#fae au metal and magic
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xandolin ¡ 2 days ago
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fellas, is it gay to tenderly stroke your partner's horns while he has a mental breakdown into your chest? just checking.
latest chapter of metal and magic destroyed me in the best way so im immortalizing this.
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evilminji ¡ 11 months ago
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I woke up to this thought? And it made me smile~
Wrong way Au?
It's EASY to fly from point A to point B. Linear. Just on long, no traffic, straight line. And if you get lost? Go higher! There you are! But "normal" reporter families with Totally Human genetics can't exactly DO that.
Plus? It's part of the whole Americana thing!
Childhood.
Gotta do a road trip, see weird road side attractions, camp and hike a bit. Go somewhere other then the farm for once. Soooo~ everyone into the car! Yes, you too, Kon.
And don't look at Lois, kids. She hates this idea as much as you do. But it's for Dad. So we're doing it. Get in the car. Some times loving people means "suuuure, honey! I TOTALLY want to sit in an uncomfortable car for hours for your nostalgic dream trip!", so get comfy.
Problem is? He either can't navigate for SHIT (unlikely) or this patch of nowhere? Possibly haunted? Cursed? Fuckey. Very, very Reality Fuckey. Far more likely, honestly. They THINK that was the a same barn the passed four times now... but it looks... wrong? Off. Worse each time, in ways that are hard to place.
Where the FUCK are they Clark?
According to the GPS?
Here.
(You are Here. You are Here. You are He-)
Oh, THAT'S not cursed! She fucking KNEW they shouldn't have left the city. FUCK the countryside. She likes ONE(1) small town and it's where her in-laws live, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! If they die, she swear to GOD-!!!
Then Jon points to colorful tents up the road. A mix of the kind you buy at big box stores and Ren fairs. Balloons. What the fuuuuuck? "Fenton Family Reunion"?
Was... was that THERE a second ago?
Clark's very deliberate Not Too Tight Grip Of Panic ™ on the steering wheel? Confirms that No Honey, it was not. Kon points out? That eventually they ARE going to run out of gas. They should stop.
Words can not express how little the Kents want to do that. They have KIDS to protect. This feels "magical fuckery" to them. AKA? One of the few things Kryptonians very much CAN NOT handle.
And luck getting ahold of anybody back there kids? No? Emergency lines too?
Fuck ™.
Okay! Guess we're stopping! Stay behind us.
They park.
There are campers and trucks, modified tanks and trackers. A few horses grazing side by side with an honest to God moose and two mules. A Llama. Someone's anchored a dirigible. A boat with spindly chicken footed legs, like it's the house of baba yaga's sea faring love child. The name Fenton is slapped on everything. Peoples faces.
Grinning.
Everything grinning.
As they get closer, the racket gets louder. Crashes and smashes. Roaring laughter. Explosions. The screech of metal failing and the whine of energy overclocked. Fatty meats cooking. Spices from around the globe. Radios and instruments, at least one of which violently cuts off in a smash.
They pass an almost violently balloon choked arch, into chaos.
Grinning giants, everywhere. Every color, every shade, every race imaginable. The spectrum of humanity laid bare. Made large. Grinning, Grinning, Grinning. Crashing into each other, against, through. Smashing and laughing, as everything breaks around them. Titans.
Darting underfoot, children. Fast with wild eyes. Mad grins and fae laughs. Wives and husband's, partners and friends, dancing in and out of the chaos. Just as destructive. Perhaps MORE so. Grabbing meals from grills, laughing and joking, tossing children into the fray, all as they effortless hold conversations of their own.
Like a Dionysian revelry, all madness and joy.
Then they are noticed.
"Cousin!"
One of them booms. Locking eyes on Clark. He doesn't even have time to move, doesn't realize until too late, in all the chaos, that the man meant HIM. A running start is followed by a brutal, full body, flying tackle. Clark is taken skidding to the ground and into a headlock.
"LETS WRASTLE~!!"
He watches in helpless confusion as, with high-pitched war cries, a pair of twins jump Jon. They are wearing war paint. Krypto already taken out by a glowing green dog, now confused and wrestling off to the side. Lois has whipped out her tazer. Kon between her and who ever comes next.
By the time he wrestle his "cousin" off of him, he's lost sight of them both.
Dives into the fray.
Magic be damned, that's his FAMILY!
It... It's the most fun he's had in years. That any of them have. He finds Lois in a breathless, screaming, debate/fistfight with her new best friend. Samantha "call me Sam Or ELSE" Manson-Fouley-Fenton. Kon is in the mud pit, wrestling other teenagers in some sort of battle Royale. Jon? Has become king of the ferals. The other parents are impressed.
His years of Damian wrangling finally paying dividends, apparently.
By the time Clark FINALLY tracks down Krypto, there is already crowd and it apparently six heel turns deep into the WWE Grand Saga of the Fenton Pet's League. Krypto, what the hell. No. No you may NOT "form one last alliance against my sworn wrestling enemy, to prove the true meaning of Christmas!" It's the middle of SUMMER!
Clark... Clark is so tired.
He's also a Fenton now. Yes, he KNOWS that's not how anything works. YOU try explaining that! He's on the call list and card list. It's like the Addams family out here! They just... just DECIDED him and his family were related! They've apparently DONE THAT BEFORE!
They leave with directions, fudge, more leftovers then anyone could possibly eat, and a massive new extended family. One that honestly? The Justice League SHOULD have known about. The sheer destructive chaos they get up too? EVERYONE should be aware of them. It seems impossible NOT to be! But? According to THEM, it's a "family thing". Reality tries to ignore them for "it's own sanity"? What???
So yeah.... no more road trips.
How was YOUR weekend?
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @lolottes @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation
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kiame-sama ¡ 5 months ago
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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 6
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(Quickly running out of Monster men drawings to use as my chapter pictures. May be a hot minute until I get the next chapter out since my laptop can barely stay conscious long enough to draw another one and I want to only use the monster AU versions of the characters for this series.)
Warnings; multiple yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, monster AU, eating Humans mentioned, more AU history, Cater is not having a very Cay-Cay day, food is an excellent way to bring groups together, Fauns, Satyrs, Kelpies, Crow Fae, Unicorns, Water Nymphs, vampire bats, dragons, cervitaurs, Raiju, Mermen, Cecaelia, Gnolls,
~~~~~~~~
Lunch finally rolled around and you were surprised that Ace and Deuce had actually taken Trey's words seriously and accompanied you to classes. Ace had loudly complained about his volunteering for a little bit but once he saw how many students actually took an interest in you, he stopped complaining and started viewing the task as a kind of important role only he could do. Naturally, Deuce was far less irate about the situation though there were times he almost came across as a punk when it came to others trying to harass you. Both had adjusted well to being around you and come lunch Deuce was actually taking pride in explaining things to you.
"-and that's what makes Fauns different from Satyrs."
"So Fauns are the nicer version of Satyrs?"
"For the most part. Satyrs are known for being loud and always wanting to fight-"
Ace cut Deuce off, shoving an uncooked carrot into the Faun's mouth to silence him. You had seen the two interact and you got the distinct feeling that the Faun and Satyr had more of a brotherly relationship with one another. Where they both had different personalities, when they did agree on something it was practically a law to them.
It was fascinating to hear that these monster men had similar names to the mythical creatures from your world and you wondered why such an overlap existed. Maybe the Humans from your world did interact with this world in the past, or maybe it was just a coincidence. Still, it seemed almost too close to be mere coincidence.
"Anyway, now that Dunce here is done talking-"
"You know my name is Deuce-"
"Like I said, now that Dunce is done talking, I have questions for you, (Y/n)."
You almost laughed at the back and forth banter of the two Goats- Faun and Satyr respectively- as their voices fumbled over one another. Truth was, you had been expecting far more questions than the few they threw at you between classes, so now was as good a time as any to ask.
"Okay, what do you want to know?"
"So, you don't have magic? Like, at all?"
"No magic whatsoever. Where I came from, magic is a myth and no creatures have magic."
"Okay. But how do Humans survive? No horns, no claws, nothing to protect themselves from bigger creatures."
"We make weapons. I know you all have bows, arrows, and knives, we have the same. Guns too, but I haven't seen any guns used here."
"Wait, what is a gun?"
"Basically an automatic bow that fires little pieces of metal using explosive powder that needs a spark which launches the metal through their target."
Ace seemed almost excited by your vague explanation of a gun, opening his mouth to ask you another question. His voice died in his throat as his gaze locked onto something behind you, prompting you to turn around to look at whatever it was that had unsettled Ace.
Standing not too far from you was the large figure of the Horse-man Trey. Ace told you he was a Kelpie, but you just couldn't make that connection seeing as he looked like a big white horse and not a water kelp-horse like Kelpies were supposed to be. He was clearly making good on his threat to check in as he approached you with a patient smile on his face.
"Hello (Y/n), have Heartslabyul's first-years been adequate guides for you today?"
"Yes. Grim doesn't even have to try half as hard to keep me safe now and I haven't been late to any of my classes other than the first one."
Trey gave a genuine smile at this, nodding his head as he was pleased to know his choice had been a good one. Seeing the centaur made you wonder about Cater and what may have become of the air-head student. In some ways, you worried asking would have a negative effect, but you were so curious you couldn't help but inquire about him.
"So... What happened to Cater?"
"He is being dealt with by the Headmage. He's lucky he isn't going to get expelled for what he did, but once the Headmage is done with his punishment, he's going to be turned over to Riddle."
"Is Riddle mad about all of this?"
"Well... I actually haven't told Riddle yet. He has a short fuse and isn't going to take Cater's actions well, especially since he asked both Cater and I to protect you if we happened across you. Odds are Cater is going to be collared and kicked out of his room for the foreseeable future."
This made you frown in contemplation at the prospect of the Red-haired student being punished too harshly. Though you were upset Cater took photos of you without asking and likely set several poachers on your trail, you didn't want harm to come to him. Sure, he was stupid and made a stupid choice, but he shouldn't be hurt or kicked out of his home for it.
"... If he is kicked out of his room, is there anywhere else he can go?"
"No. Riddle is very strict about rule-breakers being banned from the dorms so long as they have one of his collars on, and most other dorms aren't keen to house a student that isn't theirs. He's probably going to be sleeping in the Heartslabyul lake if Riddle doesn't ban him from there too."
The morality of the issue weighed on you and made you worry about the ditzy redhead. Though you didn't really trust Cater or his clearly impaired decision making skills, you still felt like he deserved basic decency despite his actions. You knew firsthand how the creatures that lived around campus were genuinely terrifying and dangerous, so you didn't want him thrown to the metaphorical or actual wolves.
"Can... can Cater stay in my dorm?"
Your question earned you several dubious looks from the Goats and Trey as if you had grown another head or said something unhinged. Even Grim had to pause his hesitant raw veggie medley- the only thing the cafeteria served today- to stare at you in surprise.
"You- you want Cater in your dorm? Why?"
"Well, it wasn't like he knew what he was doing was bad, and I don't think he should be left outside for his poor choice."
"(Y/n), do you realize how vicious poachers are in Twisted Wonderland? You will be hunted every moment of every day because Cater couldn't keep himself from posting you to that stupid Magicam app he is obsessed with. The second you are unguarded you will be attacked. The Headmage is even considering assigning Sam and Vargas to your dorm just to make sure poachers can't get in, or even moving you to Diasomnia so Malleus can protect you. I don't think you understand just how seriously we need to take your safety."
"I'm just a Human though, I'm not a princess or someone important. Why all the fuss?"
Your comment made Trey let out a long and exasperated sigh, his gaze leaving your confused form as he tried to keep in mind just how new you were to their world. Humans were never just Humans in Twisted Wonderland, and them simply dying out has made a far felt ripple in the history of every known species. For so long, so many species had adored and tried to protect Humans, but even they couldn't save the fragile species from the hunger so many magic users had for their very flesh.
Most things in the technological realm and cooking realm- pastries and phones included- only existed because Humans led the way to them being invented. Even now, technology has been mostly stagnant for over a hundred years with only the Shrouds having any aptitude as far as advancements were concerned. Trey himself had Humanity to thank for his family's bakery and the many cuisines local to the Queendom of Roses.
"(Y/n), Humans have never been 'just Humans' to us. Maybe to Sunset Savana, but never to the Queendom of Roses. Even Briar Valley had laws in place to protect your kind from everyone else. I get you may not understand it, but compared to most other species, Humans were better than most in the emotional and critical thinking department. It was Humans creating new inventions, coming up with unique ideas, and above all else, peacekeeping between the various species and races to the point they were called Beast-Tamers. Most wouldn't even speak to their Fae counterparts until Humans got the two to interact amicably."
You were somewhat surprised to hear all of this, having been under the impression that Humans were mainly pets to the other species. It was interesting to hear what Humans were credited for and that despite all they did to help, they were still hunted as food until extinction. The few from Savanaclaw you interacted with had been both sides of the spectrum of threatening you or being peaceful to you and it made you wonder just what kind of species were still keen to get a taste of your forbidden flesh.
"Honestly," Trey continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if several Kingdoms and Queendoms sent ambassadors to take you away from Night Raven for your own safety. I just know the international law makers are going to have a field day the moment it becomes common knowledge that you're here."
It made sense that Trey was stressed about this, you knew from your own home how aggressively endangered and near-extinct species had to be protected, but you still felt Cater shouldn't carry all the blame. If it wasn't Cater, it would have been someone else. Just because he was the fool to do it first didn't mean that others wouldn't have tried or succeeded in the same endeavor.
"Still, if he gets kicked out of the dorms tonight, will you at least tell him I will let him stay with me?"
"If you really want me to," he sighed heavily, "I guess I can tell Cater about your offer. I won't tell Riddle though, knowing how that Unicorn is, he will actually harm Cater for even thinking about taking shelter with you after what he's done."
~•§•~
"HE DID WHAT?!"
Riddle was beside himself with rage and even stomped his hooves against the marble floors of the Headmage's office, almost cracking the stone with his rage. Cater was trying to sink into his chair and hide from the Sophomore Housewarden who was beyond the point of furious with the water Nymph. Not only did he get a dressing-down from the Headmage, but he was going to be thrown at the mercy of his own Housewarden who was known for being an absolute hard-ass on rule breakers.
"It wasn't like I was trying to target her! I just-"
"SILENCE! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO, CATER DIAMOND!"
The firm tone Riddle used made Cater shut his mouth and bow his head, trying to avoid upsetting the Unicorn further. There was no way he would be able to go back to his room at this rate and odds are he would be sleeping in the forest if Riddle had anything to say about it. Plus, he still had that essay to write for Trein that was due tomorrow.
"He apparently took a selfie with (Y/n) and posted it to Magicam with hashtags indicating she is Human. By the time I got him to delete the post, it had been downloaded several thousand times. Since then I have already received a call from the Royal Sword Academy Headmage to confirm a Human lives here now, and what we as the heads of our schools can do to protect her. No doubt representatives from Briar Valley and the Queendom of Roses have already been dispatched and will arrive on the island soon enough, not to mention how many poachers are likely on their way here as we speak."
Cater knew how upset Riddle was given the fact the Unicorn's horn was humming loudly with magic and the Unicorn himself was a bright red. Things really weren't coming up Cay-Cay today.
"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"
~•§•~
You felt a bit more comfortable with the school as a whole by the time classes had finished for the day. Practical Magical Theory was an interesting class, even if you really didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. According to Ace, you were lucky you didn't have Flight Class because there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to participate in the class itself. Still, you were happy to have a moment to let things settle down for a bit.
Ace and Deuce walked you to your dorm, but had been called to Heartslabyul by a quick text from Trey, leaving you alone in the dorm with Grim. Despite the beginning of the day being an absolute wash, the rest of the day hadn't been too bad. It was around this time you decided you may as well start on making some dinner. You could hear Grim's stomach growling already as you both went to the kitchen.
"Are you gonna make something good like you did for breakfast?"
"I'm going to try to."
"What are you gonna make?"
"Well, I was thinking we have the stuff here for a really nice soup-"
You were promptly cut off by the Kitchen door swinging open with a loud bang. Clearly, you were going to have to tell the professors or even the Headmage Crow about securing that side door given how it had already been used twice by others seeking to get into your dorm. Luckily for you, those that walked through the door had at least two familiar faces in the group.
"Sorry for interrupting," Lilia called out, happily making his way over to you in an almost bouncy gait, much like a bird hopping around, "hope you don't mind I brought Malleus, Silver, and Sebek too. I heard one of the Heartslabyul students blew the whistle on you being here in NRC. Figured you could use a bit of extra protection in case any poachers try their luck. Besides, the nest here is just as big as Malleus' nest in Diasomnia."
It was then Malleus spoke, his voice a deep rumble in his chest as he looked over you.
"They will not lay a hand upon my hoard without paying with their lives for such a transgression."
It was clear the Dragon was not happy with the events that took place and he seemed to be quite content claiming you as one of his Hoard. When Lilia explained it to you last night, apparently the moment Malleus decided he was adding someone to his Hoard, he became extremely attached to that person and would even become violent in their defense. Given the way others talked about him, he must have been a genuinely frightening and powerful person to command such fear and respect.
"... So does that mean I'm making soup for all of you or..?"
"If you don't mind. I certainly want another bite of your cooking, (Y/n)!"
Lilia took his perch back on the counter and swung his feet, seeming rather impish and almost childish in his behavior. You just shrugged and nodded, gathering enough ingredients to feed the group several times over. Your hope was that there would be some left over for you to take during lunches. As nice as it was to have raw foods once in a while, you'd rather your meals be cooked.
Grim clearly only trusted Lilia and sat next to the Bat to watch you bustle around the kitchen. He even let out a soft purr when Lilia began to pet his forehead and ears. Where you would have scolded them for sitting on the counter, it wasn't like you didn't have enough counter space already. Starting the broth and preparation was rather simple for you and it was clear those standing around you were keen to watch you prepare the soup.
"(Y/n)," Grim meowed, "where did you learn to do all this fancy stuff?"
"Humans usually cook their food. So I just learned while growing up. Of course there are some things you can have without cooking, like a sandwich or a fruit salad, but most big meals are better cooked. Now, that doesn't mean every Human can cook well, but most are good enough at it."
"So does that mean I can have more of the food you cook?"
"Like a bigger portion? No. But you will always get to have some of whatever I make, okay?"
Grim purred loudly at this, his face lighting up with an excited smile. Clearly the little creature was pleased with your arrangement even if it meant he had to go to boring classes with you. The food was absolutely worth it and he got to sleep in a mountain of pillows and blankets after a long day. It was all way better than the hole in the ground he occupied when he wasn't actively running for his life before he met you.
Once you got most of the soup started, you knew it just needed to be covered and cooked, listening idly to Lilia talk with the others about the events of breakfast and the Gnoll that invited himself in. It was when you finally got this moment that you took a good look at the other two visitors who were either Silver or Sebek, seeing as Lilia didn't point out who was who.
Much to your surprise, one of them reminded you of the Kelpie and Unicorn you had met earlier but he had an obvious three point antler rack attached to his head. His lower half was that of a reindeer and was fairly fluffy compared to the short coats of the Kelpie and Unicorn. Part of you wanted to test if he was as soft as he looked, but you figured it would not be considered appropriate to pet him.
The second new face was an almost canine like man with pale green hair that was slicked back and spiked up at the ends. His eyes were intense as was the apparent scowl that held his features, two sharply pointed dog ears atop his head. Bright yellow-green eyes tracked your every move and regarded you with as much curiosity as you regarded him. The similar medium length tail fur swayed lazily as his tail slowly began to wag when you looked at him.
The soup was beginning to smell rather good and it was clear four of the five others in the kitchen were taking note as they occasionally sniffed the air. Lilia, Grim, Silver, and Sebek were clearly keenly interested in the scent but it was Malleus' behavior that caught your attention. Instead of sniffing or lifting his nose as the others did, his forked tongue slowly slid from between his lips like a snake as if he were tasting the air. You almost laughed at the oddly reptile behavior before his gaze suddenly snapped to the door of the kitchen.
Standing in the doorway was a curious looking man that seemed to have fins on the sides of his head. His almost scaled skin had a kind of faint green tint to it with intense blue undertones, his eyes being two different colors with the right one being a pale gray and the left one being a bright gold. Atop his head were tousled blue-green locks with a singular black stripe that crossed over his forehead above his left eye.
"Oya, it seems I'm not the only one with culinary interests. Apologies for intruding, but the lovely smell drew me in. Would you mind telling me what it is you're making?"
You were surprised to see the almost Fish-like man despite how polite he was being with you. Instead of hopping in to defend you, Lilia looked at you for what you wanted to do with this interloper. Malleus seemed rather keen to rid you of this newcomer's presence but you held up a hand to stop him from acting. Part of you worried this new visitor was dangerous, but because he was wearing a school uniform you figured he was just another student.
"Soup?"
"... May I ask what kind?"
"Only if you tell me your name first and what you were doing around my dorm."
"Ah, forgive me. It seems in my haste to get to the heart of the matter, I forgot my manners. My name is Jade Leech, I'm the Vice-Housewarden of Octavinelle. I'm going to assume from your appearance you are the highly talked-of Human now living on campus. Azul informed us that you would be remaining here for the time being. As for what I was doing, I am rather interested in the foods that grow wild above water, so I was out gathering some mushrooms to sample."
He lifted the foraging bag that hung over his shoulder, showing you the contents within. He was right in that he had gathered up a fair few number of mushrooms and there were several that you actually recognized. You were no master of mushrooms- of course- but you still recognized a few species that were safe for you to eat, seeing several button mushrooms among the many gathered.
Those would be great in the soup you were making, and it was early enough that you could add them right in and they would cook just fine.
"Okay, Jade. I believe you were at least out gathering mushrooms which is innocent enough. I'm actually curious if you wanted to trade for some of those button mushrooms you have, they'd go great in the soup I'm making. In return I'll tell you about it and you can have some to eat if you'd like."
Jade actually seemed to brighten up at this, his smile becoming less strained and his expression smoothing from the stressed way his brows had been pulled together. It was almost as if he had been wanting to ask for some soup but was far too polite to actually inquire. He nodded and set his bag on the counter, letting you pick out the little rounded white mushrooms from the selection he gathered.
"I'm quite partial to the cuisines the different kingdoms have to offer. Rare as it can be to find those who are masters of their craft, I would still like to sample the meals above the ocean waves. I would be grateful for whatever knowledge you can share with me. It isn't every day that someone adept at cooking graces this school."
"Hey," Grim interrupted loudly as you set to dicing the mushrooms, "that's my Hooman you're talking to! She only cooks for me, but I'm kind enough to share with all of you. Don't forget it, got it?"
Jade gave a rather patient simper to your primary companion, resting his right hand over his heart in an almost polite gesture.
"But of course. I'm simply interested in learning to make such meals for myself. I'm certain Azul and Floyd would be keen to taste such a wonderful smelling dish."
This seemed to satisfy your little companion as he nodded with a pleased smile, watching you add the mushrooms to the rather large pot you decided to make the soup in. Thankfully it was a cauldron type pot made for cooking soups over firepits. The fire so dutifully warming your meal crackled pleasantly even as you stirred the bubbling mixture.
"Do you want to ask them to come over, Jade? I made way too much. Honestly, everyone here could all have a bowl, a second bowl, and I would still have enough soup for the rest of the week. I think I went a little overboard in the food department. Should have probably started with a smaller pot, but we're already this far..."
Jade seemed surprised at this, but nodded respectfully and pulled out his phone. You were curious just what Jade was as you really hadn't seen many fish-men during your day, but you weren't going to ask him. If he wanted to tell you what he was, that was his business. Didn't make you any less curious though.
"If you're certain? I'm sure Floyd will be thrilled to have something new to try. He doesn't like some mushrooms, but I don't believe he has tried the ones you've selected, and he certainly hasn't tried cooked mushrooms yet. Azul may try to heckle you into a deal, however. He is always looking for new ways to improve the Monstro Lounge."
"Yeah, of course I'm certain. I offered, didn't I?"
He nodded and began tapping away at his phone, but Lilia seemed rather keen to speak up. The Bat had been listening keenly to the conversation and felt he needed to make himself clear to the notoriously crafty student.
"If Azul threatens (Y/n) or tries to force her into a deal, we will have more than a few problems, understood?"
"He is aware. Believe it or not, those of us from the Coral Sea are actually quite fond of the legacy of Humans. Even Floyd has been babbling excitedly about meeting (Y/n) here."
"That's right, Humans were popular among the various merfolk kingdoms. You all even have a famous story involving the mermaid princess falling for a Human and joining him on land."
"Yes. She struck a deal with The Sea Witch to gain legs she could use to dance for the Human man she fell in love with, too bad the deal didn't hide her gills or fins though. Still, the Human loved her."
You listened to the conversation as you stirred the soup, glad that all of the flavors seemed to be coming together rather well despite the large amount of food you found yourself making. Judging from the conversation Lilia and Jade happened to be having, Jade was a Merman of some kind and apparently Mermen were one of the 'safe species' for Humans to interact with. Though you knew not to judge an individual by the species, it did put you at ease to know he was one of the safer ones.
It was as you were taste testing the soup that the door to the kitchen once again flew open as another visitor invited themselves in. It was offical now, four times proved it was far too easy to get into your dorm through that door. Maybe Lilia would be able to fix it for you, or Malleus seeing as Lilia said it was the Dragon who had mostly fixed up your current abode.
"(Y/n), you're an absolute angel! I thought I was going to have to sleep in the woods once Riddle temporarily banned me from Heartslabuyl! He won't even let me sleep in the lake even though I'm a Lake Water Nymph because of what happened. You believe me when I say I didn't mean to put you in danger, right?"
Cater had thrown himself at your feet, holding onto your legs as if he were some abandoned pet seeking shelter from a blizzard. Around his neck was a thick metal collar that extended out to the sides in black and red colors, forming a heart-shape that locked in the front with a golden and black padlock. He was careful not to get in the fire that was dutifully cooking your soup even as he groveled at your feet.
"O-oi! What's the big idea with everyone coming in that door? It's dangerous to leave that thing unlocked."
"That's what I'm saying! So much for protected and safe with that thing in here."
You couldn't help but slightly grin at Grim as he voiced your own concerns out loud. Lilia simply regarded the door, snapping his fingers to close it as a large metal bolt affixed itself to the door before clicking into place.
"There. Now it can't be thrown open anymore. But why is Cater here? Cater, when did Riddle collar you and why?"
Cater seemed to realize there were others standing around you as he suddenly straightened up, clearing his throat and taking several steps back from you. He tried to play off the desperate display he had just shown and was failing miserably. Cater looked much worse for wear than you remembered him being and you genuinely began to hope the Unicorn hadn't actually harmed the ditzy redhead.
"Well... I may have 'accidentally' posted a picture that told everyone that (Y/n) was a Human and was on NRC grounds, but I totes didn't realize it would put her in danger! Honestly!"
Lilia's bemused smile almost instantly fell away into a glare as he regarded the man standing by your side. You added a bit of salt to the soup as you wated, watching the thick broth bubble and roil with vegtables and diced meat. There were a lot of things you could do in that moment, but something told you it was best to let Lilia handle this situation.
"And what did you think was going to happen, Cater?"
"Tbh, I thought that I would just get a follower count boost and everything would be fine. The Headmage and Riddle sure made it clear I was wrong for thinking that. Lessons learned!"
"It only cost us the safety of the last Human left in Twisted Wonderland."
"I said I was sorry!"
Everyone except Cater seemed to be exceptionally upset as they all glared at him, making him duck behind you as if you were the best shield from their rage. You just let the tall student try and fail to escape the ire of the others. For once, a polite knock came at the kitchen door, breaking off the aggressive staredown taking place.
"Hey, why are we here, Azul?"
An almost sing-song voice hummed from somewhere on the other side of the door, prompting Jade to walk over and open the door for who you assumed to be the two he was talking about. In strode a rather lovely looking man with snow-white hair and shining mauve blue eyes hidden behind thin framed glasses. Around his face were lovely and intricate black markings that reminded you quite a bit of the tentacles of an octopus. Behind him lumbered a rather tall man who almost looked identical to Jade if not for the swapped eye color and slight difference in height.
"We're here because Jade told me there is a profitable venture to be had and I am not going to miss out on this chance to make the Human's acquaintance, Floyd."
The shorter one hummed in a smooth voice and you almost giggled at the rather fact-of-the-matter tone that the white haired one spoke with. You felt it was safe to assume the rather lovely man was Azul and the near identical to Jade fish-man walking with him was Floyd.
Floyd almost made a show of sniffing the air, following his nose to where you stood in front of the pot of soup, watching him curiously. Once his gaze fell on you a wide grin overtook the slight frown he had been pouting with. You could see the way his eyes trailed over your figure due to the bright yellow of his right eye highlighting his pupil as it darted up and down.
"Ne ne, what is such a cute little Shrimpy doing this far above the water? You're so small I just want to squeeze ya."
He took a single step towards you and this seemed to be enough for the two- Silver and Sebek- to suddenly intercept him with swords drawn, creating an 'X' that blocked the tall Merman from approaching further. It was more than a little surprising to see weapons suddenly drawn, but maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised. Lilia did say he came over to guard you again and even brought the others for the same purpose.
"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt them, I just want a little feel on if Shrimpy is as soft as they look!"
"Floyd, that's enough. She was polite enough to allow me to invite you and Azul over and she is quite the rare specimen, you can't threaten her so casually and expect those guarding her to not be upset."
"I didn't threaten, I just said I wanted a big ol' squeeze."
"Same difference where you are concerned."
"Eh, you're so boring sometimes, Jade. Anyway, what is Shrimpy making over there? Smells good~!"
You were stunned at the almost aggressive behavior from Floyd given how calm and level headed Jade had been thus far. Maybe it was just a quirk of Floyd's to be a little more hands on than others. It honestly made you glad to know your self-appointed guards took their task seriously as they still refused to let the large Merman near you. Speaking of your guards, Floyd didn't seem put off by their aggression in the slightest and almost seemed amused by them as if it were all one big game.
Tension was thick in the air as the almost aloof Floyd smiled at you, watching you grab several bowls and begin ladling out ten total servings. You were not really all that surprised when there was still more soup to go even after you filled enough bowls for yourself and the ever increasing number of guests.
Maybe you were right to make so much after all. Hopefully your surprise guests had all shown-
"Why is the door locked? Hey, Human, I smell food in there! I already ate all the Dandelions from this morning! Can I have some of whatever you're making? Please? I'm starving out here."
Peaking through the windows to the kitchen was a familiar grizzled muzzle of the Gnoll you had met that morning. Ruggie was staring with those unsettling bright blue eyes and you were unsure if you wanted to laugh or scream. You scolded yourself in the back of your mind, remembering that animals would often return to places if they were given food prior and no doubt the Hyena man sought to do the same.
"Should I let him in, (Y/n)?"
Lilia asked, eyeing the lock on the door as Ruggie began to loudly whine and cackle for attention. You just sighed and nodded, knowing the Hyena wasn't going to leave now that he knew there was food ready and waiting just inside.
"May as well."
The Gnoll was quick to enter once the door opened and he happily grabbed one of the ten bowls, immediately scarfing down the soup without even glancing at the now large group of men standing in your kitchen. You didn't bother offering a spoon to Ruggie as it was clear he didn't need or want one. Despite the odd group that had gathered under your roof- technically it was the school's roof, but now wasn't the time for semantics- they all seemed keen to dig in when you passed out the bowls.
Getting yourself a bowl- seeing as Ruggie had taken one of the ten- you were able to finally take in the meal of your labors. It wasn't half bad and those button mushrooms added just the right earthy flavor that really brought the soup together. All of your visitors clearly liked the soup as well and Grim was the first to ask for seconds.
"Miss (Y/n)! This is a fantastic meal! I don't think I've had such flavors in anything I've eaten before! I would only think a meal from my liege could possibly taste better!"
"Sebek," the white haired one interrupted the shouting one, "you don't need to yell at her."
"I'm talking at an adequate volume, Silver. You dare say this meal isn't divine?"
"That's not what I said at all."
Lilia giggled as the two odd characters argued, hopping off the counter to serve himself another helping of the plentiful soup. Despite the absolute lack of respect for your personal space they all seemed to share, you couldn't help but smile as well. The many men you had met were odd and so unique in many ways but none of them actually seemed all that bad once they relaxed and got talking.
Maybe these monsters weren't as monstrous as you thought when you first met them. Hopefully their worries of poachers would just prove to be worries, but you knew you weren't truly safe yet and anyone could be a threat if they genuinely wanted to be. You just hoped there wasn't another shoe waiting to drop on your peaceful evening.
~•§•~
"Trey?"
"Yes, Riddle?"
"Invite (Y/n) to tomorrow's Unbirthday party. It has become rather clear to me that no one can look after her the way the Queen demands, so I will step up and take on that task."
"Riddle..."
"She will be safe with me, I will do whatever it takes to ensure it."
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halcyone-of-the-sea ¡ 2 years ago
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Main Masterlist || Navigation || All works are F!Reader || All images sourced from Pinterest ||
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SONGS THAT SOUND LIKE SEA-FOAM || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader
SYNOPSIS: In which a lone mermaid finds good company with a handsome fisherman who trespasses in her cove. But the word isn't what it used to be...hunting ships patrol the waters.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
FANART: “You’re somethin’ beautiful, y’know that?” & "Mermaid Interpretation" by @thedevillovesflowers
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2. RUN AWAY TO ME || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader
SYNOPSIS: The night started with wine and ended with blood. Racing through the woods after having escaped your wedding, you find a lone homestead in the middle of a rainstorm. Alone, wounded, and bordering on unconsciousness, you have no option but to knock.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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3. BLOOD-STAINED WOOL SPUN AT MIDNIGHT || 18 + Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Werewolf!Ghost x F!Tailor!Reader (Set in Van Helsing Era/Aesthetic)
SYNOPSIS: When you left the town in the year of our Lord, 1897, to buy more wool from the local farmer, the cobblestone streets had come up to meet the hooves of your neighbor's horse.
Along this trip of false hope, the open fields at your sides had led to the backdrop of a brimstone forest; an old shadow seems to loom there. A black thing. A devil with eyes like a burial mound. You were told to fear the Ghost of the Forest, but never had you known you'd be caught in his blackened claws.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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4. BLACK METAL AND BOURBON || 18+ Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Ghost x F!Bartender!Reader
SYNOPSIS: You've been in this small town for your entire existence, giving up dreams and aspirations to carry on life as a simple bartender despite your hatred of two things: the smell of cigarette smoke and the disrespect from regulars, namely, your ex and his buddies. But on a still-air Sunday, almost overnight, a mechanics shop pops up right across the street - giving sight to new faces and a fresh group of men with a love of motorcycles. One, in particular, seems to only like Bourbon.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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5. TO HUNT A SILVER STAG || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Knight!Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Fae!Princess!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Promised to a greedy king to try and preserve the magic of the land, a princess instead finds herself drawn to a chivalrous knight and his gentle words. But everyone knows magic has a mind of its own.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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6. HOW TO ADAPT TO FIRE || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader
SYNOPSIS: There is an arsonist in your city, and you're going to catch him. As one of the most prolific investigative journalists in the city, you make a lot of enemies the second your papers are released to the public. Your informant - and perhaps something more - in the local fire department makes a point to tell you to be careful.
But everyone knows he's right beside you when the fires start sparking.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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7. MOSS, BONE, AND A FALLING STAR || Mini-Series || Not Started
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PAIRING: Witch Hunter!Price x F!Witch!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Humans have not been kind to you, but they usually are to things that they don't understand. You're offered a deal when a rugged-looking Witch Hunter shows up at your secluded hut. Make him see you for what you truly are in three stories or less. You oblige and give him the limit - a story of moss, of bone, and of a falling star.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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8. VIVAMUS, MORIENDUM EST || Undetermined || Not Started
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PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader (Reincarnation AU)
SYNOPSIS: In every lifetime you made a promise to one another: even if you must die, you will find a way to live together for all of eternity, be that five or a hundred years from now. You'd not broken your promise yet.
CHAPTERS: Undetermined
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little-fae-hero ¡ 3 days ago
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Linked Universe, The Hero of Twilight.
My headcanons/aus
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Art by Atro Avis
Colored version
Long talk/ideas under the cut. Warning for canonical character death and slight body horror with force transformation (Note: may add stuff over time but will never delete from the list).
Time. Wind. Legend. Hyrule. Four. Sky. War. Wild.
Twilight (Twilight princess). Other Nicknames: The Rancher, Pup, The Farmer, Epona’s Favorite, Wolfie, Twi.
Titles: The Hero of Twilight, The Hero of Hyrule, The Blue Eyed Beast, First Divine beast, Husband of the Twilight Princess.
God who has claim over his Soul: Kishin (Fierce Deity) (Blood relation to Time and a vow of protection).
Part of First’s soul: Perseverance
Notes: History actually connects to Time, it plays with time, sleeping curses and a god of death and time.
Backstory before game:
Time and Malon grew up, having a family together, eventually Malon had a second child, a baby boy this time. Who she jokingly called Link Jr. (Time always said no and they would figure out another name). However as Ganondorf is captured, he uses the triforce of power to try and kill the bloodline that trapped him. Now during a war with an unknown nation and dark forces, Lon Lon farm is burned, Time comes back to Malon and Saria (their first child) missing, only the baby hidden in some burning rubble.
Time takes his son and begins to look for somewhere safe, yet he is always being chased, always being attacked. Eventually Time is forced to run into the lost woods, with his son in tow. Time is fighting monsters, caring for his son, now forced to feed him fae food otherwise he would starve. He grapples with leaving his son with a fairy, knowing he would be cursing him to a life as a kokiri.
Eventually when he’s backed into a corner (his son got sliced during one of the attacks), he makes a choice, he hides the baby in a small grotto. He lays a spell onto the baby, so that he will sleep and never age until someone who has a pure heart and could love him finds him. He begs the forest to protect his son, even trading his own protection, even begging the spirit in the FD mask to use what magic it can to look after the baby. Time buried the FD mask in the grotto, allowing the FD magic to protect his child, and hiding it from any of the dark spirits. All he leaves behind is the embroidered blanket the baby is wrapped in and the Kokiri emerald (as far as Twi knows). Time leaves the baby, promising to come back for him, he tells himself that everything he put is just a precaution as he doesn’t know how long he will be fighting.
Time fights, clearing more of the forest. However when he’s fatally impaled with a poisoned metal mix, the forest can’t heal him.
He dies in the forest, Oni tries to get him to pass on and Time tries to plead for more time, which is refused. Time refuses to move on, instead opting to become a ghost, his biggest regret is leaving his child alone, never seeing him wake.
Hundreds of years later, Uli is walking into the forest (chasing a spirit), stumbling onto a grotto where she finds a sleeping baby. Who wakes up and starts crying, she immediately picks him up, noticing the blanket, seeing the embroidery Link on it, she takes him back to the village.
History:
Link is a young teen living in the village of Ordon, adopted by Rusl when his wife found an abandoned baby in the woods. As the oldest of the children he often looks after and plays babysitter to the other village children. Rusl wants Link to deliver the newest sword to the castle town however this is put on hold when the children of the village are suddenly kidnapped by monsters.
Link goes after to save the children but ends up captured and transformed into a blue eyed wolf in a world of shadow and twilight. He is saved by an sassy imp by the name of Midna and agrees to help her get back pieces of a ‘fused shadow’ if she helps him find and save the kids of the village. They grow close over their adventure, when Midna is nearly killed, they grow even closer. Eventually he learns about the Twili, the mirror of Twilight, Midna being the the twilight princess and Ganondorf involvement. All this time he is looked after and trained by a golden wolf who calls himself the Hero’s Shade.
Eventually there is the final battle with Ganondorf, The Hero’s Shade appears to help get in a hit before the King of Evil is killed. The Hero’s Shade finally ‘vanishes’, saying he has found peace. Midna is freed from her imp form, finally free to be in her true form. Finally at peace Midna with the help of the others opens the mirror of twilight so she can reclaim her kingdom. However Midna breaks the mirror, promising it isn’t goodbye, that she will see them again, but for their safety, this is how it needs to be. Link is left alone, to go back to his life on the farm, sometimes going on adventures to find a way to see Midna again.
Death: Unknown….
Interest stuff/Headcanons.
Twi is very good about finding his way around the woods, to the point he’s the one the village sends if an animal runs off.
He’s adopted by Rusl and Uli, so he’s considered Collin’s older brother.
The reason he lives alone in the treehouse is he started to get bad nightmares as a teen that would wake the house, so he wanted to live alone.
Link knows he was found, and named after the embroidered on the cloth he was wrapped in.
He also has a long faded scar on his arm, Rusl says it was on him when they found him.
He also was found with a big emerald; Rusl and Uli never sold it, feeling that it belonged to Link.
Link was very protective of the gem when he was growing up, it was in his teens that the kids stole and shattered it.
Link lost it, screamed at the kids and refused to talk to them for about a week, it took Rusl getting him to the shop and talking to him.
Rusl was able to fashion the pieces into jewelry that Link never takes off.
He always got along with the animals in the village, easily taming a hawk that flew around the village.
Speaks in a heavy ‘southern accent’.
Midna had to keep him from adopting every cat they came across.
After transforming into a wolf for the first time, the marks stained Link’s face and hands, though everyone just assumed he got tattoos during his adventure.
His eyesight got a lot better after he transformed. This also causes his eyes to glow in the dark. His teeth have also gotten sharper as well.
After the first lesson with the Hero’s Shade, once he comes back, he immediately starts crying, he has no idea why.
His shadow got darker because of Midna’s magic, it always looks like an abyss you could fall into.
Any natural magic Twi had was stained after his adventure now reading more like Twili magic then his own.
It also stains his nails a black color.
Twi grew very close to Midna during his adventure, nearly breaking when she almost died.
He has a scar on his left wrist, from where the shackle was as a wolf.
Midna, Twi and Princess Zelda are all married by Twili standards. A natural bond formed with all of them during their adventure.
Midna promises she would see them again even after breaking the mirror, so Twi does look for ways to see her again.
He also looks for tales about who his birth family might have been, they loved him enough to embroidered his name on a blanket and leave him that gem.
Twi is eventually taken in by a goddess and is offered the chance to help a lost hero, this turns out to be Wild.
When he meets the group, Twi immediately realizes Time is the Hero’s Shade. He knows the Hero’s Shade has a blood relation to him but that’s it. But the armor and voice are what clues Twi in that Time is the hero’s Shade.
Twi assumes Time is an ancestor, Time also realizes he must have a connection to Twi as despite the dark magic, there is the hint of kokiri magic buried deep within him.
Twilight immediately becomes the other go to leader besides Time and War, acting more like Time’s right hand man.
Everyone likes to tease Twi considering how much he looks like and acts like Time.
Twilight looks after Epona and cares for the mare deeply, often checking her over to make sure an arrow didn’t hit her.
He’s a decent cook if he has a recipe to follow.
He knows a lot of secrets because of his time as Wolfie, most don’t know and will happily spill their troubles to the fluffy beast that seems to care for them.
Twilight is a great hunter and tracker.
Twi hums.
Twilight loves animals and animals seem to love him. Cats come and cuddle, dogs love to come and get scratches.
Twilight is the owner of Wild’s survival instincts apparently.
Twi actually prefers bloody meat, nearly raw, as his favorite food. He hates it as it’s a side effect of his wolf transformation.
Twilight is trying to figure out how to prevent Time’s death which would turn him into the Hero’s Shade.
——
Are ya crying yet? 🙃
Let me know your thoughts!
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dutiful-wildcraft ¡ 1 year ago
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Pack 141 - Werewolf!Price Headcanons
Tags: monster au, sfw, werewolf!price, mentions of gore and body horror, loose a/b/o dynamics, possessiveness, scent marking, fluff, werewolf lore sprinkled with pack 141 interactions
-A born lycan. The shift was as natural as breathing. And he quickly showed the temperment of an alpha.
-Shifts to the outsider can appear gruesome. As the wolf quite literally emerges from within, human flesh falling away like a gristly chrysalis to reveal the beast beneath. Traditionally, this shed flesh would be devoured, though it isn't commonly practiced today. The flesh disintegrates quite quickly once shed.
-This being said Price can shift in degrees, often enhancing his own claws or teeth for defensive purposes rather than shift completely. 
-No, the clothes do not magically pop back on once he's done. Shifting completely is inconvenient and typically a last resort. It's difficult to strip in the middle of a fire fight, let alone find his tac bag stark naked after it's all said and done.
-For born wolves, this shift is generally smooth and quick. For those bitten, it is this first shift that often leads to their death. Around 75% of those bitten do not have the bodily fortitude to withstand the change.
-as a born wolf, Price's enhanced senses are also perfectly integrated, and require no sensory aids for him to navigate his daily life unlike the majority of bitten wolves.
-born wolves have a tendency to remain in seclusion, within the safety and comfort of their pack. When a new alpha is born they typically either stay to take over leadership, or stake out a new territory to build their own pack.
-John was quickly ostracized when he showed little interest in either of those things. He seemed to be far more preoccupied with exploring both the world and his own strength. The military amongst the humans would do quite nicely.
-During his tours there would be fleeting encounters with other monsters, typically enemies. But a few comrades as well. Such as Nikolai, a bear shifter. The pair of lycans got along beautifully.
-Now, despite his former pack's opinions of him, John had never explicitly said he didn't want a pack, just not their version of a pack. No. John had a different idea in mind.
-Simon was the first. A strong and brutal human, who had shown an endearing gentleness in certain circumstances. Price had decided immediately that Simon would belong to him. He just needed some final paper work to build his pack task force. He had even settled on changing Simon himself, despite the risks. A bloody vampire had beaten him to it. Price was hardly angry that Simon's humanity was taken from him, just that Simon had to suffer in such a way to get there. At least Price had the pleasure of siring the newborn himself.
-Next had been Soap. A wiley thing with a blatant disregard for orders and big blue eyes that were far too pretty to be all human. Price couldn't decide if he should scruff or praise him for his cheek. But Soap had an excellent knack for mixing things that should absolutely not work, into something that would cave a warehouse in seconds. Along with a distinct aversion to touching certain metals with his bare hands. His peculiarities had earned him a nickname, and also given him away as a Fae. Price would have him too.
-Garrick followed not long after. Sharp and driven Gaz. Incredibly clever with a proud determination that blazed behind those warm brown eyes. Gaz's skills made his inner wolf purr in delight.  Another lovely thing for him to keep. Price was taken with him immediately, and had never felt more at ease than with the sergeant he had stolen in Piccadilly. 
-While he could tell from Kyle's scent that he was something Other. Price would only receive cryptic answers or riddles that only made the younger sergeant chuckle as Price failed to guess correctly. (Price would totally not make up excessively silly answers to see the sergeants pretty smile, oh no).
-It wouldn't be until they were stranded in an excessively hot desert that Gaz would reveal himself. Price had emerged from their tent to see Garrick, posted up like it was summer vacation, with a brilliant golden wing curled over his head to shade him from the sun. A long tufted tail flickering back and forth out of a small cut in his fatigues. Gaz had looked up from his book, golden slitted eyes peering over his aviators. Flashed him a toothy grin. “Wanna make another guess Cap?”
-Price has a vicious possessive streak, and he plays it incredibly carefully in the beginning of the task force. He watches his vocabulary when talking about the “team.” His pack. Perfect, strong and beautiful. All of them. Chosen carefully.  He was careful not to spook them at first, worried his possessive language would put them off.  But they are, for all intents and purposes, his.
-His possessiveness had manifested subtly at first. Scent marking them. Brushing shoulders or gentle touches as he passed them. He would even resort to smoking beside them if touching seemed out of the question. At least his smoke would soak into their clothes and hair.
-As they fell together it became less subtle. Price couldn't resist sinking his teeth into their flesh as they writhed beneath him. Suck bruises along whatever flesh he could get his mouth on. It was a pro and a con that his boys all healed so well. While his marks did not remain for long, it meant he could only mark them up sooner. 
-He loves that their scents all intermingle, really. But he can be stubbornly adamant that his scent is the most notable. Often catching Soap or Gaz to tug into his office, kissing the breath out of them, only to curtly send them back out, freshly scented and a bit dazed. It's a fair compromise considering Simon often hogs the sergeants to himself.
-Simon often seeks him out of his own volition. Coming to his office to sit quietly, work on his own reports and bask in Price's scent of spilled ink and warm honey. Or sneaking to his room in the night. Slipping off the mask to bury his nose against his throat. No biting. Just breathing. His scent a balm to the younger vampires frayed nerves. 
-Price takes an immense amount of pride in caring for his pack, and takes his job seriously in protecting and providing. Gets immensely distraught when one of his mates is hurting. Knowing no limits in showering them in comfort items and love. 
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sapphicslaylist ¡ 2 months ago
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Realizing This Crossover Never Made It To The Borrower Tag [+ Lore Drop]
So I'm a goof and forgot to post my Slay The Princess AU into the Borrower tags as well so haha. Lemme fix that -
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Main Post & Fic Here
Story & designs by me,
art commissioned from @feraljayce
(I prefer reblogs on this one!)
Further Worldbuilding stuff - Translation of STP into Borrower format
For those curious about the GT front of things so it's not just a repost, getting into those details here:
There are four types of Borrower species within this world: Traditional Domestic, Traditional Wild, Domestic Fae, & Wild Fae
Domestic Borrowers:
House-Dwelling Borrowers who live in the walls/under floorboards
"Borrow" household goods & lost objects to survive
Often use artificial tools to climb and navigate.
May live in groups, but many are singular family units or alone
Are traditionally considered "pests" and forced out of homes
These are closest to Mary Norton's / cannon Borrower taxonomy
Domestic Fae follow many of the same tenants as Traditional Domestic. Differences being:
Possession of artificial magic (conjuring manmade objects, cooking, metal etc)
Elven/spaded ear tips, but no tail
Are the only Borrower species considered "good luck"
Often captured to be sold as pets or other companionship to humans
Wild Borrowers:
Prefer living out in the woods to gather natural resources away from humans.
Use artificial tools to hunt & gather. Often live in groups if able.
May opportunistically packbond with local fauna
Live in abandoned burrows primarily, but will also take hollows, nests, and most other shelters if available.
Do possess unusual humanoid traits except for slightly sharper teeth & nails designed for climbing.
Wild Fae:
The most feral of Borrower species, and the most mistreated by humanity
Direct association with The Wild (goddess of the natural cycle) & The Network (the Wild's domain & the Fae/Borrowers' Underworld)
Possess Elven/spaded ears and a variety of different tails based on genetics (Ex: Thorn & Witch are of Feline roots)
Often have more "feral" facial features like different noses, slit pupils, etc which are either permanent or alternate with more human apperance (ex: Thorn)
Also use tools like weapons & gear, but sparingly/as a backup. Their teeth & clawed hands usually do most of the work of fighting & climbing
Live in small colonies in underground burrows, where each member has a specific chamber. Similar to a Warren. You'll rarely see them alone
Some have digitigrade legs to walk upright & all fours with ease (dominant trait)
Magic is naturally derived, and takes the form of Medic or Mercenary. Medics have to "charge" their magic by doing a two finger pulse check to summon necessary materials for the patient.
Wild Fae do not Borrow - they hunt & aggressively scavenge objects. They work in packs, which may include Chimeras (their designated packbond species) if going for larger or riskier prey.
All Fae worldbuilding stuff is my own; Wild Borrowers are semi-cannon, and domestic variations are cannonical to Mary Norton. The Wild Fae are semi-inspired by The Littles, which are typically what fanmade Borrowers most resemble.
(Yes, I happily accept questions about this AU! As a warning it does get a bit dark in places, but happy to discuss both the nitty gritty and the soft cuddly stuff.)
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fav-fanfics ¡ 1 month ago
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After Viktor goes missing, Jayce takes matters into his own hands, then accidentally gets himself imprisoned right alongside his partner.
Or, the fae-au.
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bunny-dr34ms ¡ 7 months ago
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the love fate demands of us - prologue
- mystical!txt x angel!reader
summary. flora was the land of magic, where fantasy thrived. now, in the hands of humans, it has become a land where the enchanted had to hide in shadows in order to survive. you, neither human or angel, an abomination to both, knows better than anyone how cruel this world can be. fate has failed you time and time again but when she leads you deeper into flora, you'll find that your hardships are shared by others. will you and your new companions be able to restore what has been oppressed in flora? more importantly, will you be able to find the love fate demands of?
cw/ tw; f!reader, fae!yeonjun, vampire!soobin, werewolf!beomgyu, wizard!taehyun, elf!kai, fantasy au, royalty au
features; txt, names of other idols that i decide as i go
wc; 1.8k
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Prologue: Flora: The land of magic
Flora, the land of magic and all things fantastical. There was truly nothing like it. From the mystical forests to the flourishing river channels, from the tiniest twinkling pixies to magnificent beasts, Flora was a land of legends. Creatures of all and every kind roamed freely, building little communities and towns of their own. Whole civilizations existed but no matter how they continued to advance, the peace was never disturbed, they were all Florians after all, united under their nation. Truly, there was nowhere else promising more beauty and adventure.
And then the humans arrived.
Nothing could've prepared Flora for humans. No seer, omen, or prophecy could've prepared Flora for the shattering ruination that would come with humans. Albeit there was no early premonition that they were even coming at all but a place like Flora would've welcomed them anyway.
Welcome she did.
When the first group passed through the fog, they spent weeks wandering and building camps in the forests, dryads and nymphs passing word that something new has entered Flora. A new kind of people for the first time in almost 1000 years, the most recent being the first group of leprechauns that came along(they were quickly found out to just be odd fairies) The humans wandered and wandered, lost in Flora’s great forests until one day they stumbled upon a little town of dwarves. The dwarf king of that town graciously let them in, already catching wind of the new friends that have been lost for weeks. Dwarves were stubborn, prideful people who really only acknowledged other by their work but humans were equally crafty with their shiny metal armors. Just like that, the dwarves and the humans became good friends and even better partners.
Now, if it wasn't for greed.
If it wasn't for the human's greed for more--more power, more riches, more land. If it wasn't for the thirst that they had to conquer, maybe...no, Flora definitely wouldn't be what it is today.
In just a month's time, hundreds, thousands of humans started entering the forest. All of them flooding Flora's forests from all sides, clambering up into the mountains, into plains, anywhere that had land for them to take. Still, without question where all of them came from, Flora took them in with open arms. The interactions the dwarves had made the other groups believe that humans were similar to the already residing citizens of Flora. Kind, generous, humans were just another race of goodhearted people joining Flora, right?
Oh, how wrong they were.
The first 5 years of humans just inhabiting Flora were the most destructive years that this land has ever faced. Not even the Great Forest War could compared to the monstrous crimes committed by the humans. Forests were torn down and burned within just weeks. There were houses being built everywhere the eye could see in almost every meadow. Mountains were chipped away until wide paths ran up and down the sides from bottom to top. All water sources became awfully contaminated or redirected into their new little residential areas. The entire landscape of Flora changed in those 5 years.
That was just the landscape; the creatures of Flora suffered far, far worse.
The population of the forest animals cut down by half, unicorns, jackalope, and even dragons alike. Humans had no sympathy for those who couldn't talk to them it seemed. The elves were wearing of these newcomers but reluctantly allowed them in their kingdoms after hearing praises from the dwarves. What a mistake that proved to be because soon the humans began to chase them out of their very homes. Elves were always more closed off in all aspects of their cultures. History books of elven society hardly had any of their spells, traditions, or magic. Humans didn't like that and took it all by brute force instead, fire seeming to be their favorite to burn down whole communities. After the elves, news began to spread about these humans once again. This time about how they were tyrannical, heartless monsters that killed with no remorse.
From nymphs to mermaids, centaurs to witches, fairies to vampires, they were all slaughtered at the hand of insatiable humans. After all, Florians didn't know what to do at the face of cold massacres. They've been living in tranquility for eons and eons. The Great Race War was recorded in history to be at the very start of time, when Flora just a clearing of trees. Just the sight of humans with weapons in their hands were enough to send all life forms running and hiding. In the last 3 years, the entire population of Flora, apart from the dwarves, was once again halved.
Then came the Human Flora War.
After 5 years of taking the cruelty of humans, all the fantastical beings decided enough was enough. They were done with letting the humans take what they want. Another 5 years were spent planning, preparing, training for this battle. Florians knew that humans were a tough opponent, having seen their brutality first hand. And prepared they were. It was thousands upon thousands of mystical beings that had magic and power coursing through their veins, victory was essentially guaranteed. On the battlefield, it was clear who was going to win, the humans with their flimsy iron tools stood no chance against the mages. Fire no longer scared the water nymphs, werewolves and vampires haunted their bases at night, picking them off like flies. Yes, victory was in sight.
The humans were enraged, they've never lost so pitifully before it seems. So they had to play their dirty tricks once more. They turned to the only race that they treated as equals: the dwarves. It was already bad enough that some dwarf towns didn't participate because they believed that humans weren't all bad. The humans made a deal to the dwarves. They promised that in return for the dwarves to join their side, they would provide them all with riches for the rest of their lives. Dwarves were never wealthy, not like vampires or elves, so this prospect made them eager. They were convinced when the humans apparently brought a ship that was filled to the brim with golds and gems that the dwarves have never seen before. The humans somehow constantly replenished their man power and with the betrayal of the dwarves, which were at full force, already having years and years of weaponry stored up and being spared the humans' wrath, Flora ended up losing.
The next 10 years was spent by the humans raising their own cities and kingdoms. In the utmost center of Flora was the main kingdom called Roseria, where the Esor Forest, the largest forest in Flora, originally was. Now there were only a few acres of it left surrounding the kingdom. There were neighboring kingdoms too. Magnia towards the mountains and Asteria near the oceans. Here and there were little human towns with some being mixed in with dwarves. At this point of time, the human population alone was enough to equal almost all the magical beings and creatures.
Flora, ever wondrous and ever adapting, was still able to heal after all it went through.
All the flora and fauna found its way to thrive again, growing back lush and healthy. The were only two major changes. One of them was the new hierarchy in place, where humans stood at the very top. Every one, every thing else had to obey, otherwise they'd face severe punishments. Ears would be clipped, wings were cut, anything that set one apart from humans would be eliminated with so much as a word out of line.
The second change, was a decree made by humans, banning all magic.
Humans were not as intelligent as they say they are. Trying to make home in a land of magic just to ban it, which is impossible by the way, was like stepping outside and banning the sun from ever shining because it was too hot. They always hated magic anyway, hated how those who could wield it made them so much more powerful and just better in every way. Magical beings are naturally more beautiful, more alluring. Humans couldn't accept that with their own greed to be the best. Really, they were just scared of how strong and otherworldly magic was. Still, even with this nonsense ban, creatures of their own environments worked hard to nurture Flora, allowing it to continue prospering under human rule.
So that's where Flora is as of now. Still the land of magic and all things fantastical despite the green-hearted humans' intervention. In spite of this, odd and new definition of peace, there is always something new and unheard of that could happen here. The Kingdom of Esor, ruled by the Hwang Dynasty's 3rd generation, is about to recieve their first princess. This princess is going to be the result of not only infidelity, but also a child of a human and an angel. Interracial families were inevitable, no amount of hate or disgust for the other race could've prevented love from getting in the mix. Not every human was evil and not every mystical Florian held grudges against them. Though the marriage between them was made legal, they were still shunned by society, from both sides. Forgiveness was hard to earn and forgetting was essentially impossible with all the recorded history of the crimes committed by humans. How terribly unfortunate.
Anyways, back to our princess.
She will be the first hybrid royal to ever exist. In a year, we will get to see how she fares in this magical world. In a year she will be born to the royal family and in a year, after 200 years of peace with the humans, Flora's tranquility shall be once more disrupted.
Simultaneously, deep in the forest, a brutal path of betrayal awaits 5 individuals. A misunderstood vampire who wanted nothing more than to protect his own. An exploited fae who longed to experience what love was for himself. A forsaken werewolf who was sacrificed by his own blood. An incriminated wizard who dreamt of helping those in need with his talent. A ridiculed elf who wanted to use his powers for good.
Fate was unkind to you and them, forcing all of you to fend for yourselves in a fight where the world has turned their backs on you. Will the red string weaving through your heart help you find your soulmates? When push comes to pull, will they stand next to you? Come, as Flora awaits its saviors, the suppressed magic straining against its chains, let us discover what fate has in store for us.
Let us face together, the love fate demands of us.
author note: posting after who knows how long.. i really enjoy the concept of world building as hard as it is so i decided to give it a shot! i haven't had a chance to proof read this yet so please forgive whatever blemishes there are, i'll fix it as soon as i can! should i make a masterlist for this, i've never made one before but im willing to try >< chapter 1 is already in the making but i wanted to post this to see how we feel about it. i can't wait to release the next chapter !!!! let me know what you think !! all reposts, likes, and shares are appreciated! my inbox is open!
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stevieharringtonwifeguy ¡ 2 years ago
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i keep thinking about my changeling steve au that i posted about here like. What About His Parents
this ended up so long i put it on ao3 too, you can read it here
like steves known he’s a changeling for a few months now, and in that time his parents still haven’t come home. he hasn’t really thought about it, except during his weekly scheduled 3am identity crisis. eddie’s told him that based on what he knows about changelings (just from old stories and things, neither he nor wayne have ever actually met one, which makes him kind of useless as a guru but like. points for trying), their human parents usually have a human baby that gets replaced and they don’t notice until the kid grows up Wrong. honestly, it figures that his parents just never got around to noticing.
at least that’s what he thinks. but one day, he’s walking past his dad’s office, struggling to carry a huge pile of laundry bc he put it off too long and ended up having to wash like literally every piece of clothing he owns. and a tshirt slips right as he passes the door. he reaches out for it on instinct, brushes his hand against the handle, and it hurts. hurts so bad he drops his laundry, instinctively drawing his hand in to cradle the pain. did he overestimate his strength again? he’s been doing that a lot lately, kind of embarrassing to break his hand or something punching a doorknob by accident. but then he looks at his hand, and he doesn’t have the kind of mark he’d expect from just whacking it really hard. it’s red and shiny, like a burn in the exact shape of the doorknob
it’s an iron burn. none of the other knobs in the house are iron.
honestly of all the restrictions placed on him now that he’s become Fully Fae, he thought the iron sensitivity would come up more often. turns out not much is made of iron anymore. all the other doorknobs he’s touched have been aluminum or brass or something. so far the whole ‘needing to be invited in to places’ has been way more annoying. the kids don’t know about the whole fae thing yet and also have no manners, so he’s been doing a lot of loitering outside their open doors until their parents notice and politely invite him in.
he looks at the doorknob again. it doesn’t look like iron. it looks like all the other knobs in the house, sort of light and shiny. he brings his hand near it again, and he can feel the heat coming off it before his skin even touches the metal.
he’s not allowed in his dad’s office. it’s one of the few rules his parents ever enforced, his dad glaring at him if steve happened to be in the hall when he opened the door, like he thought steve would try to make a run into the room in the three seconds of open door time he was given. steve could take a hint, even as a kid.
now though, there’s something prickling at the base of his skull, that new sense he has for something being wrong screaming at him that it’s certainly odd that the one room in the house that he’s not allowed to enter is also the one room in the house with a door he can’t physically touch.
he does what any reasonable fairy would do. abandons his gigantic pile of laundry on the floor and runs downstairs to call a witch.
eddie shows up about five minutes earlier than he reasonably should have, which probably wasn’t magic but instead him fucking flooring it the entire way to steve’s house. he’s got a big messenger bag over his shoulder, and he pulls a smaller bag out of it and displays the bunch of weird bent pins inside with a conspiratorial eyebrow wiggle
‘i have literally always been looking for an excuse to use these. you’re my hero, stevie.’
steve snorts and leads eddie upstairs. the witch kindly doesn’t mention the laundry strewn all over the hallway, just kicks a pair of (clean!!!!) boxers out of the way and kneels down in front of the door, inspecting the knob closely.
‘it doesn’t look like iron.’
‘tell that to my hand, man. i spent the entire time you were driving over here running my hand under cold water and it still fucking hurts.’
eddie hums, absentmindedly grabbing steve’s hand as he continues to squint at the knob. he runs his thumb over the burn mark and the pain is instantly gone.
steve looks at his hand. it’s totally fine, no mark at all. ‘thanks,’ he says, and eddie shoots him a little smile over his shoulder before turning back to the door.
‘no magic on it,’ he mutters. he brings a nail up and scratches lightly at the knob. the silver of it flakes a little, exposing something darker underneath. it’s painted. iron painted to look like the aluminum of the other knobs in the house. steve and eddie exchange frowns.
eddie quickly grabs his picks, shoves them into the lock and wiggling them around for a bit. like a while. steve’s about to tease him for his apparent lack in any actual criminal ability when something clicks, and eddie turns the door handle with a whoop. the door swings open, and eddie sniffs for a minute, like alarm magic has a scent component or something, before shrugging and rushing in.
and steve goes to follow. well, he tries. when he lifts his foot to cross the threshold of the room, something physically stops him. it’s like a strong wind is coming out of the room, blowing back his leg anytime it gets too close. eddie looks back at him in confusion, before his eyes land on something on the doorjamb and his face falls into something cold. steve follows his line of sight and his heart stops for a second.
there’s a small horseshoe nailed to the doorjamb.
until now, steve realises he’d been hoping there was a reasonable explanation for the iron handle. maybe when they were building the house the store ran out of aluminum ones so his dad just got an iron one because it looked the most similar, something like that. but there’s no reason for the horseshoe. no reason except that someone wanted to keep fae out of this room. which means whoever put it there knew fae entering this room was a risk.
his parents fucking knew what he was. they just never said or did anything about it. nothing except block off this room.
eddie shifts a little in the middle of the room. ‘steve?’ he asks. his voice is soft, hesitant, like he’s trying not to spook a wild animal. ‘are you okay?’
steve wrenches his eyes away from the horseshoe, focusses on his feet. when he catches a glimpse of his clenched fists by his hips, he realises he’s glowing again, sparks dancing up and down his veins and lighting him up from the inside like a human lava lamp. well, not so human. that’s the problem.
he takes a deep breath to get his magic under control before he accidentally lights something on fire. looks up to eddie, still standing in the middle of the office like he doesn’t know what to do. ‘he’s hiding something in here. find it.’
part of steve, the human part, feels bad for ordering his friend around like that. but eddie just nods with determination, rooting around in his bag for something.
‘i’m not sensing any secrecy charms or alarms or anything in here, which means i can use...’ he takes a travel mug out of the bag and brandishes it with a flourish. ‘this!’
steve snorts. ‘a cup of coffee?’
eddie rolls his eyes, shaking the mug for a second and then opening it to check on the contents. ‘it’s a brewed spell. it shows hidden things.’
‘and you put it in a travel mug?’
‘oh i’m sorry, i was running a little low on fuckin’. crystal flasks. what the hell else was i supposed to put it in?’
‘i just thought with your whole... satanist metalhead deal you’d be a little more dedicated to the witchy aesthetic.’
eddie huffs, grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like i’ll show you witchy aesthetic, before upending the travel mug onto the floor.
what comes out isn’t really liquid, more like the soupy fog that comes out of a fog machine, except it’s a pleasant sage green colour. the fog quickly covers the whole room, before seeming to pool in two areas: one under the desk and another over the little throw rug in the middle of the room.
‘okay, we got two hidden things, which one are we checking out first?’
steve considers. ‘the desk one is probably just boring shit. pictures of his mistress, or, i dunno, evidence of tax fraud or something. try the rug.’
eddie nods decisively, throwing back the rug and inspecting the wooden floorboards until he finds one that seems a little loose. he pulls it back with a bit of a grunt, and immediately sticks his hand down there and starts rummaging around like he wouldn’t start screaming bloody murder the second a spider touched his hand. after a moment, he makes a triumphant sound, and pulls out a book.
it looks old, maybe a hundred years or so, and steve has the fleeting thought that if nancy found out his dad had been keeping a fragile antique book under the floorboards, she’d probably rip him that new one she’s been threatening since steve brought her to a family dinner and his dad called her ‘lower middle class’ like it was a bad thing.
‘it’s a grimoire,’ eddie says, sitting cross-legged on the floor and gently opening the book. at steve’s confused silence, he adds, ‘a spellbook. sort of. looks like this one isn’t a witch’s grimoire, it’s mostly human magic, judging by the table of contents.’
‘i thought regular humans couldn’t do magic.’
‘they can’t do like, spells. but there’s little stuff, especially when it comes to dealing with other creatures. like, uh,’ a pained look crosses his face as he inclines his head to the horseshoe still denying steve entry. ‘the horseshoe. technically magic. if they’d just hung it for like, decoration, it wouldn’t keep you out. there’s gotta be intent behind it.’
steve huffs, glaring at the horseshoe. ‘so what, they figured out i was a changeling and they got a whole book to figure out how to herd me like a sheep?’
eddie winces at steve’s tone, but hey, who can blame him. this is a lot. ‘maybe. there’s a lot of stuff about fae in here. descriptions of types, etiquette stuff, protections- oh shit.’
steve snaps his head back to eddie, who’s currently staring at the book like a spider’s just crawled out of the binding. then he seems to gather himself, muttering furiously under his breath as he flips through the pages, no more care shown for the book’s antiquity. ‘what is it?’
eddie settles on a page towards the back of the book, reading through with a furious look on his face. he gets up, walks over to steve still standing helplessly in the doorway, and thrusts the book towards him. steve looks down.
the words are a little hard to read, handwritten with spidery loops and the ink a little faded, but steve eventually gets the gist.
it’s instructions for summoning a changeling child.
steve, stupid, forgiving steve, thinks for a moment that this isn’t so bad. maybe his parents couldn’t have biological kids or something and this seemed like their only option. weird to not just adopt a human child, but whatever. and then he reads the paragraph extolling the virtues of having a changeling in the house- how they bring good luck, how they have a nose for finding treasures, and he realises no. his parents never wanted a kid (like he didn’t already know that), they wanted a superpowered pet. the final nail in the coffin is when he reads that the summoning process involves a human child, too. they’d had their own kid at one point, biologically or adopted, and they’d traded them in for a newer, more exciting model probably without a second thought.
and then they’d abandoned the newer model too.
steve barely even realises when he sets the book on fire, the glow that’s been simmering under his skin since he first saw the horseshoe spilling out from his fingertips in a shower of sparks. eddie doesn’t even really react, just calmly bats the flaming book out of steve’s hands and uses one of the sweaters littering the ground to smother the fire. he doesn’t mention the way the lights are flickering, pulsing light so strongly they’re in danger of blowing out. just softly wraps his arms around steve’s torso, murmuring gentle words into the crook of his neck as he strokes his hair.
the first tears that fall from steve’s eyes dissolve into harmless sparks of light against eddie’s shoulder. eddie doesn’t seem to mind, just keeps stroking steve’s hair as he whispers that it’s okay, eddie’s there, eddie’s got him.
steve doesn’t know how long they stand there like that. when he pulls back to wipe his eyes, his light-tears are still hanging in the air around them like an asteroid belt made of hundreds of little still fireflies. eddie pokes one. it glows brighter.
rubbing his face, steve sighs, waves the lights away with a motion of his hand. eddie looks put out for a second, before catching the determined look in steve’s eye and watching him warily.
‘what are you going to do?’ he asks, a little apprehensively.
‘i’m going to call my dad,’ steve replies, stalking off towards the stairs before eddie can even get out a strangled ‘okay?’
steve’s already punched in the number for his dad’s office by the time eddie catches up. his secretary picks up, asks who’s calling, and steve musters all the charm he can to try and convince her to put him through. she usually doesn’t, apologetically explains that his dad’s in a meeting, or out of the office, or swamped with work, or a hundred other excuses, but that she’ll tell him steve called and he’ll get back to him as soon as possible. he never does. steve’s not sure if she knows that; the guilt in her voice could just as easily be because she’s sleeping with him and feels bad for ruining their ‘perfect family’.
either way, steve’s not taking chances. he’s never tried to magically charm someone over the phone before, doesn’t even do it much in person either, it feels skeevy (although he has gotten out of a suspicious amount of detentions, even before he fully came into his magic. whoops.). but wouldn’t you know, this time she says he’s called at the perfect time, his dad’s just got out of a meeting and she’s sure he’d be thrilled to hear from his loving son. steve has to physically bite back a cutting remark as she puts him through.
for all his rage, steve doesn’t really remember much of this conversation. he talks like he’s in a fugue state, his brain packing everything away into some dark corner of his mind the second after it’s said, focussing instead on the way eddie’s face gets steadily more distressed where he can see it out of the corner of his eye.
he knows he asks his dad to come home so they can talk about something important. he knows his dad scoffs, tells him he can’t possibly come home right now and steve can’t possibly have anything to say that’s so important he can’t say it over the phone. knows he tells his dad he found the book under the floorboards. knows the silence on the other end of the phone is so loud it’s deafening.
the rest of it is fuzzy. honestly, it probably goes exactly how he expected it was going to go. there’s some yelling, some accusations, his dad calls him a disappointment once or ten times. and at the end of it his dad tells him if he’s going to be so ungrateful he can pack his bags and get out of the house the real harringtons are paying for.
eddie hangs up the phone for him when he hears that. hard not to hear it, the way harrington sr. is screaming through the phoneline. if steve tried hard enough, he could probably still hear him yelling all the way from indianapolis, and he probably wouldn’t even need to use magic.
they stand in silence for a moment. steve staring at the phone, eddie staring at steve. and then steve feels an itch under his skin.
he’s no longer welcome in this house.
he’s got a couple minutes before the nausea sets in, probably, so he books it upstairs to fit as much of his shit in his sports bag as he can fit. it’s mainly clothes. god knows he doesn’t give a shit about any of the things his parents- no, mr. and mrs. harrington- picked out for his perfect boy’s room. there’s the walkie, a couple gifts from the kids. that’s it.
and then he’s out, stumbling a little over the threshold when the magic finally locks in and physically boots him from the house. eddie’s following behind, frantically grabbing his bag and his jacket as he shouts for steve’s attention.
‘what, you’re just gonna leave? immediately? you can take more time to get your stuff-’
‘no,’ steve says, the word ripping itself from his throat, short and harsh. ‘‘no i can’t actually. don’t have an invitation.’
and isn’t that look on eddie’s face heartbreaking. steve doesn’t want to cry out here- it’s a little early for firefly season and the lights would get too much attention. so he throws his bags in the backseat of the beamer, gets in the driver’s seat, and just. sits for a second.
eddie gets in next to him, gives him a gentle look. ‘are you alright?’
steve snorts, giving eddie a side-eye.
‘yeah, okay, fair,’ eddie replies with a weak huff of a laugh. ‘you got a plan?’
shit. no he didn’t, actually. ‘i mean, worst comes to worst, i guess i could sleep in a tree? i just figured out how to get in one, pretty good timing, huh?’
eddie looks at him like he’s grown a second head. not impossible, but steve thinks he’d notice. ‘sleep in a tree? what the hell does that mean?’
steve shrugs. ‘like, just climb inside. it’s kinda like putting on a jacket, really, but like. 360 degrees. could probably only do that to sleep, though, i haven’t really figured out how to not like, become the tree. And trees don’t really do anything, so it just makes me sleepy.’
eddie continues to stare at him a second before he shakes his head dramatically, like a dog getting out of a bath. steve huffs a laugh despite himself. ‘whatever, don’t sleep in a tree man, that’s crazy. you can stay at mine, if you want.’
‘what?’
eddie shrugs. ‘i mean, it’s no 360 degree jacket, but it’s nice. lots of amenities that trees don’t offer: shower, stove, tv, et cetera.’
‘that’s-’ that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered him. eddie’s looked out for him since he came into his magic, and they’re friends, yeah, but this is... so much. he’s been to eddie’s place, knows he doesn’t have a lot of space, but he’s still offering to share it with steve, so easily it’s like it’s not even a question whether he’s welcome. steve can’t accept. ‘what about wayne?’
eddie just snorts. ‘dude, excepting, like, me being his nephew/adopted son whom he loves dearly, he likes you like. way better than me. you’re the little sports son he never had. frankly if he found out you’d been kicked out and i didn’t offer to give you a place to stay he’d probably kick me out. well, no he wouldn’t. but he would give me that ‘im not mad im just disappointed’ look and that sucks too.’
‘you’d do that?’ and steve hates how small his voice sounds right now. he’s had a day.
but eddie just looks at him with those big, gentle eyes of his. says ‘of course’ like there’s no other response he could give. so steve smiles. thanks him softly, and drives them to the munson trailer. neither of them mention the firefly-tears that fill the car like fairy lights strung from the ceiling.
and they get to the trailer. eddie offers steve his bed, and they argue good-naturedly about it until they both give up and settle in together, eddie petting steve’s hair as they cuddle in a way that’s probably not all that platonic, but neither of them seem to care. it’s nice. soft.
it’s ruined a bit when eddie sits bolt upright with a ‘shit! my van’s still in loch nora!’ but the way they both laugh so hard they can’t breathe is nice too.
steve’s only been here for a few hours, and he’s already never felt more at home.
and here’s the tags! this is literally the first time anyone has asked me to tag them for more, thank you for making me feel like a celebrity lol
@fairytalesreality @swimmingbirdrunningrock
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mi-i-zori ¡ 1 year ago
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The Hunter and The Prey
CoD Fae!AU - Fae!Ghost x f!reader
SYNOPSIS : When the Hunter finds herself vulnerable in the middle of the Frost, a certain spirit decides to make it clear who exactly she belongs to.
WARNINGS : Gore, body horror, violence, predator behavior (Fae VS Human)...
Author’s note : This is part 3 of The Hunter’s story. As always, my take on this AU is inspired by @ghouljams ‘s works.
I do not give anyone permission to re-publish and/or translate my work, be it here or on any other platform, including AI.
CoD AUs - Masterlist
Main Masterlist
A Wild Hunt - Masterlist - I - II - III - IV
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Her wards are no more, and she doesn’t know why.
This hunt was supposed to be an easy one. And it had been, in a way ; her target had been born not so long ago, and couldn’t gather enough magical power to give her too much trouble. Yet, as she prepared to leave, all her protections had suddenly shattered, leaving her with only her weapons and experience to fight her way back to safety.
A curse falls from her lips. She can feel the shadows slowly tighten around her, their weight hindering her progress through the snow. She has become too vulnerable to be ignored. An easy meal for the beings of the Frost.
The creatures move within the misty darkness of the trees. In their hollow eyes, she sees nothing but the reflection of her own fearless expression. Although wary of the multiple weapons lining her clothes, they linger, waiting for the moment their potential meal will falter ; for a breach to exploit in the seemingly unbreakable walls of her mind. Yet, according to the magic dancing around her, a danger far greater than all of them combined hides in the shadows. While still keeping an eye on the freezing monsters, she steps forward, looking for the outline of a masked silhouette amidst the smog.
She survived many similar situations, she thinks. Hell ; as a child, her father even willingly put her in danger to hone her hunting skills. She can do this.
With a snarl, of the beasts suddenly rises in front of her. Gritting her teeth, she adjusts her stance in the slippery snow. Her dagger sits comfortably in her hand, its iron blade glistening in the wintery sun. Her opponent launches its scaly body at her, and her arm gets ready to plunge the cold metal in its flesh ; but the monster is suddenly covered in multiple layers of smoke, its muffled cries echoing within what soon looks like a thick, misty cocoon. It vanishes seconds later, leaving only a broken, hollow shell in its wake.
A cold, eerie silence falls upon the forest. The young woman suddenly tenses as black tendrils slowly wrap around her, dancing at the edges of her vision. The remaining creatures’ mouths tremble, teeth instinctively ready to rip the flesh from her bones ; yet they can’t stop a series of whimpers from escaping their throats as they crawl in front of the power emanating from the strips of darkness. A large, gloved hand rises from behind her to rest on her chest, a newfound warmth settling against her back and somehow preventing her blade from striking the invisible threat.
In front of her, the monsters take a step back. They know that, even with her wards destroyed and her body covered in wounds, the Hunter is still a threat to their very existence. But as a skull mask emerges from the overwhelming darkness above her, they all understand that, right now, the Spirit of the Fog is the one they should fear ; especially when he is powerful enough to remain unfazed by his close proximity to the living weapon standing right under his palm.
She can feel him shift behind her. His body curls around her own, just enough to dip his head against her shoulder. And, despite his size, he still manages to keep her back flush against his front. She can feel his breath on her neck, probably way too warm for a fae of Winter.
Just like his entire being.
It took her days of cleansing to get rid of just half of his scent. She has a feeling he is going to make this process much longer because of this.
And she knows it’s working just like he wants it to by the way the monsters in front of them keep cowering under the threat of the Ghost’s power.
- Fuck off.
His tone is commanding, somber, cold. The beasts don’t waste a second to scramble away, leaving them both alone in the middle of the misty forest. The silence weighs heavy on her chest as the fae keeps his hand above her heart. A single wrong move could be the end of her, whispers a voice in her mind, and her instincts are torn between fighting him and remaining still.
- Not trying your luck against me, Hunter ?
His low timbre echoes against her back, shaking her very core. Everything about him screams danger. She stays frozen as he slowly turns her around to face him. Her eyes stay focused on every one of his languid movements as he takes off one of his gloves to grab the hand holding her blade. Lifting it to his throat, he slides his fingers against the sharp iron, unbothered by the vicious burns it leaves on his skin. He tilts his head with a low hum, prompting her to answer. The ice of his eyes glow under his balaclava.
Whatever he is, she thinks, she greatly underestimated him. She barely manages to articulate the question that has been bothering her since he showed himself, her teeth almost cracking under the pressure of her jaws.
- You were the one who shattered my wards, weren’t you ?
The Spirit lets out a deep chuckle that sends shivers down her spine.
- What a clever girl.
He leans towards her, the bone of his mask coming to stand right before her face. His free hand steadies her in place when she tries to put some distance in-between their bodies, allowing him to get even closer to her ear.
- One more reason to make you mine.
She finally manages to push him away ; and he lets her, obstructing her view with a thick layer of smog when her dagger tries to strike him. And, just like the first time they met, he leaves her alone in the middle of the Frost, his back fearlessly facing the predator she was raised to be. But as she watches him disappear into the shadows, she can’t help but think that, right now, she feels more like a prey than ever.
What is he ?
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xandolin ¡ 17 days ago
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out here drawing things from my partner's fae au again.
the chokehold it has on my mind is unreal.
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inchidentally ¡ 1 year ago
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Write a list of all the landoscar concepts u want to read 👀
oh fuuuuuck anon
ok so bearing in mind I'm still way behind w fic reading so if these already exist pleeeaaaase link me up (and ofc if anyone writes these link me!!):
there's the vestal virgins thing I blurted out
vamposcar AU and this could go the way of it being more like a minor health condition that results in lots of daytime sleeping/sun sensitivity/needing blood during duress like races but Lando is ??? when he finds out, or full-blown immortal Oscar who keeps having to remember to act like a normal young man and not a highborn son from Renaissance Italy and Lando makes the realization during a stream when chat jokingly suggests Oscar's a vampire, basically I want lots of horny Lando and trying-to-hold-back-fangs-Oscar
EDIT: @nyoomfruits has this delicious and funny and beautiful vamposcar fic I’ve Tasted Blood (and I want more)!!
fae-but-doesn't-know-it Lando was actually found as a magic baby in part of an ancient forest near his family's Somerset home, nestled among bluebells when his brother wishes for a little brother - they raise him as normally as possible but have to hand-wave how often he gets hurt but heals super quickly and only Jon is informed for Lando's protection - Oscar being the first person outside the family circle to pay close enough attention to Lando and notice a few odd things: the strange light that seems to follow Lando wherever he goes even in the dark, the way the gold specks in his green eyes sometimes move around, the way certain metals make his skin rash up, how Lando isn't just a fussy eater he can somehow sense where food he hates is being stored even if it's out of sight, how he's wary of cats because they react strangely to him, and the way Oscar sometimes has to avoid looking directly in Lando's eyes because he's actually falling prey to Lando's instincts to trap and keep him. I'd love a scene where Oscar approaches Lando about it in private and does a little experiment he found on the internet where he intentionally hurts himself and Lando freaks while Oscar keeps telling him to "fix it, you know you can fix it" and hey presto! Lando has a lot of questions for his parent because he just healed Oscar with his hands and some weird glowing light came out?? EDIT: @lemonadedino has begun a fic for this!! and here's the finished fic!!
Lando who everyone assumes has been with guys but hasn't who then finds out that Oscar who has been with more guys than girls (Oscar having to talk Lando through a whole lot of realizing things)
Oscar adores casually sucking dick with no feelings attached and has blown just about every guy in racing that he could - except when he asks Lando he's unexpectedly excited and Lando is snorting a drink out of his nose in shock and oops has Feelings when Oscar gives him the best head of his life
Lando loves making straight men crazy for him and collects them like beaded bracelets but when it comes to Oscar he has an attack of guilt and can't work his usual wiles. Oscar assumes Lando is just especially not interested and ~miscommunication~ ensues
eternal-dork-complex Oscar has no interest in his own appearance and just kinda hopes the people he dates/sleeps with will be game but also lets a lot of hotties slip by because he doesn't bother - oops that's the case with Lando who Oscar assumed would be out of his league so he friendzones himself. Lando perceives this as Oscar somehow ?? not finding him smoking hot ?? what is wrong with this guy ?? but Oscar is also so incredibly kind and funny and attentive to Lando and his best teammate yet. he assumes it's that Oscar is just not interested bc it's not like being straight has stopped guys when it comes to Lando but ohhhh it hurts more and more that Oscar is the one to not be head over heels for him. lots of inside Lando's poor confused head POV and he ends up back in his apartment in Monaco all alone and wanting to cry every five minutes because Oscar just hugged him goodbye in Abu Dhabi and went off without a care in the world! texting miscommunication where Max F checks in worried and Lando spills it all out but through his blurry wet eyes he accidentally sends it to Oscar who had texted at the same time asking about the Autosport Awards videos they'd recorded. Lando falls asleep miserable and jetlagged and only wakes up hours later to the building's security guard pounding on the door saying that a Mr. Piastri has been asking to get in for the past hour but ofc Lando has missed all the texts and calls and intercom buzzes. Oscar is finally allowed in and he's frantic and rumpled with his little backpack and so adorably confused that Lando has to kiss him. LOTS of communication and feelings ensue etc.
ok that's all I could do for now but I'm gonna keep this to update anon, thank you for making me do this bc I had no idea I wanted all of this aslfjlashfljhf
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godslush ¡ 1 year ago
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I guess as part of the slow migration of stuff I can no longer rely on referring to TwiX for, here's a few more concepts from the Gothic AU. Most of the Stardroid stuff is @dahlia-the-nurd's business, but I've drawn a few, and we started working on some Second Numbers stuff. There's also more OC-focused art, but that's another can of worms and a little more personal.
Organized a bit weird here because my inconsistent aspect ratios are messing with thumbnail focus.
Pluto (the only SRN I was 'responsible' for coming up with backstory for) was a witch's familiar, a black cat who absorbed her moon-based magic and reincarnated through nine lifetimes, gaining more and more silver fur each time, specializing in fae shapeshifting. Being on his final life, he works for Sunstar and Terra as a manor guard and concierge of sorts.
I know very little about Jupiter, save he's a harpy living in the 'SRN' manor's tower, keeping watch with his corvid flock. Despite being a 'Gothic Horror' AU, the setting eventually branched into other folklores and mythologies, with the 'gothic' stuff being most prominent due to the focused region centering around the vampires' and werewolves' ecological origin point. The 'Stardroids' are a motley collection because they've come from all over the world.
Neptune is meant to fill the "Creature from the Black Lagoon" niche as far as the 'classic movie monsters' interpretation of 'gothic horror' goes, and lives in the lake/moat of the manor. Hilariously enough, he is also the manor's primary chef. A rare traditionally-drawn concept piece, but doesn't show off how he's usually caked in algae, and carries a big ol' hook.
Two pics of werewolf Sunstar, done in a far more 'clean' style, because we had just watched Castlevania, haha. Also, something about his design makes me want to go that extra mile.
The Second Numbers are all werewolves, with 'Wily' being one of the oldest; his inner circle of original converts being one of the more notorious 'packs' terrorizing the countryside from their base in a cave with a conveniently skull-shaped mountain face.
Metal is an anti-hunter, who masquerades as a woodcutter and carpenter going from town to town, weeding out threats and opening the towns to raids. Despite this, his initial conversion to werewolf wasn't exactly stellar, and he prefers the company of humans over other werewolves when possible.
Air, by contrast, was killed by hunters rather gruesomely, only to be subjected to an attempt at revival through dark magic. It worked, but he retained sapience - enough so to enact revenge on the hunters who did it. He can no longer revert to human form, but it's a small price to pay given his current reanimated state has a reputation for being nigh unbeatable unkillable.
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halcyone-of-the-sea ¡ 1 year ago
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To Hunt a Silver Stag (I)
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AU MASTERLIST || PART II
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PAIRING: Knight!Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Fae Princess!Reader
WORDCOUNT: 6.9k
WARNINGS: Arranged marriage, talks of childbirth, traditional views of women & men in medieval times, talks of war, death, heavy religious imagery/symbolism, etc.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You wore a crown of deer antlers atop your head. Charms were woven into the gaps between the tines, attached to golden thread; jewels of starlight strung like teardrops from the moon. Your feet, staying still on the hard stone of the Great Hall, are bare though attract no dirt or dust—it is as if the very ethereal aura that coats your gown of pure white repels any such thought of uncleanliness or corruption of this mortal plane. 
You are so very far from home.
Standing in the center of your soon-to-be husband’s court, your eyes seem not to be on the man himself, who watches you greedily from the throne of black iron, but instead behind him. Blank of any emotion, your long lashes blink in the direction of the stained glass windows with a horrible longing. Whispers from the multitude of court attendants go in one ear and out the other—useless to you. Their time would be gone in a blink, and yet here you would remain, immemorial. Their words were nothing, and their utterances would turn to dust faster than their bodies would.
You can’t help but wonder if those colorful depictions in that glass window, of God and his valiant angels, are mocking you as you blink at them slowly. Not only for what you are and where you now find yourself in the kingdom of your enemies but for being so full of the very qualities that would normally resign a woman of this age to the stake. 
Independent, confident, and curious, among others. 
A voice raises above the rest, and your eyes blink elegantly, the silver hue to them unnatural in all senses. Yet, you do not look away from the mighty white stag, its soldered bits of thin glass a patchwork of an overwatching Lord. Saint Eustace is there, staring at it, just as was told from generation to generation.
A pagan man converted to Christianity, the symbol of a cross set between antlers very much like the ones adorning your head. Humming under your breath, your eyes dip down, chin moving. Below the window, there stands a tall knight, and your gaze locks with his softly. 
“Today,” the King’s voice echoes over the crowd as brown orbs stare at you, blinking. “We are here to celebrate the joining of two great bloodlines!” He stands with a grand cape over his shoulders, falling to the floor as his boots stand at the top of the stairs to the throne. Yet, this knight holds your attention more than your Promised does as the cheering starts, loud; making your ears twitch.
At your waist, a golden belt is engraved with expert attention, stories woven into metal that even seem to move with the magic embedded into it. It seems to hum with an energy that makes your eyes narrow in confusion upon this stranger.
He had brown eyes, the knight, and the hues reminded you of brown that you could see in the trees of your home—those old beasts that grew still with the magic of your line and your gentle touch. Surrounding him, there was silver armor and a strip of red fabric that went over one shoulder, hanging beside the items of his station; a sword and a dagger on a brown leather belt.
Brows furrowing, your head tilts slowly, unblinking, as the eye contact persists. 
A bold man, it seems.
The knight’s eyelids slightly widen, as if realizing he had been staring, and his face swiftly moves to the side, his short hair close to his oval skull. You hear the faint clearing of a throat come into the shell of your pointed ears.
Sighing, your focus returns to the matter at hand, the crown’s adornments clinking together as your head rotates. The speech. 
King Michael spreads his hands out, a man far into his older years but still had the gleam of malice in his eyes. Those beady things. They remind you of a rat—a small creature, while intelligent, that cannot win unless through tricks.
“We all know that magic has slowly been disappearing from the lands,” the King utters, voice echoing off the walls. Your hands are holding themselves near your abdomen, grace embedded into your bones. Watching how he speaks, you can’t deny he was influential. But influence didn’t matter when you had no wife—no children. He has a dying line, and that means weakness…which is why you’re here, after all. “And in that time, our war with the Fae has fallen into a stalemate.”
Your expression sharpens, fingers twitching. Stalemate? There were humans in your lands—spreading their fires and swinging their defiling iron swords. There was no war here except the one that this King was perpetuating. 
But you held your tongue, even if your silver eyes narrowed in an ancient, bitter, anger. Your head raises itself higher, hanging gemstones swinging. The knight near the stained glass is back to watching you—his feet shifting from under him, hands behind his armored back with loose shoulders.
“...Today, myself and the King of the Fae have come to an agreement in confidence, and in the fashion of old, I am to be wed to his daughter, a princess!” Gasps, cheers, clapping. They spring up from all corners of the Hall, bouncing. Your body longs for nature, to be away from rock and metal, these suffocating walls that close in with the gaggle of wretched corpses walking. “Peace shall be beholden to all of us! Magic shall come back into my bloodline through our many children, and all will share in its wealth!” 
You had compared yourself to a broodmare when your father had given the news of your journey here. A womb to be filled until you could give no more; restrained to a bed—away from any privilege and right.
And you’d been sent here anyway. A price needed to be paid, your father had told you. A daughter to stop the war. A child to bring back mortal magic and keep the peace through generations. Was your head to be put to the block for that? Who was to say that children would bring peace? That there weren’t more conflicts to come?
This was a momentary sacrifice, and here you were wearing white.
You hum under your breath and feel shackles tie themselves to your ankles; tying you to this place. But what other option did you have?
Your ears listen to the loud rapturous cheering, the exclamations of love that mean nothing to you—you do not love these people, do not love their need for violence and their pride. You want to go home, to find where you can rest among glades and grass. Converse with the birds and the beasts to learn of their news of far-off lands; run your hands through clear streams and watch plants grow where you walk.
As your stone body stays still, silver eyes unblinking, the knight near the window is the only man in the room not gazing at you like he wants something from you. While Lords have their eyes filled with lustful envy of your age-less skin—your finery and wealth; the promise of strong children, the knight is the only one with an open expression. 
He only watches, handsome face holding the whispers of stubble and eyes that would make many moral women wish to be his wife. 
Admittingly, your attention keeps going back to him, just as his own is stuck on you even as he tries to look professional. Back straight, armor glinting, sword pommel fiddled with by long fingers. 
The King is walking down the stairs, one withered leg at a time. You don’t offer any help.
“My bride,” Michael licks his lips when he’s in front of you; but he’s more fixated on your stomach than all else. What it will hold for him. “My beautiful Fae bride. My wedding will be known through history for ages to come.”
My. 
The world holds its breath. The knight’s jaw clenches, though no one sees it. 
You take a heavy breath into your lungs to hold back your snapping tongue. As the words meet the air, they come out as unemotional as a wave at sea. Wind holding mist.
“Certainly.”
—
As it turned out, the castle itself was even less homely than the material that was used to build it. You walk slowly through the halls, hands behind your back and your crown glimmering—the trail of a thin and flowing gown making you look like a specter. One crudely carved window after another passes by your right shoulder, and you look out of every slit; seeing the silver shades of moonlight. In contrast, everything on your left was washed with firelight from the blazing iron sconces, your ears twitching to the pop of wood and fabric saturated in animal fat. 
Everything here was horrible.
A prison, you think, slowing near one of the larger windows in the hall. A cage.  
Staring outside, trying for only a moment to understand the disgusting castle and adjoined town you look at, there’s a faint noise from far down the corridor. 
Wasting no time, your head moves slowly to the side, blinking. There isn’t anyone to be seen, but yet again, your slightly pointed ears twitch. 
A firm heartbeat. 
Bump-bump, bump-bump, bump-bump.
Staring at nothing, you listen for a moment, taking it in as your visage fights with blue and red light, shadows littering the small cracks and the marks of stone—your hands slightly tighten, but you hold no fear. 
You refused to be afraid here; you would go to your spiritual death with a high head, and nothing less. 
“It’s unbecoming to stalk as if a wolf,” you call, voice smooth and even. A beat of bird’s wings. “Four-legged beasts have perfected it, yet, the same cannot be said of you.” 
There’s a lapse of silence—a swirling of slight tension that comes not from you but another. The heartbeat in your ear lightly skips. Startled. A shadow cusps one of the connected hallways, a gleam of silver armor. You blink slowly.
“Apologies, Ma’am.” The Knight. The one from the Great Hall. “I…didn’t mean to make you nervous.”
His lithe form doesn’t try to hide from your accusation, instead, his body moves to the middle of the stone floor and straightens—one hand going to his heart and the other behind his back; bowing. The darkness of his complexion seems to glow in the light, smooth skin besides the marring of small scars along the left cheek. Tiny things, only two lines.
For no reason at all, your body lightly turns towards him, watching.
“I’m not nervous,” you respond. “Please, stand straight.” 
He does so without hesitation, though his eyes are avoiding yours. A guilty pull is to his lips that you can’t help but quirk a brow at. Yet, you remain emotionless, and outside the shadows of flying birds shift past.
“What is your name, Knight?” You see his expression slightly tense at the question, but you continue easily. A test, perhaps, if this man was worth your time. “I recall your face.” 
“I can’t give you that, My Lady.” Brown eyes go to meet yours, and the silver flecks in your orbs glimmer. “My orders were clear.”
“And were those orders also to follow me?” 
He clears his throat, feet shifting. “...Maybe.”
You hum, moving your body slowly and walking forward to him. The man blinks in surprise, straightening even more but a firm set to his eyes. His attention never wavers, unless it’s to glimpse your crown and belt, perfect pieces of artistry lost to this section of humanity. No mortal craftsman could imagine making something as such. He liked them, you notice at the light impression of awe in his gaze.
Anyone with sense would.
Stopping just a few feet away, you tilt your head. 
It was common knowledge that you never gave your name to one of the Fae, your betrothed would have told everyone close to him to avoid doing so. Just as you would never tell your real name to anyone—not even under dire circumstances. Names hold power, and no person in this castle would make you even more of a prisoner than you already were. 
You know the names of beasts and plants, flora and fauna—they bend to you, let you manipulate them to your will, though you often find no need to. The animals from any land prefer your company, anyway. The castle’s hunting hounds have already become well acquainted, just as the messenger birds had. 
But mortals? No. No, there were no names that you knew besides the King himself, and even then it was a fake one. Second names and such, are common. 
“Your title, then,” you say to the Knight. “If you’re to be a constant face to me.”
“Gaz is just fine, I’d say.” He nods his head, a slow smile moving his cheeks. Your brows furrow. Strange fellow. “A pleasure. I really do need to say that I wasn’t following you for long—I was only concerned you might have lost your way.”
You stare. 
“Lost?” Owlishly, your head shifts.
Gaz makes a noise in the back of his throat, one hand coming up to rub at the base of his neck. “Yeah—lost. It’s, uh, it’s a big castle, My Lady—”
“Stag.” Wide eyes blink, this meeting is only awkward on his part and not yours. In fact, for how humans go, he was acting far better than most. Usually, there was iron being brandished by now.
“What was that?”
“My title,” you explain, your crown’s gems bright in the light. The fire crackles, popping. “Stag. I do not need my status stated. I know what I am, Knight.”
“Then I’d say the same,” your fingers twitch, liking the word game he plays. Inside of your sockets, the unnatural makeup of your eyes shimmers. 
“Very well,” you pause, picking your words. “Gaz. A strange choice to be sure.”
He chuckles, nodding in a very stoic-like way despite the nearly boyish nature of him. “Well, Stag isn’t exactly common, either.”
You hum in your throat, unblinking; staring. Your intrigue grows the longer the man talks. Just like in the Great Hall, his form attracts all of your attention to it, against all laws that you seem to know in your soul. 
“Pray tell,” you shift, moving back to the window with your feet not making a single sound. Gaz watches on, eyes flickering between the hanging gems and how you tread over the stone as if you had wings. Your form slips back to the window, and your focus once more goes outward. “Has the King told you to spy on me, Gaz?”
The title, even if not the one of his birth—not the one written on his soul like a brand—still made the air quiver with might. You were older than most of this kingdom, the Knight knew. Older than the oak trees of the nearby forest; older than rock and wind and air.
Power dripped off your tongue like water to a leaf. 
But it wasn’t your influence that made the man answer you. It was his own nature. 
“Yes,” Gaz says, taking a few steps to where you stand, watching a flock of birds dance above the courtyard, silver moon-drips illuminating white feathers. “But I wouldn’t call it spying. Officially, I’ve been put in place to keep you safe, Princess.” His dark brows crease when you don’t pay him any mind. “I take my job very seriously, yeah?” 
“I can see that,” you utter, eyes still on the birds. “The only thing I need protecting from is the iron ring on your right hand.”
He startles, blinking for a moment. 
“...Parden?”
Silver eyes pierce him, watching; waiting. 
Gaz looks down, locking on the hand that has been resting on the pommel of his sword. Cape swishing, he makes a noise in the back of his throat. His sigil ring—the one that had been given over at his dubbing ceremony sat on the first digit, the engraving of his King’s coat of arms glimmering back. 
A wolf; a snake caught in its fangs. 
Brown eyes dart back, and he sheepishly smiles, huffing a chuckle of sorts. 
“Comes with the job, unfortunately,” yet still, his other hand easily grasps and slips the thing off, tucking it away into the leather pouch swinging from his belt. “I thought that was a myth—the Fae being harmed by iron. Conjured up to give people something to cling to.”
“I can name a million things that men and women like you consider myth,” you mutter, starting at that pouch, deep in thought. You hadn’t expected him to give in that easily. Your shoulders loosen their rigidness, but your chin never drops its high pride. “Every story comes from somewhere—be it reality or wives’ tales. Who’s to say that the words don’t give them life in one form or another?” 
“Bloody hell. Not a discussion to take up with me, I’m afraid,” Gaz huffs a chuckle, smirking. While still hesitant around you, the conversation wasn’t anything that made him want to not be around you. Everyone deserved to have their character shown, and what he was seeing so far wasn’t ringing any alarms. “Sound more of a scholar than a Princess, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Your lips quirk. “I prefer philosopher.”
“And what’s a Fae philosopher doing out in the middle of the night, then?” A breeze wafts through the window, blowing on your dress and making Gaz’s cape flutter in its bloodish tint. The torches whip and dance. You take a low breath, bird chips coming closer. 
“Speaking with an old friend.”
A white dove lands on the stone opening of the window, fluttering wings coming to fold along its sleek form until it shakes and settles all at once. 
“Lysander,” you say in greeting, nodding your head. Gaz watches, barely moving as his lips part in astonishment. 
Your hand extends itself, bearing no rings or bracelets. All you needed was your crown. Tiny eyes blink as an angular head turns to the side, tiny coos sparking from a rounded breast. Pale feet grasp your perfect flesh, such a tiny weight settles before you lift effortlessly; wings flapping to keep balance. 
“What news, then?” You ask in a whisper, bringing the beast to your crown. Lysander settles on one of the tines, head dipping down as feathers puff. Into your ear, words take shape. 
You hum in answer, blinking at every clicked sentence; tapping talons. 
Gaz stares blankly, eyebrows pulled up on his head and unable to articulate himself.
So many stories about your people—he hadn’t thought half of them to be true. While he’d been stationed in many places during the duration of this war, he’d never actually encountered one of the Fae before. Gaz had been told they were like a plague; they came in when you weren’t looking, spoke magic into your ears, and forced you to come back to their home and live as mindless beasts. Cupbearers and entertainment. 
Of the countless knights he’d been in line with, he knew the true names of none of them. A precaution. Forethought. 
Yet…you don’t look dangerous. 
But the man is far from stupid. 
“He says the fires from your forges burn his eyes,” your voice snaps him back to you, and he straightens, fingers twitching. Gaz finds your face already turned his way, owlish in its movements. “The smoke makes his throat ache.”
“I,” he pauses, mouth opening and closing. Brown eyes dart to the sharp-beaked dove; the thing very much like you in the way it watches him. “I’m…sorry?”
Your lips pull in a frown, sighing with a shake of your head. 
I can never survive here, you find yourself thinking. I believed this is what I had to do, but if this is how I’m going to live…
“Tell me about your King, Gaz,” your body swiftly turns, feet carrying you down the corridor once more with long, even, steps. “If I’m to marry him, I will know of his nature.”
The man clears his throat and follows after, where you hear the clinking of silver and the scabbard against his thigh. He glances over at you, walking if not a bit behind yourself in proper fashion. 
“What do you want to know, Ma’am?”
Your unnatural orbs shimmer, and the bird on your crown hunkers down; puffed contently and eager to rest his wings from a long flight. 
“Everything. I will not be unaware of my fate.” 
“Well,” Gaz sighs, rubbing at his chin with his opposite hand. He licks his lips, mind running to answer the best he can. “You’ll not want for anything—finery and wealth will—”
“I do not care about mortal revelry. I need neither fine things nor wealth.” Your voice curtly moves along the open air. The Knight’s boots connect with stone while your bare flesh emits nothing. “His character, Knight. Is he fair—just?”
Gaz’s face tightens, glancing from you to the hallway as he takes a moment to think.
“My King has…become troubled with the turning tides of the war. I’m sure when your marriage is official, he’ll go back to how he was before.” He doesn’t seem certain, but loyalty is a trait that a knight knows well. You had been set as his charge, of course, not under the best of circumstances, but he would do his job how he believed would benefit all parties. Even if his guts were stiff at the thought of a forced marriage. 
“My Lady Stag?” He asks, and your heart jerks unexpectedly at the muttering of your title. 
Blinking in confusion, your hand coming up to rub at your collarbone like a willow branch, you almost miss the question entirely. 
“Where you come from, if I can ask, of course, what’s it like?” Your mind strays from marriage ceremonies and consummation—momentary peace slipping in on waves of this man’s smooth accent. 
Mouth opening, only to close once and open again, you decide to indulge this man with your answer. If only because he speaks of your home. 
“Green,” is the soft utterance of your answer to him. “It’s green. More trees and rivers than you can count in your lifetime. Animals each more fantastical than the last; all of which your people now call nothing but hearsay.” 
You can sense his attention, sucking up knowledge as if he had the years to know and understand it all. 
Lysander coos, shaking his feathers out, and you glance upward without moving your head. You chuckle like a blade of moving grass. 
Blinking, Gaz slowly begins to smile, cocking his skull to the side boyishly. “What’s so funny, then?”
Your high nose twitches. 
“He says you’re as if a Wyvern hatching. A curious thing.” Brown eyes drift to your companion, whose peaked eye pierces like black fire-stone. Gaz’s mouth releases a puff of a chuckle, chest jerking. 
“Hell, never thought I’d get insulted by a bird.” 
“Humans have not the ability to speak with beasts,” you ease out, walking on. “On that, I have to say you are at a sure disadvantage.”
“What?” Gaz’s amused voice is in your ear. “Minus the whole immortality thing?”
You side-eye him, visage calm with decades of understanding. “Not everything is built to last forever.”
A momentary silence falls between the two of you. Eyes locked, you both stare, legs carrying bodies across the unfeeling stone until the area Lysander had told you about takes form. You shift a slow right and exit into the inner courtyard, large stone walls making a small square of patchy green grass and dying plants. A fountain sits still. 
“If this is to be a game of equal exchange, Knight, I desire to ask the next question.” Your eyes take it all in, hand moving out to capture the blackened leaves of a Medlar tree. Frowning at the dead fauna, you hear Lysander take to wing, flapping until his ghostly form lands on the far-off fountain’s edge. 
“Alright,” Gaz nods, looking around at the dying place with a frown as well. He’d never come here before, but the state of things was…sad, really. “Ask away.”
“When you leave the castle—the town,” you let power move to your fingertips, and you feel the tingles of it running the lengths of your arms like ice and fire; taking a low breath. “What do you see? I admit, I’m not used to having company with humans. I know not how their souls feel.”
Gaz walks into the small enclosed space, humming as he taps the pommel of his sword. His shoulders shrug as his head tilts up, blinking at the stars. 
“I wouldn’t see it as you would, I gather.”
You look over your shoulder, amusement in your face mixed with a slice of intrigue. “That wasn’t my question. But, no, you would not.” 
“Figured,” he chuckles, nodding at you. Gaz articulates himself dutifully. “I see a place far more peaceful than the one here. Outside the stone and smog—it’s beautiful, truly. Calm. You can actually think above the noise, you know? I usually find myself wanting to get out more often, but my duty ties me here.” 
Your eyes soften slightly, thumb running the face of the leaf as you take in his words. Lysander stoops to take a sip of water. 
“You’re…” You lack the words, only humming and stopping yourself. 
“Why are we here, Princess?” Gaz asks you, gazing around. “I had only expected you to walk to the kitchens—the library, even. Don’t get me wrong, you can go as you wish, but I’m not sure this is the most…” He grunts. “Sightly place to end up. Everything’s dead.”
“Nearly,” you whisper, a tiny smile taking over your flesh. “Not quite.” 
Gaz’s frown is lost to you, as is his comment that he mutters, “Looks it.”
Leaning forward, you press your lips to the leaf you hold as if a precious object. Into its blackened and shriveled form, you whisper its name—its true name, one you had learned through years of patience and trust that bordered on an entirely trance-like state. A Medlar is a tough and stubborn thing, like the fruit it bears, it will hang on until all else is gone to dust. Its roots are strong, and from them, you had listened to the earth sing its songs one buzzing note at a time.
All things speak, you just have to know how to listen. 
There’s a surge of wild order, a dichotomy of will and freedom; the sing of an axe and the memories of young saplings just gracing their leaves to the sun. A circle of death and rebirth as old as the stars that still shone in a sky of black. 
You know many names, but those of the trees were the first to come to you, and it was only proper. Before anything, there were trees. 
The Medlar shakes, its leaves dropping down one at a time until they come in groups, in clusters—bare branches shiver like dogs do until creaking ballads move over the air. 
Starling, Gaz had taken a large step back, hand snapping to the handle of his sword, the blade half drawn. Lysander flies past his face, blunt talons skating the close-cropping of his hair before the bird grapples to your crown. Flinching, the knight watched with a mixture of horror and pure wonder.
The tree was sprouting new greens. 
You step back, and from your feet, the dead grass quivers, before the smell of groaning earth makes his nose twitch; fresh blades show themselves anew. The dove atop your crown jumps from one sharp tine to the next, dodging lines of gold—eyes glinting and wings flapping excitedly. 
Life is in the very air. 
You smile to yourself, silver eyes moving as a nearly ancient-looking spark flares to life in them—a long breath entering your lungs. 
Gaz’s face begins to heat as he watches, his heart pounding with something he can’t understand. He stares at your bright face before his fast-blinking eyes move to the grass growing all around; the bushes dancing, flowers opening up and turning to you. Birds gather on the edges of this verdant and fertile land, darting one by one to the fountain and to the trees. Singing.  
The knight steps back, feet dancing over the ground with an airy laugh stuck in his throat. 
“Holy hell…” he breathes, nearly panting. 
Wide eyes move back to you, expression open, innocent. This was a moment when you truly believed you’d never seen a face more bare than this; more giving. 
“You…” He laughs. “You’re tellin’ me you could always do that?” You chuckle, and it is a sound that could make roots grow in his heart, flowers bursting from his lungs. “I…I’m speechless, really. This is,” he laughs once more, turning a full circle, with his hand going to the back of his neck in shock. It was entirely new—all of it. Ivy climbed the stone, and the animals spoke and flew in the air; excitement something that transcends species. “This is extraordinary.”
You were something incredible. 
Chuckling, you raise a slow brow, feeling a foreign heat move over your cheeks. It’s a moment before you speak, taken aback by the reverency.
“My thanks, Knight,” your head nods his way, a simple dip of your chin and nothing more. “But this is only a small courtyard. A fraction. If I so wished, forests could grow from ashen ground.”
“How?” He asks you, eyes glittering more than the moon. 
Smaller birds join Lysander on your head, finches, perhaps, and sparrows. They tweet and chip, speaking their thanks. You reach up and let one move onto your finger, bringing it back to eye level as you move to softly connect your forehead to its own. Moving back, you hum and watch the bird fly off.
“Ages of practice,” you elegantly tip your head his way, careful of your cargo. “Quite verbatim.” 
Gaz is speechless, unable to recall something in his life that had made him feel so special to be able to witness it. Magic to humans was a dying thing—you’d be surprised if he’d ever even seen it in this magnitude before. 
“...Amazing,” he utters under his breath, smiling like a fool.
For all of your Fae trickery, your games, you had to be honest. “I don’t believe I thought you’d be this moved by it.”
“Really?” He blinks at you, a boyish twist to his face. “How could I bloody not be, Love?”
Your air gets stuck in your throat, eyes minutely widening. 
Gaz quickly comes back to himself, straightening and clearing his throat as your face suddenly blazes in a way that startles you. Heart pattering like a horse’s hooves not only at the…different title but his awe at your magic as well. 
“Forgive me, My Lady,” you choose not to correct him. “I overstepped.”
His body bends forward in a deep bow, hand to his heart, resting over his armor as the cape drapes its crimson fabric to the now vibrant grass. 
It had briefly eluded you that you were to be married soon. A comment like that could get the Knight and his tree-bark brown eyes put to the sword. You hold back a long sigh, eyelids fluttering shut softly. 
“Is he kind?” Your question is small, but it moves like a knife.
Gaz stares hard at the ground, once dead and nothing but a reminder of nature. He clenches his jaw, a worry swirling in his gut. The man knows who you’re asking about, and he holds the same dread he did in the Great Hall as you were led like a sacrificial lamb to the altar. 
Maybe the Knight was broken, but even if he’d never met one of your kind before, he knew that no person deserved to be bartered for the illusion of peace—forced to give children like they were only objects. But maybe he was also just a man not meant for this lifetime.
It was the way of things.
Gaz swallows the tension in his shoulders. He will not lie. 
“...No.”
—
This tall knight had become a constant at your side. Officially, he’d been placed for your protection, but you knew it was because the King didn’t want you to cut and run. 
But unless there was a very good reason to, he should have known that you were not the running type. It was a battle of wits, and even into your marriage, you would always come out on top.
It started easy enough—Michael would invite you for tours of the castle ‘making it a home’ he’d said in front of his court. It was a power trip. 
He’d talk about his wealth like it would make you swoon; like you cared at all. You could only hide your sneer for so many hours, even with your infinite amount of patience. Time had mellowed you like the rocks of the ocean, but even they cracked when the storm was strong enough. 
Yet still, you considered yourself too intelligent for baseline insults.
“My palace was much the same, your Highness. Our towers rose high—nearly gracing the clouds themselves.”
“Oh, lovely, my King. Pray tell, do you also have pet dragons? Oh…unicorns, perhaps? My, I had the most lovely unicorn companion when I was just shy of my two-hundredth birth year. A little thing—all legs and neck. Beautiful creatures.” 
“Gorgeous little trinkets. Tell me, do you have a coffer for fallen stars? They create the most magnificent illumination for late-night reading.”
Gaz nearly lost his composure at times, even if no one else could tell except for you and your pointed ears; twitching at every breath that was fought to keep still. The over-the-lip huffs and chuckles. In fact, you found yourself perpetuating the back-handed insults just to hear those noises. Such small and meaningless things, in the grand scheme. 
You took…enjoyment from it.
Seeing the effect it had on the King was also a bonus—his raging eyes, snapping tongue held back for only his reputation and little more. He wanted to take you by the arm and shake you, you knew, yell in your face. 
Kind, King Michael was not. Gaz had been correct. 
In the nights, you would discuss with the Knight—sitting in the dense and growing courtyard with your body comfortable on the grass; Gaz’s on the fountain’s edge.
You have much of the same confidence in one another as you do tonight. 
“Do knights marry for love?” Your voice wafts out, petting Lysander with a single finger in your lap; itching at his neck as he coos. “Do they get to choose?” 
Gaz fiddles with his cape’s clasp, fingers dancing over the silver make. He has made a motion to always take off his ring when it’s just the two of you, easily slipping it away until he was forced to put it back on. He doesn’t know if you feel it, but he believes the two of you to be well-off acquaintances—perhaps even friends. 
The man enjoyed speaking to you. He reveled in the limitless knowledge that spilled from your tongue, your stories and tales. Gaz, unlike so many others, enjoyed your company not for the power that it offers in a physical sense, but for the words that you freely give. Often your sentences were like honey to him, seeping into his head.
A princess speaking with a knight? Unheard of. A Fae princess? Blasphemy. 
It was easy to forget that you were older than many generations of his family line. 
“No,” he says, glancing over. “All knights take a vow of chastity when they commit to service. None of those alive in this kingdom will wed unless they willingly break their oaths.” 
Your head tilts, crown resting comfortably a small distance away on a rock.
“That sounds lonely.”
Gaz smiles, “Worried about me?” 
You stare, eyes traveling the little deaths on his face—the lines, the scars. “If it’s what you wish to do with yourself, who am I to tell you any different?” 
The man’s face softens, lips pulling as his cheeks heat under the moonlight. “Figured you’d have some opinion of it.”
You hum, raising a brow. “It’s your life—it’s so fleeting. Tread it as if water between your fingers. Before you know it, it’ll be gone.” Lysander leans into your flesh, shivering. “Live it.”
“For someone who says they don’t know humans that well,” Gaz grumbles, though his chest is light. “You sure know a lot about them.”
“Intuition,” your mouth twitches in a smile. “And a bit of reality.”
Delicate looks are shared. 
You do admit, you liked these conversations with Gaz. The long nights and the feeling of grass under your flowing dresses; the horrid contraptions that your betrothed had tried to make you wear stuck far back into the wardrobe of your room. Heavy items—suffocating corsets, unlike the simple but elegantly sewn one you wear now. You could feel it trying to sneak in when the days drew on. 
Control. 
It was all becoming more and more apparent. You did not want to live like this. 
Your face goes troubled as the calm silence moves over the Medlar with its reaching branches. Fireflies hang like miniature stars as you take your crown and slip it back on; to feel the comforting weight of antlers. 
The knight pauses as he slips his cape off of his shoulder, blinking over at you in a slow confusion. You look troubled. He’d never seen that expression on your face before.
“Stag?” Your head swivels, as if in another world.
“Just thinking,” your voice moves into his ears, making them hum with energy. Gaz’s brows furrow, a frown taking over. After a second, he stands, moving closer on quiet feet. 
You watch him as he goes to kneel near you, one arm moving over the bent nature of his leg while the other holds fabric—letting it cascade over the earth. Brown eyes narrow, and a joking tease moves with the undertone of slight concern.
“I’m usually the talker, I know, but when you look a bit like that it makes me nervous.”
You frown. “Look like what?”
“Like someone’s got a sword to your neck, Princess.” The air is cool here, the deep throws of night taking you by the breath in your throat. A smooth smirk. “It’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen, yeah?”
If you leave, if you find a way out of this…the war will never end. It will go on until stone cracks like glass and generations forget why it even started in the first place. 
But why were you put to the axe because of it? Why must you take the blade to the stomach—an object of greed? 
Gaz’s amused voice moves lower at your immobile lips, going serious. 
“Hey,” a hand outstretched to your arm, hovering. “Really, is everything alright?”
“Gaz,” you pause, voice still level despite your heated pulse. It’s like a snake curls itself in your guts, roots growing in your veins. The courtyard seems to shiver all by itself, leaves curling into themselves from bushes and trees. Lysander’s feet shimmy, head moving about. 
This knight had been kind to you as well as honest about his intentions. Chivalrous. Such qualities are hard to come by anymore.
“I don’t believe I want this.” It’s a breath more quiet than a lapping of waves. Gaz stills, fingers above your flesh twitching. “I can’t live in a cage. I refuse.”
Silver meets brown, holding it firmly. 
“I will not be a prize to be chained to a birthing bed.” 
The man’s face pulls at that, tightening. 
You don’t know what to expect. It isn’t fear in you—no, nothing like this could make you afraid. Apprehensive? Perhaps. Age made you cautious. At any moment he might flip his tune; run off to tattle to a King he, seemingly, likes just as much as you. Which is to say, very little. But there’s still the possibility, the knowledge stacked over ages and ages of strategy and mind games. 
A knight of a tension-ridden kingdom, swearing fealty to a King whom you’re betrothed to. You’d just expressed treason, in a way. It could put you to the sword; to the rope. To irons. Your mind runs through the millions of possibilities, not able to settle on a single one before—
A cape settles over your shoulders, startling you. 
Hand snapping to grab the front, your head snaps up, eyes wider than you can remember them ever going. 
Soft browns meet you, a thin smile. Fireflies buzz about, and a dove sits under your still finger, watching with beady orbs intently at the scene. A Medlar quivers. 
A stag and a knight breathe the same air. A godly creation and a saint ensnared in a song far larger than they intend, as the world shifts past all around them. Silver starlight leaves long reflections breaking from the hanging glory of your gems, but the patches of light on Gaz’s face capture yours in that instant far more than they should have. 
Impossibly so. Unnaturally so. 
Does this mortal have magic of his own, perhaps? You have to ask yourself. There was no other possibility. 
And when he speaks…it’s like whatever ice has been layered over your antediluvian heart breaks into fire. There wasn’t even a fight from him.
“Then tell me what you need.”
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perry-the-platypus-f1cs ¡ 4 days ago
Text
Here's just a lil snippet of a Cod Au fanfic I'm writing :)
Its an Au where Bell is a human general and Adler is the king of the fae.
At some point in battle, the screaming gets annoying; the constant nonstop cries of pain and death rattle a person's ears so much that you'd wish you couldn’t hear anymore, but what was even worse was the eerie silence that fills your ears after a battle. 
No screaming, no gasps of pain or struggle, just quiet, dreadful silence.
But there were two on the battlefield that were still alive, for now. 
A young unknown soldier and a general whose name and sneer of cold command brought forth respect from allies and fear from enemies. Both now lay dying, leaning against an oak tree that knew more years than the both of them combined. 
But a fae scouting group approached.
And the fates of the two were uncertain; the soldier would die whilst the general would live with the weight of all the lives lost dragging down on his shoulders. 
the shuddering breaths that Bell takes as he looks down at his bleeding side, wincing softly in pain, cursing himself mentally, ‘fucking idiot, of course they had reinforcements, stupid stupid.’ The feathered ends of arrows protrude from his shoulder blades, and his coarse hand presses down on a stab wound that a lucky fae managed to score on him before he took their head off with a cleave of his longsword that was now discarded, lying haphazardly at his non-injured side.
The young boy, a man barely over 20 human years old, had several arrows protruding from his body. A human pincushion. Bell could almost hear the grating laugh of whatever damned magical being found them.
Elf, fae, dragonborn, and any other fucking magic-made arsehole would kill them on the spot, especially after seeing Bell’s gold and green uniform.
“General, it has been my honour…” The shuddering gasps from the bleeding boy next to him broke Bell away from his thoughts; the unlucky man had caught far too many arrows to survive, and it didn’t help that a fae spear had run through his shoulder, but Bell had to be strong even if it just gave the soldier comfort before the boy passed.
“Don't say that, soldier. You’ll live to fight another day. Our king needs soldiers like you.”
The boy had taken several arrows meant for Bell. The general hated when people threw themselves in front of danger for him. He had seen many battles and had won more than he had lost. 
Ok soo just a little background on what this universe is like.
there is a magic system where every being is born from magic except for humans who were made from a disgraced god ( Anderim, Pronounced an-der-im) humans enhance their magic by using runes and other alchemy that take or steal the natural magic in other beings.
Not many humans have runes tattooed on them because the use of magic usually makes a normal person go insane because of the power and runes are usually used to draw magic from living animals or other species, humans stealing magic is usually foraging from the forests or dead animals but more powerful magic is mostly taken from living animals or other magical species.
Colors are VERY important metallic colors are used to show rank Black is regular soldier, bronze is lieutenants, silver is commanders and captains and finally gold is generals in the human army but for other species gold is used to show wealth and royalty. but to the humans gold is used to show that the person has earned their position.
Other colors are used to signal kingdoms and domains the humans are red and green, fae are gold and blue and so on with no other species not using some kind of metallic or rare crystal color in their banner, the humans are the only species to only use 'plain' colors.
i have so much more for this fic just AGUHGHHHH
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