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reilliane · 3 years ago

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Tyranny ⊱⊰ Genshin!Various

A/N: VILLAIN MC MEDIEVAL AU. Unlike my WIPs, this is just a lovely scenario I made up~ Kudos to the various Villainess manhwas I've been reading lmao- but wait, MC is an actual villain. Oh dear.

➸ Part Two — Three — Four

✤ she/her

✤ Death, blood, torture, and nudity (mentions)

✤ LIs in this section: Kazuha, Xingqiu

✤ LIs for the second part: Bennett, Alatus, Diluc, Childe

The world was a sinister place to be in. Sometimes, you wished you never opened your eyes to this place—but if you hadn't, you'll have never seen the faces of your older twin siblings. Aether and Lumine looked after you to the best of their abilities even if you all are gated with social standing. You three were orphaned peasants, but you didn't care. They loved you and you loved them, no one was going to tear you three apart.

But of course—life was wicked.

You were only eleven when it happened, your siblings thirteen. You've always been the sickly child, so your beloved brother and sister were out buying things with the money thrown to them at the streets. Oftentimes, they earned it themselves. So imagine your horror when you trudged out of your poor excuse of a bed, struck with fever, to the plaza where they've gone to—only to find them being beaten to death. Framed of stealing. But they would never steal. They would never and you knew that because they worked so hard day and night, helping around town in exchange for bits of money. You could not bear the fear that petrified you in place as Aether thrashed, yelling underneath the feet of strong, older men. He was raging, bellowing for the others to take their filthy hands off his sister, Lumine, who was screaming. Hands were all over her and you were so, so scared for her. And that was when she saw you.

"No! [Name], run! Get away from here!

The look on Aether's face when he realized that you were present gave you nightmares. It didn't take long before he was crying out for you to run- before they get you, too. The men were quick to silence both of your siblings, and when they began to stalk towards you, you ran. As fast as you could. To get help from anyone- anywhere! The villagers in town loved your siblings because they were helpful in all situations. So why-?

"Please..! My siblings- y-you have to help them!"

Why wasn't anyone helping? The stationed guards, too... why? Was it because you were a peasant..? No matter how much you screamed... how much you cried.. why weren't they doing anything? Even when you were grabbed by the hair and dragged back screaming, dizzy and hot from your fever, no one was helping. They were all looking away, afraid. It was cruel. They were cruel. Your siblings didn't deserve this. None of you deserved this. But at least, you thought as you were thrown against the wall, at least I'd be seeing them soon. Help came when you least expected it. When your vision was closing in to the darkness, help came in the form of a woman who beat the assaulters in less than a minute. She helped you. But your siblings were too far gone.

That woman was named Rhinedottir. A Duchess of the Kingdom. She gave your siblings a proper burial and took you in the Manor as her step-daughter, where you met Albedo. Your new brother, the same age as Aether. You avoided him at all costs, not wanting him to replace your dearly beloved siblings, and he was oddly fine with that. Your enmity was validated, after all. For such a child to go through to something... You found out that Rhinedottir hadn't taken you in as her daughter for no reason. She was cognizant of your burning hatred for the citizens, the guards—everyone. It was almost ironic how you loathed the people but not the nobility nor the Imperial Family. It turned out that Rhinedottir was searching for someone to help her overthrow the Imperial Family, someone who had done her wrong by banishing her from the Kingdom. All because of a mistake that could be amended. Albedo claimed the title of Duke at a young age and was hiding his mother the entire time, in on the plan to overthrow the royalty. He, however, had no intention of claiming the throne. You were the perfect person to add to the mix. So, you took the offer with no hesitance. You've got nothing to lose anymore. What else could life take away from you? It was about time... it was about time to take others' lives. It was revenge—revenge for Aether and Lumine, who could've been here with you. This mindset stuck around in your journey to queendom. It was difficult to learn things day by day, and at such a limited time, too. Rhinedottir had given you eight years. Eight years to learn everything. It was immensely difficult, having to catch up to studies taught at your age, from geography to politics. She was making sure you were the perfect fit—and you were. No, you are. Albedo had helped you along the way. He was silent, the complete opposite of Aether, but you appreciated his presence. He was there for when you would wake up from nightmares, reliving the memories of your siblings' deaths. And he was there, too, when you debuted into nobility eight years later. The same day your new family would create havoc—kill the Imperial Family. Leave no heirs behind. No hard feelings. It was a bloodbath.

Corpses upon corpses, skulls upon skulls, and sitting atop with a golden crown stained with blood was you.

[Name], the Bloodthorned Queen.

"A beautiful a rose she may be, remain vigilant of the thorns that you see."

Kazuha

The Kaedehara. Ah yes, you remember them. Once of nobility, now reduced to mere peasants—now the only son is a simple servant at your beck and call. To be honest, you do not know if he loathes you and your new family for claiming the throne and calling the only Kaedehara left to the Palace only to make him a servant. Still, he was no simple servant. He was proficient with the blade, so he served as your personal Knight, as well. He would draw his blade to anyone—whenever you want.

"My, it's lovely today, isn't it?"

Kazuha doesn't respond, already used to your rhetorics as the two of you stroll down the city. He is exactly a step behind you at the right, a second away from any of your commands.

The citizens cower at the sight of you, walking with well-refined grace, willfully ignorant of the fear you cause them.

It feels nice.

The smile on your face has been practiced ever since you accepted Rhinedottir's contract, so keeping it up as you enter the nightmarish alleyway is done with relative ease.

For a moment, it feels like the hems of your grandiose attire is being stained by the same blood that has spilled here years ago. You try not to remember Aether and Lumine's faces as you cross the alley, ending up in a specific section in the city.

You can never forget this place.

"H-Her Majesty, the Queen is here!" exclaimed a young girl who throws herself to her knees afterward.

The butterfly takes flight with its impeccable chain reaction a second later. Faces, faces you know and remember stare in horror as they started kissing the ground.

An old woman, the baker, the one you've gone to for help, shrinks when you walk towards her.

Each graceful step is followed by impending doom.

"Kazuha,"

The silver-haired man unsheathes his blade, the scintilla on the silver earning pitifully restrained shrieks. He goes to step forward, void of emotions, but you press a hand to his chest.

You open your palm and he glances at it once—before handing you the sword.

The woman groveling at your feet begins to clutch the ends of your gown, weeping.

Sneering, you angle the weapon by her neck.

"Did I ask you to soil my dress?"

She jumps back, shivering. "N-no, I'm sorry, my-my Queen! Please spare me, I-I'll do anything!"

Oho? How laughable.

"Anything?"

Your reiteration causes her to jolt, undoubtedly thinking twice over her slurred words, but she nods in a frenzy anyway. It is vexing how she can't remember you.

"Yes..!" she cries.

You laugh, tilting her head up with the use of the sword.

"Then die."

Her eyes started dilating, tears spilling as her cries echo in the silent district. There are plenty of onlookers, but none wish to come and help.

How does it feel? You ask in your head as the woman clings to your dress again, begging for mercy. Pitiful.

You were once the pitiful one.

"P-please, my Queen! I have a family!"

"Funny."

When she gets a good look at your face, she goes silent. There is a light of recognition in her eyes that has you smiling in triumph.

"I had one, too."

SLICE!

Splat-!

The screams from around the place are so infuriating. It's as if they haven't been watching the executions you've put out at least twice a month.

Or perhaps their fear is something different.

Perhaps it's because they never thought it would be them.

How unfortunate. You've just been saving the best for last. This whole segment of the city.. refused you once. They killed your siblings.

"Kazuha," he takes the sword from your hands and wipes the stray blood that has stained your cheek like a tear.

"Yes, my Queen?"

You close your eyes, relishing in the warmth of his palm. It's comforting, this servant—this Knight's hand. Sometimes you are aware how his optics hold the faintest trace of sympathy, but you do not care.

"Silence them all."

His hand departs from your cheek and he bows.

"As you wish."

≿————-　★　————-≾

Sometimes, you'll get lost in the waves of your memory. Where you are doesn't matter —in the great hall, the throne room, the barracks— your mind will still get swarmed.

More often than not, they are nightmarish fiends that seek to hinder you from doing anything. Sometimes, they work, most in at the strike of midnight.

The moon is high up in the sky and the kingdom is silent for now, everyone is at peace except for you. Unable to sleep, you stand by one of the palace's grand balconies, overlooking the city you once roamed in as a peasant.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

I did it, Lumine... Aether. The cold wind sweeps by as if they are responding, and you hold yourself close. If only you two are here..

They would hug you close, if they're with you—and you'll smile with them. But laughter now is a privilege.

It is something that wealth cannot buy, you know that the second you accepted the contract. Now, you are at the top with a bloodstained crown, you have everything.

But you're never truly happy.

There is no one to comfort nor assure you when you are sick and weeping, no one to caress your cheek when you feel burdened by the world.

But do you care?

You don't, for you know this to be the outcome after choosing to walk on the bloody path.

You do not care, but yet, you weep for yourself.

"If I may be so bold," someone's voice flutters in the wind as your chin is turned to the right.

Stunned that someone has caught you in a moment of weakness, your eyes are wide. Carmine pools reflect back at yours as the silver-haired servant reaches to wipe your tears with a handkerchief.

Kazuha? You flinch with a sharp intake of air.

He pauses at this, withdrawing that instant to dip his head.

"Punish me as you see fit, my Queen."

He doesn't move and you keep your stunned stare fixated on his bowing profile. It's midnight—since when did he appear.. ?

Ah, he saw you.. !

Hastily wiping your own waterworks, you swallow again, collecting your composure. "No need."

He visibly tenses, but you are already walking away, wanting nothing more but to retire to your room after being caught in a state of vulnerability. How encumbering this is.

Kazuha only uprights himself when the doors to the grand balcony shuts and he hears the click clacks of your footwear fading away.

He then flitters his eyes onto the handkerchief on his hand. There is an evident damp stain on it. Tears.

Truly, when he is giving the halls a last look over, he didn't expect an awakened Queen to head outside. If she isn't at the throne room answering the pleas, or at the study in debate with officials, she keeps to herself.

So, seeing a murderer cry alone in the dead of night is far from his expectations. He honestly thought he was dreaming.

But he wasn't.

Kazuha doesn't know the Queen's story, nor the reason for her waterworks, but as he pockets the handkerchief, there is a single thought in his head.

The Queen is much more human than anyone thought.

Xingqiu

Ah yes, the son from Feiyun. A noble house whose first successor had been slain after challenging your rule. Although the same age as you, Xingqiu, the next successor after the death of his brother, has since then had bad blood with the Khemia family. He's chivalrous, but what can chivalry do at your reign? He knows better than to disobey, so his enmity lies deep inside, unvoiced yet acknowledged. You do not bother with his hatred. He knows nothing about your upbringing.

"But my Queen, this is just too ludicrous to even consider!" Xingqiu is, as always, the only one in the Court of Exchequer who dares to speak against you.

From the head of the table, you arch an amused eyebrow, motioning for him to continue.

He does so without a beat, uncaring of the fearful looks cast his way.

"The Kingdom is already wealthy as it is, why must we raise the taxes twofold? We'd be extorting the citizens!"

Reluctant murmurs of agreement follow his exclamation and a haughty laugh spills from your wine-colored lips. With a snap of your fan, you point it to him.

"You miss a part. The nobles are not excluded from tax."

"M-My Queen!"

"Nobles will pay, as well!?"

"This absurdity.. ! Nobles have never paid taxes!"

Ugh, this chatter. As if Kazuha can pick up on your growing discontent, he unsheathes his sword, the sound scaring the officials into silence.

Grateful for the swift quietude that swept the room, you speak up again.

"You must be feigning idiocy, have you mistaken me for a fool?"

Xingqiu recoils at this, "No, your Grace!"

Hm? You narrow your eyes with a tight-lipped smile, "Did you all truly think that your crimes will go undiscovered? You lot, stealing wealth from not only the citizens but the Crown, as well."

There are a lot of figures who shrink when this is addressed and you sigh, satisfied. Caught you.

You aren't meant to attend these kinds of meetings, but you've gotten word from a trusted few about the unlawful exchange and thievery done by a handful of nobles.

"So since you're all bleeding with gold, anyway, then contribute to the Kingdom,"

You lay your fan down, content at their stammers.

"But wait... ! Don't you have reasons for deciding to amass illegal wealth? Of course!" you clap your hands as if recalling crucial information.

"Count Tricus, you were stealing so you can flee to the enemy Kingdom.. weren't you?"

Xingqiu gawks at this, his head turning to the shaking man in question. The latter is unable to hide his own fear.

The amber-eyed noble is wordless as the Queen sighs, her servant stalking off to the side, inching closer towards the mentioned Count.

"We are on the verge of possible war.. perhaps you were thinking of escaping to their safety after divulging the plans of the Crown? Oh, that simply won't do, Count!" she snaps her fingers and Kazuha traipses to the back of the man.

"You must've forgotten who I am, Tricus."

Snap!

"Wait, wait, your Majesty- I only stole a tiny portion! I could return it with interest, sp-spa-!"

Slice!

Splat!

"I am your Queen."

The beheaded drops to the floor, the separated head rolling like dice across the table, staining blank sheets crimson. Horrified gasps ring in the room and Xingqiu is frozen in place.

He hasn't witnessed an execution this up close.

How- how can the Queen decide something so quickly without warning!? He feels his blood boiling. To carelessly execute someone without a proper trial... !

"My Queen, you are being too hasty. Eliminating a noble when it's supposed to be decided over by the Parliament is imprudent!"

"Hm?"

The [c]-eyed Queen smiles his way, her cheek resting on her palm. It takes him all that he can to not yield to his emotions.

After mindlessly beheading his brother... now she's doing the same thing to possible innocents!?

Her stare on him is unbelievably heavy and it's only when he realizes that he's locking in on the eye contact does he avert his gaze, knowing how much the royal looks down upon someone challenging her stare.

He can't. He can't die. His brother's legacy...

"It appears that I've made someone nauseous. Well," one command from the lady and knights storm through the doors. "Throw them all in the dungeons. Await the Parliament's verdict."

"I-" Xingqiu falls back to his seat as the knights start to yank nobles and officials from their chairs, some going as far to haul them when they stubbornly cling onto something. I'm innocent!

Swarmed with fear and disdain for the unfairness of everything, he slams his eyes shut, submitting to the biased Queen who wants everyone to be skulls and bones at her feet.

It seems that she wants to remake the entire court from the ground up, and if it takes killing them all off, she'll see to it.

The sound of stomping greaves goes louder... and louder until the last screams of those in the room are pulled out, and someone is holding him. He's next.

A giggle makes him snap his eyes open, only to flinch when he sees none other than the Queen herself holding him by the arm.

"Why so fearful, Xingqiu?" she whispers as her servant places down a pile of filed papers. "You are innocent, are you not?"

Heat rises to Xingqiu's cheeks—be it of vexation or fluster—as the [c]-eyed Queen peers down at him, her lips daringly close.

"Your chivalry is admirable... if only you extend such quality to those worthy of it."

He furrows his brows. Is she implying that his fellow noblemen are not worthy of respect? A Queen she may be, her audacity knows no bounds.

[C] eyes flutter to the papers on the table, her fingers reaching to grab him by the face and make him look at the compilation of parchment.

"Written there are the crimes of the arrested aristocrats, please yourself with the knowledge of their felonies. Since you doubt your Queen so much, don't you?"

"That's.."

The fingers grabbing his cheeks slip off and the female royalty gives him a look over, complacency all over her features. Without saying anything else, she exits through the enormous double doors, her servant following close behind.

Xingqiu is left behind in the now-empty conference hall, clutching the documented evidence in his trembling hands.

a/n: OH GOSH THIS WAS LONG. But I suppose it was because of the interlude, too. villain mc! no thoughts, just villain mc >:))

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Tyranny's Scrying Glass　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

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minzart · 3 years ago

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hahaha lol for the fairy tale au! what would happen if yuu brought their phone with them, lol imagine if all of the guys have no technlogy an yuu just shows them the stupid shit they did back at NRC. hahahaha, lol them seeing an alternate version of themselves acting like dumb teens gives me life

Embarrassment for one thousand years Lilia put the phone down

Fary tale boys: what is this thing?

Yuu: it's a phone

FT boys:?

Y: it's like a TV

FT boys: ??

Y: it shows images... pictures... like, they move

FT boys: ???

Y: look I'll show you

It isn't his fault that Yuu forgot their phone in his sight, the magicless human had show him and the other the wonders of this strange object, however they only mentioned some "moving images" that they have of them, but never actually showed, so it's no wonder Riddle got a little bit curious

His face is as red as his hair, no mad grim in sight, only pure and delicious embarrassment

He knows it isn't him but by the seven he can't belive any version of him would have done that

The video was simple, Yuu just showing around Heartslabyul (his kingdom version of their world he presumes), in the middle of the night (a rare occasion they informed him before) and right there, caught like a thief in the night, a younger self of himself, face full of tart with a half eaten plate in hands

Yuu's voice: isn't that the tart for tomorrow's unbirthday party?

Riddle, visibly sweating: ... if you don't tell you can eat them now too

The video ends, but endless images of him and Yuu together follow, unbirthday parties, eating, studying, punishing two teens that he swears he recognizes from somewhere, and HOW THE HELL HIS OTHER SELF CAN STAND AND HOLD GRIMM SO CASUALY LIKE THAT

Leona on the other hand has no shame, and at the first opportunity he had, got Yuu's phone and started to mess around with it

Eventually he got to the gallery and would you look at that, a folder with his name on it, bet it's some incriminating thing that would put his plan into ashe- ...

A photo that "he" took of Yuu with scribbles on their face and he's showing his tongue to the camera? Wait.

A swap and the next is a video:

Ruggie's voice, he's opening a door revealing Leona's room: C'mon~ no pain no gain

Yuu, sneaking in: Ruggie if I die, you better tell great tales about me to your children

Ruggie: sure sure

[Yuu gets closer and closer, almost to the wallet, and then they stumble and fall into the bed]

[... Leona rools to the side and traps Yuu into a bear hug]

Yuu: holly shit...

Ruggie walks in, picks the wallet: have fun prefect

Yuu: you little-... he purrs... Ruggie for the love of the seven send me a copy of this stupid video please

It's strange to se yourself in a video that never actually happened, and strangest is how... comfortable you seemed he can't remember the last time he slept so heavily without nightmares or... doubts

Floyd was cracking his butt off, looking at the strange thing the human had brought, that caught Azul's curiosity, and oh how he loathes it

[It's a video of "him" dancing out of beat, with all the graciousness of a flying table, "he" looks so uncomfortable it hurt, and then Yuu joins in and how they can dance more ridiculously than himself is a curse he wishes to never fall upon]

[Yuu just grabs his hands and they spin like fucking children, and then Floyd, out of all people, jumps in and crashes them to the floor... it's the most lively laugh he heard out of "his" mouth]

Floyd: aw~ at least this other you is cute

Azul: shut up and give me that

No, he doesn't look trough all of the photos and videos like a masochistic dumbass who pines for some fun he can't have thank you very much... he just takes a peak

Yuu doesn't find their phone for at least a week

Jamil at least asks to see the videos the first time

He realy liked the one of "himself" obviously showing off his cooking skills to a set of students

Alone he finds more:

[A boy with red hair and a heart in his eye that he doesn't recognizes and one of Azul's twins are holding pies]

Ace: any second now

[He enters the room and the two teens blast of the pies ]

Floyd and Ace: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMIL!

[His other self looks FURIOUS and retaliate the other two in a food fight]

Jamil: HHAHAHHAHAH BET YOU WEREN'T EXPECTING THIS SUCKERS! (He uses magic to conjure more pies)

Honestly, Jamil doesn't remember the last time he looked so free

Yuu falls into the floor tired: how.. the hell... do you hold that position... for so long

Jamil just casually sits. Not tired at all: you get used to it

Yuu: but seriously, how do you do that spin thing with one arm so easily???

Jamil does the spin thing: this? >:)

Yuu tackles him into the ground and starts to trickle him: YOU SHOW OFF!

He can't help but chuckle himself, it's just... comfortable... such childish manners he couldn't do... something inside him feels happy that least a version of himself could have that

Vil is in a bad mood when he comes across the phone, so to hell with decency, he needs a distraction before he does something he won't regret in this instant

The video he finds is... something he hadn't expected really

Yuu: Epel put that down

Epel: but Yuu he is ASLEEP. Do you know how rare those chances are??????

Yuu: do you want to die? Vil never falls asleep like that, let him take a nap a little longer, guy's got it ruff already

Epel: ... weren't you the one who made that rule? The first to fall asleep in Hamshackle gets pranked. Remember~

Yuu: that just applys to first years

Epel murmuring: mimimimimimi-playing favorites already- I'llshowyouwhenyoufallasleepfisrt

It's stupid, it's a horrible position, he has no make up on, he's pretty sure he saw bags under his eyes... but even so, he looks so... young... relaxed... comfortable

Compared with all the poor photos he sees after it's a big contrast, in all of them he looks perfect, absolutely stunning, however there are the odd ones out, all of them he looks a mess but somehow the one who took the photo made him look so... genuine... so strangely genuine

The moment he finaly sees a photo that "he" took with Yuu, for some goddam reason he wants to cry, it's not his perfect smile that greets the viewer, it's a strange one, one he learned to forget long ago, a awkward imperfect smile that had always felt so easy for him to do when younger... he wanted to never see that phone again in his life

Idia took an instant interest in that strange object, and it's no wonder that he asked Yuu to explain what the hell that was, the first of the seven to actually see all of the gallery and chats but Yuu doesn't need to know that

It entertains him to no end, look at all those chickens dumbasses, he wishes he could use this as black mail but Yuu would miss their phone

He cringes at "his" videos tho, and at the same time wonders if he could be this relaxed as his otherself seems to be with the human... did... did he just petted Grimm AND DIDN'T LOST HIS HAND can he do that too?

Yuu: yes Ortho make him pretty!

Ortho: so your hair won't get in you way big brother!

[Idia is completely transfixed in his game, in his hair is a bunch of pink bows, when he wins he screams in victory and finaly notices his hair stated]

Idia in a good mood right now @ yuu: Am I pretty?

Yuu rolling with this only chance they have to immortalize the moment: The prettiest boy I have ever met

Idia: good

He worries about Ortho's diferent appearance, but the smile in his little brothers eyes that he see reflected every time in all pictures calms him down

He finds strange some interactions, his other self is so more... soft... is all he can describe when he see the interactions, yes he has sass and a dark sense of humor as always but something feels diferent, more human, more... compassionate? Specialy in the latter videos were his other self looks more his own age

... It must be just the lights.

Malleus isn't the one who interacts with the phone. LILIA IS AND SOMEBODY PLEASE GET THAT THING OUT OF HIS REACH

Eventually he see the videos and photos, specialy if Lilia found them and is just ecstatic to embarrass further his sons, those moments that never happened in this world... but could... the moments of vulnerability and innocence that each and every one of them needed but couldn't have... but still can have

Melleus finaly understands more the familiarity that Yuu's interact with him in so many levels the second he sees "himself" smile fondly at the little human that is trying with all their might to "take a picture of them at the same frame without him bending down, only to realise they were filming the whole failure... and laugh at their own mistake"

Malleus, head stuck at a maze of branches: Child of man if you don't stop laughing I swear by my grandmother I will put you on fire

Yuu, no signs of stopping laughing: B-but Tsunotarou You look-OhsevenIcan't- YOU ARE BAMBI TSUNOTARO *SNEEZE* HOW DIDN'T YOU SEE THE TREEE HOW-

Malleus, face burning so bright: yes the king of the forest now help me

Yuu, trying with all their might to move: O-ok Oh Geez oh fuck, you teleport for years how did this went wrong-?

[The video is shacking the hole time, it cuts to Malleus sting in the Ground, a hand (Yuu's) picking the sticks and leaves in his hair]

Yuu: I will never let you live out of this... Bambi~

[Malleus ruffs and pouts... but his little smile is captured by the camera]

It's strangely captivating, to see oneself look so genuinely happy and- as Lilia said- finaly young, living and acting as teen, as a dumb and stupid child that a king can't bee but should be at least once in a while, but he never could

A friend

That was his wish

A friend was his other self wish too

A friend to his other self was granted

Loliness was all that was given to him

And now, this friend stood there, in his world, acting like nothing has changed, even if they know things are different, even if they know this world is more cruel and distrustful, even if they know they are being used...

Something inside Draconia revives that day, a strange warmth of hope... and dreams... and wishes... and awkwardness

Noone sees the little changes

noone notices the tiny gestures

Noone understands the sudden mercy

Noone but one Crow whose hope might have returned at the simple show of care

...

Won't you stay a little longer?

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst fary tale universe #twst tftu #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #hahahahahhhaha oh Yuu- they won't let you go. not after this

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i-have-a-wonky-eye-too · 4 years ago

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A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother.

Medieval AU

Princess Y/N Stark of York New must marry a man chosen by her brother, by the time she is 21. Her brother's council have the perfect man in mind, one that is terrifying and hell bent on having his Queen. But Princess Y/N's heart belongs to another, and luckily so does her hand in marriage.

'A princess is far more powerful than a king, my love. You have the power of merging families and kingdoms. You have the power of carrying hopeful heirs to the throne. You have more power than you know...'

Bold italics are flashbacks.

Series warnings: swearing, medieval views on women, arranged marriage, smut, bloodshed, violence, 18+ readers only

Part warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1

Sometimes you found yourself wondering if you were living the life you should be.

You never had the chance to build a relationship with your mother, a relationship you were desperate for the older you grew. During childbirth due to her age and complications, she passed away. And for that reason, your father couldn't stand the sight of you. You were his second child and a girl no less, there was no need for you or the loss of his beloved wife and Queen.

Although your father died when you were just five years old, the most part of you was glad of it. You had hardly any memories of him, but you were certain you were unhappy in his presence.

Your older brother and Crowned Prince of York New, Tony, reassured you daily that your father did love you but you never quite believed him. Even when Tony had been crowned the King of York New, you were unsure he was telling the truth. You knew your brother loved you, unlike your father, it showed in his brown eyes that he did.

"It's just you and I, Little Princess." Tony smiled lovingly and softly at you as he brushed away your fallen tears.

You sniffled, burying your face in his chest. "A-Are... Are you... you, go-going to sen-send me a-away?" You sobbed.

Tony sat back on the cold stone floor of the throne room and pulled you into his lap. "No, Little Princess, no! You're going nowhere, you hear? I need you by my side. You're my Queen." He whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You and me, okay? You and me."

~~~~~~~~~~

Years and years of Tony's rein passed by before you knew it, but Tony kept his word. You were by his side. Even when his advisors or council tried to have him send you away, he made it clear that you were going nowhere until you were 21 years old.

Even when he took under his wing a young orphaned boy, Tony made it clear you were staying put.

The kingdom was in chaos. There had been a attack the castle and surrounding villages, but your armies were stronger, powerful, and mighty. You had been locked away in the highest tower to protect you whilst your brother fought bravely alongside his men. They fought day and night, long into the following day.

By the time word was sent for you to be taken down to the throne room, you were fast asleep.

"Princess Y/N," A soft voice whispered as you were shaken awake.

Your small eyes blinked open and looked upon the face of the guard that had been assigned to looking after you. "Happy?" You yawned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Sir Hogan, or Happy as you called the slightly grumpy man, chuckled softly. "Come, Princess, His Majesty as called for you."

"Tony is safe?" You jumped up, running for the door.

You ran as fast as your little eleven years old legs would take you and didn't stop until you reached the large wooden doors of the throne room. The guards opened the door barely in time for you to dash through them.

"Anthony!"

Tony grinned as he bent down and scooped you up in his arms, hugging you close to him as he held the back of your head. "Little Princess, I'm happy to see you."

You giggled pulling back and looking at his scratched and bruised face. "What took you so long?" You pouted.

Chuckles from the King's closest friends and Knights echoed around the room as the man himself placed you back on the floor. "My apologies, My Queen." He bowed to you making you grin. "I have someone for you to meet."

Your brow knitted together, "Oh?... the head of your enemy?"

More laughs echoed as Tony rolled his eyes as he stood. He held his hand out towards Sir James where a little boy about your age stepped out from behind him. "Princess Y/N, I'd like you to meet Peter... We're going to look after him." He smiled.

Your eyes widened a little. "... He's a boy." You pouted.

Tony nodded, "He is."

"You're getting rid of me, aren't you?"

The young boy gasped, shaking his head. "Don't be silly, Princess. Everyone knows you're not allowed to go anywhere."

You scowled at the boy. "I'm never silly..." You folded your arms and looked away.

Sir James rolled his eyes with a scoff. "Definitely your sister." He muttered so only the King could hear.

Tony shot his friend a glare. "Little Princess," Tony knelt in front of you. "This boy's family was... killed. He had no parents already, but his Aunt died tonight. There was no one left to look after him, the village was, practically destroyed... What would you have me do? Send him away? Let him die?"

You let out a sigh, looking back to Peter. "Do you like horses?"

He nodded, "I like swords too."

Your eyes lit up. "What about bow and arrows?"

Peter nodded, "I'm the best." He said triumphantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You scoffed, "You haven't seen me, yet."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

~~~~~~~~~~

As the years rolled on, your friendship and bond with Peter only grew, as did the council's worries. They decided it was time Tony took a wife and gave the kingdom a Queen once more. Another feeble attempt of them trying to have you sent away. 'It's time you had an heir, there's no need to have the Princess here.' And as he always would do, Tony told them no. You were still the rightful heir to the throne whilst he had no Son and Heir.

You loathed this part of the evening, where one man tried to up the other with gifts, all to impress the King and make himself look superior to others.

Tony leaned over the side of his throne and nudged you, "Look happy, it's your... cow statue, birthday gift." He mocked the gift currently being presented to you, just as bored as you were by the process.

You lowered your face towards your lap and bit back your giggle.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Steven of Brook," The court announcer introduced the next person to present their birthday gift to you.

"King Anthony, Queen Virginia," The blond-haired Prince bowed before you.

"Prince Steven," The King and Queen greeted their friend, happy to see him after so long.

"How are you this evening, old friend?" Tony smiled.

Prince Steven smiled in return, "Very well, thank you, Your Majesty. How are you?"

Tony nodded, "About ready for another drink," He breathed out glancing down to his empty cup.

You let out a small snicker trying to keep up your ladylike facade, knowing Queen Virginia or Pepper as she was known to her close family, would scold you for being improper.

Prince Steven turned his gaze to you and bowed again, "Princess, may I say you're looking breathtakingly beautiful tonight," He teased, knowing how flustered you could get.

You smiled through your blush. "You do flatter me, Prince Steven."

He let out a soft chuckle. "May I present to you my gift?"

"You may,"

Prince Steven nodded and turned his attention to the servant waiting patiently. He took a velvet square box from the young boy and approached you. "Happy Birthday, Princess." He smiled softly at you as he handed you a box and took your hand in his and bowed to you. "I hope you find it as beautiful as I do. My only fear is, your beauty will outshine and render it ugly." He pressed his lips against your knuckles and made you blush once more.

"You're engaged, remember, Prince Steven," Tony teased, glancing over to the brunette woman who was watching the interaction like a hawk.

"Anthony," Queen Virginia scolded your brother from his other side, putting a smile on your face.

"Please ignore my brother, Your Highness... Fool," You hissed playfully at the King beside you, making him chuckle.

Prince Steven stepped back with his hands up to show no hard feelings. "I know what His Majesty can be like, Princess." He chuckled softly, "Please, open your gift, and ignore his Royal Majesty the fool." Prince Steven grinned mischievously.

Tony scoffed dramatically, making you giggle before you opened the velvet box carefully and immediately gasped, "Oh, my," You ran your fingers over the beautiful necklace that laid inside.

"Prince Steven, this is most beautiful." You smiled, memories of your first time in Brook rushing back to you.

Prince Steven let out an audible sigh of relief. "Is it the same colour? As the sea in Brook."

You nodded, looking up to meet his waiting gaze. "...Yes. Thank you,"

Prince Steven smiled, "You're welcome, Princess. I'll allow you to get back to your other guests." He bowed again, "Happy 16th Birthday, Princess," He whispered before he left to be by his fiance's side.

The guests continued to present their gifts to you and the King, and although they were all unique and beautiful in their own way none were as beautiful and meaningful as Prince Steven's.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Brock of Lower East,"

Your blood ran cold and the great hall fell silent at the mention of that man's name. The dark-haired Prince smirked as he approached you, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Your Majesties," He bowed (if that's what you could call it) to your King and turned his attention to you. "How beautiful you look tonight, Princess Y/N."

You held your head high keeping your gaze fixed ahead of you. "Thank you,"

Prince Brock turned his attention to Tony, "I do hope you've taken my request into consideration, Your Majesty."

Tony's brow knitted together. "There's no need, Prince Brock. My sister is not of age yet and, I'm sorry to say this but you are not who I intend for her to marry."

You gasped loudly drawing the attention of those closest to you, turning in your throne to gape at your brother. "Tony, please-"

He held his hand up to silence you, "Present your gift to the Princess, and we'll discuss no more of this business."

"Very well." Prince Brock nodded with a tightly set jaw as he clicked his fingers at the servant. He snatched the much smaller box from the shaking boy's hands. "It seems somewhat pointless now." He stepped forwards and placed the box in your hands, letting his fingers graze yours. "But, I will buy you a thousand and more if it means you becoming my wife."

"I said, enough!" Tony slammed his fist against the armrest of his throne, it echoed around the silent hall.

"Please, my love," Queen Virginia placed a comforting hand on her husband's arm to calm him.

You scowled down at the box, opening it to find a hideous engagement ring. "I can not accept this-"

"You must. It is your birthday gift... nothing more, thanks to your King."

"Thank you, Prince Brock," You thanked him before Tony could speak, sensing he would most likely order his head to be off or something to that effect. You sighed as you closed the box up, handing it back to the servant. You smiled kindly at him and thanked him.

Prince Brock eyed you before glancing over to where Prince Steven was stood with his fiance and his trusted best friend and Knight, Sir James Barnes. "You know, it's almost unfortunate, you being here tonight."

"I'm afraid I don't follow, Prince Brock. How can my 16th birthday celebrations be unfortunate?" You scowled at the man.

"Well... on one hand, we are graced with your ever-growing beauty and charm, but if it was not for the unfortunate death of your father and King, brought on by those... we shall not mention, you would not be sat where you are." He smirked triumphantly as you visibly paled at the mention of your father.

You felt Tony shift beside you and out the corner of your eye, you saw Sir James begin to disappear away from prying eyes. Anger boiled up inside you, "HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" You shouted and raised to your feet before Tony could stop you. Silence fell over the court as you glared daggers at the prince before you. "How dare you, speak of my father? How dare you show my family and I disrespect, in our own Castle, our own Kingdom.

"The past is the past, Prince Brock, and we do not judge others today by the actions and misunderstandings of others then," You turned and moved over to the servant snatching the Prince's gift back. "If you can not show my family and I the respect we deserve and can only continue to spit evil among our celebrations then I must ask you to leave, Prince Brock, and take your unwanted gift back." You heavily dropped it into his hand.

Silence resumed throughout the great hall as King Anthony stood from his throne and stood behind you. "You heard the Princess, Prince Brock. Leave." He nodded his head towards nearby guards. "Please escort Prince Brock out of the Castle and our Kingdom." Tony placed his hand on your shoulder as the Prince was removed.

"You'll regret this, Stark!"

Once Prince Brock had been removed, you moved over to where Sir James Barnes was stood with Prince Steven and his fiance, hoping the celebrations could continue.

"Sir James, would you care to dance?" You smiled kindly up at him.

Sir James began to blush and glanced to Prince Steven who was being tugged closer by his fiance. "Shouldn't you be asking one of the princes to dance, Your Highness?"

"There'll be plenty of time for that, Sir James. But for now, I would like to dance with a kind man, I hope will be a good friend of mine one day." You smiled.

Sir James began to grin before he nudged Prince Steven's side. "Tough luck, Princey." He jabbed at the blond prince making you smile.

Prince Steven chuckled, "Have fun, Bucky." Prince Steven smiled warmly at you with a nod. "Princess,"

You nodded, "Prince Steven," You looked to his fiance with a faux smile, "Princess Margret."

Sir James lead you into the middle of the crowd as the music began to play, and slowly the two of you began to move together.

The two of you danced in comfortable silence until Sir James cleared his throat, "I must thank you for your kind and brave words, Your Highness." Sir James whispered.

"They were the truth, Sir James."

He nodded, "Still. I know what my father did all those years ago, isn't the easiest thing to forgive."

You shook your head. "But it doesn't reflect the person you are." You smiled up at him. "You're a good man, Sir James... a far better man than Prince Brock." You reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before excusing yourself and left through the french windows with Peter.

"Buck?" Prince Steven approached the brunet knight. "Everything okay?"

Sir James nodded and turned to face his best friend and Prince of Brook. "More than, Your Highness."

"You seem to be getting on very well with the Princess, James." Princess Margret spoke from beside her fiance with a hidden look.

Sir James nodded, "She's a very kind young princess, Your Highness."

Prince Steven nodded, "That she is, Bucky." He smiled as he turned to watch you walk out of sight into the gardens.

#steve rogers #king steve rogers #Medieval au #King Steve Rogers x Princess reader #Knight Bucky Barnes #Knight Sam Wilson #King Tony Stark #Medieval avengers

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bookquotes-20 · 3 years ago

Text

Crashing

Fandom: Folk of the Air

Ship: Jurdan

Rating: T

Fluffy Angst

Little had changed since Jude’s ascension to the throne. As when she was Seneschal, she coordinated the kingdom’s affairs with unparalleled grace and tenacity.

Perhaps the greatest difference was the respect and admiration that shone in the eyes of her subjects and colleagues. Some entertained the sentiment freely while others offered their appreciation with reluctance, but even those that loathed to admit it, could not deny that their Queen was remarkable.

Oh, and of course, the revels.

As Seneschal, Jude could still make up excuses of work to avoid attending the unending festivities that were often separated by little free time. Cardan was never far from “a party mood,” as it was called in the human world. And when she was considered a mere accessory to the crown, she had no direct obligation to attend each meaningless celebration.

Now that she wore said crown, the lavish parties were considerably more difficult to avoid.

Jude still did not attend them all, nor did she attend them in their entirety. She would, though, make an appearance alongside her husband at the beginning and end of each.

It was a thrill like no other, walking to the dais boasting their thrones, her hand firmly in his, both draped in finery.

He would brush a kiss across her knuckles each time before they took their place together, and his voice would boom across the hall to begin the merriment.

For years, Jude had watched Cardan’s lithe form adorned in lush garments and glittering powders as he maneuvered through galas and feasts and festivities. And yet still, he managed to take her breath away each time.

First with his otherworldly beauty, for their was no other way to describe it. She hesitated to call it Fae beauty because he truly surpassed all the Fae she had seen. The slant of his high cheekbones accentuated by the faint shimmer of gold. The sensuously dark eyes rimmed with kohl that only served to increase their depth, through the contrast they provided against the white around his irises. When a sheen of intoxication covered them, they glimmered like the night sky. The wine he indulged in throughout only served to darken his sinful mouth, accentuating his lips against his pale skin. Unfortunately, Jude was acutely aware that she is not the only one who has noticed Cardan’s painful beauty.

Beyond this carefully crafted beauty, though, through this new lens placed upon their lives, Jude saw something else that set her stomach aflutter in ways she could not hope to explain. Her disinterest with the merriment gave her the opportunity to watch her husband with rapt interest. Observe in ways she had not let herself indulge before.

She watched Cardan charm their guests and dignitaries, smiling wide and tipping his head back in laughter at their stories. His lighthearted demeanor and mischief coaxed grins from even the most stubborn of their guests. Enough so that they’d miss the coy turn to his lips, the sly gleam in his eyes that indicated he was there for more than celebration and mirth. He would masterfully put all around him a perfect ease and walk away having gleaned whatever political advantage he sought. Every. Time.

It fascinated Jude to no end. Her husband was cunning. And no one was the wiser.

The thought enticed a chuckle from her chest.

The sound seemed to catch Cardan’s attention. He turned his head toward her and gave a small smile as he started up the dais to her.

“Would you grace me with a dance, my queen,” he said, eyes shining. She smiled and took his outstretched hand.

His gaze never wavered from hers. Not when he maneuvered them through the crowds to the center of the room. Certainly not when he placed her hands on his shoulders and his own firmly on her waist. Absolutely not when his fingers pressed with careful deliberation against the small of her back to arch her towards him.

“You’ve danced with quite a many people tonight, my king.” Her voice was mostly teasing. Although, a seasoned ear — and his was most definitely seasoned when it came to Jude — would swear there was the faintest undertone of jealousy. Cardan’s lips twitched into a smile.

“I have only wanted a dance with one person all night, and I have her in my arms.” Jude rolled her eyes in attempted annoyance, but the barest pink on her cheek betrayed all.

He raised their joined hands to twirl her. If he deliberate cut the spin short so she would fall against his chest, neither of them mentioned it. The longer they danced, the more the world around them faded away. As it often did when they were together.

The King and Queen had a way of losing themselves in each other. The time, the location, the circumstance was of little import. The ever burning spark between them would flare into a wildfire that burned all else out of their consciousness.

Flint and tinder indeed.

That’s why both startled when a loud cough beside them brought them out of their reveries. Jude nearly jumped backward, she truly would have were it not for Cardan’s firm grasp on her. They turned to see The Bomb waiting with an amused smile.

“Pardon the intrusion, lovebirds — I mean Your Highnesses,” she corrected with a giggle. “If I may borrow the Queen for a moment?”

Cardan threw The Bomb an annoyed glance, as if to say Really? but it only served to fuel her laughter. Jude squeezed his hand apologetically before starting to pull away. He held on to her till the last second, reluctant to let go, desperate to maintain the physical connection between them.

“I’ll see you in our chambers,” Jude whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before The Bomb pulled her away.

The Roach and The Ghost are waiting for them in the shadows of the exit arch. The Roach glances behind the two, suppressing a laugh at their High King who looks downright forlorn at the loss of his queen. What is the expression the mortals use? Whipped?

“What’s wrong?” Jude asked as they approached the spies. “Is there immediate danger?”

“No immediate danger,” The Roach reassured, “A messenger just arrived from the Court of Teeth with a letter. Nothing too serious but it does require a prompt response. They would like to meet with you and the Cardan in one week’s time regarding expanding and fortifying trade routes between the Court and Elfhame. Since it is a four day journey, we thought it best that we send the messenger with a response immediately to avoid rushed panic.”

Jude nodded, “That would be wise. Take me to him.”

In nearly an hour, she had received the message, formulated the perfect response, sent the messenger on his way, and planned the critical details of the summit. The Roach shook his head in amazement, a small smile curled The Ghosts lips, and The Bomb just looked on in respect and adoration. Their Queen was frustratingly talented. When it came to everything except her own safety that is. Her lack of self-preservation was a source of anxiety for them all.

“Would you like an escort back to the revel?” The Ghost asked softly. Jude smiled and shook her head.

“No, thank you, I think I’ll retire for the night. Enjoy your evening.”

They nodded and bid her good night as she started towards the royal chambers.

A deep breath left Jude’s chest as she closed the doors behind her. Her hands rose to her temples, fingers massaging the skin softly.

A brief moment passed until she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist. She didn’t hesitate to melt into her husband’s embrace, allowing his body hold up her own. Her hands covered his as he placed a soft kiss to the skin of her shoulder. Jude found herself thanking Tatterfell for choosing a sleeveless gown for the evening, held up by an intricately embroidered chord of fabric wrapping around her neck.

She tilted her head to look up at him. “You returned from the revel quite early.” Her brow furrowed and she scanned his face for signs of exhaustion. “Are you tired?” He shook his head.

“My heart was elsewhere.”

The phrase was simple, but the weight of his gaze made it anything but. The corners of Jude’s eyes softened.

“I believe I still owe you a dance, my king.”

Cardan’s eyes brightened. “I believe you do,” he took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, “my queen.”

She turned in his arms to face him. His arm didn’t move from her waist, simply shifted to better accommodate her.

“Music?”

Cardan smiled and pulled her in closer. His cheek brushed Jude’s and his lips moved to her ear. He began to sing softly.

Jude’s eyes widened in amazement. His voice.

It was unlike anything she had heard before. Deep yet soft, like waves of velvet washing over her. Something in her body thrummed at the sound.

Resonance, was the term that came to mind. It was as if his voice was a frequency her very soul was tuned to. A sound made just for her.

Her forehead fell forward to rest on Cardan’s shoulder. She heard the smile in his voice as he swayed their joined form gently around their chambers. Jude felt the music vibrate through his body against her own.

“You have a beautiful voice,” she whispered against his shoulder.

“Thank you, my love.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“What song is it?”

“It’s an old Fae ballad, a tale of two lovers whose very natures pitted them against one another.” Cardan spoke low in her ear. Even in the privacy of their chambers, it seemed as though he was hiding the words from the rest of the world, speaking only to her heart. “Just as the lovers constantly fought with each other, their hearts fought them. Their souls were made for one another, yearning to be united. Despite the world of circumstances separating them.”

There was a heavy silence. “I thought of it often in your absence,” he admitted.

Which one? Jude wanted to ask. During her exile? When she was taken by the Undersea? She pulled back to search his eyes. Or perhaps, even in their childhood? When they claimed to feel nothing but hatred for each other.

She rose on her toes to press her lips to his. A silent thank you for his trust, his admission. He kissed her back with more fervor than she expected. Jude braced a hand against his neck, fingers creeping into his dark curls just briefly while his lips moved against hers. Cardan pulled back slightly, breaths coming heavy as he rested his forehead against hers. His brows were furrowed, lines of tension contouring his face. Like he was reliving the pain of losing her all over again. Her fingers traced his face, smoothing the lines away.

“Every time I saw you, there was a fire that lit my veins,” she says into the space between them. “As you said, I always thought it was hatred.” Jude paused. “But I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why that fire burned so much brighter when I saw another girl in your arms.” His eyes snapped open at that, lips parting in slight awe. The corners of Jude’s mouth twitched. Success, she thought as she saw the pain slowly melt off his face as mirth creeped in.

“My queen,” Cardan began, his eyes sparked anew, “were you perhaps, jealous?”

“Were might not be the right term, are is more appropriate.” Jude scowled slightly. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck absentmindedly. “I still don’t like all the women that try to weasel themselves closer to you, with no regard for your wife’s presence.” She felt a tremor run up his spine at the word. Wife.

Jude paused, hesitating before reminding herself of Cardan’s admission to her. One piece at a time.

“They’re all quite beautiful too,” she muttered under her breath, averting her eyes.

Cardan looked at her as if he didn’t quite hear her correctly.

“My love, you can’t possibly be insecure about your appearance?”

“I mean, I’m not blessed with their Fae beauty or anything.” Truth be told, Jude had never cared about her appearance in front of the Folk. Her battle physique and training were most important to her, they still are. But she would be lying if she said she didn’t occasionally reflect on the differences between her and the beauty of the women that threw themselves at Cardan.

“Jude, look at me please, love.”

When she did, her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. “I understand insecurities are normal, everyone has them. Gods know I have more than most. But you have absolutely nothing to concern yourself with.” His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her closer. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. No one else has the power to take my breath away with a single look. To make my heart race with a single touch. To undo me with a single kiss. You have ruled my heart, my mind, my very soul long before any of those women you speak of.”

Jude’s breath froze in her lungs. She knew Cardan loves her. He knew she loves him. They had whispered the words against each other’s lips and skin in dark nights of their chambers, spoken them through their eyes when their gazes locked across the throne room, laughed them to the wind as they danced in the royal gardens (at Cardan’s request). Yet the raw emotion in his words right then, the surety in his voice, nearly cut her open. She wanted to return the sentiment, to tell him what he means to her, but the words froze in her throat. A flash of hatred coursed through Jude at that. Hatred directed at no one but herself. For still freezing when it comes to laying her heart bare before him, the one person she trusts. The one person who deserved her vulnerability. Instead, like a coward, she caught onto his earlier words.

Jude snorted. “Please, you don’t know what the word insecurity means when it comes to looks.” She poked at his high cheekbones jokingly, before tracing her finger down his sharp jaw. “You’ve never looked less than perfect a day in your life.”

Cardan’s hand rose to cover hers. His gaze pinned her in place. “And yet when I saw true contempt in your eyes, the day you returned to Elfhame, I felt uglier than I ever have in all my days.” He flashed back to the hate she directed at him. It felt like a steel net, weighing him down, closing his airways. He could hardly breathe under the weight.

She brushed her thumb over his cheek.

Tears in his eyes were the last straw. Jude searched his face, her thoughts racing. No more, she decided. No more hiding. Cardan deserves better. He deserves more. He deserves vulnerability and to be loved freely. He deserves no more armor. Jude steeled her heart and something shifted in her eyes.

“It’s interesting that you saw contempt,” she murmured. “Considering I couldn’t bring myself to be angry with you the way I wished to.” Cardan’s eyes widened in surprise. The corner of her lips twitched. “Unfortunately, hating you has never been easy.” Jude stroked his cheek again. “There are days I question whether I could truly manage it at all.”

There’s a lightness in her eyes he’s unaccustomed to. No. Not a lightness, but rather the absence of weight. Jude does not often voice her feelings, but when she does, there is hesitance. Fear and reluctance swirl in her heart and heavy her tongue. The words she normally would have had to force out, flow today from her lips as naturally as water. Her lips ticked upwards, settling into the ghost of a smile.

Her arm wound tighter around his neck, decreasing the distance between them, while her other hand remained pressed between his hand and his cheek. His own arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer still. Her mouth rose to his, just a hairsbreadth from touching it.

“Did you ever truly hate me,” she whispered.

“I believed I did.” Cardan’s gaze never wavered from hers. “I convinced myself the intense emotion that clouded my every thought was hate, because it seemed like the only acceptable answer. I tried to nurture those thoughts further towards darkness and hatred. At least that I understood.” His temple pressed against hers and a breathy chuckle escaped his chest. “What a fool I was.”

Jude paused a moment before asking another question.

“Can you tell when I lie?”

Startled again, Cardan thought. He contemplated his answer. “I believe so.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t think I can put it into words,” he said. “Truthfully, I don’t think I myself understand how I know. Perhaps it is a product of watching you with such scrutiny all these years. There are parts of you I find myself so attuned to that it surprises me. Very little of myself is conscious when it comes to you, my sweet nemesis.” His thumb brushed back and forth over the skin exposed by a cut of her gown at the waist. The ministration in conjunction with his smooth voice is mesmerizing. She finds herself losing awareness of everything but him. “Your eyes usually give me my answer. As you speak, whenever I look in your eyes,” he moves her hand from his cheek to his heart. “something in here just knows whether you are telling the truth.”

She locked her gaze with his now.

“I love you.”

His breath froze in his throat. And he knew, something deep in his heart knew, that it’s true. He returned her honesty with a kiss. Whispering his greatest secret against her lips.

“I love you, my dearest Jude.”

#jealous!jude #why are they so adorable #I’m obsessed with writing them #angst #fluff #fluffy fluff fluff #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #tfota #tfota fanfic #jurdan fic #high queen jude #tfota fic #booklr #ballroom dancing

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illogicalthinking · 3 years ago

Text

The Burn Within

warnings: Some NSFW language (Remus), blood/ bruises mention, hurt no comfort and self hatred

word count: 1883

authors note: for this fic i used a prompt by @just-another-ts-prompt-blog which can be found: here

hope you enjoy!

Whilst the ‘light’ and ‘dark’ sides preferred to keep their distance from each other, they had to share certain parts of Thomas’s mind. For example, they shared a common area, and the imagination was split into two separate realms, much like Roman and Remus: Whilst one contained multiple castles and kingdoms living in harmony with each other, the other was a prison of living nightmares.

However, this arrangement did not bring them any closer to each other. The light sides tried to avoid the dark sides at all costs. Remus often played pranks on the others such as swapping the sugar out for salt, spiking drinks with inedible products, and stealing utensils.

This made meal times extremely difficult to control: Virgil would hiss and hide, Patton would try and fail to diffuse the situation, Janus would watch in entertainment and Roman was never around to witness. The only side that could keep the sides from murdering each other was Logan.

Today seemed like one of those days.

“Virgil could you please come down from there, Remus did not do anything” Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was far too early for this, Logan muttered to himself whilst taking a large sip of coffee from his “worlds best mum” mug.

“He walked in whilst we were making coffee, that’s more than enough reason to hide. What if he put baby powder in my drink again? I’m going to die because of him!” Virgil hissed from his place on the top of the fridge, hoodie covering his frantic eyes.

Virgil had been more paranoid than usual after the recent video. He had fallen back into his old habit of hissing at the other sides when stressed. It concerned Patton greatly.

“Oh please sunshine, there is a higher chance of me fucking a woman with 3 arms than there is me spiking your drink again, I just walked in!” Remus exclaimed as he passed Virgil on the fridge to the dining table.

“Whilst Remus vocalized his argument in a very unprofessional manner, he is right, we have been awake for approximately 1 hour and 15 minutes whereas, by the looks of it, Remus has only been awake for around 10 minutes.” Logan made sure to maintain eye contact with Virgil whilst voicing his opinion to ensure Virgil knows he’s telling the truth. “There is nothing to worry about Virgil, you are safe”

“Thanks, L”

“You're welcome, now please come down from there, it is very dangerous to be sitting in places you are not supposed to be sitting”

After the incident this morning between Virgil and Remus, Logan remained seated in the common room, his back straight against the recliner with his laptop placed on his lap. He was researching content for a Sanders side video they will be filming in the evening. He did not do this in his room due to not wanting another incident like this morning. Logan is the only side that is willing to deal with the incidents, while the other sides (particularly Janus and Roman) are too impatient and often make the situation worse.

Throughout the whole day, Logan continued to research the link between intrusive thoughts and depression. Thomas had recently been showing signs of this mental illness and Logan wanted to bring it up to him via a video. However, there was a small issue, Logan would have to have all the other sides present including Janus and Remus. He needed Janus because Thomas listened to him more than Logan (much to the latter's dismay) and Remus represented intrusive thoughts. It would only be fair to have Remus take part in a discussion about him, even if the light sides had a problem with this.

Happy with his research, Logan snapped his laptop shut. Due to none of the other sides entering the common room after this morning's incident, Logan concluded it was safe to retreat into his room because he was not needed to split up another argument yet.

To Logan's annoyance, it was time to film the video for Thomas' youtube channel. After the events of putting others first, Logan had started to dread taking part in videos. This was because Janus proved he could take his role as logic, and remain loved and respected whilst providing the necessary information Thomas needed.

“Enough of the self-loathing, Logan, now is not the time,” Logan muttered to himself as he sank down into Thomas’s living room. This evening is going to be a long one for all of the sides, especially Logan.

Logan didn’t know how much longer he could handle the arguing.

None of the other sides were listening to his facts or solutions, too busy pinning the blame on each other for Thomas’s current problem. Roman and Remus were currently swords to mace, about to start a physical fight, Janus remained by Patton’s side trying and failing to calm him down before he turned back into a frog and Virgil remained curled up on his side, his hoodie covered the majority of him but Logan could still see him shaking.

Something had to shut them up.

I will shut them up, Logan thought to himself. Logan became alarmed by the sudden aggressive thoughts. He may have a short fuse but he wasn’t usually aggressive, not without guilt eating away at him. However, this time Logan had no guilt attached to this thought and he shivered at the realisation.

This time was different he reminded himself and with that thought, Logan snapped

“Will you all shut up and listen to what I have to say for once!” Logan all but screamed at the top of his lungs, ensuring he was heard over the arguing.

The silence that came after was enough evidence for logan to continue:

“People who suffer from depression often get stuck with a single or even several intrusive thoughts that arise frequently. These types of repetitive intrusive thoughts are known as 'rumination'.”

“The whole point of me organising this stupid video was to bring this statement to Thomas’ attention and guide him with the help of Janus to seek professional help. You all arguing like a group of immature school children was not part of the script, now if you would excuse me I am going to make myself useful for once and leave” Logan huffed, glad to get that out of his system. Even after snapping, the guilt never choked him like it usually would, which disturbed him greatly.

“Logan, wait!” Virgil pleaded, but it was too late.

“I said I was leaving, now fuck off and leave me alone” Logan hissed at him, the guilt still not reaching him.

Happy with this statement. Logan sunk out of the living room back to his room, leaving six shocked and petrified individuals behind.

“What just happened?” Thomas said to nobody in particular.

“I do not know but it’s best to leave him alone, let’s just get this shit show over and done with” Virgil muttered, far too anxious about Logan to care about the video.

Logan what happened to you. Virgil thought.

When Logan rose up into his bedroom he could not hold it in anymore. All of the pent-up frustration from being ignored for months became too much for the logical side, causing him to slam his fists into the nearest wall. However, without realizing it, Logan’s fist struck a family photo of all the sides surrounding a very happy Thomas.

For some reason seeing the shattered photo frame on the floor and the glass sticking out of his broken skin caused something within him to break.

For the first time in months, Logan allowed himself to cry out all of his frustrations.

After what seemed like hours, Logan finally got up from his place on his bed. He noted that his eyes were swollen and his hand was covered in dry blood and bruises. He did not want to get up and clean his mistake, but he knew he had to because the others would ask questions and he did not want that. Logan did not want the other side’s sympathy. It was a little too late for them and Thomas to care about him but he had to stay because Thomas needed him. They needed him.

“Do they need you though, Logan? Come on, you’re just as useful as me right now and you know it.” A harsh voice sneered into the cold room. Logan immediately knew who it was.

“Be quiet Orange, no matter how much Thomas tries to push me aside, I won’t leave because I am his logic, and Thomas needs his logical side.

“Come on Logan deep down you know I am right, let me prove it to you”

“Let’s just say you were correct in your hypothesis, what happens after that?” Logan sneered. He was far too exhausted to deal with this right now, and he just wanted to sleep.

“Let me show you”

“If I trusted you I would be breaking trust with the others and Thomas and I cannot do that. Thomas’s welfare is my number one priority and I cannot cause any harm to them, no matter how much they have hurt me”

“Oh please Logan, Thomas has not given a shit about you since the beginning. Where is your video, Logan? All the other sides have an episode focused on them, even Remus! And Thomas hates the guy! Do something for yourself for once in your life and listen to me, I can make them listen to you but you have to trust me,” Orange whispered to Logan. Logan knew deep down that what orange was saying was correct, he did not just want to admit it to himself. Until now, that is.

“Fine, what do you have in mind?”

It has been approximately one hour since Logan had sunk out of the video, and Janus was getting worried. No matter how much he tried to get a hand on Logan and summon, he couldn’t. Logan was unreachable

The twins were arguing and Patton and Janus couldn't find a middle ground. Finally, they summoned Logan, needing an impartial side. But when he appears, something is different.

He was wearing a long-sleeve dress shirt, much fancier than usual. He had streaked eyeliner and his glasses were different. He was not wearing a tie.

“Logan? What happened?” Thomas asked, hesitant like he almost doesn’t want to know.

Patton had his hand to his mouth. He spoke up after a moment, “Logan, you look like… like a dark side. What did you do?”

Logan’s voice was quiet and soft like if he spoke too loud he might break. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t try to do this, I-” he cut himself off, taking a deep, steadying breath. “I have become obsolete.” His voice broke on the last word and he clamped his mouth shut.

“No, Logan!” Thomas immediately disagreed. “We need Logic!”

Logan nodded, eyes still trained on the floor. “Yes, you do need logic. But . . . you don’t want me”

And with that, Logan sank out for the second time that night, leaving nothing but a cloud of smoke that soon vanished, just like he did.

The others could not do anything but feel the burn within.

What had they done?

#logan angst #logan sanders angst #logan sanders #Janus Sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #character!thomas #sanders sides

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chipper-smol · 3 years ago

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Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Pale Jester Chain 1

Prompt: PJ finds himself alone with the Grimmchild after the bug who finished the ritual abandons the Grimmchild charm

By @alaska-ren-works

“Oh, the red casts great and terrifying spells Ones which no one knows The drums go bang and the bats ignite ‘Lo and behold a toad!”

The Pale Jester hummed to the beat of his steps, the atmosphere of King’s Pass having a little color now, PJ thinks. Little taps from crawlids and squawks of vengeflies adding a little harmony to his cheery bells. Ah, to have an orchestra of his own to play and dance to. Never the mind, there’s always his friends he could sneak away with. He’s sure Brumm wouldn’t mind if he borrowed him and his accordian. Brumm was always a lovely companion with his somber mood. Hm, now if only he could remember where he left his lute he’d be on his way to play with the troupe.

The jester paused when mued noise echoed from a tunnel above. Shrugging, his bells jingled as he scaled the stone up and up while wondering what this little mystery was. A statue of a great bug with red eyes a-plenty loomed from the jester's place on the edge, guarding over a single opened chest. The noise echoed from its hollow depths.

A grub? It must be. Unless something else can make such high-pitched sounds.

The jester jingled quietly to the chest, preparing a little song to cheer the poor sap out. Who would leave a child in a desolate place such as this?

He'd have a word with the young one's parents. A strongly worded one at that. If he had a child, he would never abandon them when they needed him most.

Indeed. You have done far, far worse. Strange. Is the wind howling voices? What a peculiar land this is.

The sound whimpered louder and at this the jester froze. It couldn't be. No, of course not. Master had made sure the bug was to be trusted. They would never... They would never do such a thing...!

He hurried and his claws dug into the chest's metal. His heart stopped when he saw what, or who, was inside. The black gleaming horns. The scarlet flame stuttering under glassy eyes.

No.

"Grimmchild?"

A stuttered whimper his only reply.

How dare that excuse of a life betray our child.

Grimmchild did not respond when the jester picked them up, cradling them in his puy-sleeved arms. Dark red stained their cheeks. Dark, sorrowful red.

"Child," he gently cooed, frowning when they hardly moved their head. "How long were you left here?"

No reply. What have they done to you?

“Let’s go home, little one. I am certain you are tired after your long adventure,” he sang with restrained tones, his fury marbled with his grief for this little one. "I have a few tricks I want to show you! Made them perfect while Brumm learned how to juggle. He's not the most dexterous of us all but perhaps one day he can handle flaming darts! What fun that would be!"

No reply.

The Jester trembled with every rocking of his arms for the child. He remembered how the child laughed and beamed when the bug took them to gather the scarlet flames. The child sang with such glee at the bug's performance with the master. The child grew more brilliant with every step this bug took with them down to the kingdom's last flame.

Come to think of it, he had not seen the bug once the heart was defeated. ... No.

"O, child," the jester piped. Taking one step, a stalactite fell from above. His hand moved on its own and in moments, the rock turned to powder under his clenched fist. The child merely curled in his arms, eyes dimming to a close. "Child, you need rest! Once you wake, you'll be in such a lovelier place with the most delightful of games to play with!"

That... fiend... left the child when the ritual was over? Like a mere toy to be buried once play time ends?

That abomination will pay. For every tear this child shed.

Every. Damned. One.

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By @lametinkerer

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By The Grimm Chronicler

At first, it was easily muffled by all the noise outside. Then he heard it. A thud, a sudden cry of desperation.

Investigating at the source, there he found it, hidden away within a small chest. A child. A weeping, frightened child, clinging to his robes so tight and desperately as though the mere mention of legging go could mean that they would return to the chest and be trapped once again.   "Oh, child..." The Jester whispers. "Who could do something like this to you? How long have you been there?" Questioned the Jester, though he knew he'd receive naught but silence. Embracing them as gently as possible, he rocked them evenly back and forth until they stilled, having given in to slumber.

His investigation has proven itself to be quite uncomplicated. Within no time, he found out about the child's former guardian and how they were so utterly left aside to simply rot away in the confines of an ornate chest in a secluded area. The mere thought brought forth despicable, hideous emotions he never thought himself capable of experiencing.

Anger. Pure, unbridled anger.

He swore that he'd find the one responsible for this sick malevolence and bring them to justice. Mayhaps even the Master would offer his aid. It mattered little whether he did so or not, the Jester sought naught but to seek out the evil being and he would do so relentlessly. He promised that. As he held the child in his hands, their crimson eyes staring innocently at the funny man with a strange makeup and even stranger outfit and pointy prongs on his head, they giggled at the sight. "That abomination shall pay for every. Single. Tear you ever shed. I shall see to it. They will not go unpunished for such atrocity."

The Jester brought them closer to him, closing his eyes. They giggled at the contact, embracing him back.

"I promise you."

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By @lagt-duck

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By @al-the-frog

the unexpected isn’t always desirable

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By @largeegg

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By @wasabi-arts

The audience departed, the stage left empty, not a sound. Usually Brumm’s pleasant tune filled the halls draped in red with faint echoes of the notes, but tonight remained silent. It wasn’t often the bug was left with the distinct lack of noise, with no joke to entertain himself or company to keep. All that greeted him was the faint whispers of an audience no more, the spirits that haunted the troupe.

And to think at first you loathed him- a creature created by the king of all nightmares after humiliating your very existence as the king’s little fool. However. . now? You feel pity for him while you watch the jester in red with his head in his hand, sitting on the edge of the stage. He’s weighed by a misery he can’t understand, memories he’ll never recall, all in a world through the holes of a stice striped mask. The stamp of the Grimm Troupe.

On the stage, the jester just stared at something in one of his hands, round and white. Normally, it's something you’d dismiss- perhaps a relic spawning a curiosity that would be short lived- but the curled carving, the white charm shape- it was unmistakable. Something that he and his wife had once shared, then split in two- was suddenly regained.

Several emotions filled your mind as you, in your ghostly shadow of self that remained trapped in the nightmare realm bound by a red string, inched closer to your physical counterpart. The kingsoul. Last you remembered- no, last you knew you held it on your cold dead corpse in the palace long since gone, hidden within a lingering dream. The other half was to your wife, if she even still considered you as much after everything you had done.

Tears ran down his face while he laughed, unaware of the peeking figure standing by the entrance- Grimm, though not the one bound by nightmares. Though the cloaked one’s look of pained sympathy wasn’t where your interest lay.

“Ah. . . .h . a . . ha h.” He laughed through tears, some falling on the kingsoul he held in his hand. “Isn’t this hilarious- laughing over a rock!”

He cringes at calling it such a thing as you do, staring with a mix of disgust and sadness, watching the red flame’s reflection flicker in the charm. The broken crown even seemed to sag even more, a dinky replica of what you yourself once were.

“Did-” A pause from the fool sitting on the edge of the stage- his stage that was built for him in this troupe of misfits. “Did she give this to me to make me cry? Hah-ha! M-Maybe it has a crying effect.”

Your annoyance and anger switched into a deep sadness, watching your counterpart laugh through tears, tears of which he knew not where the source was.

“That’s not what that is-” You say to no one, letting out a sigh as you turn away, responding to a world that wouldn’t hear you regardless. “You won’t know, and I doubt anyone would tell.”

The jester and the peeking Grimm didn't respond, as you expected. Though, finally your counterpart peeked up, catching the taller, monstrous bug in a spare glance. In an instant he hopped up on his feet, charm in hand, greeting the master of the troupe with four open arms- the charm in one.

“H-Hello hello!” He cheered, voice cracking through his tears, the unfamiliar sense of deja-vu crippling his very being. He bowed. “Why, my performance as long since ended, but if my master himself wants another show- then I shall prepare for one-!”

“That is not needed, dear Jester.” Grimm said simply, waving a hand to pause the jester’s actions, finally deciding to enter the room. “While I do enjoy a good show- I didn’t wish to disturb your thought.”

“Thought. . ?” The jester questioned, stature changing from fun to a distinct slouch. You huff- and he looks in your direction, though he doesn’t see you. You’re merely a shadow haunting this jester’s mind. Soon enough his focus drifted back to the round object in his hand. “Ah.”

“Are you feeling alright-”

“Splendid! I am doing fantastically, Master!” He exclaimed as you scowled. Master- what a disgraceful word for a wyrm to call such a makeshift god. Though he’s not a wyrm, nor are you. Not anymore. “I have just been given a cute little charm by a fair lady deep within the gardens. Well- half of it! The beauty said I had the other half, haha!”

Grimm cocks his head, in worry and curiosity, making you wish your counterpart- the one born for the stage and as a mockery of yourself- wasn’t nearly as tone-deaf.

“Hm, you had the other half, she said?” Grimm asked, moving closer to the jester.

“Why, yes! And you’ll never believe where I found it- in some dark little place deep below. How odd!” Grimm let out a ‘hrm’ in response as he spoke. “Found it on a corpse of all things- a hollow shell of armour! Don’t you find it curious, Master?”

“Hmm- that is quite odd. What do you plan to do with it?”

You watch the jester flinch in a rather odd fashion at the question.

“Well- I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll hang it on to it- or perhaps I’ll wear the darling little thing! Maybe it will help me cry on command, wouldn’t that be hilarious?” Silence. A long, agonizing silence greeted both for a moment, the red flame glittering in the dark room. All these tents had for light were shades upon shades of red- you quite hated the color.

“I suppose it is.” Grimm said, extending out a hand. Long, bony, black. He seemed to lack a lot of the segmentation that typical bugs had. “Why don’t you allow me to hold on to that until you decide what to do with it? We certainly don’t need such a thing getting sawed in half during one of your splendid performances!”

“Why- of course, Master! If you would like it- who am I to refuse such a request!” He hummed back, reaching out to give it to the taller bug. The action disgusted you. Giving away such a precious charm that was your’s and no one else’s, let alone to that made your blood boil.

“Are you going to let go?”

You turn, finding that the jester hadn’t let away his grip of the carved white stone. In fact- it was almost like he couldn’t.

“I--I apologize, Master. I feel like. . . I don’t want to let it go? That’s not very funny, though! Ha-ha! I-”

“Then you can keep it.” he said, the slight smile of his pointed teeth not hidden under his collar for once. “It is yours- so you will do with it what you wish.” The Pale Jester turned his gaze from Grimm to the charm once more, turning it in his hands once. Twice. “However, let’s not focus on that- you have a grand show tomorrow, and I would love to view it from the audience this time around.” He turned to leave with a bow. “I expect an even grander performance than before! ANd I am greatly looking forward, my dear Jester. Have a pleasant night.”

“Goodnight, Master.”

And with Grimm gone, you look back on your counterpart, giving a joyful wave with a solemn, sad expression on his face. The charm lay loosely in his hand. And for once, you wonder what he was thinking in that separated mind of his as he left the stage.

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By @ded-lime

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By @vivifrage

The wyrm was in tears.

In times like these, it was even harder to remember that the broken, warped Jester dancing around the Troupe’s grounds used to be these lands’ god-king. Cold. Stoic. Unfeeling, many claimed. Ruled by and ruling over pure logic and calculation.

Easily enough disproved with sufficiently annoying input; Grimm’s own memories trotted out tales of delighting in that knowledge over and over. The wyrm was a stick in the mud, a hardass, arrogant and prim and so fun to bother until he was literally incandescent with anger he’d deny up and down and up again.

Yet here the wyrm stood, muddied white carapace given a pink cast from the tent’s fabric all around, tears still slicking the black tracks in his mask, giving them an obsidian shine. And for the life of him, Grimm couldn’t feel that spark of delight in seeing the pale bastard showing some kind of emotion.

(The Heart certainly could, but its smug pulse felt oh-so-alien versus this dismal thing dampening all the rest of his core more thoroughly than any rain could soak an eternally-burning god.)

He couldn’t quite bring himself to a smile, even a polite one, when the Jester hopped over, something clutched tight in one hand. He settled for an inquisitive look, a soft tilt of the head, eyes alert and bright, hands raised in greeting.

The Jester waved back, in that brief moment as cheery and oblivious as ever. But the moment passed, and he hesitated, hands sinking back against his sides, the closed fist kept close to his collar.

Whatever he held, he pressed it to the lower third of his mask, be it in hesitance or reverence.

Or both.

Grimm let him take his time.

It was the least he could do, really. For the both of them. The wyrm to find his words, Grimm to settle the dread rising in his throat. That rather particular sort of dread, too, that one that anticipated an ugly, ugly task.

“Master?” the Jester asked at last, “May I tell you a story?”

“Of course,” Grim said. It was not a lie. It felt like it was.

“Well, once upon a time, there was a- a-” He clicked his fingers together. “Something bright, almost shining. Resplendent. White, white as snow or ash or death. A tree! No, a tree’s root. And she had crystals for eyes, but they’ve long clouded.

“And in exchange for a laugh, a smile, and a goodbye, she told the funniest tragedy. One of two lovers who saw in each other the world, and whose deeds drove them apart. She gave me a token of their story, of their love, and told me to do with it as I will.”

He opened his fist.

Cradled in his palm was half a charm. White, a colder color than even pale ore, so white and with such a sheen that it seemed to cast the tent in winter tones, the most direct reflections twinkling like evening stars. All save for a black stripe cutting across the face, through the hole of the eye, dug through the detail in the same way the marks on the Jester’s and Grimm’s own masks featured their otherwise plain faces.

Grimm’s stomach dropped. He clenched his jaw to keep it from hanging open. Deep within his chest, the Heart sang in shock, confusion, and uncertainty.

That was wrong.

That was so, so very wrong. In so, so many ways. In ways the Jester could not know.

His eyes traced the mark from halved forehead to fractured jawline. That should not be there. It never should have been in the Jester’s hands but that should not be there-

The Heart swallowed his burst of flame-hot anger, echoed it back with the roar of a furnace.

Grimm put on a polite face. It just so happened to bare his teeth.

The wyrm continued.

“Personally, what I would like to do is mug the other half of the other lover’s no-good corpse!” He twittered with laughter in a way the dour king never would have. The sound just made his carapace crawl. “Ah, but that would require finding it, and the Ritual has us so busy, Master. It must be a matter for later fools.

But, in the meantime, I don’t- It hurts. Such a story. It’s cliché, is it not? The doomed lovers? I could tell you six like that with my tongue tied, and I’m sure you could tell me twelve right back, and we’d both laugh at how silly they all are, to think their love could ever be enough. Perhaps it’s something about holding this little trinket but-” He closed his fist again, held it to his throat. When he spoke, his voice was choked, and he pressed two hands to his temples, another two covering his mask. “The sight of her stung my eyes and I drank her words as sorrowful wine, and now my tears fall and my tongue bleeds in all the pretty reds-”

“Jester?”

The wyrm stared at the waiting hand Grimm held out between them, eyes slowly rising to meet his. There was a spark in there, shadowed behind those vacant carvings in the mask, something bright and cold staring back at him. He smiled at it, and let the chill sink into his teeth.

“If it upsets you so, may I hold it for a time? For your respite, of course. I seek no undue pain from my people, and perhaps I could look into this local legend myself, so we could discuss it together. Besides, it is quite the curious artifact, and I would love a closer look.” His hand bobbed, palm up and curved into a perfect receptacle for the little broken charm.

(Well, not perfect. Only two beings in the world had ever had hands for that.)

Wordlessly, the Jester handed it over. It clinked into Grimm’s hand, its weight off-balance in a way that itched at his mind. And, for everything he knew it was, it struck him as so mundane. Like there should have been something to it, holding a wyrm and a root’s wedding charm. Even half of it. But rather, the thing felt…

Dead, it felt dead.

Comatose, at best.

(Or worst.)

(He glanced back at the Jester. The spark had faded from his eyes, replaced with mellow-warm embers.)

(The Heart thudded its relief.)

“Thank you,” he said, and stepped back.

The Jester blinked, visible only as the slightest hint of eyelids moving behind the mask. He stared at his empty palm, touched the tracks of his mask and rubbed the lingering wet he found. “Was I upset?”

He stared up at Grimm, searching his face. “What was I upset about?”

Grimm offered only a shrug before he turned away, and left the Jester standing alone.

“Brumm,” he muttered, clasping the other bug’s shoulder as he passed by, “Prepare a fire. I must commune.”

Brumm hummed in that low, doubtful way he always did when he sensed Grimm was up to something he ought not to ask about directly. “Are you sure you can’t rest for it? I’d not blame you a moment’s respite.”

Grimm paused, reached back, took his wrist and squeezed it gently. “I know. But I must be of clear mind for this.”

His thumb rubbed the halved charm, stroking up and down the new line carved into its face. The Jester’s story turned over in his head, biting in like a sliver of carapace caught between the teeth.

The dread grew sour.

This could not go on.

The Jester didn’t come to dinner. An odd happening; his appetite easily rivaled Divine’s, and he knew it had been suppressed. Allegedly for how recognizable a wyrm trait that was. But also, the Troupe only had so much in their stocks.

Still, a Troupe member in poor state was a Troupe member in poor state, and Grimm sought him out.

He wasn’t hard to find, exactly. Easier than it used to be by far. The Jester was loud, extroverted, and flashy. But even in his quiet moments, he had a pull to him.

No matter his background, though, Grimm should not have found him in the first tent he checked, hidden away under the first curtain he got a suspicious feeling from.

The Heart sank, staring at the Jester’s back as he curled up, sobbing into his hands. Something was going horribly, horribly wrong. The Jester was the dancing fool the wyrm had shown himself to be, that was all. If he cried, it was when something got too close, and Grimm had told the Grimmkin to ensure he stayed very clear of anything that could trigger that again.

Grimm sunk to the floor beside him, letting the curtain fall back into place. It brushed his back, the fabric thick and heavy, and absorbed everything but their breaths and the sound of the wyrm’s sobbing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, with all the fireplace warmth he could muster. His hand ghosted against the Jester’s back, bumping over the rings dangling where wings once laid.

(Going back up, stroking again, this time pressing harder, he swore he felt slight swells where the buds should have been burned out.)

“I don’t know.” Desperation bit through the wyrm’s voice, through all the tears and despondence. He shuddered, sucked in a raspy breath. “I don’t-”

He turned his face away, pressing his knuckles into his eyes. He keened, the low sound of a hurt creature, kept close and intimate by all the fabric they’d hidden in.

Grimm just rubbed his back, and let him find the words.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have. Perhaps he should have taken a more directorial role in this two-bug production, and told the Jester what was going on, what his poor soul ought to be feeling. How he was new to the Troupe, and some of the changes took time to settle in, he would be fine. Most everyone had been upset for at least one Ritual, especially their first, and sometimes it was hard to place those feelings, wasn’t it? It would pass, it would get better, it meant nothing, really. Not in the long run.

And, if his memory ran long, that sometimes stories just struck a chord, but he need not be upset at simple trinkets and tragic stories with doomed lovers. They were all so silly, weren’t they? Thinking that, in the end, their love would matter.

Why, he ought to set all of it out of mind, and come to dinner. Surely he was hungry?

His tongue laid still, his mouth stayed shut.

“I- I miss- I don’t know. Someone? Something? I don’t know. I can’t find them, they’re slipping through my hands every time I reach. But Master-” His voice broke, cracking into a plaintive cry. He clutched at his chest, hands pawing uselessly at the fabric over his heart. “It hurts.”

Grimm clucked his tongue and cooed. His arms wrapped around the Jester, drawing his form, at once limp to his touch and much too tense, close, until he tucked him against his chest. Head held to heart, listening to its steady beat. All four arms wrapped around his abdomen, knees bumping against his thigh, while Grimm held him and drew his wings from their resting place to wrap around them, shielding the Jester even further from the world beyond.

“I’ve got you,” he purred. The side of his jaw brushed against the wyrm’s horns. “I’ll make it better.”

The Jester shifted in his arms, head tilting up til Grimm found himself cradling its back. When he stared down to meet his eyes, he found that spark staring back, cold as ice and with just as sharp an edge. “How?” he asked.

It could have been a coincidence. A slip of the tongue, the familiarity in how he spoke, with a voice like a lone gust of wind trailing through a cavern. The weight to just that one word, the melancholy it steeped in.

Grimm fought the chill clawing at his back to give him a smile. Gently, he rested the wyrm’s head against his chest again, where the Nightmare Heart beat. “A nightmare feels so very real, does it not? As false as it may be?”

(Again, the sickly sweetness of a lie on his tongue.)

The Jester hummed. After a moment, he snuggled close, full body up against Grimm’s, cool against the Troupe Master’s warmth. “I guess.”

“Take your respite, Jester. Let me care for you.” He leaned back as far as he could, letting the Jester’s weight rest on him. “Then we can get dinner, yes? I bet you’re hungry.”

“Oh!” The Jester’s hand curled against his stomach. “Yes, that would be good. But… a moment, first. To catch my breath.”

“Of course.”

Forgetting was the greatest kindness he could offer the Jester, and the cruelest punishment the wyrm deserved. Let his troubles slip his mind. Let him cry and wail for things he didn’t know, acting out grief for the horrors he didn’t know he committed.

But there was not supposed to be such a gouge in the Kingsoul’s face. There was not supposed to be that soul behind his eyes. There were not supposed to be stories of beautiful roots or jokes about horrible wyrms. There were not supposed to be wing buds in the Jester’s back. The side of him that resided within the Nightmare was not supposed to have such a strain in its voice, nor was he supposed to feel the snap of spellwork.

Something was going wrong.

And all he could do was watch and try to stuff the wyrm back into the Jester’s shell.

-------------------------------

By @artisticdragons

#hollowknight #hollow knight #palejesterau #telephoneknight #troupe master grimm #pale king #grimmchild #shadelord #(briefly)

116 notes · View notes

dat-town · 4 years ago

Text

throw me to the wolves (and i’ll return leading the pack)

Characters: rebellion leader!Juyeon & thief!you

Genre: action, kind of enemies to lovers, historical (set in early 1900s like in Mr. Sunshine)

Warnings: some suggestive themes but nothing explicit, violence, minor character deaths

Summary: As the king’s thief, you had been assigned to get back the stolen map of the palace. It’s easy as pie but you would have never expected such consequences of your actions and you certainly did not expect Lee Juyeon in your life.

Words: 8.3k

Author’s note: title is a Seneca quote as far as I know (and I swear it will make sense), also the concept is very much inspired by TBZ’s Road to Kingdom Reveal and Danger stages.

Lee Juyeon might not have been of royal blood but he had definitely been born to rule.

The first time you met him, he pressed the blade of a knife against your neck, pinning you to a dirty wall in the outskirts of Hanseong.

"Not the nicest way to say hi to a lady," you remarked casually as if neither the closeness of his firm, strong body nor the sharp object grazing your skin didn't affect you. He was a lot stronger than you, you knew that, it would have been useless to go against him with brute force, so you had to be smart about it.

"You are very far from a lady," he sneered at you, dark messy hair falling into his fierce eyes.

Meeting his gaze, your heartbeat stopped for a moment in fear before blood rushing to your face tinted your pale cheeks in the colours of rosy sunrises. His eyes were murderous and he held his weapon steadily, so you were sure he wouldn't have hesitated to slice your throat if things didn't go his way. He was a dangerous man, you knew that already. With a reputation like his, you expected nothing less.

Although he might have had the reflexes and the wits, he might have been able to find you but you weren't going to just let him win so easily.

"Oh, am I?" you tilted your head nonchalantly yet careful not to hurt yourself because of your own hastiness. Then you elegantly lifted your right leg to link it behind his thigh almost as if you wanted to pull him closer. As expected, he faltered momentarily, blinking surprised at your bold and suggestive move, but that was all you needed to pull out your own dagger from its case on your leg and point it at his abdomen with a triumphant smile playing on your carmine lips. Oh men and their confidence, they always overlooked the skills of women.

Juyeon gritted his teeth, pressing his lips together firmly and as he was looking at you through narrowed eyes and you swore you could almost see the cogs in his head turning.

"Not that I don't enjoy this but what about we continue this discussion in a more civilized manner?" you croaked a brow at him challengingly to which the guy just let out a ridiculing snort.

"Well, you could have thought of that when you robbed me," he remarked almost as if he was waiting for you to deny it. But you just shrugged, unbothered.

"Stealing from a thief can hardly count as a theft."

"But it doesn't change the fact that I want my possession back," the young man retorted and you cracked a smile at that. That wasn't unexpected, of course, he wanted it. A lot of people desired the same thing in those chaotic times.

"Well, I don't have it with me but if you are willing to pay me more than my current client I might consider giving it back. I won't risk my life for nothing. Not even for that handsome face of yours," you teased pressing his buttons on purpose, testing him but the guy let out another snort, this time with a roll of his eyes. He clearly didn't appreciate you joking around but you were dead serious about your offer. In this kind of business you were dealing in, betraying a client had a high price.

"What about you giving it back nicely and I will forget about this little incident?" he offered you a chance to come clean and there was a dangerous edge in his voice, a 'because if you don't...' kind of threat. Oh, so he was the revengeful kind. It didn't really surprise you but he also wasn't the first man promising to ruin your life. But also because of that, his words could not scare you.

"What about I start screaming and men will come and save me from a pervert who pushed me against the wall?" you asked and from the flinch of his mouth you knew you had won this time. Because Hanseong might not have been the most righteous place of all, men still liked to play the hero if a pretty girl called for help. Juyeon must have known this as well, so his silence made you smile. "What about we play by my rules? Be at the Eastern altar of the Buddhist temple by the time the bell rings last at midnight and we might make a deal if you bring enough cash."

“Aren't you afraid that I will just take it?” he pondered the thought but he should have known better.

“Aren't you arrogant to think I would let you have it so easily? So what will it be? Should I scream?” you provoked him on purpose and did not like his smirk one bit. But at least he pulled away, lowering his knife, slipping it back to its place while his gaze wandered down to your rolled up skirt and the dagger you held in your hand.

“There are better ways to make you scream,” he said hoarsely and you couldn't decide whether it was supposed to be a threat or he was just being cocky. But before you could have questioned his motives, he swiftly climbed over a wall, disappearing into the shadows.

Lee Juyeon was fuming. He hated to lose and for some reason, meeting you felt like a slap. He didn't like that you had something over him, something that he really needed, so he had no choice but to cooperate, something he really hated to do with people he didn't trust and he certainly loathed your fleeting loyalty. Your kind, who didn't believe in anything, always chose the side which seemed more favourable, was the worst in his eyes because you two might have been criminals just the same but at least he did it all for a reason, a greater cause.

"Did you get it back?" Changmin greeted him excitedly as soon as he stepped into their hideout but Juyeon didn't spare him a glance, he went straight to their safe.

"She didn't have it with her," he murmured grumpily and mindlessly but the other boy was quick to catch on that tiny detail.

"Wait... she? It was a girl that almost broke Chanhee's nose?" he gasped to which the guy he just mentioned threatened to throw the closest object at him which happened to be a stolen jewellery box.

"Thank you for the reminder," he spoke up ironically sweetly.

Juyeon just shot them a disapproving look.

"Yes, it was a very annoying girl," he said, blood still boiling because of the fact that this unknown girl managed to break into their hideout and steal the map of the palace. They worked too hard to get it just to get it taken away by a pitiful thief.

"We will get it back, don't worry, but we can't make it too easy for her because then she might get greedy. Get some of the boys. We are going to pray tonight," Juyeon said as he fixed his sword on his side.

Changmin and Chanhee exchanged a knowing look but neither of them objected. They knew better because if Juyeon was good at something other than having a tongue as sharp as his blade, that was planning. He just didn't like when things got out of hand.

The temple was eerily quiet moments before midnight. When the bell of curfew woke up all the birds that flew away, Juyeon stepped out of the darkness as well, making his way slowly towards the altar but just as he stepped inside the temple, a familiar voice echoed all around.

“Aren’t you curious why I chose this place?” came the rhetorical question from somewhere in the shadows. “Because the acoustic is so perfect that every little step can be heard clearly. So you better leave your boys out and come in alone.”

Juyeon gritted his teeth and signalled to the others to wait outside. He hated that he was outsmarted by you. Not because you were a girl, he prided himself in the fact that he didn't care about that. He didn't like anyone crossing his plans and you were doing that as if you had the time of your life waltzing through his chess board.

He took careful, calculated steps inside the temple. He halted for a moment when he saw you sitting cross legged in front of a golden statue of a deity. He himself had never been religious, no god had given him a reason to believe, so he believed in what he could see and experience: himself and his group.

"Let's cut to the chase. I brought the money," he said, throwing the bag of coins between the two of you.

You hummed, acknowledging the heavy weight of the bag. But if you wanted to be honest, you didn't really care about money. Sure, it was a good safety net in case your previous clients turned against you but money couldn't save your life, you could have done nothing with it dead.

"Why do you need the map of the Palace?" you roll the sheet of paper in front of you, so both of you would see it: the pretty architectural plan of the most important building complex of the empire.

"Isn't it obvious?" Juyeon croaks a brow at that, glancing down on the paper and the candles nearby, wondering whether you would threaten him to set it ablaze if he wasn't cooperative. If you were arrogant enough to think you could be faster than him.

"Hm, no. I can think of multiple purposes," you told him lulling the options in your head. “But you don't have a good thief. If you had instead of trying to negotiate with me they would steal it back, so I guess you don't wish to rob the treasury. Then again you would have much easier ways to get inside if you would like to free a prisoner, so that leaves me with one option: you want to kill the king. Or someone as important as him."

Him, that puppet king so hungry for power that he didn’t even notice how his advisers controlled him.

The corner of Juyeon's mouth twitches. No matter how much he tried to act nonchalant he was annoyed how well you figured him out. His silence was enough of an answer for you nevertheless. So with a content smile on your carmine lips, you tilted your head in interest, gaze fixed on his sharp lines even in the dim lit temple.

"You know, rumours say that you are the bastard son of the late king," you told him paying close attention to his reactions but Juyeon stayed unfazed.

"And you think I will tell you if it's right or not?" he let out a mocking laughter but you weren't one to take it to heart.

"It was worth a shot." you just shrugged, then looked down on the map he so desperately wanted. "I will let you have it for free. On one condition."

"Then it's not free," he corrected you but the way his mouth tilted with annoyance but eyebrows raised in curiosity, he couldn't have been that bothered.

"I want in," you told him, clear and honest, confident. "If you really want to kill the king, I want to join."

For the first time that night the guy seemed really surprised and he didn't hide it. He looked at you as if you thought killing was a children's game.

"That's rebellion, you know, right?"

"We're both criminals, you know, right?" you retorted and he stared into your eyes, cold fire burning in his dark orbs. Moments passed like this, in grave silence and then...

"Accept her freaking condition. We do need a good thief," someone yelled from outside and you let out a chuckle. At least someone was smart on that team, you liked him already. Unlike the infamous Lee Juyeon.

"If you ever just think about betraying us, I'll kill you myself," he gritted his teeth but you merely smiled at him. You had no plans on betraying them as long as they got rid of the puppet king. And your unpaid debt.

"Understood," you stood up, pushing the map to his chest and grinned at him. "Instead of sulking, introduce me to your boys."

The notorious group was unlike any other than you had met before. They seemed more like friends and family than allies from the way they acted around each other. Of course, you weren't taken to the headquarters right away. You were taken to some inn where a guy named Changmin who seemed the most open to your arrival checked whether the map was real. They also stood guard one by one during the night as if you wanted to kill them. Gosh, it was four against one and Mr. Almighty thought girls weren't a match for him.

You immediately hit it off with Changmin over the fact that you had punched someone called Chanhee in the face while stealing the asset from them the last time. Sangyeon was kind but careful from the beginning. But Sunwoo and Juyeon seemed more wary of you but after you gave the last chicken wing of yours to the younger, he softened, so only their leader was hard to crack. You didn't exactly blame him, he just tried to keep the others safe even if he did it in an annoying way.

"Let's get one thing right: I don't trust you. Your kind, only working for money as if that was your god, not believing in something, that's the worst," he told you one evening, right before you were about to meet the entire team.

"I don't have the luxury to believe in anything else than myself. Never had," you looked him straight in the eyes, no tremble in your voice and then, for the first time since you knew him, Juyeon's eyes had a kind of understanding in them as if he knew what you were talking about.

The next day you were heading towards a temporary base and while the guys warned you about possible checks and guards on the road, neither of you expected any connotation. You travelled on horse backs with a farm-wagon like some nomads trying not to draw attention but each of you were known and wanted criminals, so it was almost inevitable to get on someone's bad side.

"Where exactly are we going?" you complained when you noticed that you took a turn that led backwards from where you departed.

"To the base, like we said, we just don't want unwelcomed guests there," Juyeon gritted his teeth, tilting his head towards the mountains. You didn't see anything special in them but he must have been aware of how ambushes around there worked because it didn't take long for the men to show their faces… or well, their intent. The first arrow pierced into the ground only a few steps away from Sunwoo's horse's feet, scaring the animals and alarming all of you. You looked around, drawing your daggers from your belt but you didn't see anyone in particular. The attack must have come from the mountains, from behind the rocks and the first one was soon followed by another again and again arrows raining down on you like a summer downpour.

"Into the woods! Right now!" Juyeon yelled and everybody followed his order without questions asked, leading the horses among the trees, into hiding. You tried to keep up and follow the guys but it seemed like you had lost their sight while watching behind your back too, checking on the approaching attackers. Eventually you decided to let your horse go, far into the woods, away from the danger on its own as you tried to hide from the men. You were like a shadow thief after all, you were good at disappearing into thin air but not if you had an animal three-four times your size with you. You hid behind a rock covered in green leaves, wondering whether you should have climbed the bamboo trees instead when you heard the steps nearing. You suck in your breath, holding it in to not make any noise while mentally cursing Lee Juyeon and his gang for setting you up. The king must have offered a nice sum of money for proving you unfaithful. Why else would they have left you behind?

Just as you thought you were by yourself, a hand clamped over your mouth, pulling your body close to his.

"Keep quiet and follow me," Juyeon, that impossible guy, muttered before slowly taking his hands off you and yanking you towards the growing bushes in the middle of the bamboo forest. There, between two ordinary looking branches he crouched down and climbed into some kind of hole that was unnoticeable from afar. You followed him, knees and hands dirty by the time you got to some kind of cave where you could stand up finally and you blinked, trying to adjust to the dark.

"Welcome to the base," you heard Changmin's cheerful voice and he lit a lamp, filling the cave with light where everybody was safe and sound. Seeing that and how Sangyeon was in the middle of treating an arrow scratch on Sunwoo's arm, you let out the breath you had been holding this whole time. Back there, you really thought for a moment that they betrayed you already and while lack of trust saved you quite a few times, this time you weren't proud of doubting them already. Not that they had any sentimental reason to get you to safety, they needed you for their mission, only that, you knew that and refused to believe otherwise.

However, the confession that fell from your lips that evening while passing the pot of jjigae around was more out of a sense of fairness than guilt.

"You told me you hate the kind that works only for the money, right?" you met Juyeon's sharp, dark, ever so telling eyes by the campfire, keeping your voice low enough, so only the two of you would hear it.

"I don't really have much choice. I work for the king to pay off my family's debt. It's this or prison and if I can make some side money like that, why not?" you shrugged, not looking at him. You weren't curious about his reaction or opinion, you told yourself. You didn't tell him to pity you.

A few long moments of silence passed while you pretended to cool the food down while stirring until Juyeon spoke up.

"Then why are you betraying him?"

"Isn't it obvious? A debt to the king has no limit, I would have to work for him until the day I die, he would never be satisfied with less. I want my freedom back," you told him, honestly, which was received only by a hum but you were glad that he didn't drag the topic out, he didn't ask about the reason behind the debt.

After that day, you were more involved in the planning phrase of the upcoming missions and eventually you met the whole team. You went out to steal this and that with Chanhee, playfully commenting on how pretty his nose was and grew totally fond of Haknyeon who made the best noodle soup you ever ate. The more missions you had been a part of, the more time you spent with them and away from the castle, the less chance you had to go back and beg for mercy if things went wrong. That was your original plan: give it a chance and retreat if it didn't work out but you had to realise that these people didn't have A and B plans, this was their one and only fight and they believed in it. It made you want it to succeed even more.

"We don't do this to rule," Changmin told you one day, after practicing sword fighting. "Nobody here, not even Juyeon desires the throne. We do this for the oppressed people, for those who suffer the most under this unfair regime."

It sounded too noble to be real but you believed him. Even more so when you heard that their takeover plan considered the loss of people and that they wished to get over with it with the least victims possible. That was why they needed the plan too: to know the best path to the throne room and the king's and his advisers' rooms without getting in the way of many guards. You also needed to know where and when the soldiers did their regular checks in the palace, so your plan's next phase was to observe the place. Chanhee has some connections and you could have your hideout in a courtesan house close to the royal quarters.

"Change," Juyeon said as he put a pile of pastel green dress in front of you. You looked down with clear disgust on your face before looking back up at a disgust.

"Are you for real?"

"You can't walk into a courtesan house dressed like that. You are a girl," Juyeon's voice was authoritative and a bit tense, you scoffed.

"Wow, now you're saying that," you rolled your eyes at him, still grimacing even when you were told that it was expensive to get said dress. In the end, you had to admit, it was the plan possible way to get in, so you picked the clothes up with a sigh and walked into a further alcove to get changed before your departure. It had been a long time since you wore skirts, those weren't too practical for climbing or fighting, so you preferred pants and anything that made it easy to move quickly and comfortably. So it felt strange to wear something like this again, not to mention it was probably silk based on how soft it was against your skin and you probably had never worn something as expensive as that. You ever let your hair down from the usual ponytail that made sure it didn't get in the way, so you looked every bit of a decent lady when you stepped out.

"Wow," Youngjae gave voice to his awe the moment he saw you and Sunwoo had to nudge him in the side to close his mouth.

The boys were either shy about it or similarly amazed, only Juyeon didn't really react. He barely glanced your way before telling everyone to hurry up. You rolled your eyes at his obvious behaviour and stuck to Changmin’s side on the way to the courtesan house. It would have been too conspicuous if everybody went together, so you formed smaller groups.

The plan was to get everyone to the new base before midnight and observe the palace for the next few days in turns. To make it even more believable, in public you had to act as if you were one of the girls working in the courtesan house, that made it less suspicious for the guys to visit you either and you didn’t care about your reputation much anyways. Not that a lot knew you, the faceless shadow thief, anyways. During the next days you gathered enough information to know when it would have been the best to attack but there must have been a whistleblower around because soldiers raided the courtesan house one of the evenings.

“They closed off every exit and entrance, we cannot get out without being caught,” Sangyeon said while Hyungseo looked out the window, confirming that there were soldiers outside as well.

“Chanhee says they are checking every room where there’s no business going on,” Changmin closed the door behind him. You were on the top floor, so you had advantage in time while the soldiers were busy checking beneath.

“Business?” Youngjae furrowed his brows, confused and got a smack in the head from Sunwoo.

“You know,” he emphasized making hand gestures that almost made you laugh despite the tense situation.

“Then hide and let’s make it look like there’s something here they don’t have the right to see,” you said pulling the fancy hairpin out, letting your locks fall onto your shoulders as you threw your red robe onto the ground, leaving a bit of a mess.

“Oh my gosh,” Youngjae shrieked, scandalized and turned his back on you, deciding to hide inside the closet followed by Sunwoo while others moved behind the curtains.

“Come on, I can’t put on a show alone. That would be even more suspicious than having a tea party here,” you complained, heartbeat drumming in your ears as you heard the approaching steps echo from the stairs outside. You climbed on top of the bed that faced the door and raised a brow at the two guys staring at you as if they didn’t believe you were alright with what you had just proposed.

“Showtime, boss,” Hyunjae decided and literally dragged Juyeon’s jacket off him before drawing his sword out, he stood behind the door in case the soldiers would have come inside anyways. That left only the team’s leader, the guy who had once said you weren’t much of a lady, in front of you, looking like he had some internal conflict.

Ridiculous. It was just a fake act, even if he was terrible at pretending, he could have made an effort. You weren’t a bad face to look at, so he really could have at least not suffered so visibly about having to get close with you. Maybe you just imagined him cursing under his breath, maybe he really was that frustrated but at least you didn’t have to force him to get on the damn bed and unbutton his shirt a bit himself. Great.

“Could you not act as if it physically hurt you to touch m–” you muttered under your breath, annoyed but Juyeon cut you off with a simple movement. He climbed over you, hovering over your body and slid a hand onto your neck, angling your head just right for a kiss that never came. Your lips parted in surprise but his only grazed against it slightly, your breaths mingling in the air while his piercing gaze shot right through you. It felt burning, the way he looked at you with those feline eyes from so close. You could practically feel the heat of his body, his skin scorching against yours – or was it you? – and your heart picked up its speed once again. The wait was nerve-wracking because you felt the tension stiffen in the air while you listened to the thuds of doors opening and closing, soldiers shouting.

When the door your room opened, revealing three men in black behind it, you pretended to be shocked and automatically reached to rearrange your clothes while Juyeon turned his head lazily towards the intruders.

“Who are you to disturb me? Did I not pay enough?” he yelled at the soldiers who exchanged knowing looks, but after looking around for suspicious signs, they indeed retreated.

You let out a breath when the door finally closed again and tried and failed not to roll your eyes at how fast Juyeon pulled away. Hyungseo cleared his throat and said something about seeing the two of you slightly undressed in a bed scarring him for life and one by one all the guys came out of their hiding place, only making comments about the recent events behind your backs.

After the visit of the soldiers, the tense atmosphere slowly dissolves into something like anticipation and determination to get done with their plan as soon as possible. You already had a good idea about the daily routine within the palace but with how frequently they changed their guards it would have been almost impossible to get through them without drawing too much attention and that was the least you wanted. If the royal guards knew about your arrival, you would have been too outnumbered to actually do anything, much less to get to the king himself. But you had a good card in your favour.

"So I will be taking the map back?"

"Right. If we have at least a bit of luck, the king and his men only know that you came to get that. Let's say you had trouble getting your hands on it..." Sangyeon explained which made you scoff out loud. You didn't mean to look down on them but it was ridiculously easy to get the map. Sure they had stood guard and they kept it locked away but a group of about ten guys was nothing you who had been robbing much more secured places than their bases. The most difficult part was to actually find them, after that it was like a children's play. So it somewhat hurt your pride and reputation as a thief to admit you had to waste days until you got it.

"Sure, we can say that I tried to seduce your boss to get the map here," you shrugged and glanced at said guy and knew that despite your nonchalant behaviour your words provoked him based on the way he clenched his jaw. "That would explain even if one of the guards recognized me. Though I don't see much of a chance for that. Although this much time would have been enough for you to get what you wanted from it, so the king will be displeased."

"Will you meet him in person?" Haknyeon asked since that was crucial information regarding your plan. If you were about to meet the king, then they must be there, too. But no, you only met the king once and the memory sent shivers down your spine. You were dragged in front of him, clothed rugged, dirt and bruises all over you as two guards held you. You weren't proud of how you had been crying but that day, you were sure you were about to die. As a daughter of servants in the royal palace, you had no way of providing a better life for yourself. You weren't only a subject to the king but his slave. When you were born that way, there was no chance of getting out. Born as a girl you couldn't become a guard, a soldier or a scholar. It was a time when the higher you could go was becoming a concubine but you had no intention of lying under the king or a prince. You would have chosen death over that.

But no, the king must have wanted something since he didn't kill you with your parents when he learned about their betrayal, about how they sold information about him to his brother. No, he took your life and made sure to form you to his will, to make the perfect little thief and spy for him in exchange for letting you live. But he was naive to think that you would be loyal to the murdered of your parents. Because he might not have been the one to draw the sword but he was the one who gave the orders, him and not his stupid advisers who made your country rot and the people suffer.

"Probably not. He usually gives me orders through his right hand man," you said, knowing too well that said man had his temperament to match the king's. They would beat you just enough, so you could steal more for them. Maybe break only your left hand to cause enough pain but not turning you incapable for them. You were an asset, nothing more and you hated it.

"What will happen to you because of your latency?" came the next question and gulping down your own fears, you waved it off, forcing a confident expression onto your face.

"Don't worry about me and break into the king's quarters like you should," you told them, clear as the sky was on summer afternoons you had liked as a child.

The truth was, everybody knew what happened to those who displeased the king. It wouldn't matter that you bring back the desired map. If you were late, it was the same as not going along with the order.

"You should have someone to be there with you," Juyeon spoke up for the first time for a while, his gaze fixated on the map without a fail and it made the corners of your mouth twitch. It almost sounded like he cared.

"Are you worried about me, Lee Juyeon?" you raised a brow at him, cunningly like a tease but when he looked up and your eyes met, the words froze onto the tip of your tongue. There was something sad in his eyes, something you had failed to notice before. As if he understood you more than you would have thought.

"Of course, we are all worried about you!" Changmin said vehemently and you tore your gaze away from the raven haired boy to turn to him with a grateful smile.

"Then, focus on not getting yourself killed first. I can take care of myself," you claimed and kept acting like it through the meeting, deciding on the upcoming Lotus festival celebration's night for the attack. There might have been more guards around then but with more guests in the palace, it would have been easier to blend in. No to mention that the king being drunk could probably help too.

It was a good plan, one you believed in. One that could finally bring you peace and freedom. You didn't want to delude yourself too early, so you tried not to think too much about it. If the mission wasn't successful you would have been killed for sure since what you were about to do was treason and no traitor could live in Hanseong.

It was a two way street then: freedom or death. Free from the king's chains either way. Yet, the night before the Lotus festival, you found it hard to sleep. You were fidgety, even snapped at Changmin when he tried to make a joke about you finally looking like yourself in your regular clothes instead of the courtesan one. You apologized and he understood, everybody was tense after all but it showed differently. Juyeon for example was even more closed off and quieter than usual. You didn't expect to run into him at night, though.

It was eerily quiet in the corridors and you just wanted to get some fresh air, outside of the suffocating atmosphere of your room. Meeting him by the gate, however, wasn't the plan.

"Are you ditching us?" he asked in a hoarse voice, back leaning against the brick wall as soon as you passed by him like wind. His voice was more passive and sad than angry and you remembered how he warned, threatened you to kill you if you decided to betray their trust. Sure, you could have ratted them out, saving yourself but did he really trust you so little?

"I don't know. Should I?" you retorted just for the sake of it because it was ridiculous: his suspicion of you even after all this time. But he didn't answer, so you rolled your eyes. "I just needed some air. Just like you, I assume."

Juyeon seemed to complement over your reply but he must have deemed it good enough because he turned his deadly gaze away. You didn't intend to have a heart-to-heart talk with him but since you might die tomorrow, it was your last chance to ask questions like:

"You already know my reason for treason but what's yours? And don't give me some crap like for a better and fair future," you turned to him but you were careful enough to look around before talking about something like that in public.

However, Juyeon either wanted to avoid answering or simply didn't like the place as he bob his head towards the courtesan house and as his sign, you went back inside, finding solace in your empty room. It had been a long while since you had been alone with him and you remembered what happened here the last time when you were this close… even closer. Now you both sat on the ground, backs to the wall, no touching, no smart retorts, no audience.

"Have you heard the story of the Crown Prince?" Juyeon spoke up but his question made you furrow your brows.

"About Prince Hyunjoon? What story?" you wondered out loud as confused as you were. Prince Hyunjoon had been sent to study in a prestigious academy as it had been advised to the king but it was probably not for his own good, there were rumours going around that he had sent the boy away because he feared he would try to take his throne from him. He had grown to be paranoid.

"No, not him. The first born prince," Juyeon corrected you and that made sense, you couldn’t recall anything else that was interesting regarding the next ruler of the country. You believed that after his father’s death, even if he was inexperienced, he could make a better king. He was said to be kindhearted after all.

"Ah, the prince who died almost 20 years ago?"

Your question had been left hanging for a few long moments and you even turned to face Juyeon, wondering whether he heard up but what he said next made your eyes grow comically wide.

"He didn't die,” he claimed so sure of himself that it left no doubts even though it was already crazy. “But he has always been unworthy of the title of the crown prince."

"What do you mean? And how do you know?" you sprouted questions because in that moment you could do only that, even forgetting how it came up in the first place.

"You see, the crown prince was indeed the son of the queen but just as the king wasn't faithful, she wasn't either. She had her child out of wedlock but raised him as if he was the kind of royal the king desired,” the boy continued quietly, looking down at his hands, playing with a ring on his pinkie finger. “The king figured out and he was furious. He got the queen killed but the boy was rescued by rebels. He was only six at the time but from one day to another, his father who had never been a kind man became his biggest enemy, so he had grown up seeking revenge.”

You had listened to this story, his story, you were sure, and you couldn’t have been more shocked. You knew that the king was an awfully temperamental man but killing his own wife and a child? And these days he got drunk and had multiple women in his quarters? It made you sick.

“That’s my reason for treason,” Juyeon added slowly, quietly, almost gentle and for the first time you wanted to tell him something reassuring, something so unlike you but it wasn’t your place to pat him on the back and tell him everything would be alright.

“I… I never knew. I have grown up in the palace but I have only heard that the first prince had died and his death broke the queen’s heart, too,” you whispered, suddenly feeling naive but who would have thought?

“Not many people know. He hid it well,” the boy gritted his teeth, then exhaled a few shaky breaths. “But Hyunjoon knows and he’s on our side. He will make a good king.”

You hummed along, agreeing, hoping for better days and that you could live long enough to enjoy those.

"Look, I know you hate me..." you started off, not trying to come off as someone close to him just because he told you this but then, he unexpectedly cut you off. His confident voice caught you off guard so much that it had your eyes widen in surprise.

"I don't," he said and you might have only imagined it but he sounded a bit nervous. He probably wasn’t used to talking about his feelings, even if it was hate. Now, that made two of you. "I did hate you but... I hate everything that I associate with the king and you... I have seen the bag of gold coins paid for killing my mother and me."

Ah. So that was why he hated ‘your kind’ so much. The kind that took dirty money and accomplished any task thrown in their way, even murdering an innocent child. It made sense, the murderous look in his eye, the disgust he had written all over the place whenever he looked at you. He probably associated you with those who had taken his mother away from him.

“I’m just a thief. I never killed anyone, even though some I encountered would have deserved it,” you told him. You didn’t owe him an explanation or anything for that matter but still, you wanted him to hear that from you because you knew how your reputation made you sound.

"I know," Juyeon stated, oddly calm and you were dumbfounded to notice the subtle smile in the corner of his mouth before he turned his head to look at you. Dark orbs finding yours, stirring something inside you. "Your aim is too shitty for you to be a killer."

"Yah!" you gasped, pseudo-offended but then laughed it off and for the first time in a long while, for a moment you felt light and at ease. Who knew Juyeon could make you feel that way too and not just boil your blood in an annoying way.

Looking back, you should have known better. You should have seen that something was off. But your mission was planned so well that you believed the smooth execution was thanks to all those long days who had put into it and all those months and years of preparation that Juyeon and his team had behind their backs in order to even dare such a thing.

Getting into the palace during the Lotus Festival was easy. A lot of people came and went during the parade and the palace was buzzing with life. The king looked like he was having fun as well, maybe a bit too much with how often his glass was refilled with rice wine but his recklessness was only working into your favour. By the time the celebrations became dull enough for the ruler to leave, you left your signal in the throne room, wishing for counsel. It was always like this but you never met the king during these times, you didn’t even mind it. Still, waiting in the half-lit room was quite nerve-wracking while you prayed for the others to be able to make their way to the king’s chambers without any hitch. You knelt before the empty throne, head onto the ground, waiting like a good, loyal subject and you suppressed the shudder running through you when you heard approaching, arrogant steps.

“You’re late,” a voice said and you still kept your head down. But you were ready to draw your dagger any needed moment.

“My deepest apology, Your Majesty. I tried to be as quick as possible,” you mumbled out an excuse knowing well that until the right hand let you know that he wasn’t the king, you had to act as if he was.

“Then you were too slow,” the man grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at him and with widened eyes, you saw those ruthless ones that had been haunting your dreams since your parents’ death. There was the king in front of you.

But… the whole team had clearly seen him go to his chambers! Then… who was that? Who played that role in the trap? How far would they have gone? What was waiting for the others on their way to the king’s main bedroom? You had to warn them somehow!

"You really thought you could double-cross me? You thought I wouldn't know that you betray me?" the king clicked his tongue, earning your attention again, injecting fear into your veins. You wanted to turn your head, to pull away, to yell at Changmin to go and let the others know but before you could have done any of that, the king pushed you onto the ground.

"Ah, looking for your friend?" he asked mockingly and with a flick of his wristy he called for his guards, the men who carried the luml body of a familiar face.

"No! Changmin!" you shrieked in panic. He was supposed to keep an eye on you, not getting caught. Now, that it wasn't just you in immediate danger, worries took over your chest almost suffocating you.

"Although I should be grateful since you brought my long lost son back home, so I could finish the job my men couldn't," the king tilted his head as if he was pondering over the thought. Your fingers curled up in a fist, glaring at the man with hatred. He played with all of you like a cat played with mice before eating. He enjoyed your suffering and the mind games he played but you weren't keen on being one of his pawns. Not anymore.

Juyeon was ready to kill the king, even if he had to die and in a way you both just wanted revenge and freedom. You had never been a killer but you were ready to die trying in order to end the rule of a tyrant and to save the guys who had become your comrades and friends over the past few days, weeks and anyone who had the same destiny as you. Nobody deserved to have their life hung by a thread of an ultimate made by one side.

So you decided to make a risky move, a reckless one as you reached for the dagger in your belt, throwing it at the smug man the next time he turned towards you. It was a hasty movement, surprising enough for the guards to rush to the king's side but Juyeon was right: your aim was shitty.

Instead of his chest, the dagger barely grazed the king's upper arm and fell onto the ground with a pathetic thud. The man just laughed as if it was funny and picked up your weapon, turning it against you. You gulped as you backed up until the wall. You heard Changmin yelling at you to run while trying to free himself from the guards but you couldn't move, you just stood there, frozen, and watched as the man lifted his hand to strike down at you with the blade. You flinched when he moved, closing your eyes like a coward and only opened them when you felt the man get wobbly in front of you, falling onto his knees from the dagger getting him from behind. Blood spilled from his mouth as his body shook before giving up the fight and you let out a relieved sigh. Such an unceremonious, simple way for a king to die but he didn't deserve more.

"Are you okay?" Juyeon asked, voice honeyed with care and even his dark eyes softened as he stepped closer to check on you, looking for bruises. The same eyes you noticed behind the king when he approached and you had to try your best not to show surprise and relief.

"Yeah. You got here just in time. How did you know?" you gaped at the guy and the others who fought off the guards in the meantime. If the king's bedroom was a trap, how did they get out?

"That man didn't have a limp. I realized he had been a fake one to begin with," he said simply as if it was natural but you had no idea the king had a limp up until now. You still tended to forget he had lived in the palace, close to the king in his childhood and now you tried to imagine him on a throne. It was easier than ever with you being in the throne room with a dead king but Juyeon had never had the ambitions to govern.

"Well, next time you could be faster," you teased, trying to lighten up the atmosphere and luckily, the team's leader didn't seem to mind. His smug smile was back and you would have rolled your eyes if he hadn't just saved your life.

"Will there be a next time? When you're being cornered by a man?" he raised an eyebrow challengingly, a little suggestively but instead of hitting him on the chest, you raised your chin and played the same game:

"Who knows? I keep getting into these situations since I got to know you," you tsked and there was no lie in there. Juyeon smiled at you, sincerely, his eyes holding a secret only the two of you knew but he was practically pushed aside when Changmin came to make sure you weren't hurt, mumbling something stupid about it being his fault.

Juyeon looked around, proud to see his men fight for the same cause and their efforts paying off. When it was finally time for you to leave and start a new chapter in your life, you looked back on the empty throne and the bloody crown on the floor.

“We don’t need a king sitting high on his throne, it’s the time of dogs and wolves,” Juyeon muttered and outside, the Lotus Festival continued as if nothing happened. Smiling, you joined the celebrations.

So this is what it tasted like: freedom.

#the boyz x reader #juyeon x reader #the boyz x you #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #stories

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ivarthebadbitch · 3 years ago

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the last kingdom season 5: the last roundup

(spoilers, of course)

the good:

the overall production value and cinematography were much better than the previous seasons, and far superior to the dark, dingy mess that was season 4. with a few exceptions, you could actually see what was going on! things looked good.

the pacing and the way the different storylines came together. tlk loves convoluted storylines and this season had its fair share, but it mostly worked. better still, it didn’t drag like some previous seasons. I am pleased to report the only scene I skipped was uhtred and pyrlig’s, like, 20 minute conversation about destiny blah blah blah. maybe it was super profound. I'm not interested in finding out!

5x4. the midseason episodes from 5x3 to 5x6 were the strongest and most affecting, and of those, 5x4 was the real standout. I think that was in large part because it was less action oriented and really gave time to the characters: aethelflaed, aelswith, brida, and edward stole the episode for me. I’ve never cried over a tlk episode but this one got me close.

edward, for being the absolute king bitch I always knew he could be. so proud of my boy.

the battle in 5x6, particularly the crossing of the ice. it was so fucking tense!

the rongvaldr and stiorra dynamic. I love a fuckup, I love that she absolutely loathed him, I love that he really seemed to want her to like him, I love that he managed to fail up into becoming lord of eoferwic.

the development of some of the more minor characters and relationships. aelflaed and aalys was my favorite, rip :(

aelfweard’s bowl cut. he rocked it!

the ehhhh:

aethelhelm. clearly adrian schiller was doing the best he could, but for being around for 2 1/2 seasons, aethelhelm just never was given enough depth to really come out of some guy territory to be a genuinely interesting villain. why was he doing all this? oh, just for power and wealth? boring!

the conclusion of brida’s arc. I wrote about this a little bit already, and it could have been way worse, but it was not...good. emily cox, by the way, absolutely killed it all season, especially 5x3 and 5x4. but as it was written in 5x7, it felt like a cop out, and mostly a way to kill her off in a manner that would not make uhtred look like the guilty party, or really examine why she might feel the way she feels towards him.

eadith x uhtred. yeah, they didn’t actually do it and just sort of dropped hints, thank god, but that...scene in 5x1 that we will not discuss in detail? awkward as hell. and I’m not a finan x eadith shipper, I have no skin in that game. but no. absolutely not.

the bebbanburg shit. I have always been skeptical about bebbanburg as a compelling goal, and I was not convinced here. like ok, he got bebbanburg, because of course he did, because there was no way he was not going to get it. so what.

the ‘what did it all mean, anyway?’:

no, it’s not about destiny or honor or religious/cultural identity, though granted, they give a lot of tedious speeches about these things. it’s not “the hero’s journey” (which, sure it is, but what about it?). at its core, the last kingdom is primarily concerned with property--either literal property, or more abstract (think how often they mention “bloodlines” or “the people”)--and the most important principle is the maintenance/protection/recovery of one’s rightful property. that is the ends that justifies basically all means. uhtred’s violent, decades-long quest to regain bebbanburg? well, he’s the rightful heir, it’s his by right, you see. his bloodline must survive so that they can maintain their rightful property. that dream of a united england? one giant piece of property, under the authority of alfred/edward/whoever. everyone being totally aghast at edward for daring to propose dividing northumbria to secure peace with the scots? what, willingly letting go of a piece of property????

#the last kingdom #the last kingdom spoilers

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distance-does-not-matter · 3 years ago

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kanej Ted talk pls?

Oh boy now I have to remember my talk

Well, it’s interesting to trace the development in their relationship. When it first starts out, even before the book starts, it’s strictly business. He’s Dirtyhands, and she’s his Wraith, his thief of secrets. And then she begins to steal his secrets. Not to sell them, of course, just to have. He begins to trust her. He takes her on missions. They have each other’s backs. By the time the book starts, he trusts her enough to take off his shirt and, more importantly, his ever-present gloves in front of her. A Big Deal when it comes to Kaz, right?

And he calls her endearments, but it’s sarcasm, and she teases right back. (”Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?” “Have a long trip down.”) Against their better wishes and instincts, they’ve become friends. And having friends is dangerous in the Barrel, especially when your friends are the most deadly things in the Barrel.

Next comes the departure for the Ice Court, and Inej is injured in the course of rescuing her teammates. Severely injured. Kaz goes ballistic. Rips a man’s eye out and then throws him overboard. And he says something very interesting, a clue of how much he’s come to lean on Inej without even knowing: “My Wraith would counsel mercy. But thanks to you, she’s not here to plead your case.” She’s become his conscience, the mercy to his ruthlessness. She retains her goodness for both herself and Kaz, while Kaz has long since cast it aside.

Here, Inej acknowledges her feelings for Kaz, as well as their stupidity. He is the deadliest thing in the Barrel, and her cheeks heat when she sees him shirtless. (It takes him days to work up the courage to talk to her.)

We get to the trek to the Court. Kaz and Inej are a duo, Kaz&Inej, working in sync. They know each other’s every trick, every turn of phrase. Inej knows how Kaz will lock himself in. Inej knows when Kaz faints. Inej wakes Kaz up. Inej brings Kaz back to himself. (”Better it should be her.”)

He hates to reveal weakness, but he begins to reveal it to Inej.

I can’t remember if he ever addresses his feelings for Inej before this, but if he doesn’t, then this could be seen as a good start-point. Inej has become his second in command, his moral compass, and now, his confidante. Or, the closest thing a boy called Dirtyhands has to a confidante.

They break into the Ice Court. Kaz is loathe to leave Inej. Inej climbs the incinerator shaft. She gives Kaz back his gloves, his armor. She tells him she’ll leave Ketterdam. He hates it, and he welcomes it. He will let her go.

He is almost drowning, he is a child again, helpless and dying, and still he thinks of her. He has to make sure she’s safe. He has to rescue her if she isn’t.

On the return to Ketterdam, he asks her to stay (”Stay. Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me.”) And she would, but his armor is still on. He is still wearing his gloves. He still will not meet her eyes. And so she leaves him to his armor.

She is his weakness on Vellgeluk. She is captured, and he is left with naught but his rage and his reputation. ‘I’m going to get my money. And I’m going to get my girl. Dirtyhands had come to see the rough work done.’ His gloves are very firmly on.

In Crooked Kingdom, he leans into his reputation to get Inej back. He is ruthless and brutal and he and his crew offer a pregnant woman biscuits and massages. Despite himself, Inej is getting to him. But his growth is his and his alone. He will have to do the work.

Without meaning to, Kaz chooses a geranium barge for his plans. Inej’s mother’s favorite flower. I have to wonder if Kaz stored that detail away in his brain for a later, quieter moment. (A few geraniums, tied together, left on Inej’s doorstep. A calling card, a love letter. She picks them up and smiles.)

He is more open with her. She knows more of his secrets. She knows about Jordie long before he mentions him to Jesper. And yet, they are still not totally honest. He is still working through his trauma.

But they are making strides. (”Curse you and all your saints,” he said to no one at all, then realized he was smiling.) (Nina knew that look. It came after the shipwreck, when the tide moved against you and the sky had gone dark. It was the first sight of land, the hope of shelter and even salvation that might await you on a distant shore.) (”I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our away out together--knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”)

Later, in the bathroom, they fight through their trauma. Kaz touches her with bare skin and fights to stay in the moment. He fights for more. He cannot stop the waves that drag him back. But he hates them, every moment of them.

The rest of Crooked Kingdom comes in a tumble of blood, sweat, tears, revenge, and smiles. (She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It was a smile he thought he might die to earn again.)

And at the end, the very end, he is without armor, and he is willing to let her go. He holds her hand, gives her what she needs for her chosen mission, and her heart’s desire. He gives her a ship and a berth and he is willing to let her leave. She is the one who tells him she’ll come back. She is the one who tells him to come meet her parents.

(”Is my tie straight?” “That’s the laugh.”)

This is entirely too many paragraphs to talk about the fact that at the end of Six of Crows, Kaz is possessive and gives too little, and his growth is that, at the end of Crooked Kingdom, he gives her all she wants and asks for precious little in return. (”Say you’ll return.”) He sets aside his gloves for her, his armor.

She has him without armor.

#soc #six of crows #Kanej #idk why this is so long but I hope you enjoy it and all the quotes I pulled from the books

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reilliane · 2 years ago

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I really love your Tyranny series. I thought that it would be different from other villain series that there would be no one she will end up with because she would die at one of the person who serves her. Like Alatus, Diluc, or Kazuha. A realistic ending and not a love-hate idealistic forced romance upon those mentioned.

I thought that maybe it's because she's a tyrant, even if she's really pretty HAHAHAHAH. She committed crimes, killed bystanders where she ordered Kazuha to do it as he's her dog at this point, though he can do nothing about it. Nor I can feel his emotions after those killings hence why I cannot understand her stand in his heart even though he wants to know her more other than his innocent curiosity.

And as you know, Alatus. His morals and pride would never allow himself to fall for her. I think that a person who values his pride is not an easy one to bend. He's honorable and the romance between them, is uh, I think kinda forced?

Lastly, Diluc, he's being forced to a marriage though our Queen has a reason. It's kinda sus if he gradually fall for someone who's trying to keep him beside her for amusement. Like a kidnapped person falling for a kidnapper.

I can understand if Childe and the Queen had some small romance and talk, but still not her end-game as she keeps scowling at him (and yes I vote for him).

But other than that, I don't know why I feel this way. Or I am getting a deja vu feeling after they made Raiden from an Archon Villainess to her first Story Quest which is basically a dating sim that it disappointed me greatly.

But other than those, I think that the Queen really did great at managing her kingdom. Just that I felt that those romance are forced as she is someone who would no need anyone by her side but pawns to discard. Yes, I think of her very highly as a character who's a tyrant.

I still really like it and would still read it though no matter what the ending(s) are.

I feel like I've committed a crime by telling this as I forgot that you write x reader stories. You can disregard this message. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Oh dear oh dear ~ I'm actually quite glad you approached me on this! I like that you're attuned to their personalities.

I'm assuming you're relatively new and so, wasn't there when I initially talked about Tyranny and the ending it would get.

Because I completely understand! I thought of the story, after all, and thought of the relationships really well. Ain't no way I'm about to shove "love MC GRRR" down their throats, nono :")

Cauuuuse, yes with the way Tyranny!MC is written it really screams 'I NEED NO MAN!' other than as source of leisure 🥴

NOW BUCKLE UP ITS TIME TO READ AN IN DEPTH- THING! This is long, and will be a pleasant read for those who want to know more about MC/LIs.

And MC's complicated reign. In general. As well as my writing... in general KSHDAJKHDSA

This ask is just too good to pass up!

I have a TLDR utc, but there's a looooong, long message too-

TL;DR: Trust me, the plot is nowhere near the half of the whole. There are plenty of stuff to go through, plenty to reveal (boy im still excited for that) and that includes proper development! Tyranny is a fic where morality is the center of conflict. I don't intend, for example, Alatus/Diluc (who loathes MC) to fall for her so suddenly. As a fanfic writer I strive to write the characters accordingly! There is no 'kiss kiss fall in love mwAH!' especially in the Tyranny universe. It may be difficult to see it for now, but trust me when I say that the endings will be realistic. There's one true ending for the conclusion of the fic. True, in this case meaning it is the canon ending, and separate bonus endings (aka the 'routes', think of this as an alternate world where Tyranny is a world of mercy) for the characters.

—

Now of course, even if this is a fanfiction and may not be as realistic as, well, reality (lol) I still aim to reflect realism when it comes to a character's emotions.

I can go ham with plots and twists but I take emotions and relationships seriously. No kissing on the first date! lmao

You'd see that in Fleur too. Fleur!MC is all 'marry me!' and flirty, but nothing ever happens from 0 to 100. So far it's only Fleur!Kazuha who has expressed interest in a date aside from Venti (hello roommate??/j)

Aether? Maybe. Xiao? Zero.

(Of course, that's Fleur as in the fic, not the arts and comics/omake that are set up as comedic/'harem' on purpose)

Happens too in my SMITE book! It has a sub genre of romance but in the 70+ chapters that there are, nothing vastly romantic has ever happened because? Smite!MC has no time for it.

NOW back onto Tyranny-

If you read the genres listed for it (tyranny) in the 'Observatory' there's no romance at all; it's angst, action, fluff. I take labels/genres to heart. That mirrors into the narrative itself.

Romance is just a smol bonus, a sub genre if you will. It's unlisted because it's not a priority. (Whereas if you look at 'Absconder', there's a romance tag because it includes AbyssPrince!Aether & he's regarded as MC's lover)

Surely you've noticed that, despite the LIs being LIs (really, in the first place there only are 'LIs' because as you said, I'm an 'x reader' writer :D), there aren't any solid, blooming relationships with MC at all aside from what is already present.

Which is resigned fealty.

Kazuha is merely following MC's orders and so are Alatus/Xingqiu/Bennett. They're doing only the absolute bare minimum.

(Well, Kazuha has a more intricate reason- still, there are no mentions about him ever feeling something akin to love. Just pity.)

No one ever smiles around her, either, only Albedo/Childe/Zhongli (he barely even does), who were more linked with her when she still wasn't a Queen.

Heck even Diluc only humors this because his life is literally aligned with hers and he plans to break that.

They loathe MC to the core (Alatus/Diluc).

And the others aside from Childe are on neutral grounds (well Xingqiu hates her too lol) for reasons.

—

1. Murder of the og royal family and villagers who were the cause of her siblings' death aside, MC is one heck of a complicated Queen.

The aristocrats she sent to the gallows were corrupt thieves/traitors who'd leak info about the Crown to other Kingdoms, and the criminals she hung were those who don't deserve a second chance. Really, the only time she spilled red out of her own leisure was that time with the villagers.. Not like that's good either.

She liked sending criminals to the gallows and the only time it was stopped was when Zhongli returned to take over the seat of Justiciar (judge) in the court.

2. She leads Khemia well. It's been mentioned that Khemia has prospered even more and military power has upped after she became Queen. Even the Knights are paid well.

The bit about 'being unfriendly' with other nations (note: Kuni, etc) is a problem long before she was even crowned. Yet, trade is good.

She lets the kingdom's traditions continue, aka the festivals. She just doesn't participate in them aside for a few. Yknow, 'eh go do whatever but dont rope me in it'.

It's also been stated that she holds audiences! Literally anyone can be granted, though its a rarity since they're afraid of her ahfjajcja

—

Such are the reasons. They're extreme and immoral, blown out of proportion. She's not the most merciful, but still she does things for the Kingdom.

Other casualties done by Childe are those who are a threat to her. A normal thing for a sovereign, assassination.

Xingqiu dislikes Albedo for aiding Rhine and MC in their quest to take the throne, but could tolerate him well enough because the reality is that, again, murder aside- it's no joke that Khemia has advanced.

It's also been stated in Conqueror that Kuni and Khemia are on thin ice (on the verge of probable war) yet MC is not initiating nor provoking the former. In fact, she went to Kuni (Queen's Retinue) to allay the bad blood between the two Kingdoms and even graciously welcomed Scaramouche when he came to her.

It's what stunned all the most; the nobles in house Khemia took their seats (Duke/Queen) seriously.

I don't condone MC's acts, but these reasons are just one of the many as to why several are torn with her as a ruler. Yes, she's such a wicked person, but she doesn't do things without basis.

Remember that time when she came to a public event instead of Albedo and was, to the surprise/fear of the public, amicable with the children.

Complicated thoughts from LIs are shown in their voicelines 'About the Queen'. I could go on and on about this but this will get too long lmao.

Fluster? Embarrassment? All those they only show when MC does something that warrants it (e.g. flirt), because it's a natural reaction.

Lmao when Alatus gets flustered because of her he absolutely HATES IT AJDJAJCJAJX like seriously, I don't think there ever is a Tyranny short with Alatus as an appearing character that doesn't include at least one mention where he goes 'UGH I HATE THE QUEEN SMMMM' or 'how long am i supposed to put up with this' 😆

And Kazuha. It's been implied that he knew of her way before she became Queen, knew way more.

He does not tolerate MC's actions (no one does- except for Childe HDJAJFWI) but does them because he intends to find something out. And the only way to do that was to stick by her side.

In most of Alatus/Diluc's POVs he thinks of her as a monster. Kazuha didn't even know that MC could weep until he saw her tearing up ('The Queen was much more human than he thought').

It's quite literally, only Childe/Scara/Zhongli who are interested at MC to some degree.

So do you see it dear? Albeit LIs, there is zero romance at all (again... Except for Childe AAAAAA) because it's impossible for it to grow D:

Now onto the endings ! I've mentioned it in my rambles that are now lost in the masses lol but I'll repeat it no matter how many times.

Tyranny will have one ending at first, the true ending, a realistic one that concludes the fic.

But, as you said it, I'm an 'x reader' writer, so there will still be a second ending (say an alternative, a merciful one) that branches off eventually to routes with specific LIs.

But even then! It's not a whole 'fall in love' route because it's.. insane lol, pacing where -?

And even then, again, romance will not be forced :') I assure you to trust me on this one~

In all of my ficlets where romance is the main focus, nothing wholly romantic happens especially when the characters have just met. Just the occasional tension and the flirting.

Unless of course, it's a pre-established relationship!

With what is presently released for Tyranny now, the concept of having 'romance endings' for the LIs may come off as forced. But, Tyranny is yet to reach half the whole plot, there are many things to uncover.

And whilst those are uncovered, so will the unraveling and development of how the LIs think of MC. It's a whole journey!

An agonizing slow burn. IT'LL BE A SHUCKING HIT IN THE HEART I PROMISE REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Also.. I've hinted that Tyranny.. well, even with that aside, if you know my way of writing in general, nothing really ends happily :)

Those who stand at the pinnacles are the ones who fall the hardest... hehe (resumes evil cackling)

Anyway.... :') yes, just trust me dear JDSHAJDASHJKDHAK

ps. OMG A CHILDE LOVER! He's rejoicing rn, fr frfrfrfr-

#moonlitchat #m-tyranny #a very long ramble asjdhajsdhas

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