#servent sun

[lazyboy-baby]

"There isn't," He says simply. "Who else would be better to entrust with this than my own servant? Truly, who do you think?"

a fanart of the fnafic @starheirxero made! y'all should check it out, it's pretty good

a link to the fanfic

[noinoi10101010]

Cravings

Servant sun just came back from the blood bank to get blood bags for solar. He was brought back by moon with killing blood moon and will solar short of gained blood moon blood lust. And during that he killed sun and moon and has been just trying to stop himself from killing others dispute the pain it causes as Servant had been trying tirelessly to find a cure. He comes to what used to be sun and moon home to find solar in a caged build by servant to prevent him from escaping and killing more people. "here" Servant said timidly as he had blood solar the blood bag as he basically rips the whole thing apart.....but it's still nothing. Servant already went to the blood bank 10 separate times for dozens of blood bags and yet still nothing. Servant looks at blood solar's hungry and desperate eyes and at his arm and a weird sense of desire and a question that has been eating away at him ever since this happened. "w-well if that won't work yoh can....take some from mine." As servant as solar looks at him both dumbfounded and deeply worried "n-no....i'll eventually-" blood solar says as Servant cuts him off "N-NOT MY WHOLE BODY! J-just enough.... Till your full." Servent sun says bashful "s-servant no i-" blood solar says in pain trying his best to stop himself "I trust you won't hurt me." Servant says as solar looks up at him while servant doesn't see it a small blush appears on solar oil stained checks. Solar then takes a small nibble out of servants arm and it's as weird as it sounds and looks and servants crush biting his arm to suck some of his oil out cause he gained a growing need for blood was not on his bingo card. After a bit solar stopped biting servant's arm and lick the small bit of oil leaking out of it making the beat red blush that was on servant whole face darken. Servant then looked at how guilty solar looked even it he had servant consent to take some of his blood he still felt bad he might have hurt him. "D-don't worry. It's fine really.I know and truly ment that I know you won't hurt me. *servent blushes* I event feel....safe when I'm with you." Servent stammers "I promise I'll fine a cure even if it kills me" servent says as he immediately gets back to work to try and find some way to freed solar from his bloodlust as blood solar smiles a look of pure trust and adoration in his eyes.

[tsbs-shipfessions]

selfcest/mirrorship

Servant Sun x Sun from Sven/Nice Creator’s world.

trauma deluxe x no trauma, also Servant Sun gets Sven as a step-dad (who would immediately accept him)

This... actually sounds really cute. Sven's Sun could probably heal a lot of Sunvant's trauma by just... being himself.

[bitterkarmaa]

I PRESENT TO THEE

RAYS!

⬇️Fast facts⬇️

-> On the autism spectrum

-> His right pupil is smaller than his left due to the equivalent of robot brain damage

-> Sometimes struggles with speech, mobility, and sight due to this

-> Eclipse and Rays are the disabled gang

-> He also usually has a blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape to hide in, but I got lazy so just…imagine it ig 😭

-> He sometimes sleeps standing up (as seen here)

[maudiemoods]

Grgrrr can't figure out their colors as eclipse GRR

I feel like the first design is a little loud but I don't care ehehhehehohoohohoo

There's literally a rock called eclipse stone so yeah that's what they are yayy also I would like to mention that in this au moon is a cat's eye fjsjjd not a pearl

[animatronic-assistant]

Oh, you are. But I would’ve figured being friends with a Sun would make things worse for considering the… things yours has done to. What were they now… Hmm… Oh yes! He made you his pretty little doll! That was quite fun.

This Sun is nothing like mine... You are quite rude. I do not wish to hear anymore.

You do not know... I am not his doll anymore. Never... never again.

[noffy96]

YOU. YOUUUUU….YOU’RE EVIL WAHHHH /NOT SRS /STAR IS SO EMO OVER THIS

AS ALWAYS UR WRITING IS AMAZING BUT NOOOO NOOO MY BOYS AUGHHH WAHHHH

Their date was so so so so so cute but then OFC IT HAD TO BE RUINED— BY HIM??? FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

I AM very evil aren't I

But honestly seeing this kind of reaction makes me smile, but in the way of.

I did a good job.

That other people love my boys so much that they care that they get hurt means the world to me so thank you.

Also thank you for completing their date. I had a lot of fun. Making it sweet and cute... Quite a contrast over what is gonna be the rest of the fic.

I had planned for Lord Eclipse to ruin their first the from the beginning. That Cygni would be taken back by him.

Don't worry. Eclipse is gonna fight like hell to get him back home

[bitterkarmaa]

THEY ARE SO EEPY 😭😭 I LOVE THEM SM…rest well!

@bitterkarmaa you wished to see more Sol and Rays so i provide! They eepin

[orcasoul]

The Lesser of Two Evils

Summary: Yours and Marcus' relationship reaches a new level of intimacy, a ghost from your past opens old wounds and secret schemes linger in the shadows.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, graphic descriptions of blood and gore, PTSD attack, angst, grief, fluff, protective Marcus Acacius, enimies to lovers, slow burn, age gap, OFC/reader.

Word Count: 5,731

Chapter 11 A Past That Haunts

The world around you feels different now, lighter somehow. The air, the sand, the water lapping at your feet, even yourself. If it weren't for the large warm hand encapsulating your own, you might just float away on a cloud of pure elation. A part of you still can't believe it's finally happened. One minute, you're longing for Marcus' touch, second guessing his feelings for you and the next you're walking hand in hand along the warm shoreline with the feeling of his lips still imprinted on your own, an invisible brand that will forever remain. Marcus regards you from the corner of his eye, one side of his mouth ticking up in amusement. You know you're staring, observing him with a dopey lovestruck smile plastered on your face, but you can't help it- nor do you want to.

"What...?" Marcus laughs softly, turning his head fully to look down at you beside him. His gaze, tender and soft sends your stomach into a series of somersaults, the intensity of it all making you dip your head a little to hide the blush colouring your cheeks. You smile and release a little puff, part relief, part joy, part disbelief. "I was just thinking... about how much has changed since we first met. When I first saw you - I won't lie - you were terrifying. I was taught to believe Romans were some demonic entity that would take, torture and kill until the world was barren." Marcus remained silent, absorbing every word. "But they were wrong," you squeezed his hand, smiling up into his face. "I was wrong. And I've never been so happy to be wrong in all my life." Marcus' eyes crinkled, his warm smile softening his rugged features even more.

"You've shown me there's more than just good and bad in this world. There's a lot more in between and even when all seems lost, the most unlikly alliances can change everything. I'm so glad I met you, Marcus. You've come to mean so much to me." Marcus stopped and turned to face you, still holding your hand. "And you've shown me there's more to life than just duty. You've given me a more meaningful purpose." He gently cups you jaw with the other hand, his thumb stroking your cheek. "You are my purpose." Marcus leans down, capturing your lips with his again. His touch is like electricity, igniting goosebumps all over your body. Sighing, you sink into Marcus' arms as they wrap around your body, his tongue sliding past your lips to tease your own. If you could suspend time, you'd stay in this moment forever.

*****

The evening stretched into night, the edges of the sky clinging onto the last of the suns' rays, while directly above, the navy canopy slowly began to twinkle. On a marble bench in the garden you sit, head resting on Marcus' shoulder, your fingers entwined with his on your lap. It feels so strange to have this new level of intimacy with Marcus but at the same time it feels so right, as if it should have always been this way. Since the life changing revelations at the beach this morning, unfortunately, you and Marcus haven't had much time to talk. Upon returning to the villa, Marcus was called to an important meeting with the Vigiles (city watchmen) and Praetorian Guards and after dinner the Medicus arrived for Marcus' therapy appointment.

The reluctance in Marcus' eyes at being summoned matched your own, both of you eager to explore this newfound closeness without interruption. Alas, duty called. But now, in the stilness of the night and with the servents dissmissed, it's finally just the two of you, and the moment you've been awaiting with both nerves and hope. The air around you is charged with expectation, your heart hammering against your ribcage at the prospect of revealing the innermost and most vaulnerable parts of your heart. But the desire for Marcus to know you on a deeper level and in return, for you to know him cannot be ignored any longer.

"Marcus..." you begin, watching your thumb rub softly over the back of his hand, "I never imagined I would ever meet someone like you. Someone who I can just be myself with, who makes me feel safe and seen. When I'm with you I feel like I'm home. Like... you're my home." The emotion in your voice surprised even yourself as the weight of your words, spoken aloud for the first time really hit you. A pang of anxiety thudded in your chest, making you sit up straight. Maybe that was too much too soon. After all, you'd both admitted your feelings only hours ago and you don't want Marcus to feel any kind of pressue. But what happened next laid all your worries to rest; Marcus' thumb and forefinger gently brushed against your chin, tilting your head up. His eyes, soft and deep and reflecting the firelight of the nearby braziers, slowly traced every inch of your face, his lips curving up into a wide smile.

Your breath catches in your chest as Marcus looks at you in pure adoration. "You are a remarkable woman, Alia. I never thought I'd feel this way for anyone again, especially at this point in my life," Marcus paused, his eyes now solely focused on yours. "And when I least expected it, you came along and saved me in every way a man can be saved. I thank the gods every day for bringing you into my life." Marcus' thumb swiped your cheek and it's then you realised a tear had fallen. His gaze dropped to your mouth and he leaned in slowly, until his lips met yours. Warmth pooled low in your belly at his touch, his scent. Your arms, once again found their way around his neck, while Marcus' hands trailed down to your hips, pulling you against himself. His tongue, his taste, the warmth of his body... it's too much and not enough at the same time!

Memories of that night flood your mind. The night you gave into your lustful longing and came apart on fingers you'd imagined were Marcus'. A slow throb pulses between your legs, dampness coating your underwear and it takes all of your self control to not straddle his lap right here. While you are fighting to control your arousal, Marcus is also battling his own animalistic instincts, the insatiable need to claim you as his own. With great restraint, he slowly pulls away, tucking a loose lock of hair behind your ear. "You're so beautiful," he cooes breathily. Even in the flickering fire light your cheeks show the unmistakable evidence of a deep blush as you bashfully evade his gaze. Your obvious discomfort and unfamiliarity regarding compliments tugs at Marcus' heartstrings. Well, you're just going to have to get used to him singing your praises from now on. It's about time someone did.

"Thank you," you whisper, coyly. Laying your head back on Marcus' shoulder, a comfortable silence stretches between you both as you observe the stars. However, there had been one niggling worry at the back of your mind all day, one you don't want to bring up but must be addressed. "Marcus, I have to ask..." you lift your head back up, facing Marcus' questioning expression. "Is this really what you want?" Marcus' brow furrows but you continue, "I mean us, what is happening between us. There are many women of higher standing who would welcome your favour and, giving your station..." your voice trails off, throat tightening. "Alia," Marcus begins but you just can't stop.

"I don't ever want to bring shame upon you. I'm afraid being associated with me like that would disgrace you in the eyes of high society and I'm already living under your roof. What would people think if-" "Alia, stop," Marcus said sternly but with no real bite, cupping your face in his hands. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart stutter for a moment, your remaining words freezing in your throat. "You could never bring me shame! So don't ever speak so lowly of yourself again. I don't think you realise how much I care for you, and if anyone doesn't approve they can go to hell!" And by the gods he means it. Marcus is no fool, he knows if he were to take a wife he'd be expected to wed a woman of status, but as the general of Rome he has influence and privilege in every aspect of his life.

The only people who stand above him are the emperors themselves, but even they don't have the respect and admiration that many people - from senators to plebeians - hold for him. Even though many would not approve, they'd never voice their thoughts out loud, for fear of causing offence. Maybe for the first time ever, he appreciates the power he wields. And if the emperors have any objections - well, he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it. Your instant relief settles the tention in Marcus' chest. He presses a tender kiss to your forehead before releasing your face. "But you are right about one thing," Marcus agreed. "Our living situation. If it's discovered we're courting while sharing a home, it would be... scandalous, and I don't want you subjected to gossip and ridicule." "I'm not worried about myself, Marcus," you stressed. "I'm concerned about your reputation, your honour." Marcus takes ahold of your hand, his voice dropping to a soothing murmur. "You need not worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"Maybe..." you shift in your seat, brow still wrinkled with concern, "...we could jut keep this to ourselves for now?" After a moment of deliberation, Marcus nodded, "Okay." Then quickly added, "But know this, I'm not ashamed of you, of us. I'm only agreeing because I don't want to create a scandal that would forever follow you." With that reassurance made, you and Marcus remained in the garden a while longer, watching the sky darken while getting to know more of each other on a deeper level, with conversations of fond childhood memories and topics of personal interests. It was only when you began yawning that Marcus insisted it was time to retire. He walked you to the door of your bed chamber, and taking both your hands in his, pressed feather-light kisses to the backs of them both and bade you goodnight.

That same night at the Flavian Palace...

Julia and Macrinus sat in secluded council, the dim torch light dancing ominously across the walls of the concealed chamber in the bowles of the palace. "So, what information have you gathered so far?" Julia asked Macrinus, taking a sip of her wine. Macrinus sighed, "Not much more than we already know. My sources have spoken to a few of the soldiers who escorted them from Germania, but there wasn't anything of significance." Julia slumped in her seat, huffing in irritation. "They were observed in the market recently..." Macrinus continued, "...and they seemed to make quite the impression on the locals, almost as if she's some kind of inspiration or heroine to them." Julia's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Simple minded people are like sheep; easily lead, easily dispersed. It won't last. She's just a novelty right now."

"Mhm..." Macrinus agreed, taking a mouthful of wine. "My sources also noticed that Acacius and Alia appeared quite...familiar with one another, more so than you would expect from acquaintances." Julia sat up straight, her face hardening. "This is exactly what I was worried about. If that whore spreads her legs for him it could ruin everything we've worked so hard for all this time." "I think your worry is unfounded, My Lady. Even if there was something between them, how could it affect our plans? It's not like he could marry the girl, she's nothing in society, just one station up from a slave." Julia set her goblet down on the table with a little too much force. "Over confidence could be our downfall, Macrinus," she warned. "I won't leave anything to chance. And I won't let my sons die because Acacius succumbed to the charms of a seductress!"

"My Lady, that won't happen-" "Damn right it won't happen!" Julia stood and began pacing, her shoulders taut. "Because we are going to take care of her." Macrinus leaned forward in his seat, his casual demeanour becoming more serious. "And how do we do that? She's always by Acacius' side." "We'll find a way. If assassins can get to emperors, we can certainly get to a peasant girl." Macrinus leaned back, rubbing his jaw. "A simple plan just became a lot more complicated because of one woman," he grumbled, more to himself. Julia whirled to face him, determination etched onto her face.

"Worry not, Macrinus. I won't let her become more of a complication than she already is. People are becoming more angry and restless by the day and it's only a matter of time before they revolt and look to their General for leadership." Julia lifted her chin high, certainty creeping into her tone. "And as the wife of the new Emperor, I will be able to keep my sons' heads from rotting on spikes and ensure my families' continued rule with a new heir. So she must be eliminated, sooner rather than later." Macrinus stood to face Julia, now as determined as she is. "I agree, but we have to be smart about this. If we fail, I stand to loose too much." "Then we must not fail" Julia said, resolutely. "Both of our futures depend on this."

The last day of the games has arrived and truthfully, you're a little thankful; watching people die for sport still leaves you somewhat squeamish. The atmosphere is palpable today. Confirmation of long adored Gladiators returning for the grand finale of the games has the crowd whipped up into a frenzy. The most anticipated return was Flamma, a Syrian Gladiator of fierce reputation. Swords clashed, men died screaming and the mob hailed and applauded. After much bloodshed, the final fight arrived, the spectators cheering wildly as Flamma entered the arena. His opponent, a man of almost equal height but smaller build and wearing a helmet stood next to him as they respectfully acknowledged the emperors and then the fight began.

It was more brutal than the other fights - or maybe it seemed that way as it lasted much longer than the other ones. While one man was big and tall, the other, being leaner could move quicker, both men using their strengths to their advantage. You have to admit, their stamina is impressive and the longer they lasted the more frenzied the mob became. Even Geta and Caracalla were getting over excited, both cheering for Flamma. Marcus sat beside you, watching the scene with interest while remaining silent. But every now and then you would both lock eyes discreetly, offering small but warm smiles; an acknowledgement of the new, yet secret intimacy between you both. The fight continued for several more minutes, until Flamma drove his gladius through his opponent's lower left abdomin, the man falling onto all fours, his helmet dropping to the ground and blood spilling from his mouth.

The crowd erupted in chants of "Kill! kill! Kill!" with most people holding their thumbs down. Geta stood, arm outstretched to deliver the verdict. Just that one thumb down and the man's fate was sealed. Flamma stood behind the man, still on his hands and knees and his head hanging low. With a brutal tug, he pulled the mans' head back and placed his gladius across his neck. And that's the moment the ground shifted beneath your feet and time seemed to still. Every muscle in your body froze and your heart dropped to your stomach. You no longer saw a Gladiator bleeding out before you. The instant you saw his face, he dissappeared, Faro now in his place. His eyes, his hair colour, even the shape of his face was almost identical to the man you once loved. Tears burned your eyes, your breath coming in short bursts as your fingers tightened around the armrests of your chair.

It sounds as if your name is being called, but it sounds distant behind the ringing in your ears. You try to scream, try to beg and plead but it's useless; your voice remains as frozen as your limbs. Only when the mans' throat splits open and he slumps to the ground in a pool of blood do you regain function of your body. Hands flying to your mouth, they do little to stifle the wail that rips from your throat and you jump to your feet. You can barely feel your legs as you run from the Cubiculum and into the corridors of the Colosseum. Faces become a blur as you dart past the people milling about. Bile scorches your throat, blackness coating the edges of your vision. You can hold it no longer!

Flinging yourself into an alcove, you lean behind the life sized statue placed there and violently empty your stomach, tears streaming down your face. Your back hits the wall and your legs give out causing you to slump to the floor. With your chest constricting, it's near impossible to breathe but that doesn't stop the relentless sobs as the pit of despair you've tried so long to manage opens up once again threatening to swallow you, a chorus of "I'm sorry. I- I'm s- sorry, I'm s- so sorry!" spilling from your lips. Then you feel warmth on both of your cheeks. It takes a few moments to realise the warmth isn't from your tears but from a pair of large but gentle hands, the sudden feeling of skin on skin bringing you slowly back. Eyes opening, you're met with warm earthen brown eyes looking deeply into your own, concern and tenderness swirling in them.

The ringing in your ears subsides, replaced by the soothing, deep hum of Marcus' voice. "Alia? Alia, look at me. Come on, focus on me. It's okay. You're okay, I'm here, you're safe!" "M- Marcus!" you cried, falling into his chest. His arms wrap around you, one cupping the back of your head, the other moving up and down your back in soothing strokes as you weep uncontrollably into his solid frame. "Shhh... Shhh..." Marcus cooes gently. "It's okay, it's over. I've got you... Don't you people have anything better to do!" Marcus snapped suddenly, voice clear and full of authority. The unexpected outburst startled you slightly and when you looked up, it's to a small gathering of confused faces and low murmurs. Most of them dispersed at Marcus' rebuke but a few remained, gawping at you both shamelessly.

Humiliation scorches your cheeks. They saw it. They saw everything! You've shamed yourself and worse, you've shamed Marcus. "Alia..?" Marcus' voice pulls you from your thoughts. "Can you stand?" You nod meekly in reply. Marcus stands slowly, gripping your forearms firmly to help you to your feet. Once standing, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side protectively and holds your hand in his other one. "Let's get you home," he whispers softly into your ear. "Move!" he growls to the bystanders who immediately make way as he leads you to the carriage.

*****

Marcus is at a complete loss. He still doesn't know what the hell just happened? One moment you're sitting beside him, seemingly unbothered and the next you look like you've seen a ghost. When he found you shaking and crying his heart almost fell to pieces. In all the time he's known you and everything you've been through together, he's never seen you look so destroyed, so tormented. Your raw vulnerability ignited something primal in him; a surge of intent to protect you, and not just from what ghosts still haunt you but from prying eyes. He can still feel the remnants of his anger as he casts his mind back to how people looked at you in your anguish. Guilt eats away at him. I should have done more. He'd hoped that once you were alone you'd unburden yourself; what he didn't expect was for you to shut down completely and that scares him more than anything.

He's seen too many times, with his men, the devastating impact traumatic experiences can have on the mind and he'll be damned if he lets that happen to you. He'd tried his best during the carriage ride to get something, anything out of you but all he received was silence and a blank stare, as if he wasn't even there. You'd muttered something about being tired upon arrival at the villa and have been locked away in your room ever since. Over the hours any attempts to get you to come out were futile. By dinner time Marcus was at the end of his tether. The lunch he'd personally delivered to your door remained untouched, meaning you hadn't eaten since breakfast. Concern and frustration churn inside him until he can't take it anymore.

"Alia...?" Marcus taps lightly on your door, trying the doorhandle again. Still locked. "Will you unlock the door?" he hums through the wood. Silence, except for the odd sniffle. Marcus pinches the bridge of his nose, summoning his remaining patience. "You've been in here all day. You haven't touched the food I left for you... Please, I'm really worried." The silence is suffocating! Sighing, Marcus pulls a ring of keys from his pocket. "If you won't unlock the door, I will," he warns as he fumbles to find the spare key for your chambers. Before he can find it, the door clicks and opens halfway. The sight before him guts him. Red rimmed eyes, heavy and puffy from crying rise to meet his, nose and cheeks blotchy and shoulders pulled inward, making you look small and fragile. Marcus' fingers twitch by his sides as he fights the urge to reach out and take you into his arms, afraid you'd not welcome his comfort right now.

"Hi, can I come in...?" he asked tentatively. "I'm tired, Marcus," you sigh, beginning to close the door but Marcus quickly presses his palm to it, holding it open. "Talk to me," he implores. "Whatever it is, just tell me. Let me help." "There's nothing you can do," you mumble sadly. Marcus exhales loudly. "Then at least come to dinner. You haven't eaten all day," he points to the tray of untouched food by your door. "I'm sorry... I'm not hungry," you shake your head, trying again to close the door. Marcus pushes it further open. "It wasn't a request," he spoke firmly, all softness now absent from his voice. He now has the commanding tone of a general and a stern look to accompany it. "I'm not going to allow you to starve yourself." When you just stare back at him, he crosses his arms, putting his foot against the door. "I could just bring the food up here and stay in this room until you eat." You exhale tiredly, mumbling "Okay," and follow him to the Triclinium.

The room is silent, heaviness pressing in from all directions, or maybe the heaviness just shrouds you; at this point it's hard to tell. The only sounds are the clinking of cutlery on the plates and the chirp of Cicadas through the open windows. Sitting in perpetual numbness, eyes cast down, you subconciously push the food around your plate with your fork, appitite non existent. The few mouthfuls you'd managed felt like a monumental task. And the whole time you could feel Marcus' eyes burning into you, watching your every move. "You need to eat more," he pressed gently. You remain silent. How can you eat when your stomach is in knots? When the guilt and shame of that day has now returned with a vengance. As unbearable as it is though, you know you deserve this - maybe as a sort of justice? After all, you're the reason your dearest friend is dead.

"Alia..." your gaze lifts to Marcus, sitting across the table. "You know you can tell me anything, no matter how terrible it is. I can't bare to see you hurting like this." You shake your head, lowering your eyes to your plate. "I can't," you whisper. Marcus turns his attention to Cassia and Flavia, who are standing by the wall. "You two can go." "Yes, Dominus," they reply and bow before leaving. "It's just us now," Marcus soothed. "I promise there's nothing you could say or do that could make me see you any differently, if that's what you're worried about." "You say that but if you knew..." your words trail off, voice catching in your throat. "Then tell me. Help me to understand-" "Marcus, please!" your head rears up, fork clutched in your hand. Snapping at Marcus was unintentional and you instantly regret it.

Softening your voice, you continue, "I know you mean well but please just... stop." Marcus observed you for a moment, the intensity in his features easing. "Okay.." he replied placatingly. "...But if and when you're ready to talk, know I'm here for you." Nodding, you give him a weak smile and stand. "I have a headache. I'm going to go lay down." It's obvious Marcus wants to say more but is holding his tongue for your sake. As you walk past him, you stop and lay your hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," you smile appreciativly hoping Marcus knows how grateful you are for his support. Marcus takes you hand in his and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your palm. "If you need anything..." "I know," you nod. "Goodnight, Marcus." "Goodnight, Alia."

*****

"No, please! It's my fault, let him go!" you scream, desperately fighting to rise from your knees, but strong hands hold you in place, forcing you to watch. Faro is on his knees in front of you, swaying unsteadily, blood and bruises littering his handsome face. He gives you a weak smile, his eyes showing acceptance of what is about to happen to him. The entire village has gathered to bare witness. Adhelm, joined by Kuno and Bardulf stand beside Faro, addressing the whole community. "This is what becomes of those who do not heed the rules. As you all now well, the punishment for this offense is death!" Adhelm declared in an icy tone. "No, I beg you, spare him. Punish me. It's all my fault!" Tears stream down you cheeks, stinging the cuts on your face.

Adhelm sharply turns his gaze to you, fire burning in his eyes. "You will be punished, you little whore..." he spat in disgust, "but first you will witness the consequences of your sordid actions." Adhelm nods at Bardulf, who draws his seax (dagger) and comes to stand directly behind Faro. Gripping him by his blond hair, Bardulf roughly pulls Faro's head back, exposing his neck. "My son!" a frantic screech errupts from the crowd as Faro's mother bursts forward, only to be restarined by Adhelms guards. "Mercy, mercy please! Don't kill him, he's just a boy!" You'll never forget the sound of a mother's grief as it sices through your heart. This is all your fault. You brought this wrath upon both of you. "He violated our law. Let this be a lesson to you all..."

Adhelm waved his hand at Bardulf to continue. Bardulf pressed the saex to Faro's throat, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. "Stoooop!" Your body automatically lunges forward in a last ditch attempt to free yourself but you are violently pulled back. This can't be happening. Not him, not Faro! With a sickening grin, Bardulf slowly drags his blade across your only friends' throat, blood gushing down his front. "Nooo! Faro! Arrrrgh!" The guttural scream that left you almost tore your vocal chords apart, scratching the insides of your throat raw. The men holding you let go of your arms, allowing you to crash to the ground. Your breaths are ragged and it feels like your lungs will collapse in on themselves any moment. You want to die too, you want to go with him! The sudden feeling of hands shaking you leaves you momentarily confused. No one is holding you. A voice you'd recognise anywhere calls out to you like a beacon in all this hell. It seems far away but it's unmistakable.

"Alia, wake up, wake up! Open your eyes!" Your eyes snap open and you shoot upright, chest heaving and skin clammy. There's no village, no screaming, no blood. Just a dimly lit room and the quiet of the night. Marcus is beside you, hands still grasping your arms. "It was just a dream," he assured you, his voice a low murmur. "You're safe." A gut wrenching sob broke free and you buried your face in your hands as years of guilt and heartache overflowed with your tears. "Hey, it's okay... Oh my sweet girl, just let it out," Marcus whispered softly as he took your trembling body into his arms, your head cradled against his chest. He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head and gently rocked you back and forth as you completely fell apart, your hands now gripping his tunic and tears soaking his clothes.

It took all his strength to keep his own emotions in check. Never has he heard such visceral despair from anyone in all his life and it has shaken him to his core. If it was possible, he'd happily draw all the pain and sorrow from your body and absorb it into his own so you'd never have to suffer like this ever again. For the hundredth time today, Marcus finds himself wondering just what horrors lurk in your past to affect you this severely, and if there's anything he can do to ease the torment. You don't know how long you've been tucked into Marcus' embrace but right now it's the only thing keeping you from losing your damn mind. His warmth, the rhythm of his heartbeat, his deep voice vibrating in his chest, the strength in his arms as they hold you with such tender care; it all grounds you, strengthens you, serves as an anchor in stormy waters.

He makes you feel safe and it's that assurance of safety that enables you to finally speak of that day. "It's all my fault," you whimper, almost like a whisper. "What is?" Marcus asked. "All of it. He's dead because of me." "Who?" Marcus cautiously prods. "I heard you calling for someone. Faro...?" At the mention of his name another wave of grief crashes over you, tears spilling again. "Tell me," Marcus encouraged you gently. "H- he was my best friend, my only friend. Even when everyone else turned against me he never did. H- he was the only good thing left in my life..." Marcus sat in silence, stroking up and down your arm, giving you all the time you needed. "When we grew older out relationship... changed. Adhelm forbade any man from courting and marrying me because he was afraid that any children I bore would be like me, a "Seer," you scoffed at the last word.

"So, we kept it a secret. We planned to leave the village when we were old enough, try to find another community far from our village," you paused, sniffling. "We weren't as careful as we thought. Someone discovered our relationship and..." you sigh, closing your eyes. "It's okay, take your time," Marcus hummed soothingly. With a shuddering breath, you continue, "He was exectued in front of the whole village and I was forced to watch. The man you fought by the river, Bardulf, he grinned at me while he slit his throat!" Another torrent of tears began to fall. "God's above!" Marcus cursed, holding you tighter. "I- I loved him and I got him killed!" "No!" Marcus declared, cupping your cheek and forcing you to look up into his face, fury flashing in his eyes. "This is not your fault! You didn't get him killed. They did it. You're not responsible for their actions, do you hear me?"

"I was selfish," you lamented. "If I hadn't got involved with him like that he'd still be alive." "You're not selfish for loving somone. Dangerous or not he chose to be with you, which says a lot about how much you meant to him," Marcus pointed out, hoping his words can help ease your pain. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, neither of you deserved that," he pressed another kiss to your temple. "And you never should have had to carry this guilt around with you. How can I help you?" Marcus whispered. "Just you being here helps," you answer, burying your face in his neck, breathing in his scent. "Thank you." Marcus sighed, "You don't have to thank me, sweetheart. This is what I'm here for; to take care of you." Marcus felt your shoulders relaxing as your breathing calmed a little. "Could you... um... never mind," You sheepishly shake your head. "Could I what? What do you need?" Marcus coaxed you delicately.

Your gaze meets his again, your bottom lip worried between your teeth. "Could you... stay with me?" Marcus' brows raised in surprise. "Just until I fall asleep," you quickly clarify. "I... I don't want to be alone," your words left you in a whisper filled with exhaustion and defeat, the sounds a crushing weight in Marcus' chest. "Of course I will." He laid down on his back, opening his arms to you. You didn't hesitate to snuggle into his warm body. Marcus held you securely, peppering kisses to your forehead and whispering reassurances until your breathing shallowed and you finally fell asleep. He stayed for a time while you slept fitfully in his arms, occasionally stirig and whimpering and each time he sooted your troubled mind by holding you closer and gently whispering "Shhh". Damn these people. Damn all of them! he seethed inwardly. If there's any justice in this world the god's would strike them dead for what they've done to you. The only comfort now is knowing hundreds of miles seperate you from them and they'll never get to hurt you again.

Series Masterlist Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10

@bbyanarchist @myownwholewildworldwhole @imherefordeanandbones @picketniffler @h0w-1-wanna-l1v3 @chrissy-forfucksakes-wakeup @meetmeatyourworst @yorksgirl @joeldjarin @echo-ethe @whirlwindrider29 @abbyanarchist @suzyface @missadangel @evyiione @longlivekingminnn @heramj @javiismyhsbnd @kxthxrinx0310 @inept-the-magnificent @liciafonseca @marrowfrog00 @moompie @anoverwhelmingdin @negrita2345

[ravenwriter16]

I'm sure the "where do baby's come from" question has popped up when the princess was little. But what about if there was a pregnant servent and lil y/n wanted to feel the baby kick. Wonder if the dad's be jealous or encouraging.

Eclipse: *Cross his arms with a sigh* I will admit, there was a time when Star was still a small babe, she witnessed one of her maids going through the thralls of motherhood. We couldn't exactly banish the poor woman because our little one got curious. Especially in such a state in her life.

Sun: *Smiles* Star was very VERY curious! She thought the maid has eaten one too many pieces of candies! Heh...

Moon: And of course, she wanted to know ALL about what was happening. The maid, bless her heart, took the time to answer her questions and even let her feel her belly.

Sun: And although we were a TAD jealous--

Eclipse: VERY. We were VERY jealous. Star spent more time away from us and we didn't QUITE like that...

Sun: But the look of joy on her face whenever she came to tell us what she had learn was one we will treasure always!

Moon: *Nods* We wouldn't change anything...

***

Star: *Raises a brow* Huh? When one of the maids were pregnant?...Yeah I...I liked learning about it. She...she helped me open my eyes to a lot of things...

[lazyboy-baby]

HEYA!!!

some redesigns of the Lord Sun and Servant Eclipse, because i want to and i'm also having a brain rot about them.

Anyway, now i actually know wtf i'm doing with them, soo that's neat

bonus of the gays:

[noinoi10101010]

How ruin found out about servant's crush

Ruin: "is this about the picture of solar you keep in your pocket?"

Servant sun: "*Blushes and looks at him in fear* you...you've seen my my pocket?"

Ruin: "stop deflecting the picture of him with a small heart drawn on it. What's the deal with you to?"

Servant sun: "i-i..."

Ruin:"..........you do know that it won't last. Especially if he knew you were the traitor. "

Servant sun: "i know but......*takes out the picture and looks at it.*"

Ruin: "...........look to give you some words of advice. I recommend to not get to attached trust me it will hurt less that way."

Servant sun: "......I i'll still do anything to make sure he is safe."

Ruin: "you'll get yourself kille-"

Servant sun: "I DON'T CARE.......... he actually protected me and stood up for me, he-he...actually cares about me. I Don't care if I need to die in order for him and the others to be safe. I-i'd do anything for him."

Ruin: "Servant you should know damn well you'l-"

Servant sun: "SO WHAT SHOULD I DO! Just abandon him like how you did to rusted."

Ruin: "*he is shocked and at a loss of words his anger growing as he takes a breath and walks away but not before saying to servant* servant I am warning you for a reason your in a death game. And love only gets you killed in a game like this don't be so careless and let your love blind you.....it's best someone like me tells you this."

@goodolddumbbanana @catspawcreates @lednet-sorrow-au-blog @doodledrawz @dolce-cerise @cosmossnake @multifandomcutie13 @weirdcoregal35 @sillyzone1209 @silly-a-777

[tsbs-shipfessions]

Lonely sun x servent sun…..2 sun that have endured a lot of stuff and they are a soft cheesy romance of them cuddling and play fights and looking at the stars

[bitterkarmaa]

GO, MY FRIENDS!! TODAY IS THE DAY!!

[revisitingfandoms]

Idea prompt 12- A midsummer night's longing.

(Based kinda off the project bud by @luvielolol. Go check it out!)

(Honestly- I don't know if this more prompt or story blurb, lol.)

It was largely understood. Faerie cookies were created to be the right hands and servents of the virtues. Of course, not all Faerie cookie were this way, but that was their choice and shadow milk would be a fool to begrude them.

Afterall, a number of them when to seek themselves and that was knowledge on its own. Part of him almost wanted to join a few of them- wanting to see their growth, their change and watch them shift and change and-

Shadow Milk shook his head, "Ah- I shall have to put that off, the festivial is important." Part of him looked forward to the festivial- the other half hated having to attend.

The Joy on cookies face was a delight, but dealing with the formalities? The planning? The worshipping? Shadow Milk would rather not.

He had very little problems with planning- infact planning quite often a mental test he quite enjoyed, but the more... formal aspects he could do without.

But of those formalities, their was only one he truly enjoyed. Performed by the very faeries who served under him.

The Faerie Soiree.

A celebration in the form of dnace. A colorful, beautiful enchanting dance. A glorious movement of storytelling, of speaking in beautiful riddles and twisting truths.

Of all things; Shadow Milk loved the Soiree.

Althought he hated the aftermath.

The Soiree had been almost the same as last years which was.. dissappointing at first. But- It was different.

He couldn't stop his eyes the moment he spotted the blonde dancer with closed eyes.

The blonde hair had been what first caught his attention. Faeries didn't typically have blonde hair- in fact he has never seen a Faerie with blonde hair until now.

Yet after a moment after he had quickly noted the lack of Faerie wings. Just considering that fact the blonde Faerie was more then likely only half-Faerie. Which although uncommon, wasn't impossible. Just an oddity.

Yet he couldn't keep his eyes off that dancing Faerie.

He couldn't tell the direct gender of that Faerie- if they had one. They looked danity, each step was in tune with the rest- but yet mixed with a slow movement at the same time. Mere half seconds off, they adjusted well to the rest but they still moved slow.

A delicate step forward in line, the moving green silk ribbion ends flowing their moves as they enter a twirl and as they come back to face the audience- shadow milk can feel his breath being stolen.

Unfocused but so very gorgorous eyes. His right glittering like the sun had given part of itself to shine in eye, his blue like the soft tides of the ocean as they crashed softly against a beaches shore.

His mind as so stuck on this- Witches he doesn't have the correct word for them.

The green long loose sleeves that lose green ribbons were held onto were like dancing willow leaves. The white under shirt and dancing trousers- not even mentioning the twisting jewelry of white vines on the green robe- only made them seem to glow.

They weren't even one of the main dancers- merely a backup. Yet, he was unknowling stealing the show and planting them at shadow milk front thoughts.

"Them," He mindessly says to his nearby attendent, "I want Them."

Its after a moment before he spots the Faerie look upon blonde dancer and then bow with a tone of hestiantance speaks, "It shall be done by lord."

He silently mourned the loss of the blonde dancer upon the end, before remembering what he had mindlessly spoken and felt conflicted.

The Aftermath of the Soiree typically ended in one of two ways. Either a Faerie would be picked from the performers over the course of the festivial by himself or one of the other beasts or none would be picked.

The picked Faerie would end up on of three ways; Typically only the first two had happened, the third had yet to be used.

The first would be spending the night as a, in better words, bedpartner. The second, would be as a compainion, to simply be there for comfort or as a call upon for things of other natures.

The third was for a lifetime partnership. For the Faerie to be seen as a true partner and to be wedded to that virtue.

He understood for Faeries it meant quite a bit for their social standing yet he never quite felt comfortable with just picking a Faerie as a partner- muchless a bedpartner! In fact this was the first time he ever picked a Faerie from the festivial!

Throughout his time waiting, he was a mix of impatient, eager and apprehensive. Just what- or rather who was this blonde half-Faerie who had taken over his mind.

His mind was interuptted with a knock at the door, his festival attentent bows to him, "My lord, the... Faerie has arrived." He notes the hestiance at the word Faerie- only more evidence to his half-Faerie theory then.

Witches, Faerie cookies are so prickly at times with their own kind. Some cookie doesn't act a certain way? Outcasted. Isn't good at what are considered standard Faerie skills? Mistreated. Not completely Faerie- or not even raised in their general culture?

Well. Almost always they never go into Faerie society and if they do, they typically leave it.

His eyes linger on the blonde with closed eyes as they enter the room and bow to him, "Greetings, my lord." Gentle, yet warm. Quiet, yet can easily fill a room.

Something in his mouth is dry as he looks upon the new outfit the other was in. He wore a similar outfit to the one on stage. The same white pants and undershirt, but with a green leaf like top with wrapping vines around his wait and those leaf overtop sleeves meeting right at the edge of his long white sleeves. There seemed to be an odd live yellow flower with a- is that an eye thats blinking?

He chuckle aloud, this halfling just gets more and more interesting.

He waves his hand to his attentant, "Leave us, I call if needed."

The Faerie nods- but he notices they look they give the blonde Faerie. He can't stop the frown that forms on his face at that action. He turns back to the still bowing Blonde. He motions for them to rise- but they don't seem to immediately act. Shadow milk is a bit confused before he speaks, "Rise please, and take a seat on the chair to the next of me."

The other raises without question and slowly making their way to the chair- he notes closed eyes and the blinking flower, but also the way the other feels the room as they walk to the seat. As they take their seat, they sit, hands in their lap, looking the picture of manners.

He offers a tea cup to them, "I am quite curious about you, would you answer my questions, perhaps?" After a good moment the other takes the tea cup and takes a small hestiant sip- no, not quite hestiant. Cautious.

The other speaks in that soft, yet ringing tone, "I am Pure Vanilla Cookie, My lord. It would be an honor to answer your questions."

Pure Vanilla Cookie, he thinks with a smile, what a lovely name. Flows right off the tounge. He hums, "Well then, my dear, I hope you are perpared, I am quite the curious one."

Pure Vanilla, he thinks in the aftermath of the festivial, is a spirited, knowledgable, kind and lovely cookie.

He comes from a small farming village as a sherpard. He was taken in a baby by a sherpard named Brown sugar cookie. He learned he was good with healing magic at an early age when he healed one of the herd. He loved reading, although he struggles to read most things with his poor eyesight. His blinking flower was something he funneled magic into to be able to see temporarily. When one of the younger cookies of the festivial bumped into him, he immeditaly made sure they were okay- healing their scraps as he did.

Yet, he was distant, he was hestiant and he was careful. Perhaps he held an ex-lover? Or even with an even higher likelihood the other Faeries were giving him problems. He even confirmed the pure vanilla was half Faerie as he thought.

Yet as twirls the green flower in his hand that pure vanilla had caught during the festivals flower throwing. He can't help his mind.

Pure vanilla, he thinks.

I want him to be mine.

[whereserpentswalk]

There's a city built around an ancient skeleton of an eldritch nightmare, some sort of giant serpent with many heads. They say the skeleton used to have metal armor, but back when metal was harder to come by it was stripped to make spearheads and armor.

The skeleton doesn't do much, and it acts as a natural fortification, so most people don't really question it. Some of the residents of the city, especially from the older and more secretive noble families, worship the skeleton as a spirit of the land. The local priests don't like that they do that, but it's not heresy as long as it's not considered more important then their gods.

Ancient myths have a lot of strange explanations for the skeleton, from it being a dragon that was struck down by the sun god and moon goddess. To it being a servent of the underworld worshiped by the people who lived in this land before its current residents. To it being a patron of the current people of the land, who died protecting them from an army of demons.

There are some residents who live within the bones because there's nowhere else in the city they can go. Foreigners, petty criminals, sex workers, people who've been disowned by their families. Their apartments and houses are in-between an uneven forest of strange an unknowable bones.

And sometimes, for the people who only the bones protect, the outcasts within the skeleton, an old ghost whispers to them, and an image of a many headed serpent in their minds. It calls for them to keep their spirits high and their blades sharp, when the city guards come stalking through the skeleton it calls for them to defend their honer, and when it comes time, it will call for revolution, and the bones many grow their skin again.