#the 'meadow' part threw me

[rpepperpotshipssciencebros]

I was about to say, "This is Meadowlark Lemon erasure" and then I realized those are, in fact, a bird and a fruit. I need a nap.

[mother-above]

All the Time in the World

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and his family are reminded that even fae don't have all the time in the world.

*I've made some edits! (nothing major)

Warnings: fluff, angst, death, swearing, grief (this is my formal apology to you all)

*masterlist*

Everything happens for a reason.

Those are five words people say to cope and rationalize why bad or good things happen. Azriel, Rhysand, Cassian, Morrigan, and Amren are no strangers to those five words. They thought about it daily, sometimes it was their first thought after waking up. You were always in their dreams, sometimes frolicking in a meadow, they wouldn’t see your face, but they knew your body, how your hair blew in the wind, how your arms lifted to feel the sun's warmth. Sometimes you were the main character of their dreams. So vibrant and full of life while tugging their hands to make them hurry and keep up with you whether it was running errands in Velaris or on a mission.

Sometimes, they would whisper, “Everything happens for a reason” before they slept. They would go about their day and even if it were filled with love, happiness, and laughter there was always a missing piece, a void that could never be filled. 

You were an enigma. So powerful, so enchanting, the nobles in Hewn City knew to keep you hidden away. But someone like you could never go unnoticed, especially when you could manipulate the elements. You’d been surrounded by earth and rock all your life. You just knew there was something more, you felt it when you touched the granite walls, the stone told you of the sun beating down, of the wind and water that battered the outer layers of the mountain. 

Fae with your powers could never be contained for too long, the Court of Nightmares was a prison you were bound to escape. The nobles trained you like a warrior, Keir hoped to use you to usurp the High Lord, but he acted too late, your power had grown.

When Rhysand became High Lord, he caught wind of your presence, a flourishing beacon of power trapped underground. Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian took it upon themselves to investigate where this power was coming from. When they landed on the mountain, they were met by a female who paid no attention to the Illyrian warriors. 

Your head was thrown back as you savored the hot kiss of the sun for the first time. Around you was granite rubble, and when they looked fifty feet to the right, a gaping hole came straight from the mountain's depths. You had dug yourself out and the Illyrians had no idea how.

Finally acknowledging the three brothers, you eyed the male with violet irises. “They told me your name is Rhysand. That I have to kill you.”

Azriel and Cassian’s siphons flared as they drew their weapons and pointed them menacingly toward you.

That was the first time you met the young High Lord and his brothers. All it took was for Rhysand to read your unguarded mind to see what you are and how you’ve been raised. To Azriel and Cassian’s surprise, Rhysand invited you to live with them. Shortly after that, you were acquainted with Morrigan who you’ve seen around before, and this ancient creature named Amren. The six of you became a family that supported each other through thick and thin. Under their care, you developed your powers and could manipulate nature's elements in any way you could imagine. 

Your type of power has never been seen before and you were dangerous only when you needed to be. Despite your rough upbringing, you were good, you were the sunshine that graced every room you entered. The only unstable part of you was how your moods could sway the environment around you, like the time that idiotic male cheated on you, and landslides affected the mountains around Illyria. On your 250th birthday, the inner circle threw you a surprise party and you were so happy, the next few days were unusually warm and sunny for the middle of winter. There was also that time Cassian pissed you off during training for pushing you too hard, a bolt of lightning and thunder cracked right above the House of Wind’s training ring. You don’t think you’ve heard Cassian scream like that before.

One would think the High Lords of the other courts hated you, but they didn’t. Yes, you were a threat because you were another powerful individual who was loyal to Rhysand, but they couldn’t hate you, it was impossible to. Amren credited you for being the reason the other courts haven’t waged war on the Night Court, your presence was soothing, and you had a way to compromise like no other. You were such a good courtier that Beron tolerated you. It also didn’t help that your laughter was infectious, Thesan and Helion made sure you were invited to every big event.

You were accomplished, sociable, and a capable elemental manipulator but you always thought your greatest achievement was bringing Azriel out of his shell. At first, the shadowsinger was apprehensive about you living with them but that quickly changed, his shadows found you interesting and you coaxed him out of the shadows. In a way, he felt obligated to help you, all your life was spent in Hewn City and even then, you were more isolated than Morrigan. He knew you were stuck in the darkness, and he wanted to show you the light. At the time, he didn’t know he needed you more.

Azriel loved to replay the memory of taking you on your first flight tour of Velaris, you gripped his neck and shoulders as you shrieked in glee. He would never be able to forget how your scent overwhelmed him that day, pine and cherry blossoms forever embedded in his consciousness. He landed by the Sidra, and you leaped from his arms and headed straight to the water. You slipped the sandals off and dipped your toes into the cool water and a wide grin spread across your face. 

“Azriel! Come here!”

He obliged, he found it difficult to say no to you. He stood by the bank and found comfort from the sound of rushing water. All was calm until water splashed his shirt, and his eyes snapped open to see you with a mischievous smile, perfect spheres of water floated above your hands. With a flick of your wrist, they collided with his body, the water sticking his black shirt onto his muscular torso. You had approximately 2 seconds to admire him before a large splash headed your way. Azriel grinned as he watched you stand there in shock. 

“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” smirked Azriel. 

Then the water fight started and the two of you never gave up, it was elemental magic versus a strapping warrior. You called a truce and both of you walked to the townhouse soaking wet, Mor wouldn’t let you into the house till you stopped dripping so you and Azriel sat on the front steps and watched faeries of all kinds pass by. Azriel caught himself smiling at you whenever you talked, he felt safe with you, like you would never judge him for his scars or dark past. He found it easy to talk to you, you never pressured him to talk like his brothers and Mor would do. Over time, one glance was all it took for you to understand what he needed.

The two of you danced around each other for decades, neither of you brave enough to take the next step. You saw Rhysand and Cassian as your brothers but when it came to Azriel, it felt different, there was unspoken tension, a different love that ran deep and made you blush. Every time he brought a female home, jealousy filled you and the clouds became grey and stormy. Azriel felt the same way when you started dating. No one ever stuck for more than a few months, but he hated every one of the males, they would never be good enough for you. What stung the most was Azriel didn’t think he was good enough for you either. 

One day, you and Morrigan were sitting at the table having breakfast. She remembers this day so clearly because she had never seen you blush that color red. Azriel stopped by to eat a banana before training, Morrigan watched you not so discreetly check Azriel out in his Illyrian leathers. When he was done eating, Azriel threw you a wink before he bounded up the stairs to the training ring.

“Have you guys fucked yet?”

You choked on the yogurt causing you to have a coughing fit. “Mor!” you hissed. “Why would you ask that?”

“The two of you work well together, you understand each other.”

You shrugged as you drank water. “He’s my best friend, how else am I supposed to act around him?”

Mor looked at you incredulously. “Do best friends check each other out? Give each other massages after a long mission? Lay their heads on each other’s laps when they read? Kiss each other on the cheek constantly? Fall asleep together on the couch? Do they-”

“Okay!” you exclaimed. “You’ve made your point!”

Your cheeks and ears were cherry red, they burned as you stared at your breakfast.

“The two of you are single right now. I think you should tell him how you feel. Azriel… is Azriel, I think he’s too scared to make the first move, he’s always been more insecure,” said Mor. 

“What if he says no and I ruin our entire relationship?”

Mor looked at your beautiful features and softly laughed. “He would be lying to himself.”

A week later, you finally dared to talk to Azriel about your feelings. He was standing on the balcony nursing a glass of whiskey, staring at the distant storm clouds. You leaned against the railing and looked at him, your heart pounding.

“Are you okay?” Azriel focused on you, his eyes scanning for anything amiss. 

You breathed deeply and fully turned to him. “Azriel… you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t want to change a thing, but I want more and… I think you do too.”

Azriel stared at you, his eyes wide as he tried to convince himself that this wasn’t a dream. 

“Oh, gods. You don’t feel the same way and I just ruined everything, haven’t I?” Your hands covered your face as you spun around to make a run for it.

Scarred hands clamped down on your shoulders and moved you to face him. Gently peeling your hands away from your cherry-red face, he smiled as his hands cupped your cheek. “You didn’t give me time to process.” 

Your lips parted in shock. “So you want more?”

Azriel leaned closer to you, his breath blowing across your face. “I want to be with you.”

Going on your toes, you met him halfway. He remembered how soft your lips were, how you tasted like the wine you had been drinking to gather your courage. Your arms wound around his neck to pull him in closer, his large hands grabbed your waist and lifted you to sit on the railing.

A giggle stopped him from kissing you. “I might fall!”

Azriel’s arms wrapped around your body. “Then I’ll catch you.”

You beamed at him and Azriel’s heart felt full, you were the light he had been chasing all his life. He pressed his lips against yours and you melted against him, a small moan of contentment escaped your lips and Azriel grinned. He needed to hear that sound from you again.

“Ahem.”

You leaned to the side to see Amren smirking at the two of you. “Fucking finally. I thought we’d have to wait two hundred more years for this to happen.”

Azriel growled. “Is there a reason why you’re interrupting us?”

“High Lord Kallias sent out a distress message, I don’t know what kind of emergency so be prepared for anything. We leave in 5 minutes.”

Azriel let out a frustrated sigh and laid his head on your shoulder. “Such bad timing.”

Your fingers went to stroke the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I know,” you purred. “We can finish this when we get back. We’ll talk more about our future and what we want.”

Azriel lifted himself and looked in your gaze, so warm and full of life. The pad of his thumb ran over your bottom lip and that’s when he felt it. That golden thread unraveled itself and snapped into place. He was startled as he looked at you, your features oblivious to the mate bond.

He blinked as he realized it had yet to snap for you. You looked at him with so much adoration that for once in his life, he didn’t doubt your feelings. Your eyebrows scrunched when you noticed a shift within Azriel.

“Nothing,” he said as he pecked your cheek and helped you down from the railing. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Okay, we have all the time in the world,” you said as you tugged his arm to get ready. 

How the enemy was able to transport a Middengard worm to Winter Court still made faeries scratch their heads to this day. There were also enemy soldiers to worry about, but Rhysand ordered you to help with the monster. According to Rhysand, it was the largest he had ever seen, and its skin was thick and impenetrable. It was getting closer to the city and no matter what the courts shot at it, it never faltered. You joined Kallias and the other fae with ice-manipulation powers to do anything to get the worm away from the city. You slammed a foot down onto the ground and the frozen earth shot upwards hundreds of feet into the sky, creating a barrier for the city. 

Kallias grinned at you, and you threw him a wink, you loved using your powers. Running full force toward the worm, you conjured large razor-sharp spears from the snow and made them jut out in the ground in hopes the Middengard would impale itself. It turned out you all severely underestimated the creature, it grew in height and then slammed itself onto the earth allowing it to burrow and move underground. Your jaw dropped in horror as it quickly made its way to the city, the wall you built would not be able to withstand its power. You looked at the gleaming lights of the city and your heart dropped. There were millions of faeries in danger. 

Your mind whirred as you looked at all your options and the only thing you could think of didn’t look too good for you.

Rhysand could still remember the panic he felt when his Daemati talons slammed against your thoughts. You were so concentrated; your mental walls were halfway down. 

Please don’t do that! It’s too dangerous, there must be another way.

Rhysand’s fae sight let him see your soft smile, your eyes already lined with silver tears.

That’s a whole city, Rhys. you would do the same. Thank you for everything. Tell Azriel I love him.

Rhysand started screaming your name but that didn’t stop you from sprinting toward the Middengard and getting as close as you could. The moment you could detect the worm underneath you, you let out a strangled scream as you used every ounce of your power. Your arms were lifted and when your hands tightened into fists, the earth around you and the worm caved inwards. The giant earth wall that blocked the city crumbled down as you used all the materials available to bury yourself and the Middengard into the depths of Hel. 

High Lord Kallias will never forget the sounds of your family screaming for you, he could still hear it in his nightmares. He remembered Morrigan throwing up and the spymaster dumbfoundedly staring into the soil you disappeared in. 

*** 

Your death shattered the inner circle’s life, they were never able to recover your body making them feel even worse. It was too deep into the earth; the High Lords couldn’t even sense the Middengard worm.  Amren had stayed behind to guard Velaris, so she was the last one to find out. No one had ever seen Amren cry but when her family winnowed in without you, looking shaken and pale, she crumpled onto the floor and let out a wail that shook the townhouse. Rhysand built a beautiful memorial for you by the edge of the city, and upon Azriel’s request, it was placed near the Sidra. 

Everything had turned upside down. It rained for a whole month, and it certainly helped no one's mood. The day you died became a court holiday, the people of Velaris mourned you, even some in Illyria and Hewn City. Every year on your death anniversary, the High Lords came to visit your memorial, they brought flowers or expensive bottles of wine that you liked. Tamlin never showed up, but he always sent a courtier to deliver an extravagant wreath made of spring flowers bursting with color. You had once complimented the peonies that lined his estate and he never forgot about it. 

Every time Azriel opened his eyes in the morning, he wished for sleep because, in his dreams, you were still alive. Your favorite phrase in the world was “Everything happens for a reason”, it helped you cope with your childhood and the inner circle had adopted it as their mantra. Azriel hated it. He refused to believe that what happened to you was written in the stars. He hated that you had to sacrifice yourself. Why you? Why his mate? He had loved you for so long yet so much time was wasted on others when you could have been together. The pain he felt when the golden thread disappeared was unlike anything he had felt before. Azriel thought he was dead until he saw the earth cave in with you in the middle of it. His shadows were screaming but he was numb, he couldn’t believe you were gone just like that.

Azriel swore the birds had stopped singing in Velaris, his family thought he was crazy but then they noticed it too. There were these songbirds that sang every morning and if you heard it, you whistled back and they’d respond. It was like the natural world knew you were gone. Life without you was dull, the stars didn’t shine as bright, and the sky wasn’t as blue as it used to be. 

Like most things, time was the only remedy. With each year that passed, the pain slowly became bearable. Azriel was encouraged to see other people after a hundred years had gone by but nothing went past the first date, no one was ever going to compare to you. He couldn’t touch another female without feeling sick.

The inner circle had gone through so much since you died, and like clockwork, Cassian went to your memorial to sit and give you updates every week.

 ‘Rhys is stuck Under The Mountain. Azriel is being a pain in the ass about going to Illyria. Rhys came back from Under The Mountain. Azriel misses you. Rhys found his mate but she’s with Tamlin. Feyre threw a shoe at Rhysand. He met Feyre’s sisters. We miss you. A war with Hybern was coming. I have a suspicion my mate is Nesta Archeron. The High Lords are having a meeting and we all wish you could be there to contain everyone. I was forced to see Bryaxis, again.’

Sometimes Cassian came with other members of the family but most of the time, it was just him talking to you. 

One day, Rhysand brought Feyre to your memorial, and she gasped at how beautiful it was. Using his Daemati powers, he showed his mate his most precious memories of you. You had befriended a beast in the mountains of Illyria. It was a horned creature and Rhysand had almost obliterated the monster but your delighted laugh stopped him. Yes, the beast was running at you but Rhys failed to notice your outstretched arms and bright grin. You were never scared. 

Feyre squeezed Rhy’s hand as she admired the fresh flowers and gifts that were placed around.

“She was so beautiful and so kind-hearted. I wish I met her.”

“Me too,” he whispered. “You would have loved her.”

The war with Hybern was brutal. If you were still there, you would have tipped the scale and Prythian would have been winning from the get-go. Amren had to unbind herself from her body to save everyone, she was scared in her last few moments but then remembered how selfless and brave you were. The war was over but then Rhysand passed as well, sacrificing himself for the greater good, your last words to him ringing in his ears. 

Feyre begged the High Lords to revive her mate and they did, her anguish reminding them of the loss they all felt when a certain Night Court member had passed. With Rhysand alive, he nodded toward the Cauldron, telling them that Amren was there too. Morrigan and Varian fished her out and Amren came out sputtering and desperately trying to gain control of her body. She kept coughing up water, so she furiously pointed to the Cauldron. 

“What is it?” cried out Morrigan.

Silver tears started streaming down Amren’s face as she attempted to crawl. “I saw her, she’s in there!” she said desperately. “Get her out before she drowns!”

Every faerie looked at her like she was crazy. Who else would be in there? 

Her head swiveled around until she locked into Azriel’s gaze. “She is in there.”

Azriel’s legs carried him toward the Cauldron and not a second later, Morrigan joined him as they blindly reached in. Morrigan started swearing as she felt a limp arm in there, finding the torso, Azriel helped heave the body out of the Cauldron. The female's body thrashed as she coughed out all the water she had swallowed. The High Lords and their courts burst into chaos when Azriel brushed the female’s hair off her face.

Still dressed in Illyrian leathers, there you lay sprawled and gasping for air.

a/n: thank you for reading! please let me know what thought in the comments! xoxo

Part 2

[lady-ashfade]

Always In The Meadow

luke castellan x fem!reader

-£ I’m not even sorry for this

-£ words: 800

-£ warnings: blood, angst, no happy ending, book spoilers, show spoilers, killing, being stabbed, death, shadow & bone reference.

@targaryenluvs don’t hate me

it has been years since you met the troubled new kids to camp. they had survived on their own for months with nothing but each other and you could tell how bad they had it. alone, with only each other when the dark world of monsters tried to hunt you at every chance they got. that was a nightmare. then, they lost one for their own at the top of the hill after her father tried to save her from being killed, turning her into a tree.

but you seemed to get close to them after a while, a boy named Luke became your best friend. you were there when he cried, when he yelled, or when he laughed. his smile was captivating to your eyes, you liked the smile lines showing and how he looked. he was pretty, so pretty. and you were there when he got a dragon scar on his cheek. even comforted him for that too.

where one went the other followed and every camper knew that. you two blossomed together and grew more confident. everything you did was together. you even took annabeth under your wing quickly, you hated how small she was to go threw what she did.

it pained you to never notice his true Intentions.

“was it all acted?” your body grew tired from the fighting you had been doing. your sword held up in front of you with his pushing against yours.

his eyes didn’t look the same. you’ve seen everything he had to offer but this was new. a new man you’ve never seen before.

he pushed back with a groan as you feel onto the ground on your back with a pained expression. you couldn’t win. you’ve been trying for years to win against him but failed every the time. you were too caught up in his expression and handsome face. even now all you could do was admire him.

“no, i didn’t think i would come to this.” he admitted before swinging his sword down only for it to hit the dirt as you roll alway from the attack. you panted heavily and try to stand up before he could do anything else.

lifting your sword up at him. he looked at your pain eyed as blood and dirt covered your face. “you’ll have to kill me.” there was still the hope in side of you that he would stop and come back to your side. that’s all you ever wanted.

“only one of us can leave today,” his chest rosed and fell rapidly with sweat coming from his skin. “i wish it was different.” you both understood what had to happen and a second of peace was standing. looking at each other for one of the last times.

rushing forward you take a swing but he was quick to block, twirling his blade quickly and trying to give a blow back.

he wish he would have stopped, that this wasn’t necessary to happen. you had disarmed him of his blade. he looked up to you, as pretty as he remembers. the cold tip of your weapon pressing against his chin. “don’t make me do this.” you plead.

but you always had a weak spot. every time at camp you let your guard down and each time he’d end up winning. he was quick with it knowing he could stop if he saw your wide eyes look at him. so he grabbed the handle of your sword and onto of your hand to push it up, his knees inching up as his other hand met your abdomen.

you frozen and looked down. the sharp pain appearing after a second of being numb. you saw a dagger in his hands only the shiny part not able to be seen.

“luke?” you whispered as you knees became weak and started to fall back. his arms wrapped around you before you could hit the ground, your weapon falling next to you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” he started to cry and stand above you. his hand now covered into the blood leaking out of you. you grabbed ahold of him weakly.

“don’t let me die, please,” you started to cry yourself and try to stand up but your body wasn’t working with you.

“don’t move, stay still-” his voice crook as he tried to smile down at you, “that’s it beautiful.” he tried to praise you as your body becomes limp. your used your last strength to lift your hand up to his face and cup his cheek.

“meet me in the meadow.” you whispered as the last tear rolled to the side of your face into your hair. He could hear and feel the final breath you took as your heavy eyes shut and hand fell onto your chest.

he cried out and it echoed through the woods. he brought you closer to his chest and cradled you back and forth. his best friend was destined to die at his own hands.

his lips kissed your forehead, “always.”

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 15

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 4.7k

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

I drew inspiration for the story of the mating bond from the song "The Origin of Love" featured in the musical "Hedwig and the Angry Inch." Whenever the topic of the mating bond arises, this song comes to mind, and I extend my heartfelt gratitude to its creator. It never fails to move me to tears, and I am deeply thankful for its presence in my life. If you'd like to listen to the song, here's the link: The Origin of Love

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

As the cabin continued to be repaired, you found more time to wander into the woods, venturing far enough to need a tent, which you packed up and camped overnight in. About a day and a half’s walk from the cabin was a small village where lesser fae lived. Though small, it teemed with life, and the fae welcomed you warmly. None were familiar with the cabin you now called home, but they were eager to help with supplies to fix it up. An older fae female named Bettina, with long, flowing grey hair braided with flowers, traded you vegetable sprouts for an afternoon’s work in her garden. Another young woman with sunburnt cheeks and a babe strapped to her back traded you new fabrics for your collection of books.

Mortus, the village craftsman, was more challenging to trade with. He wanted nothing you had, but he was the keeper of glass panes and treated wood planks. He was an older fae male, his face weathered from harsh winters, yet he retained the youth of someone who had spent his life bathing in lakes and galloping through meadows. Knowing you couldn’t carry much through the woods, you promised to return with something of value to trade.

Returning home with your new items, you dropped them in the cabin, which remained untouched since you had left, and parsed through your bag. You found a set of hunting knives, many much too large for your purposes. The serrated one left your stomach in knots as you pushed out the memory of Anthea’s death. You wrapped them in their leather bindings and set back out to trade them. Mortus was happy with the trade, and upon your return, he packed a mule with the items you had requested. He threw in the mule because you had baked him five different breads with the fruit from the nearby bushes. He noted the mule was old and worthless, but you didn’t mind the company. You lovingly named him Clover, as he seemed to love munching on the leafy greens for hours on end. Though the day-and-a-half trip took three days due to Clover’s stubborn need to stop at every possible water source, you didn’t mind the company.

While you despised the life you had lived in the mountains, you didn’t mind the skills that came with it. You knew how to fix and mend without missing a beat, maximizing your use of nails and learning to use tree sap to seal wood slats. Within a few weeks, the cabin was almost livable. You even took an entire day to build Clover a small pen with branches, sticks, bark, and sap, hanging an oil lamp from the ceiling of the covered plank landing you had made. Clover merely watched as you dropped a pile of wood on your foot, cursing every word that came to mind as you hopped up and down. He just chewed his flowers and grunted at you for disturbing his peace and quiet.

By the time summer was in full swing, you had returned the cabin to its former glory. The roof was patched, and the glass panes of the windows were replaced with various colors. Mortus had given you the colored glass pieces at a cheaper price as he had a hard time transporting glass to and from Velaris. He mentioned going to the market every six months and offered to take you with him, but you politely declined. Your life was here now.

Though your skills in furniture building were limited, you managed to fix up the old rotten chairs for the kitchen table and crafted a small bedside table for the upper loft. Your biggest feat was creating a makeshift mattress from dried weeds and extra fabric. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was much better than sleeping on the hardwood. Your garden bloomed nicely, with zucchini and squash coming up in large batches. Berries from surrounding bushes were a happy addition to most meals.

You even conquered your squeamishness about trapping animals. You caught a few squirrels and rabbits with traps the village children taught you to create. While you still cried each time you landed a final blow, you used every part of the animal, even fashioning sewing needles from their bones to trade with the village females. You visited the village once every few weeks and became well-liked, with villagers storing items for your next return.

Your life seemed blissful. Though you couldn’t rid yourself of your mate, who still tormented you, you felt a sense of peace and self-sufficiency. However, you found it odd how shadows seemed to come and go within the cabin some nights. When evening turned the room deep purple, and you lit the oil lamps, shadows fluttered about with a mind of their own. While off-putting, it happened frequently enough with no ill effects that you almost forgot it happened at all.

In the heat of mid-August, you made another trip into the village and were met by a fae male who seemed to have taken a particular interest in you. Kai, a male about 20 years your senior, with a mop of brown hair often falling into his eyes, often accompanied you through the village, helping carry your supplies which he tied to the ever-resilient Clover. Kai had a kind face, speckled with freckles and crooked teeth, but his green eyes held nothing but kindness. He was strong from years spent working with his father chopping lumber to sell to craftsmen in the city. Kai was always willing to walk alongside you and asked after you constantly.

As you exited the cottage of Meriam, a fae female with five young children who often traded your baked goods for dried cotton, you found Kai running his hand over Clover, who seemed to almost roll his eyes at the interaction. Kai looked up at you with a lazy smile. “Hey.”

You bounded down the steps, your new boots slightly too large but lighter than your old ones. “Hi,” you smiled back.

“How are things?”

You tied the cotton sack to Clover, Kai handing you the lead. “Things are good. Just getting some stuff.”

“Want some help?” Kai asked.

You smiled, appreciating his consistent offer. “Sure.”

The two of you wandered down the dirt road, chickens running amok underfoot as Clover huffed, nearly stomping on one.

“How are things for you?” you asked him.

Kai nodded, “Good. Fished this morning, got a fairly good catch, lots of trout.”

You congratulated him on his catch.

“I’m going to cook them up tonight, if you wanted to stay for dinner.”

You considered the offer, rarely staying past early evening to make it to your first clearing to set up camp. “I don’t think I can. I have a long way home.”

Kai shrugged, his hand resting on Clover’s shoulder, which twitched away horseflies. “You could stay the night,” he offered.

You laughed, “I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Kai responded. “You could stay with me. I mean, I’m offering you dinner.”

“Kai, that’s very kind of you, but—” you started.

“I’m serious, Y/N. It’s no trouble at all. Plus, then you can finally taste my fish fry instead of just hearing me brag about it.”

You considered it for a second, the back of your head ringing with uncertainty. You hadn’t slept much the last few nights, and the exhaustion was catching up. You might sleep tonight unburdened by your mate. You looked up, catching Kai’s hopeful eyes. You had declined every other offer he had made before, at least five different times, and yet his offer came up each time.

You laughed slightly, “Sure.”

Kai nearly jumped with excitement. “Really!?” he squealed out, regaining his composure. He cleared his throat, looking straight ahead. “That’s great. That’s fantastic.” He peeked over at you, and you smirked at him.

“If this fish tastes awful, though, I’m never letting you live it down,” you joked.

“You’re going to melt over it,” Kai promised. Smiling widely, he added, “Meet me in an hour?” You nodded, and he hurried off between two cottages. You shook your head, laughing to yourself. Kai knew so little of the world and seemed to have such a sense of childlike wonder. You often found him more like family than anything else. Or at least more like the odd sense of family you had created for yourself. You spent the next hour bargaining with another female who seemed unhappy with the length of your stitches in a quilt you had been working on to trade for a new sack of flour, but you finally convinced her to make the trade, promising that you would up your skill level before the next time you saw her. 

You made your way to Kai’s cottage, set farther back up on a plank platform. Tying Clover to the railing, you walked up the stairs where Kai met you at the door before you could even knock.

“Hi!” he greeted eagerly.

You smiled, “Hi.”

Kai stood there for a moment, basking in his smile before remembering to let you in. “Oh,” he stepped back, waving his arm. “Please, come in!”

You entered his small cottage, smaller than your own. A mattress was pushed into the back corner, various axes and tools were strewn about on the floor in a pile. In the middle of the room, a blanket was set on the floor with a plate of cooked fish in the center, surrounded by plates of rice, beans, cooked squash, and berries.

“You outdid yourself,” you noted, gesturing to the blanket.

Kai stood behind you, his cheeks reddening slightly. “Oh, I, uh, I don’t have a lot of company, so I just…” he stammered, “I don’t have a kitchen table, so I thought we could do it picnic style.”

You chuckled lightly, “That’s very sweet.”

Kai’s eyes brightened before he gestured to the blanket, “Please, sit.”

You did, and he hurried to the shelves next to the stove, pulling down a bottle and popping the cork off. Sitting across from you, he handed you the bottle. You pressed it to your lips and tasted the sweet blueberry wine, its tart flavor tightening the back of your mouth as you swallowed, nearly moaning with delight. You licked your lips slightly before handing the bottle to Kai, who took a drink himself.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had summer wine,” you said.

Kai took another long drink before handing it back to you. “I’ve been saving it. I got it last time I was in the city and wanted to wait for a special occasion.”

“I’m the occasion?” you asked.

Kai smirked, “Don’t flatter yourself.” He paused. “But I guess so.” He brought a fork to the fish filet still steaming on the platter and put it on your plate. “Here, try that.”

You took your fork, stabbing it through the meat that flaked away easily. The buttery smooth texture and light citrus flavor swirled on your tongue. You let out a moan, “Okay, you were right. This is delicious.”

Kai smiled, taking a bite of his own. “I told you.”

Greedily scooping another mouthful, you asked, “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

He swallowed his bite, “My mother taught me. We’d always get a big catch of fish, and then she would make this whole meal for the village.”

“I’ll have to thank her for teaching you the next time I see her,” you noted.

“Oh gods, if you ever tell her, she won’t stop talking about it. She loves you,” he laughed back.

You nodded lightly, smiling into the bite you took.

Things were always easy with Kai. He never asked questions that made you uncomfortable. He never seemed to want anything more than your time. You could joke with each other, and conversation was effortless. Time moved slower with him. The night waned as the sun set, the two of you finishing the entire plate of fish and all the sides. You both laid on the blanket, sprawling, looking up at the ceiling, laughing through hiccups as the fae wine spread through your bloodstreams.

____________________________________________________

“I swear,” Kai laughed out, “I’ve never seen him more angry.”

You coughed out a laugh, sitting up slightly. “He chased you naked through the woods?”

Kai closed his eyes, pressing his palms into them as he heaved out laughter. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”

“Why did he think you stole his clothes in the first place?”

Kai threw his hands up. “Fuck if I know,” he laughed. “He had it out for me from the beginning.”

“So what happened?” you asked, slurring your words.

“I climbed a tree, and he lost me,” he laughed. “He just wandered around, dick to the wind, threatening to skin me.”

You laughed at the sight of one of Kai’s friends, Liam, who often was the butt of jokes in the village but had grown into a handsome male lusted after by other village females.

“What happened after?” you asked.

Kai turned to his side, propping his head on his hand. “I waited until he left, and then when I got back home, he had thrown all my clothes into the trees.”

You guffawed, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You took the bottle of wine and brought it to your lips but found it empty. You turned it over and shook it, a sad frown on your face.

“Gone?” Kai asked.

You nodded.

Without knowing why, you let out a loud laugh, laying back as the bottle hit the floor. Kai smiled and started laughing too, the two of you almost howling as he looked at you. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

You managed to push out between laughs, “Your face!”

“What about my face?” he laughed.

“I can’t look at you without laughing,” you cried out, covering your own.

“What, am I that disgusting?” He punched your shoulder.

“No, you just—” you wheezed, looking at him again.

“What?” he asked, smiling widely.

You turned to him, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back laughter.

“You’re just looking at me?” Kai said.

“You have a silly face.”

Kai smiled slightly. “I have a silly face?” he taunted back.

You nodded, laughter bubbling up again.

“You’re so drunk,” he laughed.

“You’re drunk!” you pointed a finger, slightly off target.

“I know I’m drunk,” Kai responded, “and so are you. And you keep laughing at me because you’re cruel.”

“I wouldn’t be so cruel if you didn’t have such a face,” you laughed, drawing a lazy, squiggly circle around his face.

“I’m glad you find my appearance so amusing!” he laughed again, lying back on his back.

The two of you sat in a soft silence, still slightly gurgling out laughter. 

Kai turned toward you, and you giggled, tears streaming down your face. “Are you done laughing at me?”

“Are you done looking like that?”

“What do you want from me, Y/N?” He chuckled. “I can’t change my face.”

“Then I guess I’m not done laughing.”

You turned to Kai, who smiled at you as you giggled, your hands resting on your stomach, rising and falling with your laughter.

“You’re a mystery,” Kai whispered.

“Ooo, spooky,” you responded, raising your fingers and wiggling them slightly.

“No, really,” Kai said. “You come out of the woods one day, say nothing about where you’re from.” He gestured to the fish. “You steal from us—”

You cut him off, “I bartered!” You laughed.

Kai laughed with you, continuing, “Okay, you participated in barter and trade, and then you disappear into the woods. Three weeks later, you come back up here demanding more and tell us nothing of who you are.”

You tried to hold back another laugh, looking at him as Kai raised himself from the ground to sit up, his legs crossed as he leaned his head against the wall.

“What do you want to know?” you asked.

“Anything you want to tell me. You can tell me whatever story you want, just tell me a little about the mysterious female in front of me.”

You hoisted yourself up, still laughing lightly. You swiped your finger through the juice of the berries in the bowl and sucked the sweetness from it. “Well, I was born from a dragon.”

“Obviously,” Kai said, “explains the scales and fire-breathing anger.” He joked.

“Of course,” you said, “and I spent my days plundering the cities of Prythian, wreaking havoc on innocent families, and flying to mountains to protect my treasures.”

Kai smiled and nodded. “And then you were cursed by a wizard?” he asked.

You shook your head, wagging your finger. “No, no, no, a witch. It was a witch.”

“Ah, yes,” he said. “A witch cursed you to be a female for the rest of your life.”

“Cursed to live in the woods for the rest of my days, never to know the speed of the wind and the glimmer of gold.”

“A tragic tale, to be sure,” Kai smirked.

You feigned a frown. “I cry myself to sleep every night.”

Kai smiled and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

You looked at him, his peaceful face, and felt your inhibitions lower slightly. Pushing back the incessant pounding of your mate with it, you traced the floral patterns of the blanket and cleared your throat. “No, I—” you coughed, “I was born in Velaris.”

Kai opened one eye to look at you. “A city girl,” he smirked jokingly.

You let out a small giggle. “Not for long. My mother took me out of the city when I was still really young. We found a village in the woods, kind of like this, and she raised me there.”

Kai opened both eyes and jostled his feet. “What about your father?”

You shrugged.

“He’s a bastard?” he asked.

You shrugged again, a smirk on your face as the alcohol's warmth tingled in your toes. “Don’t know, never met him!”

Kai looked at you incredulously. “You don’t know your father?”

You wiggled your nose, numb from the wine. “My mother said he wanted nothing to do with us.”

Kai looked at you more seriously. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh,” you slapped his leg playfully, “don’t get sappy. I don’t know the guy, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.”

Kai started to giggle again. “I guess that’s true. Can’t miss what you don’t know.”

You started laughing again too. “Besides, what if he’s ugly?”

Kai guffawed, pushing tears away. “Then that would explain your ass face.���

You punched him in the thigh, and he cried out, “Ow, fuck, reign it in.”

“Pussy,” you joked. Kai rubbed his leg and smiled at you. “Sorry,” you apologized.

“Well, now you owe me, as I’m wounded. So how did you get here?” Kai asked.

You felt the words fall from your mouth faster than you could stop them. “I met my mate, who was sent straight from hell,” you pointed down to the ground, “and he was so fucking mean and took everything so seriously.” Kai’s face tightened slightly. “So I ran away from him, and I watched someone die, and then I met the High Lord of the Night Court, nice guy actually,” Kai seemed to straighten slightly. “And then I said goodbye, and went into the woods, and now I’m here.”

Kai looked at you, a serious tonal shift. “You have a mate?” He stammered, and got out, “The High Lord?”

You nodded, swaying slightly as you pointed to your head. “Still can hear him up here.”

“Y/N—” Kai started.

“Ugh,” you said, leaning back, “if you’re one of those traditional fae with a stick up their ass that thinks you have to stay with your mate, I don’t wanna hear it,” you slurred.

Kai leaned forward slightly. “No, no. I guess I just, I didn’t think that mates could be cruel to each other.”

You laughed slightly. “Oh, you are very wrong.” Kai paused, unsure of what to say. “You don’t need to pity me,” you said. “I should have seen it coming. He was shitty before we accepted the bond. I don’t know why I thought it would change after we were mated.” You picked a hangnail from your thumb.

“You’re brave,” Kai noted.

Kai watched you with intense curiosity as you shook your head, turning the corners of your mouth down. “I was desperate. Bravery didn’t have anything to do with it.” Kai didn’t respond, his eyes encouraging you to continue. “When I was a child, my mother would tell me stories about mates, about fae who loved each other so deeply they felt each other’s souls dancing with their own.” You looked at the ceiling, imagining the tales your mother spun. “These fae would spend their entire lives looking in the mirror and only see half of themselves looking back.” Your eyes traced the beams above you. “And then one day, they would find their mate, and suddenly,” you snapped your fingers, “the world was whole, and every piece of you suddenly made sense.”

Kai leaned forward, captivated. “She’d tell me how colors would be more vivid, food would taste better, heat would feel hotter and cold would feel colder, and the world would feel suddenly so much larger and yet so small.” You swallowed down the lump in your throat. “She would tell me this story about how, long before the world was as it is now, where clouds were made of fire and the mountains were tall enough to scrape the sky, long before the fae existed, there were these creatures who roamed the world.”

Kai’s eyes widened with interest. “Some of them looked like two males sewn up back to back, and those were the children of the sun. And the children of the world were two females meshed together. The children of the moon were a male and female. These creatures, they would spend their days talking, reading, and learning about the world around them. They were so happy to be alive. Every day they would thank the sun or the moon or the world just for being alive.” You envisioned these beings, with four arms and legs, wandering around the barren wasteland of the world, content with each other.

“And then,” you continued, “the gods grew jealous of the bond that the creatures had with each other. They never knew loneliness, sorrow, or anger; they had no fear.” Kai listened intently, shifting slightly to lean forward on his arms. “The gods worried that the creatures would disobey them and that if they had no fear and no worry of loss, they wouldn’t hesitate to battle them. The more the creatures talked, the more they began to question the gods' power over them. So the gods decided they would split the creatures into two, just cut them down the middle.” You made a slashing motion with your hand. “And so the gods made this plan, and they filled the sky with fire and ice, and they struck fear into the hearts of these creatures. As the fire rained down, they ripped the creatures apart with giant swords. When they were all separated, they blew a giant windstorm through and scattered the creatures and their partners across the world, threatening that if they ever defied them again, they would split them again, and they would have one arm and one leg.” You laughed slightly at the image.

“My mother would say that as the creatures tried to continue to live, they spent their lives roaming the earth searching for their other half. When they had children, and time continued on, they died out, but their children still searched for the other half, like that need was buried deep inside them. As the children had children, and their children had children, and then at some point, they gave birth to the fae. We carry that same need to search for this other half. And that’s our mate. When we find them, and that bond snaps, it’s because we have finally found our other half, and it’s a tiny act of defiance against the gods who taught us to hate, fear, and be angry. But also taught us to know love. She called it the origin of love”

Kai sat back, absorbing the story. “That’s...incredible,” he said softly. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”

You smiled, a bittersweet expression crossing your face. “My mother had a way of making everything sound magical.”

Kai reached out and gently touched your hand. “She gave you a beautiful gift with those stories.”

You nodded. “I think my mother just needed something to hold onto. I think...” you paused, “I think she was a very broken woman. And that if she could find this one piece of herself then everything would come together and be fine.” You felt a tear run down your face. “She would always tell me that if I found my mate someday, the world would be right.” You brushed the tear away, the alcohol still bubbling in your blood. “So when I met my mate, I just accepted the bond right away. I didn’t even think twice about it. I didn’t think the bond could be wrong; I just thought that if I loved him hard enough, he would be kind. Or that if I was his missing piece, it would just take some time for him to settle.” You shook your head, sniffling slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just a stupid story. She got it wrong.”

Kai scooted closer to you. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

You shrugged. “No reason to apologize. I was a child. I was a child when she told me that story, and I was a child when I accepted that bond. And now I have to live with that choice.”

Kai shook his head, looking downwards. “Does he know?”

“Who?” You asked, looking at Kai.

“Does your mate know where you are?”

You shook your head. “If he did, he would have come to take me back by now.”

Kai sat in silence, as did you, staring at the ceiling, trying to tame the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

“You said you met the High Lord? Is there nothing he could do?” Kai asked.

“I didn’t tell him,” you paused. “It wasn’t his concern.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to live with this,” Kai pleaded.

“It was a foolish mistake. And believe me, I’ve looked into ways to split the bond. It’s not feasible.”

Kai sat for a second. “And you can still feel him?”

“Every day.” You blinked away another tear. “I can feel him scraping the inside of my mind, trying to get me to come home.”

“Do you talk to him?” he asked.

“I used to. Now I’ve stopped altogether.”

Kai nodded. “It’s not fair.”

You chuckled. “Out of all the unfairness in the world, my mated mistake is the least of the problems.”

Kai shook his head. “You’re allowed to be angry. And you’re allowed to say it’s not fair.”

You raised your brows. “I know. And I am angry. But I’ve seen a lot more hurtful things than to wallow in my own suffering anymore.”

Kai crawled over to you, positioning his chest slightly above your own. “Your suffering is important to me.” You looked up at him, his hair hanging down in his face. “I may not know it myself, and I may not be able to feel it, but never in a hundred lifetimes do you deserve to be tormented.”

You opened your mouth slightly, but Kai cut you off. “I don’t want to hear you deny it. I care about you, and I wish it could be different.”

“It can’t,” you said back.

“But it doesn’t mean I can’t wish it for you. Even if you’ve stopped.”

You smiled up at him, as his green eyes traced your own. Kai didn’t say anything, merely gazing down at you, his eyes softening slightly as he took one hand and ran his fingers through your hair. And then, without thinking, you started to laugh again, uncontrollably. Kai simply rolled his eyes and rolled off you onto his back.

“You’re a child,” he scolded you. You continued to laugh until your stomach ached and at some point, Kai joined in on your laughter, bellowing out joy until the late hours of the night.

To my lovely readers, I'm not apologizing for writing men into my world that I would throw myself at immediately. Throwing feminism to the wind, I will drop everything to wife that man up. And yet, I warn you to not get attached, because the only person who can hurt you is yourself... and also me..... @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006

[hwanchaesong]

↗🏢 Entering 4th floor: Of all the roads you took, it all led to him. So get lost in his soul as he eats you inside and out to fill in his hunger. 🌌

🎧: Chase Atlantic - Moonlight

wc: 885

genre & warnings: fluff, slight angst, forbidden love au, poor reader x noble tae, confession, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Paradise Hotel series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"A very good evening to you, my lord." you bowed respectfully at the man, making him chuckle at you.

"Good evening to you too, Y/N. Must I remind you again about formalities?" he replies, arms wide open whilst he turns around to fully face you.

"No, Taehyun. I believe I still have the recollection about the said formalities." you return his smile, standing up to your full height and entering the embrace he's pulling you in.

"Good, and you're late." he murmurs against the crown of your head and you couldn't help but pout.

"The chores kept me like shackles in that damned villa." you complain, detaching yourself from him and straightening your sleeping attire.

Your eyes scanned the person in front of you who seems to be deep in thought.

"Taehyun, are you all right?" you asked, putting a hand on his left shoulder to catch his attention, to which you are successful.

"Apologies." he lets out a little giggle, one that you found adorable. His hand then grasps yours, tugging you in the opposite direction of what is supposed to be your usual spot for rendezvous.

"Where are we heading?" it was an endless inquiry on your side but you couldn't help it. The man, Kang Taehyun, is full of surprises. One that you wouldn't expect out of a noble.

You accidentally discovered him in the forests when you went out after your duties, fully intent on enjoying the company of the trees and flowers. Then you stumbled upon him, picking up mushrooms and was about to eat a poisonous Amanita.

It was safe to say that you educated him about nature, in which he was thankful for. He is not dumb per se, but he is a curious being.

He wanted to test out what would happen if he eats a poisonous mushroom. He read something about it in a book and was about to try it out. Thank god you were there to stop him or else he would've ascended to heaven right then and there.

That is when the two of you started a beautiful friendship, pillared by your love for knowledge and nature.

The difference in status is not a hindrance, as he did not care about it.

He did not mind that you are a mere maid in a nearby distinguished family, and frankly, you also did not care that he is the heir of one of the great families.

Truly, a magnificent pair that would be looked down upon by the society, but the two people involved did not dare to cut the connection.

Simply because of sentiments that are yet to be revealed.

"I have gone weary of the meadows." Taehyun answered you, still trudging on the surfeit of trees, shrubs and grass, "I think it is time for a new scenery, is it not?"

"My L- Taehyun." you corrected yourself when he threw you a nasty look when you called him by title, "May I know what kind of scenery you are pertaining to?"

"You will know soon enough." he laughs when you jut your lower lip in response to his vague reply, a charming pout on your face and he has this urge to kiss it away, but held himself back for the meantime.

After a few minutes of walking around the dim forest, illuminated by the glow of the moon and stars, you finally arrived in the fields. Then, Taehyun guided you towards some thick bushes, and alas! A gorgeous view was revealed.

Who knew that lies beyond these meadows and forests is a cerulean ocean, ready to be sailed and explored.

"My word.." you trailed off, in awe of the beauty of mother nature.

The white sands seem to sparkle at night, the light of the moon reflects on the clear waters of the sea, and the milky way combs through the inky skies.

You can't help but admire the landscape, "This is gorgeous."

You failed to notice how your companion's eyes never left your astonished figure, silently agreeing with your statement yet for him, the compliment is more directed at you.

You look at your sandal clad feet, then in pure impulse, you remove your footwear, toes digging in the sand and you make a run towards the water.

You paid no heed to Taehyun's shouts, instead relishing in the fresh breeze of the ocean, soaking in the salty water and not minding how it seeps into your nightgown.

"Woah there!" Taehyun laughs, finally catching up to you, and he thinks that it's the perfect time to say what he's been meaning to tell you for a while now.

"Listen, Y/N, I have a proposal." he speaks and you turn to him, confusion written over your face.

"Proposal? Surely not marriage, right?" you joked, and it kind of hurt you when he shook his head, but then your heart raced when his next sentence reached your ears.

"No, not marriage. At least, not yet." he holds your hand in his, grasping it tightly like he's scared that if it's loose, then you will slip away from him.

"Taehyun, what do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I want this place to be the spot for our tryst."

Ah, seriously, who are you to say no to your soon-to-be lover?

taglist:

@hyunjinheartbreakprince @lun4kazumii @once27 @purrplegyuu @yawnzsof @baeksofty @shakalakaboomboo @eclipse-777

[feefymo]

The Rorchach Effect - Part 1

Jimmy Darling x fem! reader - NSFW • MDNI word count: 2757 author's notes: it was like a multiple birth but here we are. This is my very first attempt of a fanfiction (and it's not written in my native language) but I worked a lot on it and I hope you enjoy it. I tried to keep It simple. After mulling it over I chose to divide the fic in two parts and yes: the smut is in the second part! It's not proofread because I'm a kamikaze, yes. Little curiosity: I was partly inspired by Saltburn and this soundtrack. What else? I'll leave you to read! Be kind, pleaseee! My hashtag is #ficfymo ! summary: Elsa threw a party for Jimmy's birthday but no one knows where he ended up. Fem! Reader POV. warnings: mention of violence, and blood. I think that's it, for now. https://open.spotify.com/intl-it/track/6Huqy9WdEE3rMazEQgajn2?si=2105621ac0044260

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome.

I'm the one they call the Rorschach Woman; my real name is not important.

Do any of you know what vitiligo is? Vitiligo is a disease but in the maternal arms of Elsa Mars, nothing is bad. None of her adopted children are sick: we all have a gift, don't we, Elsa? I had a boundless love for ballet, I was busily studying psychiatry, I was a "prodigy girl" or, at least, I thought I was. Then, the vitiligo showed up. What I thought was my downfall, according to Elsa, represented the true miracle. I gave up dancing; I gave up on my dream of becoming a researcher. I lost the support of my real parents because my appearance had changed but hey! Now I have my own number in Elsa Mars Freak Show. I'm here to enchant you. To let you read the spots on my face. I'm here to interpret your minds. This is my personal test of Rorschach, offered to you, kind audience. A few dollars and you can study me, myself every night but not every night are like this. Tonight I want to tell you a story 'cause today is my best friend's birthday. The brother I've chosen. Tonight, a big party was thrown for him but there's no trace of him. Where did you go, Jimmy Darling?

Let's take a step back.

I've never seen the camp so packed. Never. If all these people showed up for every show, each of us would be filthy rich. I don't understand how it is possible and yet, Elsa must have performed one of her magics. She says she consider Jimmy her blood, so she claimed to organize everything herself. She chose a party theme: "Normal People". She call it "satire", a mockery towards those who are truly considered normal. Some of us believed her, others adapted to avoid getting into trouble. The truth is that, by disguising ourselves according to the canons, we appear even less credible. Grotesque. Ridicolous. I couldn't resist a subtle provocation, so I made my complexion uniform but with the white of French mimes. Like a pierrot. Totally painted in white, I wander around in a champagne dress. I look like a crazy moth until I find the flame. That flame is Jimmy himself, surrounded by a myriad of strangers who urge him to blow out the candles.

- Happy birthday… uhm… -

- Happy birt… Joseph? -

- Jack? John? -

- I think it's Jimmy. -

- Jimmy? Are you sure? -

- JIMMY! -

The music does not cover the murmurs nor the embarrassment that comes down like a curtain. I try to push and elbow to reach my best friend but I can't. He's standing there, nerves to edge: he looks around, clenching his teeth. He seems lost while he's trying to put an unconvinced smile on his Peter Pan face. Once the candles have been blown out, Jimmy disappears in the general disinterest. Nobody cares, the party continues as if nothing had happened, fueling an atmosphere that has nothing normal about it. It's something like a mesmerizing nightmare in the suffused lights that Elsa had placed everywhere. A luminous design that even turns into a labyrinth in the wild meadow near the main event. It should be a modern fairy tale for the privileged who want to escape from the routine. For us, scum, it's an illusion. A utopia, a warning of what we will never achieve but I don't give a fucking damn. Sincerely. If I'm still here it's not because of Elsa nor because I truly appreciate her Cabinet Of Curiosities. I'm still here for my "acquired family" and for the boy who should be the protagonist of the evening which no one cares about.

Driven by the chaos, I search for familiar faces in the dim light until I come across Ethel; she shaved her chin. She is holding a plate with a slice of cake that she has prepared herself and she's standing in the dancing crowd, with a worried and resigned look. We both knows who the cake is for: Ethel has seen his son, maybe talked to him but she won't chase him. I prefer to not disturb her but I don't give up: retreating into a slit of darkness I collide with someone and jump perhaps exaggeratedly. Paul emerges from the darkness, rubbing his side with a grimace. He wears a hideous, gigantic suit to disguise his condition. It makes it look like a sad parallelepiped. Doctor Frankenstein's Creature.

-Paul, sorry! Did I hurt you?! -

-Nah, no biggies! What about you? You're nervous, what's happening? -

-Well, uh, I'm… have you seen Jimmy? I've been looking for him all night. -

- First I saw him with a brunette, she was dragging him towards El-'s tent… hey, that's the one over there! -

But the brunette is not in Jimmy's company: laughing rudely with her friends, she passes by me in a sweet-smelling cloud of glitters. She carries with her a kind of old oil lantern lit on a gesture that makes my blood run cold: cheeky, she twirls a battered glove on her head and, in one breath of Pink Lady, she's already too far away. Even though I would like to, I'm not going to confront her and complicate things because I prefer to follow her steps backwards. An alarm screams wildly inside me and I have to comply with it by launching myself out of the tent. The humidity of the night sticks to my skin, kneading the white paint that I thought was dry. I'm a mess inside and out but it doesn't matter at all.

- JIMMY! - I call, shout and run. I run, run, run like a fugitive. A voice whispers the worst to me and maybe I'm crazy but I can't help it. - JIMMY! - I keep repeating myself but he doesn't answer. The throat burns, the feet go by themselves, swaying dangerously on the heels. I didn't even realize I had ventured onto the lawn until I felt tickles on my ankles. Fräulain Elsa's illuminations invite me to follow their aura like drunken fireflies and I, disaffected, accept. I'm not afraid that Jimmy is dead but, worse, that he's gone. That he left me alone, leaving suddenly and without me. He promised me that if we ever succeeded, we would leave together and one suitcase would be enough to move to Europe. He always kept his promises, he…

I stop, crystallized in the heaviness of the evening. I hear noises scattered throughout the maze of light bulbs: they come from a specific point but they echo and bounce in the air. It sounds like the clumsy moan of an animal that it would be better not to get close to but I obstinately follow the source to the center of the maze. Once I reach my destination I jump somewhere between horror and relief, putting a hand to my mouth so as not to be discovered immediately. Sitting on the ground is Jimmy Darling. Hunched over, he turns his back to me and fiddles with something I don't understand. He is surrounded by objects, some of which I cannot distinguish. There are a few bottles including one of vermouth still sealed, half a lemon, a shirt reduced to a pile of wrinkles in Granada Green, the other glove specially sewn for the party. Some salt, perhaps? The worst aspect, the most dramatic touch, is a pinata hanging over his skull. A lobster-shaped pinata. As I try to figure out whether or not I'm awake, a low, deep growl forces its way into Jimmy's lungs, flaying them with increasing violence. The growl is quickly turning into the pained cry of an already wounded beast. I won't respect his privacy any longer, so I walk over to him and kneel before him.

- JIMMY! JIM, STOP IT! STOP, DAMMIT! - Jimmy was on the verge of cutting off his left hand with a rusty knife but my arrival ruined his plans. He doesn't recognize me right away and his immediate reaction is to turn against me. He is much, much stronger than me but, even if he vehemently chases me away, I attack again in what turns into a blind scuffle. The moment Jim realizes it's really me, he drops his guard groggily. He is no less upset, nor willing to suddenly change his mind but he grabs me by the elbows and pushes me away roughly so that I don't end up hurting myself. Crawling on the ground, he steps back before pulling himself up and staggering but he isn't drunk. He's been drinking but it's not the alcohol that shakes him like this: I recognize the difference, also because I've never seen him in this state. In his big good eyes there is no freshly roasted coffee but boiling petrolium. His expression, a cracked mask of hatred and at the same time authentic desperation, reduced to its core. He trembles in his sweat-soaked undershirt and makes a gesture that he has never deemed necessary in front of me. He hides his hands, trying in vain to put them in his back pockets, like a child caught red-handed. Does he feel reassured by my presence? Is he bothered by it? He's gasping.

Jimmy what… what are you doing? Why?! - I ask him in tears, advancing slowly on my knees. - NO! - he spits out a scream, trying to freeze me in place. - Please… Y/N, no. Enough. That's enough. - I shake my head, I'm confused and I rub my now soaked cheeks. Gray due to the white mixing with the black of the mascara.

- What are you talking about, pleas st-… -

- SHE SCREAMED, Y/N! SHE SCREAMED IN GENUINE TERROR, I TELL YOU!-

- BUT WHO, JAMES?! FOR GOD'S SAKE, WHO?! -

He hates it when I call him James but that seems strangely to appease him. He stares at me like a madman and, in silence, seems to wonder how it is possible that I don't know the circumstances of his delirium but, gradually, lucidity returns and, at the same time, an atrocious sadness. - That… oh, fuck. She was one of the very few people to smile at me and make me sincere wishes. Did she really want to spend time with me… did I fall for it like an idiot? I do not know. It was her! She chose it, I warned her but… - while Jimmy tries to explain, he forgets to hide from me and gesticulates, so I notice a burn on the hand that he was seriously about to cut off. The living flesh fades from red to the paleness of the bladder. Grains of not completely dissolved salt outline the surface like grotesque lace. He must have poured it in. - She took off my glove, alluding to my skills as a pilot but then a heartbreaking scream and… and… I had to let it go. Instead, I tried to calm her down but she…how the fuck is that possible? How did she not know I'm a fucking freak? It was written all over the damn thing! But she knew it. She knew it very well. My attentions were the perfect excuse to defend herself. She called me a monster, a half-man, an abomination and so on, you know, what's new? But then… she burned me with her fucking lantern. You convince yourself that you have a zest, that you are used to it and yet it's not true. And, as with Meep, the day comes when insults are no longer enough. - he doesn't have the courage to look at me but what he says is intimate. Devastating. Shareable. - The bar of wickedness is raised. Of course! That girl wasn't defending herself. She squirted oil on me once, twice, three times. She was torturing me, only stopped because I raised my arms and… the fear came back. She's gone. -

I'm annihilated. Annihilated by what I see and hear, I undergo the hypnosis of Jimmy's pain which soon becomes mine too. His irises are diluted by a sea of ​​tears; suffering makes him unfairly wonderful. In the meantime I have reached him and, from the bottom of my position, I stare at him without embarrassment. I wrap one arm around his knees while the other grabs his good hand and places it on the back of my neck. He wants to take it away, he puts up a feeble resistance but he hears me sobbing and stops immediately. - Yes, Jimmy: her wish was to hurt you. This isn't a party, it's a visit to the slaughterhouse and we are the pigs. As always. - now I hold him with both arms, rubbing my face between his knees. The fabric of his trousers becomes stained white make-up until my skin is almost clean. I raise my head. My face's a palette used between stains that can be washed away and stains that my skin retains.

- Look at me. Are you looking at me? -

- I am. - he says, with the tone of someone who absolutely has to convince you. He hasn't noticed but he's stroking my hair. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned down. -The kindness with which you caress me has never belonged to anyone among the few who have touched me. Not even my mother. - I'm deadly serious. I look at him with watery eyes but it's his tear that rains down my forehead. - Not even to myself. - because I mistreated myself, inflicted physical pain and consequent signatures but he… - If those are really claws, everyone should have them. Maybe they would learn what kindness is. - if I wasn't the one talking to him, he wouldn't believe me. He would mock me, it would be bitter and biting. Instead he fights with the truth that I offer him and stares at me dazed. Almost angry, hunted. The problem is that he believes me, so he picks me up and it's as if he's looking at me for the very first time. His forehead is damp with sweat, so I free his unruly curls before rummaging through my clutch bag. I make sure he follows my gestures and I take out a box of matches: I choose one and place it under the perfect curve of his nose. He flinches but stays as I light the end and, solemnly, set the piñata on fire. While the papier-mâché lobster is devoured by the flames, little by little, melted sweets and chocolate perish in the meadow. Neither of us needs to introduce what's about to happen: just as I stand on tiptoe, he lowers his disheveled head and the tips of our noses meet. It's the last chance to retract before the soft "m" of his upper lip meets my lower lip, dehydrated from makeup. In the first friction there is the disbelief of all the years in which we have not allowed ourselves and then, surrounded by the smell of burning, the kiss intensifies in an unstoppable crescendo. Jimmy wraps his bare arms around my body with the eagerness of someone who must survive. For my part, I let out a moan and cling to his shoulder blades: I realize what I wanted and how much I needed to be satisfied. Jimmy and I share the thrill of the kiss, so much so that he murmurs something incomprehensible against my teeth before parting them with his tongue and searching for mine. He holds my head as if I were water and he was drinking and he doesn't care about the cosmetic taste I have on; his lips turn pale. He slides down my neck without any self-control and I understand that he would take me here, right now. In the midst of the fire. - Wait. - I try to stop him with a deafening smooch. We are out of breath and the air is irrespirable but he stares at me with an imploring look. - How much longer? - he plead. I feel his blood vibrate under his golden skin, between the vertebrae of his broad back. - You have to trust me: I have an idea. - The smoke screen rises towards the sky and us. We… dissolve in the middle.

taglist: @taintandviolent @silverzoomies @doll3tt33 @wh0re43van @fear-is-truth + PLEASE, If you want to be added or I forgot someone, let me know!

[mondaysamiright]

Falling Into You

Pairing: Emilia Clarke x fem!reader

Summary: When Y/N moved to the UK, the last thing she expected was to be tripped over by Emilia Clarke.

Author’s Note: I’m so American so I apologize if I’ve messed up any the locations in this story.

Part 2 Part 3

Sunlight filtered through the golden leaves above, casting a gentle, warm glow over Hampstead Heath. It was one of those perfect autumn days, the sky a clear, endless blue, the air crisp and filled with the earthy scent of fallen leaves. Y/N wandered along the path, her boots crunching against the gravel as she took in the unfamiliar yet beautiful surroundings. She had been in London for a few weeks now, but the sense of being out of place still lingered. Hampstead Heath, with its sprawling meadows and ancient trees, almost reminded her of home, of the Colorado mountains.

She spotted a large pile of leaves off the path, a playful temptation she couldn’t resist. Smiling to herself, she detoured and threw herself down into the pile, feeling the satisfying crunch beneath her as she spread her arms wide and stared up at the clear sky. The coolness of the leaves seeped through her jacket, but she didn't mind. It was a simple joy, a moment of carefree abandon she hadn’t experienced in what felt like ages.

The wind rustled the leaves around her, the park’s tranquility wrapping around her like a blanket. She closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the nostalgia of autumn back home. The stillness, however, was short-lived.

A soft thud, followed by a surprised gasp, shattered the quiet, and Y/N felt a weight suddenly collapse onto her midsection. Her eyes snapped open just as a to-go cup of tea tumbled through the air, its contents spilling across her jacket before the cup itself rolled harmlessly to the side. Y/N blinked, her mind struggling to process what had just happened.

She shifted, looking up to see a pair of wide, shocked eyes staring down at her. The woman, petite with tousled brown hair and a look of sheer horror on her face, was practically sprawled across her, half supported by Y/N and half sinking into the pile of leaves.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” the woman gasped, pushing herself up awkwardly, her cheeks flushing crimson. Y/N could only stare, her brain catching up to the fact that the woman who had just tripped over her was none other than Emilia Clarke.

Y/N scrambled to sit up, dislodging a few stray leaves from her hair, a flurry of apologies spilling from her lips as well. “No, no, it’s okay, I shouldn’t have been laying here like a, um, leaf pile lurker.” She winced at her own words, feeling her face heat up as she glanced at her now tea-stained jacket. “Really, it’s fine.”

Emilia, still looking mortified, grabbed her bag and rummaged through it, finally producing a handful of napkins. “Please, let me—” She moved closer, dabbing at Y/N’s jacket before abruptly freezing. Realizing she was patting down a stranger, she thrust the napkins into Y/N’s hands instead. “I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going, and then I tripped, and… I’ve ruined your jacket.”

Y/N looked down at the damp fabric and chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension. “At least it’s not coffee. It’s just a jacket, I can wash it when I get home.” She paused, noticing the slight shiver that ran through her despite her words. “Although, I might’ve chosen the wrong day to take a nap in the leaves.”

Emilia’s gaze softened as she noticed the slight tremor in Y/N’s hands. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re shivering. There’s a café nearby—please, let me at least get you something warm. I feel terrible.”

Y/N hesitated but then nodded with a small smile. “Okay, but only if I can buy you tea in return. I’m partially to blame, after all.”

Emilia’s relieved smile was all the encouragement Y/N needed as they made their way back to the path, falling into step beside each other. The silence between them was surprisingly comfortable, and Y/N found herself glancing at Emilia out of the corner of her eye, still not quite believing that she’d literally run into the actress like this.

They reached the café, a quaint little place tucked away from the more crowded areas of the park. A bell chimed softly as they entered, the warm air and rich scent of coffee and pastries enveloping them. 

“I’m getting your coffee,” Emilia announced with a grin, already heading for the counter.

Y/N raised a brow, matching her smile. “Then I’m getting your tea.” They stood side by side, placing their orders and handing over their cards—Emilia for the coffee, Y/N for the tea. They waited for their order, occasionally glancing at each other for a moment before Y/N spoke. 

"I'm Y/N by the way." She extended her hand, feeling a spark of warmth as Emilia's smaller hand slipped into hers.

"Emilia." The actress' eyes sparkled with amusement as she shook Y/N's hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady as her mind helpfully reminded her that she was holding the hand of Emilia fucking Clarke.

The barista called out their orders, and they released their hands to accept the cups. Y/N was expecting to part ways now, but to her surprise, Emilia gestured to the seating area. 

“Would you like to sit for a bit?” Emilia asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant. Y/N blinked, surprised, but nodded. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice.”

They found a small table in a quiet corner of the café, away from prying eyes and curious glances. The sun streamed through the window, casting a gentle light over the polished wood and the small vase of fresh flowers between them. Emilia wrapped her hands around her cup, her eyes meeting Y/N’s over the rim with a curious intensity.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to London?" She asked, her tone light but genuinely interested, "You don't sound like you are from here." 

Y/N chuckled, taking a sip of her coffee. "You're right. I'm from the States, Colorado to be exact. I actually just moved here for work a couple weeks ago." 

Emilia nodded. "Do you like it here so far? I mean, besides the occasional unexpected stranger falling on you?" Her lips quirked in a teasing grin.

"I do. It's very different, but it's a good different," Y/N replied, returning her smile. "And hey, at least the company's not too bad."

Emilia laughed,  "Well, I'm glad I could help make your move a memorable one."

Y/N could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as the memory of Emilia laying on top of her resurfaced. She quickly took a gulp of her coffee, willing her mind not to go there.

"So, what about you?" she asked, desperate to change the subject, "What brings you to Hampstead Heath?"

"Just taking a break from filming," Emilia said, a note of exhaustion in her voice. "I needed some fresh air, and this place always helps clear my head."

Y/N nodded, understanding. "Yeah, I can see why. It's beautiful." 

"It is a lovely place. Though I supposed it's not the same as what you're used to, is it? 

"No, not quiet. I guess I'm still getting used to everything being so...flat." Y/N laughed, but there was a wistfulness in her voice that was impossible to miss.

Emilia smiled sympathetically, her eyes searching. "Do you miss home?"

"Sometimes," Y/N admitted. "But I'm here now, and I'm determined to make the best of it. And hey, if I ever get homesick, I can always just go throw myself into a pile of leaves."

Emilia laughed, "Is being drenched in tea also part of the Colorado experience?"

"Only on special occasions."

They both laughed, the sound blending into the quiet hum of the café. As the minutes passed, conversation flowed more easily between them. They talked about Y/N’s move, her impressions of London so far, and Emilia’s own love for the city. Y/N found herself relaxing more and more, drawn in by Emilia’s warmth and genuine interest.

The café had filled up around them, but their little corner remained a small bubble of quiet conversation and shared smiles. Y/N glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised at how much time had passed. “I can’t believe we’ve been here for over an hour,” she said, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Emilia looked equally surprised, her eyes widening slightly as she followed Y/N’s gaze to the clock. “Wow, you’re right. Time flies when you’re in good company, I guess.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

They lingered for a few more minutes, exchanging a few more stories before Emilia glanced at her phone, a small sigh escaping her. “I should probably get going, but this was… really nice.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment. “Yeah, it was. Thanks for the coffee, and, uh, for not being mad about the whole tripping incident.”

Emilia laughed.. “I think I’m the one who owes you thanks for not being mad. I did spill my tea all over you, after all.” 

They both stood, an awkward silence stretching between them as they gathered their things. Y/N shifted from one foot to the other, searching for the right words. “Um, thanks again. For the coffee and, you know, the company. It was really nice talking to you.”

Emilia hesitated, her eyes searching Y/N’s for a moment before she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Y/N in a quick, almost shy hug. The unexpected warmth and softness of the embrace caught Y/N off guard, but she instinctively wrapped her arms around Emilia, careful not to hold on too tightly. It was over almost as quickly as it began, and they stepped back, both of them slightly flushed.

“Take care, Y/N,” Emilia said softly, her eyes warm but tinged with something Y/N couldn’t quite place. 

With one last smile, Emilia turned and headed for the door. Y/N watched her go, her heart thudding in her chest as the bell above the door chimed softly, the sound carrying on the cool breeze that followed Emilia out into the park.

Y/N stood there for a moment longer, the warmth of the hug still lingering on her skin, the scent of Emilia’s perfume faint in the air. She exhaled slowly, a small smile pulling at her lips as she turned back toward the empty table.    

Emilia Clarke. Tea. And an unforgettable afternoon. London, she thought, was turning out to be more interesting than she expected.

[afro-hispwriter]

My Everything(Kai Anderson)

Kai Anderson x black!reader(no heavy descriptions)

Summary- You're Kai's everything but you don't know it until he says it

Warnings- brief fear of s/o,  slight housewife!y/n, slapping, meadow being a bitch, slight vulnerable kai

Wc- 1.9k

-

Being the mother of the children of a cult leader was surprisingly better than expected.

Kai always treated you well, ever since the day you met he always seemed to have a sweet spot for you. And it always shocked you because you've heard so much of him from Winter who introduced you two in the first place. 

And with how sweet he treated you it wasn't long until you fell in love with him. 

But everything changed when you got pregnant, and it was also around the time the cult started forming. You wanted to join, be a part of something but Kai said you weren't allowed to. 

You ended up having twins, a boy, and a girl. Peter and Paradyce. Kai at first wanted to name Peter, Charles, or Charlie but you convinced him to Peter. 

-

"We should consider sending them to school, let them get a taste of hanging out with other kids."  You say as you watched Kai read through the pre-k brochures. 

"Women have always taught their kids at home and they always turn out fine." You hated when he turned all misogynistic.

"Kai, please it's already hard enough for me to take care of the twins and the house at the same time. With them, at school, this would give me time and peace of mind to stalk up on groceries and any other errands I need." He set the brochure down and rubbed his chin.

"Okay, doll." You were shocked by how compliant he was. 

"Really? Okay, I'll call the school tomorrow." You stand up with a smile and as you walked past him he grabbed your hand making you stop.

"Anything for you." Your heart swelled at his words and you swear you could've melted when his lips met the back of your hand. 

-

"So you're telling me these past 3-4 years you and Kai haven't talked about what you are? At all?" Beverly asks you.

"Im just the mother of his children." You say as you turn the stove on.

"Please, you're basically his housewife," Meadow says, bitterly you should say. You frowned and put the pot on the stove. 

"She's kind of right, you're his housewife that he has sex with almost every day," Beverly says and you sighed.

Were you really just the housewife?

"Don't listen to them Y/n," Winter says and swings an arm around your shoulders. "You should hear the way Kai talks about you, he loves you and the kids so much." Ivy walked in and threw some packages on the table.

"Are we shit-talking Kai? Because he's been a real dick lately, but whats knew?" They all laughed besides you and Meadow. 

"Kai is nice to me." They all look at you. 

"I guess, he probably just has a sweet spot for you which is very hard to believe." 

"I guess." You respond and pressed your lips together. Meadow scoffed again and rolled her eyes before walking out. You never knew why Meadow never liked you, you've always tried to be nice to her. 

"Don't worry about her, she's just angry that Kai is in love with you and not her." You couldn't deny it made you jealous knowing another woman loved Kai like you do. But now you know why she doesn't like you. 

-

You questioned yourself the whole night.

Were you really just someone who made his life easier? 

You just dropped the kids off at school and a meeting was just ending. As the members started walking up the stairs and leaving the house one by one. You stood just outside the basement entrance, trying to gain the confidence to talk to Kai about a serious matter. 

When nobody came up you took in a deep breath. And leaned against the wall. 

Kai told you that you weren't allowed in the basement, it was his house so he had the right. But you've been living in that house for the past 4 years, you've cleaned that house multiple times and kept it up to date. It's just as much as your house as it is Kai's, so you were going down into the basement. 

You walked down the steps quietly, just encase there was someone still down there. And there was. You peered down so you could see but was still hidden from anyone's eyes. Kai and Meadow sat across each other with their pinkies linked. 

Anxiety, jealousy, and insecurity surged through your veins. But you had to see what they were doing. They talked lowly but from what you heard Meadow said something about 'Housewives' and 'Alcoholics'. You thought it was no big deal but it seemed to anger Kai because he suddenly raised his hand and smacked Maedow across the face, hard. Making her fall and hit the ground. 

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth. 

"ARE YOU GOING TO WASTE MY TIME!?" His screaming startled you so you slowly started to back out, shutting the basement door behind you softly. Your heart was racing and you felt a little lightheaded so you sat down on the couch with your head in your hands. 

You've never seen him act that way. That wasn't your Kai right there. But what if that was his true self and he just used this fake version of himself around you?

It wasn't long before Meadow came up the stairs, trying to make everything okay. She didn't even say goodbye as she closed the front door behind her. Kai came up next and your heart started racing. His fists were clenched and he had a scowl on his face. You stayed quiet waiting for him to make a move and he did.

He slowly started walking to the couch and flopped down next to you making you bounce with it. He groaned and rubbed his forehead. 

"Kids at school?" He asks not looking at you. 

"Mhm." 

"Good, that means we're alone." He says and suddenly wraps his arms around you and roughly tried to pull you into his lap. You gasped and shoved him away, almost falling off the couch. Kai looked at you in confusion, more like as if you went crazy. 

"I-I have to go get groceries for lunch and dinner." You said shakily and walked away. Kai frowned and his eyes followed you to watch you grab your bag. He stood up and leaned against a support, he then dig into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. 

"Go get everything and pay with this." He says and holds out his debit card. "Get yourself something nice too." You hesitantly grabbed the card and tossed it into your bag. 

"Thank you." You walked past him but he grabbed your arm and dragged you back.

“You can’t leave without giving me a kiss from those perfect lips.” He started to lean in and you let out a small sigh. You didn’t want him to get angry so you complied and pecked his lips. “Hey-.” You cut him off.

“Gotta go.” You left quickly before he could say or do anything, leaving him standing there in confusion. 

-

You came back home and unloaded everything, all by yourself. While Kai typed away on his computer, not even sparing you a glance. 

You’ve never been scared to talk to Kai because you always believed he was a good man with some issues. You reorganized the fridge and pantry and put all the food in its place. And as you did so you didn’t notice Kai start to walk up behind you. He peered over your shoulder and his chin dug into your shoulder. The slight pain and ticking made you tense up. 

“Why do you keep tensing? Relax doll.” 

“I-I can’t.” You didn’t turn around just kept pulling things from the bags. Kai chuckled and put both of his hands on either side of you and rested them on the counter, trapping you. 

“Come on, you’ve been acting weird and denied me your sweet perfect pussy this morning.” He cooed in your ear and reached down to grab your cunt through your leggings. You whimpered and grabbed his wrist. 

“Stop.” Once again, another rejection but this time Kai let out a low rumble. He flipped you around and shoved you into the counter.

“Why do you keep saying no?” He pushed himself flush against you and you stared up at him in fear. 

“I-I-.”

“SPEAK!”

“I SAW YOU HIT MEADOW!” You say and squeeze your eyes shut. “I went down there to talk to you about something, and I saw you smack her.” He stayed quiet and backed up.

“I thought I told you too never go down there.” 

“I know.”

“THEN WHY DID YOU!?” He swung his arm at you and you instantly cowered down and shielded your face. You didn’t see but Kai’s shoulders fell and he pulled his hair slightly.

“Please don’t.” You whimpered and suddenly there was a thud. You opened your eyes and searched for Kai but he wasn’t there, so you looked down. 

He was on his knees in front of you looking down. 

“Kai?” He looked up and raised himself on his knees. He grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him so he could bury his face into your stomach. 

“I'd never hurt you or the kids, you just saw me disciplining Meadow.” 

“Why?” Tears started to brim in your eyes. 

“She wasn’t being respectful of my time baby.” He grabbed your hands and kissed them. You swallowed bard and tears started falling. 

“What am I to you Kai? Your housewife, mother of your children, what?” Kai took in a deep breath and started to sit back and pulled you down gently with him. You were hesitating clearly.

“Shhh it’s okay, I won't hurt you.” You softly landed on the floor and he pulled you to straddle him. “You baby are my person, the person I can come home to and be vulnerable. And everyone knows I hate that. You’re my everything baby.” You let out a shuddering cry and Kai pressed your foreheads together. “I'm sorry I scared you.” 

You didn’t respond, just pushed yourself into his body. He kissed the side of your head before grabbing your hair and gently pulling your head back. There was a small moment of just staring into each other's eyes until Kai slammed his lips on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he started to push you down to the floor. 

“Not on the floor.” You mumbled against his lips. 

“Yes on the floor.” He pulled away and buried his hands up your shirt. “I'm going to marry you, you’ll be officially the queen.” 

“Aren’t I already, your followers all fucking respect me.” You say and he pinches your skin making you gasp and buck your hips. 

“I love when you talk like that.” He started to take his shirt off and you stopped him by placing a hand over his chest.

“I forgive you, Kai.” You reached up and stoked his cheek. He turned his head and kissed the palm. You pushed your crotch against him to make his bulge rub your clothed clit slightly. 

“So needy.” You look back and looked at the clock on the stove from an upside-down angle.

“We’ll send Winter to get the kids.”

-

A/n- hope you guys liked this:) I'm thinking of writing a series of one-shots set in this fics storyline

[wastingawayinmyroom]

arabella by arctic monkeys is a bangerrrrrr

here's the dorlene royalty au @percesdead and @dont-fiddle-with-my-riddles were dying for lol

...

She was very bold.

That's the first thing Princess Dorcas Meadowes noticed about the new guard. She was not like the other servants and knights of the castle, doing their duties and keeping their heads down. No, not this knight. This girl, no matter the cost, could not keep her nose out of royal affairs to save her life. She'd meddle and prod and set Dorcas' mother on fire with her antics, so much that Queen Meadowes almost threw her out once.

But, as time passed, she found that the nosy girl proved to be helpful sometimes.

It was right after a "meeting", as she came to call the time she spent with various suitors. Her mother had yelled again, angry at her bad performance, wishing her daughter would show more interest in these men that would bring gifts and promises but no affection. Her mother wasn't a bad woman; just a very stressed woman, since Dorcas was of ripe age to marry and had not even set her sights on anyone specific.

"You need to grow up," her mother had spat, angrily. "Marriage isn't some type of lovely romance. Lovely romances... well, I had one, with your father. And look where it got me."

That last part had hurt, because Dorcas wasn't sure whether her mother was referring to the shame of being associated with a peasant, or the shame of Dorcas herself. So she'd ran to her quarters, secluded herself in the bed chamber, and sobbed her life out, because she knew she wouldn't be doing it in a while.

"Personally," she had heard, a voice coming from the doorway. "I think marriage can be pretty cool."

The girl. The meddler. Whatever she was doing here, and whatever she had heard, seemed to be safe inside her brain along with all the other palace gossip, because she didn't sound like she had the intention of sharing. Dorcas appreciated that.

"My parents," she said, "Were perfectly happy. Like, run-off-into-the-sunset romance kind-of happy. They loved each other. They didn't marry for convenience. They were just..." She shrugged. "Together."

"They were peasants," Dorcas said. "It's a lot easier for peasants."

"What I'm saying," she continued, "Is that you might find someone, someday, that loves you, is loaded, and controls good territory. And even if you don't, I'll tell you a secret." She leaned closer. She wasn't by the door anymore, instead right next to the bed. "Cheating's always an option."

Dorcas jolted back. "You— You crazy, disgusting— I would never, ever, ever do something— I can't even find words!"

"Nice to know I leave you speechless," she said, smirking. "Names's Marlene."

[shardminds]

all is for love, is for mind

pairing: elain archeron x lucien vanserra rating: g for god this is tame wc: 1k and a bit also available on ao3!

warnings: literally none, this is sappy as hell (some mention of canon typical past 'trauma' i.e. greysen, hyburn, the aftermath etc)

Lulled by the song of the wind as it called through the valley, Elain watched the clouds form impossible shapes, carried on the same breeze that cooled her heated skin, and asked the only question she had left. “What does love feel like?”

a/n: wrote this between flu med induced naps. you’re welcome. canon in the way that i took actual canon outside and shot it then rifled through its chest like a crone trying to divine the future but then only keeping the parts i needed to write this. if you see any typos, that's on me.

Somewhere between the border of Summer and Autumn, in a sprawling tall grass meadow littered with wildflower blooms that swayed to the cool breeze, Elain thought of only one thing. 

A simple question, really. Elementary to most. She thought she had the answer once. But old memories seen through human eyes had turned tattered around the edges in her mind, like sketches touched too many times, her fingers dark with charcoal smudges every time she dared to think on them too long. Tainted by the actions that followed — Hyburn, the Cauldron, the dark. Each time she saw a little less, each day she missed them a little more. 

She’d been happy, as a human. After their fortune returned and favour saw fit to grace them again — she knew now of its origin, how the glamour of belonging had shadowed all else. Part of her wanted to thank Tamlin. Another, less familiar part, would only ever crave his suffering. Perhaps she felt the dark ache of guilt about it now, knowing the suffering Feyre endured to ensure her ignorance, but she had been happy before Hyburn came — happy and blissfully unaware of circumstances beyond the wall. 

Her garden thrived, she found comfort in old friends and new, a good man she adored knelt before her father to ask for her hand. Life was simple then. She gave everything she had to Greysen beneath groaning boughs of ash trees, in the circle of his arms, skirts pushed to her waist. Rough scratch of gnarled roots against her back, the only memory that hadn’t faded with time. To touch the smooth bark of those same trees now— Elain had many regrets. 

And then there was this; a life she’d never asked for, that she’d never wanted. Irrevocably changed in the dark waters of creation. Everything she had, ripped away to nothing. She never saw that garden bear fruit, her friends never enquired after her (not that she would ever know), and her betrothed — his eyes held such violence as he tore out her heart and threw it to her feet, wet and thumping. 

Those memories were still fresh, in all their visceral clarity. 

A warm cloak, chestnuts and bonfires and petrichor, auburn and russet and gold. Mate he said, the most beautiful male she’d ever seen, as if the word meant anything in the wake of such encompassing loss. 

At first, it was darkness. Impenetrable. Elain could barely move with it. And then, a heartbeat. It followed her like a shadow, in the walls, in the floor, seeping through the stone to taunt her every moment, both sleeping and waking. But she could not bring herself to resent it, as much as she longed to. 

Her mind told her stories, a great many tales, of things that had and could and would happen. Faces and locations unfamiliar to her plagued her fitful dreams. There was no shaking them. 

She was cared for like glass. An object so delicate, as if to speak too loudly would shatter her completely.  

Through it all, he was there. In her head, in her dreams, a chord weaved taught between her ribs. She avoided him, and yet he stayed. She sought the favour of another, but he never wavered. He listened when others did not, fought for her cause whilst others watched helplessly as she wasted away. Even when he wasn’t there, Elain could see him, feel him, in the visions the dark had gifted her on her rebirth. 

Once, she’d seen him visit her father’s grave. Kneeling, he placed four white chrysanthemums in the dirt. The vision drifted, as they often did, into something else, but Elain was haunted by those flowers. Grieving flowers. The stark white of them against dark earth such a bright contrast in the starlight. They’d arrived at the battle together, their acquaintance obviously a result of that, but why? For her? For himself? 

She had Rhysand take her there the next morning, only to be met by four wilted stems at the foot of the headstone. 

Rhysand held her as she cried. Her sister’s mate, for all his faults, at least understood this.

The next time he arrived, announced by Cassian as they entered the river house, Elain sought him out, like a sunflower to the sun. Resisting such gravity was impossible, as much as she’d once tried. Whatever this was, whatever it could be, she wanted to try again. Thankfully, the rest came easily. 

Lulled by the song of the wind as it called through the valley, Elain watched the clouds form impossible shapes, carried on the same breeze that cooled her heated skin, and asked the only question she had left. 

“What does love feel like?” 

Lucien Vanserra, in all his sun-kissed glory, rolled to his side to face her, head resting on his palm. His golden eye caught by the light, glinting with promise.

“What do you mean, Elain?” 

“To love, or be loved,” she said, shifting to meet his gaze. “How does it feel?”

A furrow formed in his brow, never marring the beauty of him. Not even his scars had the power to do that. She doubted anything would. “Don’t you know?”

She turned away, back to the clouds overhead and their mercurial patterns. Yes? No? Her love for her sisters was sometimes fraught with tension, with too many things they hadn’t quite forgiven yet, but it was better than it ever was before — more equal, more permanent. The love she once had for Graysen had been relief, to be wanted after such hardship had been a gift at the time, but his cruelty had revealed it for what it was; possession. She loved the Inner Circle in their own way — their acceptance of her into their family in the wake of such devastation was a kindness she had never been afforded as a human, but they did not know her past the surface. She did not want to be a fragile thing forever. She didn’t want to be fragile at all. 

Lucien, for some reason, felt different. Lucien and his patience, his understanding. He saw through the veils she hid behind and did not flinch away. He gave her space when she needed, fought when she wanted, and took her from the dark place she’d been secluded to, partially by her own merit. He’d shown her Summer, Spring and Autumn. Winter, Dawn and Day. Velaris was beautiful, truly, but it did not feel like home. At least, not without him. 

She felt the bond simmering between them, a golden thread of light binding two souls. It begged to be acknowledged, accepted. She thought about it often, these days. How easy it would be to hand him a still-warm pastry — crisp apples wrapped in a choux crust, topped with almond flakes — and kiss him after, sugar sweet and breathless. How easy it would be to kiss him at all. 

“Elain.”  He said, soft palm meeting her cheek, easing it to face him once more. His russet eye full of something intangible, like if she tried to catch it, it would slip between her fingers like smoke. 

“Hmm?” 

“Like this,” He smiled, softly. “Love feels like this.”

[dragon-creates]

Royally Screwed!

Prince Jax of the Kingdom of Laphria was…well, he was a jackass. He kept pranking the servants, threw the wildest parties within the castle and always kept trying to run away from his duties. King Kaleb and his wise Queen Quinn were at their limit, hoping for something to turn their son’s head around. Their prayers were answered when a traveling circus visits the kingdom, including a talented jester named Pomni. Jax’s breath was taken the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew that no matter what, he had to have her. It would be a lot easier though if she didn’t hate his guts.

Read on AO3

1/2/3/4/5

we have a new fic!!! this might not be part 2 of 5+1 but think of this as a little treat until that comes out in the new year. truth be told, this au already had a life of its own before I started writing, artiesrump on twitter came up with the idea on one of their posts and then allhailthequeenuwu continued with making some awesome concept art for it. one thing led to another and I started planning this out during writing the last chapter of 5+1 and here's the first chapter! I really hope you guys enjoy this cause this au is gonna be a lot of fun!

Nothing You Can Take From Me

The kingdom of Laphria.

It was a place of peace and prosperity. Home to beautiful rolling fields and meadows, a sanctuary to its residents and weary travellers and cherished each time the sun and moon would rise, for it was the sign that another beautiful day was upon them. This land was ruled none other than the beloved King Kaleb and his wife Queen Quinn. A couple with the kindest hearts that anyone had ever seen, and I love so strong that it could be seen from oceans away.

Truly, Laphria was perfect…apart from-

“That’s it! I’ve had it!”

The bedroom door of the king and queen’s bedroom slammed open, with the two-chess piece’s rubbing sleep from their bleary eyes as a maid with rubber skin and pink hair stormed in, covered from head to toe in confetti and leftover pudding.

“Oh dear,” once they king’s eyes were focused, he realised the state that the maid was in, “Another party?”

“Yes!” she snapped as a few other servants came in behind her, all covered in the same mess as she was. “How did he make it worse than the last one?! There were spiders in the chandeliers your majesty. Spiders! What kind of party does the prince need that involves spiders?!”

“Well that’s definitely new,” the queen mumbled, not pleased with this at all. She turned to her husband, “I believe we owe our son a chat darling.”

“Agreed,” he nodded, “That boy needs his head screwed tighter before someone knocks it off if he’s behaving this recklessly.”

They threw their comforters off, with the servants and two stationed guards following behind as the couple trekked to their son’s room.

When they arrived at the prince’s room, they had hoped to find a lazy lump of purple fur within the blankets and sheets of the bed. However it seemed that Prince had different ideas. The sheets were still there, only they were tied together into a rope and thrown out his open window.

“Oh no,” the queen groaned as her husband facepalmed. “Not again.”

From a small distance they could hear the boyish and cheerful whoops of a young man along with the stomping hoofs of a horse running further away from the castle.

“Guards!” the king spoke up, alerting the two next to him. “Gather a search party and go after him, I’ll save the chat for when he gets back.”

“Yes your highness,” the wooden toy soldiers chorused, saluting their king before running off.

The king groaned, “Why did the lord make our son so difficult?”

.

.

.

The air, oh just smell that fresh air! That party last night was the perfect distraction for him to get out of there. And the spiders! That was so much better than the centipede trick he pulled last time! And now he was out of the castle, away from his parents pestering him and the servants eyeing his every move. No lessons, no fencing and best of all, no responsibilities. Just him and his freedom.

He eyed the sun rising from across the field, he had been out for a good few hours, making the guards lose their trail of him was the highlight of his morning. Anyway, now was not the time to think about that. He was free to do anything he wanted right now, what should be the first thing he could do? There was the bakery down the street, he could snatch a few loafs down there. Or maybe he could go the seamstress down the street and see if her daughter wanted to ‘spend some time with him' and maybe buy a new dress for his sweet mother. Wait, no, he had a better idea! The firework shop down the street, those would be perfect to create a little show for everyone! Oh this was going to be perfect!

He took off again, lifting up the hood of his cloak over his head to conceal his identity. Once he arrived in the village, he took his horse into a spare stable and kept him there before making his way to the shop. He was able to sneak in and out thanks to his combat training (and he begrudgingly left a few coins behind because damn his lovely mother and her teachings of morals).

He ran to the village centre, laying the fireworks in an upwards motion before striking a match and running into the nearest alleyway to watch the show go down.

3

2

1

Boom!

The confused and petrified screams of the villagers were nothing but melodies in his ears. He couldn’t hold back his cackles as some ducked for cover at the loud boom, others had dropped their shopping and started sobbing, some even jumped at least ten feet into the air and landed on the rooftops. An obnoxiously loud snicker escaped him when a spare firework failed to soar into the sky like its siblings, instead it chased someone around until he fell to the ground and it smashed into a shop window. Truly, this was the best morning he had in a while.

His fun was ruined however when the familiar sound of clanking armour and huffs of horses made him snap out of his trance. The castle guards were coming, great. And that little light show was definitely a massive help for them to find him. Only Prince Jax of Laphria could pull off a stunt like that. He didn’t want to be caught, not yet anyway. He wanted to have a little bit more fun before going back to his gilded cage. There was a pile of crates and an old market stall with the cover still on top, if he could climb on those and blend into the shadows of the walls, he could be able to hide until the guards leave. Hehe, Jax you are an absolute genius he smugly thought to himself.

And so he did just that, he climbed on the crates, jumped on the old stall and grabbed the edge of the roof while resting his feet on the side of the wall. Hidden within the shadows and from the guards. He was truly too smart for his own good. But just before he could properly pat himself on the back, there was a tiny meow above him.

He looked up, and right next to his hand gripping the roof was a small brown tabby kitten.

Mew

“Uh, hi?” The prince gave him an awkward wave.

Mew!

Jack cringed, that was a little bit too loud. The last thing he needed was to be outed to the guards by a tiny round ball of fluff. “Keep it down, would ya!” he hissed at the kitten, “You’re gonna blow my cover!”

The kitten tilted his small head, turning to look at the guards and then back to Jax. The prince sighed in relief when he kept quiet, returning his focus to the soldiers when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He whipped his head back round to see to kitten pulling at the cuff of the fabric with its teeth. “Hey, hey! Quit it!” he tried to shove him away with his free hand, but the feline had a tight grip and refused to let go.

Jax bit his lip, trying to keep an eye of the search party. There was no way he was going to get found out because of a stupid stray cat!

He let out a yelp when he felt a paw swipe at his hand, along with a hint of claws. Now the kitten thought his hand was a toy, and that this little interaction of theirs was now a game. “No, no!” Jax pushed him away again, but the feline just kept coming back with his claws now fully out and leaving little scars on the prince’s hand. “Piss off!”

The kitten pulled back, Jax swore he was literally glaring at him. He gulped when the kitten leaned back on his haunches and wiggled his tail as though he were a little lion hunting his prey. “Don’t you dare,” Jax growled.

…mew

The feline wasn’t put off by the empty threat however, launching himself onto Jax’s hand, biting and scratching as though his hand were nothing more than a scratch post. “AAAHHH YOU LITTLE-” he cried out in pain as he let go the ledge to escape the attack on his fingers, unfortunately that action sent him face first in the pile of crates – which were filled to the brim with grapes, soiling his clothes.

The guards turned at the sudden noise, only to see their prince covered in purple stains and looking as if he emerged from the greatest battle of his life.

Jax lifted himself from the squashed fruit underneath him, cringing as he felt the fruit’s liquid seeped from his clothes and onto his fur. He dramatically groaned when the guards crowded him. “So, did you have fun with your wild goose chase?” he remarked at the soldiers glared at him.

.

.

.

Jax practically stomped throughout the castle as the guards guided him to the throne room, there was no doubt that his parents wanted to have some colourful words with him about the recent stunts he pulled.

The doors of the throne opened, revealing a disgruntled King Kaleb and a disappointed Queen Quinn. Jax winced, he could tell that he was in for an earful.

“You! Young man,” Kaleb got off from his throne and descended down the steps below it, “You are restricted to the castle grounds. Until I give my word, you are forbidden to step one foot out of these walls unless you have my permission.”

“Or what?” Jax rolled his eyes as he plopped onto the last step, slouching in an un-princely manner. “Are you gonna force me to play a metaphorical game of chess and how ‘my attitude is a disgrace to the people of our kingdom and it somehow represents the chess pieces’ of the game and all that other shit.”

“Don’t mock me Jax,” Kaleb grumbled, making his way closer to his son. “You are the crown prince and heir to Laphria, you must treat your role with respect!”  

Jax turned suddenly, glaring at his father, “It’s also my life and I should have the freedom to do what I want with it.”

The king was about to say another word, a slight growl leaving his throat before he was stopped by his wife’s voice.

“Kabel, please sit down. The last thing we need is for you to have a stroke.” Quinn stood and made her way towards the two men. “Jax, you were born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations. You are an important figure to our people, one day the crown will go to you. You have to know what it truly means to be leader. But first, you have to accept the responsibility that comes with it, not just as a royal, but as one of your people.”

Jax sighed, he could deal with his father giving him lectures (it was rather funny seeing the old chess piece get riled up), but his mother was an entirely different story. If the rest of the world was cold stone, Quinn was a diamond. His father was a good man, kind and caring to his son while teaching him everything to know about the kingdom’s past present and future, but Quinn was always there to hold him whenever he was sad, help him with a hard lesson when he got to frustrated if he didn’t know the answer, taught him the values of human kindness even if the world kept spitting it back out. Just seeing that look on her face, knowing he did the complete opposite of what she taught him, it felt as though he were carrying the worst plague known to man.

“Forgive me mother, but shouldn’t I be the one to carry out how I choose to live my life than be restricted with what I’m expected to pick and choose?” he stood, facing Quinn. “And have you ever considered that perhaps I’m not worthy to be given the crown?”

“No, I don’t,” Quinn admitted. “A normal person who wasn’t worthy would not be trying so hard to fail.”

Shit. His mother always read him like an open book.  “And what are you gonna do to stop me?” he retorted, trying to reel himself back in order to save whatever natural charm he had left.

“I will simply deny you the crown and…um, live forever!” Kaleb declared, his wife shaking her head at his ridiculous outburst.

“Finally,” Jax cheered, clapping his hands. “Thank you father. Now there’s something we can both agree on.”

Kaleb grumbled under his breath as his sudden mistake, letting his pride getting in the way of his logic were incidents that happened on the odd occasion, but it still meant that they did happen despite the rareness of it. Surprise, surprise, it was caused by his son. “You’re dismissed,” Kaleb waved his hand, “Take this time to at least attempt to reflect back on your actions.”

“No can do,” Jax bowed mockingly before the guards came back in to escort him to his room.

Once their son was gone and the doors were shut did Quinn turn back to her husband, “Seriously? Telling our son – who is doing everything in his path to avoid responsibility – that you’re going to not make him king was your best idea?”

“I know, I know,” Kaleb sighed. “Our son has a talent for making me lose my head sometimes. I just…I’m at a loss here Queenie, I don’t know what to do.”

She took his hands in her when he said his nickname for her, a silent calling for help. “Kinger,” She replied with the nickname she had for him in return, “I know how you’re feeling. It’s hard seeing him act like this, but he can only be helped if he allows someone to do so. But I have a feeling that something will strike that boy with realisation soon. He’s a good man and will be a great leader someday. We just need to let him find his sense of self first.”

“I hope you’re right,” Kinger sighed, “I think Jax is making me age faster than I should be.”

Queenie let out a small laugh, “Don’t worry, you’re still that same young man I met by the lake at midnight.”

“I still remember it like it was yesterday,” he said, letting the memory play behind his eyes. “You looked so beautiful, and I kept getting tongue-tied trying to figure out what to say to you.”

“It was adorable though,” she cooed. “Just wait until Jax gets his head turned, that will certainly be fun to watch.”

“Huh, now there’s an interesting thought,” Kinger chuckled. “Our son tripping over his feet over a girl or boy.”

“Perhaps that will knock some sense into him,” Queenie suggested as she rested her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“Only time will tell my dear,” Kinger patted her hand, “Only time will tell.”

.

.

.

Jax slammed his door, throwing back the curtains of his canopy bed before dumping himself face first onto his bed, letting out a load groan into his pillow. He was almost free, almost able to do anything he wanted without fear of consequences. If it wasn’t for that puny little stray he wouldn’t have gotten caught. That’s it, he now deemed cats as the worst animal in the world.

And what his mother said?! ‘Trying too hard to fail?’ Oh please, why couldn’t his parents except that he just wasn’t fit to be king? It would save them all both stress and time. There were plenty of other worthy noble figures in the kingdom, just toss them the crown and everything will be fine! He flipped over in his bed and onto his back, rubbing his hands over his face. He may be stubborn, but he would be damned if he didn’t inherit it from his parents.

He jumped when he heard a faint scratching sound at the doors of his balcony. He turned slowly to see a small blob at the bottom of the door window. He got up from his bed, going over and opened the doors. His stomach sank, sitting right in front of him was the stupid kitten that got him into this mess. “Oh no!” he glared at the tiny feline, “Absolutely not! You can’t come here after backstabbing me like that.”

Mew

The kitten ignored him and pattered inside, roaming around the room and taking in his surroundings. “Hey, get out!” Jax chased after him and picked the cat up by the scruff of his neck. “Don’t walk around as if you own the place!”

Mew

“Oh I get it,” Jax scowled at him, “You think you can act all cute and get whatever you want after what you just did. Well guess what fleabag? That shit won’t work on me.”

Mew

The kitten gently pressed a paw on Jax’s cheek, no claws and no malice. Just a small kitten reaching out for some affection. A lonely tiny creature…scared a hungry…despite how feral it seemed at first, all it really wanted was warmth for another being. Jax shook his head, “Nope! You are not cute,” he pointed his finger to the feline, “You hear me you are not-”

The kitten gave his finger a little lick.

Mew

Jack exhaled slowly, “I’m not gonna win this one, aren’t I?” The kitten purred against his finger, with the rabbit giving him a scratch behind his ears. “Alright fine. If you stay here at least you won’t be terrorising anyone else. I’ll accept ‘responsibility’ or whatever it was mother said. See, I’m able to do that.”

Mew

Jax shifted the kitten, sliding an arm under his chest and held him with his hand. “You’re gonna need a name first. If you’re staying here, the staff is gonna need to know what to call you,” he took a good look at the brown tabby, thinking for a moment what the best name would be for a small little feline like this. “Hhmm. How about…Motley?” The kitten only titled its head in response, “Yup, you look like a Motley.”

Motley let out a meow, purring as the prince scratched behind his ear again. Jax grimaced as he noticed dirt under the kitten’s fur, he must’ve been on the streets for some time if that amount of dirt had built up. “But first, a bath,” he declared, “The last thing we need are your paws trailing mud everywhere. Just be lucky my mother didn’t catch you, the last time I did that was the first time I believed the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was about to become real.”

Motley went silent at that, seeming as he were choosing not to test if that were true or not with the queen. “Come on,” Jax carried him to the bathroom, “Time for a bath.”

The kitten let out a protesting mewl at that, Jax rolling his eyes. To be fair, he showed some resistance to baths when he was younger as well so he couldn’t fault Motley for that.

He stepped into the marbled bathroom and moved to the porcelain tub, turning on the water and testing the temperature before putting in the plug and plopping Motley down. The kitten was not happy at all with the sudden change, already hissing and clawing at Jax’s hands, trying to get out of the bathtub as the rabbit grimaced at the new scratches.

Yup, cats were just delightful.

.

.

.

Despite the gruelling process, he finally managed to get Motley clean. The kitten was glaring at him the whole time he was getting dried off. Honestly, Jax felt a little smug about it. Revenge for selling me out you little shit.

Although, there was something quite heartwarming about all of this once the kitten was dry. He lay on the mattress, nuzzling the soft blankets underneath him as he though it were the first time he rested on a bed. Fully trusting someone with his safety after a life on the streets.

Jax felt a smile on his lips, before shaking it off and picked up Motley under his chest again, “Come on. You can sleep later, let’s get some food in you first before my parents send the cavalry to my room just so I get to dinner.”

Mew

Motley seemed to like the sound of that, climbing up Jax’s arms and curled himself around the prince’s neck, with the rabbit automatically giving his head a scratch. “Yeah, yeah. Little attention whore.”

The cat didn’t seem to take notice of the prince’s comment, rubbing his face against the prince’s cheek (Jax was desperately trying not to coo at the adorableness of it all).

He made his way down the halls, not caring for the servants who stared at the new little creature round his shoulders. All he wanted was food and then sleep, maybe plan another escape plan if he had the energy for it. Finally, he made it to the dining room, his parents already waiting for him while chatting excitedly in hushed voices.

Now that intrigued Jax, not by much but still, “What are you two going on about?”

His parents turned at the sound of his voice, suddenly gawking at him as though he had grown a third head. “Uh…Jax?” Queenie spoke.

“What?” Jax placed a hand on his hip.

Kinger raised a finger to the feline, “Who is…um, your friend?”

Jax switched his gaze to Motley, the kitten staring at the two monarchs with wide eyes, “Oh him? This is Motley, he’s the worst thing in the world but I guess he’s my cat now. You don’t mind if he sticks around, would ya?”

“I-” Queenie was genuinely at a loss for words. Yes Jax had brought back to the castle much odder things – and people – but never once did she expect that he would bring back a kitten. “Well, he does look very sweet.”

“Here,” he lifted the cat off his neck and placed him down in his mother’s lap, “You can take him for a while, I need a minute to get away from the stench of kitten breath.”

The queen was about to say something to Jax, before Motley rubbed his head against her hand, silently requesting for her to pet him. “Oh,” Queenie cooed, unable to resist the small creature’s sweet eyes peering up at her as she ran her fingers down his back, “Well aren’t you adorable.”

“Adorably annoying,” Jax muttered under his breath.

“And yet you still chose to keep him,” Kinger retorted. He didn’t have a mouth, but if he did Jax swore he would definitely be smirking at him right now.

Jax scoffed at his father, pulling up a chair and immediately slumping once he sat down. The chef’s brought in the dishes and lifted up the lids to start serving the royal family their food consisting of mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, freshly baked bread and a whole chicken - along with a little bowl of food for Motley once they heard about the surprise guest. As soon and Jax tucked into his meal, he turned back to his mother, “So, what were you two giggling about before I walked in?”

Queenie perked up at the mention, “I’m so glad you asked! There’s a travelling circus going around and is coming to visit our kingdom! There are lion tamers, tightrope walkers, even a contortionist!”

“Sound the same as every other circus,” Jax muttered as he played with his food.

“Your mother has been really excited for this,” Said Kinger, “Apparently they have a star performer that everyone is obsessed with.”

“Oh please,” Jax stabbed his fork into a carrot, “What could be so special about them that they’ve got everyone tripping over themselves for?”

“Word says that she has a special talent with magic tricks, so good that no one can tell how she pulled it off,” Queenie explained, “That and she has a beautiful singing voice.”

“So she can sing a little and show someone their spade card, so what?” Jax said, “Anyone will put a label on someone to promote something because they know it’s gonna attract an audience. Like dangling a toy in front of a cat…no offense Motley.”

Mew

“Regardless,” Queenie sighed, “As the royal family, we’ve agreed to watch them on opening night when they arrive. And you’re coming to Jax, no exceptions.”

“You’re kidding?” Jax groaned, slamming his fork onto his plate at his mother’s words.

“Please Jax,” Queenie’s eyes softened towards him, “I understand the apprehension, but this is something that I really want to do with us all together. Not just as an expectation of us as royals to see an event, but to spend time as a family to see a fun show. Please sweetheart, for me?”

Jax’s heart twisted at the look on his mother’s face. He sighed, he didn’t like putting on all this stress for his parents, for his mother took it harder the most. She saw so much good in him, so much faith in him in both as a prince and son. His father still expected more from him, but his mother – no matter how many times he was an absolute prick to her – always saw the best in Jax, somehow knowing that deep down there was that light that needed to be reached. It was annoying…but that was what he loved about his mother. He should at least to this for her, she’s been through enough as it was.

“Fine,” Jax sighed, picking up his cutlery today, “For you mother. But I’m bringing Motley too, he has to suffer with me.”

Mew

“I think I would enjoy his company very much,” Queenie nodded, petting the kitten, “After all, he’s part of the family now.”

“Oh, great,” Jax muttered, sipping some water.

“You’re the one who brought him home,” Kinger teased in a sing-song voice.

The prince scowled, muttering, “Shut up Dad.”

.

.

.

The theatre was packed. Anyone who was anyone in the kingdom had all been invited to see the travelling circus, but more so, they were curious about the star performer that no one could stop talking about. The whole theatre was built as a circle, for the audience to watch while a door on the far side of the circular ring was connected to what people theorised to be the tent.

The royal family had a special booth reserved only for them to oversee the show from the best angle, wearing their best attire and crowns. Jax slouched in his chair, ignoring his father’s bickering for him to sit up. He really didn’t want to be here, but his mother looked so excited. At least he brought Motley so that he was forced to indulge in the prince’s misery. Although he wouldn’t bet on the cat being that upset, after all he was well fed, groomed and sat on Jax’s lap to watch an amazing show.

“You’ll see Jax,” Queenie whispered to him amongst the chatter, “There’s gonna be something in this show that’ll leave you breathless.”

“If that happens, I’ll eat my crown,” he muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Kinger retorted, stifling his laughter at Jax’s annoyed expression.

The lights dimmed, spotlight centring the stage as the crowds went silent. Jax scoffed, everyone got excited way too easily over a room doing dark. He ran his hand over Motley’s head, the kitten’s eyes entranced by the bright colours. Honestly he should have expected it from him, he was a cat after all, you could swing a necklace in front of him and he would think it was the best thing in the world.

The drums rolled, and from the back of the set-up tent, a clown ran out onto stage. “Welcome one and all to our circus!” he bellowed, the crowd applauding madly in response. Jax clapped slowly in an unimpressed manner while Kinger and Queenie gave out a cheer. “My name is Kaufmo and I will both your ringmaster and clown for this evening! We have a very special line up for all you lovely folks! From lions! To tightropes! And our own special star that I know you’ve all been waiting for!”

The crowd went rapid at that sentence. Jax just scoffed, everyone was such a sheep these days.

“But I won’t keep you waiting any longer, let’s get right to the sho-woah!” Kaufmo suddenly slipped on a conveniently placed banana peel before landing face first into the ground, making the crowd erupt into laughter.

Really? Jax thought to himself, this is what gets people going?

“Oh, sorry ladies and gentlemen,” Kaufmo brushed himself off with a goofy smile, “But I’m sure we can move on from here.” As if timed perfectly, a bucket of water fell on his head, soaking him to the brim.

Jax sighed at the audience overexcitement of the shenanigans. “Everyone knows that this is rehearsed, right?” he whispered to his mother, “This is so cliché!”

“Oh shush,” Queenie waved a hand at him dismissively, “It’s funny Jax. Just have fun.”

Jax feel back into his seat, trying to seek an accomplice in Motley, but he seemed to be as addicted to this as the rest of the crowd.

The clown continued with that as his act, tripping and falling while telling jokes left and right at the same time. Jax found the whole thing pretentious, why was everyone acting like they hadn’t seen a clown before? Were they really that desperate for entertainment?

As soon as he finished with his act, a ragdoll with red hair wandered on stage, waving and smiling sweetly at the audience while carrying a couple of hoops over her shoulder. Kaufmo patted her on the shoulder as she set up the hoops before he went back into the exit of the tent. It seemed that the ragdoll seemed to be caught up with her setting up, for two lions prowled out with her back turned.

The crowd murmured as they stalked closer, sitting back on their haunches, ready to pounce. Everyone’s cries to the Ragdoll fell on deaf ears as she continued to hum and prepare. Suddenly, the lions pounced! The crowd screamed! The ragdoll whipped round, and raised both of her hands, placing it each on the lions’ noses respectively. The audience gasped. She moved, the lions going backwards with her as she led them to the corner of the ring.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out two strips of meat. “Stay,” she commanded, the lions obeying her word.

From the top of the ring, there were jumps set up, each one of them a different height and climbing up like a staircase on each side until meeting at the same height in the middle. Both lions went on each side of the steps, jumping and climbing until they reached the top. With a snap of a finger, the first lion jumped down, standing on all fours in a circle while the second lion jumped on its back, balancing there for a few seconds as the audience applauded.

But it wasn’t over yet, the second lion jumped down and both trotted and separated themselves to the two set up rings respectively. With another snap of her finger, both lions jumped through at the same time. Jax put his elbow on the arm of his throne, resting his cheek in his palm. Woah, animals jumping, so revolutionary. The ragdoll disappeared off stage for a moment, returning with a flaming torch as the audience murmured. Everyone faces dropped once they realised what the flame was for. Without sparing a moment, she lit both the rings on fire.

She snapped her finger, the lions ran, without a moment of hesitation, they jumped.

The crowds held their breathes, some even shutting their eyes out of fear.

Both lions came out unscathed and the fire went out. There was a beat, before the audience cheered and whistled and the ragdoll and lions bowed before going back off stage.

“That was incredible!” Queenie exclaimed, “I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it!”

“Imagine the courage one must have for that!” Kinger agreed, “That young woman was fearless!”

Jax shook his head at his parents’ antics, “Oh come on! No one actually believed that they were gonna go on fire! There wouldn’t even be a circus at this point if that happened!”

“Jax, you have to admit that her skills were impressive,” Kinger pointed out.

“You’re just easily amused,” the prince huffed. Motley was kneading Jax’s trousers beneath his paws, copying how the lions kneaded the ground each time before they performed a trick. Jax patted his head, “Sorry to break it to ya buddy, but you’re only gonna be the size of a foot when you’re older. Might as well give up on those lion dreams of yours.”

Mew

Someone new came on, a pink and yellow amalgamation of parts who looked as though they were going to fall apart any minute. Their routine was simple enough, twisting and stretching their limbs in the most unbelievably flexible ways. The audience oo’ed and aa’ed at how far he could take it without even showing a wince on her face. 

“He’s cheating,” Jax muttered, “He can literally detach himself, it doesn’t count.”

This time it was Motley’s turn to shush him, swiping his paw at the prince’s shirt with a mewl. Jax pulled a face at the kitten but quieted down anyway.

Once the contortionist went back off stage, the lights started to go upwards, revealing a tightrope with two performers at the top. The first seemed to be a woman with the head of a Moon on her shoulders, while the other was a man around her age who shared the appearance of the Sun. Nodding to the Sun, the Moon began her routine. Tip toeing across the rope, seeming as though to fall off – to the audience’s collective shock – before breaking out into a pirouette, as though there wasn’t a fifty-foot drop beneath her.

The Sun started to do the same, spinning on one foot before both of them stopped at the same time. Both of them ran to the middle, taking one another’s hand before producing canes from their sides. The two began to perform a little tap dance on the rope, waving their canes around without a care in the world with grins on their faces. While the audience was losing their mind, Jax inspected his nails to make sure there wasn’t any dirt in them, far less interested than everyone else.

The Sun and Moon ran off back to the ends of each side of the rope, pulling out a unicycle and mounted them before cycling back onto the rope. They went back and forth, pulling out a few small balls from their waistcoats and began to juggle them,

Jax was sure he had read about this scene in a book before, nothing new here.

Finally, the duo finished and bowed for their cheers before running back off again.

The next act seemed to have the entire circus cast out, including a new member, a body of ribbons and a mask on her face. A few tables and chairs were set up as well as some sort of makeshift kitchen area. The ribbon girl seemed to be playing some sort of waitress, stumbling and shaking in an exaggerated manner. Jax groaned, realising that this was going to be a slapstick act, just great.

The act was predictable, a couple played by the ragdoll and clown were on a date, the sun and moon were bystanders and the contortionist was the owner of the pretend restaurant. The ‘waitress’ was attempting to get a meal out to the ‘couple’, but was constantly messing up. Whether it was tripping over a ‘customer’s’ foot, absentmindedly eating the food herself, even forgetting which table to bring the food to. Each mistake would lead her back to the start of her journey. It all escalated when she tripped one more time, bumping into the clown and making him get on one knee, as though he were proposing. The act ended with the ‘couple’ getting together, the other ‘customers’ being happy for them, even the ‘owner’ was happy for them and the ribbon lady keeping her fake job.

The crowd clapped again once the act was completed, Jax however felt as though he was about to fall asleep. At least there was only one act left and he would be down with this fiasco.

“Just you wait Jax,” Queenie leaned over to him, “I’ve heard far and wide that this star performer has entranced every audience she’s come across.”

“I for one am very excited,” Kinger said, “She must be very talented if she’s the most talked about.”

“As long as it’s the last act, then I’m fine,” Jax sank further in his chairs, Motley now sitting straight instead as he prepared himself for the final act.

What he didn’t know was said star performer was currently hiding within the shadow of the ceiling, taking a breath to calm her trembling nerves before she had to go on. She looked to Kaufmo within the tent, behind the scenes on the ground. He looked up to her, mouthing to her if she was okay. She nodded and closed her eyes, she could so this.

The lights dimmed one more time, as two red aerial silks fell from the roof. Jax’s eyes wondered to the top, a small trapeze swing between the two silks. He could barely see what was up there, there was a shape of a body but it wasn’t even visible. Why would anyone get excited over someone they couldn’t see-

-You can't take my past

You can't take my history

His ears perked. A voice rang out into the empty quiet like a melodic bell.

You could take my Pa

But his name's a mystery

It had to be the most beautiful thing he ever heard in his life. Soft and delicate yet commanded everyone’s attention, including his.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

The body stood, grabbing both silks in her hands and startled twirling down, the strum of a guitar started playing and the audience clapped along with the upbeat tempo. Once the lights shone on her, Jax stiffened, his voice caught in his throat and his heart started throbbing madly in his chest.

The woman holding and sitting on the silks was a jester, with short and shiny brown hair, mesmerising red and blue eyes, along with milky skin that seemed to be smooth to the touch. She wore a regular jester hat, only the bells were replaced with two gold spheres and wore a glittering red and yellow leotard with long sleeves instead of a usual get up he’d come to expect from that line of work.

And her voice, of her voice. How it charmed him, like a river, both calming yet ready to be powerful when needed. His lips began to quirk into a smile as his foot involuntarily tapped along with the music.

You can't take my charm!

You can't take my humour

You can't take my wealth

Cause it's just a rumour!

Putting her body weight into one of the silks, she let go of the other one and started to swing round the ring, putting out her hand to the audience as they tried to reach her. Once the silk slowed, she used her other hand to grab it and twirled upside down as she kept singing.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

She lifted herself up, twisting the ribbon until she was in a sitting position one knee up to her chest and her other leg pointed out.

Thinking you're so fine

Thinking you can have mine

Thinking you're in control

Thinking you'll change me

Maybe rearrange me

Think again if that's your goal!

She uncurled the silk, twirling back down to the ground in a graceful manner until her feet hit the ground and she faced the crowd. The audience went wild, shaking one another in their seats as the jester continued to dance. Jax found himself cheering along as well.

Queenie took a moment to look at her son, bewildered by the fact that he began to enjoy himself. Sure the act was amazing, but there was something else about him. His posture became more relaxed, his smile seemed to be genuinely happy and free of malice, and his eyes were locked in and focused on the jester…wait a minute. She looked back to the jester and then back at Jax before letting out a gasp of realisation.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” Kinger asked, worry lacing in tone for his wife.

“Nothing, nothing my dear,” she reassured him, “I think our son is in love.”

The jester stopped for a moment, bringing her bare feet together before lifting a hand again. She waved it around her head, a navy night blue mist appearing from it. Just like lightening, she vanished!

The crowd and Jax gasped, whipping their heads round to find where she could have gone.

Cause you can't take my sass

You can't take my talking

They followed her voice and found her in the right corner of the ring, continued her song with her harmonic voice. She waved her hand and disappeared again. This time, appearing in the royal family’s booth. Both Queenie and Kinger exclaimed in surprise and delight.

The jester made her way towards Jax, reaching out to him. His pulse thundered in his ears and heat began to rise to his cheeks. To his shock, she pulled her crown over his eyes and disappeared again, making Jax snap up and push his crown back as he tried to look for her again.

You can kiss my ass!

Then keep on walking

She was back in the middle of the ring, strutting as if nothing has happened. She waved her hand one more time, making the silks levitate on their own, surrounded by the blue mist as they neared her.

… Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

As they travelled slowly, the red silks slowly faded into the same colour as her mist, the crowd awing at the trick. Jax noticed her leotard and hat doing the same, the yellow and red disappearing, replacing it with a diamond-sequined deep blue with spaghetti straps instead.

No sir, nothing you can take from me is worth dirt

Take it cause I give it free, it won't hurt

She grabbed the silks again and lifted herself, twirling them around her until she was sitting on them like a swing.

… Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

No nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

The music quickened as she climbed up the silks again, Jax’s eyes following her every move, too entranced to look away. Both she and the music got faster, climbing and climbing and climbing until she grabbed and pulled herself back onto the trapeze swing, saluted the audience – and with one more wave of her hand, sparks erupted from her place, dazzling the audience. Once they had faded, the crowd looked back. She was gone, as if she was never there in the first place with the silks returning to their original red colour.

There was a beat.

The audience stood, cheers and screams ripping from their throats as a thunder of applause ripped through the crowd. Jax couldn’t stand due to Motley in his lap, but he was still just as loud. Motley meanwhile was looking at him, titling his head from the prince’s reaction to the jester. It intrigued the little kitten to say the least.

The entire cast ran out, including the jester, giving one final bow as the crowds cheered louder before disappearing back into the tent.

The lights went back on as everyone began to murmur and whisper to one another about how amazing the show was. Jax was left awestruck, frozen in his chair, unable to process the complete and utter dazzlement that was the singing jester.

“I take it my son has a crown he has to eat now,” Kinger chuckled, brushing his robe a little bit.

Jax didn’t reply, still stuck in his own head.

“Jax, are you alright?” Queenie asked, getting a bit worried.

“That jester…” he breathed.

Oh, now Queenie understood, her suspicions being confirmed. “I see,” she nodded slowly, “I take it you like her?”

Jax turned his head so fast that he nearly got whiplash. “Like her?” he questioned his mother, “She’s incredible! Her voice! Did you hear her voice?! It’s not like anything that I’ve heard, and the fact that she can sing while doing all that in the air! And her magic tricks! Oh mother, she was amazing!”

He caught himself when he saw both his mother and father raising both their brows at him. He decided to save himself further embarrassment, he already knew that they would tease him about this enough as it is. An idea went off in his head. The circus had a while before they went back to whatever inn they were staying at to rest, perhaps he could pay the little jester a visit before he left.

“You guys hold onto Motley for a while,” he stood, picking up the kitten as he mewled while being placed in his mother’s arms. “I’m gonna go give that jester my congratulations.”

“Uh, Jax?” Queenie said, but Jax was already running out of the booth, “Jax!”

“Oh dear,” Kinger muttered, “I believe we made a mistake.”

.

.

.

Pomni sighed with relief, her blue leotard reverting back to its yellow and red while talking off her hat as soon as she was back behind the scenes, everyone hugging one another and giving each other high fives.

“You guys did great!” Kaufmo grinned, “I’m so impressed of how are far you’ve all have come!”

“Not bad for opening night,” Zooble placed a hand on his hip, “Although I think most of it is owed to Gangle and her creative skit idea.” She gave the woman a wink, the ribboned woman blushing at her partner.

“Zooble,” she giggled as they pulled her close, “You were great too.”

“Being out there has never made me feel so alive,” Moon let out a relaxed breath, recalling the euphoria of being on the tightrope.

“I agree!” Sun beamed, practically jumping up and down with joy, “It was spectacular, amazing, show-stopping, fantastic, spectacular- oops, I said that already, didn’t I?” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

“Don’t worry about it Sun,” Ragatha patted his shoulder, using her other hand to pet her lions. “However I can’t deny that Pomni stole the show, as she always does.”

Pomni gave her a shy smile, shuffling her feet a bit, “Stop, you’ll make me flustered.”

“Because its true!” Ragatha exclaimed, the rest of the cast nodding their heads in agreement, “You’re a stable of this show!”

“A true star, and trust me, I know a lot about them,” Moon gave her an amused look.

“You were like a million stars at once!” Sun cried, “Though if you think about it, stars are also suns, so you were like a million suns! Wow!”

“I mean, I agree…I still liked Gangle the best though,” Zooble murmured.

“I always love hearing you sing Pomni,” Gangle took her hand, “You have the voice of an angel.”

Kaufmo came up and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I for one couldn’t be prouder.” He gave it a reassuring squeeze, with Pomni placing her hand on his.

“Thanks Kaufmo,” she smiled back.

“How are you doing kiddo?” he asked softly, “I saw you shaking up there before you went on. Did you have those nightmares again?”

Pomni paled. It was quite jarring how easily he could read her. Kaufmo had been her rock since day one after all, he knew better than anyone when she had hard nights. She opened her mouth to answer when someone barged into the room.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the cast of the show,” Prince Jax jeered, making himself at home, “Don’t mind me, I just wanted to thank you guys for an awesome show. Especially you little lady.” He winked at Pomni.

Pomni choked, why on earth was the prince waltzing in here unannounced? Didn’t he have princely duties to attend to? And why the hell was he calling her little lady?!

“Oh well, that’s very kind of you-” Gangle began to walk up to him but was pushed aside by him and she fell right into Zooble’s arms.

“Hey!” Zooble snarled, checking Gangle for any injuries. “What’s your problem?!”

“Excuse me,” Ragatha placed a hand on her hip, “You can’t just do that to one of our own. Not when we travelled all the way here to put on a show for you and your kingdom!”

“Look doll-face, I didn’t ask for you to be here,” he sneered, before turning his gaze back to Pomni. “Not that I’m complaining though.”

Pomni scoffed, gaping as she looked to Moon and Sun, the former of the duo looking furious. “I have the right mind to drag you out by the ears of you don’t apologize to Gangle right now,” Moon hissed.

Sun gulped, hiding behind his twin sister.

Ragatha’s lions had even began to have enough of his presence, growling and baring their teeth at him as he backed away slowly.

“Now, now,” he tsked, “We don’t want the crown prince of Laphria to go back out with his handsome face all mangled, now do we?”

Everyone’s faces fell. He was right, one wrong move and they’d all be imprisoned.

“All I want is to speak to your little jester here, is that such a crime?” he pouted.

They all turned to Pomni, awaiting her decision on what to do with this situation. “Kiddo, Pomni, you don’t have to do anything he tells you to do,” Kaufmo reassured her.

“Don’t worry Pa,” she said, a little nickname that she saved just for him, “I got this.”

Kaufmo’s eyes flickered to Jax, glaring at him before going back to Pomni. He smiled at her and let her continue.

Pomni walked to Jax, the prince was already acting smug about it too. “So, Prince Jax of Laphria,” she raised a brow at him, “In the flesh.”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he grinned, it seemed to be starting off well. She looks even lovelier without her hat on.

“Oh I’ve heard of you,” Pomni confirmed, “You’ve got quite the reputation it seems.”

“All good things I bet,” The prince smirked, looming over her.

Pomni didn’t move a muscle, the height difference didn’t affect her for what she was going to say next. “Actually,” she began. “I heard you’re a no-good son of a bitch who spends his days disrespecting those who sacrifice their mornings and nights just to serve whatever little thing he wants.”

Jax’s eyes widened, this was not how he thought this was going to go.

“Awful to the people who not only rule this kingdom but spent every day of their lives raising you just for you to turn out to be a jerk,” Pomni continued to list it off.

Jax was going to admit it, that one stung a little.

“You embarrass those you deem beneath you and refuse to take responsibility when their reputation is ruined because of your words and actions!” she scowled.

Okay yeah, he’ll admit it, he took that one a little too far.

“You cause destruction and mayhem in your own home with the worst of the upper class because you feel like it!” another flaw she pointed out. “And what was your most recent one? Let me think. Oh yeah, you set off fireworks and nearly set fire to a village you’re going to rule over one day!”

Jax rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Word really got round fast about that, huh?

“So excuse me your royal highness, but I would like nothing for you to leave this tent and never step ten feet toward me again,” she gave him an exaggerated bow, still glaring at him. “Now if you don’t mind, leave!”

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be faced with the glares of a protective clown, a ragdoll with a knife, a Moon holding a noose and two lions looking at their next meal. Yup time for him to leave.

Pomni sighed with relief the moment he left. She didn’t think she would have the courage to stand up to someone as important as the prince like that, but she was glad she did. Everyone patted her on the back, impressed with her accomplishment as well, including Kaufmo. “Great job kiddo,” He murmured.

Pomni smiled warmly, “Thanks Pa.”

.

.

.

Jax walked out the tent, meeting the dissatisfied looks on his parent’s faces. “Well, we did try to warn you,” Queenie muttered, handing him back Motley, “But I’m afraid this is one of those cases where your heart is bigger than your brain.”

Motley mewled in seemingly agreement with the queen, rubbing his head against Jax’s palm so he could pet him.

“Let’s head back home,” said Kinger, taking Queenie’s hand lovingly before whispering in her ear. “I have a feeling that star performer won’t be leaving his head anytime soon.”

Queenie nodded subtly in agreement and the royal family headed out of the theatre.

During the carriage ride back, while petting Motley, Jax couldn’t stop thinking about that jester…no, Pomni was her name. That was what the clown said, right? The bite of her words, the ice within her eyes, the sharpness of her tone. All of it was meant to push him away…it was a good thing that Jax was determined and stupid.

He would show her that she wasn’t what she said he was! He’s a prince, he could do anything! He was going to shower her in the most lavish gifts known to man. Whether it be gowns, food, new equipment for her shows, anything! He was going to show her that he was worthy of her time.

In fact, he sure that be the end of the week, she would be fawning at his feet. Jax chuckled, he was way too good at this.

Motley could only watch in despair as his new master set himself up for failure.

Song Credit: Nothing You Can Take From Me by Rachel Zegler.

[kuwdora]

Lost Scenes Thursday! Get to know your favourite authors better. Show five scenes from either abandoned fics where you regret they will never see the light of day, or five scenes from WIPs where you are impatient to see them out there. Long, short, one-liner... it's all good reading. Tag five other authors where you are curious.

Here is a messy witcher snippet from 2021 which was part of a longer plotty story that never went anywhere. But this mostly was me embracing Jaskier as a Disney Princess and finding my way to Jaskier and Geralt's netflix dynamic and voices. Only remembered this because @littlestsnicket and I were talking about jaskier and geralt and music recently.

the original fic title was actually called Counterpoint of Disaster and got too big and messy for me to deal with. but this snippet should whet your appetite!

jaskier & geralt. case fic vibes. 850w. rated T.

Jaskier ambled along the stretch of road beside a fence, strumming his lute and humming. The sun was easing itself behind the peaks of the Mahakams and the shadow was creeping along the meadow. At the top of a sloping hill, Jaskier noticed a dot that resembled a cow. 

He perched himself on the fence and he resumed his song, uncertain he could project his voice enough for the cow to hear him.

But it did. The cow moseyed down the hill towards him. By the time it was half-way to Jaskier on the fence two more cows appeared at the top of the hill.

Amused, Jaskier sang louder. The ambling cow continued its approach with its companions making their way to Jaskier’s little stage. His fingers danced along the strings. Swing that scythe dawn to dusk with weary shoulders, to home and hearth your wife… All variations on a satisfying theme. A hard day's work followed by ale and love at home only to wake up and do it all over again. Music to rejuvenate oneself for the next day’s work.  

The cows mooed upon their approach and Jaskier played on. Three more cows appeared on the horizon and they herded each other down the hill towards him.

“Not my usual audience,” Jaskier said and laughed. He tilted his head and adjusted his posture, a smile tugging at his lips. “I wonder…” he murmured. He began playing a lighthearted song of a young maiden’s carefree day. 

He was halfway through the chorus and was deeply amused by the nearly dozen cows standing in front of him. By the time Jaskier was on the final verse another three cows had joined them, shouldering their way closer.

Jaskier continued to hum and sing, plucking a cute little melody for the attentive audience. He received some lowing in return and he laughed. “Happy cows indeed. Who knew I had fans afield. Will a good song produce sweet milk?” he asked them.

His fingers danced along the strings, improvising nonsense and one of the soft-eyed cows wandered right up to the fence and offered him an insistent moo before nudging his knee with its snout.

“I would definitely consider tips in the form of cheese,” Jaskier said and gave the cow a gentle pat on the side of her face. 

His hand came away wet and he was about to wipe the cow snot away when he saw his hand was crimson.

Jaskier gagged and nearly wiped the blood on his clean trousers. He stopped himself just in time and wobbled on the fence.

“Uh, Geralt?” Jaskier called. “There’s some bloody cows over here.”

“There’s a farm nearby,” Geralt said, sounding like he replied without looking up.

“No, I mean they look like they rolled around in a pool of blood,” Jaskier said.

Two of the cows pushed forward as if to ask why he’d stopped playing. They crowded Jaskier enough and pushed at his knees with soft blood-covered snouts. Jaksier unwound his legs from the fence to lean forward for a closer look. Then they were all at his knees at once.

Jaskier wobbled.

The cows mooed.

Jaskier flailed and threw up his arms with his lute, instinctively protecting it as he fell.

He landed hard.

Jaskier wheezed. Pulled the lute close to his chest, cradling it amidst the pain.

He opened his eyes, not realizing he’d closed them. Geralt leaned on the fence, looking at the assembled cows.

“I think they were going to take a bite out of me,” Jaskier rasped. Geralt held out an arm and when Jaskier grabbed it he was heaved upward like it was nothing, again reminding him of Geralt’s effortless strength. He spread his feet and tried to gain his bearings but he’d fallen harder than he realized because the ache persisted in his chest and back. He rubbed the back of his neck and the back of his head and took a step backwards from the fence. 

“Wouldn’t be the first creature to try,” Geralt said and climbed over the fence for a closer look. The frown on the witcher’s face worried Jaskier. The eager brown cow, hungry for more song didn’t appear blood-thirsty in the slightest despite the blood-matted fur indicating otherwise.

“Did they make a grand escape from the butcher? One last dinner before they became dinner?” Jaskier said. 

“I doubt it,” Geralt said. He was reaching out to the animal and touching the side of her face, peering at her eyes and ears before doing a cursory check of her mouth before moving on to the rest of her body. She paid Geralt little heed and when she mooed it started a chain reaction from the others.

“The blood is human. At least a day old,” Geralt said and moved on to examine the other eager cow who hung her head over the fence like she was waiting for Jaskier to resume his song.

“So they were trying to take a bite out of me. This is definitely a mystery in the making: The Mystery of the Bloody Cows,” Jaskier said.

[athy-wathy]

The Stargazer

An original creepypasta by Athy

TW: this story contains gore, fighting, and other implements of sensitive topics

Viewers discretion is advised

The time is June 2006, as Robin is sitting in the back of their parents car, listening to them argue about every little thing. Nothing was new about Robin's parents fighting, except this one was different, their mother was complaining about how Robin was never really present in conversations and was like a hollow shell, while their dad was trying to defend Robin but just making their mother even more furious by blaming her for Robin's emptiness. Robin just kept softly knocking their head off of the backseat car window, attempting to ignore their parents as tears rolled down their cheeks. 

When they all got home, Robin's parents continued to argue. When they all got out, Robin’s mother lunged at their father, grabbing his neck, clawing and scratching at it, clamping down harder and harder. Robin just stood there, eyes wide, as if they were watching it from a third person view, almost like a security camera was watching it all happen and Robin saw through it. In a desperate attempt to survive, Robin’s father grabbed his keys and stabbed their mother several times, bringing her life to an end then and there.

As Robin watched, all trust for anyone vanished into thin air. Their mother had lied lifeless on the ground, their father now up, covered in blood. He looked back at Robin.

“I had to Kiddo,” Their father would say,

“No, no, no you didn’t,” Robin muttered, stepping back when their father tried to step closer. His face tried to look reassuring, but all Robin could see was happiness. Their mother was dead, gone for good.

“C’mon Robin I had to…” Robin's father tried to step closer only for them to step away again.

“Like hell you didn’t have to!” Robin was ready to run, run until they couldn’t.

“Would you just listen to me!” He grabbed Robin and dragged them in the house to the living room where he would repeatedly do unspeakable things to Robin.

As August rolls around, Robin’s father had done even more unspeakable acts to them several times. He had also hidden their mothers body in the basement, a smell of a rotting corpse almost detectable from the backyard. Life was hell more than ever for Robin now.

Now being forced to be homeschooled and just starting to go to therapy, yet unable to tell anything about what’s happened.

“Robin, I feel as if you aren’t telling me something,” Robin's therapist, Kye, was always trying to get Robin to 100% open up.

“Yes, I'm sure Kye, i'm not hiding anything,” Robin was once again seeing everything from a third person view like the day their father went insane.

The next afternoon while walking home from the therapist's office, Robin was grabbed, and gagged from behind, being dragged into the dense forest behind. The unknown man threw Robin on the ground and got on top of them, putting his hand on their throat and started to do the unspeakable acts that their father did.

After he finished his acts, he’d leave Robin alive as he took an axe he had planted there and severed her forearms from the rest of her arms, then her upper arms were cut off of her torso. He then proceeds to sever her shins and calves from her thighs, then her thighs from her torso.

Robin had been dead when we got through her first thigh, still not being able to scream before because of the gag and pure shock they were given from the events.

The man gets a bag and puts their parts in there. He digs a hole in a treeless meadow, somewhere where stargazing would be perfect. The bag containing Robin was thrown in and covered back up.

Five years later in September of 2011, a cult with an unknown name undigs her resting spot and brought her to their meeting spot a few miles away. They restored their body, giving them a porcelain face, missing an eye and a pure white one, they gave their skin as pale as falling snow. Their hair looks the same as the day they died, fluffy, blonde, and short. Their limbs get stitched back together with a strong yet delicate string.

The cult puts them back into the meadow they were buried in and performs several rituals to reanimate them. When they successfully do, they leave them alone in the meadow.

Not knowing what to do, they decided to protect the meadow as their new home, often needing to resew their parts, they use the needles to stab, and kill anyone that comes to the meadow. Any survivors call them “The Stargazer” because anytime they would be seen they are stargazing in the meadow before attacking you with needles and other weapons covered in them.

[thevestigeofvanillaan]

"What's Your Name?"

kai anderson x female reader part 2.

part 1!

content: reader is pregnant, doctors appointment, cuddling, mentions of death, just fluff.

Kai picked you up from your home about a week later, the two of you heading to the doctors appointment that was schedules for today.

The car ride was silent. It was a mix of awkward and comfortable silence. There really was nothing to say.. what were you supposed to say?

It didn't take long to get to the building, heading inside and taking the paperwork before sitting a whole chair apart from one another. A random person would have thought you were two people here for unrelated reasons with how Kai just scrolled through Facebook and you filled out paperwork.

Exchanging no words until the doctor calls your name, inviting you to the back.

As you stand up, Kai follows with a hand on your shoulder closest to his, letting go at the door.

The ultrasound was ready and you saw the screen. "There's nothing there." You say.

"That's not your uterus.." The doctor giggled softly, leading down the weird camera thing.

"There still isn't anything there." You start to believe the tests could have possibly been wrong.

"Right here." She points at a small pea sized little dot.

Confusion lingered on your face. "That's my baby?"

The doctor again giggles. "Yes ma'am." She says before the camera zoomed in to show something that was very evidently a baby.

All you could do was stare at the screen as the doctor left the room for a moment. Oh my god. This was your child you were looking at. You look at Kai, who's looking at you.

Sighing and looking away, throwing an arm over your eyes. "I'm so tired, the lights hurting my eyes."

"You sleep bad last night?" Kai asks.

"Horrible. I felt so sick and hot and uncomfortable." You groan and take your arm off your face. "I wanna take a nap after this."

"We're gonna get lunch first."

"What are we getting?" You ask, intrigued and sitting up to look at him better.

He shrugs, "Whatever you want, mama."

And there the two of you went, to go get lunch.

Afterwards, Kai brought you a different way from your house.

"You missed our exit." You yawn in tiredness.

"I know, I want you to come to my place. I'll let you sleep there; I just wanna talk to you first."

And so he brought you to his home, where he'd being you to the basement and sit you down at a table where he'd sit across from you.

Kai held up his pinkie, "Take my pinkie."

Holding up your own before chaining it to his.

"Promise to tell the brutal truth?" He asks, raising his brows and you nod. "Do you get scared easy?"

"No." Is all you reply with.

"What if I was a killer?"

"Then that'd be pretty unfortunate if you killed us." You say, referring to yourself and your baby.

Kai smiles softly. "Have you ever killed someone?"

"Almost. I was about.. maybe seven when I caused a fire on the playground. I tried for days to light a fire with two sticks, when I did I was so surprised I threw the sticks down and all the wood chips went ablaze." You giggle in the memory. "I wish that bitch caught on fire."

"So you've wanted to kill someone before.?"

"God knows I'd set the world on fire if I could." You think for a moment. "Kai?" Your eyes lock. "Are you a killer?"

He hesitates, "I'm a mastermind. I'm a leader, the leader of vengeance."

"Cool. What do you mean leader?" You ask, yawning.

"A cult." He takes his pinkie away, standing up and taking your arm. "Now you're gonna go nap."

Walking with him as he leads you to a mattress lying on the floor. "Wait I wanna know more."

He lays you down and you pout. "Tell me about your cult, Mr. Anderson." You pat the side of the bed next to you as you lay on your side, facing him. He crawls onto the bed and lays down as you snuggle into his side.

There was only one pillow, so you chose to use Kai's chest as your pillow and he'd use the other one.

Kai told you about the killing, how he's city council, which you didn't know because you hate politics.. How he had Meadow attempt to assassinate him. The masks. Basically everything I needed to know.

And to that, you fell asleep in his arms to his raspy voice talking about his plans as city council and how he's gonna take over.

[sparrow-orion-writes]

I'm loving the amount of flash fiction Friday prompts that I can link to CS lately. This is apparently how this book will get written.

@flashfictionfridayofficial I love a little more White/Aspen interaction.

He stood in the meadows with the sun beating down upon his pale skin. The tall grass danced around him, what remained among the ashes at least. It had to admit, it could see the appeal. In the carnage that lingered so prettily on the pale white skin, the vengeance in his eyes. There was so much power in the demon. It could imagine why humans threw themselves to his feet, to the grasp of Wrath. The bloodstained flowers wept delicately, clamoring for water in the heat. Aspen could do nothing for their pain, as much as it could do for its family, when Wrath had come for them. "You." "Me." "A bad penny has less of a habit of cropping up nearly as often." "I see you got my message." Aspen sighed, as if the scorched ground could ever be interpreted as anything else. As anyone else. Not even the immortal had this much of a taste for pain. "And what is the message, White?" Demon or not, Aspen was still feykind. Names still had power. "The boundaries between the grounds are breaking open, Aspen, you're running out of time." He said its name with joyful venom, like a debt collector arriving at the house of a particularly wealthy person. "You know what you must do - who you must see." The immortal. "I've no interest in gambling with Pride." "They've always been rather interested in gambling with you, quite literally if I recall." "Do you use your many years to simply collect gossip?" "Only the parts that interest me." White raised the limp body of a grass nymph to his mouth and bit down, canines separating head from body with ease. The sound help all the crunch and wetness of a cement mixer turning. A piece of the poor thing's flesh stayed stuck between the two rows of teeth, dangling grotesquely. "After this is finished, White," Aspen uttered absently "...we will put you back in your tomb, make no mistake, your carnage has no place here." "And yet," White spat a bone on the floor, his many voices curling against Aspen's ears with the force of an alarm "...here I am, no longer imprisoned, and why? Well, we could blame dear Fair, couldn't we, but we know that it was human greed that put me back here, and believe me, my sweet little imp - they adore me." Aspen ground its teeth hard enough for its gums to ache. "They adore a false promise you exasperate, their fear consumes them and you promise a life without it - that is not adoration, that is..." it trailed off, shaking its head "...that is whatever oil is to a lit match."

[ohmygodshesinsane]

THE PRINCESS AND THE PARLEY

for @jilymicrofics / april prompt 15: stage / words: 2194 / rating: mature

“Are you mental?” Lily adjusted her straw hat, casting a panicked look out onto the stage, where James Potter stood giving the performance of his life. Remus rubbed his face, grimacing.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. But I couldn’t ask Mary, and Marlene’s already been out -” He wrung his hands. “I’d send Sirius, I really would, but his evil queen costume takes the best part of thirty minutes to get him sewn into and they’ve already started.”

Lily took a deep breath. She only had two lines to remember – that wasn’t the issue. It was that she’d gone from being a wordless fishwife to the titular character – and naturally, the titular character was a sidelined damsel-in-distress that could have been replaced with an aristocratic lamp. Why Lockhart kept choosing these sorts of plays, she didn’t know. Why had they allowed a megalomaniac of an eighteen-year-old to direct anyway? He wasn’t even making the calls – he was just in the audience basking in it, the useless knob.

 “Lockhart will skin me alive,” Remus said, clasping his hands together. “He’ll wear me as a cloak and use my blood to shampoo his hair. Please, Lily. I’ll owe you. And,” in his begging, he grasped at something. “You’ll humiliate James. He’s expecting Lisbete to prance out. You know he can hardly talk to you. You’ll get the last laugh.”

James. That much was true. In rehearsals, they quarrelled over everything, which was a miracle in and of itself as they were never in the same scene. Fortunately, however, as of late he could scarcely look her in the eyes, which made winning the arguments a lot easier. Lily huffed and folded her arms. “That’s a bit evil, Remus.” He shrugged.

“It’s show business.”

She blew air through her lips. “Fine,” she said. “But don’t lose it if I become a diva.” She hesitated. “And I want kebabs after the show.”

“Whatever you want,” Remus promised. “Anything.”

 Lily skulked further backstage, past where Lisbete sat holding an icepack to her ankle, and reluctantly greeted Dorcas Meadowes.

“I’m the princess now,” she announced glumly. Dorcas blinked.

“Oh.” She looked to the costume rack. “We haven’t much time.”

 Five minutes later, Lily had transformed from a humble villager to the King’s kidnapped daughter, clad in a ridiculously over-the-top pink gown and a matching cone with a long veil. Dorcas hurriedly braided her hair as she repeated her lines under her breath, and then Lily was shoved into the wings as the stage went dark. Benjy and Caradoc threw a red tablecloth over the metal structure that was to be her ‘bed’ and patted it.

“Hop on,” Benjy said, and Lily obliged, sitting on it.

“This is like one of those things they wheel bodies around in the morgue,” she informed him, laying down. It was terribly uncomfortable.

“Well, you would be a body if he didn’t come save you,” Caradoc said. “So it’s a fair thing.”

 They wheeled her past Remus, who gave her a thumbs up and mouthed ‘thank you’, and then out onto the stage. It was terrifyingly empty, the audience glaring with narrowed eyes, trying to make sense of the shapes in the dark. An unfamiliar set loomed around her, with painted castle walls. In her only scene it had been a market square, and there’d been so many people on stage and her so far at the back that she’d been sure nobody was watching her. Now she’d be a main feature. She swallowed hard, and when Benjy and Caradoc hurried off, she was alone. She shut her eyes. Please, please don’t let me fuck up.

 She sensed the lights going up, and James’ voice filled the world. With its disconnection from his actual face, it was almost pleasant-sounding.

“In the depths of the castle lay the Princess Acanthus, locked in an endless slumber, trapped by the Evil Queen Rostra. With every moment,” a clock tick, tick, ticked, “her life ebbed away. If Sir Arthur could not wake her, she would be lost forever.” Lily fought to keep her face still, trying to ignore the gazes of near fifty people on her. The lights warmed, and the clash of swords echoed in her ears.

“En garde! Get back!” James shouted from offstage. “Begone, foul creature!” The swords died and romantic music started as he entered the scene. He gave a strangled cry. An unscripted cry. Lily fought to keep her lips still. It would work with the character, perhaps, but it was all James.

 “Princess?” he gasped, with more question than usual. He padded across the stage. After a moment, she felt the warmth of someone nearby, and the light behind her eyelids changed. “Could - could it be? This is where the Evil Queen has kept you all along? So close, and yet…” he sighed. “So difficult to find. Had I only known.” A rummaging sound. “And this antidote! Why, this antidote! The wizard has promised that this should wake her, and I must believe him. If he has lied…all hope is lost. We will never defeated the Evil Queen. All of Etrariana will be lost to her wicked powers!” His footsteps circled, so that he stood behind her. Lily squeezed her hands where they held each other, praying she kept still. Her body tensed in anticipation of his touch.

 It was all she could do not to jolt when he lay his hands upon hers, heart pounding in her throat. His fingers brushed her cheek. Sleeping. You’re sleeping. Stay still. His thumb touched her lips, and her stomach clenched. His hands were softer than she had expected, and gentler. Something cold replaced his thumb.

“Please, let this potion work. Please, or I will be bereft! So very bereft!” he declared. Lockhart had written the play. He was the sort who named himself a great fan of Shakespeare after reading the Sparknotes of all his works. The mouth of the vial tilted against her lips. Crap. Now she had to wake. She hadn’t thought about how to act that.

 Lily flung her eyes open and sat slightly. James snaked an arm around her. She almost looked to the audience, but his fingers curled around her waist as a reminder. His brown eyes were wide, faintly accentuated by the mascara on his lashes. She had never been so close to him. His breath stroked her cheek. A gold ring outlined his irises, and his lips were slightly parted, revealing a little of his white teeth. It took her a moment to remember what she was to do. She made a small sleepy sound – James held her a little more firmly – and opened her mouth in shock.

 “Prin – princess.” James’ voice shook. She didn’t recall that from the matinee, but then, she had never paid much attention. Lily bit her lip, trying not to smirk. “You – you are awake.” He held her face with his free hand, and guided her gently into leaning back a little more. It sent her a little off-balance. If he pulled his arm, away, she would fall. She had to trust him. The heat of the lights flushed her cheeks. “I feared you would never wake.”

“Sir Arthur!” she said. “You have saved me! I thought I would die here, because of the Evil Queen’s evil intentions. I have been asleep so very long.”

“Of course I saved you,” he said, drawing nearer. Her tongue felt fat in her mouth. “I vowed to be your protector.” It’s worse for him than for you. She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. There was colour in his face, too – she must have been harder to prop up than she thought.

“My saviour,” she breathed. “I am so very thankful.” She had to initiate. Her stomach rolled. It was stupid – she had done this plenty of times, with plenty of different people, on dares or dates or when she was drunk or dancing. What did this matter? Lily tilted her head and bridged the gap between them, pressing her lips softly against James’. He inhaled sharply, but it was only the briefest meeting, and he was the first to draw back. His lipstick had smudged a little. That hadn’t been so bad. The first was done.

“Princess,” he said. “Oh, Princess. How I have dreamed of this day.” And then he kissed her. A strike of lightning ran through her. His kiss was hungry, passionate – as it was directed to be – and his tongue swiped her lips. Fine. She could do better than that. She pressed harder against him, tasting the inside of his mouth, and lifted her other hand to hold onto the back of his jerkin. He could take all her weight, if he liked. He kissed her harder, stealing her breaths until she was gasping against him, desperately breathing through her nose, which crashed against his. Fine. If the audience wanted a show – if he wanted to make this a show – that’s what it would be.

 Her teeth skimmed his lower lip, tugging gently, and then she moaned softly. His arm jerked in surprise. She dropped back. No! But he saved her at the last moment, cradling her in his arms, and then lowered her to the table. Now James was directly above her. By rights, the kiss ended there, but she kept on, trailing her fingers up his back until they reached his hair, where she then twisted them into his locks. James leaned over more, pressing some of his torso against hers, and trapped her tongue between his teeth, slowly drawing back and releasing her. Lily could up the stakes. If they were going to send her out to do this with little warning, as a favour, this is what they would get. And besides, he couldn’t win. No fucking way. She arched her body against his, whining a little. He gripped her face with both hands and kissed her harder again, pressing down until the metal of the ‘bed’ was firm against her back. Her head spun, the lack of air getting to her. Her whole body was warm under the glaring stage lights. The music had passed where it was supposed to be, and they were dragging on too long. She had to put an end to it.

 She pulled back as best she could – her head hit the ‘bed’, and he only leaned down further, lipstick now smeared.

“James,” she whispered, very quietly. He flinched and opened his eyes. She stroked his cheek and pulled back, before sitting up of her own power. She could improvise.

“Sir Arthur,” she said, loud enough for the audience to hear, smiling pleasantly. “My saviour. My love.” Even if the line didn’t change the fact that the Princess didn’t pass the Bechdel test, at least she had three lines instead of two.

“We must run, my princess,” he said. Here, he was meant to step back and help her to her feet, but instead he stayed dangerously close. Lily’s palms sweated. Something in her core was on fire. As he let go of her, one finger swiped at the corner of her mouth. He subtly showed it to her as he finally did the blocking he was supposed to. It was marked with red. Her own lipstick had been ruined. He cleared his throat. “We must go now! The Evil Queen will realise I am here at any moment!” He circled to the front of her bed, took her hand, and helped her up. His palms were as gross as hers; she could feel his pulse jumping through his wrist.

 There was only thing left; the music changed and swelled, and he started to run slowly, pulling her offstage. Lily joined him in the overdramatic fleeing, pretending to look terrified, and followed him into the wings.

 As soon as they were in the darkness, James grabbed her waist; she rasped in surprise and he pulled her flush against him, hands stronger than she had known. Her heart raced. His face was only inches from hers, near as close as it had been on the stage. There was a wildness in his eyes, and his hair was still ruffled where she had messed it. Lily scoffed, mostly to herself. Was this his attempt at surprising her? She could do worse.

 She smashed her lips against his, throwing her arms around his neck, and he stumbled backwards. But he returned her kiss with his own, fierce and insistent, and bit her lips. She stepped forward, pushing him against the theatre wall. How did he like being beneath her? But he gripped her waist harder and it became difficult to think clearly; her body ran on pure animalistic frenzy, only caring about his tongue against hers, his lips against her, the taste of his mouth.

 “Are you mental?!” Lily broke from him at once, staggering backwards, and Remus gaped at them, holding his clipboard only by the string-attached pen. Lily smoothed her hair back, attempting decorum.

“You were the one who put me out there,” she said calmly. “I wanted to give it a hundred percent.”

Remus blinked. “Jesus Christ.”