#I had to pull Shining on the Thorns banner

[sjsmith56]

Radio Silence - Chapter 25, Lord Buchanan

Summary: Months of progress buoy everyone’s spirits. When Bruce gets frustrated over something and wakes up as the Giant, he loses hope.

Length: 4.5 K

Characters: Lord and Lady Buchanan, Queen Jane, Bruce Banner, King Steven, the Sorceress.

Warnings: Bruce feeling like a failure, his friends worrying about him.

Author notes: Image of Bucky Barnes as Lord Buchanan is by Instagram artist Nixakimbo.

<<Chapter 24

📡 😞

In the time since Buchanan's and Ileana's daughter's birth and his father's passing much had happened in the kingdom.  Just two weeks after the birth of Livia, Lord and Lady Falcon welcomed their son James Steven Wilson.  Dark skinned like his father, as he grew his eyes changed to a light hazel with green accents like his mother.  The look was striking in a pleasing way. 

Buchanan and Ileana had both become engaged with saving the collection of books found in the remains of the building hidden in the ravine.  The Sorceress put an enchantment on it that only required a password to be spoken which would allow them entry into the space.  "Luceat lux" which translated to "Shine a light" was shared with a limited group of people, including Bruce, Lord and Lady Stark, William Harley, the King and Queen, King Thorn, Queen Jane, Lord and Lady Falcon, Baroness Romanoff and Silas Brenson, who despite his own self deprecation of his intellectual abilities had been shown to have as quick a mind as William Harley. 

Bruce took Ileana's suggestions to heart and removed the library computers to a place in Buchanan's castle that had been set up with power generated by the sun or wind as needed.  With the library's programming resources which surprisingly included many with the CD-ROMs still inside the resources he was able to reformat them and load software which they could use for scientific purposes, although they were unable to set up a network that connected the computers.  Lord Stark, William Harley, Silas Brenson, and Lord and Lady Falcon proved to be quick studies in programming, grasping the basic concepts quickly and proving themselves capable of reformatting the computers and creating additional programs.  Together with Queen Jane and Lady Buchanan, Bruce created a program that could run the calculations he had been working by hand.  Using the CD-ROM drives, and a number of rewritable CD-ROMs that were found in a library back room, he was able to make copies of the program for all of the computers.

Regular trips were taken to the Library to pull out resources that would be of greatest use to the most people.  On this particular day Buchanan, Erasmus and the Sorceress searched out resources in the Religion section that would help bolster the acceptance of technology by the masses.  Erasmus was almost overwhelmed by the number of different religions there had been in ancient times.  Some were puzzling to him but others held wisdom that made him wonder why the Church had suppressed the knowledge of them in the years since the calamity.

"It seems the Church was more intent on being the only place of worship to the people," he said.  "They controlled so much and regarded others with different beliefs as heretical and dangerous.  Lord Buchanan, you went to the Holy Land, saw and fought the supposed infidels.  Were their ideas truly that dangerous?"

"Truthfully, no," said Buchanan.  "They just refused to submit to the will of the Church.  Perhaps that's why the Church went to war with them.  I lost my will to fight the others for it seemed they just wanted to live peacefully by their beliefs, not the Church's.  I am still a believer but these past years have shown me that the Church doesn't hold the patent for living the righteous path.  It lives within the person."

"Well said," replied Erasmus.  "You would make a good priest in the new Church.  Too bad you married and had a child."

"Why should that stop anyone?" asked Buchanan. 

The Sorceress smiled and looked at her cousin.  "We have had this discussion many times," she said.  "Perhaps enlightenment should be offered to everyone who asks for it, not just unmarried men."

Erasmus bowed his head in deference to both the Sorceress and Buchanan and they continued looking for books.   Elsewhere Ileana had directed several others deeper into the Library, each with a battery torch.  She gave them the numbers that she recalled from memory on engineering, mentioning the types of that applied science, including hydraulic, electrical, magnetic, communications, radio and lighting.  One of her group found books on heating, propulsion and tools so they packed them as well.  Together they hauled them out and strapped them into great leather satchels carried by pack horses.  Outside, at the top of the ravine Ileana waited with Livia keeping her close for feedings.  Seeing where the sun was located Ileana reminded Rhodes to advise Lord Buchanan it was time to leave before sunset overtook them on the trip back.  Within a half hour they were on their way back, Livia in a carrier fastened to her mother's front that allowed her to feed her on horseback, if necessary. 

As they rode back, Buchanan kept riding close to see his daughter.  Livia had thrived since her premature birth and was very much loved and cherished by her parents.   Although she had his eyes and hair, her face was very much like her mother's.  Her alert curiosity took in everything on the rides to and from the ravine and as she grew older she would point at things in the trees with delight.

On one of his trips to the library Buchanan ventured deep into the structure, finding a section for children.  He pulled books and toys out then brought them to Ileana whose face lit up at the items.  Many of the books were ones she remembered from her own childhood.  Together they often read them to their daughter.  When Buchanan mentioned it to the King and to Lord Falcon they asked for some of the items themselves.  The toys especially, were admired and the King found a woodworker who could recreate them for distribution throughout the kingdom. 

Meanwhile Bruce and the other modern worlders, as they came to be called, continued searching out people with quick minds and teaching them about the technology of their ancestors.  Using materials readily available, they attempted to recreate the building of certain things that could benefit society as a whole.   Although the dissidents still grumbled about the invasion of modern technology in their quiet lives there were no more incidents of sabotage at the missile silo.    An incident in a large village in the Ancient Mountains brought the advantages of using modern technology to the attention of many after a small child fell into a deep well.  Using one of the battery lights attached to his head, Silas Brenson strapped on a harness copied from illustrations found in a mountain climbing book to rappel down, pluck the child from the icy water then climb back up.  In front of the whole village he emerged from the well with the child secured to him, taking less than an hour from the time he entered.  The child was hypothermic but using the treatment for hypothermia from a first aid book, the village healer was able to bring him around fairly quickly with no ill effects.  Both Silas and the healer gave credit to the knowledge from the books for the successful rescue.  The question was soon raised as to why a village could not have a small library of their own to share resources with those who lived in the surrounding area.

Baroness Romanoff, herself eight months pregnant wrote a moving letter to the King about the rescue of the child and how it helped turn the tide of opinion on the modern books.  She formally requested the King look to build a number of small libraries in larger villages and create their own library system where the books would be available to all, not just the nobles.  With the open support of the modern worlders a plan was drawn up to divide the books as equitably as possible and distribute them to the larger villages once a suitable building had been erected and shelves installed that could hold the books.   Stone cutters, masons and wood workers welcomed the opportunity to build the structures and with the addition of solar and wind power installations to power the buildings the potential to be open in the evenings intrigued many. 

Perhaps the biggest accomplishment of all was the successful building of a pair of radios by Lord Stark and William Harley.  Although rudimentary in appearance both could send and receive voice messages.  Initially their conversations were limited to Lord Stark's castle but when he read about transmission towers he directed his workers to build a tower a mile away and sent a message to Harley, who had wired the radio to the tower.  At first they heard nothing.  With some suggestions from Bruce Banner, a metal worker was conscripted to fashion two large metal saucer shaped discs that were fastened to the tower and to the side of Lord Stark's castle.  Once wires connected the discs to the radios they tried again and for the first time since the first asteroid destroyed much of the civilization of their world two men conversed over the air. 

By the time Prince Joseph turned one year of age most of the Lords and Baronesses had their own radio network over their estates.  It was used to share news from the King, for pronouncements of events, and even warnings of severe weather.  Meanwhile work continued on determining how to reprogram the missiles to target the asteroid which had now been identified and confirmed as the one that would cross paths with the world at a point in the coming years.  The three silos were connected to the radio network, using the equipment onsite, and with their modern technology had greater range than the rudimentary ones. 

Bruce and Queen Jane found a ham radio in a storage room in the silo whose missile had been launched.  On a whim, they set it up, connected it to the local radio tower and tuned it to 145.80 MHz. 

"You ever used a ham radio before?" asked Bruce.  "I think we should call ourselves KBL1 for Kingdom of Broken Lands 1."

"Nope," said the Queen.  "You?"

"No," he said, opening a library book on ham radio etiquette.  "Here goes.  CQ CQ CQ this is KBL1 calling CQ CQ CQ."

He repeated it several times but there was no response.  Just radio silence.  He looked at Jane.

"If there is anyone out there they could be on a break," he said.  "Why don't we try every fifteen minutes for the day and if we hear nothing then we know we're on our own."

She nodded and both returned to using the computers at the silo to run calculations.  Every fifteen minutes one or the other would call out to the silence, hoping to get a response.  But there was nothing for the entire day.

"We should go into the evening," said Bruce.  "Some operators only do it in the evening because the atmospheric conditions are better."

"I have to go," she said apologetically.  "I promised Lord Stark I would come to his lab and I'll get there after dark as it is.  You staying?"

"Yeah, I'm staying," said Bruce.  "I brought some food.  I can sleep in one of the cots of the quarters.  You'll be okay on your own?"

"I think Thorn has left me a couple of guards to escort me," she smiled, patting her growing belly.  "Especially since I got pregnant.  Soon, I'll have to return to home to have the baby.  Can't have the heir to the throne born in another kingdom, right?"

They said their goodbyes and Bruce watched as she climbed up the ladder to the outside.  She shouted and waved from the top that she and her escort would be leaving.  He pressed the buttons that closed the doors, locking himself into the silo.  Silently he ate his rations that he brought with him, then he tried calling out on the ham radio again, repeating it for several minutes before stopping.   Every hour he woke up trying for ten minutes at a time and every hour there was no response.  Just before morning he stopped, disconnected everything and put it all back into the storage room.  They were truly on their own. 

He searched out the cot and stretched out on it after he turned off the lights.  It was pitch dark inside and quiet.  As tired as he was he couldn't sleep and he tossed and turned until finally he slept a dreamless sleep.   When he awakened he was on the floor, the cot having broken underneath him. 

"Wonderful," he said to himself as he got up off the floor in the dark.

Reaching for the light switch he was startled to see the green skin of the Hulk once again covering him.  He ran to a bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror.  The spell that the Sorceress had laid on him the previous year was broken, returning him to his in-between state.  His clothes, now in tatters, were barely enough to cover him and he groaned in agony at being once again caught in this too big body with its bad temper and excess strength.  Carefully he climbed the ladder to the outside, pressing the button that would allow the doors to open.  There was no one there in the pre-dawn stillness and he looked around before pressing the outside control to close the silo.

"I'm going to miss this," he said to the sky, then started running towards the ravine, back to his hut, back to his self-imposed exile.

An hour later, after the sun had risen Lord Falcon approached the silo after being informed by Queen Jane the previous night that Bruce intended to stay the night to try and make contact with the stronger radio.  When he opened the silo doors he was puzzled that the lights were still on in the stairwell and went down the ladder to the level where he could turn the power on for the rest of the structure.

"Bruce?" he yelled.  "Dr. Banner?  Are you here?"

He went into the living quarters area, seeing the destroyed remains of the cot.  He picked up the pieces thinking at first that Bruce had tried to defend himself but realized the destruction was from the weight of too heavy a body sleeping on the cart.  Noticing the several pieces of torn cloth that he recognized as clothing worn by Bruce, he deduced what likely happened.  Returning to the main control room he sat in front of the radio connected to the network and turned it on, tuning it to Lord Buchanan's receiver.

"This is Silo 2 contacting Lord Buchanan, over," he said, then repeated it.

"Go ahead Silo 2, Buchanan here," came his voice.

"Buck, we have a problem," said Falcon.  "Bruce has turned back into the Giant.  He's gone from Silo 2.  He was staying all night trying to get a ham radio to work.  His cot is in pieces and there are the remains of his clothes on the floor.  Over."

"Damn," said Buchanan.  "He was worried that he was spreading himself too thin and this would happen.  I'm hoping he returned to his hut.  I'll take a trip out there with a change of clothes.  Can you contact the Sorceress?  Perhaps she can put a new spell on him.  Over."

"Alright, I will," said Sam.  "This couldn't have happened at a worse time.  Queen Jane plans to return to the Kingdom of the Green Lands to prepare for her baby.  Those two handled the lion's share of the science.  What will we do without them?  Over."

"I know," said Buchanan.  "Let me try to talk to him.  Over and out."

Lord Falcon retuned the radio to the King's frequency and advised him what had happened.  Like Buchanan he was concerned for Bruce and promised to contact the Sorceress immediately.  In fact, after he sought her out he asked her to come with him to the Giant's hut..

"I'm not sure I can make him human again," she said.  "Something happened in his mind that changed him back in his sleep."

"I'm not asking you to change him back," said the King.  "In fact, I think it better we get him to accept his condition.  I want you to show him, truly show him what a difference he has made to our kingdom.  We need him, Sorceress.  We need his mind and his ability to teach.  He doesn't have to be human to do that."

She nodded and prepared to leave with the King.  His garrison commander saw the King preparing his horse, immediately asking the King how many guards he wanted.

"None," he said.  "I go to comfort a friend and assure him that I accept him as he is.  Sending guards with me would go against my intent.  I won't be alone, as the Sorceress accompanies me and we will meet Lord Buchanan there.  Trust me on this, please."

Almost two hours later they met Lord Buchanan at the path that led to the Giant's hut.  He led Bruce's two cows and his bull behind them and also a pack horse with food, clothes and Bruce's work.

"I thought if we couldn't convince him to return then I should at least bring him the comforts of living," said Buchanan.  "He is in his hut.  I saw the smoke from his chimney as I approached from my estate."

Together the three rode their horses towards the stone hut.  Surprisingly Magnus did not seem bothered as they got closer and for a moment Buchanan wondered if the Sorceress had cast a spell.  She smiled and said that she hadn't, almost as if she heard his thought as if he spoke out loud.  They tied their horses up and put the cows into one paddock and the bull into another.  Buchanan knocked on the door.

"Bruce, please come out," he said.

He could hear the Giant inside, moving, and knocked again.

"Please, friend, come out and talk to us," said Buchanan.

"Who else is with you?" growled Bruce.

"Come out and see," said Buchanan when the Sorceress put her finger to her lips for him not to tell.

With a sigh Bruce got up off his chair and came to the door, opening it wide.  "Your Majesty, Sorceress," he said, surprised.  "You came to see me?"

"Of course," said King Steven.  "When I heard what happened I wanted to be here for my friend, you, so that you knew this doesn't change how we see you, the real you.  You're a teacher, and a scientist and you've made a big difference to this kingdom.  The man on the outside is different but it is the man on the inside that we care about."

He came out into the sunshine with a sigh and noticed his cows and bull in their paddock.  "Yet it looks like you're expecting me to stay here," he said bitterly.

"No," said Buchanan.  "I only brought them if you proved to be stubborn enough not to listen to friends. I even brought your great clothes and food, including coffee, if you decided not to return with us.  I didn't want you to be without some comforts."

"And you, Sorceress," said Bruce, appraisingly.  "Were you going to try again to return me to the stature of a man?"

"Only if you wanted it," she said.  "I was asked to show you how important you are to all of us.  You are, you know.  It's why this version of you was stranded here so long ago.  You make a difference Bruce.  To all of us.  May I?"

She held her hands out to him in a gesture of requesting permission to touch him.  With his consent she positioned her petite frame in front of him and lifted her hands to his temple.  Then she began showing him his own memories of his time from when he was first befriended by the elder James Barnes, to when he helped protect Buchanan's lands from the attack by Lord Pierce.  That was followed by the faces of the people who turned to him for knowledge and instruction on the vast treasure trove of science that needed to be unlocked to face the asteroid threat.  She finished with the trust Buchanan had shown him when Ileana went into labour prematurely and his assistance at Livia's birth, as well as becoming her god parent at her christening.  When she was done she stepped back.

"Have I misrepresented anything?" she asked.  "Did what I show you proceed exactly as you remember?"

He nodded.  "I'm afraid," he admitted.  "Afraid of losing my temper and lashing out with my hand and hurting someone.  I was frustrated last night.  Jane and I spent hours trying to contact someone with the ham radio and all we got was radio silence.  Surely, there should have been someone who was still on the air."

"Maybe there was hundreds of years ago," said Buchanan.  "Maybe like the crew at Silo 2 they lost hope and gave up.  We know from the Mars books that some of our people made it to that planet.  Perhaps they are there still, looking at us through their telescopes and longing for the day they can return home.  Or perhaps they also gave up and perished on that alien world."

"The important thing is we're not giving up," said the King.  "Bruce, your knowledge gives us hope.  Against all odds our ancestors survived and reverted to an ancient system of government to build again.  We are at a crossroads now as we reclaim our lost knowledge but we need a teacher to understand it all and like it or not, you're the teacher.  Don't hide in this forest as Bruce the Giant again.  Take your place in our kingdom as Dr. Bruce Banner, scientist and teacher, friend to a king, many lords, ladies, and every subject that lives here."

Bruce smiled.  "You're as good a man as your namesake in my world, Steve," he said looking the King in the eye.  "He had a way of making you feel you could do the impossible.  Alright, I'll return to Buchanan's castle, since he already has furniture built to accommodate my XXXXL size.  You do, don't you?"

Buchanan nodded with a grin.  "I can easily have more built to accommodate you," he said.  "For now, I have clothes you can change into so you look the part of honoured teacher and scientist.  Let's go home, Bruce."

Banner took the clothes and went into his hut.  He came out a short time later looking more civilized.  He closed the door and took his cows and bull out of the paddock.  Then he looked at the three of them.

"Thank you," he said.  "I was feeling very low when I got here, like I had failed everyone.  I forgot that failure is a basic part of science.  It's how we learn.  I won't forget again."

"Good," said King Steven.  "Now the Sorceress and I are going to return to the Palace.  You may be interested to know that I will be receiving a delegation from our southern neighbours tomorrow.  The same ones that joined with Prince Loke to wage war against us.  The trade of coffee for precious metals has gone well and they are looking for more trade goods, like fine woven linens, wooden toys for their children, and radios.  I'm hoping they've done some digging themselves and have found scientific installations that can help all of us when we solve our asteroid problem.  We may come out and see you in a few days.  I'll radio if we do.  Farewell good friends.  Safe trip."

He and the Sorceress mounted their horses as Buchanan did the same.  They journeyed together to the path that split.   One pair went to the ravine while the others took the path towards the estate.  Buchanan and Bruce stopped once, availing themselves of the food stuffs that were brought in the event Bruce stayed at his hut.  They sat overlooking a small pond while Magnus and the livestock grazed on the sweet grass nearby.

"Magnus doesn't seem afraid of you anymore," said Buchanan.  "I noticed it when we arrived.  At first I thought the Sorceress had done something but she said she hadn't."

"Perhaps he senses something greater," said Bruce.  "I'm no longer afraid of myself.  That's why I lived out there away from everyone.  I was afraid of losing control and hurting someone.  Living as a man the past year has been good for me.  They'll have to get used to me like this but if your great horse can anyone can."

"You know, we could breed Magnus to a large mare," said Buchanan.  "After some careful breeding we may be able to get a horse big enough to carry you.  That would be an imposing sight."

"No thank you," laughed Bruce.  "I don't really want to learn to ride at my age.  I'm too old for that."

"How old are you?" asked Buchanan. 

"In my world I was 56 when I found myself transported here," replied Bruce.  "I've been here at least 10 years easily so I guess I'm 66."

"You don't look it," declared Buchanan.  "Not even in your human state.  Perhaps your giant keeps you looking young."

After enjoying their break they began walking back to the estate and soon came to the first of many farms.  The farmers came out to their fences to greet Lord Buchanan as he passed.  They all recognized Bruce, asking if he would be looking like that from now on.  He and Buchanan took turns confirming it.  To a man the farmers just nodded their heads and turned back to their work.  When they approached the castle they looked at the north entrance then at the regular south entrance.

"I say we go in together," said Buchanan.  "If the horses react well then we know they have accepted you.  If they don't, I'll clear the north entrance for you."

Not really sure what to expect the two men entered the courtyard which had several horses being saddled.  As Magnus and Bruce's livestock walked in the other horses glanced at them and didn't react to Bruce at all.  He walked up the steps into the castle with Buchanan and turned back to look out over the courtyard.

"I guess I am home," said Bruce, with a small smile. 

The two men walked inside to get his oversized furniture out of storage and placed in the largest bedroom again.  Ileana came out of the reception hall carrying Livia, who held her arms out, not to her father, but her transformed god father who gently held her as she laughed and babbled at him.  He was home indeed.

Chapter 26>>

Series Masterlist

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #steve rogers #medieval bucky #bucky barnes au #james buchanan barnes au #bruce banner #losing hope

[leafesol]

As an avid consumer of Lore, both canon and theoretical, as well as a person who must have all the things, nothing drives me more nuts than the knowledge that most every artifact's flavor text and random encounter in Fungi Mist has worldbuilding attached to them.

The reason this is an issue is because I am small-brain and can't reliably finish a run. And the only reliable strategy I've seen so far is "Get Thorns, lol."

#arknights #lore #I had to pull Shining on the Thorns banner

[joyfulhopelox]

sweet night | kth

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (dance instructors!au, enemies to lovers)

Genre: fluff, romance

Summary: You finally address the incessant teasing of your fellow dance instructor Kim Taehyung.

Wordcount: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of self-doubt, she calls him a bully but he's not, suggestive but not really?

A/N: thank you @notyouroppar betaing my fic and letting me live to see another day <3 I don't know why Taehyung is such a difficult one for me but this one did actually come quite naturally to me! This is a drabble request (yes I am still going through them and I am so sorry for being late I really am I promise I will be quicker with them!) Drabble that is 3k long, so a fake drabble as my beta likes to call them.

Rating: pg13

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

Requests are currently closed but I would love to hear from you so please leave me a message! 💌

“That’s awful.”

Words that would haunt you forever. Words that you’d heard from more than one person; your teachers had told you that in the past, your family had too. Yet, for some reason, every time those words came to mind, they would echo in your head in a particular individual’s voice. Kim Taehyung. A fellow dance instructor and your arch nemesis.

“Shut it, no one asked you,” that would be your normal response. Your go to phrase whenever he would yell at you in the middle of practice. He would thrive off of your little squabbles, drawing attention to himself, and indulge in the pleasure of bringing you down every time that happened.

That wasn’t the case today. Today you were determined to have a good day. Ready to conquer the world. You took a few tips and tricks from internet searches on how to fend off any weeds. Because in your eyes, that’s all that Kim Taehyung would be. A thorn in your backside.

Thinking back on it, maybe you were exaggerating— most certainly you were exaggerating. He’d never done anything particularly harmful to you, or anyone else. He was just particularly good at singling you out and making a fool of you. Or rather… making you react like a fool. He would tease you until your skin was clammy, and your composure melted into a flustered mess. Sometimes, you’d have your class behind you, during your shared lessons. Everyone knew to be ready to fend you off, or pull you away, when the situation became particularly prickly.

Today, you had no one. It was a long weekend and most of your students had gone home to spend time with family. It was just youf and your trusted enemy, Taehyung.

“No one asked you to intrude on my studio time either,” he commented, putting his bag onto the floor. Not sparing you a second glance he started stretching, humming a tune that only played in his head.

You could feel the pricks of annoyance crawling up your spine. Before you could respond in kind, he indulged in a longer stretch. Arms as high as they could go, and exposing half his abdomen to you. Your mouth went dry; any thought of rebuttal wiped out.

The hoodie he had draped over him tried its best to hold on, but his height and his determination to get a good stretch in won. Trying to not ogle at him, you pretended to stretch your own calf. The sight of your own appearance made you wince. The slight sheen of sweat that covered your skin gave your body a dewy glow. You would have dared to say you were shining bright like a diamond, if not for your hair in disarray all over your forehead and the slight adrenaline filled look in your eyes.

No wonder Taehyung didn’t carry on in arguing with you. You looked as if you’d gotten into a fight and won. The pang of pride at the thought made your mouth quirk.

You could have patted yourself on the back for being so effective at ignoring him—and his half dressed state. But when a loud sound akin to a moan reached your ears, you perked up, your eyes immediately landing on him.

“What are you doing?” Prompted by his peculiar position, the words flew past your lips before you could stop them. Seated, with his legs apart, he was struggling to reach his foot, each time he got closer a lewd sound would grumble from his chest and throughout the studio. Trying to ignore the butterflies causing a ruckus in your stomach at the sound, you watched him wearily.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just imitating you,” he responded, having the audacity to dismiss you with a wave of his hand.

Staring at him with an incredulous look on your face, you decided that enough was enough. You’ve been taking this from him for a few years now, your two dance groups never had the chance to get along because their leaders never did.

“Why do you hate me so much?” you asked, deciding to not sugarcoat anything. When he paused mid stretch to glance back at you, you closed your mouth and swallowed hard. His hand momentarily hovered halfway to his foot, before he got up and stalked towards you. You felt nervous, suddenly too flustered to continue with your prepared rant.

“What?” his audacity to not only question his behaviour, but also dare to sound appalled made your blood boil.

“You heard me, why do you hate me so much?” The more you let your mind wander towards all the instances he’d made you feel unwelcome by singling you out, the more you wanted him to explain himself to you. “I’ve never done anything to bother you, so why?”

“Exactly,” he answered simply, his body mere centimetres away from yours. “Why do you keep ignoring me?” he fired back.

“Because you are loud-mouthed, uncaring, and stubborn,” you immediately responded, without a thought. “And you are pretending to be the best dance instructor out there, when we all know it is not the case.” You knew you’d aimed for the belt when his mouth twitched downwards at your comment. Feeling the familiar tendrils of guilt rush up your spine you cleared your throat. Under normal circumstances you would thrive at the thought of trumping over your squabbles, but this time you knew you’d overstepped the line. He may pick on your technique as an individual dancer, but he’d never made a move to ridicule your skill as a dance instructor.

“I-I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you mumbled, the words tasting foreign on your tongue. Taehyung was silent, watching you silently as you squirmed under his gaze and the added pressure of guilt.

“It’s part of your charm, and I accept that,” he shrugged eventually, his hand softly reaching out, intertwining his fingers through yours.

“Kim Taehyung, I’ve never seen someone as insufferable as you,” you fired back, the unfamiliar feeling of his digits threaded through yours causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You never thought you’d fight with yourself to refute the gentle way he was treating you.

“I’ve never wanted to kiss someone as insufferable as you,” Despite his words, his actions were careful and considerate. Waiting for you to make the next move, he stilled.

“Then don’t,” you took a step towards him, your eyes flickering to his lips for a brief second. “No one asked you to.” Despite your words, your whole being was very much screaming at him, loudly, to kiss the living daylights out of you. Toe to toe with him, your fingers tightened around his, before you fixated your gaze on his rosy lips.

“You said I’m stubborn,” he smiled at you, any trace of cockiness gone from his voice.

“You’re also wasting time,” you countered, breathing increasingly laboured as he bent down, shrinking the space between your faces to mere millimetres.

“My bad,” he murmured against your lips, bumping his nose to yours. As if they’d always belonged there, his hands found your cheeks easily cupping them —Softly cradling your face. Your eyelids fluttered and you fought the nervous instinct to bite your lip. Your gaze wavered, taking in his features, unable to hold his molten gaze for longer than a few moments. Instead you focused on his sharply defined brows, the high point of his nose and what you could see of it before going cross eyed. The nose that was now caressing yours lightly, as if he was treading the water, asking for permission.

“May I?” he whispered, the slight waver in his voice not escaping your notice.

The thought of his consideration towards your willingness engulfed your heart in warmth. If someone were to ask you to describe it, it would be a perfect mixture between a fuzzy blanket and the feeling of having a warm drink heat up your insides. He made you feel at home, he made you feel safe—yet you couldn’t help but tease him.

“May you what? Waste time? You could but that would technically—“ you rambled, your hands anchoring themselves in your own pockets. It was a gift when you were presenting in class, but right that moment it was you who was wasting the time.

Taehyung fought the urge to roll his eyes at you, your slightly over the top reaction simultaneously amused and exasperated hiim. Nudging your nose harder to make you stop, he carefully watched your eyes widen and your mouth slam shut.

“Y/N, do us both a favour and kindly shut up. I’d like to kiss you now,” he prompted, before he softly placed his lips on yours.

The kiss wasn’t anything you would have expected. Contrary to his dominating personality and his insufferable childishness, the kiss was anything but. Your face was gently cupped in his hands, his thumb applying light pressure onto your jaw and his lips were soft and hesitant. As if he was afraid he would break you, he moved slowly, barely coaxing your lips open with his, before you huffed out in annoyance pulling away from him.

“Kim Taehyung, is this the best you can offer me?” You pointed an accusing finger his way, trying to pretend that your head wasn’t swimming in goo. The kiss had left you breathless, but his presence around you, combined with his scent, gnawed at your lower abdomen, its tightness asking for more.

“What-?” he looked completely baffled, his eyes half lidded and his voice breathless.

Witnessing how affected he was by just that kiss, you almost let a swell of pride take over your body. However, the need to get him to give it to you was greater than your need for self satisfaction. Giving him a once over you contemplated giving away all those times you witnessed his flirting and fleeting flings at parties and after shows. You would see him from time to time attached to someone hidden in a corner, his hands somewhere on their body in a highly inappropriate way.

“I- I have seen the way you kiss,” you mumbled. With the words now out of your mouth, it made you realise how stalker-ish that sounded. Ignoring his highly amused quirk of his eyebrow you carried on. Foot in mouth may just as well own it.

“This is not it. What happened to the ‘dark corners, I’ll grab your ass as if it was the only thing anchoring me to the earth, CPR worthy kiss’ you’ve given others?” you could feel yourself getting more and more aggravated. The more you talked the more the seed of doubt planted itself in your brain. He could have been swept away in the post dance, adrenaline filled atmosphere and not entirely interested in giving you the time of the day.

Caught up in your own insecurities, you didn’t notice the slight shift in Taehyung’s expression, the quirk of his lips faltering for a moment as he looked deep in thought. He was planning to let you carry on with your ramble, to let you offload your worries and stress onto him however the route you were going was no more pulling at his heartstrings than the waver in your voice did. Seeing you carry on with your ramble, your teeth gnawing at your lip he made a quick decision.

“Y/N,” his voice spoke of no nonsense, forcing you to stop. “Focus on me.” Without allowing you a moment to redress yourself he pulled you to him, an arm wound tightly around your waist, the other gripping at the back of your neck. Roughly devouring your mouth with his, muffling any possible protest successfully, he bent you lightly at the waist when your knees buckled underneath you.

You could barely think. His warmth scattered your thoughts; his tongue slowly traced your bottom lip as his fingers dug deeper into your skull causing you to shiver. Tilting your head slightly, you pushed back against his mouth and hooked your leg around his hip, your tongue desperately searching for his.

This was the kiss you had imagined. Much like your squabbles in real life, you both fought for control. Pushing and pulling against each other, hands grabbing at any article of clothing, trying to bring each other closer. When his hand slid under your top, his heat brushing lightly against your colder back, you gave in. Loosening your hold against him, your fight diminished, until all you could feel and hear were your soft moans and rugged breaths.

The heightened feelings that invaded your heart radiated through the kiss; if you were unsure of the future, the warmth in the kiss bridged the gap, providing you a path to certainty. Sure, Taehyung was loud, rude and obnoxious. But wrapping you this tightly in his arms, whilst his lips followed the rhythm of your heart made you think otherwise. Overwhelmed with questions and emotions you broke the kiss abruptly, stumbling backwards.

“Why did I enjoy that?” you mumbled in awe. Aimed more to yourself you didn’t expect Taehyung to respond so quickly.

“Because we like each other, and as much as we fight, we also need to reconcile,” he shrugged as if he was talking about the situation.

Regaining your step you pulled away from him with a snort. “Well that was…reconciling.” Making light of a serious situation was so like him, yet, you couldn’t have appreciated him more than at that moment.

“Remind me again,” Taehyung breathed out a laugh, “why was there an argument between us?”

You were both leaning onto each other, your bodies flush, his hands holding tightly to your hips as he swayed you both back and forth to a song present, yet again, only in his head. Your eyes were closed, and your head was nestled into the crook of his neck, his scent lulling you into a daze. He smelled like a holiday, like warm fires, pinewood, and the soft scent of sweet bread. You could have fallen asleep standing, if not for the light jolt you got now and then from him shuffling his feet during your dance.

Humming as if in thought, you struggled to pull your mind together. “I don’t know, may have to do with the fact that I’m a better dancer and you are not willing to accept that,” you finally responded, your words meant to bite but the jokingly tone in your voice making it clear it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously.

“Or it could be–“ you started before you felt your world shift, your feet sweeped off the ground and your head suspended in the air. Yelping your eyes snapped open landing on his entertained ones. The slight quirk of his lips made you pout.

“I got you, don’t worry.” Even though he took you by surprise by suspending you in a dip, his warm gaze and strong grip on your waist and back of your head reassured you. He had you.

“What are you doing?” you narrowed your eyes at him, your fingers digging slightly in his biceps to persuade him to let you go.

“Proving who the better dancer is,” he smiled, the wide shape of his mouth making his whole face light up in amusement. He was taunting you, as you did him earlier, but you found it hard to care as you stared at him. His soft skin and the myrth on his face made him look younger than he was, freer. Long gone was the glowering, moody Taehyung that you remembered. There was no trace of the mockery or jabs he would throw at you in the midst of your dance competitions, all you could see in his gaze was happiness and warmth.

“You’re handsome,” you found yourself blurting out without meaning to. The carelessness and freedom with which you admitted your own feelings made you sputter. You hadn’t intended for it to come out in such a flighty way, and despite the heat that was rising under your skin crawling up your neck, you found that you didn’t care. Judging by the slight gleam in Taehyung’s eyes, neither did he.

With a quick decision to roll with the punches, you craned your neck to reach his lips. Roughly pressed together, you let a whimper escape your throat when his tongue once again coaxed your mouth open. Letting him dominate you, you allowed yourself the pleasure of tracing his shoulders with the palms of your hand, your fingers lightly tracing his collarbones through his top. Sensing the flex of his muscle under your touch, you smirked into the kiss. Venturing lower and lower, your hands mapping out the planes of his chest, your nails dragged over his nipples drawing a sharp inhale out of him. Smiling proudly to yourself you decided to focus on that area, teasing as much as you could by pinching and tracing skin and muscle. You enjoyed the guttural sounds you drew out of him for a brief moment before Taehyung pulled away from the kiss, having decided he’d had enough of your impish ways.

“How about,” he whispered darkly, his breath caressing the shell of your ear making you shudder. “I show you who the better one is?” Before you could ask or assume he meant dancing, his hand trailed lower down your lower spine, over the curvature of your ass, making purchase onto the softer flesh there. Pulling you forcefully closer to him, you wrapped your leg around his hips for better access, your core almost flush together with the obvious bulge in his trousers.

Smirking lightly, your body warming up with desire, you hooked your fingers through the loops of his belt grinding your hips against his drawing a hiss out of him.

“You can try, pretty boy, but what makes you think I’ll allow you to,” you taunted nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

Taehyung chuckled, your position making it easy for him to slide both hands under your ass and hoist you up.

“Like I said earlier, Y/N,” he warned and carried your laughing form towards the stretching benches lowering you down. Bent over you, his eyes glowering with lust, it was enough to make your laughter die in your throat and your breath hitch. Your attention flickered from his darkened eyes to his predatory smile and as he closed off the space between you, you felt the butterflies in your stomach burst into flames. Before he could make good on his promise, he added another warning.

“I’m stubborn.”

MAIN MASTERLIST

#kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts romance #taehyung fluff #taehyung romance #bts drabble #btshoneyhive #btsgoldnet #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #castlebangtan #kvanity #bangtaninn #silverspoon

[bl--ankhaeji]

Bed of Roses

Pairing~ Emperor!Taeyong x CivilianPharmacist!Reader

Genre~ fluff,, angst,, empireau

Warnings~ smut..like three different scenes,,fem!recieving oral,,handjob,,switch?Tae/Reader,,Talks of war,,mentions/slight descriptions of death,,mentions/descriptions of extreme illness,,Taeyong has PTSD and nightmares,,mentions of blood,,Taeyong has insecurites,,mentions of rotting flesh

A.N~ This is my fic for the taeyong gallery collab hosted by @alreadyblondenow   I am releasing two days later than planned I am sorry for that. This fic is based off of the painting The Kiss by Gustave Klimt. Also big thanks to my mutual/beta reader, Xiami, @kjmsupremacist​ and the mutual who made this beautiful banner for me, Mylin, @suh-insane​ This is my longest fic so far I hope you all enjoy 😊 Oh and before I forget there is a whole like sort of surgery scene in here PSA I am no doctor, I know nothing substantial about medicine or medicinal practices. I got the inspiration for that scene from a drama so...(props if you can guess which one it is)

W. Count~ 12.5k 

The screams of thousands ringing in the air is deafening. Buildings are burning to the ground from a ravenous blaze. A vibrant haze of orange and red covers every single object in sight. No matter where he looks there is someone crying; hell, even the sky seems to be crying tonight. Taeyong’s legs give out from under him, bringing the once-strong prince to his knees as his head drops, hanging lowly in shame. How had he let it get this far? What happened to his beautiful peaceful empire full of its joyous people?

War. That’s what happened. His father had gotten power hungry and bloodthirsty, a terrifying duo. He remembers sitting in the royal meetings listening to the decisions his father would make, hating every single one but not having the authority let alone the guts to stand up to him. Hurried footsteps bring the prince out of his memories as a peasant girl, barefoot and in a tattered dress, appears in front of him.

“Prince Taeyong!” she cries, tears rushing down her face as if trying to see who will beat the other to the ground first. The prince's head snaps up at her cries, looking intently at her face. Her once-beautiful features are now horribly damaged and scarred from what looks like a massive burn. The girl opens her mouth, words making their way out until they stop suddenly and are replaced with a blood-curdling scream. 

It’s then that Taeyong notices the spear cutting through her flesh, beginning to protrude through her midriff before it retrieds back through her body. The girl’s now-limp body falls in a heap in front of the prince, her blood flowing rapidly out of the deep gash. In her place stands an enemy soldier. The soldier raises his sword and the two men quickly commence into a brief battle. Taeyong quickly overtakes the soldier, tearing him down almost effortlessly. 

The tired male stands tall, chest heaving, almost completely covered in blood before he rushes back to the girl, cradling her in his arms, even though his subconscious already knows it’s too late. “M-miss, oh my god miss, p-please please wake up,” he stutters frantically, lightly tapping her face. “MEDIC!! HELP SOMEONE!” he screeches so loudly it feels as if it’s ripping his throat. 

Countless people have died in front of him this whole time. Countless bodies lay around him–men, women, and children alike. Yet he’s hellbent on trying to yell for a medic that he knows isn’t there to help this one girl. Suddenly, he sees the girl's eyes flutter open. “My prince,” her voice barely whispers, her shaking hands reaching up slowly to softly cradle the prince’s tear streaked face. Suddenly the strength returns to her body, her hands, once gentle, now harshly gripping the side’s of Taeyong's face, nails causing what feels like permanent moon shaped indentures on his face. “YOU!” she spits. 

Her eyes, once gentle and kind, tainted with fear, now hold an anger and bloodlust so intense it is almost suffocating. “You’re the reason I’m like this! You and the royal family caused this-this WAR. And for what reason, huh? Thousands of lives lost; all of my friends and family are now dead because of you. I’M EVEN DEAD NOW BECAUSE OF YOU!!” Her hands now tightly grip his neck. “If I have to die by your hands then you have to die by mine. You made this bed of thorns, now lay in it. DIE!” 

“AHHHHHH!” An ear piercing cry leaves the man's lips as he now sits up in his bed scrambling to the headboard as if trying to get away. His clothes and bedding are drenched in sweat. His personal guard, Doyoung, rushes into the room, thinking there was a possible intruder from the emperor's cries. Even though this was far from the first time the emperor was plagued by night terrors, he could never be too certain.

“Your Highness, Your Highness please. Taeyong! Snap out of it; you’ll wake the entire empire, sir please.” Doyoung pleaded with the now sobbing man. “Your Highness, it’s okay it was just a dream, none of it is real.” The guard's large hand lands on the emperor’s back as he rubs soothing circles in hopes of calming the almost hysterical man. 

The dream may not have been real but his pain was, the war was real. His sobs are deafening. 

His people, his country. He failed them; he’s still failing them.

~

The once-cowering man now stands tall with an aura of elegance and power radiating off of him. After Doyoung’s fruitless attempts at trying to talk Taeyong into getting some help for his recurring nightmares, the emperor was due down in Neo City, sometimes referred to as N-City, the capital of the Neo Empire. At least once a month Taeyong comes down from the castle placed in the heart of Neo City and walks around greeting and getting to know the citizens of the city. Taeyong has always been very passionate about knowing the people under him and knowing how they live. He never wants to be an emperor that lets his people suffer while he lives extravagantly in the castle. 

He figures that’s the least he can do after failing them once already. 

He shrugs on his royal cloak even though he and everyone else knows that it’ll come off in no time once he joins the people. Taking a seat in the carriage across from Doyoung, Taeyong is handed his crown.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuck fuck fuck. That’s all that you can think of as you race to make it on time. You’re so fucking late; how could you have let it slip your mind? The emperor always comes down around this time and you’re usually always in your spot on time, but you woke up late this morning after pulling an all-nighter preparing medicinal herbs for the elderly people down your street. 

Your rucksack flops lifelessly beside your hip as you finally come to a stop, managing to make it to the spot in the nick of time. You had to deliver the herbs this morning and it almost cost you to miss seeing the emperor. Ever since Taeyong had taken over as emperor and started making his monthly visits, you always made sure you were there to be able to see him. You had a special spot you always occupied. It was the perfect spot where you could see him but not be front and center so that he could see you. 

Indiscernible chatter and yelps of delight grow louder and more constant. The second you turn your head, an unmistakable crown floats atop the heads of an ample number of people. At that same moment you hear the emperor's joyous laugh, the beautiful sound bringing an uncontrollable smile to your lips. The crowd of people slowly thins out, finally allowing you to catch a glimpse of the handsome man, and you can’t help but to be taken aback by his beauty even though this is far from your first time seeing him. The first thing you look at are his eyes. Despite his entire demeanor radiating a bubbly happiness, you can see the truth in his eyes. 

Taking in the appearance of the royalty, you notice the dirty cuffs on his white button up that sit rolled up on his forearms. Ahhh he must’ve been helping Mr. Young plant vegetables again. Your mind conjures an image of the older male who has the gall to make even the emperor plant vegetables for him and  a small chuckle falls from your lips. Making your gaze up to his head, you take in the royal crown. You always wonder how the crown manages to stay rooted on his head despite sitting on it lopsided 90% of the time. A crooked smile that shines brighter than the sun graces the emperor's features and you suddenly feel your cheeks warm like a furnace. 

Too caught up in your trance, you don’t feel the person bump into you until you’re already on the ground. The silence that greets you rings heavy in the air and isn’t broken until you hear a gasp, while at the same time feeling warm, nimble fingers wrap around your arm, gently lifting you from the ground. “Are you okay?” an male voice rumbles, a voice you’re no stranger to, a voice you were just delighted to hear mere seconds ago. 

“I uh I-I ah-h y-y-yes-,” you stutter, struggling to form coherent words once you realize that the emperor has helped you up from the ground. 

The emperor helped you up.

The emperor has his hand wrapped around your arm.

The emperor saw your fall... Dear God THE EMPEROR SAW YOUR FALL!

“I-I uhh YES-yes, I am fine,” you rush out, keeping your head down, refusing to meet the eyes of Emperor Taeyong, terrified of the judgement that might lie in them at your embarrassing fall. You quickly release yourself of his hold, scurrying away before he or anyone else can get a glimpse of your face. With your heart pounding in your ears and tears pricking your eyes you run back to your house as fast as you can manage, cutting your time to see the emperor extremely short. Hey, at least you have more time to prepare; you’re going to make things a little bit different today. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your Highness.” Doyoung’s curt voice takes Taeyong’s attention away from the retreating back of the girl he just helped off of the ground mere seconds ago. 

“Wha-–ah yes! Let’s keep moving, shall we?”  

The sound of the horses' feet clacking against the stone ground echoes throughout the carriage. “Doyoung,” the emperor starts, looking almost wistfully out of the window. “Do you think that girl from earlier is okay?” 

“I would assume so, seeing as how she had no trouble when running away as if she had just robbed a bakery,” he replied with a slight tilt in his voice.

“She did run away quite enthusiastically, didn’t she?” Taeyong can’t help the small grin that overtook his face at the memory of the girl. It was rather funny seeing her scramble away as if she had just committed a crime. 

“Your Highness, we have arrived.” The coachman speaks from the outside of the carriage as it slows to a stop. 

Despite the limited space, Taeyong stands, shouldering the heavy royal robe. The door to the carriage is opened by one of the royal guards, who proceeds to escort Taeyong to the steps of the palace. A sound of disdain falls from the guards lips and catches Taeyong’s attention. “What seems to be the problem, might I ask?” Halting his steps, Taeyong turns towards the guard and gives him his full attention. 

Realizing the emperor heard him, the guard stiffens, stuttering over his words hurriedly, attempting to make sure the emperor didn’t misunderstand. “Ah—no, Your Highness. There is no problem; not with you, at least, it’s just there’s this girl that always comes to the palace every week, and it’s just really annoying to send her away all the time.” 

Spotting a girl making her way up the palace steps, the guard and Taeyong watch as the girl encounters her first guard, thrusting the huge bouquet into his face then bowing, appearing to say something completely inaudible from this distance. Standing straight, she looks as if she begs the guard for something, a hopeful look etched onto her face only for it to fall after the guard says something in return. Seemingly giving up, the girl turns to leave the palace, only this time she hangs her head down in sorrow. 

Gathering what could be classified as a humongous bouquet, you make your way to the palace, even though you know you’ll probably be sent away again. Having succeeded in finally getting them to at least take the bouquet, you can only hope it reaches the emperor. Usually you just give him a nice bouquet full of roses that grow right in your garden at home with a nice little card attached reminding him to eat and get enough fluids, things like that, but this time after seeing the emperor you know he needs more than just roses. You gathered up and put together a bouquet full of beautiful red roses, gladiolus colored a light pale peach, white poppies, and a bunch of basil sprinkled throughout the bouquet. 

Each flower carries a significant meaning with it that you want to give to the emperor and even if none of your other bouquets got to him, you really wish this one will. Sitting down, you prepare to write the note that you would leave this time. 

It’s me again, Your Highness. I saw you today when you went down to town, and you looked really tired despite the smile you put on your face for us. I do hope you are getting enough sleep while also keeping yourself fed and hydrated, otherwise if you get sick, who will lead us as well as you do? 

As you can see, I gave you a little something different than the usual roses. Considering that you’re a busy person, I’ll assume that you don’t know these flowers or their meanings so allow me to tell you. 

The red flowers are obviously the roses I have been giving you for the last year or so. The pink looking flowers are called Gladiolus and they symbolize strength and get their name from gladiators who fight with strength and honor. The white flowers are called White poppies; they symbolize peace and the remembrance of war. They got that meaning because they are usually the flowers that grow atop fallen soldiers' bodies after war. Finally the little green leaves sprinkled throughout the bouquet are called Basil; although usually used in food, they are also thought to bring peace while warding off negative spirits, symbolizing good wishes, wealth, and a happy home. 

Now that you know their meaning, I hope you can understand why I gifted these to you. Till next time Your Highness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing the folded piece of paper, Taeyong lets out a breath before looking at the beautiful bouquet in his hands. He was surprised that someone took so much notice and cared so greatly about him and his well-being to do something like this. With a light heart and a small flustered grin, he places the card back in the bouquet, setting the flowers in a vase atop the vanity in his room, somewhere where he is sure he will get to see the flowers everyday. 

Back to normal again this week, Your Highness. I do hope that you were able to receive last week's bouquet, but I know there’s a good chance you did not, just like you will not this week. Do not ask why I continue to deliver these bouquets even though I know that you have not gotten a single one. It is too much to explain over a single note. I hope you have eaten well and stayed hydrated throughout this week. I also hope you have been sleeping well. If not, one way I find that helps is lavender oil. You could take it orally or drink some lavender tea before bed. You could even keep lavender in your room to infuse the area with its scent. 

That’s it for this week, Your Highness. Till next time

Closing the note from this week, Taeyong places it back inside of the bouquet, setting it down on his vanity. “Doyoung!” When you delivered today’s bouquet, Taeyong had made specific orders to ensure that it got to him this time. “Could you fetch me some lavender?” 

So after the first time, every week Taeyong couldn’t help but find himself lying in wait anxiously just to get your bouquet and read the sweet little notes you left in them. He had made sure to keep every single letter. His room was so full of roses that he had to start placing them all over the palace, but not without making sure to get the little note always cuddled inside. Not only that, he even started to smell like roses and he couldn’t be happier. He soon found himself relying on the little notes left in the bouquets’ to get himself through the week. Even if it was the simplest message just telling him to make sure to eat, drink, and sleep properly it still means the world to him.

 He would get so excited for the bouquets that he had even started to make his way down to the palace entrance when he knew you were coming. Doyoung would compare it to a dog waiting on their owner to get home. He swore one of these days he was going to stop being a scaredy cat and go out and accept the bouquet himself, but until that day came he would remain behind the palace doors. 

The resounding gong of the grandfather clock echoed throughout the room, alerting Taeyong of the new hour. It’s not like he didn’t already know, though. “It’s 4 o’clock, I have thirty minutes till my roses come.” Signing the last of the documents, stacking them on top of his desk, Taeyong stands, stretching his lithe body in order to get rid of the stiffness in his joints. Walking around his desk, Taeyong makes his way through the door.

A monotone voice laced with sarcasm breaks the silence, scaring Taeyong. “I guess it’s time for your one-sided weekly date. Or is it one-sided since one brings gifts while the other just watches like a creepy stalker?” Doyoung questions, leaning against the wall next to the entrance whilst raising his eyebrow.

“N-no! I mean, yes, it is close to time for the delivery, but it’s not a date.” A light blush covers Taeyong’s cheeks as the word ‘date’ falls from his lips. “I was just leaving to go around the palace and see how everything is going, checking and making sure things are happening the way they should–y’know, kingly duties.”

Turning to face the obviously flustered king, Doyoung gives him a deadpan expression that screams mmhm sure. “All I got from that was that you admit to being a creepy stalker.” Taeyong’s mouth flies open, unable to give a coherent response. “Oops, look at the time! You should probably start making your rounds,” he says, walking out of the room, the sound of Taeyong’s incoherent ramblings drowning out as he walks away. 

Sobering up from his conversation with Doyoung, he makes his rounds around the castle, steadily making his way to the entrance, keeping his eyes on the time. By the time he makes it to the entrance, he can see the girl making her way up the palace stairs, still a little dot in the distance. He can’t help but notice the way his hands begin to feel clammy and his heart rate slowly picking up as your face comes into view. 

He remembers the first time he came down and was finally able to see your face clearly. He swears it was as if the world stopped. You looked more beautiful than any bouquet he has received from you. He was so flustered that he couldn’t help but to blush every time he thought of you. He knows because Doyoung wouldn’t shut up about the magenta red that spread along his cheeks at random times that day. 

He was so focused on looking at you that he didn’t realize the rushed way in which you gave the guard the bouquet. All he knew was that one second he was staring at your face and the next your back as you lightly jogged away. Slight disappointment settles in his stomach as he realizes you didn’t even attempt to convince the guard to give the bouquet to him this time. 

The guard walks over, handing the bouquet to the waiting king, not wanting to be gone from her post too long; she quickly turns around, moving to head back before the voice of the emperor stops her. “Wait!” Taeyong notices the tension in her body at the sound of his voice, “Yes, your highness?” she asks, voice shaking slightly. 

“Where is the note?” 

Turning back around, she faces the emperor. “What note, sir?” 

“The note. The one that’s always in her bouquets.” Taeyong notices his voice came out sharper than he intended when he sees the guard flinch slightly. “I apologize; I didn't mean for that to come out so harshly. I just—there’s always a note that comes with her bouquets and-and there’s not one in here.”

“Ah, I don’t believe there was one in there, Your Highness. At least, I didn’t see one when she handed it to me.” Upon seeing the crestfallen look that sits on the emperor's face, the guard instantly offers to check and see if it had fallen off somewhere. 

Not wanting to get his hopes up, Taeyong replies, “No you’re fine–it’s fine if you didn’t see it when she handed it to you then it must not have been there in the first place.” Taeyong can hear how disheartened his voice was. Deciding it’s time to go inside, he sends the guard off to go do what they were doing beforehand.

“Hey Tae, how was the–What’s wrong?” Doyoung instantly notices the somber expression placed upon the emperor’s face. “You usually are about ready to jump off of the walls and now you look like the baker just ran out of those sweet potato cubes you get when we go into town.”

“It’s nothing.”

Grabbing Taeyong’s shoulder, Doyoung turns him around so they’re face to face, “That girl didn’t say anything mean in that note she leaves in the bouquets did she? Cause if she did, so help me god- no so help her I will-.”

“Calm down, she didn’t say anything mean. She didn’t say anything at all. There was no note in the bouquet this time.” 

“Oh. Uhh well, at least she still delivered the roses. Maybe something happened and she didn’t have time to write the letter,” Doyoung tries to reason, hoping he would be able to say something that would lift his friend’s spirit. Taeyong could tell Doyoung was trying his best to be supportive but there is nothing he could say right now that could make him feel any better.

“Y-yeah, maybe.” Not wanting to think about it anymore, Taeyong leaves for his room with a wave. At least he finished all of his paperwork for the day and he can just lay in bed.  

Taeyong finds himself walking through a field filled with flowers without an end in sight. It’s not until he sees the outline of a person sitting in the field that he starts to speed up, hoping he could ask the stranger where he was at. 

As he gets closer, the person begins to seem more and more familiar. It has him thinking, trying to figure out who it could be. As if the person hears him they turn around and he’s surprised to see you sitting in the field. 

“Hello Taeyong.” 

“Ahh hi.” Taeyong can feel his heart rate pick up almost as if it’s trying to jump out of his chest.

“Would you like to sit with me? The bloom is absolutely beautiful today.” Replying with a stiff nod, the usually confident emperor shyly takes a seat in the field of white flowers. Giving the seemingly flustered male a soft smile you pluck one of the flowers out of the field, lifting it up to your nose smelling the fragrant plant. 

“Smells heavenly. Would you like to take a sniff?” you ask, taking the flower away from under your nose, handing it to the male opposite you. 

Taeyong takes the small white flower out of your hand, lifting it to take a whiff. He immediately recoils as the putrid smell of rotting flesh infiltrates his senses, “Wha-” You snatch the flower away from his hand taking another whiff. 

“Smells great, doesn’t it? I love the smell of white poppies.” It’s then that Taeyong’s mind remembers the white flowers that were in the first bouquet that he received from you as well as the meaning of the flowers. Finally taking in his surroundings, Taeyong realises that it’s not just a field of flowers but a field of dead bodies. 

“Y’know Taeyong, I used to be sad thinking that I was going to have to go forever without ever getting to see these gorgeous flowers. But because of you and the war your family started, all of these dead bodies were able to sit here and grow some of the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen.” By now you have picked up a whole bouquet worth of the poppies, little pieces of rotted flesh hanging off of the bottoms, “Too bad I had to die before I got to see them.” 

After hearing her last sentence Taeyong takes a good look at the girl, noticing that the white poppies she had collected were all from her body. “Y’know maybe you should die too so you can fully witness the beauty of these flowers,” you say with a slight tilt to not only your voice but your head. 

Before he can question it you’re already driving a spear through Taeyong’s heart. 

~

“Taeyong you look like absolute shit. Do you really think you should be going into town like that?” The bags under Taeyong’s eyes look bigger and heavier than the robe on his shoulders. It has been a week since you dropped off the bouquet without a note.  

“Yes, Doyoung. It’s been a month, we don’t want people to worry.” 

“Funny. You say you don’t want them to worry but you look like the living dead. They’ll worry either way.” The guard rebutts, crossing his arms sassily.

“Doie, I don’t have the time nor the energy to argue with you, just please can we go?” 

“That’s just it. You always have time and energy to argue with me! Taeyong, it’s been a week; it was just one note out of hundreds. Who knows; maybe she just forgot to put it in the bouquet, but regardless of what happened you can't keep moping around and carrying yourself like this. You’re an emperor, for pete’s sake! What will you do when she stops bringing the bouquets?”

Taeyong freezes. What will he do? He can't expect you to deliver bouquets forever, can he? At some point you’ll get tired of it, tired of him, and what will he do then? Standing straight, Taeyong makes his way out of the palace, head held impossibly high. 

“I- dammit Taeyong I didn’t mean it like-”

“No. You’re right, I can’t expect her to always bring the bouquets, that's selfish of me.” I can't always expect her to be here. It's selfish to expect her to be here. “Come on, we have people to see,” he says, climbing inside of the carriage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally done unpacking your clothes from the last minute trip you had to take last week, you plop onto your bed, completely beat. One of the families you delivered medicine to ran out suddenly and you had to rush to their house so that their child did not die. You spent the rest of the week nursing the child back to health after they had to go without medicine.  

The thing is, you got the message in the middle of making the emperor’s bouquet for that week and you didn’t have the time to make a note to put in the bouquet. Even though you know that the emperor doesn’t receive the bouquets at all, you still felt the guilt sitting in the pit of your stomach that entire week. 

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until you’re woken by a series of rushed knocks on your pharmacy door. Getting out of bed reluctantly, you grab your apron, tying it around your waist and walking to the door in order to go see who it is. 

“Chamomile Pharmacy, how may I–” you start opening the door until you get sight of the person on the other side and quickly slam the door back in place. Why was Emperor Taeyong at your door?!? And why did you just slam the door in his face? Reopening the door, you start bowing and apologizing to the seemingly starstruck emperor at once. “I-I am so sorry Your Highness, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s just you caught me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting it to be you behind the door,” you hurriedly attempt to explain until Taeyong is knocked out of the way by his royal guard Doyoung. 

“We don’t have time for this right now. You can have your little–whatever this is later. We need you to make more of this medicine for Mr. Young immediately. We showed up at his house right as he passed out and this was on his counter!”        

Grabbing the bottle, you realize this is the heart elixir you made him some time ago, “Shit! Okay I’ll be right back. I need to go grab something out of the garden first,” You quickly tell the men, writing at the speed of light on a piece of paper. “Here, while I’m getting that I need you two to look and find these in that cabinet over there. I need everything ready for when I get back so I can quickly get this to him.” 

Rushing out into the garden, you quickly sort through various plants until you find the two you’re looking for. You barge back into the pharmacy to see that Doyoung and the emperor got a little over half of the ingredients down. “Okay, even though everything isn’t down yet I’m going to go ahead and get started. One of you, continue to look for everything while the other comes over here and gives me a hand. We have to hurry.” You are so focused on getting the medicine done that you don’t even notice Taeyong handing you the supplies. 

Finishing up the elixir and gathering all of the utensils, you stuff them into your rucksack and run out of the door. “We rode horses over here, it’s faster than on foot. Hop on Taeyong’s; we have to go,” Doyoung all but commands as he mounts his horse, already taking off. The adrenaline pumping through your system helps to keep you calm about the fact that you now have your arms wrapped around Taeyong’s waist and are currently on a horse with him. 

In no time you’re riding up to Mr. Young's homely brick house, the one that he and his late wife built back when they were younger. Pushing your way into the house, you see the old man lying on a cot on the floor. Taking everything out, you lie it on a towel next to you on the floor and pull on a pair of gloves. 

Quickly checking the old man's pulse, you let out a breath in relief that it’s still there but very faint. You take a pair of medical scissors and cut his shirt open. Grabbing the bottle containing the green elixir and a needle syringe you urgently but carefully extract some of the liquid from the bottle. At this point the silence in the room is deafening, but you’re only able to hear the white noise buzzing in your ears, blocking out any and all distractions. 

You check and make sure that it’s the right amount before giving the syringe a slight squeeze, pushing a few drops of the liquid out of the needle. Taking a deep breath, you harshly stab the needle into the man’s chest, forcing the liquid through the needle, unknowingly garnering stiff gasps from those who are watching. You immediately retract the syringe only to place your hand on the same spot, firmly yet softly massaging it. 

After massaging for a couple of minutes you sit back, bated breaths falling from your lips. “You can take him to his room now, he needs to rest. I’ll go make some tea for everyone.” Gathering your supplies, you take them to the kitchen to disinfect and sterilize them. Behind the doors of the kitchen you finally feel yourself calm down and it’s then that you notice the intense way in which your hands are shaking.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was going fine, and he was almost done making his rounds with everyone. One of the last people he had to meet with was Mr. Young, the sweet old man who always made him help pick things out of his garden, and that’s when the day took a turn. Was it for the worse? Taeyong didn’t know yet. Walking in on the man passed out on the floor shook Taeyong to his core. When he and Doyoung finally noticed the empty bottle on the countertop, they read the label which stated the pharmacy where the medicine was from. 

From there, they took two of the guard’s horses and were off to find the pharmacy. It’s there that Taeyong found you, though the circumstances were less than great. He still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him, but the moment was over after Doyoung realized what was happening. Now that everything had calmed down and Mr. Young was okay, the fact that you were just a few steps away in the kitchen was eating at the emperor. 

“I don’t get why you just don’t go in there and talk to her.” Doyoung spoke suddenly, sounding bored with his life after noticing the way in which the king fidgeted in his chair, eyes constantly flitting to look back and forth from the kitchen door to his feet. 

“I mean, it’s not like she can do anything; you’re an emperor for god’s sake. Unless you want to continue being a creepy stalker, I suggest you go in there and tell her that you’ve been receiving her bouquets and you like them or some shit like that.” 

“I-I can’t just barge in there and–”

“He only had jasmine tea in his cabinets, so I hope there’s nothing wrong with that,” you say, walking into the living room with a tray of tea-filled cups in your hands. 

“Jasmine is fine,” Doyoung replied, simultaneously leaning down to pick up his cup. Taeyong suddenly couldn’t speak as you looked at him expectantly, wanting to make sure he was okay with jasmine tea. All he could do was look up at your glowing face with eyes that might as well be in the shape of hearts. “Ah jasmine is good for him as well. Forgive my liege, he's still a little shaken up from the situation.” 

With a soft nod you turn around, moving to make your way back into the kitchen. It was then that Taeyong’s mouth and mind decided to move as one. “Wait! Where are you going?”  

“Oh, uhm, I was going back to the kitchen. I figured you two would want to be alone,” you say, almost cradling the board to your body, gesturing awkwardly towards the door. 

“You don’t have to.  Why don’t you sit in here, with us?” 

“I mean, if you’re fine with that.”

“I’m fine, I’m more than fine.” The words were out of Taeyong’s mouth before he could even process them fully. You move to sit on the other side of the loveseat beside Taeyong. 

The sound of purposeful slurping provided by Doyoung barely sufficed at cutting the tension in the room. “I just remembered, we never seemed to have gotten your name?” Doyoung asked, ending the silence that layered the house. 

Quickly swallowing the tea in your mouth, you reply “Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me, my name is Y/n. I’m the owner of Chamomile Pharmacy.” You add a bright smile at the end.

“Owner, huh? You must really like medicine.”  

“Hmm, I guess you could say that, but not really. I mainly just like flowers, and growing up I realized all the medicinal benefits they hold, so I figured why not make money and spend my life surrounded by what I love?” You sit back in the seat, seemingly comfortable now that you’re talking about a passion. “I get to help people while surrounded by plants all day; it’s a win-win.” 

“Mmhm, that sounds lovely. Oh, Taeyong.” The king’s head practically snaps up at the mention of his name. Spotting the mischievous look in his best friend's eyes, his stomach practically dropped to the floor. “You love flowers as well, specifically roses. Don’t you, Your Highness?” 

“I–”

“Yeah, I distinctly remember your love for roses starting after receiving a bouquet full of them every week.” Doyoung had no idea that this was the flower girl at first, but Taeyong could tell by the way he had been acting ever since you came around that he had come to piece it together–especially after you blatantly declared your love for flowers just a few mere seconds ago. 

At his words, your mouth fell open in pure unadulterated shock. The emperor had been receiving your bouquets?! And he liked them? You had no idea how to feel with all of the mixed emotions flowing through you. 

Wide eyed, you ask, “You’ve been receiving my bouquets, Your Highness?” 

Taeyong is flustered when he replies, “Y-Yes I have, they are very… nice. Thank you for them.”

“He really likes the little love notes you put in them,” Doyoung adds, deliberately putting the word love in front of notes. At his words, Taeyong throws the harshest glare he could at the other man, wishing he could strangle him with his eyes alone. 

While Taeyong was glaring daggers at the knight, you couldn’t help but feel sheepish. You thought you were giving those flowers away for nothing, only to realize that the emperor had been getting them and he liked them. Then you remembered that you had forgotten the note in your last one. 

“Ah, I just remembered that I forgot to put a note in the last one.” You speak bashfully, lowering your head. “Well, I didn’t forget, per say, I just didn’t have the time–an emergency came up while I was making it and I had to hurry. I didn’t think it would matter that much since you weren’t getting them, but now I know you were, so I feel bad.”

“No, it’s okay, I understand. There’s no need for you to feel bad, things happen.” Taeyong finally speaks, not liking the obvious way in which you blame yourself. Standing up, he motions to a door, stating that he has to use the restroom.

The room sits silent at Taeyong’s absence. You still feel guilty, but before you can think too hard about it, Doyoung shocks you out of your thoughts with a  question, “Y/n, why do you always give roses?”

“Hm? Oh, why roses? Well that's easy, because he’s The Rose Emperor .” Doyoung lifts an eyebrow in question. “Ah, I forgot that I’m the only one who calls him that,” you explain quickly. “Well, one of the reasons is because he has this beautiful rose-shaped scar right under his right eye. And I mean, he’s like a rose. Pretty and elegant and practically harmless to the unsuspecting eye, but he has thorns, which he uses to keep people away, thorns he uses to hide things from everyone, even those closest…”You trail off for a moment, thinking. “Hmm, if you think about it that way, wouldn’t that mean we're all like roses?” You speak nonchalantly, looking somewhat deeply into your cup of tea. “So that would make this world a bed of roses, wouldn’t it?” 

Standing but a few feet away, hiding behind a wall, the man in question couldn’t help but overhear. The way you talked and the words you used to describe him made his heart pound. You sounded so sweet and genuine, and he couldn’t help but believe every word you said. His hand uncontrollably caresses the scar you mentioned. He never noticed that it looked like a rose. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Doyoung, I need to borrow some of your clothes.” Busting into the guard’s room, the emperor pants quickly, garnering the man’s attention. 

“Wha–for what?”

“No questions, I just need them,” the young ruler says, walking into the man's wardrobe. “Oh and if you have a hat and mask, I’m going to take those, too.”

Taeyong’s presence in the shop is known as soon as he walks through the door, a bell ringing upon contact. Hurriedly pretending to scan the shelves as if searching extremely hard for something, Taeyong hears you enter the room through the back door moments later. 

“Sorry for not greeting you as soon as you came in. I was doing a little gardening in the back. Is there anything I can help you with today?” you ask, simultaneously washing the slight dirt off of your hands at the sink.

Knowing it would be rude to not acknowledge you, Taeyong turns to face you, self-consciously tugging on the mask resting on his face, not knowing if he wants you to know it’s him or not. You walk over after drying your hands, ready to help the customer, finally getting a good look at the man’s mask-covered face. You freeze in your spot, not knowing if you are just delusional or if Emperor Taeyong is actually standing in the middle of your pharmacy. 

“Uhh Your Highness..?” you question slowly, giving the stranger room to deny if needed. 

“I–uhmm yes,” Taeyong stutters, taking the mask off of his face, revealing his apparently not-so-secret identity. Despite breathing just fine a few seconds ago, Taeyong seems to not be able to when you give him a dazzling smile. You ask him why he’s here and if he needs anything. “Yes, I’m here because I, uhh, need something to help with… headaches! Yes, I get headaches, y’know, from reading papers all day.”

“I have just the thing to help with that! I get headaches myself, and I find that the plant Feverfew helps a good bit. The plant itself can be a little strong and could cause irritation to the mouth if chewed, so I just grind it up and make a nice little diluted concoction with it, and it does wonders,” you say, grabbing the bottle containing the liquid, placing it on the counter, and making your way to the other side so you could bag the medicine.

“I must warn you, though–it can have very light side effects that can cause nausea, digestive problems, and bloating.” Finishing up you place the now bagged medicine on the counter sliding it over to Taeyong. 

“Ah, how much do I owe?” 

“Nonsense, you’re good, consider it the Monarch's discount.” Thanking you, the emperor grabs the bag, making his way out the door, “Bye, come again.” 

After the first time, Taeyong continued to visit the store, each time for a different reason. He stayed a little longer each time he visited, finding himself wanting to indulge in your presence more and more. Even when you would go to the palace to deliver your weekly bouquets he would come out now just to start a conversation with you. You both would end up just sitting on the palace steps talking for hours on end. 

Now was one of the times when you would sit outside the palace talking with the king.  

“Your Highness, word was just sent in from the WayV kingdom, and there are forms to be signed urgently.” Doyoung addressed the young emperor, throwing an apologetic look at you for ruining your time together. 

A breath falls past your lips as you push yourself up. “Oh well, I guess that’s my cue to leave. See you later, Your High-” 

“Wait. Why don’t you come inside with me? This shouldn’t take too long.” 

You and Doyoung gape at the emperor, both in shock. Wanting to hurry and get things settled, Taeyong passes both of your almost statuesque bodies. Doyoung offers to show you around while Taeyong does his work but the emperor quickly refuses. “I’ll do it when I finish.”

Grabbing your wrist, Taeyong all but drags you to his office. There are so many twists and turns that you have no idea how Taeyong didn’t get lost. “You can sit over there on the couch in the foyer. I have some books on the shelf over there you can read if you want. I'll be right here behind this desk.”  

Taking in the extravagant office, you can’t help but notice how roses cover almost every single open surface possible. He really did keep every rose he got from you. Just that thought alone makes your heart pound so hard that you can hear it beating in your ears. Deciding you should do something before you look weird, you walk over to the shelf, surveying the books available to you. 

You pick a book that looks good enough and sit down on the couch.You try to focus on the words in front of you, but the room is warm, and the couch is comfortable, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. You didn’t realize you fell asleep until you felt Taeyong gently shaking you awake. The sun had started to set, casting a beautiful warm golden glow around the room. 

 Taeyong sat beside you on the couch, still grasping your shoulder as you both stared intensely at each other. You felt yourself slowly leaning towards the beautiful man, almost as if you were in a trance. Taeyong couldn’t help but take in every gorgeous feature on your face as it was surrounded by a golden halo.

Moving his hands from your shoulder to the nape of your neck he pulls you in, no longer able to hide the attraction he has for you. Your lips mingled in a dance only privy to them. Leaving the one on your neck the other moves to the side of your face, Taeyong positions you just how he wants and you couldn’t help but to give in to him.  

It was as if his entire being consumed you and you had no choice but to follow his lead. Removing his mouth from yours he steadily transitions his lips lower splaying damp kisses all around your jugular. “Y-your highness, m-maybe we should stop.”

“Call me Taeyong darling and I don’t want to stop if you don’t.” he says, eyes flitting up to look at yours. “Do you want to stop?”

Feeling a fire burning in your stomach setting your lower regions ablaze, you know you can’t give him anything but the truth, “No, I don’t want to stop Taeyong.” Taeyong’s satisfied hum rumbles against your collarbone, “That’s my girl.” 

His lips find their way back to yours, an involuntary moan falling from yours as Taeyong pushes his tongue inside your mouth. He takes his time exploring your mouth as if he wanted to get acquainted with every nook and cranny. When he took his lips away this time it was as if he took your soul right with him. A small discontent whine leaves your mouth causing the male to coo, “Aww look at my precious rose, so needy already.”

He plants a small peck on your lips pushing you to lay back on the couch, “May I remove your pants darling?” Giving him a small head nod he starts to lower himself down to your now wet core. Your underwear comes off right along with your pants and the slightly cool air hitting your hot core feels almost heavenly. 

Lifting your legs on top of his shoulders Taeyong plants soft kisses along your pelvic region finally deciding to stop teasing he licks a long slow stripe up your wet pussy making sure to give a little more pressure right onto your clit. 

Taeyong’s hands move to sit in the crevice of your pelvis, tightening his grip simultaneously bringing you closer to his mouth as he proceeds to contort his tongue between your soft lips as a pianist moves their fingers across the keys aiming to hit the right notes to make you sing.

Your voice cracks almost violently as endless moans drip from your lips like sap out a tree. Eyes sealed shut you can’t help but to see stars as Taeyong makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. His soft hair rests between your fingers latching onto the strands for dear life as you attempt to somehow ground yourself. 

If he wasn’t holding you down you know for a fact that you would be humping his face akin to a dog in heat. “Fuck.” he moans between your legs sending vibrations all the way down your body. Suckling your lips between his as he looks up at your face scrunched in pleasure, “Open your eyes baby, look at me.” 

You should not have had as much trouble as you did opening your eyes but after a few seconds you finally were able to do so. “I want you to focus on me baby, watch me eat this succulent pussy of yours until you cum.” One of his hands moves, transitioning to start rubbing your clit applying ample pressure. 

His tongue starts to prod at the opening to the place in which you seemed to want him the most right now. The combination of his mouth and hands was too much and you felt your legs start shaking as you alerted Taeyong of your oncoming orgasm. “That’s it baby, cum for me. I want to see it.” 

You didn’t even know your voice could go as high as it did in that moment. Your labored breaths were halted as Taeyong pressed his wet lips to yours causing you to taste yourself on his lips. “You still up for that tour?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your Highness, there have been reports of an outbreak of some sorts. For right now it’s small but we have no idea what it is or where it came from.” Doyoung says, ending his report on current events. 

“Okay, since this is something we have no prior dealings with we need to tread carefully. Get everyone who might be infected and make sure they’re getting proper care. Talk to them, see what their symptoms are and ask what they were doing before they got sick. Maybe we can try and piece together how you contract it.”  

“Should we alert the public, Your Highness?” 

“No, not for now at least. This is still manageable. We don't want to scare everyone for no reason.” Finishing up his duties, Taeyong starts to head to your house. 

You had yet to talk to Taeyong about what happened that day despite having seen each other multiple times since then. Not like you regretted it or anything you just felt bad about Taeyong servicing you and you not being able to return the favor. You were interrupted in the middle of your naughty thoughts when you heard soft knocks ring against the door not to the pharmacy but to your house placed on the side of the pharmacy. 

Answering the door you only expected to see one person on the other side of the door. “Hi Taeyong.” you breathe softly gazing at the male opposite you. 

“Hello my rose.” placing a kiss on his lips you let him enter the room. Taeyong pulls two books out from his bag and you hurriedly rush over to where Taeyong sits on your bed grabbing your book as Taeyong pulls you onto his lap. Reading for a while your mind can’t help but to go back to what happened. 

Taeyong can feel the air in the room change as you squirm on his lap. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” 

“Uhh nothing Yongie.” 

Grabbing a hold of your waist Taeyong lowers his head to your ear, “It doesn’t feel like nothing darling.” His warm breath hits your ears as he slowly lets his tongue dart out and lick a stripe up the shell of your ear. 

“I- just want to pleasure you as well. Last time you only focused on me and I want to return the favor.” you speak turning around in the male’s lap legs wrapping around his waist. You bring the male into a feverous/feverish? Kiss. You hear his breath hitch as you slowly grind down onto his semi hard dick, and you feel the grip he has on your waist tighten. 

Moving yourself to Taeyong’s thigh instead of his entire lap. You maneuver his pants off leaving his boxers on. You slip your hand between your bodies reaching for Taeyong’s boxer clad cock. Lightly squeezing while massaging his length you lean forward gingerly planting kisses along his neck swirling your tongue on each spot you kiss. 

“Shit Y/n.”

“You want me to take it out, Yongie? Do you want me to wrap my hands around your hard dick and rub you till you cum all over my hands.” you tease applying more pressure to his hard appendage, “Hmm maybe I’ll even let you watch me lick your cum off of my hands.” 

“Oh Fuck yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound like begging to me baby.” 

“Hmm please baby, please take it out and make me cum.”

You grin, squeezing his now fully hard cock harder, “Well since you asked so nicely.”  Your hand moves to the band of his boxers removing the clothing. His erect penis pops up, slapping the male’s clothed abdomen after finally being released.

You let a few drops of spit fall onto the palm of your hand before giving Taeyong what he wants, gripping him. You slowly start to work your hand up and down his stiff cock fluctuating the strength you use to grip it.

“How does that feel Tae? Are you enjoying yourself sweetheart?” you whisper in his ear speeding up your ministrations. A broken moan falls from the semi pouted lips of the emperor. The feel of your hand gripping his cock felt like heaven he could barely think. 

The slick sound of your hand going up and down his dick was all that could be heard throughout the room. Taking your other hand you begin to not only stroke his length but also fondle his balls. “Ah, Y/n I’m not going to last much longer please make me cum.” Wanting to give him what he wanted you run the pad of your thumb along the underside of him and slowly massage the bundle of nerves just under the head. 

As soon as you do, a whimper leaves Taeyong’s lips as his head falls forward resting on your shoulder. His mouth starts sucking on any pieces of exposed skin he can find and you feel him mumble against your shoulder, “I’m cumming.” His warm release falls onto your hands covering them as you try to squeeze out every last drop. Raising your hand to your mouth you lick some of the cum off of your hand tasting him. 

“Fuck sweetie you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Taeyong. It’s gotten worse. The illness has started spreading; our attempt at keeping it contained was a failure. While it did slow the spread, it did nothing to stop it.”

Slamming his hand on the desk Taeyong couldn’t help but to curse, “Fuck! Did you at least figure out how it’s contracted and its symptoms?” 

“Yes, after questioning the patients it became pretty clear that it wasn’t contracted in any specific way. Almost all have reports of having been in public settings surrounded by a lot of people and said a few days later they caught a pretty nasty cold. Instead of it going away like a normal cold does, it started to get worse, pretty soon they couldn't move at all, not even lift a finger. After developing hot flashes, they start to lose the ability to speak, and you know they are about to die when they start to have rashes appear upon their skin.” 

“Have you asked the doctors if they can find a cure?” 

“Yes, we have already put them onto it, but for now there is nothing.”

Thinking about what he should do, Taeyong's hand comes up to scratch his jawline. He knows that he has to alert the public of the outbreak now. “Okay, since there is no discernible way in which they get it, we can assume for now that it is passed from excessive human contact. Doyoung, I need you to release a statement stating that there should be no excessive contact between everyone. If able to avoid big crowds then stay away.” 

Writing the commands down in a notebook, Doyoung asks, “Anything else?” 

“Yes, since it has gotten a lot bigger now, the public must be alerted, even though by now I am sure they have each heard their own variations of what’s happening. It’s better to tell them the truth than lie. We need everyone to be fully informed with correct information so that they don’t make things worse.” A tired sigh falls from his lips, “Release a doctor’s statement. I want the royal doctor to make a statement that will tell the public all they need to know about this new illness so they can protect themselves.”

“On it, Your Highness.” Doyoung says, turning around and quickly heading out the door. You were supposed to come visit Taeyong today. He's glad he gets to see you. You always make things better for him. You walk into Taeyong’s office to him writing something in a notebook. He was so involved in what he was writing that he didn’t hear you come in.  

“Hey Yongie.” Walking over to the male, you see him raise his head from the paper, looking at you with a dazzling smile. 

“Hello, beautiful.” Taeyong pulls you into his lap, “How was your day, my rose?” You start rambling on about what was going on at the pharmacy, and Taeyong finds himself zoning out looking at you talking animatedly about a customer you had today. It’s times like these where Taeyong realizes he could never live his life without you. 

Taeyong has been really busy lately, dealing with the disease outbreak. You guys have hardly seen each other. New word had been put out about the disease after one of the people who are believed to have gotten it first were found. Sadly they were on their last string, but their family said something about them eating a strange fruit some odd days before they had gotten sick. 

Business for you has practically skyrocketed, people hurrying to get all types of medicines just out of plain fear that they might contract the disease. Even though there is no cure yet, they still think that arthritis medicine will somehow help them. 

You had secretly been working on your own attempt at creating a cure, wanting to help Taeyong and get some of the pressure off of his shoulders and wanting to help the people affected by this disease. Of course it has gotten nowhere, but at least you try. 

You had asked Taeyong what the fruit that their family said they ate looked like in hopes of being able to find it and base an antidote off of that. He gave you the same description they gave him, but it didn’t lead anywhere. Noticing how empty the pharmacy had become, you felt it was the perfect time to go pick up some bread. 

Flipping the sign and locking the door you head towards the bakery. Ever since the decree had been made for people to not group together, the streets had been the emptiest you had ever seen. Walking in, you couldn’t help but notice the other people that stood around talking waiting on their baked goods. Putting in your order, you stand off to the side. 

“You know, they say that Emperor Taeyong has caught the disease.”

“What?! You can’t be serious.” 

“Why would I joke about something like that?” the first lady says, looking well over offended. “I have a friend who has a cousin who has a brother who has a boyfriend that works in the palace.” 

“Woah, so you basically know the emperor.” 

“Exactly. I swear on it, the emperor has the disease.” You proceed to tune out the gossiping women on the other side of the room. You know that there’s a good chance the lady is lying, but what if Taeyong has the disease? He hasn’t come to visit in a few days. You feel your chest constrict at the mere thought. 

You’re so distraught that you don’t hear the baker telling you your order is ready until after she walks up to you and hands you your bread. “Oh, uhh thank you.” Giving the lady a small nod, you walk out of the bakery.

When you get back to the house, you check for mail and find some in the mailbox next to your door. Picking it up, you notice the royal insignia on the envelope. Figuring it’s from Taeyong, you instantly start to tear it open.

Hello my rose, I don’t know how to say this to you, but I’m sick, really sick. I got the disease. I’m so sorry darling. Worst of all is I can’t even see you. I absolutely forbid you from coming here. Do you hear me? From now until we meet again, we can communicate by letter. I love you so much, my rose. 

Love, Your Yongie

As your mind slowly starts to register the note, your knees instantly give out, bringing you to the floor of your living room. You can barely register the sting from the impact. You couldn’t help but let out a broken gut-wrenching cry. Your tears feel like fire as they run down your face. You clutch your heart; it’s as if you can feel it breaking. 

Everyday Taeyong sends you a letter and everyday you put it in the pile with the others. It broke your heart every time you would put the letters unopened together with the others and never wrote a response back, but recently you had thrown your entire being into finding a cure for the disease. You couldn’t risk another breakdown like when you first found out, because every single second matters. 

Every second you spend trying to find a cure brings you closer to a forever with Taeyong, and you couldn’t risk that. You still open and run the pharmacy like normal, but even then you spend all of your time asking customers everything they know about the disease and whatever anyone they knew who had it was going through. 

Lately, the way you’ve been going at it was to find the fruit that supposedly started it all and find out why the human body reacts so badly to it. You just managed to find it yesterday while you were out in the forest for the third time hunting for it. You were planning to do some tests and see what you possibly can do. 

A series of harsh knocks rain upon the pharmacy door and the irritation at the possible customer shows on your face. “I’m sorry but we’re clo–” Your sentence stops abruptly as Doyoung harshly shoves past you, the anger and tension in his body evident.

“You know, you have some fucking nerve. Taeyong is literally dying right now, he is fucking dying yet he still manages to write you everyday. And on days when he can’t muster the strength he gets someone to write what he says.” Whipping his body around he faces you, face scrunched in a horrendous snarl, “And you can’t even take the time to write a fucking letter back. All you do is sit in this pharmacy and play in your stupid garden all day.”

It’s then that he notices the pile of letters sitting neatly on your desk, a scoff pushes its way past his lips, “Oh my fucking god, you didn’t have the decency to even open them. Have you ever even loved him? Tell me. Honestly.” He stares directly into your eyes, the fire in them seemingly endless. “Or was he just some toy? A part in some plan you had to get rich and become an empress or some shit. Did you just use my best friend for your own selfish reasons?” 

Your mouth opens, preparing to say something only for it to close again. Repeating that process multiple times you find out that there were no words you could say that would satisfy him. “And it’s funny because if that was your plan, then it worked. I know you don’t know but Taeyong planned to propose, he wanted–no, wants to spend the rest of his life with you. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but oh well.” At his statement, your mouth falls open again, leaving you utterly speechless. 

A moment of silence passes and a heavy sigh from the male fills the air. He stares tiredly at your desk, exasperated. “He’s dying, simple as that. Doctor says he doesn’t have much longer before the rashes start popping up. His estimate was at most two weeks.” With his face angled away from you, the tears that streamed down his face weren’t visible. “Do what you will with that information. I don’t have the time for this.” 

Turning his body, Doyoung walks out the door, leaving a chill in the air. You don’t even have it in you to cry. Your sorrow runs farther than any river in the world, yet the thought that kept you from breaking down was Taeyong’s smile. Then you realized you would never be able to see it again if there was no cure. Swiping  away the tears that managed to fall, you get back to work. Taeyong wasn’t going to die on your watch. 

Your chest felt so tight, like it was squeezing all of the air out of your lungs. You could barely feel the shock of your heavy footfalls on the pavement as you ran like your life depended on it. The steps to the palace have never seemed longer as you ran, hoping you made it in time. Passing guards all were blurs as you swore you were running at the speed of light. 

Making your way to Taeyong’s room, you see a distraught Doyoung crouched outside of the door. His silent cries cued your heart to fall to your aching feet. Barely able to get the words out you ask, “Am I too late, is-is he g-gone?” Your voice broke as you spoke those words. Doyoung doesn’t say anything as he silently raises his head to look at you. “I can’t be late. I-I found it, I found the cure. I have the cure to save Taeyong.” 

Not able to withstand Doyoung’s gaze, you burst through the king’s bedroom doors, instantly spotting the palace doctor at his bed. Taeyong lays lifelessly on the bed, chest barely managing to move up and down. This was not the Taeyong you knew, not the man you fell in love with. This man was just but a shell of him. You had never seen his skin so pale, his face sunken in to the point where you can easily see his cheekbones you loved to rain kisses on. 

“Doctor.” Your gaze shifts from the sleeping male to the doctor beside him, “He’s not… dead, is he?”

“No, not yet, but I do recommend you give your last goodbyes.” 

Walking up the man, you forcefully push the vial containing the cure into his hands, “Here, this is the cure.” Broken stutters leave the man's mouth as he questions the integrity of your statement. “Listen, we don’t have a lot of time; just trust that it will work. I have tested it on five different people, all of varying ages, and four out of five of those people survived. The only reason the fifth didn’t was because they were too far gone.” 

You update the doctor on what the antidote is and what it does. “The antidote is not a cure per say, it doesn’t get rid of the disease. I studied the fruit that the disease stems from and something in the DNA of it, let's just say it doesn't agree with something in our DNA, which causes basically an allergic reaction times 100. This antidote soothes the part of our DNA that reacts so badly, and that in turn stops the allergic reaction so that it doesn’t kill us. Now that I’ve wasted time explaining that to you, can we please get the antidote in his system?”

All of your talking caused the sickly emperor to awaken to your voice in the room with him. “Y/n, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to not come here. I-” 

“Taeyong, calm down, baby, please. I am here to save you.” You nod to the doctor giving him the go for the injection. “The doctor is about to inject the cure for the disease into you, then you’re going to get better for me, okay?”

After administering the shot, Taeyong had fallen asleep again from lack of energy. It had been 10 hours and you sat every single one on his bedside, wanting to be the first to see him. In those 10 hours, you told the doctor how to make more of the cure so that he could get it to everyone, and Doyoung finally came into the room after hearing what you had done, and gave you a proper apology for snapping at you. 

You feel a hand grip yours, and you snap your head up to see Taeyong looking back at you with a smile as big as he could conjure right now placed on his face. Quickly handing him some water, you start to question how he feels. Telling you he feels the best he has in weeks was good enough to satiate you for now. 

When Taeyong had finally convinced you to lay in bed with him, you chose this moment to give him his answer. 

“Yes.” A look of confusion covers Taeyong’s face as he wonders what you are saying yes to. “Yes, I will marry you.”  

You and Taeyong decided not to have a huge wedding, instead choosing to hold a ceremony with just a few of your closest friends, but you did have to present yourself to the empire now as the new empress.

“Are you ready, my rose?” Taeyong asks, walking up behind you in front of the mirror, enclosing his arms around your waist. You turn around to look at him directly, taking in his attire. 

“Why do you have such a heavy robe?” you question, noticing the heavy piece of clothing. You’d always wondered that whenever you would see him out of the palace. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Taeyong plants a kiss upon your cheek, “I-I don’t know it’s just customary, I never thought to change it.”

“Well, for my first decree as empress, I declare that you get a new robe, a lighter one.” you say, dusting the imaginary dust off of his shoulders. “You don’t need to have such a heavy weight on your shoulders. You can tell it weighs you down. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“Will do, my empress. Come, we have to go now.” 

It was getting to the last leg of the parade the citizens held in your honor. You felt so welcome by everyone. You were expecting people to hate you because you weren’t already a royal before you married Taeyong. “How are you holding up, darling? I know these things can take a lot out of people.”

“I am fine, my love, just slightly tired.” You can’t help but wave at every person you see, feeding off of their enthusiasm. Overcome with emotion, Taeyong can’t help it when he cradles your face in his hands, lowering his head whilst tilting yours to give him room, and plants a loving kiss upon your cheek. Your cheeks were on fire at his public display of affection in front of everyone, yet you found yourself fully indulging in the kiss, closing your eyes in hopes of savoring the moment. The kiss caused an uproar within the crowd, the citizens ecstatic at the relationship between you both. 

“Taeyong, what was that earlier today? Why’d you kiss me?” 

“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t help it when I saw you and how happy you looked waving at everyone,” he explains pulling you into another kiss, but this time on the lips. Slowly the kiss becomes heated and you start pawing at each other's clothes, almost ripping them off. Taeyong plants kisses along your neck as you begin to fondle his soft manhood. 

You feel Taeyong’s hand slide to your cunt rubbing your clit, “Looks like someones already ready for me. I wonder who made you this wet sweetie.” he taunts, slowly pressing one finger inside of you then a second curving them up and spreading them out in order to stretch your tight hole. Your low breathy moans fill the room bouncing off of each and every wall. 

Pretty soon you both are ready, blindly walking yourself to the bed you land on the soft cushion with an oomph. Taeyong slowly grinds his now hard cock up and down your slit puposely prodding at your clit. You wriggle your hips silently begging the male to hurry up and put it in. 

Giving into you because he was just as excited Taeyong finally slides himself in, his stiffness getting completely engulfed by your wet hot cavern. “Mmm, I’ll never get used to how well your needy pussy takes me in baby.” His slow thrusts simultaneously scratching that itch but just enough to make it come back for more.

“Harder Tae, I need to feel you wreck me.” Granting your wish taeyong stops the gentle loving strokes, swapping them out for a harsher more unforgiving thrusts. His hips smack yours as Taeyong puts what feels like all the power he has in his thrusts. You close your eyes and see stars as Taeyong fucks your soul out of you. His hands have an unforgiving grip on your waist, one going up to massage your breast, teasing your nipple.

Taeyong starts laying kisses along your body leaving purple spots in his wake. “ I want everyone to see that you are mine and I am yours forever and always.” Whispering in your ear, “Go ahead and cum for me baby, let everyone know what we’re doing so they can see who you belong to.” 

You all but scream Taeyong’s name out in pure ecstasy as you cum the hardest you ever have to date. It felt as if you had been transported to another world. Taeyong cums right behind you filling you to the brim with his seed. “It’s a little too late to say this now but I think it’s about time we start thinking about children.” He says pulling himself out of your now swollen lower region. 

“Oh my god shut up, I hate you,” you cry, out rolling your eyes

“I love you too, my rose.” 

#nct taeyong #taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong fluff #taeyong smut #nct 127 Taeyong #nct x reader #nct taeyong smut #nct taeyong fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 smut #nct u fluff #nct u smut #nct 2020 #nct 127 #bed of roses #MY STORIES

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

To never being parted - Part 2 Chap 4 - The Birthday Party

This is the Chapter 4 of the mini sequel to my flower cards inspired Kitty Fan Fic “Am I Forgotten?”

AO3 Link here.

****

As it turned out, Jace absolutely loved his surprise. He jumped in the pop-out cake to hug Kit, who pushed him away, and they ended up rolling and wrestling amidst the vanilla buttercream, with a crowd of onlookers cheering. The most enthusiastic was Mina, who shrieked with delight during the entire fight.

They both had to change after that, which was a relief. Tessa had to hastily recover Kit’s dress from Mina, who had undertaken to lick the fabric drenched in vanilla frosting.

The party was as decadent as any party organized by Magnus Bane could be. Dark blue velvet banners hung from the ceiling, stitched with the design of stars which seemed to shine, as if the guests were standing under the night sky. Candles glowed from every surface. Magnus had magicked up a small playground for the kids in one corner of the room, far from the chocolate fountains.

Kit carried Mina around on his shoulders for two solid hours before she finally asked him to put him down. When he did, she whispered in his ear. “When I am older, I am going to marry that tall and handsome Centurion bodyguard who has been following us everywhere… He takes such good care of my big brother.” Kit felt all the blood drain from his face.

****

The dinner table was covered with food from all around the world but Kit settled for a burger. He noticed that Julian had made the same choice although he saw him slip his lettuce to King Kieran, who had decided to make an appearance for Jace’s birthday party. He was seated between Mark and Cristina, and both were trying to get him to taste Mexican food. He shot Julian a grateful look.  

“So, has Ty been sleeping in front of your bedroom, as he used to in Los Angeles? That was so cute!” Cristina asked Kit, in a cheerful voice.

“Of course not”, Kit replied. “He is absolutely welcome to my bed now.”

Everyone around the table froze before turning to look at him. Shit. Did he say that out loud?  

Kit moved his gaze towards the only person whose opinion mattered in the case.

Ty, who was seated next to Dru and Jaime Rosales, was staring at him open-mouthed, his cheeks flushed. Oh well, thought Kit. I am not taking it back anyway. If I said I was joking, Ty would take it literally. And we wouldn’t want that now, would we?

Kit shrugged and went back to eating his burger.

****

After dinner, there was a cluster of girls around Lily Chen, who was seated on a chair flaunting the Hot Shadowhunters calendar, as if it was the best book of the year.

She had decided to publish a first edition, as an experiment, in an attempt to boost the Clave’s revenues. Alec had been reluctant at first, but even he couldn’t deny the incredible success of the calendar after only a few weeks of sales. It had been sold to both Shadowhunters and Downworlders, entire stalls being dedicated to it in several Shadow Markets around the world.

King Kieran himself had bought several to add to his collection which included kitten and mundane firefighters calendars.

“So, of course we have Jace for the month of January. That one - and Mark Blackthorn’s - were the easiest pictures to obtain,” Lily explained as she enthralled her audience by flipping through the pages of the calendar.

On the front page, Jace was almost entirely naked, a well positioned sword covering his most intimate parts. Mark was just as barely dressed, poetically covered in roses and thorns.

“I had to negotiate with Magnus for Alec’s picture but as it turns out, I am quite happy with what he provided.” Magnus winked. In the picture, Alec was half naked, his muscles flexed as he was pulling an arrow to his bow. His skin was covered with black marks which stood in stark contrast with his white skin.

“Here we have Jem. Although he is officially retired from the Clave, we couldn’t do this without him. He is much too popular with the Shadow Markets’ crowd. He is only half naked of course, but compared to what people used to see of him when he was a Silent Brother, this looks like porn.” Most of the girls giggled.

“This is Simon, it was easy enough to obtain a picture of him. I just had to offer him a limited edition of a light-saver…”

“A lightsaber,” Isabelle corrected.

“Whatever. The most difficult one to obtain was Julian Blackthorn’s, of course,” Lily continued. “I had to hire a professional photographer…”

“You mean a paparazzi,” Emma interrupted.

“Emma almost broke his arm…”

“He was lurking behind a rock, taking pictures of Julian while he was surfing…”

“But apparently you both found an arrangement.”

Emma stared off into space. “He does have talent. He took amazing pictures of Julian on his surfboard… I made an album of them. He’s going to be our wedding’s photographer. Free of charge.”

“That’s my girl,” Julian said, raising his hand for a high five, though not moving his gaze from Tavvy.

Lily turned to Kit and Ty, then, pointing two fingers at her eyes and at them. “Now that you have come of age, I have got my eyes on you boys.”

Ty looked terrified but Kit only shrugged.

****

Kit danced with a lot of people. Mina, mostly, but also Clary, Isabelle, Emma, Dru, Aline and even Lily, who kept giving him a variety of nicknames. Mostly food-related. When he waltzed with Tessa, everyone stopped to observe their graceful twirls, and they were given a round of applause. Kit had to admit he was quite smug about it. Not a single dance with Ty though, who had mostly been hiding in a corner with his headphones on, his arms crossed, though a friend of Dru’s kept talking animatedly to him. He didn’t seem to notice.

After a dozen dances, Kit was exhausted and parched. As he moved towards the buffet to get something to drink, Emma and Cristina appeared out of nowhere to stand in his path, their faces alight with excitement. Kit had noticed that when Emma was not glued to Julian’s side, she was always running around with Cristina and Mark, like an iconic trio of besties.

“Welcome to the club,” they said in unison. Had they rehearsed that?

“What club?”

“The club of fearless warriors who decided to take the hazardous path of dating Blackthorn men,” Emma replied with an ominous voice.

“One word of advice,” Cristina said. “Get as much sleep as you can, while you can.”

“What?” Kit was puzzled.

“Hmmm, how to explain…” Emma put one finger on her mouth, her expression thoughtful. “Have you ever wondered why there are so many of them?”

“The Blackthorns you mean? Er- because they like kids?” Kit answered.

“True enough,” Emma replied, winking at him.

“What else is there?” Kit asked, as he had the feeling he was missing something.

Emma and Cristina burst into fits of laughter, clutching each other for support.

Kit shrugged and considered it as his cue to leave. Ty had already left the party an hour ago and Kit was wondering whether he should stop by his room to watch him sleep. Just a little peek. Ok, no, that was creepy.

As he was heading towards the door to leave the party inconspicuously, Kit was stopped mid-flight by a hand grasping his shoulder.

“Not so fast, Kit Herondale.”

Kit turned to meet Julian’s blue-green eyes. He was a different version of the Julian he had known.

The shape of his face was sharper, his features more chiseled and his luscious Blackthorn waves longer. There were no longer circles under his eyes and Kit had noticed that he had stopped biting his fingernails. He seemed happier, more rested. Almost… glowing.

Kit had to admit he was stunning. But I am already head over heels in love with his brother, Kit was reminded.

According to Jace, Julian had been a close and trusted advisor of Alec for the past few years, the Consul relying on him for war strategy and delicate political matters.

During the time he had spent in Los Angeles, Kit had witnessed how dangerous Julian’s sharp mind could be when he decided to use it. How deadly. And that was tired, restless Julian. Glowing Julian… their enemies would never know what had hit them.

Julian’s gaze moved to Kit’s chest, where the Blackthorn locket was resting.

“I see that Ty has given you his and Livvy’s pendant. I trust that you know what this means.”

His blue-green eyes were now boring into Kit’s, and Kit could not help but feel exposed, as if Julian was not looking into his eyes but straight into his head, accessing his mind.

“I do. This is it, for Ty. I am it . First and last. There won’t ever be anyone else for him.”

“What about you?” Julian’s gaze was still burning holes through Kit’s eyes.

Kit sighed. “You know what they say. Herondales love but once.”

“And you just realized that, where you are concerned, this is true?”

“No, Julian. I had already realized that three years ago.”

Kit turned to move, but Julian caught him by the arm.

“You already know what I am going to say next, don’t you?”

“Julian, I have witnessed what you were capable of in order to protect your family. I’d rather be facing the nine Princes of Hell.”

“Good,” was all Julian said, letting him go.

****

Tagging @darkkitai

#cassandraclare #cassandra clare #cassandra clare fan fiction #the wicked powers #can’t wait for the Wicked Powers #the dark artifices #tda fanfiction #kitty fanfiction #kitty tda #kitty blackstairs #kit and ty #kit herondale #kit herongraystairs #tiberius blackthorn #ty blackthorn #JULIAN BLACKTHORN #emma carstairs #julian and emma #mark blackthorn #kieran kingson #cristina rosales #the shadowhunters chronicles icons #the shadowhunter chronicles

[angst-art-writing]

The Bliss of Being Blind(8)

TW: violence, blood, suicide

Training was different. Very different without Clint. It’s not that they were missing one person, they had.. Another person, it’s just that person was Icarus and not Clint. The ginger would have been there anyways, but once Clint was gone, he stopped watching and started training with them.

Iris was the only one who didn’t mind it. The two sparred together mostly, leaving Will and Talyn on their own while the two played around in their own little bubble. Iris would usually be the one to correct their form and teach, but she was too busy now.

Will was watching them go at it, seated in front of Talyn. She was sitting on a boulder, leaning her arms on his head.

The couple danced wildly. Iris was trying to hit him, but he moved fluidly and rapidly, ducking around and underneath her fists, avoiding her sharp kicks. Will could see sparks underneath her gloved hands, darting out from underneath. He hadn’t noticed her gloves before- she had never bothered to cover her hands- Maybe her hands were cold. The cool seasons were here, anyways.

At last, the dance ended with Icarus pinning Iris underneath his boot. He grinned down at her and stepped off as she got up. Iris turned towards Will and Talyn. She smiled apologetically then.

“Sorry you two,” she said, as she brushed back pieces of hair from her flushed face. “We got a bit carried away. Come on, we can get back to work-”

“No,” Talyn said abruptly, getting to her feet. “It’s late. We should go.”

“Aw, no- Diana won’t mind, will she Tal? Will, you want to stay, don’t you?”

No. “I have to help my mother back home,” he responded, getting up as well. “I’ve got to get the kids to sleep soon.”

“I can cover for you again from Diana, Iris,” Talyn said sharply as she sat down her quiver and bow, leaning them against a wall. “Come on, Will.”

She began walking and Will turned to follow. Before he exited, he turned back and waved at the two.

“Thanks, Talyn! Have fun! We’ll see you tomorrow!” Iris called, not seeming to notice the energy.

Will glanced back and saw the two sparring again almost immediately.

-------

Talyn and Will talked together up until the crossroads, in the middle of town. She bid goodnight to him, hugged him, and took off her own way with a brooding look. A look so brooding she wondered if Clint had possessed her. Will watched her back for a moment, before he turned too. But he did not turn to go home like he had said.

Sneaking past the patrol guards was easy. He moved through the town quickly, using the tall buildings to cover himself from the guards patrolling the area.

He didn’t have any weapons on him; Not that he planned on fighting anyways. He tried to avoid it. His family could be hurt if he managed to get on the wrong side of Diana and the guards.

Will no longer had to sneak as he approached the edge of the city, to where hills stood tall. The only footsteps he heard were his own. He began to go up one, the sharp night breeze cooling the sweat on his face. When he got to the top he looked down and smiled. There was a tall house and a huge farm. The owner wouldn't mind, for they wouldn’t even know.

Hopefully. Stealth was Talyn’s thing. She always bested him at hide-and-seek.

He ran down then to the stables and geared up the horse. The horse looked at him sleepily but didn’t make any noise. If needed, Will would bribe it with a carrot he saw when he was sneaking in. The horse didn’t mind, and soon the two were galloping off.

Moving past the hills and the fields to the tune of the horse’s footsteps, he approached another clearing and flat land, just before the forest.  He stopped there and hopped off the horse, patting its neck graciously before turning to look out. The horse bent its head, searching for any speck of green grass to munch on. With the cold on its way, the grass had died off.

“Sorry bud,” Will whispered. “I’ll get you a treat when I go back, yeah?” He cooed, patting the horse's neck before turning and looking out.

In the middle of the clearing, this was the base for one of the sections of the Front, built like a castle. It was surrounded by large towers built out of stone, with brilliant spikes at the top and a large grey gate he could see standing tall. Brown, dying vines decorated the front in a chaotic pattern, but the banners that hung were not crowded by the strings. Will could still see the symbol, a wolf snarling dark against a blue clash.

Base Alexiarie.

Base Alexiarie was one of the four bases of the Front. This base represented protection, loyalty. The other three, Will did not know. This one was the most well-known and the most respected. In the battle against Victor, many of their soldiers had died in honor. After the war, the sections of the Front had been set up. The other bases were located around the Capitol.

Will began to head down to the base. There didn’t seem to be many guards towards the back.

He began to walk along the side, counting the windows. When he got to number twenty-three, he picked up a pebble and chucked it at the window, praying. It sailed through-

“Ouch!”

Will smiled. Right after, came Clint who threw back the pebble. Will avoided it. He looked out the window, his look of annoyance changing to one of surprise.

“Will?” He whispered, though Will still heard him. The wind stilled, pausing in the air.

“Yeah! It’s me! I came to visit!” Will grinned brightly up at him. "Come down!"

Clint sighed, looking around for a moment. “I might get in trouble-”

“When has that ever stopped you?”

“..Good point. Okay, I’m coming.” He sighed, lifting one leg over the edge. He used the tangle of vines to climb down, landing softly at the ground. He was barefoot, dressed in night clothes.

Will headed over quickly, immediately hugging him when Clint was settled. He felt him tense at first, and he was ready to draw back before he felt Clint’s arms wrap around him. Clint smelled of sweat and ice and dog. The smell was comforting.

After a moment they pulled back, and Will smiled wider. “I wanted to check in on you. How is it, base Alexiarie? Tough? Easy?”

“It’s great. The commander is Pierce, Diana's buddy. He’s training us, and the dogs at the same time.” Clint said. “It’s hard work. But I like it. The other bases are working hard too, I'm sure."

“What are those ones like? I was never able to figure it out and I always get them mixed up.”

“Well, Brigid stands for perseverance and strength. Virtus stands for bravery, and Athaera represents glory. They’re all good, in their own way.”

“That’s weird... Oh! Have you heard any talk about Lilura and Eira?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been training non-stop. But it seems things just keep getting worse from the bad moods of the other commanders.” Clint sat down with his legs crossed. “I did hear Lilura is paying us well, though. With resources.”

“Seriously? But don’t they need those for themselves?”

“They want more fighters, I think. Trying to buy us. But I don’t think we will. It’s not our battle. Those two realms have always hated each other, they’re trying to get rid of one another. Eira’s the one who started it, from what I did hear. They declared war, accusing Lilura of awful things and taking its citizens for..projects.”

“What? That’s insane. Lilura keeps to itself-”

“Supposedly.”

Will leaned back on his hands then. “We do keep getting refugees and people from Lilura. Diana’s happy with them, they started to stay in the Inn’s. Melanie’s is packed, filled to the brim."

Clint shrugged some. “I wouldn’t worry about it; it’ll sort itself out.” His face brightened, as if remembering. “Oh! How’s Aliane and the kids? I miss them a lot."

“They’re fine. Aliane is disappointed you’re gone, but work keeps her busy. The kids are rowdier than ever- But we manage.” Will added the last bit to assure him they were fine. In truth, it was harder. But he didn’t want to tell Clint back, didn’t want to tell him that he wanted him to come home, right away. He was able to keep his mouth shut.

“That’s good!” Clint opened his mouth to say more, but his head snapped to the right as he was interrupted by an echoing slam.

Will followed his gaze, seeing the gate start to open. Clint’s eyes widened a tad, before he looked at him. “If you get caught, my ass is- Whatever. To the right, when you move the bushes, there’s stairs. Wait down there till the patrol passes, then go. Okay?” He spoke firmly, familiarly. It was the voice when they were in a tight spot, and he had to take control.

Will nodded quickly, hugging Clint briefly before the two got up. Clint began to scale the vines quickly, while Will followed his directions, the sounds of heavy boots teaching his ears. His chest tightened slightly, palms beginning to sweat.

He moved quickly, light on his feet before reaching the bushes. Thorns poked at him as he moved them aside, revealing a staircase leading underground. Praying no one was there, he descended- Listening to heavy boots walking then fading shortly after.

Waiting for a few moments, he turned and looked down. There were torches, lighting up a hallway. There was nothing in it, but there was a turn.

Biting his lip, Will began to walk down. He took a torch off the wall, then, and began to walk. He walked and turned, heading down that hall, to another set of stairs. Perhaps this used to be a hangout spot, a faster way of travel- a place to hide. All he knew was that Victor built these bases for his armies and they were repurposed after the end of the war.

He went up and found a trapdoor, forcing it open as he headed up the stairs. He exited out then, finding himself outside one of the newer fences. This structure hadn’t been around before. It was surrounded by a tall fence, with tall spikes at the top. Will looked up. He could see red on one of the black spikes, shining in the moonlight. Perhaps a bird had flown into it..

Shaking his head, he began to turn, to head back up the-

“Please, please, please...” A soft wailing whisper, that made Will pause in his tracks. Goosebumps rose on the back of his neck, and he turned, looking back at the spiked fence. Before he knew it, his feet were carrying him towards the fence.

He paused.

“Please...”

The voice sounded feminine, soft, and desperate in a different accent Will hadn’t recognized. Tears dripped off their words, slowly and wet.  He pressed his face against the fence, peering through a gap with one eye, to try and see.

His gaze settled upon a smaller building inside with barred windows. It looked like it had been built in a haste, not nearly as well built as the other buildings. It didn’t even look safe.

There was a faint creaking noise that made Will’s gaze travel up, squinting at the top of the window. A figure, as pale as snow, was slipping through the bars, squeezing their thin frame through. The beat of Will’s heart froze as the figure paused, teetering on their toes at the edge.

“Home...”

The same voice quivering as if the wind had shaken their words.

Will couldn’t do anything but stare, his eyes widening and his mouth opening.

He tried to find his voice, but the words stuck in his throat and echoed in his head.

Stop! Don’t!

He wanted to close his eyes, squeeze them shut and never open them again- but alas, he saw the person lean forward and hurtle towards the ground; Limp before they even hit the cruel earth. They floated down, like a dove that had just been shot out of the sky.

Will swore he could almost see feathers billowing out as the person hit; But the feathers were black. He knew it was blood and not soft feathers. Hot, sticky blood.

------

The next day, Will met Iris and Talyn at the back of the Inn, where they were taking care of the horses for travelers. He didn’t want to risk being overheard inside, so they talked out there. Iris cleaned the hooves while Talyn refreshed water, and Will cleaned off another horse. His hands were still shaking. They hadn’t stopped, and they shook even more violently as he retold the story of last night. He had planned to keep it a secret but that would be impossible.

“...They fell, just like that. I... I could see their blood. It was so dark it looked black,” he recalled. He struggled to keep his voice steady. “They’re refugees. From Eira..”

It was silent for a moment. He felt the two girls staring at him.

They spoke at the same time. “Are you okay?”

Will just nodded his head and avoided their gazes.

“How... Did you... Come to this conclusion?” Iris asked him slowly, going back to cleaning. He saw the muscles in her neck tense slightly, her jaw stiff.

“Think about it. We get all these refugees from Lilura- because they pay. They’re a very rich kingdom, from the little we know. Eira has been focusing on the war, they can’t afford anything. They send their people here for protection, but they cannot pay for it. Yes, they are protected. But they do pay. They pay with their freedom.”

“Why would they do that?” Iris asked next. “My mom, I mean.”

“Why would Diana let someone in for free? Lilura is giving us stuff. Eira has nothing to give. But Diana wants to keep up her reputation, keep cool with Eira and Lilura. Eira’s Ruler has no idea.”

Talyn looked down for a moment, before she looked up, a glint in her eyes. “What can we do?”

“I...Don’t know. If they’re out, they won't ever survive here anyways. The guards will find a reason to arrest them.” He rested one arm, leaning against the horse. His mouth was dry. Slowly, he looked at the other two. “There is no safer place..”

“But we can’t just leave them there! It’s awful!” Talyn cried, setting down the bucket. Water splashed out of it slightly.

Iris hissed slightly, giving Talyn a stern gaze. “Talyn, whatever we do will only make it worse for them. They’ll be slaughtered. Just like last time.”

Talyn opened her mouth, but then quickly shut it and looked away.

“We’ll do what we can, Tal,” Iris continued, making her voice less firm. “We cannot save them right now.”

Will looked away then, and silence fell over them once again.

He wished he hadn’t seen the person fall. Wished he could’ve just turned his head and looked away and never spoken about it again. But he didn’t have that privilege.

#oc writing #whump #whump series #suicide tw #whump writing #oc whump

[sketchyships]

You remind me of the babe (chapter 1/?)

I can explain.

....No I can’t.

Listen, just read this and pretend that you didn’t see it.

TW: Verbal parental abuse

/./././././././././././././././././././././

My hands shook as I locked my bedroom door behind me, my mother’s still screaming voice echoing across the house. She had been doing this for two hours now; two hours of endless berating, and insults. I couldn’t handle anymore of it. 

“LET ME IN!” I winced as she screeched through the thin wood of my door. 

My cries caught in my throat, causing me to hiccup and sob. “N-n-no. I-I need a m-minute.”

“You don’t get to walk away from me! I’m not finished! You’re acting like a spoiled child-” Her tone grated against my skin, making me want to scratch, to pull my hair and scream back. Before I could think about what I was doing, I stumbled away from the door and into my closet, slamming it shut behind me. Within moments I was on the floor, clutching my chest and sobbing. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t stand to live like this.

“You’re such a fucking child! Twenty years old and you can’t even take care of yourself! Do you even think?!” 

Her earlier words echo in my mind, still ripping into me. My own mother didn’t think I was capable.

“Some of us have to go to work and pay the bills! The least you could do is try and help out, but no, you don’t care to do anything unless it’s fun for you!” All of this just because I had forgotten to take out the trash. Was I really so selfish for forgetting something so small?

“You were supposed to be in college by now, and instead you’re wasting your life! You want to be a child?! Fine! I’ll take everything away from you, and you won’t be able to leave! I’ll treat you like one!” She thought I was a failure, and to be fair, I probably was one.

My chest ached as I struggled for breath, the memories of everything she had said overwhelming me. I cried out without thinking, my voice hitching as I rocked back and forth. “I-I wish I c-could just disappear! Just get me out of here! Anyone, please!”

My voice faded, and I was left in silence. There was no one to hear my cries, no one to comfort me. I was totally, and dreadfully alone. It was stupid of me to give in and let myself break like this-

I froze in place as I heard a tiny, high pitched giggle above me. I blinked and looked up, squinting in the darkness. “H-hello?”

Another giggle, this one in front of me. My breath froze in my lungs as I reached up and tried to shakily turn on the light. No matter how hard I searched, I couldn’t seem to find it.

The giggling grew louder as I stood, forcing open the closet door before stumbling toward the light switch. The light flickered on for a moment before the light bulb sputtered out with a loud POP! 

I screamed and ducked my head to avoid any falling glass shards. Ok, fuck this. The stress was finally making me crack. I shook myself and tried to open the door. “Mom? Mom, I’m sorry, but I-I need help-”

The door knob didn’t move as I yanked it side to side. The giggling was growling steadily louder around me as I struggled to keep my breathing steady. “M-mom-”

I screeched as I felt something latch onto my leg in the darkness. The laughter exploded into cackles as I felt what seemed like claws dig into my legs and start to drag me down.

“STOP IT! STOP! HELP!” I had lost it. Was this some kind of nightmare?!

“What do you think we’re doing?” A voice like broken crystal crooned in my ear as more tiny claws dug into my shoulders and sides, lifting me off the ground.

I strained to get out of their grasps, covering my face as I began to hyperventilate. This was a nightmare, it was all just a nightmare. I had fallen asleep inside the closet, I was going to wake up. I needed to wake up, RIGHT NOW!

“That’s quite enough. You can let her go now.” I gasped as all of the hands dropped me, and I smacked into the ground with a harsh thud. I jolted up, kicking at the tiny creatures that were scurrying away from me.

“That’s the last time I send them to retrieve something so important.” I froze as  a shadow fell over me. “Are you quite alright? They didn’t smack your pretty little head off anything, did they?”

I blinked and slowly forced my eyes upward. The man standing over me was… I couldn’t decide if he was enchanting, or insane. The first thing I saw were his riding boots, shined so perfectly I could see my own terrified expression in them. Then a pair of light gray dress pants, and a black corset vest over what looked like a Victorian dress shirt. The entire outfit seemed to glimmer slightly, as if the wearer had been dipped in a mix of shellac and glitter. All of that paled in comparison to his actual face. His eyes practically glowed, one a radiant emerald green, the other a honeyed earthen brown. His skin was pale, and his face was chiseled like a marble statue. When he spoke, his mouth was overfilled with fangs that grew in every direction, and long, warped ears stuck out from his golden hair, which emulated both a spider plant and a cartoon cigar that had exploded. My heart sputtered for a beat, but it wasn’t out of fear.

My mouth opened before I could think about what I was about to say. “If I’m dreaming, I’ve got some issues to work out with my subconscious.”

He snorted before offering me a hand. I flinched back on instinct, lowering my head.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He raised an eyebrow and looked back at his hand expectantly. 

I paused before slowly taking it and standing, glancing around. I was in what looked like a stone throne room. The walls were crafted with what looked like giant, uneven bricks. We stood on uneven, cracked tiles, and a deep fire pit was set in the floor about a dozen feet away.. The walls were covered in uneven shelves, and large, colorful banners. For a throne room, it was rather… unfinished. 

“What do you think, Emily?” I froze as he spoke just behind my ear.

I turned, nearly tripping on an uneven tile as I felt my eyes widen. “How do you know my name-no, stupid question. It’s- it’s fine.” I took another step back, trying to get space between us. “It’s lovely, really. Now, I… I hate to be rude, but I really must leave. Which exit do I take to wake up?”

My stomach dropped as he smirked down at me. “Leave? Wake up? Dear girl, you aren’t making any sense. You did ask to be taken away, didn’t you?”

My desperate words from before echoed in my mind. “I- well, yes, but I- this is just a dream, this isn’t real-”

“Is that so?” I took another step back as he walked closer to me, flinching yet again as he grabbed my arm. He lifted his free hand to reveal a crystal ball. He pressed it into my hand, and I winced as it warped against my skin. When I looked down, I was holding a white rose, it’s thorns digging into my palm. It’s perfume was overwhelming, and I grimaced as he guided my hand closer to my face. “Tell me, does this seem like something you would dream of? Something so vivid, so life like?”

I dropped it, shaking my head and raking my hands through my hair. “I- That’s not- I don’t- stop!” I couldn’t handle this. This couldn’t be real, but he was right. Everything around me was so unwillingly real.

“No. You asked to be taken, so I took you. It will be easier for you to calm down if you accept that.”

“Who are you?!” My panic began to sour in my stomach as I stared at him. “What kind of sick joke is this?” 

He smiled again. “You don’t know? Has it been so long since you thought of me last?” He bowed at the waist. “The dreadful goblin king, Jareth, at your service.”

I felt like I had been shot point blank. So many childhood fairytales, so many daydreams, so many days out in the woods with imaginary friends came rushing back all at once. This couldn’t be real. The goblin king was the antagonist of so many stories I had made up when I was younger. He was an evil, possessive, manipulative bastard that was obsessed with control.

And, now apparently, he had kidnapped me, and taken me hostage. 

He stood straight and stepped closer to me. “Why so shocked? Do you not recall the many times I offered to help you? To take you away? All I asked was that you gave up your old life and became mine. Now, you have finally seen reason-”

My shock faded as I stared at him. With every word, I felt something molten hot begin to grow inside me. It didn’t matter if this was a dream; the audacity of any character, any creature to think that they had any right to steal me, was disgusting. I decided to do the only thing that seemed logical in the moment.

I reeled back, and sank my fist into his smug, glittering face.

#self insert #this might be the first written thing I've posted on here and i'm pissed about it #we are going to pretend i'm not anxious about posting this #sketch scribbles #ship: babe with the power

[solynaceawrites]

Wires [1] A Fresh Start

Rating: Mature Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/F, F/M Fandom: Devil May Cry Relationships: Dante/Original Female Character(s), Implied Nero/Kyrie, Implied Vergil/Original Female Character(s), Implied Lady/Trish, Dante/Lirael Thorne, Dante/Lir Characters: Dante, Morrison, Nero, Original Female Character(s), Lirael Thorne, Lir Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Violence, Gore, Dark, Horror, Supernatural Elements, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Serial Killers, Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut Summary: In Red Grave City, a serial killer stalks the streets. Lirael Thorne, recently transferred from Fortuna and looking for an escape from her past, winds up on his trail. Hunting him with her veteran partner, Dante Redgrave, they try to piece together the wires that bind the three of them together. In a race to catch him before he leaves more victims in his wake, the things thought buried will come to the surface, tearing lives and comfort apart.

»»————-　⚜　————-«« 

“Everybody has a geography that can be used for change; that is why we travel to far off places. Whether we know it or not, we need to renew ourselves in territories that are fresh and wild. We need to come home through the body of alien lands.”   — Joan Halifax

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Holding an aspirin tablet between her teeth, craving a drink, Lir listens to the clacking of the keyboard and blinks against the watery light streaming between the blinds. The office of Red Grave’s chief of police is smaller than the one in Fortuna, but neater: gone are the numerous potted plants, the maps and spreadsheets tacked to every available surface, the bookcases littered with little knick-knacks and family photographs. Those personal touches have been ignored in favor of something that is neat, organized, the little bit of warmth the room has coming from the soft bulb of the desk lamp and the mahogany of the furniture. It’s a bit of a relief, really. Sanctus had been old—too old, in the opinion of many—and took on a fatherly role that often left Lir feeling chafed and angry. At least here, going from first impressions, there will be no blurring of the line between duty and her personal life.

Seated with his back rod-straight is her new superior. A gold nameplate on the desk reads J.D. Morrison, and as he reads whatever file he’s pulled up on his monitor, Lir wonders what the initials stand for. James Dean is her first thought, and she finally crunches the aspirin, using the bitter flavor to smother her budding laughter. Sure, yeah, why not? Red Grave is a big city, and maybe Morrison’s parents had been so attached to the ill-fated actor that they’d saddled their son with his name. Certainly wouldn’t be the strangest thing she’s heard of.

“Detective Thorne,” Morrison says. He opens a drawer and pulls out a cigar, which he lights in clear disregard of the signs posted on the doors to the building. “Says here you transferred out for personal reasons.”

“Yessir.” The dull throbbing behind her temples grows at the scent of smoke. “Wanted a change of scenery.”

He coughs, clears his throat. “That so? Well, we’ve had people do it for less. Though your track record . . . You seem to have been on a fast path to promotion. ” Lir says nothing. The expectant silence stretches between them until it turns uncomfortable, but she’s not in any particular mood for niceties. She has an apartment to unpack and a bitch of a headache brewing and she wants to get this introduction over with as quickly as she can. Finally, Morrison sighs, silver plumes curling through the air. “Normally, you’d get a tour and time to sort out your desk, but we got a call this morning and it’s all hands on deck. You up to fieldwork?”

His shrewd gaze rephrases that question nicely. You willing to actually work? “Sure.”

Morrison studies her for a few seconds longer, then nods and stands up, raising his voice to a shout that makes her wince. “Officer Simmons!”

A young man with untidy white hair tucked messily under his cap stumbles in. “Yes, Chief?”

“Take Detective Thorne here to the alley.” Simmons’ face pales, and Morrison barks, “Now!”

“Yes, Chief!” Simmons snaps into a hasty salute before scurrying out of the office.

Lir gives one of her own to Morrison and follows, feeling a sort of bemused pity for the officer. She’d been there once, bright-eyed and eager to please, thinking that the law enforcement they showed on television, with its friendly camaraderie and kind-yet-stern chiefs, was the truth of it. Simmons must still be clinging to that, and she pops another aspirin into her mouth and chews it as they weave through the bullpen to the doors that lead outside.

Simmons doesn’t say much, though he opens her door when they reach the cruiser, flushing under her raised brow, and his uneasy quiet persists well into the ride. Definitely fresh, Lir thinks. Probably still spit shines his shoes in the morning and tells people he’s a cop with pride.The thought is bitter, and angry, and distasteful. Not that it really bothers her anymore; her mind has been particularly not tasty as of late.

They drive through cramped, winding streets that turn unexpectedly into one-ways and cross over themselves into a maze, closed in by the dingy buildings until it all feels more than a little claustrophobic. Red Grave City is coastal, just like Fortuna, but it’s much larger, with more crime, and rumors of rampant corruption and greased pockets give it an unsavory reputation with other law enforcement agencies. Yet in stark contrast, it’s as much of a tourist hotspot as Fortuna, its historic district and scenic parks and ritzy downtown drawing numerous crowds every year, regardless of the season. Lir takes all of it in, the cafès and hotels and convenience stores fighting for space, their colorful signs and banners almost garish against the dull brick, and it’s not until they pass into a more modern area with skyscrapers of steel and glass that she decides to ask where the hell Simmons is taking her to.

“What’s in this alley?”

Simmons jumps, the wheel jerking under his hands and sending them partially over the white lines. A minivan behind them lays on the horn, and Lir watches the driver raise his middle finger as he speeds by once Simmons has corrected. “Sorry, ma’am. Uh, Detective. I thought the Chief filled you in.”

“No.” She straightens. “Just that it’s serious.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he mumbles. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Yes.” The sight of his momentary pout sends irritation flaring hot and thick along her spine. Lir swallows it and rubs her temples. “Just crack the damn window.”

“Sure thing.” He does, and then reaches for a pack on the dash and. Drawing a cigarette from it, he says, “Call came in maybe twenty minutes before you showed up. Jane Doe found in an alley. She, uh . . . Well, it might be better for you to see for yourself, but it’s . . .” His fingers tremble as he tries to flick his lighter. Lir takes pity on him and pulls her own from her coat, and he smiles gratefully as she holds it to his cigarette, though his face is pallid and shiny with sweat. “First body?” At his nod, she sighs. “You’ve probably heard it gets easier.”

“Does it?” Simmons looks at her hopefully.

Lir snorts. “No. Eyes on the road.”

He retreats into a silence that’s not quite sullen, leaving her to her thoughts. Which mostly center around whether or not she’ll have time to find a new bar, one of the nice and private ones where no one wants to get friendly or gives a shit that she’s a cop, only that she pays her tab. When they arrive at the crime scene, Simmons stays in the car, looking ready to puke. Lir raps on the door once it’s closed and jerks her chin, signalling for him to head out, and she waits until he gives a shaky thumbs up and pulls away from the curb to head towards the yellow tape strung between a nightclub on one side and a sports bar on the other. An officer at the corner stops her until she shows her badge, then lifts the tape for her to step beneath. Immediately, she’s assaulted by the wet, mossy stench of death and viscera, and she takes the gloves and shoe covers and slides them on to buy herself time to adjust to it.

Cops swarm outside of the alley, keeping the rabid press contained. Inside, there’s only four others, three men and a woman, but Lir ignores them in favor of taking in all that she can before she’s forced to talk. Four dumpsters are present, two on each wall with the city’s waste disposal logo printed on the side; bits of trash and litter surround them: used condoms, soda cans, scraps of newspaper, all of the usual findings. There’s no spray paint graffiti, and a security camera faces out into the busy street. Maybe they’ll get something useful from it, though she doubts it. In her experience, they’re usually for show, just a weak-hearted attempt to prevent crime or a way to deter violence on the premises of businesses who host rowdy crowds.

The scenery accounted for, Lir turns her attention to the misshapen body in the center. Nude and pale, the woman is covered from chest to knee in red that’s gone black with time, her unseeing eyes staring at the sky with a terror that won’t disappear until the medical examiner closes them on the slab. She walks towards her, offal and iron making her throat constrict against nausea, and the woman kneeling next to the corpse looks up at her approach with a friendly nod. Dressed in a black jumpsuit, she’s no doubt the M.E., or someone affiliated with them, and she stays quiet as Lir kneels to fully take in the mutilation inflicted on the victim.

While the rest of her is untouched, her throat is slashed, and she’s been split open from rib to hip, the skin and muscle peeled away to reveal her organs beneath. As far as Lir can tell, nothing has been removed, but something has certainly been added: a pendant rests on top of her stomach, glistening wetly in the daylight. “I pulled it out,” the maybe-M.E. says. “Dante wanted to see it.”

“Dante?” The woman tilts her head, and Lir turns to see a man speaking quietly but furiously to two uniforms. “Uh-huh.”

“You must be the new detective. My name’s Trish.” Lir looks blankly at the hand she holds out before taking it, and Trish’s handshake is firm and cordial. “I’m the medical examiner, coroner, whatever you’d like to call me. Your stiffs go onto my slab, anyway.”

Her dry humor draws an unwilling smile from Lir. “Okay. Trish. I’m Lir, Detective Thorne, take your pick as long as it’s not Lily. What can you tell me about our Jane Doe?”

“Not much, other than the obvious.” Trish points to the wound. “This was more than likely done pre-mortem, going by the amount of blood—there wouldn’t be so much of it if she was already dead—and there are a couple of hesitation marks at her throat. But as to which of those killed her, and how long ago, why she didn’t fight back, I won’t know all of that until I take her out of here.”

Lir considers all of that. “Why do you think she didn’t resist?”

“No self-defense wounds on the hands or arms. At least, not that I can see.”

“Mm. Your guys get pictures?”

“Not yet.” Trish smiles wryly. “Chief wanted you to see it first. It’s why Dante’s giving those two a lashing, though he’s just shooting the messengers at this point.”

“Right.” Standing, Lir peels off her gloves and drops them into the bag Trish holds out to her. “Guess I should go save ‘em.”

“Good luck.”

Lir snorts as she turns. On first sight, she’s already unimpressed with the so-called Dante. He’s handsome, sure, model or film star handsome even, with his straight nose and strong jaw dusted with a five o’clock shadow, but he’s dressed like a detective from a noir novel: pinstripe trousers and a matching vest, a red tie, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, brown Oxfords polished to a dull shine. The only things that break the illusion that he’s stepped off the silver screen are the watch at his wrist, the gleaming handcuffs clipped to the back of his belt, the radio at his hip, and the Beretta in its holster next to the radio. She more than half expects him to pull out a flask from somewhere and take a swig mid-tirade, but the only time he pauses is to draw in a breath.

“—how the  hell  he expects us to carry out an investigation when he’s waiting on some country bumpkin—”     “Howdy,” Lir drawls.

He whirls on her so fiercely that she instinctively rests her hand on the butt of her own gun, her pulse roaring into her ears. Dante seems to catch himself, straightening to his full height to scowl down to her, and she’s startled by the pale, frozen blue of his eyes. “You Detective Thorne?”

She shrugs. “Country bumpkin works, too.”

Dante doesn’t have the grace to look embarrassed that she overheard him. “I’m Detective Redgrave. Yes, like the city, no, I don’t give a shit. You done lookin’ at the body?”

“Sure.”

“You hear that, Trish?” Dante hollers. “Take her out.”

Behind her, she hears the telltale metallic clatter of a gurney being placed on the ground, followed by a bit of huffing, the rasp of a zipper, and more heavy breathing and the rustling of fabric. “Are you going to give me the details or am I going to guess?”

He barks a laugh. “Morrison sent you out here blind? Doesn’t surprise me. Sure, I’ll humor you.” With a grin that’s more mocking than genuine, he says, “Call came in at 7:45. Some poor schmuck takin’ out the trash found our body and had the decency to lose his breakfast outside of the crime scene before he called. No witnesses so far, no clothing, no I.D., just—” “What about the camera?” Lir points over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Can’t get to it until the owner shows up, which, according to his staff could be anytime between noon and midnight.”

“Alright. What do you need me to do?”

Dante considers her, that cruel smile still playing at his lips. “You want to help?” She nods. “Go keep those fuckers away.”

“The press?” His expression doesn’t slip, and she shakes her head. “That’s uniform work. Send them to—”

“Either deal with them or go home. I don’t have time to hold your hand.”

Just like that, he turns away in a clear dismissal. Lir stares at his broad back, her head throbbing from the night before and the rage that’s been building since she stepped into Morrison’s office: rage at the incompetence of her former chief, at the glares that had followed her once she entered the precinct, at Simmons’ earnest naivety, at whoever butchered a woman and left her in an alley like she was no better than the trash already there, at Dante himself. It’s familiar, and choking, the same burning that’s festered within her all her life with every snide, “Are you sure you can handle that? Wouldn’t you rather answer phones and let the men handle the rest?”

Instead of giving into her urge to punch him in his smug mouth, she inhales deeply and holds it until spots dance in her vision. Then she exhales and heads towards the bright yellow tape and, beyond it, the reporters and photographers craning their necks to get a look at the violence that’s visited their city. Two steps, and cold fingers curl around her wrist, sending numbness crawling along her skin from where they touch. Lir closes her eyes, counting to ten, and then she pulls free. Only on the other side of the tape does she look back, and the sight of a woman in a red dress with pale hair staring back at her sadly, her lips moving soundlessly, is exactly what she expected.  Definitely getting a drink, she muses.

The reporters are no different from the ones Lir dealt with in Fortuna, just more persistent. She repeats the phrase, “No comment,” so many times that it begins to lose meaning to her, until a uniform comes to relieve her and she’s able to hail a taxi. But she doesn’t go back to work straight away. The cabbie drops her at a liquor store, waiting at the curb while she hurries in to buy a mini bottle of vodka and hurries back out, and she cracks it open and takes it like a shot, stowing the empty bottle in her pocket as they reach the precinct. Lir tips him double, then heads inside, and the bustling and noise is so at odds with the sullen silence of only hours ago that she nearly stops in her tracks. It’s only force of will that keeps her moving to the stairs in the back and up them, to where her desk sits just outside of Morrison’s office.

Dante is seated at the desk across from hers, a phone clamped between his face and shoulder while he writes on a notepad. Lir waits until he hangs up to say, “You’re an ass.”

“Been called worse,” he replies distractedly. “Trish’s report get in yet?”

“Not in my inbox. You got a problem with me?”

“No offense, sweetheart, but city crime is different from country crime.”

“I’m from Fortuna. Not the mountains.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you dealt with a lot of purse snatching.”

Lir bristles. “Listen, jackass—”

“Go see Trish. See if she’s got a report yet or not.”

Her mouth hangs open. Then she stands, slamming her chair back into her desk loudly enough that Morrison looks out from his office with a frown, and stalks back the way she’d come, heading for the elevators. On one hand, she understands Dante’s shit attitude; she’s new to Red Grave, new to their force. On the other, she transferred from Homicide to Homicide, and there were enough of them in Fortuna that the sight of another isn’t going to send her running, and he’s a sour bastard with a chip on his shoulder who probably thinks he can do nothing wrong and his word is law. Which she’s only proving, she realizes, running his errands for him, and she jabs irritably at the button that will take her to the basement and the morgue. Next time he demands she do something, she’s going to tell him right where he can shove it. In the back of her mind, however, disappointment is bitter. So much, she thinks, for a fresh start.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dante #dante sparda #dmc oc #lirael thorne #lir #dmc fanfic #dmc fanfiction #writing #story #myfic #wires #dmcweek #dmcweek2020 #holy shit i'm so nervous for this lol #i've been working on it for over a month

[gaycodependency]

 are we alright? | listen here 

(before facemash to after the depositions); the beginning and the ongoing possibilities, with the unpredictable in-betweens.

tracks + lyrics i think relate to them (eduardo, mark, or both).

1. ribs - lorde.

..we can talk it so good, we can make it so divine, we can talk it good, how you wish it would be all the time.. this dream isn’t feeling sweet, we’re reeling through the midnight streets, and i’ve never felt more alone, it feels so scary getting old.. you’re the only friend i need, sharing beds like little kids, and laughing till our ribs get tough but that will never be enough.

2. start a riot - BANNERS.

i will march down an empty street like a ship into the storm. no surrender, no retreat. i will tear down every wall just to keep you warm, just to bring you home.. i will keep you safe and sound when there’s no one left to trust. will you take my hand? we can make our stand. if your world falls apart, i’d start a riot. if night falls in your heart, i’ll light the fire.. we’ll find each other’s arms. for your love, all you are, i’d start a riot..

3. i found - amber run.

i’ll use you as a warning sign, that if you talk enough sense then you’ll lose your mind. and i’ll use you as a focal point so i don’t lose sight of what i want. and i moved further than i thought i could, but i missed you more than i thought i would. and i’ll use you as a warning sign, that if you talk enough sense than you’ll lose your mind. and i found love where it wasn’t suppose to be, right in front of me..

4. 1000 times - hamilton leithauser + rostam.

i had a dream that you were mine, i’ve had that dream a thousand times.. i left my room on the west side, i walked from noon until the night. i changed my crowd, i ditched my tie. i watched the sparks fly off the fire.. my eyes were red, the streets were bright. those ancient years were black and white. the 10th of november, the year’s almost over. if i had your number, i’d call you tomorrow. if my eyes were open, i'd be kicking the doors in. but all that i have is this old dream i've always had. a thousand time, a thousand times, i had that dream a thousand times..

5. take me to church - hozier.

my lover’s got humor.. knows everybody’s disapproval. if the heavens ever did speak, she’s the last true mouthpiece.. “we were born sick” you heard them say it.. the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you. i was born sick, but i love it. command me to be well.. i’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife. offer me that deathless death, good god let me give you my life.. if i’m the pagan of the good times, my lover’s the sunlight.. we’ve a lot a starving faithful. that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work. take me to church, i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies.. no masters or kings when the ritual begins. there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin, in the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene. only then i am human, only then i am clean..

6. sign of the times - harry styles.

..we never learn, we’ve been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets, the bullets?  just stop your crying, it’s the sign of the times. we gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, it’ll be alright.. we don’t talk enough, we should open up.. will we ever learn? we’ve been here before. it’s just what we know..

7. oceans - seafret.

i want you. yeah, i want you. and nothing comes close to the way that i need you. i wish i could feel your skin, and i want you from somewhere within. it feels like there’s oceans between me and you once again. we hide our emotions under the surface and try to pretend but it feels like there’s oceans between you and me. i want you, and i always will. i wish i was worth. but i know you deserve. i know i’d rather drown than to go on without you, but you’re pulling me down. it feels like there’s oceans between you and me once again..

8. lava lamp - cuco.

someone’s out there waiting for me, i have to find her and tell her that i love her. you’re a million miles away. the bridge between winter and summer seem’s like a bummer, but it’s worth the wait. and i know you’ll shine the way with your lava lamp (lava lamp) in the middle of your room. from my window, i could see bright, blue light was shining deep like the sea on new year’s eve, wishing you were next to me. yesterday in LA, it was sunny but it rained in my room (in my room) when i wrote a song for- someone’s out there waiting for me, i have to find her and tell her that i love her. if only you’d hold me, and i wasn’t one billion miles away..

9. blank space - taylor swift.

nice to meet you, where you been? i can show you incredible things; magic, madness, heaven, sin. saw you there, and i thought “oh my god, look at that face, you look like my next mistake. love’s a game, wanna play?” new money, suit and tie, i can read you like a magazine. ain’t it funny? rumors fly and i know you heard about me. so, hey, let’s be friends, i’m dying to see how this one ends. grab your passport and my hand.. so it’s gonna be forever or it’s gonna go down in flames. you can tell me when it’s over if the high was worth the pain.. cause we’re young and we’re reckless, we’ll take this way too far. it’ll leave you breathless or with a nasty scar.. but i’ve got a blank space, baby, and i’ll write your name. cherry lips, crystal skies; i could show you incredible things, stolen kisses, pretty lies.. find out what you want.. wait, the worst is yet to come. oh no. screaming, crying, perfect storms. i can make all the tables turn. rose garden filled with thorns.. i get drunk on jealousy. but you’ll come back each time you leave ‘cause, darling, i’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream.. boys only want love if it’s torture, don’t say i didn’t, say i didn’t warn ya..

10. young & beautiful - lana del rey.

.. hot summer nights, mid-july when you and i were forever wild. the crazy days, city lights.. will you still love me when i got nothing but my aching soul?.. all that grace, all that body, all that face makes me wanna party. he’s my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds..

11. you get me so high - the neighborhood.

hope you don’t regret it, i pushed a lot back but i can’t forget it.. nobody seemed to hear us, but we said it. neither of us planned it, and for a long time i took it all for granted. i really thought we had it, but at the time it was more than i could manage so if we can leave it all behind us and meet in between. it would get me so high all the time.. would you come with me? wish i didn’t doubt it, i wish i never ever told you all about it. i just had to let you know, i never meant to hurt you though. i had all my motives, i didn’t know they wouldn’t mix with your emotions. i just had to reach my goals, never knew i’d need you though, so if we can agree to disagree and keep on reaching.. we should stick together, you’re my best friend, i’ll love you forever. we could be the greatest, doesn’t matter if we’re never rich or famous.. if you can just let me know if it’s okay to call you when i’m lonely.

12. strangers - halsey.

she doesn’t kiss me on the mouth anymore cause it’s more intimate than she thinks we should get. she doesn’t look me in the eyes anymore, too scared of what she’ll see, somebody holding me. when i wake up all alone, and i’m thinking of your skin, i remember, i remember what you told me. said that we’re not lovers, we’re just strangers, with the same damn hunger to be touched, to be loved, to feel anything at all.. she doesn’t call me on the phone anymore, she’s never listening, she says it’s innocent. she doesn’t let me have control anymore, i must’ve crossed a line, i must’ve lost my mind.. i miss the mornings with you laying in my bed, i miss the memories replaying in my head, i miss the thought of a forever, you and me, but all you’re missing is my body...

13. million dollar man - lana del rey.

.. i don’t know how you convince them and get them, boy. i don’t know what you do, it’s unbelievable. and i don’t know how you get over, get over someone as dangerous, tainted, and flawed as you.. i love you honey; i’m ready, i’m ready to go. how did you get that way? i don’t know. you’re screwed up and brilliant.. you got the world, but, baby, at what price? something so strange, hard to define. it isn’t that hard, boy, to like you or love you. i’d follow you, down, down, down; you’re unbelievable. if you’re going crazy, just grab me and take me. i’d follow you down, down, down; anywhere, anywhere.. i don’t know. you’re screwed up and brilliant, look like a million dollar man, so why is my heart broke?

14. somebody that i used to know - gotye ft. kimbra.

now and then, i think of when we were together. like when you said you felt so happy you could die. i told myself that you were right for me, but felt so lonely in your company. but that was love and it’s an ache i still remember.. so when we found that we could not make sense. well, you said that we would still be friends but i’ll admit that i was glad it was over. but you didn’t have to cut me off. make out like it never happened and that we were nothing. and i don’t even need your love but you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough. no, you didn’t have to stoop so low, have your friends collect your records and then change your number. i guess that i don’t need that though, now you’re just somebody that i used to know.. now and then i think of all the times you screwed me over, but had me believing it was always something that i’d done. but i don’t wanna live that way, reading into every word you say. you said that you could let it go and i wouldn’t catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know..

15. lurk - the neighborhood.

i want to be honest, i want to be bad. i want to destroy you, i want to move fast. i want the attention, i want all the cash.. i want to be faithful, i want to be raw. i want to be ignorant, i want to know all. i want to die someday, i want to live long. i want what i ask for, i get what i want. i’m thinking we should ride to a place that we don’t know, to a place where no one’s seen us before. i’m thinking you and i, better just go with the flow. last thing that we should do is go slow.. i think of the chances, i think that i’m wrong. i think to be thoughtful, i know that i’m not. you think i’m a fake, and i know you’re a fraud. i fuck ‘cause i need to, i fuck when i want. i’ll fuck you in love, even though it is not. i’ll fucking digest you one kiss at a time. you wish i was yours and i hope that you’re mine.. black and it’s white. everything’s white, but it’s blacker than i know. even blacker than the white of snow..

16.  closer - nine inch nails.

.. you let me complicate you. (help me..) i broke apart my insides. (help me..) i’ve got no soul to sell. (help me..) the only thing that works for me. help me get away from myself. i wanna fuck you like an animal, i want to feel you from the inside.. my whole existence is flawed. you get me closer to god. you can have my isolation. you can have the hate that it brings. you can have my absence of faith. you can have my everything. (help me..) you tear down my reason.. help me think i’m somebody else.. 

17. creep - scala & kolacny brothers. (cover)

when you were here before, couldn’t look you in the eye. you’re just like an angel, your skin makes me cry. you float like a feather in a beautiful world. i wish i was special, you’re so fucking special. but i’m a creep, i’m a weirdo. what the hell am i doing here? i don’t belong here. i don’t care if it hurts, i want to have control. i want a perfect body, i want a perfect soul, i want you to notice when i’m not around. you’re so fucking special, i wish i was special. but i’m a creep, i’m a weirdo. what the hell am i doing here? i don’t belong here. she’s running out the door. she’s running out. she run, run, run, run. whatever makes you happy, whatever you want. you’re so fucking special, i wish i was special. but i’m a creep, i’m a weirdo. what the hell am i doing here? i don’t belong here. i don’t belong here.

18. somebody to love - queen.

can anybody find me somebody to love? each morning i get up, i die a little. can barely stand on my feet. (take a look at yourself in the mirror and cry) take a look at yourself in the mirror and cry. lord what you do to me. i spent all my years in believing you, but i just can get no relief, lord. somebody (somebody), somebody (somebody), can anybody find me somebody to love? i work hard (he works hard) every day of my life. i work til’ i ache my bones. at the end (at the end of the day) i take home my hard-earned pay all on my own (goes home on his own).. til’ the tears run down from my eyes, lord.. i try and i try and i try but everybody wants to put me down. they say i’m going crazy, they say i got a lot of water in my brain. no, i got no common sense. (he’s got) i got nobody left to believe.. got no feel, i got no rhythm. i just keep losing my beat (you just keep losing and losing). i’m okay, i’m alright (he’s alright, he’s alright). i ain’t gonna face no defeat. i just gotta get out of this prison cell, someday i’m gonna be free, lord..

19. supercut - lorde.

in my head, i play a supercut of us. all the magic we gave off. all the love we had and lost. and in my head, the visions never stop.. but when i reach for you, there’s just a supercut. in your car, the radio up. in your car, the radio up. we keep trying to talk about us. i’m someone you maybe might love. i’ll be your quiet afternoon crush, be your violent overnight rush. make you crazy over my touch. but it’s just a supercut of us.. so i fall into continents and cars. all the stages and stars, i turn all of it to just a supercut. ‘cause in my head, in my head i do everything right. when you call, when you call i’ll forgive and not fight. because ours are the moments i play in the dark. we were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart.. we keep trying to talk about us. slow motion, i’m watching our love. i’ll be your quiet afternoon crush, be your violent overnight rush. make you crazy over my touch. but, it’s just a supercut of us.. ‘cause in my head, in my head, i do everything right. when you call, i’ll forgive and not fight. all the moments i play in the dark, wild and fluorescent, come to my heart..

20. sit next to me - foster the people

yeah, it’s over, it’s over.. got me praying, man, this hunger. feeling something rotten. last time i saw you said “what’s up?” and pushed right through. then i tried to catch you but we’re always on the move. and now it’s over, we’re sober. symptoms of the culture. and the night ain’t getting younger, last call’s around the corner. feeling kinda tempted and i’m pouring out the truth. just fading out these talkers ‘cause now all i want is you, just sayin’. come over here and sit next to me. we can see where things go naturally. just say the word and i’ll part the sea. just come over here and sit next to me and i’ll take you high. well, i ain’t frontin’ my intention, got your man outlined in chalk. it’s a midnight intervention, got no plans to make it stop. last time i saw you, said you wanna keep it light. but i’m here to tell you, i’m not trying to change your mind. it’s alright, it’s alright..

21. can’t get you out of my head - kylie minogue.

i just can’t get you out of my head. boy, your loving is all i think about. i just can’t get you out of my head. boy, it’s more than i dare to think about.. every night, every day, just to be there in your arms. won’t you stay? won’t you lay? stay forever and ever and ever and ever.. there’s a dark secret in me. don’t leave me locked in your heart. set me free, feel the need in me. set me free. stay forever and ever and ever and ever.. i just can’t get you out of my head.

22. i used to think that love was forever - koda.

pale winds flow in like a river. all my dreams are dying in the mud. all i know is painting pictures of you. and what remains in the dust falling at the starts better than falling in the dark. and i tore down my walls ‘cause you were all i’d ever want and i’ve got no more weapons i am bare down to the bone. and i’ve laid all my cards down ‘cause your hearts my only home. i used to think that love was forever. i used to think that love was forever before you. i used to think that love was forever but how could that be true now that i’m in love with you. cold winds flow like pleasure on my wounds and i will use your words to build my tomb. falling at the starts better than falling in the dark. and i tore down my walls ‘cause you were all i’d ever want. and i’ve got no more weapons i am bare down to the bone and i laid all my cards down ‘cause your hearts my only home.. i used to think that love was forever, i used to think that love was forever before you, i used to think that love was forever. but how could that be true now that i’m in love with you.

23. hit me baby one more time [feat. blu holiday] - j2 (cover).

oh baby, baby, how was i suppose to know? that something wasn’t right here. oh baby, baby, i shouldn’t have let you go. and now, you’re out of sight. show me how you want it to be, tell me, baby, ‘cause i need to know now what we’ve got. my loneliness is killing me, (and i) i must confess i still believe, still believe. when i’m not with you i lose my mind, give me a sign, hit me, baby, one more time. oh baby, baby, the reason i breathe is you. but, boy, you’ve got me blinded. oh pretty baby, there’s nothing i wouldn’t do. it’s not the way i planned it. show me how you want it to be. tell me, baby, ‘cause i need to know now what we’ve got..

24. when the party’s over - billie eilish. 

don't you know i'm no good for you. i've learned to lose you, can't afford to. tore my shirt to stop you bleedin' but nothing ever stops you leaving. quiet when i'm coming home and i'm on my own. i could lie, say i like it like that, like it like that.. don't you know too much already. i'll only hurt you if you let me. call me friend but keep me closer (call me back). and i'll call you when the party's over. quiet when i'm coming home and i'm on my own. and i could lie, say i like it like that.. yeah i could lie, say i like it like that, like it like that. but nothing is better sometimes. once we've both said our goodbyes. let's just let it go. let me let you go..

25. the night we met - lord huron.

i am not the only traveler who has not repaid his debt. i've been searching for a trail to follow again. take me back to the night we met. and then i can tell myself what the hell i'm supposed to do and then i can tell myself not to ride along with you. i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. take me back to the night we met. i don't know what i'm supposed to do. haunted by the ghost of you. oh, take me back to the night we met. when the night was full of terrors and your eyes were filled with tears. when you had not touched me yet. oh, take me back to the night we met. i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. take me back to the night we met. i don't know what i'm supposed to do. haunted by the ghost of you. take me back to the night we met.

#t a da... #tsnedit #mine: playlist #mine* #film: the social network #tsnlyrics* #?? it can be counted ig.. #mark x eduardo #otp: i want.. i need you

[cursewoodrecap]

Session 4: Heresy

Our cards for this session: The Hunter, The Knight, The Madness, The Heretic.

This week: I took EXCELLENT notes, probably because I was physically incapable of speaking and had to conduct all roleplay via telegram.

Back at Shoshana’s house, we crash for a long rest. Ser Balderich is convinced to take the only bed, because he’s spent the last forty-eight hours in a curse hole. Shoshana is surprised - and a little saddened, in a way - to see that his time in the supernatural darkness has not affected Ser Balderich seemingly at all, unlike her. Beggar Knights are granted strong protection from Rack, the god of suffering and mercy, and likely this is what helped him resist corruption.

Didn’t help him resist breaking his bones, though. He’s gonna stick around in Ovruch to heal and to protect the town. Shoshana warns him that her cats are probably going to stay here and be assholes, and he laughs it off. He’s fought the most terrible monsters known to man - cat-wrangling can be his next adventure! She laughs with him, but warns him that they are affected by the Curse - he may have to put them down, when they get too aggressive to save.

Ser Balderich takes the chance to lay down some wisdom on the young witch: “I’ve seen a lot since I started fighting the Curse. It can turn a man’s hands to claws, it can break his mind, but it cannot make you a monster unless you allow it. I have seen people barely recognizable as humanoid who have the noblest hearts. And I’ve seen men you wouldn’t blink at in the market with the most monstrous hearts of all. Don’t let anyone turn you into something you’re not.”

The man has INCREDIBLE Dad Energy. It’s so potent he almost immediately falls asleep in an armchair in front of the football game.

Meanwhile, Gral rolls a 19 and, in his own words, “wakes up in the morning feelin’ like P. Diddy.” 

Shoshana leaves a letter for Herschel the innkeeper, letting him know “I think she’s alive - I’m going to find her,” and then we get on the road to the town of Holzog, Ser Quentin Morozov’s base of operations.

The party is hustling along the road, being Super Quiet and Awkward because we’re all stoic assholes with secrets (not you, Valeria, you’re an angel and we’re glad you’re here). Then, rapid hoofbeats! Coming along a fork in the road, a company of lightly armored riders bearing the crest of a rook upon their shields thunders past us. Despite our absolutely terrible history rolls, the DM can’t resist telling us that these are Condotierri - mercenaries from Ventallus, known for being highly professional, highly skilled, and deeply cautious about any venture too dangerous to be worth their hire price. They seem to be headed to Holzog as well, just much faster.

Holzog is set in a valley, surrounded by huge craggy hills that the Curse has made dark and foreboding. We know it’s a much bigger town than Ovruch, sustained mostly by fishing on the large lake that butts up against it. There’s a strange smell on the breeze - it’s familiar to Gral, but he can’t quite place it, not with a perception check that low.

Awkward road conversation is made (”SO UH I SEE YOU’RE A LARGE LIZARD PERSON. HOW’S THAT GOING FOR YOU. WHERE YA FROM.”) but Valeria’s explanation of how she’s from Aurentium, the Golden City, the shining example of the post-Aquilian Empire!!! is interrupted by the sight of a big ol’ keep on the horizon, flying a flag with the crest of Holzog. Looks like a watchtower that’s been recently expanded. Soldiers are stopping a caravan of merchants and ushering them inside. We head on over.

A halfling woman in fancier armor than the rest of the soldiers introduces herself as Captain Claudia. “Road’s closed ‘till morning,” she tells us. “The mists are out.”

From the tower’s windows we can see a strange, shimmering purple mist has indeed descended on the town, purple and rippling. The hell is that?!

Captin Claudia says hell if she knows, but baroness’s orders are not to fuck with it, and the valley’s shut down until it’s gone. Usually takes 12 hours or so. Comes out of the lake.” The baroness of Holzog has established this roadhouse for travelers who are stuck. Claudia’s in charge, and she’s not above using her musket or kicking us out into the woods in order to keep the peace. She confirms the Condotierri we saw were hired by the baroness as extra muscle to guard the forts around the town - but they only answer to their captain, and they keep avoiding the rough jobs.

So we’re stuck here for the night. We go chat with the merchants - a Demish furrier shows us the weird cursed furs that are all the rage in fashion right now (this one’s purple! with spines!) and Valeria manages to buy some Fortified Demish Healing Wine off him - for discount price, because you’d hardly sell GOOD wine to these beer-swilling Valdian yokels, and Valeria, being a noble AND a dragonborn, rolls pretty darn well on her snob check. 

There’s a bookseller, too. Clem makes the practical decision of purchasing some journals published by Sturmhearst University about the latest research into the Curse. Valeria gets a beautifully illustrated heroic tale of the Peacock Knight, founder of the Knights Radiant. Shoshana, who has more money in her pocket than she’s had in maybe ever, giddily buys a dramatic Gallish pirate adventure. 

The door slams open, dramatically. “Why, Captain Claudia! I had heard the mists were up in the valley, and I did so hope you would be the one to host us this night!” Two humans stride in. First comes a lean man with a goatee and a big hat with a feather in it, his white leather cape falling over a gleaming sword. Behind him comes a muscular, angry-looking woman, with similar hair and features, lugging a huge lumpy sack and two nasty-looking warhammers. Both prominently wear the symbol of a sword and hammer crossed over a sun - the symbol of the Knights Radiant.

“Ah! Do not fear, huddled citizens of Valdia! You will not need to pass this night in fear of the things that lurk beyond the walls, for the Knights Radiant are here!”

Captain Claudia tells him to can it and go help his sister carry stuff. The gentleman in the majestic hat mourns that sadly, duty keeps us apart, and yet - oh hey, I have an audience.

“Who here would like to hear how my sister and I slew the werewolf of Vanderburg?!” he declares with a flourish to the gawking merchants, and us. “My sister Fiona and were in Vanderburg when we heard the distinctive howl, the locals were terrified of the beast, who had been taking cattle and stalking them for weeks. We laid our trap! Knowing the wolf preferred beautiful long haired women, we obtained a fancy dress! My sister hid in the bushes while I played bait. Then, I drew my silver blade!” It’s all very dramatic. His blade glows as he waves it around dramatically. The descriptions get flowery. The story is very heroic. “So you need not fear anything tonight – oh. There’s already knight-looking people here. Well, you still don’t need to fear anything because I am HERE!”

Thanks, All Might. We continue to awkwardly look like a blatantly obvious adventuring party, which has clearly thrown Mr. Hero off his game a little.

His large, intimidating sister taps him on the shoulder and rapidly motions to him in sign language. “OK fiiiine, I won’t tell the story of how we cleansed the cemetery of ghouls – Fiona, don’t speak for them, I’m working here. Remember, sister, our mission does not end when the beast is slain, but when spirits are lifted!”

The aforementioned Fiona looks at us, pulls out a wineskin, takes a slug of alcohol, and offers it up. Clem identifies it immediately as primo, grade-A trench hooch. Cooked in a dented greathelm, made of spit and armor polish. Clem happily accepts a swig of what most folks would identify as industrial solvent. 

Fiona’s theatrical brother notices Valeria’s new Peacock Knight book and decides to come bother miss – uh, Kyr? Kyr Dragonborn, please allow me to introduce myself, I’m SER FLYNN FAIRGOLD OF THE KNIGHTS RADIANT, DEFENDER OF THE PEOPLE, PROTECTOR OF VALDIA. My lovely sister is SER FIONA FAIRGOLD. She has neglected to take any additional titles. THE HUMBLE. I gave her that one.

”What’s he in town for? “My sister and I are here upon a dangerous quest! A noble seeker of truth tasked us to investigate and retrieve a-” He notices Fiona making a cut-throat gesture. “Yes, we are delivering things to a knight of much renown!”

Us: “Is it Ser Quentin Morozov? Because he’s the guy we’re gonna go bother.”

Flynn: “...Why yes! Ser Morozov is a frequent employer of ours! He dispatches us, his most trusted agents, as far as possible! He knows that the further we travel from him, the more evil we defeat and hopes we raise. Honestly, I usually check in on our uncle while our sister talks to him. While you’re in Holzogh, check out the Greencloak Inn, my uncle runs it-”

Shoshana begins to make conversation about knowing guys who run inns named after wars with elves. (Greencloak being a term for Kevan soldiers.) Gral tries to ask Fiona about her travels, but she just points to her throat, which is covered in thick burn scars. We’re all settling in for a night’s conversation when there’s a banging at the doors, and Captain Claudia shouting “nO DON’T OPEN THE...gates, dammit.”

A group of men pour in, uniformed in rough white clothes bound with chains. They bear a banner with the image of bloody chains, and their leader wears a thin blindfold over scarred eyes and carries a wicked-looking thorned whip.

He intones, “REJOICE, CITIZENS. THE GODS HAVE SPOKEN TO ME. WITHIN THIS FORTRESS LIES ONE DEEPLY TOUCHED BY EVIL. A BEING WHO HAS BOUND THEMSELVES TO THE DARKEST POWERS. THEY LURK AMONG YOU! BUT REJOICE, FOR WE HAVE COME, TO MAKE THEM FACE THE JUSTICE OF THE GODS.”

Shoshana immediately rolls for stealth and dives behind the largest available Clem.

These, we know, are the Penitent Knights: militant devotees of Rack that fanatically slay anyone deemed to be sinful, in order to excise the Curse from among the people. They are...not known for remembering the “mercy” part of their god’s whole shtick. 

“LET THE EVILDOER OR ANY WHO KNOW OF THEM STEP FORTH, THAT WE MAY BE ABOUT OUR HOLY BUSINESS.”

Valeria immediately uses her Divine Sense to detect whether there are, actually, any Fiends among us. Nobody pings the radar, though our wrapped tapestry is a little suspect, but there’s a slight whiff of...something?...from the Fairgolds, who are beginning to look just a little nervous. Especially emanating from Fiona’s back and shoulder?

We all simultaneously remember that Fiona was carrying a huge mysterious sack earlier, like a buff warrior Santa. HMM. The bag’s nowhere to be seen, though - she put it somewhere in the keep while Flynn was telling stories.

Meanwhile, Valeria is not about to put up with these creeps going all Spanish Inquisition on a bunch of innocent merchants, and stands up to reveal her impressive presence. “None here are any sort of fiend!”

“DO YOU SPEAK TRUE, OR ARE YOU A DECEIVER?”

“I’ve taken my oaths, I am no deceiver!” Valeria rolls an excellent persuasion check and looks Very Knightly and Trustworthy. Everyone in the room is on her side. Well, except the captain of the creeps:

“AND YET I KNOW THAT WITHIN THIS FORTRESS A VILE HERETIC RESIDES. MEN! SEARCH THE PLACE FOR SIGNS OF HERESY.“

Valeria: “There’s no need for any of that.”

“I WILL NOT SEE JUSTICE UNDONE.”

“Whatever you’re looking for isn’t here!”

“AND YET I KNOW THAT IT IS. UPON MY AUTHORITY AS AN AGENT OF THE ARCHCLERIC OF RACK, I DEMAND TO SEARCH THIS FACILITY AND DISPENSE THE JUSTICE OF RACK.”

Valeria, also being an agent of Rack’s justice, thinks this guy is full of crap and tells him in no uncertain terms to get lost. Gral, Clem, and both Fairgolds decide to assist by Looming Intimidatingly. They’re very good at it.

“VERY WELL. GOOD PEOPLE, THIS KNIGHT OF THE ROSE HAS DECLARED RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR SAFETY THIS NIGHT. LET ANY EVIL THAT BEFALLS THIS PLACE BE UPON HER HEAD.” With that ominous proclamation, the Knights Penitent shuffle back outside the gates. Captain Claudia wastes absolutely zero time making sure everything is locked and barred.

“Yeah, sorry you had to see that. They creep me right the heck out,” she tells us. Out of sight of the merchants, she motions to us surreptitiously. “But there’s something you should see.”

Flynn: “UM, my dearest Claudia-”

Claudia: “Shut it, Flynn, I think the Knight of the Rose has the right to know.”

As she leads us back towards the dungeon-y part of the keep, she berates Flynn further: “Dammit, Fairgold, I’ve got people here who are my responsibility. If you knew they were following you-”

She takes us back to the keep’s single jail cell. Inside is a battered, emaciated elf, thoroughly bound and gagged, and unconscious to boot. He’s covered in tattoos, and even the idiots among us can tell the symbols are fiendish in nature. Clem recognizes what he is on sight. Back during the Ascension war, there were members of Raspult’s cult - who he gave free reign to do all evil, on the reasoning that once he was king of the gods, he would forgive them for everything and anything done in his name - called the Marked. They would tattoo themselves with sacrificial blood and demonic symbols, mad-eyed cultists able to summon demons by making themselves bleed. The worst part of battling them: wounding them could just as easily summon the demons as if the cultist had done it themself. 

Clem is not best pleased. “Who brought him here?!”

Flynn: “Welllllll...that would be us. See, Ser Morozov sent us to investigate reports of a demon summoner. We found him, slew some of his imps, and my sister Fiona choked him out. We’ve been tasked to bring him back for interrogation; Ser Morozov believes that followers of Raspult may have information on how the Curse came to be.”

Clem, who has seen combat with these bastards, is incensed. “So you brought him here, to a keep full of innocent people? He has an ARSENAL tattooed onto his skin!” Gral, who has not personally fought a Marked, claims he can access memories of those who fought them through the Orcish Allsoul, and that yes, they are absolutely that bad.

“He’s drugged unconscious, it’s one night-”

“If - WHEN - he gets lucky, just once, everyone here could die!”

“Well, we couldn’t let the Penitents get him! If they found him, they’d drag him out in public and whip him until he bleeds to death with their chains!”

We all pause a moment, to contemplate just how Super Absolutely Not Good that scenario would be.

Clem’s still not having it. “So you brought him INSIDE a stronghold filled with civilians? When he gets free, their blood will be on your hands,” she hisses, filled with contempt.

We all agree that even though it’s one night, someone will stand guard. We can’t all fit into the small jail room, so we’ll take shifts. Whoever is on guard will take our magical horn, so they can sound the alarm the second anything happens.

Flynn and Valeria take first watch, and roll just absolutely terrible on all their perception checks. They hear a noise in the other room, and Flynn goes to investigate. Valeria promptly gets clubbed over the head with a blackjack.

Two Penitents have snuck inside and are making a beeline for the now-awake elf in the jail cell. Roll for initiative, everyone, it’s ON.

Clem is woken up by the magic horn and Nat 20′s on initiative out of sheer rage, and everyone else is woken up by Clem’s vehement cussing. The Penitents get some damn good hits in on Flynn and Valeria, but with Clem and Fiona crashing in as extra tanks and Gral and Shoshana sniping spells from behind, neither one makes it into the cell. The bound elf is struggling and making noise, but hasn’t managed to get free or summon anything.

Clem immediately turns on the Fairgolds, punching Flynn in the face and spitting that this is exactly why the Marked should never have been left alive! I told you, and it’s been what, an hour?! Now Clean. Up. Your. MESS.

Fiona signs to her brother that the rest of the Penitent Knights have been sighted outside, waiting for the prisoner. We all know that we can’t let them have him, they’ll release the demons on his skin. Clem argues that we should do now what we should have done two hours ago: kill him immediately.

Clem Valeria, a hint of the Hunt’s corruption in her expression, concurs.

Gral stalks up to the cell, growling at the Marked for his crimes. “Defiler of our ruined lands, we have killed your god and we will kill you too. If you struggle we will kill you faster.” His Words of Terror ability chillingly cows the tattooed elf into submission.

Shoshana quietly asks if this means we’re interrogating the elf, or if we can get on with it already - because, after all, a sorcerer can kill without ever making their target bleed.

Seeing no objection, she uses the rest of her spell slots to repeatedly Chromatic Orb him to death with cold damage. Clem must roll a will save when seeing a humanoid die - albeit super-rapidly - from the elements, but succeeds with a stony glare of contempt toward the cultist.

Once she’s done, she coldly looks back at the rest of the gathered warriors. “See? This,” she says, gesturing to the dead elf, “is why you should just put things like me DOWN, when you have the chance.” She stalks off into the keep.

Clem stares down the Fairgolds and then similarly storms off in a rage, leaving Gral and Valeria to figure out what to do with the bodies. 

Though the tattoos have become inert now that the cultist is dead, the Fairgolds still want to bring the body to Ser Quentin - Speak With Dead can grant the Cursebreakers a limited amount of interrogation, at least. But the Penitents outside aren’t going to leave without proof their quarry is dead. 

Gral sends their leader a Message cantrip: “Inquisitor, you have breached our trust and peace by sending your agents here, but we do not want further conflict. We have the corpse of the fiend you seek.”

They meet the Penitents at the gate and show them the body.  “I apologize for my men, they were…overeager,” says the Inquisitor. Upon seeing the frozen body: “The god’s justice has been done this night. Justice…can be cold. Thank you for seeing it my way. Do you have my men?”

Well, uh, technically, yes? Gral and the fort’s soldiers give them the bodies. The Inquisitor doesn’t even look particularly bothered by his men’s deaths. 

Just as Gral is going back inside the gates, though, he hears something, carried on the mists. A terrible, familiar sound. He immediately dashes inside, calling to Close The Fucking Gates (the guards were already on it, they are barricaded as HECK).

Meanwhile, Valeria tracks down Shoshana, who is curled in a ball in a corner somewhere. She sits down next to her - not quite crowding, but close enough to touch. “That...thing was nothing like you. You know that, right? He chose that, over and over again.”

Shoshana’s not comforted. “Yeah, well, I knew people who wouldn’t have chosen what they did, until the Curse changed ‘em.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“You think those were the first cats I ever adopted?” Shoshana asks. “I’ve had to put them down, when they got so fucked up and aggressive that they were just little monsters. Eventually the Curse wins, every time.”

She leans on Valeria’s shoulder. “It’s gonna happen to me eventually. Just...minimize the damage, you know?”

“It doesn’t have to happen. You can choose differently. You’ve been choosing differently.”“

“If I’m lucky. If I keep getting lucky. And...I just want you to know. When the time comes and you have to do it, I’m not mad or anything.”

Clem finds her way to the courtyard and drinks alone all night. 

On those depressing notes, the morning comes! A troop of Condotierri ride by and declare that the mists have cleared. Captain Claudia shooes everyone out of the roadhouse, thanks for coming, safe travels, BUH-BYE. 

We walk with the Fairgolds and make it to Holzog by mid-morning. The Condotierri at the gates give us the hairy eyeball but don’t stop us, probably because we’re with Flynn and Fiona. We head to the old mining office that the Cursebreakers have taken as their headquarters, while Flynn bounces off to arrange rooms at his uncle’s inn and avoid talking to Ser Quentin.

A sly-looking fellow in a long coat, holding a book with an eye on the front, greets us at the door. This is Contractor Darius, a Cursebreaker Knight using the title of a Celestial Warlock of Torme. He has a white bird familiar who we immediately, in reference to a previous campaign, dub Daikon. Darius leads us inside.

Ser Quentin Morozov is a gaunt elf with silver spectacles and a bandolier of knives across his chest, examining a wall of maps covered in pins and strings. “Ah, Fiona,” he says. “Did your brother learn to cast Hold Person?”

She shakes her head.

“Then you have brought me a corpse instead of a prisoner.” His disdain is palpable, but we explain what happened. It takes him a moment to remember who the hell Shoshana is, despite meeting her only a few days ago - he finds the correct journal entry: mild corruption, unlikely to be a threat. Anyway: he’s happy to hear we’ve rescued Ser Balderich (and entirely unsurprised at the other knight’s foolhardiness, and rather intrigued with the gory tapestry we’ve brought him. He’ll certainly have to interview all of us about the Hunt.

Gral inquires about the Mist, implying that he might know something about it. Here’s what the Cursebreakers have: Darius has studied it. It rises out of the lake and seems to spread, wandering irrespective of wind. Living things caught in it get corrupted, maybe with lingering effects. Monsters and beasts seem to roam within it. It originates within the lake, and the fish in the lake have shown signs of corruption. All travel is forbidden when the mist is out, by order of the Baroness - a wise policy, in Ser Quentin’s opinion.

This is unsatisfying to Gral, who anxiously insists he has to have an audience with the Baroness about the Mist.

Meanwhile, Clem inquires with Ser Quentin whether he is familiar with a group of Kevan soldiers known as the Red Hand - she’s a former member. Indeed, he’s worked with them before. One of the more excellent entourages he’s hired. He assures her that he last saw them unharmed, but with a strange twist. 

He had taken them on an expedition to Mornheim, the territory ruled by Ser Balderich’s family, known for its apple orchards and its extensive necropolis. Before the Curse, Mornheim had been famous in that its lands spawned no undead, so many wealthy and noble families would send their dead to be buried there, unbothered by magic. And then the Curse hit, and that streak broke, and now there’s a LOT of undead there due to the extensive burial grounds. 

When Ser Quentin had taken the Red Hand on an expedition to fight the undead in Mornheim and investigate the catacombs, a member of the party had been separated from the group during an ambush. Ser Quentin would have left the young man for dead, but his comrades insisted on going back for him.

“They returned with their companion the next day, but there was something strange about him. He was very secretive around me. Hid things from me – and you must be very good to be able to hide things from me. Shortly afterward, they announced their intention to leave my service. I did have some of them followed. Some of them left Valdia and headed south to the Crownlands or Keva. Others went different directions throughout the Greatwood. I do not have evidence to say yet, but part of my expedition to Mornheim is to figure out what happened. Rather uncharacteristically unprofessional that they didn’t tell me.”

Ser Quentin gives us a monetary reward for saving Ser Balderich and bringing him the tapestry, and asks us to sign on for his expedition to Mornheim to investigate what caused the undead to rise, and what happened to the Red Hand. Clem is, obviously, interested, but Gral is far more interested in the mists.

Ser Quentin pulls some strings and gets Gral his audience with the Baroness. Gral and Valeria go in - Clem’s not interested, and Shoshana is pretty sure they don’t just let peasants in there. Darius escorts them in, to a small audience room in which the Baroness is working. There are guards and clerks and scribes there, doing their work. The Baroness is a beautiful tiefling woman with royal blue skin, pitch-black eyes, and four horns, one set curling forwards and the others pointing back. She wears a royal purple gown and a simple silver circlet as a symbol of office. 

The Baroness Francesca von Holzogh addresses Gral with a posh Ventallan accent. “Is this another entreaty from your Duke to join his forces?”

It is not. Gral instead brings up the mist, and asks her if she is aware of the theory that the Curse has its own agenda. She affirms that Ser Quentin has shared the theory with her. 

“The Curse has not only its own agenda but its own Champions,” says Gral. “I heard the cry of its Champion last night in the mist. We need to talk.”

-fade to black-

#session recap #holzog #valeria argent #clem haxan #gral omokk'duu #shoshana bat chaya #flynn fairgold #fiona fairgold #quentin morozov #contractor darius