#not sure if most of the faes like being harvested like that
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Realized I can design my own critters and add suspicious lore because I can.
Not used to draw stuff like this quite yet but it’s fun !
#Monster boy#character design#monster oc#monster boy oc#bat boys#monster art#heehee I have more critter ideas in stock that will end up here#oh the sweet freedom of experimentation#idk what the honey would be used for itd feel like a waste if it was just spread on toasts#maybe potions or cosmetics and maybe in very expensive cocktails#not sure if most of the faes like being harvested like that
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Yandere!Fairy x Reader
“Ack! You scared me!” you exclaim as Cot suddenly appears in front of your face. His laugh sounds like twinkling bells as he settles himself on your shoulder. “Seriously… How do you keep popping out of nowhere?”
Cot tries to talk to you, he does, but all you hear is the sound of bells as he chatters on. Though you’re insanely curious to know what he’s saying, it looks like you won’t be able to know how he’s able to appear everywhere you are.
With a small huff of laughter, you ruffle his hair with your fingers. “At least give me a warning the next time you appear. I swear you’re going to make me go into cardiac arrest.”
Cot lets out a series of chimes that sound like an apology as he nuzzles your hand. You can’t help but smile – your little fairy friend is adorable.
Your days continue rather peacefully, your most frequent company being Cot. Though you can’t talk to him, just having him around is fun.
On a particularly sunny day, you’re picking strawberries from your garden, which Cot is assisting you with. You thank him as he hands you a glass of water (he’s only a little bigger than the cup, which is such a cute sight). Once you’re done drinking your water, you let out a small sigh of contentment. “Seriously, thanks, Cot. I don’t know how you knew when to appear, but I couldn’t have harvested all these strawberries without you.”
“It’s no problem!”
You freeze, eyes widening. “...Did you just… speak?”
He smiles, eyes twinkling. “Mhm!”
Your mind is unable to process your little fairy friend’s voice, making you stumble over your words. “H–how?!”
With a small hum that sounds like bells, he says, “Hm… I guess you can say that I cast a spell on you!”
(And by spell, he means that he’s slowly given you food from the Fae Realm, eager to whisk you away once you’re more fae than human. But until then, the only real spell he’s cast on you is one that allows him to know exactly where you are. After all, he needs to make sure you’re safe until he can take you to his home.)
#yandere oc#male yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#tsuuper ocs#tw yandere#yandere fairy#yandere male oc#yandere male oc x reader#monster boy oc#yandere monster x reader#Cot Tsuu OC#2024 yan/monstertober tsuutarr#male yandere oc x reader#male yandere oc#monster boyfriend#yandere fairy x reader#so initially Cot sounds like a bunch of bells (think about Tinkerbell from Peter Pan) but u can understand him more the more you become fae#he's so cute and helpful :)#tumblr kills the quality of all images smh my head
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Give ‘em a show
Based on this request.
Pairing: High Lord!Eris x High Lady!Reader
Summary: The autumn court celebrates the equinox with a great rite of their own, what happens when the High Lord finds out Reader left the Forest House in search for him?
Warnings: Smut | minors dni | p in v | reader and Eris are both aroused by a higher power (?) | breeding kink | riding | public sex (on throne) | dirty talk | praise | cream pie | multi-orgasm
A/N: Sorry this took me forever, but I’m really happy with how it turned out so I hope you guys enjoy! 🧡🧡
6.2k words
It was the most festive day of the year in autumn, the equinox. When both night and day are perfectly divided and everything feels at peace. We called it Mabon. The peak of nature's abundance.
The holiday usually entailed freshly harvested crops and feasts to satisfy an entire continent. People gathered to the crop fields and pray, whether it be for good fortune or the wealth of the earth it didn't matter. They honored the soil beneath their feet as much as any other living thing. Similar to Calanmai in the spring there are bonfires in every direction, dancing surrounding the pits.
This was also the day high Fae reinforced the wards around their homes, seeing it as a new beginning.
Some prefer to stay at home and pray to the gods of fire, knelt by the flames that warmed them, having a simple meal of bread and grain. I, however, did not. During the day I'd plant fresh herbs and seeds, placing them in the richest of soils then saying a soft prayer until they began to grow. My harvesting powers have always been my favorite, being able to merely look at a seed and turn it into a blooming flower in the blink of an eye would forever be my favorite party trick.
During the night of Mabon however, I indulged myself in the finest of whiskeys and got drunk as all hel, claiming it was a tradition and a night of commemoration.
"All done?" Eris asked as I came back into the Forest House, my knees covered in dirt from kneeling in the gardens.
"All done." I gave him a small smile and he mirrored it while taking my wide-brimmed sun hat from my head.
"As cute as you look, you need to go change." He hands me the hat and I blink up at him confused. "Or have you forgotten your duties as High Lady?" He arched a manicured brow and I rolled my eyes.
My traditions would be different this year. It was Eris' first year as High Lord, meaning he'd have to put on a show to make sure everyone knew just how powerful he was. Whatever that meant. This also means my job was no longer getting drunk off my face but rather waiting alone in our bedroom where we'd consummate in order to release the power of the High Lord and grace the land with it, allowing harvests and crops to grow until the next Mabon.
"High Lady or not, I'd like to spend my night in a pub with my friends, not some stuffy room with your advisors." I scowl and a smirk tugs at his lips as I drape my hands around his neck.
"A lady of her people." He hums and my grin widens.
"Does that mean you'll let me have my holiday?" I bat my lashes at him.
"I can't," He sighs.
"Eris," I whine. "You're high lord now, fuck me in front of the rest of them for all I care just let me enjoy myself." I plead and he gives me a sorrowful gaze.
"It'll only be a few hours, you'll survive." He placed his hands on my waist and I narrowed my eyes at him.
"But what if you find some other girl on your way to me? I don't like the idea of you roaming this court half naked for just anyone to see, Eris," I dramatically fall into his chest, he tightens his hold on me as if I'm actually going to fall.
"Trust me, all I'll want is you," He guides me back upright so I can stand on my own. "Now go get dressed." His hold on me loosens and I give him the nastiest scowl I can muster.
"Fine, but only because I love you." I excuse as I place the floppy hat atop his head, I think the pink bow brought out his eyes.
"Love you too," He smiles sloppily as I leave his hold, the sun hat remaining on his head as I move away from him, his hand coming down to pat me on the ass, as if encouraging a faster rate, making me toss a glare back at him.
In between now and the beginning of Mabon's night festivities I passed the late afternoon stuck in a meeting room, which was as boring as I thought it was going to be. I spent the entire time drawing the high lord in front of me, making sure to match the glint in his golden eyes to his crown, pure regality as he sat in front of Advisors that used to be in his father's corner.
It's been past an hour, the sun reaching the horizon had told me so, I could already smell the scent of smoke from the bonfires and I knew my time was being wasted. "My lady, are you listening?" I snap to attention, clutching my sketchbook from beneath the table and looking at the male who had snapped his fingers at me, earning a low grumble from Eris as a warning.
"Yes," I answer on instinct.
"Really?" Eris leans forward, muscular forearms resting against the wooden table.
"Mhm." I nod with slightly tinged cheeks, I could never lie to Eris, something about the mating bond, or rather just him, in general, had me somehow giving myself away.
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you Fawn?" He narrows his gaze on me and it takes everything in my power to not give in, tell him that every word since greetings has gone in one ear and out the other. All this information was useless anyway, old rules that Beron followed. Not Eris. I don't understand why my mate entertained these old males.
"You know what?" A bright grin spreads over my features as I stand, my chair pushing back against the floor as everyone looks up at me.
"All of you may take an early holiday, enjoy the night, and spend time with your families." I dismiss and they blink up at me.
"Really?" One of them babbles.
"Yeah, really?" The high lord glared at me and my grin widened.
"Really." I nod.
"With all due respect, you're not one to be giving orders around here." The eldest of them scoffed and my smile faltered, I had never expected to hear that in my own court.
"She's your high lady and you will do as she says. Now go before I change my mind." He shoos the male away. Eris may not have liked me cutting the meeting short but he wasn't going to tolerate any discourtesy against me, it may have been wrong to use it to my advantage but all I wanted to do at the moment was curl up by the fire with a freshly poured glass of wine. Second best to getting hammered at the pubs like I would've been doing this time last year.
"You heard him, go." I make hands that send them away and they all scramble off, shuffling out the door with a haste I haven't seen in a while. I smile softly as the last male disappears.
"You are a cruel female." Eris leans back into his seat at the head of the table. I grab my sketchbook and walk down the long stretch of the meeting hall until I'm right beside him.
"Cruel? Or smart?" I tilt my head as I hoist myself up onto the table in front of him.
"Show me what you were drawing that entire time." He places a ringed finger on the top of my pencil and I flip to the page of his half-shaded figure, flipping around to show the male his unfinished portrait. A satisfied grin spreads over his lips as he sees that he is the subject, but he shouldn't be surprised because he is always the subject.
"Is this whole book me?" He flicks through the pages and I pull back before he can see all the drawings of him I sketched from memory on a particularly desperate night when he was gone on a mission.
"Don't be so full of yourself, I wasn't going to draw any of those old males." I roll my eyes and he chuckles. "Plus I was listening, I could draw you with my eyes closed," I confess and he raises a brow, his lopsided smirk making me feel warm inside. "Now can you please just get this celebration over with then come back to me?" I place the sketchbook beside me and look back at him.
"And what will you do while I'm gone?" He places his hands on my hips, a soft look in his eyes.
"Lots of drinking." I shrug, taking hold of his crown and making it crooked atop his head.
"You're quite the drunk." He grumbles and I chuckle.
"I'm a tavern keeper's daughter, what more do you expect?" I grin innocently and he shakes his head in disbelief.
"Alright, come with me," He slips his hand into mine and guides me out of the meeting room.
I intertwine our fingers, occasionally bumping into him, the comparison of his steady figure, walking with only solid steps and articulated movements contrasted to my bounding, my arm brushing his with every step. It was a silent kind of intimacy, our dynamic.
"This my cell for the night?" I ask as we stop in front of our bedroom, a grand suite that seems more like an apartment.
"Don't act like I'm locking you up," He sighs, crossing his arms.
"You're right, I could easily sneak out," I taunt and he narrows his eyes on me.
"I'm not going to put guards outside these doors, however, if I learn that you've left I will find you," He says, his tone shifting from playful to menacing all in one sentence. "And depending on where you are, I might just fuck you in front of all of them," His words sink to my core, it wasn't much of a warning if it was my idea to begin with.
"Don't threaten me with a good time," I smirk up at him, mirroring his.
"I'll be back for you, soon," He promises, free hand coming to my jaw, the other still preoccupied with mine. His thumb rubbed over my jaw, pressing with a pressure that told me he didn't want to see this room empty when he returned.
"I'll be waiting," I sigh, leaning into his hand. He frowns.
"I'm sorry Fawn, but I doubt I'll be able to control myself with you so near," He shifts back to his usual self, the compassionate one.
"I understand, it's okay," I mumble, even if this was the last place I wanted to be during the holidays. He leans down and presses a yearning kiss onto my lips, the kind full of promise of what was to come later tonight.
He pulls away with a reluctance I immediately recognized. Whatever power that was going to consume him tonight was already forming, I could feel it through the bond like someone on his side of the tether was sparking embers.
"Don't leave this room." He warned one last time and all I could do was nod and then watch him leave.
I had never wanted to leave a room more in my entire life.
Eris forgot to put his shields up on his side of the bond and it was driving me fucking mad. I could feel the power of him, flowing through the very floorboards beneath my feet. His arousal was immense, or perhaps it was mine— I wasn't sure. Maybe being High Lady had its own effects, maybe it made the mated female just as willing to consummate with the High Lord. The intense heat running up and down my spine reminded me of when Eris and I had accepted the mating bond, The Frenzy that took over both of us full throttle, I had managed that because he had been so near at the time, it had only lasted a few moments before he was touching where I needed him most but this, with him so far, gods this was unbearable.
I looked out the window like an animal eagerly waiting for their owner to return, but I couldn't see anything beyond the maple trees, only the smoke of the bonfires and all that promised with it.
I leaned my forehead against the cold window, it relieved me for only a split second before the heat of my body returned.
It started less than an hour ago, bloomed right at my core, and has only grown since. It would reach my head soon and I don't know what I'd do at that point. I had already put the fire in the hearth out but it felt as if I was the furnace and embers were still popping against my bare skin that mistook me for kindling.
I had practically stripped to my socks, but even my undergarments had been too much to bear. I wore a silk slip with a lace trim that was lighter than a feather and softer than anything I had ever felt before but on my burning skin, it felt like a winter coat.
If the window was cold then outside must've been colder, autumn air sweeping over the continent and beckoning at my very window, who was I to keep it out?
I pushed the window open with a grunt in agony, the sweet feeling of the light breeze kissing against my skin practically made me crumble in relief.
I latch the window all the way open and lean my head out the sill, the sound of music and cheering in the distance suddenly became so prominent but it was hard to hear anything over the blood rushing to my ears, dizziness consuming me as I grip the ledge of the window, something buried deep inside of me yearned for him in the direction of the music, and now that my head was out the window my body seemed to think I was teasing it, what it wanted so much closer now that the line to the outside world was crossed, the feeling so intense I thought I might start coughing up blood.
I grunt, attempting to talk myself through the pain, telling myself repeatedly that I've endured worse, that I was stronger this, that Eris would be back any moment now and— and oh gods, Eris. It was a mistake to let him cross my mind because all of a sudden he consumed every thought I could conjure, my mind in his hands and he was gripping it, not willing to let go.
I decided I didn't give a fuck if Eris was mad if I left the house, the pain I was enduring was horrific and the only way to relieve it was to disobey exactly what he ordered me to do. Don't leave this room. I slipped out the window with gasps of pain, landing on the soft grass. I was just grateful to be located on the first floor, close enough to the ground to jump from without shattering the bones in my legs.
Hounds rush up towards me before I can even take my first step.
They looked as if they were about to bark, to alert their owner that I had left the house but they saw my desperation, hel, they probably smelt it.
Rivin, the eldest of the shadow hounds rushed up to me first, staring up at me with a cock of his head, clearly concerned for my well-being. "Can you take me to Eris?" I murmur, praying the dog can understand me, I bring my hand to his snout and he chuffs, licks the palm of my hand then takes off running towards the sounds of the music.
I tried to stay as close as I could to the dog, he had taken the route through trees and behind stands, which I was grateful for since it kept me out of sight, however, it made it a lot easier to lose him amongst the trees. But he always came trotting back after a minute without him in my sights.
Eventually, the dog stopped in his tracks, his front paws prancing at the floor and communicating that he had finished his job. I creased my brows and looked around my surroundings but before I could talk to the dog again he ran off with the rest of his pack, back towards the house.
I had only just realized that whatever heat that was suffocating me in the Forest House had dissipated, still lingering below the surface but no longer unbearable.
I huffed, unsure what to do in the middle of the forest with a feeding wretchedness in the pit of my stomach.
I decided on heading towards where the largest plume of smoke was coming from, I had seen the set up of Mabon hundreds of times and knew this was the way to the throne, knew Eris must be sat upon it.
I hadn't explored Mabon much during previous years, I was always a barmaid for my father's pub, it had gotten crazy business during the week of Mabon so he needed any help he could get, funnily enough, that's how I met Eris.
I shake my head at the memory, thinking about Eris was almost painful, it felt like something was being carved out of me every moment I was without him.
I seethed a string of curses as I continued my trudge through the trees, staying in the shadows and avoiding the eyes of any drunk wanderers. I doubted they'd recognize me as their high lady anyway, Eris was the only one who ever saw me outside of my gowns and robes, this lacy slip was practically lingerie compared to the heavy dresses I often wore.
Lucky for me it had blended in with the other girls perfectly, in fact, I had seemed more covered up than most. Once I had made it out into the open area I spotted Eris immediately. On the throne, as expected, his legs spread wide and I wanted nothing more than to put myself between them.
He was shirtless, forest green paint smeared onto his body in tribal patterns of lines and dots, but he was glistening in sweat, drops running down the side of his face, through the grove of his abdomen. I didn’t want to think about who had the honor of putting that paint into those very groves, I only wanted to think about being the one to wash it off.
Heat pooled in my stomach as his eyes found mine from across the way, my body went rigid as he trekked his gaze down it, then so slowly back up, taking in every bare inch as well as every clothed part of me, like he was wondering just how perfect I looked underneath.
My knees shook as he lifted his hand and with two fingers waved me over. Waves of heat wash over me at every step I take closer, the power that radiated off of him left me defenseless, and the pain I had experienced earlier subsided entirely in favor of morphing into arousal.
Once I reach the dais I curtsy with a playful smile. "I thought I asked you to stay inside?" He purred, his voice rougher than usual, making my legs tremble.
"I missed you," I shrug, attempting to keep my composure but he opened his side of the bond entirely as soon as I was done speaking and my knees buckled. So, much, power.
It surged at my fingertips, blazed down my spine, and coiled in my abdomen. I couldn't imagine how Eris felt if I was only receiving an influence of it.
"C'mere," He lifts his hips, readjusting them in his ornate throne and I almost choke on my own tongue. He was going to push me over that dangerous edge and he didn't even need to say anything to do it.
I take the steps up the dais and I realize the silence in the crowd save for the music, people were watching, and couldn't keep their eyes off of the two of us. The offering between High Lord and Lady, the melding bond between us so clear on a night like this that any outsider could see that golden tether just as well as he or I could.
"On my lap, Fawn," He glances down to his thigh and I swallow thickly. "Oh, don't tell me you've become shy all of the sudden?" He smirks at the idea. I had told him I was willing to let him fuck me in front of all these people— still was, and yet sitting on his lap was the line to the path that I wasn't sure I could come back from.
My coaxing arousal won the battle and I took my final steps toward him, closing that distance, his hand came to the back of my thigh and I nearly melted at his touch, my body quivering in reaction because gods, if I had felt like a kindling fire earlier then he was a fucking inferno.
His fingers singed with flames but I felt none of the added heat as I took my place on his lap, straddling over his thigh and wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him so close I wish I could've melted right into him, slotted myself into each of his grooves and stayed there, impossible to clean, impossible to get rid of.
My lips came to his neck without any forethought, I didn’t have control over my own mind, it was entirely consumed by him, his intoxicating scent of cinnamon, clove, and now an undertone of something different, something just as mouth-watering as the way his hands felt on my bare skin.
I fought the thoughts that told me to rip my dress off and decided to put my hands to better use and rub them down his chest, pressing my palm into his abdomen as I continued kissing his neck. I sucked and licked and nipped without caution, I didn't care if others were watching, he had never been more powerful than he was in this moment, both over others physically and over me mentally.
The domination running through his veins was attractive, so damned powerful and yet he knew how to control it, to conceal it beneath his skin rather than flaunt it, and he shared a fraction of it with me, a simple kernel of it was enough to send me spiraling.
"What are you doing? Dance," Eris spits at his subjects and they immediately do as he says, the music picking up in a crescendo of rushed notes to meet his demand.
I smiled against his shoulder at how much authority he held, my hips involuntarily winding over his thigh and I let out a soft, pleasurable sound. He grunts in return.
"If you keep making those sounds we're not going to make it back to our bedroom," He warns lowly beside my ear and I rut my hips again at the perfect sound.
"I don't know what's wrong— fuck," I'm cut off by my soft moan, his muscled thigh providing just the right amount of friction against my clit. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but I need you to fuck me now," I plead and I sense a sudden change in his demeanor.
"Now?" He hums and I can hear the smirk in his voice. Damned bastard. "In front of all these people?" He intones and I nod helplessly.
"However you want me, wherever, just— gods do it now," I beg, continuing to wind my hips over his thigh.
His foxlike smirk doesn't falter as his hands grip my hips, halting my needy movements only to guide me down onto his thigh himself, my core aching as he does so. I cry out at the feeling, it shouldn't have felt this good, it's never been this intense, even when our mating bond clicked I hadn't been so consumed by his fire that was so dangerously out of control and feeding into my own.
"I need you inside of me," I murmur, coming to the conclusion that this torment will not subside until he finds release inside of me, the mother herself was impelling us to consummate, to breed, and I was more than willing to oblige for her.
"Eris," I grip at his shoulder, paint smearing onto my hands, soiling my nightgown. But I didn't care, any piece of him spreading onto me felt like it was a gift from the gods, and I needed more. "Please, fill me," I beg into the warmth of his neck.
"You want me to come inside you? Want these people to watch while I give you an heir?" He taunts, his words ghosting against the shell of my ear. I reply with a pitiful whimper, unsure what to retort with because he was right. I didn't care who was watching, as long as they knew I was his and he was mine.
"Yes," I pant, my hand coming to the back of his neck. "That's exactly what I want," I plead, the rutting of my hips not slowing for a moment. "Show them I'm yours,"
My words seemed to push him over that fine line and he had obeyed. His rough hands grip my waist, pulling me over his hips so I was no longer straddling his thigh but rather angled just above his cock that was strained in his pants, the confinement so tight it almost seemed painful.
“Yeah?” He hummed and I nodded helplessly. “You want everyone to hear just how pretty your moans are when you’re sitting on my cock?” He asked and I whimpered, feeling powerless under his stare. Whatever heat that had been affecting me tonight had doubled over with his arousing words.
“I can’t be gentle with you right now,” He gritted through clenched teeth, the tip of his nose drawing a line up the side of my throat. “Can’t, control myself right now,” He murmured in warning and I smiled at the idea of having an effect on him as much as he did on me.
“I don’t want control,” I sigh against the side of his neck. “I need you now controlled or not, so please, Eris fuck me,” I begged and with one last kiss to my neck he obliged.
With an expert hand, he tore my underwear right from my hips, pulling the lace off like it was nothing. My heat was now left bare but it didn’t stop me from grinding down onto his bulge. I was staining his pants with my slick, dripping down onto him and he groaned as my wetness seeped through the material.
“Fuck, you’re drenched,” He admired and I nodded with purely innocent eyes, the kind that silently pleaded for him to fill me until he was satiated.
All I felt was hunger, and I could tell by the way flames alighted in his gaze that he felt it too.
Quickly, he removed his leathers and his cock springs up, smacking against my soaked folds, my pussy leaking over his length. The heat between us must’ve been record-breaking, I felt like a candle burning all too fast, making a mess of wax that he was too slow to clean.
The moment I felt his tip prod at my entrance my nails dug into his shoulder. I still didn’t know what it was that was wrong with me, I had never experienced an ache quite like this, the kind that only he could patch over.
“Please,” I cry, my cunt weeping as I crave for him to sink his length into me. “Show them how good you fuck me,” I mewl and perhaps it was the taboo factor of it all, how thrilling it was to have an audience while I rode him, but that had been his breaking point before he gripped the tops of my thighs and pushed me down onto his length.
My breath catches in my throat as I stretch around him, around every inch of him. He was so very large, and on any other night he’d need to fuck me with his fingers first, make sure I was ready for his member without the pain, but tonight we are both so needy that any foreplay was thrown out the window the moment I left our bedroom.
The pain was disguised as pleasure as he helped guide me lower onto him, it hadn’t been unbearable since I was slick with a natural lubricant, my arousal dripping down my thighs and onto his, as I took him deeper and deeper.
I swore he met places he’s never touched before, and fuck was it more than anything I had ever wanted.
This feeling was the god ecstasy prayed to, and I was blessed by it.
“That’s it, just like that, fuck yourself on my cock Fawn,” He encourages and I gasp out my moan, finally reaching his base, pressing against it with mine.
“Your court is watching, give ‘em a show for me,” He purrs, and so I do exactly that.
I begin to lift on his length, my knees buckling at the action but I ignore the pain and favor it for the pleasure as I drop down onto him, wielding gravity as my weapon. He lets out a low grunt and I do it again, continuing the action over and over again, bouncing on his cock just like he asked.
“Fuck, so good for me,” He praised, his eyes blazing with an untamable fire. “Such a good girl,” He sighs, his head craning back, leaning into his golden throne as his hands slip beneath my nightgown.
He didn’t take the dress off, because there were simply just some things he refused to let anyone else see, and though I was getting off on having an audience he wasn’t going to let everyone else get off on it too. He grips my hips tightly from beneath the slip, his callouses scraping against my soft skin, burning it with an unyielding pain, the kind that brings pleasure with it.
His cock seemed just as hot as I continued to fuck myself on it, the vein on the underside pulsing so feverishly I could feel it. The head of him pressed right into that sweet spot and it was a miracle I hadn’t come yet, gods he was going to send me over that edge any second now.
My lips connect with his, and he responds to the familiar feeling on instinct, his tongue slipping beneath my lips and tasting every fraction of me he can get his mouth on.
I moan onto his tongue every time he presses that deep spot inside of me, my noises only adding to the sound of skin slapping and the lewd sound of my pussy taking every inch of him. Our own music drowned out the symphony playing for the others.
“Eris, I can’t,” I pant against his lips. “I’m gonna come,” I warn and he smirks.
“So soon?” He taunts and I nod pitifully, continuing to rut my hips over his.
“Please, it hurts,” I whine, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. And it did hurt, it hurt to not be granted that release I craved so desperately.
“Go ahead, make a mess all over my lap,” He allows and I would’ve wept at the words if my orgasm hadn’t consumed me first.
It felt like pure fire, setting me aflame and impossible to control. It was the kind of climax that lingered for hours on end, the kind that left my legs jolting and my eyes struggling to open. I let out a loud moan, so loud that if the dancing fae hadn’t known what had been happening, they did now. “You did so well baby,” He hums as I slowly come down from my high but I don’t have the strength to lift off his cock, and I definitely didn’t have the willpower to continue my movements. My thighs were burning and I hadn’t noticed until my climax settled.
“You done?” He coos and I nod, but the tone of his voice tells me it is him who is nowhere near finished with me, his member still hard inside of me evidence of that.
He didn’t warn me before he winnowed us back to the Forest House, the same position except he was no longer sitting on the throne but rather our bed.
I whine, falling limp against his shoulder. “I can’t take anymore, Eris,” I sigh and he shakes his head.
“Oh, no baby you said you wanted an heir and I’m going to give one to you.” He flipped us over so I was splayed out on my back, sinking into the mattress with my legs hooked around him.
“Eris I’m not on a tonic— fuck,” I try but he felt so much deeper in this position.
“Does it feel like I care?” He sighs into my hair and I shake my head no. “That’s right, now be a good girl and stay true to your word,” He demanded and I swallowed thickly, nodding while he lifted one of my legs up to hook on his shoulder, spreading my legs wide as I clamped down onto him.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this pretty pussy, squeezing me so tight,” He grunted and I lost all cohesive thoughts, strings of moans escaped me as he rolled his hips down onto mine, his full balls slapping against my folds as his pace quickened.
“More,” I plead.
“Yeah? You want me to fill you don’t you?” He says and I was quick to show my agreement by squeezing around him tighter. “You just can’t wait to have my babes, isn’t that right?” He grunted into the shell of my ear and I nodded with a hum of restless accord. “Your tits are gonna be so fucking swollen,” He sighs and I clench around him at his dirty words. “You like that?” He kisses up my neck.
“Mhm, want your seed in me, Eris,” I whine and he twitches, a sign he’s nearing his climax.
I was hungry for his warm release, ached for it to fill my every crevice, let it seep into my womb.
I met his thrusts with my own sudden desire, sending my hips down onto him while he drove his cock right into that spongy bundle of nerves.
“I’m close,” He grunts.
“Me too,” I whimper, my legs locking up as my orgasm races to meet me.
My hands go into his hair and I pull at his short locks as my second climax finds me and I’m squeezing around him tighter than ever before. My walls flutter around him, and my pussy twitched as he continues his fast pace. He groans at the intense convulsions around him and suddenly his release is spurring out into me, kissing my cervix as he does so, his seed shooting out on a straight path to my womb.
“Fuck,” He sighed while guiding my leg down from his shoulder, and with a few more languid, slow strokes of his cock he finishes, slipping from my heat and falling down onto the bed beside me, both of us out of breath and settling over the action we had just committed to.
I clench my thighs shut, keeping his warm seed nestled inside of me. “Good?” I ask and he flips onto his side, arm slinging over my sweat-slicked body, pulling me into him.
“So good.” He presses kisses to the top of my head and I flip around to face him, my eyes heavy with exhaustion.
“I think I like this High Lord stuff,” I say, my hand coming to his cheek and he chuckles, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.
“I think so too,” He whispered against my mouth, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” He sat up, pulling me with him and I groaned. “You can sleep after, I promise, Fawn,” He said with a gentle tone that rivaled his earlier rough grunts.
“Eris please, just lay with me for a few more minutes,” I huff stubbornly and he shakes his head, hauling me from the bed and taking me to the connected bathroom.
“I’ll lay by you all night after I clean you up. Sound like a deal?” He says, settling me down onto the cold counter that sent shivers up my spine and I lazily nodded, looking up at him. He grins and leans closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I love you,” He whispers and I match his smile.
“Love you too, Eris.” I look up at him with only honesty in my gaze. “Now hurry up, I’m tired,” I grumbled and he chuckled.
“Alright, alright.” He shakes his head in disbelief, wetting a cloth with warm water before beginning to clean me up, treating me with utter tenderness after he gave me the two best orgasms of my life. This male was going to be the death of me, and I was going to love every moment of it until that day.
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Heart of the Fae Chapter 1: The Forest
Summary: The forest is full of mythical creatures, and you unwisely trespass on their territory. What happens when you become the ward of a handsome, blond, high Fae?
Pairing: Fae! Nanami Kento x Fem! reader
A/N: Here's chapter 1 of my collab with @actuallysaiyan who made the story banner as well! This took a lot of time and effort between both of us, so we hope you all like what we've done here! Reader-centric chapters were written by Actuallysaiyan and Nanami-centric chapters (coming up) will be written by me. Please note we are posting the same chapters on each other's blogs separately, so please do not get confused if you see these posts twice. Enjoy!
Follow Along: use #heartofthefae and #veeandbaconwrite to track the story.
Teaser | Nanami masterlist
The forest always called you, its depths mysterious and igniting curiosity as you hear the alluring rustle of the leaves. Cool shade and soft breezes seemed to constantly sweep over you, pulling you into the lush greenness, tempting you to explore the path unknown.
There was a constant string of warnings being hissed into your ear.
“Do not wander too deep into the woods. There are tales of young maidens such as yourself being consumed by the forest. Being taken away by beings that we humans cannot comprehend.”
“Do not follow the stray lights you see hiding in the trees. They will lead you off the path, and when they are sure no one can hear you, will suck the life essence out of your marrow and leave you hollow.”
“Do not listen to voices being spoken by unseen lips. They will whisper words sweeter than a mother’s lullaby sung to her babe, before they turn into the shriek of an animal and devour you whole.”
Despite the warnings, despite the promise you gave your mother when she was on her deathbed all those years ago, you couldn’t help yourself. The forest never felt like the monstrous place people made it seem to be. It was there in your sorrow, it provided the rivers and the water you drank, the readily available game that kept your belly full, and the sweet treats of the tart raspberries and honey carefully harvested by your skilled hands. How could anything so nurturing, so pure, mean you any harm?
One day, you forget the warnings, the whispers, the talk of how most unexplained disappearances occurred when one stepped off the marked trails in the forest and find out that there was some truth in the cautionary tales the villagers uttered, even if they were only partially correct.
Your eyes squinted as you tried to see against the glaring sunlight. It was a bright morning, streaks of blinding sun peeking through the gaps between the leaves. You had paused, almost certain you had heard voices. You couldn’t remember how far you had come away from the manmade paths of safety, only that dawn had just started to peek its head over the horizon when you began. Irregular little flashes of light zig-zagged over your head, too radiant to be a hummingbird, the movements almost liquidy, like lava made gold, seemingly having no specific direction to go.
You had tracked them, your pack weighing down on your back, hypnotized at the idea of what they could be, going further into the forest, the trees becoming progressively more wilder and gnarled, bunching up together so closely that in some areas you had to find a way to squeeze through the thick trunks. And then it had opened up; the trees gave way to flat land, a clearing, no, a village, little cottages standing in neat rows for what seemed like miles.
Curiously, you wander towards them, adjusting the pack now starting to grow heavy on your shoulders before spotting a woman hanging out her clothes to dry on a line. As you approach, your pace slows as you see she had the general shape of a human, but her ears…strangely pointed and large…then as the being turned around, you clasp a hand over your mouth.
She had wings.
She was no human. Fairies. The tales the villagers used to say were true, that Fae lived in these woods. Your wonder grew as you watched her walk back into her cottage, unaware that you had been observing her.
You notice a few of the Fae watching you from their spots in the village. One of them leans in to whisper in the other’s ear, and you begin to feel nervous. After all the warnings and the things you had heard, it was actually real. You had always wondered why people had such strong feelings about the forest, and you could now see why.
“Are you lost?” you hear a small voice asking you. You look down to see a sweet little girl standing there. Her eyes are so friendly and welcoming. She’s got the most cherubic face you’ve ever seen.
“I-I guess I am.”
“Come with me.”
You decide to follow her as she leads you further into the village. Your eyes wander as you take in everything. The homes and buildings all have a mystical air to them, but there’s also something royal about it. Something regal and fancy.
Before you even have the chance to look around the little girl’s parents are calling her over. She looks around nervously before she heads towards them. It has become very clear that you are an outsider. You knew the risk of venturing into the forest, but something about this makes you feel so uneasy.
“Halt!” You hear a deep voice calling. You look over your shoulder to see a fairy in armor.
“You aren’t one of us,” he states, grabbing your hand.
“Let go of me!” You try to struggle free, but he’s not letting you go.
He looks at you with narrowed eyes, studying your features. He realizes very quickly that you aren’t a fae at all. He knew it from the start, but he had his doubts about you being human. Most humans don’t make it this far into the forest, so the guard had wondered if maybe you were another mystical creature.
“Don’t fight me on this.” He leans in to tower over you. “If you aren’t a fairy, you have no business here. Who let you in?”
You shake your head, “Nobody ‘let me in’. I just found this place by myself.”
He looks shocked. “That’s…that’s unheard of. It’s been centuries since any human has—no, I won’t settle for this.”
You squirm in his grasp. His tight hold was beginning to hurt you, and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. Was this going to be trouble for you? Should you have just ignored your instincts?
“Just stop fighting me. You need to see the king. You have no choice.” He explains it to you. “Only the king can decide your fate now.”
He explains to you that you have no choice but to follow him. He’s going to be bringing you to see the king. You swallow hard as you seem to understand what your curious nature has gotten you into.
Everything inside the king’s court is unbelievably magnificent. The candelabras are ornate, Phthalo, and gold in color. The flames are almost unreal. The rest of the decorations mimic the colors and appear like it’s bathed in a mystical glow. Your eyes take in every single detail as you make your way towards court.
Two wide doors are flung open and you notice very few people in the room. The king, a broad and big man, sits on his green throne. He carries himself proudly, and with his long, luscious blond hair and deep brown eyes, you can see he is the picture of a regal man. He smiles at you softly, though you can see that he is trying to keep himself more neutral than the rest of the court.
His eyes are alight with curiosity as you make your way forward. You slowly approach him, observing the kind look on his face, though it does nothing to ease your nerves. Beside him sits a woman who has an icy look to her. Her eyes are like a pair of sapphires like someone plucked the most precious stars from the sky and placed them in her head. The tiara that sits upon her beautifully coiffed hair suggests she’s the queen.
You keep your head bowed. Seated off-center from the king is a man who exuded a warm, kind, personality, his hazel eyes shimmering with curiosity. He holds a smile that suggests he would be the type of person you could whisper secrets to and he’d never tell another soul. He seemed to be eyeing you, displaying a sincere smile. His physique is tall and broad, his golden locks neatly parted and falling pleasingly at the edges of his face.
“State your business, young human.” The king says.
Sitting on either side the king and the queen is a panel of high Fae. One of them in particular shares a striking resemblance to the queen. His snow-white hair and brilliant blue eyes make you feel so inadequate, standing like a commoner in front of the regal-looking court. He smiles at you, but it leaves you feeling cold. Looking into his eyes is like looking into an infinite void that you could so easily lose yourself to. It’s almost like he can tell you’re nervous so you look away.
“I…I am sorry for intruding. I got lost as I walked into the forest.”
The king motions to the pack on your back, “And you don’t suppose you might have been looking for us?”
You try not to get flustered. “Not intentionally. W-well…I can’t say I wasn’t curious. I have heard stories about your people.”
There’s a bit of chatter as you explain yourself. You notice the man with the hazel eyes is smiling at you.
“It has been said that humans are quite curious by nature. But let it be known that your kind isn’t welcome here. We have set boundaries and traps to keep humans out of here.” The king sighs. Then he takes a second to mull over the information. “I suppose you’re not really at fault considering you found us by accident.”
The queen leans in to whisper in his ear, and the king frowns as he considers her words. He thinks about it for a bit. A few more of the Fae chime in, but you can’t make out what they are saying. The king listens to his court before continuing.
“However, we cannot allow you to remain here. This is our sanctuary and humans aren’t welcome here. We’ll have to take precautions if we are to send you back since we can’t let you leave with knowledge of our location and existence.”
“Come here,” the queen beckons, and you know better than to disobey. Once you’re in front of her, she snaps her fingers and another fairy comes to her side. They exchange words you can’t quite make out either. Then the second fairy, an older man with graying hair, comes closer to you. He presses his fingers to your temples, making you shiver at his touch. His eyes are golden and sunny.
“Just relax, okay?”
You nod your head before you start to feel a strange tugging sensation in your mind. It’s almost like someone is going through your memories and trying to erase the ones that you’ve recently made from discovering this place. Your eyes close involuntarily, and your breathing becomes a bit more shallow. Your heart pounds in your chest as the sensations get more intense. Then suddenly, everything stops.
Muttering fills the court. The elderly Fae looks puzzled as he peers into your face. “I’m sorry. I have never had anything like this happen,” he explains. “She was supposed to forget everything she saw after coming here.”
The queen scowls at him, “Are you saying you cannot perform this simple task?”
He shakes his head, “As strange as it is, no I cannot. I won’t be able to perform this on her.”
More chatter erupts in the throne room. No human has ever withstood the memory charm. This would be the first time in history that a human was able to deflect such a powerful spell. All eyes are on you, and you can’t help but look away from the crowd.
“Silence! She will have to stay until we find another method.” The king then looks at you, “Let’s hope someone from this court is kind enough to take you in. You’ll need shelter for the time being. Perhaps…you?” The king points to another one of the Fae of the court.
“N-no, I couldn’t. My wife is with child,”
The king sighs. “I need a volunteer. Please, we need someone to shelter this human.”
Another Fae pipes up, “Couldn’t we just maybe—”
The queen says, “No, no human in the dungeons. That’s reserved for prisoners.”
The beautiful amber-eyed Fae looks at you and he feels his heart thumping hard in his chest. He raises his hand and the king spots him.
“I will shelter her. I can do this.” He speaks so eloquently. The king cocks an eyebrow, “Are you sure? We could find someone else to–”
The blond Fae speaks up again, “It’s fine, uncle. I promise I can accept this.”
The king thinks about it for a moment, then he faces you again. He knows that you could be some sort of spy that could ruin you all, but when he looks into your eyes he sees this curiosity that isn’t any sort of malice. He finally nods his head.
“You should be grateful that my nephew has a heart. Then it’s settled, you will stay with him.”
You all look towards the man who was smiling at you earlier. The man blushes and looks away shyly. Your heart races when you look at how adorable he is from being so flustered. You feel a blush creeping up on your own cheeks. The king notices everything, but keeps his face impassive. The thought of his nephew taking in a human does not bode well with him. Despite this, the choice has been made and there aren’t many others who have volunteered for your cause.
The king smirks, though he does well to hide it. He then leans over to consult with his wife. She looks at you, then at the man. He approaches you slowly, considering all the options at play here. Then he extends his hand out to you, and you shake it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Kento,” He brings your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss on it.
“F/n L/n,” you offer a hasty introduction. “The pleasure is all mine,” the words flow from your lips. You surprise yourself at how charming you can be at this moment.
The king’s voice fills the room, “Are you sure this is what you want, Kento? You could have someone else house this young lady.”
Kento shakes his head no, his beautiful locks swaying as he does so. “It’s no trouble at all.”
“Then it’s settled. You can stay with my nephew.”
You look over at Kento, and though you have just met him, there is something so comforting about his presence. Was he really the king’s nephew? He takes your hand and guides you outside of the court. You notice a few Fae from the court following you. The tall, lean Fae with the piercing blue eyes seems to have become interested in the matter. He smirks at you and at Kento, elbowing your company in the side.
“Ahhh, so the spring Duke has his pick of the litter, hm? The first human in centuries and you get to lay claim to her?” He pokes fun at Kento.
Kento frowns. “This isn’t what this is about. She needs somewhere safe to stay. It’s not like you were jumping up at the opportunity to let her stay with you.”
The other Fae ignores him and he smiles at you, “I’m Satoru by the way. Kento here pretends he has manners, but really I’m the one you should be staying with.”
“Your kind isn’t in court right now. Just because you happen to be a distant cousin to the queen doesn’t mean you have any right to lay claim on someone. Besides, this isn’t for your own personal greed. She needs our help.” Kento explains, pressing his hand on your side to keep you behind him.
Satoru laughs sarcastically, “So what happens when winter rolls around? You just going to pass her off like some ragdoll? What happens when the spring is gone and your family has to resign their ruling for the next court?”
This causes Kento to emit a low growling noise causing Satoru’s eyes to widen and then suddenly he begins to laugh. Kento almost seems like a guard dog about to attack. The hair on the back of his neck is standing on end.
“Come on, Kentooo, I’m only joking.” Satoru teases once more.
“It’s not funny. Now if you’ll excuse us…”
And with that, Kento pulls you closer to him and he begins to lead you towards his quarters.
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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Heart of the Fae- Chapter One: The Forest
warnings: mythical creatures? The fae pairings: Fae!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader word count: 2.7k summary: you enter the forest that everyone has always warned you about and you find yourself in a new, mystical land. except it's always existed and you're the first human in centuries...or so they say. a/n: This is a collaboration between me and @seireiteihellbutterfly! We hope you enjoy! Dividers by the lovely @benkeibear and banner by me.
Taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento @adharadotcom (Please let me know if you'd like to opt out or join in!)
Masterlist
The forest always called you, its depths mysterious and igniting curiosity as you hear the alluring rustle of the leaves. Cool shade and soft breezes seemed to constantly sweep over you, pulling you into the lush greenness, tempting you to explore the path unknown.
There was a constant string of warnings being hissed into your ear.
“Do not wander too deep into the woods. There are tales of young maidens such as yourself being consumed by the forest. Being taken away by beings that we humans cannot comprehend.”
“Do not follow the stray lights you see hiding in the trees. They will lead you off the path, and when they are sure no one can hear you, will suck the life essence out of your marrow and leave you hollow.”
“Do not listen to voices being spoken by unseen lips. They will whisper words sweeter than a mother’s lullaby sung to her babe, before they turn into the shriek of an animal and devour you whole.”
Despite the warnings, despite the promise you gave your mother when she was on her deathbed all those years ago, you couldn’t help yourself. The forest never felt like the monstrous place people made it seem to be. It was there in your sorrow, it provided the rivers and the water you drank, the readily available game that kept your belly full, and the sweet treats of the tart raspberries and honey carefully harvested by your skilled hands. How could anything so nurturing, so pure, mean you any harm?
One day, you forget the warnings, the whispers, the talk of how most unexplained disappearances occurred when one stepped off the marked trails in the forest and find out that there was some truth in the cautionary tales the villagers uttered, even if they were only partially correct.
Your eyes squinted as you tried to see against the glaring sunlight. It was a bright morning, streaks of blinding sun peeking through the gaps between the leaves. You had paused, almost certain you had heard voices. You couldn’t remember how far you had come away from the manmade paths of safety, only that dawn had just started to peek its head over the horizon when you began. Irregular little flashes of light zig-zagged over your head, too radiant to be a hummingbird, the movements almost liquidy, like lava made gold, seemingly having no specific direction to go.
You had tracked them, your pack weighing down on your back, hypnotized at the idea of what they could be, going further into the forest, the trees becoming progressively more wilder and gnarled, bunching up together so closely that in some areas you had to find a way to squeeze through the thick trunks. And then it had opened up; the trees gave way to flat land, a clearing, no, a village, little cottages standing in neat rows for what seemed like miles.
Curiously, you wander towards them, adjusting the pack now starting to grow heavy on your shoulders before spotting a woman hanging out her clothes to dry on a line. As you approach, your pace slows as you see she had the general shape of a human, but her ears…strangely pointed and large…then as the being turned around, you clasp a hand over your mouth.
She had wings.
She was no human. Fairies. The tales the villagers used to say were true, that Fae lived in these woods. Your wonder grew as you watched her walk back into her cottage, unaware that you had been observing her.
You notice a few of the Fae watching you from their spots in the village. One of them leans in to whisper in the other’s ear, and you begin to feel nervous. After all the warnings and the things you had heard, it was actually real. You had always wondered why people had such strong feelings about the forest, and you could now see why.
“Are you lost?” you hear a small voice asking you. You look down to see a sweet little girl standing there. Her eyes are so friendly and welcoming. She’s got the most cherubic face you’ve ever seen.
“I-I guess I am.”
“Come with me.”
You decide to follow her as she leads you further into the village. Your eyes wander as you take in everything. The homes and buildings all have a mystical air to them, but there’s also something royal about it. Something regal and fancy.
Before you even have the chance to look around the little girl’s parents are calling her over. She looks around nervously before she heads towards them. It has become very clear that you are an outsider. You knew the risk of venturing into the forest, but something about this makes you feel so uneasy.
“Halt!” You hear a deep voice calling. You look over your shoulder to see a fairy in armor.
“You aren’t one of us,” he states, grabbing your hand.
“Let go of me!” You try to struggle free, but he’s not letting you go.
He looks at you with narrowed eyes, studying your features. He realizes very quickly that you aren’t a fae at all. He knew it from the start, but he had his doubts about you being human. Most humans don’t make it this far into the forest, so the guard had wondered if maybe you were another mystical creature.
“Don’t fight me on this.” He leans in to tower over you. “If you aren’t a fairy, you have no business here. Who let you in?”
You shake your head, “Nobody ‘let me in’. I just found this place by myself.”
He looks shocked. “That’s…that’s unheard of. It’s been centuries since any human has—no, I won’t settle for this.”
You squirm in his grasp. His tight hold was beginning to hurt you, and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. Was this going to be trouble for you? Should you have just ignored your instincts?
“Just stop fighting me. You need to see the king. You have no choice.” He explains it to you. “Only the king can decide your fate now.”
He explains to you that you have no choice but to follow him. He’s going to be bringing you to see the king. You swallow hard as you seem to understand what your curious nature has gotten you into.
Everything inside the king’s court is unbelievably magnificent. The candelabras are ornate, Phthalo, and gold in color. The flames are almost unreal. The rest of the decorations mimic the colors and appear like it’s bathed in a mystical glow. Your eyes take in every single detail as you make your way towards court.
Two wide doors are flung open and you notice very few people in the room. The king, a broad and big man, sits on his green throne. He carries himself proudly, and with his long, luscious blond hair and deep brown eyes, you can see he is the picture of a regal man. He smiles at you softly, though you can see that he is trying to keep himself more neutral than the rest of the court.
His eyes are alight with curiosity as you make your way forward. You slowly approach him, observing the kind look on his face, though it does nothing to ease your nerves. Beside him sits a woman who has an icy look to her. Her eyes are like a pair of sapphires like someone plucked the most precious stars from the sky and placed them in her head. The tiara that sits upon her beautifully coiffed hair suggests she’s the queen.
You keep your head bowed. Seated off-center from the king is a man who exuded a warm, kind, personality, his hazel eyes shimmering with curiosity. He holds a smile that suggests he would be the type of person you could whisper secrets to and he’d never tell another soul. He seemed to be eyeing you, displaying a sincere smile. His physique is tall and broad, his golden locks neatly parted and falling pleasingly at the edges of his face.
“State your business, young human.” The king says.
Sitting on either side the king and the queen is a panel of high Fae. One of them in particular shares a striking resemblance to the queen. His snow-white hair and brilliant blue eyes make you feel so inadequate, standing like a commoner in front of the regal-looking court. He smiles at you, but it leaves you feeling cold. Looking into his eyes is like looking into an infinite void that you could so easily lose yourself to. It’s almost like he can tell you’re nervous so you look away.
“I…I am sorry for intruding. I got lost as I walked into the forest.”
The king motions to the pack on your back, “And you don’t suppose you might have been looking for us?”
You try not to get flustered. “Not intentionally. W-well…I can’t say I wasn’t curious. I have heard stories about your people.”
There’s a bit of chatter as you explain yourself. You notice the man with the hazel eyes is smiling at you.
“It has been said that humans are quite curious by nature. But let it be known that your kind isn’t welcome here. We have set boundaries and traps to keep humans out of here.” The king sighs. Then he takes a second to mull over the information. “I suppose you’re not really at fault considering you found us by accident.”
The queen leans in to whisper in his ear, and the king frowns as he considers her words. He thinks about it for a bit. A few more of the Fae chime in, but you can’t make out what they are saying. The king listens to his court before continuing.
“However, we cannot allow you to remain here. This is our sanctuary and humans aren’t welcome here. We’ll have to take precautions if we are to send you back since we can’t let you leave with knowledge of our location and existence.”
“Come here,” the queen beckons, and you know better than to disobey. Once you’re in front of her, she snaps her fingers and another fairy comes to her side. They exchange words you can’t quite make out either. Then the second fairy, an older man with graying hair, comes closer to you. He presses his fingers to your temples, making you shiver at his touch. His eyes are golden and sunny.
“Just relax, okay?”
You nod your head before you start to feel a strange tugging sensation in your mind. It’s almost like someone is going through your memories and trying to erase the ones that you’ve recently made from discovering this place. Your eyes close involuntarily, and your breathing becomes a bit more shallow. Your heart pounds in your chest as the sensations get more intense. Then suddenly, everything stops.
Muttering fills the court. The elderly Fae looks puzzled as he peers into your face. “I’m sorry. I have never had anything like this happen,” he explains. “She was supposed to forget everything she saw after coming here.”
The queen scowls at him, “Are you saying you cannot perform this simple task?”
He shakes his head, “As strange as it is, no I cannot. I won’t be able to perform this on her.”
More chatter erupts in the throne room. No human has ever withstood the memory charm. This would be the first time in history that a human was able to deflect such a powerful spell. All eyes are on you, and you can’t help but look away from the crowd.
“Silence! She will have to stay until we find another method.” The king then looks at you, “Let’s hope someone from this court is kind enough to take you in. You’ll need shelter for the time being. Perhaps…you?” The king points to another one of the Fae of the court.
“N-no, I couldn’t. My wife is with child,”
The king sighs. “I need a volunteer. Please, we need someone to shelter this human.”
Another Fae pipes up, “Couldn’t we just maybe—”
The queen says, “No, no human in the dungeons. That’s reserved for prisoners.”
The beautiful amber-eyed Fae looks at you and he feels his heart thumping hard in his chest. He raises his hand and the king spots him.
“I will shelter her. I can do this.” He speaks so eloquently. The king cocks an eyebrow, “Are you sure? We could find someone else to–”
The blond Fae speaks up again, “It’s fine, uncle. I promise I can accept this.”
The king thinks about it for a moment, then he faces you again. He knows that you could be some sort of spy that could ruin you all, but when he looks into your eyes he sees this curiosity that isn’t any sort of malice. He finally nods his head.
“You should be grateful that my nephew has a heart. Then it’s settled, you will stay with him.”
You all look towards the man who was smiling at you earlier. The man blushes and looks away shyly. Your heart races when you look at how adorable he is from being so flustered. You feel a blush creeping up on your own cheeks. The king notices everything, but keeps his face impassive. The thought of his nephew taking in a human does not bode well with him. Despite this, the choice has been made and there aren’t many others who have volunteered for your cause.
The king smirks, though he does well to hide it. He then leans over to consult with his wife. She looks at you, then at the man. He approaches you slowly, considering all the options at play here. Then he extends his hand out to you, and you shake it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Kento,” He brings your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss on it.
“F/n L/n,” you offer a hasty introduction. “The pleasure is all mine,” the words flow from your lips. You surprise yourself at how charming you can be at this moment.
The king’s voice fills the room, “Are you sure this is what you want, Kento? You could have someone else house this young lady.”
Kento shakes his head no, his beautiful locks swaying as he does so. “It’s no trouble at all.”
“Then it’s settled. You can stay with my nephew.”
You look over at Kento, and though you have just met him, there is something so comforting about his presence. Was he really the king’s nephew? He takes your hand and guides you outside of the court. You notice a few Fae from the court following you. The tall, lean Fae with the piercing blue eyes seems to have become interested in the matter. He smirks at you and at Kento, elbowing your company in the side.
“Ahhh, so the spring Duke has his pick of the litter, hm? The first human in centuries and you get to lay claim to her?” He pokes fun at Kento.
Kento frowns. “This isn’t what this is about. She needs somewhere safe to stay. It’s not like you were jumping up at the opportunity to let her stay with you.”
The other Fae ignores him and he smiles at you, “I’m Satoru by the way. Kento here pretends he has manners, but really I’m the one you should be staying with.”
“Your kind isn’t in court right now. Just because you happen to be a distant cousin to the queen doesn’t mean you have any right to lay claim on someone. Besides, this isn’t for your own personal greed. She needs our help.” Kento explains, pressing his hand on your side to keep you behind him.
Satoru laughs sarcastically, “So what happens when winter rolls around? You just going to pass her off like some ragdoll? What happens when the spring is gone and your family has to resign their ruling for the next court?”
This causes Kento to emit a low growling noise causing Satoru’s eyes to widen and then suddenly he begins to laugh. Kento almost seems like a guard dog about to attack. The hair on the back of his neck is standing on end.
“Come on, Kentooo, I’m only joking.” Satoru teases once more.
“It’s not funny. Now if you’ll excuse us…”
And with that, Kento pulls you closer to him and he begins to lead you towards his quarters.
#bacon.writes#nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x y/n#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#fae!nanami#fairy au#jjk au#jujutsu kaisen au#vee and bacon write#heart of the fae
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ꔫ L'autunno.
☆ Ch: 3 [last page] [next page]
-> Pairing: Eris x ballet dancer!fem!reader.
-> (CW): x fem!reader (she/her), slow-burn, rivals to lovers, tinkle of angst on occasion, fluff, non-specified identity Summer Court!reader, regarding canon ACOTAR time: after defeat of Hybern.
-> (TW): uhm, some slight simmering sexual tension, ig? your first fight w daddy (jk. ur just a bit of a meanie in this chapter i'm afraid), Eris Vanserra is a mumma's boy bc i said so, thank u & good night.
W/C: 3.6 k
╰┈➤ Lex's note: I am SO SO SORRY THAT THIS IS SO LATE EVERYONE!! i've had assignment after assignment after assignment for the last 4 weeks on each friday [which is when i usually write 😵💫] I'm posting ch 3 tonight, but i'll have ch 4 and maybe 5 ready tomorrow!!
It had now been three days since receiving the news that you’d be performing for the Vanserra family personally. In that time, you had also discovered a few prominent things to note: the potential financial ruin that would befall the old dance studio if its debts weren’t repaid in time; that Eris Vanserra was a snide, egocentric prick who seemed to like watching you dance an awful amount, and that Eris Vanserra’s personal scent was of smoky woodfire, with a subtle hint of maple- a combination that made your stomach lurch. That last bit was information you were sure you could live without, but from when you two had ‘spoken’ in the hallway of the studio after the raspberry coulis debacle, it lingered in your nose and messed with your head.
It was the fourth day of practice- three days ‘till the Autumn Equinox- so as any normal girl did, you were trying to find reasons not to attend the Equinox, and not to attend the ball afterwards on Eris’ arm. Today to your dismay, he had requested time with you personally, and you were highly suspicious. However, your motherly confidants weren’t hearing a word of it.
“Think of the opportunities, petal! You will have a chance to wear some of the most beautiful dresses in all of the Autumn Court- perhaps all of Prythian! Everyone will be having their sights set on the Equinox in place of Calanmai, so you will be a star!” Primrose gushed, clapping her hands and pressing them together as she swooned- the pot plants to her left accelerating in growth, their blossoms procuring the most vibrant coloured flowers, feeding on her magic as the Spring Court native expressed her excitement.
“If [Y/N] wanted to be a star, she’d go to the Night Court and rendezvous with the lordling there. But she’s not.” Ordelia interjected her wife’s exclamations with a slight frown, taking a brush to your locks as you sat on the floor in front of the fae female. “You cannot possibly try to avoid it now- this would be a wonderful time to show Eris that you are skilled with your body and your mind. Indulge the boy in his dances, let him crow about his achievements, then confront him on what they are doing in the harvest quarter. The cul-de-sacs and the complexes are being raided almost weekly.” She encouraged firmly, wanting you to push forward with bringing up the topic of concern to the lordling. You winced slightly as she raked the brush through your hair as she spoke, yet you let her style your hair neatly.
“This is a chance for you two to discuss important topics, [Y/N]. Ignore the tabloids, and the gossips. You will be with the heir to the Autumn Court- the opportunity to hold his family accountable is staring you blank in the face!”
You sighed, fiddling with some loose fabric on the long, loose sleeve of your blouse. “Even if I were to talk to him, I highly doubt he has the capacity to process what I want to discuss. Besides, this feels stupid- why does he need to spend a whole day with me anyway?”
“Well it would make sense! You’ll be on his arm the night of the actual Equinox- he ought to make sure he knows who he’s dealing with.” Primrose advised helpfully, Ordelia nodding contemplatively behind you, “He might be wanting to look out for your best interests and warn you in advance about Beron.”
Ah, yeah. That tyrant. The arsehole who wrongfully increased the land taxes despite the land being on its last limb during Amarantha’s ‘blight’, merely to make his people work harder with no time for mourning or celebrating. The bastard who is not-so-sneakily declaring an exodus on non-Autumn fae, making every step you took a more calculated one when you’d walk to and from the studio.
After the protests in the streets recently, Primrose stopped sitting on her balcony to watch the sunset, and now Ordelia mostly runs the errands. You’ve been staying over at theirs a lot more too- not feeling comfortable in your own apartment, staring at the certificates recognising your creative and academic ability, thus granting you these pleasures. Not with the small Summer Court trinkets on your shelves despite living in the Autumn Court apartment. You didn’t even feel like a true fae. You felt foreign- like that human girl who was living in the Spring Court all that time. A small part of you wondered if she’d understand these troubles in the human lands too.
You had zoned out, and they both seemed to catch on to the way you went deathly still. Primrose warmed your hands with hers as she pulled you to stand, embracing you. “It will be alright, my petal. Don’t you worry your pretty little head. Just enjoy yourself today, yes? You’re going to be with the lord’s son. Perhaps he’s more than the papers make him to be.”
“He’s a male.” You huffed softly, yet her embrace gave you a small flicker of confidence.
Maybe it would be alright after all.
--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---
“Are you going to be scowling this much at the Equinox ball?”
“Depends. Will you irritate me this much then?” Whatever Primrose and Ordelia advised for you flew completely out the window as soon as you entered the carriage that waited outside your complex. You had glanced around nervously before climbing in as soon as the door opened, his smug voice welcoming you.
“What are you afraid of? I won’t bite- not unless you’d like me to.”
Your nose wrinkled at his tacky response, but it was truly his foxish grin that unsettled you. In fact, everything about him unsettled you. You truly despised how handsome he was- especially when he was quiet, when he didn’t annoy you. It gave you time to observe him as he looked out the window of the moving carriage. His eyes glimmered in the light of the sun, as if his irises couldn’t decide what colour they wanted to be. His hair reminded you of the brightest, orange leaf you could find. He certainly seemed to emanate the idea of ‘Autumn’- as if he was the physical manifestation. Your stomach lurched as you sobered up to the ‘goo-goo’ eyes you gave him, your lip curling as you huffed at Eris and looked away, causing him to chuckle.
“I didn’t even say anything that time.”
You didn’t deign to respond, sending him a judgemental side glare, as if he wasn’t the noble who was taking you out for the day.
“You ought to be nice to me, lest you incur the wrath of my father. Or myself, for that matter.” His canines flashed as he smiled at you, his body language conveying a silent warning. You snorted softly at the mention of his father, unable to bite your tongue as you crossed your arms,
“And what will he do? Kick me out of his court? Wouldn’t be the first, would I?”
Eris’ face fell, and all sense of mirth- no matter how smug- left his face. He regarded you with a slow, calculating look- his eyes raking over you- before he rolled them, a more snarky, arrogant smirk curling on his lips as he regarded you again, clicking his tongue.
“My, my, what a tongue. Don’t tell me you’re subjecting me to ‘politics’ now. Aren’t you supposed to look pretty and dance?”
“Why am I here?” It wasn’t a question, and you wouldn’t apologise for it as you snapped at him, narrowing your eyes as you sat up straight- as if to strike like a cobra.
“Don’t you listen, darling? I’m taking you out for the day- to get acquainted and what-not. You ought to learn about my family before you insult them as horribly as you insult me- and we’ve only been friends for a day.”
You barked a laugh, almost recoiling in disgust. Friends? I’d rather drink dirty lake water.
“You are also going to be responsible for assisting in a make-shift Calanmai, shall we say.”
Your ears twitched, and you almost lunged for him. “If you’re implying that we are to share a bed, I’d prefer you to kill me right now.”
This time, he rolled his eyes, shaking his head as if you were the idiot in the carriage. “No, darling. Why don’t you listen to me first, before you go off rattling your poor little brain. The Spring Court cannot… ‘deliver’ on Calanmai this year, so the Autumn Court has decided to take up the honour. The Equinox is the night where the magic in our land concentrates the most- so you will be dancing to appeal to the Mother, and invoke a surge of power. Then, we will have a ball, where you get to look pretty on my arm and do some dances for me, in true ballerina fashion.”
“Prick.”
“That naughty tongue of yours- I must say, darling, you won’t last a minute with my father if you keep that up-”
“I could care less for your father.” You cut in, glaring at him with all the contempt you could muster.
“I could care less for him, and you, and your spoilt, sheltered family. You’re all tyrants.” The leash you kept your temper on, which wasn’t doing much before, was on its final thread now. But when Eris watched you in his usual smug amusement, snickering softly as if your disdain for him was comical, it made you lose it.
“See? You laugh because you know it’s true. You’re a spoilt, womanising bastard of a ‘lord’, and I dread the poor girl who has to sire your children. You- like your father, have no respect for your citizens- the natives, and those who came here seeking asylum.”
He inspected his nails boredly while you ranted, nodding along dryly, “Oh, I know. Doesn’t it just eat you up inside?”
“It does, actually. You and your father make no sense. He’s actively driving your people to ruin- upping their land tax when he knows damn well how Amarantha’s blight affected the court’s harvest and vegetation. Your soldiers are pulling families out of their homes in the dead of night, in the middle of the day, kicking them out with nothing but the clothes on their back and for what? Because your father was in the mood for some ‘nationalism’? Mothers, pleading for shelter, their children cold and crying while you all sit back and do nothing- provide no resolutions, no assistance. I don’t even want to imagine how weak and pathetic your mother must be-”
“Hold your fucking tongue.”
A sharp snarl tore through your rant, and in a blink, he had you pinned against the back of the carriage seat. Eris’ breath warmed your face, his canines sharp and pearly enough that you saw your warped reflection in them. His eyes were certainly bright now- as if he had captured the Vanserra fire in his irises, and for a moment you were completely distracted by his pretty eyes before you felt how tightly he gripped your upper arms, the feeling of his fingers digging into your biceps uncomfortably making you snarl as you pushed against him, trying to kick him off. Your body seemed to wake up as his skin made contact with yours; blood rushing in your veins; heart racing- the beats pounding in your ear as your stomach fluttered? Churned? You weren't sure what it was, but you didn’t like the foreign feeling.
“Let me go-”
Unwavering, he kept you in his grasp, his breathing almost uneven, some loose strands of auburn hair curling as they hung in front of his eyes. Everything felt far too amplified as he forced eye contact from you, and you wanted to get away from whatever this was.
“Speak about the Lady of the Autumn Court like that again, and I’ll rip out your fucking tongue.”
You had never been up and close with the Autumn heir- never knew what he looked like when he was angry- never experienced his aggression. But the flutter, the flicker of something that roiled in your lower stomach made you swallow dryly, your eyes locked on his as you silently nodded, your voice soft,
“Fine.”
Your eyes had widened at this point, and to a stranger, it would look like you were a frail deer cornered by a fox. Eris took slow, deliberate breaths to calm himself, his glare deadly as it bore into you in a way that was uncomfortably intimate. You watched his eyes visibly flicker from your own to your lips for a considerable moment, before he pulled away, releasing your arms from his grip as he sat back in his seat, looking out the window- jaw clenched. You both stayed silent for the rest of the carriage ride, yet your eyes never strayed from his jaw for that moment; your stomach fluttered every time he clenched it.
Well, this was certainly a start.
--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---
You felt the carriage stop, and your head slowly turned back in his direction. At some point, you had turned away, looking out the window as you hugged yourself- your hands resting on your arms, where his hands had wrapped around them. You couldn’t get the feeling of them off you, the area of skin that he touched was still warm even after he had let go ages before. Your mind had raced in that long moment of silence- he certainly took the reputation of his mother seriously. What possibly could have caused that reaction? You had tried to remember what you could about the Lady of Autumn; not that there was much to go off. She barely had a moment in the spotlight, thanks to Beron. You didn’t even know her name- but did anyone? Everything you could remember about her was… muted. As if she wasn’t really there.You thought of the noble female fae again, and remorse trickled in, making you almost flinch at the way it tasted in your mouth. You pictured a lonely woman, married off to a man that made it his mission to evidently mistreat her, and it made something die within you.
“I’m sorry.”
It was quiet, and he didn’t spare you a glance as he opened the door, disappearing out of the carriage before a hand stuck back in, waiting for yours to help you out of the carriage. You hesitated- would it burn? Would it warm your body the way it did when he grabbed you before? You barely had a chance to consider it before he pulled you out as if you weighed nothing more than a feather, his other hand instinctively catching your waist to steady you as your feet touched the ground. Before you could even look up at him, he let go, looking away with indifference that made a small part of you roll your eyes.
“I’m sorry. For insulting you and your family.”
You tried again, toeing at a small pebble on the ground. This was stupid. You felt like a child. And what right did he have to get all upset when it was true what you had said-
“I couldn’t care less what you think of me, nor my father. But you do not speak of my mother that way. Ever.” The seriousness in his tone when he regarded you finally made you stand straighter. There he was. That was Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court and future Lord, the oldest Vanserra son. This time, there was no arrogance from him when he spoke- nor any barbed retorts from you. You looked at him, squinting as the rays of the sun slightly marred your vision before you shielded your eyes with a hand.
“Where are we?”
“The amphitheatre that will be used for the Equinox. Thought you’d want to see where you’d be performing, lest you accuse me of ‘blind-siding’ you.” He seemed to have resorted back to his snide, playful manner quick enough- yet you were still cautious- still curious.
“I’m not from the Autumn Court.” You blurted out- not in the most cohesive way, of course- shifting your weight from leg to leg as you stayed put as he walked ahead. He sensed that you hadn’t followed and sighed, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow.
“But you live in the Autumn Court, darling. Forgotten already?”
“No. That’s not what I meant.” You almost felt like a child with the way you responded, and he seemed to pick up on that as he snickered.
“I’m not from the Autumn Court.” You tried again, narrowing your eyes as you watched him roll his ith a dramatic sigh.
“Would you like a medal?”
You ignored him and stepped forward, looking out at the autumn scenery, shivering slightly despite being dressed in warm layers. “Why was I chosen to do this? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have someone of Autumn Court origin?”
“Are you really this ungrateful for such a prestigious opportunity?” The smile in his voice was evident as he goaded you, and you sighed, making your irritation known. He chuckled, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he grabbed your arm to walk with you, only to sigh happily as you hissed and smacked his hand away,
“Alright, alright- I confess, I picked you personally.”
Well you knew that already.
“Obviously. Why?” You glanced at him as you both walked towards the large stone infrastructure, and he shrugged, the smile on his face evident that he wasn’t going to tell you- or at least, tell the truth.
“You’re pretty. Available. Apparently you’re the best in the Autumn Court. Why wouldn’t I?” He asked sweetly, his saccharine grin making you glare at him before looking forward. His words made your ears redden, yet you tried to ignore his wily charms as you followed.
--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---
Leaves crunched underfoot as you neared the large amphitheatre where you’d be performing, your eyes widening as you took in the horizon that came into view. The amphitheatre was situated on a tall hill that seemed to overlook all of the Autumn court territory, and even you couldn’t resist the varying hues of red through brown that appeared in the trees, in the reflections of the large lake at the foot of the hill you stood on. As you turned your head, looking back toward the structure, there was a tall, grey marbled statue of a feminine figure with a hood over her head, obscuring her face. In her hands, there was the image of fire, with a stony cauldron at her feet, and at the bottom of the statue was an inscription in a language you didn’t recognise- though you recognised the statuette immediately.
“The Mother.”
“And the Cauldron,” Eris nodded, eyeing the statue with a face you couldn’t read, before he nodded at you.
“You’ll be dancing in front of her, and my family, and probably most- if not all of the Autumn Court, to invoke the magic of the Court and make sure it thrives- isn’t that exciting?” Eris crooned patronisingly, not even giving you time to respond as he walked towards the large stone slab that posed as the main stage.
“And then, you and I will dance, commemorating me, commemorating my family- the one you seem to despise so eagerly- and commemorating the magic that flows through our land. How wonderful.” He sighed, as if swooning over a romantic gesture, and you couldn’t make your irritation more evident.
“Lighten up, won’t you darling?” When his taunt went unanswered, that cunning, manipulative smile curled on his lips again as he walked over to where you were overlooking the Autumn Court.
“I mean it, you know. You ought to be kind to me. I hold the future of your beloved, ratty, worn-down studio in my treasury.” At the threat in his tone, you tensed, scoffing spitefully as you crossed your arms to hide from the chill.
“Threatening me now? Really?”
He shrugged, standing next to you with his hands behind his back as he looked out at the landscape, “Not a threat to you, darling. But to the old studio that seems to be in the way of some projects my father wants to take action on. It would be quite easy to knock down- I even heard a rumour that its owner is behind on payments! Imagine my surprise when your pathetic little instructor grovelled at my feet, begging for a solution.” He shrugged, completely indifferent to the callousness of his character. You, on the other hand, seethed with rage as hot as the sun. It bubbled and simmered, and you pondered how quickly you’d be able to run if you kicked him down the mountain. But instead, you bit your tongue- you two had already gone at each other’s throats today, and it wasn’t even lunch time. Eris took your silence as space to continue, and he chuckled unapologetically as he shrugged,
“Besides, I told your weaselly little ‘mentor’ that if you did not perform to my standards, did not act to my standards, he wouldn’t see the money that was to be rewarded for your service. Although… no money means no payment on the property, which means- Oh! No more dance classes for little [Y/N] [L/N], the prima of her time.” He shook his head, his voice sounding almost sympathetic, though your eyes caught his fiendish grin in your peripheral.
“You really like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?”
“It’s me, darling. Of course.”
“Prick.”
“Don’t push it, darling.”
╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: Ngl guys? this chapter is somewhat of a filler to bridge us to the next bits. I've had lots of writer's block but I persevered for you guys!! it's 1:20 a.m. for me rn and i have classes tomorrow so imma sleep- but pls give this some love, and (NICE) criticism bc i am a sensitive soul <3
#lexluvswriting: l'autunno#lexluvswriting ✏️#eris vanserra x reader#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#eris acotar#eris fic#eris x reader#eris vanserra#eris vandaddy#lady of autumn#beron vanserra#x female reader#x fem!reader#x female y/n
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Could you do a continuation of the one where Cat and Ragnor summoned Alec to comfort Magnus after Camille?
here we go anon! thank you for the lovely prompt i hope you enjoy
-
Magnus is careful as he takes a little hair, a little blood and a little grace from the nephilim in the array and then he hesitates. He wants, more than anything, but what he’s about to do is a horrendous violation of someone who has given him so much hope. There is a little murmur of confusion as the man shifts eyes flickering open again.
“What’s wrong babe?” He’s asked and Magnus chokes on a cry because this man is coddling him, calling him endearments that must make sense from wherever he’s from and he’s barely conscious and clearly in a magical array, but his only concern is Magnus.
“I need something from you—” Magnus starts to say, something hopeless in his voice because he’s going to have to steal it, when his angel says no.
“Anything.” Magnus is promised instead. He’s being watched by fever-bright hazel eyes and hands reach out to cup his face, “everything.” Magnus is pulled into a clumsy, half-conscious kiss and he’s shocked by the taste of cold, foreign energy on his tongue and his nephilim wriggling eagerly against him, opening up his soul to bear everything Magnus needs and more.
Magnus harvests a tiny piece of his soul, just enough to make sure he can call the correct soul to him from across time and space, and then he lets the kiss end. There are tears on his face when his nephilim — no, not his not this one but one would be his — falls back to the floor in a gentle slump guided by Magnus’ magic.
“Oh laddie, it’s just as I hoped.”
Ragnor’s voice brings Magnus back to reality and he lets himself be pulled out of the array and he’s clutching the sliver of soul, unwilling to let it go.
“We need to store it, quickly.” Cat interrupts Magnus’ musing, her eyes sharp as she focuses on the small shard of silver-blue light. “We can’t risk it being damaged or lost.”
Magnus growls at the thought and weaves his magic around it, encasing it within an orb of hellfire that Cat then weaves stasis and health charms on and Ragnor adds his own lengthy list of preservation charms.
“Ragnor, can you get me a list of all nephilim bases most likely to suffer a tectonic shift in the leylines and are more prone to demonic rifts?”
“I’ll narrow it down to half a dozen of the best options.” Ragnor promises Cat, and Magnus is so grateful they’re there, that they’re taking care of him like this.
“Magnus, you’ll need to find a werewolf pack, a vampire clan or a frolick of fae. Slaughter them, harvest their hearts or their soul-gems and we’ll use those to power the array. We’ll need all of your power concentrating on finding and pulling the right one for you.”
“You’re going to help me, right?” Magnus asks, eyes sharp as he memorizes the lines of the face that has given him so much hope.
“We’re going to.” Cat says with a sharp smile that Magnus remembers fondly from their pirating days. “We’re going to get you your boy, Magnus. We’re going to get one who is going to love and devote himself to you. Whose going to die before he’d leave you, who will be immortal and stay by your side for eternity.”
“What?”
“There are endless possibilities, Magnus.” Ragnor reminds him fondly, “why limit yourself when you haven’t even let time and space limit you. There is no reason to think some version of your boy isn’t already immortal. It will save us the issue of covering up three horrifically illegal and unethical rituals in the same decade, rather than just the two.”
Magnus snorts, so hard he thinks he might cry from the burn in his eyes, but a hand pats him on the back and Cat winks at him, miming a bottle of rum and Magnus summons one, choking on a mouthful of four century old swill that still tastes like the rot of their ship.
They harvest everything they need and are just about to let the array restart, sending Magnus’ hope elsewhere when dark flames, the bitter and shifting red of Edom’s sands come to life.
They devour the array and Magnus and Ragnor and Cat step back and Magnus almost thinks about trying to save him but then they watch, in awe as the nephilim relaxes into the fire.
Alexander, my Alexander.
The fire whispers, the murmurs growing louder as a dark hum fills the room.
Ragnor grabs Magnus and shoves him behind them, putting more room between the man Magnus’ covets and whatever has come to claim him.
“Magn’s—” the man, Alexander, murmurs and he smiles, as if delighted and protected.
My darling, Alexander. I have you now.
The flames cover him and flare in a flash and when they all open their eyes, it’s to find the array never existed and every single piece of magic related to the array has been destroyed.
“The soul piece.” Magnus hisses, exhausted and feeling about to crack apart. “Did it survive?”
Ragnor looks weak and drawn and he’s pale, his skin going a mint green as he summons the orb and Magnus holds his breath, Cat’s grip tight on his arms as Ragnor sighs in relief.
“It’s intact, unharmed though a few of the protections cracked. If they,” — and Ragnor pauses because they all know who was responsible for those flames, “weren’t in such a hurry, I’m not sure it would have been usable.”
“Then,” Magnus says, and he feels stronger than he has in centuries, even though he feels shaken by the power another version of himself wielded so carelessly. “Clearly, my vacation is over. It seems I’ve let myself grow lax and that I’ll soon have something to protect just as fiercely. I’ll get ready to go to Edom.”
Cat and Ragnor both wince, but they don’t disagree. They can’t, after seeing the flames and knowing only one place where Magnus can gain such control. Magnus is going to give himself six years. Six years is long enough even as an immortal that Magnus’ soul and heart argue fiercely with waiting, but he wants to know that when he plucks his boy from across the worlds, that no one can take him back from Magnus.
Sometimes, sacrifices must be made.
#shadowhunters#magnus bane#malec#alec lightwood#writing wednesday#lumine writes#writing wednesdays#my fics#my fanfics#my ficlets#shadowhunters au
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TIMING: Recently LOCATION: You'll never guess but it's another alley SUMMARY: As he's wont to do when he bounces back from an affliction, Parker (@wonder-in-wings goes a-harvesting again with more cruelty than normal. Unfortunately, Finn (@animotoph0bia can feel everything as Parker's prey stirs back to consciousness. CONTENT WARNINGS: drug manipulation (the fae starts unconscious)
Night. The protector of the things that slithered in the darkness; the rats, detritus, bacteria, and undesirables. It coated the vampires and the creatures of the shadows. It was pervasive, yet embraced. And it made the particular stabs of light that penetrated it stand out all the greater, bathing those in that light in garish yellow, glimmering whites and the occasional electric fluorescent blue. Parker was under one of those garish yellow lights in a disused alley, dancing close to one of the fringes of the circumference so he could steal away into the black in a fluid motion. He was on the ground, on one knee as the other leg was bent in such a way that it could lift him onto his feet in a separate fluid motion.
Something else on the ground that couldn’t move nearly as quickly or gracefully was an unconscious, humanoid individual, with dark, mottled skin and shining iridescent plates on its shoulders, shins, forearms and thighs. The Warden was bent over it, carefully using a scalpel to cut some of the excess skin away from around a large, curved cover that hid a membranous, glittering insect wing below it that hung absently in the cold night air. The only sounds in the alley were faint scraping sounds, flesh being cut, intermittently interrupted by the hiss of cauterization. Parker worked quickly, efficiently, falling into an ever-familiar rhythm.
It had been over a month since he had properly harvested from a fae, given that the whole incident with the bloodclinger had created some unintentional setbacks in his collection process. During that time, Parker felt restrained. Like some aspect of him had been held back. He had grown sullen, short-tempered and, towards the tail-end of it, with an air of uncertainty about him. An artist with no materials. A machine with no function. His recovering and going back to his old habits - which seemed decreasingly like something he should’ve been doing, though he wasn’t remotely in a place to contemplate it at present either literally or mentally - served similarly as they had last time.
He was working quickly and efficiently, but with an additional aspect of brutality. It was when he had hunted that night he encountered the balam and took its tail. It was the misty afternoon that he had been attacked by Emilio, with an previously unmatched aggression that didn’t suit the Warden. That was present tonight, his mind mysteriously absent of any unhelpful family members’ commentary regarding the things he was perceiving. Another thing that was usually present, leaving him empty and without any assistance, regardless of which side that assistance was coming from. Parker tore into the fleshy carapace of the beetle-like entomid, staring at his work intensely.
So intensely that he failed to notice the nymph starting to stir, their groans of confusion and pain quiet enough not to have reached his ears.
— —
Finn wasn’t quite sure if this was working - walking around until his body was forced to admit defeat and let him sleep. Since most of the alternatives had failed and Milo had, for once, actually been asleep and not responding to a three am message, here he was. At least it was quiet, mostly deserted, which relieved the empath of any added stress. Or any other emotion, really.
Of course, he should have known better than to take note of this peace and quiet and actually be thankful for it. What was that saying about using the ‘q’ word?
It stopped him in his tracks at first, the gut wrenching fear. Laced with overwhelming disgust and pain, yet worst of all, the quiet contemplation somehow mingled in with all of that. Finn didn’t notice his breathing picking up speed, going shallow, nor the beads of sweat that suddenly clung to his temples despite the close to freezing temperature. He just needed to know the source, confirm with himself that it wasn’t as bad as it felt. And if it was…
Anyone sensible would have called the police. Of course, just anyone wouldn’t have literally lived and breathed the scene taking place in front of them the second a corner was passed, almost able to know how much those cuts would sting even though that wasn’t part of the deal. “Stop that.” Finn’s voice, shaky and cracking under the crushing weight of someone else’s pain, rang out in the alley. They didn’t even feel like his own words, his own thoughts - he was just a conduit for the person, whatever they were, currently screaming silently.
Their emotions weren’t silent, though.
“I said stop.”
— —
There was an order that cut through his thought process, unfamiliar compared to the slicing of skin, the chipping of chitin. It was faint, but present and Parker did indeed stop. Slow, methodical, moving as though he were being threatened from behind but with the expectation that whoever was behind him was a regular human. He couldn’t have been a fae, but at this rate, Parker couldn’t have been sure that he was a regular human. Feeling the fae breathing with increasing erraticism, an indicator that it was waking from its enforced slumber, Parker placed a palm against its chest, turning his head where icy blue eyes looked over at whoever was giving him none-too-confident orders. A boy. Or an adult, but disheveled. Small, not well put-together. Younger. Parker, hand still on the fae’s chest, stared down the stranger. There were words that could’ve been said, but none of them seemed particularly effective in this situation. So he said nothing, instead staring wordlessly at the young man that interrupted his process. The fae on the ground next to him started moving more fervently, slurred words tumbling out of a drooling mouth. He ignored whatever could’ve been interpreted and increased his firm pressure on its chest.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He said after a moment of silence, punctuated only by the entomid’s hazy sound effects. It was devoid of emotion, empty of indication of threat, promise, or urging. It was a statement, simple in its meaning and with no deeper implication.
— —
As the steely, blue gaze turned to Finn, almost lucent in this lighting, the empath shivered. Whether from the chill of that stare or the waves of fear rushing through him, some of it his own, was unsure. At least the meticulous movements of blade against flesh had stalled for now but it did little to still the rush of panic still making Finn feel faint. But the more the humanoid creature stirred, the more the emotions shifted and changed. There was still fear, enough of it to almost paralyze the empath, but anger was starting to simmer under the surface.
“You’re hurting them,” Finn stated in response. About as obvious as the fact that Finn indeed had no business being here but it seemed they were stating facts clearly observed by both parties. Moving his eyes from the two blue voids staring him down was much harder than it should have been but they managed to land on the real owner of the emotional turmoil. Their eyes, barely open and pupils blown, perfectly conveyed the cry for help. Not that Finn had needed the visual confirmation. It did incite a sort of call to action, however, the feet previously glued to the ground suddenly moving.
This man had weapons. Had somehow subdued a creature more than human yet Finn, usually more on the end of feeling even less than your average human, was stepping forwards. “I think you should go.”
If Finn’s own emotions had been behind the wheel, the suggestion would have been shaky and withdrawn. Hell, he probably wouldn’t be here making a stand in the first place. Maybe in some ways, the calm nothing was acting as a catalyst for all of this. It definitely wasn’t coming from the victim, they were anything but calm. Well, calm felt like too kind of a word for whatever this sensation was. Finn might have been able to dissect it further if not for the everything all at once of the situation.
— —
The hunter’s unwavering stare on the stranger persisted as the latter recommended that he ‘go’. Blue eyes then danced on the withered, messy form of the stranger, checking their legs for visible belts or straps, wondering if there was a weapon hidden inside the thick jacket. Or maybe if there was something Parker couldn’t see; was the boy a shifter? For a fraction of a second, he wondered if he was about to be attacked by a werewolf and what a pain that would’ve been. Maybe the giant snake version, similar to what he had seen from Anita. Or neither; perhaps an undead? He had methods for dispatching those. Parker was nothing if not a learning creature, having carried a small, sliver-shaped stake since the fight in the crypt for Metzli’s freedom. Cutting off the head likely would’ve been difficult if he were a zombie but the Warden assumed he had the benefit of speed and retaining intelligence. All of this was rifled through his mind and in a swift moment, he was standing upright. The hand that was placed on the fae’s chest was replaced by a firm steel-toed boot, the motion rather graceful all things considered.
“I don’t.” He replied quietly, robotically. “Don’t do this.” A pause. “I’d rather not fight you. But I have to finish what I started.” Parker was referring to the fae that was pinned firmly on the ground now, and he could feel two sets of spindly arms coated in iridescent exoskeletons starting to scrabble at it, trying in futility to remove the weight from pressing on them.
— —
Finn faltered at the man’s sudden movement, all of his own instincts screaming at him to simultaneously run from danger while also protect. Despite the complete lack of similarity, he couldn’t help but think about the people he cared about in this situation. Sure, they were human while this victim clearly wasn’t but their emotions hit his brain in the exact same way. A jacked up version of his brother’s helplessness after a rough day at school, his sister’s anger when Finn came home sporting yet another fresh bruise after a fight he’d lost. The desperate creature might not have looked human but the emotions were as human as they got.
It was getting hard to breathe, panic clutching at his chest in the same way the unmoving foot pressed down on the stranger’s torso. “No.” Fight or flight were clawing for control like arms clawed at the leg keeping both of them prisoner here. Finn stepped even closer, fists balled up.
The strange creature was gaining more control of their thoughts, getting less blurry by the second and clouding Finn’s mind further. “Do it,” came an almost inaudible croak from them, words slurred but ultimately, unnecessary. It was the sudden flash of righteous anger that proved the final nail in the coffin that was this scenario. Finn was close enough to charge and so he did, simply a vessel fueled by someone else’s emotions. He didn’t have the build or the know-how for this scenario but a full grown male charging at your midsection had to be distraction enough.
— —
The words tumbling from the fae’s mouth didn’t register in Parker’s mind. Neither did the idea that the disheveled stranger would tackle him, closing the distance between them much quicker than he originally thought he would. The Warden’s quick reflexes had only a moment to steel him for the blunt force of impact and though he expressed an obvious lack of balance given that one of his boots was originally on the fae, the years of dance he’d taken prepared him to move fluidly to accommodate the sudden acquisition of the stranger’s weight against him. The man, fuelled by something unseen by Parker, was bulkier than his downtrodden appearance suggested and admittedly the Warden was caught off-guard, but he swiveled with the contact, rotating his torso and lifting the heel of his other boot to turn the two ninety degrees in a different direction. The fae, gasping for breath, took the opportunity to scramble out from underfoot as Parker’s other boot came down solidly, planting itself on the harshly cold concrete in an attempt to turn himself into an immovable object. The stranger was no pushover, but at a few inches taller and being able to tell that either the stranger wasn’t a hunter or an out of practice one, Parker still held an advantage. He’d fought someone else with uncontrolled anger before, too, and that one had a knife. Several knives. Too many knives. This one had the attitude, the emotional response, but no knives at least. “I’d prefer not to fight you.” He admitted again, feeling his muscles rippling beneath his thermal henley, ready to protect his face from any incoming attacks. “I’ll give you one more chance to disengage.”
— —
For a second, Finn’s body remembered the array of full body impacts he’d had throughout the years, both on and off the ice. He’d rarely come out on top off the ice and the second the body he was pushing became immovable, Finn knew this time would be no different. Even so, relief flooded him from somewhere else, echoed by the sound of gasping breaths. Adrenaline still filled every vein, every crevice but god was this spark of hope welcome. Pushing himself away, Finn caught a glance of the victim still laying there, in no state to properly run away. So maybe the empath couldn’t win but he knew he was a damn good distraction.
“What, you scared?” Letting his mouth run had always been a bad defense mechanism, one that got him into innumerous bouts of trouble but right now, the trouble was already here. Plus, he needed some way to vent these emotions threatening to eat him whole before his chest imploded. The man obviously wasn’t scared. He was just annoyed, mildly bothered at the interruption. Didn’t want to waste his energy fighting the idiot who had gotten involved for reasons no one but Finn could understand. This man didn’t know him, didn’t know anything. He definitely didn’t know that no amount of ‘chances’ would convince the empath to change his mind once it was locked in on something, no matter how stupid.
“How fucking noble,” Finn spat out, sparing one last glance at the wounded stranger, their anger mixing with his own as he made the first proper swing.
— —
Nostrils flared with what could’ve been considered indignation at the suggestion of Parker being afraid, the first flash of emotion that had allowed itself to cross the Warden’s robotic features. It was brief however, accompanied with the widening of blue eyes that absorbed every possible facet, preparing for every contingency in retaliation for whatever moves the stranger would attempt. No, Parker didn’t feel fear. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything, not even the annoyance that tinged the corners of his expression. And yet…
Thoughts of the entomid lying on the pavement near them weren’t forgotten by the Warden but his mind, despite not wanting to engage, was being pulled into prioritizing the stranger who seemed adamant to fight. Parker kept an eye out for any non-standard fighting moves, such as attempted biting from fangs that could’ve glistened in the garish yellow light or the possibility that his opponent could’ve started to shift in the middle of their tousle. With those alarms in mind, the stranger swung at him and he took it.
Absorbing the pain from the fist that collided with his arm, he rerouted the energy that pulsed through the both of them now and the opposite fist that hit him aimed for the stranger, specifically somewhere nonlethal; irritation and a suppressed desire to do damage for the sake of doing damage still pulled at Parker but then, so did a core belief he had which was that as of right now, he held a distinct advantage over the stranger.
The jaw was a good location. A four-fingered fist swung for the jaw and he could feel his strength literally being pulled from the punch, possibly wondering if just one hit would be all it took to dissuade the stranger.
— —
The punch he threw got blocked because of course it did, sloppy and ill timed. Honestly, Finn should have been at least slightly better at this considering all the times he’d angered someone else, or himself, into an unnecessary fist fight. The obvious solution was to stop getting himself into fights he had no chance of winning but that was an option for now, or anytime in the future if he was being realistic with himself.
As a consolation prize, he had gotten pretty good at taking hits.
It still hurt like a son of a bitch, the taste of metal springing into his mouth and ears starting to ring. Pushing through a heavy hit was also something Finn was used to, helmet-covered head having made contact with ice or a guard railing more often than he could count. “Alright, creepy butcher gets the first hit.” It made his jaw ache to speak but it was worth it - talking shit had sparked something in the man before and anything was an improvement over the vast nothing.
Since it hadn’t failed completely the first time, Finn decided to try for center mass again as he obviously wasn’t the more agile of the two. So, head down, he charged again for the man’s midsection, fully ready for both of them to end on the ground if that was what it took.
— —
The fist made contact with the younger man’s jaw, but that wasn’t the part that inflamed Parker’s precarious attitude. The Warden had solidified himself again, expecting another punch but that wasn’t what happened; instead, the stranger attempted to tackle him again. Unfortunately that move, while admittedly catching him off-guard the first time and knocking him off just enough of his balance to free his intended target, wouldn’t have worked again, or at least not the way the stranger probably intended. So the stranger made contact with him again and as he took the hit once more, staggering back to offset some of the force that was pushed into his abdomen, one of his hands wrapped around the wrist of the stranger. Using his midsection in conjunction with the direction they’d moved as the tackle found its mark, a swift motion had Parker pulling the arm he had grasped from its socket, the loud popping that rang through the alley confirming what he’d done. “I’m not a butcher.” He replied quietly, venomously, as he kept his icy blue eyes on the stranger, pulling him close to his face as he kept a tight grip on the dislocated arm. “Butchers are messy. I’m a collector.”
— —
They moved a few steps back but it was in no way a success. This guy was just a rock solid as before but at least it hadn’t been a dumber idea than attempting to throw another punch, seeing as that had gone over like… something shit, his head hurt too much for flourishes. What did help was the heavy belt around the man’s midsection, giving Finn something to grab onto as he had pushed forward, a plan to make it harder for the attacker to throw him off. Except that didn’t really matter since this was apparently an unfair fight - more so than Finn had anticipated.
He’d dislocated his shoulder before but it had been years. Funny how pain always seemed less intense looking back. Just like he always thought it would be easier, going back to his dad’s grave every year on the man’s birthday. It never hurt less and experience didn’t help with the feeling of flames enveloping his shoulder and then his whole arm, making it hard to catch his breath.
Belt or no belt, the distraction of the pain made Finn easily pliable and he was suddenly face to face with the man, the tendrils of his anger lapping at the edges of the empath’s suffering. “This…” Finn gasped out before gritting his teeth, pain soaring to new heights with every tug on his arm, free and unmangled one grasping for any sort of purchase against the solid form of the other man. “This feels pretty fucking messy, dude.” He grabbed hold of something, a latch or an item or maybe even nothing but nevertheless, he pulled at it because it was all he could think to do.
— —
Oh, how Parker wanted to respond to the obvious bait. The useless back-and-forth reserved for heroes and villains, friends and foes during a grandiose play on the stage. He’d seen it many times before, the melodrama of combat and how intimate it could’ve been had the Warden just let himself emote properly every once in a while instead of shutting any aspect of feeling down in order to perform better, to function as intended. But he’d already said too much; this was one of his more chatty fights, he might’ve realized afterwards. But instead of saying anything, or even thinking long enough about a retaliatory quip, the stranger had pulled something from his thick utility belt. The change in weight was immediately noticeable - the belt was as much a part of Parker has a limb was to anyone else, and was so finely attuned to how it sat, how the weight was allocated, that he abruptly relinquished his iron grip on the dislocated arm and any attempt to either attack or block any incoming attacks from the stranger were abandoned. Both hands, fingers splayed and clawing as though they’d turned into dead tree branches, reached hungrily for what had been taken from him; it wasn’t a vial or tampering with a pouch, no. Somehow, the stranger had managed to withdraw one of his specialized daggers. His gaze darted down where his wide eyes darted around to find where the dagger was. More emotions were forced from the mental safe that, until recently, had been rather hopelessly rusted shut but now tended to seep whether he was in control of them or not. They still came in flashes though, spots of color before Parker noticed they were there and had the logic and critical capacity to shut them back down. Right now, though, he was rushed with something he hadn’t felt in several months. Someone else had touched his belt and his mind was temporarily possessed with a brief, but overwhelming rage at the audacity of the stranger. “Give it back.” Parker snarled now, possibly for the first time in several years, as he scrabbled to snatch the dagger away from the stranger, losing all focus for anything else.
— —
It hit him all at once - the jolt to his shoulder as his arm dropped like dead weight, the man’s flash of anger and the surprisingly balanced yet heavy weight of something in his hand. Finn barely had half a brain to avoid the sudden attempts to grasp at him again, probably would have failed if those attempts had been as calculated as all of the man’s movements up until this point. It was in no way graceful, the way Finn swung his good arm, still not completely aware of what he was actually holding at the end of that arm. Even less graceful were the fumbling steps backwards, balance completely off put by the way his shoulder demanded stability yet did nothing to assist him with it.
His backside hit the ground first, followed suit by his left elbow and a new range of mind-numbing pain from his left shoulder. But Finn had registered that the object in his right hand was a weapon, making it a priority to keep it fixed between him and the man. A knife, a special one he vaguely noticed once black spots cleared from his vision, the sharp edge of it pointed up at the attacker looming over him. He would have scrambled back if there had been any way to get his left arm to obey commands. “Fuck you,” Finn hissed back, blade slashing through the air at the sight of any attempt to get closer, at fumbling hands attempting to grab at it.
— —
Clumsy attempts to retrieve the knife from the stranger were in vain and Parker had relinquished just enough of his self-control for just long enough that he realized that, as the younger man fell to the ground, that the likelihood of him getting it back without sustaining an injury from it himself was lower than it should’ve been if he had just– ‘Stayed in control?’ His brother mused before clicking his tongue. ‘This place has changed you.’ He added unhelpfully as the Warden tensed his body, leaning forward and keeping his sharp eyes on the weapon as it hovered between them. ‘Maybe you should’ve–’ “Shut up.” The response slid through gritted teeth, not meant for the stranger though, of course, he couldn’t have known that. Parker would prove him wrong. This place hadn’t changed him. He was incapable of change. It was an impossibility. After studying the movement of the knife as it was blindly swung whenever he attempted to reach for it, Parker made an executive decision and he faked out a grapple for it, positioning his hand at just the right angle for the long, thin blade to pierce through his palm. It was a risky move and the rush of pain in his hand was immediately acknowledged, and quickly compartmentalized; there and gone in another flash as it was registered, but not drawn from. He knew the intricacies of the blade, just as he figured that the stranger was most likely not going to be able to tell that there was a plunger in the butt of the knife and by the time his other hand had wrapped itself around the hand that held the dagger, the pointed, needle-like tip of the blade was shining with blood as it protruded from the other side of Parker’s palm. The fae had been abandoned. The hand that covered the strangers clenched down and the sound of bones could be heard breaking as they were forced against the iron grip under the Warden’s supernatural strength. With that same strength, Parker forcibly started to turn the dagger, still piercing through the flesh, muscle and carefully between the metacarpals, towards the stranger.
— —
Finn cringed as the harsh words broke the silence, or relative silence since blood was rushing in his ears and he was pretty sure he could hear his shoulder girdle scrape in places it shouldn’t. He’d gone too far - hell, even just stepping into this alley had been going too far and he’d kept pushing and pushing and now, finally, his own fear and realization of this scenario was catching up to him, drowning out all outside noise. Seemed pain really was decent for blocking out everyone else’s emotions. But he couldn’t think about how to get himself out now, didn’t have time because the blade in his hand was no longer just piercing through air.
His stomach rolled over, nausea making him dizzy because he had felt every thread of muscle being sliced through. By the knife he was holding. “Oh, no,” Finn gasped, doing everything in his power not to retch, feet skidding without purchase against the damp concrete of the ground. He wanted out, he needed to get out, needed the pain in his shoulder and face and chest to stop. No such luck.
This sort of strength wasn’t normal. A distant part of Finn noted that but the rest of his focus was on the futile attempts at tugging his hand away. The pressure only increased and he cried out, suddenly feeling very small and helpless, like this man’s anger and emptiness might just swallow him whole and leave no trace. Light glinted off the blade as it turned, even with Finn’s desperate attempts to hold it still, yanking hard enough to almost fuck up his other shoulder. But the blade kept turning, sharp end slowly edging its way closer to him.
“W-wait. Wait, wait, wait,” he repeated, head whipping around, looking for anything, anyone, to help. “Please, I’m sorry, they were just so fucking terrified, I had to- I had to make it stop. Please, I have a family. Siblings. I’m sorry.”
— —
Just as they had with the fae that had long since fled, leaving both the hunter and the human that had stepped in on its behalf as soon as it was capable of doing so, the stranger’s cries fell on half-deaf ears. It was hurting, just as it was meant to. Any advantage the stranger though he may have had, any loss of control that Parker had experienced was gone now. The gamut had been run, and as he slowly, steadily continued to drive the dagger towards the younger man, he felt as though he had made it exceedingly clear to everyone (but especially the thoughts of his brother and father) that he was in control. Their arms shook from the strain of resistance, his iron-rich blood dripping as it oozed from the hole in his hand–
But while the cries went unnoticed and unappreciated by the tranquil fury of the Warden, the fear that tinged the stranger’s voice as he suddenly begged Parker to reconsider hadn’t. The anger was gone, effortlessly replaced by terror and maybe even some regret as the stranger was reverted to a trapped animal in how he thrashed and struggled and pulled to get away from the hunter’s oppressive grip. The impending stab wound, the blood-slicked blade that was aiming for the stranger’s stomach, was paused and he grew still as he thought. Did he want to kill the stranger? No. He didn’t particularly care to kill anything or anyone. Was he planning on killing the stranger? Of course not; that blade wasn’t for killing. It was a sedation tool, and an easy way to disengage from combat.
It didn’t seem like it would be needed now, though, as Parker’s expression became less intense, his narrow glare easing to… something else. The expression of someone who was previously under some thoughtless mind control, created and ordered to carry out a sequence of instructions, being reasoned with. Could Parker be reasoned with? Surely he could; he was friends with fae as a Warden, after all. Wordlessly, the only sound coming from his muscular frame being heavy but controlled breathing through his nose, Parker loosened his grip around the stranger’s fingers as they were flattened and bent against the hilt of the blade until he let go completely. Then his hand was placed on the stranger’s wrist, albeit much gentler than anything else exchanged between the two and he “helped” the stranger pull the blade from his palm, all the while keeping his icy blue eyes with their pinprick pupils on the man’s face. “I’d like my knife back, please.” He said softly, offering a four-fingered hand with a puncture hole going clean through it to the man. He had allowed himself to be angry earlier, but it felt misplaced. It always did. Parker had no right to be mad or irritated, upset, hurt, proud, anything to or about anyone. If anything, there was a hint of shame to him now, that he’d allowed himself to express any emotion, or let it control him. “I won’t harm you with it. I just want it back.”
— —
For a moment, Finn was sure his hand had been squeezed hard enough to simply get rid of the endless messages of pain his brain was receiving. It felt more likely than what was actually transpiring - the pressure was letting up. Blood was returning to his fingers and although they throbbed, it was a godsend compared to the threatening crushing of before. He barely dared to breathe, to exist, in fear of doing something that might bring darkness back into the contemplating eyes staring him down. Finn didn’t even jump when the hands capable of crushing bones moved, completely frozen as a knife got removed from flesh.
It hurt to hold the hilt of the blade now, to use his hand in any capacity but he didn’t dare let it go. Waiting for the other shoe to drop or, as it turned out, an order. Technically, a request but in this dynamic, it was nothing less than an order. Hand shaking violently, Finn forced himself to reach over those few inches until the knife returned to its rightful owner, joints cracking as he released the grip and withdrew his arm. A threat of death still felt so uncomfortably imminent, such a stark contrast to the renewed blank slate coming from the other man. A flowing, gentle nothing.
Finn’s mouth opened and closed, no words coming to mind and wasn’t that a first? His eyes most likely spoke volumes, though, whole speeches about how he wanted this encounter to be over. Shivers wracked his entire body now, from pain or fear or both.
— —
One shoulder dislocated, the other hand with several fractured fingers at least - Parker wasn’t a gambling man but he was guessing that more than two of his metacarpals had been broken - but as there was a deafening silence between the two, his bleeding hand held out with a quiet expectancy, the temporary rage that consumed him sometimes was gone. Dissipated as the fae had, leaving nothing but the emotionless automaton that his parents had conceived and raised. He wasn’t afraid of being stabbed again, this much he hoped was painfully clear, but he didn’t think the stranger was actually wanting to. On the contrary, as the knife was shakily handed to him, as a mouth was opened but no words came out, Parker was able to gather that the stranger was terrified. And why shouldn’t he have been? Why weren’t more people? It was almost astonishing, really, how few people seemed to respect Parker as both an individual and one with as many visible scars as he had until he had to throw his weight around. Did people think the muscles were for show? Was his average height just that? And what of the utility belt that accompanied him everywhere? His stance, how he carried himself, his stare… was the self-control of the general population truly that low? He couldn’t have guessed what spurned this ‘heroic’ stranger to fight on behalf of an entomid who, as per usual, couldn’t have been bothered to stick around to make sure the human that championed for it would be okay, but the lesson, in his mind, had been learned. The knife in his hand, he carefully broke eye contact to place it back in its familiar place on his belt, before reaching into another pocket and pulling an embroidered white handkerchief from one of the many pouches that sat on it. “What’s your name?” He asked, regarding the stranger once more though his gaze had softened considerably. It was still sharp and rather icy, but no longer carried a nonverbal desire to cause damage. “Would you like for me to take you to the hospital? I can relocate your shoulder first.”
— —
What the fuck was up with the emotional whiplash? Finn didn’t really have the energy to get angry, mind and body completely spent, but there was a flash of something hot and burning in his chest. Embarrassment, maybe? He felt manipulated in a way. There was nothing kind coming from the man, no regret. “Please just leave,” Finn finally answered, averting his gaze to the ground, wincing visibly as he shifted. His voice was small, almost pitiful. He just needed to get away from this man’s presence - didn’t want him to know his name, didn’t want to accept anything from him.
To drive that point home, Finn pulled together the last scraps of his energy to push himself back, away from the still looming threat. The ‘kind’ offer did little to persuade Finn that there was no longer danger. “Just leave,” he repeated, voice shaking, still refusing to look the man in the eye.
— — Pride. That little sting in one’s chest, the false bravado that Parker watched get ripped from Walker again and again and deposited back to him in small pieces for him to reforge anew, become better than he was before. It was a concept Parker understood, and sometimes wondered how it felt, but ultimately realized many years ago that it wasn’t for him to experience. Another on the long list.
It didn’t upset him anymore.
Neither did repeatedly being interrupted while he was performing a function and then being bossed around as though he were the one intruding on someone else and not always the other way around. Every. Single. Time. Parker found it especially agitating when it was someone who very obviously lost the fight, but still pretended that they were in control. He wondered, alongside wondering what pride felt like, what would’ve happened if one day Parker simply replied with ‘no’.
That wouldn’t have been this day, though, and Parker exhaled through his arrow-straight nose, narrowing his eyes slightly at the stranger before standing from the crouch he was positioned in moments before. The white handkerchief, now pressed against his hand, was blooming scarlet and the excess dripped from it onto the pavement between the two men as he moved each of his fingers carefully. “Next time, strike first.” He suggested. “Talking wastes time.” And with that, he popped his neck audibly in the sickly yellow glow of the light and he turned to skulk off into the shadows, abandoning both the amputated wing and the dislocated boy in the dark, bloodstained alley.
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(written by my friend acky) wrote a lil something for prospective harvesting 2 event with my twst oc Elk hehe
It was an invitation that should have been seen by Elk Bentham’s eyes; not those of their Dorm’s head. Yet here the pair stood on the Rosenfluch doorstep, knocking on the door. This was far worse than when they’d brought Jamil.
“Adam, you invited Malleus? I’m relieved you two are finally friends,” Elk said, demonstrating that clearly something went wrong with Adam sending mail by post instead of making the hike across campus. In that moment he could at least understand why most opted for personal phones and text messages.
Spending a week with Malleus in his home sounded like a nightmare. But Adam also felt a strange swell of pride for his real friend being proud of him; he knew they’d be equally disappointed if he just rejected that fae outright. He ought to try to formulate a way to let him down easily. “Well, I hadn’t anticipated it, honestly. It was more of an open invitation to you, Draconia could come as well. Though I’m sure he has much more important duties to attend to in Briar Valley.”
The fae grinned in a disgustingly smug manner. Adam desperately wished he had a broom near the door just so he could swat the princeling away. “I should have no such engagements, Dorenglas.”
“Ah. Great.”
The housewarden of Rosenfluch envisioned being able to bury his fellow housewarden in the rose garden and leave him there for the following week. But frankly, it’d probably be useless considering his magic. Maybe Adam himself could let a bookshelf fall on him in the dorm library and claim full-time recovery at home, though he did still wish he could bring Elk along. “You’re frowning again, Adam. It’s your head bothering you?”
Despite being unquestionably the smallest person at the entrance, they reached up and patted his head. The relief was instant, albeit not an actually curse related headache. Fae-related, though, that was another story… “I’m alright.” He gave them a smile, though it felt forced through a sieve of annoyance.
It would have been nice to show one of his first genuine friends his hometown on their own! Especially considering how lonesome they felt after that recent school trip, showing them that family could be more than who one was related to would have been nice. But now he has to cater to a big, stupid magic lizard too. “Don’t grind your teeth, that’s no good for them.”
“Sorry.” Unclenching his jaw felt like a monumentous task, though.
“…was I not intentionally invited?” The fae finally seemed to have gotten the hint. If he uninvited himself, it’d kill two birds with one stone.
But in that moment he realized it wasn’t just the fae who was distressed in that moment. His friend’s sadness matched their housewarden’s, and that’s when he finally realized the pair hadn’t just arrived on his doorstep, but had done so hand-in-hand. How could he forget the numerous times Elk had gushed about how cute and charming they found their housewarden? How they wanted to get closer to him, but they were never sure of how welcome they were with all his associates around? That at times they felt the same as any other member of their house, unable to approach the fae’s rising star?
Yet now they were finally a little closer. And if they went on a trip with Adam, surely they could close the gap between them.
Damn his romantic heart.
“It was an open invitation. You’re as welcome to come as Elk is.” Even as he said it, he felt like his tongue was going to dive down his own throat and choke him. His friend had the worst taste in men, himself included.
The princeling’s face morphed into a look of shock, then glee. He even (though unconsciously, perhaps) squeezed Elk’s hand. “Wonderful. Then I shall pack for this upcoming trek.”
His friend owed him and then some. Perhaps he could privately request them to come along on some weekends. Even if in this moment he was quite sure he’d be seeing much more Malleus Draconia.
#submission#twst oc#not by me#i love elk and adam friendship sooo much#i cannot wait to write a reader insert fanfic for this hehehe#thank you for loving my oc acky#mwah mwah
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Introduction Post
Spring – Year 1: Week 1- Week 2 - Week 3 - Week 4
Summer – Year 1: Week 1- Week 2 - Week 3 - Week 4
Current Goals:
Fast-track Blue Chickens
Fishing Level 10
Weekly Summary: Leander’s connection with the Valley grows! The Valley saw fit to gift our farmer with a Track Jacket, which was graciously accepted even if the color clashes slightly with Leander’s hair. Once again the Fae saw fit to bless the crops of Aurora Fields, allowing for an additional round of crops before strawberry season.
Though we were unable to defeated Abigail at the Egg Festival, Leander can take solace in other victories. Through perseverance & Willy’s guidance Leander has all but mastered the art of fishing, now being able to harvest roe from some of his catches.
A week of gentle progression and small accomplishments.
Daily summary & donation checklists under the cut; mod list in the Introduction post.
Day 08:
Spent most of the day clearing the farm as it was a bad luck day
Found a Track Jacket in a tree; not sure it fits Leander’s vibe since it’s like creamsicle orange, but it’s like… illegal? to not wear shirts you find randomly??? Maybe it’ll grow on me
Egg for Shane
Completed the Linus trash cut scene.
Not applicable here, but as an aside: This is like the worst cut scene to get in multiplayer because it triggers so late in the day and time doesn’t stop in COOP. You can’t just skip it since your decision affects Friendship with Linus & I almost always end up passing out lol
Cleared Cindersap Forest before heading to bed
Day 09:
Cleared trees near coop so seeds wouldn’t drop in grass growing area
Cracked 3 geodes: 2 rocks & a Limestone; lackluster finds, thanks Clint
Made donations to the Museum & Community Center
The 200 Fiber for the Forest bundle is tough since weeds don’t always have drops. I only just managed to get enough after clearing Cindersap Woods and most of the farm
Still better than the Sticky bundle
Cleared some of the farm before heading to bed
Received a visit from the Fairy! That’s twice in 9 days‽ Truly we have been blessed by the Valley
Day 10:
Received the Furnace Blueprint from Clint; this will be useful eventually
Spent the day fishing; treasure: magma geode, rice shoots
Kept the “art o’ fishing” alive by catching 2 largemouth bass for Willy
Gave Vincent cookies for his birthday
Received 12 carrot seeds from Mayor Lewis’ ticket machine
Did some foraging before heading to bed
Hit Farming level 2 & Fishing level 7
Day 11:
Found & returned Robin’s axe
Spent the day fishing; treasure: iron ore, deluxe bait, bait, diamond, fire quartz
Cleared some of the farm before heading to bed
Hit Foraging level 3
Day 12:
Nothing good at the Traveling Cart
Wanted a book from the Bookseller, but was unable to gather enough funds (books are expensive!)
Spent the day fishing; treasure: Bone Flute, Rusty Cog, gold ore, geodes
Fished up & read Jewels of the Sea; fishing chests now have a chance to yield roe
Foraged some before heading to bed
Hit Fishing level 8
Day 13:
Prepared for strawberries! Felt comfortable committing to 60 bushes with our basic watering can and unincreased energy bar
Egg Festival! Purchased my strawberry seeds, a decorative banner, & a seasonal plant. Found 8 eggs and was, therefore, unable to defeat Abigail; we’ll get her next year
Planted and finished watering our strawberries before heading to bed; 20 planted with Speed-Gro from the Community Center & another 40 without
Day 14:
Did not have enough funds to purchase the book I wanted from the Traveling Cart
Gave Haley a daffodil for her birthday
Egg for Shane
Spent the day fishing; treasure: Amphibian Fossil, fish roe
Cleared some of the farm before heading to bed
Donations:
Community Center - Crafts Room 1/6:
4/4 Spring Foraging: Wild Horseradish, Daffodil, Leek, Spring Onion
0/3 Summer Foraging: Grape, Spice Berry, Sweet Pea
0/4 Fall Foraging: Common Mushroom, Wild Plum, Hazelnut, Blackberry
0/4 Winter Foraging: Crystal Fruit, Snow Yam, Crocus, Holly
1/5 Exotic Foraging: Coconut, Cactus Fruit, Cave Carrot, Red Mushroom, Purple Mushroom, Maple Syrup, Oak Resin, Pine Tar, Morel
2/3 Forest: Moss (10), Fiber (200), Maple Seed (10)
Community Center - Pantry 1/6:
4/4 Spring Crops: Parsnip, Green Bean, Cauliflower, Potato
0/4 Summer Crops: Hot Pepper, Blueberry, Melon, Summer Squash
0/4 Fall Crops: Corn, Eggplant, Pumpkin, Yam
0/1 Rare Crops: Ancient Fruit, Sweet Gem Berry
2/4 Garden: Tulip, Summer Spangle, Fairy Rose, Blue Jazz, Sunflower
0/4 Brewer’s: Mead, Wine, Juice, Pale Ale, Green Tea
Community Center - Fish Tank 0/6:
2/4 River Fish: Sunfish, Catfish, Shad, Tiger Trout
3/4 Lake Fish: Largemouth Bass, Carp, Bullhead, Sturgeon
1/4 Ocean Fish: Sardine, Tuna, Red Snapper, Tilapia
2/3 Night Fishing: Walleye, Bream, Eel
2/5 Crab Pot: Lobster, Crayfish, Crab, Cockle, Mussel, Shrimp, Snail, Periwinkle, Oyster, Clam
0/2 Master Fisher’s: Lava Eel, Scorpion Carp, Octopus, Blobfish
Community Center - Boiler Room 0/3:
0/4 Geologist’s: Quartz, Earth Crystal, Frozen Tear, Fire Quartz
0/5 Treasure Hunter’s: Amethyst, Topaz, Emerald, Diamond, Ruby, Aquamarine
0/3 Engineer’s: Iridium Ore, Battery Pack, Refined Quartz (5)
Museum - Artifacts 3/42:
Dwarf Scroll I, Dwarf Scroll II, Dwarf Scroll III, Dwarf Scroll IV, Chipped Amphora, Arrowhead, Ancient Doll, Elvish Jewelry, Chewing Stick, Ornamental Fan, Dinosaur Egg, Rare Disc, Ancient Sword, Rusty Spoon, Rusty Spur, Rusty Cog, Chicken Statue, Ancient Seed, Prehistoric Tool, Dried Starfish, Anchor, Glass Shards, Bone Flute, Prehistoric Handaxe, Dwarvish Helm, Dwarf Gadget, Ancient Drum, Golden Mask, Golden Relic, Strange Doll, Prehistoric Scapula, Prehistoric Tibia, Prehistoric Skull, Skeletal Hand, Prehistoric Rib, Prehistoric Vertebra, Skeletal Tail, Nautilus Fossil, Amphibian Fossil, Palm Fossil, Trilobite
Museum – Minerals 1/53:
Emerald, Aquamarine, Ruby, Amethyst, Topaz, Jade, Diamond, Prismatic Shard, Quartz, Fire Quartz, Frozen Tear, Earth Crystal, Alamite, Bixite, Baryte, Aerinite, Calcite, Dolomite, Esperite, Fluorapatite, Geminite, Helvite, Jamborite, Jagoite, Kyanite, Lunarite, Malachite, Neptunite, Lemon Stone, Nekoite, Orpiment, Petrified Slime, Thunder Egg, Pyrite, Ocean Stone, Ghost Crystal, Tigerseye, Jasper, Opal, Fire Opal, Celestine, Marble, Sandstone, Granite, Basalt, Limestone, Soapstone, Hematite, Mudstone, Obsidian, Slate, Fairy Stone, Star Shards
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hullo! I suppose I've just been curious about Ithilrin, your elf OC. How did she get started? What universe(s?) is she a part of?
So for years my wife and I have taken our LOTRO characters and played and RP'd with them in various AUs and universes before we started to write something original with them (in a sort of technomagic type setting with fae, elves and humans(there's a human city that's more advanced in tech and certain kinds of magics, while the fae courts are high magic with some tech, and the elves are more like wood elves and traditionally naturey. But are related to fae. There are also dark fae which play an important role), along with air aspected dwarves). These are elves and rangers and regular folks who all kind of became interconnected over time playing the game and writing them.
And as we were writing some of this in that setting she just kind of popped into my head and announced her existence as the younger sister of two of our elves (granted she's still many thousands of years old, 8200 in LOTRO, 2800 in the original setting)). She ended up filling in some key missing bits in their backstory and is now firmly one of my favorite OCs. Everything tends to revolve around her siblings and her (and their immediate circle which ended up with several polycules)
So was easily backfilled into LOTRO and quickly spread to other MMOs I play lol this got long. But her most filled out settings are LOTR and the original universe. I don't actually play her in FF14 but she's a viera there, I did roll her up.
In the original setting (which is super self-indulgent ngl) she was presumed to be dead for a few thousand years, due to being run through by her father but had been revived from near death and working with a group that was uh, they do a kind of ritualistic sex work. Magic that improves the harvest and the planting, and also a lot of general therapy type stuff. (in hindsight, the companions from firefly and Inara in particular may have played a subconscious role in developing Rin).
Because of that and assorted past trauma's she's a champion of consent/safe words, and a very do-what-you-want-but-don't-harm-others kind of person.
In most settings she's a noble at best (in LOTRO she's the High Elf race, specifically a Noldor from Valinor. High Elves in LOTR are those that saw the light of the trees).
In the original setting she and her siblings are the heirs to the Lunar court and also aspects of assorted concepts and gods. Her brother is the chosen of war, her sister is death, and she's chosen of the moon. Chosen in this universe act as both high priestesses and also vessels of their goddess(sun/moon/various seasons, etc) and will all eventually replace their goddesses by taking their power into themselves, but as themselves rather than being deities themselves.
So right now she's the Queen. Her brother is older but he married the Sun chosen so is king there now. Her sister was removed from the line of succssion. I could go into all the other characters (like the mermaid pirate captains and the messengers called the Crows and Lomea the Queen of the summer court who long time followers may have seen in other forms ;) Or Rin's brother in law who has the gift of seeing the past clearly.
And then there's the heir to the abyss who's mother is the mother of monsters and rules over the city that is the last safe place for the dark fae and adheres to darkness doesn't necessarily mean evil)
So they need to replace their gods and then kill God himself because he keeps 'restarting' time since nothing goes right and there's always darkness. So that'll be fun. Oh but first they have to kill their father, who's basically satan, three times as was foreseen. And then the fatesinger (this was before endwalker lmao) will speak and undo the world so they can sing in a new world, imperfect, but a world of their choosing. And darkness must exist for there to be light, etc etc. The mother of monsters is very invested in making sure there's room for her and her kind in this world. (and they have to kill god before remaking the world, or before he remakes it, of course)
(Illidan voice: I AM MY SCARS)
Her lover is an elf who's a wolf-spirit/shifter and said shifter's twin sister is also often involved, while also being with the Summer chosen maiden.
(My PFP is Ryscewen, aspect of Chaos, and one of the few who remembers the worlds that came before. (She started out as Fox in another original setting my wife created many years ago that we would like to also finish some day) her love is raven, who is the fatesinger who cannot speak because if she does it will kill those around her. Hence when she speaks it will end the world)
She became, in a way, a vessel for exploring darker and more taboo subjects
#celestials#this rambled a lot#and probably makes no coherent sense#sorry lol#Ithilrin Starfall#my OC#lady of the silver moon#moon chosen
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TIMING: Saturday, 8.26 LOCATION: Various PARTIES: Parker (@wonder-in-wings) and Rhett (@ironcladrhett) SUMMARY: Rhett invites Parker to go with him to the Mushroom Circle to pick a fae to interrogate/harvest from. CONTENT WARNINGS: Medical blood
—
He didn’t get nervous, not anymore. Well… that’s what Parker would’ve easily had you believe as he pulled up to the coordinates that Rhett dropped for him. The Warden being completely flat and expressionless on the outside, save for the occasional twitch of his eyebrow or a faint movement of his mouth to better express any pull of emotions on the inside which harbored a sense of anxiety was more accurate. He was anxious. Just a little.
It’d been three years since he moved to Wicked’s Rest and it wasn’t until the past couple of weeks that Parker actually encountered people he didn’t completely hate spending time around in extended capacities. Metzli was similar to him in that they didn’t need to use a plethora of words when just a few would do. They didn’t have the same level of pride and assumption to read between the lines as most people did and he didn’t feel the need to obscure most of what he said behind eloquence and metaphor. There were certain things that got caught in his head, for sure, and he couldn’t either type them out or especially verbalize them but generally, their conversations had been nice and succinct.
Rhett, he felt, was the complete opposite of Parker and yet they were incredibly similar. His time that he’d spent with other Wardens who weren’t directly related to him was very limited - Wardens seemed to either be a dying breed or a rarity even in hunter circles - and even from their couple of interactions, Rhett hadn’t done or said anything to imply that Parker was– ‘Your mind is broken, son.’ He inhaled softly, not realizing that he was getting lost in his thoughts, though he couldn’t be sure why. He didn’t do that, not usually. Things changed ever since he touched that crystal.
He despised change.
The Warden placed his unassuming Audi into park, leaving it running and after some debate, he pried his hands off the steering wheel and his blue-eyed gaze faced the direction of where he anticipated Rhett to come from. Parker was harboring some nervousness, yes. But he didn’t want to think about why right now, not when literally nothing had happened, yet. He took out his phone and wondered if he should call or just text. He wasn’t great on the phone as it was oftentimes difficult to hear but he didn’t want to strain Rhett’s eyes. Or if he called, would Rhett be upset that he didn’t just text him? Rhett said to call. ‘Just do what you were told; stop thinking about it, man.’ He exhaled and pressed the ‘voice message’ option. “I’m here.” He announced. There; a satisfactory middle ground.
He hoped the rest of the night wasn’t as full of arbitrarily difficult decisions, decisions that shouldn’t have been difficult. He hoped he wasn’t going to be like this all night; unbearable, unusually hesitant.
—
Now that Rhett knew the general location of the aos sí where Mariela was presumably hiding out, he needed to find out more details about it. How many fae lived there, what types, did they have any defense measures besides the faun that he and Owen had killed? Surely they did, but he didn’t want to go in unprepared. Normally he wasn’t the planning type, but this was important. He could not fuck this up. It could be his one chance, and if he blew it, he knew she’d take off again. He couldn’t stand another chase, he was too fucking old for that. She’d disappeared for twenty five years last time, and he didn’t have that kind of time to spare. His clock had run out. Each new day was a gift, a concession given to him by whatever deity took pity. It was now or never. All or nothing. The stakes were unbelievably high, and he was going to take his time with it.
One thing that needed to be sorted out was her catching wind of his presence before he was ready. His unique appearance, as Parker had helpfully pointed out, might make that challenging. Of course the last time he’d seen Mariela in person, his beard had been much shorter and his long hair had been brown. She’d be expecting him to have aged, if she assumed he still lived, so she’d probably be on the lookout for someone with gray hair like his. If not her, then the fae she lived with. Something would need to be done about that, but for tonight, he tried not to worry about it.
A voice message. That was a first, but also strangely… appreciated. Rhett smiled to himself as he put the phone back in the pocket of his jeans, grabbing the utility trucker jacket from where it had been tossed over a chair and shrugging it on. His clothing, at least, was very much the same as most of the working class around here, so at least he wouldn’t stand out in that regard. Leaving the bunker and rounding the van that sat outside, he resisted the urge to check on the mare that was still trapped in there, instead just giving the vehicle a knowing look before turning his attention to his ride that waited at the end of the dead-end road.
“Kia ora!” The greeting was decidedly enthusiastic as he opened the car door and plopped down into the seat, but not loud—he had a feeling that if Parker was worried about being around a lot of fae at once, overstimulation was a very real hurdle for him even in the non-supernatural capacity. Rhett could appreciate that—understand it, even, to a point. It wasn’t the thing that set him off, but once he was already lost to a dissociative episode, overstimulation became a serious problem. “Ah—here. Found ya the perfect li’l rock for worryin’.” Digging something out of his jacket pocket, he passed a small, smooth stone over to Parker, and then held up another that had a significant dip in the middle. “Had this one fer twenty years, I think. Been worn down, as ya can see. Really does do a lot fer keepin’ me in the moment. Thought ya could try it.”
—
He didn’t move his stare from the path until he saw Rhett’s figure clearly, bathed in the glow of the moon that shone like a floodlight overhead - it was impressively large, keenly bright and he wondered if somehow, it contributed to those moments where he was by himself and he felt a brief, yet intense rush of emotions as though he were thrust back into the earlier parts of the month. Parker didn’t think Rayne could realize how much mileage he’d gotten out of that spinner ring that was tethered to the magical artifact that sat in a special place on his shelf. It might’ve been placebo, of course but the Warden, for all his dull surprise and disdain for magic and magicians, wasn’t a cynic or an arbiter of what constituted as a coping mechanism.
Huh, he didn’t normally introspect like that. In any case, Rhett opened the door, greeted him with a tone that almost made Parker want to smile (and indeed, the ghost of one tugged on the corner of his mouth) and slipped inside. Responding non verbally by giving the pirate his full attention, complete with the same signature stare and neutral expression that held an innate curiosity instead of irritation, he would’ve started to drive them to the fae bar when Rhett said he had something for him - a rock? Then the other Warden procured a stone from his pocket and offered it to Parker. It was ruddy red in color with two or three gold streaks in it and seemed to be an ideal size for his pocket. As he took it and looked it over studiously, as though absorbing every detail that could be gleaned from it, he cast a glance at Rhett’s, which was dark and decidedly shiny and very well-used.
Parker’s blue eyes lifted from the stone to Rhett’s face and as he subconsciously placed a thumb to the stone he was given to get a feel for it, he did smile this time. It was small, only reaching one half of his mouth really but it was missing the threat. It wasn’t fake, not this time. “Thanks, Rhett.” He leaned back in his seat enough to place the rock into his pocket and he adjusted to start driving. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to use the stone but in conjunction with the spinner ring, he was relatively certain that he was now better equipped with the tools he might need to utilize in order to do his job. ‘You embarrass me.’ He could virtually see his father shaking his head in disappointment.
He’d been doing some research, as well; he hadn’t been hunting with another Warden since he spent time with his brother and those trips tended to go well, if exasperatingly for Walker. Not to mention it’d been over eight years since he’d seen the other man. Parker wanted to make up for his deficiencies; he wanted to help Rhett with the latter’s goal. People worked better in pairs and try as he might to accept that he was the exception to the rule - ‘Your brain is broken but that’s okay. Solitary hunters can be apex predators too, son.’ - he really wanted to put the effort into not inconveniencing Rhett, not when he felt like they had the potential to get along and increase their respective levels of success. Well… he couldn’t speak for Rhett but his own success could always be increased, especially nowadays. So, to compensate, he read about dissociation, what caused it, how to help when someone was suffering from it. And it was much easier to do research on than demons, as it turned out.
He wasn’t sure how effective he could be in the ways he could help Rhett with those aspects and he wasn’t going to bring it up at all unless it was absolutely mandatory but he wanted to have the knowledge on hand just in case, just as how Rhett had offered the stone that sat in his pocket - he didn’t know if it would help but it was something to try and Wardens were resourceful and oftentimes problem solvers, he’d gathered as a generalization long ago. “What’s wrong with your van?” Parker found himself asking to create a semblance of small talk as he drove. He recalled the thing, with its light coloring and the big mushrooms on it; it was just as easily-recognizable as Rhett himself was. At least he was consistent in his ability to stand out.
—
Smiling as Parker pocketed the stone, Rhett gave a purposeful nod and then let his attention wander to the front of the vehicle as they started to move. They were quiet for a few minutes as they drove through the dark, away from the beach and through the woods, back in the direction of town. It was a comfortable sort of silence, one that let Rhett ponder their plans for the evening. He’d let Parker pick the target as it didn’t make much difference to him at this point. And it would be easily done with most of the fae in that establishment not using their glamours, feeling they were in a safe space—because what sort of hunter would walk into a whole club full of powerful creatures that would love to see him dead? No, he and Parker would just be normal humans looking for a place to get a drink. They’d think that the unglamoured fae simply wore elaborate costumes, and would comment as much to remove any suspicion regarding their presence. Hell, some fae might even try to feed on them, and they’d have to play along as best they could. That would only buy a short amount of time of course, before the fae realized that they weren’t being satiated, but sometimes a minute or two was all you needed.
Going into a place like this was dangerous for them, but that’s just the kind of hunter Rhett was.
“Huh? Oh, nothin’s wrong with ‘er,” Rhett explained, grinning. “Just got some precious cargo in the rear that I can’t really afford to take into town. Ya could call it research, if ya like.” And he’d leave it at that, preferring the air of mystery and, eventually, the surprise of whatever conclusion he ended up coming to.
The rest of the ride into town consisted mostly of Rhett talking about bygone hunts and Parker quietly listening, patient in his way regardless of whether or not he found the stories interesting. Of course, once they found a parking spot near the fae club, that sort of chatter had to be dropped. Going over the plan once more, the pair struck off for the entrance. Everything appeared normal from the outside, and the wardens encountered no problems getting in. They weren’t the only humans to come to this place, after all—for all the fae that made up the clientele, there were still more unaware humans. Or aware ones, though they likely kept that to themselves.
Once inside, the deep thrum of music met their ears and their eyes had to adjust to the dark—something Rhett had more trouble with, of course, and he made a point to stick close to Parker as they moved through the crowd. The chill that crawled up his spine at the presence of so many fae made him shiver, but that was about the extent of his outward manifestation of the discomfort.
He looked at Parker, brows raised. “You good?” He offered the other a small smile, following to the bar so they could get their drinks before settling in a dark, quieter corner to better observe the patrons.
—
So Rhett was conducting an experiment. Parker wasn’t about to ask any more questions; he respected the man already, enough that he certainly wasn’t going to ask if the aforementioned ‘precious cargo’ was a person, monster, fae or otherwise. Probably not fae. Maybe a different species? Rhett seemed like the type to not discriminate, similarly to how Parker himself didn’t. Mmmmost of the time.
The car ride was… Parker hesitated to call anything pleasant but it certainly reminded him of when he was younger, going places with Walker, falling into his strange, yet somehow approachable silence as the latter talked about whatever flitted across his mind. It was refreshing; unlike talking with, say, Teddy, Anita or especially Siobhan, he didn’t feel like he was being talked down to or treated like he didn’t know what he was talking about, what he decided to remain quiet for, which was a lot all things considered. Rhett was a familiar breath of fresh air, seeming to do his job even subliminally in easing the other Warden further into what their dynamic was.
Regardless of what that was, though, it was sure to be put to a test Parker certainly didn’t want to take as they got closer to the bar, their conversations coming to a stop. He wasn’t afraid, he told himself as he craned his neck to peer at the neon sign that loomed over the parking lot. He wasn’t afraid, he told himself as the unlikely-looking duo, after going over the plan once more for absolute clarity, got out of his blood-and-ink stained car and approached the door. He wasn’t afraid, he told himself as they bypassed the security with ease and made their way down the hall into the bulk of the bar.
Crossing the threshold into the dark area felt like someone had unceremoniously doused ice-cold water on the Warden. It was warm, dimly lit and pulsing with music and energy, the flow of food and water reliably to a swarm of… wings. Parker’s blue eyes didn’t give themselves the time to adjust to the low lights as they effortlessly and wildly jerked his head back and forth, up and down as they were so indecisive about which set they wanted to obsess over first. Instinctively, he pulled his hands so tightly into a clench that he could feel the bones in his left middle finger crack with the strength of the hunter. The other one subconsciously zipped from his side like a viper and bit into whatever part of Rhett’s outfit was loose enough for him to childishly cling to the other man as though afraid that if that connection were broken, he’d fall into the gaping maw below them, into the pit of madness.
They were everywhere. They were displayed, proud and beautiful and numerous, a dizzying display of colors and shapes, kaleidoscopic in the haze of the lights and sounds and cigarette smoke that lingered around in the air. And this was just a bar, where there were still normal humans; he literally couldn’t imagine what an aos sí must’ve looked and felt like. The overwhelming sensation simultaneously inflaming Parker’s mind and frothing the blood in his veins made him want to sink to the floor on the spot, recalling when he was a child overwhelmed by stimuli. Hands over his ears as though that would fix whatever problem was turning his insides out and pressing on his brain.
He couldn’t do that. He was both too old and too supposedly professional to allow that, if his father's voice acting as an addition to the cacophony in his mind had anything to say about it. Inhaling deeply, trying to keep blood circulating to his brain to keep himself from getting lightheaded, Parker stayed close to Rhett as the two made their way through the bar. The hand that had foolishly clung to Rhett had since let go reluctantly and reached into his pocket to retrieve the stone he’d been given previously. He opted to focus solely on the other Warden now, though he kept his wide blue eyes available enough to find them the easiest paths to walk - he was still effectively Rhett’s eyes, after all, he couldn’t forget even in the storm of sensations pelting him. The pirate was certainly taking this better than Parker himself was and he didn’t address the question that Rhett asked until they got to the bar. Once they were there, Parker forced himself to unclench his left hand where four nail marks welled with blood and his middle finger was swollen with bruising as it started to work on healing the fractures that the Warden had caused. “I’m good.” He replied, knowing he wasn’t fooling anything or anyone in that bar as he lied through his teeth. “You good?” He asked dumbly, unfocused eyes dancing over Rhett’s features, as though searching him to see if he was hiding anything the Warden was suffering withdrawal from on his person.
—
The quick grab for his jacket didn't go unnoticed, and it actually prompted the warden to snake an arm around Parker's shoulders, grasping the one opposite him firmly. He couldn't understand perfectly whatever it was that Parker was enduring in this moment—Rhett’s brand of weird was a little different, after all, but what he did know was that he often felt too light when overstimulated. Like he might float away at any second, or like the world might just fall away beneath his feet. It was unsettling, and in those moments he always wished he had someone who could just... hold him down. Jury was out on whether that would hurt or help Parker, but the fist that clung to him now seemed to indicate that he might be on the right track.
Even as that hand retreated, Rhett kept a hand on the man, still letting him guide them through the crowd since Rhett couldn't see for shit in a place this dark. Not unless something was up close and square in front of his gaze, like Parker was now. Lying to him about being okay.
Rhett chuckled, releasing his fellow warden and giving a shrug. “Okay as I'll ever be, mate, which ain't sayin' much,” he answered in a lighthearted sort of tone. “It's... a lot, I know. S'good therapy, though. Me, I'm gonna have to find my way into a...” he lowered his voice, “... a community of 'em soon, and I can't get all frozen up cuz I feel like shit around 'em. Got work to do, after all.”
The bartender came to take their orders, giving them a once-over that was followed quickly by a smirk. They were targets, not pinging as fae on this thing's radar, which it most certainly was fae if the tightness in Rhett's chest had anything to say about it. Rhett just had to hope that none of them would attempt to feed on either warden in such a public space, or their cover as normal folks would be blown. “Dark n' stormy fer me,” Rhett said before glancing at his companion, hoping he was able to get himself together enough to think of a drink. If not, it'd be two of the same.
—
Good therapy. Parker knew what therapy was, if only through stories he’d read and annoyances that people liked to talk about but he assumed it was just another one of those things that he wouldn’t benefit from. His deficiencies were his own, and he either needed to rise above his flaws or accept his mediocrity. That being said, as the two sat there in the smoky bar, surrounded by their natural enemy with the creatures being none the wiser, Parker was grateful that he didn’t have to try to navigate through these deficiencies entirely on his own. The supportive hand on him from Rhett, seeming to help establish him and keep him from falling into the abyss, was appreciated though the younger Warden didn’t have the appropriate concentration to say as such, let alone to shift the conversation to it. He definitely would once they were out of the stimulating environment, though. “I’ll take a, uh–” He inhaled sharply as the sentence filler tumbled out of his mouth, almost as though something had struck him though it was unseen, just a memory of something he’d felt before. Parker cleared his throat and continued, giving the fae behind the counter a lopsided look, one eyebrow raised and his head tilted in a way that made it look like half of his face was settled lower than the other. “A whiskey sour. Extra lemon.” He nodded as though affirming that that was what he meant to say, which it was, and that was all the attention he gave to the bartender before he jerked his gaze back to stare once more at his pirate of a hunting partner. There was a pause before he exhaled, much steadier than before as they sat, drawing glances from passersby, no doubt being sized up as though they were livestock to be sold and subsequently butchered. The exposure to everything seemed to be working, though, as Parker still felt his blood swishing and folding over itself in microscopic waves but his eyes were less unfocused, less willing to become enamored with the next set of wings that they saw. It… helped, somehow, to know that Rhett was also affected by their surroundings, he’d just gotten better at hiding it. Parker could do that, too. He liked Rhett and felt a small aspect of his childhood sparking to life from its dormancy whenever they spent time together. He felt… Well, he felt like a younger brother again, in that strange way that he was a younger brother even if he felt like the older sibling sometimes compared to Walker. Most of it didn’t stick but he did imitate the older Wright child on occasion and he felt that way now; if Rhett could keep his cool, Parker would adjust, too. “I remember.” He said, trying to keep his steadying gaze on Rhett though it kept briefly flickering to a particularly-striking fae that lingered in the dim background behind the other Warden: an entomid, based off a Calopteryx virgo. Exceedingly rare given that that species wasn’t found in the States, yet as he turned on the spot dazzlingly, laughing and conversing with his fellow fae, Parker was almost certain that he was their target. “I… want to assist.” He added after another pause, with an earnesty to his tone. “...If you’ll allow me.”
—
Right. He’d mentioned it to Parker already. Couldn’t keep track of things like that much these days. But good. He’d wanted the help, but only if Parker was willing to give it. If he didn’t want to be there, it wouldn’t do either of them any good.
“‘Course I’ll allow ya, mate,” Rhett chuckled, turning subtly to follow the other warden’s line of sight and pick out the fae he’d been so distracted by. “Happy tah have ya,” he went on calmly, looking back to his friend with a knowing smile on his face. He didn’t need to ask if that was the one—they both knew it. And so they’d both keep an eye on it, as they got their drinks and made inconsequential small talk, just waiting for the entomid to leave the bar.
Leave he did, of course. And the two wardens left only moments later, watching him head into the restroom in all his buggy glory and return looking positively mundane. As he headed for the exit, Rhett let Parker lead once again, navigating them out of the darkened bar. There was a plan for each outcome: if their target went to get into its car, Rhett would reach in just before the door closed and unlock the back, allowing Parker to get into the backseat and hold an iron blade to the fae’s throat, then force it to drive out somewhere quiet. If it walked to an apartment or home, well, slipping in after it wouldn’t be too challenging. Unlocked windows, catching the door, anything really. They just had to keep close and move quickly once their window of opportunity arose.
—
Therapy through exposure. It seemed to help settle the blood that frothed in Parker’s veins, the longer they remained inside the uncomfortably warm, dimly-lit and smokey bar. The fae that surrounded them obviously weren’t going anywhere but when presented with the inability, the embarrassing urge to flee the area to preserve himself and he was left with no other option than to adapt… it actually felt like it was working. He was positive that if he had gone there alone, it wouldn’t have worked at all. It certainly helped that Rhett gave him affirmation that the other Warden would’ve let him come along to the aos sí; he supposed he passed the unseen test to see if he could even tolerate being in a place so swelled with fae. ‘It’s because you’re needy,’ his father said as the two of them sat there, with Parker feeling like they were talking but it was a cover and nothing that was being said actually meant anything… not to mention that it was difficult for him to actually hear. And, of course, the actual most difficult part of their sleuthing was his inability to stop staring at the entomid, often forcing himself to turn his head away from it so he could better attempt to hear whatever nothing they were talking about. ‘That’s because you’re obsessive,’ his brother chimed in. An indeterminate amount of time later and the entomid finally made his departure. Like a hound on a leash, it took considerable effort for Parker not to fly out of his seat and descend upon the unsuspecting fae, wanting to ask if he could compensate for the wings before they would inevitably say no and the cycle would repeat itself once more. It was… unusual, though. Lately, he’d been feeling a decreased need or desire to ask. He was usually very formal and professional but ever since the incidents with Felix, with the nix, the thing at the bodega, and by interacting with Rhett more, the question he now asked with increasing frequency was– ‘Why?’
It was the question Walker, his father, less immediate family members had asked him so many times before. Even his mother wasn’t exempt from asking this one and not once had Parker been able to come up with a sufficient explanation. Not then, not now as Rhett indicated that it was time for them to start tailing the newly-glamored entomid out of the hazy bar. After all, it wasn’t as though fae ever asked for permission before feeding on their prey; a muse would sooner die than as if it was okay to desire that inspiration from a target. A centuries-old lampade would feel nothing as it drowned a human in darkness. Immortality, a lengthened lifespan created apathy, entitlement, a haughty attitude brought by the lack of care or concern for things that lived at a fraction of their own life. Maybe those were culminating reasons why ever since he moved to town and especially over the past few months, he’d been asking less. The incidents with the balams flashed through his mind as he kept his sharp eyes completely focused on the entomid as the latter staggered half-drunkenly to his car. The nix that talked a big game before crying when she was just as mortal as the rest of them, with her tail now beautifully positioned in a jar appearing as a photograph on his eyelids as he carefully and fluidly slipped into the back seat of the vehicle as Rhett had instructed. “You have beautiful wings.” Parker said quietly, rather dully as he forcibly pressed a strong palm over the fae’s mouth while the other hand held one of Rhett’s daggers dangerously close to the flesh on the fae’s neck, the part where the carotid artery was resting comfortably just inches below. He wasn’t going to ask for permission to take them, not this time. It was then that he glanced to Rhett for further instruction, expectant but patient, like a dog sitting on the edge waiting to be told what to do next. This was unusual for the younger Warden, but he… didn’t find it difficult.
—
It wasn’t hard to move up behind the fae quickly and quietly, sneaking a hand to the door to unlock the rest of them while the other arm slammed across the nymph’s chest, pinning it to the seat. It balked, but Parker was there in the seat behind it in an instant, holding a knife to its throat and keeping its head pressed to the headrest just like they’d discussed. The younger warden looked to him and Rhett nodded and smiled, shutting the driver’s side door and circling around the front of the car to get in the passenger’s seat.
“Right, mate, so here’s the deal. We’re reasonable fellas, right? N’ my friend here what’s got ya in a little bind there, he likes yer wings. And I like when he gets nice things, things he wants, and he wants yer wings. So I tell ya what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna tell you where to drive, n’ yer gonna drive there. No questions, no fuss, n’ no need fer you to get hurt. We can all make it outta this in one piece—well…. two pieces fer you, I s’pose—if ya behave. Sound good?”
The fae was panicking beneath Parker’s hand, eyes wide. “Okay, maybe not good, but does that sound like somethin’ you can handle, mate? Clock’s tickin’, n’ we’d really rather not have to kill ya in front of this bar.” That seemed to do the trick and the nymph nodded, tears glistening in its eyes.
“There’s a good boy,” Rhett said with a smirk, settling back in his seat and pointing down the street. “Thataway, chum.”
The drive was dark, taking them down backroads out of town. As it became more and more remote, Rhett started scoping out a good place to change the seating arrangement in the car. He spotted an open lot with nothing much else around besides an abandoned warehouse, and pointed to it. “There. Pull into that lot.” The nymph did as it was told but started trying to speak to them, probably begging for its life or some such typical bullshit, but Rhett wasn’t listening. “Stop the car.” They came to a halt, and the warden threw it in park. He reached out, grabbing the nymph by the hair and glancing back at Parker, giving him another nod. “Let our friend here go,” he said softly, and the moment the knife and Parker’s hand were out of the way, Rhett slammed the fae’s head into the steering wheel. Jerking its head back to give it a quick peek, it still seemed conscious. Once more then, for good measure.
Parker’s bunker was best suited for the task, and that’s where they needed to go. Rhett swapped with his friend, now sitting in the back seat with the unconscious fae so the other could get them to the bunker as quickly as possible.
—
The younger Warden was entirely silent as Rhett took control of the situation, settling into a rather comfortable role of going where he was told to go and doing what he was instructed to do. It wasn’t that Parker was subservient or lacked independence. It was just that he found the exchange similar to what he used to do with Walker. Walker the talker, the action-taker, the one who actually had the intention of killing the things they hunted. He wondered how much different the evening would’ve been if it had just been Parker; would they still have gone to his Workshop, as they were now? Or would he have simply sedated the fae, performed the impromptu operation in his own vehicle before leaving the unconscious body in an alley and spirited the wings away to arrange and subsequently hang? He supposed it didn’t matter what would’ve happened since what was happening now was, well, happening. Whether he wanted to be or not, the fae was receptive of Rhett’s instructions and soon enough, after spending a few moments in an empty parking long and some shuffling of bodies, they were en route to the forest, out of the lights of the streetlamps, the buildings growing more sparse and being replaced with trees, the road becoming dirt and gravel.
The drive was expedient, the headlights having been turned to dim as they reached a point of familiarity to Parker, the Warden instinctively turning his head in the direction of the concealed bunker as he pulled the car to a stop. “I can carry it and lead the way.” He suggested, keeping Rhett’s poor vision ever-present in his mind with every decision he made, every suggestion and the few instructions he himself had.
“When we get there, do you want to interrogate it first or shall I harvest the wings?” He asked, glancing over at the other Warden as he led the way through the dark forest.
—
Nodding complacently, Rhett brought up the rear of the tiny, macabre parade as they got out of the vehicle and got on their way to the bunker. “It’s all you,” he informed the other warden, gesturing lazily at the unconscious fae, wings glittering in the moonlight as they traipsed through the woods. “Don’t think there’s much more I’m gonna get outta the fae ‘round here that I don’t already know. Would have to catch one leavin’ the aos sí. Ain’t worth the trouble for this bloke.” He smiled in spite of the grim topic, taking in the bunker’s interior as they entered, noting that it was considerably nicer than his own. Not in structure, so much, but just general upkeep. Maybe he ought to sweep his own, or something. Bah.
“Anyway, was most lookin’ forward to watchin’ you work when you got all your tools at yer disposal… if that’s all right.” A rare request for permission, highly uncharacteristic of his typical ‘demand now and maybe apologize later’ attitude. He liked Parker, and he wanted Parker to like him. Trying to mitigate the issues that usually arose and pushed other people away from him seemed smart, in that respect. Not being a dick was a pretty clear-cut answer. “‘N hey, didn’t get to say earlier, but ya did good back there. In the bar, I mean. Handled yerself well, mate.” And everything that came after, but that was less related to the point he was making. “We make a good team, aye?”
What a terrifying, wonderful thought.
—
The instant that the pirate told him that he was able to do what some considered he did best, Parker’s mind started thinking of different arrangements, positions, angles for the beautiful set of wings that now dangled absently, bouncing up and down to the rhythm of their walking. He was so caught up in the immediacy of his imagination that he almost missed Rhett’s… it sounded like a request. It was unusual, someone wanting to make sure it was okay to watch him work; he’d long since grown accustomed to doing what he did regardless but the tentative permission wasn’t unappreciated, even if it was from someone like Rhett, someone he didn’t mind having around anyway. In that sense, he was almost honored that Rhett, the pirate Warden with a bad eye, a gruff demeanor, his strange sense of humor, fierce desire for vengeance and troubled mind, wanted to watch him work.
Parker, expression changing slightly to something considerably softer and more mild (which arguably meant more naturally emotive), turned his head to say that of course it was okay for Rhett to be there, that he didn’t mind anyway but he didn’t get the response out before Rhett followed up with– ‘Awwww he’s praising you!’ His brother chirped in his head. ‘Kinda reminds me of, well, me!’ The younger Warden couldn’t hide the bewildered look that crossed his features for a moment, obviously caught off-guard by being told that what he did, something that his father would’ve said ‘it’s so simple, everyone else can do it so why can’t you?’ about, was something he did well. Rhett said that he did good at… acting human. Like how other people do.
There was a comfortable silence that fell between them as they walked and Parker thought about what all was said. It wasn’t much, when one thought about it, but something in the words was just enough that that ghost of a smile tugged on the corner of his inexpressive face, twitching as it wondered what it was doing there and if it was allowed to stay. “You don’t… have to ask to watch. You’re… always welcome to.” He said quietly. “And… yes. We do make a good team.” He added; between his shortcomings and deficits and Rhett’s own, they felt like two puzzle pieces that belonged together. Whether or not they belonged to different puzzles had yet to be seen but Parker was so enamored with the details that, as usual, he wasn’t able to see the bigger picture. It was a flaw, he had since learned that, but for that night, as they made their way to a bunker that both Wardens had in different capacities, he was admittedly experiencing some small, foreign emotion inside him, something warm and close, the sensation of those puzzle pieces fitting together. They made a good team. What a terrifying, wonderful thought.
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I can't get the idea of a faerie/fae Dark Urge out of my mind. Like she's Bhaal's little insect faerie princess (who may or may not also be of a bloodline descended from an arch fey like Mab or Oona), that one minute was causing chaos in the feywilds and the next got drawn into the material plane. Sure she's an absolute murder gremlin but she also steals names, eats dreams, harvests teeth to turn to gold, mentally fucks with most people, constantly playing with magic. She looks somewhat normal (elven, light pink skin, an abundance of freckles some looking star shaped, pink hair, and tiefling like eyes; black scalera with purple irises) yet when at times you look upon her shadow there's wings upon her silhouette. And then at some point the glamour slips revealing an extra set of eyes and arms as well as a pair of iridescent butterfly-like wings.
Idk. I've already named her Ithaca and in some ways I've modeled her after traditional faeries with a weird hint of orchid mantis vibes. Just a sparkly girl that was dropping bodies like sheep in the feywilds before getting lured to Faerun. Everything is a game and her brand of fun can either been comical or downright deadly. And being fae there's the aspects of deception and being alluring/charming to boot.
I still haven't decided if she would embrace her legacy of bhaalspawn or reject it. Maybe the latter because it just gets to a point of being no fun anymore
#bg3 durge#she's a nuisance but also can be fun at parties#The epitome of weird girl and creepy cute vibes#currently I've got her as a bard/wild magic sorcerer/archfey warlock#in game at least
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Would you tell us more about Pavo's weird and traditional tribe? He's probably the OC of yours that I want to examine under a microscope the most (the runner-up being Q'sevet, of course) :3c
OH NO YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD
Bullet points in no particular order bc i've Never written this shit down before:
i freely admit this was based HEAVILY on classic maya life/traditions/art but like. bunnies
well, classic maya shit + Fae, But The Kind That Eat You
ritualistic cannibalism my beloved (if you're caught in their woods there is like an 80% chance you will be killed and/or sacrificed to their gods and/or eaten)
but aside from that the Miret-Moor village of Whispering Stars is...surprisingly chill? they have beehives and cassava and probably a variety of chocobo
clothing tends to be very sparse--think loincloths & wraps & leathers--because golmore is Fucking Hot
women and children stay in and around the village, men in a loose perimeter around it
TECHNICALLY they're only allowed back into the village once a year but in practice...wow, it sure is something how those sentries just Happened to be looking the other way
strong tradition of literacy and papermaking but their written tongue is indecipherable to eorzeans
(they actually descend from a Turalian viera tribe who went east during ehhHHH one of the previous astral eras & thought golmore would be a good place to settle)
also a very strong tradition of astrology. like. VERY strong. their current matriarch, aud (pavo's grandma!) is said to hear the voices of the stars themselves. stars tell them when to plant, when to harvest, how their kids will grow up, etc
which means that when pavo was born with the constellation of the Great Tree on his shoulder, they all went "ooooh"
alas, Kalju Happened
boys are supposed to stay away from the village for 7 years after they accept a mentor, learning the ways of men (tracking, various rites & rituals, etc). after those 7 years, they return, there's a big feast, they get facial tattoos, the works. the whispering stars dudes pretty much float around in each other's orbit the rest of the time, but long-lasting relationships aren't uncommon.
they follow the viera male surname system when introducing themselves & it's considered lucky if you're trained by someone who shares your elemental affinity
(ladies are always considered to have Earth affinities, but whether they are Rehw-Setlas or Djt-Setlas depends on whether they have borne children or not)
in the wider forest, though, they use their village name
Whispering Stars members also have day names used in the village, following the number/day of their birth in their calendar. these are used mostly for divination but sometimes they get used as actual names if you decide your given name sucks
typical full name: [first name] + [day name] + [elemental affinity] + [village]
ex: Sigri Ten Deer Djt-Marouc Miret-Moor, Kalju Four Jaguar Rehw-Gilda Miret-Moor
i AM capable of going on about classic maya naming systems for a while do NOT test me
ANYway, they're allowed to go anywhere in golmore!...but not beyond it. once they leave the tree cover, they're considered to have forfeited the protection of the Wood and the Green Word, and are thus too unclean to remain. only blood offerings can placate the wood, and depending on the length of the transgression that might be a hell of a lot of blood
this may have something to do with their dances on certain times of the day or night, dances beneath the stars
...Aud, along with every other high matriarch before her, has been known as the Starsinger. Do they sing back?
say, where did ultima come from anyway?
don't worry about it
at least she's not the only one in charge; the five eldest women in the village make major decisions as a group, and among men the eldest Djt-Marouc leads
yes this means pavo would have eventually been in charge, god help them
speaking of pavo, a fun mutation he has (common among the tribe) is what are called "climbing feet;" they're semi-digitigrade, with high arches and long toes, and so he's more comfortable in heels or sandals than closed shoes. in fact he's the MOST comfortable off the ground entirely, so it's a good thing...
...that the tribe builds their houses in trees! no, not just treehouses. actual giant hollowed-out trees, living spaces carved into or grown out of the wood.
think fanow here
except fanow PROBABLY doesn't have a skull rack outside the front gates as a warning
at some point i need to sit down & come up with a pantheon but Not Today
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the toxic behaviour of the internet
I dunno why so many people love putting others down or act as if they are so special because your in a minority and im not just speaking of Antis.
Its a problem. No matter what religion, what gender, what sexuality what your skintone or where your from or if you have a disablity. Your human and should be treated like a human by other people and treat others the same way. You don’t get to act like your superior or morally in the right because your fall under a certain label or nationality. Suprisingly south park and some really offensive adult cartoons got it right! History is the past we should be learning from the past but its no right to use the suffering of your ancestors to harm people desending from the people that did the harm because SUPRISE SUPRISE YOU ARE NOT YOUR ANCESTOR AND NEITHER ARE THEY!
People love to point the finger on people and call people bad words or slurs.
for example Oh they were ignorant that goblins were a standin/ sterotype depiction of jews and all the suffering jews had to face in the past means they loving goblin content makes them a bad person.
and heres my problem with such logic taking this example .
1. Intent. did they meant any harm? if the answer was no than guess what their not a bad person
2. Educate them but also educate yourselves. Goblins for example have many origins and not all of them can be traced to jews they fae creatures from folklore and all fae and all gods were just there to explain things that were mysterious or to spice up the mandane in the olden days like i pray to the god of harvest and my crops will grow bigger or I will feed the faes sugarwater and they will help me with the house.
(This is however no excuse for goblins in Harry potter those are indeed a caricature of jews and antisemetic as hell)
q Across the world there are many many supernatural creatures from unicorns being born because people got their hands on a narwhal horn to artists being so terrible at capturing what they saw that they created whole new creatures. Don’t always assume your in the right over topics and make sure people learn from eachother and from history.
Honestly im sick of people boycotting creators or just other human beings because of their own moral descions or even bullied.
People can not be forced into change thats a its a desciion they have to make themselves and you are not forced to interact with them.
But they deserve the chance to change!
but so many go out of their way wishing harm to people. like how does that make you the bigger person or the person in the right?
if you see someone acutally doing harm to someone report them but don’t always assume the worst of people.
I personally am all for people sharing their experiences and cultures and connecting hence why I hate people spewing the words “cringe” or “cultural appreation” were not seperated anymore with the internet and all the ways we can travel now we should use it to get over all diffrences and labels and live simply as humans. You should be able to be who you want to be, love who you want to love and express your beliefs while not being looked down upon by other people you are all allowed to exist as yourselfs.
You shouldnt gatekeep clothing, folklore or expriences or religions
Let people decide what kind of human they want to be and most important be kind to one another because no matter what label or word you use to describe yourself or others your a living being deserving respect and kindness
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(Should i just start @'ing people for this now)
Cleo rested well the rest of the night, when the exhibit was closed.
They had a lot of physical work planned, and on a hot day no less, so they put on a simple tank top, worn shorts, and some work boots.
She wasn't too worried about an injury, given she can just piece herself back together.
She found herself low on usable wood, and in need of string, leather, and materials for paint again.
First she gathered a variety of flowers, berries, resin and solvent. Dandelions, sunflowers, tulips, roses so on and so forth. She removed bugs from the ground to be crushed into pigment as well. She went to taps she had set on pine trees and harvested their resin. Lastly she found some oranges, which their peels would be used to make the needed solvent.
Cleo flew home on fake wings and went through her various processes to make the paint. She crushed the petals and bugs and berries. She got the citrus squeezed from the peels. She mixed these, as well as alcohol and resin, using a machine to finish the job.
As the machine ran with its timer, she went out yet again: this time for sticks and wood.
She flew deep into the forests, finding a spot not yet left barren by the hermits' constant demands.
She walked around, gathering along the way using a bag she had brought.
She had come a ways into this forest before finding another set of gathering hermits: keralis and gem.
Keralis was in charge of gigalogs, so of course, he needed logs.
But it seems gem was here to inspect a tree.
Cleo approached, "tree troubles?"
Keralis was surprised. He hadn't seen the massive zombie in weeks, "cleo! Bonjour!"
"Hey there keralis!" Cleo smiled warmly at him, then turned, "hey gem!"
Gem seemed to be her happy self again, "hi cleo!"
Keralis answered cleo's opening question, "about the tree, yes, something about this tree is off. Nothing cuts it down!"
Cleo nodded, Gem spoke up, "I determined the tree is magical, but the magic is beyond me."
Cleo answered, "its...complicated. I can cut it down, though, I've encounter these before."
Keralis was more familiar with cleo's travels than others by virtue of simply being around longer than most other hermits. But he didn't know to what extent she had traveled and what she had seen.
"Is there a simple answer, then, if you won't tell us the whole story?" Keralis inquired.
"Err...what's important to know is that the magic in these trees comes from things....otherworldly. it hardens them, and odds are... this tree is unbelievably ancient despite its looks..."
Keralis nodded, "then how can you cut it?"
"I'm a little otherworldly myself."
Cleo summoned to hand an odd axe, looking as if insects and worms grouped together into a metal shell of the tool. The tool itself provided an aura of...exhaustion. Keralis and Gem were far from crippled, but they did feel weak, tired, and slightly more hungry.
Cleo's hands had rotted further, exposing muscle and bone that held onto the 'wooden' handle.
She took a firm stance next to the tree, and began swinging.
The bark relented into the essence within, and soon enough, the tree fell with the cracking orlf branches and crunching of leaves.
Cleo dismissed the ace, though her hands hadn't healed fully.
Cldo looked at her rotted hands, mumbling, "hopefully this doesn't take too long to grow back."
Keralis looked at her puzzled.
"Its fine!" Cleo shrugged.
"...sure, well, spank you very much!"
Cleo chortled, "of course, keralis."
Cleo looked at gem, who was inspecting the felled tree. She seemed interested in something that neither cleo nor keralis could see within it. The magical essence was likely something gem hadn't seen before, and was very interested in studying at her own castle.
Gem took some of the broken sticks at the end of the tree, and cleo noticed a blush on the fae woman's cheeks.
Cleo and keralis did some small catching up. Mostly about how cleo was feeling.. mostly better and keralis saying that he's always here to talk when they need to.
As cleo thanked him, Gem returned from her gathering, "hope you don't mind if I take some of samples?"
Keralis waved his hand, "go for it, my friend!"
"Thank you! And thank you for cutting it down for us, cleo!"
Cleo nodded, a wolfish grin forming; showing her jagged teeth, "of course, Gem. By the way, something on your mind? You seem nervous."
"Er..what?"
Cleo spoke, "Well, you've this hue all over your face!" Cleo chuckled, "feeling ill down there?"
Gem blushed some more, mostly out of embarrassment.
"Cleo! I-its nothing! Nope, nothing!" Gem put on a brave stance in the face of embarrassment.
Cleo shrugged, with wink, "if you say so. Bye!"
Cleo left the two off to continue her work, and as she walked away she snickered at keralis's laughter.
"I don't want to hear a word out of you-" gem jabbed, a blushing mess.
Keralis kept laughing louder, and gem slapped him, feeling quite embarrassed by the situation.
Cleo spent the rest of the day cutting trees, determining that cloth and string gathering would be done tomorrow.
....
Aa cleo flew home, leaving behind logs on a tarp to be transported later on, she unfortunately found herself in thought.
While the plan of work keeping her...more unsavory thoughts at bay had worked, It unfortunately wouldn't continue into the night, even as she put the paint in containers and stored the sticks.
She cursed herself for being so open with her influences. And her flirting. Well, it was more like teasing, but that's how cleo is.
She shouldn't have, she really shouldn't have when surely she would be gone soon. In one way or another.
Looking for some distraction, they returned to the exhibit to lock it up, once again looking inside.
This time it was scar pondering the main attraction.
Cleo didn't bother to walk silently, trudging over to stand next to him.
He turned without a word, silently going to cleo and tightly hugging her.
Scar had his own host of issues from the life games. His readiness for chaos and the collateral damage that came from it had always left him troubled.
The anger it aimed onto him always reminded him.
Maybe he thought cleo was mad at him.
He moved back and looked up at the tired creature before him and asked:
"Are you mad, cleo?"
"No. Why would I be, scar?"
"I don't know. That's how this usually works."
The man leaned against hist cane, and the zombie wrapped an arm around his back as the two faced the skeleton.
The paint had long dried, loosing its dripping affect. The rust may have gotten worse, but cleo couldn't really tell. Some of the splintered wood had fallen off completely.
It was as if the skeleton was decaying.
"Do you still feel it? The eyes of the watchers?" Scar asked in hushed voice.
"All the time. I was made by one."
Scar had known this since some time ago.
Something about cleo was always off, and through his time with grian, scar had pinpointed this to be true.
Scar stood in contemplative silence, looking at the piece before him.
"I feel this, somehow. Like, y'know...it's like, betrayal obviously, but...i feel like ive only betrayed myself."
Scar could be smart when he wanted to be, and art was meant to be interpreted.
Cleo spoke with a rare softness, "all you can do is learn, scar. That's the best any of us can do."
Scar nodded silently.
The two stood in each other's comfort for a while longer. The game made them close.
Scar yawned, and acknowledged he must sleep.
"Goodnight, cleo"
He left the exhibit, cane clicking on the ground as he walked.
Cleo stood a while longer.
She spoke, "what do you think of it?"
She didn't turn to face anyone.
"I think you're blind to your beauty."
#pacing isnt real#it cant hurt me#right guys#zombiecleo#geminitay#keralis#hermitshipping#hermitcraft#L + ratio + plot device + cliffhanger#goodtimeswithscar#mentions limited life#its almost 230 am#adios
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