#p. 4mr: grimoire

[macabremoons]

Heads Up, Seven up!

Thanks to @the-down-upside-finch for tagging me!

Ah, it's been a while. I actually have a ton of new writing I haven't been sharing so this works for me. Name of the game: share seven lines and tag seven people. Usually I take "line" as sentence, but this time i'll take it as paragraph.

“Have you been replaced?” “What? No.” “Are you sick? I never asked if vampires can get sick.” “We can, but no, I’m not.” “…Did you get hit on the head?” “I— No! Why? What is so shocking?” “You didn't apologize for me feeling hurt and you just… acquiesced. Are you not feeling well mentally or something? I mean, you're not alone in that.”

taglist for this (tell me if you want to be added!): @leisoree, @vollzz

tagging: @cream-and-tea, @moonscribbler (omg moon buddies),@author-a-holmes, @lordfenric-writes, @apocellipse, @sarandipitywrites, @tabswrites (sorry to anyone if they don't like to be tagged! got some new moots and im trying to peek at yalls writing <3)

[macabremoons]

Midas' Prologue

TW: Grimoire being himself, sicko for sicko romance, possessive behavior, anxiety, and general dark themes.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: "Wow, Moon," you ask with sweet innocence, "you're four concept stories in. Are you closer to understanding this wip?" No. No, I'm not. Honestly while I like this I still haven't untapped Grimoire's true insanity. One day, truly. Oh! Sabelina's name has been changed to Annabella <3 Anyway enjoy!!

Rain taps on outside of my tent. I try my best to relax to the sound, but the smell of petrichor takes my mind right back to where it was running from. 

The sword shifts from more to less than an itch away from my face. Cassander smiles down at me, and my mind is flown back to my father. All this effort, and he regards me with the same causal power. 

I bite the inside of my cheek. I can afford this time to recoup, but I can not afford to be consumed by fear. I still have to find a way to get out of Cassander’s hands. I’ve escaped them temporarily, but he will be back, even madder than before now that Grimoire has killed so many of his men. I’ve steeled myself through many things on this trip. Corpses, infected wounds, screaming soldiers. This matter is not different. Rather, I refuse it to be.

The tent flap goes up, and I go deathly still. I resist the urge to cover the tear marks on my face, but then I see who it is and sigh.

“Grimoire, you still need to announce yourself before walking into my tent.” To my delight, my voice doesn’t waver.

“My deepest apologies, my lady. I am a bit tired, so it must have slipped my mind.” 

“Tired? You?”

Grimoire laughs softly, flopping onto his side of the tent.  “Yes, me; tired. As violent by nature might I be, too much of it is still exhausting.”

My eyes dart away. He wouldn’t be so tired if he hadn’t had to save me from Cassander. It strings—seeing my exact failure stare back at me. Worst yet, Grimoire has been very obedient lately, and said obedience allowed me to make mistakes. His resistance before had felt like a curse, but now feels like a blessing in disguise.

“We’ll take a break then. I have many things to do,” I say. He doesn’t reply. He’s drifting off, but he looks tense. “Wait, Grimoire.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Sleep in my bed tonight. The floor is not enough for proper rest.”

Grimoire opens his eyes, staring into mine. His eyes stake through me completely, but I stand my ground. I must look ridiculous, but if I want respect, I must demand it in any circumstance. A king that can not be mocked by his jester is a coward, after all.

He wordlessly gets up and slides into my bed with me, face down. He’s quite close to my thighs. Too close, even. Though there is only so much space in the bed for him to be comfortable. I’ll just bear through it. 

“Might I ask one question?” Grimoire whispers. 

A single question in a lifetime of servitude. “I don’t see why not.”

“Does the taste of violence satisfy you?”

I begin to regret my kindness immediately. “I’m not sure I understand.”

He turns to look at me. “Violence is blood, and blood is life essence, at least for me. For you it’s power, no? But power at the hands of violence is an acquired taste. Do you like it?”

My fingers curl around the blanket. “I’m not scared of violence.”

“Mhm? I didn’t think so.” His lips ghost my skin, but I am too angered to be embarrassed by it. “No, no. You’ve been in too many battles to be scared of violence. I just don’t see that you enjoy it.”

“It’s a means to an end.”

“So you don’t enjoy it?”

“I am not sadist, Grimoire. Of course I do not enjoy violence.”

“But you enjoy the power it brings?”

Is he of all people suggesting pacifism to me? Grimoire reeks of blood.. He’s washed of it now, but you can see it in his very soul. Or the nook it used to be in. Nothing I could do would compare to him.

“Ah,” Grimoire hums. “That is more than one question. No pressure to answer, my love.”

A way out of this conversation. An easy solution, I do not take those anymore. Grimoire’s words could be excused with exhaustion, or it could be that exhaustion is letting him say what he really feels about me. If so, I need to know this. Grimoire is my greatest ally, and therefore my greatest enemy.

“I do enjoy the power it brings. Words can only get one so far. Or, perhaps ,they could get a different person farther, but I am not in a position to be propelled far by them. You know I had to fight just to be here.”

“Verbally, but yes.”

“We wouldn’t still be here if I did not resort to violence.”

“We wouldn’t be, no.”

The format of his words irk me. “You have more to say.”

Grimoire sighs. “Wouldn’t it be better if you were in the bed, like I am? You deserve rest too, you know. We are not in a battlefield, my lady, no need to be so tense.”

I should deny him, but I am tired. I sink into the bed. A sparkle goes through Grimoire’s eyes, but his expression does not change. Something, too, goes through me. Grimoire is my familiar, but he is still a man. This is the first time I’ve shared a bed with one. 

"Well?" I press.

"Time takes most things despite how tough they are. Maybe I just worry it will take the fire you have with it.”  Grimoire gives another soft laugh. “Or maybe it’s not my place to say at all. Yet, your desire is so warm. Ah, I’d miss it.”

Warm? The rain has me frigid cold, and I can’t stop shivering from fear. Grimoire thinks too highly of me. I wonder if it’s delusion from living for so long or another part of his… charm.

His words make me even colder. He’s slightly right. I find myself not missing the men lost in battle until I have to send letters home. It’s easy to have poison testers until they find poison. Does this make life not worth living? Does this mean that my dreams should not be achieved just because I might feel differently about them years later? An easy answer comes to mind.

“Maybe I’ll puke on the taste of bloody luxury later, but I am certain that starvation kills. I do not have the hindsight to tell you you’re wrong, but—” Words catch in my throat. They scramble away from me, leaving only the truth that lets me sleep at night. “I have to become more than my father’s daughter.”

Grimoire stares into my soul one last time before smiling wide enough I can almost see his fangs. “We will have to find out together then, mhm? I am excited to see it. Whether you like your Midas’ touch or not, I’ll stick with you. High heaven or low hells—they’re all the same to me, my lady.”

“Such is the life of a familiar,” I murmur. My tiredness is catching up to me, but I force myself to stay awake. 

Grimoire leans in closer. “Sleep. No one will harm you by my side.”

As I drift off, I call back to my own thoughts: greatest ally, greatest enemy.

Taglist (ask to be added!!): @anonymousfoz, @stesierra, @leisoree, @immortaladrien, @lyra-brie

[macabremoons]

thinking about how canonically grimoire is only in servitude cuz he thinks his mage is hot. he went with the bit and came out over in blood and lipstick marks

[macabremoons]

WIP Masterlist

𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖟𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘

All of my wip intros will be linked here.

If I do not have a full intro, a short summary might be here to explain wips I've explained before.

Wips will be sorted into main, passion, and minor wips. Passion wips are dearly beloved by me, but they will only be worked on when I have said passion. Minor wips are just in the works.

All of these are projects, but I don't feel the need to write project before every working title LOL.

Enjoy!

Daycycle

wip intro link ; main wip ; series ; main tags: project daycycle, p. d: menodora, and p. d: main cast

Rivalry Library

wip intro link ; passion wip ; main tags: project rivalry library, p. rl: julius, and #p. rl: arsione

Honeymoon

wip intro link ; minor wip ; main tags: project honeymoon, p. hm: isabella

Progress: conceptualizing/drafting

Tropes: Arranged marriage, sisterhood, fae deals, clever protagonist

Summary:

Isabella's village is swept with a faerie illness, and April, her older adopted sister, has been effected. Distraught with the idea of losing her sister, Isabella makes a deal with a fae prince. If she helps seduce the vampire lord, Ezra Cartwright. Will she manage to avoid being killed by Ezra? Or being tricked by the fae prince she's working for? And will she be able to get the medicine in time for her sister?

Forevermore

wip intro link ; minor wip ; main tags: project forevermore, p. 4mr: annabella, p. 4mr: grimoire

Progress: conceptualizing

Tropes: dark romance, fantasy, familiars

Progress: conceptualizing

(I have short stories that I've used to conceptualize this world. They are linked in my masterlist!)

And more to come!