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fortisfilia · 9 months ago

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Promised Part 2 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, sickness, bullying

Word count: 1.7k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3

Part 2 - Back in Hogwarts

Being back at Hogwarts felt strange. Usually, it was like coming home, where the old stone walls kept you warm even when they were so cold. But this time, having left your sick little sister behind and after practically selling your soul to the devil, you felt as if everyone already knew. Every time someone looked at you, underlying judgement was inherent in their gaze.

How could she do this? How could she agree to marry someone she didn’t love? She probably did it for the money. Or for his reputation. Both perhaps.

No one had said anything to your face yet, but the nasty expressions they wore gave them away. Girls from year five had always greeted you, had looked up to you, trying to impress older students and wanting to be noticed. Now they didn’t look you in the eyes, even though their stares bore holes into the back of your head and when they thought you were out of earshot, they would group up in the hallways and whisper to each other.

Camille Kegley was the only person you trusted enough to talk to. She was your best friend since your first year in Hogwarts and being with her had always been easy. She was a breath of fresh air - humble, fun and a loyal friend. A true Hufflepuff. So you had told her every little detail. How your sister got cursed, that the Gaunts visited, what they offered and what they asked for in return. Camille’s mouth hung open by the end, but she understood.

“I would have done the same thing for my brother,” she said. “I’m so sorry all of this happened though. If I can do anything to help you out, just let me know.”

“Thank you. Really. The only thing I want right now is for everyone to stop looking at me like I murdered someone.”

“You think they know already?”

“‘I’m not sure,” you sighed. “Seems like it.”

“Have you told anybody?”

“Just you. And please. Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want Elsie to be the girl who’s been cursed when she starts school next year and I won’t be here to help her.”

“I won’t. Don’t worry. But how would anyone know it then, by now?”

“I have a feeling the Gaunts want as many people to know as possible. To make it harder for me to back out.”

“You think Tom-”

“No,” you said and shook your head. “It seemed he was even more against it than I was. His grandfather, Marvolo. I think it’s him who’s eager for everyone to know.”

“Wanker,” Camille said.

“Tosser,” you added.

“Merlin’s saggy left bollock,” Camille went one better and you both laughed. “And what about Tom?”

“What about him?”

“Well, if they’re going through with the pact like you said, you’re going to marry him. Do you like him at least? In any way?”

“I… don’t know. I hardly know him. Though he seems to take after his grandfather, unfortunately.”

“Saggy bollock,” Camille whispered.

“I guess I’ll try to get to know him. We’ll have to get along someday after all.”

“Good idea,” Camille nodded. “You should do that.”

“He’s so distant. Cold. I don’t know how to approach him.”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be too hard. He’s just a man. They're all quite similar if we're honest.”

“I’m not sure he’s similar to most men we know, Camille,” you said and she laughed.

“You’ll have to find out, then. Maybe, deep down, he’s quite nice.”

“Maybe.”

Maybe not. Tom acted like nothing had happened for the first week of school. Either Morfin had slipped some Forgetfulness Potion into Tom’s tea, or he actually detested you that much, because it felt as if he didn’t even know who you were. He didn’t greet you in the hallway, hell, he didn’t even glance at you in class. Nothing. How was this supposed to work if he didn’t try at all? It was unfathomable.

The only person who talked normally to you, besides Camille, was Benjamin Hilt, a Gryffindor boy from year six. He was annoying, to put it mildly. Perhaps he just tried to be nice, but it seemed he wanted to know a lot about Tom and you. And, to be fair, you didn’t even know much about Tom and you.

Ben acted like Hogwarts’ very own private investigator, trying to elicit as much information as possible from you. He had you wondering if he was working for the Daily Prophet.

How did the engagement happen? Weren’t you still too young? Did your parents agree immediately? Was it possible that you didn’t do it willingly? Was it forced?

“Merlin, Ben!” you shouted. “Stop asking all those questions. What are you trying to get out of this?”

“I don’t know,” he said and scratched the back of his neck. “It’s just so strange, you know. I’ve never seen you two together. Seems off.”

“Well, mind your own business then. Git,” you said and rushed out of the great hall.

Even though Tom avoided you magnificently, his friends, or rather his followers, seemed very much interested in you. And not in a positive way. They looked you up and down in class, followed you in the hallways and you could only guess what they were mumbling to each other. Certainly not compliments.

Emlyn Avery and Tiernan Lestrange were the worst of them. The two boys were on you all the time. You tried to act as if you didn’t notice, but it got more concerning each day. Every time you looked over your shoulder, those two were standing close. And they smiled so spitefully, it was clear how much they enjoyed freaking you out. Bastards.

It had become a habit not to walk the corridors alone. Camille was with you most of the time and if she couldn’t be there, you followed random groups of people until you found one of your friends. This technique, as humiliating as it was, worked well. Until that one day, when Professor Binns asked you to stay for a moment, after your History Of Magic lesson. Not only did he take ages to get his point across, but made you more nervous each second, when your classmates’ voices faded until you couldn’t hear a single sound from the hallway.

Your heart was beating in your throat when you left the classroom. Of course. Avery and Lestrange had waited for you. With their stupid grins on their faces. They didn’t even act as if they were there for something else.

You pondered where to go. The great hall was always busy and also quite near, so you turned right. They were following you. You heard their footsteps behind you and they were coming closer.

Whenever you went a little faster, the two of them did too. You thought about running away but didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

Eventually, they caught up. Avery walked to your left, Lestrange to your right until they had you cornered.

“What do you want?” you asked and tried your best to control your voice.

“Just wanted to say hello,” Avery said.

“Hello,” you said and tried to push through them, but they didn’t let you.

“No,” Lestrange smirked. “We’re not done yet.”

“Did Riddle send you?” you asked. “To scare me?”

“Why would he do that? To his future wife.”

“You tell me.”

“We’re here to clear some things up,” Avery said. “That you might not know.”

“And what’s that?” you asked.

“You see, we don’t know how you did it. How your family pulled that trick to make Tom agree to marry you. It can only mean that you’re plotting something. And -”

“Wait, he didn’t tell you?” you asked.

They didn’t answer right away but exchanged an involuntary glance with each other. A sore point. Interesting.

“We know enough, okay?” Avery hissed. “Tom has a great future ahead of him. And I swear, if you get in the way, you’re going to regret it.”

“I’m not -”

“Shut up,” Lestrange interrupted you with his wand close to your face. “I don’t know what you’re after. Money, fame, whatever it is. You might want to think about it again and I’ll have you know it’s not worth it.”

“I don’t care for any of that.”

“Come on, what other reason could you have to pull off something like that?”

There was no way you were telling them about Elsie. Every student would know by next year and she was far too sensitive to handle that. “None of your business.”

“That just proves you’re not trustworthy,” Avery said.

“Because I’m not telling you two my reasons?” you almost laughed. “Give me a break. Why didn’t you ask Tom? Your good friend who confides everything to you.”

Their faces turned red, their embarrassment obvious. Even if everyone knew how much power Riddle had over his friends, they didn’t like to be reminded of it.

“Listen here, you little -” Avery stopped talking when a hand touched his shoulder and pulled him and Lestrange away from you.

Tom stood there, looking at them rigidly. “What are you doing?”

“We’re… Just…”

“Talking to her. Trying to get to know her better,” Avery mumbled.

Tom looked at you for a second, then back at his friends. “Doesn’t seem like you were having a nice chat.”

“Oh it was very nice,” Avery said. “Making friends.”

“Was it a nice chat?” Tom asked you.

You were still so tense from them threatening you and hadn’t expected Tom to talk to you directly after days of silence, so you just stammered, “I… They -”

“Shut up you,” Lestrange took a step in your direction until Tom pressed his wand against Lestrange’s chest.

“Don’t,” Tom said through gritted teeth.

“I wasn’t -”

“I don’t care Tiernan. Let’s go.”

Without another word, the three boys walked away towards the Slytherin common room. You were still glued to the spot when Tom turned around and glanced at you.

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 3

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devine-fem · 8 months ago

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Why do you ship damian and Jon? especially still as they are now in canon, I’m genuinely just asking…

This is a loaded question.

Firstly, my introduction to younger heroes was through Super Sons and I didn’t immediately ship them until I entered the fandom and had all their content clash together consistently in my head and it slowly made me realize the potential of the characters and what I was reading.

I’m more of a Damian Wayne enjoyer than anything in the batfam, he’s my favorite Batkid, then its Jason and Cass. I really enjoy his character and I also really relished in the potential Jon had with Damian and how he was a genuine friend.

I really do think that if done right then Damian and Jon being in some sort of relationship would not only be excellent representation but also, could fix a lot of troubling aspects of their character. Like their mantles and how their characters function in canon. Their relationship could be catalyst for them seeking a new mantle.

It’s more so built off of the mutual friendship they have for each other and how much they care about the other person.

A lot of people expect me to consider older Jon because he’s canon but no, I don’t like Jon’s age up for many, many reasons so I choose to ignore it.

Whoever chooses to get mad at me for it are hypocrites because you cannot honestly tell me there aren’t stuff about your favorite character that you don’t choose to ignore… every character in dc has done something problematic and if you didn’t ignore something, they wouldn’t be enjoyable.

People only want me to take in older Jon because they either hate the ship or weirdly enjoy Jon’s pseudo-relationship and feel threatened over Damijon even though it’s an entire fanon ship and can’t do anything to harm canon in the first place. You guys have the canon ship, why do you have to feel so threatened?

On Damian’s part, there’s flatline but I don’t personally feel threatened by his relationship/romance with her… she’s a fine love interest and I really enjoy her allegories of death, it’s interesting to think about and how that correlates with Damian’s grief with Alfred. There’s no reason for me to get so up and arms about Damian’s canon romances… it’s fandom… I think I would even like them a lot at some point when Nika gets some more content in the future. I also fear for her because she’s so new and has potential to become a character we grow to hate once other writers get their hands on her… (I have more thoughts on this but that’s all for now)

Jay… no… I’m sorry, there’s no appeal with him and Jon and with how it came about… I don’t find it likable.

Like I don’t actually want Damijon to be canon ever, really, it’d be a nightmare in the longrun with how these writers handle queer relationships.

And yes, people are always like “Damian and Jon had an age gap even before the age up-“ Dude, their ages were infamously inconsistent in comics that weren’t Super Sons, sometimes they had a 1-2 year age gap if you put them on a certain timeline in canon. Super Sons is what established the age gap, and even after Jon was aged up, till Taylor took it, they still had an inconsistent age gap. Jon’s age was inconsistent and Damian was also aged up but people tend to forget that.

Jon and Damian don’t have canon birthdays and didn’t know each other for that long before the age up. The age gap is probably much smaller. Even Taylor sometimes refers to it as “2-3 years” but he’s never consistent on any basis so…

I simply just think they’re 1-2 years apart in my head, or sometimes 3 as well. But I also, don’t consider them being in a healthy romantic relationship unless they are adults. No one should consider Jon and Damian actually being able to hold a relationship while they are young, it wouldn’t work. Any shipping I do while they are younger, is because that's where they peaked and it’ll be entirely innocent.

If they were to be in a relationship as they’re older, I seriously do think they can be incredibly happy together. I feel they are somewhat the perfect person for the other.

Thanks for the ask.

#jon kent #damian wayne #flatline #dc comics #ask #super sons #jonathan kent #asks

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nevermoorfan6789 · 2 months ago

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I don't know if you have answered this already but what do you think happened to Jack's parents?

so I have a few different theories about jacks parents.

1: I don’t know how much I believe this one, but I have thought before that Mabey jacks parents weren’t actually related to Jupiter, because yk how sometimes people may call an older person uncle even if they biologically aren’t related. And I thought Mabey they pretend that they are related so people don’t find out the truth about Jack, because maybe he’s in nevermoor illegally, or Mabey he would be taken away from Jupiter. I’ve always thought that Jack has a dark past since he doesn’t really like to talk about it, so that’s also Lead me to believe that Mabey he had abusive parents. Idk it’s so interesting because there’s still so much we don’t know about Jupiter and Jack, and I find it weird that Jupiter has never mentioned having any other family members than Jack cause he would have to have a sibling for Jack to be his real nephew, and it would probably be a sister since Jacks last name is korraparti. Oh what if maybe Jupiter’s whole family is really toxic and or abusive, and he took Jack to get him out of that environment. That would kind of make sense.

but also with jacks parents we have to remember Jack only stared living with Jupiter about 4 years before Morrigan, so it’s not like Jupiter had him since he was a baby.

I’m not too sure what to think about jacks parents/past yet because there’s just so much we don’t know about it yet. I’m really hoping we find out more about him in silverborn because that’s one of the things I’m most interested in, but unfortunately I’m pretty sure Jessica said that Jack won’t be in silverborn a whole lot 🥲 which I hate because he’s in my top 3 characters.

I think what I want to know most about jacks parents is whether they’re even alive or not. It’s strange that we don’t know right?

also do you guys believe that Jupiter’s knack really got passed on to Jack or that it’s just a coincidence that they’re both witnesses, because we’ve never really heard of knacks being passed on before. And idk if it just me but it seems strange to inherit something like that from your uncle.

I think that’s all I’ve got right now but I’ve had many different theories before. Tell me about your theories I’d like to know what other people think about jacks parents and him and Jupiter’s family and past.

#nevermoor #wundersmith #morrigan crow #jupiter north #jack korrapati #ask me anything

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rogerswifesblog · 2 years ago

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Baking together w/Steve Rogers!!! He’s too precious ☺️☺️

Hiiii! Thank you for this request!!

I’m so sorry for not posting for so long:( a lot is happening right now and I don’t really have the time or motivation for anything:(

But I hope you’ll enjoy this fluffy Drabble!

Special is still open: click here for infos. You can find all drabbles/one shots under the tag 1 k followers special

You can still request! -> inbox:)

Cookies and cakes

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: none, just a bit sad Stevie but the fluff makes up for it<3

You’ve been an avenger for only a few months. Probably less than half a year. In this time you still managed to make friends and even started a little flirtation with Steve.

But being an avenger made your life harder than ever before. Even when you’ve been an Agent your life wasn’t as stressful as it was now, with the whole pressure of saving the world and all that…

Yet you still managed to find something that helps you clear your mind from time to time. Baking. Whenever you baked you felt a bit better, a bit calmer. Like a normal person. Or…as normal as you could manage.

Cake or cookies, it didn’t matter what you baked but it always helped you relax. Also, you knew everyone enjoyed your baked goods. Natasha liked your pastries, Tony and Bruce loved your brownies, Thor pretty much everything, the same for the twins and Bucky. And Steve-

“Could you maybe make those chocolate cookies again? They’re so good”, asked Steve, slightly embarrassed. Seeing him blush from a simple question made you smile at him. It was just so cute for someone to ask about your goods and be embarrassed about it. “Sure, Stevie. Would you like to help me? I can teach you?”, he immediately stood up from his stool walking over to you, already cuffing up his sleeves. “I’m pretty sure you need eggs, right?”

A soft laugh escaped your lips while you took all necessary ingredients and threw them in a bowl, then gave him it. Steve started stirring everything together, his gaze still glued to your silhouette. “How did-I mean-do you like it? I mean baking”, he stuttered, his cheeks turning a soft reddish color again.

Your lips twitched upwards, while you caressed his forearm with your fingers in thought. “Yeah, I’ve always enjoyed baking-the first cake I’ve baked was a banana cake. It tasted quite…interesting but was really nice. Not as bad as I thought it would be. Especially for it being my first…”, the memory of it making you sigh fondly.

Only a few seconds later you felt Steve arms wrapping around you to grab something from the counter. You’d breath hitched, while you slowly leaned back against his hard chest, expecting him to pull away, but instead he put one of his arms closer around you. Making you smile happily. A similar smile on Steve’s lips, which you couldn’t see. “I’ve always wished for someone to bake me a cake…one with blueberries…and strawberries….just fruits, you know? We never had a lot of fresh fruits”, he mumbled into your hair, his voice sounding nostalgic.

You’ve always been curious about his past, especially the food during the war and before it. About the baked goods, just everything. He never talked much about it. There were a few reasons why, for one Tony teased him about being older than half of the buildings in New York, which always made him frustrated and also nostalgic or sad. But you were curious. You wanted to get to know him. Steve was such a nice guy, you’d love to get closer to him, maybe even in a relationship.

Listening to him talking about a fruit cake he always wanted made you look over your shoulder at him. “Yeah? I can make you one..for the right price. I’m sure you could afford it tho…maybe a coffee together…”, you giggled, unintentionally leaning back against his chest a bit more, not noticing how Steve blushed at your words.

“You’d make me a cake? A cake for me?”, his innocent yet happy voice made you giggle again. “Of course Steve! I mean, I’m already baking cookies for you, so a cake won’t be a problem” “yeah, but you’ve made the cookies before. Everyone loves them…and you’d…make the cake because of me”, he mumbled. You could hear in his voice how unsure he was about it all.

You put down the bowl, turning around to him. “Steve. It’s just a cake…you deserve a cake, one that you’d like…if you don’t like getting one just because I want to make one let’s say it’s…for your birthday-“ “my birthday is in two months-“ “but you had many more, Steve. You spend nearly a hundred birthdays in the ice…you deserve a cake”, you smiled kindly, noticing tears welling up in his eyes, while his lips twitched upwards.

“Thank you…it’s…it’s really sweet of you. Nobody has ever done something like this for me, especially not now after waking up”, he sighed, surprising you with a tight hug. But it only lasted for a few seconds, before he quickly turned around and cleared his throat.

“Maybe we can do it tomorrow or-” “Don’t be silly, I’ll use the dough for the cake now-you just sit down and relax. Your cake will be ready in….let’s say, forty minutes? Yeah, i think I’ll manage in forty minutes.” You grabbed the bowl once again, adding other ingredients that’d be needed for the cake.

You heard him walk up to you, just watching how you prepared the dough. “Steven, you’re hovering. I can feel your breath on my neck-” “sorry, sorry.”

“Still feeling it…” “sorry, I just don’t want to let you do all the work”, he mumbled, making you chuckle quietly. While you shook your head you looked over your shoulder at him. “Then…get the fruits you want and slice them-not too thin.”

When Steve was done with his job you made him finally sit down at the table at wait (especially after he nearly made you trip over his feet, standing too close to you.)

After an hour the cake was finished and you were already taking it out of the oven, putting it out to let it cool. “So, you’re excited?”, you grinned at Steve, who was fidgeting in his seat.

He immediately started nodding, grinning brightly at you like a little kid. “Can we have some?” “In a few minutes, Steve, it has to cool down.”

Only a second later.

„Can we have some now?”

“Steve!” “Sorry, sorry. I’ll wait.”

But of course he did not wait, instead he burned his hand while touching the tray making you shake your head silently as he sucked at his hurting finger.

What. An. Idiot.

But you had fallen for him anyway.

Or maybe for this exact reason? Because he was just himself with you?

A few more minutes later you finally took out two plates and a knife, which you gave Steve. “I don’t wanna cut it. I’ll mess it up-“ “Stevie, it’s your cake. You’re the one to cut the first piece”, you smiled at him, stepping closer to him and wrapping your hand around his wrist, moving the knife with him.

You could feel his arm tremble a bit, his breathing hardening. He felt incredibly nervous so close to you, but he tried to hide it, especially when you leaned a bit against his body.

God, he could burst any second.

“Now, have a taste”, you smiled, finally having both a piece each. “Tell me how you like it.” You waited for him to take the first bite, watching how he slowly lifted the fork to his rosy, kissable lips.

A quiet moan rumbled in his chest while he chewed, immediately taking another bite. “Ish sho goof”, he mumbled with a full mouth, making you chuckle. “I’m glad you like it. It’s all for you”, you smiled while eating your own piece.

It was sweet how Steve seemed to enjoy the cake. He ate two more slices, before finally pushing the plate a bit away. “I’m full-and it was so, so good. I can’t believe you did that just for me”, he smiled contently, a small blush reappearing on his cheeks.

“You deserve a cake Steve, it’s just a cake”, you smiled at the blond man, gently taking his hand in yours. Both of you felt the tension that slowly grew. A little spark.

“You said it’s for my birthday, right?”

“Yeah, I did. A cake for one of your many birthdays that you missed”, you whispered, gently brushing your thumb over hos knuckles.

“So that means…I could wish for a birthday gift, too?” Steve’s question made you laugh quietly, but you nodded. “Sure? What do you want? But remember, I’m not Tony stark I don’t have a black car-”

“A kiss?”

Thank you for reading!

I hope you liked it! Leave some feedback and don’t forget to reblog!

Flood my inbox!:)

#1 k followers special #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #flood my inbox #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you

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multifandom-onigiri · 1 year ago

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Ok I’m going to rip off the bandage and talk about the age gap discourse surrounding DarkMilk

I’m going to preface this with a few disclaimers

1. The post is mainly going to center around Dark Choco as a character because there is (unsurprisingly) more to be said about Dark Choco Cookie from what I’ve gathered. (Edit: There was a lot more to be said.)

2. This post isn’t here to force you to change your interpretation or have your take away from this post as “I have to see Dark Choco as this age” or “DarkMilk’s age gap is [insert said range]”. Rather, it’s me presenting an interpretation with an analysis of the game. But nothing about their ages is explicitly confirmed or denied so I could be wrong. You could be wrong too. None of us are the writers.

3. Around half of this post relies on analyzing the Korean names of Dark Choco and Milk. As seen in my pinned post, I’m not Korean so I ran this post through with a mutual who is. That being said, that doesn’t mean this post is immediately 100% right so please correct this post if needed. (To the mutual in question, thank you so much for the help I really mean it.)

A while ago, I found a tweet and then a conversation under it between two users about young prince dark choco’s age based on his name is written in Korean: 어린 왕자.

It’s stated as such on the wiki for Cookie Run Ovenbreak (italicized because we’ll get to this in a bit) but here’s a screenshot in game

There’s two things to note with 어린 왕자

1) 어리다 means young but significantly so (as in the age of the person numerically is small, and thus they can be easily recognized as a child).

2) 어린 왕자 is apparently also the official Korean title for the book The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (Named as such for the young boy dubbed as the little prince and also yeah I’ve never read this book… else I’d have a segment in this post in speculating why this is the case)

Out of curiosity (and also because I hate missing or getting info wrong), I checked the Cookie Run (for Ovenbreak) wiki to confirm that’s how Young Prince was written. And then I rewatched the CRK Dark Mode cutscenes.

Turns out they changed the way they refer to Young Prince Dark Choco: 어린 왕자 다크초코 쿠키-> 젊은 시절의 다크초코 쿠키

Notable changes are:

1) For starters, 젊은 시절의 다크초코 쿠키 directly translates to “Dark Choco Cookie of Youth”. Note that the word prince was added in the English localization and is not included in the original text.

2) 젊다 is a different word that also means young. Specifically, it refers to being young in thought or action. However, it’s not the same type of young (think like how you would treat a baby/toddler vs. how you’d treat an older teen. With a baby, they’ve just started living and thus know very little about how things and people work. It’s cute at times and annoying at other times. On the other hand, teenagers are still children but they’ve lived much longer than babies, so you expect them to be more mature/responsible than a 5 year old). Also unlike 어리다, 젊다 can be used to describe anyone that’s younger than you and doesn’t really suggest a certain age range because it depends on the speaker and the person they’re referring to.

The big question that can be taken away from this is:

1) Why the change from 어리다 -> 젊다 ?

Disclaimer: I’m not Devsisters so I can really only make guesses but here’s the take we ended up with.

The writers for CRK realized that using the word 어리다 ended up making Young Prince Dark Choco seem younger than he should be, and that 젊다 was a more reasonable choice to properly depict Dark Choco’s age.

Something interesting that was brought up in addition to this point while this section was being checked over is that 어린 왕자 다크초코 쿠키 makes Young Prince Dark Choco sound like he’s a naive little boy who doesn’t know anything about the world because he is too young while 젊은 시절의 다크초코 쿠키 makes him sound like he’s a proper aged man who went through lots of things to obtain many achievements.

I’d also like to point out that they also haven’t changed the way they refer to Young Prince Dark Choco in CROB. It’s still 어린 왕자 다크초코 쿠키 (and I took the screenshot yesterday as of writing this to double check). And both CRK and CROB are treated as mainline games (but probably alternate universes) that are no more canon than the other.

If you ask me what this possibly means, I really don’t have an answer LOL

“So if they aged Young Prince Dark Choco up in CRK, how much older is he supposed to be compared to? Is it possible they aged him up to be an adult?”

The answer to these questions can be found on a specific post posted on March 25th, 2022 by @ gingerbrave_dev on instagram (and @ GingerBrave_Dev on twitter). Gingerbrave_dev is one of the official Cookie Run accounts.

It’s a collage of 4 pictures that depict Dark Choco Cookie growing up. The caption on both Instagram and Twitter is the same which reads as follows:

The important thing here is that Young Prince Dark Choco is *included* in this collage which is said by an official Cookie Run account to be a depiction of his childhood.

Meaning that it’s more likely that if there’s a possible cutoff for Young Prince Dark Choco’s age, the oldest Young Prince Dark Choco could be is 18. (The age range for adolescence, the last stage of child development, is between 13 - 18). But because they include Young Prince Dark Choco in this post, I personally think that Young Prince Dark Choco isn’t meant to be an adult overall.

(Ok quick edit: Adolescence is apparently the transitionary stage between childhood and adulthood but tbh I’m not sure if most people sit down and double check that every exact piece of info aligns with the correct word and definition when designing a character).

And that’s pretty much all I have on official statements and canon that directly (not really) talks about Young Prince Dark Choco’s age.

However, I want to shift the focus from discussing directly about what his age is to why I personally read Young Prince Dark Choco more as a teenager.

When I first saw Young Prince Dark Choco back in 2019, what stuck out to me was the stark contrast between this past version of Dark Choco and his current self. Young Prince Dark Choco is so much more hopeful and driven compared to his current self. He exudes a lot more confidence based on his lines and his main goal in CROB is to save his kingdom by gaining more power. We get the implications from how pessimistic current Dark Choco is that his own actions (obtaining the Strawberry Jam sword) leads to his kingdom’s downfall and he regrets those actions from his past.

For me, that was how I originally concluded he was a teenager. And honestly, I never really reflected about the actual reasoning until we started having this discourse 2 years later because the headcanon just seemed really natural to me.

Fast forward to January/February 2021 with the release of Cookie Run Kingdom, which ended up giving us a lot more lore on Dark Choco. There are two things that are relevant to my proposition of Dark Choco being a teenager.

1) The CRK Artbook

First released during the game’s release, it contains concept art of the world building and the characters (playable characters at the start of the game + ancients + legendaries), who get their own page or two to themselves.

I’m pulling this image off the internet because the one thing that stands out to me and that is also relevant to what we’re talking about is that the current Dark Choco presents more similarly to when he was a child (they’re both quiet and hold serious expressions on their faces).

Meaning that Young Prince Dark Choco is confirmed to not be Dark Choco’s original personality (for lack of better words. I don’t know how to word this better). And seeing Dark Choco and Dark Cacao standing next to each other, you can see how much they resemble each other. Like father, like son.

So the question is: why is Young Prince Dark Choco’s demeanor completely different from when he was younger?

Personally, I think the answer is much more simple than one might think: Young prince Dark Choco was a teenager. More specifically (and this is how I’ll segueway into the next section), Young Prince Dark Choco was an earnest teenager prince who began to question and challenge the traditions/structure of the Dark Cacao Kingdom and of his father.

2) Dark Choco, Dark Cacao, and the Generational Divide that Drives Them Apart

The release of Dark Mode would bring both a lot more long-awaited lore for Dark Choco, and also Dark Cacao Cookie, who piqued people’s interest especially since he is Dark Choco’s father.

The most significant moments happen through the magic-induced flashbacks Dark Choco is forced to relive through, where Young Prince Dark Choco interacts with multiple people. This includes his Dark Cacao, who is the only person to have two separate flashbacks.

The first flashback is a conversation between Dark Choco and Dark Cacao which will be posted below:

What Dark Choco says here stands out to me: “Our Kingdom is in need of change…! We can’t keep hiding behind our walls!

The Dark Cacao Kingdom’s walls is a major subject of Chapters 13 and 14, as one of the main conflicts in that chapter is between the people and Dark Cacao. The villagers outside the kingdom’s walls have been struggling with food shortages and attacks from wild animals. They’ve been trying to contact the king for help but Affogato intercepts and closes the door on them before they can. Meanwhile, most of the resources are being used on maintaining the kingdom’s walls, which causes a change in the portion of the food Dark Cacao’s subjects are receiving. Affogato takes advantages of this to try to cause dissent among Dark Cacao’s court, which was his original plan until the Cookies of Darkness show up.

What’s revealed about why Dark Cacao spends so much time and resources on maintaining the kingdom’s walls is that the walls serve as a safeguard against the Licorice monsters in the Licorice Sea from overtaking the land and eventually the entire world. We get to see a great example of this as Licorice Cookie summons a gigantic Licorice Monster that proceeds to break down a significant portion of the walls.

So from what we read in chapters 13 and 14, we can conclude that the walls is very necessary in protecting the Dark Cacao Kingdom and the Licorice Monsters are nothing to be laughed at. They’re formidable enemies.

It’s very likely from the way that the walls are Dark Cacao’s #1 priority rather than directly addressing whatever is happening with the villages outside the walls that Dark Cacao probably has had previous firsthand experience with the Licorice Monsters and consider them that much of a serious threat.

From the way Young Prince Dark Choco talks to Dark Cacao in the flashback, it sounds like he doesn’t share the same perspective as Dark Cacao.

This is why I think Young Prince Dark Choco being a teenager is a major factor into this difference of perspective.

The thing about teenagers is that during that stage of life, they are going through a lot or at least they think they’re going through a lot because that’s when puberty starts to kick in and the hormones start jumping over the place.

They start questioning their identity. Who they are, what they want to be, what their role is in society. They’re trying to figure out how to be their own person.

They can start questioning the rules. Why am I doing [insert here] ? Why doesn’t Mom and Dad let me do this and that? Why do I have to do this? And because of this, they can become defiant and challenge authority and even what they previously just accepted as fact.

Because of this, teenagers take risks and can make bad or stupid decisions all the time. They end up clashing more with their parents because their parents recognize that their kid will regret what they’re doing later due to the consequences their kid will have to face (and possibly even due to firsthand experience when they themselves were teenagers).

I think all of this applies to this particular flashback.

a) Questioning

Young Prince Dark Choco argues that the kingdom, and by extension, the way Dark Cacao runs it needs to change. He describes kingdom’s walls not as defense, but as a means to hide, which frames the amount of time that the people of the Dark Cacao Kingdom have been living behind as a sign of fear/cowardice. This is also in response to Dark Cacao telling him that he’s still young and has a lot to learn. The flashback seems to throw us, the reader, right into the middle of the conversation without any previous context but with Dark Choco’s response, I think the conversation they were having is overall related to Young Prince Dark Choco’s response.

b) Identity

Something to keep in mind that every person is unique and how they grow up is largely influenced by their environment (the family and friends around them, their socioeconomic status, etc).

Young Prince Dark Choco is not your average human being Cookie. He is the son of Dark Cacao, who is the one of the most powerful cookies in the entire cast outside of the legendaries and the dragons, a warrior known for his abnormal strength (the sword he uses takes 3 regular cookies to carry it) and heroic deeds (like splitting the White and Black Dragon which is treated like a legendary tale), and due to all of the previous, an esteemed king beloved by all of his subjects.

By being the son of Dark Cacao and therefore, the prince of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, Young Prince Dark Choco had a whole legacy to live up to. And although we know Young Prince Dark Choco ends up not being able to live to that legacy due to the Strawberry Jam Sword, we do know from other characters that Dark Choco at that time was doing really well.

Note that if Caramel Arrow, the First Watcher, says that Dark Choco Cookie taught her how to use the bow, then that means that he is most likely also exemplary not with just swordsmanship but also archery as well.

Also don’t forget about how Dark Choco saves the Milk Village from a pack of cream wolves, which leaves a great impression on the Milk Cookie we know.

For the most part, I think Young Prince Dark Choco cares about the people and the kingdom he lives in. He seems very earnest in wanting to help his kingdom from what can be seen in his costume lines in CROB.

But I also think there’s one more underlying possibility behind Young Prince Dark Choco’s character: Young Prince Dark Choco wants to be a hero like his own father because he wants his father’s approval.

In Chapter 14. Dark Choco and Dark Cacao have a very heated conversation right before they try to kill each other. In this conversation, Dark Choco talks about the grievances he’s held against his father over the many years since he was banished. One of the grievances that he mentions is about how he wishes his father cared about him more.

(Note: There’s been issues with the ENG dub for Ch 13 and 14 where the localization makes Dark Choco come off as harsher and more insensitive (so to speak) even if it’s not accurate to the original text.

For the first screenshot, a more accurate translation would be “Ever since I was little, you didn’t give me anything sweet and treated me harshly. We were not even close as father and son like other people.”

Second screenshot is fine.)

This is later acknowledged by Dark Cacao himself as who says after they finish their heated conversation, fight, and finish their sword fight with Dark Cacao defeating Dark Choco: “It is clear as day now… My life’s greatest regret is that I never gave you enough… love”. (And this acknowledgment and really the confrontations leading up to the acknowledgment is the key to Dark Choco finally being able to break away from the sword, but that’s an analysis for another day).

There’s also these illustrations from the art book that stand out to me in this regard (and also makes me depressed). The first illustration showcases young Dark Choco walking behind his father and in his shadow. It actually gets redrawn in a different perspective in the collage of Dark Choco’s childhood I showed earlier, where it adds the detail of young Dark Choco tugging at Dark Cacao’s cloak. In the second illustration, Dark Choco is holding onto the Strawberry Jam sword and staring down at Dark Cacao, who is seated and bent over.

The thing that stays consistent is that Dark Cacao’s back is turned towards him, and I think this represents both this distance in their relationship and Dark Choco’s inability to ever connect with Dark Cacao very well.

I think the combination of his accomplishments during this part of his life and his desire to be closer to his father and gain his approval causes Dark Choco to start both overestimating his abilities and coming to the wrong conclusions. And I don’t necessarily mean this as “Dark Choco became arrogant” because even Dark Cacao says it himself: “What a bright and responsible child he was… Kind, humble…”

But I do believe the reason Young Prince Dark Choco’s costume lines in CROB and the monologue Dark Choco gives after he decides to quit working for Dark Enchantress talks about power and how he was looking for it is because Young Prince Dark Choco wrongly assumed that the kingdom’s problems were a result of not having enough power and then concluded that he could solve those issues if he found a way to become more powerful.

And with what I talked about earlier about how Dark Cacao most likely considers the Licorice Monsters a serious threat that can’t instead just be simply dealt and done with, there’s a chance that Dark Choco not only overestimates his own abilities but also underestimates how powerful and dangerous the Licorice Monsters are because he’s likely never had any firsthand experience with them in his lifetime unlike Dark Cacao.

And my guess is that Dark Cacao noticed this and tried to advise Dark Choco against this conclusion, and that’s what at the root of the first flashback between Young Prince Dark Choco and Dark Cacao.

3) Defiance

Unfortunately, the last two sections I’ve just talked about ends up leading to what we know ends up happening to Dark Choco. He does not listen to Dark Cacao. He finds the Strawberry Jam Sword, believing that it’ll give him the power he needs to solve his problems. Instead he falls prey to what the sword whispers to him, and this results in slashing his father in the chest. This results in Dark Cacao banishing Dark Choco from entering the Dark Cacao Kingdom.

TDLR for this section: The difference in the years of experience between Dark Choco and Dark Cacao causes a major clash between them on how to tackle the Dark Cacao Kingdom’s current issues. Out of both an earnest desire to help the Kingdom he grew up in and the people he grew up with and cares about and a desire to gain his father’s approval by striving to be the type of hero his father is, Dark Choco looks for the Strawberry Sword and falls victim to its powers, which heavily damages the relationship between father and son all the way until Chapter 14 of CRK.

You’ve probably reached this part still absorbing a bunch of information and speculation I’ve thrown at you. Unfortunately, I still have to talk about Milk so yes the post somehow still isn’t over. Luckily or unluckily (depending on how you interpret it), there’s a lot less stuff I can really say about his age, and there won’t be a very extensive character analysis like there is with Dark Choco because Milk Cookie does not have nearly the amount of lore or dedicated writing as Dark Choco does.

Milk in the Dark Mode flashbacks in CRK is referred to as 우유 일족의 어린 쿠키 which translates to Young Cookie of the Milk Tribe. As you can see, the word 어리다 is used to refer to Milk, indicating that Milk Cookie was definitely a child. He’s nowhere close to being an adult.

Unlike with Dark Choco, there really aren’t any other details in his backstory that really suggest a certain age range. The most prominent characteristics about Milk Cookie is that he is strongly attached to his beliefs, and within those beliefs is the belief that Dark Choco is an infallible hero that stems from what happened in the past. The root of that belief is admiration, and admiration… isn’t an age-specific trait. You can look up to many types of people and have role models at any point of your life.

I think really the one thing that does get indicated is that Milk is undeniably younger than Dark Choco.

The first image is the concept art for Milk Cookie that was released around Milk Cookie’s release (I assume. I didn’t see this until 2-3 years later). The second image is from the background of Milk’s doctor costume’s gacha art in CROB.

I think that stands out to me the most is that after staring at it, both of these share a pretty similar height gap between them. However, the second photo makes both of them seem taller especially Milk because of Dark Choco’s legs, which are almost half of his body, gets cut off by the photo. The first image also makes Dark Choco seem a lot bigger because of how it’s sketched out (the shoulder pads and cloak end up making Dark Choco look a lot bigger than he actually is in general LOL).

If you asked me to try to gauge the age gap between these two photos, the only thing I’d tell you really is that there’s no way it’s a 10-15 year age gap; height gap is way too short for that. But I can’t tell you a definitive guess because I’m going to be honest: Cookie Run does not do a great job telling you the ages of characters and just leaves it up to the reader to interpret themselves. There’s not really a standard for what a teenager looks like in Cookie Run, and I feel like that’s the reason why people in this fandom really sort characters into either children or adults. It’s because of this that I also think that nobody in the fandom really knows how to determine that themselves, or else I wouldn’t have written a whole analysis on why I think it’s actually reasonable to see Dark Choco as a teenager in this post. (And there’s also a few other characters that have also gone through age discourse but I don’t want to even touch that right now at all LOL).

(Edit at 12:22 pm because I feel like I need to add this: It’s not the fandom’s fault for not being able to determine ages. It’s solely on Devsisters alone because if the writers aren’t clear, then it’s much harder for the fandom to agree upon anything.)

I also think that realistically you can’t really… come up with an infallible standard for how tall a person is supposed to be at a certain age because people grow up differently depending on multiple factors. People of the same age group aren’t all the same height or weight in real life.

And it’s even more difficult to tell literally anything if the writers refuse to actually confirm anything clearly and instead use vague descriptive terms.

That being said, I can’t actually point at you and say you’re wrong because of what age gap you give to Milk and Dark Choco because as I said in the beginning of this post, I don’t know anything. I also think it does go both ways though, and less people should stop acting like their interpretation has been completely canonized.

But at the end of the day, we’ll keep reading the same stories from the same franchise and interpret how we want to. I HC DarkMilk with a two year age gap. You don’t have to agree (and I bet a lot of people don’t LOL). And that’s okay.

If you ask me whether I’ll make another post talking about this topic, the answer is an absolute resounding no because I think this is the most in-depth I could possibly be about this topic to the point this is definitely my longest post ever. I don’t think there is anything else I can say.

If you liked this analysis, you don’t need to do anything. If you’re extremely tired from reading this, this is the most understandable reaction to this post, and I hope you have a good day.

#holy fucking shit. it’s done. it’s over. oh my fucking goddd #cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #dark choco cookie #dark cacao cookie #milk cookie #darkmilk #dark cacao cookie gets tagged because he’s an important part of the analysis #cinder rambles #long post

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ssruis · 4 months ago

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i like youre posts, thoughts on ruinene ?

As a romantic dynamic: I don’t really think abt them that way… it’s the unrepentant emunene/ruikasa bias. Also a lot of rui & nene’s interactions read as very… sibling-like? To *me*. Personally. I hesitate to say sibling-like, because people get really weird about assigning family dynamics to characters who aren’t related or raised as siblings and have never referred to each other as siblings (“it’s basically incest” no it is not what are you on), but it’s something similar to that imo. Gestures at nene’s new 3rd anniversary 2* card story where Rui is like “I remember when you were reading picture books… and now you’re reading more advanced books… how time flies…” & she’s like “stop treating me like a kid 😑” despite being him being only one year older than her.

I don’t have anything against it (& I think taking shipping fictional characters seriously enough to fight over it is ridiculous), it’s just not for me & I don’t see it romantically. But for the people who do: you do you have fun enjoy yourselves. (I also personally think Rui is gay coded but again. Idc if people disagree it doesn’t affect me I’m glad they’re having fun. Also that’s a hot button topic & I don’t want the people who do take this shit too seriously to hunt me down with pitchforks and torches please go outside it’s not that deep.)

As a platonic dynamic/going off what’s in canon: I’m so obsessed with them (as I am with all wxs dynamics). They’re so fascinating to me. They make me so sad. Another reason I hate the “they’re siblings” thing is it feels like a boring restrictive box people want to shove their dynamic into that does a disservice to how interesting it is. It waters it down.

Nene was the only person Rui really had as a friend when he was a kid, and the only person who trusted in him and his ideas. They grew their love for theatre together. At some point they grew distant - we don’t know why, but my personal take on it is this:

1. Rui slowly growing to think he would never find anyone who got him after experiencing rejection after rejection, and pushing Nene away. A combination of “I need to leave her before she leaves me, this way it will hurt less because it’s My Choice”, “I shouldn’t inflict myself upon other people it’s better for everyone if I stay by myself”, and “Nene has her own friends now I would just be dragging her down.”

2. Nene having her own friends (new troupe) and slowly pulling back - or, at least, not actively trying to prevent him pushing her away. “I don’t want to experience the same social rejection, and I don’t know how to help Rui, there’s nothing I can do.” Nene, especially in the early days, has never been very assertive, and I don’t think favoring blending into the background over standing out (in a potentially embarrassing way) due to Rui’s stunts and ideas would be out of character for her.

3. I don’t think they went to the same middle school/junior high (I could be wrong) (did they even go to the same elementary school?) which meant they didn’t spend time together without one of them reaching out, which became increasingly rare.

I don’t think either of them are to blame. Or they share equal blame, depending on how you look at it. I see people placing more of the blame on Nene though, which is… Nene get behind me. Leave her alone. If you held my prsk account at gunpoint and said “ok but seriously who is more to blame for the relationship breakdown you have choose or your 4*s are gone forever” I would say Rui. Wouldn’t even have to think about it. Given his abandonment issues/avoidant tendencies/habit of pushing others away/pre main story mindset, it’s what makes the most sense.

They don’t really reconnect until the main story, and even then I wholeheartedly believe Rui was less interested in reconnecting than he was interested in getting Nene to perform again. He accepts Tsukasa’s invitation to WxS under the condition that he gets to bring in a fourth member and then immediately tries to leave the second Tsukasa is like “I don’t want to die wtf.” like he doesn’t even try that hard to convince him he just goes “ok bye have fun nene :).”

Rui builds Nene a robot so she can perform again which - I’ve talked about it before briefly, I need to talk about it at length at some point, but while that’s very sweet it’s also… not helpful. Not in the long run, at least. It wasn’t a *bad* thing, it was just the only solution he was capable of offering. It was a bandaid over a gaping wound situation - Nene couldn’t hide behind a robot forever. Rui couldn’t always be there to fix nenerobo, she couldn’t pursue performing seriously behind a robot, and she *wanted* to be on stage again. What Nene needed was the courage to get on stage again, and Rui didn’t have the skill set to help with that, because it was something Nene needed to find on her own (with support).

The thing about them in the early days is they both enabled each other to stagnate in situations they weren’t happy with. Maybe more so Rui than Nene, in that he literally built he a robot to allow her to avoid confronting her anxiety around performing, but Nene also lacked the ability to challenge or discourage Rui’s “I’m better off on my own” mindset. The tragic consequences of two people who lack social skills (one of which has pretty severe social anxiety) trying to help each other. Nothing really gets done.

(As an aside: this is why the emu+nene and tsukasa+rui dynamics are so crucial. Yes even outside of a ship dynamic I promise I’m accounting for my own bias. Emu+tsukasa did actually have the ability to encourage nene+rui to come out of their shells - Emu is Nene’s no.1 hype man and always encourages her in everything she does and pushes her outside her comfort zone socially. Nene doesn’t have to guess at what Emu is thinking & get caught up in the weeds of anxiety bc Emu will just tell her outright. Rui credits Tsukasa specifically with giving him the chance to change for a reason, and Mizuki/pandemonium NPCs point out that Rui has seemed so much happier and less closed off since becoming Tsukasa’s friend. Pointing @ the thing Rui’s CV said about as you like it.)

There’s still some degree of guilt on Nene’s side wrt being unable to help Rui even now, but that’s lessened over the course of the story. There’s a lot that goes unsaid between them about their shared past, but they also understand each other incredibly well after knowing each other for ~10 years. By virtue of knowing each other forever they’re both well acquainted with how the other’s mind works.

Nene can tell what’s bothering Rui in wonder halloween before even he realizes it, and she understands that he struggles to explain/articulate his feelings and issues in curtain call. Rui is tuned into Nene’s anxiety saw trap of a mind and is well versed in getting her to realize she’s overthinking things (I.e. “why don’t you just ask tsukasa what he did in the acting camp” in her emu3 2* card. I think that’s the right card) as well as getting her to speak up (shutting emu up with a donut in one of the earlier nene card stories so nene has a chance to talk. source here is just trust me I don’t want to hunt the card down).

Nene is always in his corner, and the reverse is true. They want each other to be happy and they’re so so so pleased that the other is doing better now. Nene often points out that Rui seems happier, and Rui is very proud of how far Nene has grown both on the stage and off it. Love their dynamic it’s so good… I care them…

#Ty 4 ask. love to rotate them in my mind.#if you’re wondering why I kept emphasizing the ‘in MY opinion this is just MY take it’s fine to disagree’ it’s bc I know how this fanbase #works. & I am not trying to get burned at the stake bc someone crawling thru the rui+nene tags 2 weeks from now #saw someone they’ve never spoken to say ‘idk it’s just not my thing�� & decided they needed to tear my limbs off like a rabid chimp #insert that one jerma clip where it’s like ‘jerma talks to his audience like they’re a bunch of monkeys who will kill him if he’s not #entertaining enough’ bc that’s exactly how it feels to talk abt pjsk ships in depth.#mine #asks #analysis #rui #nene

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murdockbuckley · 8 months ago

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omg 10 wips?? which one is your favourite?

better yet, what is your favourite line from each??

i cannot pick a favourite but here are some snippets from a few!!

1. aroace eddie

It was forced upon him with the expectation of a domesticity pertaining to romantic love. An expectation he could never live up to, for a reason he could never admit to - for fear of being known, of being shamed, of being different.

2. girldad!buck

I remember the first time you told me about the family you made for yourself in LA. About how your Captain felt more like a father to you than Philip ever did. About Hen and Chim who felt like your older siblings. And how Athena marrying Bobby made her your sort-of-not-really-but-kinda mother. I know the bond you all have has only grown stronger through the years. They are your family. Her family too, introduce her to them. Let her know her grandparents and her aunts and uncles; Maddie is right in that they would all love and accept her, no matter how long you think you’ve ‘kept her secret’.

Ask them for help. They will help you without any hesitation, okay?

I know Eddie is probably there with you, or you’ll be telling him as soon as you’ve finished reading this. Lean on him. Accept his help. Talk to him. You are each other's safety nets, so don’t be afraid to fall into him.

3. poet!buck #1

Later that week, Buck found himself alone in his apartment with the rain pattering gently on the windows. Not the most ideal weather for him, but if he wants to write about his thoughts from that night, and everyday since, he supposes it’s a fitting choice. Maybe The Universe is trying to help jog his memory - it’s not as if he remembers every excruciating detail of every moment.

He sat, with pen in hand, on the floor in front of the coffee table. Maybe not the wisest decision because his leg pain will inevitably flair up, especially if he’s not careful. But he got some floor cushions, the big and comfy circle kind - they’re not bean bags Eddie - that he brought for the purpose of playing board games with anyone who would keep him company.

Buck supposes trying to hack into his ten year old self’s brain to write some shitty poetry is also a good use for them.

4. poet!buck #2

They were sat just far enough from the others Eddie didn’t feel bad about starting this conversation now. Besides he was curious, and he’s almost died enough times to satisfy that curiosity (Buck had already taken care of the being brought back part of the idiom).

As Buck was about to say something more, a grape hit him in the forehead. He reeled back with an offended look and Eddie hid a chuckle behind his drink.

“What are you two love birds talking about?”

“None of your business, Howard.” He threw the grape back at Chim, Eddie laughed at his offended expression.

“Oh come on. Were you just flirting with my brother in law, Diaz?”

Eddie smirked, “Oh yeah. I was telling him all the things I would do to him when we make you look after Chris next week. Like-”

“Oh gross. I love you boys but I do not want to be hearing about your sex life,” Hen interrupted, Chim exaggeratedly nodded along with her while the others laughed at her disgust.

“Chim asked! Besides, I never said it was about sex.”

“Alright, knock it off now. The actual kids are coming to eat, let’s keep it age appropriate?”

Buck floundered, “But- but I know so much about your sex life because of Bobby that’s not fair.”

Athena shut him up with a warning glare, Bobby pressed a smiling kiss to her temple.

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separatist-apologist · 1 year ago

Text

The Fire Won't Burn Me

All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life

for @elucienweekofficial

Summary: Princess Elain Archeron wants nothing more than to be reunited with her missing youngest sister and to see her father finally emerge from the fog of grief he's been living under since her mother died. When her step mother arranges for her older sister to fetch her youngest to celebrate Elain's impending engagement to a neighboring prince, it seems like she'll get her wish. That is, until her father's fearsome huntsman steps in and wrecks it all. Now she's on the run, hiding in the forest to keep herself- and her heart- intact.

In her quest to understand why someone would want her heart carved from her chest, Elain will have to reconcile what it means to truly be the fairest of them all

“Jurian, what do you know about sleeping curses?” Elain asked, carefully braiding her pie crust. Jurian glanced over at Elain, seated on the floor as he worked on her overturned chair.

“Does that seem like something I would know a lot about?” he replied dryly, though Elain could see the spark of interest in his brown eyes.

“Well…no,” she admitted, turning back to her pie. “But you do know a lot of things. I thought maybe you’d heard something.”

“What makes you ask?” Jurian returned to his screw driver, though she knew his whole focus was on the conversation unfolding around them. Elain, too, didn’t really want to work on her pie, though it was at least something to do with her hands. Lucien had vanished before she woke. She had the vague memory of his lips on her cheek murmuring he’d be back which might have been a dream. Elain couldn’t be sure.

“I heard the princess was placed under an enchanted sleep,” she told Jurian carefully, noting the way his eyes cut toward her for a moment. “I was just curious how they were broken.”

He grunted in response. There was nothing but silence between them, and the scraping of wood and Elain’s timer for her oven quietly chiming. And then—

“Magic requires balance,” he murmured gruffly, not looking at her at all. “Spells, curses…those sorts of things always have some sort of exploitable loophole. If the princess is trapped, there has to be a way to free her. Otherwise, the caster incurs the cost.”

Elain blinked. Lucien hadn’t said anything about Amarantha being damaged, though she still asked, “Incurs what kind of cost?”

Jurian shrugged. “It depends, I s’pose, on the power. For a sleeping curse…and suspended death? A heavy cost, I would imagine. So most casters, if they’re skilled, build a backdoor into their curses. If they’re very skilled, they’ll create specific conditions under which the curse can be lifted, which appeases nature because there is no permanence to it.”

“You know an awful lot,” Elain said, wondering who Jurian actually was. Hardly the grumpy tradesman working the mines and keeping her alive. This was the sort of knowledge that only someone close to magic, someone with an education, would have.

He did look at her, then. “You have your secrets and I have mine.”

“Do you know what the loophole is?” Elain asked instead, thinking whatever it was could be broken, so long as she knew the exact conditions.

Jurian shook his head. “There’ll be something that tells people, though. If you went to see the princes…a placard, a talking squirrel…something that announced it. Curses are specific like that.”

“That seems too easy,” Elain said, abandoning the pretense of work entirely. “Surely there’s some catch.”

“Well, just because you know how to break the curse doesn’t mean the means to do so will be readily available. Perhaps the thing you need has yet to be invented. Or is so rare you have to make a perilous journey that no one has ever managed to survive. Your savior might be a baby, or some rare seed that only blooms in one place at one time in the year.”

That dampened her spirits a bit. So there was a way to free Nesta, but it was likely to be impossible. Jurian turned back to his chair and Elain left her pie in the oven, scooping bird feed in a bucket to get some fresh air and clear her thoughts. The worst of winter was coming—the longest night of the year would be upon them that night. Feyre’s birthday, she remembered with a pang. Where was she? Had Nesta even found her? Somehow, Elain doubted it. In Amarantha’s bid to remove the three of them, Feyre had been the first to go. Still, Elain was certain Feyre must be alive, just as she was sure Nesta was, too. It was a strange hunch, a feeling she’d always had—some sort of sense that let her know what was happening even when she had no business knowing it.

Just as Elain knew she could trust Lucien, despite being tasked with carving out her heart. He’d take her to Nesta, and together, they’d figure out how to uncurse her—and then, somehow, they’d find Feyre, too. Overthrow Amrantha, though Elain didn’t quite know how they’d do that, too. Only that she knew they would, just as she knew the sun would set and her name was Elain Archeron.

“Don’t open this door for strangers,” Jurian warned her, just as he always did when he left. He checked the hinges, satisfied they weren’t squeaky, and left her just like he always did.

Elain had begun to suspect he didn’t want to see Lucien stroll in, which he did an hour later. Elain smiled, the table already set as Lucien kicked snow off his boots and hung up his cape.

“It’s warm in here,” he said with an easy, handsome smile. “Smells good.”

“I missed you, too,” she replied, delighted when he came into the kitchen. Hands skimming her shoulders, Lucien lowered himself to press a kiss to her cheek. “It's the solstice tonight.”

Something sparked in his gaze. “Yes. I have a gift for you, actually.”

Elain’s heart stumbled. “A gift? For me?”

“Don’t look so surprised, princess,” he teased, beckoning for her to leave the kitchen and join him on the little rundown sofa. She sat beside him, waiting as Lucien procured a little box from his pocket.

“It’s not much,” he began, letting her take that velvet thing from him. Elain opened it, surprised to find a little pearl set atop a simple, silver band. Looking up at him, she found him not sitting on the couch, but on one knee before her.

“You don’t need to marry a foreign prince,” he whispered, holding her gaze with steady, sure eyes. “I’ll protect you. I love you. And I know I’m not much, but–”

“Yes,” she breathed, dropping the box beside her, ring and all, to reach for his face. “Of course, Lucien—yes, I will.”

His smile was like the first spring sun. Blinking away what she suspected were tears, he kissed her softly—at first. Elain forgot all about dinner and everything else when his lips were slanted over her own. Lucien reached for her hair, inadvertently pulling her into his lap on the floor. Elain could taste the apology on his lips, sharp and metallic, which would lead Lucien to setting her back to the sofa and treating her like a princess.

But Elain wasn’t stupid. She knew what men and women did together, and that she was only shielded from it because high born ladies belonged to their husbands long before they ever belonged to themselves. Lucien likely had been with women of his station without treating them like spun glass.

Why not her, too? She’d been trying, and he’d thwarted her at every turn. Not since that first time on that very sofa, but even then he hadn’t taken things all the way. Not how she wanted, at any rate. So when Lucien opened his mouth to tell her he was sorry for being so rough, Elain merely sank her teeth against his bottom lips.

Lucien’s groan reverberated through them both. That’s more like it, she thought with private delight. The proof of his desire was carefully wedged along the curve of her ass, though she suspected Lucien wasn’t aware of that fact. He was too busy kissing like he needed her to breathe. Elain was drunk on the feeling of being in love for the first time in her life and with a man like Lucien, no less. Not the prince she’d once imagined, but better. This was special, and he was special.

Reaching behind her, Elain grasped the ring. “Put it on me” she gasped, watching as Lucien fumbled the little box for a moment before finally—finally—getting that pretty, pearl ring out. He slid it against her third finger, admiring it for just a moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. “We should eat—”

“No,” Elain replied, holding his stubbled cheeks beneath her fingers. “Take me upstairs, Lucien. I’m tired of waiting.”

“Elain—”

She didn’t want to hear it. Not tonight, not now. Not ever. Elain captured his mouth before he could truly tell her no and tuck her into bed, scurrying away like a scared little mouse. She wanted him, and judging by the way he was trying to angle his hips away from her, Elain guessed he wanted her, too. It was easy enough to scoot closer until her breasts were flush against his chest and her hands were on his neck.

In another life, he would have been a stranger to her. No one special—the caretaker of the forest and little more. Here, though, in this place, Lucien would be her husband. Elain swore the very world itself offered its approval, though maybe that was just a result of her own rapidly beating heart.

“Elain,” Lucien groaned against her lips. She could have cried, half crushed when he lifted her with such ease, pulling her into his arms like she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched. It was talent that kept her against him as he walked her up to the loft, especially when her own fingers were undoing his buttons so when he dropped her to the bed, he shrugged it off with a casual elegance that robbed her of breath. She’d hoped to see bare skin, but beneath the jacket was a white shirt, tucked into his laced up pants, the ties undone around his chest.

“Elain—”

“Take it off,” she breathed, propping herself up on her elbows. “I want to see you.”

“I’m not much to look at,” he replied, though he pulled that shirt up over his head all the same. She almost laughed—not at his chiseled, broad body, but his declaration he wasn’t much to look at. Every inch of his golden brown skin was a marvel, so lovely and smooth—even where it was scarred. Elain kept her eyes on him, surprised by how his hands seemed to tremble when he reached for his laces. She’d seen this part of him before. It was nice to see the whole of him, though—muscular and broad, with those strong thighs and the rigid length of him bobbing just between.

Lucien ran a hand over his lower stomach, fingers brushing a trail of auburn hair. “Now you,” he whispered. Elain had half hoped he’d rip her clothes off her body, if only to spare her the embarrassment of disrobing in front of him. What if he didn’t like what he saw? Elain had to trust that no matter what he found lying beneath her clothes, he’d like it.

She had that pearl ring on her finger, afterall. Elain rose, reaching for the ties on her bodice while Lucien gripped the base of his cock, his face ravenous. That helped, she thought. He wanted her just as badly as she did. An ache had begun building between her legs, throbbing impatiently with nothing to alleviate it.

Swallowing, Elain pushed the dress from her shoulders, delighted at the soft whimper that escaped Lucien’s throat. It took only another moment to remove her under things so she was utterly naked before him. They weren’t so close they could touch, though Lucien dared a hesitant step.

And then another.

And another.

Until his fingers brushed the valley between her breasts, skimming over her collarbone, up her neck and beneath her jaw. He tilted her face so she was looking up at him. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “My wife.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that exploded out of her. It was nerves, and his closeness, combined with his very hot erection pushed against her belly. They were doing this. She wanted to do this. “Not yet.”

Lucien brushed an errant curl from her face. “In my head, you already are. Everything else is merely formality.”

She smiled, surging up on her tiptoes to press her mouth to his. “My husband is sentimental, then?”

“Only when it comes to you,” he replied, his own grin warm and sweet against her lips. Lucien effectively silenced her with a bruising kiss, one hand sliding down her spine while the other remained firmly grasping his cock. Elain couldn’t help her soft moan of pleasure. He was molten, so warm he might have been made of flame, of pure sunlight.

Elain knew no matter how close she got, he wouldn’t burn her. He was safe—he was hers. Elain reached for his shoulders, grazing her nails over his skin gently just because she could. Lucien shuddered, pushing her back to the bed. This time, though, he came with her until his weight was settled over her pleasantly. Elain wiggled, legs parting until he was resting just between the cradle of her thighs. She could feel his cock wedged against her hip, pushing against her stomach when he rolled his hips.

That ache she’d been feeling bloomed, spreading like flower petals in the sun. It was going to consume her if she wasn’t careful. And maybe, just this once, Elain didn’t want to be careful. Everyone else was always urging her to consider the danger of things, to protect herself over everything—at the expense of her own life. Elain wanted to take a risk, to take something for herself, even if it meant getting hurt in return.

He’d let go of his cock in favor of skimming his hands over her body. Elain whimpered when she felt his fingers dragging up the sensitive skin of her thigh, forgetting where his mouth was—currently trailing down her neck.

“Been thinking about this for weeks,” he whispered, teeth nipping against her collarbone. “Need to taste you or I’ll go out of my mind.”

Elain raked her fingers through his hair, digging at his scalp. “You may do whatever you like to me.”

The groan of need that ripped out of him echoed off the walls. “Too much power will surely go to my head.”

“Take it,” was all she could think to say. Her words were little more than a gasp when that clever mouth of his found the pebbled peak of her nipple and drew it into his mouth. The heat and the slickness of his tongue seemed to draw reactions from her seemingly without her input. Elain’s body bucked against his, delighted when his erection ground against her. He groaned, bracing his body weight on one arm just beside her.

Elain dragged her nails along his bicep. Lucien’s hair fell around her face, smokey and soft just like his mouth, his skin, his hands. She wasn’t the only one unraveling—even as Lucien licked along her skin, fingers pinching the now wet nipple so he could lavish praise and attention on the other, he was all but writhing against her.

“Lucien,” she breathed, lifting her hips in invitation. He didn’t take it, though he looked between their bodies with unmistakable hunger gracing his beautiful face. His need made her blood run hot—this was what she’d dreamt of. Not the sex, but the desire coursing through him, making the careful, clever man she’d fallen in love with a desperate, needy creature. He only moaned his agreement before continuing his slide down her body.

She knew what he intended to do. She understood from the way he kept his tongue on her, eyes locked on her face. Silently informing her that what he’d done with his hands all those nights ago, he now planned to do with his mouth. Elain squirmed under his warm breath and his fingers spreading her wider for his hungry gaze.

She wanted this. All of it. Everything he’d ever imagined, all the things he might have done with other women—she wanted that, too. She wanted to overtake every memory in his mind until she was all he thought about, all he dreamt about. Elain wanted to experience these things, too. If he was going to be her husband and they were going to subvert every expectation she’d grown up with, then Elain wanted to be his equal. Not a doll too precious to mar, or glass that might break, but the person worthy of his devotion.

Carding her fingers through his hair, Elain relaxed for the brief moment before he took that first taste. The moment she felt the softness of his tongue against her cunt, Elain jerked upward, gasping so loud it was almost a scream. Lucien merely pushed her back down, one hand flat against her stomach as the other curled around her hips to draw her closer.

“Just like that,” he whispered, pressing a rather filthy kiss between her legs. Elain thought she’d beg if he stopped, which was lucky given Lucien didn’t seem capable. In fact, the way his mouth had begun moving against her suggested this was a deeply selfish act masquerading as something selfish. Elain had begun to build beneath his skilled tongue—she was going to break apart around him, which was clearly what he wanted. And yet from the way he held her and how his own body was rubbing against the bed, she suspected this was also deeply gratifying for him.

She liked knowing that. Elain let go of all her proprietary and gave in to that same desperate need. It was exciting, her legs wrapped around his face, to grind herself against him in bid to chase that delicious friction. Bossy, too, to try and demand he move to please her rather than remaining still and quiet so he might be pleased instead. Lucien groaned, doing as she wanted with no complaint. Elain had a million questions for him—what did he like so much about this act? It had been suggested men cared only for chasing their own pleasure.

Perhaps he was, then, and she’d just misunderstood what people meant when they said that. It didn’t matter, in the end, because whatever notions she’d had were gone now. Lucien had replaced every fanciful daydream, every hope, every dream. And that was fine because none of it compared to this man—Elain was willing to trade it all to keep him.

“Lucien, please,” she panted, tugging at his hair. Her body was half lifted from the soft mattress, his strong arm wrapped around her. Elain was so close, was practically on fire, burning from the inside out. “Lucien, I—”

He gave her no reprieve, no rest. His tongue worked her frantically, though it was that one, clever finger that slid into her body and curled just inside her body that sent her fracturing over the edge. Elain couldn’t breathe, could barely be contained by her own skin. He didn’t stop, riding her through wave after wave of brightly burning pleasure. Elain babbled, begging and repeating his name until she had to kick at his shoulder to pry him off her.

With shining lips and tangled hair, Lucien looked down at her with the sort of reverence reserved only for worshiping the gods. And when he spoke her name, Elain thought it sounded like a prayer.

A song.

“My Elain.”

“Come here,” she whispered, glad to kiss him again, even if all she could taste was her own wet arousal on his tongue. Lucien adjusted himself, slotting the rigid, thick length of his cock just at her opening. He wasn’t going to hurt her—Elain knew that like she knew her own name. And still she braced herself for it, tensing her body as he slid that first inch into her.

Lucien exhaled a shaking breath. “Elain,” he whispered, like it was the only word he knew. It was a tight fit, and not painful. Even when he moved again, and again, again.

Over and over, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside her. Lucien looked wild, breathing hard through his mouth. His muscled shoulders rose and fell with each new breath, though he remained utterly still while Elain squeezed around him, adjusting to the new fullness that had invaded her body.

It wasn’t pain, and after a moment of breathing through her nose, it had begun to shift distinctly into pleasure. Experimentally, she lifted her hips just to see. Lucien moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“Is this what you want?” she asked, squeezing tight around his shaft as she repeated the motion.

Lucien lowered himself, chest to chest, so he could kiss her. “You’re what I want,” he said, the foolish romantic. It was his turn to move, withdrawing only to push back in. Elain arched without meaning to, earning a sucking kiss against her neck.

Digging her nails against his chest, Elain rose to meet Lucien with each new thrust, until the pair had fallen into an instinctual rhythm. Gone were her worries she would be bad at this—she could hear his soft moans, his breathless whimpers, given his mouth was pressed right against her ear.

“Lucien,” she whispered, trying so hard to stave off the release rebuilding low in her stomach. She wanted him to slow down, but Lucien understood that pleading note in her voice.

Pushing himself up on his hands, Lucien’s speed increased until Elain was breathless. It was all she could do to grip his arms, holding him for what felt like dear life.

“Come for me, princess,” he grunted, a sheen of sweat misting his forehead. “Let me feel you.”

Elain was so close, practically hanging off the edge. Lucien lowered his mouth, nipping at her sensitive ear. “Let me feel my wife.” It might have been embarrassing, the half scream, half whimpering moan that ripped out of her. Elain’s body was not her own anymore, governed by desperation rather than careful control. She didn’t care, legs wrapped tight around his waist to hold him inside her. Elain barely noticed Lucien’s own loss, his body jerking as he, too, came. For a moment, the only sound was their combined breathing and pounding hearts.

He smiled. Big and unrestrained, and so bright she nearly had to shield her eyes. The huntsman, once sent to carve out her heart, held it in his hands all the same. Did he even realize it? The absurdity of their situation—two people who ought to hate each other, now sharing a body.

Sharing a soul.

Elain kissed his cheek. “I love you,” she said. Lucien’s smile softened.

“I’d do anything for you, Elain. Do you know that?”

Tucking a piece of hair behind his ear, Elain nodded. “I do.”

LUCIEN:

He should have left at sunup. He needed to be at the palace with the deer carcasses he’d caught the day before. He’d hunted extra, drying meat for the journey he and Elain were about to undertake, and he also needed to keep up appearances right up until the very last moment. That might have been possible had he held off on sleeping with his soon-to-be wife.

She’d wanted him, and Lucien had no ability to resist giving her whatever she asked for. Especially if what she wanted happened to be connected to his body, and doubly so when it was the thing he spent all his time fantasizing about, anyway. Case and point—Lucien had Elain on her knees, her face buried in a pillow. Thick, golden curls spilled over her bare shoulders, practically begging him to wrap it around his fist. Lucien would, one day, when she was better adjusted.

Given she’d only just started having sex with him, Lucien was trying to temper the worst of his urges. He’d offered to bring in some freshly fallen snow, wrap it in a cloth, and hold it between her legs which was how they’d ended up here, anyway. Elain’s eyes had welled up with tears as she’d kissed him, breathlessly insisting he was far too kind, and the next thing Lucien knew he was putting her on her hands and knees while he gripped her hips and slid himself back inside her.

He didn’t want to leave. Lucien was certain he belonged firmly at her side, and leaving during the day and hoping nothing happened to her was starting to kill him a little. Elain didn’t realize he was dragging this out, both because the heat of her body clamped around him made him both stupid and crazy, but because the moment he was done, he’d have to put his clothes back on and leave her.

But Lucien was already too close, and Elain had come twice already. He could see the sweat sliding down her spine, could feel the pulsating rhythm of her cunt tight around him. Her release pooled along his balls, dripping to the sheets just below. The sight was too much, coupled with Elain panting his name.

Lucien groaned, spilling into her without a thought other than he needed to immediately have her again.

And again.

She was going to be his wife just as soon as he could drag the local priestess from the village to the cottage. And then….and then. And then what, exactly? He’d tell her the truth about him? That she thought she was defying fate by marrying a lowly huntsman when, in fact, she’d traded one prince for another? A prince without a crown, a kingdom, or a home? What good was he to her if he couldn’t call upon his father for aid to even give Elain back her own crown?

It didn’t help that his letter to Eris had so far gone unanswered. He knew his brother must have received it by then—likely tossed it in the fire with a roll of his eyes. All Lucien had were the friends he’d made as a huntsman, and the skills readily available to him. And while he would have liked to tell Elain he was actually a prince and his kingdom was coming to aid her so she might sit on the throne until Nesta returned, Lucien knew that wasn’t going to happen.

And he needed to get her out of this place before Amarantha truly learned the heart she kept on her desk belonged to an animal. It was that thought that convinced Lucien to pull himself regretfully out of her body. The sight of his come spilling down her thighs nearly undid him—and the urge to use his thumb to push it back into her still fluttering cunt was impossible to resist.

“Careful,” Elain murmured, flipping to her back with a satisfied smile. She was so absurdly beautiful, so lovely it made his chest ache. “That’s how you end up with a child.”

“I could only dream,” Lucien replied, leaning over her to kiss her forehead. “Maybe prop your legs up, just to be safe.”

“Are you trying to trap me?” she laughed, watching as he slid off the bed for his pants.

“That’s what the engagement ring was for.”

Elain’s smile dimmed as Lucien began lacing his trousers. “How long will you be gone?”

“Just long enough to visit the palace,” he promised, hating the hope that flooded her gaze. He knew she wanted to go back—that she wanted him to return and tell her it was safe for her to return. As long Amarantha lived, Elain would never be safe.

Lucien wasn’t convinced Amarantha was someone they could kill. Not between the two of them, at any rate. Maybe, if he could track down Nesta, she could rally the neighboring kingdoms into helping. He didn’t know much about the princess other than what he’d seen, but something told him Eris would find Nesta a lot more compelling.

“Will you check on my father? And…and see if there is any news of Nesta?”

Lucien bowed, snatching up his shirt as he did so. “Anything for you, my lady.”

Elain’s teeth worried at her bottom lip while she watched, dressing herself and trailing after him to the kitchen where she fussed until he finally shoved some stale bread into his mouth. He’d forgotten she’d made dinner the previous night, only for them to abandon it in favor of each other. Lucien’s stomach rebelled, his heart urging him to stay and help her clean up…and maybe eat something else before he went. He’d never leave, and tomorrow when he showed up, someone would want to know why he was late.

Better not to give them any reason to look his way at all. Lucien forced himself to give Elain only the chastest of kisses before stepping into the cold.

“Come back to me,” Elain murmured, her breath curling around her face like shadows. Lucien waved, not daring to turn and look again. He was already struggling to leave her—hearing those soft words, like she didn’t expect him to come back, was enough to break him. He’d be back, he reminded himself. There was nothing that could keep her from him.

Not even death.

Lucien gathered his animals and began the cold, miserable trudge back to the castle. As he walked, he replayed his evening with Elain in the back of his mind. It helped with the cold, and the still falling snow making a mockery of his hair and cloak. By the time Lucien made his way out of the forest, his tracks had been concealed and no one knew where he’d come from.

Though it was forbidden for most to cut through the woods the way he was allowed. Half his job—one he’d been doing badly ever since Elain came crashing into his life—was keeping would be trespassers out.

Black guards stood on either side of the entrance, a new feature to the servants doors. The once bustling halls were sparse and shockingly silent. The scent of blood permeated the air which was never a good sign. Lucien dropped his animals off, too curious not to investigate. Every day was some new horror, he bet. It wouldn’t have surprised Lucien to learn the servants had fled, looking for safer work.

“Lucien,” Vassa hissed, her cerulean eyes wide with surprise. “Prince, what are you—”

Lucien blinked, trying to make sense of Vassa’s sudden slack expression of the ashen look of horror against her usually lively face. He also couldn’t make sense of his own inability to speak, or the blackness dotting his vision. Lucien lurched forward a step, trying to keep the world steady.

But it toppled, and so did he.

Right into darkness.

Lucien woke to a throbbing headache and a dry mouth. His first, terrible thought, was of Elain—she’d asked him to come back, but he was…where was he? Head spinning, Lucien sat up to find Vassa sitting against a cool stone wall. Her once beautiful amethyst dress was filthy, her bouncy curls lifeless around her pretty face.

“You’re alive,” she said dryly, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. “I was starting to think you’d die.”

“Where are we?”

Vassa gestured around them, opening and closing her mouth as though it was too painful to speak. Lucien should have known, judging from the bars on the window just overhead and the dark stone that surrounded them, though it was the bolted, iron door that betrayed the dungeons for what they were. He understood why he was here. Amarantha had figured him out, which meant she knew Elain was alive. But Vassa… “Why are you down here?”

“I’m sure her soldiers are sweeping into my kingdom as we speak. I’ve been accused of treason against the crown. Some trumped up, made up charges. This was never about diplomacy.”

The bitter note to Vassa’s voice settled in his chest. When he didn’t speak, she said, “What about you, prince?”

“I did commit treason,” he said without an ounce of regret. Elain was well-hidden. Amarantha wouldn’t find her, and even if she did, Lucien trusted Jurian would intervene before any harm could come to Elain.

“I don’t suppose one of your brothers might intercede on your behalf?” Vassa asked, drawing her knees up to her chin. Lucien scoffed.

“One less contender for the throne.”

“Then we’re on our own,” Vassa whispered, her jaw set with determination. Lucien might have asked what she was planning had the sound of heels clicking against stone not echoed around them. Amarantha was coming, likely to gloat.

Or to kill them. That was a very real possibility, too. Lucien forced himself to his feet, grateful the queen wouldn’t see how he slumped against the wall, head swimming from the blow he’d sustained. It was a problem for another time, because by the time the key slid into the lock, Lucien was fully righted and well aware of the large hunting knife still hidden in his boot. Let that stay a secret as long as he could keep it—he had a feeling he’d need it soon. Vassa remained on the floor, glassy eyed and unwilling to engage in the same posturing Lucien was. Not that it mattered. Amarantha swanned into the dingy, filthy cell like she owned it, too.

Draped in all black, what else was new. Lucien was only barely paying attention because there, hanging from the crook of her arm, was an all-too familiar basket piled with the reddest apples he’d ever seen. Lucien’s stomach lurched. He knew that red and white checkered blanket.

“Oh, good,” Amarantha said with a too sharp smile. “We don’t have to play games. I was worried you’d keep up the pretenses and thats so boring, huntsman. Do you remember the job I gave you?”

“You’ve given me a lot of jobs,” Lucien replied flatly, though his heart was pounding in his throat. He’d seen that basket on Elain’s kitchen counter more often than he could count. And though the only apple orchard he’d ever seen belonged to the king, he’d never once questioned how Elain always had fresh fruit.

He’d just assumed it was Jurian. Gods, but he’d never once questioned anything, so caught up in falling in love that he’d forgotten to be careful.

“This job was special. All you had to do was cut out the heart of one inconsequential girl. A girl who, to my understanding, is so pathetically inept she couldn’t have hurt you even if she’d wanted to. You told me she did. Do you want to know how I knew you’re a liar?”

Lucien kept his mouth resolutely shut. Amarantha didn’t seem to care, one hand wrapped around the pale skin of her elegant throat. She seemed different, somehow. Younger…and yet, not beautiful. Not the way she craved, anyway.

“When I ate it, it made me sick,” she spat, eyes glittering like coal. “How pathetic you are, oh handsome prince of Avalon. You could have had safety from your family. You could have had a long life, and you threw it away for what? A quick lay with a woman who never could have loved you? You should have seen the way she cried when she learned what a liar you are. How she cursed your name…right until the bitter, bloody end. How's that for love, prince? You get to languish in this cell until your father comes to claim you knowing your pretty princess cursed your name with her last, dying breath.”

Vassa cleared her throat, eyes wide. Whatever spell Amarantha had woven around him—the sort that forced him to see her words so clearly—shattered. Elain wouldn’t. Elain wouldn’t.

“You didn’t kill her,” Vassa whispered, her skirts rustling softly. “Just like you haven’t killed us.”

“You have use to me,” Amarantha snapped, blood red lips curling over her teeth. “She is nothing. Worthless. A pretty trinket—”

“Her fathers favorite child,” Vassa interrupted, still quiet. “And the only thing keeping him under that spell. If you kill her, his grief will shatter it.”

“He’ll never know!” Amarantha’s voice was rising with hatred, her panic betraying her. Lucien’s knees, once in danger of giving way, held firm. Elain wasn’t dead. Alive, somehow—though Lucien knew whatever Amarantha had done to her was likely to hurt her. But alive, and if Elain was alive, he could get to her.

“He will, and you know he will,” Vassa murmured, holding Amarantha’s gaze with the same spell-like quality Amarantha had woven over Lucien. “Just like he knows Elain isn’t married to a stable hand, and just like he knows something is wrong with Nesta and Feyre. You can’t kill them…so why are you here? To gloat? When you haven’t even won?”

“We’ll see,” Amarantha snapped, staggering back a step. Lucien had never seen her so shaken. She reached for the handle behind her, dropping an apple on the ground. The fruit bounced, settling around Vassa’s legs. “The truth remains that Elain Archeron is no more and you will return to Avalon, disgraced and in chains. And you will rot here until I no longer have use of you. There is no saving any of you. The Archeron family is over.”

And with that, she slammed the door behind her. Lucien waited for the sound of the key in the lock that never came, holding his breath while he waited for Amarantha to realize her mistake. Vassa, too, waited wide-eyed with fear, neither of them breathing.

They weren’t given long to wait. Lucien had just about convinced himself to surge for the door, unsure what he’d do once he got into the hall. Kill the black guards before they could kill him and…and find Elain. Get on his knees and apologize and hope Amarantha had been lying about that, too.

New, heavier steps began to echo down the halls. Boots, Lucien thought, and the heavy footfalls of someone who was armed. Vassa’s hope quickly shuttered into fear, causing Lucien to step in front of her, one arm thrown out.

“Lucien,” Vassa whispered as the steps came closer.

He took a breath, waiting for the door to push open.

Firelight gilded off a familiar sight. Auburn hair, pushed off a cruel, classically handsome face. A calloused hand rested on the hilt of a sword hanging from the hip of Lucien’s eldest brother. Eris Vanserra stood in that dungeon, chin raised, amber eyes burning with what could only be described as cool amusement.

“What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, little brother?”

#elucien #ignoring the bullshit by posting more writing #also would i put all my plot in one chapter??#yes yes i would

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aurora-313 · 3 months ago

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Hello!

First I would like to say that I just got caught up with your story Black and Blue and I really love your writing. To be honest I never really gave too much thought to Kaien Shiba’s character at first (my favorite Shiba was always Kuukaku👀)but this story made me think how cool it would be if Ichigo knew earlier about his Shiba roots earlier on. I think he found out eventually in the novels but I wish we got more Shiba family moments in the manga, it would make Ichigo a less lonely character and would overall better his mental state throughout the manga.

I just wanted to point out a few aspects of the story I really appreciate:

1.) Lisa is my favorite Vizard after Shinji (I started loving her cause of her zanpakuto release against Harribel) and I really love the natural companionship between her and Kaien. It’s not a ship I ever thought of but the way you write it makes me like it. I kinda just love older Bleach ships like GinRan and UraYoru.

2.) I really like the characterization of Shinji. I have seen it in a few fics where they say Shinji is older than all of the Vizards and some go as far as saying Shinji is in Shunsui, Ukitake and Unohana’s age range. We don’t know Shinji’s canon age but I love the headcanon that Shinji is a part of the older generation of Soul Reapers. So the part where Kaien said Shinji is a few hundred years older made me happy. (I kinda just love characters that act like idiots but deep down they’re serious people)

3.) I also really like the Ichigo and Kaien bond in this fic a lot. The adults Ichigo surrounds himself with mostly see him as a tool to fix Soul Society’s issues (his father included) so I really like that we have a reliable adult that Ichigo can be vulnerable with and lean on. In canon the only adult that Ichigo has that type of bond with is Ikumi (love her!) but she’s not spiritually aware. So it’s nice to see an adult who knows the whole situation being reliable.

4.) I also like the conversation between Urahara, Isshin and Ichigo in Chapter 36. I love Bleach and truly appreciate all of the arcs BUT I firmly believe Bleach would be so much shorter if Isshin was just freaking honest from the start. I actually really like Isshin’s character but if I looked at this from Ichigo’s perspective I would feel so betrayed and IMMENSELY annoyed. So seeing Ichigo tell him off was kind of satisfying. I also really like how Urahara handled the conversation. (Though to be honest good freaking luck to him figuring out how to fight Aizen without Mugetsu cause damn… only Ichigo can match his spirit energy😭😭)

And lastly I have a question I am very curious about. Do you hate Old Man Zangetsu? I noticed the way True Zangetsu was talking about him was really harsh so I was just wondering about that. Personally I love Old Man Zangetsu but I know this early on he is probably mostly Yhwach

SORRY FOR THE LONG COMMENT!!! I just had a lot of thinky thoughts while reading this story and makes me wonder for what’s in the future cause if Ichigo is accepting himself faster how would that factor into Orihime’s kidnapping, HM arc and future confrontations with Aizen (favorite character in all of Bleach😔✊)

Anyways thank you for the amazing story!!!!

Hi friend! Sorry it took me so long to respond to your comment! Real life's been kicking my butt lately. You know how it is.

I love Kaien as a character. I'm pretty sure I've driven a few people on discord mad with how many ideas, concepts and story beats I've come up for my favourite trident wielding dumbass. Heh.

Funnily enough, the idea of shipping those two together came later in the story, around about chapter 10 or so. It was a whim that I decided to give it serious consideration. And why not? There's nothing wrong with two lonely adults, who suffered through comparable traumas, wanting someone to warm their bed at night. They just click. (But god help them if the DADs cough Ukitake and Kyoraku find out.)

Shinji is a bit of an odd ball to write for me. I tend to think he's not quite as old as Ukitake or Kyoraku (definitely not as old as Yamamoto or Unohana), he's the generation after them. I place Kensei and Love in roughly the same age bracket too.

You bet your ass Kaien wouldn't put up with any of the 'ignorance is bliss' crap Kisuke, Urahara or even Isshin peddle on a good day. And he obviously doesn't. The problem, rightly pointed out by characters and readers alike, Kaien can be stubbornly self-righteous. A trait sadly magnified in the worst possible ways after his death and resurrection (I've alluded to it, but this event horribly messed him up). Hence their current mess of Ichigo being furious with Kisuke and Isshin's crap.

That part will be rewritten, I'm thoroughly aware I gave Isshin an unfair showing but the nucleus of the confrontation will remain the same. Bleach would be much shorter, yeah, but at the same time, there can be some arguments that Isshin had his reasons for him keeping secrets. The thing is we're not privy to those because, really, they boil down to thin justifications for plot convivence: "Oh, by the way your mother died because of some obscure prophesy that's never been so much as alluded to in the previous 450+ chapters. So the 9 plus years you spent grieving, blaming and torturing yourself were basically for our (Kisuke and Isshin's) scheme to turn you into a perfect martyr. By the way, you can't actually do anything to bring us to justice because you need to fight this war and all of reality will be destroyed if you don't." "... ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!"

I don't hate the Old Man so much as I hate what he represents. The amount of backflipping, backwards writing, retconning and garbage to justify TYBW arc's existence is cheap and show 'Oh no, this story's actually been super connected all along!' is frankly premium grade crap.

More than that, the "justification" for sabotaging Ichigo makes no sense. He wants to "protect" Ichigo, yet according to the TYBW, he's spent the entire story consciously truncating and stagnating Ichigo's growth, pitting him against his own soul; relenting bits and drabs to ensure his own survival, only releasing control completely when his own annihilation is on the table.

Instead of the much more reasonable explanation of Zangetsu deciding that the best way to reach Ichigo is to give him what he subconsciously wants; a sagely parental figure who takes the time to teach, guide and support him. The things Isshin specifically isn't. Because lets face it, on every level conceivable level Isshin fails as a parent.

Instead of being a subconscious commentary on how Ichigo views his family life, its some grade-A nonsense to give Ichigo an excuse to receive yet another power-up that ultimately amounts to nothing beyond giving him some contrived connection to the villain.

Hey Kubo? Did you forget you already DID that with Aizen? And people say he doesn't recycle plot beats.

So, uh. Yeah. That's my rant for the Saturday.

I don't mind the long comments. I like the thinky-think thoughts. :D And I'm glad you look forward to what I plan in the future. I'm admittedly in a bit of a rut until I get that confrontation re-written so right now I've been focused on my reincarnation AU.

That one's delicious angst for another reason. The twins have been taught their Quincy craft when they were young, hidden away from Isshin, and now they're suffering the consequences. THE SECRETS ARE TEARING THE FAMILY APART!

#bleach au #bleach #my writing #kaien shiba #ichigo kurosaki

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