#did this king decide to be born with a full time job already decided for him

[kawaiidegger]

power is cruel and traumatizing and the closer you get to the pit the sicker you will become I believe this more and more as I get older

[echidna-enquiries]

Iris: I’m curious, do you all have any good stories or memories of your partners? My Guardians tend to keep their relationships close guarded… but sometimes I catch a glimpse of family photos and can’t help but smile at the sweetness of it. 

Hadar: (The spotted echidna soon approached, a framed picture in his hand as he kept it close to himself) I think I'd like to share a bit about mine... Here she is. (He turns the framed picture around to Iris, showing a very old photo in the frame. Still black and white. It had tall, beautiful woman with her arms wrapped around a much more youthful looking Hadar)

Hadar: Her name was Dona. She came from a massive family that initially was off island, they moved to Angel Island just a few years before she was born. We met as children-very young. Ever since I could remember she was fearless and-and very vocal. I still remember one of the first things she said to me 'You're small and weird. I like you. We're friends' she said, not really knowing how to speak full English at that point. (he giggles softly)

Hadar: She was always bigger than me. She was tall, and it didn't help I've always been... sm-small. And I guess in her mind, I was tiny and needed to be protected. Quite a few times I recall when jerks would try to pick on me. She'd be screaming and-and kicking at them the minute she saw I was in distress. (He chuckles at the memory) I think as I got older I kinda realised I-...I really liked her but I-I-I didn't think I was her type or... at all in her league. I just thought she was so beautiful and confident and she deserved someone a-amazing. I didn't think I anywh-at-... Ugh (he stops in the midst of hi stuttering) I didn't think I was good for her! But... apparentl, long ago she decided liked me... Wished she would've told me sooner... (he makes a face, probably a very awkward confession scene replaying in his mind) Hadar: Her family was thrilled to have me be apart of it, they always liked me and wer-were very friendly with my Dad. Even her brothers, who were kinda as-... jerks to me but according to them, they were just 'hazing' me... (He rolls his eyes at the memory. Huffing a little.) Dona was not happy about that but the rest of the family were lovely. They loved having huge celebrations, full of singing and dancing an-and all that. By the end of the wedding night, my legs were so sore trying to keep with up with Dona and her family. Dona loved to dance of course, she instructed dancing actually. That was her job.

Hadar: Umm. What else? Um... Well. O-One thing I'd never forget is the little nickname she had for me, when we started dating. She started calling me her uh 'pequeño rey' and for the longest time, nor her or her whole family would tell me what it meant. Just made faces at eachother or la-giggled at me... Only when I started to learn her language did I find out it meant. 'Little King'. (he smiled at the picture)

Hadar: Something else she loved to do was she loooooved to tease me. I know I'm a little uh... easily flustered. E-Excuse me if this is a bit inappropriate to say but it's humorous. Sometimes if she really wanted attention from me. She'd just walk into whatever room I was in... (he stops, already giggling and trying to compose himself to answer) com-completely topless or at some points, naked, acting like nothing was unusual. (he snickers) And of course, I would shriek in response to suddenly seeing her body. Screaming at her what on earth she was doing. She'd always get a laugh out of my reactions. Dona would always do things like that. She'd shove my face in her chest, she'd straddle me when I'm trying to do anything sitting down, and when i started to learn her language she would whisper to most LEWD things to me! (he chuckles again, and sighs lovingly)... I never was angry at her for her teasing. It was in good fun, besides, I had my moments to tease her... n-not often but- occasionally.

(Hadar sighs deeply, taking a moment to look at the photo again, stroking a hand over Dona's face)

Hadar: I do miss her... a lot. I do sometimes I wish I had a chance to... (his smile fades suddenly as he looks down) Uh... sorry. I shouldn't get into that. I-I-I've spoken enough. Sorry about. (he chuckles nervously)

[way-of-love]

Unfulfilled (Namor x FemReader 18+ NO MINORS) (PART 1) (SPOILERS)

So I DECIDED to give a Namor fic a go and kinda got a terrible idea but tell me how it goes. Read a fic YEARS ago that inspired me to write this after watching Wakanda Forever. Cheers!

You, a mutant siren, made a deal with the god and king of Talokan. That in use of your body, to be a surrogate, to create an heir, you will be paid in what the world truly wants most. Vibranium. And other riches of course. But you set rules, limits to what was allowed and all those months lead to nothing. An empty womb. And a very angry surrogate. Namor has been nothing but patient but now was the time to exploit your ridiculous rules and claim what he's been fighting for.

Part 2!

It was taking too long, why was this taking so long? You were already angry from the beginning knowing HE was due to visit you tonight and seeing his progress, your progress barely moving added a lot of complicated stress not only to your mental state, but your body was taking a toll. 

Every night when he came to hold up his end of this deal you two made it was always you who was sore and achy from it. And after months of trying, you were starting to think this godly man was full of dust. It grew increasingly hard to keep your emotions in check. At work any little thing blew you off, even when you were with him you got mad and almost kicked him once or twice because he didn’t know how to be gentle. But he was not one to stray from his path, not when his heir was on the line or even his people.  

This arrangement of yours happened quite a few months ago, being a mutant siren yourself, you were the perfect fit to carry his little heir. Or so that is what he said. You lived alone on the edge of a tiny little island that seemed rural but was more advanced than they let on. Living here wasn’t all bad, you had a few flings here and there, had a job at a local “club” dancing and using your siren songs to lure in men and their cash. Military men absolutely loved you and the more you appeased them the more money you brought home with you. The Siren. That’s what the club called you, little did they know they weren’t far from the truth.  

You were home standing by the shore singing one early morning when he walked out from the sea, claiming he was seeing pieces of land his people once ruled but stopped when he heard your song. At first, he didn’t seem to be quite allured like the others, so you heard him out when he offered to sit through your songs and see what you could do. Dreadfully, you should have never given him the time of day because after that he granted you a deal. A mutant baby with the power of a god and voice of a siren for vibranium and whatever treasures you wanted. It sounds awful but when you're struggling to leave this tiny island and live somewhere where no one can find you, it was a surprisingly good deal so you had to say yes. 

He was charming with his words, convincing with his expressions, smooth with his caresses, he got you the moment he walked out from the ocean. And you were a being made to seduce and devour, yet he was your siren. 

It took you quite a few weeks to understand his reasoning to have a baby so suddenly and why would he pick you, seemed like water people needed to stick together and the more there were of you the better. He went into depths about his defeat in Wakanda, how he was close to death and if he did perish, he would have someone to rule in his stead. An heir, a blood heir. 

Children weren’t even in your vocabulary, not even in your future. You weren’t mother material. You could barely take care of yourself. You explained to him that as soon as you had the baby, he would take it and leave you alone for the rest of your life. He agreed. As soon as the child is born whatever vibranum was offered will be given in full and you both will never see each other again. 

Fast forward to now, negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test. You were frustrated. When you made the deal you told him specifically, you did not want to feel pleasure, just do the deed and leave. You made sure he followed the rules, he gets it up himself, he mounts and finishes then off he goes back into his little water cave. 

To say it was hard was the biggest understatement of the year. You weren’t sure this would work. 

Standing back up you gave yourself a quick look in the mirror, a small little pep talk and left your bathroom. It wasn’t a big house, just a small little beach house where your bedroom was also the kitchen, the living room, and the office. And a giant looming sea man standing facing the double sliding doors that lead to the beach. When it was time to meet during the night, he would let himself in just as you both agreed to.  

He must have heard you exit the bathroom because he slowly turned to face you with raised brows,” So?” 

You hated this part. Before leaving the bathroom, you grabbed the negative pregnancy test you took a few minutes prior, “Negative,”  

With small steps you stood before him holding it out, "I think, you're the one with the problem. I mean we’ve done this, what? Six hundred times and there still isn’t anything there?”  

For the past few weeks everything felt different, the club felt different, you felt different, and you weren’t sure why. The other dancers saw it too and they left you alone, of course the siren who liked to be alone didn’t mind it one bit, but it felt strange. 

It wasn’t even work that made you think something was wrong, it was when you started to study the men that came to watch you sing and dance. There was a difference in men, you didn’t know if you liked it. Each time one man stopped to look, you compared him to another one and then another, they were nice men but somehow, they left you feeling the strangest feeling...you couldn’t place your finger on it, but it left you unfulfilled. One man was too short, another was too skinny, and another's voice was too high. No one was sufficient, none of them could cater to your needs. 

You had to stop occasionally, to remind yourself you were fulfilled, that your needs were met. But the heat radiating off your skin, the wanting of it and the needs tell you different. You were unfulfilled. 

Namor didn’t provoke you while you ran a frustrated hand through your hair, as if he knew all too well the obstacle that lay in his way to conceive. “There is nothing wrong with me,” 

“Really? Because it sure seems like there's a whole lot going wrong with you.” Again he didn’t engage in the conversation and just stared at you. It made you want to punch him in the face and tell him this whole deal was off. Turning around frustrated you tossed the pregnancy test on the bed and ran your hands down your face.  

“I'm tired,” You complained, stressed. "Everything hurts. I get bruises, and I get sore. I can’t do specific dances because of that baby's arm in your trunks makes everything ache,” You were emotional and you didn’t know why. But he did. Namor knew this frustration very well and this was the first step to overcome and conquer you. 

“You get to get off and I just stand there...” 

You were talking with your emotions and didn’t know what you were saying but Namor did. But he still didn’t engage. 

Slowly he walked over to the bed you slept on and you both used every other night; he picked up the test and held it to examine it himself. As if he didn’t believe you. 

You glared at him while he took his sweet time looking at the little screen. Unfulfilled needs can cause rebellion. Rebellion can come in many forms. And as Namor looked at you he found himself growing very annoyed with how difficult you were making this out to be with your rules, your limits and how much you rejected the natural course of two human bodies. 

“Do you understand why I choose you Y/N?” He asked her so sweetly as he placed the test down and went to stand before you this time,” Your voice brought me up. And when I saw the person behind this voice,” He pressed two fingers against your throat. “Independent. Strong. Beautiful. Invisible.” 

He put more pressure on those two fingers against your throat forcing you to stand your ground, “No one would suspect you, even if I were to be discovered you would never be. You know how to hide and hide you do very well but this,” 

His hand lowered so it lay flat against your lower stomach. You could feel the heat of his hand burning through your nighty, “This is something you cannot hide. You’re frustrated.” 

“Damn right I am. You frustrate the hell out of me.” 

“You misunderstand mujer fatal,” He spoke calmly, soften by how you looked neglecting yourself. Drained. Tired. “You are sexually frustrated.” 

You blinked staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Then you scoffed. “I’m...Get out. This meeting, date, conference, whatever you want to call it is off tonight. I can’t stand you,” You murmured softly, moving to get around him. He blocked your path, with an outstretched hand. Namor has not dismissed this arrangement and he made sure you knew. 

“You cannot stand me because you desire me.” 

“Oh please, you may be a god, but your ego is just like every other man. Conceited.” Your ears were flooded with the sound of the pounding of your heart. He was getting you annoyed, angry, upset.  

“This has nothing to do with ego but truth. You have denied yourself because of your silly rules and you are suffering from it. You’re allowing your own ignorance and ego blind you of that truth,” You looked almost scared as he went on to list her rules from top to bottom and you had to agree they all seemed ridiculous. But you set them there for a reason. You didn’t want him. Right? 

  “Your body has needs and you are neglecting them for something as senseless as remaining unattached. A woman can’t live that way. You are meant to be pleased and adored, and not used as you have allowed me to use you. Admit your desire for me and that frustration could ease away,”  

You swallowed thickly, taking another step back but finding that the balcony doors were blocking your way of making space. Sneering and seething with anger or was it frustration? “I don’t want you Namor,”Shit. Even you weren’t too sure. Your voice came out quiet like a whisper. “You’re just a guy I’m working with. I don’t mix business with pleasure.” 

“It doesn’t have to be only business Y/N.” He moved his hand down to your hip gripping it and making sure you felt just how big and powerful it was,” There can be pleasure too,” 

[thel0re]

Now  this  is  the  tale  of  never  ending  chaos.  Davina  Claire  and  Delaney  Winchester,  daughters  of  Lucifer.  That’s  right,  the  king  of  hell.  One  born  as  a  witch  and  the  other  born  as  half  angel  and  half  demon.  Can  you  guess  which  one  was  the  favorite?  Because  it  was  not  Davina.  Lucifer  looked  over  at  his  two  daughters.  Sent  one  to  live  with  the  Winchesters  and  one  to  be  amongst  the  witches  of  New  Orleans.  He  wanted  to  keep  Delaney  with  his  true  vessel  so  he  could  get  both  her  and  Sam  Winchester.  As  for  Davina?  He  didn’t  care.  And  he  knew  damn  well  that  what  was  to  come  for  her  was  not  going  to  be  good. 

Raised  as  a  French  Quarter  witch,  she  already  had  blood  on  her  hands.  She  was  quite  powerful  to  say  the  least,  which  is  why  she  was  chosen  to  be  one  of  the  Harvest  Witches.  To  be  connected  with  the  ancestors  of  the  coven.  They  were  told  that  it  would  be  okay.  Until  the  girls  realize  they  would  have  to  be  killed.  All  three  girls  were  slaughtered  until  Davina  was  saved  by  Marcel  Gerard,  a  vampire,  and  lived  in  an  attic  where  he  kept  her  safe.  But  eventually,  the  Mikaelsons  entered  the  town  and  things  went  to  chaos.

Davina’s  powers  became  too  dangerous  due  to  the  fact  that  she  absorbed  all  the  harvest  powers.  So  she  had  to  die  so  all  four  witches  would  return.  And  so,  she  sacrificed  herself.  But  instead  of  coming  back  like  promised,  the  Mikaelson’s  family  decided  to  return  while  the  four  girls  remained  in  the  dark.  However,  while  the  three  witches  remained  in  the  dark,  Davina  found  herself  in  hell.  Where  she  came  face  to  face  with  her  father,  Lucifer.  Learning  the  truth  about  her.  Along  with  learning  about  her  twin.  Now  Lucifer  lied.  Telling  her  that  her  twin  was  human  and  living  a  normal  life,  so  Davina  found  to  not  see  or  find  her  twin.  To  keep  her  safe  from  the  Supernatural  world.  But  as  she  was  trapped,  she  suffered  until  she  was  eventually  brought  back  and  woke  up  as  a  full  Harvest  Witch,

The  witches,  well…  they  were  angry  with  Davina  for  ruining  the  Harvest  ritual,  so  she  was  mistreated.  She  had  a  target  on  her  back.  Not  to  mention,  the  Mikaelsons  are  in  town.  Running  amok  and  well…  sometimes  they  needed  to  use  her.

Davina  spent  majority  of  her  time  trying  to  seek  revenge  on  Klaus  Mikaelson.  He  was  an  evil  hybrid  after  all  and  believed  he  can  control  the  whole  city.  So  she  resurrected  his  father  to  do  the  job.  However,  things  don’t  go  as  planned  and  she  finds  herself  siding  with  them.  Even  falling  for  Kol  Mikaelson  until  well…  he  passed.  Just  like  another  she  had  feelings  for.  Then,  she  got  accepted  to  be  Regent  of  the  French  Quarter  Coven.  Using  it  to  protect  the  witches  and  keep  vampires  away.  But  the  witches  targeted  Davina  once  again.

Did  Davina  end  up  dying  once  again?  Yes.  This  time,  not  only  did  she  go  back  to  hell,  but  Lucifer  sent  her  to  where  the  ancestors  of  the  French  Quarter  Coven  would  pass.  Leaving  to  Davina  with  never  ending  torture  in  the  afterlife.  What  felt  like  forever,  she  was  brought  back.  This  time  wanting  to  leave  everything  behind.

Davina  traveled  for  a  bit,  feeling  that  taste  of  freedom,  but  something  changed…  something  dark.  She  felt  Lucifer.  He  was  coming.  So  she  did  a  spell  to  track  where  his  powers  felt  the  strongest  and  she  followed.  Not  only  was  she  able  to  hunt  him  down,  but  she  also  found  her  twin.  Hunting  for  Lucifer  alongside  the  Winchesters.  Finding  out  that  she’s  half  demon  and  half  angel.  Gaining  this  knowledge,  it  fueled  her  to  wanting  to  kill  him  more  than  anything.  So  she  joined  the  family  to  go  after  him.  Only  to  find  out  that  what  the  Winchesters  were  going  through?  Definitely  another  form  of  torture.

[nastya-sokolova-2002]

Full name: Bahram Levek Fredovich

Date of birth: July 7, 1917

Character: kind, greedy for money

Loves: his family, money, his job at the bank

Dislikes: losing his family, when they don't pay on time

Russian voice acting: Diomid Vinogradov

English voice acting: Larry Cedar

First appearance in Fanon: The fifth chapter in the fanfiction "SCP Foundation: The Last Pages of History" (as a story)

Last appearance in Fanon: Currently unknown

Story: Bahram was born in the Island of Unnecessary Mice to his parents Fred and Willow and his older sister Faina. When he was a child, Fred was blown away by the North Wind. In the fifth chapter, he appears when Faina introduces Linus to her mother and younger brother. After the wedding of Faina and Linus, Bahram began to live alone and work as a banker. A little later, when his nephew Orm lost his salary, Bahram saw that his nephew came to him and thought that he would pay for his house, but he only wanted a few coins. Orm began to lie that he had found some kind of stone the size of an egg or a chicken. Bahram, believing this, began to give him coins, but soon did not give it to him when Orm confessed that there were no stones because of Loopy. After Maribel's abduction, Bahram became a member of Orm's army. After saving Maribel and defeating Snow King, Bahram forgave his nephew and told him that he should consider that he had already paid for the house. After Willow's death, Bahram sold his house and began living in his nephew's house. And after Orm and his wife and daughter left the island, Bahram, as a memento of his nephew, began to keep his nephew's golden armor.

Interesting facts: Bahram is a parody of Orm's uncle named Avraam from the 2012 "Snow Queen" franchise. In the first version, Bahram was not supposed to be in Fanon, but in the end Fanon decided to add him to follow the original "The Snow Queen 2: A magic of mirror". His real orientation is asexual. His orientation proves why he doesn't have a wife and children of his own.

[ofswordandcrowns]

It is with great honor that I present (ARMAN) of HOUSE (PITHOU), the (QUEEN) of (NOK). They are (FORTY-NINE) and look a great deal like (HRITHIK ROSHAN). Their people have described them as (ELOQUENT & INTELLIGENT) but be careful, for their closest friends have disclosed that they are also known to be quite (BOASTFUL & CRITICAL).

basic info

full name — Arman Rahim Pithou (nee Petkett)

nickname - Your Majesty

age — Forty-Nine

kingdom — Nok

gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns)

religion —follows the teachings of Aznas and Etia

occupation — Queen Of Nok, Mother Of The Future King

living arrangements — The Cerulean Castle

physical info

face claim — Hrithik Roshan

hair — black / eyes — brown

height — five foot & eleven inches

clothing style — silk. silk. silk. tunics, robes, cloaks - you name it, it's usually in silk. he also enjoys wearing fine jewelry, gifts from his king and many lovers.

sexual preference — true versatile - enjoys both submitting and dominating, as well as both topping and bottoming.

The oldest son of the great house of Petkett, Arman’s fate had been sealed at an early age. Like many children born in Nok, his parents had already decided on who he would wed when the time would come - the babe that had been born to King and Queen Pithou just a year prior - and they made sure to let Arman know this. Of course, as a kid, he did resent them. Why couldn’t he marry for love? Why couldn’t he marry who he wanted to marry and not who his parents wanted him to marry? It wasn’t until he began to think about it that he realized that it was a good thing. Sure, the idea of being Queen wasn’t that enticing to him - he would rather be called King, given that they were often seen as the true power in a kingdom and that Queens were seen as lesser - but the idea that his children wouldn’t just be nobles but princes? That was enough for him to shut his mouth.

And, really, he could do worse than someone like Ram Pithou. The crown prince was handsome, personable, and even if he didn't seem keen on the idea of an arranged marriage, he was always polite and cordial with Arman and while it wasn't the most romantic of ways to be matched, Arman did find himself developing feelings for the crown prince. And he knew, really, that he would actually enjoy marrying the prince and living life beside him. He even began to fantasize about their wedding day, imagining just how extravagant a royal wedding would be... when all of a sudden, plans had changed.

With Ram abdicating his throne, his younger brother becoming the heir, Arman was no longer promised to Ram but to his brother. While Arman was relieved that he would still get to be Queen, part of him was... disappointed that he wouldn't be Ram's Queen. Even still, though, with the other members of court looking at Ram with disdain for stepping away from his duties, he did what he could to ensure that Ram knew that he would always be someone he could talk to - all the while Arman married Berik and the two began to build their life together.

Several years have passed since Arman's first heartbreak, and while he may not have loved Berik when they had first married, he can wholeheartedly say that he does love him now. Behind Berik's imposing and intimidating presence is a kind heart and a gentle soul, one that Arman feels gracious enough that he had been able to see, but he would be lying if he said that there wasn't a small part of him that also fluttered at the mere mention of Ram. How could it be that even after all these years, he still harbors these feelings for the man that had once been his betrothed?

Still, Arman knows his place in court and he knows that he has fulfilled the biggest part of his duty - providing an heir to the Nokian empire - but he knows that his job isn't done. No, what he has to do next is to ensure that the next generation of Pithou's are primed and ready to ensure the success of their family line. And if, in the meantime, Arman can have his fun as well? Well, that wasn't something he'd be too upset about.

[rcsrrectedwitch]

DAVINA JOHANNA CLAIRE

age  21-38+  ,  gender  cis  female  ,  pronouns  she/her  ,  location  all  over  ,  species  with  and  daughter  of  lucifer  ,  faceclaim  danielle  campbell

Now  this  is  the  tale  of  never  ending  chaos.  Davina  Claire  and  Delaney  Winchester,  daughters  of  Lucifer.  That’s  right,  the  king  of  hell.  One  born  as  a  witch  and  the  other  born  as  half  angel  and  half  demon.  Can  you  guess  which  one  was  the  favorite?  Because  it  was  not  Davina.  Lucifer  looked  over  at  his  two  daughters.  Sent  one  to  live  with  the  Winchesters  and  one  to  be  amongst  the  witches  of  New  Orleans.  He  wanted  to  keep  Delaney  with  his  true  vessel  so  he  could  get  both  her  and  Sam  Winchester.  As  for  Davina?  He  didn’t  care.  And  he  knew  damn  well  that  what  was  to  come  for  her  was  not  going  to  be  good. 

Raised  as  a  French  Quarter  witch,  she  already  had  blood  on  her  hands.  She  was  quite  powerful  to  say  the  least,  which  is  why  she  was  chosen  to  be  one  of  the  Harvest  Witches.  To  be  connected  with  the  ancestors  of  the  coven.  They  were  told  that  it  would  be  okay.  Until  the  girls  realize  they  would  have  to  be  killed.  All  three  girls  were  slaughtered  until  Davina  was  saved  by  Marcel  Gerard,  a  vampire,  and  lived  in  an  attic  where  he  kept  her  safe.  But  eventually,  the  Mikaelsons  entered  the  town  and  things  went  to  chaos.

Davina’s  powers  became  too  dangerous  due  to  the  fact  that  she  absorbed  all  the  harvest  powers.  So  she  had  to  die  so  all  four  witches  would  return.  And  so,  she  sacrificed  herself.  But  instead  of  coming  back  like  promised,  the  Mikaelson’s  family  decided  to  return  while  the  four  girls  remained  in  the  dark.  However,  while  the  three  witches  remained  in  the  dark,  Davina  found  herself  in  hell.  Where  she  came  face  to  face  with  her  father,  Lucifer.  Learning  the  truth  about  her.  Along  with  learning  about  her  twin.  Now  Lucifer  lied.  Telling  her  that  her  twin  was  human  and  living  a  normal  life,  so  Davina  found  to  not  see  or  find  her  twin.  To  keep  her  safe  from  the  Supernatural  world.  But  as  she  was  trapped,  she  suffered  until  she  was  eventually  brought  back  and  woke  up  as  a  full  Harvest  Witch,

The  witches,  well…  they  were  angry  with  Davina  for  ruining  the  Harvest  ritual,  so  she  was  mistreated.  She  had  a  target  on  her  back.  Not  to  mention,  the  Mikaelsons  are  in  town.  Running  amok  and  well…  sometimes  they  needed  to  use  her.

Davina  spent  majority  of  her  time  trying  to  seek  revenge  on  Klaus  Mikaelson.  He  was  an  evil  hybrid  after  all  and  believed  he  can  control  the  whole  city.  So  she  resurrected  his  father  to  do  the  job.  However,  things  don’t  go  as  planned  and  she  finds  herself  siding  with  them.  Even  falling  for  Kol  Mikaelson  until  well…  he  passed.  Just  like  another  she  had  feelings  for.  Then,  she  got  accepted  to  be  Regent  of  the  French  Quarter  Coven.  Using  it  to  protect  the  witches  and  keep  vampires  away.  But  the  witches  targeted  Davina  once  again.

Did  Davina  end  up  dying  once  again?  Yes.  This  time,  not  only  did  she  go  back  to  hell,  but  Lucifer  sent  her  to  where  the  ancestors  of  the  French  Quarter  Coven  would  pass.  Leaving  to  Davina  with  never  ending  torture  in  the  afterlife.  What  felt  like  forever,  she  was  brought  back.  This  time  wanting  to  leave  everything  behind.

Davina  traveled  for  a  bit,  feeling  that  taste  of  freedom,  but  something  changed…  something  dark.  She  felt  Lucifer.  He  was  coming.  So  she  did  a  spell  to  track  where  his  powers  felt  the  strongest  and  she  followed.  Not  only  was  she  able  to  hunt  him  down,  but  she  also  found  her  twin.  Hunting  for  Lucifer  alongside  the  Winchesters.  Finding  out  that  she’s  half  demon  and  half  angel.  Gaining  this  knowledge,  it  fueled  her  to  wanting  to  kill  him  more  than  anything.  So  she  joined  the  family  to  go  after  him.  Only  to  find  out  that  what  the  Winchesters  were  going  through?  Definitely  another  form  of  torture.

[bowandcurtsey]

May I request for Marx, Licht and Yami when their baby child is carrying something of theirs saying "dada?"🥺

Screams for my first Marx request!! Also I'll welcome Dad! requests anytime. They're so sweet. (இдஇ; )

Marx | Licht | Yami x F! reader d/n = daughter's name s/n = son's name

Marx Francois

This hubby spends long hours at work as the personal assistant of the Wizard King. Even though everyone including the wizard king himself tells him to just take a break sometimes, it's just in his personality to just worry for Julius and the kingdom.

You had quit your job and decided to be a full time mother after the birth of your first child, s/n. You knew that Marx would still be busy running after the Wizard king so you knew most of the time you had to take care of your baby.

But Marx hired more servants to help you, in case you got overwhelmed while taking care of your vert first child.

As s/n grew older, he started to understand more things and he also learnt to talk. You were overjoyed when he first called out 'mama' and Marx almost cried when he called out 'daddy'. It was your very first milestone as parents.

So when Marx came home in the afternoon one day, he found s/n in his little walker, holding on to his old aqua deer robe, crying out "dad dad!" to his mom, he stood at the door for good moment.

"You miss daddy?" you chuckled at your little mini Marx, "I miss him too sweetie, he'll be home later~"

s/n's little fingers grabbed on the fur on the robe, speaking to himself, "dada!"

"I'm home," Marx's voice sounded from the door.

"Daddy!!" s/n shouted correctly and clearly at his dad, a happy twinkle in his eye.

"You're home very early today," even you were surprised, it was only 5 o'clock.

"I missed my little mini and my beautiful wife," Marx kissed you on the cheeks and carried his son up from the walker. There was tears in the corner of his eyes.

He felt a little guilty for being away most of the time, but today onwards, he wanted to be here for his milestones, even the smallest ones.

Licht

He had been really busy recently, so busy that sometimes he didn't come home. You understood very well the duties of your husband as the leader of the elf tribe, but your 2 year old son did not.

He would constantly ask where his dad was and when he was coming home. He's an absolute daddy's boy.

You did bring him to see Licht at the king's HQ, but he didn't really understand that his dad was the king of the elf tribe just yet.

Licht came home one evening when s/n was already asleep. He was holding on to his dad's blue pendant in his little hands.

Licht had given the pendant to his son the day he was born. Sometimes to entertain him, Licht would use his powers to make the pendant glow, making s/n associate the pendant with his dad.

"dada.." s/n said in his sleep while holding onto his pendant.

Licht's heart absolutely swelled with pride yet it felt a little pinch at the same time. His son had missed him but he wasn't able to accompany him.

How long more before the boy wouldn't want to look for him anymore?

He stroked his soft little curls and gave him a kiss on his little head before leaving the room.

"what's wrong?" you asked your husband as he came into the room sighing.

"I've been neglecting s/n lately, haven't I?" he climbed into bed and gave you a kiss.

"well.. he has been asking for you a lot lately.." you didn't want to lie to your husband.

"I'll promise to come home earlier whenever I can, honey." he stroked your head, "and whenever you're free, please bring him to the office, maybe I'll get someone to build a little playroom in the office."

"You're spoiling him now," you rolled your eyes and laughed.

Yami Sukehiro

This man was absolutely inseparable with his daughter. He was so lazy so if he could, he would stay home all day with d/n.

d/n was an absolute daddy's girl. You would sometimes tease Yami, "who's number 1? Her or me? If we both fell into the water, who are you gonna save?"

"But you can swim baby!"

When her dad went on a long mission for the first time in awhile, d/n was crying non-stop. It almost broke Yami then and there and he was just that close to just leave Asta and the rest to go on the mission themselves.

You had to pull d/n away from her dad and carry her inside, telling your husband to "go. now."

Yami came back a month later, he came home, finding his two favourite girls in the back garden. D/n was playing with her doll, Gordon made it for her, and he made one that looked like Yami, so the little one wouldn't miss her dad while he was away.

"I wuv you daddy!" she held the little doll and hugged it.

Yami felt his heart bursting. It felt like the day he saw you in your wedding dress. He would never forget that sight.

"My heart can't take this baby," he came from behind you and pressed a kiss on your temples, his eyes still locked on his daughter hugging her Yami doll.

You shook your head and gave a dramatic sigh, "sometimes I feel I'm third wheeling you two."

"Dada!!" d/n cried out and ran into her dad's arms

"You missed daddy?" he threw her into the air, earning her giggles.

"Yes!" she shouted, "more more!"

Yami threw her into the air again. "Moreeeee!!"

"Okay baby, daddy needs a shower now," you patted her head as she started to pout.

"I want to go with daddy too!"

"Great idea, cupcake," Yami grabbed onto your waist with his free hand, "let's all go to the hot bath together!"

-end-

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you! 

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro. 

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr​

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr​. All credit goes to her! 

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

 "I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him. 

 "Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls. 

 "Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh. 

 Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there. 

 "How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly. 

 Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have. 

 "Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often. 

 "Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

 Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

 "But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

 "The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

 Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening. 

 Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham. 

 From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully. 

 "Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face. 

 "Baby monk, ya alright?"

 Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her. 

 "Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell. 

 When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!" 

 That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest. 

 "It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe. 

 "Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.  

 Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm. 

 "Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb. 

 Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

 "I did tell you."

 "That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster." 

 And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

 Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

 "I'm sorry."

 She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

 "Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

 "Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

 He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

 "How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business. 

 "Would you like to meet him first?"

 A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

 He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about. 

 He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

 That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached. 

 "Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

 Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her. 

 "Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

 "Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

 "When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

 "Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk. 

 "Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

 Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

 Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

 "Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought. 

 That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

 "You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice. 

 "Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement. 

 "I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked. 

 "I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile. 

 He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

 "No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

 "It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

 Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

 "Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

 The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement. 

 "Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

 She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings. 

 Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared. 

 "No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be. 

 "She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face. 

 "Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

 "Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

 "I will if I must."

 "Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares." 

 Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

 "That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more. 

 As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

 *****

 Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes. 

 During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light. 

 So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time. 

 Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane. 

 Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's. 

 Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met. 

 Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step. 

 On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home. 

 After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench. 

 There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step. 

 *****

 "So, what is going on between you and Cedric?" 

 You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

 "You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

 "Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it. 

 Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it. 

 Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

 "Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer. 

 You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

 If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches. 

 The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else. 

 Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky. 

 A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.  

 "He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence. 

 Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.  

 "Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

 "Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral. 

 Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

 You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own. 

 "But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed. 

 "Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

 Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance. 

 Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

 You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

 "Your mother will let me in."

 "Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

 The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later. 

 Or at least that was what you told yourself. 

 *****

 "What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

 You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal. 

 Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason. 

 When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer. 

 "Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him. 

 "Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

 "Yes." You breathed out. 

 He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

 Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now. 

 "Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

 "Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step. 

 "But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see. 

 That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

 "He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

  As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true. 

 The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes. 

 "If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

 A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

 His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies. 

 As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.  

 "THANK YA, GOD!!" 

 The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness. 

 "Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled. 

 You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be. 

 "Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin. 

 "Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

 Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face. 

 "Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

 Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead." 

 Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric. 

 Just how you wanted it. 

 Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

 He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released. 

 "I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

 That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you. 

 "Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

 He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours. 

 "You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?" 

 It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

 With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry. 

[thecutestlittlebunbunfairy]

Dark Moon - A Demon!Lee Fic

Pairing: Demon!Lee Bodecker x fem!reader

Summary: A cemetery is never the place to be alone at night. But you're not alone, are you?

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: DarkFic! Non/Dubcon, slight hypnosis/manipulation, Demons, Monsterfucking, dom/sub, degredation, mentions of racism (set in the 1960s)

The wind rustled the leaves on the tree, breaking the eerie silence of the night. You hugged yourself tighter, wishing you had something more than just your sweater. But it was practically all you had left. You hated coming here at night, but it was the only way to get some privacy. The full moon cast shadows that seemed to stretch the whole length of the cemetery while illuminating your mother’s headstone clear as day.

“I’m so sorry mama. I’m sorry I’m such a screw up.” You whispered, your bottom lip trembling as you blinked back tears.

It had been a few months since she’d passed. The funeral a small affair, with a few of the townspeople coming to pay their respect. But they hardly gave you the time of day. Why would they? You were a bit of a dark horse in the town of Knockemstiff, Ohio. While most girls your age had already snagged a man, maybe had a kid or one on the way, you’d insisted on going off to the state college, and came home with bachelor’s degree and “a mouth full of sass,” as Mrs. Wolfe said. But you’d had to come home. You’ll never forget the day you got the call from Dr. Weisman. Cancer, he’d said. But your mama had never said a word.

It had always just been the two of you; your father being a no-good drunk that had run off barely a week after you were born. But somehow, through thick, thin, rough winters, and hot summers, you and your mama made it work. She’d been so proud of you when you’d won your scholarship; the only way you would ever be able to afford college. But she told you to always follow your heart. And that was the last words she’d said to you that night before she slipped away.

In the few months since she’d passed, you’d done your best to find a job, but it was hard. Everyone had always called you a “rebel,” or “trouble maker” or that you were too big for your britches. All through high school you’d always been focused more on your grades and books than anything else. As well as being (or at least trying to be) a voice for justice. It was hard for you to get to Columbus all on your own for protests and marches, but you did what you could in your own town. Having a one-woman rally outside of city hall to show your support for Dr. King had gotten you covered in black paint as some neanderthal from your class spit at you, shouting “There! Now you look like one of them!”

While she’d never come to a rally or march with you, your mama had always been waiting at home with something warm and comforting for you. She was always known as one of the finest cooks and bakers in town; her holiday cookies being the highlight of the town’s annual Christmas pageant reception. Even though you two personally were not active members of the church, her baking made her a welcomed member of the community. But now without her beside you, nobody would talk to you; let alone hire you. You’d just received the final notice from the bank today. You had til the end of the month to pay, or they’d seize the house. You held the notice in your trembling hands, tears now freely rolling down your cheeks. Suddenly, a bright light shined into your face, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Well, well, well. If it ain’t (y/n). What’ya doin out here so late?” A deep voice let out and your sadness turned to anger. Sherriff Bodecker.

You hated Sheriff Bodecker with every ounce of your being. Partially for the fact that he was a cop. You’d seen what police had done to people, kids hardly older than you, down in Birmingham. You decided right then and there that any job that would require someone to beat up people who were simply fighting for their rights was no job worth having. Not only that, but whenever you tried to do anything to promote civil rights or feminism, or anything you cared about and people gave you trouble, Sheriff Bodecker merely stood by and watched. Only intervening when things really started to get out of hand; and it was always you in the back of his car. Thankfully, he never actually arrested you, simply dropped you back at home. Every time, your mama always told you that was just trying to look out for you, but you hated him.

“What the fuck do you want, Bodecker?” you snapped, not in any mood to remotely deal with him.

“I was on my way home and I saw someone alone in the cemetery, just wanted to make sure there was no trouble.” He explained, his tone keeping cool and even.

“Well, there is none, so if you’d kindly fuck off and leave me alone.” Bodecker let out a sigh in response.

“Come on darlin, I’m just trying to be polite here.” He said, you could hear the tenseness in his tone. You only scoffed in response.

“Polite. Yeah, right. Like a pig like you even knows the meaning of the word.” You turned to leave, so angry and you didn’t want to ruin the memory of the one nice place you had left in the world. But as you brushed passed the sheriff, he reached out and grabbed you; pressing your back his chest and holding your arms in front of you.

“What the fuck, let me go asshole!” you yelled trying to squirm out of his grasp, but he held you steady. “HELP!” You screamed out “SOMONE HE-” A hand clamped over your mouth, cutting off your scream. The sheriff’s voice hissed in your ear.

“We really gotta find a way to shut that mouth of yours darling. Lucky for you I got a few ideas.” You struggled harder but he was too strong. He wrenched your arms behind your back, quickly locking you in cuffs and pushing you against the trunk of the tree.

“You know, you call me a pig. But to be honest, I never really cared about the conflicts of you humans. Just gotta keep up appearances.” You turned your head towards him and gasped, his eyes were entirely black. No pupils, no irises, just pitch blackness that you were scared to look at. He blinked and they returned to normal looking, but his irises were a deep crimson. He chuckled.

“Oh, that fear in your eyes makes you look even prettier.” He played with a loose strand of your hair. “No need to look so scared though. Someone very dear to you made a deal with me to always keep an eye out for you.”

“Are…what…are…?” you were at a complete loss for words.

“Well, I guess a little flash of my true form is enough to get you to be quiet.” His body began to grow; He seemed to grow taller, he seemed to get…bulkier almost. His gut staying the same but his chest broadening to match. His clothes ripping at the seams until they hung off him. His skin gained a reddish hue and two pitch back horns grew from his head. You couldn’t stop staring…he was…a demon?

“A very strong and powerful demon, I might add, little one.” He said, his voice sounding deeper, huskier. Your jaw clenched shut, realizing you’d said that out loud. Your brain screamed that you should be running, handcuffs or not, but you were frozen in fear.

“Your mama loved you VERY much.” He said, almost sounding amused. “You probably don’t remember, you were just a little pipsqueak, but your mama got sick. And there was no one else to take care of you. So, she and I made a deal. I held off the sickness til you were an adult, kept an eye an on you…and in return...” His smirk spread into a grin like a kid on Christmas. “You’re all mine now, sweetheart.” He pressed his lips forcefully against yours. When he pulled away, he purred. “So don’t you worry, darling. You don’t have to worry about the house or anything else anymore. I always take care of what’s mine.” He reached around to your front and grabbed the two sides of your jeans, pulling them away like they were tissue paper.

“Please…Sheriff…no…” you whimpered, still scared at the revelation your mother had promised you to a creature of Hell. He shushed you gently, rubbing his hands over your ass.

“You can call me Lee now, baby. We’re LONG past formalities.” He knelt behind you. “Well, aren’t these cute.” He mused, snapping the elastic on your panties and making you yelp. You squirmed against the tree, if this creature was so insistent on having you, you weren’t going to make it easy for him. But a strong clap to your ass made you freeze up.

“Behave, little girl. Or you’ll see how nasty I can be.” He pulled your legs apart wider, and you could feel his hot breath against your cunt. “Fuck you smell so good, baby. Can’t wait to have this pretty little pussy in my bed for hours.” He licked a long stripe up your slit, and that was when you felt his tongue. Longer than any humans you could tell, and as he just teased your entrance, you knew he was well versed. You heard him chuckle a little.

“Fuck darling, seems somebody likes my demon tongue in her little cunt. Don’t you?” You merely squeaked in response and another smack to your ass had you crying out. “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer. Understood, slut?”

“Yes sir.” He hummed in approval.

“Sir, I like that. Now tell me how you like your sir’s tongue in your little cunt.” He started giving you long slow licks, making your legs tremble.

“I…I love your tongue in my cunt…sir…” you said, your voice soft, but he heard you perfectly clear.

“Definitely can’t wait to get you home darling. Going to make you scream for me.” He pressed his tongue back into your cunt, trailing two fingers up the back of your thigh. “I wonder if I can make this pretty pussy squirt for me.” The feeling of his fingers entering you made you squeal. It was all too much; your mind was blank from pleasure. Nothing had ever felt so good; his sinful tongue, fingers rubbing right against that special spot inside you, the utter filth spilling from his lips.

“Sir…please…more…” you cried out, thinking of nothing but the climax building between your legs.

“More? My little bitch wants more?” He pulled his fingers out, making you whine in loss. But you were silenced as Lee brought his fingers up to your lips, and you could see them shining with your own wetness.

“I want you to suck my fingers like the pretty little whore you are.” You clamped your mouth shut; but his other hand reached around and pinched your clit, making you cry out in pain. He forced his fingers into your mouth. “And if you bite on them, I will take a branch from this tree and whip your ass raw. Understood?” You nodded in fear and laved your tongue over his fingers. You wanted to gag, but having him so close, feeling his extremely warm body pressed against you; your resolve was crumbling. He smelled like cinnamon and smoke and it was utterly intoxicating. Part of you was still scared, but a growing part of you wanted him, to give into temptation. You were tasting sin and you wanted more. You pushed your hips back against him.

“Seems someone’s enjoying herself. You want my thick demon cock in this little pussy?” He growled, the hand that had pinched your clit now up your sweater, pinching and pulling at your nipples, making you press further against him as you arched up into his touch. He pulled his fingers away.

“Yes…please…want you deep inside me…” you moaned. The head of his cock rubbed at your entrance before he pushed in. He waited for only a moment to let you adjust before thrusting his cock the rest of the way in you. You’d used your hands plenty of times, but this completely blew that away. The feeling of his cock deep inside you made you feel like you were burning from the inside out; like fire swam through your veins. The hand that had been playing with your nipples wrapped around your throat while the other drew circles around your clit.

“You feel so fucking good baby. I shoulda’ had you the day you came home, but I gave you some time. Like the kind, caring, master that I am.” Each of his boastful words were coupled with a harsh thrust. Having already been left on the edge once, you were desperately chasing this one. Moans and whimpers fell from your lips like raindrops as he fucked you faster, harder.

“Your pussy is clutching my dick like a fucking vice, sweetheart. You want my cum in you? Want me to claim you as mine for all eternity?” He growled, his own climax approaching fast.

“Yes, please…” you begged. “Please please let me cum.”

His hand squeezed tight around your throat. “Cum.” The one-word order had you seeing stars in the most mind-blowing orgasm you’d ever had. You felt him thrust his cock a few more times in you before he stilled, filling you with his hot cum.

Both of you just stood there for a few minutes before he placed a kiss to your cheek. “Hold still for me babydoll.” Before the words could even register, a searing pain seemed to wrap around your neck. But before you could even cry out in agony, the pain was gone. You looked down and where his hand had been wrapped around your throat, was a small dark chain. Just above your cleavage was a small onyx star pendant.

“What’s this?” you asked. Your mind still reeling from had just transpired. The only response you got was the click of the handcuffs as they were released from your wrists. You steadied yourself against the tree as he pulled out. Your legs were practically jelly but just as you thought you were going to fall, Lee caught you. He was back to his human form and his clothes looked normal. Only now, in his hand he held a very warm looking jacket; which he wrapped around you. Before you could say anything else, he picked you up into his arms bridal style and started walking.

“It’s a collar. I meant what I said. You’re mine now, babygirl. Now let’s get you home.” Your brain screamed at you to fight, struggle against him, anything, but you couldn’t. You tried to convince yourself it was some kind of demonic spell he had you under; really, you didn’t want to. Maybe you’d given up, no match for his strength. Maybe, you just didn’t want to be alone anymore.

He approached cruiser and the passenger door shot open at the flick of his wrist. He placed you inside, surprisingly carefully, and kissed your forehead before shutting the door. He came around to his side and got in, but you didn’t acknowledge him.

“Hey, look at me.” He said, softly. You did, slowly. He shifted closer to you, cupping your jaw and looking deep in your eyes. “You might be scared. But I promised your mama once you were mine that I’d take real good care of you.” He squeezed just a little. “And I always keep my word.” His eyes flashed to black once before returning to the bright blue of his ‘normal’ eyes. His pressed his lips against yours gently, and you didn’t resist. He pulled away, a small smile on his lips as he started the cruiser before pulling out of the lot and driving off.

As you leaned your head against the window, Bonnie Guitar’s voice filled the slowly warming cruiser, lulling you to sleep.

“Dark moon, away up high up in the sky Oh, tell me why, oh, tell me why you've lost your splendor Dark moon, what is the cause your light withdraws?”

[cardentist]

I haven’t been in the star trek fandom for very long (I’ve only just started binging the series in the last couple months), so it’s been pretty surprising to find out just how negative the perception of the reboot movies are.

this isn’t coming from the perspective of someone who grew up with the series, so it hit different for me than it might for people with a different relationship to TOS, but I thought it was genuinely clever and Respectful with how it was handled.

To quote leonard nimoy: “Well the alternative timeline gives them license to escape from canon concerns. I can’t see people saying ‘they shouldn’t do that because…’ or ‘that doesn’t tie in to such and such’ because it is a different time and place. Am I right about that?” [Link]

the entire Premise is that the original series happened as it was presented in TOS, but an event late in Spock’s life caused the creation of a parallel universe in which everyone’s lives were significantly altered through two key changes to the timeline. this gives them the freedom to Both revel in fanservice And explore different facets of the characters and their relationships. 

the destruction of vulcan Vastly impacts the characters and the plot moving forward, and its a detail that a lot of people take issue with. but the emotional impact of sarek admitting Directly to spock that there is value in his humanity, that his feelings Aren’t wrong, that sarek married amanda because he Loved her cannot be understated. you can read all of these things into sarek as he was in the original series, but he Never had an open conversation about these things with spock. this creates a Believable and Rewarding change in their relationship, where we get to see a different facet of them Because of the changes made. and that’s exactly the appeal. showing us pieces of these characters that we never got in TOS that are nevertheless undeniably Them.

everyone is Different yes, but they’re also fundamentally the same people at their core and that matters.

kirk’s personality obviously takes the biggest change, with him experiencing trauma at a young age, losing his father, and having an implied abusive father figure after that point. he has a harsher personality in reaction to harsher conditions, he’s spikier and harder to love. but he’s also still fundamentally a Good person whose willing to risk everything to help people. he still has what made kirk prime a good captain and a good friend.

I’m not gonna say that it’s the most nuanced story in the world, but it explores a version of kirk that was born from even Less fortunate circumstances than kirk prime, exploring a kirk brimming with potential who learned to bite back after he was kicked down. exploring those themes of trauma and loss, of insecurity and growth, and coming to the conclusion that Fundamentally He Is Capable Of Good isn’t a Bad thing. you don’t have to like it, but his growth into a better person is The Point. they deepened his flaws (all of which were present in a less exaggerated form in TOS) To Show That Growth.

and then of course there’s his relationship with spock.

people are totally justified in not liking that they had a rough start to their relationship, I usually don’t like to see that kind of thing in reboots or hollywood adaptations either, but the way people talk about it is just unfair.

Yes kirk and spock and bones have a very strong relationship in TOS, they also already know each other by the time the show starts. to look at them having to learn to get to know and trust each other when they first meet and say that it’s Bad because they were already full on ride or die for each other in the og series is silly. TOS kirk and spock had to meet and fall in love with each other too, it didn’t just happen over night kings.

secondly, the entire point of the first movie is that Even With reality itself being altered to pull them apart they are fundamentally compatible people that are Bound to each other. they meet each other on bad terms because of circumstances outside of their control, and yet they’re still pulled into each other’s orbit and find the other slotting into place next to them as if they always belonged. one of the first things that spock prime says in the movie is “I am and always will be your friend,” spock and jim are Meant for each other and the movie goes out of its way to explain that. which is what makes it so Weird to see people complaining about how they don’t like each other.

it’s a Different relationship, but it’s absolutely no less steeped in yearning or queer subtext. 

speaking of queer subtext ! some people are Very unhappy with spock’s relationship with uhura.

first thing I wanna say is that making the argument that they’re doing anything that the original series hasn’t done is just, completely untrue. kirk has fallen in love with more girls in the og series than he knew what to do with, leonard nimoy was a heartthrob in his time (and he deserves it, awooga) and spock reflects that ! Spock usually turns the women who come onto him down (or when he doesn’t it’s because a plant has literally altered his mind), but there are exceptions to even that. all of three of the main boys have plenty of romance subplots, it happens. if that takes the possibility of them being queer off the table for you (which it shouldn’t, m-spec people exist) then I’m sorry to say that TOS is not exempt.

now, I can understand why Specifically This Relationship could rub people the wrong way or being disappointed that they didn’t outright depict kirk and spock as having a relationship (if not in the first movie then in the following ones after they’ve gotten to know each other), but even in that context the way I’ve seen people talk about it comes off as insensitive.

no, the relationship did not come out of nowhere. they considered having spock and uhura date each other in the original show (and you can see signs of this in the earlier episodes, where uhura very obviously flirts with him and they spend time together in their down time) before they decided against it, and spock was originally going to kiss uhura until shatner insisted that he wanted to do it (because it was the first interracial kiss on tv). [Link 1, Link 2, Link 3]

nichelle nichols was asked about this exact thing (spock and uhura’s relationship in the movie), you can read the interview in full here [Link] but I’d like to highlight this paragraph in particular:

“Now, go back to my participation in Star Trek as Uhura and Leonard (Nimoy) as Spock. There was always a connection between Uhura and Spock. It was the early 60’s, so you couldn’t do what you can do now, but if you will remember, Uhura related to Spock. When she saw the captain lost in space out there in her mirror, it was Spock who consoled her when she went screaming out of her room. When Spock needed an expert to help save the ship, you remember that Uhura put something together and related back to him the famous words, “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m afraid.” And Uhura was the only one who could do a spoof on Spock. Remember the song (in “Charlie X”)? Those were the hints, as far as I’m concerned.”

the film makers looked at the fact there were Hints for uhura and spock, that they were Interested in exploring an interracial couple for the first time (both before and immediately after interracial couples won the right to legally get married) but Couldn’t because of the circumstances of the times and decided to Make that depiction. you don’t have to Like their relationship just because of that fact, but it’s Incredibly reductive to play down it’s significance as just a No Homo cop out. explicitly queer relationships are not the only progressive or culturally important relationships in fiction.

moreover, if you can’t imagine polyamory in the communist utopian future that’s on you.

moreover, this perception that this was a soulless cash grab is just, unfounded.

leonard nimoy returned to the role as spock for the first time in 16 years (since 1991) and this was Entirely because of the respect they had for nimoy, spock as a character, and the franchise as a whole. 

Lets look at some quotes from nimoy in interviews regarding the film:

Leonard Nimoy: When I first read the script (...) I immediately contacted J.J. and said “I think it is terrific…I think you guys have done a wonderful job. There is still work to be done, but it is very clear that you and your writers know what you are doing and you know how to do this movie and know what it should be about….and I am very interested.” Then as time went by we worked things out with Paramount, but the most important things were J.J. and the script. (...) I am very pleased about that and I am very comfortable with where this is going. I think the writers have done a terrific job. They have a real sense of the characters and the heart of Star Trek and what it is really all about.

(...)

TrekMovie.com: Now in the case of the new movie you have been retired from acting for years. What was it about this one that made you want to act again and go through the make up again? What was it that made you say ‘I really want to do this?’

Leonard Nimoy: You are right, this is a special situation. First it is Star Trek and so I have to pay attention. I owe that to Star Trek. Second place is that it is J.J. Abrams who I think very highly of, he is a very talented guy. Then came the script and it was very clear that I could make a contribution here. The Spock character that I am playing, the original Spock character, is essential and important to the script. So on the basis of those three elements it was easy to make the decision. So those three things: Star Trek, J.J. Abrams, and an interesting Spock role.

[Link]

Praising the cast playing younger versions of characters from the original 1960s TV series, he [Leonard Nimoy] said: “Let me take the opportunity to say this. Everybody at this table [the cast] are very, very talented and intelligent people.”

“They found their own way to bring that talent and intelligence to this movie, and I think it shows. (...)  When Karl Urban introduced himself as Leonard McCoy and shook hands with Chris Pine, I burst into tears. That performance of his is so moving, so touching and so powerful as Doctor McCoy, that I think D. Kelley would be smiling, and maybe in tears as well.”

“The makers of this film reawakened the passion in me that I had when we made the original film and series. I was put back in touch with what I cared about and liked about Star Trek, and why I enjoyed being involved with Star Trek. So, it was an easy way to come on home.”

“[In this Star Trek] they said things and showed me things, and demonstrated the sensibility that I felt very comfortable with, and I think that shows in the movie. I like it.”

[Link 1, Link 2]

again, you don’t have to like it just because leonard nimoy did, you don’t have to Agree. but the idea that nobody working on the film Cared is provably false. near everyone working on the project was already a fan of the series or were excited to be involved and did their homework. it’s genuinely a Miracle just how much of a labor of love this was, and in my opinion you can feel that through the movie itself. I’d highly recommend looking into interviews and behind the scenes details about the movies. they had a respect not just for the source material, but for leonard nimoy as a person.

there’s definitely more I Could say about this, but it’s 4 am now so I’m gonna shelve it jklfdsa

that said! it’s Fine to not like the movie, not everything is going to be suited to everyone’s taste, but the specific criticisms I’ve seen feel very off base

[bluebellhairpin]

The Kings Queen

King!Erwin Smith X Queen!Reader

A/N: It came to me in a daydream; I was MC; and certain British actor was he. And now it is no longer dream, but reality - if only because now in ink. - Nemo

Summary: In order to get his politicians off his back, Erwin needs an heir. The problem is, he isn’t even married yet. An arranged marriage is set, and his new queen is surprised at how compliant he is at waiting until she is ready. 

Warnings: Misogyny is a major one here guys. Arranged Marriage. Age gap (he’s in in forties, and mc is in the twenties area). Talk of pregnancy, and children. 

Listening to: ‘Once Upon a December’ from Anastasia (piano version) 

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist

A month ago it scared you, and scared you now. You stood next to a man you didn’t know, vowing your life to him, and all you could think about was how uncomfortable your corset was, how the headpiece dug in behind your ears, and how much you would rather be anywhere else.

Doing anything else.

Being with anyone else.

You wanted to be curled up on the armchair your grandfather made, your younger sisters at your feet next to the fire, as you read aloud to them from a book they probably didn’t understand. Your mother would be on a couch across from you, needlepoint in hand, and your brother and father would walk in. Your father would kiss your mother’s temple, and your brother would join your sisters on the floor, handing them two small, handcrafted, wooden figures. 

But instead you were here.

Standing under a chapel steeple, holding a bouquet that was too heavy, in a dress that had too much fabric. Almost half the city was crammed into the pews behind you, eyes hot and boring right into the back of your skull. Your almost-husband at your side. Your king at your side. 

You were getting married to Erwin Smith, and he was the monarch of the land you grew up in. 

You knew what was to follow. You knew why you were taken from your content life and thrust into the much higher end of high society. You were to give him a child tonight. An heir. And if it were born a girl, then you were to keep giving until it became a boy, and then some. 

You weren’t sure if it were that which scared you most, or that you never got the chance to have found a love of your own. You weren’t giving anything up aside from your family in marrying your king. There was no farm boy or baker's daughter that you were leaving behind nor betraying by speaking the vows that came from your mouth. 

No others lips had touched yours, and no one else’s fingers had grazed your wrist as Erwin’s did now. You marked off your shivers and incapability to meet his eyes as nerves, and nothing else. 

Before you were taken away by your uncle, your mother told you something. She told you to notice things. Notice the people. Give them what they want, graciously, so that they have want for nothing, and then want of their own to spare. 

So when you turned around to face those people, the crown which now held both allies and enemies, with your new husband’s arm wound around your waist, you noticed the people. You saw their smiles and cheers and decided to take your mothers words to heart. They were your people now, you were their queen. 

So you fought down the nerves, painted on your best smile, and sent greetings and waves to as many as you could as you made your way to your new home.

You had to admit, like most children, you did gaze upon the castle and it’s stone walls, wondering what life behind them was like. 

You had been once before, a garden party when you were younger and your brother was only a tot. It was one of the few parties the lesser and higher nobles alike were invited to. As equals. It was the first Erwin held after he was crowned king. He hadn’t had one like it since. 

You remember wandering off into the rose maze with your brother's hand in yours. Being only ten years old, your mind made the brush of thorns and baby-pink blooms into a lot more than what they really were. Whether it were to comfort yourself or to keep your brother calm, you made up a little game. 

Somewhere in the maze was a dragon; blood red scales and teeth as long and sharp as kitchen knives, a belly full of flames, and a smell for human flesh. If you stayed stagnant too long, it would find you around the next corner and swallow you up in one gnash of it’s jaws. 

But there was also a Prince in the maze; brave, gallant, and knight-like in every way possible. With hair golden like fresh cut hay, and eyes as clear and strong as ocean waves. He would wield a sword with a blade so sharp that one blow would send that dragon straight to its death.

Of course you didn’t tell such things to your brother. They were a bit intense for a four-year-old, so you dulled it down a number of notches. 

Imagine your surprise when you ran into someone, with hair the colour of fresh-cut hay, and eyes of the clear blue. He offered you his hand, and told you he’d keep you safe from that ‘dragon’ who was chasing you. 

And he did stay true to his word. You did get out of the maze safely, even if there was no dragon he was protecting you and your brother from. 

You remember that boy, a man really, and how he was handsome with his youthful features. Back then you didn’t know who he was. Namely that not only a few months ago he really was a prince, and that now he was the king hiding from most of his own party guests. 

That was around fifteen years ago, naturally things were a little different this time around. 

This time the party was inside, with tables stocked with foods - some you’d never even seen before - and candelabra’s. The room was already filled with guests, chattering and laughing, some even dancing with did bring a smile to your face. There was a group in the corner, playing instruments in all forms available. You had been changed before you joined your husband in a chair slightly smaller than his. Apparently being seen in your wedding dress at your wedding reception wasn’t proper, and that you needed to wear a more dulled-down version to eat. 

The corset was just as tight.

You’d barely said more than a few words to him, and now here you were. 

You excused yourself early from the celebrations, and no one batted an eyelid. ‘Preparing’ yourself might be proper. 

There was a lady, a bit older than yourself, named Nanaba. She helped you out of the stifling corset and the wads of white fabric. The putting on of the night slip and it’s robe was a lot nicer. It did not require a corset, as nice as it might make you look. She sent in for some tea, and once it arrived she excused herself. 

You wish you’d spoken to her more. She was nice. And it may have calmed your nerves a little. But you didn’t and you couldn’t will yourself to do anything except cling to the bedpost furthest from the door and wait. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long. 

The door opened, and in stepped your king. You found yourself sucking in a breath, nails grazing into the polished wood, and you cast your eyes down to put yourself in check before looking up at him. He looked over at you, smiling lightly and shed his outer layer of clothes before sitting down at one of the chairs near the fire Nanaba lit earlier. 

You wondered what he was waiting for. 

“Come sit, please.” he said, shuffling a little to set up two dainty tea cups. “This is your home too now, the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable.” 

You let out a quiet puff of air, playing with the new ring on your finger before making your way over to the chair opposite him. 

“You are quite timid, aren’t you?” he mused, offering you a steaming cup, “I supposed though anyone would be all things considered.” He sat back, and you finally took a moment to notice how much he had to be admired. ‘Handsome’ was barely a word to describe him, but those blue eyes, and his hair looked like it would be soft to touch. It made you think of that ‘prince’ from the game you made up in the rose maze outside. What luck would bring you both to meet a second time. 

He caught your eye again as he took a sip of his drink. 

“You can take comfort in knowing nothing will happen tonight, nor any night in the foreseeable future.” he said, voice hushed and quiet and indeed comforting. “We are barely acquaintances, let alone friends or lovers.” 

You couldn’t help but gape at him, letting your tea get colder. 

“B-but why? You need a child, I… I-I’m here to give you one -”

“- no, that what all those lords want. The child that they want me to have is going to be yours too. It’s not my body that will be their home for the first nine months of their life. I admit,” he said, setting his cup aside, “I will need an heir eventually, but it’s no matter or urgency to me.” 

“Not until I’m ready?”

“Not until you are ready.” he nodded. 

“That’s very kind of you, your majesty.” 

“Call me Erwin,” he said, taking to his knee as the glow of the fire reflected off his face, “At least when it is just us. Please?” 

You let out a laugh, light with nerves and giddy fluttering in your heart, and brought a hand up to your mouth as you turned to compose yourself. You turned back with a smile to see his face matching yours. 

Who knew you were seemingly fretting for nothing. 

“Only if you also call me by my name.”

It was a well-known fact to even the ‘commoners’ that there were not many men in the kings court who were good people. 

Within your first week of living in the palace you knew Erwin was one of them. 

Despite his often off and rough ways of getting to and around things, he was a good man. He did have a good heart. 

Another was a much older man named Dot Pixis. He had an odd manner of speaking, and his ways were not always perfect. But he always went out of his way to treat you kindly - something many others viewed as easily brushed aside - and he had a loyalty and trust to Erwin that you sensed not everyone had.

You also took kindly to Levi Ackerman and Miche Zacharias, both head guards set to protect Erwin and yourself, respectively. They both did marvelous jobs, for you nor Erwin had been hurt by someone will ill-intent yet. And despite both their quiet natures they were nice. At least Miche was. But they weren’t really ‘in parliament’. 

Nile Dok was the only other of those men that didn’t send your gut reeling in some way. He had a family on his own, too, and you’d seen how he treated them the morning after your wedding night. He truly loved them, and a man who loved his family like that was one who you trusted. Your own father was like that with you. 

Many other new friends were found in your new home, too. Hange was the head librarian, and with the help of Moblit the rows and rows of books were kept - not organized per say - but everything did have a place. 

There were those in the kitchens, and the gardeners, maids, and military personnel. You made sure to greet them all when you could. You were more than happy when they returned the gesture, even if a little more than some of them didn’t. 

But there were people you didn’t trust at all. They made your skin crawl. You knew you didn’t come from a lot, and didn’t expect the same respect that Erwin had, but what they showed towards you? Even Nanaba commented how you should be treated better. 

However they would never treat you any less than a queen unless you were with Erwin. Unless you were with your husband, the most powerful man in the country. As much as you liked Erwin, and come to even love him in some very small way over such a short amount of time, you didn’t like that. 

You didn’t like how you couldn’t get their respect unless you were standing next to him. 

So you made up your mind.

[danielkaybooks]

Daniel's Disney: Beauty and the Beast

Continuing my thoughts about making famous Disney couples into brother/sister's, here is my attempt with the beloved classic Beauty and the Beast. It is always my preference to make the romantic couple full-blood vs. half-blood, so some of my scenarios may be a bit more difficult/extreme than necessary, but that's more fun for me.

If you don’t like the idea of Belle and Adam/the Beast being brother/sister AND lovers, please don’t interact!

Previously, I did Tangled and Aladdin.

Here we go--Beauty and the Beast! Obviously it would be easy to make these two half-siblings. Adam/the Beast's parents aren't featured at all in the film, so you can much more easily wrangle that. I especially want this couple to be full-blooded siblings, though, so here is my idea: Maurice is not Belle's real father.

I feel like this isn't even that hard of a thought--look at him. Certainly Belle didn't get her Beauty from him! As was common with older Disney films, Belle's mother is not in the film at all. This is very convenient for us, though. Let's assume that Belle and Adam were brother and sister, born to the same king and queen and raised together--at least partially.

The timeline in Beauty and the Beast is weird, if you don't know it. Adam is cursed to be a beast until his 21st birthday ("The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his twenty-first year") and the curse has been in effect for 10 years ("'For ten years we've been rusting, needing so much more than dusting" from Be Our Guest) at the start of the film. That means that Adam was cursed to be a beast when he was only 10 or 11 years old. Belle is 17 in the film, which would make her only approximately 7 when the curse happened. Where are the parents? Why was a little boy able to so piss off the enchantress that she cursed him?

Well, to start, the whole thing isn't well-written in the first place. I'm pretty sure the writers intended him to be an adult or at least a teenager when he was cursed, but the timeline doesn't work out that way, and would end up with a 31-year-old Beast with a 17-year-old Belle. Hot, but too big an age gap for Disney.

(This is not the face of an 11-year-old... Maybe it's Dad and Belle just thinks it's the Beast? Or...)

Anyway, in keeping with the canon we've been given let's posit that Adam's parents were already dead when he was eleven. Let's assume that the reason he was in charge of receiving or denying the enchantress in the first place at that point is because he was the 11-year-old king. Let's say he'd been a wild and particularly asshole-ish little king for a long time, too. Let's say that his parents died years ago, in fact. Let's say Adam has been the king for years at this point. His mother got pregnant with Belle, the king died somehow, the queen died in childbirth with Belle and Adam was crowned when he was four. Let's just say it was utter chaos from the beginning. Maybe there was no precedent for this; no advisors, no regent, no queen mother, nothing. It was just a cocky little four-year-old baby with a screaming little sister and Mommy and Daddy are gone and literally no one can tell him no.

A lot of the servants stay on because they need a job and assume eventually the brat will mature and grow up, but let's say that the little sister is very neglected and maybe even in trouble. The castle is probably hemorrhaging employees long before the enchantress shows up. Let's assume that as the ship is sinking, one of the servants decides to smuggle Belle out of the castle for her own safety. She's maybe one or two years old--too young to have any memory of the castle. (I considered that Maurice was employed as an inventor at the castle and smuggled her out himself, but he seems too unfamiliar with the castle for it to have been a former place of employment for him.) I like to instead imagine some kindly servant smuggled Belle out and either she fell in love with Maurice and they raised her as their own, or else Maurice somehow adopted her, all without knowing her truth birth right.

The the rest of the story happens as on screen. Belle is a long-lost sister that Adam has forgotten all about, and of course none of the servants would recognize her either. (Until/unless you want them to reveal the story of the missing sister and Adam and Belle put one-and-one together to discover the tantalizing truth!)

They look less related than I'd like, but certainly not outside the realm of possibility. Adam is blue-eyed and Belle is hazel-eyed, which are both possible for siblings depending on what eye-colors their parents and grandparents had, but it is possible. The same is true for their hair color. All in all, I really like this scenario for them. I do think there could be an angle with the enchantress, as well. Why she was angry enough to curse a bratty 11-year-old, for staters.

Anyway, what do you think? I plan to actually write a family erotica Beauty and the Beast-style story someday. It would likely be much more different than the Disney story, but I certainly like the idea of the lost-sister making her way back and falling in love with the Beast-brother she doesn't even know is her brother.

[winters-void]

A Real Father

relationship: Geralt x OC! Daughter (or reader)

a/n:  Requests are open! Thank you for reading!

warnings: abusive father (not geralt), minor character death, angst, fluff at the end, violence, mentions of blood. 

_____

Geralt found his heart pounding in his ears. He watched as the Striga fell to the ground, shriveling up and dying. It had curled around itself in a fetal position, protecting itself in it's final moments. He realized sadly that there was no saving this cursed being, anyone who knew anything was dead or 100's of miles away and before he found answers this whole town would be dead. It had almost killed half of them anyways.He'd already been paid so he needed to finish the job. As his potion wore off and he felt his eyes return to normal, he heard whimpering coming from one of the rooms and looked around confused.

As he walked around a corner and into a corridor he heard a young girls cries get louder and louder each passing second. "Mama!" A young voice squeaked. He entered the room from which the cries were coming from. A young girl was sobbing over the body of a woman who was presumably the mother she was crying out for. "Mama wake up!"

Geralt slowly entered, trying to not startle the girl as much as possible. The girl heard him and turned around quickly. "Sir! Help my mama! The king made us come in here, please help!" " Even from where he stood he knew there was no helping this girls mother."Still, he knelt down on the other side of her body and felt for a pulse. Already knowing the answer he sighed looking at the girl.

"I'm sorry." Geralt told her watching as the young girls eyes grew larger and filled with more tears. That's when the floodgates broke and the girl began to wail. Despite being the mere age of 6 the girl knew what his tone of voice and choice of words meant. He put a gentle hand on the girls back and she fell into his arms. "Why did the king make you come here?"

"My mama stole some bread to feed us." The girl whimpered into his chest. "We haven't eaten in days and he punished us."

Geralt felt his blood boil. He knew the king of this place was a no good piece of shit. He took a deep breath before helping the girl to her feet. "Where's your father?"

"Please don't make me go to him." She spoke, visible fear appearing on her face. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck and the girl visibly flinched. It was that moment he noticed how underneath all the dirt and grime on her skin were bruises ranging in various shades of purple. On her neck there was a scar going up to her cheek and down to her collar bone. It was a shiny pink meaning it was fairly new and healing. "Please." She whimpered.

He felt his shoulders tense up and he looked up at the sky taking in a deep breath. He knew he'd never let this girl go back to her father, based off of the condition she was in now; starving, bruised and smaller than the average six year old he'd just be sending her to her death. Especially with her mother dead, this girl was surely about to receive every beating her mother would get.

"I won't." He spoke gruffly. "We should bury your mother. Then we'll figure out what to do with you."

The young girl nodded wiping away a tear before looking towards her mother. She was bloody and had some organs missing. She closed her eyes knowing this image of her mother would be engraved in her mind forever. She had protected her daughter with her dying breath from this Striga. Part of her blamed herself for them being here in the first place. The young girl had been complaining about being hungry for a long time. In an act of desperation her mother stole a loaf of bread and block of cheese. They'd been caught and the King sent them to be food for the Striga.

"Can it be under a tree?" The girl sniffled. "She'd always tell me stories under trees."

"Sure." He grunted, he hoisted the girls mother into his arms gently holding her in a bridal carry and led the girl outside. Roach was tied to a tree branch, gently he set the girls mother down and hoisted the girl onto roach. "I'll bury her. Roach will keep you company"

"Thank you-" The girl paused realizing she didn't know this silver-haired mans name.

"Geralt." He told her and she nodded.

"I'm Rielah" She told him. "Thank you for burying her."

Geralt only nodded and picked up her mother once more. He went a little ways away to a suitable tree and buried the girls mother in a peaceful place, he gently lowered her into the ground and covered her back up with dirt before placing a yellow flower on top of the fresh grave. When he returned back to the girl she was petting Roach's mane lazily. Looking back at her, her pale skin was streaked with red from her tears and her hair was disheveled.

The road was no place for a child, but possibly he could find somewhere that would take good care of her somewhere along the way. For now though, he supposed she could stay with him.

____

If someone had told him nearly a decade ago that he would be taking care of a teenage girl he would have laughed in their face. But now, watching as Rielah pouted in the booth of the tavern they were staying at he realized that she was technically his responsibility and had been for quite a while. It was quite obvious that the young girl had grown on him over time, and he loved her as he would his own daughter.

"Stop that." He mumbled sitting down next to her with a drink in his hand. The girl only glared at him before turning to face the bar again.

"Stop what?" She asked coyly.

"Pouting." Geralt scolded and Rielah only huffed again. "You're staying at the inn while I hunt this Selkimore."

"Fine." Rielah spoke adjusting herself so that her back was facing him. Ever since they had arrived in this dreadful little village Rielah had been off. She was moody and irritable and didn't seem to want to be left alone for more than a minute.

Ever since the girl had joined him on his journeys he'd made it clear that she would be safer wherever they were as far away from the monsters he was fighting as possible. When she was little he did his best to find someone to take care of her but it was blatantly obvious the girl had become his daughter and he didn't trust anyone when it came to her wellbeing. He watched as she picked at the meal he bought her and he shook his head.

"May I go back to the room then?" She asked

"As long as you stay put." Geralt said nodding and by the time he got the words out she was gone and rushing to their room at the inn. "Teenagers."

Rielah looked over her shoulder as she opened the door to their room, making sure no one had followed her and holding the dagger Geralt had given her for emergencies close to her chest. When she was inside the room safely, she locked the door quickly- debating on whether or not to push something in front of it. She decided against it, realizing she didn't want Geralt to question her motives as to why. She knew she'd been acting odd since they got here but this was the place she was born. She didn't want to run into her father; she'd heard some of the townspeople mentioning his name in passing and felt her blood run cold.

Geralt knew she was from around this general area, they'd met in a rundown castle where the Striga resided and they traveled on from there never really discussing her past unless it was about her mother. Even that was rare though. Their relationship didn't offer much speaking, sure he spoke to her more than most but they were both quiet natured people so it worked out. Most of their communication existed by body language. A raised eyebrow typically asked if one was okay and a gentle hand on the back told the other they were there.

After drawing the blinds and doing all the other precautionary measures Geralt had instilled from a young age she sat down on the bed and waited for Geralt's return. She felt as if she wouldn't get much sleep this night and decided to read one of the novels they had picked up for her on their adventures. Geralt realized she would need some form of entertainment while he was away on his hunts and taught her to read. It was an easy way for her to pass the time.

Hours passed and Rielah set down her book bored. She knew she should go to bed but she didn't want to let down her guard down if Geralt wasn't there. Part of her felt like her father had been watching them ever since they arrived. The scars he had left on her both physically and mentally from when she was a child were still left littering her thoughts and skin. She heard the doorknob begin to twist and sat up straight. Logic told her it was just Geralt seeing as she had locked it and he had the only key, but fear told her it was her biological father.

The door opened, daylight seeping in behind it and Geralt stepped in covered in the guts of a Selkimore and she wrinkled her nose. "You've got something right-" She hesitated before gesturing to his body "everywhere actually, and you smell."

"Nice to see you too Rielah." Geralt said with a grunt before walking to the tub full of bathwater. She scrunched her nose once more and turned around to give him so privacy. "There's some Oren's in my pouch. Go get some food we can eat in between villages and whatever else you'd like. I'll meet you out when I'm clean."

Rielah nodded, gulping slightly. She hadn't been alone here without Geralt other than last night in the room. This was different though, being in the village would be putting her into a vulnerable position if she ran into her father. Grabbing Geralt's pouch out of the saddle bag she grabbed her black cloak and pulled up the hood over her head. She walked through the village, remaining as unnoticeable as possible until she found a man selling bread and cheeses.

"How much for two loafs?" She asked. Bread typically got them a long way on the road. They could pair it with meat Geralt hunted and eat it alone.

"10 Oren" The man grumbled and she fished it out of her pocket, not letting the man how much she actually had in case he tried to raise the prices. She took the loafs of her choosing and handed the man the money. He took it and shoved it into his own pocket.

Turning around she noticed a woman selling some clothes. She thought back to Geralt coming back drenched in the Selkimore guts and blood and decided he'd probably need a new shirt. She saw a black long sleeve shirt and decided that one would do. Next to it she saw a handmade necklace with a purple stone attached to it. She knew she'd never be able to afford it but it was pretty to look at.

"It's a pretty gem." A man said from beside her causing her to jump.

"Yes, it is." She said backing away cautiously.

"Suitable for a girl like you." The man spoke. "Maybe to draw attention away from that ugly scar Rielah." Her blood ran cold at the usage of her name and her eyes grew wide. Geralt was the only one who should know her name here. She tried not to show it, but she was petrified. There was no need to guess who this man was, it was her father. The man she'd been doing her best to avoid. "I've been waiting for you to show your face. Without that dastardly Witcher."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." She told him playing dumb attempting to make her voice sound as normal and unwavering as possible. "I really should be on my way my f-"

"Your father?" He sneered coldly. "You're right I have been looking for you. Ever since you ran off a decade ago you little shit. It's time you return home."

The man grabbed her wrist and jerked it harshly. At that moment, the hood of her cloak fell off revealing her face. More importantly though, it revealed the scar he had left many years ago. It had healed nicely over the years but there was still a thin white line from the mark he had made. Looking at the girls face and the fear showing in her hazel eyes. She felt herself retreating to the tiny young child terrified of her father. The one before Geralt; who taught her that a father is supposed to love their daughter unconditionally even when they make it hard. Not beat them for no reason.

"Sir-" Rielah spoke trying to jerk her hand away from her father only for his grip to get tighter. "I really must get going."

"Theres really no denying it now Rielah." The man sneered. She didn't even know her fathers name. What kind of a father did that make him? "You've been gone for a long time, but I'd know that scar from anywhere. I oughta give you another one for being away for so long with that damn Witcher."

"Rielah!" A deep voice called out and her head whipped around, golden tufts of hair getting in her face as she noticed Geralt making his way through the crowd.

"Geralt!" She shrieked watching as he looked back and forth for the teenager. "Daddy!"

That was enough to get Geralt's heart pounding in his ears. The girl he cared for was shrieking his name in fear. Pushing through the crowd he spotted her golden hair, getting closer he noticed a man holding her wrist in a death grip.

"Quiet girl." He heard the man grunt as he tried to get her to budge and walk.

He reached around to his back where his sword was kept and drew it upon the man. "Get your hands off of her."

Noticing the sword, Rielah's birth father let go of her hand and she let tears fall as she ran behind her true father; Geralt who ushered her directly behind him.

"I believe you have what's mine Witcher" The man sneered. "You took my daughter from me, cost me nearly a fortune to replace her hands at the fields. I bet you killed my wife too."

"Your wife was killed protecting Rielah, who is no longer your daughter and hasn't been since the moment you first laid a hand on her." Geralt gritted out. "If all you're worried about is the profit she can bring you in the fields you're a sorry excuse of a father." Geralt said pressing his sword closer to the man's neck. "She's been my daughter for the past decade, and if you lay a hand on her ever again it will be the last time you touch anything." The man glared at her from her place behind the silver-haired Witcher and she shuddered underneath his gaze. "I suggest you move along."

Spitting on the pair, Rielah's father turned around and walked off and Rielah let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "So that's why you wanted to come on the hunt. This is your home."

Guiltily, Rielah nodded and Geralt clasped a hand on her shoulder. "I wanted to tell you, but-"

"You don't need to explain yourself little one." Geralt said fixing the girls cloak and stroking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I see no need to return to this disgusting place anyways."

"Thank you Geralt." She said wrapping him in a hug. Rarely did they ever show physical affection to another but she felt like a hug was in order. Geralt was tense but eventually let down his guard and hugged the girl back."You've always been my father."

"You've been my daughter for a long time Rielah," He told her as they began to walk to Roach. He helped her up before getting on behind her. "That man has never been your father, and I'll never hesitate to protect you and I sure as hell will never lay a hand on you."

She nodded, grabbing Roach's reigns and leaning back against Geralt to steady herself as they left the girls hometown. As they left, she didn't look back once knowing that place was never her home. Her home had always been on the road with Geralt and Roach. He'd always been her father. He'd been the one to raise her, teach her, feed her. Everything about him was what a father should be doing for their daughter.

"I love you Geralt." She whispered quietly.

"Hmmm." He grunted refraining towards their usual silence on the road. She knew that was his way of saying it back, it was their language. He knew her better than she knew herself at times. She stared at the road ahead, wondering where it would take them next.

[dat-town]

poison like you

Characters: princess!you & guard!Xukun feat. king!Yixing

Genre: historical, fantasy, royalty, bit of enemies to lovers, bit of childhood sweetheart to lovers, bit of i’d die for you, angst with hopeful open ending

Warnings: blood, violence, murder, poisoning and death

Summary: If you wanted to kill the last son of the Dragon Clan, first you needed to get through his right hand man. Too bad he knew you too well but it felt like you didn’t know him at all.

Words: 11.1k

Author’s note: please note that even though this historical fantasy is inspired by ancient China, it is not historically accurate because it isn’t set in any certain era or even at any existing place. the governor structure and politics might be confusing but this is basically about a lot of small kingdoms (called clans) having a never ending war for more power over the area. Chinese mythical creatures exist in this world but have gone almost extinct during the wars. to know how i imagine this world, watch Lay’s Lit mv!

for the one&only @lily-blue​ 💕

As the only daughter of the Jade Clan's head, you had your responsibilities. To your father, his men and all the people under them. Most importantly, you had to do everything in order to protect the Clan. When the Dragon Clan started expanding its territory, winning over more and more land, becoming more and more powerful, you knew that no army could fight theirs, so you had to go to the war with wits instead of swords.

When your father proposed the idea of a reunion between the two Clans by marrying you to the son of the Dragon, you hated it. The other Clan was everything you despised: ruthless, brutal, selfish and while you knew arranged marriage was your future, you didn't want to rule next to a tyrant. But when your father said that this would be the perfect chance for you to kill their leader and rule over the united clans yourself, it suddenly wasn't that bad of a plan. Although you never wanted a huge empire and you didn't want the responsibility over so many people, freeing them from a bloody rule sounded like the best you could do. Especially now that the man needed an heir to secure his bloodline and power.

It took ridiculously few letters between your father and Zhang Yixing before you were off, on the road with only a chest of your belongings and another one full of gold and other jewels as marriage gifts. You had your most trusted maids and soldiers with you but otherwise you were alone, alone with your plan to poison your husband-to-be. Surely, you didn't think it was going to be easy while being surrounded by his people in a palace but getting there, the dark monstrum of a building wasn't like how you imagined your future to be. Everything wore the pattern of dragon scales, the city burned in the colours of fire and ash, even the waters were dark. People wore black clothes and wore their hair down without many accessories but despite the grayness of the place, the men and women you ran into didn't seem unhappy or living in fear. They must not have known any other life, so you felt sorry for them.

You were escorted to a chamber right away and compared to the light flowery room you were used to at home, this was very different but you didn't complain. Instead you inquired about Zhang Yixing's whereabouts and when you could meet him but the maid told you that he had a meeting with his generals, so you couldn't see him until the next day when you were supposed to have lunch together. You thanked her for enlightening you and after blaming your fatigue on the long voyage, you requested to be left alone. Opening your box of accessories, you pulled out a small glass bottle with yellow liquid inside. A few drops of it was enough to put a man to sleep, a whole spoon was surely death, so your only job was to get time alone with your fiance. Until then, you needed to play your cards well.

You were quite restless and maybe a bit paranoid but you couldn’t sleep during the night fearing that someone might attack you. Even though you knew you were now under the protection of the ruler of the Clan just by being Zhang Yixing’s fiancée, it didn’t calm your traitorous heart. You have seen enemies in every corner and yet, you raised your chin high, confident and proud when you were called to that lunch with your man to be.

Followed by a bunch of maids, you walked to the room on which Yixing decided and you took your seat on the opposite end of the long table full of delicious goods. The young king was already there, his pitch black hair falling into his almond-shaped dark eyes as he looked up at you sternly, eyes narrowing as if he wanted to see through you. His skin was pale against his black clothes that were simpler than you would have thought of a tyrant. You had never met him before but you heard stories of him and you heard descriptions of his looks. However, he was younger than you had expected, only a few years older than you, but with his defined jawline and rigid expression you could imagine him being the one behind the destruction of your neighbours.

He didn’t greet you but signalled that you should start eating and tentatively you reached out for the rice, chopsticks freezing in your hold as soon as he spoke up in a raspy voice.

"It's quite unexpected, your father's wish to join hands," he said calmly and it sounded like a challenge or a test, you couldn’t tell but you didn’t like the tone he was using to talk about your father. As if he was a weakling crawling to his feet.

"Is it?” you raised an eyebrow, daring to look straight into his cold eyes, watching his every move, every twitch. “I think it's a very reasonable timing. After all, you just reached our borders," you explained because he must have known there were not many choices you could take: it was either seeking peace or a war and your nation was a peaceful one, hence you would have done anything to keep it that way.

“Is your father afraid of me?” Yixing questioned and you bet he wanted to believe that, that he could scare the Jade Clan’s head. But your father was a born strategist, he always had a plan.

“Isn’t that why you’re doing this? You want other nations to fear you?” you counterattacked with a question, knowing the lesson yourself as well: If you cannot be loved, you must be feared.

You were well aware that it was a reckless thing to challenge the king. He might have been your fiance on paper but he could have just lifted his hand and have you killed and everybody you had with you to make it look like you were attacked on the road, never reaching his palace. However, for the first time since you had seen him, the man ahead of you looked amused, the corners of his mouth curling upwards.

"You have a sharp tongue for a princess," he said and it almost sounded like a compliment. You took pride in that with a raise of your chin.

"I'm the only child of the Jade Clan's head. I have learned how to wield any kind of weapon," you answered confidently. You might not have been an undefeated warrior but you had learned how to protect yourself and you knew too well that spoken words could cause just as harm as knives sometimes. But still, it seemed to make the young king interested as he bobbed his head towards you, leaning forward with his elbows balancing on the table.

"We could test that. Are you good at archery?" he asked, probably with the intention to invite you for a game. But his smugness irked you because he made it sound like he expected you to lose no matter what. So you did the least princess-like and least wise thing you could have done in that moment: you pulled your hairpin out, letting your long locks fall onto your shoulders before swinging your arm forward and letting the pin fly forward.

In the next moment two interestings things happened. Not only Yixing’s guards weren’t by your side, forcing you down or even killing you for your brazen act but he himself didn’t move. He looked into your eyes without fear and without anger. At the same time, you saw a shadow move so fast you didn’t think it was possible for a human and his sword hit you hairpin out of its path before it could have landed in the painting behind Yixing’s throne, hitting the dragon on it in the eye. The soldier, guard or whoever he was, wore black just like his ruler but there was a textil mask in front of his face, so he must have been a special kind of warrior. Not that you cared, your attention was back on Yixing immediately.

"You tell me... do you think I would be good at it?" you asked, finding the silence a bit unsettling, it was almost like the calm before the storm. But then the king laughed and you were baffled.

“What a bride you will make,” he tilted his head and then finally, you started eating.

 You were aware that you were lucky that you hadn’t been executed for that bold move you had made but it only ensured you that Zhang Yixing needed you. Or at least what you represented: the peace deal with your nation and a secured future bloodline. He could have probably forgiven as much. Or was he really that sure that either you miss the target or his guard would save him? You weren't sure but since you needed to know about his most trusted men anyways, you asked your maids about the masked figure. They didn’t know much, so you gave them the task to ask around among the Dragon Clan’s servants. You needed to know who your enemies were and where they laid. You also needed to know the palace as best as you could in case you needed an escape route or a secret passage to get to Yixing faster than anyone.

Hence, your night escapades started: once night have fallen, you pulled out a dark, comfortable clothing usually men wore and tied your hair high to not get into your way as you climb out of your window, up to the roof from where you could see the U-shaped building complex, knowing exactly where you should go: towards the king’s quarters. Running from rooftop to rooftop reminded you of your childhood when you practiced hide and seek in the palace back home. Your father had taught you how important it was to remain invisible and his advice still stayed with you as you made sure to dissolve into the shadows as you jumped to the gardens: step lightly, breath lightly like air in the morning but listen well and open your eyes because the smallest sounds, the smallest movements can be your enemy’s.

There were two guards in front of what you thought was Yixing’s suite but you didn’t care about that. You were more interested in the room where he planned his strategies to see if he really wanted to march through your home and bring war there just to conquer your other neighbours too. But before you could reach for the wooden door, you heard a shush and you crouched down just in time for the dagger to land in the wood instead of you. You bolted immediately, making a run for it, stepping up on a barrel you jumped onto the roof, so you could find a hiding place. You were prepared for such a thing. If things went South, you just needed to sneak back to your room, under the blanket and act alarmed when they banged on your door. You might have been from another Clan but nobody would have disrespected a princess by checking what she wore while sleeping and none of your maids would have said anything against you.

But you didn’t reach your quarters. No matter how lightly and in the shadows you tried to step, the one who followed you must have been really good because from one moment to another you felt yourself being hauled down from the roof, onto the ground. You and the man (based on his build) fell down together and lucky for you, it was him whose back hit the grass first with you on top of him. It gave you a bit of advantage to get to your feet immediately but you didn’t get far away. Dodging the man’s attacks, you had to admit that his training was very good, no fighter made it so hard for you to get even one hit and you grunted in annoyance when your back hit the wall of the stable. It was a full moon, so it was dark, only some tinkling light illuminating the palace for which you were grateful but it also gave you disadvantage because unlike your attacker you didn’t know this place. You felt a sudden pressure on your chest as a strong arm was pressed against it, a blade close to your neck but you only saw a silhouette.

“Speak, are you just a thief or a spy?” he asked, his voice sounding younger, softer than you expected but there was something dangerous to it. You didn’t wait enough to find out what it  was. You tightened your grip around the ceramic cup you had picked up earlier and smashed it against his head. You had indeed learned how to use everything as a weapon.

For a moment, it looked as if the guard’s eyes flashed gold in the moonlight but you were too busy running away, into the stable, scaring the horses and hiding behind a straw pile, controlling your breathing until the man who had come after you gave up and left.

You hissed when you touched the wound on your fair skinned neck. It wasn’t deep and didn’t hurt a lot but it was obviously a blade wound, one that a princess shouldn’t have. So to hide it, you brushed your head over your shoulders before you left for your archery practice with Zhang Yixing who wished to see your skills for real. He greeted you with an expectant smile to which you bobbed your head politely.

You didn’t talk much while taking turns, shooting arrows but you carefully and discreetly eyed his guards when it was the king’s turn, wondering if one of them was the one from the day before. Not that you could have told with their masks on.

After practice (you lost but only because you didn’t try too hard), you went to eat fruits in the gardens and you learned that Yixing was about to leave to check on his Eastern borders. He would be away for at least a week but promised to get the wedding preparations started with his servants. You knew that was why you came but still, it made you nervous as it meant you had less time.

“Princess!” A sudden, unexpected voice called after you when you were ready to leave with your maids. Nobody other than Yixing had initiated a conversation with you since you arrived, everyone waited for you to step first. So you were curious what this man, one of the king’s closest guards, could have wanted from you. Turning around, you saw him holding out your hairpin, the one you had thrown towards Yixing the first time you had seen him, the one someone dodged, could it be…

You looked up at the young man, his hair, somewhat ruffled in his forehead, mask covering his face under his eyes. He didn’t look at you, he casted his eyes down like a good servant would.

“Thank you,” you spoke up, a bit uncertain and there was a flicker in the guard’s eyes the moment he glanced up at you after his gaze lingered on your neck: something familiar yet scary but you blinked and it was over. You took the hairpin and left, your dress sweeping the floor behind you. That guard made you feel uneasy for some reason.

The next day Yixing indeed left and when you didn’t bump into the man from the other night for the next three days you were starting to think that he went with the ruler as well. It was only after you managed to sneak into the king’s room and out when you had to realize just how wrong you had been. You knew something was off the moment you stepped into your quarters. Your guards weren’t outside of your doors and the candle you left there lit up burnt out. It was already cold to touch when you lit it again which meant it must have blown out when your intruder opened the door earlier. You pulled out your sword and pointed it ahead of you, alarmed. Your shadow danced on the walls as the candle light flickered.

“It’s been a while… Princess,” the intruder spoke up much too calmly for someone who broke into a royal’s room. You could have gotten him killed for that but you froze. Not only because he must have known about your night adventures but because the playful tint of his voice was somewhat familiar.

The shadow stepped out from the corner, hands held up, defensive, revealing the guard from earlier. You furrowed your brows, not lowering the sword, not until the other pulled down his mask and the man you faced made you gasp.

“Xukun...” you whispered, almost whimpered, and you felt your knees weaken. But he– you thought he was dead.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” he suggested with a hint of a smile and you couldn’t agree more.

You could still barely believe that it was Cai Xukun in front of you, alive and grown up unlike the boy you had last seen him as. The boy you practiced fighting with, the son of your father’s general, your childish first love. He had never known, of course, you never had a future to begin with but still. You remembered being sixteen and so in love, secretly gushing everytime he had brought you wild roses saying they reminded him of you. But then at eighteen, he had gone off to a battle and never came back. You remembered the crinkle around his eyes as he joked, telling you not to worry, he wasn’t that easy to kill. Apparently, he was right but you didn’t understand what he was doing in the Royal Palace of the Dragon Clan as one of the high rank guards when he was supposed to be back at your home. If his father still lived, what would he have said about his son becoming a traitor?

“I knew it was you,” he spoke up, eyes a mixed colour, mouth in a thin line. You looked at him questioningly. Then he pointed at your neck without a word and you reached for the now scar on your throat. “Obviously, I didn’t know then. Sorry.”

“Why didn’t you report me then?” you asked directly, looking straight into his eyes and you let your gaze linger on the slope of his nose, the corners of his mouth, the sharp line of his jaw. He had grown up, he was more handsome than ever. “Or why didn’t you kill me during the past two days when you were following me?”

“So you knew,” Xukun nodded at you, impressed but you just raised an eyebrow. You had a guess. Everything was too easy, too quiet. When you didn’t answer, the once boy now man standing in front of you sighed as if he carried the weight of the world with him. “You should know I would never hurt you.”

You scoffed at him. You would have been naive to believe him and you weren’t a child anymore. Hell, you came here to kill the king.

“How could I be sure? It’s been years, Xukun, and you were nowhere! You gave no signs that you were alive and here you are, in an enemy clan serving their ruthless ruler?!” you spat at him and you knew that your words were harsh, that your tone was cold but honestly, you knew a barely 18 years old boy and not the young man who was in front of you. You were conflicted to say the least.

“Zhang Yixing isn’t ruthless,” Xukun corrected you. Of all things you said, he found this the most obnoxious thing you had told him out of all, he decided to correct that. You wondered why. Why was he loyal to him? Why when you had only known him to be a murderer and someone who dared you to show him her best shot?

“Isn’t he? Then how does he keep destroying these nations around us? He burnt the Moon Clan to the ground for the deities’ sake!” your voice rose by the end and you had to remind yourself to stay quiet. It would have been a scandal if someone knew you had a man in your room while your fiance was away. Your whole plan would have gone down the gutter if your reputation was ruined just like that. But you heard all the stories: the massacre in the West, the burnt towns in the South, the sunk ships at the sea. They were his doing or so people said.

“That… that wasn’t him,” Xukun objected, so sure of himself that it almost made you feel sick. “And it’s a war either way. There are no saints here. Your father isn’t one either.”

You knew how wars were fought, you knew that everybody including you was a sinner, you had both grown up in a world where you knew nothing but neverending fights, losing loved ones and never knowing safety. Yet, when the boy who your father thought of fondly dared to call him out, anger flared in you.

“My father sent his only daughter to marry a tyrant to save his people from suffering, so don’t talk about him like you knew him!”

Maybe it wasn’t what you said but how you said it, the sword you still hadn’t let go of trembling in your hand but Xukun paused, licked his lip in consideration and his voice was softer when he continued:

“I can prove that Zhang Yixing isn’t as ruthless as you think he is,” he claimed but you didn’t really care about that. You wanted to know why he was there, in the Dragon Clan instead at what you had known as a home.

“Does it have something to do with why you never came back? Like you promised,” you reminded him, sounding bitter at the memory. Gosh, you had been such a child. But who could have blamed you? He smiled and it tipped your whole world back then. But he just visibly gulped now, so you must have been right.

“I owe him my life,” he said curtly and you sucked in a breath, wondering whether he meant it figuratively or literally. You didn’t have to ask, Xukun kept talking as if now that he started, a river flood. “When the Phoenix Clan attacked us 5 years ago, I was captured. They must have known that my father was a general and they wanted to get to him. When they took me in front of their leader, Yixing was also there, barely a boy not much older than me, caught while sneaking into the tent while stealing maps on a mission for his father. They confused him for someone from the Jade Clan and thought he came for me. They let him go to pass a message to my father and then they left me in the desert far enough from the battlefield with an open wound. I was so sure I would die.”

You had imagined before how it happened. How he died, or so you had thought. You’d had nightmares about it. Seeing his beautiful eyes wide open in shock and pain. You’d imagined it on the battlefield but his body was never found. The nearby river had been red though, so you thought maybe… But it was all wrong. He was never really there.

Xukun unconsciously touched his abdomen with a grimace on his face and you wondered whether he felt the phantom pain of the stab but he kept talking without addressing that.

“The next thing I remember is waking up to being carried on horseback and Yixing yelling for a medic. I wouldn’t have thought he would come back for me, we didn’t even know each other after all,” he stopped short at that as if he was still dumbfounded that the heir of the Dragon Clan saved him then. Honestly, in his place you had been too. Maybe Yixing hadn’t had his reputation back then but you were still enemies. “When the royal medic told him I’m a lost case, he took me to a shaman and they made me drink something that cured my wound by the next day.”

“Dragon blood,” you whispered in shock when Xukun gave you a meaningful look.

There was no other way but the magical powers of dragons. Although there were more rumours than credible sources on that, nobody denied that any essence of the heavenly, snake-like creature could save lives. But there were too few of them, maybe exactly because humans dared to hunt them down for either their scales, antlers or their blood, you wouldn’t have thought it was still possible. Yixing must have paid a fortune to save someone whom he barely knew.

“See why I can’t go back home?” Xukun asked and mouth open in agapé, you casted your eyes down.

Such medication… such witchcraft was illegal in Jade nation. He would have been branded as a monster and exiled even if he went back. Dragons and creatures like that were considered sacred in your home.

“Where did they even get dragon blood from? Nobody has seen a dragon in years,” you took a shallow breath, trying to work through your messy thoughts.

“What do you think caused the fire at Moon nation?” Xukun asked knowingly and with hope in his eyes resembled the boy you had once known. He hoped you would believe him and you did but it wasn’t easy to digest all this new information.

The two of you just looked at each other in silence, a heavy one, before the sounds of the midnight patrol startled you. Hushed, you blew out the candle light, leaving you in the dark, speaking in hushed voices.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do but… please, don’t go against Yixing. I might not be able to save you then,” Xukun spoke up, his deep voice echoing in the room, you clenched your hands in fists. As if he was there to save you in the last years when you would have needed him.

“I don’t need you to save me,” you told him, hurt clear in your voice but he didn’t say anything. He left without saying a word, wind whizzing into your room as he became one with the shadows outside. His last words left you wondering. Would he have died for Yixing, even in his place even if the weapon was in your hands?

You told yourself it wasn’t because of Xukun but you didn’t sneak into the king’s quarters in the next few days. Instead you wrote a letter to your father telling him about recent events and what you have found out about the Dragon Clan’s plans based on what you had found in the strategy meeting room. You entrusted one of your best guards with the letter and sent him home.

Days had passed uneventfully then but only until Zhang Yixing and his men came back with news that knocked air out of your lungs: the Eagle Clan attacked the weakened eastern wing of your nation. You knew they had become daring lately no matter how your father wished to keep it a secret from you but it was still all too sudden. Your army wasn’t ready to not only stand guard in case you got attacked from the South but now from the sunrise side as well.

“You cannot tell me to just wait it out!” you rose from your chair at lunch when Yixing told you the news. You felt offended at how calm he was. It must have been just another attack for him, but for you, it was your home.

“What else could a princess do?” he raised an eyebrow at you challengingly and you would have liked to sneer at him.

“I’m not the type of princess you think I am,” you claimed, hating that he probably thought you were used to letting other people fight your battles for you. Just because your father didn’t let you go into the war because you were the sole heir of the clan, it didn’t mean you couldn’t have. But now, as Yixing’s fiancée you didn’t even have much choice. You knew you shouldn’t go against his words or he might dance back on his agreement with your father. But you panicked, so you did the only thing you could possibly do in such a situation. “What do you want? Do you want to marry immediately, so you would help? Or would you let them destroy my home even then?”

You were desperate, so you would have agreed to anything only if he sent a handful of soldiers to help your people. Hell, if you had become the queen you could have commanded them yourself. But the king seemed to have different ideas.

“I will help. On one condition,” he said slowly, tasting every word and you were holding your breath, waiting for him to reveal what he wished from you. “Show me what type of princess you are then. Let’s not lie to each other about these things, Princess.”

Well, you certainly did not expect that.

“What do you mean?” you stuttered and your heart skipped a beat when the man slid an overly familiar envelope onto the table. You were smart enough to not be obvious about what you wanted to discuss with your father but there were still hints in your letter about things you shouldn’t have known if you were just picking flowers and practicing embroidery like an ordinary princess would have.

“You don’t want to marry me,” the man said and even though it was an accusation, he didn’t make it sound like one. And yet…

“You don’t want to marry me either but it hardly matters what we desire. We come from the bloodline of royals, we have our responsibilities to our people. And my people need me,” you slammed your hand on the table, spilled rice wine pouring like melted snow. You caught one of the masked guards - probably Xukun - turning his head towards you at that.

“You don’t want to be a princess,” Yixing continued and it baffled you. As if you had a choice! “You have the heart of a warrior.”

Well, you couldn’t argue that, so you just gulped, looking over the table, at the man who was a mystery to you. What did he want you to say? You couldn’t possibly admit that you planned to kill him.

“Come with me,” the king said as if it was his ultimatum and there was something knowing in his dark eyes when he explained: “Come with me to the front. Fight with me and then I’ll help the Jade Clan.”

His offer was an interesting one, you didn’t quite get his reason but you nodded anyway. You were ready to fight alongside your people but you didn’t even have to look at Xukun to know he was frowning.

You left the next day, at dawn. You took all your guards with you and Yixing added his own as you departed towards the North… your home. You wore your comfortable man clothes, hair swirling in the air around you as you galloped on your horse next to the others. It took about two days to reach the endangered border, so on the night when you had to set up a tent you could be finally alone a bit. Since you were the only woman you got a separate place and nobody should have bothered you but the tent wasn’t empty when you got in there. Gosh, were your guards so imcompetent or how?

“Reckless of you to sneak into my tent. What would your king say?” you asked, words a bit biting. You didn’t have a chance to talk with Xukun ever since that night in your room and you knew, it could have been indecent to exchange words in front of others even if you explained that you knew each other from before.

“I came exactly because of that,” the once boy explained, sitting near your small table as if you had invited him over for tea. Only because you had known him before you noticed his fidgety fingers as a sign of nervousness. “Did you write about me in the letter he got his hands on?”

Oh. So that was what he was worried about. Disappointment made you taste bile in your mouth. You hated this feeling.

“I’m not stupid,” you told him curtly and turned your back on him to indeed pour some boiled water over tea leaves to soothe your nerves. Honestly, you thought about telling your father about Xukun but then you realized you didn’t know what to write. You weren’t sure what you should have. It wasn’t your place to decide and maybe it was for the better if your father still thought that he was dead.

“He… he has a man watching you. He told me he can’t trust me with that,” Xukun who once had jumped to hover above you when a wooden house fell upon the two of you during a heavy storm sounded pained admitting that. You gulped hearing his words and the worry lacing through them. You didn’t want to think of him caring. He disappeared from your life years ago, he didn’t get to worry about you now.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked, slowly, tentative as you sat by the table across him, putting cups of tea between you. Xukun waited until you looked up, into his deep brown eyes that had the most beautiful golden specks in them you had ever seen. Maybe it was just the lights’ doing but he still took your breath away, unfairly so.

“You need to be careful. He knows you’re up to something,” he pressed, desperate and you forced a smile, a charming, confident one. Oh, Zhang Yixing had no idea what was coming for him if he betrayed you.

“If he helped my people, our people, I wouldn’t have a reason to plot against him, would I?” you voiced out your thoughts, the decision you made on your own. If the king proved to be not as ruthless, just as your old friend claimed, maybe he deserved another chance. So you meant it but Xukun didn’t look convinced.

“Princess, I have something to discuss,” the cold, authoritative voice of the Dragon Clan’s head could be heard from outside and the pace of your heartbeats picked up, whipping your head towards the entrance of your tent then back to Xukun… or where he had been just before. Now, nothing but a smell of smoke lingered after him. You had no idea how he did that.

As it turned out Yixing wanted to discuss the reports he had gotten from the battle and if he had noticed the two cups of steamy tea, he didn’t make a comment on it. The situation was quite bad, the enemy had already gotten over the walls you had pulled up all those years ago. He had already had a man of his own let the Jade Clan general there know that Dragon soldiers were coming to rescue and not to attack, so if things worked out, you could crowd out the attackers from two sides. If you were lucky enough you could bait them towards the river where they were more vulnerable. It didn’t sound like a bad plan at all and hearing Yixing’s strategies, you understood why he had won so many battles but what surprised you was that he didn’t intend to drown everyone in the river or kill them on the spot, he sounded like he hoped they would give up and retreat. You wouldn’t have thought that of the ruthless Zhang Yixing.

Knowing how wars worked was different than being there, in the middle of a battle, sweaty, limbs tired, blood dripping from the end of your sword and a painful bruise blossoming on your left shoulder. You saw red and adrenaline carried you as you shouted and attacked the next man with mace in his hand coming at you.

“Princess!” Someone screamed and you dodged the sword aiming at you just in time but its owner stepped closer, pushing you backwards on the slippery ground. You weren’t strong enough to push him back.

“Princess, huh? How interesting,” the man, covered in dirt and blood not his own, grinned at you, a hand clasping his hand around your throat, squeezing hard. You gasped, clawing at his arm with your free hand because he pushed the one that held the sword close to your chest with his. For the first time in your life, you felt powerless even with a weapon in your hand. You tried to kick and get away from the soldier but you couldn’t and felt disgusted by the names this disgusting leech called you.

You didn’t know how long you had fought back but the noises of the battle started to fade out when suddenly the man was yanked away from you but you still felt his blood splatter across your cheek as a sword pierced through his chest. Panting, gasping for air, you stared at Xukun behind the fallen soldier and he stared back at you, eyes glowing dark and golden. You smelled something burning...

You heard the screams before you had seen the source of sudden panic and shock.

You looked up to where everybody was pointing while running and you had seen a huge dragon appearing above the walls of Jade. Its fur and scales were dark like the night sky except a few gilded ones that looked like burning fire from afar while his antlers were long and ivory. It was terrifying yet beautiful. Its honey-coloured eyes gazed down upon you mere humans and it seemed to have a concrete target in its mind as it flew above you rippling the water and air behind.

Xukun grabbed your arm, trying to pull you away but his touch felt burning too and you couldn’t take your eyes off the dragon that halted in the air, levitating just above the ground, its huge head merely an arm away from Zhang Yixing who stood there alone, unmoving. It reminded you of the day when you threw your hairpin at him, how calm he was and you still couldn’t believe what you saw when the Dragon Clan’s leader lifted a hand and put it on its head as if he was trying to discipline a dog.

Thunder roared above and Xukun managed to pull you away now that everyone had scattered all over hell's half-acre. He took you farther, inside the wall of your nation and you only noticed that he must have been hurt when he stumbled and you had to catch him before he fell.

“Kun!” you shrieked, scared, the old nickname slipping naturally as you put his arm around your shoulder and pulled him inside of a half-destroyed house nearby. Your hands trembled as you let him sit down and then looked around to look for a lantern to light it.

In the dim lit room you kneeled next to the guard, his clothing soaked with his blood and you could see sweat forming on his forehead. How did it happen, you questioned, but it wasn’t the important thing. With a shaky breath, you reached out to peel off the bloody material from his chest to see the sword cut across one shoulder. You hissed seeing the fresh wound and all that blood. You cursed in frustration.

“Shh… it’s okay,” the boy whispered with droopy eyes, taking your hand, weakly pushing it away from the cut.

“It’s not okay,” you argued and you could feel tears in the corner of your eyes. Did he get hurt while trying to get to you? Did he forget to pay attention to himself because he saw you? You felt guilty and you hated that, you didn’t want to be the reason why he was hurt.

“There’s something you should know…” Kun coughed and grunted at the pain flashing through him. He had his eyes shut, teeth clenched and it hurt to look at him. “I– I heal faster than normal… The dragon blood that saved me…”

“I know,” you cut him off, not wanting him to exhaust himself with speaking. You could see him struggle, his eyes bright gold when he opened them briefly. His blood was working its magic.

To be honest, you didn’t know, you just had a guess up until now. His golden flashing eyes, the warmth radiating off him, how fast and soundless he could move or disappear leaving only smoke behind… It was because of the dragon inside of him.

There were legends saying that if a person spared a dragon, it would be bound to him for life and the blood of an alive dragon in a human would create a connection between the two. A connection that could call the other half if one felt threatened. Although it was just a theory, with the intensity of Kun’s eyes on you, the beautiful burning fire in his pupils made you believe you were right, that the dragon appeared because he feared for you.

There was a short cut growl leaving the boy’s mouth and you grabbed his hand, letting him squeeze yours while you could see his skin basically knitting itself back together, the wound closing in as if it had never been there. It might have been only a few minutes but it felt too long with how much it seemed to hurt the boy you had just saved your life. When it was over and he opened his eyes, they were plain brown again – your favourite though – and he looked tired.

Oh, thank the deities, you let out a relieved choked sound and you didn’t even notice you had been crying until Xukun didn’t wipe your tears off your cheek. He looked at you as if he had seen you for the first time, properly at least and you felt your lips tremble. Heavens, you had mourned him once and now you almost lost him again. Suddenly, a rush of emotions rippled through your body, your fingers tentatively touching the freshly healed skin.

“You’re so warm,” you whispered in awe since his skin was hotter than expected and you knew it wasn’t fever caused by the wound.

“Princess...” he muttered oh so gently and his hand, wet with your tears, slipping from your cheek to your neck, caressed your skin just like his voice caressed your soul.

“No,” you stopped him firmly and when confusion flashed in his orbs you told him to call you by your own name. It was a command, a request, a plea. It was everything and a sweet little nothing at the same time.

Kun’s eyes widened at the permission but pushed himself away from the wall to lean closer and he sighed your name into the seam of your mouth. You closed your eyes feeling his hot breath tingling on your lips and when he kissed you, you melted against him like wax melted near fire.

Once the storm passed, you could still feel Kun’s touch on you. It was like a vivid memory and it tasted sweet on your tongue even if you knew you were being naive.

You didn’t talk about it. About what it meant because you both knew you couldn’t. But you were stupid enough to forget about your other problems when you had seen the retreating army. Your people could be a bit more safe at least for a little while.

“Cai Xukun!” Another guard called out when he caught sight of his comrade next to you. He looked panicked and it scared you. What now? The man walking up to your duo looked at you warily before answering the question about his worried expression. “The king is injured.”

Oh. Interesting how it was what you had wanted since you had left home but now that Zhang Yixing was bedridden, you found yourself worrying and by the looks of it Kun too. The two of you were escorted to the king who lay on a makeshift bed, chest wrapped with a cloth that he had already bled through.

“What happened?” you questioned, looking from one soldier to another. This didn’t look like something caused by the dragon’s claws or teeth, it was definitely a human-caused injury and your guess was confirmed when one of the men told you that while he was trying to calm the dragon, someone from afar shot an arrow through him. It made you anxious because what if they captured the dragon? What would that have meant to your people, to Kun?

“And the dragon?”

“It chased them away and is probably in the mountains,” the man said and that made you a bit relieved even though you weren’t sure you were allowed to feel that while your fiance was bleeding out only a few steps from you. You nodded in acknowledgement and made a hand movement to excuse the soldiers. Soon, you were left with only Xukun in the room.

“Why isn’t he healing? Doesn’t he...” you looked at the boy, not understanding why the injury took its toll on the king when Xukun healed within an hour. Was it some kind of special arrow damped in poisonous liquid? Was it...

“No,” The guard cut your words off but you could already tell by the look on his face that it wasn’t how you thought. “He saved the dragon and it now serves him but he never got its blood and I… I think the dragon is hurt, too.”

“What?” you were dumbfounded how he could tell something like that when you had left the field together, so he couldn’t have known about this. Not by seeing it happen. But as Xukun clenched his hand in front of his chest as if he was hurting, you started to understand. They were indeed connected after all.

“I can feel it. I can’t explain but its energy...”

A hurt dragon in the mountains. A hurt king in the desert. Gosh, things really weren’t on the path you hoped them to be. You suddenly weren't sure what worried you more.

“Do you think the dragon is in danger?” you turned to Kun, fingers fidgeting with the handle of your sword by your side. If those from before knew that they managed to wound the creature, were they looking for it? Anyone who got control over a dragon could have immense power, you didn’t even want to think about it. Especially the dragon that had this special connection with the boy beside you.  “Go then. Help the dragon!”

He seemed surprised and conflicted at your nudging. He didn’t move, eyes flickering to the bed behind you.

“But Yixing...” His protest fell short when you quickly explained:

“I will stay with him and wait for the medic,” you promised but weren’t sure Xukun trusted you with something like this until he reached out to take your hands in his. His palm was warm like every other part of him too, his fingers felt nice against your dirtied, dry skin. He squeezed your hand gently in agreement.  

“Call for a shaman, too,” he added and you nodded with a lump in your throat. You needed to get prepared for any kind of situation.

You could have been called a loyal fiancée based on how you spent day and night next to Yixing, watching over his recovery. However, he didn’t get much better over the course of days and you didn’t hear about Xukun either. The only reassuring thing was that you weren’t attacked there, at the border of three Clans. You couldn’t leave either way because the king wasn’t well enough for such a long voyage and you wanted to be as close as the mountains anyway.

The medic said the arrow hit Yixing so close to his heart that it was a miracle that he was still breathing and it scared you more than you had expected. You let him change the bandage and stayed by the unconscious man, putting fresh wet cloth over his feverish forehead.

That night, marking the third without Xukun, the king stirred awake.

You looked up from your place beside his bed, startled. It was the first time he seemed more conscious than just to drink a bit of water or ginger soup because his eyes looked alert. For the first time since you had met him, he seemed scared.

“The dragon...” he croaked out with a hoarse voice due to not speaking for days.

“Xukun is looking after it,” you told him reassuringly and held a metal cup to the king’s chin, urging him to drink a bit. He gulped down the fresh water as if it was healing potion and once he finished with the entire cup, he fell back onto the sheets with a painful sigh. Closing his eyes, he traced his ribs until he reached the bloody bandage over his wound and hissed. He must have suffered more than he showed.

“I would have never thought I would have my fiancée look after me after a battle,” the man whispered, deep voice weak and uncertain, a little playful though. Although his words were conveying the truth, it made you feel like someone who committed adultery. You knew you didn’t swear either loyalty nor love to each other with the king but after learning how he had saved your first love from certain death, you didn’t want to do something like this to him. You needed to come clean even if the timing was quite off. 

“With all due respect, Zhang Yixing, I’m afraid I can't marry you,” you said quietly, expecting a frown or a scolding but none of it came. Maybe because he was injured but he didn’t react at all and for a moment you thought he had fallen back asleep but then he slowly opened his eyes again and turned his head to be able to look you in the eye.

“I had a feeling,” he nodded calmly. He didn’t seem angry nor disappointed. He had already said your father’s proposal was an odd one, one with interesting timing. There was nothing interesting about it, it was just a strategy, a plan you didn’t want to follow anymore. But before you could have spoken up, to apologize, to ask whether it meant your alliance was off, Yixing continued: “Xukun treasures you too much. He was the one who urged me to trust your father.”

“He… Did he tell you about me before we met?” Words stumbled out of your mouth before you could have stopped them. You were more than dumbfounded to know that. Had Xukun known about your father’s wish to marry you to Zhang Yixing even before he agreed? Was it him because of whom the king agreed at all? And here you thought that he had been just another guard, loyal to his king until death.

“He talked about you all the time,” the man reminisced with a faint smile on his lips as he stared at the ceiling. “He always says how I saved his life back then but with him here, not being able to return home, I feel like I have taken his life instead. Taking you from him would have been even worse.”

You cast your eyes down bashfully as you listen to him talk. Yixing’s side of the story was an interesting one as well. Learning how he didn’t save Xukun out of the kindness of his heart but because he wanted intelligence was something you could understand, something you could relate to as you lived in a world like that after all. You couldn’t even be angry, not when he told you how they had become friends over the years. As the king drifted back to sleep, you thought that maybe you could become friends as well, maybe you could still be allies. You didn’t necessarily have to be enemies.

But once being enemies, it was hard to forget and not everybody had the same insights as you.

You woke up to a small noise, only to open your eyes to see one of your own soldiers from Jade Clan stepping inside the tent. You had always felt safe next to your guards but this time, something was off.

“What are you doing here?” you questioned as you sprang to your feet from the seat you accidentally fell asleep in.

“Princess,” the guard bowed with respect. Though, he was clearly surprised to see you still there and you could see the hint of hesitation in his eyes before he answered. “I am here as per your father’s wish.”

You furrowed your brows. You hadn’t been notified of anything like this.

“My father’s wish?” you raised a brow, looking at the man expectantly but he didn’t reply, not with words at least. Instead he took out a small glass bottle with familiar yellow-ish liquid inside. It made the blood freeze in your veins.

“That wasn’t the plan,” you reminded the man even though you hadn’t even known your father told anybody else about it. Didn’t he trust you or… 

“It wasn’t your plan but your father had doubts whether you could do it with a cold heart. That’s why he sent me,” your guard informed you dutifully and your brain kept coming up with reasons why this was a terrible idea. It would have been much easier if Zhang Yixing was indeed the tyrant you had imagined him but after learning about his personality and starting to form an amicable acquaintance with him, it just didn’t make sense.

“I’m not the queen yet,” you objected but the guard didn’t seem to care.

He explained how the public sentiment had changed in your favour just because you stayed with the injured king in the last few days and there was something in his explanation that was quite logical: if Yixing passed away now, nobody would have looked for a murderer because he was already on his deathbed. Nobody would have known he didn’t die from the arrow. Nobody needed to know. But… it wasn’t the plan. If he died then, without a queen or heir, the Dragon Clan would remain without a leader and neighbouring nations would all want their pieces of it. If they got to know about the dragon too…

“It’s a chance we can’t waste. We need to prioritize the safety of Jade Clan,” your guard reminded you and for a moment you were stuck. If it hadn’t been for Xukun, you might have done it within a heartbeat, not even considering other options because Zhang Yixing was a dangerous man but now… you were torn, unsure what to believe. Your uncertainty must have been written on your face because your guard pushed the bottle into your hands, encouraging you to make a move and you gulped, too busy with your internal turmoil to react fast enough when you got company.

Four of the masked guards of Yixing stepped into the tent, one of them immediately slicing the throat of your man which made you scream. Two guards held you back from behind, not letting you move, to get any weapon while another one walked up to you, his dark eyes trained on you, his bloody dagger aimed at your throat. He forced the little glass bottle out of your hands.

“There was always something off with you, Princess. You should have been hung the moment you dared to fling your hairpin at the king,” he said, disgusted and you couldn't quite blame him. You raised your chin though, proud because as a royal it was expected of you even when you looked into the eyes of death. You weren't afraid of dying, you had walked out to the battlefield earlier with that mindset too, it was just… you wished you could have said goodbye to Kun.

You knew that the only reason the guard didn't kill you off like he did with your man was because you were a royal. If you died by a hand of a guard of the Dragon Clan, you knew your father would have gone to war against them and you also knew he would have lost which broke your heart even more. 

"So what now? Will you kill me too, in the name of justice because one of my men blabbered? You have no idea what we even talked about!" you accused the guard of making a scene over nothing because as of now prolonging the conversation was your best chance. Either Yixing could wake up and stop them, if he believed you didn't want to hurt him any more, or your other guards could show up as well.

"I have a good enough guess, Princess, but of course, you can prove your innocence by drinking this. If it isn't poison, you have nothing to lose, am I right?" the man turned the small glass bottle between his fingers. You didn't show reaction to that even though you knew you were going to die if you drank it all. But at least it was said to be a fast killer. You were contemplating whether you should have taken it and then spit it out saying it was bitter for your 'princess taste' because he wouldn't have been able to prove anything then. He could still kill you though but maybe it was worth a chance.

However, before you could have decided the tent's entrance flew open and a very dishevelled looking Xukun showed up. He looked like he was running and hadn't slept properly in days. The presence of guards, his comrades, seemed to surprise him, the dagger at your throat even more.

"What's going on here?" he asked in an authoritative voice even though you weren't sure he had a bigger rank just because he was friends with Yixing.

"The princess and her guard were caught trying to poison the king."

"That's not true!" You protested heavily looking for eye contact with Xukun, hoping he would believe you. It was all just a terrible misunderstanding. Once you might have wanted to cause harm but you had no reason anymore, not if you signed the Lotus pact with Yixing like you had agreed. When you met Kun's gaze, it was confused but not unkind.

"Then prove it, Princess," the older man said and pushed the blade closer to your neck where your earlier scar was still visible. The situation seemed to scare Xukun but you didn't want him to save you again, you only needed him to believe you. He seemed to think differently though.

"Let her go and lower your weapon, we don't have time for this," he stood in front of you pushing the man's hand away and flashing his golden eyes at the guards you kept you caged. Their hands immediately loosened their hold as Kun lifted his bag. "I have the dragon blood. Where is the shaman?"

One of the guards ran off with the bag to fetch the shaman but you could only breathe peacefully for a moment. Then the masked man with a slit across his eye crowded you and Xukun into a corner.

"My bad. Why would I have thought that you of all people can be rational? Do you think you were so discreet about disappearing, just the two of you? Are you maybe in it too? Did the two of you, Jade bastards, plan to get rid of our king to take over?" With each of his words, he poked Kun's chest with his index finger until the younger swatted his hand away. His voice didn't waver as he answered:

"If you really think that after all the fights we fought together, I feel very distraught," he said with his voice so cold like you never heard it before. Xukun's pride must have been on the line with his loyalty being questioned just because of his connection – maybe affection? – to you because the next thing you knew was him grabbing the glass bottle out of the other man's hand. "You know what? I'll prove it to you!" 

“Kun, no!” You grabbed his hands in panic, closing your fingers around his, so he couldn't lift the poison to his lips. Was he crazy? Did he want to die just for you to follow?

Or oh… he believed you. He really believed you and that it wasn't poison in the first place or maybe he believed you had nothing to do with it and knew nothing of it because when his eyes locked with yours, he seemed surprised that you stopped him.

You were both startled when the shaman arrived with the finished potion but before he could have stepped to the injured king, the man in front of you lifted his hand. Although you couldn't see his mouth, you would have bet he pulled it into a malicious smirk.

"Ah look at that, trying to save him from harm, how touching," he tsked, mocking before he pointed at the potion in the shaman hands and then at the bottle in Xukun's. “How about this? One cup has dragon blood that could save the Dragon Clan’s last son. The other which you claim isn't poison was retrieved from your room by your own guard. Choose wisely, Princess, what to give our king because your hero will drink the other one.”

“Why are you doing this?” you shrieked, having enough of this mind game of his. You knew he was just a loyal guard of Yixing and you couldn't blame him for not trusting you but did he have to go this far to make you suffer?

“I cannot let the filthy Jade Clan take over the Dragon Clan. So you either save him or be executed for killing him which was your original plan, wasn’t it?”

"Save the king, Princess," Xukun told you, determined and maybe he had a plan, a better one than you or at least you hoped. You looked him in the eyes mouthing Please don't at him but he just smiled. How could he act so nonchalant? "Trust me," he whispered.

You let go of his hands and maybe it was a mistake because he had told you: he owed Yixing his life. You barely stepped to the bed of the king, lifting his head to help the shaman give him the potion when you heard glass breaking. When you lifted your head you saw Xukun swaying, barely grabbing on a chair to stop him from falling and the broken glass was by his feet. The liquid from inside was nowhere which meant…

"Kun!" you screamed trying to run up to him, to help, to do anything but the guards turned towards you with their sword out and you could only do one thing, listen to the boy who had once saved you when the stable's roof collapsed onto you, he hovered over your body with his to save you from the impacts of the falling pieces. He always did.

So when Kun told you to run, you ran. Back to your own tent to get your sword to be able to fight off and it was ridiculous how only a few days ago you fought alongside these men but now they wanted to kill you. Oh, how fast the tables turn but maybe you deserved this, maybe you deserved to die for killing the boy you loved since you had been 16 and had given him your first kiss under the stars. You might not have a future but you wanted to believe nevertheless, but you ruined it all.

You felt tears running down on your cheeks as you dodged the daggers and swords coming your way, hissing when one managed to cut your arm. You ran, you didn't look where, you just wanted to get away. If you killed Yixing's men, peace wouldn't have been an option, so you needed to escape, that was the only way to stop another war.

You stumbled when a huge shadow overtowered you and heard the scared muffled sounds of the soldiers following you as well. Gulping, you looked up at the majestic dragon in front of you, its nostrils flaring and smoke coming out of its mouth as it huffed. It stood above you, staring at the soldiers behind you as if… as if it was protecting you. It made you feel safe, like Xukun, and gosh, you just cried harder because he was trying to save you even now. You fell onto your knees, not knowing what to do with this information and then…

"It isn't nice of you to chase my fiancée away from me, is it?" Yixing roared in a forever calm voice and through your tears you could barely believe your eyes when you saw him walk towards you. And not just him, it was Xukun who helped him move because he must have still been in pain. But how?

The masked guards seemed just as flabbergasted as you were. But Kun, oh the deities, Kun looked almost smug as he passed by them after Yixing pushed him towards you. Then he ran, ran until he knelt next to you, taking your face into his hands. You touched him as if you didn't believe he was real.

"I didn't want to…"

"I know," he assured you with a stupid smile on his stupid face like he did back in that ruined house where he kissed you like you were his life line.

"I can't believe you drank the poison! How could you be sure your blood would fight it off?" you whisper-yelled at him, hitting his chest all too weakly and he laughed, too. The nerve of him!

"I wasn't but Princess, I would drink poison over and over again if it tasted like you," he said with a smirk and you would have bet Yixing told him about your agreement because otherwise he wouldn't have been so daring. Or was it the near death experience? Or the thought of losing each other all over again? The wars might have been still messy, politics stressing, but in that moment, you didn't care, you just closed your eyes and kissed Kun back when he pressed his lips against yours, happily burning with him.

[sapphirelass]

Two Peas in a Pod - Harry PotterxSister!Reader

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For this one-shot I have taken inspiration from both the book and the film, as well as left out parts of the original dialogue that, for the purpose of this story, felt irrelevant.

Word count: ≈ 2400

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You probably already knew this, but still XD

(Y/N) - Your name

(Y/N/N) - Your nickname

(Y/H/C) - Your hair colour

(Y/H/L) - Your hair length

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Two Peas in a Pod

Harry Potter and his twin sister (Y/N) were like two peas in a pod. Always had been. Supposedly, that was what happened when young magicians had to grow up with muggles, especially if those muggles were named “Dursley”. Harry was always more impulsive, whereas (Y/N) took on the role of the rational one, yet they had both been placed in Gryffindor house by the sorting hat four years prior.

It was now the first of September 1995, and last year had been a rough one. Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who had killed Harry and (Y/N)’s parents, had just come back and despite their efforts, this holiday had been more miserable than any of the previous ones. Dudley and his friends, dementor attacks, and a general lack of communication with the wizarding world left the twins in a particularly bad mood. They arrived at Kings Cross, and after pulling Harry away from Draco Malfoy, (Y/N), her brother, Ron and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts express, and found a place to sit.

During the start-of-the-year feast, the small group of friends quickly realized that something was wrong. Their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor - Dolores Umbridge - was a ministry employe, which was weird on its own, but the way she spoke, acted, and kept interrupting Dumbledore with shrill, irritating *hum hum*’s made them all feel queasy.

After a quiet discussion in the common room (and quite a bit of loud arguing between Harry and Seamus Finnigan), they went to bed, yawning, and not exactly looking forward to that year’s first period of DADA.

***

They entered the classroom, and to their surprise, Umbridge actually wasn’t there yet. Harry and (Y/N) shared a confused look, but went to sit down, Harry with Ron, and (Y/N) with Hermione. Eventually though, the professor did arrive, her unnaturally high-pitched voice bringing them all back to reality.

“Good morning, class!” she said cheerfully

There was a quiet murmur among the students, and Umbridge shook her head.

“Good Morning!” she said again, this time more sternly. “I expect you to answer me when spoken to.”

A slightly louder “Good morning professor” could be heard, and though Umbridge didn’t seem too pleased, she decided to move on with the lesson.

“Ordinary Wizarding Levels - OWLs” she started. “Your previous teachers in this subject have all been quite questionable choices, however this year things will be the way they were meant to. Open your books on page 4.”

A few minutes had passed before Hermione raised her hand and said “Professor, there is nothing in here about using defensive spells.”

“Using spells?” Umbridge asked, laughing nastily

“We’re not to use magic?” Ron asked

“You will be learning defensive magic in a safe, risk-free environment”

“But”, said Harry, rather angrily, “what good would that do? If we were attacked that wouldn’t be risk-free!”

“Ha!”, laughed Umbridge, “And who exactly do you think would want to attack a helpless child such as yourself? Besides, the education you will receive will be more than enough for you to pass your OWLs, and that is after all just what school is about.” She finished with a smirk, looking rather satisfied with her speech.

(Y/N), who had sat quietly this whole time shifted slightly in her chair, and exclaimed: “It’s not though!

“Sorry?” Umbridge asked, dumbfounded

“School isn’t solely about receiving good grades! It’s about preparing the students for life, and supplying them with the tools and knowledge necessary in order to succeed and improve. If we’re not going to do that, then why, may I ask, is this a mandatory course? It’s already starting to seem rather pointless to me.”

Harry was perplexed. How his sister always managed to, 1: use her words in such a remarkable way, and 2: remain calm through the most infuriating of situations was a mystery to him, however he turned his gaze back towards Umbridge, waiting for her reply.

“Nonsense” She said. “This course is compulsory, and rightfully so!”

“How though?” Inquired (Y/N), pushing it further than she probably should have. “Can you name any situation, apart from the exam, where your teachings will be of any help to us? Or didn’t the ministry consider that?”

That was the top of the iceberg.

“DETENTION!!” shouted Umbridge. “My office, 8:30 would you be so kind, Ms Potter.”

(Y/N) flinched. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, however detention was not something she had to endure very often. That was more Harry’s thing. She sank quietly back onto her chair, and Umbridge continued with her boring, unnecessary lesson, reciting facts and procedures they had all learnt about 4 years earlier. (Y/N) could feel her brother staring, practically burning a hole in her neck, but somehow, probably thanks to Ron, he kept quiet for the rest of the class.

An hour later, class ended and none of the Gryffindor students wasted any time getting out of Umbridge’s classroom. (Y/N) threw her stuff into her brown, leather bag and dashed out of the room without making eye contact with her brother or friends.

“(Y/N/N)!” Harry shouted. “Wait up!”

He caught up with his sister on the stairs leading down to McGonagall’s classroom.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Looking up at him with an annoyed stare she said “Yes Harry! Just brilliant!” with a sarcastic tone in her voice. She kept on walking, but Harry grabbed her shoulder. A few years ago, they had been roughly the same size, but Harry had grown A LOT, and was by now almost seven inches taller. All the quidditch training had apparently paid off too, and (Y/N) knew instantly that she would never be able to escape his firm, yet gentle grip. He glanced down on her with a worried look on his face.

“I’m serious!” he said. “Stop”

She turned around and faced him. “What?” She spat at him, suddenly noticing her icy voice.

“Sorry…” (Y/N) mumbled, “she just pissed me off. I’m fine.” Her facial expression softened and she met Harry’s eyes for the first time since class ended. He let go of her shoulders, and was just about to say something when a tall ginger came running at full speed and gave (Y/N) a supportive pat on the back.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “(Y/N), did you see the look on her face? Bloody hell, she was angrier than Malfoy after Harry beat him in his first quidditch match!”

“Yes” stated (Y/N) simply, as Hermione made her way down the stairs, “I saw…”

“Oh cheer up!” stated Ron, “an hour or two of detention isn’t the end of the world. If you ask me, it was totally worth it!”

Hermione gave him a disapproving stare as (Y/N) sadly stated, “It might not have been the cleverest thing to do” Both Harry and Hermione blinked at her with a sort of “you-don’t-say?” kind of look as she kept on speaking. “But you must admit that it’s the truth? Defence against the dark arts has never been as important as it is right now. We are all going to die before the end of the year unless we learn and improve?!”

“You’re right.” Hermione muttered, and surprisingly, she smiled slightly. “But we’ll have to talk about that later, otherwise we’ll be late for transfiguration. Come on!”

***

The rest of the day went by rather quickly, and the quartet soon found themselves in front of the fireplace in the common room. It was about 8:20 when (Y/N) stood up, grabbed a jacket, and left for Umbridge’s office.

“Good luck!” Harry said, frowning deeply, “I’ll wait for you here.”

(Y/N) turned around quickly, “Haz, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine. You need your sleep and I have no idea how long this is going to take.”

Harry gave her a sort or irritated look, to which she sighed and left without a word.

“What do you think she’ll have her do?” Hermione questioned.

“I don’t know” Harry hissed, “but I’m sure she’ll tell me when she gets back...”

The remaining three looked at each other. Ron threw Harry a chocolate frog, and then - they waited…

***

*knock knock*

There was a slight clinking noise, like metal on china, followed by a repulsing “come in”. (Y/N) took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

“Ah!” chirped Umbridge, “Potter, sit down, will you?”

(Y/N) apprehensively made her way across the room to the chair her so-called “professor” had pointed at. She sat down and looked around nervously.

“You will be writing some sentences for me today, no” Umbridge said, as (Y/N) reached down to her bag to pick up something to write with. “no, not with your own quill. You’ll be using a rather special one of mine.” She smiled evilly, and pushed a black, pointy feather across the table.

(Y/N) grabbed it carefully and asked in a silent, trembling voice, “what should I write?”

“Oh, right! How about… ‘I must obey my superiors’?”

***

It was about three hours later, when (Y/N) slowly made her way back to the common room, red, hot blood dripping from her left hand leaving a small trail through the corridor. The pain had intensified, and was by this point almost unbearable. She took a quick detour to the girls’ bathroom, hoping to be able to clean herself up a bit before having to face her friends and brother. She had told him to go to sleep, after all, it was almost midnight by now, but she knew him all too well. The odds of him being in bed were absolutely zero.

She watched the thick, red liquid disappear down the sink and let a few tears fall, before grabbing some paper making sure no tears or blood could be seen. She had to make it through the common room up to the dormitories quickly though, since she was sure Harry would be able to tell she’d been crying, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Sure, she could just tell him, but something inside her argued against that. He had been rather angry and distressed all summer, and she knew he wasn’t feeling much better now. Harry had enough to deal with without handling her problems too.

Entering the common room, roughly four seconds had passed before her brother was by her side.

“Hey,” he said gently, “everything okay?”

She nodded and mumbled a quiet. “Yes. ‘m tired though, night Harry”

She walked the stairs up to her dorm, leaving Harry behind. He simply stood there dumbfounded. What had just happened? “Oh… okay, night (Y/N/N)”

She didn’t answer…

***

The following morning, he found her at the breakfast table, slowly digesting a tiny portion of porridge. She was wearing one of his old quidditch jumpers underneath her cloak. He knew, because it was far too big for her, and the sleeves reached down to her fingertips.

“Hey,” he said, ruffling her (Y/H/L), (Y/H/C) hair, “Feeling better?”

“Sure, “ she murmured, slowly pulling the sleeves even further down. He gave her a supportive hug.

“But come on now, “ he urged her. “You can’t be sad forever. What did she have you do?”

“Nothing…”

“(Y/N/N)!”

“Just write some sentences. It was fine, rather dull to be honest with you.” She threw the spoon into the bowl, and pushed it away. “How are you feeling? Any bad dreams?”

“Always…” he muttered, shaking his head at the milk that had splashed out on the table, “could have been worse though.”

Harry made himself some toast, as Ron and Hermione joined them in the great hall.

***

A week or so later Harry had had enough. It was in defence against the dark arts, on a rather cold Tuesday afternoon that he finally snapped, and shouted at professor Umbridge, who seemed almost too happy for a reason to give him detention.

The gang sat, yet again, around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, when Harry suddenly left and climbed through the portrait hole. He came back a few hours later, a downright furious look on his face, and walked straight up to his sister without even noticing the ghost he had stumbled through. He looked down at her smaller frame, his quidditch jumper yet again pulled over her head.

“Let me see, ” he said through gritted teeth, causing (Y/N) to look up at him, trying her best to act confused.

“Wha…”

“(Y/N) - let. me. see.” he repeated firmly, his emerald eyes penetrating the mental wall behind which she had been trying so hard to hide her troubles.

She closed her eyes and pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. The blood had naturally dried, however five heart wrenching words were etched into her still red, irritated skin.

I must obey my superiors

No one said a thing. (Y/N) was staring at the floor, not daring to meet her brother’s eyes, all while Harry felt madder than he ever had before.

Madder than when Dudley had been pushing him around the school yard.

Madder than when Malfoy had taunted him because of the dementors.

Madder than when he had found out that his aunt and uncle had lied about their parents true fate for almost 10 years.

This was his sister, and it was far from okay.

Without thinking, Harry was just about to shout at her for keeping something like that from him, when he noticed that she was crying. Soft, quiet sobs that she were clearly trying to hide. It felt as if all his anger simply washed away, and he crouched down and took her hand in his.

Harry’s hand was still covered in blood. He hadn’t had time to clean it, but had instead taken the shortest way to the common room, after realizing what had happened. Raising his right hand, he pulled her closer and felt her lean her head on his chest. They sat like that, arms wrapped around each other, for hours and slowly started drifting off to sleep.

Were they okay? Not at all. Would they be? Absolutely! Because they had each other, and when it really came down to it, that was all they needed, as the Potter twins were just like two peas in a pod.

~ L

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