#for an au where Pitch is a Fae King | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1800jjbarnes · 1 year

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◇ 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐭.𝟏 ◇

【Synopsis】 : One day, when a far away kingdom gets attacked, a lone brave knight fights to save his homeland. But what happens when death comes knocking and only a small fae could save him.

『Word count』 : 3.5k

-> Genre: Fantasy Au. Fluff. Gore. Suggestive.

Paring: GumpyKnight!Bucky x Fae!Reader

[Warnings] : Violence, heavy gore, blood, weapons, animals dying, near character death, making out

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The enchanted forest just on the outskirts of the kingdom was one of the most ancient and most powerful places you could ever visit. The thick forestry was home to many magical beings, ranging from fairies, fae, nymphs, druids, and more. If you walk fifteen minutes into the giant trees, you can spot a crystal clear waterfall that is said if you swim in it, a water nymph will appear and grant you wishes.

If you cast yourself deeper inside, as the forest becomes denser, you can find a cave that houses a griffin. It has spoken that he is sound asleep waiting for his master to awaken him from his enchanted slumber. The forest is beautiful inside and out but never tread too far, It may be magical and gorgeous, but it’s a dangerous land. The creatures that hide inside can be seductive and lure you into an early gra—

“Samuel! Clinton! Stop scaring the kids.” King Steve called from across the classroom. The young prince and princess stared in shock hearing the horrors of the forest just beyond their bedroom.

“Uncle Steve, can you tell us about the forest? Haven’t you been in there yourself!” The young princess smiled at him, intrigued by the stories that were whispered in the castle. Steve just chuckled, leaning against the large door frame. The two knights who were telling the stories also anticipated what their leader might say.

“Well, there was this time when—My lord three or more large wolves have entered the outskirts of the kingdom,” Nat calls out with three other knights following her close behind, Wanda and Vision, while Peter looked out of breath having to try and keep up with olders, and their long legs.

Sam and Clint told the kids to go find their father, Steve's brother from another kingdom, and wait until the threat was gone. Steve rounded them all up, heading straight for the large entrance gates.

“Wait where is Sargent Barnes?!!” Steve called, looking among the knights present.

—

Treading through the thick grass, Bucky wipes his brow with a bloody hand in hopes of removing the blood off his face. But it just ends up smearing it more. His armour is scratched, and some of it has been torn off. His chest was exposed, but he kept his shield close to make sure he didn’t get a jump on himself.

“Where are you…” He gritted his teeth, holding his sword tightly in his grasp. He already managed to slaughter two of the rage-filled beats, but he became unsure how many exactly were left. A stick snapped behind his back, making him turn at all the speed he could conjure. But it wasn’t as fast as he would have liked, being tackled down by a large black wolf. Its teeth were a mix of black, red, and yellow, its breath stunk of death, and eyes were pitch as the night sky. It was hungry, and Bucky was its prey.

—

The meadows were extra lively this fine day. The flowers were all in full bloom, making pollen dance in the cool breeze. Your cottage was warm, and the smell of leftover burnt wood from last night’s fire was still prominent as you snipped at some herbs in your greenhouse that was connected to your humble abode.

Placing the herbs and sorts carefully into the little grass basket you carry around, you head inside to sort them out for storage. Some things you sell in neighbouring kingdoms, and others you keep just for yourself. Placing everything on the counter, you notice you’re missing a few items for the meal you planned for tonight. Sighing, you head upstairs to get dressed. You couldn’t do without the ingredients, and it was only a short walk to where you needed to go.

You put on your petty coat before layering on your fabrics. You put on a baby pink and blue with a contract of a white theme. You tie on your bodice top to make sure you avoid your sheer wings. Lastly, you threw over a slitted half cloak to just cover your shoulders, gifting you a little hoodie.

Grabbing your basket and bow from downstairs, you slip on your shoes before heading out into the forestry you call home.

—

The small space clearing from the giant thick trees was covered in hot red blood. Two wolves were lifeless and cold, while one of their brothers still stood. It was wounded but held its ground. Bucky stood across from it, covered in blood. Losing count of what was his and what was the beasts. He held his stomach as the large gash that the big black wolf gave him continued to pour out streams of the crimson liquid.

He was dying.

He spat, holding his sword with both hands. If he was going down, he was going to go down fighting. The wolf growled, getting ready to pounce, looking Bucky dead in the eyes. He ran, jumping onto him, pinning him down to the damp ground. He screamed as the wolf bit into his shoulder, ripping a bit of his flesh away. It was the last piece of strength, Bucky drove his sword into the beast’s chest, his knuckles white as his grip clutched tight. The beast let out one last growl before falling onto the knight, lifeless.

Buck kicked the large wolf off him before leaning against a tree that sat behind him. His eyes grew heavy, feeling his breath becoming shallow. Lifting his left arm from his stomach to look at the damage. His lower half was completely covered in red, his hands painted cardinal.

“Fuck..” He choked, his eyes fuzzy unable to see his surroundings. Maybe going out on your own was a stupid idea. He thought before shutting his eyes for the final time.

—

You were minding your own business. Picking some morels up from the base of an Elms tree that had recently died. The soil was wet, getting stuck to your palms as you removed each mushroom carefully. A low whimper caught your attention. Making you stand up quickly. Your hand clutched your belt that carried your positions, getting ready just in case. You slowly walked towards the noise, preparing for the worst. But no one could prepare you for what you saw.

A literal blood bath.

Three dead wolves and a man. Blood is painted everywhere. The whimper you heard was from a smaller wolf that had stumbled upon the massacre. Its eyes are rage-full, stalking its way towards the man who lies unconscious. Without a second thought, you drew your bow, pulling out an arrow from the quiver. You dragged the arrow, aiming for the wolf. You slowed your breathing before letting go of the stem, letting it fly straight into the jugular of the wolf, stopping it in his tracks.

It was quick and painless.

You picked your feet up, letting them hover just above the forest floor, so your shoes don’t get blood on them. Flapping your wings, you fluttered over to the man, leaning down and becoming horizontal. You notice the gash in his chest, hissing at that state. You pop the button on your pouch, grabbing out our jar of golden dust. You pinch a small amount before sprinkling some of the unconscious male.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…” You sighed…

—

The smell of soy sauce, perilla oil, chicken broth, and other spices made Bucky's nose twitch. He shifts slightly, gifting him a sharp pain in his abdomen. His hands flew to his stomach, letting out a hard groan. He shifted more, blinking slowly. His fuzzy vision makes it hard to completely see his surroundings. He notices he is inside a lounging area, a blanket covering him and a fluffy pillow holding his neck up comfortably.

He pulled the blanket away, seeing all his wounds were dressed, and he was in only his undergarments that hid under his pants. A rush of red painted his face, feeling indecent. He moves to get up, but another sharp pain hits him, making him cough. He went to put his feet on the floor when a gasp caught his attention.

“HEY! STOP YOU’RE GOING TO POP YOUR STITCHES!!” A concerned voice made him freeze. You ran around to the front of the couch, placing both hands on his upper chest, fingers resting on his shoulders before pushing him back down onto the comforter…

His eyes grew wide watching your face contort as you spoke to him. But he doesn’t hear anything. All he is paying attention to is your beauty. The way your hair shines with sprinkles of what looks like glitter. Your skin contrasts with your outfit, making you look eternal. And your wings, resting flat on your back. The shimmer of blue on your forewings while the baby peach blends into your hindwing.

Your head tilted as you examined his wounds, he notices how cute your pointed ears look, having been decorated with jewellery. You were beautiful, a goddess. He had never felt something like this before. He was the bad guy. The quiet mysterious knight that most town folks didn’t dare to tread near. But you didn’t look at him like that. You didn’t look at him as if he were a monster. You just saw a hurt man.

“You understand!” You say sternly, making him fall out of his thoughts. He blinked a couple of times, trying to find a word that might have stuck from you, but he didn’t hear anything. You laugh watching his brain tick and find nothing, making him blush even more.

“You heard none of what I said, did you?” You giggle, crossing your arms over your chest. He just shook his head with a simple sorry.

“Stay. Don’t move, I’ll bring the food.” You got up quickly, existing towards where you came from. He sat there for a moment, confusion and wonder, mixing in his mind. All he could remember was the colour red from the blood and darkness. But now he was here, fixed up and safe…Strange.

You returned with two bowls of warm stew. Placing both on the coffee table, you move towards the largr knight, making him stiffen. You put more pillows up against the couch’s arm. Making him lean back but still sit up enough so he could eat. You place a little tray on top of his legs before putting the bowl on top and handing him a spoon.

“Eat, you’ll feel better.” You sounded like a mother caring for her sick young. You were trying to be stern, but in the tone, he knew all you were feeling was concern. Worry for a stranger you have never met, wanting nothing but to help heal him no matter his background. The silence was comforting, taking down the delicious meal. Time passed soon, finishing the meal, You got up to grab the empty dishes, heading swiftly to the kitchen. Bucky wanted to speak, but you were too quick, so he got up. Slowly, and mildly painfully, well scratched that very painfully. He leant against the kitchen door frame coughing out, making you jump.

“Oh my god, what are you doing!” You yelp, dropping the dishes back into the soapy water, immediately moving to wrap your arm, even though it doesn’t completely wrap around, his waist, helping him to sit on the chair. He wheezed out slightly, holding his lower stomach before slouching into the soft seat with emerald green cushioning and deep spruce wooden framing.

“I told you. You move, your stitches can pop, do you have a death wish or something!” You sounded angrier than you wanted, your fingers grazing over the wrapping around him, checking to if anything may have moved.

“Ha maybe.” Was the only thing he replied with. You looked him dead in the eyes with frustration. You watch the blue in his eyes shift, his pupils blow slightly. You felt a connection as if you had known him for years. The distance was suddenly hyper-aware in your mind, shifting back away from him, moving straight back to the sink.

“So…What’s your name anyway?” He asks, tilting his head slightly, trying to get your attention. You told him your name while your voice was small, watching the bubbles slowly pop away. Bucky cracked a smile, watching you intensely.

“I’m James, but everyone calls me Bucky. And I owe you a thank you.” You turned around to meet his gaze once more. Blush forms on your cheeks. You nod, smiling at him before turning your back to him, placing a bowl into the drying rack.

“I don’t need thanks. You are the one who kills those beasts. The beasts that infect my home. This forest.” You choke out, placing the last dish on the rack, and pulling the plug. Bucky clicks his tongue knowing first-hand what those feral wolves can do. Destroy crops, kill just about anything and anyone that gets in their way and leave a path of misery in their wake. You place a cup of coffee down in front of him and sit down across the table from him.

“Well James, you need to rest. You are not going anywhere until you can at least walk without anything…” You wave your hand, gesturing to his stomach, “…You know, hurting.” He laughs at your actions, taking a sip of his coffee while you do the same. Silence fell again, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comforting. A small smile was placed on both of your faces. You stared out your window, watching a small drop-lit of rainfall onto the glass, sighing in contentment. But Bucky watched you. He might not know it, and nor did you, but you had him around your finger. He was falling fast, and for once, he wasn’t scared.

—

“HEY, IT"S BUCKY!!!” Sam screamed from the edge of the billiard room, making Nat miss her shot with the pool cue. Before Nat could protest and whine, the knights started running towards the gate. Steve was there first, wrapping Bucky's arm around his shoulders to hold him up. All of his fellow knights surrounded him, spitting out questions over questions, overlapping one another.

“Okay give the man some breathing room.” Wanda pulled the two youngest away—Yelena, and Peter—letting the others move so Bucky and Stve could walk towards the castle. Once inside take, he took him straight to the infirmary to check up on his wounds. Steve was the first to break the silence.

“Where have you been? It’s been four days?” He crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side. The nurse helps Bucky remove his blouse so that she can undress his wounds. The others watch as the dressing falls off his chest, revealing a scarred semi-healed gash from just under his left nipple cross until it ends just above his pelvis. Audible gasps echoed in the infirmary, Sam leaned forward for a better look while an uproar of questions sprung again.

“Okay okay!” Steve calmed the crowd. “Answers now. We thought you were dead! For the love of god, we were contemplating whether we start planning a funeral or not!” The king sounded hurt, but who could blame him? He and the other had trouble sleeping without knowing what exactly happened.

“We found the massacre on the outside side of the woods. The five wolves are dead along with the two you left at the entrance of the forest.” Vision spoke quick, curious how he took on that many wolves.

“Five? You mean four? I only killed the four in that break of trees…” Buck said, holding the end of the bandage as the nurse dressed the wrapping around him. Then it recalled to him that when you found him, a wolf might have been there. Did you kill a wolf to save him?

“Oh, Doll…” he sighed in a whisper, making the others tilt their heads at the grumble of words.

“Who Doll?” Peter asked, only just being able to hear the older male’s voice. Bucky was frozen he didn’t want to tell his friends who you were, not cause he didn’t trust them, but if the word got out that he was saved by a creature of the forest, questions would arise and that could lead to negative theories on Steve's leadership. There was too much to risk at the moment, and only just being returned sparked all these questions. He was scared.

“I’m not dead, right, that’s the main thing. I’m fine. But I….” The nurse backs away to the desk on the side, pulling out some other dressings, but Bucky stood up, backing away from the bed. “I’m tired, but I assure you I’m not in danger anymore….”

And with that, he left in a hurry, leaving his brother confused and even more so worried.

—

Two weeks had passed since the accident, and everyone seemed to have died out of questions. None of the townsfolk speculated anything and only blessed Bucky, one of the bravest knights, was safe.

Bucky watches through the bay window in the main meeting room. An important spokesman came around to King Steve for some event that was happening. Bucky wasn’t paying attention. All that was thinking about was you.

Tonight was your meeting night. He would sneak away in the evening while everyone went off to their separate duties. The sun was low on the horizon, and most had already settled in for the night. But Buck was quick and quiet, weaving through the halls to avoid all the guards and his friends. He managed to get to the outer gate undetected, but little did he know, Nat was hot on his tail, watching his every move.

Bucky entered the dim forest, making Nat curious to remember back to the conversation she had with the others not too long ago.

“I’ve seen him. He has been sneaking out into the forest at night.” Sam states having been on guard watch the other night. The others were beginning to question where their friend was disappearing to. Bucky avoided every question and every query that was thrown his way. Everyone was becoming impatient with the mystery. So Sam and Clint devised a plan to catch Bucky out and find out exactly where he was going.

“My bet, a siren or worse, a succubus has enchanted him,” Peter says with worry, fear slipping off his tongue.

“Succubus?! You are certainly mad. I think a witch has given him a love potion.” Nat laughed.

“Maybe it’s love,” Wanda whispered making everyone turn from the table.

“Love? Pff, you’re funny.” Sam laughed but Wanda was serious, Maybe the cold-hearted and closed-off knight finally met someone who could melt his exterior. But in the end, the others were still determined to find out how. So as the sun sets and they all got set into place. Bucky doesn’t suspect a thing, entering the forest like he does every other time.

But only this time Nat and the others were close behind.

The front garden was full of lanterns lighting up the evening’s surroundings. You sat on your swinging bench while Bucky stood in front of you, telling yet another story of his adventures. He swings his sword as he focuses on this crucial part of the story, and all you can do is smile at him being so goofy. He was so perfect in your mind and you were falling every moment you spent with him. He tripped lightly, making you laugh, standing quickly to help him up, but he pulled you down, making you fall slowly as your wings stopped you from gravity. His arms snake around your waist as you both laugh. Your hands rest on his chest as you look him in his beautiful eyes. He smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I think I’ve fallen for you…” He confesses, making you blush, leaning close to him. Your lips ghost of him as your smile grows with his.

“As am I…” you reply, leaning into a kiss. His lips are soft and warm. Butterflies dance in your stomach, and your wings flutter slightly. His hand cups your face, deepening the kiss. You were so in love, and so was he. And as he sits up, he brings you with him. His hands grip your thighs, bringing you onto his lap before turning you. You fall onto the soft grass on your back with Bucky above you. Your wings lay flat, letting Buck see every detail. His fingers graze over the sheer appendage, making you let out a small sigh. Electricity crackles up your spine, almost like a burning wire in a broken fuse box. Everything was so sensitive. You couldn’t get enough. You needed more.

“James…” you whisper through his lips, mixing your breath with his before he coulc answer you, prying eyes that were watching your displays of affection caught his attention.

“What did I tell you,” Wanda states with a smile, watching his friend finally happy.

“NO WAIT, I WANTED TO WIN THE BET!!” Sam said a little too loudly, making you and Bucky hear. You sat up straight off him, hiding behind his back once he was facing where the noise was.

“Sam?” Bucky called out suddenly, seeing a small head pop out from behind the trees before yelling;

“Pretend We're not here!!!!”

Everyone laughed.

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suiseisyojo · 1 year

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"what's left of a prayer is a promise." silver knight au (inspired by the black cauldron)

ever since you were born, you knew you would never live past 17. on the day of your 18th birthday, you're destined to walk into a cauldron reeking of decay—the 'sacred' oblation passed down for generations to appease the undead gods.

since long, long ago, there existed a black cauldron. putrid billows of pitch-black mist ooze from its depths and pollutes the lands, leaving behind agony and rot.

it's the duty of those who bear 「the mark of the horned king」 to willingly walk into this cauldron at the age of 18, when the crest on their body shimmers in a wicked light, and lose their life.

↠ silver has been tasked since childhood to look after you and ensure no harm befalls you until you reach 18. over the years, the two of you have grown close. you've even garnered the love and affection of his adopted father, a retired war general, alongside another knight-in-training. even the future king, a dragon fae a hundred years older than you, has taken a liking to you. ↠ you and silver have been together through the stages of life, from childhood to adolescence. and your pure-hearted soul has enraptured him, more and more over the years. ↠ and almost suddenly, as you approach your 18th birthday, silver finds himself abhorred with himself. all this time, he's done nothing to protect you. he's been keeping you safe just for the sake of watching you cast away your life? everyone in the kingdom, asides from malleus, praises him. it disgusts him. and yet, there's nothing he can do. not even the future king can best the indestructible cauldron, but⋯ his father, malleus, even sebek, have encouraged silver to oppose fate if that's what he wishes to do.

——on your day of sacrifice, the moldering wooden plank beneath your sandals creaks with your every step. silver watches you, the maelstrom of emotions festering in his chest cavity threatening to boil over any second, and he finds tears bubbling in his eyes.

you reach the edge of the plank, your gaze peering over to espy the sickly, corroding cauldron below you; the very thing that'll defile your very soul and rip you off all the dreams you ever had.

turning around, your lips curve into a smile as your eyes go half-lidded in a serene action. and in that moment, heart broken beyond repair, silver lunges forward and tautly coils his fingers around your wrist.

"even if it’s a lie, [name], this is the part where you’re supposed to look sad. and until you do, i won’t let you die."

but is he truly someone capable of saving you—and the world he loves so much?

#concepts #shye ramblings #angst no comfort #silver twst #silver twst x reader #twst #twst x reader

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sarcasticdolphin · 2 years

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Todolf fae au. “Entertainment”

Tod is in the purple robe that Colloredo wears in Mozart das musical.

Casting is Mark!Tod and Oliver!Rudolf, but you could easily go with any other dark-haired Rudolf.

Smutty.

The shirt was like nothing he had ever seen. Six - no, seven layers of fabric, each so light it floated on the air, completely diaphanous. The outline of his shoulders, of his arms, was still visible even through all the layers. The material itself was impossibly light, spun of the faint light of the farthest stars. The layers collected with a clasp and ties at his collar, the cut so very modest - wide sleeves that billowed, gathered with detachable straps at his wrists, yet the shirt hid so little. All of Tod’s physical training was very much on display, a theme that continued into the pants, which were of the same style as the king’s - some material that could be mistaken for leather, but with far more give.

Rudolf glanced over his shoulder where the king of the fae was regarding him with some interest, the purple and gold robe open, exposing his well-muscled chest.

The lights of the palace held a spellbinding golden gloom as they made their way to the appointed room, down deserted hallways.

The room was pleasantly warm, the golden glow still pervasive from the lamps, and smelled of a heady mix of the carnal acts already underway and the potent incense that made Rudolf tip his head back, letting his eyes flutter shut as he tasted the very air itself. And the sounds - oh the sounds. Sounds of pleasure, moans and whines and grunts, purrs, and everything in between.

The fae were spread out in groups. Some as small as two, while others held six or more by Rudolf’s estimation, based on the counting of limbs. Some on settees and sofas while others were on large cushions on the floor.

Tod’s hand on the small of his back guided Rudolf up to the dais, occupied by a curtained bed, though the curtains were of sheer material.

The king reclined against the pillows and tapped the covers beside him. Rudolf knew well enough what Tod wanted him to do and clambered onto the bed, laying his head on Tod’s strong chest.

His view wasn’t the best, only a single group of three on a settee in the corner was visible, but the sounds completely made up for it.

Some melded together, but others stood out clear as day. He could hear the moans of a familiar fae - one of the manservants who dressed him - slowly crescendoing, though cut out on occasion by the cock down his throat. Rudolf glanced down the bed, toward the direction of the moans to see the fae in question, simultaneously being taken by a large blonde guard and sucked by a pale female fae that he thought was from the kitchens, while another fae that Rudolf didn’t recognize lazily stroked his cock by the manservant’s face, occasionally sliding it down his willing throat.

Rudolf looked back up at Tod, unreadable as always, before letting his eyes flicker shut and focusing on the sounds again. There were a pair of high-pitched moans in competition with each other, each reaching in a race of sorts before they were both cut off. Cocks, maybe. More likely they’d been guided to kiss each other.

Even as the sounds continue, the slick sounds of flesh on flesh more prominent now, Rudolf looks up at Tod’s handsome visage, well-chiseled, hair immaculate as always. Hesitantly he reaches one hand out to caress Tod’s chest, drawing spirals and symbols when the king permitted his touch.

He wanted, how he wanted, but that was out of the question. A different thought appeared in his mind.

“Let me dance for you.”

Tod’s expression was indulgent, and he gestured to the end of the bed.

Rudolf undid the clasp that held the layers of his shirt together and placed it on Tod’s purple and gold robe before clambering off the bed, stretching as he did so, and going to the position indicated, adjusting the curtains so there was a gap, just wide enough for him be clearly visible, unobscured by the curtains, however diaphanous they were.

He undid the cuffs, discarding the decorative velvet onto the floor as he rolled his head around, giving his shoulders one last shrug before his eyes drifted up to Tod’s. The king’s eyes were black as Rudolf let his own fall shut as his wrists came together and they rose until they were above his head. The graceful sleeves made a halo of shimmering wing-like fabric. He licked his lips. They still tasted of pomegranate.

The carnal sounds from the room became his music, Rudolf’s hips beginning to sway as his arms twirled, moving like snakes. It was heady, intoxicating.

In time his hand fell to the first tie, and the first layer fell, feather-light, a simple shimmer in the air as it floated to the floor of the dais behind him.

The twists of his hips flowed through his torso, arching to and fro as his arms bent, gracefully moving down to his chest to find the second tie, another layer falling from his shoulders, joining its fellow, pooling behind him.

He kissed the back of his own hand as the third layer fell, twirling as the fourth fluttered from his shoulders like a pair of pearlescent wings.

Rudolf’s arms arched back above his head as the fifth layer fell, the sixth quickly following it, leaving him in less than a breath of material.

His eyes found Tod’s again as he undid the tie of the final layer, letting it fall behind him.

The warm hands, one at his hip and one at his shoulder, were welcome but unexpected. Their owner used the leverage to bend Rudolf over the edge of the bed, a hardness apparent against him even as Rudolf’s eyes didn’t leave Tod’s.

Rudolf knew the exact moment the fae behind him registered who it was reclined against the pillows as the strong grip goes slack, the pressure disappearing altogether at the smallest gesture of Tod’s head.

He clambered up the bed as if he were a stalking tiger, slipping into the king’s lap and breathing into his ear.

“Let me please you. Suck you.”

Tod’s hand twines into his hair and pulled, forcing Rudolf to arch his back. His other hand traced Rudolf’s tapered ear, drawing a whine from the younger as he gave a little pinch to the tender point before continuing to trace a path, his hand moving across Rudolf’s cheek until his fingers touched Rudolf’s lips.

Rudolf let his tongue flick out hesitantly at first, a few little kitten licks before Tod slipped the fingers deeper into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. It was a heady feeling.

Tod eventually withdrew his fingers, murmuring into Rudolf’s ear. “I have a gift for you.” He shuffled them sideways on the bed and made a gesture.

A pair of fae slipped into the bed beside him, the smaller of the pair was ethereal, pale, and dark-haired. He could have been Rudolf’s brother. The other was blonde and well-built, the strength in his arms easy to see. “Watch.” Tod breathed into Rudolf’s ear.

The blonde took the smaller dark-haired fae, drawing sounds for him as the pair’s hips moved in concert. They moved and twisted together, kissing and moaning as they did. The beautiful dark-haired fae’s voice quavered as the other took him, his face contorting and eyes rolling back, the picture of ecstasy. The larger fae kept moving even as the smaller fae painted his own chest with his seed, drawing more and more sounds until the dark-haired fae came again.

They stilled then, the dark-haired fae gazing at Rudolf across Tod’s chest through half-hooded eyes. The larger blonde fae picked him up and carried him away, leaving Rudolf alone with the king.

The room was quieter now, soft moans the only noises remaining.

Rudolf nuzzled closer and pressed a gentle kiss to Tod’s cheek. “Thank you.” He could feel Tod’s mouth and cheeks forming a smile.

The king picked him up and effortlessly carried him from the room, back to their suite. The tight material around their legs was soon replaced with soft sleeping attire before Tod spooned Rudolf from behind, his arms around the younger as the familiar tones fell into his ear. Their song.

Die Schatten werden länger

#todolf fae au #todolf #very smutty #seriously I mean it #inspired by dance of the seven veils #my fic

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ja3hwa · 2 years

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Enchanted | Seonghwa

「Synopsis」 : One day when a far away kingdom gets attack a brave knight fights to save his homeland but what if he ends up nearing death only a fae can save him...

「Word count」 : 3.5k

-> Genre: Fantasy Au, Fluffy, Gore, Suggestive,

Paring: Badboy!Knight!Seonghwa x Fae!Reader

[Warnings] : Violence, heavy gore, blood, weapons, animals dying, near character death, making out.

Note: Thank you to @wavewavesworld for this very big request. I hope this is too your liking. This was super fun to make. (I lowkey wanted to make it smutty but I held back cause you didn't ask haha) but I really hope you enjoy reading it ♡

Part Two

The enchanted forest just on the outskirts of the kingdom was one of the most ancient and powerful places you could ever visit. The thick forestry was home to many magical beings, ranging from fairies, fae, nymphs, druids and more. If you walk fifteen minutes into the giant trees, you can spot a crystal clear waterfall that is said if you swim in it, a water nymph will appear and grant you wishes.

If you cast deeper inside, as the forest becomes denser, you can find a cave that houses a griffin. It has spoken he is sound asleep waiting for his master to awaken him from his enchanted slumber. The forest is beautiful inside and out but never tread too far, it may be magical and gorgeous but it's a dangerous land. The creature that hides inside can be seductive and lure you into an early gra—

"SAN! WOOYOUNG! Stop scaring the kids." King Hongjoong called from across the classroom. The young prince and princess stared in shock hearing the horrors of the forest just beyond their bedroom.

"Uncle Joong, can you tell us about the forest. Haven't you been in there yourself!" The young princess smiled at him, intrigued by the stories that were whispered in the castle. Hongjoong just chuckled, leaning against the large door frame. The two knights that were telling the stories also anticipated what their leader might say.

"Well, there was this time when—My lord three or more large wolves have entered the outskirts of the kingdom," Yunho calls out with three other knights following him close behind, Mingi and Yeosang, Jongho look out of breath having to try and keep up with the giant and his long legs.

San and Wooyoung told the kids to go find their father, Hongjoong's brother from another kingdom and wait until the threat is going. Hongjoong rounded them all up heading straight for the large entrance gates.

"Wait where is Sargent Seonghwa?!!" Hongjoong called, looking among the knights present.

Treading through the thick grass, Seonghwa wipes his brow with a bloody hand in hopes to remove the blood off his face. But it just ends up smearing it more. His amour is scratched and some of it has been torn off. His chest was exposed, but he kept his shield close, to make sure he didn't get a jump on himself.

"Where are you…" He gritted his teeth, holding his sword tightly in his grasp. He already managed to slaughter two of the rage-filled beats, but he became unsure how many exactly were left. A stick snapped behind his back, making him turn in all the speed he could conjure. But it wasn't as fast as he would have liked, being tackled down by a large black wolf. Its teeth were a mix of black, red and yellow, breath stunk of death and eyes were pitch as the night sky. It was hungry and Seonghwa was its prey.

The meadows were extra lively this fine day. The flowers were all in full bloom, making pollen dance in the cool breeze. Your cottage was warm, and the smell of leftover burnt word from last night's fire was still prominent as you snipped at some herbs in your greenhouse that was connected to your humble abode.

Placing the herbs and sorts carefully into your little grass basket you carry around, you head inside to sort them out for storage. Some things you sell in neighbouring kingdoms, and others you keep just for yourself. Placing everything on the counter you notice you're missing a few items for the meal you planned for tonight. Sighing you head upstairs to get dressed. You couldn't do without the ingredients and it was only a short walk to where you needed to go.

You put on your petty coat before laying on your fabrics. You put on a baby pink and blue with a contract of a white theme. You tie on your bodice top to make sure you avoid your shear wings. Lastly, you threw over a slitted half cloak to just cover your shoulders gifting you a little hoodie.

Grabbing your basket and bow from downstairs you slip on your shoes before heading out into the forestry you call home.

The small space away from the giant thick trees was covered in hot red blood. Two wolves were lifeless and cold, while one of their brothers still stood. It was wounded but held its ground. Seonghwa stood across from it, covered in blood. Losing count of what was his and what was the beasts. He held his stomach as the large gash that the big black wolf gave him continued to pour out streams of the crimson liquid.

He was dying.

He spat, holding his sword with both hands. If he was going down he was going to go down fighting. The wolf growled, getting ready to pounce, looking Seonghwa dead in the eyes. He ran, jumping onto Hwa, pinning in down to the damp ground. He screamed as the wolf bit into his shoulder, ripping a bit of his flesh away. It one last piece of strength, Seonghwa drove his sword into the beast's chest, his knuckles white as his grip clutched tight. The beast let out one last growl before falling onto Seonghwa, lifeless.

Seonghwa kicked the large wolf off him before leaning against a tree that sat behind him. His eyes grew heavy, feeling his breath becoming shallow. Lifting his left arm from his stomach to look at the damage. His lower half was completely covered in red, his hands painted cardinal.

"Fuck.." He choked, his eyes fuzzy unable to see his surroundings. Maybe going out on your own was a stupid idea. He thought before shutting his eyes for the final time.

A literal blood bath.

Three dead wolves and a man. Blood is painted everywhere. The whimper you heard was from a smaller wolf that has stumbled upon the massacre. Its eyes are rage-full, stalking its way towards the man that lies unconscious. Without a second thought, you drew your bow, pulling out an arrow from the quiver. You dragged the arrow, aiming for the wolf. You slowed your breathing before letting go of the stem, letting it fly straight into the jugular of the wolf, stopping it in his tracks.

It was quick and painless. You pick your feet up, letting them hover just above the forest floor, so your shoes don't get blood on them. You flap your wings, fluttering over to the man. You lean down, becoming horizontal. Your notice the gash in his chest, hissing at that state. You pop the button on your pouch grabbing out our jar of golden dust. You pinch a small amount before sprinkling some of the unconscious male.

"Let's get you cleaned up…" You sighed…

The smell of soy sauce, perilla oil, chicken broth and other spices made Seonghwa's nose twitch. He shifts slightly, gifting him a sharp pain in his abdomen. His hands flew to his stomach, letting out a hard groan. He shifted more, blinking slowly. His fuzzy vision makes it hard to completely see his surroundings. He notices he is inside a lounging area, a blanket covering him and a fluffy pillow holding his neck up comfortably.

He pulled the blanket away seeing all his wounds were dressed and he was in only his undergarments that hid under his pants. A rush of red-painted his face, feeling decant. He moves to get up but another sharp pain hits him, making him cough this think. He went to put his feet on the floor when a gasp caught his attention.

"HEY! STOP YOU'RE GOING TO POP YOUR STITCHES!!" A concerned voice made him freeze. You ran around to the front of the couch, placing both hands on his upper chest, fingers resting on his shoulders before pushing him back down onto the comforter...

His eyes grew wide watching your face contort as you speak to him. But he doesn't hear anything. All he is paying attention to is your beauty. The way your hair shines with sprinkles of what looks like glitter. Your skin contrasts with your outfit, making you look eternal. And your wings, resting flat on your back. The shimmer of blue on your forewings while the baby peach blends into your hindwing.

Your head tilted as you examine his wounds, he notices how cute your pointed ears look, having been decorated with jewellery. You were beautiful, a goddess. He has never felt something like this before, he was the bad guy. The quiet mysterious knight that most town folks didn't dare to tread near. But you didn't look at him like that. You didn't look at him as if he was a monster. You just saw a hurt man.

"You understand!" You say sternly, making him fall out of his thoughts. He blinked a couple of times trying to find a word that might have stuck from you but he didn't hear anything. You laugh watching his brain tick and find nothing making him blush even more.

"You heard none of what I said did you?" You giggle crossing your arms over your chest. He just shook his head with a simple sorry.

"Stay. Don't move, I'll bring the food." You got up quick, existing towards where you came from. He sat there for a moment, confusion and wondering mixing in his mind. All he could remember was the colour red from the blood and darkness. But now he was here, fixed up and safe…Strange.

You returned with two bowls of warm stew. Placing both on the coffee table, you move towards Seonghwa, making him stiffen. You put more pillows up against the couch's arm. Making him lean back but still sit up enough so he could eat. You place a little tray on top of his legs before putting the bowl on top, and handing him a spoon.

"Eat, you'll feel better." You sounded like a mother caring for her sick young. You were trying to be stern but in the tone, he knew all you were feeling was concern. Worry for a stranger you have never met, wanting nothing but to help heal him no matter his background. The silence was comforting, taking down the delicious meal. Time passed soon finishing the meal, you got up to grab the empty dishing heading swiftly to the kitchen. Seonghwa wanted to speak but you were too quick so he got up. Slowly, and mildly painfully, well scratched that very painfully. He leant against the kitchen door frame coughing out, making you jump.

"Oh my god, what are you doing!" You yelps, dropping the dishes back into the soapy water, immediately moving to wrap your arm, even though it doesn't completely wrap around, his waist, helping him to sit on the chair. He wheezed out slightly, holding his lower stomach before slouching into the soft seat with emerald green cushioning and deep spruce wooden framing.

"I told you. You move your stitches can pop, do you have a death wish or something!" You sounded angrier than you wanted your fingers grazing over the wrapping around him checking to if anything may have moved.

"Ha maybe." Was the only thing he replied with. You looked him dead in the eyes with frustration. You watch the brown in his eyes shift, his pupils blow slightly. You felt a connection as if you knew him for years. The distance was suddenly hyper-aware in your mind, shifting back away from him moving straight back to the sink.

"So…What's your name anyway?" He asks, tilting his head slightly, trying to get your attention.

"Y/n…" Your voice was small as you watched the bubbles slowly pop away. Seonghwa cracked a smile, watching you intensely.

"I'm Seonghwa. And I owe you a thank you." You turned around to meet his gaze once more. Blush forming on your cheeks. You nod, giving him a smile before turning your back to him, placing a bowl into the drying rack.

"I don't need thanks. You are the one that kills those beasts. The beasts that infect my home. This forest." You choke out, placing the last dish on the rack, and pulling the plug. Seonghwa clicks his tongue knowing first-hand what those feral wolves can do. Destroy crops, kill just about anything and anyone that get in their way and leave a path of misery in their wake. You place a cup of coffee down in front of him and sit down across the table from him.

"Well Seonghwa, You need to rest. You are not going anywhere until you can at least walk without anything…" You wave your hand, gesturing to his stomach, "…You know, hurting." He laughs at your actions taking a sip of his coffee while you do the same. Silence fell again but it wasn't awkward, it was comforting. A small smile was placed on both of your faces. You stared out your window watching a small drop-lit of rainfall onto the glass, sighing in contentment. But Seonghwa watched you, he might of not know it and neither did you, but you had him around your finger. He was falling fast and for once, he wasn't scared.

"HEY, IT"S SEONGHWA!!!" Mingi screamed from the edge of the billiard room making San miss his shot with the pool cue. Before San could protest and whine the members started running towards the gate. Hongjoong was there first, wrapping Seonghwa's arm on his shoulders to hold him up. All of his fellow knights surrounded him, spitting out questions over questions, overlapping one another.

"Okay give the man some breathing room." Yeosang pulled the two youngest away letting the others move so Seonghwa and Joong could walk towards the castle. Once inside take took him straight to the infirm to check up on his wounds. Joong was the first to break the silence.

"Where have you been? It's been four days?" He crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side. The nurse helps Seonghwa remove his blouse so that she can undress his wounds. The members watch as the dressing falls off his chest revealing a scarred semi-healed gash from just under his left nipple cross until it ended just above his pelvis. Audible gasps echoed in the infirmary, San lent forward for a better look while an uproar of questions sprung again.

"Okay okay!" Hongjoong calmed the crowd. "Answers now. We thought you were dead! For the love of god we were contemplating whether we start planning a funereal or not!" Hongjoong sounded hurt but who could blame him. He and the other had trouble sleeping without knowing what exactly happened.

"We found the massacre on the outside side of the woods. The five wolves are dead along with the two you left in the entrance of the forest." Yeosang snickered curious how he took on that many wolves.

"Five? You mean four? I only killed the four in that break of trees…" Seonghwa spoke holding the end of the bandage as the nurse dressed the wrapping around him. Then it recalled to him when you found him a wolf might have been there. Did you kill a wolf to save him?

"Oh, Y/n…" he sighed in a whisper making the others tilt there heads at the grumble of words.

"Who y/n?" Jongho asked, only just being able to hear the older male's voice. Seonghwa was frozen he didn't want to tell his brothers who you were, not cause he didn't trust them, but if the word got out that he was saved by a creature of the forest, questions will arise and that could lead to negative theories on Hongjoong leadership. There was too much to risk at the moment and only just being returned sparked all these questions. He was scared.

"I'm not dead, right, that's the main thing. I'm fine. But I…." the nurse backs away to the desk on the side pulling out some other dressings but Seonghwa stood up backing away from the bed.

"I'm tired but I assure you I'm not in danger anymore…." and with that he left in a hurry, leaving his brother confused and even more so worried.

Two weeks have passed since the accident and everyone had seem to have died out of questions. None of the townsfolk speculated anything and only blessed Seonghwa, one of the bravest knights, was safe.

Seonghwa watches through the bay window in the main meeting room. An important spokesman came around for king Hoongjoong, for some event that was happening. Seonghwa wasn't paying attention, all that was thinking about was you.

Tonight was your meeting night. He would sneak away in the evening while everyone went off to their separate duties. The sun was low on the horizon, most have already settled in for the night. But Seonghwa was quick and quiet, weaving through the halls to avoid all the guards and his brothers. He managed to get to the outer gate undetected but little did he know, Yeosang was hot on his tail, watching his every move.

Seonghwa entered the dim forest, making Yeosang curious to remember back to the conversation he had with the others not too long ago.

"I've seen him. He has been sneaking out into the forest at night." Jongho states having been on guard watch the other night. The boys were beginning to question where their brother was disappearing to. Seonghwa avoided every question and every query that was thrown his way. Everyone was becoming impatient with the mystery. So Mingi and Yunho devised a plan to catch Seonghwa out and find out exactly where Seonghwa was going.

“My bet, a siren or wore a succubus has enchanted him,” San says with worry, fear slipping off his tongue.

“Succubus?! You are certainly mad. I think a witch has given him a love potion.” Jongho laughed.

“Maybe it’s love,” Yeosang whispered making everyone turn from the table.

“Love? Pff you’re funny.” Mingi laughed but Yeosang was serious, maybe the cold-hearted and closed off knight finally met someone that can melt his exterior. But in the end, the brothers were still determined to find how. So as the sun sets and the boys all get set into place. Seonghwa doesn’t suspect a thing, entering the forest like he does every other time.

But only this time Yeosang and the others were close behind.

The front garden was full of lanterns lighting up the evening's surroundings. You sat on your swinging bench while Seonghwa stands in front of you telling yet another story of his adventures. He swings his sword as he focuses on this crucial part of the story but all you could do was smile at him being so goofy. He was so perfect in your mind and you were falling every moment you spent with him. He tripped lightly, making you laugh, standing quickly to help him up but he pulls you down, making you fall slowly as your wings stopped you from gravity. His arms snake around your waist as you both laugh. Your hands rest on his chest as you look him in his beautiful eyes. He smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I think I’ve fallen for you…” He confesses, making you blush, leaning close to him. Your lips ghost of him as your smile grows with his.

“As am I…” You reply leaning into a kiss. His lips are soft and warm. Butterflies dance in your stomach, your wings flutter slightly. His hand cups your face deepening the kiss. You were so in love and so was he. He sits up, bringing you with him. His hands grip your thighs bringing you onto his lap before turning you. You fall onto the soft grass on your back with Seonghwa above you. Your wings lay flat letting Seonghwa see every detail. His fingers graze over the sheer appendage, making you let out a small sigh. Electricity crackles up your spine, almost like a burning wire in a broken fuse box. Everything was so sensitive. You couldn’t get enough you needed more.

“Hwa…” You whisper through his lips, mixing your breath with his before he could answer you, prying eyes that were watching your displays of affection caught his attention.

“What did I tell you,” Yeosang states with a smile, watching his brother finally happy.

“NO WAIT I WANTED TO WIN THE BET!!” San said a little too loudly making you and Seonghwa hear. You sat up straight off him, hiding behind his back once he was facing where the noise was.

“San?” Seonghwa called out suddenly seeing a small head pop out from behind the trees before yelling;

“Pretend I’m not here!!!!” Everyone laughed.

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britishassistant · 3 years

Note

I wonder what the supervillains (the dorm leaders) would do if they get switched with their other self in Twisted Wonderland.

They'll meet a younger Yuu calls them senpai and probably get shivers when they hear someone shout Prefect but then realize its Yuu's role in that world.

Bonus would be if Yuuken's there too, sharing the dorm with Yuu.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

I decided to take a little inspo from my Villainous Paranoiac series for this one! Not a whole lot, but the idea of Twisted Wonderland Yuu being put in the infirmary after the events of Chapter Five!

(Also consider it non-canon, since it kinda involves everyone’s identities being exposed!)

Basically imagine that the supervillains find themselves in what looks like a private school infirmary, late at night. The air is buzzing with a strange energy, almost like the powers back in their home world, but...different, somehow.

The room nearly empty, save for one occupant in a cot close to the door.

Poison Queen and King immediately begin bickering over whose fault this mess is, while Royal Flush tries to get them to keep their voices down or else they’ll be detected. Charon is half a minute from going to curl up in a corner, clutching his freeze ray like a lifeline, while Octo Dealer and Snake Charmer are busy inspecting their surroundings for anything of value or that can be requisitioned into a weapon on short notice.

Tsunotaro has wandered over to inspect the sole other living being in the room with them.

He is pleasantly surprised to see what looks like a younger version of the reporter he’s so fond of, fast asleep in the infirmary cot. Their cheeks still retain the last bit of baby fat from childhood, and there’s some acne left that will fade with age. He may give one cheek a gentle poke, just to satisfy his curiosity. The sleepy mumble they let out is a little more high pitched than normal, but that’s the reporter’s voice alright.

He is less pleased to see dark circles under their eyes, or the bandages around their throat that stink of medicinal salves. If this truly is a younger version of his child of man, then why do they look so worried, even in sleep? Why are they injured and sleeping in this place of healing in the first place? They’re a mere child, barely old enough to operate a vehicle or live alone. Their only worries should be trivial things, not whatever is causing this furrow in their brow and hunch in their shoulders.

The other supervillains have begun to migrate over to where Tsunotaro is crouching in silent contemplation. King flips his eyepatch up to get a better look, whistling lowly. Octo Dealer busies himself with refilling their water glass, sneaking glances at them as he places it within easy reach. Snake Charmer pulls their pillow more under their head from where it’s almost slipped off. Poison Queen straightens the arrangement of the very tasteful bouquet on the bedside table, so the flowers’ best angle is shown to the bed’s occupant. Royal Flush carefully tucks their covers in over them.

Charon takes a picture with his tablet.

He forgot to turn off his flash.

Yuu cracks their eyes open...

To see seven adults looming over their bed in masks that resemble the ink from the overblots that haunt the Prefect’s nightmares.

Cue terrified screaming.

Snake Charmer lunges forward instinctively to cover Yuu’s mouth—

It’s only thanks to Poison Queen yanking him back that he doesn’t end up with an arrow in the shoulder.

Several more follow the first one through the window above the prefect’s cot, cold iron sharp and perfectly aimed to seriously maim if the supervillains don’t immediately get away from the screaming teenager. Rook was lax in protecting the Trickster after VDC ended, assuming there was no more danger after Roi du Poison’s overblot was saved. He will not make that mistake again.

The infirmary doors burst open, a younger Yuuken in a sleep-rumpled uniform barging in from where he decided to sleep outside because Ramshackle felt too empty and quiet to bear, but was forbidden from staying in the infirmary himself. He only has a pillow, but he brandishes it at the strange adults, fully willing to defend his dorm mate in whatever way he can.

The vanguard appears in a flurry of bats though, too many to fight off, small and vicious and furious. Their commander materializes in the center if the swarm, hovering over the head of Yuu’s cot, pink eyes brimming with a cold rage that makes his small and cute form look like it’s bursting at the seams holding something much older and angrier back. He opens his mouth, fangs long and glistening—

Only to stop short at the sight of one of the supervillains. “Malleus? Malleus Draconia?”

Tsunotaro nods warily.

“Wh-What in Twisted Wonderland are you wearing??”

Tsunotaro ducks his head like a chastened child. “I could say the same thing.” He mutters sullenly.

From there the lights get turned on, and the seven supervillains are made to explain themselves to the sleep-deprived students and staff who trickle in to see what’s going on. All six dorm leaders and one vice dorm leader vanished from their beds, setting everyone on high alert until news of these...alternate versions spread.

It is very weird for the supervillains to see all their minions as teenagers (again in some cases). It is only surpassed by how weird it is for everyone else to see their dorm heads and vice head all grown up and adult, even if they are dressed weird.

Ortho still wants to shoot them with a beam until they bring back his nii-san. Luckily Charon is able to convince him that Idia should be fine if he’s in Charon’s lair—he’s got plenty of the latest games, manga and tech for him to play with, so that should keep him occupied for a while.

Sebek is in a state of Malleus awe. He has shut down and will not restart. Silver has taken to pinching himself just to make sure this isn’t a Lilia’s cooking induced fever dream, while Lilia himself scolds Tsunotaro that he raised him better than to go around watching people sleep like that! Tsunotaro tries to use the “but I’m a supervillain” excuse, only for Lilia to shoot back “and I’m a war criminal in some nations, what’s your point?”

King is enjoying watching the overgrown lizard get scolded. Now if only the tiny Ruggie would stop asking him what injury the eyepatch is for, and making remarks about how embarrassing it would be if it were totally pointless—King does not pay his adult self so much to put up with this shit. The baby Jack also needs to stop demanding to know if his adult minion self can pull a sled faster than a moose or something...

Jade and Floyd are attempting to wind up the adult Octo Dealer, trying to see how much they can get away with compared with the normal Azul. Octo Dealer is legitimately at a loss as to how this world’s Azul doesn’t keep them in line without letting them turn to a crime or two. Then he learns about Azul’s contract business and feels a pang of commiseration and understanding.

Poison Queen, Royal Flush, and Snake Charmer are unpleasantly shocked when their dorms address them by their respective secret identities in front of their fellow supervillains out of the blue.

Poison Queen has to put up with King’s uncontrolled laughter as he finally understands the full extent of the incident with White Neige so long ago, while Tsunotaro tries to tell him he liked Schoenheit in his role as the evil dragon prince in the GaoGao dramatization. Royal Flush is about two seconds away from throttling Octo Dealer if the bastard doesn’t stop trying to make a deal to guarantee his mother doesn’t learn about her son’s private activities. Snake Charmer’s just glad his civilian identity flies under the radar enough that Charon has to try and look him up to understand who he is (and fails because he’s not on school wifi and his cellular data is bust).

Poison Queen is also getting a headache from Rook rhapsodizing about how his villain form is another, enhanced mode of beauty he is fortunate to lay eyes upon, as if he hadn’t been willing to skewer Poison Queen along with the rest of the supervillains five minutes ago. He’s at least able to amuse himself by letting Epel run away with his speculations about how he’s the buff hyper-masculine muscle for Poison Queen.

Kalim is crying that Jamil had to resort to becoming a villain in his home world! He must be so sad if he has to do that! He’s mildly cheered up when Snake Charmer tells him they work together on schemes, and that Snake Charmer is actually reasonably happy with his chosen vocation—and then he begins panicking that Jamil will like that world so much, he won’t want to come back.

Royal Flush is glad his counterpart at least has good people around to look after him, even if it is odd to have young versions of Trey and Cater trying to mother hen him despite the fact that he’s the older one now. At least Ace and Deuce acting up seems more fitting now considering their age than it ever did on their adult selves.

Ace huffs a sigh and leans on Yuu’s shoulder. “This is a mess, huh Prefect?”

“You said it.” Yuu replies. “I just wanna sleep forever.”

The supervillains go still.

“I’m sorry,” Snake Charmer says carefully. “But isn’t Enma-san the Prefect?”

“No?” Yuuken replies, confused. “Yuu’s the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. I’m their vice— or would be, if we had any other students apart from them, me, and Grim.”

Octo Dealer laughs, sounding slightly strained. “Ah, apologies, but you see, that isn’t possible. It can’t be. Yuu isn’t—”

“But I am the prefect, Azul-senpai.” Yuu the Prefect says. “I’ve–I’ve always been the prefect.”

There’s a stunned silence.

Royal Flush places his head in his hands. “What the fuck.”

Back in the Supervillain AU universe, Yuu the Reporter sneezes sharply while trying to wrangle five frightened teenagers, one frightened-but-playing-tough twenty year old, and one confused however-old-he-is-but-younger-than-Tsunotaro fae.

They wonder what the chill down their spine is.

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Text

Beneath the Blackthorn Tree: a Sesskag fanfic

Summary: The man smiled then, in a way that seemed ill-fitting for such a blank, porcelain face- all white teeth and glinting eyes. It was not a smile that assured Kagome. "Well met, dear one," he uttered, voice gliding rich and velvety into her ear canal.

Something niggled in the back of Kagome's mind, blue eyes widening. "Well met." --- Or: When the Fae King is owed something, he will always collect the payment. Even if it takes centuries. Fae King Sesshoumaru fic. Sesskag AU.

---

Don't expect updates right away from this one- I just wanted to post it because I held a poll a while ago about more Monster Sesskag AU's and this concept won, so I wanna reassure people I'm working on it lol. Those who asked for it were: @missidiotmakka @saviorclaire @cookieasylum @aizawa-slaysmee @frost-guardian @liz8080 @vanishaa @akinaichan @all-my-cuffs-have-buttons @shamelessruinsfury @shastuhh @mrfeenysmustache @veroblubell @thesoaringaquila

Read here: Ao3, fanfic.net or Dokuga

Beneath the Blackthorn Tree

- chapter one -

"Buyo!"

Kagome huffed, lingering in the threshold of her home. Tightening a fluffy dressing gown around her, she shuddered a little from the chilly night air, closing the door behind her lest too much heat escape.

"Buyooo!" calling out again, she squinted, staring into pitch-black nothingness beyond the safety of their porch light. Silence answered her.

"Damn cat," grabbing her shoes with a string of grumbles, she roughly tugged them on and stepped outside. It was far too chilly to leave her out for the night, and besides, Buyo usually always came running the second they rattled her cat bowl.

The fifteen-year-old shuffled into murky darkness, making encouraging kitty calling noises and continuing to search for her dumb, sweet, dumpling feline.

Kagome shivered, rubbing her arms and glancing behind her. The comforting doorway of their humble house seemed much too far away, despite Kagome having not ventured too far into Higurashi Shrine's open courtyard. Everything lay far too still, quiet.

There were no insects chirping, no distant sounds from the city. It was as though someone had placed a huge dome over their house, sealing off all breezes or noise. It felt stifling; shadows hanging thick in the corners of her vision. Rippling. Expanding. Breathing.

Kagome turned her head slowly, staring into the endless void. Her heartbeat picked up. Quickening breath fanned out as visible plumes of mist. Goosebumps raised on her flesh. She gained the unsettling sense that she was being watched.

"Reow!"

Stiffening, she faced the sound's direction. "Buyo? Here kitty," she called, breathing a sigh of relief. Geeze, she'd gotten worked up for nothing. Stepping forward, Kagome wandered towards a large, lonely tree, guided by moonlight as it finally peeked out from behind thick, rolling clouds. Grandpa respectfully called it 'the sacred tree' but there was no need to heed any words from a guy who sold plastic charms and called them enchanted.

Reaching the Goshinboku, Kagome rounded its side, continuing her noises of encouragement to lure Buyo closer.

A strange luminous glow brightened the tree from within. Where before she'd thought it was moonlight lightening its branches, she stiffened upon realising how its bark radiated a soft blue shine. Power thrummed- pushing through her like a ripple on the tide.

Kagome stopped the second she caught sight of a child.

Their back was turned to her, hair short and snowy white. When they turned- startlingly clear, bright blue eyes immediately connected with hers. The boy shifted to face her, holding Buyo in his arms, who purred contentedly.

"O-oh...hello?" Kagome blinked, eyeing his clothing. What strange white robes. She got the sense he was Japanese, and yet his features were so pale and flawless. Not a hint of sunshine or blemishes touched his cherubic face- so much that he seemed eerily otherworldly. Too perfect. Human children didn't stand so completely still with calculating, predatory gazes, and was it her imagination- or were there tiny stumps peering out from his head? Like small, barely there horns.

The boy, who seemed to be around the age of six, stared at her quietly.

"Are you lost?" she asked, putting his strangeness aside. "I can call your parents to come pick you up if you know their number. If not, we should probably go inside," Kagome forced a smile. "It's chilly, right? You can keep holding Buyo if you want."

He blinked long white lashes, expression unchanging. He shifted closer.

"Kairi."

The boy stopped, glancing towards Goshinboku where a silky, deep voice had resounded from. Magenta stripes curling around the wrist of a pale hand caught Kagome's attention as it appeared from behind the tree, beckoning him with a lazy curl of sharp fingernails.

"Leave her be. That is not your mother," amusement coloured the masculine tone. "At least, not as you know her."

Kairi sighed, pouting. He let Buyo jump down- his necklace swaying from the motion, catching Kagome's eye. It had a strange symbol on it. She got the sense it did not belong to her homeland.

Kairi reached out to the hand, accepting it.

"Wait-!" she called, hurrying closer. "Hang on a second!"

Kairi glanced at her, pretty blue eyes glinting, smiling. The ghostly, long-fingered hand holding his own tugged- causing the boy to disappear behind the tree.

Quickly rounding its side, Kagome stopped. He'd disappeared, leaving not a trace behind. Even the tree's eerie glow had died down.

She sucked in a startled breath, having forgotten to breathe. Buyo padded away towards their house, leaving the high school girl to gawk alone. Sounds started to filter back into her hearing, crickets softly chirping. Humidity settled into previously chilled air, as though warmth had been briefly stolen, and then returned to the night.

Kagome never saw the boy again after that fateful night in the middle of July, nor the pale hand with its striped magenta wrist. Nothing unusual happened with their old tree. Buyo was the only one who knew about the bizarre experience, which was hardly a comfort.

And so Kagome placed it into the furthest reaches of her mind, putting it on a dusty shelf alongside her unused algebra knowledge. For ten years it remained untouched. Unexplored.

Until one day Yuka, one of her close high school friends- was flicking through a magazine. She wanted to hold her wedding in Ireland since her fiance had family there on his mother's side and a change in scenery sounded exotic.

"What do you think of this venue? We decided on holding the wedding in this area yesterday."

Kagome looked up from her wedding duties that consisted of choosing flower arrangements, stiffening.

"C-can I see that for a minute?"

"Hm, sure?" Yuka passed it over, stretching atop her bed and sighing. "You're definitely coming, right? I know it's hours away, but I'm seriously so excited to hold the ceremony somewhere unique. Eri is going to be majorly jealous."

Kagome stared at the familiar symbol carved into a dead-looking blackthorn tree, sitting alone within a forest. It was such a strange, out of place photo amongst the ones trying to sell Ireland to foreigners as part of a holiday package. All sprawling green hillsides, cliff sides and groups of medieval buildings situated on an outcrop of limestone.

"Yeah…" she murmured, an old memory slightly shaking to life. "I'll come."

#Sesskag #Inuyasha #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #Sesshoumaru #Kagome Higurashi #sesskag fanfiction #Monster boyfriend

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broadwaytheanimatedseries · 4 years

Text

Erasing The Empire AU:

In a far away kingdom from a time long forgotten, there is a magical forest who's inhabitants were starting to worry that the kingdom their home resides in is going to destroy their forest, should they continue with their harmful ways of war and violence.

And so, the magical communities of the forest came together to decide what to do, and the idea of negotiating with the humans came up. Most of them thought it was ridiculous, but one of the unicorns spoke.

"I believe if you were to allow me to put together a team, we could act as an emissary of the forest and have an agreement settled with the kingdom, in no more than three moon cycles, maybe less."

Everyone was shocked at the unicorn's bold claims, and the queen of the fae raised her brows, skeptical. "that is a very big promise, Unicorn. Are you wasting our precious time with boastful, empty words, or are you willing to let yourself be held accountable to this promise?"

"I am. I know what my capabilities are and the only thing I need is a team. How much time I can save us under three cycles is entirely dependent on the team I can assemble."

"very well, Unicorn. I shall allow you to meet with my court, so that you may decide which of them you wish to take with you on this quest. Just one last question, what is your name?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, the same as she had at him, and cracks the smallest smirk. "you may call me Logan, if you wish to refer to me by something other than Unicorn."

Once he had chosen the smartest fae in the queen's court, the two had gone back to the rest of the forest to recruit their last member. They knew it was a very narrow representation of the creatures of the forest, but they were trying to save their home quickly and efficiently, not fill the king's palace with magical beings.

However, they soon found that not many people wanted to be on a team with a fae and a unicorn. "well this is tragically amusing." the fae chimed unhelpfully.

"I really don't see what's amusing about this, Deceit." Logan responded to the fae, his yellow wings flapping with no regard for how they were repeatedly hitting Logan's side.

"you don't? Oh but it's so obvious. You spent hours in the court, picking and choosing until you found the right fae for the job, and now it looks like you're gonna have to settle for whatever miserable sap of a creature comes your way, otherwise I don't see how you're getting an emissary together anytime soon!"

Just as Logan was about to argue back, a cloaked figure with gleaming red eyes and sharp teeth, that seemed to be illuminated by some dim light, approached them in a hurry.

As the figure came closer, Logan realized to his dismay that he recognized who it was.

"are you by chance the unicorn and faerie leaving the forest on a mission to talk to the king?"

Logan and Deceit glanced at each other, before Deceit smirked, causing Logan to roll his eyes and choke back an annoyed sigh.

"yes, we are. Why do you ask?"

"because I want to join you! Please?"

"Roman, while I appreciate your enthusiasm, this is a diplomatic mission. It's not going to be an epic battle adventure where you go out into the world and defeat the villain and save some damsel in distress, or whatever it is that you do on your escapades out of the forest. This is a serious task that must be handled with caution and precision."

"wow, Logan. Good to know you think so lowly of me. You think I don't know how to act in a socially tense situation? My brother creates those twice a day for me to deal with! You think you know anything about how the humans act or think? You never leave the forest! I might not have the best reputation in the kingdom, but at least they know who I am. Face it, Specs. You need me."

Logan was absolutely shook. He did not expect Roman to bring up so many valid points that he was now ashamed to realize he hadn't even considered. He knew nothing of the humans! What was he thinking, going into this mission so unprepared?

He knew what he was thinking. He wanted to be heared, to finally be listened to for once, and to have his words be taken seriously.

And because of that, he put the fate of the entire forest on the line.

As Logan breathed deeply, he decided to push down those thoughts. They could be dealt with later, Roman could not.

"you're right. I'm sorry to have offended you, you're welcome to join if you still wish it."

Roman was confused for a second, not used to having things go his way when arguing with Logan. The two weren't friends by any means but they both lived in the forest and so their paths had crossed on several occasions. But this was the first time Logan was willing to concede to him so easily.

He soon got over his confusion, however, as the realization that he would be spending the next three months at the kingdom set in, replacing his confusion with joy.

"oh thank you, thank you, thank you! This is gonna be the most epic adventure! But serious and precise, of course. But still, EPIC!"

Logan did sigh heavily that time, as Deceit just chuckled in amusement.

As they were about to head out that night, they were stopped by a giant dragon, his green scales shimmering in the moonlight and his green eyes dark and menacing.

"and where do you think you're going, little creatures?"

It growled in a deep, unsettling voice.

"oh cut it out, Remus! I'm going to talk to the king and there's nothing you can do to stop me!" Roman yelled at the terrifying beast like a bratty child.

Remus transformed into his humanoid form and scowled at his twin brother

"fine, then I'm coming with you. And there's nothing you can do to stop me." he replies, voice snarky and much higher pitched, almost the complete opposite of his voice in dragon form.

Seeing as all three of them saw exactly what Remus's true form looks like, no one could really argue against that.

And so, the four set off on a journey to the kingdom, knowing they would arrive at the castle within three days.

But even making it to the castle was going to be an adventure all on its own, otherwise what kind of fairytale story would this be?

Stay Tuned...

#dee writes #sanders sides #sanders sides au #dee's aus #fantasy au #high fantasy au #erasing the empire au #EtE au #Unicorn! Logan #Fae! Deceit #Dragon Witch! Roman #Dragon! Remus #to be continued

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years

Text

TEASER

Kim Namjoon/Reader [F]

Genre: fae au, fantasy/magic, oberon!namjoon, human!reader, rebellion, angst, romance,

Warning(s)!!: violence/injuries, pollution?, corrupt gov., cursing, vomiting blood, nudity

Words: tbd

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble [Rated: T]

a/n: i’ve been working on this story almost nonstop the past two days and it’s growing A LOT in length. If it get too long then I may divide it into two parts (unless you guys want a monster lol). along with i’m debating on adding a couple scenes I didn’t originally attend to that may raise the rating >>’’ bUT that is still up in the air. this story isn’t on a lot of people’s radar and ik that, but I’m so so so invest in this story rn it’s taken place as my main wip atm LOL. I also am putting a lot of effort into proper world building and even if it’s tedious, i’m happy so far uwu

summary: A world were oceans never existed, but in its place were large and vast forests. Covering 75% of the world’s surface, the seven deep forests were a mystery that no one could solve. Treading too far in was forbidden by law, the forest too dangerous with unknown entities inside. Y/n knew better than to do something like go inside, but after a heist to stop the government from polluting the forests, things turn grim. She finds herself waking up in a place she doesn’t know with things far less human and far more magical than the world she’s used to. She finds herself being cared for by someone who claimed he can help her back to her home. Along the way, however, she may just learn something magical about herself that not even a King could have predicted.

[TEASER W.COUNT: 1.4K]

You twitched as you sucked in a sharp breath. Your body shivered lightly as you peeled open your eyes. Your skin felt dry and patchy from the water that had dried onto your skin and the mud that dried into dirt and covered your exposed flesh. Looking up, you only saw the dark sky with patches. It looked cloudy as rays of faint light peeked through them.

Wincing, you curled your body inwards and lifted your arms to try and cross over your stomach. You moved just a moment before you were already exhausted and dropped your limbs back down. You squinted upwards as your body ached. The last thing you remembered was you had fallen into the river and slammed into a rock. It explained your aching head and sore back. Taking a breath, you moved to roll onto your side before you forced yourself to lever yourself onto your forearm.

Your legs twisted as you then took sharp bursts of breath before pulling your legs up towards your chest. Holding your body up with weak, shaking arms, you moved to your forearms and knees. Hunched over, you breathed heavy and winced in pain. Your head throbbed as you crawled forward and hooked your fingers onto a piece of a jutted out tree trunk.

You tried to hoist yourself up to your feet by purely your upper arm strength, but quickly gave up with a shake of your head and a pain laced whine.

Your bare toes scraped in the grass as dirt gathered under your toenails and your torn clothes threatened to snag in the tree trunk. Your hair matted on the back of your head as the water had weaved it into tangles that were begging to be brushed through.

You kept your head held down as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather every small piece of mental encouragement you could to get yourself up on your feet. Mind over matter seemed to be harder than it had been in the past. Biceps bulging and stomach tensing, you tried time after time to get your weak, shaking knees to hold up the rest of your body.

Falling back to the dirt and into the trunk for the fifth time, you sat full down, feet trapped under your rear as your hands reached above your head, cursing yourself for being weak. The wind picked up and the sounds it created made your skin prick with gooseflesh. The trees moaned as the wind whispered and cried.

For some reason, it was only when the wind spoke did you realize exactly where you were undoubtedly located. Your weak grip on the trunk weakened further as your fingers trembled and your lip was sucked between your teeth. Your body shook, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to the chilled air or the fear of being in a place you knew hardly anything of.

You were lost somewhere in one of the deep forests and you couldn’t be more afraid.

Hearing the crunching of leaves, you sucked in a breath and whipped your head up to look for danger around you and froze, seeing indeed something. Directly in front of you was pure white with a stripe of red staring dead at you. Gasping you pushing yourself off the tree trunk and back onto your ass as your body acted purely on fleeing, dragging yourself through dirt and grass trying to back away from whatever was in front of you.

A walking stick of wood at their side and a mask covering their face. No shirt and only fur coating his waist and legs as he walked barefoot. The grass beneath his feet seemed healthier and brighter than the rest around and you kept staring at the antlers branching out from the sides of his head.

“No!” You breathed in fear as your body collapsed backward and you could only wave your arms around in a pathetic display of defense. “No, go away! Go away!” Your eyes stung as your panic clenched painfully in your chest as you grew more and more breathless. Falling to your side, you curled up in terrified, painful trembles. Your eyes were frozen open as you covered your face with your arms as you heard whatever it was come close to you. You felt them at your back as they knelt. You whimpered when it was silent and jumped when they touched your back.

You gasped as you whipped your head to look back at them and you stilled. Their hand on your back was warm and somehow, your trembling stopped. They had set their walking stick aside on the ground as they traced their hand around the exposed skin of yours that your clothes showed.

You weren’t sure why their touch seemed to calm you. You felt like an animal being tamed as your body seemed to relax. They leaned over your body as they pulled you back on your back from your side and held your stomach down to keep you from acting up again.

“Be calm,” they spoke. A voice deep of a man that was smooth that made your cheeks redden. It was terribly seductive like nothing you've heard before. Raising one hand to their mask, they pushed it up their forehead to rest it on their head and reveal their faces. Your breath halted at this man’s beauty. Skin smooth and decorated in golden freckles. Eyes sparkling in a hue of the clearest blue and teeth white as snow with pointed canines. “I will not harm you unless you harm me.”

This man was nothing like you.

“I-I,” you couldn’t form words as you could only gaze at him. His brows arched as he saw something in your human eyes. He had been looking after your sleeping body for 2 days and he had plenty of time to inspect you. Humans were far different than him. Your eyes were astonishingly different from anything he’s ever seen, yet they were the most gorgeous. Something in them zapped with an energy he’d seen only once before in one other being.

“Can you stand?” He asked as you gasped again at your staring. You looked at your legs as they twitched and you steeled yourself into pulling them up towards your chest again. With the man’s help, you sat up and rubbed at your legs like they would help them hold your own weight. “Do you know how to walk, human?”

“Of course I do!” You screeched in an outburst that led to a coughing fit. “O-of course I do,” you repeated. “It’s just… difficult right now.”

“What about your arms?” He asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Your arms.” He repeated. “Are they strong enough to hold your body?”

“Well, I don’t know.” The man just remained silent as he moved in front of you. He grabbed your wrists and lifted your arms up. Pulling you closer to him, you squawked when he turned himself around and pulled your arms over his shoulders. Your chest pushed against his back before he put your palms together, encouraging you to clasp your hands. He moved to grab the walking stick at his side before he started standing up. “Woah, hey, hey!” You panicked, unsure if you would be able to hold onto him and not slide back down off this back in a pathetic heep.

You clutched your own hands at his chest, your arms looped around to his front tensing before he was standing tall. His stick was placed under your rear, supporting you as he held it up under you like a seat. Your weak legs dangling in front of him on either side of his naked waist.

He hiked you up further on his back so your chin rested on his shoulder by his neck. You could see the bone white antlers of his and see small engravings in them you didn’t notice before. His ears were slightly pointed and darkened at their point now that you saw them under his shaggy pitch-black hair. He turned to look at you, his freckled face closer to yours and electric blue eyes freezing your breath.

“I will take you someplace to recover. The Leaflets will tend to your injuries.” He knocked his head forward, his mask falling back over his eyes and covering the top half of his face. He then began to walk forward. You watched as he walked flawlessly over the grassy terrain and how grass would bloom under his steps only to wither the moment he lifts his foot up to step somewhere new.

-x-x-x-

a/n: was that good enough as a teaser? I had so many places and scenes I could tease but I went with this one towards the beginning alksdfjad lmk if you’re excited to read this fic! (pls it’ll boost my morale LOL)

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sicprowl · 5 years

Text

Gleann na Dùin ~ 2 ~

Fairy AU - Dimileth

Co-written with @hiddenfangirling

Part 1

Now on AO3

Dimitri didn't even notice the slight pitches of the flute that came from each and every direction; a noise that made Byleth feel on edge the closer they got to her home. Normally, the King would question such behavior and find it suspicious but...

"There," Byleth gestured through the trees at a small, modest cabin and a barn next to it. "Father should be finished with dinner by now."

Dimitri swallowed, his mouth suddenly watering at the smell of potatoes and meat. Perhaps he could eat a little for his journey...

The lass turned to look at him, her eyes practically sparkling like star-light and making Dimitri realize that such dazzling eyes were not normal. Finally, he found himself all too aware of her slightly too large eyes, pert and lovely mouth, the pointed tips of her ears, and the soft glow her hair that seemed to radiate as the sun starts to set.

"I'm sure we'll have enough if you're hungry. You'll need the energy after a long day."

He stopped dead in his tracks. Suddenly, the reality of where Dimitri is crashed down on him like the side of a mountain. Gleann na Duin, this forest was said to have been haunted by fairies for ages. The villagers nearby used stories of this place to scare their children. Dimitri believed in the Fair Folk, had heard many of the tales himself, but he had grown up in Fhirdiad, a city far from anywhere that would be touched by the fae. He hadn't heeded the warnings, or even thought to. Even as he stared dumbstruck at the woman in front of him, the spitting image of some of the pictures the King remembered from books in his childhood, he was having trouble believing.

Had he struck his head? Was Dimitri dreaming somewhere on the forest floor, still well within earshot of Dedue? He honestly hoped so. The stories didn't often have good endings for men who trespassed on fae lands.

Dimitri had dropped his arm from Byleth’s hand when he stopped. She stared up at him, a mild look of wounded confusion on her face. Warnings about the fae belatedly cross his mind as Dimitri sheepishly tried to recover.

"I-I wouldn't want to give your father any ideas of impropriety. Please, go ahead." He motioned for Byleth to go ahead of him. She didn't look like she understood, but she nodded and turned back towards the little cabin. As the fairy(?) maiden took a step towards her home, Dimitri took one step back towards the forest - his mind whirling as she glanced back. He stood straight, giving her a meek look and a little wave before she turned back around, thinking he was following.

The King took this time to turn around and bolt it. Without so much as a glance back, the blonde was through the thickets and wildflowers before Byleth could be none the wiser. And so he ran. He ran and he ran and ran. Dimitri ignored how heavy his breath was to his ears, or how loud and hard his heart was pounding in his chest. He could not fathom the strange, almost frolicking music that seemed to match his steps.

It was toying with him. The forest was toying with him like a cat pawing at a meager field mouse. Dimitri could feel his anger rise at this stab at his pride, having gotten out of worse situations then this ten times over. Large scale battles? Whatever. A pack of wild, ravaging snow lions near the brink of starvation? As if. Hells, even Felix's snarky attitude was more of a challenge!

This forest was nothing! He would conquer it. Conquer it like the King he was.

Dimitri sped up and burst through a clearing, skidding to a stop when he realized he was back where he started.

This forest was toying with him...

And now the girl who'd only gotten halfway towards her home was looking at him like he is some fool. Gods, he felt like a fool. Especially when she rushed up to him with concern in her voice. "Are you alright? Did you suddenly fall ill?"

Dimitri was thankful that she didn’t notice his failed escape, but damn he was also angry and tired. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to regain his composure and catch his breath. His eyes scanned Byleth, looking for any sign of duplicity. Either she is genuine, or a very good actress. Unfortunately for Dimitri, he didn’t know enough about fairies to be able to say one way or the other.

The King sighed, momentarily defeated. "Actually, I think I need to sit down." The fae girl (and it was still difficult to admit that that's what she must be) curled her arm around his elbow, and he barely noticed in his current state. They began to walk back towards the cabin together, while Dimitri tried to think of ways he might escape, when the door to the cabin opened and a grizzled older man stepped through.

Everyone stopped, the new man's eyes meeting Dimitri’s and then Byleth's, and then back to Dimitri's. He studied him thoroughly, as if questioning if what he was really seeing was true or not. Dimitri took this moment to study him too, his own gaze searching through his still damp hair. The King could add wet, tired, and cold to the list of things that had made this day worse.

And by the way the stranger was looking at the fae on his arm with a worried frown - Dimitri knew he would be adding "Protective Guardian" to that list as well.

The man turned back towards the door, not bothering to look over his shoulder at them. "Well, don't just stand there. Bring him in."

Byleth followed, pulling a reluctant Dimitri inside. It was a small cabin with a main living area and kitchen, and what he assumed are two cramped bedrooms to the side. He had to duck when he went through the door. The other man, Dimitri assumed must be Byleth's father, is setting a place at what looked like a hand-carved table up against one wall. The almost heavenly scent of meat stew came from a pot hanging over a fire in a fireplace, with a stuffed armchair nearby. It was a cozy home, and the King is just a little comforted by being inside.

The fae woman stepped away for a moment into one of the side rooms, and came back with a towel. She threw it over his head and began to rub his hair dry. It was so embarrassing that Dimitri forgot himself and took hold of her wrist. "It's okay! I can do this myself." He blushed at the look of disappointment that crossed her face, and chanced a look at her father, who just rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Well, don't just stand there. Come and sit down. Tell me what’s happened."

Byleth pulled away to walk towards the fire, and Dimitri reluctantly followed. He couldn't help but want to keep his guard up, especially with this fae girl's father staring at him like a collector would a butterfly.

He was pulled from their staring contest when Byleth forced him to sit in the armchair, letting the fire warm up his side as she began to dry his hair with the towel once more. Dimitri blushed but couldn't bring himself to stop her again, the more so because her father was within arm's reach and would probably do it himself just to scare him.

"H-Hello, sir." His voice didn't sound like it's usual deep and intimidating growl, the one he used to face opponents. He couldn't help but feel like a tiny boy again, squaring up with his instructor. "I...Got lost in the woods."

The other man stared down at him blankly, "I can see that."

"Ah, well..." This was certainly awkward.

The towel stopped moving as Byleth turned to her father. "He needs a place to stay the night." The older man scowled, and rubbed the back of his neck. Tired brown eyes moved between his daughter and Dimitri. "Just one night?"

The younger man gave a determined nod. "I will leave in the morning."

Byleth's father looked skeptical, one corner of his mouth pulling back as he examined the other in front of him. "You can sleep in the barn. My name is Jeralt, and you've already met my daughter, Byleth." His eyes narrowed at the last part of his sentence. Dimitri fought back the instinct to squirm.

Meanwhile, Byleth scooped a helping of stew into a bowl, and she handed it to Dimitri with a glowing smile. He was only just starting to relax again, but now the King felt every muscle in his back tighten up in nervousness. "You're hungry, aren't you? Please, eat something."

He stared at the bowl in his hands, at a loss for what to do. Now that he suspected where he was, all the stories he had been told were coming back to him, and all the lessons they gave. One of the more common themes was this one: never eat food given to you by a fairy. In fact, never accept any gifts at all, unless you wish to be beholden to them.

Dimitri looked around, desperate for some excuse. The best he could do, as his gaze landed on Jeralt, was a weak "I-I'm sorry. It's been a long day and I'm just too tired to eat." Jeralt looked back at him, and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Byleth's mouth pursed, her eyes looked fretful despite how very little her face moved. The look almost made Dimitri feel bad, especially when she glanced at her father for help. Luckily, Jeralt showed some mercy and took the King's bowl to give to his daughter.

"Don't push him too hard. He isn't a baby animal that needs coddling."

Byleth still looked put out, but didn't question her father as she took her food to the table to eat. Dimitri watched her go, a bit relieved that she wasn't forcing any kind of strange fairy magic on him. Jeralt cleared his throat, making the King turn back to him, face hot with embarrassment at being caught staring at the man's daughter.

"So," Jeralt grabbed a spare stool by the fire and sat in front of the blonde to talk low. "You got a life outside of this place?"

Dimitri blinked, finding the question odd. "Of course."

The man nodded, though he was scowling. "Then make sure you keep your eyes forward and off Byleth if you want to see it again."

Dimitri sank back into the chair, away from the older man. It was sound advice, even if it came in the form of a threat. "I intend to, sir. I really must leave in the morning."

Jeralt nodded. "How long were you lost?"

"Since this afternoon, if I had to guess." Was it really only a few hours?

"Did you meet with any trouble?"

At that, Dimitri let out a small, sad, laugh. "Trouble? Only plants that tried to hold me down, monstrous spiders, and animals knocking me into ponds." Not to mention beautiful women.

Jeralt groaned, and rubbed his temple with one hand. "Claude."

Byleth perked up from her spot at the table, spoon halfway to her mouth. "He's out in the forest tonight. We heard his flutes on the way back."

"Of course you did," Jeralt grumbled while scratching his head in frustration.

Byleth finished her bite, her blank gaze on Dimitri. He tried to keep from staring back, but he could feel her intense gaze on the back of his neck and he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"Byleth, why don't you finish up then go to bed."

Said girl frowned and made a move to object but paused when her father held up a hand to stop her. "I'll set up the kid's bed for the night - you need to rest. You spent most of the day cleaning."

Byleth continued eating her stew, pouting now as she went back to staring at Dimitri. It still made the King feel nervous and...well, excited? He had to squash that feeling. There was too much for him to worry about. As much as he appreciated the attention of a nice, interesting, beautiful girl, there is too much danger here and Dimitri sensed that she was at least a small part of it - possibly was quite a large part of it. So he tried to ignore the hairs rising on his neck, and the flush creeping up his face. "Er. W-Who is Claude?"

"He's a friend." "He's a monster." The other two spoke at the same time. Byleth let out a huff of annoyance. "Papa, you know that isn't true."

"Tell that to the scarecrow he used for target practice. Or the skin I was drying that he used to paint that lewd scene. Today I discovered that all of our buckets have holes in them, and I'd be willing to lay down money that is Claude's fault too." Jeralt turned his eyes to Dimitri and his face said he'd had it up to here already. "Claude is a trickster, and you'd be better off avoiding him entirely. But it seems you've already caught his attention. It's for the best you ended up here, instead of wandering out in the trees tonight."

He sighed tiredly and stood up. “When you're ready, come with me and I'll get you settled in the barn.” Dimitri raised his brows and quickly stood, casting one last gaze at Byleth as he followed Jeralt out the front door again.

Byleth watched them both leave the house closely, her eyes catching hold of Dimitri's just as he stepped out the door. Her reward for finally catching his gaze was a soft, pink blush that spread all across the blonde's cheeks while his mouth opened and closed, as if thinking twice at saying anything before he followed her father from the home.

Dimitri let out a long sigh of relief when their gazes broke, but only grew tense again when he noticed Jeralt looking back at him. He swallowed, glancing towards the woods for some hope of escape for whatever this man may have planned. But he knew it would only lead back to the clearing with the little hut, strange barn, and an even stranger girl.

#dimileth #dimitri x byleth #dimitri fire emblem #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #faemblem #au #alternate universe #fire emblem #fe #fe3h #f!byleth #fairy au #fae au #co-written #hiddenfangirling #fbyleth

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sammyspreadyourwings · 6 years

Note

Hi i sure as hell have time to read all the world building and story planning you have for the supernatural au. Those are my absolute favorite aus!!

Nonnie! You are on my favorite Anon list! I love anyone that wants me to ramble about my writing.

Ask me questions

This is just the world build and not the plot which is forming(?). Time for you all to experience what I call the Blender of Worlds and Words. I never know what to do, so I just to an overview where you can kind of see what plot I may do, but it gives you a better taste of the world as a whole without the microscope lens of story.

Power structures

Humans and Supernaturals know about each other, however, they have sets of different laws governing them

E.G murder is illegal for humans but for Vampires, they can kill so long as it was for feeding/self-defense

Tax evasion is illegal for everyone

Werewolves laws are more stringent

Despite the governments being equal, there is a societal imbalance between everyone

Humans are middle ground, but there are other supernaturals that consider themselves better than humans

These are the types that can pass as humans but they’re not because ~reasons~

Between Vampires and humans (this would be easier if I had a graph

WAIT I CAN MAKE ONE

Okay, so now that that’s present

The more “human” you are the higher Society thinks of you

Werewolves are the lowest because they lose their humanity, whereas Mermaids only take on the qualities of animals

There are some who try to argue against this system

The Supernaturals

Vampires

Prefer to be called Trueblooded if that, otherwise Vampire is acceptable

Do not call them leech, blood-sucker, demon, etc.

They are treated like royalty p much by everyone because they’ve established themselves as the best, regardless of how bad your blood line is

Classifications

Truebloods are Vampires that can directly trace their founders to the First

There’s about 15 Trueblood families

They’re the council of Vampires

Typically, they’re on the Supernatural governing committee

Mostly they’re in equal standing, but they’re all vying for top spot.

These are born Vampires, even if the offspring should be between a Vampire and Human

It’s a no-no, and typically the offspring will be killed

Bloodlines

This is dependent on how you can trace your sire’s line

Mostly for those turned

Bloodlines are founded originally by Truebloods

The more prestigious the bloodline, the higher rank you are

E.G if you’re from Vlad’s line you’re just under a Trueblood

If turned by a Trueblood then you’re the start of your bloodline

Newborns

1-340 years of age is a Newborn

Babies

They don’t get the protection of their bloodline completely until they’re adolescent

Newborns are the easiest and most frequently killed

Or die b/c they don’t understand their new limits/powers

Abilities

General

Immortality

Truebloods age until they’re 25

Halfers or Dampheirs age until they’re 35 if they’re half human

Blood drinking

heals

enhances abilities

sustains

Sidenote

Different things happen to a Vampire if they drink from another Super

E.G Werewolf blood will poison them where as blood of Fae creatures get them drunk

Heightened Eyesight // Night Vision

Super Speed // Super Strength

Trueblood (From most common to least)

Charm

Increases Attraction

Telepathy

Thought influencing

Empathy

Emotion Control

Sunwalking

Immune to the Sun

Oracle

Future sight

Roger

A trueblood

Sunwalker // Charmer

Really hates Vampire politics

He doesn’t care about the hierarchy shit

Except when he sees poor treatment then he gets heated

Mostly he wants to drum

Dryads

Nature sprits who use music to influence the world

Do not call them sirens

Their music is so enchanting to others that it draws them in seemingly against their will (the person influenced doesn’t though)

Classification

Music Dryads

Muses

Have been called the Muses in the past

They have the best music out of the Dryad race

Nature

Most Common

They sing to make trees grow

9/10 they’re hippies

Fire

Destructive but also Regrowth

Water

Most likely to be called a Siren

Which is why they’re so lowly thought of by the other Dryads

They have accidentally lured sailors to their deaths

Abilities

General

Luring Voice

Charm aura

People are naturally drawn to them

Perfect Pitch

Immortality (they can shift their forms)

Music Dryads

Empathetic Voice

Can make you feel the motion the dryad wants you to

Background track

You always here music around them

Freddie

Music Dryad

While typically Dryads are neutral to humans and care little about the hierarchy in general, Freddie wanted to experience it

He’s like I’m going to start a band!!

He’s mastered control of his aura and charm so that he passes mostly as a human

You can always here a piano when you’re near him

Its v distracting when the band first forms

Humans

Literally, that’s all

Most of them respect the hierarchy and don’t try to involve themselves in Supernatural politics

There are some that are prejudice against all Supernaturals however

The most extreme are Hunters

They’re an unofficial form of Law Enforcement

They tend to kill Supernaturals that are “getting out of hand and a danger”

Mostly Newborns b/c they’re easy + do cause a lot of damage

Wolf’s Head

Specialize in hunting Werewolves because they consider them to be the biggest menace to society

They’re the worst of the supernaturals

Wolves playing to be humans

John

An open-mind human

Doesn’t believe that anyone is inherently better, but doesn’t understand it

That is until he has to figure it out living with Three Supers

What was I thinking?

And he decides that he wants to try and change some of it

Werewolves

Preferred to be called Lykans or Lycanthropes (and now that we’re here, that’s what I’m referring to them as from here on out b/c I was only doing it for understanding)

Werewolves, beasts, mutts etc are hugely offensive

Ofc most people don’t care because they’re so low ranking

In some countries, they aren’t allowed within a city

In others, they can’t work with certain groups or at all

Some require Lykans to wear collars to designate their status

Many have heavy laws and regulation to protect others

“No Beasts Allowed” establishments are common

There are some that won’t allow a Lykan on a seat

Britain's Work Laws

4 days prior to the turn, and 3 days after, have to be taken off unpaid

I could have specified the week of the full moon but

Some business require more

More progressive business give half pay

Classifications

Blood of Romulus

They can trace themselves to the First Lykan, which was First King of Rome Romulus

He got cursed b/c he killed his brother

They’re only higher ranked because most of their turns are by choice

Only 3-4 times a year are they influenced by the full moon

Can shift at any given time

Born Lykans

Those with the blood of Romulus will always have the form of a wolf no matter how far removed

Turned Ones

Otherwise known as the more offensive term Cursed Ones

They’ve been bitten by a half-formed Lykan and thus have become one

Oh shit explanation

Typically a full moon transformation is slow, which means that a Lykan will be half-man half-wolf longer, and that’s when Lycanthropy is easiest to pass

About 40% chance of taking at full shift

About 2% while not shifted at all

Abilities

General

Heightened Senses

All the time if BoR

Super Strenght // Super Speed

Wolf form

Enhanced Healing

Blood of Romulus

Controlled Wolf form

Immortality Ritual

Limited shifting

Pack bonds between non Lykans

Pairbonds are a thing

The bonds let them know where their bonded are on a subconscious level

Also their condition and emotion

Most people don’t want to be packed bonded because it drops their status to that of a Lykan in the eyes of society

Blood Hunt

If they bite someone mostly to completely shifted they can track that person

Brian

Blood of Romulus

He’s rarely in his wolf form

Uncontrolled turns 1-2 times a year

It does tend to ruin his mental health // mood

Very much aware of the hierarchy

There is a specific group dedicated to exterminating his kind

He’s very careful to not draw attention to the fact that he’s a supernatural, much less a Lykan

If anyone cares enough they can look it up in the registry

#my world building #asks #nonnie #supernatural AU #Anonymous

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ifwegettherebysunset · 7 years

Link

Repost with the story under the cut ‘cause I finally got back to my desktop

Anyway here’s the synchro fae au that one person asked for and that person was me

Reigning in Unseelie is nothing short of fun. Atem has the armies of the Hunt at his heels and thousands of shadows bowing to him wherever he walks. His Puzzle grants him other abilities besides: display a hapless human's duality of soul for their fellows to cower from, summon creatures from his collection in the deepest mounds, and an eternal shield from potential invaders in his psyche. He enjoys traipsing his pyramid's labyrinth to see what flies have been caught in its net.

And, of course, there are the Shadow Games.

Atem's inner circle has treasures like his Puzzle, but none of them can play the king's games. They're mostly duels between shadow monsters, but variety is the spice of life. Atem enjoys nothing more than pairing a game with a challenger, one that symbolizes his opponent's failings. A broken mirror for a vain idiot, crumbling statues for a mindless tyrant. Sometimes the challenger is so one-dimensional that Atem is instantly bored, but his notoriety usually brings amusing competitors.

One opponent comes every year and a day. Atem supposes it's his fault. He has such confidence in his victory that beating him in a ceremonial game has become the path to his throne. Bakura has a reserved seat at this point, this year included. If there are any challengers before him, Atem takes them all on in a battle royale, sneering all the while.

Games with Bakura are interesting. Mostly, anyway. Sometimes he rambles a bit too much on how Atem's father snatched the throne from Bakura's line by soaking the Unseelie Kingdom with the family's blood, then making the Puzzle and its companions from the massacre. Atem knows. Everyone knows. And Bakura should stop expecting sympathy from the howling fae. The fact that he still looks around proves that he is far from fit for an Unseelie throne.

This year's game contains such babbling. Atem, as always, responds with "I'm not my father" and a recount of how he had taken the throne by defeating Aknamkanon in a Shadow Game. His subjects love that one. There are wounds on both sides, since Bakura is counted among the king's few worthy opponents despite his harping. It ends with Atem's victory and Bakura crawling from the consuming shadows through sheer wrathful willpower.

But Bakura is nothing if not clever.

Atem is able to keep himself upright until his chamber doors close. Mahaad catches him.

"Good shot," he mutters, clutching his side.

He looks up to see Mahaad frowning. That doesn't bode well.

Once he's curled on his bed, Atem asks, "What did he do this time?"

"I should examine it more closely," Mahaad says. He already sounds worried. Wonderful.

Stripped of his ceremonial garb, Atem gets a better look himself at Bakura's handiwork. His side is blistered, skin bunching with strange shining warts on charred flesh. It burns with the slightest breeze.

Even when his soul was shattered, Mahaad has never panicked. Since being reshaped into an elf mage by twisting shadows, he is the calmest being in the entire kingdom. Now he stares, wide-eyed, like a foal swept in a storm.

"What is it?" Atem asks, sharper with unfamiliar fear.

Mahaad swallows and schools himself into a bow. "Your Majesty. Bakura has somehow used Seelie magic."

Atem starts. "What?"

Mahaad's hand hovers over the warts. They glow brighter. "This is a Starscourge. Ancient magic, the likes of which only few know today. When the Seelie and Unseelie first separated, this curse was one of the Seelie's greatest weapons. Using the light of darkness, the Seelie would reduce intruders to stardust. It is why their constellations shine so brightly."

Atem raises an eyebrow. "Light of darkness? That's confusing even for fae."

Mahaad gestures to the lumps. "What can shine brightest at night? The moon and stars. It's a rough translation."

Atem looks back at the wound. "How long?"

"No royal has been its victim. But with your power and will, you have at least seven days."

"What are the cures?"

Mahaad averts his eyes.

"...no cure has ever been listed, Majesty. We would need an ancient Seelie."

Atem grimaces. The two kingdoms haven't been at war for millennia, but that doesn't mean they particularly like each other. The Seelie king is annoyingly kind just as he finds Atem's terribly violent. If there is anyone Atem would hate to be indebted to, it's him.

"Are you certain?" Atem asks.

Mahaad nods.

If Atem succumbs to the curse that Bakura struck him with during their game, then Bakura will have a right to the throne. Atem despises losing. More than that, he despises Bakura and his careless philosophies on ruling. His rage will only supply the Unseelie's bloodthirst for so long. You need more than that to wear this kingdom's crown.

No. Atem will not die here.

"Bring Isis to me. I need to send a message."

If there's one thing Atem doesn't like most about the Seelie king, it's how gentle he makes Atem. Yugi has a special aura about him that appeals to both sides of the fae: a forgiving, generous heart and a fierce, mischievous spirit. Although wary of Atem, Yugi always has a smile for him on the rare occasions they meet face to face. You can't talk to Yugi and not be candid, though that may be his griffin blood.

But Atem is not talking to Yugi. He is writing. As far as Yugi knows, Mahaad has been affected by the Starscourge, cast by Bakura when Mahaad banished him once more from Unseelie's court. Yugi shouldn't be any the wiser.

Atem wrinkles his nose at the guilt simmering in him when he orders the message off. But the Unseelie treat their friends differently.

Yugi replies that same day, sending a Kuriboh instead of a shadow message or a sunbeam. The creature lands at Atem's window and chirps until Mahaad lets it in. Versatile beings, Kuribohs―able to fly freely between Seelie and Unseelie. Yugi's smart to use them as messengers.

Although it utters nothing but kuri noises, Atem and his circle inherently understand the meaning. Yugi starts by expressing his grief over Atem's plight, not Mahaad's, which generates some amusement. Atem should have known Yugi would see through that.

I have no idea where Bakura could have learned that curse, the message continues, seeing as there is only one Seelie who knows that magic, and he's one of the most honest fae I've ever met. With your permission, I will send him to you. All I ask in return is that he can keep what he extracts.

I hope to see you recovered when we see each other again. I'm anxious for your reply.

"Do you think Anzu had a hand in articulating?" Shada asks dryly.

"Her mouth is definitely as quick as her feet," Mana replies, smiling. "But did you hear? The king will be cured!"

"Can we be certain?" Karim asks gravely.

Mana waves her hand. "The Seelie King is trustworthy!"

"He is also very trusting," Set says, arms crossing, "Too much, sometimes. If that fae truly is the only one who knows the Starscourge magic, he may very well be the one who supplied Bakura with it."

"Yet the king knows his kingdom from every burrow and leaf," Isis says, "If this fae is the only one, then he is the only one."

"And therefore our only viable option for His Majesty's survival," Mahaad says.

They turn to Atem, who in mere hours has been forced to being bed-ridden. He stares at his hands, leaning heavily against the ornately carved headboard. Atem feels the designs poking ridges in his back: victories and Hunts, bordering a throne of dragon talons.

He smirks. "If Bakura did obtain the magic from this fae, that simply means we can make a deal that much easier."

"What of this 'extract'?" Siamun asks.

"Yugi has a right to keep his secrets. The price is a fair one, and I'm willing to make concessions." He nods to Isis. "Send my consent. The visitor has one day to arrive."

The next morning, Mahaad admits a cloaked figure through a side entrance to the Unseelie king's underground palace. The subjects can't know of their king's condition, after all. They'd start an uprising just for fun.

In the dawn, the Seelie's sleeved cloak appears simple: crimson fabric with a silver dragon head clasp. There are no further embellishments. Among the Unseelie elite, it hardly recommends him.

When the shadows kiss the material, the king's council is staggered. The stars covered by the sun are reflected, humming in constellations of harmony to create a soft, soulful whole. The deep-seated restlessness of the Unseelie realm is soothed for a few startling moments.

Eyes that seem to melt through every shade of blue glow with the woven stars. When asked about the cloak, they simply blink.

The moment the Unseelie King sees him, he knows Bakura received nothing from him. Atem has never met him, but the Seelie radiates constancy.

Still, it's best to be absolutely certain. Atem signals to Shada, and the Seelie is presented with a chalice.

"This contains griffin's blood and dragon ash," Shada says, "Lies will be burned from your tongue and truth will flow in your veins."

The Seelie looks at it. Looks at the king.

"I have some questions I want to ask first," Atem says blithely.

A quiet, steady voice replies, "I thought you'd want to be cured as soon as possible."

"Don't question His Majesty," Set snaps.

Holding a hand up at Set, Atem says, "I'd rather you answer first."

The Seelie nods and drinks. The potion is vile; Atem had to drink it at his coronation. But this one seems to have a king's composure.

Atem makes a show of getting comfortable, as if the Starscourge has no effect on him. "What are you called?"

"Yusei," the Seelie says. He doesn't sound like he drank the potion at all―no hurried speech, no high-pitched surprise. Interesting.

Atem gestures to his wound. "How do you know this magic, Yusei?"

A change in expression, if only slightly. A sad downturn of the eyes, a small frown.

"I was born of the stars."

"Many creatures and legends are. What makes you different?"

"My father was a supernova. The kind that scorched the soil and tore kingdoms apart in his dying flame."

"Like the one that destroyed the original kingdom and split the Seelie and Unseelie," Mahaad says.

Yusei looks at him. "That was my father."

Even Mahaad can't hide his shock.

Yusei looks back at Atem. "My mother is the crimson that flies in dusk and dawn. My sibling-soul, who harbored me from my father's explosion, is made of stardust. The Starscourge and every lunar spell was not taught to me, Your Majesty. I knew it the instant I was born."

Siamun regards the stranger with new eyes. "You are a child of Akakiryu."

Yusei removes his hood, revealing raven hair streaked with burning oranges and yellows. He removes his right glove, showing his bare arm to the chamber. A Crimson Dragon's Sign, the same dragon head on his cloak.

Atem laughs. "The Seelie King willingly sent a rare gem into my realm? Too trusting indeed."

Yusei says nothing, but there's a steel in his eyes that Atem likes.

"Did you give Bakura the secrets of Starscourge?" Atem asks.

"No," Yusei answers without hesitation. "I am the only Seelie who knows the magic, but that doesn't mean an Unseelie hasn't stolen it."

"Someone in my court?" Atem says. "Typical." He smirks at Yusei's furrowing brow. "We are a realm of tricksters and scoundrels, Yusei. Your king might not expect betrayal, but anything outside my council is a liable challenger. You must have heard of our games."

Yusei stiffens. "I have."

At least some caution, then. Good. "I don't discriminate between classes for my opponents. I enjoy variety."

"And destroying them."

Atem speaks over a few council members' snipping, "Yes."

"And you will keep destroying."

Atem grins. "Yes. But your king has already made the deal, so you must cure me regardless."

Yusei grips his glove. "My king seems to hold a high opinion of you. There must be something about you that is worth saving."

More angry chatter. Atem rolls his eyes and orders all but Mahaad from the room.

"You're just as trusting as your king, I see."

"No," Yusei says, "I'm not. But I have to believe there's some good in this realm."

Atem scoffs. "Then you really are as trusting. But if you didn't give Bakura that magic, who did?"

"The soil that my father burned also birthed creatures. Bound by dead earth but immensely powerful."

For the first time since swallowing the potion, Yusei tries keeping his mouth shut. Naturally it doesn't work, and the rest tumbles out: "One of them is my friend, but he was twisted by the dreaded spirits and absorbed a giant's heart. This giant is tall enough to touch the stars. It's possible he stole the secret. But he is good, Your Majesty!"

Atem glances at Mahaad. "It doesn't sound like he's good."

Yusei twists his glove in both hands, at last slipping into agitation. "As I said, he was twisted. Deceived. A misunderstanding drove him under the cursed earth. It's my fault."

"Why do you Seelie always blame yourselves for others' injustice? It gets annoying. No," Atem adds when Yusei opens his mouth, "Give his name."

Yusei covers his mouth.

Atem isn't impressed. "Mahaad."

Mahaad's staff stomps the floor, sending a surge of magic at Yusei.

Yusei's birthmark darkens the veins around it in wrathful crimson and repels it.

Frustration overcomes Atem's shock. "That which is precious to the child is precious to the mother, hm?"

Yusei, who had spoken the culprit's name against his hand, freely replies, "There is no blame placed on the victims of the Earthbound, Majesty. They are cursed just as much as the other spirits' targets."

"You have pretty words, Yusei," says the Unseelie King, "and a faithful heart. I see the stars in your blood. But if I can't get the name from you, then I'll have to search for him myself."

Yusei squares his shoulders. "You will see his curse, then. Would you like to be cured now?"

Atem smiles. "By all means. My questions are done."

Yusei removes his other glove, stuffing both in his cloak. "The stars are more capricious here, but they're willing to help. You've made a good impression on them."

"Well, I'm capricious too."

Mahaad doesn't move, but Atem can feel his amusement.

Speaking of. "Mahaad, I think I'll be fine on my own."

"Majesty―"

"Leave us."

Mahaad hesitates, but soon it's just Atem and Yusei.

Yusei kneels beside the bed and runs his fingers over the wound. The embedded stars sing at their kin's touch, eliciting a smile. He's quite lovely to look at.

"Do you like games, Yusei?" Atem asks.

The smile vanishes. "Not your kind of games, Majesty."

"Oh, I think even a Seelie could grow to like those. Especially one with so violent a beginning."

Yusei's fingers twitch. The Starscourge flares, as if to punish Atem for upsetting him.

"My beginning left me with the opposite," Yusei says, "I abhor violence and destruction. Take a deep breath."

The Starscourge bubbles as Atem's ribs expand. "How does this work?"

With his ending the questioning, the potion Shada had given Yusei has no effect. Atem wants to see how Yusei lies.

"I extract the stars," Yusei says.

Ah, by omission then. And not very well, either.

"You're awfully earnest," Atem says, "I'd tell you not to come here, but."

Yusei hums, accidentally triggering an answering coo from Atem's wound. "Take another breath, but let it out slowly." He places both hands on the curse. "Slowly...keep going, and don't move. This will hurt."

Atem nearly yells under the flaring pain. The embedded stars are screeching in protest, trying to tangle themselves deeper. Yusei whispers to them in a language not even the king understands, full of sharp crescendos and rumbling syllables. With every word(?) he utters, his pupils draw thinner and his irises pale, until golden dragon eyes are growling at Atem's side.

Sibling-soul, Yusei had said.

The agony drains slowly. Atem clenches every muscle, steadies his breath. Yusei's sibling's voice braids with Yusei's, creating a strange, ever-changing frequency that Atem uses as a distraction.

Yusei says, "You're free," and the room trembles into black.

Atem wakes to see a guard holding a blade of shadows to Yusei's throat.

"You said you would be alright alone," Mahaad says.

Atem sits up and stretches. "Don't I look alright?"

Relief peeks at the council members' faces. "You are cured, then?" Isis asks.

Atem pokes at his side. The stars did leave a blistered scar, but he can move. "Entirely. Oh, you can take that blade away now."

Yusei glances stiffly around. "Kind of you, Majesty."

"A deal's a deal. You get to keep what you extracted. But."

Yusei's eyes narrow. "But?"

"Well." Atem stands, beckoning the shadows to him. "There was never anything about letting you go."

"What?"

"You're a fae, Yusei. You must know wording is important. Yugi obviously thought that I would allow you to leave. Maybe I should teach him a lesson. After all, a creature like you intrigues me."

Yusei's jaw works. "Are you trying to goad me into playing a game with you, Majesty?"

"Perceptive."

"...if I win, I can leave."

"If I win," Atem says, caressing his shadows, "you stay until I'm done with you."

Yusei ducks his head. "And if I try to escape instead?"

Set laughs. "You wouldn't get far, Seelie."

"A duel would be best," Atem says, "As a child of the stars, you must know of the void."

"I don't wield it," Yusei replies tersely.

Atem smirks. "But you can."

No reply.

"Do you accept?"

Yusei looks at the door. It vanishes in an instant. An illusion, which Yusei likely sees through, but a solid message.

The steel from earlier stares Atem down.

"Yes."

#synchroshipping #writing by sunset

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sabraeal · 7 years

Text

Bones in the Barrow: Part 2

(Sequel to this part of the Fae AU)

The door rattles on its hinges beneath the frantic pounding of her palms, her knuckles nearly as numb as her lips as she waits for an answer. The higher the moon climbs, the colder the night becomes; even now her breath shivers in the air, twisting like a leanan sidhe waiting for her lover. The cobbles bite at soles of her feet, and Shirayuki wishes she has thought to wear more than just a sleeping shift and a shawl to follow Obi outside.

For...a lot of reasons.

She feels a phantom pressure against her hip, hard and unyielding, and she throws herself at the door again, pounding harder. She cannot get distracted, even now she is losing the taste of his -- his --

Of the magic. The one she found...on Obi. She needs to concentrate to keep that bitter cold in her mouth, filling her nose --

She stumbles when the door opens.

“Shirayuki?”

Unlike her, Shidan’s apprentice had thought to throw her robe over her nightgown, the hood pulled fully over her hair so that the icy hue of her hair is only visible where it spills down her chest. With only the flickering candlelight to illuminate her face, the sharp curve of her cheekbones and brow stand out in relief, a death mask above dark shroud.

“Is something wrong?” Yuzuri asks. She steps to the threshold, the whole of her illuminated in the moonlight. The green of her robes easily apparent now that she is not tangled in shadow.

Shirayuki shakes herself, the strong scent of anise stinging her nose. Everything is wrong, but there’s no time to explain it.

“Where did Shidan go?” The words rush from her, heedless as a flood. “When you last saw him, where was he heading?”

Yuzuri’s jaw drops. “I – there’s a grove. Outside the village. He thought he might ask for intercession…”

“And he never returned?” Her mind is racing now, trying to work its way to a conclusion. “Can you tell me how to find it?”

Yuzuri grins. “I can do you one better.”

It is with Suzu tromping heedlessly to one side, and Yuzuri hardly much better on the other that she feels it. The veil brushes over her skin, soft like silk, as fragile as gossamer.

“It’s here,” Yuzuri says.

Shirayuki doesn’t need to be told. Her tongue is nearly numb with cold.

A Whitethorn tree sprawls at the edge of the clearing; it calls to her. Its song is a bright, melodic chirp, like chimes in the wind, or ice falling from the eaves. She goes to it, and beneath her fingers the veil parts.

Her hands press to its trunk, the bark biting with chill and she – it’s –

“There’s a knowe here,” she murmurs. The magic nips at her palms, tugging at her insistently. “Why is there a knowe –?”

“The Wisteria Kings didn’t always rule here.”

Shirayuki spins to face Suzu, wide-eyed. The pull is stronger now; her fingers bent to brace her against it. He yelps, shrinking under the determination in her gaze.

“I-I mean, that’s what my grandmother told me,” he mumbles. “It empty now.”

Yuzuri blinks. “What was here before?”

“A...” Suzu swallows. It’s so quiet the in clearing it nearly echoes. “An unseelie court.”

Oh no. No.

He coughs, shuffling his feet. “But like I said, it’s empty now, so --”

“It’s not,” Shirayuki hisses, already pushing away, but it’s too late, too late --

They are already falling.

When they land, it is not gentle.

“Ow,” Suzu groans, levering himself off the ground. “I didn’t expect actual falling. That seems overkill.”

“Literal, for the people of the barrows,” Yuzuri agrees, breathless as they try to sort out all their limbs. “I would have thought --”

“Is this how you come to see The Lady, mortals?”

They scramble to their feet, nearly tripping over each other and the roots of the tree, but it is too late. A man stands before them, his fair face forbidding, his hair dark as pitch. His magic lays inert on her tongue, like cold marble, and she has to resist the urge to spit it out. This knight is not who they are look for, but --

But whoever made his armor is.

It shimmers even in his stillness, something sleeker and smoother than steel. It is not until the cold hits her lips that she realizes it is ice, shone to shimmering plates. She doubts that it would crack. One of Raj’s storied pikemen could try to lance him, and he’d come out the other side unscathed -- and angry.

“The lady?” Suzu’s voice cracks as Yuzuri tucks into his side. “What lady?”

“She is on whose sufferance you live.” The sidhe turns sharply, giving them hsi back. Oh, if only they had Obi, she would not be so quick to discount them. “Come. She will see you now.”

“Who?” Yuzuri asks.

The sidhe barely spares her a glance. “Our Lady of Winter.”

It is cold within in the knowe in a way that has little to do with temperature.

Rime coats halls eerily similar to those at Wistal, though where the palace’s walls are covered in smooth plaster and glittering tapestries, here the stone is exposed, banners torn up in a way that suggests it was not moths that got to them. Whatever device the pennants once bore, they are cut away now. A tapestry slouches on one wall, but it is all rotted away; Shirayuki had not known it was possible for age to creep beneath the mounds.

The corridor ends at a set of great doors, but they are slumped on their hinges, hanging askew in the jamb. The sidhe hardly stops, knocking aside one that hangs too close. It groans in protest, giving a single great shudder, and then stills.

“We’re going to die,” Suzu hisses even as Yuzuri shushes him. “No, he just -- did you see--?”

“Quiet!” The sidhe glares at them. “You are in The Lady’s presence.”

Great thrones of ice form a jagged maw at the center of the room, as if the room is but a single part of a greater beast. Upon the largest sits a woman whose seeming is more stone than flesh, her skin alabaster pale and hair opal-white. Her head turns to watch them enter, and it’s then that she realizes her stony guise is all a trick of the light, caused by the harsh light of the plants above her. Clear bulbs hang from them, glowing seed suspended in each, and -- and the lights are fruit.

Shirayuki takes a step forward before she can help herself, too curious, and that is when she sees the man at The Lady’s feet. His eyes stare vacantly ahead, his fair hair matted and bedraggled, his only movement the rattle of his breath in the care of his ribs.

“Shidan!” Yuzuri shrieks, rushing toward him. The knight is before her in a moment, the back of his hand launching her across the court’s floor.

Her hood spills back, exposing the pale blue of her hair and -- and --

A twitching set triangular ears; too high for a human, but too low for a cat’s.

“Cait sidhe,” Shirayuki murmurs, eyes wide. It stymies her how Yuzuri could have hid it, not when she is so sensitive to --

Her eyes fall to the sachet of herbs around the girl’s neck. Anise. Fennel. She’d been foiling her senses from the start.

“Ah-ah, cousin.” The Lady speaks daggers, each one seeking a warm heart. “He’s mine, fair and square.”

“You have no right to him.”

The Lady’s gaze snaps to her, and it is then that Shirayuki realizes that she is the one who has spoken.

“By the laws of seelie,” she continues, her voice wavering. Oh, how she wish Obi were here; he knew the rules froward and back if only so he might better break them. “A sidhe may only put a mortal under geas in their own demense.”

The Lady bears her teeth. “This is my kingdom --”

“This is the land of the Wisteria --”

“You dare to speak his name in my court?” the woman hisses, like acid on ice. “He who wrested this knowe from my father and left it to rot?”

“The Wisteria –”

Steel sings through the air, and for a brief moment she sees the blur of the knight before her, his sword slicing through the air --

The next moment, it clatters to the ground.

Between her and the sidhe is a naked back, scarred and bronze, heaving with effort. She would know it anywhere, even if the taste of copper and honey did not sit heavy on her tongue.

“Obi,” she breathes. His head ticks only slightly toward her, his attention torn. “What are you doing here?”

“And why is he naked?” Yuzuri interjects, eyes wide. Shirayuki very studiously avoids the girl’s inquiring look, trying to swallow down the blush spilling over her cheeks.

His eyes meet hers, pupils blown and gaze unfocused, and her stomach sinks. “My Lady,” he drawls, mouth pulling wide in a grin that is not his. “Do you not--?”

“I see you have no come without protection,” the Lady says, frowning. “Though by all rights he should be mine as well.”

The Lady descends from her throne with the preternatural grace innate in her kind, crossing the floor to stop right to where Obi stands. He does not even flinch, not even when her nostrils flare and she leans close, too close.

“Strange,” she murmurs, and then her mouth opens, impossibly wide, and she -- she --

She bites him. Blood wells beneath her lips, beading down his shoulder in thing trails. Obi makes no sign of having noticed, still as a tin figure, eyes staring sightlessly ahead. Shirayuki’s hands fist at her side. It’s not right, he’s not hers --

“My, my.” The Lady pulls away, licking her lips, eyes wide. “Now that does explain a few things.”

“Let him go.” Shirayuki does not know where this voice comes from in her, save that she is half animal when she summons it. It is more growl than demand. “Let them all go. This is not your domain.”

The Lady’s lips peel back from her teeth, her mouth stained red, and -- and even with the reminded that these aes sidhe are predators, Shirayuki is undeterred.

“The Kings of Winter ruled here long before the Wisterias came to take it.” The Lady hisses, hands bent into claws. “They do not even use it. They have let the whole of it gone to rot.”

“It’s theirs to do with what they please.” There is a part of her the recognizes the danger she is in, that urges caution, but -- but Obi is still immobile before her, blood winding into the running of his spine and -- and her blood boils.

“They let it sit empty! It is mine --”

“Right of the conqueror,” Shirayuki reminds her. “It outweighs even blood right. Acting as you have is in violation of --”

“The Wisteria King may come and rebuke us himself,” her knight taunts, “if he is so eager to win back what his fathers stole. The knowe acknowledges its rightful ruler.”

Shirayuki’s mind works, churning like clockwork. It could not be said by sidhe lips if it was not true, and she doesn’t know this part of the laws, the ones that recognize the sentience of the barrows. It’s not her world, she hardly understands what will keep her alive, and now --

“Does it?”

Yuzuri’s voice is small, little more than a mewl, but there’s steel in those eyes of hers. The sidhe can’t lie, but oh, there is so much that lays between truth and falsehood.

“What does that mean?” The Lady snaps, but it’s too late, she sees the flash of panic on her face.

“You said it was the Kings of Winter than ruled here,” Shirayuki begins slowly, ponderously. The last piece snaps together. “But yet...you are only the Lady of Winter.”

Both she and her knight looks as if she has slapped them.

“It does recognize you as its ruler,” she continues, “but only with the Wisteria King above you.”

“The Kings of Winter bend to no one,” The Lady tells her stiffly, but she does not sound...certain.

Her mind whirs like lurchopan clockwork, cogs working in perfect symphony, like water through a riverbed. She can do this, she just needs --

She needs to think like Obi.

“Would you take a wager?” Shirayuki asks, ignoring the questioning looks from Suzu and Yuzuri send her. She knows what she’s doing.

...She hopes.

The Lady’s face is smooth as a mask, but she sees it -- that hint of avarice. “What are your terms?”

She has to make the prize good. It won’t work unless The Lady is...tempted. “If you win, you take the knowe.”

The Lady arches an eyebrow. “And If you win?”

“You release the geas on this village.”

“That’s all?” Her smile is smug, sly. The sidhe are always ready to believe they have the better bargain.

“No.” Shirayuki fists her hands at her side. “You consent to be betrothed to the Wisteria King.”

“Never,” he knight growls, but The Lady lifts a hand, curious.

“Why would I do that?”

“The knowe won’t see you as anything more than it’s Lady.” Shirayuki shrugs, so much more casual than she feels. “It is the only way to make you queen.”

And the only way to keep the sidhe from marching to war. The Lady of Winter would never be content to stay that way, and Izana would not suffer her ambition for long.

The compulsion must be strong in her; The Lady does not even blink. “And what game shall we play?”

Ah...this part. She hadn’t quite thought this far in advance. The terms themselves had seemed like a long shot.

“Your choice,” she says. The Lady’s mouth curls cruelly, but before she can speak, Shirayuki adds, “So long as it is possible for me to win.”

The sidhe woman frowns. “A dangerous game, cunning girl.”

Obi’s grin sits oddly on her mouth, and it is with his voice in mind that she says, “A easy game isn’t worth playing, is it?”

The woman grins.

“Very well. Eat one of the Olin maris.” The Lady gestures to the fruit above them, now pulsating with a strange light. “If it does not kill you, then I will take your bargain.”

Shirayuki stares up at the pendulous fruit, wondering if part of the trial is to fetch it as well. It would be a task for Obi to get it, never mind her than stands head and shoulders beneath him.

A blast of cold rolls over her skin, and one of the vines lowers, just low enough for the fruit to be picked.

She bites back a grimace when she touches the fleshy fruit; it’s spongy in her hand, and the thought of that texture in her mouth makes her stomach roil. Still she lifts it to her lips and --

And oh, it is unpleasant. The texture, the cloying sweetness with a bitter aftertaste -- ah, she doubts even water would rinse the taste from her mouth -- it sits so heavy on her tongue, so dark --

Just like the air in the village. She stares at the fruit. Could it be --?

“But how?” The Lady breathes, stepping forward. Her hand lifts, brushing the ribbon wound around her neck, and the Lady smiles. “Ah,” she sighs. “I see that you are not mine to take.”

“The geas,” she pushes, swallowing down the reflex to gag. “You’ll lift it?”

The Lady’s brow lifts in surprised. “A bargain is a a bargain, cunning girl.” Her mouth cants slyly. “But surely you know how it’s done.”

“The fruit.” Her hands are still sticky with its juice, clear and gelatinous like aloe. “The fruit is the geas. You must have...”

Her eyes trace the vines up, hearing the rushing water above. “You put them in the water.”

“It works faster on some than others,” The Lady confirms. “Now speak to me of this betrothal.”

It is easier to speak to Obi when he has pants on.

His hands fist in the shirt in his lap, hissing when she dabs his bite with alcohol.

“She went deep,” Shirayuki remarks, not sure how to -- to talk about any of this. “It’s ugly, but it’s already healing. Haki said that there’s something in her saliva that will make it scar poorly.”

“Of course there is,” he says, laughter rumbling beneath his words. It isn’t anything different from how he usually talks but -- but lighting zips beneath her skin at the sound of it. “Just another one for the collection.”

“I’ll do my best,” she assures him. Here she would normally lay a hand on his shoulder, would normally step close and tease, but --

But it doesn’t seem wise. Not tonight.

“Don’t worry, Miss,” he drawls, leaning back on his hands. “Women love scars.”

Her lips press tight together, and she gives him a warning look.

His eyes narrow in amusement. “Speaking of...”

She winces.

“How’d you like the view?” He flutters those long eyelashes of his, words practically a purr.

She’s annoy to find that she doesn’t..not like it.

“I-I wasn’t looking,” she informs him staunchly. “I was too worried by your behavior --”

“Yuzuri said she got a good look, Miss.” His gaze is all too knowing. “And I know you had a bit more than that.”

She should not be wondering what his kisses would taste like now. “You’ll be taking the slow way back, if you keep this up.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Good idea, Miss. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near Wistal when you tell His Majesty about the deal you’ve made.”

#obiyuki #my fic #Fae AU #ans #AS PROMISED #THE THRILLING CONCLUSION #of people dancing naked in a village

18 notes · View notes

not-poignant · 7 years

Note

Hey! I looove your work and I wanted to ask about blackice. I adore the AUs you have for these characters, and I was wondering if you have other AUs in mind for this ship? Not any plans for future writing but I thought it would be fun to hear what ideas you have for these characters.

Hiya anon!

I have no immediate plans to write any more blackice after TGATNW, and I have come up with other AUs over the years. One I’m actually stealing for an original novel series (a demonology AU), and the other...I’ll never have time for, which was a Rise of the Guardians / His Dark Materials crossover, where Pitch and the Nightmare King are brothers and Jack is a witch who can control the snows and etc. I don’t even really remember the plot. I just remember it was pretty and also daemons.

But the demonology AU I’m reworking (I came up with it like, god, oh my god, midway through 2013? Haha, I’ve been on this account for too long. *becomes a slug and crawls around*), mostly because I like the potential it has as a universe to carry multiple stories, similar to how the Fae Tales universe does now.

I haven’t really tried to come up with anything else, to be honest, because I am 99% more likely to be thinking of AUs for Gwyn and Augus, since they are way more my OTP than Jack and Pitch. (I love Jack and Pitch, but like...for characters that fill my every waking moment, it is more likely to be Gwyn and Augus. I have like a million AUs for them).

19 notes · View notes

plotmaster · 8 years

Text

of dusk and dawn and a love beyond

Summary: The King of Day, Victor, drops flowers to the Ruler of Night, Yuuri, to express his love for him, but they are always returned, as Yuuri thinks that they’re dropped by mistake.

Victor cries and plucks wishes off the petals every time, remembering the time when once, they had been together.

based off this au by @beanpots

ao3

There are only two times that they meet every cycle, two times that their realms blur at the borders and the rulers walk past each other as one sigil rises where the other one falls. Dusk and dawn are the most precious times of day to Victor, because that’s the only opportunity he has to glimpse the elusive Ruler of Night.

The boundary separating them is not one that is easily described. No land can be night and day at the same time, no land can host them both together. So Victor waits for the moments that he throws the Sun into the heavens and the moments he calls it back to earth, for that is the only time that Night and Day blur and they can be together.

If only there was a land of Eternal Twilight, he thinks wistfully, standing in a meadow full of flowers. Sunflowers and daisies, all sorts of plants that open to the sun. They bloom in his footsteps where his raiment of sunlight and sky-shards touches the ground, and sing his praise in tiny voices that humans cannot hear. The place where he has come to summon the day this time is far from human civilization — his preference.

Not because Victor dislikes humans. They adore him and the radiance he brings, his crown of seven sunrays a symbol for those that worship him. Rather, it’s because it is in places far from humans that the Ruler of Night will linger, because while Victor’s skin is robust and ruddy from the Sun that he possesses, his counterpart has skin the same gray as the craters of his Moon. One is more acceptable to humans, one is not.

But Victor adores the Night all the same. He could care less about the sacrifices that humans try to offer him — food is welcome, but other humans have their bonds burnt and sent to their homes — for the Night is the only one that he wants. Not some human offering.

“The Night is coming, the Night is coming!” sings the Herald of Dusk, breaking Victor from his thoughts. A being with dark skin and dark eyes waves at Victor, winks, and disappears to make way for his liege.

A hush falls over the meadow, the plants and faeries halting their singing, favouring silence, for the Night is a time for silence. Victor tries not to look too excited, grasps his gift in hand as he feels a chill steal over the area, and the Ruler of Night appears on the edge of meadow, cloak of sweeping starlight and circlet of stars glimmering gently.

The Night dips his head politely to Victor once they are closer, and his pallor is pale and weak under the sunlight. Victor loves him even when he looks like this.

Normally, Dawn and Dusk are conducted in silence. It’s a simple, matter, really. Victor reaches his hands high and coaxes the Sun downwards with a simple tug of magic. At the same time, the Night reaches into the sleeve of his garment and takes out the Moon, pitching it high. It soars as the Sun slowly sets, until it is firmly in the sky, and will be for the rest of the nighttime.

Usually, they part here, Victor with his Sun and the Night to his realm, but recently, Victor has been making a small change to that routine. As they walk past each other without exchanging a word, even though Victor has ached to change that for millennia, he drops his gift onto the starlight that trails behind the Night, and then vanishes to his realm.

“Wait!” Yuuri cries, whirling around. But there is no one there with him anymore, the Day having disappeared just a second ago. “Not again,” he sighs, shaking out his cloak and catching the flower that falls from the fabric of space. It’s a kind of rose that only exists in the realm of the Day, colored with the reds of the sunset and a stem of noon-forged glass. He brings it to his nose without thinking, and inhales the scent of the flower, something that cannot be described with human words for it is not of the human realm. Yuuri regards it with equal parts fondness and sadness, for while it is lovely, it must have been a mistake of the Day’s, to drop it on his cloak.

It would be a waste to leave it in the human realm, he thinks (just as he thought with every other flower the Day dropped him) and holds in carefully as he leaves the meadow, aware of the silence of the flowers and fae that adore the Day but hide from him.

At least, Yuuri thinks, the flowers that the Day drops to him do not shrink like normal ones do, even if they wilt quickly in his realm.

“Hey Yuuri! What do you have there?” his friend whirls into existence in front of him the moment Yuuri returns to his lands. Phichit, Herald of Dusk, looks over his shoulder curiously, and grins knowingly at Yuuri’s expression.

Yuuri twirls the flower in his fingers for a bit. “Oh, hey Phichit. It’s just another rose. Day must’ve dropped it again, which is strange... this has been going on for weeks now.” Not that he minds the flowers. He loves them, honestly, for no flowers bloom in his realm, and flowers in the mortal realm shrink from his presence.

Phichit puts his hand to his chin in mock speculation, his clothes stolen from the darkest hues of moonrise accentuating the gesture. “Weeks, you say?” Oh god, he’s waggling his eyebrows. “Well, that certainly is strange. For it to be an accident...” He winks, a star popping into existence next to him. “It can only mean one thing!”

Yuuri can feel his face heat up, and he clutches the rose to his face as he turns away, flustered. “No no nonono- Phichit you have the wrong idea-”

“He totally likes you!” Phichit yells, in the same voice that he uses to Herald the Dusk. It echoes through all of the Night Lands, and Yuuri can sense stirring interest from his subjects. He puts both hands to his face to hide to his expression as he rushes deeper in his land, clutching the shimmering rose the whole time.

It’s beautiful, he thinks wistfully, but it has no place in the realm of Night. He’ll return it at dawn.

In the meantime though, he sets about his nightly duties, checking on each one of his stars to make sure everyone is doing well in. Yuuko and Takeshi greet him enthusiastically from where they’re poring over books while their daughters run about testing their brightness against the backdrop of space. Minako waves from where she dances pirouettes and grand jetes, starlight trailing from her fingertips and her feet.

His realm, while there are no plants that bloom, shines brightly. All the beings that live here are responsible for painting the night sky, so that it’s different every time he throws the Moon into the Sky. It’s a cheerful place, and Yuuri loves it. It’s not as warm as the human realm, but it is lively.

“Yuuri!” Hiroko calls to him. He smiles, and makes his way to her and her husband and daughter. They have been part of the Night Realm ever since Yuuri was formed millennia ago, and are the ones that crafted his clothes and circlet of starlight. If they were human, he imagines that they would be a family. “Did the Day give you another rose?”

Yuuri finds himself blushing again. Not them too! “Yes, he di- no,” he says lamely, looking at the beautiful plant in his hands. “He just dropped it.”

Hiroko huffs. “He’s dropped at least a thousand roses to you by now, and you think they’re not gifts?” She puts her hands on her hips. “Yuuri, you come back with a rose after every Dusk!”

“I...” Yuuri looks at the rose sadly, “We’ve never talked, Hiroko. He always accepts them when I give them back, so it’s definitely an accident. If they were meant for me, he wouldn’t take them back, after all.”

“Oh, you dear boy,” the Star shakes her head. Yuuri excuses himself shortly afterwards.

Eventually, he puts the rose in his sleeve, where the Moon usually rests. It wouldn’t be good to wilt it from holding it too long before he returns it. Yuuri swallows nervously at the thought of making the Day angry at him for damaging one of his flowers.

As he reclines in his throne, though, Yuuri wistfully wishes he could have flowers of his own someday. Ones that bloom under the Moon instead of the Sun, and wouldn’t die at his touch. It’s a pipe dream.

They meet again at Dawn, on a mountaintop this time. The landscape is white with snow, a frozen-over lake reflecting Yuuri’s cloak as if a portion of the sky is on earth now.

“The Day is coming!” he hears roar over the land, and a being with fair hair and skin bounds through the treetops like a snow leopard. The Herald of Dawn skids in front of Yuuri, green eyes full of irritation. “Why do you always choose the most forsaken places, Night?” he hisses before running off, back to the Realm of Day, no doubt.

Yuuri holds his breath as the King of Day appears from where the Herald of Dawn had come from. Sunlight and sky-blue are what make Day’s raiment, and it’s blinding to look at directly, sometimes. But what makes it hard for Yuuri to ever look Day in the eye is that the King of Day himself is ridiculously beautiful. Silver hair, like piercing star-shards, and eyes so blue that they too, must have had their color taken from the sky.

Or rather, Yuuri muses, the daytime sky’s color is from the King of Day’s eyes. It makes more sense.

They nod, as usual, even though Yuuri has a thousand questions for Day. But he simply reaches up and calls the Moon back down to him, and Day throws the Sun into the sky. This has been their routine for thousands of years, but it’s been changed for the last few weeks. Nothing too important, really, just Yuuri giving Day his flowers back before going back to his realm.

“You dropped this,” Yuuri says quietly, like he does every Dawn. He vanishes as quickly as possible afterwards, always, because he cannot imagine talking to Day for too long.

Day is... radiant. Day shines brightly, just like his Sun, and he is full of warmth and beauty that Yuuri knows that Day has better things to do than talk to him, the quiet Ruler of Night.

Day is radiant, and brings light and life to the mortal realm.

Yuuri... does not.

That’s the truth.

(The Day is loved by all. Why would he want the Night near him?)

“He returned it again! Does he not like flowers?” Victor wails, throwing himself on his bed. He spins the rose critically in his hand before sighing and starting to pluck the petals. “He loves me, he loves me not...”

Yuri, the Herald of Dawn, looks at him crossly from where he lies with the many cats that he has picked up. “You can’t be serious,” he groans, “Not this again.”

“... loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not...”

“Whyyy are you like this,” Yuri says with an air of defeat. “You’ve been doing this for almost an entire season! And the Ruler of Night just keeps giving them back! What’s the point?”

“This is the only way I get to hear him say anything!” Victor protests, waving the mostly-plucked rose in the air. “Otherwise he’s so quiet! He really ought to speak more though, his voice is so pretty... like windchimes. I like windchimes. Do you think Night likes windchimes? Ooh!” he shoots up excitedly, “Maybe I should give him a windchime!”

Yuri groans again, and immediately absconds the room. “I think you should just shut up and do your job!”

As the echoes of his footsteps fade away, Victor sighs and lets his head fall back on his bed. Eventually, he does drag himself out, though, to his bright Realm full of flowers and fae.

They wave at him as he passes, basks in the light of his cloak. Some of the younger faeries flit forward and bounce on his collar of clouds, but none of them stick around for long. None of them do, except occasionally the Faerie Kings and Queens, but even they remain a respectful distance away from Victor. It’s distressing, sometimes. The Herald of Dawn is the being he has the most contact with on a regular basis, and if were not for the times that he can meet with Night, Victor thinks he may have gone mad with loneliness. Just left the Sun up in the sky to burn the breadth of the earth.

He shakes the thoughts from his mind, tracking his way towards the garden of flowers that grow exclusively in his realm. He uses them to revitalize the earth, sometimes, after long winters which Night has more jurisdiction than Day. But lately, they’ve been used as tools to express his adoration of his fellow ruler.

Night has a name, just as Victor does, surely. He wants to know it, someday. He wonders if it would be possible to visit Night’s realm someday. Is Night as lonely as he is? Is his realm dark like like the night sky, or is it bright, like the stars that adorn it. Part of Victor hopes that the Ruler of Night isn’t as lonely as he is — sometimes Victor feels so achingly lonely that he resorts to walking around in human towns — but another part hopes that the Night is like him. If he is lonely, that part whispers, then you can offer to make him not-lonely, and together you’ll never be lonely again. It’s a wonderful thought that elates Victor.

Now if only Night would just say anything other than, “You dropped this.”

“Maybe you have to take things in your own hands,” Mila, one of the queens of the summer fae court, advises him as she twirls the hair of her fellow queen Sara.

“Communication is key,” Sara pipes.

Victor can’t believe that he just had to ask the fae for love advice.

Well, better than humans.

(Their love stories are ridiculous, in his opinion, even if they are endlessly amusing.)

It starts like this:

Victor does not remember what his life was like without Night there, his existence always registering faintly on the periphery of Victor’s awareness as they cultivated the Sun and Moon, tossed them in the sky to change the world twice every twenty-four hours. One cannot have the Day without the Night, because at Night, Victor must take the Sun and let it rest, polish it and adjust its light depending on the seasons. He would not be able to do that if the Sun was in the sky all the time.

He remembers, eons ago, when he and Night did not have separate Realms, when they would simply lie in the same meadow, never speaking but together all the same. They had worn nothing at the time. The Night had been immaculate even back then.

And then one day, a piece of the Sun broke, and fell to the ground, on the Night’s side of the meadow. And Night had vanished with the shard, as Victor had been unable to piece it back to his Sun.

Night had broken their unity first. Left with a piece of the Sun and all of Victor’s heart.

And when he had returned, he had come back... different. A crown of something on his head, making him appear even more beautiful than he already was. Victor knows now that the feeling that he had had back then was that of relief. Relief that Night had returned, and hadn’t left him all alone.

But after they had exchanged the Sun and Moon as usual, Night disappeared again, and Victor wept tears of fire, burning swaths of the earth into barren patches that would never grow life.

Night had continued to disappear like that, after he took the Moon down and after he put it up. Never again did they lie in quiet together, naked in a meadow.

So Victor had gone to travel as well, tried to occupy himself whenever the Night was gone, because being in the meadow without Night was wrong. Felt wrong.

(Being apart from Night feels wrong, still.)

The Night had left, and cultivated himself a Realm of his own, so Victor went and did the same.

The Night came dressed in the colors the sky took when the Moon was up, so Victor did the same, taking sunlight and fair blue and turning it into garments for himself.

The Moon unfurls a display of stars every night, when it is up. Victor doesn’t know how the Night got starlight, or where they were from, but he doesn’t question it. What he does do is call the fae to him, to help him weave clouds together to float during the daytime.

It started like that: Two boys in a meadow, together in balance and peace and quiet. Knowing nothing but their duties, and each other.

The Night left first.

(He still has all of Victor’s heart.)

When Dusk comes again, Victor stands in another meadow, but does not wait with a flower as usual.

No. This time, he (with Mila and Sara’s help picking) waits with a full bouquet for the Night. The Night can’t be so reticent as to not realize that an entire bouquet of flowers picked expressly from Victor’s realm and wrapped in the softest clouds is anything but an express declaration of love.

Maybe it’s not love, Victor thinks. Love is such a human concept — Love is dramatic and sweeping like all the knights trying to save their princesses from dragons real and metaphorical. It’s a word he picked up from them, honestly.

What he has for Night is something... different. A yearning, one could call it, for them to be together like they were in the past, before the Night had left with a shard of the Sun and come back with stars to decorate the sky. They have been apart for so long, and Victor has hated every bit of it. His Realm might be beautiful, full of flowers and fae, but they worship him, too distant to ever lie with him in a meadow. Humans are the same. They do not see Victor as Victor, they see the King of Day, a deity to be worshipped.

The Ruler of Night is the only one that is Victor’s equal. The only one that has his heart, the only one that he wants to fold in his arms and hold onto.

If only, Victor wishes again, there was a Land of Eternal Twilight, so they could return to that unity they once had.

It’s not so simple, now. At some point in time, they had created Heralds to announce when they should meet.

At some point, Victor had become the King of Day and Night had become the Ruler of Night.

At some point, they had grown up from being those two boys in a meadow together. Now, they are older, appearances reflecting those of adult mortals now. They have duties of some kind, Victor to the Fae Courts that follow him, the Night to... whatever subjects he has.

Being together is not so easy as it was in the past.

That doesn’t mean Victor will give up that hope, though.

“The Night is coming!” he hears the Herald of Dusk crow from the horizon.

Victor clenches the bouquet tighter, and waits for Night to arrive.

Yuuri’s breath hitches when he sees Day. It’s an instinctive reaction, almost, to be in awe of Day’s countenance, but this time that’s not all to Yuuri’s reaction.

He doesn’t miss Phichit’s wink as he leaves them to do the exchange.

Yuuri walks towards Day, feeling self-conscious in a way that he didn’t know he was able to to, torn between looking at Day’s expression and the bouquet of flowers in his hand. They’re all beautiful, he thinks distantly, but Day is much more beautiful than all of them.

Usually, they just... nod and do their duties. But the bouquet in Day’s arms shifts everything, and Yuuri comes to a stop only a foot away from Day, uncertain of what to say.

They stand in silence, Day giving him a penetrating gaze, and Yuuri can’t help but fiddle with his sleeves nervously. Even when they were younger, Day was as intense as the Sun, and to have that focused all on Yuuri... well, it isn’t an unpleasant feeling, but it is new, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

Day sighs, breaking the silence. He holds the bouquet out, sideways, so that it’s easy for someone to take it from his grasp. “These are for you,” he says. “The roses were never an accident. They were a gift. These are, too.”

Yuuri stares at the flowers speechlessly, unable to formulate a coherent reply. What?

The King of Day is looking at him carefully. “Do you not like them?”

And just like that, a dam inside Yuuri is broken. “No!” he exclaims, “I love flowers! Flowers never grow in my Realm. It’s just- are you sure-?” he flails a little.

“I’ve never been surer,” Day says, and he presses the flowers into Yuuri’s arms. “We’ve known each other since the dawn of time, but we’ve never talked much, have we?”

“There wasn’t much to talk about, back then,” Yuuri replies, memory flashing back to when they had just been two boys in a meadow.

Day chuckles a little. It’s a sad sound. “You’re right. I wish we had talked, though, because your voice is beautiful and I’ve clearly been missing out on hearing it.”

Yuuri’s face flushes at the compliment. “I- uh-”

“I named myself Victor,” Days cuts him off, and his gaze is focused on Yuuri with an unwavering intensity. “Did you give yourself a name, Night?”

“Victor?” Yuuri tests the name on his tongue. It’s a good name, he thinks, one befitting Day. “No, I never named myself. One of the stars named me.” Hiroko had. She had been one of the first stars made, from a shard that had fallen off the Sun. “They call me Yuuri.”

A funny expression comes across Day- Victor’s face. “Yuuri,” he repeats. “How funny, it sounds like the name of my Herald of Dawn. His name is Yuri.”

Huh, what coincidence. Yuuri expresses this, and Victor laughs.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Phichit calls from a distance, “We have a night to set up, you can talk later!”

Yuuri blushes again, and Victor smiles warmly at him, and after they switch the Sun and the Moon again, they have barely any time for one last exchange.

“I’ll see you at Dawn, Yuuri!”

“I look forward to it!”

Yuuri had always looked forwards to the Dawn, to seeing Day, but now he feels more excited about it than usual. He wonders if Da- Victor feels the same.

Things are different from that point on. They talk at Dawn and Dusk now, and Yuuri no longer returns flowers. Victor doesn’t give him anymore flowers, either, because Yuuri had told him that flowers wilt all too fast in his realm, even though he loves them.

They call each other by name, now, and every time Victor says Yuuri’s name, Yuuri feels his chest fill with some unidentifiable emotion. It’s wonderful and elating and Yuuri loves it.

Somehow, they catch up on the millenia of silence in a short amount of time, one that blurs together because of how enjoyable it had been. Yuuri doesn’t know exactly how long it had been since and Victor had first started talking, but he doesn’t care about how long, even though it is always only at Dawn and Dusk, when their domains overlap.

Sometimes, Yuuri wishes there was a land that could have Day and Night at the same time, so he would be able to stay with Victor forever.

It had been... surprising, to find out how lonely Victor was. How he was always worshipped, looked upon adoringly, how the Herald of Dawn prefers the company of cats instead. How no one really wanted to spend time with him — until he and Yuuri had started talking. Yuuri wishes he could bring Day to his Realm someday, to meet the Stars that keep Yuuri company and paint the night sky. Meet Hiroko, who had named him, and Minako, who had taught him to dance.

Sometimes, they dance together instead of talk, discarding their cloaks for ease of movement and spinning across the meadow together. Those times are always wonderful, and Yuuri hates how Dusk and Dawn are so short compared to how long he and Victor must spend apart.

Other times, they don human glamours and see how mortals have progressed. Those times are exciting, because every time they do, Yuuri feels like he and Victor are not millennia-old existences — feels like he and Victor are as young as the humans they appear, living in the now of the moment instead of the unceasing life they’ve always had.

“So I was right,” Phichit says, smug.

Yuuri sighs. “Yes you were, Phichit.”

The Herald of Dusk winks cheekily before traipsing away.

“I love flowers,” Yuuri says, twirling a daffodil in his fingers as they lean against each other one Dawn, sitting on their spread-out cloaks. They watch as it wilts in his touch. “I’m too cold for them, though. The celestial flowers you bring me last longer, but they wilt eventually, too. No flowers grow in my realm.”

Victor hums, the cogs of an idea starting to turn. “What if there was a flower that bloomed under the Moon instead of the Sun?” He moves to wrap his hand around Yuuri’s waist, enjoying the contrast in their body heat. He feels Yuuri relax into his touch, and the ease that they have sends his heart into a couple of excited backflips.

“That would be wonderful,” Yuuri murmurs.

The moment is broken by an angry Herald of Dawn telling them to get a move on, but it stays with Victor for a long time. It becomes his new mission now, something to work on.

From what Yuuri has told him, his Realm is cold and rocky. Precious stones grow instead of flowers, and his Stars tend to use them to make the night sky prettier. It is always nighttime there, of course, just as Victor’s Realm is always daytime.

So he creates a flower that is hardy, will grow in cold and difficult areas. He steals a bit of moonlight to color the petals, shapes the blooms so that they are round like the Moon, and smiles in satisfaction as the completed ones close under the Sun’s light. Moonflowers, he decides to call them.

His heart is in his throat as he weaves them into a crown, one to fit on Yuuri’s head, and waits for when they next meet at Dusk.

“Flowers?” Yuuri’s voice betrays his surprise. Victor shifts uneasily, praying that his creation grows as he designed it to. “They’re lovely, Victor. I’ve never seen these ones before.”

“Because they’re new,” Victor blurts. Yuuri looks at him in a confused but endearing manner. “I made them for you. They’re special.”

“Special?” Yuuri echoes.

Victor rests the flower crown on Yuuri’s head, admires how the white buds complement the circlet of stars and stand out to the black of Yuuri’s hair. He smiles at Yuuri, and looks up to the sky to coax the Sun down. “Just put the Moon up, and you’ll see.”

Yuuri tosses up the Moon, and as it ascends, Victor nudges him towards a nearby pond.

The expression that Yuuri makes is one that sears into Victor’s memory for the rest of eternity. His mouth drops a little, and he puts his hands to his cheeks in surprise at his reflection. He moves to take the flower crown off, but Victor swats his hands down and holds out a small bouquet of moonflowers. The blossoms are just starting to open under the moonlight.

“What are these?” Yuuri whispers, stunned.

Victor can’t help but brush a finger against Yuuri’s cheek. “I call them Moonflowers. I made them for you — they should be able to grow in your Realm. They open under the Moon, and close under the Sun. Do-” Victor swallows anxiously, “So you like them?”

“I love them,” Yuuri gasps, and throws himself into Victor’s chest for a hug. “I love you. Thank you, Victor.”

It feels like Victor’s heart has finally returned to him, with Yuuri in his arms and both of them full of happiness and delight. He had wanted to return to the unity and peace that they had had in the past, once, but this... this is better. He wouldn’t trade this for anything.

“I love you too, Yuuri.” They don’t mean that word, at all, because love is a word from humans and neither of them are humans — but it is an adequate descriptor for how they feel. Only adequate, because what they share is much more than that, cannot be packaged neatly into a human word.

Victor understands what Yuuri means anyways, and Yuuri does too.

“A Land of Eternal Twilight?” Phichit frowns thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“I know you haven’t.” Yuuri paces his castle, wringing his hands. “I- just- do you think we could do it? Victor and I?”

Phichit hums, bites his lip. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe? The easiest way, I think, would be to bridge yours and Victor’s Realms somehow. The place in-between would be stuck between Night and Day, so essentially twilight. It would take a lot of power, though.” He laughs. “But you’re the Ruler of Night, and he’s the King of Day, so between the both of you I bet it’ll be a piece of cake.”

The worry falls from Yuuri’s face, and he smiles. Smirks, actually. “Thanks, Phichit!” he calls before dashing off somewhere.

“I’m going to be your best man for the wedding, right!?”

“What’s a best man?”

“I don’t know, it’s part of the human custom, but I want to be it!”

“Okay, you can.”

“Score!”

They marry with the Sun and Moon hanging in the sky. The humans call it an eclipse.

The Land of Eternal Twilight is a grassy plane that bridges between their Realms. It is never entirely day or entirely night, as it should be, and the castle there is a literal combination of the King of Day and the Ruler of Night’s castles. They hadn’t seen the practicality of making a new one, and had just cut their castles in half and put them together to make one for them both.

The Stars and the Fae folk are able to meet in this land, and the night sky suddenly gains new, playful designs, and the daytime clouds start moving in musical sequences instead of simply floating.

There is a legend goes like this:

Once upon a time, at the beginning of the world, there was no Sun and no Moon. But one day, two children, black-haired and blond-haired, playing in the dim world, got lost in a strange wood and came across two bright objects in a meadow.

As children tend to be, they were curious about these objects, which were the brightest things that they had ever seen. The blond one picked up the yellow sphere, and the black-haired one picked up the silver one. Unknown to them, these were the Sun and the Moon.

They played with the Sun and the Moon as one would play with balls - tossing them in the air, bouncing them on the ground. Sometimes they threw one the Sun the sky and let it stay there, and thus the days were born. Sometimes, they wanted to play with the Sun, and threw the Moon up instead, and the nights were born.

One day, the a piece of the Sun broke, and the Night-child picked up the shard and under his influence, the shard shattered into pieces and from each one, a Star was born. The Stars followed the Night-child, and he ruled them while they worked to make the Night Sky beautiful. Thus, the Ruler of Night was born.

The Day-child was left without a playmate, and turned his radiance to the rest of the world instead, and the Fae flocked to him, declaring him the brightest of all. The Fae decided to help the Day-child make clouds to decorate the daytime sky. Thus, the King of Day was born.

It ends like this:

Two children had been rendered immortal ever since they picked up the Sun and the Moon. Now they are no longer children, but they shed light all the same, and love each other as much as they did back then.

Once, two boys laid side-by-side in a meadow.

Now, they lie in each other’s arms, in their castle in a Land of Eternal Twilight, where Day and Night blur together forever and Stars and Fae Folk can both call home.

Fin.

Notes:

In case it's not clear why Yuuri left in the first place: the Stars sprung from the shard of the Sun that he picked up, and he needed to watch over them. Eventually they deemed him their ruler, and he got saddled with accidental responsibility.

Their Realms are planes of existence which are not on the human realm.

#yuri on ice #yoi fanfic #yuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #victuuri #fanfiction #plot writes stuff #day and night au

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