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tortillamastersblog · 5 months ago

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꧁ Angels Don’t Cry - Part 3 | Mor ꧂

Pairing: Mor x reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, injuries, blood, kidnapping, vomiting and explicit language

Summary: After Hybern’s defeat, the Inner Circle makes a grave discovery in the late King’s dungeons. . .

Next Part | Masterlist

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The bell above the bakery’s entrance door chimes, signaling a customer has entered the shop, so I put down the piping bag I was just using and take off my apron. “I’ll be right with you, one second please.”

We’re about to close and I’m the only one left in the shop after today’s busy day.

I hand my apron on the hook on the wall and make sure my hands are clean before making my way to the front of the shop where the display area is.

“Good evening,” I say , not really looking at the customer as I make sure the cash register is closed. “How can I help you?”

There’s no reply, so I stop sweeping some crumbs off the countertop and look up with a frown.

Standing there dressed in a thick black coat and a bright red scarf is Mor. Her nose and cheeks are pink from the cold outside and her hair is hidden beneath a wool hat that matches her scarf in color.

“Uhm. . . Hi, what can I get for you?” I ask again, straightening up and ruffling my wings slightly.

Since our fight and moving into my own apartment I haven’t seen her and I can honestly say that I haven’t missed her much. However, now that she’s standing in front of me my heart happily skips a beat and I curse my body for reacting like this every time she’s around.

She insulted me and hurt me to no end and I should be mad at her, but when I look at her all I feel is this emptiness in the pit of my stomach.

“H-Hi,” she stutters timidly which takes me by surprise.

I’ve never heard her stutter before. This is Mor, the Morrigan who fought in the war and slayed more enemies than I can even imagine, and yet her she is, stumbling over her words like a common fool.

She watches me warily for a reaction and when I don’t give her one, she averts her eyes to the display case in front of her. “I. . . Could I-uh-please get a slice of. . . that chocolate-strawberry tart?”

I nod wordlessly and grab the tart from the case. I set it on the counter and take one of the slices and put it into a small cardboard box before putting the rest of the tart back.

“Anything else?” I ask, hyper aware of the brown eyes following my every move. I close the box with a couple of practiced folds before looking back up.

Once again, Mor is quick to avert her eyes. I notice how she tugs and pulls at her own fingers in front of her, but don’t comment on it.

It is unusual for someone of her status to go out and buy her own food, which is why I was surprised to see her here in the first place, but as the seconds go by and she still doesn’t order anything else it becomes abundantly clear that she didn’t come her for the baked goods.

“Y/N. . .”

There it is again, that tug on my insides. I clench my teeth and will the feeling to go away.

I stare at her expectantly, but other than my name nothing else comes out of her mouth. Outside, the snow whips through the lit streets and people scramble to get inside.

“Anything else?” I ask again, only this time I’m aware of the double meaning of it.

Mor gulps which inadvertently draws my attention to her half-covered throat. “I. . . No, that’s it.”

I nod curtly and go to the register to ring up her order. “That’ll be 3.99 then.”

She fishes around in her pocket, another sign that she didn’t come in here with the intention of buying anything before pulling out some change and handing it to me.

I go to count it because it’s definitely too much, but she quickly tells me to keep the change before grabbing the cardboard box.

Then, she’s gone without another word which makes me frown in confusion.

“What in the Cauldron’s name was that?” I whisper to myself before going back into the back of the shop where I finish decorating the cake I was working on.

“You’re here!” Feyre exclaims. She ushers me into the Town House before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.

I laugh and hug her back, dropping the bag of gifts I brought with me. I did manage to find a gift for everyone after all, including Mor and Cassian. It’s Winter Solstice after all, and even though I don’t plan on interacting with either of them too much tonight, I thought getting each of them a gift as well would be the polite thing to do.

“Well, I said I’d be here, didn’t I?” I teased which makes Feyre punch me gently after breaking our hug. I laugh and take off my jacket, hanging it next to the door.

“Everyone else is already here and they’ve all had quite a bit to drink already, so get ready for that,” she warns which makes me chuckle as I pick up my bag of gifts again.

“It’s nothing I’ve not seen before, so lead the way,” I say just as a drunken shout from one of the guys echoes down the hallway.

Feyre laughs and I follow her into the living room with a small smile on my face. There, sprawled out on all the couches and high-backed chairs is everyone, including Lucien whom I haven’t seen in quite a while.

At first, no one notices our arrival, but then Azriel’s eyes land on me and he beams as he gets to his feet. “Hi!”

Before I know it I’m pulled into a hug and I freeze, not knowing what to do. He’s never hugged me before, not this carefree at least, but I quickly get over myself and hug him back.

“Hello, you look nice,” I compliment with a smirk when he pulls back. He’s wearing a dark shirt I helped him pick out the other day and a pair of slim dress pants.

It’s not too different from what I’m wearing apart from the jewelry. While he’s wearing a thin silver chain around his neck, I’m only wearing a simple golden ring on my left middle finger.

He got it for me when we went shopping the other day and I’ve not taken it off ever since. It has our mother’s name engraved on it on the inside and when I saw it the first time I teared up.

Azriel smiles crookedly, the effect of the alcohol he’s already consumed glaringly obvious. “You don’t look too bad either.”

I scoff and shove him away just in time to embrace Elain in a hug. She’s wearing a dress similar in shape to Feyre’s, but while her sister dress is a midnight blue covered in glittering gems, hers is a simple dark green.

Rhysand is next to greet me with a polite hug and a squeeze to my shoulder. “I’m happy you came. Make yourself at home, please.”

I thank him with a polite nod and smile at Amren and Nesta who simply lift their hands in greeting from their position on the couch.

“Y/N?” Cassian’s deep voice behind me makes me turn around. He’s holding out a glass of wine, smiling hesitantly and even though we’re far from being on good terms again, I accept his peace offering and thank him quietly.

It’s going to take some time to trust him again, but he’s been making an effort ever since what happened. He keeps apologizing and even helped me build some of my furniture.

Lucien shakes my hand with a polite smile and jokes about the size of my gift bag which makes my lips twitch. I can see why Feyre likes him and if it weren’t for the incessant tug on my insides I would even consider him attractive.

The last of the bunch to greet me is Mor who jumped to her feet the moment Feyre and I entered the room. She stayed back however and waited for everyone to greet me before slowly making her way over.

Cassian and Azriel are on one of the couches now, shoving each other around and fighting over another bottle of wine. Nesta, Elain and Amren are on the other couch, chatting with Lucien who’s standing by the fireplace and Feyre and Rhysand are on the armchair.

While the two of them seem to be in a conversation of their own, I can see Feyre warily glancing in my direction every so often as Mor makes her way to me.

Raising an eyebrow, she silently asks whether I’m okay with what’s happening and I nod subtly before taking a sip of wine and turning my attention to the blonde who’s now next to me.

“You look nice tonight,” she states softly, keeping her eyes on the wineglass in her hand.

It seems as though she’s not out for another fight, so I sigh and say, “So do you.”

And it’s true. She looks nice tonight, beautiful, really, but I’m not going to say that to her face. She’s wearing a long, one-shoulder, a-line dress that matches her maroon lipstick and her blonde hair is in a high ponytail. It reveals her smooth neck and shoulders, the sight of which makes me swallow thickly before looking away.

“Thank you.” She looks up and smiles tentatively. “I. . . I really liked your tart.”

“Huh?” I raise my eyebrows and take another sip of my wine.

“The chocolate-strawberry tart,” she elaborates quietly. “It was delicious.”

“Oh.” I almost forgot about that. Her coming into the shop was awkward, so I wasn’t expecting her to bring it up. “Right. . . I’m glad you liked it.”

Mor smiles once more, a quick lift of the corner of her lips, before she averts her eyes again.

Silence settles around us and I direct my attention to Azriel and Cassian who are now full on wrestling on the ground.

“I told you I’m stronger,” Cassian grunts as he pins Azriels to the ground.

“Maybe, but can you do this?” Azriel counters before vanishing in a cloud of shadows only to return a second later, this time on top of Cassian who is now pinned to the floor, face down.

“That’s cheating!” The general whines which makes everyone laugh.

I chuckle quietly as well, but then Mor’s shoulder brushes against my arm and I freeze. I keep my eyes on Azriel and swallow thickly, but don’t pull away.

“Y/N?” Her brown eyes bore into the side of my head, but I keep my eyes trained on Azriel who is now being pulled off his brother by Rhysand.

“Y/N?” Mor tries again, but I don’t react. As much as her shoulder brushing against me sends sparks through me, I can’t forget what she said to me.

I bet you really are a filthy spy. . . I bet Feyre would hate to know that you’re defiling her sister. . .

Tensing, I take a step away from her and clear my throat.

Feyre’s eyes are already on us and when she sees my discomfort, she gets to her feet and say, “Okay, everyone I think we should wrap this up in here. Dinner will be ready any minute now, so why don’t we head to the dining room.”

I thank her with a little nod and go to follow everyone filing out of the room only to be stopped by a tug on my sleeve.

“Wait, Y/N,” Mor pleads, her soft voice making my heart sink. “Can I talk to you for a second? Please?

I bet you really are a filthy spy. . .

I pull my arm out of her grasp and shake my head. I hate how much of an effect she has on me, especially in that dress, but I’m still hurt and I don’t want to talk to her because it will probably end in a fight again. “No. There’s nothing to talk about and dinner is ready, so we should go and join the others.”

I turn to leave again, but stop dead in my tracks when Mor blurts out, “I was scared, okay?”

“Excuse me?” I set down my glass of wine and cross my arms. We’re the only ones left in the room now and I know it’s only a matter of time before Feyre returns to rescue me from whatever this is.

“I was scared,” Mor says again, although this time it lacks confidence. “You asked me why I treated you the way I did a-and it’s because I was scared. I still am, actually. . .”

My wings twitch uncontrollably at all the emotions cursing through me. I’m still hurt, but now I’m also confused and intrigued. “You’re scared? Of what? Of me?”

“No!” She’s quick to shake her head. “Not of you. . . The day we found you in your cell—“

“Y/N? Mor?”

As if on cue, Feyre appears in the doorway with a raised eyebrow. Her eyes dart between me and the blonde before settling on me with a questioning look.

Are you okay? What’s happening? she asks against the shields in my mind.

I’m fine. Nothing’s happening, but thanks for the rescue.

Feyre dips her chin ever so slightly in acknowledgment and asks, “You guys coming, or what?“

Mor eyes me desperately, obviously wanting to continue our conversation, but I nod in Feyre’s direction and gesture for her to lead the way.

I am curious what Mor was going to say, but I’m not in the right headspace to stomach it all now, so I follow Feyre without sparing the blonde another glance.

Dinner went by without a hitch and if I’m honest it was quite pleasant, actually. I chatted with everyone, except Mor, and enjoyed the food.

Now I’m sitting on a bench in the garden, having snuck out a couple of minutes ago to escape the drunken idiots inside.

It’s cold, but Rhysand’s magic warms the space just enough to make sitting outside without a jacket bearable.

I can’t stop thinking about what Mor said about being scared and the fact that she explicitly told me she wasn’t scared of me. What else could she be scared of then? She’s the Morrigan for crying out loud and as far as I know the only thing she’s scared of, if you can even call it that, is her father.

“Things are getting pretty wild in there.”

I chuckle and turn to find Elain making her way toward me. Her cheeks are red from the alcohol she’s had, but her eyes are clear as she smiles at me. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” She takes a seat next to me and shuffles closer for a little warmth. “Amren and Cassian are doing shots and Rhysand and Feyre are sucking face in the middle of the living room.”

I snort and drape an arm over her shoulder when I notice the goosebumps on her skin. “Yikes. So I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time before something breaks, or someone gets hurt.”

Elain nods and rests her head on my shoulder. “Yeah. . . Hey, uh, can I ask you something?”

I watch a nearby rose sway in the breeze and nudge her gently. “Sure.”

She’s silent for a moment, contemplating her words. “Have you ever— I don’t know— had this feeling that something in your life was missing?”

I go to shake my head, but then something tugs on my insides and for the first time I recognize what it is. It’s longing. . . For what, I’m not sure, but it’s there and it’s strong. “I guess so, but why are you asking?“

Elain takes a deep breath and clasps her hands together. “I feel this emptiness in my chest sometimes, but then when I’m with all of you, it’s somehow better, but even then, it’s still not completely gone.”

I frown but stay silent until she adds, “It’s like this pull in the pit of my stomach and—“

“Pull?” I ask. “You mean like a tug?”

She nods, not bothered that I interrupted her. “Yeah, like a tug. . . and I don’t know what it means.”

I smile and squeeze her shoulder. “I know how you feel, I feel it too, sometimes, but I have yet to figure out what it means.”

Elain groans. “I hate this.”

I laugh and spread my wings as far as they’ll go before tucking them back in. “Welcome to the club. . .”

We sit in silence and enjoy the fresh sir for a couple more minutes before deciding to head back inside. When we re-enter the living room everything is as Elain described it.

Feyre and Rhysand are all over each other and Amren and Cassian are still doing shots by the fireplace, both of them being cheered on by Lucien and Nesta who are just as drunk.

The only one not participating in the fun is Mor who��s standing by the window with her back turned.

“Look who made it back!” Cassian howls, draping an arm over Elain’s shoulders. He doesn’t dare touch me, but he smiles drunkenly and points at me. “We thought you two might have gotten lost in the snow.”

Elain shrugs his arm off and clings to Nesta who tucks a strand of her sister’s hair behind her ear. “They’re not as daft as you can be, so I wasn’t worried,” Nesta shoots back with a menacing smirk which makes Cassian smile even more.

I smile at the scene, but the exhaustion that settled in the pit of my stomach earlier catches up to me and makes me yawn.

I was supposed to stay the night in one of the house’s guest rooms, but the thought of sharing a bed with Azriel when he’s drunk makes my skin crawl, so I slowly slip out of the room unnoticed and make my way home after putting on my coat.

I’m not too worried about leaving without saying goodbye because come morning no one will even remember it especially when I return in time for breakfast and opening presents.

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#x reader #morrigan x reader #mor x reader #mor acotar #acotar #light angst

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crepesuzette2023 · 1 year ago

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“To the best of our ability Paul!”: The Paperback Writer session [and fashion show]

By Johnny Dean. From: The Beatles Book Monthly, Issue 35. June 1966.

As we walked down the corridor towards E.M.I.’s No. 2 studio (where else would one go when sitting-in on a Beatles recording session), the commissionaire pointed out to us that the boys were in No. 3 instead. So we made our way back to the front of the building and as we approached the studio door, the red light went on—which meant that they were recording. So we waited for them to finish. Three minutes later we walked in.

On entering the studio, we found John and Paul surrounded by a mass of equipment—most significant of all, were their new massive amplifiers. Paul was clad in his distinctive casual recording gear of black trousers, black moccasin-type shoes, white shirt with fawn stripes, a black sleeveless pullover and to top it all orange—tinted specs. John sported green velvet trousers, a blue buttoned up wool vest and black suede boots.

The basic track of "Paperback Writer" had been recorded the previous day, and now John and Paul were working out a detailed backing. Paul was perched on a stool thumbing away at a red and white Rickenbacker guitar, (moving with the music as he does on stage) whilst the Iyrics boomed through the studio speakers—so we were very honoured at being the first to hear their new single besides George Martin and of course, the Beatles.

We then spotted Ringo's head behind the screen in the far corner—he was playing chess with Neil. So we walked over. "Who's winning?", I asked. "Neil's the expert”, Ringo replied, and went back to the chess board to concentrate on how to get his king out of danger from an attack by Neil's bishop and castle.

The music stopped. George Martin came into the studio from the control room to have a tete-a-tete with Paul as to what they could do to improve the backing.

"What are you trying to do with this one?", I asked Paul. "Have you heard the lyrics?", came the reply. "Yes, I think it's very unusual”. "The trouble is", said Paul,"That we've done everything we can with four people, so it's always a problem to ring the changes and make it sound different. That's why we have got all these guitars and equipment here." That must have been the understatement of the year, because the studio was littered with pianos, grand pianos, amplifiers, guitars, percussion instruments, and other odd bits and pieces which were strewn over the studio floor.

The studio was sectioned-off with brown canvas screens and what seemed like thousands of black cables running from the amps and other electrical equipment to the control room over the heavily marked wooden floor. To stop the echo, E.M.I. have covered some of the floor with old carpets.

The big heavy sound-proof door which stops any of the noise of the outside world seeping into the studio, burst open, and in strolled George looking very elegant in his Mongolian lamb fur coat with black cap and oblong metal specs.

He was obviously on top of the world and bubbling over with enthusiasm, ready to record a dozen numbers. He threw his coat along side Paul's fur jacket and got down to work out the backing with John and Paul.

John, George and George Martin huddled round Paul, who was seated at the piano trying to work out a bass bit, before asking George Martin to play it. John leaned on the piano while he listened to Paul's ideas for a while. Then he picked up his orange Gretsch guitar and proceeded to pick away at it. At the same time Paul transferred to a Vox organ.

Although John and Paul were both working on the song together, it was originally Paul's idea. He asked the engineer to play it back at half speed so that John and George could do some vocal bits.

They were now all set to go. George Martin gave the O.K. The recording light went on and the basic sound track was played back through the "cans" they each had clamped over their heads. They did several takes. John and George hit some very high notes, but their voices kept cracking. "I don't think I can make it" said George, "unless I have a cup of tea. Where’s Mal?”

Right on cue at the end of the fourth take Mal emerged into the studio laden with tea, biscuits and something very special—toast and strawberry jam. Everything was immediately dropped and a sudden swoop was made on the toast and jam. Ringo, who was still in the corner trying to work out his next move, only got one piece of toast, so Mal offered to make another batch as it had proved so popular.

Meanwhile Beatles Book photographer Leslie Bryce was clicking away.

After the toast and jam had been devoured it was back to work. Paul suddenly got an inspiration he dived across to the piano and started playing bits of "Free Jacques" he was highly delighted at the thought of having it in the new single.

"O.K. let's try it", said George Martin. So John and George gathered round the mike and off they went. But it was a false start. Paul's head appeared over the top of the piano and he queried "Did you come in at the right place?". "We can't hear it properly" , said John, "anyway I thought that was the end of it.” George promptly told him it was the beginning!

After they had finished taping these bits, the tracks were played back into the studio while everyone listened in silence. George Martin was the first to speak-"I think that the best thing we've added are the 'Frere Jacques’ bits. Ringo who had finally beaten Neil at a game of chess by check-mating him in several brilliant moves involving a queen, a bishop and a castle, said that he thought John and Paul sounded as though they were singing through water! Highly uncomplimentary, so Paul then made for the organ once again and started to work out a sound which resembled that of Scottish bag pipes.

John then came swooping across the studio and shouted out—“You've got it. You've got it". Paul then started dum-dee-dumming away at everyone else—it was just like a scene from "My Fair Lady”!

George Martin appeared over John's shoulder and said "I see what you mean”. Paul announced that someone else should play it—meaning George Martin. John and George then went back to their mikes and added the vocals over the top.

After the first track Paul looked over the top of the piano and asked John and George if they were singing it right.

George turned round, lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose and looked down at Paul in a typical school-masterish fashion and said "To the best of our ability Paul!" And so the boys went on getting the sound that you will hear on "Paperback Writer”.

It was a long session. It took something like ten hours to record because the Beatles insisted on sticking at it until they were completely satisfied that they can do no more.

When you listen to "Paperback Writer" bear in mind what went on beforehand to achieve this really great sound, and I'm sure you'll appreciate it all the more.

"The very first shot of Paul we took when we arrived in the studio." (Photo by Leslie Bryce)

"Paul's hit on something. Waving his 'ciggie' he dee-dums his way through the bit he's just thought up while George sings with him." (Photo by Leslie Bryce)

Ringo's chess pieces and John's green velvet trousers. (Photos by Leslie Bryce)

#the beatles #george martin #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #mal evans #paperback writer #lots to unpack #lots to unzip #George had so much more fun here than in Get Back #Paul and George Martin comma huddling #amazing creative energy #ten hours

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crossary · 2 years ago

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something I made up in my mind.

Muzan x Female! Reader

- - - - - ☆

Soft footsteps could be heard echoing throughout the vast and desolate street. It was a rainy day. Usually you'd enjoy it, but today something told you to not, so you didn't do your thing. You didn't play in the rain like you used to do. You were grown up now, and nothing could change that fact.

Suddenly, you turn around to see a man. A man with a white trench coat. He seemed to be holding an umbrella over him. When you looked at his umbrella, he gave you a perplexed look. "I couldn't help but to see you walking in the rain. Let me help you. I can't stand seeing such a pretty being getting drenched in the rain. Don't worry, it will hold the two of us." The man says.

When you saw him light a small little cigar, you could see his face clearly. Pale skin, beautiful black hair, plum red eyes with slits for pupils. Like a cat, you thought. His complexion was very pretty, and to you it looked perfect. Absolutely beautiful.

You nod as the two of you were now walking in the rain. You knew demons existed. In fact, you're even training to become a Hashira at the moment, so it completely shocked you that you needed help...from a demon. You knew that such Demon King exists, and here you two are. Walking side by side under the rain. Although...no one told you of his name.

"I'm intrigued. You haven't landed an attack on me yet. Why's that?" The person asked. "I will not answer for those who will not speak their name." You said, obviously uninterested by this conversation. He narrowed his eyes before clearing his throat. "I don't know if you know who you're dealing with, Demon Slayer. I am Muzan Kibutsuji, the original and the first ever demon to set foot on this disgusting planet." Muzan said. You kind of narrowed your eyes at him too. Tension grew with the both of you and you knew something — You did not like the tension.

"Y/N L/N" You said calmly. "The reason as to why I have not attacked you yet? You'll have to find that out yourself. I do not give answers so easily. I make people work to get the answer they so helplessly desire." You said in a cold manner. He was quite intrigued by how you sound. By how you word things. "You intrigue me, Human." Muzan said with a hint of interest. "Oh please that's what everyone says." You say, dismissing that comment he made.

"It's always 'Oh my god you intrigued me!' 'Lets be friends cause you're different!' 'Surprising act from you' but people just don't look at me in the inside." You say. "Interesting. And what do you say about humanity? Is it pulling at your very core? Is it draining the life out of you? Don't you wish for that draining to stop?" Muzan chimed. He seemed a little too manipulative. Easy giveaway.

"Sorry but you should try harder to cover your manipulative side." You say, smirking at him. You then put a hand under his chin. "I'll think about it." And with that, your hand fell from under his chin. You turned and faintly smiled before walking into the rain. It wasn't raining as much now, but it was still pretty bad. Muzan watched you leave. Watched you depart from under the umbrella. He touched his chin lightly and he didn't know why, but he felt a tiny blush spread on his face. Muzan thought about it before chuckling to himself.

"Till' we meet again, Y/N."

- 𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑛 ✩

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #kny muzan #demon slayer muzan #anime #x reader #kny x reader

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nekohime19 · 5 months ago

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Heart behind the lie # 26 : wolves and love

Wukong is questioning a lot of things today

“You're okay Monkey King? You look…tired.” Asked MK as he turned towards the sage, compass still in hand, one needle stubbornly pointing east. The sage immediately straightened, hiding his unease with a plastic smile, crossing his arms behind his head to appear unbothered.

“I'm not tired at all, bud ! Just kinda gets boring here.” The lie rolled off so easily, he could almost believe it himself. He was, in fact, tired, emotionally tired. He spent the last few hours worrying about the way Macaque's lips tasted against his. Worrying about how this could either change their whole dynamic, or crush any hopes he ever dared to have about their blossoming friendship. Macaque said to leave it at that, for now. And he was right, because there were quite a lot to sort out and this was neither the time, nor the place for this. But still, Sun Wukong couldn't restrain the thoughts shooting in his mind, he couldn't control the way his heart was leaping out of his chest for the last few hours. The sage tried to hide it all, they just had rejoined the others after a long, tortuous walk, he couldn't let himself be pulled by his own thoughts. He has to push them away, no matter how enticing they were. “Leggo! The faster we walk, the faster we get out of here!”

MK narrowed his eyes, seemingly unconvinced by his poor acting, but he said nothing of it and turned towards the others.

“Yeah, okay. Leggo!” The kid cheerfully resumed their walk, in the front, like always. From what he was seeing through his gold coated eyes, the group was relatively unscathed. Tang did have an ugly, ruby red slash on his left arm, but nothing threatening.

Apparently, the group had been attacked by “shadow beasts” while the two monkeys were swallowed by the floor, at least that's what they described them as. They got ambushed almost immediately after the two monkeys disappeared, it happened fast. One minute they were searching, the other they were circled by growling masses of writhing black smoke. Fortunately, light (more specifically fire) seemed enough to scare them away, for now.

They tried to ask Macaque about the nature of those beasts, after all he was the one dwelling in shadows. But the black furred monkey didn't seem to recognize anything, according to him there were a lot of creatures related to shadows, writhing forms and fear of light were common in, at least, two dozen of shadow related species. Even so, the macaque assured that as long as they huddled close to a source of light, the beasts wouldn't dare come closer, especially since he was here. Even if weakened, Macaque was still a powerful master of darkness, shadows related beasts feared him as much as they admired him.

“Are we ever gonna find this damn lantern piece?” Groaned the dragon girl, she threw her arms in the air, defeated.

“If the walls just didn't move every two seconds, maybe.” Huffed Red Son as he glared at the almost organic walls that circled them.

“I think we might be going in circles.” Sighed the scholar as he huddled closer to the pig.

“Great. We're never going to leave this place.” Groaned Pigsy, he let the bespectacled men come as close as he wanted, perhaps more willing to spoil him when he was hurt.

“I can… maybe do something.” Sighed the macaque as he leaned over a wall, frost growing on the tip of his nose. Sun Wukong glanced at him, eyes falling on his head side (internally whining at the lack of ears, the shadow monkey hid them the second they reunited with the others). Macaque was on the far left of the group, the far end to Wukong, advancing carefully (not as slowly as when he inhaled the smoke, for the sage's relief), hands always trailing the wall, perhaps trying to sense the way they moved and trembled.

“Really!?”Cheerfully asked MK as he turned towards the warrior, his shining eyes cutting against the dark.

“I don't know if it's gonna work.” Mumbled the macaque as he straightened himself.

“Is it dangerous?” Questioned the sage with narrowed eyes, Macaque awkwardly shifted on his feet, something unnoticed by the group but clear like crystal in his eyes.

“It could be? I… I want to call those shadow beasts you mentioned earlier.”

“Why? For them to eat us like snacks?” Huffed the pig with crossed arms.

“… If those beasts recognize me as their, hm, superior, they could help us. I find it strange that they live here, they might have been lured by the lantern in the first place, it was a shadow related artifact, after all.” Carefully explained Macaque.

“Really? I say it's a perfect place for creepy shadow monsters.” Scorned the dragon girl, hand grabbing her sword's handle.

“No. Shadows don't do well in complete darkness, in fact, shadows don't exist in complete darkness. They need light, they crave it.” The warrior glanced at the sage for a second. “Even if it can hurt them. It's a duality for shadow beings, fearing and loving the light.”

“What will happen if those beasts don't recognize you?” Asked Red Son.

“They'll attack us.” Curtly replied Macaque, absolutely certain of the outcome.

“Then it settled. We don't do it.” Cut the sage as he crossed his arms, unwilling to let the shadow monkey waste this much magic when he was already weakened.

“Then do you have another solution?” Huffed the warrior, he turned towards him, eyes narrowed, as if challenging him. Sun Wukong thinned his lips in a curt line, hands fisted in his own hoodie. He held the warrior's gaze, unrelenting, not willing to let the other do something that could endanger everyone, and himself. He was planning on holding it for as long as he could, but his eyes fell, for only one second, on the macaque's lips, and he turned away, cheeks reddened.

“Macaque is not wrong. The compass is kinda useless, it only points in one direction, it doesn't take the damn moving walls in consideration. The Lady Bone Demon really doesn't know what a good GPS is.” Sighed the kid, he glared at the compass while saying this.

“Besides, we can defend ourselves!” Chimed Mei as she brandished her sword, the jade glint of the blade cutting in the dark. Sun Wukong glared at them, but he was cut by the scholar before he could open his mouth.

“Let's vote.” Proposed Tang, ever the peacemaker.

Sun Wukong, Pigsy and Tang voted against the idea, while the kids and Macaque voted in favor. The sage accepted it reluctantly, he tried to approach the warrior and propose some of his magic, but Macaque walked away from him, sitting on the front, perhaps not wanting to accept it while he was watched by others. Sun Wukong sighed, saddened by the other avoidance, but didn't insist, this wasn't the time for feelings.

Macaque sat cross-legged, eyes closed, tail lazily swishing behind him. The sage shivered, he felt the shadows around them thickening, moving, almost as if they were converging towards the macaque. The temperature around them dropped, the already cold cave array becoming more and more chilling. Sun Wukong watched as his breath became almost frigid, as frost nipped at his fur, freezing ginger strands. A howl echoed deep in the cave array, a chilling voice distorted by something unnatural, outworldly.

Soon, they heard steps and growls coming from ahead, numerous paws hitting the floor, breaths mingling in one single song. Beasts emerged, shadowed wolves devoid of solid forms, with eyes made of darkness itself. They stopped a few meters before Macaque, eyeing him warily, pacing as if a barrier separated them from the black furred monkey. Macaque rose from the floor, unbothered by the growls of the wolves.

“Don't take a single step forward.” Warned Macaque as he approached the pack. He was cautious, eyes trained on the wolf at the forefront, the biggest one. He lowered himself, walking on all four, showing his fangs each time the wolves dared to step back. He stood before the biggest wolf, probably the alpha, tail nervously swishing on the floor. The wolves circled him, blocking the other's view. Sun Wukong took a step forward, eyebrows furrowed, ready to pounce if those beasts dared to hurt his moon. He was held back by Pigsy, the chef firmly clutching his sleeve.

“He told ya to wait, didn't he?”Asked the pig.

“But he's circled.” Growled the King.

“Then have faith in him.” Huffed the chef. Sun Wukong scoffed, he took back his sleeve and stayed put, tail thumping angrily on the floor.

Macaque stared at the biggest wolf for a few minutes, eyes boring in the beast. The wolf whimpered, before finally lowering his eyes and crouching down. Macaque carefully touched his forehead, ever so cautious, before letting his claws slide on the shadowed lock of fur.

“Alright. They're not gonna attack us.” Sighed the warrior as he scratched under the alpha chin, the wolf leaned in his palm, his tail swishing in delight.

“Can they help us?”Asked Red Son, the two kids behind them were staring at the wolves with starry eyes, the sage could almost feel their need to pet them. Macaque whispered in the alpha ears, the words incomprehensible for those that didn't dwell with the shadows, the alpha howled, seemingly joyous.

“Hm, They know where the lantern piece is.” Answered the macaque.

“But would they be able to guide us? I mean the moving walls are gonna be a problem, no?” Questioned the scholar as he warily glared at the beasts.

“No, not for them. It's been a few months since they arrived here, they know how the walls move.” Macaque leaned over the alpha as it softly barked in his ears. “I think one of them got stuck in the lantern piece… They're willing to help us if we help them.”

“Seems like a good deal!” Chimed the dragon girl as she put her sword away.

“Are we gonna ride them, that'll be so cool!!” Squealed the kid.

“Kinda weird that they're so gentle with you… They were very hostile when you were not there.” Scoffed the pig with narrowed eyes.

“I mean, I can't blame them. MK and Wukong got sun related powers, Red Son and Mei are fire users and Tang got light based power. You're all a walking danger hazard for shadow beings.” Snickered Macaque. “And yes, we're gonna ride them.”

“Made sense.” Muttered Red Son, they all cautiously approached one wolf and climbed on their back. “Stop clinging to me, peasants. Get your own wolf!”

“But Red, we're a trio!”Whined MK as he clutched the Bull's son.

“And this cutie doesn't seem to mind!”Chimed the dragon girl as she petted the wolf sides, it sneezed, but didn't seem that bothered by their combined weight. Red Son grumbled, but ultimately let them do as they pleased.

Sun Wukong watched as the scholar scrambled on the same wolf as the pig, too afraid to ride one on his own. Sun Wukong chuckled, amused by this, before walking towards one of the wolves, but it fled the moment he stepped towards it.

“You can ride one with me.” Called Macaque as he waved him over. Sun Wukong walked towards him, cautiously watching wolves scrambling away from his path.

“Why are they so afraid?”Asked the sage, he immediately corrected himself, not wanting to be rude. “N-not that I don't want to ride with you. Like, it's whatever, well, n-not whatever, because it sounds like I don't care, and I care! It's not like I don't wanna be with you, it's quite the contrary, you don't bother me at all. I kinda l-like being with you. I'm really cool with that. With you. Riding with you on the wolf, I mean. Not that I don't like being with you when we're not riding on a wolf. I like being with you whenever, wherever... Okay I'm gonna stop talking now… You were saying?” Macaque leveled him with a confused gaze, the sage chuckled nervously, face reddening.

“You're the strongest light here, they're wary.” Explained Macaque, thankfully ignoring his rambling. The sage shut his traitorous mouth and climbed behind Macaque, on the alpha's back. “Put your hands around me or you're gonna fall.”

“Please, I'm the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, I'm not gonna faAAAAAAA.” Sun Wukong tightly clutched Macaque, surprised by the wolf's speed. He hid in the warrior's back, embarrassed by the kids' snickers echoing behind him.

The wolves were fast, running in the darkness without any ounce of doubt, paws hitting the floor in unison. Sun Wukong didn't let go of the warrior's waist, even with the wolf's speed decreasing, in fact, he pressed closer, nose buried in Macaque's neck.

“Getting comfortable back there?” Chuckled Macaque as he leaned lower on the wolf, the sage followed him, leaning with him.

“Hm, yeah, it's really comfortable.” Happily muttered the sage as he inhaled the other's scent, slightly nuzzling him.

The wolves jumped in one of the suddenly appearing holes, falling in the darkness without fear. The scholar screeched like his life depended on it while the kids hollored in joy, Sun Wukong only pressed himself closer to the warrior, greatly enjoying the ride (and the scent). He almost whined when the wolves stopped running, reluctant to let the warrior go.

They were in a crystal filled cave, bluish light piercing the four corners of the place. A sapphire-blue river was cutting the place in half, waves echoing in the deep silence. The wolves and cubs that didn't know them were quite surprised by their arrival, they stood, hiding the cubs, growing menacingly. They calmed down once they spotted their alpha, and let Macaque approach the river. The black furred monkey crouched down in front of the river and plunged one hand in it, he pulled out a piece of burgundy wood from it.

“Victory!!” Cheered the kids as they petted the wolf that carried them.

Macaque eyed the piece of wood quietly, before using some of his magic on it. The piece glowed eerily, emitting an odd purplish light, Macaque handled it a little, his own eyes glowing. A wolf was pushed out of the piece, it stumbled on the floor, shaking like a newborn, scared to its very soul. The pack immediately ran towards it, lovingly nuzzling the shaking beast.

“It shouldn't have enough power to trap someone, it's broken.” Stated Red Son with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Shadow beings are more sensitive to shadow magic.” Explained Macaque.

“Finally, it's over.” Sighed the pig.

“Awe, they're one big happy family!” Cooed the dragon girl as she tried to take some pictures, she whined when she realized the wolves looked blurry on her phone, shapes not defined.

“So now we can get back!” Celebrated Tang with a relieved sigh.

“They can give us a ride back.” Informed Macaque as he tried to reassure the shaking wolf, scratching under his chin and even giving him a few belly rubs when it rolled on his back. Sun Wukong gasped, glaring at the wolf, tail swishing angrily. How dare this wolf receive belly rubs when he had none for months!? If anyone was worthy of receiving Macaque's belly rubs, it was him, he had been really good these last few months–Sun Wukong groaned, embarrassed by his own trail of thoughts, and stilled his swishing tail. He admitted he missed the warrior's belly scratches, but he shouldn't be upset at a wolf because of it. He was becoming so desperate for attention, he should get a hold of himself.

Sun Wukong jumped behind Macaque on the alpha's back without question, readily nuzzling him. The warrior shuddered, perhaps caught off guard by his cuddling, but let him do as he pleased. The sage closed his eyes, pressing as close as he could, his tail taking the shape of a heart without his knowledge.

They all hissed when they stepped outside of the cave, caught off guard by the sunlight. The kids petted their wolf like tragic main leads on the verge of losing their significant other (the wolf looked quite unbothered by it all) while the two noodle-lovers scrambled away from theirs like it was infected by the plague. Macaque stepped back from the alpha, Sun Wukong following him, and petted it a little before letting it return to the deep dark.

The group dusted themselves off, shivering because of the snow, and began to joyously make their way towards the airship. Macaque toyed with the piece of wood, before giving it to Red Son, who wanted to observe it. Sun Wukong watched the warrior from the corner of his eyes as he played nervously with the tip of his fingers, his gaze helplessly following the other. His mind still fixed on what transpired in the cave, no matter what he tried, he couldn't shake the image out of his head. And now that he wasn't focused on getting the lantern piece, he was even more overwhelmed by it.

They collectively sighed in relief when they spotted the airship in the deep white. The kids, plus Red Son, ran on it, eager to shake off the cold. Pigsy and Tang quickly followed them, both muttering about noodles. The two monkeys were left behind, both slowly climbing on the airship. Macaque reached for him before he could flee in his room to calm his frying nerves.

“Hey, Wukong…See you later?” Nervously asked Macaque as he rubbed both of his arms, his breath still coming in white puff. The sage gulped, heart beating like crazy inside of his chest.

“Yeah, hm I… I'm… I have to check on Sock… let's talk later, okay?” It's not like he didn't want to sort things out between them, but he didn't think he was ready to have this talk, not while his feelings were tangled in an impossible knot.

“Okay…” Muttered the warrior, he waved goodbye and ran inside of the airship, eager to escape the chilling winds roaming around them.

Sun Wukong watched him leave, unable to turn away, before walking towards his room, heart leaping out of his chest, tail wagging widely, hitting the walls.

“Hey Boss, we heard you coming back!” Greeted one of his clones, Sock safely tucked in his arms. Sun Wukong turned towards him, face almost entirely flushed.

“Wow, you're okay ?”Asked another clone as he leaned over the one holding Sock, cooing at the lil lady when she looked up at him.

Sun Wukong blinked, taking them in, before quickly taking two of his clones by the arms (he grabbed the last one with his tail) and dragging them to his room. He pushed them inside and quickly closed his door, sliding on the floor once he turned towards them.

“Okay. That was weird.” Mumbled the clone holding Sock, he carefully put the lil sage on the King's bed, leaving her with a few nuzzles.

“Yeah. We were having a nice talk with Sandy about your awkward teenager ye-” The clone on the far left quickly slammed his paw on his peer mouth.

“We were talking about cat things.” Corrected the clone shutting the other up.

“Anyway, what's this about? Did you get the lantern piece?”Asked the last clone, hands on his hips.

“Y-yeah, we did it.” Muttered the sage.

“That's cool. Why do you look like you're about to explode then?” Asked the clone in the middle, he licked the paw of the clone shutting him up to free himself.

“Eww, you're disgusting.” Groaned the clone on the left, he wiped off his paw on the middle clone’s shirt.

“Don't do that.” Muttered the clone in the middle with a scrunched up face.

“It's yours, my guy.” Snickered the clone on the left.

“I hate you.” Huffed the clone in the middle.

“I'm you, dimwit.”Replied the clone on the left.

“ANYWAY. What happened, Boss?” Questioned the clone on the right.

“I kissed Macaque.” Mumbled Sun Wukong, ears pinned back in embarrassment.

The three clones stopped talking, looking at him with wide eyes. The one in the middle opened his mouth in surprise, the one in the left closed it for him.

“Like… metaphorically?” Questioned the clone on the right.

“I kissed him! Like for real!” Wailed the sage.

“Oh my Gods!!! A miracle!” Cheered the clone in the middle.

“How did this happen-” But the clone on the right was cut by the one on the left.

“Was it good!?”

“It was fucking fantastic!” Replied Sun Wukong, his own tail thumping against the door.

“Oh my Gods!!!!” Squealed the clone in the middle, he took Sock in his arms and twirled her around in joy. She meowed, surprised, and pawed at the clone curiously.

“Why do you look so panicked though? It's good news!” Cheered the clone on the right, he took Sock from the one twirling her around and carefully put her down.

“Is it!?” Cried the sage as he hid in his hands, the clones stopped moving around and turned towards him with raised eyebrows.

“What do you mean? It's a kiss from Macaque, MACAQUE!” Yelled the clone on the left.

“But…he's our friend.” Muttered Sun Wukong. “And what if he doesn't really want anything?? I mean, I liked the kiss, you know but… I don't know… Was it just because of the mood? Do I even want something??”

“Okay, okay, calm down.” Whispered the clone on the right, he crouched down and sat beside the sage, softly bumping him with his shoulder. “We love Macaque, no?” The two other clones also sat down, circling the sage.

“Yeah. We always loved the guy. We loved him when he was Liu'er. We love him now that he's Macaque. Sooo… it’s good, right?” Cheered another clone.

“You kiiiiisssssed him, you charmer.” Snickered the last one, he playfully shaked the sage, making him smile a bit.

“Yeah, yeah. It was good.” Chuckled Sun Wukong, he pushed the teasing clone away, a bit embarrassed. “But… I loved him for so long, I just…never thought I had a chance, especially after everything.”

“Hm, yeah, fair I guess.” Muttered the clone on the right. “What do you want to do?”

“I don't really know… I never even loved anyone else, so it's not like I have experience.” Sighed the great sage, he put his head against the door, eyes lost on the ceiling.

“True… but like, think about it, wouldn't it be nice?” Dreamly whispered another clone.

“Just imagine… you walk with him on the deck at twilight, there is no one else, you both gaze tenderly at each other, you cup his cheeks and he leans on your palm, and then you both kiss. Sounds nice.” Whispered another clone.

“That's so corny.” Snickered the sage, one of the clones gasped in outrage at that. “But, well, I wouldn't mind kissing him again.”

“Well, I think you should talk about it with him.” Advised the clone on the right.

“Yep. You can also ask the others if you wanna know more about love. Sandy always has sound advice.” Added another clone.

“Yeah, you're right. Thanks guys.”

“Anytime, Boss.”

“Good luck!”

“ Go get him, tiger!” Sun Wukong blushed, he made the clones disappear with a flick of wrist and left the floor.

The sage crumbled on his sheet, tired by everything that happened. Sock curiously climbed him, settling on his chest with ease, pawing at his shirt.

“You think he'd agree to kiss me again?”Mumbled the sage as he petted his lil bud, Sock meowed and leaned in his palms. “If I was as adorable as you he would drown me in kisses.” Chuckled the King as he tugged the cat higher and kissed her silly snout.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

#shadowpeach #lmk #lego monkie kid #shadowpeach fanfic #sun wukong #six eared macaque #lmk shadowpeach #lmk macaque #heart behind the lie

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heavenlyakin · 1 year ago

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Part 3: I Took All My Things

Summary: Your life is forever changed when your most trusted advisor arrives home with an engagement treaty. As Queen of your Kingdom, you knew there would be sacrifices but little did you know how much the cost of these sacrifices would be. What do you do when your mind wants one thing but your heart longs for another?

Characters: Reader (some descriptions apply), Ella and Bella ( oc chambermaids), Suguru Geto, Camilla (oc advisor), Sebastian (oc butler), and finally the arrival of Satoru Gojo

Warnings: none

Length: 1.6k

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“Do you think this is a little much?” You ask Bella, one of your chambermaids, as she does your hair. She’s pulling the red strands up into an updo with pearled pins.

“It matches your dress,” she says, not giving an opinion but rather a statement.

Your dress is a cream underskirt with gold lacing on top and pearls adorned all over the skirt and bodice. Your breasts are pushed up so high you’re worried they’ll pop out if you move too suddenly. You giggle at the thought, the scandal that would cause.

“Are you excited to meet King Gojo?” Ella, Bella’s twin, asks you.

“I met him once before,” you say, not really sure yourself. “That was long ago, though.”

“I’ve heard he’s to die for gorgeous.” Ella smiles, bringing Bella more pins for your hair.

“Ella,” you scold, trying to keep from laughing. “Maybe you’ll catch his eye.”

“Since you banned the color red, I doubt that.” Bella teases you and her sister.

You laugh this time, letting the nerves take over. Your fingernails are in disarray from the picking, and your ladies have given up on polishing them for the events. They’ve even called in specialists who claim to make fake nails that look as natural as real ones.

“I do wish the rain would stop,” Ella sighs, sitting on the chaise in front of the window of your dressing room.

“We all do,” you sigh with her. “Perhaps it’ll subdue soon.”

“Your Highness,” Suguru’s voice at the door perks your ears up.

“Is it time?” You ask, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

Suguru is dressed in a navy blue coat, gold trim, and lacing on the cuffs. His pants match, and the white shirt beneath looks good on him. His hair is tied back with it falling in long strands behind his back. ‘

“The scouts spotted his convoy a few miles out. We need to be there to greet him when he arrives.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s best we go now.”

You nod, and Bella and Ella exit through the servant's passages. Suguru takes your arm, walking with you to the hall and down the steps that lead to the front gates of the palace. In the foyer, many members of the court are dressed in their best, eager to see who could be their future King.

The front doors open, revealing the giant tents you had strung up so you and your guests would not be soaked to the bone by the rain. The ground has been covered with long rugs, to keep your shoes and feet dry. It must look ridiculous from afar, but once you’re under the tents it’s not so bad. There are decorations and plants, making it look more lively. The only annoying thing is the sound of the rain pounding down on the tents and the constant stream of water on the sides.

The sound of horns startles a few of your ladies in wait, their gossip stopping abruptly. You fold your hands in front of your gown, staring forward as Suguru and Camilla join you, one on each side. Camilla squeezes your arm once for reassurance then drops her hands to her side. You look over to see that she’s wearing a pink gown with white lace.

The sound of King Gojo’s convoy becomes louder than the rain, and within moments a grand black carriage arrives in front of the tents. A few guards trickle out, and then you see that infamous white hair.

King Satoru Gojo is adorned in a long white cloak, covering most of what he’s wearing underneath. The cloak itself looks warm, something you’re wishing you had in this dress despite its long sleeves. He smiles at you as he steps forward, his advisors and guards slowly making their way behind him.

He extends his hand, “Queen —--,” your last name sounds foreign to your ears.

“It’s a pleasure to officially meet, Kind Gojo.” You take his hand, shaking it and releasing it. He steps closer, and you have to look up to meet his eyes. He’s as tall as Suguru.

“Please, call me Satoru,” his smile is infectious. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Shall we get out of the damp air and into the warm castle?” You suggest and he nods.

You lead him inside, speaking a few orders to the staff waiting at the door. They take his cloak from him, revealing the dark blue attire he wears beneath. The silk fabric looks soft, and comfortable to travel in, but well enough to wear to greet you.

“I can have my butler, Sebastian, show you to your chambers if you’re tired. However, I would suggest some tea to warm up before resting until tonight.” You suggest, folding your hands in front of you and politely smiling at Satoru.

He smirks, stepping closer to you, uncomfortably close for someone you don’t know. “Will you be joining me for tea?”

Your face heats up and you're concerned you’re blushing. “I have a few things to take care of. However, if you would like I can have my schedule rearranged.”

Behind Satoru, you see Suguru sigh and shake his head. The rest of your advisors are smiling beside him, Camilla particularly happily grinning at you. She nods and you look back at the King in front of you.

“I’d be flattered if you joined me.” He holds out his arm and you slip yours in with his.

It feels foreign to hold onto another man as you walk down the hall, followed only by a few guards, a mix of yours and his. As you walk, you tell him about the castle, some facts you’d share with any guest in your home. He comments on the art on the walls and you find it interesting that he’s actually interested in what you’re saying.

“Do you have a preference for tea?” You ask, sitting on one of the blue velvet chairs in the tea room.

“Sugar, and lots of it.” He admits with a grin. “I am fond of sweets.”

“As am I,” you tell him. “I will have some cookies and cakes brought up with the tea,” you tell him and look to Sebastian who nods before leaving the room.

Now it’s just the two of you, alone in the room. There’s a long silence, you looking down at your hands in the lap of your dress and King Gojo looking around the room. After a few more moments, you decide to break the silence.

“Did you-”

“Are you-”

You and him speak simultaneously. Both of you begin to laugh, sighing at the awkwardness.

“I was going to ask if your travels were well, despite the rain in my country.” He looks at you as you speak, his blue eyes something you find hard to look away from.

“It wasn’t terrible, just a bit cold.” He admits. “The rain doesn’t bother me usually, but I will say it must be exhausting having an onslaught of it for weeks.”

“Months,” you tell him. “Nearly three.”

“I see why you’ve been looking for treaties then, given the drought from last year.”

“It has been a tough year,” you admit. “I’m doing what I can to keep the people at ease.”

Sebastian appears with a few others who set the tea and treats down between the both of you. You thank them before dismissing everyone. The hot tea warms your body, allowing you some time to think about what else you can talk about with Satoru without sounding like a weak ruler.

You watch as Satoru pours you both a cup of tea, setting the pot down and dropping six sugar cubes into the cup. You smile, taking three for yourself. Perhaps your sweet tooth is nothing comparable to his.

“Have you considered my offer?” He asks, and you cough.

“I believe that should be handled between our advisors in council.”

He laughs, “You don’t have to say yes to me now or even no. I would just like to know if this trip will be in vain. You’re not the only one with something to lose or gain.”

“What could you have to lose if I rejected the amendment and decided to look elsewhere for help?”

He frowns, turning to look out the window. “This rain isn’t natural,” he suggests. “What is to say it won’t creep up on my borders or that your people decide to leave because of it, seeking refuge in my kingdom, stretching our supplies thin?”

You hadn’t considered that possibility. “I have been considering it. I just can’t say yes without meeting you officially and knowing what I’m getting into.”

“We have met,” he teases. “If I recall, you left crying.”

“I’m sure most girls would cry if a cruel prince pulled her hair.” You shoot back, making him laugh.

“I was an unruly teen,” he admits. “I hope I can show you that I have matured.” He sets his teacup down.

“I hope I will show you I am more than a whiny child.” You smile and stand. “I’ll see you tonight. Please don’t hesitate to ask any of my staff to show you around. Sebastian is at your disposal as well.”

He nods, and you leave the room. You clench and release your fists a few times, trying to ignore the racing of your heart. Nothing you discussed is remotely concerning, but you are curious about his concerns. You need to meet with your advisors about this.

You need Suguru.

#suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #📜. somebody else

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dappledstars · 2 years ago

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✧ — in which the princess sneaks out to see the first snow fall, accompanied by her loyal bodyguard, of course.

✧ — fem!princess!reader x bodyguard!character

✧ — pairings: kabukimono

✧ — warnings: fluff, fluff, just pure wintertime fluff. with a side of hungry wolves. a little bit of angst. slightly ooc, i apologise.

KABUKIMONO was in a dilemma.

The princess was explicitly told not to enter the forest, especially near the time of the first snow fall, which was the hunting season for the wolves. It was his duty to their Royal Highnesses to keep her away from the woods, especially as his charge. But at the same time, how could he ever say no to your pleading face, big eyes and all?

When you clasped your hands around his and implored once more, the young man had to say yes. It was definitely worth the hug you gave him after. It was his duty to protect you, his charge, his princess. Yet it was also his duty to ensure your happiness. It was pretty clear to Kabukimono that your joy was his top priority. Even if it meant putting his job in jeopardy.

After all, as long as the King and Queen never found out, they would be safe.

He never realised how enthusiastic you would be about seeing the first snow fall.

Kabukimono called out your name. “Slow down a bit! You might trip on a root, milady.”

You flashed him a cheerful grin and slowed your pace, now walking alongside him. “Don’t worry, Kabuki. I’m super careful!”

And just at that moment you would’ve faceplanted right on the ground if it weren’t for Kabukimono catching your waist on time. He laughed as he helped you stand back up.

“Super careful, milady?” He grinned, though his cheeks were slightly flushed. You suspected it was due to the cold.

You rolled your eyes and rubbed your gloved hands together. “Shut up.”

You turned from him and continued walking, hugging your arms around your body. It was getting colder by the minute… surely the snow would fall soon? Kabukimono jogged to keep up with your pace.

“If I may ask, where are we heading, milady?” He gave you a curious glance, his violet eyes sparkling.

You grinned at the question. “Just roaming around. Say, aren’t you cold, Kabuki?” You say gently, gesturing to his clothing. While you were coated in layers and layers of fur, the young man was simply wearing his black uniform.

He chuckled. “I’m fine, milady. Ah, what are you doing…?”

You had busied yourself with peeling off one of your fur jackets. You tiptoed, trying to drape the material over his shoulders. “It’s a bit small… but it should keep you warm.” You mused, adjusting the jacket.

Kabukimono flushed at your nearness. “I-I’m fine, really, m-milady.”

You shook your head and took a step back, admiring your handiwork. “See, you’re stuttering and your cheeks are red, meaning you’re cold.”

“I-“ How would he explain that he wasn’t cold, but instead just… He didn’t even know how to explain it in the first place! His cheeks got redder with the embarrassment.

Almost immediately upon seeing this change, you frowned. “You just got redder.” Your face lit up with an idea. “If you’d like, I could give you a hug! That’ll get you warmer, right?”

His face lit up at the suggestion. A hug? Just because you were concerned he was apparently freezing to death? Kabukimono knew it was kind of bad to take advantage of this situation, but he just couldn’t help himself. He nodded, a little too eagerly.

He almost melted at your touch, feeling the warmth of your arms around him as you embraced him tightly. This felt like heaven. He looked down at you with a shy smile.

“Milady?”

“Hm?”

“The snow is falling.”

You looked up at his words, your eyes sparkling with childish delight. The snowflakes fell from the cloudy skies, shining in the sunlight. You smiled.

“Kabuki?”

“Yes, milady?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

He blushed. Then he reached out his hand to gently brush off the snowflakes from your hair. You tensed at his movements. He was… near. You could see every detail of his handsome face. The slight pink on his cheek, the way his eyeliner was put on, the twinkle in his violet eyes, the curve of his lips. The way he smelled slightly of cinnamon. Then his eyes met yours.

“There’s one more right…” His fingers brushed by your lips. “…here.”

Your face flushed crimson. It felt like time had paused, just for the two of you. The snow continued to fall, coating the ground in white. Yet the two of you stayed in each other’s arms… for warmth, of course.

“Milady?” He spoke, his voice soft.

“Hm?”

“We have to head back.”

He was right. You looked at the setting sun, then back at him. You smiled, then pulled away from the embrace. You could’ve sworn there was a glint of disappointment in those eyes. Could it be…? Instead of dwelling on it, you gently caught his wrist.

“Thanks for doing this.”

He smiled and squeezed your hand softly. “Anytime, milady.”

You nudged him. “Just (Name) is fine, Kabuki.”

“(Name).” He repeats with a smile, that familiar blush returning to his cheeks.

You mirrored his expression. The sound of your name coming from his lips… it felt nice. You tugged his hand with a grin. “Let’s head back.”

He nodded. As the two of you walked, Kabukimono took note of many little things you did. The way you swung your arms slightly when you walked, the way your stride was confident and cheerful, the way you hummed Christmas carols — he found them all very cute.

“Hey, (Name)?” Wait, what was he doing…?

“Yes, Kabuki?”

He blushed slightly in spite of himself. He took a deep breath in. “Uh, well, I wanted to say—”

You stopped suddenly. “Kabuki.” You whispered his name frantically. The aforementioned male paused. The woods were quiet. Too quiet. Then a howl pierced through the silent night, followed by the pattering of footsteps.

“Kabuki—”

“Run.”

They took off. They had stayed too late, now the wolves were on the prowl. Kabukimono silently cursed himself. This was a mistake. The King and Queen would have his head on a stake if their princess came back injured. He’d probably kill himself first.

Kabukimono turned at the sound of a growl, too close for comfort. He unsheathed his sword. He turned to you, panic evident on his face. “Run, (Name), and don’t stop until you reach the castle.”

“I won’t leave you!” He expected you to run and leave him to die alone? Never.

He gritted his teeth. “Not the time to be stubborn, milady.”

The words ‘milady’ hit you hard. You shook your head once more. “No.”

A wolf jumped out of the snow-coated bushes, its amber eyes gleaming, its fur as black as night. The two of you backed away slowly. He turned to you once more, silently begging you to flee. You shook your head again, tears beginning to form in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave him.

The wolf pounced. Kabukimono’s sword swung, hitting flesh. The wolf whimpered, falling to the ground with a thud. Kabukimono breathed heavily, before quickly lifting you off the ground and taking off.

NO ONE noticed that the two of you were gone, much to your

relief. You and Kabukimono had successfully escaped the forest, evaded the palace guards, and made it to your room, perfectly unharmed and just a bit shaken. Well, mostly Kabukimono.

He shut the door behind the two of you with a sigh. Then he gently placed you back on your feet. He scanned your figure.

“You’re alright, milady? Nothing hurting, whatsoever?” He asked, his eyes brimming with concern.

You shook your head. A little knot twisted up inside your stomach hearing ‘milady’ once more.

“Why didn’t you run? You could’ve been badly hurt, for Celestia’s sake! If I got hurt, I’d be okay. You’re the princess!”

You flinched at the tone of his voice. He rarely raised it, especially with you.

“I couldn’t leave you there! If I made it back, and you didn’t, it’ll be my fault!” You sighed. “It’s my fault.”

Kabukimono hesitated. “Milady… you’re the princess. It wouldn’t be your fault.”

You shook your head. “I am the princess. My subjects’ wellbeing rests on my responsibility.”

He sighed. “It still wouldn’t be your fault. I was supposed to keep you safe.”

“And you did! I’m perfectly unharmed!”

“You had a run-in with a wolf!”

“I’m fine now, am I not?”

“Don’t be rash, princess.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if you were giving him a bad headache. He didn’t sound angry now. Just frustrated… and tired.

He turned to leave. “We’ll continue this tomorrow. Goodnight, princess.”

“Wait.” You caught his wrist. “Kabuki, I’m sorry.”

He turned and gave you a tired smile. “It still isn’t your fault.”

You chuckled, and met his eyes. A deep violet, beautiful. “Could you… could you stay?”

His eyes widened. “I really shouldn’t…”

“Kabuki, please. I… I want you here. With me.” You implored, your eyes shining slightly. “Please.”

Kabukimono ran a hand through his hair. You could see an internal debate in those eyes. He sighed, and met your own.

“(Name).”

Your face flushed as your breath caught. The way he said it, barely above a whisper. It felt like a winter breeze, gently brushing past you.

“Just this once, I’ll stay.”

✧ — 2023 ; dappledstars

✧ — word count: 2780

#✧ — writing #genshin impact #fantasy au #kabukimono x reader #princess!reader #bodyguard au #genshin impact x reader #oneshot #fluff

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berriesandcherry · 2 months ago

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Hello! I made a draft for my first chapter of a fic about the dance but I won’t continue it for a while and this came out mostly out of boredom so I thought I might as well share it on here! You can take it as a one shot too! For context, it's 101 AC

Daemon I

And when broken bodies are washed ashore

Who am I to ask for more, more, more?

But you're breathing in my open mouth

You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

I wanna make you drive all night just because I said, "Maybe you should come over"

Wanna make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents' teenage daughter

She'll be the best you ever had if you let her

I know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

It was getting dark, his father would be upset he stayed out for so long.

The prince ran to his dragon, patting Caraxes’s red scales as he climbed onto his mount. Caraxes let out a loud noise of joy as Daemon pulled his reins, spreading his large wings to lift into the sky. Leaving behind the lonely mountain they found to rest, the pair flew around the skies of King’s Landing, where they could not smell the rotten smell or dirty waters, only the winds whipping against his face, the sound of the prince’s screams of joy stolen by the skies. Caraxes stopped his wings, surrounding his body and letting them free fall, both feeling as the excitement raced through their blood before Caraxes slowed them down again by flapping his wings. His hands tighten around the reins, his body leaned back. As night fully embraced the sky, Daemon and Caraxes descended towards the Dragonpit, the city lights of King’s Landing flickering below them.

Walking through the Dragonpit, Daemon observed the resting dragons: Little Syrax curled peacefully, Vhagar lounged on the lower floors, and Vermithor was out hunting. Dreamfyre was conspicuously absent—likely away in Dragonstone, avoiding Vhagar. To his surprise, Meleys, the Red Queen, was landing near the entrance. Rhaenys descended gracefully beside her, her expression as stern as ever. The urge to roll his eyes surged, but he maintained his composure. He ignored her as he passed by her, but a hand on his shoulder made him turn. “Cousin” Rhaenys called, strict as ever. It had been since their grandmother’s funeral—the last time they had seen each other, she had merely saluted him like any other lord. Now she called him cousin? She should choose one and stick to it instead of burdening him with her constant changes in attitude.

He pushed her hand off his shoulder with a forceful gesture “You dare show your face here? What do you want, Rhaenys? More sympathy?”

Rhaenys raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “Is that how you see it? Well, there is nothing I can do but I’m as pleased as you are. Your father asked me for dinner, I was told only Aemma would go, but clearly, I was deceived.” she always had an annoyed expression, lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing as she spoke, it irked him. Was she better than them? No. But she acted like it. “As usual”

He groaned, “I despise you,” it was simple nowadays, to claim to hate her, his tone indifferent and his lips in a smirk. Rhaenys shrugged.

“Again, there’s nothing I can do”

The cousins walked toward the towering carriage awaiting them, its dark silhouette looming even against the dark skies. It was built wide enough to seat six on each side and high enough that even the tallest lords would sit comfortably within. The exterior was a deep, polished black, gleaming like obsidian, with rubies set into the wood in the shape of the three-headed Targaryen dragon, each eye and scale catching the light like embers. Golden chains draped subtly across the ceiling, their links fine as spider’s silk but as strong as steel, whispering softly with each motion of the horses. Eight black steeds, their coats like polished night, stood harnessed to the carriage, each draped in cloth marked with the Targaryen sigil. The escort opened the door.

Daemon glanced at Rhaenys, who didn’t spare him a second as they both walked side by side to it. In an act of defiance, Daemon skipped his cousin and entered the carriage, his cousin chuckled “Forgive him, he skips his lesson so he knows nothing about chivalry!” He heard her explain to the escort before she shut the door. ‘Bitch’ he thought.

The exterior was as respectable as the insides, with maroon velvet couches and floors made of oak. The walls were a light brown color, on them, there were decorations that he had never taken notice of, the windows were big but shut as the night did not allow them to open them.

His feet moved to the seat, he laid comfortably and closed his eyes. It would be easier to close his eyes and ignore her. But Rhaenys never made things easier.

“Your father complains that you never see your bride. I told him they shouldn’t have married you to her, I believe it was one of grandmother’s biggest mistakes. Gael—”

He sat up and pointed his finger at her “And I would’ve hated each other. My bride and I are fine, and you should mind your own problems” he wished his father would keep his mouth shut but after aunt Jo’s passing, his father found himself lonnier, craving for a patient ear to understand his worries. He found that in Rhaenys.

Rhaenys pressed her lips in a thin line. “What have I done to upset you?”

“Breathe” he declared, crossing his arms like a spoiled child.

Rhaenys smiled, pained and her fingers curling into fists, he found satisfaction in finally cracking her disgusting act. He hurted her feelings. “I understand you do not like my actions or words, but you more than anyone should understand we should celebrate the lives of those that we love proudly. You never know what might happen.”

She spoke as if she could die any time soon, which was uncalled for, she was not with child nor ill. No enemies in his knowledge and Meleys was merely used to flying around. It annoyed him that she tried to pull his strings by pulling death into the table. Daemon knew she wouldn’t die for something like the throne, she wasn’t that selfish. He wouldn’t either. The thought of having to fight and kill Rhaenys was nothing but a nightmare. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

She moved to grab his hand “I’m serious Daemon! I don’t want us to fight! I love you! You don’t want to end like aunt Saera right? Without being able to say goodbye to any of her siblings for a fight! Or like Vaemond whose pride denies him of his last living brother!”

Daemon frowned at the mention of Saera, he could remember her briefly, father often spoke about how he was always her favorite. Unlike him, his aunt was no coward, after being humiliated she packed her things and ran away. He wished they would stop talking so badly about her, she lives in peace in Volantis with her children, she is rich and powerful, like the Conquerors she created her own kingdom to rule alone and with no dragons. Rhaenys should respect her more, so Daemon laughed, however, his expression was cruel and his laugh held no humor “Good thing we are not siblings then” Rhaenys hand faltered in her strength, allowing him to pull away. He avoided her eyes after that. It was a low blow after all they were raised like it, in the same nest. She sniffed one time before clearing her throat, ah he brought her to tears? “I understand.” She acted as if she wasn’t the one paining him. She should just give up the throne, father was the heir and Viserys would follow, her claim died with her father, grandfather said so himself.

Shyly, his eyes went up, Rhaenys kept her eyes in her embroidery. It was a blue fabric so something that was likely for either of her children. Laena and Laenor. He liked Laena, she was smart and quick, she would’ve made a good queen, with her courage and bravery she wouldn’t struggle to keep up with her mother. He didn’t know them a lot, Corlys Velaryon, Rhaenys’ husband, does not like to let them see them until they pass the crown to them. He always scoffed when Corlys spoke. He acted as if he did things in order to protect them instead it was an act to hide his darker intentions.

He wanted the crown, he yearned to be the most powerful man, a great lord, not just a vassal of House Targaryen. His greed was almost obscene. Daemon hated him. As he sat in the carriage, feigning indifference, a part of him wondered if this bitterness was what his grandfather wanted for his family. Rhaenys could be insufferable, but she was still family. What did that mean to him, really? Perhaps nothing... or perhaps, in moments of silence, too much.

Soon after, the usual bump that signaled their entry to the Red Keep. Daemon usually preferred Dragonstone, but after his grandmother’s death the castle felt empty. The Keep was tall and imposing, the color represented the blood of their enemies and its walls built by the Conqueror himself. The nest of the dragons and the most important city in Westeros.

As they made their way out of the carriage, the pair of cousins walked across the yard as people ran out of their way, as they should.

“For the gods, this stinks” His thoughts of pride crumbled by his cousin’s mutters. “Is that a dog or a rat? I must speak with grandfather after this.”

Daemon pursed his lips and glared, unable to pick another fight with her as Aemma, his cousin and sister by law, was the one standing at the top of the stairs. Daemon skipped a few steps to meet her sooner “Daemon!” She called in distress, tears running down her doll-like face. She threw herself into his arms, crying. He rubbed her back, looking for the right words. Has something happened to Rhaenyra? Or grandfather?

Rhaenys stood behind him with a shocked expression but as quick as her dragon, she separated the cousins and grabbed the girl by the shoulders. “What’s the meaning of this? What happened?”

Aemma’s eyes widened but she took a few breaths to answer properly. “Uncle Baelon— he had a stitch and I don’t know but after he came from his hunt he had a fever and twisting in pain, now no one can calm him, he was just screaming and Viserys—” Daemon’s heart pounded wildly as Aemma’s words sank in, each beat rattling through his chest like a war drum. His vision blurred, and he felt his legs weaken, his body refusing to believe what his mind was piecing together. The sounds of the Red Keep—footsteps echoing on stone, murmurs from nearby courtiers, and a guard’s cough—felt distorted, as if coming through water.

He barely registered Rhaenys’s sharp commands to nearby attendants, her voice rising and cutting through the haze. All he could think of was his father’s last smile, his laugh over breakfast that morning. The thought seared his mind, almost mocking him now. No, this couldn’t be true. Daemon clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking up to Aemma’s tear-streaked face. “Where is he?” he demanded, his voice low but steely. He wouldn’t believe this until he saw it with his own eyes.

“The Hand’s Tower,” she answered with a trembling voice. Daemon didn’t need to hear more, as he recovered from Aemma’s words, he began to run to the Hand’s Tower, pushing away anyone that got in his way. Behind him, both women ran calling for him but he could not stop. At some point he stopped listening to them, a buzzing sound taking over his head.

Why would this happen now? His father was just fine this morning, he had done the usual, wake him up, break his fast with him, kiss him goodbye, promised a dinner together… he was fine, he was smiling. As he arrived at the Tower before he could run into his father’s bedchamber, someone grabbed him tightly. It was Viserys.

They didn’t need words, or anything to know it was bad, the heartbreak in his eyes made Daemon sunk to his knees in disbelief. The other two final cousins finally caught up as Viserys joined him in the ground, holding him close. Rhaenys began to yell for information on the prince’s condition, demanding the maester from Dragonstone to come, the grand maester, septons, anything, at some point she began to call for their uncle Vaemond. Aemma hid behind her, sobbing quietly in fear.

He did not remember his mother’s passing, he was just three when it happened. He didn’t want to go through this now, he wished his father would stop screaming in agony, he wished he could help. As his father’s cries echoed through the tower walls, Daemon felt a chill seep into his bones—a hollow coldness that even dragonfire couldn’t warm.

I hope you liked it!

#a song of ice and fire #fire and blood #my fic #house targaryen #rhaenys the queen who never was #rhaenys targaryen #daemon targaryen #aemma arryn #aemma targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #baelor targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #ik it's not amazing but i like rhaenys and daemon relationship #baelon targaryen

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lives-of-saints · 3 months ago

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Episode Two: The Lives of Saints

Opening:

[Young ALINA and MAL run through a green meadow outside the Keramzin orphanage, an older woman’s voice yells their names. Lying in the sea of long grass with the afternoon sun shining down on them, young MAL asks:]

MAL: Don’t you want to know if you’re Grisha? [Their hands clasp in the grass and the camera focuses on a serious young ALINA’s face]

ALINA: Not if we can’t go together.

[Young ALINA turns to stare into the sun. Sun fades into a quick flash of a giant majestic Stag before the scene changes to modern day.]

ALINA

KRIBIRSK, EAST RAVKA

[ALINA’s eyes snap open to reveal a bedraggled ZOYA peering at her, the LATE AFTERNOON sun shines behind ZOYA. ALINA groans in pain.]

ZOYA: (orders) Don’t move. (shouts) Healer! [ALINA sees an empty spot where MAL used to lay and has a quick flashback of his pained, dying face.]

ALINA: Where’s MAL? The tracker? (she breathes panicaly) He can’t...

ZOYA: First Army was sent to medical.

[The HEALER arrives wearing a red coat with white and gray embroidery. The HEALER puts her hands together, then over ALINA, we hear a bone snap into place and ALINA gasps.]

ZOYA: Now, move. We have a debriefing with the General.

ALINA: Who? (the healer moves her hands toward her abdomen, ALINA grits her teeth and stands)

[(Scene change) ZOYA walks in front of ALINA, who is followed by two guards in black and red uniforms OUTSIDE. ALINA is silently panicking:]

ALINA: It’s all my fault, isn’t it? They’re all gone. I’ll be tried for murder...

ZOYA: Quiet.

[They enter a large black tent. From over ZOYA’s shoulder, we see the GENERAL wearing a black kefta, who turns to stare into ALINA’s openly scared face. He holds a few papers in his hands. ALINA scans the tent where Grisha soldiers in blue, red, and purple keftas line the edges. As she scans her surroundings, we hear MAL’s voiceover say “I’ll meet in the meadow” and the same, hoarse old woman from the opening screech voiceover shouts, “It’s all your fault!”]

GENERAL: ZOYA, your report.

ZOYA: Fourteen total casualties, sir. Five injured, seven confirmed dead, with two First Army unaccounted for. A First Army soldier gave away our position barely three markers in, (grumbles from the Second Army soldiers). The volcra went after our Inferni and riflemen first. It would have been a total loss, had it not been for a searing burst of light. (At this last phrase she steps aside for ALINA to be fully revealed).

GENERAL: (smirks and reads off some documents in his hand) ALINA STARKOV, Assistant Cartographer of the King’s Army. (to ALINA) Your file is just like every other First Army recruit. No family—raised in the Keramzin orphanage. A minor infraction reported while in Poliznaya for basic training...

(ALINA shifts in place, confused and nervous from all the attention)

GENERAL: Yet there is one oversight in your ordinary file. It is customary for every First Army recruit to be tested upon entry, even if completed in childhood. Your form is blank, Miss Starkov. Tell us, were you tested?

ALINA: (expression nervous, flashback to her as a child in the orphanage being tested and again in a new army uniform, extending a hand to a Grisha soldier in a blue kefta, scene back to present) Yes, and when I was ten, sir. (we see the GENERAL’s annoyance)

GENERAL: Well then, (he strides forward, putting a pointy ring on his finger) let us just be certain.

[The little light within the tent is fully blocked out, leaving only ALINA and the GENERAL in view. GENERAL pushes up her sleeve.]

ALINA: What’s happening?

[Her sliver of a scared face is shown before it transitions to OUTSIDE where MAL opens his eyes and sits up.]

MAL: Where’s ALINA?

MEDIC: Apparently with the GENERAL, fulfilling prophecies.

[MAL darts off the bench, hobbling toward the direction of the GENERAL’S TENT.]

MEDIC: Corporal! You’re wounded!

MAL: We need to stop this.

MEDIC: What’s the big d—

MAL: What do you think they’re gonna do when they find out she’s not Grisha?

[From the outside of the GENERAL’S TENT, a giant beam of light shoots into the sky, every soldier in camp stops in shock, there are a few muttered “Sun Summoner” or soldiers who perform their religious signs.]

MEDIC: (awe) I don’t think you’ll have to worry ‘bout that.

[INSIDE the tent, ALINA stares at the beam of light then at the GENERAL in shock and fear. The GENERAL stares with a wisp of a smile on his face. The beam descends and ALINA jerks back from his touch, grasping the wrist that light just shot out of.]

GENERAL: Alina Starkov, our mapmaker—our Sun Summoner. (some Grisha kneel or do the religious sign, while others stare at her with confusion or jealousy.)

GENERAL: (to ZOYA) Take Ivan’s squad and escort the Sun Summoner to Os Alta. I will follow after speaking with the First Army regiments. (ZOYA nods) Dismissed.

[ZOYA pushes ALINA toward the tent’s exit. The tent flaps open to bright white light]

ALINA: What—

ZOYA: Move. You have a meeting with the King.

[SCENE CHANGE: The camera shows ALINA looking at a fancy black carriage. She stands beside an annoyed ZOYA, and IVAN. He is a Corporalki holding a healer kefta in his hands, and he opens the door of the coach for ALINA.]

IVAN: Get in.

ALINA: No, I’m a mapmaker. I’m not...There’s been a mistake. A trick!

ZOYA: We wouldn’t be here if so. Think of it as your reassignment. Now, do your duty. Get in the coach.

ALINA: But my friends—Mal...

ZOYA: If you really care about them, you’ll come with us. You’re useless to Ravka if you can’t summon properly.

IVAN: And if you don’t think every foreign scout in the area didn’t just see your little light show—

ALINA: That’s not my fault!

IVAN: (stone-faced) The sooner you train and take down the Fold, the better chance every soldier here doesn’t end up food for a Volcra.

[ALINA, with clenched fists at her sides and an angry expression, looks to the side to see dozens of soldiers (including MAL) staring at her. An uncomfortable look passes across her face as she steps forward into the carriage.]

[The carriage is shown leaving and the camera gradually moves up to show the high sun. Time passes where day becomes night. The almost full moon transitions into The CROW CLUB sign. It is MORNING.]

INEJ

KETTERDAM

[The club is vacant as the camera shows the booth where ARKEN VISSER, INEJ, KAZ, and JESPER sit. The table is full of maps, a few cups of coffee, and INEJ sharpens her knives]

ARKEN: I’ve sent word by steamboat. She’ll know to escort you across the Fold.

KAZ: How do we know we can trust her?

INEJ: A Grisha turning against the Black General?

JESPER: Unheard of.

[Camera focuses on ARKEN then transitions to NINA in NOVOKRIBIRK, WEST RAVKA as he speaks.]

ARKEN: Nina’s a radical. Thinks Grisha should get to choose whether they serve the Crown. She has her hand in almost every West Ravkan underground network there is.

NINA

NOVOKRIBIRSK, WEST RAVKA

[She wears her red kefta and reads a letter in RAVKAN with the letterhead of an eclipse. SCENE change to NINA in a meeting with ZLATAN and a few WEST RAVKAN military personnel.]

ZLATAN: Still no response from the East?

SOLDIER 1: None from this morning’s river barge, sir.

ZLATAN: (staring intently) They’re up to something. ZENIK, what of the cartographer’s progress?

NINA: She still won’t talk, sir. She needs more time.

ZLATAN: I gave you one task.

NINA: The brain is a complex system, especially given stress. Would you rather have her experience a stroke instead?

ZLATAN: (rolls his eyes) I want her information by eighteen bells.

NINA: (frowns) Yes, sir.

[Scene changes to NINA walking OUTSIDE past large tents and wooden structures for housing. A long shot shows an Inferni with wild red hair and blue kefta standing guard outside a small tent.]

NINA: Harshaw. (NINA smiles and nods at him) Any stirrings from her?

HARSHAW: Not a peep.

[HARSHAW winks and walks off as NINA enters the tent. INSIDE, FEMALE CARTOGRAPHER lays on a solitary cot, motionless. NINA softly smiles and she sits down on the edge of the cot.]

FC: Is he gone?

NINA: It’s just us, love.

[FC jolts up and hugs and kisses NINA. Her name is MORANA, who is disguised as FC. They break apart.]

NINA: I missed you too. (another kiss)

MORANA: How am I doing?

NINA: ZLATAN doesn’t suspect a thing. What did you find out?

[The camera focuses on who we thought was FC but we see that her once brown eyes are morphed with some blue spots, and strands of her hair and eyebrows have darkened in odd places.]

MORANA: (counting off on her fingers) Her name is Ruby. VERY pious, has all twenty-three Saints’ prayers memorized—

NINA: MORANA, the important bits dearest I don’t need her life story.

MORANA: (cheeks redden) Right. The delay with the skiff. She said...(pause) the Sun Summoner saved her.

NINA: You’re sure? But those are just stories!

MORANA: (nods) Some other cartographer...a part-Shu girl named Alina Starkov.

NINA: (serious expression) Alina Starkov...A Sun Saint in the hands of the Crown is dangerous.

MORANA: It would sway the people to them instead of accepting the secession. Does the Black General know about Ruby?

NINA: (shakes her head and hands her the letter with the eclipse symbol) The GENERAL wanted me to kill her...I’m not doing that to a girl just trying to survive.

MORANA: She’ll be on the ship to Ketterdam by tonight.

NINA: Good. I’ll inform ZLATAN of the Sun Summoner.

[They hold each other’s hands as the SCENE transitions to a map of EAST RAVKA. A sketch of a carriage follows a path outlined in bones, halfway between the FOLD and OS ALTA (which has a picture of a palace)]

ALINA

THE BONE ROAD, EAST RAVKA

[The carriage is then shown going through a wooded area versus the flat grasslands of KRIBIRSK. INSIDE the carriage, ALINA now wears the Healer kefta and fiddles with the fur lining. A FLASHBACK appears of young ALINA, wearing a red dress of the orphanage, falling asleep in a pew as a sermoner speaks.]

(In the background) Sermoner: The wrath of the Black Heretic is not only seen in the Unsea! But the evil acts man commits upon one another...”

[The old woman from the opening is shown wearing a gray dress, and sits right next to an asleep ALINA. The matron notices ALINA sleeping and drags her from the pew to the back of the chapel.]

YOUNG ALINA: Miss KRISTINA! I’m sorry!

KRISTINA: (whispers angrily) All you have to do is sit up and pay attention! (she grabs the young girl’s arm very roughly)

YOUNG ALINA: I can’t! I’m trying!

[Scene is snapped back to ALINA’s tense expression. She looks up at IVAN and ZOYA.]

ALINA: What will happen to me if I can’t do it? Can’t you transfer this power to someone else? Someone—

(ZOYA snorts while IVAN looks out the window and rolls his eyes.)

ZOYA: That’s not how Grisha power works. It is a gift from the Saints you’ll have for the rest of your life. I’d have figured a First Army grunt like you dreamed of being Grisha, the way you were drooling over our training practice.

ALINA: I was not—! It doesn’t matter. (She looks down at her hands)

IVAN: Train. Do your job. And you won’t have to worry about a noose. Even when you keep whining (to ALINA in a very rude, pointed voice) we look after our own.

ZOYA: We won’t let you fail. Like it or not you’re one of us. How it took this long to find you is beyond me.

[Camera shows ALINA’s uncertain smile and pensive face. She sways as the carriage jolts to a stop. ZOYA, IVAN and ALINA look around confused. OUTSIDE two soldiers in black uniforms walk ahead with guns as a few soldiers in blue keftas walk behind them.]

YouTube scene:

youtube

{A shot hits GUARD 1]

GUARD 2: Druskel—! (shot through the head)

[Two inferni and a squallor attack, a knife flies through the neck of the squallor as Inferni send fireballs forward. The Druskelle throw smoke bombs to cover their movements. We see ZOYA and IVAN leave the carriage. IVAN runs ahead, taking out a Druskelle by crush their heart from afar as they near the carriage. ZOYA stays back to guard ALINA. Then, ZOYA runs forward to clear the smoke and throw the Druskelle back. We see ZOYA lift soldiers in the air and spike them into trees. IVAN and another corporalki put their hands together then rip a fist back to crush the hearts of soldiers popping out from behind trees. But, the Druskelle sharpshooter pushes ZOYA, IVAN, and the other Grisha to cover making it impossible to move forward or take him out. ALINA hides in the carriage, covering herself with the kefta IVAN gave her. From behind the carriage, we see two FJERDAN soldiers drop from the trees, boxing in the group. One soldier enters the carriage and drags ALINA out. We see the other soldier fire toward ZOYA, whose attention is now split between the larger group and ALINA.]

ALINA: (Dragged across the ground, she kicks the Druskelle—who in turn hits her and her gaze shifts. She yells.) I’m not Grisha!

DRUSKELLE: (raising an axe) Drusje!

[We then see the GENERAL appear on horseback to the fight, he performs the cut, immediately slicing the DRUSKELLE into pieces. In this version of the fight, the GENERAL clears the battlefield with his shadows, killing the enemy soldiers with his shadows.]

[The camera then shows a bloody ALINA sprawled on the ground, terrified. The calm GENERAL offers his hand to her.]

GENERAL: You ride with me.

[They ride off into the distance as the scene transitions to the NIGHT of KETTERDAM.]

INEJ

KETTERDAM

[INSIDE, KAZ’s office, INEJ stands peering down at maps and lists spread out across KAZ’s desk. KAZ sits behind the desk, peering at the papers and slowly spinning his cane. JESPER paces and spins a gun as they talk.]

KAZ: We have our way across the Fold, way in the palace, and way out.

INEJ: And ARKEN?

JESPER: Already on a ship to NOVYI ZEM.

KAZ: All we need is a round trip to RAVKA.

JESPER: Get SPECHT to whip up our passports, easy. Tickets for the Os Kervo passage went down half a kruge!

KAZ: Steam ships check all the luggage.

INEJ: We can’t risk being documented in any way.

JESPER: (tapping the revolvers at his hips): I’ve got it! (he reaches in his shirt jacket for a crumpled list)

JESPER: I’ve been scoping out Fifth Harbor like you said (JESPER nods at KAZ, camera shows KAZ and INEJ look at him) Sturmhond will help us.

INEJ: Who?

JESPER: He’s a very rich pirate—works independently—but the RAVKANS love him.

KAZ: What’s the cost?

KAZ: Someone like him won’t come cheap.

[We see JESPER’s joyful face, he clasps his hands together and starts to walk out the door.]

JESPER: Well, lucky you have me then.

[Scene changes to the trio entering JESPER’s room. It is a bit cluttered with different clothes strewn around, gun parts, Ketterdam tourist knick knacks, top hats, and specific emphasis is given to what look like brand new textbooks.]

JESPER: They’re around here somewhere...(he goes under his bed to search for a mysterious object)

[INEJ picks up a wonky green plaid hat and looks at herself in the mirror while KAZ picks up a textbook. JESPER’s legs stick out from beneath the bed. JESPER pulls a large case from beneath the bed.]

JESPER: Please put everything back, there is a method to the chaos. (looks over at INEJ in the hat) Oh, except you INEJ. That looks so much better on you.

INEJ: (smiles and puts the hat back) Thanks, Jes.

KAZ: (serious) Are those the ZEMENI rifles I told you to take to the safe house?

JESPER: I’ve got a good reason! (KAZ stares at him and JESPER opens the case) What are you always telling me? Make the pigeons come back for more? I had to ensure the smuggler didn’t short us, didn’t I?

KAZ: (gruffly) Did they?

JESPER: (grabs one of the guns) Perfect condition except for one piece, which I have...(he searches around as if he just set the part down)

INEJ: This one? (she holds a circular piece of metal and throws it to JESPER) You left it on KAZ’s desk a few days ago.

(JESPER smiles at her)

KAZ: (staring off into space) Good. JES, you

deal with the guns. INEJ—get us a meeting and scope out the ship (she nods). I’ll arrange the club for our absence.

[INEJ pulls up her hood and leaves the room, hat in hand.]

ALINA

EAST RAVKA

[INEJ’s retreating form morphs into ALINA riding on horseback behind the GENERAL. ZOYA, IVAN, and three other Grisha follow on horseback. They ride along some green hills. They stop. ALINA bends down to stretch.]

GENERAL: ZOYA, ride ahead to inform the Palace of our arrival.

(ZOYA leaves)

GENERAL: (hands ALINA a handkerchief) For your face.

ALINA: (hesitates, takes it, and wipes her face) Thank you.

[The GENERAL hands some canteens to his Grisha. They all look tired.]

ALINA: Who were those men back there?

IVAN: Druskelle. Fjerdan Grisha hunters.

ALINA: But how were they this deep in RAVKA? Why—

GENERAL: They’ve been breaching borders far more the past few years. The Fold is making it difficult to properly move the military to support the rest of the country. As for today...you were probably just a happy accident for the Druskelle.

ALINA: (shocked) You deal with them often?

IVAN: You are lucky to live in RAVKA, girl. Most people that find out they are Grisha are killed on sight.

ALINA: (exasperated) Fantastic.

GENERAL: You get used to it. Now, rest up then let’s move. We’re too exposed.

INEJ

KETTERDAM

[The trio with JESPER in front, KAZ on JESPER’s right, INEJ on his left, walk into a large Captain’s office, TOLYA leads and holds the rifle case, while TAMAR follows the group and blocks the door. Behind a desk, STURMHOND stands in a teal coat.]

STURMHOND: Well, who do we have here? I must say, I had no meetings scheduled for tonight...my crew and I should be out getting drunk right now.

JESPER: (takes the seat in front of the desk as KAZ and INEJ stand and he reaches in his shirt pocket) JESPER FAHEY, gunsmith apprentice to ol’ Ren Botha. (he hands STURMHOND a business card)

STURMHOND: (raised eyebrows) Ha! He taught me everything I know!

JESPER: (nods) Look under the barrels on the port side gunners, that’s all my work.

STURMHOND: (whistles) We made it past Fjerda’s blockade with those cannons, didn’t we Tolya?

TOLYA: Work of beauty. A pleasure to meet you. (JESPER and TOLYA shake hands)

[INEJ and KAZ look at each other]

STURMHOND: So, JESPER FAHEY, what do you need? If you’re looking for work, I hate to disappoint you but our crew is full. No matter how skilled your partners are. (KAZ scowls while INEJ tries to hide a grin)

JESPER: All we seek is passage to and from RAVKA. We’ve already got a job lined up.

STURMHOND: Nothing untoward I hope?

JESPER: No, no. We’ve just had some trouble with customs in the past...what with WEST RAVKA’s tensions right now. (he pushes the case toward STURMHOND) Our payment, more than enough for passage and a bit of silence on our whereabouts.

STURMHOND: (opens the case and smirks) Looks like we’re off to RAVKA. (STURMHOND glances at TOLYA and TAMAR)

ALINA

OS ALTA, EAST RAVKA

[STURMHOND downing a glass of whiskey transitions into the image of the outer ROYAL PALACE. Servants in white and stable boys are waiting for their arrival. We see ZOYA standing with the APPARAT. Though she is an awkward distance away. The group descends from their horses, the GENERAL helps ALINA down from theirs. As the horses are walking away, ZOYA appears in front of ALINA and the GENERAL holding a green bundle in her arms.]

ZOYA: They’re ready for us, GENERAL.

GENERAL: Good, Miss STARKOV. Please put on the First Army uniform.

ALINA: I’m going to meet the KING like this?!

ZOYA: A loyal soldier turned Sun Saint plucked from his ranks to end all of RAVKA’s problems? You look perfect.

APPARAT: (appears beside her and touches her face and ALINA flinches back) A great story, but surely there is something more that can be done—

GENERAL: (places a hand on the APPARAT’s shoulder and graciously shoves him aside) Lead our procession in. We’ll have Miss STARKOV presentable.

(APPARAT exits)

ALINA: Is he always like that?

GENERAL: The KING’s Spiritual Advisor. Unfortunately, yes.

ALINA: Will I just get used to it? (she takes off the kefta and puts on the green uniform, it looks brand new and stiff)

ZOYA: Never.

[They walk into the castle, they are in large hallways just outside the KING’s meeting room]

ALINA: (nervous) But what do I do?

GENERAL: Just focus on me, and be respectful. It will be fine. (ZOYA leaves)

[They enter the courtroom where the KING and QUEEN sit on thrones, noblemen and servants line the walls. As the GENERAL and ALINA near the dais, they stop and bow.]

GENERAL: Moi Tsar, may I introduce ALINA STARKOV. Our Sun Summoner.

ALINA: (looks to the GENERAL then curtsies)

GENERAL: Miss STARKOV is our mapmaker who saved over a dozen of her fellow soldiers in a volcra attack.

KING: Well, get on with it. I do not need to hear how powerful the girl is.

GENERAL: (ALINA looks at him and he bows to the king) Of course, sir.

[The room darkens as the GENERAL faces ALINA. We see her unmasked nervous and annoyed face, from her view we see blobs of the KING and QUEEN.]

ALINA: How—

GENERAL: (lightly touching her hand leans forward to whisper in her ear) Now, call the sun.

[ALINA’s body lights up in white light, at first she is shocked, but the rays let her see the faces around her, emblazoned in awe and heads turned away from the brightness of her power. As her gaze catches the pair of shocked royals, ALINA smiles in enjoyment. The light gradually fades, but her visible joy does not. The GENERAL faces the KING again.]

GENERAL: ALINA STARKOV shall train at the Little Palace. She will take down the Fold. She will be East Ravka’s light!

[The KING nods, while the QUEEN claps and the nobles follow suit. They shout, “For RAVKA!’] [Outside in the hall, ALINA asks the GENERAL]

ALINA: But where did my power come from? (she smiles down at her hands) It felt...

GENERAL: (lightly smiles) It came from everywhere. It was all consuming, Miss STARKOV. Now, get some rest. Your training starts tomorrow. (addressing two guards) Escort the Sun Summoner to her quarters.

[ALINA is then seen following two palace guards down a hallway. They open a door for her, revealing a large suite. ALINA enters and as the door closes she leans against it and sinks to the ground. She finally lets out all her emo ions from the past few days. She cries and grimaces from all the stress. After wiping her face, she quickly searches the room, finding a small letter opener. She tucks it beneath her pillow. She then lays awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.]

END OF EPISODE

#Youtube #grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #shadow and bone #six of crows #the lives of saints #alina starkov #inej ghafa #nina zenik

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steele-soulmate · 4 months ago

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Princess of Candy Coated Lies, Modern Royalty AU- King Peter Steele & Single Mother OFC, Soulmate AU

Chapter 23

SUMMARY: Single mother Molly Anne Harper does the best she can do, given her circumstances- since she broke up with her ex-boyfriend by sending him to jail, she’s been struggling to be the best mother to twin daughters while working barely minimum waged jobs. But when she meets her soulmate- King Peter Thomas Ratajczyk of Brooklyn- she quickly finds herself falling heads over heels in love with the guarded, battle damaged ruler. Likewise, Peter finds himself with a family of a women and two little girls who call him daddy. But what happens when their father gets out from behind bars and starts to cause mayhem?

A Soulmate AU where you never know what the first words your soulmate says to you until they say it

STORY WARNINGS: mentions of spousal abuse (nothing graphic)

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS: This fic is dedicated to SkullWoggle on AO3 and @rock-a-noodle on Tumblr.

WORD COUNT: 1169

I glanced up at Peter as we both neared an all too familiar front door- painted a cheery cherry red color with an ugly black gargoyle doorknocker.

“Some things never change,” I muttered, craning my neck upwards to smile shakily at King Peter. “Daddy and I had always hated this gargoyle- I think mom got it just to spite the both of us.”

“Ah,” he smiled, reaching up to knock at the door a few times.

Panic, fear, worry and anxiety were dancing unwanted waltzes all across my body, my heart was racing like I was running a marathon and my skin was slicked with nervous sweat as the front door swung open to reveal my mother, a short, round little dumpling of a woman with short grey curls and dark blue eyes. She squinted up at the king before her eyes turned to me and she let out a delightful gasp of joy.

“Well, as I live and die!” gasped Sophie Harper as she tugged me to her and gave me a shattering embrace. “Welcome home, poppet.”

“Mom.” I pulled back to smile at her. “Where’s daddy?”

“In the garage, doing heavens knows what in there,” she chuckled. “But look at you- what on earth have you been up to?”

“Um…” I took a step backwards, sinking into my soulmate’s side. “I left Henry eight years ago. I gave birth to two amazing twin daughters. And I met my soulmate.”

“Oh?” Now, it was her turn to crane her neck up to meet Peter’s smiling eyes. “Oh, do forgive me, your majesty, but I cannot bend my neck to look up at you fully. Please do come in, the both of you now.”

“What happened to your neck, mom?” I asked her as I watched the king rather comically nearly folding himself in half in order to fit inside the house.

“Oh, I’m fine, it’s just rheumatoid arthritis,” she dismissed my worry with a wave of her hand. “So, the king is your soulmate?”

“Yes ma’am, I am her soulmate,” Peter told her as he walked practically crooked deeper into the house. “We will be getting married in two weeks, and my sweetheart wanted to personally extend an invitation for the both of you to attend.”

“Sophie? Who on earth are you chattering away to this time?” yelled someone right after a slamming door resonated throughout the house.

“I think you will like our visitor, Isaac dear,” mom called out as a grumpy man appeared in the doorway that connected the front room to the laundry room and the garage. His shirt was dirty and his jeans were ripped as he rubbed the oil off from his hands with a red rag.

“Hihi daddy,” I meeped timidly, rushing to meet him halfway and just folding myself into his arms.

“Molly Moo!” he chuckled. “Please tell me that you left that punk.”

“Eight years ago,” I confirmed before stepping backwards into the king’s, relaxing some when he clamped his hand onto my shoulder. “I got him out of my life when I found out that I was pregnant with twins daughters.”

“Do tell us more about our grandbabies!” mom demanded as she herded up into the front room. The king and I both sat on the couch in front of the window and my parents took to their respective seatings. “What are their names? Do you have pictures? What are they like?”

“Their names are Aria and Evie, they are tight as thieves, Evie is deaf and so the four of us know BSL,” I started, pausing as the king pulled his cell phone out from his back pocket, scrolling through the photographs that he’d taken before handing the phone over to my mom.

“They both look so much like you,” she hummed, giving dad the phone so that he could view his granddaughters.

“Yeah, they’re my everything,” I confessed as I leaned into Peter’s side, all but purring when he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and then snugged me in tightly to his side. “Honestly though, I wouldn’t trade them for anything out there in the whole wide world.”

“I’m going to adopt them right after our wedding and get everyone squared away on my health insurance,” Peter chimed in as he accepted his cell phone back from daddy. “They’re already calling me daddy.”

“Because you are their daddy,” I hummed happily. “They love you.”

“And I love you too, sweetheart of my heart,” chuckled the king before remembering that we had an audience. He coughed, a bit embarrassed at his sappy words as he regained his kingly persona once more.

“So, tell us about your wedding!” Daddy looked happy and relaxed for once in over a decade and a half, if I had to say.

“Well, we will be saying our nuptials at a small cathedral just off of the downtown area,” the king began, his voice low and rumbling as he began to list off the itinerary list. “I will walk my sweetheart up to the alter. The girls will be our flowers girls, and we will be wedded in the garden.”

“Do you have a color scheme?” mom asked.

“Green for Peter’s favorite color and blue for my favorite color,” I shrugged. “Just don’t wear white or black and you’re good to go.”

“I think I’ll wear a bright yellow suit,” daddy deadpanned, mom smacking the back of his head. “Ow!”

“Behave yourself,” mom snarled at him from under her breath before returning back to me. “Now, tell us about…”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

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PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

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#Type O Negative AU #Modern royalty AU #Royal AU #King Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #FanFiction #Soulmate AU #AU #Molly Anne Harper (OFC)#Chapter 23 #Aria Harper (OFC)#Evie Harper (OFC)#Chapter Twenty Three

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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years ago

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.・✫・゜・。. ｡⋆ʚ[ 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐏! ]♡⃛ɞ

──── 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: apr. 2023: top supporter @vampire2468 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Diluc Ragnvindr x chubby! poc! Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none

You watch as Diluc returns to the manor and allows Adelinde to take his coat as he huffs about all the work he still has left to do and retreats to his office without saying thank you. It always makes you clench your jaw to see him behave like that. What gave him the right to be so rude to those of you that worked beneath him? What made him deem you to be unworthy of something so simple as manners? You listen as the office door closes heavily, as though he had kicked it shut behind him (which he had).

You continue with your duties bitterly as you reflect on Diluc’s recent behaviour. You are newer than the other maids at the manor but you’re not exactly a rookie either, you believe that you’ve been here for long enough to have a fair understanding of he who is dubbed the uncrowned King of Mondstadt. You’re glad that he doesn’t have a crown, it would likely only make him more dismissive of those beneath his station than he already is.

But you can see why people still like him: Diluc Ragnvindr is a brilliant businessman and devilishly handsome and so it’s only natural that he’s the most sought-after bachelor in the nation of winds and freedom. But it’s his personality that puts you off, you much prefer a heart full of gold than a bank vault full of it and Diluc just doesn’t check that box. Diluc had never even welcomed you to your new job, that had been Adelinde’s task. As far as you’re aware, Diluc Ragnvindr does not even know that you exist, you must just be one of the many women in the black and white maid dress uniform whose name nor face he cannot bother to remember.

People like Diluc bother you deeply and yet whenever you try to bring up his poor manners with your peers, they all tell you to be more understanding of the young Master. Adelinde had even scolded you for your criticisms of him! What you cannot figure out is how everyone seems to be so enchanted by the red-haired wine tycoon when you can barely stand him. Why is that? You simply let out a huff as you continue on with your duties, dusting all of his many ornaments which you see only as a means to flaunt his wealth.

The following day, you approach the manor in the early morning in order to begin work for that day but you overhear yelling. You go around to the side of the manor to find Diluc chewing out the delivery man, so angry that the shade of his face is beginning to resemble that of his hair, all while the delivery man looks at him in astoundment and cannot get so much as a word in between the young Master’s infuriated rambling.

“I’m tired of your lack of manners!” You interject and suddenly both heads turn to you, Diluc’s brows pinching together.

“Excuse me?” He asks.

“You heard me! I’m sick of you being so rude to the people who work for you all the time!” You watch as he closes his scarlet eyes and takes in a deep breath through his nose, straightening his posture as he attempts to recompose himself. He turns to the delivery man.

“Your mistake was costly and I expect it to not be repeated, now if you will excuse me,” He turns to you and, with a hand between your shoulder blades, begins to usher you inside until you are standing just inside his office. “I have been very stressed as of late and I hope you can forgive me Miss…?” His eyes soften when he realises that he does not even know the name of this employee of his.

“Y/n.”

“Miss Y/n.” He finishes, “My behaviour will change. Does that improve your work environment?”

“It’s not about that! You need to be nice to people!” You protest. Diluc’s brow twitches. He is unaware that the amount of stress he is under has made him more blunt as of late but you are new and do not know him as the gentleman he was raised to be. As he sees it, you are both in the wrong: him for slacking off on his manners and you for making such assumptions about him.

“I am nice to people, my father raised me to be so.” He begins, “Why don’t I give you an opportunity to see me for who I am and I can make things up to you? I do not want you to be unhappy with me if you are working for me, Miss Y/n.” He suggests.

“And how would you make it up to me?” You eye him warily.

“If it is not too forward or suggesting anything inappropriate, I’d like to take you to dinner in order to apologise and show you the sort of man I really am. Would you allow me to do so?” He asks softly, his tone vastly different to the snapping and yelling you had heard from him no less than ten minutes ago outside. You think back to what Adelinde and the other maids had said about him. Perhaps they were right? Perhaps you truly didn’t have the chance to know Diluc for who he really is and you have simply met him in poor timing?

“... Very well. If it is for an apology and nothing inappropriate.” You agree, “When?”

“Take the day off, please, I insist. We will meet tonight if you are available to?” He reaches down for your hand, feeling its softness even through his gloves as he presses a kiss to your darkened skin. “Do not overwork yourself as I have done these past weeks.”

“Tonight works, yes.” You suddenly begin to understand why so many women chase after this charming young man.

“Good.” He smiles softly at you. “Then we will meet over dinner tonight.” He watches your soft and curvaceous figure leave his office as he looks forward to this evening. You were right to call him out on his behaviour – he had forgotten his manners and he values a woman who knows the importance of them and is not afraid to stand up for her principles.

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silver-tooth-the-panther · 1 year ago

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(This was requested by @muzansmissingspiderlily. I hope you enjoy this! By the way, Kōkai means regret in Japanese.)

Sins of The Fathers

(A Demon Slayer Vore Fic)

Warnings: Suicide attempt, guilt and regret, soft vore

Word Count: 810

The young black-haired boy stood upon the cliff. He was waiting for the sun to rise, but it wasn’t for human reasons. This boy, Kōkai, was the son of the former Demon King, Muzan Kibutsuji. He was the only one of his father’s children to know of the monstrosities that he had committed and the regret and guilt had slowly devoured him.

Kōkai had officially escaped his father’s grasp right before the demon slayers defeated him. He had no clue that the demon society had changed due to Tanjiro taking the throne. Unfortunately, the guilt of knowing that his father had slain so many innocents was tearing him apart. The young boy outcasted himself and only chose to eat animals to control his demon urges.

However, Kōkai’s guilt grew too strong for the young boy to handle. That is how he found himself here, waiting to be burned away by the sun. “I’m so sorry.” He said to himself with a voice coated in sorrow and sincerity. “Sorry for what?” A deep, yet warm voice spoke through the darkness of the forest. Kōkai jumped with fright.

“Be not afraid..my dear child.” The voice’s owner then stepped out of the bushes. He was a tall man with long black hair, which seemed to have red tips. The man wore a purple and black kimono and a black hakana that firmly tightened with white cloth. Undoubtedly, the man’s strangest feature was his eyes. He had six of them! All of them red with yellow pupils. This man was none other than..Kokusibo, the Uppermoon One demon.

Kōkai had met this demon before, but only once. It was when he accidentally found out his father was a monster. The young boy had gotten lost in the Infinity Castle during one of Muzan’s meetings. There, he stumbled upon his father, conversing with his fellow demons on the different ways they could kill the Hashira. So, he did have good blood with Kokushibo.

“Why are you here? Did my father send you?” Kōkai asked, gritting his teeth. Kokushibo raised his hand, indicating for him to be quiet. “Not at all..dear child..Your father..is gone.” His voice was oddly gentle and sympathetic, which was unlike the stoic and cold voice that Kōkai had heard previously. “Well good riddance! That man was nothing, but a monster!”

Kōkai turned back to the horizon. The sun’s rays were starting to come up. Kokushibo then seemingly started to panic. “Young one..you’ll die if you stay out here..you need to hide!” The young boy shook his head. “You don’t care for my well being! You’re a man eating demon!” Kokushibo sighed with a heavy heart. “I have committed many sins..but things are different now..our new leader forbids us to eat humans..and we’ve become better people because of him.”

Kōkai looked away from him. “Even if that’s true, that doesn’t make what my father did any less evil.” The sun slowly started to rise. “Yes..but it is not your burden to bear!” Kokushibo realized that the boy wasn’t listening to him, so he did the only thing he could do. The six-eyed half-demon rushed towards the boy. He blocked Kōkai’s body from the sun with his own. “Wha-? What are you doing?!”

Kokushibo didn’t respond. He picked up the young boy, opened his maw, and put him inside. “Hey! Stop!” Kōkai struggled against the soft, purple muscles of Kokushibo’s throat. His struggles were fruitless and it only quickened his journey to Kokushibo’s belly.

Due to the drastic size difference, Kōkai didn’t leave much of a mark on Kokushibo’s body. The large demon sighed in relief and rubbed his stomach. “It’s alright..little one…You’re safe now..” Kōkai tried his best to escape the pouch-like organ. “What do you mean?! You ate me!” Kokushibo made a soft, yet sad rumble. “You will not be harmed..I’m merely keeping you out of the sun..”

Kōkai exhausted himself and curled up into a ball. “I deserve it. My father hurt so many innocent lives.” Kokushibo’s heart broke into pieces. He didn’t want the boy to suffer like this. “It is not your fault..They were his actions..not yours..you are not anything like your father…you..are not a monster.”

They boy closed his eyes and listened to the soft gurgles of Kokushibo’s stomach and his heartbeat. These sounds coupled with the warmth and softness of his belly greatly soothed Kōkai. “Are you sure that the demons don’t eat humans anymore?” Kokushibo nodded. “I’m certain..” Kōkai smiled and rubbed the stomach walls around him. “Alright, thank you.”

Kokushibo smiled to himself as he started to walk off. “Of course..little one…You’ll be adored..by the kingdom..” He placed a protective hand over his stomach as he started to head back to the kingdom that he loved dearly.

#half-demon! tanjiro au #comfort vore #safe vore #soft vore #vore writing #demon slayer vore #sfw vore

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lazyvase · 8 months ago

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TMNT 2036

The King and The Hunter

I am currently working on the outline for season 1 of TMNT 2036. I've mentioned all of the characters appearing in the season, except for two. One can be discussed directly, the other must take a more... obscuring view. So without further ado, meet The King and The Hunter.

The King

Splinter finally looked behind himself. At the end of his tail was a knot. But, it was not only his tail. Another rat's tail, the same size, was intertwined with his. His eyes trailed up the tail. A grey body was at the end. It was a rat, a rat as big as him. Its bandages couldn't hide the exposed bloody bones and the rotting green flesh. The head held a glowing, piercing red eye.

Splinter gasped. He instinctively stepped away. His leg shattered. He screamed. A burning carved through his whole body. He collapsed to his good knee.

Between his choking and within the corner of his eye, Splinter saw the body start to stand. From the floor, it grabbed a long, black trench coat and matching wide-brimmed hat, and put them on.

"What's the matter Splinter?" The rat had a hollow, rattling voice. "Don't you recognize your future?" He laughed.

The Hunter

I was hesitant on including Leatherhead at first. He's been done so many different ways. I wasn't sure if I could bring anything new to the table.

However, I soon decided on making a merge between the 1987 and 2012 versions. I wanted this hunter style character to be a devoted ally of the turtles. I also took a smidge of inspiration from Mutant Mayhem and made my Leatherhead female.

Now, I'm about 90% sure on her origin. As stated before in the Bishop post, the X-Triad dumped mutagen on Earth. They did this for at least centuries. However, they eventually discovered that mutagen actually had an effect on the local wildlife, and soon realized this would reflect badly on their society. So, the Obscura Secreti (Mirage) was set up. This organization's goal was to remove all the mutagen and mutants from the planet, as well as cover up the existence of both. (Fun fact: Ch'rell was part of the Obscura Secreti. He considered it a waste of his abilities.) Most mutants were either demutated or killed, however there was one major exception. A mutant alligator possessed the ability to sense and track other mutants. Finding her sense more effective than any of their scanners, the Obscura Secreti used Leatherhead to find mutants, which resulted either the mutant's demutation, or Leatherhead having a nice meal.

Now, the Obscura Secreti would be attacked many times by humanity. Countless human civilizations (such as The Foot Clan) wanted the goo that creates powerful beasts and monsters which in turn could be used to destroy enemies and conquer others. Thus, throughout humanity's history, raid's were carried out on Obscura Secreti facilities in order to take mutagen. One of these raids caused the total destruction of the base, resulting in Leatherhead being let loose in the world.

Over her long life, Leatherhead explored the changing world. She's been across every square inch of the world, both land and sea. She even came across my version of The Hidden City (AKA Y'Lyntias). It's there she learned that she should not eat mutants that can talk.

An incident early into her travels was her encounter with a human hunter, Jack Marlin. Marlin was a fanatical big game hunter, with a focus on unique and real animals. He attempted to hunt Leatherhead.

She ate him.

Fortunately, Marlin tasted really bad, and so she hasn't tried to eat a human since. She did take his clothes and gun. His shotgun, Betsy (the name was etched into it), is Leatherhead's signature weapon. His vest and pants were the first ones she ever wore. She couldn't fit his shirt on (the vest was already being stretched), and before you ask, even as a mutant, she doesn't have breasts. To this day she still wears Marlin's hat, even though it has his name on it.

Eventually, she found herself in New York's sewers. There she found 4 mutant turtles and a mutant rat. She quickly endeared herself to the four young boys with her tales of the world above. The rat was not pleased. Regardless, she became enamored with the family, and began to make an effort to visit regularly between her travels. She saw them grow and their skills improve. Donnie often repaired and even upgraded Betsy. As she visited, their desire to see the surface only grew.

Leatherhead is an aunt/grandma to the turtles. Distinctly a extended relative. Leatherhead is an in-law for Splinter. And Splinter hasn't even been married.

Leatherhead's physical appearance is a mix between 2012 and 1987. Her body is very similar to 2012, though the limbs aren't strangely thin at some places (kinda like the LEGO figure). Her clothing is heavily based on the 1987 version.

(Images of Marlin for further outfit reference)

#tmnt #tmnt 2036 #tmnt iteration #the rat king #leatherhead #this is the appetizer

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camillemontespan · 2 years ago

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the memory of us [drake & camille AU]

@katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @gardeningourmet @kingliam2019 @saivilo @walkerswhiskeygirl @sophxwithers A/N: I was watching The Vow earlier..

Camille gently pulled Lily’s fluffy pink sweater over her head. As the little girl pulled her arms through, her hair became static and stood up to attention.

‘Look at your hair!’ Camille cried, giving Lily a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

Lily looked in the mirror and laughed, pressing her hand against the static hair. ‘I look so funny!’

Now that the sweater was on, all that was left was to zip up Lily’s denim skirt and pull her pink boots on. Lily loved pink.

‘Okay, we’re nearly ready,’ Camille told her. ‘Now go say goodbye to daddy- he’s going to pick you up from school later.’

Lily grinned and bolted down the corridor to find her father. Camille smiled and looked at herself in the mirror; she looked prepared for the meeting later with Liam. With her hair pulled up into a chignon, she was wearing a white cashmere sweater paired with black trousers and nude Manolo heels.

She looked like a different person from the Camille of five years ago. Not that she minded; she wouldn’t trade this new life for anything. Drake, Lily and Luna were her world.

Camille grabbed her trench coat and walked quickly down the corridor towards the kitchen where Lily was telling Drake all about her dream last night. Luna was sitting in her high chair, eyeing the banana Drake was trying to get her to eat warily.

‘Lils, it’s time to go,’ Camille called.

‘Give me a hug, kiddo,’ Drake said, abandoning the spoon with the banana and crouching down to give his daughter a hug. ‘Make good choices.’

Lily snuggled into him. Drake was, in her opinion, the best dad in the whole world.

Camille pressed a kiss on top of Luna’s forehead, smiling as Luna gurgled. She felt Drake take her hand and she turned to kiss him.

‘And you,’ he murmured against her mouth, ‘you should also make good choices.’

Camille felt herself blush. How did Drake still manage to make her blush even after five years? How did he manage to still have this effect on her?

‘I’ll be home by five,’ she told him, breaking away.

‘Spaghetti at six,’ Drake replied, settling down to attempt to feed Luna again.

Camille gave him another quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Love you,’ she whispered, before taking hold of Lily’s hand and rushing her out the kitchen. She had realised that despite being organised this morning, time had run away with her and she was going to be late dropping Lily to school.

With her handbag in one hand and Lily’s backpack and favourite teddy bear in the other, she followed Lily outside to the car.

‘So, shall we listen to Taylor Swift or Harry Styles this morning?’ Camille asked, quickly strapping Lily in.

Lily thought about it for a moment, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

‘Harry!’ she finally decided, giving Camille a happy smile.

****************

Camille dropped Lily off at school with Harry Styles blaring from the car speakers. Some of the parents turned to look but Camille didn’t care. Whenever she drove - and that wasn’t often because she was a reckless driver, which was severely at odds with her usual careful and calm personality- she always had the music on loud.

Once Lily was safely in the building, Camille drove through the busy streets towards the palace. As the Duchess of Valtoria, Camille had monthly meetings with King Liam to discuss her duchy. If Camille thought about it too much, she would freak out realising just how much her life had changed in five years. From being a waitress in New York to a Duchess in a tiny European country, married with two kids.. It was ridiculous.

But she wouldn’t change it.

She eyed the clock and could see she was running late. She had five minutes to get the palace and it was currently fifteen minutes away.

Shit..

She accelerated quicker and could see that the amber light just ahead was about to turn red. Her foot pressed down harder but the amber light still turned red.

Camille kept driving, thinking she could easily make it.

It was an ill-judged decision.

The car that had been granted right of way drove straight into Camille’s side of the car. Brakes were applied, glass smashed and Camille’s head bore the impact.

***************************

‘The Duchess of Valtoria has been involved in a car accident early this morning….’

‘...currently in hospital receiving treatment…’

‘Her husband is refusing to speak to reporters…’

Camille’s vision was blurred. There was a pounding pain in the side of her head. She felt like she had been run over.

‘Please, Your Grace, please calm down-’

‘I will not calm down-’

Camille tried to blink, wanting her vision to go back to normal. She could make out bright lights above her and shadowy figures, one of them gesturing wildly.

‘Turn this shit off, we don’t need to hear this shit-’

The sounds of other voices were quieted and only two remained near Camille.

‘Your Grace, please just listen to me-’

Camille groaned and the voice broke off. She could feel someone take her hand. Calloused fingers. Big, warm palms. Comforting hands.

‘Camille?’

‘Uggnnhghhh…’ she groaned.

Her eyes adjusted and she could now see clearly.

**************************

Drake’s heart was pounding in his chest as he stared down at his wife. There was a horrible purple bruise on her forehead and a long red gash. She looked pretty banged up; not surprising considering the other car that had crashed into her side.

She blinked slowly and was now looking at him groggily.

‘Camille!’ he breathed. ‘Oh thank god you’re awake, thank god..’

He leaned down to bring her hand up to his mouth and he pressed an urgent kiss on her clenched fist. ‘I thought you’d died, I heard about it on the news first’-

‘Your Grace..’

‘But you’re okay, you’re safe!’ he couldn’t stop talking. Since he saw the news headlines flash on the TV, he thought his world had ended.

‘Your Grace..’

The doctor’s voice was like a warning.

Drake stopped talking and turned to look at Doctor Santiago. She was looking at Camille with concern.

Drake looked back down at his wife to see her staring at him looking terrified.

‘Who are you?’ she croaked.

And that was when Drake’s world ended.

#drake walker #drake choices #trr #drake and camille

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forthesanityofstorytellers · 2 years ago

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Redmoon

A piece I worked on for a competition.

Fantasy Summary: The Bear Prince isn’t sure he agrees with tradition. The one arranged to be his mate is very sure she does not. WC:3314

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Hair hanging off his skeletal shoulders and hips, the old Bear king breathed in a rattling sigh. The hot air brushed his drooping whiskers, the thinning fur covering his upper and lower lips turning black like the lower mountains. He turned his fading gaze to observe his son's argument one last time.

His son, the last-born of his mother, shuffled with indecision. Unlike the king, his son's coat held the rust from the mountains, a dull red. Fat filled out his ribs and stomach, a good sign of health. The mountain tunnels were carved by magic, smoothed by thick fur constantly wearing away at the stone. Fat was a needed insulation against the rough terrain.

The young prince shifted his weight, short back legs folded under him and submerged in belly and hip fur. The king did not understand his insistence on using all four legs when the Bear's forelegs were four times the length of their back ones, when many generations before him had learned to use said forelegs to pull their way through life. The need of back legs was nearly non-existent.

Yet his son persisted. Yet he ignored it. He loved his youngest cub, peculiarities aside.

"Speak, Redmoon," the king sighed, rolling further onto his wide shoulder in order to see better. "I groan with age."

Redmoon huffed his words before saying them, large round ears swatting at the sides of his head. Building up his courage, he lifted his stubby face to meet his father's gaze.

"The marriage," he said. "I must bring it up once more.”

The king nodded. "Your protests have been heard."

"But--"

"For many revolutions, this task has been set down as such. The last Appointed son before the king succumbs to death must be the one who takes stewardship of the kingdom. It is how the kings before us proceeded, and it is what we shall do now. You are the youngest, yet to be bonded. Your mate has been selected, a strong victor in the past. This contest will be her final test. Should she prove the ability to consume the most food in the selected time, she will show her ability to maintain energy throughout the cold seasons and sustain strong cubs. Should she fail, I will be forced to find another arrangement for you next Season. Yet I am old, and my time is near. Should I die before you are mated, tradition dictates your brother will take over."

"If we can find him," Redmoon grumbled.

"Then it will continue up the line of your mated brothers until a leader is found." Shifting his weight onto one arm, long claws scraping the stone as he moved, the king leaned forward. "This is how it is. This is how it has always been. If you are not bonded before I die, you are to be Descended in the name of tradition. Cast down the mountain to live among the strangers of the forest, likely to die there. Outcast. Never to return. Does this please you?"

Redmoon wanted to scream. He wanted to demand a change in tradition. Yet he knew what tradition dictated. The weight of his bloodline pulled his neck down as he shook his head. "No," he muttered, words caught in the fur around his mouth. "It does not."

"Then we are ended." The King groaned as he reclined, stretching his neck and rolling onto his stomach. He relented in his son's silence. "I do not wish for unhappiness, but our role among the clan is strength...keeping tradition and a strong bloodline." When Redmoon did not respond, standing in defeated silence, the king realized there was nothing new he could say and closed his weary eyes. "The contest is soon. Please ensure the food is gathered."

Redmoon did as asked, bending until his stomach touched stone and reaching forward in order to crawl his way out. The tunnels were tight, but the time-worn rock was smooth and easily passable. Eventually the purple light of the sky was found, Redmoon pulling his way from the cavern entrance and pausing long enough to heave himself upright. Unconventional as it was, some days he didn't feel like rolling around on his stomach.

Just like some days he didn't feel like being married for the sole purpose of tradition.

His back legs shook with the extra weight, but he leaned heavily forward until most of it comfortably rested around his shoulders and arms. Placing one curled fist in front of the other, he lurched his way across the mountain ledge until he found a path sloping upward. Several of his Clan were either climbing up the sheer wall or lowering themselves down the dark red surface of the mountain. With a heavy sigh, he uncurled his claws and heaved his way upward, muttering and thinking as he climbed.

There was only one true way out of this arrangement; sabotage. Yet he wasn't sure he was strong enough to see it through. His father and forefather had done things this way. Would it be so bad?

He gave his head a shake. No. Don't bow to tradition without knowing why tradition stands. That's what he believed, and what he had tried to tell his father over and over again.

But his father was a king stuck in his ways, constantly lecturing on the importance of bonding to a Silver-claw female he had never met. She had heard of him, certainly, but it didn't change the fact the two were unlikely to meet before the contest.

Reaching the top, Redmoon slid his stomach over the edge and settled himself back on all fours, loping his way to the refined rock of the competition stage. The large ledge here had been cleaned and smoothed by both claw and magic, something he often heard of but had never seen. Females and males alike carried food on their backs, all manner of plant life stuffed into baskets of woven vines and giant shells.

As each gatherer moved around the mountaintop, they slid their way to several sloped holes in the mountain where another, larger basket waited at the lowest point, tipping the foot from one basket into another. There was one basket for each contestant, the tip of the slopes placed so the king could watch how the females ate and ensure no one cheated. The fruit was separated and shuffled into equal bits, as were the plant stalks, leaves, and berries. Each contestant was assured equal footing with her rivals, all females competing for the prospective males that were sure to attend.

Redmoon listlessly moved around the stage, swatting away small pebbles and watching as they danced their way off the edge of the mountain, envying their ability to flee. In a perfect world, he would be free to leave the mountain without the scorn of tradition or the weight of knowing he would never be welcome back.

A breeze blew sideways, carrying strange whisperings to his ears. In trying to determine who it was or where it came from, he found himself looking back towards the stage.

As most of the gatherers moved away, content in their mission to gather food, he spotted a single bear that had stayed behind; a silver-coated female was propped up on one arm, the other arm moving over a basket while her head was amongst the fruit. The whispers came from her. She was using magic, ancient words woven into a string of willpower and direction. The food. She was sending energy to the food. The basket's contents began to blacken and curl at the edges before snapping back to normal; he didn't know what she was doing, but clearly, it was meant to be undetectable to the eye.

He was going to turn, to let her be, when he spotted a pair of guards pulling their way along the mountain.

Shuffling up behind her, he wrapped a giant paw around her arm and tugged her off-balance. Her whisperings came to an abrupt halt as she realized she had been caught.

"Come with me," he said quietly, "unless you want to be caught."

She glanced around and spotted the guards. Staring only for a moment, ears swatting the humid air away, she huffed and turned back to him. He dropped to his stomach and began crawling away with her at his heels. They slid together towards the nearest edge, planting claws into the rough edge of the stage and swinging their stubby tails over. Gravity took hold and soon the pair were crawling down the slopes of the mountain. Redmoon didn’t stop until he found himself on a small cavern ledge, a wide cave yawning nearby. The Silver-claw landed soon after, and he nudged her until they were both hidden.

The pair sat at the edge, straining to hear of any sign her magics had been discovered. But no warning shouts came. Her tamperings had not been found. Redmoon turned to her and placed a hand on her arm, but a growl rumbled deep in her chest as she twisted away and swiped an angry blow at him.

"Why did you stop me?!?" she snarled. "It was almost done!!"

"You are lucky I caught you and not the guards," Redmoon growled. "Do you know what it is to stake the game before it is set?"

"Eviction," she barked. "And it cannot come soon enough."

"What is it to you?" he demanded. "Why sabotage this contest?"

"Because this is the one where the king shackles me to his cubling prince for the sake of tradition, and I will not have it!!"

Ah. So, this was Mistcloak, the female his father selected to mate him, should she win. His betrothed wanted as much part of the bonding contest as he did. He wondered how many others in the Clan felt this way, how many Bears participated in the bonding feast contest against their wishes.

"Not simple eviction," he snapped, shaking his head. "You are supposed to be bonded to the prince. The king would likely Descend you for such a thing."

"Better than being bonded to a cubling!!" she roared. He didn’t respond, and the silence was filled as she took a deep breath, snorting out the rest of her anger, unused to the fire it left in her belly. "Besides, I was in no danger. One of the guards is with me, a silver-claw also unliking of tradition. He allowed me to gather so I could alter my chances."

“Was he among the two above?”

She glanced back up at the mountainside. “...No. He was to be watching, to ensure I was not caught. I am...unsure why he did not call out.”

Redmoon studied her a moment more. All the anger and frustration had given way to worry and confusion, a cycle he often found himself treading. He took a breath. "What magic did you use?” he asked. “I have...not seen such a thing before."

The change in subject distracted her. She glanced at him. "You wouldn't if you were born to a hold higher up," she said, now sniffing around the cave. "We use such Language against troublesome plants; ones poisoned or invasive. It harms them little, yet sickens them enough to cease growing for a moon or so, giving us a chance to move them. I used it on the fruit because the price for such magics turns the plant inedible. Sickens those who try."

"So you would avoid winning, but not in a way to disown your last victories."

She nodded, now inspecting the cavern's insides. Something sparkled against the black walls and drew her attention. "What is this place?" she abruptly asked, tipping her head. "What is in the walls?"

He smiled, moving to answer her question with a display. "It is where the obsidian flowers bloom." Picking up a paw, he scraped at the blackened wall. A small cloud of dust and ash fell away to reveal a sharp black stone set into a fragile-looking flower. "My mother used to bring me here. We always came to watch the blooming, when the flowers free themselves and extend their roots, catching the low mountain winds and lifting into the air."

"I did not know they bloomed in such a dark place," she said, looking down further into the cave. "Our hold only sees them on the winds."

He glanced at her. “You wouldn’t if you were in the lower holds.” She snorted at him and he smiled. "My mother would tell me that even flowers bloom in the dark of the mountain...and that we should be no different." Looking back, his mother might have always believed he was different. Perhaps she even loved him for it.

Mistcloak's voice matched the stillness of the cave. "Who was she?"

"Starsing.” His voice matched hers as his gaze slid to her face. “My mother’s name was Starsing." Her eyes widened, heart leaping into her throat as she recognized the name.

"StarSing...the Queen?!"

He nodded.

"So you...?"

"I am the cubling prince," he said gently with a short smile. "And I do not approve of this bonding contest either."

Mistcloak let out a hard breath, brows furrowed in confusion. "But if..." she shook her head. "Why did you stop me?"

He hesitated. "...First, I must know…” He wanted to ask, but the words stuck between his short whiskers. Turning instead to the flowers, he reached out and plucked one from the wall, watched as the petals fluttered in the gentle breeze. "...Are you so repulsed by me?"

She shook her head, glancing down at the flower. "It is not repulsion. Not to you. I am repulsed by the contrived nature of it all.” She turned back to the wall, a finger idly trailing along the center of a flower. “Bonding myself until death to a mate I've never met? Based on a single fact of how well my stomach holds. How well I might birth the next line. Is my life so unimportant it must be lashed to a stranger who only desires my future? Can I not find a mate whom I enjoy? Who enjoys my present, however strange?"

He looked up at her with a soft smile. "My Mistcloak...I have wondered the exact same.” She glanced at him, eyes narrowing. He explained. “The simple nature of my birth brought about a burden I am unsure I want. Yet I must share this unwanted burden with someone of whom I know nothing. We are expected to hold burdens together, to sleep, to mate...all for reasons unknown."

"Then change things!" she said with a snort, slamming a free fist into the ground. "You are higher than me; can you not terminate the arrangement?!"

"I am higher in name only," he groaned, rolling back on his hips. He could see just beyond the cave’s edge, the purple sky giving way to the faint light of the red moon. The deep red light illuminated the edge of the mountain, his eyes following the tip above him all the way down to where the edges sprawled out below him like one giant paw, branching out into different sections as trees rose up to meet the mountainside. "I have tried talking to my father and gained nothing. Yet with you…” he looked back at her. “Perhaps we can both get what we desire."

She tilted her head and waited.

Rolling back up on his feet, he glanced at the flower in his hand, holding it out to her. "We will wait until after the gatherers are done. I will go to the stage and dismiss the guards for a moment. Once they leave, you are free to work such ill on more baskets than yours...that way, it will merely look as if the food was gathered from an ill place. You will not get in trouble."

She agreed, and together they waited.

The next sky-shift saw all the nine holds of the Bear clan gathered at the mountain top, each of them laying before their respective piles. Silver coats, red fur, and a mottling of black and white reflected the strong red light of the sky, while brown coats shuffled among black coats. Rusty red noses twitched at the food, while large ears flapped back and forth in anticipation. The king pulled himself onto the stage, a long slope rising to the edge of a large, hollowed-out cave from where he would watch. The edge of the king’s stage rose to a pointed peak, allowing him to pull his way to the highest vantage point in order to best watch the contest.

Redmoon slid his way behind his father, sliding into place next to the rising platform. He could not help but look for Mistcloak among the crowd of females, ears swatting feverishly in anticipation of their plan.

The king let out a thunderous roar. The contest began. The females dug their faces into their piles, eating as much as they could. Some sliced the stalks for less chewing, while others swallowed fruit whole. Bellies began to enlarge as they ate, food stretching the stomach as wide as possible.

There she was. Redmoon spotted the glint of a clean silver coat jostling among the crowd. He watched intently, waiting to see if she finished her work. As planned, a few females began to fall ill. One from the rusty mines spewed her contents onto the floor. A brown forest-hold roared in pain and smashed her pile with her claws. A small handful of pepper-print females collapsed, and soon Mistcloak herself succumbed.

Redmoon watched, silent dismay starting to creep among his insides. He did not think so many would suffer at his actions. More and more females fell ill, some crying out or casting sad looks towards a male nearby as they were pulled from the stage. He turned slightly to watch the females taken off the field and realized he didn’t know their preference on bonding. He hadn’t thought of what they wanted, hadn’t bothered to ask for what they hoped.

His stomach churned. In his efforts to free himself, he had not considered anything other than himself. No one had bothered to ask if he wanted tradition, and so he had performed exactly as he had been taught; thinking of his place in tradition, and only his place.

If he were to change tradition, perhaps he must think beyond his own skin.

His mind turned to Mistcloak. He looked for her among the crowd again, and saw her being helped off the stage. She was so much stronger than he; stronger in will, mind, and body. She had taken action while he did nothing. Had elected to choose her fate while he moaned and cried. Had worked at first so that only she would be taken from the running and others would still have a chance to perform. She had not let her disgust of tradition poison her view of those around her.

Perhaps his father had not chosen so poorly.

The young prince drew a look of annoyance from his father, claws tapping the stone as he fidgeted. He wanted to make sure Mistcloak was well, despite her reassurances the poison would only last a short time. But it was his duty to stay put until the contest was ended. He fidgeted and fiddled with the tips of his ear-hairs when he could, resisting the core of him that sought to race to her and help her.

He recognized strength and companionship in her; for too long, he thought he was alone. Alone in his understanding of tradition and where he fit in. Alone in his distaste of doing something for the sake of the generation before...but with someone like her...someone strong enough, believing the same as himself...perhaps together, they could change tradition. Perhaps.

#Redmoon #Mabanu universe #short stories #my work #my writing

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emi-writings · 2 years ago

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Burning Iron and Honey Sweet Promises: Chapter One

Fae AU. Tntduo.

Wilbur is a witch born in a village of fae hunters. One day, his father and brother brings back the Unseelie King.

Eight of Swords. The Tower. Death.

Past. Present. Future.

A simple three card tarot spread.

One of the more common and well-known tarot card spreads.

His past – the Eight of Swords. A tarot card that embodied restriction, imprisonment. Being trapped between a rock and a hard place, with no resolution available. It could mean anything from an unfulfilling job to an abusive and toxic relationship. While it wasn’t always a good card, in the past position it made Wilbur feel at least a little settled. All of that was his past, he no longer needed to be worried about it.

His present – The Tower. A tarot card that symbolized the unexpected, upheaval, massive change, destruction, and chaos. It could mean anything from financial or relationship problems, to natural disasters and death. Now, The Tower could also have positive meanings – it wasn’t all pain and turmoil. It could technically also be a card of spiritual awakening or revelation. Wilbur doubted it.

His future – Death. A tarot card that represented change, transitions, transformations, and endings. The Death card symbolized getting rid of that which no longer served you, clearing away limiting factors to door to a more satisfying experience of life. However, literal death wasn’t completely off the table, and with the cards he had laid out in front of him, Wilbur wasn’t ruling out any of the possibilities when The Tower was involved.

Wilbur hadn’t been given the opportunity to ruminant on the cards for very long, as he heard commotion from outside his house. He tried to gather up his cards, but his peace was disturbed by a loud bang as his door slammed open, followed by thundering footsteps. Technoblade, his brother, through open the kitchen door, covered in blood of red and gold, clearly injured.

“Lapis, get your cloak and mask on! Now” Techno snapped.

Wilbur frowned, “Your injuries—”

“Now!”

Before Wilbur could reply or continue what he had wanted to say, Technoblade quickly reached for Wilbur’s cloak on the other side of the kitchen bench. Wilbur sighed and pulled up his face scarf before he secured his mask over his eyes. He had always hated the masks his father forced him to wear – they had a thin fabric that obscured his eyes, but frustrated Wilbur to no end. He could still see, but everything was slightly tinted. Technoblade tossed the cloak around his shoulders and fastened it, while Wilbur replaced his gloves. As soon as Technoblade stepped back, Wilbur knew he had turned into a simple blob of brown and tans, nothing of interest.

“Can I tend to your wounds now, Gold?” Wilbur asked his brother with venom laced words.

“Keep quiet, Lapis!” Techno hissed, a slight edge to his tone.

Wilbur rolled his eyes at that and went to retort, but he was once again interrupted – this time by a screech. Multiple people yelled and called out as something screeched and hissed at them. This was accompanied by the sound of crashes and metal as it clanked against other metal, furious and frenzied. Technoblade immediately pushed Wilbur behind him and drew his sword as the sounds pulled closer and closer. But the sounds weren’t coming from inside the house, instead it came from the kitchen window. So, in all his curiosity and concern, Wilbur rushed forward to the window to take a peek.

In that moment Wilbur finally understood what people meant when they said the fae were inhumanely beautiful.

Phil was accompanied by a group of men – nearly every hunter in the village – and each of them held onto a separate chain that connected to their prisoner. The fae was bound by its wrist and ankles with fic metal cuffs, which rendered its long, red coated talons unless. its wings of black, gray, and white feathers were tied with chains. They even had a collar sat heavy on its neck, which showed signs of burning where it touched the fae’s skin. All tools of cold iron Wilbur had blessed the last new moon. A cloth gag had been shoved into its mouth, tied tightly around its head, and Wilbur was almost certain a rock or knot had been added to make the gag more effective.

The fae struggled despite the heavy bonds and deadly weapons that surrounded it. It glared defiantly into the eyes of the hunters around it with the eye that wasn’t covered by golden blood. It was almost impressive, how much effort it forced the hunters to use, even though it clearly should have suffered from iron sickness at that point. When it settled his gaze on Wilbur, the witch felt himself freeze under that stare. But Technoblade finally caught up with Wilbur and pulled him back, away from the window and the fae’s sight.

“What were you thinking?!” Technoblade snapped.

Wilbur glared at him, despite his brother being unable to see it, “What I was thinking was that you were murdering some kind of animal out there! What the fuck are you doing? Why is there a fae in our village? And why aren’t you at the healers?”

“The healers are busy right now – I’m not the only one who was injured, I’m just the one who isn’t dying,” Technoblade explained with a sigh, “And that fae is the key to saving everyone.”

“What do you mean ‘the key to saving everyone’? Because from my vantage point, it looked kind of murderous— sit down. If you’re not going to the healer, then I will do it” Wilbur said as he rummaged through the healing supplies, “At least I know where mom is now. I thought the ritual preparations were taking too long.”

“Right, the new moon isn’t too far away. We really need more supplies after that whole fight” Technoblade hissed as Wilbur disinfected a cut on his face.

“How powerful was this thing?” Wilbur said as he grabbed one of the salves.

Before Technoblade could answer that question, they both heard the sound of the front door opening. His brother jolted, moved to his feet immediately to stand at attention, which caused Wilbur to give him an unseen eye roll as his father walked into home. He looked disheveled, coated in red and gold, with clothes torn to shreds. He gave Technoblade a gesture, and the latter fell at ease back into his seat, which Wilbur took as permission to keep treatment. Phil glanced around the room with a frown.

“Where is your mother?” Phil asked.

Wilbur sighed, “Busy at the healers, by the looks of things. What is going on?”

“We captured the Unseelie King.”

Wilbur nearly dropped what he was holding, “That was the King of the Unseelie Court? Are you insane?!”

“This is the opportunity of a lifetime – with the Unseelie King at our mercy we can potentially save humanity from the threat of fae forever. No one will have to live in fear anymore” Phil explained.

“How exactly did you get to that conclusion?” Wilbur questioned.

“We can make a deal of some kind. Force their hand so they can’t leave their realm or stop them from being able to harm anyone” Phil continued.

“Is this a good idea?” Wilbur asked his cards as he shuffled the deck.

“Lapis—”

“Oh, that’s a big yikes right there” Wilbur held up the card he had drawn, “Ten of Swords.”

Phil dropped his weapons down with a loud thud, “Lapis!”

And the room fell into a tense silence.

“Sorry,” Wilbur muttered after a moment.

“Gold and I will handle anything related to the Unseelie King” Phil sat down at the bench, “No real names, we don’t know how good its hearing is and we can’t risk it. That means no removing the cloak and mask unless absolutely necessary. No going anywhere near the cellar.”

“What about the new moon ritual?” Wilbur asked.

Phil sighed, “You wear a cloak to the ritual circle and back. A heavy one. Fae can sense magical energy; we’re not giving any of them the chance to get a feel of yours. No going anywhere near the cellar.”

“Oh, of course,” Wilbur gathered his cards, “Stay away from the fae.”

The cellar doors were cold iron, heavily bound by iron chains. Around it was a line of black salt, highly protective salt that could only be made by witches. Above the doors were bundles of primroses, rowan wood twigs, and a St. John’s wort. There wasn’t any way a fae could enter or leave the cellar. The iron would burn their fingers, and the salt would stop and magic or enchantments, so they couldn’t use that to open the door. The other items also worked, but in between the iron and salt, Wilbur thought they were just a touch excessive.

The Devil. The Tower. Ten of Swords.

Those were the cards that had forced Wilbur to stand before the cellar door in the middle of the night. Three cards that had answered the question “what would happen if the Unseelie King died?” in the most terrifying way possible. So, there he was, a stolen key in one hand, an unlit lantern in the other, with a bag of salves, balms, tonics and food slung over his shoulder. All because he knew he couldn’t let the fae fall to his injuries.

The cellar door didn’t creek when it opened – a sign that it had been well maintained. Despite the fact that it worked in his favor, Wilbur could help but think that it would have been better if Phil had let the doors develop a creek. It would’ve made it even harder for the fae to be sneaky. It didn’t matter, because that wasn’t the hard part. The witch descended the ladder, slowly and carefully, too afraid to light the lantern where it could be seen by one of the other hunters. When he reached the bottom, he finally lit the lantern before he unlocked the last two doors that separated him from the King of the Unseelie Court.

The King of the Unseelie Court made an unsettling, yet beautiful sight.

A large cage stood proud in the center of the room; a ring of salt made a boundary line around it. The Unseelie King was chained up inside the cage, its hands bound above its head with only the slightest bit of slack in the chains. An iron collar attached its throat to the bottom of the cage, along with chains around its ankles. Its wings were no longer bound, but the bottom feather looked hacked – someone had clipped them. In the flickering lantern light, with the gold and red blood that coated its skin, it looked feral yet ethereal. It stared directly at Wilbur, one eye shut from the blood, but no less intimidating.

There was no mistaking what court it ruled over. The fae was donned in a bright crimson undershirt, with poet sleeves, and a lacy black vest that still looked nice despite the tears. It had sleek black pants tucked into black boots, and it was covered head to toe in damaged red and purple crystals. It wore no crown, but it was obvious to anyone who looked at it that they gazed upon the King of the Unseelie Court. There was just something in the way that it carried itself that, in the way it looked at you, that made it clear you were beneath it.

The witch stood frozen under his gaze, keenly aware of just how many rules he had broken in that moment. Keenly aware of just how many more rules he was about to break. Wilbur took a deep breath, then slowly made his way closer to the fae. He would be fine, with the cloak, mask, and gloves, not a single sliver of skin was showing. The Unseelie fae wouldn’t have much leverage on Wilbur and wouldn’t be able to gain anyway. So long as kept the rules in mind all the rules of fae etiquette, even the King of the Unseelie Court wouldn’t be able to do anything.

As soon as he stood outside of the salt ring, Wilbur felt himself once again frozen in place. Slowly, he unlocked the cage door with the key, eyes trained on the fae in front of him at all times. The fae watched as well, him with its head slightly tilted like a curious bird. Not that he couldn’t blame the Unseelie fae, he must have made quite the confusing sight all things considered. With only a slight shake in his hands, he slowly reached up to the gag.

“If I remove this gag, you won’t yell or scream or try any enchantments, alright?” Wilbur whispered, “No funny business. Deal?”

The fae huffed out a breath through its nose but nodded.

The air shifted, and Wilbur cringed when he realized what that funny sensation that settled over him was – he had just made a deal.

Wilbur removed the gag and the fae immediately spat, “Ugh. Do you wash your gags? That shit is disgusting!”

“Look, I’m going to heal you, so just keep still” Wilbur asked.

The fae leaned forward slightly, “Oh? Heal me? Let me guess, you want me in tip-top shape before you torture me? Just know that things probably won’t turn out well for you.”

“What? No, no one is torturing you or whatever the fuck you think is going on” Wilbur settled the lantern down, before he rummaged through his supplies.

“Right, right. You’re just a hunter looking out for me because of your sense of altruism” The Unseelie King laughed without humor and looked away.

Wilbur ignored that comment and, with great reluctance, removed his gloves. Afterwards, he dipped a rag in a container he had filled with a mixture of water and vinegar to clean and disinfect the fae’s wounds. He rinsed out the rag of excess liquid, before he started with the fae’s face. The Unseelie King remained silent and unflinching throughout the ordeal, and Wilbur tried not to fidget unnecessarily under its unflinching stare. When he finished with the fae’s face, Wilbur’s face warmed as he realized he would have to undo the fae’s shirt to reach the rest of his injuries.

“Something wrong, healer?” The fae smirked.

“No, nothing” Wilbur rushed out as he raised his hands to proceed, “Just lost in thought.”

“Oh, really?” The fae asked with a suggestive tone, “While looking at my chest?”

“Not like that! This is just… kind of unfamiliar territory for me” Wilbur admitted.

The fae leaned back slightly, “I thought you were a healer?”

“I am! I mean… I just usually only heal my brother… and occasionally my father. This is different” Wilbur explained.

The fae was silent after that, but Wilbur felt the way he stared directly into his soul. He ignored it, the witch had one task, and he would finish it sooner if he stopped conversing with the fae. When he finally finished cleaning the fae’s wounds, he returned to his satchel and browsed through the salves until he found the one he needed. With a little victorious hum, he opened the jar and began to apply the salve to the fae’s wounds.

As soon as his fingers touched the fae’s chest, Wilbur felt something rush through him. A warm and pleasant sensation, that slowly traveled from his fingertips to his arms to his chest. At first Wilbur thought that perhaps the fae had decided to cast his own magic on the witch, but he quickly ruled that out. The feeling didn’t really do anything or make him feel anything other than warm. So, Wilbur chalked it up to the fact that previously the only people he had touched in such a way had been his brother and father. Of course he’d be weird about treating a fae.

“You’re Emerald’s child, aren’t you?”

Wilbur looked up at the fae, “What?”

“You’re Emerald’s child. I noticed you in the window earlier” the fae explained, “I was confused when I saw you at first, then I thought if you were a healer, you were just making a house call. But now I know you’re his son.”

“I have food” Wilbur started as panic began to set in, “And if you want a single bite of it, you have to swear that you will not tell anyone that this happened. You won’t tell anyone I snuck down here. You won’t tell anyone I healed you. You won’t tell anyone I talked to you. And you won’t tell anyone I fed you. Understood?”

“I’ll accept your deal” the fae answered after it mused on it for a bit.

Power settled over Wilbur once more and he sighed, “Good.”

“You’re gentle.”

At Wilbur’s confused hum the fae elaborated, “Your hands are gentle. I hadn’t been expecting that.”

“Oh. Is it bad?” Wilbur asked.

“It’s nice…” the fae sighed.

“Good, that’s good” Wilbur returned to the injury on the fae’s face, “Now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to save your eye.”

“Yeah, I had little hope for that one – one of the hunter’s blessed weapons got me there” the fae slightly leaned into Wilbur’s touch.

Wilbur’s stomach dropped a little, “Which one?”

“I didn’t really notice; I was busy fighting for my life” the fae answered.

Wilbur frowned at that. He wasn’t sure where the sudden pit of guilt inside him had come from, he knew what the weapons he and his mother blessed were for. But to see the results of something that he might have created left a sense of shame and horror. The witch tried to reassure himself as he continued his treatment – the fae were evil, and a little scarring was nothing compared to all the pain and anguish they had caused humanity for centuries. That line of thinking didn’t make it better, though.

Wilbur stepped back when he finished, “I can’t bandage your face without giving everything away, but I can bandage your chest, alright?”

“That should be fine” the fae sighed, “So, what do I call you?”

“I thought I said no funny business” Wilbur commented as he fetched the bandages from his bag.

“I’m not asking for your True Name; I’m asking for your hunter’s alias. I’m assuming everyone in this village has one, since they’re dedicated to the extermination of my kind” the fae shifted so that Wilbur would actually be able to wrap bandages around him, “You’re clearly taking a risk for me. It feels rude to just call you ‘healer’, as if you’re nothing more than that.”

Wilbur paused at that, “Lapis Lazuli. Lapis for short.”

“Lapis. Pretty name” the fae commented, “You can call me Q.”

“Q?”

“A nickname of sorts – a half-fae I know started calling me ‘Big Q’ and it kind of stuck” Q explained, “What pronouns do you use?”

“Pardon?”

“Pronouns – he/him? She/her? They/them? Some combination? Come on, I don’t feel like being a dick to the only person willing to heal me.”

“Oh” Wilbur tried to remember if there was any reason why he shouldn’t reveal that to the fae, “He/him I guess…”

“Alright, same” The Unseelie fae hummed.

Wilbur felt confused. All his life, his father had kept him far away from the fae – for good reason. They were dangerous creatures, and there was no better prize to a fae than a hunter's child. Whether to keep as some kind of sick trophy, or to force into a lifetime of servitude, the fae had a record of seeking out the children of fae hunters more than any other group. Yet Wilbur managed to hold a civil conversation with one, and had touched one without falling to harm. The fae even wanted to go out of its… out of his way to show Wilbur respect, as an acknowledgement of his effort. It went against so much of what the witch had been taught.

“I’m going to be honest, I couldn’t get much in terms of food – it would be too noticeable if suddenly an entire meal worth of food went missing – but I tried to get stuff I heard fae made deals for” Wilbur pulled a jar of different fruits, “I heard fae liked sweet things and fruit.”

“Some fae do. Honey is best, but for fae based on certain animal species fruit can work'' Q explained.

Wilbur looked up at him, “Are you one of them?”

“Anything is better than starving to death” Q replied.

“So that’s a no” Wilbur frowned, though the other couldn’t see.

“I’m a shrike fae – a fae based on a carnivorous species of songbird. But I can eat fruit, and it will provide me with more strength than starving would” Q countered.

Wilbur nodded, “Right. Except that carnivorous fae tend to get stronger from blood, and in order to feed you I’m going to have to put my fingers right in front of your mouth.”

“I won’t bite you” Q said, “At least, not without your permission.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Wilbur backed up a bit, wishing he had brought more than just his boline down with him.

But the fae just laughed a little, “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to add a loophole. I was trying to be flirty. Guess I should have realized it could’ve been taken as a threat.”

“And why would you want to flirt with me?” Wilbur continued.

Check. Mate. The fae could try to use his words to endear himself to Wilbur, but the witch wasn’t fooled. He wasn’t going to free the Unseelie King just because of one flirty remark. And now Q would either admit it or remain silent and refuse to acknowledge the question. Regardless of what he did, Wilbur would be proven right. Maybe he could even use the fact that the fae had tried to manipulate him against him. It could make for some decent leverage.

“You’re fearless” Q started, “Not many people who know as much about the fae as you do would say half the shit you have to a king. You’re kind and gentle. You’re the only one here who hasn’t treated me like a thing. But maybe it’s just the blood loss and iron sickness making me think that flirting is appropriate.”

That hadn’t been what Wilbur had expected. Worse, Wilbur hadn’t predicted that the Q’s words would resonate with him. Still, that didn’t mean anything – fae were well known for how they played with the truth, unable to lie but masters of deception. He didn’t mention that the flirtation had been anything more than just flirting, but that didn’t mean the witch should accept that at face value. Especially when the fae he spoke to was a member of the Unseelie Court. They were far less honorable and far more devious than Seelie fae.

“I’m telling you now, I’m not going to fall for this. I’m not freeing you, you’re not getting out of here” Wilbur snapped.

The fae paused, head cocked and eye bearing right into Wilbur, “Do you think that I am tricking you because I am a fae? Or is it because you can’t imagine I’d be interested in you beyond how you could serve me?”

Wilbur huffed and pulled out an apple slice before he shoved it in front Q’s face. The smile the Unseelie fae gave him was full of haughty amusement, but he refrained from commenting. Instead, he opened his mouth and slowly leaned forward to bite into the apple. The witch realized rather quick that the fae intentionally took slow, small bites out of each piece of fruit. Though he didn’t know if it was because the fae just wanted to draw it out, or if he just wanted to mess with Wilbur a bit. Every time Q’s lips brushed against Wilbur’s fingers, he felt the same warmth return, though it felt slightly more intense.

“That’s the last of the fruit” Wilbur looked away from the fae, “I have an elixir for you to drink as well, then I’ll leave.”

Q nodded, “Alright.”

The witch opened the bottle of medical elixir and raised the bottle to the Unseelie King’s lips. Wilbur tried to keep the bottle from spilling the drink all over the fae, but other than that he just wanted to finish up so he could leave the cellar and never have to think about the fae ever again. The longer he lingered, the higher the chance of him getting caught. As terrified as he was of the fae, Wilbur knew his life would be over if his father caught him anywhere near the cellar, let alone inside and talking with the fae.

As soon as Wilbur was certain he had done everything he could to keep the fae alive – at least through the night – the witch left the cellar and the fae inside.

Next Chapter

#tntduo #quackbur #tntduo fanfic #tntduo fic #burning iron and honey sweet promises

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