozing off on his chest, and he's got this warm fuzzy feeling like this is How Things Should Be, and he's not really been in love before but he's pretty sure that's a much more serious sin. Vile mumbles at him to ask what he's all fidgety about, and "I think I might be falling in love with you and that terrifies me" comes out during the resultant conversation.

Who will sing cheesy romantic songs when drunk?

Mevolent. The cheesy romantic songs are from like, the middle ages. It's a bit like your older boyfriend trying to seduce you with dad-rock - cringey, but in a funny, I-love-you-but-god-you-suck kinda way.

[storyofmychoices]

One More

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Masterlist] [Mal’s Orphanage Series]

Characters: Mal Volari, Daenarya (F!MC, human), a bunch of OC children (Ovisa, Rayden, Fienna, Lydo) Book/Pairing: Blades of Light & Shadow [Mal x F!MC] Rating: General, Fluff

This takes place after Blades Book 1 at Mal’s orphanage. I started this (and many other stories) months ago and have been waiting for the right time to post. I never imagined my orphanage would be canon. 

Synopsis: Mal loves telling stories of their adventures, and the kids love listening to them. Will he tell them one more? What story will he tell?

☆  ☆  ☆  ☆   ☆   ☆   ☆

“Please, Mr. Mal,” Ovisa pleaded, her dark eyes twinkling even in the darkness as the group sat on the roof the orphanage enjoying the warm summer night under the stars. “Just one more story!” 

"Yesss, one more pleaseeeee?" A chorus of children begged, clasping their hands together their little lips quivering at their request; each of them inching closer, their anticipation growing.  

Mal attempted to suppress the smile twitching on his lips. “Tomorrow is another day. Time for sleep.” 

“But we’re not tired!” Rayden protested, crossing his arms and digging further into his spot in the group. 

“Me either,” Ovisa agreed, matching the slightly older boy’s posture.

Daenarya wrapped her arms around Mal’s, leaning further into him as they sat together. She shrugged softly, suppressing a smirk, “I think you’re outnumbered, Mr. Magnificent... One more story! One more story!”

The children cheered repeating the chant until the reformed rogue threw up his hands in defeat. He held out his finger, “Just ONE... not like the last time when I said one more and you ended up with two!”

“I want the mermaid story,” Fienna requested, playing with her long dark hair that Daenarya had just finished braiding with beads they had got at the market earlier. “I hope someday I can be a mermaid.” (They hadn’t had the heart to crush her dreams of being a mermaid.)

“No, the one with the pirates!” Rayden jumped to his feet, slashing his arms through the air with an imaginary sword. 

His brother Lydo stood to meet him, “a duel you say? En garde.” The other children watched in merriment as they battled with their imaginary swords. 

“Look out! A Grobtar,” Rayden cried, pointing his blades toward Mal. “We must work together to save our crews.”

“Charge!” Lydo called as they rushed Mal.

“Okay, you two, settle down!” Daenarya held her hand up instinctively to keep the boys from getting too close, the other hand caressed her swollen stomach. She knew Mal wouldn’t have minded, but she was a little closer than she would prefer–too many flailing feet and arms when their battle would inevitably end up in a tickle fight. “I think all of those stories might be a bit too active for this time of night!”

“I have just the story.” Mal leaned forward toward the children. “A long time ago, we were invited to this fancy-schmancy masquerade ball. We got all dressed up to blend in with the uppity elves…. Miss Daeny couldn't stop talking about how handsome I looked in my costume. I had to remind her to focus on our mission!" 

She rolled her eyes, elbowing him in the side. 

"I bet she looked really beautiful,” Fienna marveled. “Miss Daenarya is so pretty, like a mermaid.”

"She was perfect; in fact, she was the most beautiful person at the ball," Mal admitted, brushing the back of his hand over her arm. "So, we snuck into the party and spent a while looking for clues and gathering secrets. And, don’t tell anyone, but we also ate cake and snacks before dinner!”

“Hey, how come we never can do that!” Lydo pouted. “I want cake!”

“Our host was very late, and Mr. Mal was very hungry,” He explained. “You always have dinner right on time, don’t you?”

Lydo nodded, “I guess.”

“Well, the best part of the night wasn’t the cake! It was when Daenarya agreed to dance with me.” Mal stood and offered her his hand. He guided her delicately across the roof in step with him as he hummed a song for them. 

Moving may take more effort now, as they danced as three, but when they were together nothing felt more right. Even that night, she knew he was meant for something more than he ever imagined, and now, he was the hero of White Tower, but more importantly, the savior of these children. He saw them when no one else did. She never could have imagined how much love he had to give once he opened himself up to first being loved.

“And then… I did this,” his voice trailed away; he tipped her back slightly, his lips meeting hers tenderly.

A sea of “eww!” and “gross!” met their embrace as the children turned away. 

Mal and Daenarya traded a look before shifting their attention back to the children. “Who’s next?” They questioned, reaching out to catch the children and plant soft kisses on their foreheads. 

The laughter of the children as they ran around the roof with their two adoring surrogate parents drifted like a melody through the once dark streets of White Tower, bringing new life and a light that had once been forgotten

☆  ☆  ☆  ☆   ☆   ☆   ☆

Perma tags: @lilyoffandoms​ ; @raleighcarrera​ ; @mfackenthal​ ; @the-soot-sprite​ ; @virtuallytakenby​​ ; @zeniamiii​ ; @kaavyaethanramsey​; @choicesobsessed; @xjustin-ethansgirliex​ ; @caseyvalentineramsey​; @trappedinfandoms​; @anotherbeingsworld​ ;  @obsessed-with-humans​

Blades Tags: @princess-geek​​​​​​​​ ; @brightpinkpeppercorn​​ ; @missameliep​​ ; @mvalentine​​; @walkerswhiskeygirl​​

[empyrealarc]

Reverse Boss battle!

REVERSE BOSS BATTLE! @artificiallyimplantedmemories

The Challenger: Angela 'Hot Girl General' Ramone!

The Champion: Natalia 'Prim Looking Stargazer' Romanovna!

The Stage: Radio City Music Hall/A Masquerade Ball/A Shooting Range/Avengers Tower Living Room.

The Scene:

Nat: Oh, you're approaching me? Even though I already told you that there's no way you can do what I do, you're still holding on to this foolish dream?

Angie: I can't add 'Black Widow' to my cosplay resume without one-upping your perfectly honed ass.

Nat: OH HO, then let's get this over with.

The Soundtrack: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) by The Eurythmics!

Here's why~

Sweet Dreams, despite being one of my favorite songs in all of existence, is a three and a half minute, 80s synth-pop/faux orchestral break-up song masquerading as a club BANGER. It exists in several states of existence at once, flawlessly dancing between them all yet never exploding beyond a hypnotic inspiring chorus, and serves as an opportune montage piece for the multi-stage battle between Angela (not Ana'Hira) and Natalia (or some say Natasha).

[Lyrical Snippet] Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree? I've traveled the world and the seven seas, everybody's lookin' for something! Some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you! Some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused...

Nat and Ana were brought up, from a very young age, under the 'tutelage' of organizations that wanted them as weapons. Spies, infiltrators, assassins, warriors. They've each crossed to every port on the globe, seen all that the world could offer women of their caliber... and survived. It is this kinship that's led Angela to seek to add Nat as a role model and a cosplay inspiration. She wants to be able to zip up the tacsuit she ordered on etsy with pride, and to that end? The montage battle with Nat.

[Lyrical Snippet] Hold your head up! Keep your head up, movin' on. Hold your head up, movin' on! Keep your head up, movin' on. Hold your head up, movin' on! Keep your head up, movin' on. Hold your head up, movin' on. Keep your head up!

Self-perseverance is important where the pair is concerned. If they can't rely on themselves, who can they rely on? Who can maintain their legends if not them? The Widow is protective of her legacy, of course, and to that end Angela has to truly be up to snuff to represent it even artistically.

The battle between the pair is multi-tiered. At RADIO CITY, the pair have a dance-off. From ballet to #bussit, the two speak to each other with their movements, and Natasha observes if this neophyte is more than just pluck.

At THE MASQUERADE BALL, deception is the game. Both in disguise, they share a common goal of taking something from the party's host, and whomever does so first, and without earning any undo attention is the victor. The Widow is a spy, not a soldier. Castle storming is fun if it's all you can do, but calling to the night is simply a thrill.

At the SHOOTING RANGE, the martial skills are set to the test. The skill, the accuracy, the ability? It pays to be able to wield a dagger as an assassin, but being dirty with the tokarev TT-33 is just as delightful. Here, despite her skrull training, Angela is falling behind. Her arts are beautiful, but compared to the legend? Thankfully, she holds her head up. She keeps her head up! And despite herself, the spider is impressed.

[Lyrical Snippet] Sweet dreams are made of this. Who am I to disagree? I've traveled the world and the seven seas... everybody's lookin' for something.

It's not as if the girl wants to be America's Next Top Assassin. She wants to pay homage to a legend, and a personal hero, and despite being a simple internet blogger and loudmouthed personality, she's held up so far. She's put her heart into it and she held her own with Nat for the whole day...

As the song wraps back into its eternal chorus, and reintroduces hope and a glimpse at the future among a bitter and pained past, so does Natasha introduce her official sponsored professional cosplayer to the Tower. The girl is a frighteningly accurate duplicate. A bit too tall, a mite too busty, but her remaining features are a 1:1 copy. If she wasn't swearing up and down that she was just incredibly gifted at make-up use, one would suspect her to be a shapeshifter.

She's able to fool a few unsuspecting Avengers upon first meeting. The ones that truly know Nat aren't so easily fooled, but are stunned by the strange giddy duplicate prancing around.

Sweet Dreams are often unreachable and impossible, but the pair of them know a thing or two about impossibility and achieving what they set their minds too. Angie found a new role to pour herself into... and Nat found a new apprentice to offer time and attention to.

Its not perfect either way, but who am I to disagree?

[olivia-lovecraft]

Greek God Aesthetic

APHRODITE:

laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger

APOLLO:

glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of Wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account

ARES:

armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell may have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

ARTEMIS:

keen senses of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows, resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting its target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

ATHENA:

discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a life-long teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes

DEMETER:

soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom friend, can lift you and all of your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

DIONYSUS:

drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

HEPHAESTUS:

the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted by blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

HERA:

resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

HERMES:

devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps,fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes red bull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers

POSEIDON:

storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

ZEUS:

thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, pretends that they don’t have feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with apparent ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, expensive watch, like a boss

Tagged by @joskinar and @saidelia-draconis Thank you both!

Tagging @maluraunderchild @ranekvilmas @darsacarrington @subjectragnar @claret-chorus

[joskinar]

Greek God Aesthetics

  APHRODITE: laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger

APOLLO: glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of Wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account

ARES: armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell may have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

ARTEMIS: keen senses of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows, resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting its target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

ATHENA: discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a life-long teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid,big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain,heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes

DEMETER: soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom friend, can lift you and all of your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

DIONYSUS: drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

HEPHAESTUS: the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted by blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

HERA: resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

HERMES: devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps,fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes red bull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers  

POSEIDON: storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

ZEUS: thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, pretends that they don’t have feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with apparent ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, expensive watch, like a boss

Tagged by @smoke-and-stilettos

Tagging @illy-bean @vaesha-draecon @claret-chorus @saidelia-draconis @olivia-lovecraft and anyone else who might wanna do this!

[bauxite-muse]

pan did nothing wrong 

[renetia]

Chapter 2, Part 2 – The Astronomer

The first figure to enter the ring was a bald-headed man whose bulky torso was covered in tattoos. He strutted to the centre of the ring and held his arms high to the crowd's cheers. His eyes seemed glazed over, as if he was in a trance. He shuffled around, ducking and throwing jabs, before making his way to his corner.

Then, the second figure stepped into the light. It was another man, younger, and slim but muscular, with strips of cloth bandaging his hands and forearms. Shaggy, silver hair fell wildly around his statuesque face. There was something unusual about how he carried himself. His movements were slow and seemingly weightless. This man seemed oblivious to the crowd, almost as if he was looking at another world, invisible to all but himself. Talon watched him, mesmerised.

Eve also eyed the scene intently. This must be Gau, she thought, recalling the female guard's earlier comments. She cast her eyes over to the seating area. The well-dressed man with the ponytail was watching the ring and smiling, his chin resting on his steepled hands. His eyes suddenly snapped to the left, locking with Eve's. Her heart leapt.

At that instant a bell sounded, and the tattooed man began to advance hungrily on his opponent. The younger man took a lethargic step backwards and raised his hands, with no apparent sense of urgency. The crowd's cheering intensified, and chants of “Snail!” swept the arena. The bald man, bouncing energetically on his toes, threw some tentative jabs, which bounced harmlessly off his opponent's bandaged forearms. He then leaned in for a heavy right hand swing. The counter-attack came in one fluid motion, almost too quick to see. A moment later, the bald man lay sprawled out, unconscious, in the centre of the ring. As a medical team clambered into the ring, admit chants of his nickname, Gau, “the Snail”, made his leisurely exit.

The commotion died down and the spectators began to disperse, many descending on the bar. As the crowd thinned, Talon made his way to the infirmary, followed by Eve and Alice. He passed the seating area on his way and saw the ponytail-man counting money on the table, a smirk on his face. Something about the man's expression made Talon uncomfortable. As Eve passed, the man looked up, and winked. Eve pretended not to notice. They reached the infirmary, and Talon knocked loudly on the door. It swung open, and an armed guard stepped out, wearing the same uniform as those at the town hall. He beckoned to them and they followed him down a corridor to a small waiting room. The guard showed them in and then exited the room. Moments later, a young man with dark hair and glasses appeared. He was wearing somewhat antiquated scholarly attire. Upon seeing the man's face, with its solemn expression, Talon felt a surge of emotion that he could neither repress not explain. On their way to the hospital, Eve had told the Prince that Zenith had cared for him when he was very young. It must be an early memory Talon speculated.

“Forgive me” the doctor said, in a soft, pleasant voice “for meeting with you in such demeaning conditions.” Eve sat down, without waiting to be asked, and gestured for the children to do the same. The doctor continued: “I am sure you have many questions, but first, I should ask you if you are in good health; if not, I may be able to assist...”

“We are fine, Zenith” Eve interrupted.

Zenith nodded. “I'm sorry” he said, “I am still a doctor, after all.”

“You're an astronomer” Eve retorted. There was a tense silence.

“I am relieved to see you all” Zenith said, after a moment.

“Then you are aware?” Eve asked.

“Of the castle being overthrown? Yes”, he replied. “Even being trapped here, I'm not oblivious to such significant news.”

“What do you mean 'trapped'. What is this place?”

Zenith stepped fully into the room, making sure to close the door behind him, then he took a seat opposite Eve and the siblings.

He sighed. “It's quite a peculiar situation. We are currently sitting in what was once the finest medical facility in the region. That is until the King ceased providing the finances necessary for its operation. As a result of the King's negligence, this region has fallen into decay, and the hospital with it.”

Talon clenched his fists. “Don't you dare speak ill...”

Eve placed her hand on Talon's arm, stifling his outburst.

Zenith continued. “I am sorry that I must be the one to shatter your illusion, but this uprising was carried out by the Kingdom's own people, and understandably so. Recently, the non-essential territories have been subjected to relentless impoverishment. The central agricultural and industrial infrastructure was maintained due to the Castle's dependency on it, however, taxation and repression in the prioritised regions also increased proportionately. No attempt to seek audience with the King has been successful. When the people realised their King had abandoned them, they became increasingly desperate and, unable to organise themselves effectively, turned on each other, fighting like animals over what little remained. Unwilling to stand by and watch this town and its people disintegrate, I devised a strategy to keep my hospital alive.”

“You turned it into a fight club” Eve scowled. “And you call yourself a doctor”.

“The town had degraded to such an extent that I felt it was justified. In the absence of any amenities or distractions, the people's anger was overflowing. I gave them a way to vent their anger in a controlled environment. I gave them a spectacle which reflected their frustration. The admission fees would pay for the hospital's maintenance. The fighters would be injured here and they would be treated here. Having regular events to look forward to, and the security of unconditional health care, I was able to secure a minimal standard of living that would attract attention from neighbouring districts and catalyse a social and economic recovery”.

“You took the dogs in from the street and you put on a dog fight.” Eve kept her cold stare fixed on Zenith's bespectacled visage.

“Yes” Zenith replied, “if you wish to put it so crudely. However, I did not anticipate the events that followed.” He gestured to a low wooden table in the corner of the room. On it was propped a picture of woman in a hospital bed. “While the club thrived, my mother's condition worsened. I became increasingly preoccupied with her care, and was forced to delegate my responsibilities. It seems that in my distraction, I chose my delegates unwisely. By the time I realised what they were doing, they had taken over the club entirely. They told me of their intentions, and asked me to participate. I tried to defy them, and they took my mother hostage.”

“They?” Eve interjected.

“The people in those strange uniforms” Zenith answered. “They are from another Kingdom. They came here in disguise, knowing of our current weakness. They saw what I had done to the hospital, how I had taken the people's discontent and turned it into energy. They took my idea and they spread it across the many towns of the kingdom. Then, they took the new class of warriors that I had unwittingly spawned, and they brought them together under the banner of revolution. The castle was overthrown with ease...”

Zenith paused, seemingly disconcerted by the teddy bear undulating in front of his face. “Don't hold him by the ear” Alice instructed, “The stitching will tear.” Zenith took Plato by the midriff and inspected him casually. “Indeed...” he murmured, “...how very apt.”

Eve frowned in disbelief. “So, you're saying that, rather than taking over our kingdom by force, they capitalised on the people's own anger, and got us to conquer our own kingdom without us realising it.”

“Yes. I was told that if I intervened, my mother would not be safe. They have kept me here as the club medic, and they have allowed me to continue researching my mothers illness.”

Eve stood up, and walked slowly across the room to the photograph on the table.

“Your mother's illness...” she repeated. Her voice was suddenly strained and quiet. “Zenith, explain yourself.”

“You were told that I was dismissed from the King's service due to my failure to cure young Alice's condition. This is not far from the truth, however there is more to it. My mother suffers from the same condition. I have dedicated the latter half of my life to researching its cure. One day, I discovered a possibility.”

Before Zenith had finished his sentence, Talon was running across the room towards him. The young Prince planted his hands on the arms of Zenith's chair and leaned towards him.

“Did you find the cure?!” he shouted.

“Yes”, said Zenith, “I believe so”.

[xliliumalbum]

Chapter 4: Lost Destination.

Unmasking. (Lilium Album.)

  Darkness billowed from the walls and the cavernous ceiling in waves, gasping like smoke and rippling like water. Screams and shrieks and hysterical shouting bounced back and forth amid the sounds of thundering footsteps. Anger bubbled forth like the blood spilt freely, running down to the floor to puddle in unbroken circles -- in the darkness, it looked black.

  The twins saw it first, lying helplessly forgotten amid stampeding feet, somehow still in one piece. They swooped in like ravenous vultures, two sets of hands vying for a single prize. The executioner scooped it up before her sister, and crowed with delight. They huddled together, entranced by the light of the surface clasped between their small hands, eyes growing wide with amazement.

“It’s so bright,” said the reaper.

“Yes,” agreed the executioner, turning the princess’ forgotten flower around in her hands. “This is what real light must be like.”

A pain pinched both of their hearts. This was a symbol of everything that the empress had wanted, and it was this that had turned her eyes away from the twins.

“I hate it,” they whispered, only to each other. “I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.”

The reaper took a delicate petal between her fingers, feeling its soft, waxy surface.

“Hate it.”

She ripped it free, and it fluttered to the ground.

  The knight couldn’t rise to her feet. She stayed on her knees, her white soldier’s uniform slowly blossoming with red, like roses blooming in the spring sun. Blood slipped between her fingers, under the guards on her hands, oiling the joints. Her fingers trembled. Her shoulders shook. Her whole body tremored, like an earthquake was rooted in her spine.

In her hand remained her sword, slipping against her palm, slick with blood. Against her rested his body, and that was all there was. The surroundings seemed to be very far away.

Somehow, above the steady hum of darkness rolling down around them, and the dying sound of a riot, she heard him whisper to her, blood on his lips, before his heart stopped at last, and he died in her embrace.

Wrenching up her skirts, the empress descended the steps from her throne, rage rising in a frenzy. Enough was enough. Her guards may have fled, and every other demon may be cowering away from some stinking, blessed light, but she was the empress of the underworld, and something so basic would not scare her. She was her father’s creation. She was one of the most powerful existences in the world.

Striding across the ballroom floor, the empress raised her hands, gathering power in her fingertips, feeling the darkness all around surge through her veins.

“We’ll talk about this later, father,” she hissed to herself, raising her hand high above her head. “But for now I have some gate crashers to attend to.”

The outcast watched with horror as the princess drove her brother back with darkness, blood spraying across the floor in their wake. Fear rose in his throat like a tidal wave, and he barely swallowed it before he choked on his own breath.

What was this feeling? His hands leapt to his throat, and his body tensed so much that it hurt. What was this feeling, that pained him so much?

Somehow the empress’ regal presence didn’t mean anything anymore, lost in the melee that surrounded them. Instead what came to mind were strange memories of the surface, a soft voice singing in among the flowers of a castle garden. Sitting in shadows as he watched her tend her roses and lilies, strangely content with her unknowing company.

He’d known this feeling before. He remembered it. The time he had been flung from the underworld, sentenced to walk the earth as neither human nor demon till the end of its days. Then, he had known that feeling of sympathy. A human emotion that sprang up inside him, fleckled with a pure love that drove him to save a human girl’s soul from the underworld. Now he remembered. What it was like to be human.

The outcast’s head swiveled round. The princess and her brother were a blur among the darkness and demons, the beacon of her light flickering like a dying candle. He had to stop her. He had to remind her of her humanity, of who she was.

A glimmer of light caught his eye.

The twins seemed to vanish as quickly as he’d seen them, swept away with the crowd, but he had seen what they had stolen. Memories flowed into him, and he recalled the moment the princess had carefully plucked that flower, and the words that she had breathed to herself, hoping to cheer her brother with the gift.

He would likely never see her, the princess, or the underworld again, but he knew what he must do. Resolving himself for the final time, the outcast lunged after the twins.

A strike as cold as ice sent the knight sprawling backwards, her faceguard shattering. White feathers scattered into the air, and a metallic ringing deafened her. Vision swimming, copper taste on her tongue, she instantly pushed herself back up on instinct, only for her body to falter.

She had been flung away from the body of the man she knew by a force of darkness, slung from the empress’ own hand, which now hovered casually in the air as the empress looked down to them from across the floor.

Her lips moved, but the knight heard nothing, didn’t need to hear anything. Pure emotion flooded her body, and she rose back to her feet against every muscle’s screaming resistance on resolve alone.

She did not have time to mourn. She did not have time to waste giving in to the underworld’s pull. Blood ran down her face and mingled with leftover tears, and half-blind, she moved herself forward. The ring against her collarbones was a reminder. The blood on her hands was a reminder. She was here for a reason, and only that reason.

Surging forward with a mind devoid of thought, the knight raised her sword, and swung it in a blindingly fast arc.

The empress caught it between her fingers easily, movement languid, as if swatting away an insect.

“This is the best the surface can send?” she sneered. “Or is your princess that unimportant to you?”

Her lips pulled into a taut smile, and with a surge of darkness rushing through her fingertips, the knight’s sword was flung back as if met by an electric shock. The empress flinched, her hand yanking back towards herself, but she did not have time to inspect her tingling fingers, as the sword came swinging down again.

Again, light and darkness clashed, and the two opposing forces repelled each other with such strength that the two women were sent skidding away from each other, but the pause only lasted for a second. They met again, and again, the empress batting away the sword with her hands and arms, shrouded in darkness.

The knight drove onward regardless, shocks driving up her arms and into her shoulders with every impact, sparks of light and darkness flying with each meeting.

Behind her unknowing back, the servant’s body began to dissolve into seemingly nothing, wisps of light and darkness trailing up into the air. As nothing more than a soul, this death meant he was fated to vanish into nothing. No more hell. No heaven. He would simply be erased from existence. The servant began to vanish, and left the world a martyr.

When the traitor tried to speak, blood bubbled on his lips, and his voice caught somewhere in his throat. Pain seared through his side in waves of a magnitude he couldn’t have even imagined. Each beat of his heart seemed to throb in the wound on his side, sending a stab of pain through him so strong he struggled to hold down the nausea.

He called his sister’s name, broken and creaking.

The princess bore over him, looking down with eyes that did not seem to belong to her.

He called her name again, though it came out more as a whisper, almost inaudible. His head swam, and things seemed to be moving very slowly. It seemed very strange, that he was bleeding, and that his sister was looking at him in that way. It seemed very strange indeed, and his head couldn’t put together the pieces into a coherent answer.

An iron grip settled around his throat, and dragged him back up to his feet. The traitor’s breath caught in his lungs, unable to escape, blood choking from his lips. One hand flew up to the grip around his throat, to find fingers under his own, slick with blood.

Sister, he thought, black seeping into the edges of his vision, sister, I never knew you had this strength. How did you hide such strength in such a frail body?

I wonder how I went our whole lives, the traitor thought, as a new pain flared like fire in his shoulder, without knowing who you were at all.

Somewhere in the darkness, in a small room hidden in the depths of the underworld, the man staring down into his stone basin, watching the scene, smiled. He smiled until his face began to hurt. His fingers gripped his basin, knuckles growing white, chains on his wrists creaking and clinking.

“Erase it,” he murmured to the rippling water. “Erase the light from this world.”

His fingers sank into the stone with a snap, cracks forming under his grip. The light’s body was weakening, her existence beginning to waver, and in turn, his own power began to stir from a slumber centuries old.

“Erase it all,” he whispered.

“Hey, hey, is he still following us?” cried the executioner, voice shrill and excited.

“Yes, yes!” cried the reaper, whirling under the arm of one of the dwindling crowd. Soon there would be nowhere left to hide.

Shrieking with laughter, the twins danced through the crying, vanishing crowd, clashing together to fight over who would carry the flower only to dash away again. The outcast was struggling to keep up.

“Here!” the reaper cackled, grasping her sister’s hands and whirling them to a stop, breathless and giddy.

“Isn’t it strange?” the executioner gasped, cupping the flower in her hands.

They huddled together over its light, excitedly prodding and probing at its petals. One came off in the reaper’s hand, and the two girls looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“Ooh,” they said together, before dissolving into hysterical laughter, the petal dropping and fluttering lightly to the floor.

Without warning, a hand lunged between them, and the twins were both shoved aside, their small bodies easily being knocked away. Both sprawled down to the floor with a shriek, and when their heads rose, they saw with terror that the crowd around them had dwindled to all but nothing, and the flower now remained in neither of their hands.

Now, it was in his.

“Give that back!” the twins screamed in unison, scrambling to their feet and diving toward the thief.

But the outcast was bigger, and faster, and he easily shifted out of their path, skittering away with only a faintly worried look written clean across his face. He stepped back once, twice, paused. The twins staggered, and looked to him, and their empty hands twitched.

In the blink of an eye those same empty hands curled around the handles of a scythe and an axe, and their small, delicate faces twisted with fury.

“Even if you’re one of us,” the reaper snarled, her voice shaking.

“We can still kill you,” the executioner finished, grip tightening.

Their play thing had been taken from them. Their mother had been taken from them. Everything was being stolen from them, and enough was enough.

The outcast swallowed hard, silently begged forgiveness from everyone he had wronged, and turned to outrun them.

The princess loomed over the man she had shoved aside again. Her body moved without a mind commanding it. All she knew was darkness, and all she wanted was darkness. This trespasser from the surface was a blemish on that darkness, and she knew he must be taken care of.

Blood ran from his shoulder, useless and broken, grasped with his other hand as if it would help the pain. He seemed to tremble all over, and blood trickled from his nose and mouth, bruises and scratches decorating his face.

It wasn’t enough.

It wouldn’t be enough until he was gone.

The princess stepped forward, power running through her body, when a white blur passed the corner of her vision. Blinking, she turned her gaze and followed it as it dropped down to the ground, and landed carefully.

A flower.

Her flower.

The flower she had picked to give to someone...

The princess flinched, her gaze flickering.

Mere feet from her flower lay the man who had stood by her only a short while ago, as a steadily growing pool of red seeped out around him. His hand was outstretched towards her feet. He had brought the flower to her.

A blur. Sight twisting and shattering into a kaleidoscope of memories and reality.

The prince and herself, holding hands at their father’s wedding to the woman who would replace their birth mother, quietly comforting each other. Her, as a child, sneaking into his bed at night when she had had a bad dream. The small smile she could draw from him with stupid gifts. The precious, small smile that she cherished so dearly, because she so rarely saw it, and so wished she could see it more.

A feeling exploded within her, and her body seemed to snap in two. A voice called to her from far away, and it was her name, and it was a voice she knew well. It echoed in her mind, fighting against itself, and she knew it was not a battle she would win.

The power coiling round her fingers flickered like a flame in a breeze, stuttering and starting, flaring and diminishing. Her muscles creaked, her tendons snapping, and her bones seemed on the verge of crumbling.

Hatred swelled within her, for him, for herself.

Kill him. Save him. Destroy him. Forgive him. Kill him, kill him, kill him. Love him.

Turning her eyes with great difficulty back to the prince, she raised her trembling hands. He could barely stand -- it seemed it was taking all the strength he had to simply stay on his feet. He bled, and tears began to stream down her face -- feeling roared back into her like a dam breaking, and she felt the wetness on her face. She cried, and she tried to smile.

Her body tried to move again, against her will, her fingers trembling.

“I...’m... so sorry,” she managed to whisper past lips that tried to refuse her.

The princess would not hurt her brother anymore. As if to repent, the princess’ raised hands turned in on herself, and drove the darkness into her own chest.

A tidal wave of heat and sound boomed throughout the room, and everyone was forced to struggle to stay on their feet.

The twins, hovering over the outcast’s body -- already beginning to disintegrate into the nothingness his soul had been resigned to, and already, he was simply the forgotten -- dropped their dirtied weapons, and clung to one another, turning their faces away from the source with screams that were lost in the engulfing silence.

The knight and the empress were stopped mid-blow, hair blasting away from their faces, squinting against the assault, knees bracing against the pressure.

The traitor was knocked from his unsteady feet with the final cry of his sister’s name.

The wave receded, and those left in the room opened their eyes again. Around them all, the room began to shake, like an earthquake rumbling not just underneath them, but in every wall and the ceiling too. Darkness rolled off the walls like a flood, drips and drabs dropping like plaster shaken from an old building’s innards.

The twins, almost weeping with fear, fled from the scene, reduced to the children that they were.

The empress looked about in terror, her voice rising in a confused swell.

“What are you doing?” she cried, her hands dropping. “Stop it! Stop it right now---”

A breath.

The knight saw the opening and lunged forward. She drove her sword through the woman’s chest.

More blood ran down onto her hands. The light in her sword began to burn so bright it scalded her hands, but still she held on, driving it deeper. The empress choked out a sound, the battle of light and darkness sparking like a thunderstorm inside her chest. She looked down at the blade protruding from her chest, the wound leaking blood and tiny shafts of light, up to the knight.

At last, unable to bear the resistance, the knight pulled her sword free. Blood sprayed in a neat arc following the blade, and the empress gasped, hands flying to her chest as she doubled over. She would not die. She was a creation of her father’s, and a fraction of light was not enough to kill her.

Even still, pain racked her body, and she coughed blood onto the floor, as a great pull on her existence dragged her backwards.

“You... You wi---”

The knight never heard the end of her sentence before she vanished from before her very eyes.

The stone basin cracked, and shattered. Water like liquid glass scattered, streaked with shadows. The shackles, binding the man’s wrists broke clean in two, and he laughed. He laughed, hysteria building inside him, as the darkness on the walls began to seep downward and pool on the floor, snaking towards his feet and seeping into him. He felt his strength soar, and finally, after so long, his prison fell to pieces.

The traitor crawled forward, his face hot with tears he wasn’t aware of. His hands dragged him forward, blood smearing his story across the floor he left behind.

He reached his sister, prone and cold, a gaping hole of darkness in her chest, and a sob racked him so hard he almost passed out from the pain it inflicted on his broken body. With the last strength he had, the traitor reached out to her, his shaking fingers brushing over her hair. Her face was peaceful. The remnants of a smile lay across her lips, and somehow, she looked so terribly peaceful.

The traitor closed his eyes and wept, and finally, he remembered that he was a brother.

The knight sheathed her sword, her hands red and blistered, looking around desperately. Her mind was a painful haze, but she knew the room around her was shaking of its own accord, ready to collapse in on itself. She turned, frantic, looking for the princess, and only saw bodies lying strewn across the floor.

Her heart surged into her throat, and she staggered across the room toward the halo of light surrounding the other two she knew from the surface. It didn’t cross her mind to question how the prince had come to be here. He was simply there, lying by his sister in a sea of blood.

There was nothing left of the knight’s world to upturn, and when she came to a grinding halt, and the sight of the princess’ body seared into her mind, everything that was left simply disappeared. She was no longer broken. Simply empty. There was nothing left and she was a mere hollow shell.

She had failed. Failed to save her princess. Failed to save her friend. Watched her lover die for the second time, and then failed the one she had sworn to protect.

The prince still breathed. The knight grasped his wrist without feeling pain in her hands, without feeling anything, and hauled the man to his feet. Her princess would want her to save him. No matter what happened between them, the princess loved her brother more than anything. So, if there was one thing the knight could do, it was at least save him.

Supporting his weight, she moved as quickly as she could back to the ballroom doors. They passed through, and began the ascent back up to the surface, her mind clearing with every step upwards.

A heavy weight seemed to take root in her stomach. She had failed her princess. She had failed everyone. Nothing seemed real, yet, at the same time, it seemed to be far too vivid.

Emerging with a gasp to the sunlight and the air, the gates of hell slammed shut behind them and disappeared without a trace. Screams echoed all around, and frantic, worried hands relieved the knight of the prince’s weight.

Those of the royal court were frantic. They hurried here and there, screaming for healers, for nurses and medics. The prince remained unconscious, but breathing.

In the frenzy, the knight slipped away without a word, and ran for all she was worth, nothing more than a coward and a deserter.

In the depths of the underworld, in a bird cage that had once been used to house the light of the princess, the empress sat surrounded by the tatters of her gown. She sniffed, unable to cry. Father’s creations could not cry. They did not know how to. They were not made with the ability.

She gingerly touched the wound on her chest. Her brothers and sisters would laugh at her mercilessly for such a scar, and it would take her years to recuperate her strength. The empress sniffed again, a feeling like human misery washing over her.

“Empress,” came a small voice.

“Mother,” came another.

Raising her eyes to find two small faces peering in at her through the bars, fear etched into their expressions, the empress sank even further. She had nothing to say to them. Instead, she reached forward both hands, one to each of them, and small fingers grasped eagerly around her own, desperate for the cold, underworld warmth of contact.

“What’s going on?” the executioner whispered, holding her mother’s hand to her cheek, small body pressed against the bars of the cage.

“What will happen now?” asked the reaper, squeezing the empress’ fingers with both of her little hands.

“I don’t know,” was the honest answer the empress gave with the heave of a sigh, her voice quavering. “I don’t know, children.”

“My, you always were the sentimental type, weren’t you?” A voice rose from the other side of the room, deep and languid. The empress’ skin prickled from head to toe, the hair on the back of her neck rising. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in centuries. “Still, I can understand wanting children, so I shan’t punish you.”

The twins pressed against the cage closely, wanting to sink inside and be protected by its bars, and their mother.

“Father,” the empress said, unable to read her own emotion.

“Yes.” The man smiled. “I’ve returned. Are you happy to see me?”

“Yes,” the empress answered automatically. And she was. The misery cloaking her seemed to swell away from her, pushed up and outward by a love so strong she could barely recognise it.

Her father, her creator. He who had made her, and her brothers and sisters, in a human image, to remind him of the surface world he had been born to, though lacking in the colours that only the surface could possess. Her father, who possessed the antithesis of the light that had belonged to the princess. Her father, the Darkness.

“Welcome home, father.”

-- Epilogue --

The world has a delicate balance. Light cannot exist without darkness, and darkness cannot exist without light. The light is a gift from the goddess, but because it can only exist with its twin, dakness is also a gift from the goddess. Light is bestowed upon a chosen child, born into the world with a pure heart. Darkness is bestowed upon another, cursed from the moment they draw breath. They never disappear from the world, only move to a different container.

The man possessing the darkness had known the light in previous lives. The light had sealed him away to suppress him, so his power would remain in one place and not pose any threat to the surface. He was unable to reincarnate to a new body, only remaining a constant with his power dwindling, for centuries, when the light had chosen new lives over and over. All he could do was watch, locked away in his prison with nothing but murky scenes played on water’s surface.

With the light’s body destroyed and his prison bars broken, the time had come where he could finally reincarnate. He could finally be reborn to the surface world, and relearn how it felt to be human.

But now, he could not die.

The princess and her light had disappeared from the world, but still, he could not die. There was some fragment of her, some tiny shard of light still left behind. He could sense it faintly, the flipside to his own power, fleeing alongside a coward to some unknown place. That one, small, shard of light stopped both of them from finding new lives.

The Darkness had work left to do.

[carminanatura]

Hi, hello, WASSUP. Drizzle/Kaigara/Kiri here posting a very hipster wallpaper (I cannot photoshop gomen), in case you didn't really get to see our avatars in our video with Lillium Album <3

[haremshikkaku-blog]

Artwork above by our Kakeru! If you want to read/see more of Hoshino Mizuki, please vote for us, Harem Shikkaku, and Mirror's Deceit~ Vote Here! Please check out our Round 3 Chapter if you haven’t already :) Thank you for everyone’s support thus far~ -Madoka

[eskathewanderer]

"My mod is apart of a Masquerade Ball singing group known as Valentine's Desire Army, singing as Geneva. This is her April Fool's gift for everyone!!"

((It's nothing evil, I promise. this is what happens when you have a bunch of bored singers.))

[xbaciodellamortex]

"BDM behind the scenes, our fun adventures.  <3"

~Shade

Sketch by chatte

[wwwwwwwwwwchorus]

Official wwwwwwwwww Twitter Account

Due to popular demand (and we must never say no to popular demand!), we have now introduced a twitter account where you can talk to us (mostly me, because I am fabulous)!

wwwwwwwwww @ twitter

Hope to see you there darlings~*

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ehehehe...lEtz pLaY t0g3thEr~*

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[cielele]

MBCB-R2 Reviews (Part 2)

[dorky-puppy-blog]

【wwwwwwwwww】猿マネ椅子盗りゲーム を歌ってしもうた 【MBCB-R1】by wwwwwwwwwwchorus·

One of my favorites of Round 1 Eeeee~