#au: daoine sidhe

[kpop-stories-21]

Stains of Crimson | Part 2

Group: ATEEZ

Pairing: Jongho x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes, & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Dark Fae AU, Fantasy AU, Angst, Smut, Dark Content

Content & Trigger Warnings: Daoine Sidhe!Jongho, Pirate Captain!Reader, dark content, graphic descriptions of fighting, graphic descriptions of death, graphic descriptions of gore, blood, injuries, brief & graphic mention of torture, experimenting on humans, blood magic

Summary: A nearly successful escape brings you in contact with the mysterious Fae who has been watching you for a while now

General tags: @kpop---scenarios @stardragongalaxy @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @trashlord-007 @liliesofdreamsskz @pyeonghongrie-main @naturalogre @bxffietheblxxdy @sanjoongie ATEEZ tags: @lovelyhange @spicyseonghwas @firefox79 @alex-tinyy

If you want to be added to my taglist, click here

Network pings: @kdiarynet | @cultofdionysusnet

MDNI banner, divider, and support banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

«-Previous | Next-»

“Rise and shine, little fly!”

A loud banging woke you, and you cursed whichever one of your crew members dared to wake you in such a manner. Then your sleep-blurred vision cleared and you took in walls of stone with no windows. Oh, right. Your crew had mutinied and tied you up in a fairy circle approximately two weeks ago, leaving you to be found by two Fae who were undoubtedly the most obnoxious beings you had ever encountered.

Speak of the devil…

“All right, all right, I’m up!” You growled, sitting up and glaring at Astario.

He chuckled, unbothered by your anger. “Ooo, so scary.” He mocked. “I’m positively quivering.”

If I had my cutlass I’d cut him to ribbons. You grumbled silently. See who’s quivering then!

With one last glare you stood to your feet, the chains around your wrists and ankles clanking heavily.

Astario unlocked your cell, grabbing hold of your arm as he led you to a now-familiar area. It was almost like a coliseum, except underground and full of cordoned off smaller areas for testing and experimenting on humans.

As you were led to an empty area, you scanned your surroundings for a particular Fae who’d been watching you from day one. Sure enough, there he was again: tanned skin, bright red hair, vivid green eyes and blood-red clothes. The intensity of his gaze sent chills down your spine, but you weren’t sure exactly what kind of chills they were; whether they were born of unease, or excitement; and you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out.

Astario strapped you to the chair in the middle of the area and stepped back, grinning wickedly. “The Doctor will be with you shortly.”

A few minutes later two figures approached you, ones you recognized immediately. The taller figure was the one most of the Fae around here referred to as the Doctor, though you had once overheard someone calling him Vraelys and assumed that was his actual name.

You made sure never to call him by that name if, for some wild reason, you needed to talk to him; one of the lessons your parents had drummed into you was the power of a name in the hands of another being and thus to never give a Fae your birth name, nor call them by theirs, unless permission was given.

The second figure belonged to a younger-looking Fae with glowing teal eyes who told you to call her Dunrí. She was the Doctor’s bodyguard, a silent presence that followed him everywhere and would have been intimidating to any other human. You were not intimidated in the least, and admired privately how similar she was to you in temperament and viciousness. You once saw her cut down a human seeking revenge in mere seconds, her lithe form coated in gore and a mad smile on her face that you yourself had sported many times.

As the Doctor began to set things up for whatever he'd be doing to you today, he struck up a conversation with his usually silent bodyguard.

“I hear you'll be leaving me in a few weeks, after you come of age.” He commented casually.

Dunrí nodded. “I’ll be going to Oidhche, as I feel my temperament and moral leanings would fit better there.”

“Well, you’ll certainly be missed around here.” The Doctor declared as he filled a syringe with a strange, viscous pink fluid and walked towards you. “You were the best bodyguard I’ve had in a while.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, I hear they’re sending Jjong to replace me.”

“Oh really?”

The Doctor looked surprised as he jabbed the syringe into your arm and emptied it. You sat silently, not caring what the result was unless it horribly disfigured you in some way. You were far more interested in the conversation occurring around you.

“That must be why he’s been hanging around here more. I thought he was intrigued by the new human, but he must’ve just been getting the lay of the land.”

It occurred to you then that this “Jjong” had to be the Fae who’d been watching you every day. Another odd chill raked down your spine at the thought of being in such close proximity to him on a regular basis. It was so strange, the effect he had on you. You had no idea why you reacted in such a way whenever you saw him, and again you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know the reason.

You were no stranger to darkness and depravity, being the most vicious pirate to sail the seas in many a year. The sight of all these humans being experimented on would turn most stomachs, but you didn’t really care. Your own survival was top priority, everything else came second and most other people were just in the way. There was a part of you that wanted to see this mysterious Jjong up close and personal. From the way Dunrí spoke of him, he was even more vicious and skilled than she; mayhaps he was as dark and twisted as you were. Not that you planned on hanging around this place any longer than you had to.

Silence greeted you upon returning to the present moment. More than a little surprised, you looked around as far as you could from your position, but Dunrí and the Doctor were nowhere to be seen. Not even the green-eyed Jjong was watching you, an unusual move on his part if he was truly getting a feel for his surroundings as the Doctor surmised.

Taking advantage of this rare moment without supervision, you scanned all the implements on the tables around you to see if there was anything you could use to free yourself. To your delight, there was a pair of very sharp-looking scissors just within reach. Stretching out, you were able to grab hold of them and set about cutting through the straps that bound you.

It was not easy work, and by the time the last of the straps across your torso fell away, you felt there would be several new scars on your hands. Sure enough, when you brought your hands around to examine them, several small cuts in your palms were bleeding and somehow the tip of your left middle finger was missing. You shrugged, not minding the severed bit as you were focused solely on getting back to your own world. After all, your former crew had yet to face judgement for trying to get rid of you.

Peering around the corner revealed that the rest of the experimentation was proceeding as normal. If the place had been empty, you'd have suspected a trap or test of some kind. Even so, you hadn't ruled that possibility out entirely. Having long ago learned how to make absolutely no noise when sneaking up on an enemy or trying to pass quietly through an area, it took you mere seconds to make your way out of the coliseum and up the stairs to the floor your cell was on.

As you rounded a corner you nearly ran into a guard standing watch. Luckily, his back was to you and so you were able to slip down another hallway without being noticed. A large stone door stood at the end of the hallway and you approached it cautiously, scanning the surrounding area constantly. When no one appeared to defend the door, you pushed it slowly open.

The sun was almost blinding as you stepped out into the fresh air, a welcome change after so long stuck inside. Once your eyes had adjusted you took in your surroundings once more, planning an escape route in your head. Your gaze landed on a fair-sized river winding away into the distance, and the faint shimmer of what might be the ocean. Perhaps you could sail your way out of this realm and back into your own. Your parents had made you learn about all different kinds of Fae back then, you were pretty sure there were some who lived in the water. Surely there were places in the water where one could cross between worlds.

Your plan made, you set off at a brisk jog. The first step was to cross the river and follow its course from the woods, where there would hopefully be less eyes on you. You prayed you could make it to cover before anyone discovered you were missing. The river was deeper than you expected, water swirling just above your knees as you waded through it. The rocks along the bottom were smooth and slippery as you walked across them, and you had to slow down a bit in order to prevent taking an unplanned swim. Once on the other side you plunge back into the woods before stopping to catch your breath for a moment and assess where to go next.

In the distance you could see what looked to be the ruins of a castle in the midst of this stretch of woods. You figured it was probably best not to try and take refuge in those ruins, it’d be just your luck to come across some species of Fae that likes to live in ruins. You couldn’t see the immediate area around the ruins, so you decided to venture a little closer in order to better ascertain the lay of the land and figure out how to get around the ruins without alerting anyone to your presence.

About halfway through your trek an unexpected wave of dizziness washed over you and you stumbled, tripping over a root and tumbling to the leaf-covered ground. You caught yourself just before hitting your head on a much larger root and laid where you fell, eyes wide as you clutched the grass. Your body trembled violently as the sensations of nausea and dizziness battled within you, and for the first time in your life you felt utterly helpless.

It was well past sunset by the time you reached the point where you couldn’t take much more, and with the last shreds of consciousness you managed to drag yourself under a huge bush, curling into a ball as your weary body gave in and you passed out.

When you finally returned to your senses you were still under the bush, but now with the sun overhead, pouring light directly into your eyes. You winced at the brightness as you rose shakily into a sitting position, the size of the bush still keeping you fully hidden. You took stock of your body, assessing your condition in the aftermath of whatever the hell had happened the night before. It was utterly confounding, nothing like that had ever happened to you before and if you were being perfectly honest, you were a little scared. Fear was an odd and unfamiliar feeling to you. Generally you were the one causing the fear, not falling victim to it.

A faint rustling came from behind you, your weariness instantly forgotten as you remembered what you were doing before the dizziness hit you. The soreness fled your muscles and you crouched within your hiding place, ready to spring from the bush at a moment's notice. Not for the first time, you wished for your cutlass, cursing the predicament your former crew put you in that had robbed you of your favourite weapon.

After a few tense moments the rustling stopped and a small but strange-looking creature popped out of a nearby bush. It sniffed the air for a moment, then froze and jerked its head towards your hiding place. Shit, it caught my scent. You thought, glancing around to see if you could find an escape route. The Fae must’ve sent it ahead to keep track of me.

Your wandering eyes caught sight of a break in the trees and you paused, fully taking in the scene. Just a few feet ahead there was a break in the woods where a path ran up to the ruins. After that was another patch of woods, beyond which you could just make out another break which you assumed was for a second road. There was a fair-sized stretch on either side of the road to the ruins that had absolutely no cover. Seeing no other option you moved into a crouch, readied yourself, and sprang from the bush, sprinting across the road and back into the woods with the creature hot on your heels.

Just as you had guessed, this patch of woods was small and soon gave way to another road, after which you saw more forest with no visible breaks in the distance. As you plunged into the trees once more, a gentle breeze blew past you, carrying with it the faint scent of saltwater. Hope surged within you and your pace quickened. You were so close, just a bit further and-

Wham! Something invisible suddenly blocked your path and you crashed into it, falling flat on your ass almost before you realised what happened. Before you could recover your footing, a figure loomed over you and your heart sank. You tried to scoot away and get back onto your feet, but your back hit the invisible thing, trapping you in place.

Looking up, you finally got a good look at the Fae who caught you and your heart skipped a beat. It was none other than Jjong, his familiar form filling your vision. The only odd thing you noticed was that his eyes were now a glowing blood-red instead of their usual intense green. He reached down, hand closing around your arm as he yanked you to your feet.

“Let go of me!” You growled, eyes narrowing. In this moment you didn’t care that he was an otherworldly Fae and you were only a human. You weren’t about to let freedom slip through your fingers when it was this close. You twisted around, lifting your feet off the ground. Using his grip on your arm as leverage, you planted your feet on his chest and pushed him away from you with all your might. You did actually seem to catch him off guard, creating a distance of at least three feet between the two of you.

A sting of pain shot through the hand you’d injured while escaping and you looked down at it, surprised to see that the previously scabbed-over wound was now slowly bleeding. A faint sort of rippling sound reached your ears and you looked up to see Jjong using magic to swirl a bubble of something around between his hands. Upon closer inspection you saw that it was blood floating within the bubble, most likely the reason why you were bleeding again. He looked up at you, smirked, and crushed the bubble in one palm.

A familiar wave of dizziness and nausea crashed over you and you crumpled to the ground, rendered helpless once more and unable to defend yourself against the Fae responsible for your current anguish. Just before passing out yet again, you heard the sound of other voices approaching. Several of the voices rose in anger, clearly arguing about something, until Jjong let out a yell that silenced all of them.

“I caught her, so I have the right to claim her! Tell the Doctor to…”

Everything faded to black as unconsciousness embraced you once more.

As you slowly came back to wakefulness, you expected to be back in your cell awaiting more experimentation. Instead, however, you found yourself in a small room with a dirt ceiling, dirt walls and floors, as well as the simple bed upon which you rested. Confused and curious, you stood to your feet and walked towards the room’s entrance. Trying your best to go unnoticed, you stuck your head out and slowly looked around.

Dirt. Everything was made of it, save for a few sparse pieces of furniture. You wondered who lived here, and why you had been brought here instead of back to your cell. Then you vaguely recalled Jjong saying something about catching you and having a right to claim you, so you decided this was probably where he lived. You wondered what his motives were for this sudden change. Would he perform his own experiments on you, or would you still be taken to the Doctor everyday? You supposed you were about to find out, considering the voices you heard just ahead.

As you got closer you were able to distinguish what was being said, recognizing Astario’s familiar voice alongside Jjong’s deeper tone.

“You can’t just claim her and not allow things to continue as they were!” Astario complained. “The Doctor was just beginning to make progress with her experiments.”

“I understand that.” Jjong replied calmly. “But I have my own reasons for claiming her, and the Doctor will just have to deal with it.”

“Now look here-”

“You can trust that if I ever change my mind, you’ll be the first to know.”

Astario grumbled under his breath before grudgingly accepting Jjong’s words. There was some shuffling, then there was silence. After a moment, Jjong’s voice rang out once more.

“You can come out now.” It wasn’t said mockingly or angrily, as if he was upset by your eavesdropping. With the tone he used, he could’ve been discussing the weather or something similarly mundane. Curiosity winning you over once more, you rounded the corner and stopped, caught up in the intensity of those brilliant green eyes.

Shaking yourself free after a moment, you put voice to the questions you’d been longing to ask.

“Why am I here?” You kept your expression hard and free of emotion. Vernon once called the look your ‘pirate mask’, and the phrase had stuck ever since.

Jjong returned your look with one of his own as he replied “I have my reasons.”

You scoffed. “You know, the last person who brushed me off like that wound up dead in some forgotten back alley.”

Jjong eyed you darkly. “You’re not in the best position to be making threats, human. You are in my house after all.”

You met his gaze without backing down, the barest hint of a smile ghosting across your lips. “Are you aware you’ve allowed a bloodthirsty pirate into your home?”

Jjong merely smirked. “I am, actually. I saw some of your memories when I was using your blood to track you.”

You froze, staring at him for a moment as the pieces connected in your head. “That was the first time I felt sick, wasn’t it? You were using my blood to find where I was.”

Jjong nodded but said nothing. There was silence for a few moments, then he stood to his feet.

“I’m going to visit a friend, but I shouldn’t be away too long.” He fixed you with another intense stare. “I’d advise against going out when I’m not around, there are quite a few Fae who would love to get their hands on you, and at least half of them are more violent than me.”

And just like that he was gone, and you were alone once more.

«-Previous | Next-»

[sofaradaysogood]

♙: Sharing a bed

Faraday is asleep.

Thinking about it, Dean’s not sure he’s ever really seen him sleeping. Every time he’s seen Faraday loose and lazy and eyes closed, he’s cracked open an eye just as Dean has concluded he must be dreaming, like the mere thought of himself in Dean’s mind is enough to wake him.

But now, he’s out. His skin is pale, almost yellowed, bruising dark circles under his eyes. Unease lies heavy in the set of his brow, in the way his fingers are curled tight on the pillow, and Dean swears to god that a shuddering breeze plucks at the back of his neck when Faraday murmurs in his sleep.

I don’t feel so good, he’d said, wan and swaying, after the giddy, adrenaline-spiked laughter had died down and they’d brushed the glass from their hair reassured themselves that She was gone, a few near-black drops of blood clinging to the grass the only trace that she had ever been there. 

The moment that the headache had hit had been tangible one. Faraday’s face had tightened all at once, something in the air growing still and heavy, like the humid calm before a storm.

     (Dean thought it was another glimpse of Faraday’s magic, the      world reacting to his suffering. He didn’t realise it was exactly      the opposite -- that the world had turned away from the fairy,      that the wind and the trees and the sky and the rain had       recoiled from the gun-metal and exhaust and radio-static in his      veins.)

Dean had driven like a madman to get him home, get him somewhere safe, and Faraday had staggered when he’d climbed out the car, knees buckling, and yeah, it had been scary. Even when he’d grinned weakly and thrown out some bullshit line about Dean making him weak at the knees.

But Cas had only frowned slightly and said I think that you should go to bed, and had been sufficiently serious to address Faraday by name. Not Faraday or even Joshua; some curling, maddening collection of syllables that Dean could never recall even right after he’d heard them spoken, let alone pronounce. His fae name. Faraday had told him it meant the sound of starlings in first flight, or rather that it was the sound of starlings in first flight, or perhaps it was the world’s expression of its feeling of starlings in first flight, and Dean hadn’t even pretended to understand.

But Cas had been calm enough to quiet the edge of desperation to Dean’s worry and leave it manageable, and Faraday had wobbled off and fallen onto Dean’s bed without a word or a hesitation.

And he’s been asleep for hours, now. Dean had removed his shoes, careful-slow, but Faraday hadn’t even stirred. He doesn’t stir, either, when Dean shucks his own shoes and his jeans and crawls himself onto the bed, too, slides himself under a heavy arm and curls close.

Faraday smells different, and familiar all at once. Takes Dean a moment to realise that he doesn’t smell like Faraday, he smells like the Impala: like worn leather and rock salt and the open road.

Dean sighs, breath gathering warm against Faraday’s collarbone, and eases a hand over the fairy’s ribs.

Faraday shifts, and sighs, and pulls Dean a little closer without waking.

     Now, more than ever, Faraday feels like home, for all the feeling’s borrowed.     Stolen. Dean doesn’t care. His baby had saved their lives, and he’s happy     to lend the security of her constancy out, for just a little while.

[duocorpora]

there on the bench is a tub of peanut butter , hasn't even been cracked open . on top of it is a receipt , folded into an origami toad .

He almost doesn’t notice it.

It’s the folded paper that catches his eye, shape unusual and not natural, folder corners and carefully tucked edges that stand out. It’s a little frog, or a toad, the printed black ink of the receipt tracking across the surface and showing through from the back, lending it the mottled, patterned air of its real likeness.

He huffs a breath of laughter, quiet and surprised as long fingers pluck it from the lid, turn it side to side.

He still has the crane, for all he’d poured out annoyance at the minor theft, the half-spoonful left to be scraped out with difficulty. The frog/toad joins it, on the shelf above his bed, nestled at a corner. Guilty keepsakes.

      (It’s been so long since he got to have any, since he had a home to       keep them in.)

The jar of peanut butter is hidden. Better safe than sorry.

[crepeycrepeyspacewizard]

Shopping With Mothman - a Kylux Cryptids AU Fic

Kylo Ren need some retail therapy. Hux really isn't sure the 'retail' part is necessary, though he's pretty certain he'll need therapy himself if this day gets any weirder.

Inspired by the Tumblr post- "mothman is real he asked me for chapstick in an overly air-conditioned adidas store"

Rated: Mature | 4,137 words | Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Paranormal Investigators, Cryptozoology, Sidhe, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Mythology - Freeform, Shopping, Nude Photos, That's Not How The Force Works, Comedy, Partial Nudity, Magic, Telepathy, Marriage, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), Mothman is Gay, Rosy Maple Moth, Poorly Executed Magic, chapstick abuse,  #LetKyloRenGetAPenisTattoo2k17, discussion of genitalia, sporting goods store, Franz Kafka References, Baby Cryptids, Flirting, Mr Blobby Reference

Happy Birthday to the ever wonderful @darcydent !!!!

[tanoraqui]

alright time to distract myself in the traditional habit of my people: niche crossover au in bullet points. continuation of this.

The Duchy of Lotuse Lakes consists mostly of a bunch of very huge, deep lakes and some of the surrounding land - basically the Great Lakes, but at a warmer latitude. The Merrow rule from underwater (the Jiang family, for the last couple centuries), but the duchy includes a few floating settlements (in the Summerlands) and a few small towns on the shores, the largest of which is called Lotus Pier. The merrows’ collective attitude towards the inhabitants of these, faerie and human alike, is roughly, “they’re shitty landdwellers by they’re OUR shitty landdwellers.”

Wei Wuxian is wandering Lotus Pier when Wen Qing finds him. One might expect him to be in the knowe beneath the waters, considering he’s the duke’s right-hand knight, but Wen Qing is one of the few people who knows why he’s not

- (in this case, he was actually there on legitimate purposes, investigating the disappearance of a changeling child from her bed. we’ll get to that soon.)

[Travel time] later, the Yiling Patriarch stalks into the royal knowe. Once called the Sun Palace and occupied by Daoine Sidhe, now called Glamour Hall and...occupied by Daoine Sidhe. Jin Zixun is the Duke of Sparks Amid Snow, awarded the duchy “in recognition of his valor in battle” when the main Jin line moved into the Glamour Hall with the crown. He’s...”respected” is generous, but “powerful” is unfortunately undeniable, especially in a room where his uncle the king is literally holding court

Wei Wuxian all but slams him against a wall (after casually downing Lan Wangji’s wine, ofc). “Where’s Wen Qionglin?”

“Who?”

“Wen Qionglin. Wen Ning. He’s supposed to be one of your prisoners, but now he’s missing - along with, I hear, two dozen children, changeling and pureblood alike.” He taps idle fingers on he shaft of the war trident carried over one shoulder. “You have three seconds to answer.”

“What?!”

“Wei Wuxian!”

“Two.”

There are hands drifting toward weapons throughout the hall, and hands carefully held back from weapons. There is wary eye contact and the rising scent of blood, and it might be Wei Wuxian’s magic and it might be the onlookers’ battlefield memories

Because here’s the story: this world is an inverse of canon: the Yiling Patriarch doesn’t raise the dead.* This Yiling Patriarch doesn’t die.

it’s theoretically possible. The general consensus among those who fought in the Sunshot Campaign was this: if you beheaded him in one clean stroke, that would probably, probably be the end of it.

But it would need to be one stroke and it would need to be as fast as light itself, because those who fought in the Sunshot Campaign have seen him take a sword through the heart, pull it out with a laugh, and slit the throat of the knight who’d thrust it. They’ve seen him scream in pain when hit with elfshot, then yank the arrow out and keep going. They’ve watched the Yiling Patriarch tear through entire battlefields with the ferocity and skill of the best Merrow warrior in a generation and the insouciant invulnerability of something none of them understand, and leave none but himself standing.

oh, and the trident is definitely tipped with iron

“O - ”

“Blind Michael!” Jin Zixun cries. “We left them out for Blind Michael. I made a deal.” He lifts his chin like it’s something to be proud of. “To protect the children of Sparks Amid Snow, and of the royal lands.”

“Blind Michael takes children,” Wei Wuxian says through the rising uproar. “Wen Ning is of age.”

Jin Zixun shrugs. “He refused to leave the brats, so we left him with the rest, and clearly the offer was accepted.”

“No,” Wen Qing whispers brokenly when Wei Wuxian tells her. And then, with a shuddering breath, “Okay. It was good of you to find out.” (Because thank you is not a thing she will burden him with. Because she will not recover from this, she knows she will not, but she’s lost to much not to know that she’ll go on anyway. Somehow.)

“No,” Wei Wuxian says firmly. “I said I’d find him, and I will. C’mon - I have an idea, but we have to go back to Lotus Lakes.”

TBC

[pantherlover]

Rosemary and Rue Re-Read: Part 9

Here’s part 9!  As always: possible spoilers up to Night and Silence!

Chapter 17

Danny!  I was so happy to see him!!  Danny’s definitely one of Toby’s more ride-or-die people and I love him.  And him mentioning that she did something for his sister made me even more curious about what Toby did before the pond.  Hopefully we’ll get to see it someday!

I can’t remember if Devin’s lying about Julie calling to tell him about the attack, but considering the state Julie was in when Toby left her, I’m inclined to say yes.  But if he is lying, how did he know?

Devin’s a creep and an asshole, but his potions are really cool.  Considering how often Toby gets busted up in the process of doing her job, you’d think she’d have learnt more first aid.

I can’t figure out what Devin’s main motivation in trying to convince Toby to drop Evening’s case is.  I think, in his own way, that he does care for Toby and doesn’t want to see her get hurt - buuuuut I think ultimately he wants her gone for pragmatic reasons.  It’s almost impressive, in a super fucked up way, how he plays Toby from both sides?  If an assassin gets to her first, and - ahem - convinces her to give up the hope chest, then he’s achieved his goal with minimal risk to himself.  But if Toby manages to beat the assassins, then he can slide in and act as her ‘old friend’, and convince her to give it to him.  Either way, he wins.  Too bad for him that Toby’s a) waaaaaaaaaay too stubborn to die, and b) not super inclined to forgive a betrayal like that.

Uggggggggggggggh.  I had managed to successfully repress the fact that Devin slept with Toby (immediately after sending an assassin after her, fuck you Devin), so this was not the most enjoyable ending to a chapter.

Chapter 18

I can’t figure out what would’ve happened if Toby had told Devin about the binding.  I don’t think it would’ve been anything good, but I’m still a little curious about how Devin would’ve handled it.

And Toby gets fired, because her week needed to get worse! (Although as someone who’s currently working in a grocery store, I’m a little skeptical about the fact that they fired her after she didn’t show up for two days.  I’ve worked with someone who didn’t show up for a week, and she still ended up quitting instead of getting fired)

Was there a Suspicious Reason that Cagney and Lacey were locked out?  I can’t remember if they just escaped when Devin came in, or if there was a reason they were locked out.

Oh man, she still hasn’t called Sylvester.  How long has it been at this point since she visited him?  Two days?  He must be Freaking Out at this point.  And it’s going to be AT LEAST another day before she can call him, if I remember correctly.

Gillian was standing on the doorstep.  Fuuuuuuuuck youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu, Devin.  This was absolutely the lowest thing you could’ve pulled on Toby, you slimy dickwad.

However, this is making me think of an AU where Gillian actually does come visit Toby on her own.  Maybe she was never able to get rid of her fantasies that her Mom would come back, and she wants to find out for herself why she left?  Maybe Gillian’s angry and tracks Toby down to confront her, but Toby just... does not react the way that she was expecting?  It’s an interesting scenario to think about.

(Okay, taking pictures of Gillian with a telephoto lens is a little on the stalkerish side there, Toby)

The Doppelganger making Toby run and then slowly stalking her when she knows Toby’s trapped is goddamn creepy.

I have to ask, Toby.  When the Doppelganger was distracted by Dare and Manuel at the door, why didn’t you go for the gun?!?!?  It couldn’t have been that far from the door that it was that much more of a risk to try to grab it, and it would have been much more effective at taking down the Doppelganger than a wooden bat!

Daaaaaaaaare, oh honey, you are so tough and brave, and I wish we’d been able to see you grow up.

There’s something very sweet about Dare and Manuel calling Toby ‘Ms. Daye’.  I don’t think we’ve ever heard anyone else call her that.

And there’s Toby down for the count again!  How many times has she lost consciousness from blood loss; three times in two days?  She probably should’ve guessed that she wasn’t really Daoine Sidhe just from that.

Chapter 19

Why did Devin send Dare and Manuel to Toby if he’d already sent the Doppelganger to kill her?  Did he want them to get caught in the crossfire?

Every time that Toby describes how Devin operates, it skeeves me out even more.  It makes me sad that Toby doesn’t seem to see how fucked up it is.

The gauzy purple nightgown is certainly... a choice.  Why did Devin even have that?  I’m assuming it wasn’t one of the kids’.

Eventually [the binding] would be strong enough that I wouldn’t be able to fight it, and it would force me to ride the memories of Evening’s dying moments until my heart gave out.  She probably didn’t mean for it to be that way...

Haha.  Well...  If you think about it, it actually would’ve been pretty cruel to kill Toby in a way that she would’ve been able to handle, if she’d been given any training in how to do it.  

“I met him a long time ago, when I ran away from... never mind what I was running away from.  I was trying to avoid places where people might know me, and I managed to get myself pretty messed up.  One day I just turned around and he was there.  Said a friend told him where to find me.  He asked if I might want to try something new.”

I don’t know if this’ll somehow be important eventually, but: who was Devin’s friend??  My theory is that it was actually the Luidaeg, who wanted to make sure that Toby wasn’t fending for herself alone on the streets, and that’s one of the reasons why the Luidaeg owed Devin.

Oh, there are so many gross implications in Toby and Dare’s conversation.

I blinked at her.  “He’s not holding you captive.”  “If you think that, you got stupid.”

Thank you, Dare!  Demanding people do things they very much do not want to do, or they risk losing your shelter/community, is at best coercion, and at worse it’s a whole other list of things and they’re all AWFUL.

Oh nooooo, Dare asking how Toby got out, and Toby promising that she’d help the kids leeeeaaave.  Toby doesn’t want to be looked at as a hero, because all she does is disappoint people!  sasdfljasdfj I’m not equipped to handle thiiiiiiiiis

That’s it for this recap!  As always, come talk to me about things!

[sabraeal]

Neither the Hunter nor the Quarry

Fae AU | Previous

Obiyuki AU Bingo Magic AU

The taste of honey sits cloying on this tongue, sour as it ages. Obi spits, eager to be rid of it.

The wind catches, and he’s hardly had the chance to relish its absence before the spittle is thrown back at his feet. He can’t help but huff out a laugh, bemused. Most masters never thought about the skies of their domains save for their color and the spires they could thrust through them, but this Izana, prince of the daoine sidhe -- it seemed there was no angle that missed his omnipotent gaze.

Obi lifts a leg, surveying the damage. Ah, and he’d just polished those boots this morning. Lucky thing that he had no more good impressions left to make.

With the ease of habit, he pulls the shadows to him. Like a quilt sewn with fog,  they settle softly against his skin, more comforting to him than a mother’s touch. The crisp bite of autumn’s chill floods his senses, driving out the last of that sickly taste. That bit with the trees was an old magick, learned with trickery and made his own, but even still, it leaves a rank tang in his mouth.

Some fey take to magic like this -- aes sidhe, for one, born liars the moment they were brought into being, silver tongues dripping with honey as they spoke -- but sweet nothings has never been his way. He worked best with masks and mirrors, with sharp blades and deep shade. To put himself into the sun’s full view -- it had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Like a shoe worn a size too small.

Still, it served him well for this, as little as he liked it. Surprisingly potent, for such a little thing.

He takes in a breath and coughs. Not so surprising, really. This whole place stank of charm and glamour, each gust buffeting more of that sweet scent against him.

He lets out a huff, cozening himself between crenelations. That girl should thank him for this; no matter how fair of face these aes sidhe are -- and rumor had that these princes had that gift in spades -- they were not men. It was not so long ago, not to any of these fey, that mortals were prey. To more than were apt to admit it, they still were. It had been foolish of her to forget.

At least now whatever thrall they have over her would fade, and maybe one day she would find herself wandering out of this mound, back to the world of men.

Whatever still is left for her then.

The wind blows hard through the spires, and Obi tucks his nose beneath his scarf to ward off the chill. In the mortal realm, the land would stretch out before him like patches on a quilt, but here the laws that bind man’s reality are only passing acquaintances with those of the knowe. Despite the simulacrum of the sun burning brightly above the master’s palace, a light fog settles outside its gate, obscuring the road out to the city, only the tops of the ancient pines piercing through its cover. From the ground it would be merely another nice day in Wistal, overseen by their lord, but from above, well --

It seems His Highness Izana knows better than any that enemies may come from anywhere, even above.

Obi lets loose a sigh, rubbing gloved palms over his thighs, bracing his feet beneath him. Now with that unpleasant business concluded, he could go--

It stings him in his chest, a hard buzz that makes his teeth jitter and grind. He looses his footing -- him! -- and it’s only reflex that saves him, his hands sweeping out to brace.

He gives a hard pant, confused. That isn’t the choke collar of his geasa, but instead a whip’s lash --

His spell. Someone has broken his spell.

Obi scans the ground with a bird’s eyes. That fog might cover the lands outside the palace, but his quarry would be inside now, content with their cunning. The prince maybe -- the second one, the one who started this mess -- or one of his aides -- the daoine sidhe one, not the dog. How they had known so soon, he cannot even hazard a guess, but --

A flicker of red catches at the corner of his vision, like a cardinal through the bush.

Not just someone broke his spell -- she did. That little mortal girl. Unbelievable.

His lips quirk, amused. He underestimated her. Looks like he’ll have to discourage her the old fashioned way.

He draws the shadows tight around him, not like a blanket, but like a shroud. This time he would be careful -- he more than anyone should have known what a mortal might be capable of when he lingers so steadily at the threshold.

Cunning though she may be to so deftly untangle such a working, there’s no mage alive that can ignore a spell-breaking, She knows it too; she’s off like a shot through the arcades, disappearing behind liana and lingerer alike. Even with his sharp eyes, he catches mere glimpses of her, hair roan as hind’s rump, disappearing into the brush.

He takes bow into hand, mouth curling into a grin. Hind she may be, but he is the hunter, and though this misstep may have spooked her, he won’t make another. His arrows are heart-seekers, all.

The shadows shudder as he leaps to the next parapet, and then to another. It is harder with the way the sun shines overhead, burning away the shade, giving him little purchase where he lands. Still, he’s more than just a few tricks in a bag, more than just what magicks he could steal -- he’s skilled too, naturally agile. The shadows are a help, but his body alone is no hindrance.

It’s not hard to stalk her flight; unlike a hind, she takes the most direct route to safety, bounding past servants and sentinels alike, barely avoiding a tragic brush with the aes sidhe that populate this court. The guards may reach out to hold her, but she’s swift, dodging limbs as a deer does underbrush.

Ah, that’s the issue, working with amateurs -- never quite as good at their jobs as the situation needs. Still, he grins.

She may be fleet-footed, but oh, she is not the fastest one here.

Obi flies from shadow to shadow at a breathless pace, the world blurring around him as he fixes on his goal. There is only one way to deal with quarry in flight -- cut off their route of escape.

He hurls himself to a balcony, one that affords him an uninterrupted view of the tower that leads to the a youngest highness’s apartments. In this world, she has but one sure ally -- an elaborate, yet romantic, form of suicide in a place like this.

He grins. She’ll find that out soon enough.

A shaft of ash catches under his palm; his cache here is limited, but he only needs a single shot. Oak and elm and alder might fly true, but ash is the only wood that would hold what needed doing. His fingers pass over the shaft, the scent of copper and acrid smoke curling up from his working. He holds it up to the false light, assessing.

Perfect. Even a master would be hard-pressed to do better.

Red flashes again, that tempting glimpse of hind in flight, and he nocks the arrow, the strength of his whole chest pulling bowstring back to its limit. Ebon-black feathers graze his cheek; an unwelcome caress, an unwelcome memory.

He looses.

It strikes home. He grins to see her chest stutter, to see the way her jaw hangs slack. Her hands tremble as she reaches out, her touch so ginger -- but the runes flash on the shaft, and she flinches at the sting --

Right before she rips the arrow right out of the wall.

“What?” he breathes, soaked in disbelief. It’s not possible --

She takes a staggering step, her face rucked up in concentration, and then another, and another, until she’s moving at a run, sprinting up the tower steps.

“She’s not stopping,” he wonders, and for once, he laughs, even as the backlash leaves him breathless. He should have known; a girl like that doesn’t fear anything, not even death.

His lips peel back in a grin as he hunches over, bow and civility abandoned. It’s been so long since he’s had a proper chase.

He no longer keeps his distance, jumping from parapet to parapet -- no, this is personal now, and he flings himself down to the balconies, to the trees. Her hair is bright so close, like a fox-tail, a tease he can’t resist. He catches the sweet apple scene of her magic on the air, and, ah, how that makes his blood run hot beneath the too-delicate shroud of his skin.

Mortal lords train their hounds for this, to flush out the vixen and herd her in, to catch her but never give the killing bite --

But Obi is no lord’s dog.

Knives slide between fingers like claws, and his stomach surges with pleasure, the victory of a kill well done singing through his veins.

“Looks like you’re headed home, young lady,” he purrs, “one way or another.”

He pulls back his arm, tension coiled in every bone --

And she stares straight at him.

It’s enough to give him pause, but he only has a moment to wonder at the lack of fear on her face, at the annoyance --

And then she rips the shadows from him, like a bandage from a wound.

By shadow and shade, no one’s ever done that before.

She knows it too; as much as he goggles at her, she does the same in return. He’s struck by her, by the spray of freckles across her pale skin and the vivid green of her eyes, like the sun viewed through a leaf. She’s so small this close, even smaller than he suspected, but even so --

“Shirayuki!”

She jumps, whirling to face that shout, arrow tucked neatly behind her back. Obi jumps too, dragging at the shadows to shroud himself, to be invisible as the youngest highness nears, face the very picture of concern.

“Zen!” she gasps, voice as clear as a bell, sweet as a song, and --

And now is the time for his hasty escape. The prince complicates this whole competition far too much.

With a grin, he leaps to a shaded column, feet dangling over the balustrade. There will be time yet to finish this game.

After all, it’s only just getting interesting.

[professorsparklepants]

I have a very nice overwatch au concept to share, and that is: October Daye fusion au

Symmetra is Tuatha de Danann, obviously. Her teleporter is literally e x a c t l y how Tuatha powers work. Perfect match.

Lucio is an Ellyllon. Magical singing healers! The wings make a decent sub for his mobility, imo.

You'd think Mercy would be Ellyllon too, but no, she's Tylwyth Teg. They're alchemists, which fits very well with her biotic technology, and the fact that they fly with yarrow twigs is a great reference to witch Mercy.

Moira is also Tylwyth Teg because it's perfect. Like.... those unnatural, piercing eyes. Come on. She's already got 'em in canon.

Tracer is a candela. Teleporter race with big glowing lights that follow them around and are tied to their life force. It's an excellent fit.

I wanna say Gabe is a cait sidhe because SHADOW ROADS but I'm not 100% on it.

If he is though he's definitely a king and Jack is king of one of the divided kingdoms and Gabe's court is definitely right where the capital of Jack's demesne is.

The Shimadas are probably Daoine Sidhe, the rich little bastards. Hanamura is basically a knowe and they're practically criminal royalty anyway.

I haven't decided on a race but McCree is definitely a Merlin and definitely has the thinnest blood of anyone in Overwatch.

Torb is probably a coblynau (I think those are the only established metal workers?) and Brigitte is definitely mixed with something else.

Please imagine Orisa as a hind. Please. An enormous antelope deertaur woman with big antlers and velvety ears. I would die for this.

JUNKRAT IS A PIXIE I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

If you have any idea what I'm talking about hmu about those other motherfuckers.

[kpop-stories-21]

Stains of Crimson | Part 1

Group: ATEEZ

Pairing: Jongho x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes, & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Dark Fae AU, Fantasy AU, Angst, Smut, Dark Content

Content & Trigger Warnings: Daoine Sidhe!Jongho, Pirate Captain!Reader, dark content, graphic descriptions of fighting, graphic descriptions of death, graphic descriptions of gore, blood, injuries, brief & graphic mention of torture

Summary: On the eve of a semi-successful catch, your crew mutinies, leaving you tied up on some unknown island inside a circle of mushrooms

General tags: @kpop---scenarios @stardragongalaxy @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @trashlord-007 @liliesofdreamsskz @pyeonghongrie-main @naturalogre @bxffietheblxxdy @sanjoongie ATEEZ tags: @lovelyhange @spicyseonghwas @firefox79 @alex-tinyy

If you want to be added to my taglist, click here

Network pings: @kdiarynet | @cultofdionysusnet | @sandsofire

MDNI banner, divider, and support banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

«-Previous | Next-»

“Ship ahoy!” Came the cry from the crow’s nest. Spyglass raised, you turned your gaze to the sea and there, just off the starboard bow, was your prize: a merchant’s ship called the Santa Avaña, which was reportedly filled to near bursting with all manner of priceless jewels and artefacts. This haul should allow you and your crew to take a lavish holiday somewhere more friendly to pirates.

“Orders, Captain?” First Mate Jeonghan asked, coming up beside you. Pocketing your spyglass, you turned to him with fire in your grey eyes.

“We’ll use that approaching fog bank to our advantage, come up near her stern and take her from behind. With luck, they’ll never even see us coming.”

“Aye, sounds like a good plan to me.” Jeonghan nodded and left to pass on the plan of attack.

A chill wind whipped the icy fog through the air, threatening to rip your hat from its perch. You stood ready at the bow of your own ship, the Poison, one hand on your cutlass and the other on your pistol. Just a bit closer…closer…now!

“Attack!” You cried out, grabbing hold of a rope and swinging aboard the other ship. Whipping your cutlass out, you immediately began to hack your way through soldier and servant alike. The pirate scourge Scarla had never left a soul alive before, and you certainly weren’t going to start now.

Blood painted the deck in a crimson display, the battle nearly over before it had really begun. Many a new conscript had complained of ears ringing from all the screams, but you had long since grown used to it. In fact, some small part of you even enjoyed those sounds of the abject terror that preluded death.

Before long silence reigned once more on the deck of the Santa Avaña, peaceful in her dying moments. None but the ship’s captain still drew breath, and he was only saved in order to unlock the cargo hold.

“You filthy fucking pirates!” He screamed, half-mad with fury and fright. “Just wait until the navy hears about this. They’ll catch you one day, and then you’ll hang for your crimes!!”

You laughed mirthlessly, fingers gripping his hair tightly as you hauled him off his knees up to eye level. “But who will tell the Navy if there are no survivors?”

The captain wheezed out a laugh, spittle mixing with the blood pooling in his mouth. “I feared such an attack, and left my son instructions to alert the Navy if I failed to arrive at my destination.”

You grinned wickedly, knowing what you were about to say would likely break this pathetic man. “Your son wouldn’t happen to have the name William, would he?”

The captain’s body sagged, some of the life leaving his eyes. “You- What did you do to him, you monster?!”

You giggled lightly, the growing flames that surrounded you making you look like the madwoman you were. “Oh, nothing too bad; just cut off a few fingers, maybe a limb or two. Whatever it took for him to send a letter to the Navy informing them that your trip would be delayed a few days. Then we left him there. He’s probably bled out by now, you know.”

An almost animalistic cry ripped from the captain’s blood-speckled lips, the willpower draining from his eyes as he slumped back onto his knees. Weakly digging through his pockets, he produced the key to the ship’s cargo hold, tossing it at your feet with a half-hearted attempt at disgust.

“Just take it and kill me. I have nothing left to fight for anymore.”

You leaned down, picking up the key and pocketing it with a chuckle. “I find that quite agreeable, don’t you boys?” The cheers of your crew filled the once silent air.

“Vernon and Seungcheol, with me. The rest of you, take care of this pitiful excuse for a human and prepare to finish burning the ship.”

The two crewmates you named split from the group and fell in behind you as you made your way into the lower decks of the ship. You found the cargo hold almost immediately, and unlocked it with the captain’s key. To your dismay, however, the hold was only half full and many of the items didn’t even look to be worth two dirt-covered gold pieces.

“Lying bastards!” You hissed, features dark with fury. Red-hot colour stained your vision and you swung your cutlass wildly, taking out your anger out on the ship itself. After several tense moments, you finally came back to yourself and looked at the two concerned men apologetically. They said nothing, merely nodding in acknowledgement, then Seungcheol went and fetched a few of the crew to help carry everything back to the ship.

As things were being transferred, you got the odd sense that some of the crew were harbouring feelings of anger or suspicion towards you, but you chalked it up to lingering nerves from your momentary breakdown and left it at that. Once back onboard the Poison, the archers among your crew lit flaming arrows and set the remains of the Santa Avaña ablaze.

You watched the hunk of burning wood sink into the unforgiving waves, then turned back to your own ship. Many of the crewmembers were huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Something about it put you on edge, so you made a mental note to ask Seungcheol about it later. For now, it was time for everyone to rest and recover from the battle(if it could even be called that).

You were awakened in the dark of night by a hand clapped over your mouth. Instinctively you reached for your cutlass, only to find that your arms were restrained behind you. You cast your gaze around the room, trying to identify your attacker, and were shocked to find that it was none other than Seungcheol who was holding you down. He at least had the decency to look somewhat apologetic when you made eye contact.

“Sorry Captain.” He murmured as he wrapped a cloth over your lips. “Me and some of the others have been feeling like you’re holding out on us, keeping some of the booty for yourself. This seemed the only way to change things.”

So that’s what all this is about. You mused to yourself. A mutiny. Rage rose up within you and you sat, seething, while Seungcheol bound you tightly.

“A few of the boys were against the mutiny; namely Joshua, Vernon, Seungkwan, and Seokmin; but they were outnumbered by the rest of us. The place we’re sailing to has reportedly had a lot of fairy circles show up lately, so when we land we’ll leave you in a fairy circle and let the Fae deal with you.”

You rolled your eyes. Your parents had believed in such fairytales as well, hammering basic rules for encountering “the Fae” into you so often you could probably still recite them in your sleep. Fairytales were just crutches for weak-minded people, and you were disappointed in your crew for stooping to such levels when you’d thought of them as such strong-willed individuals.

It took almost four full days to reach the place Seungcheol had spoken of, time during which you were kept bound and gagged in your cabin. None of the crewmates who were sympathetic to you were allowed to see you and your meals were sparse enough that by the time the faint call of “Land ho!” reached your ears, hunger pains were beginning to set in. You had to admit, you’d taught them well how to be harsh and ruthless to their prisoners.

It was not Seungcheol who came to fetch you when the Poison docked, but Minghao and Mingyu. Mingyu untied your feet, and the two of them half-dragged you across the main deck until the feeling returned to your legs and you could walk on your own.

Seungcheol was waiting at the bottom of the gangplank, and soon the four of you began the trek into the woods to find a “fairy circle”. Half-an-hour or so passed until Seungcheol stopped, eyes on the ground in front of him. He stepped aside, and you finally saw what he’d been looking for: a large group of mushrooms growing in a perfect circle. You had to admit, it was rather unusual how perfectly the ring had grown. Mingyu re-tied your feet and they laid you on your side in the midst of the circle.

“So long Captain.” Minghao spoke for the first time.

“A shame things had to end this way.” Mingyu added, not looking very sorry about it.

The three men turned and walked away without looking back.

You lay on the damp earth for gods knew how long, alternating between bouts of sleep and wakefulness. As the sun was colouring the sky on its way down, you heard the telltale sounds of many feet headed your way. Immediately alert, your eyes darted from place to place, ever watchful as you worked to catch a glimpse of who - or what - was approaching.

Several figures came out of the growing shadows, walking straight towards you. As they got closer you could make out odd features on some of them, such as pointed ears, strangely coloured eyes, or even wings. Much as you hated to admit it, it seemed the Fae really did exist after all.

“Look, Astario, this little fly has already been tied up!” The Fae at the front of the group declared with a derisive chuckle.

The one named Astario grinned smugly. “Indeed! It seems a spider did not want this one. Perhaps we can find a use for her, Ronwyl.”

Ronwyl nodded. “The Doctor will be most pleased.”

Leaning over, Astario yanked you roughly to your feet, untied the rope around your ankles, and tied your wrists to the saddle of a horse that you presumed was his. “Do try to keep up, little fly.”

«-Previous | Next-»

[sofaradaysogood]

Do you miss your family?

He doesn’t much remember his father.

In fact, now that he thinks about it, he’s not even sure what happened to the man. Maybe he grew frustrated by his wife’s uncertain grip on reality, her odd stories and her false memories and the way she didn’t sleep for weeks, sometimes, drifting around like a ghost of something that doesn’t realise it’s dead. Maybe he got spooked by the way his son’s eyes glowed silver, or the way flowers unfurled for him to play with.

Hell, maybe he just died.

His mother, now, he remembers her -- the absent way she cared for him, and the frequent times she forgot about him. The way she’d cling, fiercely, too-tight, and then spend two days staring out the window, not hearing him when he called for her.

The way she’d seemed to get less solid, less real, day by day, until eventually she’d just given up and died, in a resigned sort of way. He’d been thirteen, and they’d run him out of town.

    The witch’s child. The devil’s spawn.

He’d met his grandmother, for the first time, when he was five. She’d smiled a sharp, inhuman smile, too many teeth, and dragging a marble-pale finger down his face and said you’re a strong one.

She’d come regularly. Not to look after him, when his mother would not -- these visits coincided with nothing in particular, nothing at all. His grandmother was disgusted by her, dismissive. She had no time and no words for her daughter.

For her grandson, she had words aplenty. She taught him, she coaxed his magic to life, she told him stories. Of black kings and once-proud kingdoms and the fairy horde, the armies of the daoine sidhe who could pluck the world of men back, when they chose to do so.

He’d never liked her. Even at five, that first time, he’d shied away from her touch, from the eerie beauty of her face. From the way the world warped around her, so that every rustle of tree and whisper of brook and breath of wind was for her. She’d reeked of power, of the ability to simply close her fist and destroy, should the mood take her. 

She was the only thing he’d ever been scared of. For her, he’d been an obedient child, well-mannered, quick to learn.

When he was grown, her visits had dwindled, and ceased, and he’d been relieved. She’d given up on him, like she had his mother, he figured. Good riddance. He wants no part of her arrogant madness, of her armies and her war and her pride. He wants the open sky and he wants the song of the world, and he wants his freedom.

      “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “Not a damn bit.”

[booksnunicorns]

Moonshadow, Tome 1 : Le Sombre Guerrier — Thea Harrison

Il veut l'utiliser pour avoir ce qu'il veut, mais elle n'est le pion de personne...

Elle ignore son passé et son futur est incertain... Après avoir survécu à une fusillade, la sorcière Sophie Ross, consultante pour la police de Los Angeles, quitte son poste et rejoint le Royaume-Uni, où se trouvent les réponses sur son enfance. Lorsqu'elle rencontre un Daoine Sidhe chevalier à la Cour Obscure, elle se retrouve prisonnière de l'antagonisme opposant deux arcanes puissants. Il a abandonné son corps et son âme pour défendre son peuple... Exilé de sa terre natale ainsi que ses frères d'armes, Nikolas Sevigny est impliqué dans un conflit qui menace tout ce qui lui tient à cœur. Il n'y a qu'en réunissant les ressources de son peuple qu'ils ont une chance de l'emporter sur Isabeau, la cruelle Reine de la Cour Lumineuse. Quand Nikolas rencontre Sophie, il ne voit qu'un pion sur l'échiquier. La sorcière insouciante pourrait bien être la clé pour parvenir à franchir les passages qui ont été interdits aux chevaliers de la Cour Obscure. Sophie n'a pas l'intention d'être le pion de qui que ce soit, mais le fier Nikolas est si convaincant qu'elle ne peut nier la tentation de son cœur. Alors que la magie menace Lyonesse, la Reine Isabeau lâche ses cruels Chiens, et Nikolas et Sophie entament une course effrénée pour leur survie. La passion qui s'éveille entre eux se révèle bientôt trop vive pour être niée... Heureusement, ni l'un ni l'autre n'a l'intention de tomber amoureux...

De Thea Harrison publié en Juillet chez Infinity [ Amazon ] pages

C'était tellement bien !!! Pour les amoureux des Chroniques des Anciens, pour les fans de Romance Paranormale et surtout pour ceux qui aiment lire de la romance avec des héroïnes indépendantes et pleines de verve.

J'ai adoré Sophie. Vraiment ! Un personnage qui fait sourire plus d'une fois, surtout avec son besoin d'affirmer qu'elle décide de quelque chose parce qu'elle le veut et non parce qu'on lui ordonne. On sent que l'autrice a voulu avoir ce genre de personnage qui s'affirme et qui revendique son indépendance, l'absence d'ascendance d'un homme sur ses choix et sa vie. Elle est drôle avec ses petites phrases intérieures, quand elle essaye de se raisonner.

En face, évidemment Nikolas est l'archétype du guerrier qui a l'habitude d'être obéi, il a une équipe de soldats et une mission à mener. Leur rencontre a démarré du mauvais pied, il la pense au départ d'être de mèche avec la Cour de la Lumière qui tente depuis de nombreuses années d'éradiquer la Cour de l'Obscurité dont il est issu. Leur histoire est top et construite intelligemment, leurs dialogues sont drôles.

Nous faisons ainsi la découverte de cette partie du monde des Chroniques des Anciens, ce premier tome se déroule en Angleterre avec une intrigue somme tout simple mais qui pose tout de même les bases pour la suite et insuffle ainsi l'envie de connaître d'autres histoires, avec d'autres personnages. Et je suis joie quand je vois sur qui le Tome 2 est prévu, un antihéros ça promet !

[silver-soliloquy]

this is really late but for the pairing and AU meme: Enjrolas/Grantaire, October Daye verse?

this is also a really late reply but listen I would be delighted to talk your ear off about this au any time of day or night :D

UNDER A CUT BECAUSE THIS IS A LOT MORE THAN FIVE OOPS (but I have 22 pages of headcanon for this au saved so really I think I showed remarkable restraint)

Enjolras is a Daoine Sidhe pureblood knight in thecourt of Duke Lamarque in Paris; the heir to a duchy in the south of France,got fostered out to Lamarque as a teenager and just…never left

His parents are pretty okay with that at first,since they figured his teenage rebellion was manifesting in weird radicalpolitics, but he was supposed to come home after he was knighted to starttraining to take over the duchy?  And hevery much is not doing that??

Eventually comes to a head with Enjolras declaringthat he has no intention of becoming duke and his parents officially disowninghim; Enjolras is pretty much fine with this, except that now none of the otherDaoines trust him because WHO JUST GIVESUP A THRONE?? UNNATURAL.  Also nowhis parents’ allies think this would all be much easier if he just disappearedand stopped making a fuss, especially the ones who might now have a shot at thethrone, and there may be elfshot attempts

He probably ends up co-owning a big weird Victorian housein mortal Paris with Combeferre and Courfeyrac and whichever of their friendsfeel like living there at the moment, because big weird Victorian found familyhouses are a vital part of any Toby Daye au

Enjolras and Les Amis are big on changeling rights,the rights of mortals not to be, you know, hunted for sport, banning goblinfruit, etc.; he’s probably going to try overthrow the King and Queens at somepoint, but it isn’t going to work because they’re sealed off in some pocketuniverse or whatever.  Sorry, Enjolras.  But in the meantime he will do knighterranting in Paris to protect the changeling population and keep petitioningthe courts for legal change and trying to introduce modern human thought intothe Summerlands!  He’s gonna keep being supergrumpy about living in a monarchy whose rulers can’t even be held accountableby the subjects, though.

Les Amis are mostly knights in Lamarque’s servicewho met as pages; Jehan the cutest kitsune in existence runs a tiny weird countywith Bahorel and Fantine, who somehow ends up becoming his seneschal after herlife falls apart

(Fantine is Enjolras’s aunt, who got disowned in heryouth and ended up falling in with Tholomyes and the rough equivalent of Devin’scrowd for a few decades until she ended up abandoned with a kid barely oldenough to do her own illusions and a serious goblin fruit habit; she eventuallyended up as Valjean’s seneschal until Javert came and ruined that, and the twoof them and Cosette fled to Paris and Jehan offered them sanctuary)

(I have a ton more stuff about Fantine being supergood at fae diplomacy and running a knowe because she is my favorite but THISIS ALREADY LONG AND I HAVEN’T EVEN TALKED ABOUT GRANTAIRE)

(But also she and Enjolras become super close inParis and she helps him a lot when things go south with his family because uh,been there done that, and Cosette comes to live in Enjolras’s weird house becauseshe loves her cousin so much and it’s adorable)

ANYWAYS: KING OF CATS GRANTAIRE.  He met Enjolras while he was still a prince,because Enjolras was picking a fight with some goblin fruit dealers on histerritory and he had to intervenebecause he couldn’t let some fancy ducal heir get slaughtered on his watch,that would be bad for politics and has nothing to do with how absurdlybeautiful said ducal heir is.  And thenthey start talking and Grantaire is completely screwed, and startsaccidentally-on-purpose showing up wherever Enjolras is patrolling to botherhim

Enjolras does not realize that Grantaire is a princeof cats until Grantaire is king and shows up at Lamarque’s knowe for anOfficial Diplomatic Visit, because Grantaire neglected to mention all this.  He gets a bit of a shock when he shows up attheir court, and Courfeyrac (who is half cait sidhe) is like “???? what do youmean that’s the cait sidhe who you’ve been telling us about for months, that KingGrantaire” “what?? no, he said his name was R—oh my GOD”

Grantaire is Delighted to meet all Enjolras’sawesome friends, and starts hanging around Les Amis meetings all the time beingan annoying kitty

[insert slowest of slowburn romances here, plus lotsof fae politics and drama in the court of cats and Enjolras almost dying lotsof times and Grantaire actually dying for Enjolras at least once before thesedorks actually kiss]

YAY TOBY DAYE AU, I SWEAR I WILL ACTUALLY WRITE THISTHING ONE DAY

[tanoraqui]

Hi! I read your MDZS Toby Daye AU, which is wonderful, and wondered, did you think of what smells their magic has? I Can see Jiang Yanli, Fengmian and WWX having lotuses (and blood) ( Jiang Cheng doesn't and he hates that, he probably smells like pondwater and air after lighting, which he inherited from YZY), Lans all have some subtle smells, maybe incense, Jins peonies ( JGY's human side manifests as lye, exact same smell of low-quality soap he used to wash clothes at brothel with) 1/2

Wens all smell bit like smoke and fire and all things hot, but Wen Yuan/ Sizhui is thankfully similar enough to something herbal, incense or tea, to pass as Lan. Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan compliment each other, Song Lan ofc has frost in his signature. A-Qing has bamboo, and Xue Yang smells like rusted iron and candy. That is sort of thing I came up with at least, sorry if I bother, thanks for all your fun posts!

this is the second time someone’s brought up this au when I was already thinking about it for completely unrelated reasons. Is there a conspiracy?

Wei Wuxian’s magic smells like blood (of course) and kelp, I think, the sort that grows in great forests on ocean floors.

Jiang Fengmian’s magic smells of fresh-cut lotuses and recently-killed...some sort of fish, I don’t know enough about fish to have thoughts. Tuna? Something big.

Yu Ziyuan’s smells of lightning strike at the height of a storm, raw ozone and water so brackish even a Merrow wouldn’t drink it.

Jiang Yanli’s smells like pond-grown lotuses and the wake of heat lightning - fainter ozone, dryer. 

Jiang Cheng’s smells like a lightning strike when the air is cold enough to sting even without the ozone, and raw tuna but bloodier than his father’s kill.

Jin Guangshan’s magic smells of an oxidized gold and an overgrowth of golden peonies. All his children inherit some variant of the peony scent - Jin Zixuan has perfect greenhouse peonies and the steel of a just-drawn sword (Madam Jin’s magic smells of steel and, I dunno, bougainvilleas.) Jin Guangyao’s is some other species of peony, garden-grown, and yes I love that idea of lye. Mo Xuanyu’s weak magic is some soft-smelling wild peony species and...I’m gonna say the slightly dusty cloth scent of his (human) mother’s sewing kit? 

Wens’ magic smells like a myriad of things on fire, yes. They stand out as an extended family who nonetheless all share this trait. Wen Ruohan’s was burning rock, pure fire and moving lava. Wen Qing’s was an out-of-control brazier, fire and bitter herbal medicines. Wen Ning’s was a desert, fire and dry dust. A-Yuan’s magic smells like a (mostly) controlled grassfire, cheerful flames and quickly green summer grass, and he doesn’t fit in with the Lans at all because they’re Tylwyth Teg and he’s Daoine Sidhe - there’s a crowd of sedate young noble faeries with pale blond hair and piercing blue eyes, and among them, polite as the rest, is one with hair the blue-grey of a cloudy dusk sky and eyes the bright gold of an eager flame. But that’s okay. Adoptions happen, wards of the court happen, and even in a war, killing is...well, nobody much begrudges the child. 

As with everything, the Twin Jades of Lan have nearly identical scents to their magic: Lan Wangji’s gentians are a little more wild, Lan Xichen’s ice is a little closer to melting.

Nie Mingjue’s magic smells of raw marble and a just-hewn oak tree (the tree may rot as his power is twisted against him.) Nie Huaisang’s smells of sculpted marble and, I dunno, daisies? roses.

Xiao Xingchen’s magic has a scent so subtle that only Wei Wuxian has ever been able to pick out the nuance - there’s a fresh summer breeze from over a field of hay, yes, but there’s also a faint, oh so faint, yet absolutely essential scent of moonlight. Song Lan’s smells like the first frost that comes just a little earlier than your garden would like. and the hard-packed earth that will bear it until spring. Xue Yang’s smells like too-sweet candy and blood dried in cat fur. A-Qing’s smells like bamboo, yes, and a cat when their fur got cleaned so recently that it’s still a little damp. Possibly all of them are changelings. 

[kpop-stories-21]

Stains of Crimson | Masterlist

Group: ATEEZ

Pairing: Jongho x Fem!Reader

Ongoing Word Count: 1.6k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes, & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Dark Fae AU, Fantasy AU, Angst, Smut, Dark Content

Content & Trigger Warnings: Daoine Sidhe!Jongho, Pirate Captain!Reader, dark content, graphic descriptions of fighting, graphic descriptions of death, graphic descriptions of gore, blood, injuries, brief & graphic mention of torture, experiments on humans, unprotected sex(wrap that shit up kids), (more tags to be added)

Summary: After your crew mutinies and leaves you tied up in an odd circle of mushrooms, you brush off their claims of giving you to the Fae and assume they've just left you for dead. But as you soon learn, the Fae are quite real, and some of them enjoy experimenting on humans.

Network pings: @kdiarynet | @cultofdionysusnet | @sandsofire

Divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

A/N: this is the second of my entries in the Thrill of The Hunt collab. Please make sure you check out all the other amazing authors who are participating!!!

Collab Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

[duocorpora]

lacuna

Faraday remembers it all.

Jack beneath him, bunched muscle and foaming sweat, hooves tearing up the grass and dirt beneath them as together they eat up the wide, open space strewn with bodies and bullets.

The blood-damp earth singing out the approaching horse behind him. The certainty that had settled in his bones that he’d take a bullet in his back before he reached the brass-and-iron monstrosity tearing through buildings like tissue paper. The heady, hysterical realisation that it’s Vasquez, gun drawn and low over his horse, riding hell for leather to catch up.

The two of them thundering towards Bartholomew Bogue, and not an obligation in sight, just the determination to be something more than the selfish arrogance that stories wrap around him.

Burn of bullet through flesh, Jack screaming underneath him, the sudden pitch towards soft ground. The struggle to rise, the flash of scarlet from the corner of his eye. Vasquez’s fingers still gripped loose around silver pistol. Dark eyes bright with fear and pain and something else, besides. The sizzle of the fuse and the ring of the explosion, the taste of ash and iron on the air.

It’s all there, all still there.

What he doesn’t remember – what he can never remember – is the weight of Vasquez’s body.

Somewhere between the life leaving his eyes and crumpled on the ground in front of church and Chisholm, arms still half-wrapped around the Mexican’s frame, he’d walked. He’d carried. Maybe he’d dragged, because he was bloody and bruised himself, weak and too far from anything green and good to ask for help. Not with this much iron hazing the air like thundercloud.He remembers everything, except that.

[duocorpora]

@godforsakenthing [ from ]

Sam watches the hands at Dean’s side, the way his fingers curl and uncurl, fists formed and loosed with a regularity that’s nothing to the way Sam’s heart gives out a few, erratic, extra beats.

Dean is a mess. Has been for weeks, now, and Sam doesn’t have the heart for I told you so. Faraday is gone, and he’s not coming back. Maybe Sam shouldn’t be so angry, at that: it’s in the fairy’s blood, this wandering, and sometimes you can’t help what you are.

But Sam defies anyone to fuck up his brother and then try that argument with him. Nature is not fate. DNA is not destiny.

  “ -- Dean,” he says, and it’s an attempt at soothing, at reconciliatory. Dean’s face is dark, his hands are fists, his voice is low and rough. He’s angry.

         (Surely. Surely it’s anger that has his pupils wide and his           voice with an edge of stone to it.)

“Forget it. Forget I said anything. I just --” he breaks off, frustration pulling at the line of his lips, kicking back his shoulders.