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greycaelum · 6 months

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Ok im gonna drop this here for u to write it whenever u want,cause its been hunting me

Royalty au where gojo and reader are living happily,that is until someone poisons his queen when they're having dinner together.

She drinks the wine,and suddenly falls to the ground while throwing up blood and blood running from her eyes. Shoko manages to save her and geto holds gojo back so he doesnt do anything stupid. But when his queen wakes up she's really weak so shoko tells gojo about a flower that'll heal her up,so gojo leaves in order to search for it.

But when he's back,geto leads him to the flower garden the queen loves and he finds her among the flowers,a little better and seeing her not on deadbed has him running toward her,lifting her up and spinning while both of them laugh and kiss

Happy ending

Scribbles & Doodles—Lotus Tears

—Elven Emperor Gojo Satoru X Human Empress Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

His azure orbs stare as you reach to cup his cheeks with a slight understanding frown painting your brows. It doesn't help that you are wearing the other pair of purple robes. It made his belly warm, and his chest swelled with pride. You are pairing... He was the only one who could wear the purple robes since he was born, a lone star, but not anymore. And that was enough to make his heart skip a beat. "Will you be back for dinner?" Your tone carried hope and joy into his day. He doesn't understand why he has to part with you every day... He heaved a sigh hoping the day turns to dusk soon so he can hold you again to his heart's content. "For you, always, My Flower."

𑁍 Genre: historical fantasy, elves/faes, dark magic if you squint, interracial marriage

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (4.3k)— poison, mad Satoru, elven traditions and cultures, fluff, angst, comfort, implication of major character death, mating bonds, talks of rebirth

𑁍 ✒️☕: Hi to the person who sent this ask. Pardon the very long wait, but I loved writing this one, I just need to say your ask is one of my fave ideas for elf Satoru so I tweaked some things, fantasy tropes are my favorite to write to escape canon~ Grey,

At night when you lay in their bed, your head atop his chest, he cannot sleep a wink for he has forever to spare and only a lifetime with you in his arms. For such a fragile flower, even a man who has grown bleak and untouched over the long passage of time, Satoru cannot help but stroke your head gently, scaring the pixies who would try to sneak in to soak with his mate's presence. He doesn't know if it's a good thing or bad that his mate is loved by the small faes. But one thing is for sure, he doesn't delight that they are trying to pry you awake from his arms. It's no secret he doesn't like sharing... especially when it's about you.

For a human to become the Empress of the High Courts is an unheard thing. Improbable would be the word. And you do not need to know what methods Satoru used to make this happen. Because you already knew that behind his delicate beauty, lies the prickly thorns that wield the absolute power over nature. There is a reason why he was able to rule undisputedly in the indifferent flow of nature over the passage of time.

When he married you, he knew he would uproot the earth and supplant it again and again to give whatever you desired. He is the supreme ruler and Emperor of the High Courts and would only sheath his indifference in the presence of his Empress. He has broken down the millennial walls covering his heart and found himself enthralled by the maiden who never feared the Dark Woods. She found beauty in the mystery of the borders, and he found solace in her presence. She has grown to be his beloved Flower.

Fortunately for you, even as a born human, you have adapted to the faes far quicker. Learning their language and making up for your lack of magic, you learned diplomacy. It was not easy to learn such an intricate affair, but fortune has smiled upon you, with Satoru, who has boundless knowledge of the matter to be your tutor.

"Is this adequate enough?" Satoru hopefully looked at you in the mirror and the craft he had finished for a satisfactory answer.

"Satoru, we are not going to any gathering, are we?" You chuckled as you sat in front of the golden mirror while Satoru stood behind, holding an ivory comb in his hand as he carefully brushed your silky tresses. Small flowers adorned your hair like trinkets as he wove them skillfully into a braid. At this point, your handmaidens have lost their job, with your mate attending to almost everything you need unless he is away for the court.

"At least let me do this before I leave for my duties." He brought the tip of your hair to his lips, kissing it as he stared at you, a longing look on his face. This prompt you to turn the chair and face the elven emperor.

"Will you be back for dinner?" Your tone carried hope and joy into his day.

He doesn't understand why he has to part with you every day... He heaved a sigh hoping the day turns to dusk soon so he can hold you again to his heart's content.

"For you, always, My Flower." Satoru tilted your chin and pressed a kiss on your forehead. "I do not wish to leave." He grumbled and connected your forehead, staring right into your eyes.

Your soft chuckle fluttered through his ears as you reached to cup his cheeks and stare into his eyes. A sense of tranquility floated in your orbs bringing his heart into a puddle of cotton.

"I will wait for you at dinner, Satoru. So the earlier you finish the earlier we see each other. Alright?"

"Alright, as you wish." Satoru sighed and kissed the tip of your nose. "The things you make me do..."

He never thought he would one day sit under the shade of foliage with his Empress on his lap, reading through some parchments while he pilfered some wildflowers to braid her hair. Or to walk while gently pulling the reins of his equine, leading the elk through safe passages whilst you ride on the back. Things he never imagined and things he never thought he would do. But the second you came it all seemed natural for him to indulge you in every way possible.

You are like a brittle glass flower to him that he cannot help but wrap you in the most flawless silks and softest ermine furs. You evoke in him a firm sense of fierce protectiveness.

So imagine the horror and derangement inside him when you were still smiling and talking with him at the dinner table but suddenly blood flowed down your nose, followed by a series of coughs drawing blood from your throat as you dropped to the floor, desperately gasping for air.

If it wasn't for his friend Suguru, a Dragon Lord who he has grown with, who happened to visit the very same day only to pin him down in his rampage of killing the perpetrators hiding in the imperial kitchen staff, perhaps one-fourth of the castle must've already been slaughtered.

All he could see was red. The burning flames consuming the imperial castle and the wilting forest mirrored the despair in his heart. He couldn't hear that his people were wailing for him. All he could ever see was his mate dying each second from the potent poison coursing in her bloodstream.

"Don't touch her!"

He snarled with pure frenzy when Shoko tried to reach out to your unmoving body in his arms.

"Satoru, Shoko is only going to heal her. Your mate needs help." Suguru tried to reason with the livid, elven emperor cradling the unmoving body of his bleeding empress. "She would not do anything to her, only help her."

Suguru could see how unfocused and distraught the dark blue eyes of his friend were, so far from his usual calm and regal sense. Satoru's eyes were bloodshot red. Thankfully, he didn't move when Shoko reached out again to heal his mate.

A faint color of life returned to your face, but you were still as pale as alabaster, still unconscious. The fire consuming the woods slowly died down... A slight sense of sanity returned to Satoru, who held you close, ready to hide you from the world if not for Shoko's words.

"She's in moratorium state... I've only managed to stabilize her body and freeze the poison to stop it from spreading further. Right now, we need to find an antidote... Or else she will only have seven days to live. For now, let's take the Empress to a safe place." Shoko pinched the bridge of her nose as she looked back to the fire slowly dying down, leaving shared trees and ashes. "And fix the chaos you have ignited, Your Majesty, the Emperor."

There are, but severely few times he let his emotions overcome him. He could count it in his hand. But ever since that sight of your throwing up blood, Satoru experienced a myriad of emotions he thought he was never capable of.

Fear... Despair... Uselessness... and most of all heartbreak...

You don't know how many millions of times his soul has shattered in every second he held your cold hand whilst he channeled all healing spell he knows into your body as you sleep on the cradle of the sacred tree cushioned by wildflowers and vines dangling down the archaic branches of the colossal wood. It seems you're merely asleep, but it feels like it's been forever since he last saw your eyes. The reality is that day by day, you are losing your life while all he can do is sit here, rooted in place, too afraid that if he steps away, he might not see you again.

"Your Majesty..." Shoko came forward. The Emperor has been sitting here for three days straight beside his dying mate in silence holding her hand, unmoving, and would attack anyone who dares to step one foot closer to the lying Empress. The court matters have been neglected, with only the elders holding the court together in his absence. The woodlands are closely related to the essence of the Emperor. The depression of his heart manifested in the woods, which gradually lost the green leaves and were replaced by withered branches...

"I have found a possible cure for the Empress."

Shoko had never felt strong empathy, but she did feel a bit of ache for her friend when he raised his head at her, almost pleading with his bloodshot eyes.

"Speak."

"Do you remember the Sacred Tombs of Tvar?"

The sacred burial grounds of the late Empresses. It's deep-seated in the heart of the Mountain of Hanging Tombs, guarded by the mythical beasts his forefathers have created to protect the resting place of the late Imperial Rulers.

"What about it?" Satoru has only been there once when his Imperial Father has taken him to visit his late Mother. It's a mystical mountain filled with ancient elements, from the creatures to the plants, that can only be heard in folklore.

"For high faes like us, the poison the Empress has induced was nothing serious. But to humans, it is lethal." Shoko sighed. "The spell I cast was only a valve to keep the poison at bay until we can find an antidote. On the seventh day, when the sun rises, the spell will cease to exist, and the poison will corrode her bo—"

"Tell me, what should I do? Anything Shoko. I would kill if I had to." The bones on his knuckles protruded with his clenched fists. The Emperor cut her off. He would not hear her say such ominous words about his mate's life.

He would uproot the earth to find anything that can cure you. Anything.

"Killing might be going too far, but it's not impossible." Shoko took out from her robe a parchment containing a sketch of what seemed like a flower and handed it to her Emperor. She never slept over the three days in a desperate search for any cure. "There's a flower that can only be seen in the Sacred Tombs of Tvar that may be able to save the Empress. As we all know, only the direct descendant of the Imperial Family can enter the Mountain of Hanging Tombs."

The Mountain of Hanging Tombs is as ominous as the name implies. It's a mountain range covered with black mist and ferocious mythical animals and exotic plants. It's not that only the direct descendants of the Imperial Elven Bloodline can enter the mountains, but the lower beasts residing on the foot of the mountains refrain from attacking an imperial descendant since they are born from the first Emperor's blood as well. No ordinary fae can survive these mythical beasts, and could only result in death. Thus, it has become known not to venture deep into the mountains.

Satoru, however, wasted no time to cross the valleys leading to the burial grounds. He needs to find that flower.

Lotus Tears...

It is said that the flower can heal any illness. However, it's impossible to scour for the elusive flower, which roots deep only in the burial grounds of the Empresses and leave unscathed from the toxic plants and mythical animals on top of the Mountain of Hanging Tombs that will attack him at any given second.

"Why do you always put the flower on my left ear? I'm not yet married." You asked him during one of the days he stayed longer to watch over you as you searched for some wild, beautiful flowers in the woods.

Satoru stared at the magenta lilacs he conjured from his hands and tucked them into your left ear.

"You look beautiful in any shade of purple..." It matches the color of his robe.

You pursed your lips and huffed clearly not satisfied by his vague answer.

"You didn't answer my question, Satoru."

He chuckled at your angry face, bopping your nose, making you annoyed as you tried to punch him clumsily. The little girl still has the same pout even as she bloomed into a prim and proper lady. It was too adorable even to be called 'angry.' He jumps down the tree and walks up to you, bringing the tip of your hair to his lips for a soft parting salutation.

"Next time... I will tell you, My Precious Flower." With that, he took you to the borders of the human village and the dark woods, as your Mother was already looking for you. He watches you run into the light while slowly walking back into the shadows.

Maybe... He should have never forced this fate on you. You may have called on him in desperation to flee from the humans chasing after you, but he, being the one who knew better, should have returned you to your realm rather than letting his selfishness devour him and claim you as his mate. If he had done so, then you wouldn't have met this predicament.

You wouldn't have been lying in your blood, cold like a corpse...

"Where is she?" Satoru's heart felt like it was dying when he saw that your body was gone from the bed of the sacred tree. "Where is my mate?! Shoko!"

Did he lose you? Did he come too late?

He stared at the blue lotus he so carefully dug out of the perilous mountain despite the throbbing pain on his shoulders after a chimera managed to bite him before he could slay it.

No, you cannot leave him like this... Oxygen left his lungs, and his feet staggered, unable to support the weight of heaven, crushing his soul. His vision is going black, not like this. He barely got to dote on you. Barely got to drown you with the love he has secretly hidden all these years. No, no, no. Satoru's throat ran dry. He wants to scream as if the tearing of his heart wasn't enough to shout his despair.

The forest closely linked to his essence slowly wilted as if joining their Emperor in his mourning. The leaves slowly dried up. The flowers closed, and the vines started shrinking to twigs. His sorrow is mirrored by nature.

His mind went black, his heart slowly crumbled in every passing second that his eyes could not see you. Why did the gods despise him to tear apart the only joy he has ever touched for what seems like an eternity?

"Satoru!" Suguru found him in haste after the forest slowly grew darker and darker.

Who knew that his apathetic friend could have this vast amount of emotions to turn the lush evergreen forest into a barren land? Suguru wasted no time to drag what seemed to be a lifeless Satoru into a maze-like garden.

Shoko was there. She immediately snatched the mystical lotus from the Emperor. Satoru could care. All things pale in comparison to his mate... All things. He dropped to his knees, holding onto your hand.

"Y-Y/n?" Satoru's throat was parched as he saw your sleeping body, with the wilting grass around, as if you were truly taken away into the underworld... This was your favorite garden... All flowers in here, he has grown with his own hands. Not it seems like he has planted those flowers only to send you off to the afterlife. "No, you can't do this to me, My Flower... I would lose my mind." He muttered like a madman, bringing your cold hands to rub against his cheeks, desperately searching for any signs of warmth but finding nothing...

Suguru tried to pry him away from your frail body, but his malevolence met those who tried to separate you from him until the Dragon Lord had no choice but to use all means to knock Satoru out...

The last thing he saw was your sleeping face as he desperately begged his eyes not to close... He needs to see you, to be beside you... to hold you...

"Satoru...?" You were both sitting under the shade of a magnolia tree with his head on your lap, eyes closed from the glaring sun, meanwhile, you intertwined his lustrous hair into a loose braid, tucking little flowers in your masterpiece.

"Hmm?" It was one of the days when he had enough time to traverse the hills with you and meet other fae tribes so you may have time away from the Imperial Courts.

"Promise me that if the memories we have together start to hurt... you will forget me."

His eyes opened in a split second, and he looked back with furrowed brows only to meet your small smile.

"That is nonsense. I would never wish to forget you. You are my mate." Satoru sat straight and took your hand in his. "What led you to this ominous thought, My Flower? Do not think of such things, we are bonded for eternity."

You gently shake your head.

"You're an elf... I'm a human. Our life span runs differently. Some day... You will have to remember me longer than you have held me..." The bitterness of your eyes was quickly concealed as you closed them. "That's simply the order of nature..."

Satoru was tongue-tied... He cannot face that reality yet... Not yet... If ever the Lady of Light is listening to him, he prays that the sun and moon slow down... Forever never seems to be enough...

Forever will never be enough...

"Satoru...?"

He wishes never to wake up. If you're not in the world he opens his eyes to, he may as well live in this fantasy. He has lived such a long time in solitude. So even if it's just a fragment of imagination or make-believe, he would choose that sweet lie rather than face the cold reality you're gone...

"Satoru..."

Your voice... It's sweeter than the sirens and softer than the small faes singing with the birds in early dawn...

A soft touch brushed off the fringes on his temples, shielding his eyes from the blinding sun. Unable to bear the brightness, his eyes opened and looked up to the blue sky...

Slowly, his blurry eyes met your worried ones as you tucked your hair behind your ear while staring at him with his head laying on your lap.

"You're finally awake... Thank goodness!" You sighed and smiled. "Welcome home, Satoru..."

Your hair... It's not the same color as it was... It shone a bright silver like his under the sunlight, which only the imperial descendants can inherit... But he knew it was you... His soul tells him so.

"Y-Y/n?" He reaches out to touch your cheeks that have grown prominent... more elf-like... "This isn't a dream?"

Your sweet chuckle filled his ears as your warm palms held his and pressed it to your cheeks, kissing his wrist.

"I must've worried you so... I'm sorry, but I'm fine now... because of you."

You're really warm... So warm, you melted the millennial thorny wall he built around his heart. Your palms are so dainty compared to him, but they have always been able to soothe him more than anything else.

"You... You look like me..." Satoru slowly sat up as he took in your features. "My Flower... you look like a fae..." Satoru is a bit confused about the sudden transformation. You look just as you are, but the silver hair, pointy ears, and sharper features...

"It must've been because of the flower's healing attributes," Shoko explained, taking a step forward to assess the changes on you, who indeed looks like an elf now.

"Explain, Shoko." Satoru looked at the woman as he was adamant about answers.

"The flowers had healing attributes; it's just a speculation, but aside from healing, we all know that lotus also signifies rebirth. The flower may have deemed it necessary to change the human blood running in the Empress's veins into elven blood for her to heal from the poison fully... As for the silver hair, I can only think that since the Lotus Tears came from the sacred buriel grounds of the late Empresses, it must have absorbed most of their remaining energy and passed it on to the Empress through the flower's healing attributes..."

"Does that mean my Mate is now an elf?" Satoru cannot believe how these events have turned out for you and him. He took your hand and studied your features... You are still you, but indeed, there swirls a more mystical air around you, and only a faint scent of human blood is left lingering in you.

"The Empress is not yet fully an elf at the moment, but I am sure before the fortnight ends, her transformation will be complete, and she will truly be a full-fledged fae, like us." Shoko nodded.

You stared at Satoru... The once wilting forest which you woke up to slowly regained life.

For a man so stoic, he is an open book... You can't help but chuckle as the smaller faes slowly creep out of their homes and rejoice at the blossoming life enveloping the woods again. Shoko and Suguru have left, leaving you and your mate some privacy in the garden.

"I..." Satoru cannot confess enough what he had done out of rage and sorrow when he thought you were gone.

"I know..." You shake your head telling him to speak no more as you took him in your arms... This time, you could feel him ever closer, hear his thoughts louder, and see him clearer. Everything he has done and he has said, you knew and felt in each passing second... But no words were uttered, as you can feel the remorse coursing in his being. What he needs the most is your embrace...

Nature can renew itself as long as it is given care and time...

The trees are once again full of luscious foliage, the grass is back to its evergreen hue, and the different faes have returned to their homes and gone through their duties as usual. Satoru is somehow a bit busier with the court matters, while you, the Empress, needed a little more recuperation before you come back to your court duties.

"Your Majesty... We always knew you smelled sweet even before you became like us."

The smaller sprites sat on your finger as they flapped around you, more drawn than ever. It seems that your new form has made you more captivating to their instincts, just like how they are drawn to the presence of their Emperor.

"Really? Though, I know you just want more sugary treats." You played with their cheeks until they perked up and bowed to someone. "See you tomorrow, Your Majesty!"

You didn't have to guess who made the little sprites flee in haste.

You turned around, and sure enough, you were swept off your feet as a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground. His sweet sandalwood scent filled your senses, soothing your racing heart.

"I missed you, My Flower... What did my mate get for me?" Satoru looked at the basket you're holding, filled with several flowers from the garden he built for you.

"It's nothing much... It's too loose to be called a crown." You showed him the crown you clumsily made with some lilacs. But Satoru guided your hand to put it on his head, indulging you with anything. You have now fully turned into an elf. Bright silver hair, lucid eyes, and the sweet scent of jasmine and orchid around you with the purple robes that only the Imperial Rulers can wear. Anyone who sees you will immediately recognize you as an Imperial Fae and their Empress.

"I would take anything you offer me, Y/n." Satoru softly kissed her forehead... his lips slowly kissed his way down your nose until he found your lips. "Can I ask for a kiss?"

"What if I say my kisses are not offered?" You raised a brow.

Satoru merely shrugged it off with a smirk.

"I'm pretty sure you can make exceptions for your husband, no?" Satoru chuckled. "Can I have my kiss now?"

Your sweet smile and soft giggle drowned in as he captured your lips for a gentle but passionate kiss.

If the lotus has tears, he will shed it only and only for you...

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

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rayroseu · 9 months

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💚Mallevan/Levanoa Headcanons (2/?)

PART 01 PART 02⬇️

you guys dont know how often i brainrot about these couple who never even talked in game yet KDJAKSK

Am glad to see that Levan's receiving the "Yuusona treatment" because of the various ways that twst artists draws him lolol

• • • Headcanon 2.

Malenoa is the strongest of the trio. Because she is a royalty, she is much more knowledgeable about magic— particularly if its related to dragons. Naturally, she became kind of like a magical tutor to both Levan and Lilia when they were children.

i really like the thought of eastern dragons in TWST🥰 its a nice foreshadow that Levan is a Long bcs thats Malleus' Halloween costume✨

(if its really like that,,,, im going to cry bcs that means Malleus dressed up like his papa who he never knew 💔😭)

(also I'm praying with all my heart he's not some plot twist jerk in game like King Stefan from Maleficent 1 😭)

I think dragons are rare on TWST not only because they're really particular on their mates but also because raising one is extremely high maintainance.

Its 1: life threatening to the caretaker, 2: needs constant attention and love, 3: once it grows up, you even need to withstand its tantrums and emotions (who are btw magically powered) 😭💥

That's why I think ??? there's limited knowledge about mediating their power (so they just get stuck in this cycle of being the strongest but that very strength can bring disaster bcs its uncontrollable)

Thus, I thought of Malenoa being Levan's friend who teaches him about controlling his draconic powers because Levan doesn't really want to accidentally harm others because of his uncontrollable strength--✨✨✨

I like to think its because of Levan's pacifist nature that Land of Briar chose to have war treatiest first instead of just crushing the Silver Owls through Malenoa's military strength. He's aware that killing off humans would just make them more hostile to faes in general, and I don't think both Malenoa and Levan wants Malleus to grow up in war once he hatches-

—

Levan's fire is purple because I remember getting surprised when Overblot Malleus used that on his attack despite Land of Briar/Malenoa (?) being "mainly green colored" all this time...

So, I think that's one magic he got from his father??? because most of his features already derives from Malenoa (horns, tail, magic (i think his green fire is from Malenoa), straight hair, etc)

The purple fire might've originate from Malleus' mastery of void magic (I hc their dorm spells' element are their forte magic and Dorm Malleus is double void card) but we've never seen void magic used like a fire... its usually like an energy beam right? I think it was so exciting when he attacked like that💜👆‼️✨ (I literally squealed lol its so pretty?? but I know I'll die from that lol)

I love the thought that Lilia is the "mom friend"/"sensible friend" of this trio... 😂 because he says hes the one constantly working for these couple... mostly to deal with their antics lol

plus Lilia is literally the sole person working for Levan and Malenoa to meet together right now---

since Levan's missing and Malenoa can’t really leave the castle since she’s guarding unhatched Malleus--- and its just a bad move to send the best queen on the frontlines when they can just send Lilia yk 😆

i hope we get more dragon egg lore and also specifically egg malleus reveal🙌🙌 like how do THEY take care of a dragon egg anyway.... do they put it on cradles as well like human babies??? or their parents will hold them since they require vast amount of love-

i'd used to think malleus backstory would be his child self being lonely (which in the future might??? but for now?? his backstory is literally just him being an egg and all of us are crying over an egg JDHJWJD 😭😭😭

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bet-on-me-13 · 7 months

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The Structure of the Infinite Realms

This is an updated version of This old prompt I did a while back.

...

So! The Infinite Realms are not just limited to the Afterlife. In fact, the Afterlife is just a single section of the Realms, and Each Realm is ruled over by their own Kingdom with their own Godly Rulers.

Lets give an Overview of a few of the Realms:

The Far Frozen: The Far Frozen is a Realm inhabited by Yeti's, who are Pacifists by nature. Their sole focus is to develop their medical practices so they can help as many people as possible. They are rules over by the Ice God, Frostbite, a kind and just King who uses his eons of experience to help those in need. The Far Frozen are well liked by all Kingdoms in the Infinite Realms, and have very few enemies.

The Medieval Isles: The Medieval Isles are a very recent addition to the Infinite Realms, and resembles the Earth Sterotype of a Fantasy Land. It is inhabited by many different races, from Elves to Dwarves to Humans. It was previously Ruled Over by a Draconic God known as the Tyrant King Aragon, before he was overthrown by his sister, the Kind Queen Dorathea with the help of a Sir Phantom. It does not have many Enemies among the Realms, but the Fae Wilds to seem to resent that some Elves live there as opposed to their original homeland.

Olympus: Olympus is the Realm of the Greek Gods, home to all the Gods who exist in the World and used to exist. It is ruled over by Zeus. It used to be a pretty major Political Powerhouse in the Realms, but after Ares went Rouge and killed most of their Top Gods, they lost a lot of Power.

Themyscira: After the Amazon's split off from the rest of Greece, they formed their own Kingdom with Hippolyta as the Godess Queen. It exists simultaneously in both the Realms and Earth. This Kingdom is well respected, but not as old or as large as some of the others. It has about the same Political Power as Olympus currently does, if not a little less.

The Nordic Lands: This is a Realm inhabited by the Norse Gods and all their peoples. It is not ruled over by a single Race of Gods, and is split into many different Warring Factions. One is the Aesir, Ruled over by King Odin. Another is the Vanir, formerly ruled over by Njord, but now ruled by his son Frey. There are also the Lands for the Fire and Ice Giants, and so on. They hold a good amount of Political Power in the Infinite Realms, but tend to stay Neutral in most cases.

New Genesis: This is the home of the New Gods, a race of Gods who is far younger than the others. They are ruled over by High Father, one of the surviving Old Gods, and the father of many of the New Gods. They are a fairly old and powerful Kingdom in the Realms, holding much Political Power.

Apokolips: This is a Realm filled with almost exclusively Demon's. It is ruled over by the God of Evil, Darkseid, and his Court of Minor Gods. It is an Extremely Agressive and even hostile Kingdom in the Realms, but holds itself back from attacking it's fellow Godly Kingdoms in fear of Retribution. They rarely interact with the other Kingdoms or discuss political matters in Meetings, but they are still a Kingdom not to be trifled with.

The Fae Wilds: This is the Realm that is the homeland of all Faeries and such creatures, like Elves and Gnomes. It is ruled over by the Fae Gods, Oberon and Titania, who use their cunning to obtain a good standing among the other Realms and maintain a good amount of Political Power.

The Spirit Lands: This is the Realm inhabited by mostly Nature Spirits, such as Nymphs and Fire Sprites. These lands are ruled over by 4 Elemental Kings, among which are Vortex and Undergrowth. These Lands are a sort of Middle Point in terms of Political Power, not too much but not too little. Although their image has been damaged by the Impulsive personalities of a few of their Rulers.

The Miracle Lands (Miraculous Ladybug): This is a Realm inhabited by a race of Gods that represent Conceptual Ideas, known as Kwami's. They are ruled over by the King and Queen of their Lands, Tikki and Plagg, the concepts of Creation and Destruction. The Miracle Lands are one of the oldest and most powerful of the Kingdoms of the Infinite Realms, and hold some of the most Political Power in the Infinite Realms.

The Ghost Zone/The After: This was what I really made this post to do. To explain my Headcanon for how the Ghost Zone worked in the grand scheme of things, the rest was just context.

The Ghost Zone is the collective Afterlife of all the other Realms, with Major Regions of the Realms dedicated to the different Kingdoms that hold a claim to the Afterlife.

There are Large Regions of the Realms dedicated to containing the Afterlives of the Godly Realms, like the Underworld for Olympus, or Valhalla/Vanaheim/Hel for the Nordic Lands. (The Norse actually have a shocking amount of Territory in the Ghost Zone, many joke that it's because Odin and Pariah Dark liked eachother due to how similar they looked.)

Each of the Regions is ruled over by that Pantheon's own God of the Dead/Death.

Hades rules the Underworld, and commands the different sections like the Fields of Asphodel, the Fields of Punishment, Elysium, and even Tartarus to some degree.

Plagg rules the Miraculous After (the Kwami's are not very creative with names). This is an Afterlife exclusive to the Holders of the Miraculous, as well as those who use Miracle Magic without having a Miraculous, like the Guardians. Also just the followers of the Kwami's (they have a small following)

The Norse have many Rulers for their many Afterlives. Hel rules over Hel, Freya rules over Vanaheim, Odin rules over Valhalla, and even Rán has her own tiny section for drowned souls. Plus a few more small sections.

The Acropolis is the Personal Afterlife for the Amazonians, and only answers to the Queendom of Themyscira. Pandora was chosen as the new Goddess of Afterlife when this was decided, and Acsended to Minor Godhood.

And there are many more, too many to list.

All the Rulers of the Afterlives defer to the Ruler of the Ghost Zone, who holds the most Power among the Gods of Death, as basically their Landlord. That used to be Pariah Dark, but after he went insane and had to be sealed away, the Ghost Zone fell mostly to Anarchy.

While the Afterlives managed to maintain stability due to having their own Rulers, the large regions between the Afterlives did not, and Rouge Spirts began to stake their claims to small plots of Land called Haunts. The most common among these were Ghosts, but there were some Fae, Spirits, and some smaller Gods (for some reason, some of the Kings of the Spirit Lands liked to use this Area as a playground to do whatever they wanted with no consequences).

It took Millennia, but eventually Pariah Dark was released from his Prison and then Usurped by a Young Godling named Phantom. Phantom then proceeded to bring the Realms under control, maintaining a few of the newer customs thay had appeared in the wake of Pariah's Imprisoning like Claiming Haunts, but otherwise ending the Era of Anarchy in the Realms.

The Ghost Zone is the Oldest, and most Powerful of the Kingdoms of the Infinite Realms. It holds Extreme Political Power, and has the favor of many different Realms. It's hard to not have that when you are an integral part of the Balance of the Godly World.

Thoughts?

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blackopals-world · 2 months

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Noble!Yuu: (mixing poison while peacefully humming)

Silver: Your highness, may I speak with you?

Noble!Yuu:(not turning around) Speak your mind?

Silver: I heard from his highness that you know a way to extend a human life. One comparable to a fae.

Noble!Yuu: hmm...that is a very dangerous thought to have Vanrouge. Many humans have chased immortality and have been cursed for it. No one can live forever.

Silver: I don't want to live forever. I want to live long enough to be with my friends and family for as long as possible. I don't want to die long before them.

Noble!Yuu: I understand...more than anything how that feels. To be surrounded by people who are doomed to outlive you. To know your parents would have to bury their child.

Silver: Then can you help me?

Noble!Yuu: A human life can't be extended. However, if you were no longer human-at least not entirely, you could have a longer life.

Silver: You were a human taken into a demon tribe right? Is that what would happen to me?

Noble!Yuu:(grits teeth).....No. What I can do is make a blood bond. I however will have some difficulties binding you to demon bloodline since you share no familiarity to demon kind. Fae blood would be easier since you share a strong connection but it's so much thinner than demon blood. Unless...hold on!

(Yuu begins rummaging through a stack of books.)

Silver: (startled) Um, is everything okay?

Noble!Yuu:(flipping through pages)Yes, just give me a minute. Here! Right here! I have a plan. I can use fae blood as a binding agent. If I use a bit of blood from my father's bloodline or from the divine branch that could work. Granted I would have to find some distant relatives from higher up but that could work.

Silver: ( a little scared now) Is that good?

Noble!Yuu: Good? It's great Silver. You shall benefit not just yourself but our two kingdoms! We can create a link from Vanrouge line to mine. If I do this right it will be as if Lilia was my uncle and you my cousin, if I mix this right. That means that once I marry Malleus it will link all three families. However, this comes with costs like all things. You will go through a few changes, naturally. Regardless you would would inherit more of Lilia's features but those features will be linked with...other things....

Silver: What other things?

Noble!Yuu: Well...like I said, I will need to go up my family tree and I have two distinct branches. One is a pure demonic bloodline with animalistic behaviors, they were the protectors of the land. The other is more divine blessed by the old gods, with power over nature, they protect the people. There is a whole history there and my parents are the ones who know it best. I don't have power over either since I wasn't born their child. I can only take one bloodline due to how potent they are. So neither can you. You have to choose what blood you want for the bond.

Silver: So I must chose to become a Demon or a Saint? This sounds like one of Idia's video games.

Noble!Yuu: I don't make the rules. This has never been done like this before. Either way you still are going to be part bat.

(I have no idea what I'm doing. We are winging this)

#noble!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yuuniverse #twisted wonderland yuu #silver vanrouge #twst silver #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus

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angelwood-if · 9 months

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DEMO (EDITING)

Genres and tropes: urban fantasy, romance, found family, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, friends to lovers, murder mystery, action

LUNAR CITY: a gritty but bustling city where supernaturals and humans live in (relative) harmony. Humans live alongside Fae, witches and warlocks, vampires, and so many more. It's normal. It's your normal.

When your father died, he left you with one thing: his antiquities/pawn shop. Decades upon decades of collecting and trading bits and bobs from all types of supernatural histories sit right here in Angelwood Antiquities, a staple of Lunar City and the shop you have now inherited.

It was his life's work, and you've done everything in your power to keep it running.

But when someone comes in bloodied and begging for you to take hold of a magical object, you don't know what you're agreeing to. You definitely don't expect him to die at your feet, telling you to take good care of...them.

Them?

Turns out the object is no object at all, but an ancient being that could be the key to stopping a multi-species war that's been brewing right under your nose..and your father may have had something to do with it. And when that being chooses and bonds to you--giving you its power--you are now thrust headfirst into the world of supernatural. The same world you've managed to avoid.

Entangled with a cast of characters who will help you save the world, you are now both human and supernatural, a rare feat. And the most important person in the city. And it will be up to you to save it.

Angelwood is an urban-fantasy inspired by stories by Sarah J. Maass, Cassandra Clare, and Holly Black. It is primarily centered around romance, with a fantasy, murder mystery, and war brewing at its core. The demo is already written and undergoing editing.

FEATURES.

Customize your MC's gender identity, pronouns, appearance, personality.

Navigate a gritty city of supernaturals.

Embark on an adventure to find out what war is brewing in supernatural circles and how to stop it.

Romance a multitude of supernatural and human characters, including a Fae, a Greenwarden, and an entity bonded to you.

Angelwood is a primarily romance and character-driven.

Play in a gritty, supernatural world where not everything is what it seems.

CAST [ROs]

IVAN CROSS (M)(FAE) - Ivan is the cold and distant Detective of the LCPD. He is also a powerful Fae, with a menacing reputation that makes most people scared to cross him. Ivan is not exactly a team player and he seems insistent on railroading this tentative partnership you didn't even want to have with him, but he's also the only one who can make sense of whats happening to you. Seems like you're stuck with him.

It doesn't help that you two aren't on the best of terms considering he closed your father's case without much effort.

FREYA (F)(GREENWARDEN) -- Ivan's second-in-command and your other partner that forms this...odd trio. You expected Greenwardens--powerful sprites that manipulate all things nature--to be smooth talking and caring. Wrong. Freya is snarky and punchy, and determined to get her mission done. Maybe it's because she's half human. Who knows.

DOMINION (DOM)(UNKNOWN) - Dom is the smooth-talking entity that is now in your head and giving you their powers. You...don't really know what to say. They sure are a flirt, at least.

KALEL/KALIS (M/F) (VAMPIRE) - K, once your old friend (and possible ex partner) is now insistent on joining your group considering they seem to have a stake in this too. (pun non intended)

SELINA (F)(SERPENT/HUMAN HYBRID) - Selina the Serpent is the owner of the biggest gambling den in the red light district, and also someone you don't want to cross. Over the years, she's traded with you on all sorts of things people leave behind in exchange for information...and now she wants to join in one the group. Having her around would really help, considering she has eyes everywhere.

QUINN (F/M)(HUMAN) - your best friend and the one you hired for Angelwood. And a human, which seems to be rare these days.

#cog #choice of games #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive game #wip #interactive wip #dashing don #interact-if #dashingdon

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harrystylesfan2686 · 4 months

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Ferryman

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!Reader.

Summary: (I have no idea how to summarize this.)

Warnings: slight mention of suicide and hating oneself.

A/N: This is an idea i got after watching TVD and Legacies. For those who dont know, Ferryman is a psychopomp, the ferryman of the Greek underworld, also known as Hades. He carries the souls of those who have been given funeral rites across the rivers Acheron and Styx, which separate the worlds of the living and the dead. This definition is taken from wikipedia. I changed the legand a little bit. I hope you like this. 🫶

Masterlist

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My life changed entirely after me and my sisters were forced in the world of fae.

Being thrown in a cauldron and turned into a powerful being can be dreadful after having heard all the stories about fae. Hearing how cruel they were to humankind sure was terrifying but after knowing what they looked like and how they acted, I have different thoughts.

The man male, my sister married is one of the most powerful lords of Prythian. One that is so sweet to two of my sisters and so rude to the other.

After we were all thrown into the cauldron, we all got different powers along with our immortal bodies. As we slowly discovered our powers, we got our names too. Elain got named a Seer, discovering her ability of supernatural insight. Nesta became The Death Lady, because of her silver flames.

And I?

I became the Ferryman.

The one who connects the living world and after life. The one who carries souls to their finale destination after death. The anchor guilding the lost souls.

Every fae that dies has to touch me in order to go to the after life. Now while they have a painless journey, I on the other hand, feel everything they did while dying. When they touch me, I feel thier pain, distress, sadness and everything that filled them in their last moments.

At first I was alright with it. But it got tiring very quickly. Then I started despised it. And now? I'm petrified.

I fear it so much, I'm starting to hate myself. I dread my every living moment, just fearing that I will see a soul lurking around and will have to send them to the other side. Feeling thier pain and going through it all over again.

Everyday exactly like the one before. See a soul, touch, feel, hurt, and do it again and again with no end in sight.

Can't you just handle it and get over yourself?

Nesta had hissed at me when I tried to share my feelings to her. Indeed, she was in pain too but she isn't the only person our father's death has effected. I wasn't there that day. At least they got to see father for one last time before he died. I didn't. I was held up in a tent, following Rhysands commands, saying it's too dangerous for me out there.

Her cruel words still roam my head everytime I try to feel sorry for myself. I can't communicate my feelings to anyone anymore.

Feyre forced me to reveal myself one day and couldn't do anything else as she, too, doesn't understand what I go through everyday. She told me that she'll see what she can do and try to help me but hasn't said or done anything else so I believe nothing can be done about this except to accept it just as what it is.

I just suffer in silence and not tell anyone.

-☆-

I take a sip from the wine bottle I stole from Rhysand's finest wine stock, and rest it between my spread legs, holding the bottle from it's neck. I look down at the mountains beyond me. My legs dangling off as I sit on the balcony edge.

It's starfall tonight.

And I'm sitting on a balcony of the only room I saw empty. It only views is mountains, lining up from The House Of Wind, of all sizes and shapes.

It's a beautiful site.

Stars in the dark sky, shining down on the mountains and forests that rest between them. I can see nothing but the hills and the beautiful start sky. It's so peaceful not being around strangers and just staying here, lost in the nature, drinking wine and just being with your own thoughts.

"What are you doing here alone?" A deep voice asks behind me. I don't turn to see who it is, already knowing it is the Spymaster.

"What does it seem like?" I take another sip of the wine. The sound of boats against the floor, walking towards me. His presence looms behind me, his shadows already wrapping around me. They seem to like me. Always surrounding me whenever we are near. I raise my free hand to play with one.

"You going to fall." He grunts.

"Nothing's going to happen. It's not like I can die." I chuckle at the irony, the sound doesn't seem real.

It's true. I truly cannot die. I'm the anchor, after all. If I die, nobody is going to get their haven after life. I tried a few months ago, when I finally decided I couldn't live in this much pain my entire life. It didn't work. I'm still standing. I did end up with a lot of injuries though.

I take another sip.

"I hope you know you can talk to me whenever you want. We can sit without talking too." He sits beside me. Dangling his feet off of the edge too.

I silently offer him the wine bottle. He silently accepts. We sit there for god knows how long, just quietly passing the wine around and looking out in the sky. Drinking and enjoying one another's company in silence. I feel good, comfortable around him.

Suddenly stars start to move. Skiping through the sky, shimmering glitter. Colors of all kinds fill the sky. I breath out. My lips tug up on thier own, curling into a small smile I can not contain.

"It's truly beautiful, isn't it." My eyes on the stars when I speak to Azriel.

"It truly is." He whispers.

I force my eyes to move to him, noticing he's not looking at the sky.

He's looking at me.

His eyes on my face, switching between my eyes and lips. I feel a rush to my cheeks. For a minute we don't move at all. Just looking at each other, drinking in how we look under the sparkling colourfull stars.

We smile at the same time and look away from one another.

For the first time in a while, my face holds a genuine smile.

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#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel angst

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nyankochan · 1 year

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A Mother’s Love II

Malleus x fem!reader (platonic)

Summary

As a kid, Malleus had no parental figure outside of his grandmother. When at times she was too busy as queen, he found comfort in the embrace of one of his Royal guards, who happened to be Lilia’s lover.

TW: mentions of violence, miscarriage, depression

Part 1: here

word count: 2.5K

You hum a nameless tune whilst you help Malleus get ready for the day. You button up his shirt, taking careful consideration to not wrinkle the fabric. You slip a black sock on each foot and hook a pair of suspenders to his shorts. Malleus watches, being unusually quiet, as your dainty fingers delicately tie his bow tie around his neck.

“(Name)?”

“Yes, my prince?”

“What is that song you’re humming?”

You offer a smile. Some of Malleus’s black locs fall over his face, which you carefully slick back out his vision. You straighten the bow, pulling the entire outfit together in a cute, yet poised outfit for the heir of Briar Valley.

“Hm, it’s a song I heard so long ago that I forgot the words to it,” you say. “I can only remember the tune, but it was very special to me.”

“If it was so special to you, then why did you forget it?” Malleus asked innocently.

“I’m old my dear prince,” you chuckle. “Sometimes, we adults become forgetful as we age.”

“Oh…” Malleus pouts. You tilt your head in confusion, concerned by his sudden mood switch. “Does that mean, you’ll one day forget about me too?”

“My prince…” You kneel back down to his height and take his small hands into your own. You caress his palm with your thumb, a small yet comforting gesture. “There’s nothing in this world that could make me forget about you. You’re that special to me.”

“You won’t forget me even as you grow older?” Malleus asked hopefully.

“Not even after the day I die. I promise you that, Malleus.”

Malleus hugs you. The sudden force almost threw you off balance. Once steady, you reciprocate the gesture. His grip tightens, refusing to let go. For a while, you hold him, providing the warmth and security he needed.

Malleus never knew his parents. You vaguely remember them yourself, so you weren’t much help in educating him on them. Not like it really mattered to him. He had his grandmother, whom he adored. But with how busy Her Majesty was as queen, she couldn’t always spend time with him in the way she wanted. The next closest maternal figure he had was you, and Lilia could be considered a paternal model. Between the two of you, you practically raised Malleus. You witnessed his first steps. Comforted him during each nightmare, and even taught him bits of magic.

No matter how old you got, Malleus would always have a soft spot in your heart for he was the child you and Lilia could never have.

•••

Some years ago

For centuries, the fae and human race clashed. The two races had difficulties coexisting due to the imbalance of power. The fae, naturally gifted with magic, taught their skills to the weaker humans. As humans strengthened, they turned on their allies, and war broke out the battle for dominance.

Malleus’s grandmother, Her Majesty Queen Malefica attempted to forge peace between the two races, but it was a tedious process that often resulted in more fighting than compromise. You and Lilia were top commanders in the army, and often witnessed firsthand the treacherous outcomes of failed negotiations. Fighting between fae and human. Magic used carelessly that caused more destruction thad good. The loss of lives, some of your closest comrades, and others, innocent bystanders. The worst of them all: yours and Lilia’s unborn child.

“Lady Y/n? Can you hear me? Lady Y/n!”

You awake with a start. Gasps for air quickly turned into a pained wince. You recognize the medical wing by its ancient supplies and alcoholic scent. However, everything is hazy. And your body feels like it’s on fire, particularly in the abdomen region.

“My lady, are you all right?” The doctor asked. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Four?” You say confused. You grip your head feeling the headache coming on. “What happened?”

The doctor frowned, looking almost guilty. “Im sorry my lady but-“

Your heart sank. It started to return to you. The skirmish between Briar Valley and the Land of Heroes. They surprisingly had stronger mages and warriors than your troops anticipated. While you had more numbers, you were slowly forced to retreat when one of the mages used illegal transformation magic. Briar Valley’s Queen had a unique magic that allowed her to turn into a dragon. This mage used a phony knockoff spell that not only killed him and several of his comrades but many of your allies.

You remembered trying to save one of the younger cadets. In the process you were wounded. Your defense spell was overpowered but the enemy mage’s temporarily boosted magic. The flame attack burned through the skin and seared the lining of your stomach and parts of your uterus.

“I’m sorry to tell you this Lady Y/n, but you were six weeks along. Your uterus was so badly damaged in the attack that there was nothing I could do magic wise to save your child. I’m so sorry.”

You heart stopped in that moment.

You were pregnant?

With Lilia’s child?

You didn’t know. If you had did you never would’ve foolishly took to the battle field. Tears prickled your eyes and you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate. The heart monitor started beeping.

“Lady Y/n? Please calm yourself!” But the doctor’s words fell on deaf ears.

You were pregnant. You and Lilia were gonna be parents. And now that future was stripped away from you both for good.

•••

“(Name)?” Malleus calls, tugging on your sleeve. You snap back into reality becoming aware of your surroundings. The concerned prince stares at you, green eyes wide with worry.

“I’m sorry my prince, I seemed to have zone out,” you chuckled. “Shall we go get breakfast?”

“Can we get ice cream?” He asks hopefully. Your eye twitches, buy your do your best to hide your irritation. You swear, you regret the day Lilia got him hooked on it.

“Maybe later,” you say with a soft smile. “How about some pancakes?”

Luckily, the young child’s eyes sparkle nonetheless. “Yay! Pancakes!” He raises his arms to be picked up, which you do without a second thought.

As you walk down the long halls to the kitchen, the prince excitedly babbles, talking about all the things he wanted to do with you for the day, including taking a walk through the gardens, visiting the gargoyle statues by the palace entrance, and wanting to go to the town. You just smile and nod along, not quite sure how to fulfill all his requests in a singular day. After all, you had other responsibilities to handle that you usually took care of when Malleus went down for a nap, one being filling out some of the military reports.

You weren’t as active in the military as you used to be. But, you supposed the fighting spirit never died and you wanted to help out the best you could despite what happened in the best. You never stepped foot on the actual field since then, but you will still train recruits from time to time and it was best you handled any paperwork instead of leaving it to Lilia. He didn’t have your patience to fill out several page reports, and if Her Majesty wanted anything to be legible, let alone done, it was best to let you handle the tedious tasks.

Once in the kitchen, you begin gathering the ingredients to begin breakfast. Usually, Malleus wanders off but today, he was insistent on helping you. Which you didn’t mind.

“Ok, just add a cup of flour into that bowl,” you instruct. Malleus nodded. He holds the measuring cup with two hands, intently focusing on the bowl. He tilts the cup over, but the flour was packed into the cup and didn’t come out right away. Malleus wore a confused look and tapped the bottom a little too hard. The flour falls out in a clump, kicking up a cloud of white dust that covers his face. He blinked a few times in confusion.

You snicker, trying to bite back your laughter. Malleus pouts and looks to be on the verge of tears. “Now now, no need for the waterworks,” you say, taking a wet towel to wipe his face. “What’s baking without a little mess?”

“You’re not mad?” Malleus whimpers, rubbing his eyes.

“Mad? Least you got majority in the bowl!” You scoff. “Lilia couldn’t even do that even if I did it for him.”

You loved your husband. You really did. But cooking, baking or anything really involving being in the kitchen was just not his forte. He had no affinity for it at all. It made you wonder how in the hell did he survive centuries on his own before you two got together. Lilia couldn’t even make a scrambled egg properly. Last time he did, it was simultaneously burnt and purple.

“Lilia really can’t cook, huh?” Malleus said in between giggles.

“Not even a little, so it’s my job to make sure you don’t end up like him.” You ruffle Malleus’s hair before picking up a whisk and giving it to him. “Come now. You only grow if you learn from your mistakes.”

It took longer than usual, but you and Malleus finished the batter. You were patient with the boy, letting him take his time measuring out ingredients and only guiding him slightly when it came to storing things in. You only took back over when it came to using the stove, because he was still a little too young to work with the heated device.

In the end, he was quite proud of himself when the finished product came out a crisp golden brown.

“It’s so good! Do you think grandma would like some?” Malleus asked as he shoveled more food into his mouth. You smile softly.

“I’m sure Her Majesty would greatly appreciate your sentiment.”

You two were enjoying each other’s presence and the calmness of the morning. The skyline was an ombré of oranges. Your tea had finally cooled off enough for it to not burn your tongue. Although Malleus was now sticky from syrup, he nearly cleaned his plate with no complaints.

That calmness was soon interrupted by a frantic servant running into the dining room.

“Lady (name)! Lady (name)!”

Her sudden entrance startled you and you spilt a bit of tea on to your shirt. “Dear, what’s the commotion so early in the day?” You ask, trying to wipe the stain.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but Lord Vanrouge returned in a frantic haste. He told me he needed your presence immediately!”

Your heart skipped a quick beat. “I apologize, but please watch the prince for me!” Without a second thought you teleported away.

Malleus stared, mouth slightly agape, at your now empty seat. Tears began to pool in his green eyes. “(Name)….”

•••

You soon arrive at your destination: the infirmary. You and Lilia had a special link that you both created once you were finally married. The link allowed you both to transport to the other in an instant regardless of where they were. It took a lot of magic to enact the seal and couldn’t be broken. You quite literally threatened Lilia with his life to don’t do anything to betray your trust in the relationship. The bond was about as sacred as the wedding band on your finger.

Never mind that.

Your current concern was your husband that was pacing the room while a few doctors scrambled around the room.

“Lilia!”

Lilia perked up at your call. He quickly rushed to you and grabbed your hands. “Dearie, thank goodness you’re here!”

“Whatever is the matter?” You brush Lilia’s bangs out of his face. He looked clearly distressed and their was a bit of blood trickling down his temple from an open wound. “You’re hurt!”

“Never mind me. Come here-“

He led you urgently too where the doctors were gathered: a small bassinet where a small infant lay. The baby had pale skin that was clearly flushed red with fever. They also had silvery white hair and the clothes were by no means suitable for a child that small. They were dirty, ripped and exposed open abrasions that who knew how old they were. You gasp.

“Oh my god, Lilia! You stole a child?!”

“No! What do you take me for?!” Lilia exclaimed. “I found this little one alone in an abandoned cabin on my excursion. He was in bad shape, but I don’t know much about caring for a human child. With your medical knowledge and experience, I figured you were the best to call.”

You trace a finger around the baby’s ears which you notice were not pointed like fae’s. The baby cringed and then began to wail. You take the stethoscope from the doctor and then look to your husband.

“Let me see what I can do.”

Lilia placed a kiss on your temple. “Thank you, dearie.”

After a thorough check up as well as treating the baby’s injuries, you thankfully found nothing too serious. He had early symptoms of pneumonia that were luckily caught soon enough to begin some treatment. Other than that, the baby just had signs of exhaustion and hunger.

Once you had the child bathed, you had Lilia bring some of Malleus’s old baby clothes that didn’t fit anymore. You swaddled the infant tightly and held him close against your chest protectively. He was a heavy sleeper, only briefly opening his eyes periodically to showcase a stunning set of violet irises.

“Do you think this child’s parents are looking for him?” You ask Lilia, who sits on a nearby chair with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not sure. There wasn’t anyone for miles. I think the poor fella’s been abandoned.”

Your heart aches. You wonder who would be so heartless to leave a baby, let alone a child, by themselves to get sick and possibly die. It angered you and at the same time, made you extremely sad.

“Lilia,” you begin. “If it’s alright with you and Her Majesty, I’d like to keep the child for the time being.”

Lilia looks to you with surprise. “(Name)-“

“He has no where else to go,” you interrupt. “Please? I couldn’t bare to send him off to someone who may not provide him with the same love and care I know we can.”

Lilia remains silent, pondering what you said. After a few tense moments he finally signs. “Alright.”

You smile. You place an endearing kiss on Lilia’s forehead. The baby wakes. He doesn’t cry. Just stares absentmindedly at his surroundings. His violet eyes then meet yours. Somehow, he wiggles a hand out of the swaddle. You extend your pinky, which he grabs tightly with a small fist.

“What should we call him?” You ask.

Lilia peers over your shoulder. He then smiles. “How about Silver?”

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cupids-chamber · 1 year

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— INTRODUCING THE CONCUBINES / CONSORTS + others

Malleus Draconia ; Malleus Draconia, the prince of the neighboring country, and the emperor's childhood friend.. though not much information can be found on the prince, as he remains hidden from the public eye, it's a rather well known fact that he had known the emperor beforehand... Even then, it was still a shocking revelation to the media, once they found out—that he of all people, sent in a bethroyal offer. Public press persists with the storyline, that the prince is hopelessly in love with the emperor, and thus sent in an offer of bethroyal.. how true could that really be?

Lilia Vanrouge ; ???

Silver ; An foreign prince from a faraway empire, he came as a form of peace to the emperor, a way to solidify their treaty. The public love him, not only for his charming looks but also for his soft hearted nature, and cool headed personality. He was already in the palace, before the first few Concubines entered it. Many envy him and he has easily become the center of jealousy, as many Concubines find his personality to be taunting rather than charming and alluring. Seems to be in the emperor's favor and high regards.

Sebek Zigvolt ; Sebek was from a rather old and well established noble aristocratic family, in fact.. it was rather unexpected that he had joined the harem—the fact that someone from his family joined was a shock itself, but Sebek in particular shocked all his elders, when he decided to accept the bethroyal offer from the emperor... who knows, why this green haired half-fae, agreed to such a proposal…

Rollo Flamm ; Rollo didn't have much of a choice in coming into the palace, he was raised in an elite and rather powerful noble family. His family is a rather private one, and he rarely gets to show up in events of any sort. Despite this all, his family is above all else—extremely religious, even if they’d miss any other formal event—they’d always make room for a church visit, every now and then. He also holds some underlying resentment and hatred towards the Draconia family, he sees them as cult-ish demons.. A direct result of the way he was raised. Rollo, remains extremely stand-off-ish from other Concubines, and choses to deal with things privately, rather than talking and or conversing with others.

Ruggie Bucchi ; Ruggie had unexpectedly garnered the interest of the emperor—though for what exactly, no one can tell.... Now he's entered the palace as a concubine, and he's still unsure of how he got here in the first place.

Deuce Spade ; Deuce was born into an elite family, with a stunning public image. Their heavy involvement within public affairs, and the lives of common folks/peasants, made them a rather well-loved family all over. They were invited to many events all around... and in one of the many hunting events they had been invited to, little Deuce had met with the future emperor. He was a naive child then, yet when he saw the emperor, he immediately knew it was love. He then became one of the first concubines to join the harem—and he was rather delighted when he heard a certain ginger friend of his would be joining the harem as well…

Azul Ashengrotto ; Azul didn't quite plan on becoming a Concubine, nor did he anticipate the idea of joining the large battle grounds that is the imperial harem, in any potential way... However, Azul took a good look at the benefits of being a Concubine, and there was quite a lot of… convincing.. benefits.. And that was how he had decided to join the imperial harem. Thanks to his family's multitude of connections, he was able to be one of the first Concubines to enter the Imperial palace... He also seemed to have taken quite an unexpected liking towards the emperor.. that was definitely not in the plan he had prepared…

Idia Shroud ; Idia Shroud, sent by his family for political reasons. He most definitely isn't suited for the imperial harem, and it is quite obvious. Idia, despite being an well-known inventor, with many credentials and skills, he's rarely seen in public, let alone events; he avoids them like a plague. Idia doesn't interact with many concubines in the harem, but has held a couple conversations, for formality's sake. He usually stands off to the side, in formal events he's forced to attend... He also brought his little brother along with him, into the harem.. as an aide.

Ortho Shroud ; Idia's only known sibling, a beloved talent, amongst nobles in his age-range. He came into the palace as his elder brother's aide, and was luckily allowed to remain by his brother's side, though not as often as you'd expect. He was, however, permitted to visit as often, as he pleased.

Cater Diamond ; Cater was born into a noble family, in the countryside.. coming from rural lands, he was quite unaware of the culture in the capital. However, due to his likable personality and ability to adapt to situations fast, he became quite the popular entertainer everywhere, he was able to jet launch his singing career with the help of his many vaste connections he had made. And that was how this social icon became a famous celebrity! Using the same connections, and means of success, he was able to join the imperial harem.. Though his major motive for such a decision is unknown.

— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! ♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?

— taglist ♡ ; @corvids-treasure-box , @queerlordsimon , @treytheslay , @syl-lithy , @liris--noir , @dxmoness , @oogly-oogly , @ravenlking ,@sarah22447 , @merurishi , @gyarunie , @nerdy-simp-7120 , @love-sicklesbian , @islander-posts , @the-dumber-scaramouche , @lunavixia , @senpaiofotome , @sophiethewitch1 , @voasprofile , @dotster001 , @aviagax , @eriislost , @twst-writer , @the-fox-of-the-eclipse , @yandere-kou , @achy-boo , @deathbunnyluv , @despairingy-obsessed , @tiyoin , @mirai-in-the-headspace , @novaloptr , @rose-the-witch1 ,

Previous | Masterlist | Next introduction | First chapter

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lunamond · 18 days

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The argument that the switch-up between Tamlin and Rhysand as love interests was SJM making a clever commentary on the inherently problematic nature of the Beauty and the Beast tale is actually really annoying to me.

I'm absolutely not above being critical of this story.

However, just because there are problematic aspects in the foundational version of this story doesn’t mean that modern iterations automatically possess these as well.

So let's look at how modern retellings deal with the most commonly criticised element of the story: the kidnapping.

For me personally, the most important thing to look at when judging how "problematic" the kidnapping in any given Beauty and the Beast story is, is to look at what the actual power dynamics at play are.

Most of these stories tend to feature some inherent power imbalance between the Beauty and the Beast characters. However, most retellings also feature a curse/curser who puts pressure on the Beast to kidnap Beauty in the first place. This means there is always some kind of higher power/authority who holds significant power over the Beast as well.

In the og Fairytale version, we have a scorned Fae/Witch who curses the Beast. The stakes for the Beast are to find a woman, make her fall in love with him, or stay a Beast forever.

How much this gives the Beast a pass for the crime of kidnapping is, of course, sth each person has to decide for themself.

However, most modern retellings tend to significantly increase the severity of the conditions and consequences of said curse, often times putting many lives outside of the Beast's own at stake.

This increase in stakes, at least for me, significantly impacts how much I condemn the actions of the Beast character.

We see this in the Disney version were all the people living and working in the castle were turned into animate objects and risk turning inanimate once the time-limit for the curse runs out, which is essentially a child friendly way of saying that they will all die.

In the YA novel Cruel Beauty (which I already compared to Acotar in an older post), the Beast character is forced to take a new bride every century. Due to the specifics of the curse, the safety of an entire country is dependent on his compliance with the conditions put on him. So, despite the fact that he initially appears much more powerful than the Beauty character, they are essentially both stuck under the same curse.

The first Acotar book works the same way. Tamlin kidnaps Feyre, not because he wants to but because the conditions of the curse put not just the fate of the SC but of the entirety of Prythian at stake.

That's, of course, not to say that this isn't a violent experience for Feyre and her family. But it does mean that Tamlin isn't the instigator of this violent act, but the person responsible for the curse, aka Amarantha.

The attempt to turn this into a subversion of the BnB story by revealing Tamlin as a violent and abusive partner becomes incredibly frustrating, because most of the violent undertone present in the 1st book, that fans like to point towards as an early sign of his future abusive behaviors are not caused by Tamlin himself but by Amarantha (and her batwinged lackey).

But SJM's attempt is especially nonsensical because Feyre's new romance with Rhysand is just a worse version of BnB.

I am aware that the second book, Acomaf, is most commonly marketed as a Hades/Persephone retelling.

But here is the thing; the modern interpretation of Hades/Persephone as a romance is much more akin to the story of Beauty and the Beast than the hymn to Demeter (the og source text featuring the myth of Hades/Persephone), which as the title suggests is much more concerned with the feelings of grief and rage a mother feels in response to her daughter's abduction than anything else.

So, let's judge Feysand's story with the same standards we just used for other modern BnB retellings.

Immediately, we run into the issue that Rhysand doesn't have a higher power above him forcing him to kidnap Feyre (unless you want to count the mating bond, but that is clearly meant to be seen as a positive so that doesn't really work, Amarantha doesn't count either).

However, it gets worse.

He is the one who forces the bargain on Feyre, ensuring she has to spend 1 week in the NC for the rest of her life. When he later kidnaps her, he is fulfilling the curse he himself put on her.

In this version, the Beast character, Rhysand, is not the cursed but the curser. So he is at once the kidnapper AND the higher power enforcing the curse/the cause for the kidnapping.

In a direct comparison between the way Tamlin and Rhysand each fullfill the Beast role, it becomes pretty apparent how utterly SJM's supposed criticism of the BnB story has failed; Tamlin kidnaps Feyre because he is forced to, Rhysand does because he WANTS to.

#anti feysand #anti acomaf #anti rhysand #anti sjm #acotar #feyre archeron #pro tamlin

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bokettochild · 1 year

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The Chain and Magic

Your magic reflects you more than your body.

Wild's magic screams Death to most people. Unnatural, Broken, Wrong. This thing should not be here. This is a thing, his magic doesn't label him as Hylian anymore, he's not exactly Hylian anymore anyways, so why would it? Instead, magic users see a hylian but their magic will scream at them that that Thing is dressed as a hylian but it is Something Else piloting a hylian.

Four's magic also says Broken. Shattered, pieces, not quite right. He's confusing because he's in pieces, but the pieces don't fit together anymore. They look like they could, but once you look closer you realize that they're just slightly Off and while you could force the pieces together, it still wouldn't Fix him

Twilight's says Darkness. Warmth and love and darkness. His magic feels like a person holding you while you sleep. It's got a dangerous side to it, but not scary. Like, yes, he is a big doggy, he will watch over you but yes, he will bite if you pull his tail, so just don't pull his tail, okay?

Sky's is terrifying. He's pretty and he's sweet, but magic users take one look at him and wonder why a god is standing in front of them and if he's going to smite them? His magic says Strength, Courage, Protection. Once you know what he's protecting, you avoid that thing like the plague lest you upset him

Time's magic is Twisted. His is Wrong in ways that make magic users flinch. He's not like Wild, where his magic says "I shouldn't be here" or Four who says "I'm not all myself, I'm many of myself" Time's magic screams "I am more than myself but I cannot tell where I end and where the foreign begins". To magic users, Time is like a human centipede, or Frankenstein; there is just pieces of him and other Things all sewn together by magic in a mess that Should Not Be. It's kinda gross, for magic users, to be around him honestly

Hyrule's magic is strangely tame in comparison. He's fae, he has fae magic. Yes, the Triforce adds some weird crap, but he's just like, super powerful Fae. He is like a troublesome child someone dared to let drive a car; he has resources to end the world, and while he's not inherently bad, you're not sure if you can trust him not to do it "for fun". Like yes, Hyrule is responsible, but that fae part of him is always screaming for trouble.

Warriors' magic is Dangerous. Unlike Sky who is Blatantly Can Kill You, Wars' magic feels like a sleeping dragon. It's not going to hurt you. Yet. It's strong, but it isn't doing anything right now. Get him on the battlefield though and he is Dominating, Magic is surging and threatening and screaming. He has two settings, sleeping and Kill You and there's nothing in between.

Wind's magic is the quietest. His magic is soft, a whisper. It's not because he's weak by any means, but more because his magic is soft and natural and it's just... the wind. The waves. Granted, it can get violent, but unlike the others, Wind has excellent control over his magic because He Has To. the wind needs to keep going even when he's in shock, it has to stay steady even if he's angry, he Can't let it get too strong because it'll blow the ship into danger. Wind's magic is reminiscent of a dancer, fluid and graceful, controlled, but strong.

Legend's magic on the other hand is the most ungodly combination of what the actual crap? Where Time's is like someone took so much and stuffed it together, Legend's is like a house with many windows, and each time you look in a window, there's something different. His magic isn't blatantly Wrong, but it does flicker in and out as New Things. Monster magic? yeah, he's got that. Hylia's magic? Oh, yeah, you can sense that when his emotions are running high. Dream magic? dude is steeped in the stuff, but you have to look to find it. Death magic? Oh yeah better believe it. you touch that lightning scar that runs all over his left side and it's like Death herself is holding your hand. Dude's magic is screwy, but not Scary. His magics are all kinda only see-able by those who are similar, so it chameleons around with people so they can't ever sense anything strongly unless their magic is the same. In which case Oh! Same! Friend! Magic users (ahemHyruleahem) love him to death because he just feels Familiar, but if they could see how Much and Many magics there is, they'd be a little scared.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu wild #lu four #lu sky #lu hyrule #lu wind #lu warriors #lu time #lu twilight #lu legend #magic #ketto's brainfarts

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poppurini · 11 months

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holding his hand

incl. malleus & f!reader┊reader wears a dress

note. not proofread i word vomit

malleus was deprived of physical touch ever since birth. aside from his grandmother and the country’s trusted general, people and animals alike have avoided him like plague if possible. servants back at the castle bowed their heads and retreated quickly whenever they spotted him, birds have fled and the animals have left their precious dinner behind when malleus stepped into their vicinity.

the man understands since childhood that it was due to his position and the power he possessed, but he would never harm them. he was certain he would never abuse his power and harm innocent creatures, he was not a monster. well, he was a little upset with the way he’s being treated but it never really occupied much of his mind, really. he had stopped gazing out windows, standing on his tippy toes when he was a mere toddler to watch the town children running around and play-fighting with each other. it had stopped bothering him, he had grown accustomed to it. only until this very moment where he’s sat beside you, that is.

to others, it may have been a little embarrassing. the future king of briar valley had fallen quick and deep for this child of man he had coincidentally met during one of his strolls in the forest. it was cliché, really. but how could he not be intrigued by someone who did not flee at the sight of him? instead you held an endearing curiosity in your eyes, clearly alarmed by the stranger but still, you did not flee.

his feet brought him back to the very same spot the next day, hoping to encounter you again and, well, maybe make a friend? he never had a friend. he should take the initiative. malleus preferred you come out from hiding first, though. surely you’re aware of him noticing your presence? he had chuckled a little, this human was poor at being discreet.

and before malleus knew it, his heart yearned for you. not a second goes by where his mind was not occupied by the intriguing girl he had met that fateful day. the young fae finished his lessons quickly and stepped out, he’d hate to be late and make you wait.

malleus hope he wasn’t being too obvious about it but oh, what is this feeling, anyway? he does not know, but he likes it. he likes the way you make him feel, it was such a pleasant feeling he find himself smiling at the mere thought of you.

there is one thing troubling him, however. he wishes to hold you oh so desperately. the distance between you two had closed gradually the more you see each other but he still could not find the courage in him to just initiate touch. yes, the mighty fae was shy. how embarrassing, truly.

he had a hunch you reciprocated his feelings, malleus had seen the bashful look on your face when he draped his coat over your lap. it was windy that day, you looked a little cold to the man and your pretty dress did not cover all of you, he find the way you stuttered thanks adorable.

it was a gesture that occurred to him naturally, he hadn’t thought much about it. but holding hands? oh, how scandalous.

he had given much thought about how he should execute it. i mean, he could really just ask outright. may i hold your hand? that wasn’t hard, but it would be extremely sudden and maybe a little awkward, he admit. or he could sneak his way in? you are sitting very close to each other, after all. if anything the slight graze of your skin against his was driving him to the edge. if only there was something that—

“I pricked my finger today, did you know that some flowers have thorns on them? So scary!” a small laugh escaped you while recalling the little accident you had today, too distracted by its beauty. there was definitely still much to learn for you.

you showed him the small injury, the blood had stopped but it still stings, you told him. malleus’ gaze softened as he gently held your hand. “You should’ve been more careful, child of man.” concern laced his voice as he casted magic, healing your little injury. “Does it still hurt?”

the look you had made him smile. it was but a simple spell, the most basic one, and yet it got you so astonished. there were many surprises to you that he could not wait to unravel them all.

it wasn’t long until malleus stiffened, his heart racing in its cage, threatening to burst. he was holding your hand in his, and you did not pull away. even after the little treatment was done.

he cleared his throat and prepared to pull away, an apology already at the tip of his tongue but you held on. you took his hand in yours and even sat closer to the man with a quiet giggle, almost leaning against him.

“Thanks, Malmal.”

you continued on about the adventures you had today while mindlessly playing with his slender fingers, and it didn’t take malleus long to intertwine them with yours as he hummed in response to your stories.

#malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #female reader

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marshmellowrio · 2 months

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Flight of the Night | Chapter 4

A/N: A bigger one, this scene goes on forever, ughh. This hasn't been proofread, like every other chapter I have posted (oops?).

Word count: 3.5K

I watch as Feyre addresses Azriel, “How did you meet?” Azriel turns to look at Cassian, I follow his gaze. Cassian is a way better storyteller than Azriel, that’s fact.

“We all hated each other at first.” A grin ghosts over his lips as he starts, his eyes flickering between the four of us, Illyrians. “We are bastards, you know. Az and I. The Illyrians… We love our people, and our traditions, but they dwell in clans and camps deep in the mountains of the North, and do not like outsiders. Especially High Fae who try to tell them what to do. But they’re just as obsessed with lineage, and have their own princes and lords among them.” He holds my gaze before continuing, pointing a thumb in Azriel’s direction. “Az, was the bastard of one of the local lords. And if you think the bastard son of a lord is hated, then you can’t imagine how hated the bastard is of a war-camp laundress and a warrior she couldn’t or wouldn’t remember.” I see the casual shrug of his shoulders for what it is, a way to dampen the vicious, ancient anger raging through his veins at the thought of his mother. “Az’s father sent him to our camp for training once he and his charming wife realized he was a shadowsinger.”

“Like the daemati,” Rhys says to Feyre, “shadowsingers are rare—coveted by courts and territories across the world for their stealth and predisposition to hear and feel things other can’t.”

Something I have been wary of for centuries. Being secretive around Azriel was a feat not easily accomplished.

Cassian continues, “The camp lord practically shit himself with excitement the day Az was dumped in our camp. But me… once my mother weaned me and I was able to walk, they flew me to a distant camp, and chucked me into the mud to see if I would live or die.”

“They would have been smarter throwing you off a cliff,” Mor snorts.

“Oh, definitely,” Cassian says, his grin sharpening. “Especially because when I was old and strong enough to go back to the camp I’d been born in, I learned those pricks worked my mother until she died.”

A silence falls, simmering anger hanging like a cloud in the air.

“The Illyrians,” Rhys cuts in smoothly, “are unparalleled warriors, and are rich with stories and traditions. But they are also brutal and backward, particularly in regard to how they treat their females.”

Azriel’s vacant eyes lock on mine, my face schooled in a stone-cold expression.

“They’re barbarians,” Amren says and neither of the males object.

I keep silent as Mor nods. “They cripple their females so they can keep them for breeding more flawless warriors.”

Rhys cringes. “My mother was low-born, and worked as a seamstress in one of their many mountain war-camps. When females come of age in the camps—when they have their first bleeding—their wings are… clipped. Just a small incision in the right place, left to improperly heal, can cripple you forever.” I tell myself to keep breathing, keeping the memories at bay and listen to the story. A story I’ve heard countless times, but never becomes easier. “And my mother—she was gentle and wild and loved to fly. So she did everything in her power to keep herself from maturing. She starved herself, gathered illegal herbs—anything to halt the natural course of her body. She turned eighteen and hadn’t yet bled, to the mortification of her parents. But her bleeding finally arrived and all it took was for her to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time, before a male scented it on her and told the camp’s lord. She tried to flee—took right to the skies. But she was young, and the warriors were faster, and they dragged her back. They were about to tie her to the posts in the center of camp when my father winnowed in for a meeting with the camp’s lord about readying for the War. He saw my mother trashing and fighting like a wildcat, and… The mating bond between them clicked into place. One look at her, and he knew what she was. He misted the guards holding her.”

“Misted?” Confusion laces her voice. As Cassian chuckles sharply.

Rhys floats a lemon wedge into the air and flicks his finger, turning it into citrus-scented mist. I lean forward to catch the look on Feyre’s face, she takes misting entire beings better than I did the first time. She hasn’t seen him do it yet, but the insinuation of it, was enough to make me still when I realised the extent of Rhys’s powers.

“Through the blood-rain,” Rhys goes on, “my mother looked at him. And the bond fell into place for her. My father took her back to the Night Court that evening and made her his bride. She loved her people, and missed them, but never forgot what they had tried to do to her—what they did to the females among them. She tried for decades to get my father to ban it, but the War was coming, and he wouldn’t risk isolating the Illyrians when he needed them to lead his armies. And to die for him.”

“A real prize, your father,” Mor grumbles. I cast my head down, he never did me wrong. But his methods could be…harsh.

“At least he liked you,” Rhys counters. “my father and mother, despite being mates, were wrong for each other.” I grimace, I sometimes wonder how often a mating bond is set between two beings while they’re not right for each other. “My father was cold and calculating, and could be vicious, as he had been trained to be since birth. My mother was soft and fiery and beloved by everyone she met. She hated him after a time—but never stopped being grateful that he had saved her wings, that he allowed her to fly whenever and wherever she wished. And when I was born, and could summon the Illyrian wings as I pleased… She wanted me to know her people’s culture.”

“She wanted to keep you out of your father’s claws,” Mor says, swirling her wine. Azriel finally looks away from me and I let loose a breath, his memories finally clearing. I have no doubt I was involved in that memory from the way he had stared for the past few minutes.

“That, too,” Rhys adds drily. “When I turned eight, my mother brought me to one of the Illyrian war-camps. To be trained, as all Illyrian males were trained. And like all Illyrian mothers, she shoved me toward the sparring ring on the first day, and walked away without looking back.”

“She abandoned you?” I understand Feyre’s deduction but it still has me narrowing my eyes.

“No—never,” Rhys says, with as much ferocity as I felt for his mother’s memory. “She was staying at the camp as well. But it is considered an embarrassment for a mother to coddle her son when he goes to train.”

Cassian laughs, catching the look on Feyre’s face. “Backward, like he said.”

“I was scared out of my mind,” Rhys admits. “I’d been learning to wield my powers, but Illyrian magic was a mere fraction of it. And it’s rare amongst them—usually possessed only by the most powerful, pure-bred warriors.” His eyes flit to me and I give him a lopsided grin. “I tried to use a Siphon during those years. And shattered about a dozen before I realized it wasn’t compatible—the stones couldn’t hold it. My power flows and is honed in other ways.”

“So difficult, being such a powerful High Lord,” Mor teases.

Rhys rolls his eyes. “The camp-lord banned me from using my magic for all our sakes. But I had no idea how to fight when I set foot into that training ring that day. The other boys in my age group knew it, too. Especially one in particular, who took a look at me, and beat me into a bloody mess.”

“You were so clean,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “The pretty half-breed son of the High Lord—how fancy you were in your new training clothes.” I snort, I can totally imagine young Cassian thinking like that.

“Cassian,” Azriel’s dark voice cuts in, “resorted to getting new clothes over the years by challenging other boys to fights, with the prize being the clothes off their backs.” The flatness in his voice revealed how much he cared for the Illyrian ways.

Cassian chuckles, he had a completely different experience, just as horrifying, but different. “I’d beaten every other boy in our age group twice over already, but then Rhys arrived, in his clean clothes, and he smelled… different. Like a true opponent. So I attacked. We both got three lashings apiece for the fight.”

From my side of the table, I see Feyre flinch.

“They do worse, girl,” Amren cuts in, “in those camps. Three lashings is practically an encouragement to fight again. When they do something truly bad, bones are broken. Repeatedly. Over weeks.”

“Your mother willingly sent you into that?” Feyre asks with a soft voice. She has a lot to learn about Illyrians and their customs, I think to myself.

“My mother didn’t want me to rely on my power,” Rhys says. “She knew from the moment she conceived me that I’d be hunted my entire life. Where one strength failed, she wanted others to save me. My education was another weapon—which was why she went with me; to tutor me after lessons were done for the day. And when she took me home that first night to our new house at the edge of the camp, she made me read by the window. It was there that I saw Cassian trudging through the mud—toward the few ramshackle tents outside of the camp. I asked her where he was going, and she told me that bastards are given nothing: they find their own shelter, own food. If they survive and get picked to be in a war-band, they’ll be bottom-ranking forever, but receive their own tents and supplies. But until then, he’d stay in the cold.”

“Those mountains,” Azriel adds, his hard gaze locking on mine again, “offer some of the harshest conditions you can imagine.” I know he still feels guilty about what happened to me, but I only duck my head not being able to bear his loaded gaze.

“After my lessons,” Rhys ignores the exchanged looks, “my mother cleaned my lashings, and as she did, I realized for the first time what it was to be warm, and safe, and cared for. And it didn’t sit well.”

“Apparently not,” Cassian takes over. “Because in the dead of night, that little prick woke me up in my piss-poor tent and told me to keep my mouth shut and come with him. And maybe the cold made me stupid, but I did. His mother was livid. But I’ll never forget the look on her beautiful face when she saw me and said, ‘There is a bathtub with hot running water. Get in it or you can go back into the cold.’ Being a smart lad, I obeyed. When I got out, she had clean nightclothes and ordered me into bed.” She had done some good for all of us. “I’d spent my life sleeping on the ground—and when I balked, she said she understood because she had felt the same once, and that it would feel as if I was being swallowed up, but the bed was mine for as long as I wanted it.”

“And you were friends after that?”

“No—Cauldron no,” Rhys says. “We hated each other, and only behaved because if one of us got into trouble or provoked the other, then neither of us ate that night. My mother started tutoring Cassian, but it wasn’t until Azriel arrived a year later that we decided to be allies.”

Cassian’s grin stretches as he reaches around Amren to clap Azriel on his shoulder. A sigh falls from the shadowsinger’s lips and I smile fondly at the two of them. “A new bastard in the camp—and an untrained shadowsinger to boot. Not to mention he couldn’t even fly thanks to—”

I clear my throat interrupting him as Mor lazily cuts in, “Stay on track, Cassian.” He looks at the both of us, the apologize clear in his eyes, but he shrugged feigning indifference to Feyre. Mor kept her eyes on Cass as I shifted mine to Azriel, noting the tense shoulders and faraway look in his eyes.

“Rhys and I made his life a living hell, shadowsinger or no. But Rhys’s mother had known Az’s mother, and took him in. As we grew older, and the other males around us did, too, we realized everyone else hated us enough that we had better odds of survival sticking together.” Cassian finishes their story and I turn to Feyre.

“Do you have any gifts? Like—them?” She jerks her chin to Azriel and Rhys.

“A volatile temper doesn’t count,” Mor says and I grin at her, sometimes I wonder if we spent too much time together. Or if it’s Cassian that’s so predictable.

“No. I don’t—not beyond a heaping pile of the killing power. Bastard-born nobody, through and through.” I lean forward at the same time as Rhys, but Cassian continues, “Even so, the other males knew that we were different. And not because we were two bastards and a half-breed. We were stronger, faster—like the Cauldron knew we’d been set apart and wanted us to find each other. Rhys’s mother saw it, too. Especially as we reached the age of maturity, and all we wanted to do was fuck and fight.” I roll my eyes at that.

“Males are horrible creatures, aren’t they?” Amren says.

“Repulsive,” Mor clicks her tongue and I laugh softly.

Cassian only shrugs. “Rhys’s power grew every day—and everyone, even the camp-lords, knew he could mist everyone if he felt like it. And the two of us… we weren’t far behind.” He taps his Siphon with a finger. “A bastard Illyrian had never received one of these. Ever. For Az and me to both be appointed them, albeit begrudgingly, had every warrior in every camp across those mountains sizing us up. Only pure-blood pricks get Siphons—born and bred for the killing power. It still keeps them up at night, puzzling over where the hell we got it from.”

I feel Feyre’s eyes slide to me, probably remembering I am pure-blooded Illyrian. Cassian notes her gazing as well and confirms her suspicions. “ This fucking priss of a lady, as Rhys said, is the only pure-blooded Illyrian out of the four of us.”

“Shouldn’t you let her tell her own story?” I raise an eyebrow at Azriel’s low voice intercepting.

“If you are wondering,” I turn to Feyre properly. “I am not one of those, born and bred for that killing power.”

“You were bred for it.” Cassian intercepts, pointing out the fault in my statement.

I hum lowly, “While that may be true, sadly, for my parents anyway, I was born female. Not the son they wanted. My father is a camp-lord,” I see Feyre mentally note the present tense. “Although I was bred to kill, he wouldn’t allow me to train. He’s very traditional in that sense.”

Feyre’s gaze moves to my wings, trying to see if I bear any clipping marks, not that she’d know what to look for. Her scrutiny makes me tuck them tighter against me, straining the muscles as usual. “I haven’t been clipped.” Her gaze snaps up again to meet mine, my face void of emotion. ‘Rhys’s mother helped me in that matter, got me the illegal herbs she used herself when she was younger, stalling my cylcle. She helped me, along with these three, get away when my first bleeding came.”

“You got away.” It’s not a question. I frown, it doesn’t feel like that.

Cassian says, “Oh, she got away, alright.” Amren shoves his broad shoulder and I’m thankful for her respect for me.

“Something like that.” I respond to Feyre. Rhys and Azriel flinch in unison, I might’ve never actually talked about it, but they know.

Feyre furrows her brows, not able to hide her curiosity as to what went down all those years ago.

I don’t answer her questioning gaze, opting to stare at Rhys instead, I do not want to get into that with her on her first day with us. No matter how open Cassian is with her.

Azriel breaks the silence, taking over another part of the story. “Over a decade later, the War came. And Rhys’s father visited our camp to see how his son had fared after twenty years.”

“My father,” Rhys says, swirling his wine, “saw that his son had not only started to rival him for power, but had allied himself with perhaps the two deadliest Illyrians in history. He got it into his head that if we were given a legion in the War, we might very well turn it against him when we returned.”

Cassian snickers. “So the prick separated us. He gave Rhys command of a legion of Illyrians who hated him for being a half-breed, and threw me into a different legion to be a common foot soldier, even when my power outranked any of the war-leaders. Az, he kept for himself as his personal shadowsinger—mostly for spying and his dirty work. Turns out he already had Lyss in his tight quarters so she didn’t pose a threat to him. We only saw each other on battlefields for the seven years the War raged. They’d send around casualty lists among the Illyrians, and I read each one, wondering if I’d see their names on it. But then Rhys was captured—”

“That is a story for another time,” Rhys says sharply, making me lift my brows. We all had our boundaries in sharing past memories. Cass might be the most open one but that doesn’t mean he’ll tell her everything, there are some things even he wouldn’t tell her upon first meeting. “Once I became High Lord, I appointed these five to my Inner Circle, and told the rest of my father’s old court that if they had a problem with my friends, they could leave. They all did. Turns out, having a half-breed High Lord was made worse by his appointment of three females and two Illyrian bastards.”

“What—what happened to them , then?”

Rhys shrugs. “The nobility of the Night Court fall into three categories: those who hated me enough that when Amarantha took over, they joined her court and later found themselves dead; those who hated me enough to try to overthrow me and faced the consequences; and those who hated me, but not enough to be stupid and have since tolerated a half-breed’s rule, especially when it so rarely interferes with their miserable lives.”

“Are they—are they the ones who live beneath the mountain?” Feyre asks.

“In the Hewn City, yes. I gave it to them, for not being fools. They’re happy to stay there, rarely leaving, ruling themselves and being as wicked as they please, for all eternity.”

“The Court of Nightmares,” Mor says as all are faces grow tight, thinking about that horrid place.

“Ans what is this court?” Feyre gestures to all of us, and the darkness clears.

It was Cassian, who answers with bright eyes, “The Court of Dreams.”

Feyre contemplates for a moment. “And you?” She says, and I know it’s directed to us females.

Amren merely says, “Rhys offered to make me his Second. No one had ever asked me before, so I said yes, to see what it might be like. I found I enjoyed it.” Always a person of little words.

Mor leans back in her seat and I focus on her. “I was a dreamer born into the Court of Nightmares,” Mor says, twisting a curl around a finger. “So I got out.” I almost scoff at the simplicity of that statement. Her escape from the Hewn City was as simple as mine from the Illyrian camp.

I take a breath, “My father was camp-lord when those three were in the camp. Cassian was a nuisance, he followed me around everywhere to annoy my father. Even as a five-year-old he knew how to get on someone’s nerves.”

Cassian’s grin only reveals truth as he takes over. “And when Rhys and Az came to the camp, they joined in.” I purse my lips at his statement. “But she had fire, handed our asses to us, multiple times. Her father might’ve not let her train, that didn’t mean she didn’t find a way to do so anyway. Slowly, the annoyance turned into acceptance that we weren’t going to leave her alone as long as it meant pissing off her father.”

“He still seethes whenever we join her in the camp.” Rhys adds.

I smirk, “He still seethes because I outrank him now.” I hold Feyre’s gaze and see she knows there’s more to the story than what we’re telling, so I give her another crumble. “I am Cassian’s Second, Colonel of the Illyrian armies.”

A/N: Let me know what you thought! Maybe any theories on how this story is going to progress? Obviously this is a romance fanfic (I'm sorry if you didn't realise that already), but I wanted to give my character some depth and not just have her exist because of her love interest. Do keep in mind this is a slow-slow-burn. It will be some time before we will be happy go lucky, not to say that there won't be any tension. Because there will be, a lot of it. If you want to be added to the taglist, please leave a comment saying so!

Taglist: @inloveallthetime @mybestfriendmademe

#acotar #acotar imagine #acomaf #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x oc #acotar x reader #azriel #cassian #rhysand #rhys acotar #morrigan #mor acotar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar series #cassian acotar #flight of the night

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sanctus-ingenium · 3 months

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I have a few questions about the world and other stuff. I’m becoming obsessed with Inver now.

1. What type of entity is the Red King? Do they have a set form or can they change it? What is their personality like? Do they have a human-esque form that you’ve ever drawn before?

2. Are werewolves/lycans considered a type of fae? Or do they simply just worship the fae you call The Immortal Hound? I know they came from Armorica, but I’m curious about their origins. Are they magical or evolutionary?

(If answering any of these spoil any of the books, feel free not to answer)

hiiii thank you for asking!!

1 - The Red King is a barrow lord. There's not strict hierarchy (or strict rules at all) about faeries, but a barrow lord is a faery famous enough to be known by their name & to have attracted many followers and superstitious legends. Barrow lords are usually referred to euphemistically and not by their name (i.e why we don't say 'Puck', we say The Lord of Lies) to avoid attracting their attention. The Ruad itself was named after the Red King who traditionally holds dominion over that entire forest. Sometimes it's called the Red Forest, but that refers strictly to the king and not the actual colour of the forest. The Red King is considered to be in direct opposition to the Immortal Hound, they're ancient enemies.

Until recently, the Red King was considered to be the highest & final authority in all of Inver. Although stories and legends always crop up around the forest, there have been no confirmed firsthand accounts of the Red King in almost a century.

Followers of the Red King were once numerous, but in the 1860s the practise has waned as the Immortal Hound's followers gain more and more power. Small sects remain, particularly in communities close to the edge of the Ruad. The Sons of the Stag/"Stagsons" criminal gang in Invergorken city are adherents of the Red King, and operate under the assumption that the King of Inver's laws are false, because he's not the true king (this is not a valid defense in court).

The Red King is emblematic of Prey. In most stories he takes the form of a red deer with the rotting head of a stag rival entangled in his antlers (that's his crown). Followers of the stag are bound to his core principles of cold, hard survival and fighting for their lives; prey animals get no respite if they show any signs of weakness, and are often more violent and dangerous than any predator, because in every fight, their life hangs in the balance, and not just their hunger, and the Red King is the prey victorious.

Famously holding humanity in utter contempt, the Red King does not take a humanoid form, though some legends of green men are occasionally ascribed to the Red King.

2 - The werewolves are considered to be humans which have been given the ability to become beasts; not faeries of their own accord but definitely in commune with the Immortal Hound (who is a barrow lord). They don't all worship the Immortal Hound (as you'll probably see..) because lycanthropy is hereditary. If your parents were lycanthropes you probably will be as well, but you share a werewolf form with them - whatever werewolf your dad turned into, your werewolf form will look identical, because it is dictated in part by your own physical qualities and in part by a manifestation of your family's pact with the Immortal Hound. Size, physical power, triggering moon phase - these are determined by the terms of the pact your ancestor made (often under the purview of the monarchy, so naturally the higher ranking nobles have the best werewolf traits

So like anybody can make a pact with a faery (if the faery gives enough of a shit to accept), usually the human gets some knowledge in return, mostly about spellcrafting (this is what the title 'witch' refers to in Inver). Technically this means that the werewolves are just witches with very specialised pacts, but not a lot of people think of them that way (Félix is not in this category, he's something else).

Usually 'werewolf' is an umbrella term for anybody in pact with the Immortal Hound, but 'lycanthrope' refers solely to the family line 'body transforming into a big canine beastie' type of werewolf. A 'fleshwolf' is the other type, they do not physically transform but wear the flesh of the Immortal Hound like power armour. The pacts of some lycanthropes stipulate that they can bite someone to turn them into a fleshwolf (fun fact)

#setting: inver #u wanna know what's crazy.. in book 2 we meet a third king who is also red-themed #bearing in mind that king régis (the head of the monarchy) is also red themed #this wasn't intentional btw

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lorcandidlucienwill · 6 months

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Lucien finally loses his shit and does something batshit crazy part 4

“When he spoke again, there was nothing but Autumn Court fire in his voice.”

Lucien has approached Nesta about the mating bond that has her so worked up!

Nesta’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I am not mated to that brute.” She spat the word brute like a curse.

Lucien sighed. “Why would I make this up?” He dared a step closer. She didn’t step away, holding his gaze. It felt like her stormy blue eyes were branding him with the look that glittered in them. “Search deep within yourself. It’s how you knew he was about to die at the hands of the Cauldron. It’s how he knew you were in mortal peril at the library. You can feel the thread, deep in your gut. It may not be strong, but it’s there. Lingering. Close your eyes. Concentrate. Then you’ll feel it.

To his surprise, Nesta obeyed with little hesitation. “I see what you mean,” she said quietly. “It’s… like a little tingly. The sensation. It’s faint, but it’s there, glowing just slightly.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed on Nesta. The magic eye was able to register the thread, thin and feeble as it was. Lucien sent a silent thanks to Nuan, his incredible tinkerer friend who had created this masterpiece for him. “I can see it too.”

Nesta’s brows flew up. “Wow, that magic eye must be really special, huh?”

“Yeah,” Lucien grinned.

“What did you mean when you said you could resolve the mating bond? I thought nothing could break it.”

“No one has succeeded yet,” Lucien corrected her. “But based off of the nature of the bond, someone very powerful with the correct gifts could technically do so.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “You have fire in your blood.” Not an insult, but a question.

Lucien’s grin turned wider. “That’s not all that runs through these veins.” The power he had only revealed once, and as far as he knew, no one had ever suspected of being anything other than chance.

Nesta looked him over. A frank, cool assessment. “And what makes you think I want to break the bond?”

Lucien snorted. “Please. You’re living in the slums when you could be living as royalty. You didn’t show up for any of the holidays. I already know from your sister that you despise the Fae. All of this together shows me you hate being here as much as I do.”

Nesta blinked. Not in surprise, but to buy herself time. “I see why they call you the fox.”

Lucien smirked. “Who told you that?”

Nesta shrugged, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.” Lucien idly began braiding a few strands of his hair.

Nesta crossed her arms. Then said, “Cassian tried to give me a gift.”

Lucien stilled his hands, waiting.

“I told him I didn’t want it, that I didn’t want anything of his.” Nesta took a deep breath. “He was furious. He threw his gift into a river. Then he followed me all the way to my house. Insufferable man.”

Lucien scowled. “Bastard. I see where the Illyrians get their terrible reputation.”

A small smile from Nesta at that. “The worst part though, was that I couldn’t feel anything. Until now, I thought I had lost the ability to be normal.” A look at him, grateful this time. “Thank you.”

Lucien blushed. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You listened,” Nesta said simply. “Nobody else bothered.”

She offered a hand. He took it. “Trying to break the mating bond- it won’t hurt me? Or Cassian?”

Lucien shook his head. “It’s not a part of you. Think of it like a bridge between souls. A connection. You lived your whole life without such a connection. You will be able to do so once it’s broken.”

Nesta nodded, closing her eyes. “Then, try it. Do your worst.”

Lucien concentrated. He had been tunneling deep into his power for the past several days, rallying enough power to try and break the bond. He now poured all of his magic into that one thread that connected two souls together. He had already warded the Night Court palace where he was sure Cassian would be for an extended period of time, so he wouldn’t detect anything amiss. And since Nesta hadn’t accepted the bond, there were countless explanations for what happened besides him.

At last, he reached the bottom of the thread. The absolute base of the mating bond, the essence of what it was.

And he found out what the mating bond truly was.

The Mother smiles upon her loving descendants. When she is in a loving mood, when her home is bathed in beautiful colors fit for spring, she sees fit to create bridges. Only her bridges aren’t made of anything found on this land, but rather, the unconscious needs that simmer in the abyss of our minds, things we never knew we wanted or needed because it’s something we dare not voice even in our own heads for fear that someone may hear and snatch away our dreams. These thoughts are blended with the threads of destiny. All who are Fae are born have a mate, but only those with great destinies are fortunate enough to meet their mate. Most faerie mates are born in an entirely different era, never knowing that their mate had not been born yet, and had they lasted another 200 years, they may have lived long enough to meet them. Then at last, these threads are woven into the tapestry of desire, for even the most perfect people for each other cannot last without the chemistry that sparks romance. Because a mating bond consists of these three different kind of threads, it is exceptionally rare to meet your mate, have that mate be somebody who actually wants to be with you in every possible way, and have the relationship last forever. After all, a mating bond is not a true mating bond until it has been consummated.

And then the Mother spoke to him.

You dare try to hand back my gift?

The voice was soft and hard, hot and cold, soothing and harsh, beautiful and terrible, all at once.

Lucien managed not to shudder in fear of the voice that spoke in his mind. Steeled himself. When he spoke again, there was nothing but Autumn Court fire in his voice.

A gift she did not ask for and does not want, with a male who will never deserve her.

Impudent male. You dare speak back to me?

I’m not known to fear any man or beast in this world.

I am not of this world, child. I am this world.

See, you say that, but to me you just sound like a typical arrogant superbeing who’s used to getting what they want.

A musical laugh. I’ve never encountered a creation with quite so much impertinence and bravery as you.

Happy to be of service.

He could’ve sworn there was a smile in her voice as she spoke again. For simply daring to speak to me like that, I shall not eviscerate you.

Gee, thanks.

Quiet, child. I have a great destiny lined up for you, and it would be a shame to ruin it now. You wish to break the thief’s mating bond? I suppose it is fair enough. She takes my powers, and I take her mating bond back in exchange.

That’s settled, then. I also want to break Feyre’s mating bond.

Ah, Feyre Cursebreaker. The girl with two mates.

Lucien’s heart stopped. T-two mates??

Surely, you knew the truth, my lovely fox. I gifted you with brains that none can rival. Feyre is indeed Cauldron-Blessed. She not only has two mates, but they’re both High Lords. Rhysand and Tamlin. Didn’t you know? Why else were you so certain Tamlin would seek out Feyre on Calanmai? Did he not bite her on her neck, claiming her as his own in a way only mates do?

But-

Feyre has two distinct sides to her. The person she was as a human, and the person she became after she let too much darkness infect her heart. No light exists without darkness- but Feyre’s has been twisted and convoluted into the kind of darkness that can only be described as wretched. She has lost her sense of right and wrong. She can never picture herself or her husband as wrong in any situation. My creation has been led too far astray. So perhaps I ought to listen to you and break the bond.

Lucien sighed with relief. This was going pretty easy. Too easily if he was being honest. Honesty wasn’t helping him in this situation, however.

But understand, Lucien Spell-Cleaver. Should you have me do this, you will owe me a debt. For every choice you make, there is a cost. Always.

Lucien did not like the sound of that. But he said, I shall pay that price when the time comes.

I know you will, my darling fox. But will you be prepared when payday arrives?

@readingwritingwatching

#fanfic #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #anti nessian #nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron #anti cassian #tamlin #anti feysand

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shyvioletcat · 7 months

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ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 27

~ Person A is touch starved but doesn't know how to reach out to Person B ~

Well. A few notes before we can continue. This includes a little bit of a time jump, I might go and fill in some gaps but I think it passes. Also, we took a hard right into Smutsville. Lastly, the last bit seems a little iffy but my tired brain can't look at it anymore but I think I got there in the end. Thanks so much for reading, I love how much you guys are loving this au.

CW: smut, swearing, secondhand embarrassment

The Sweetest Promise Masterlist

~~~~~

They had spent the day together. Forest Fae has held another event and although Aelin’s presence wasn’t mandatory for this one, Rowan had asked her to come anyway just because he wanted company. Yes, he’d received a massive figurative thumbs up from his boss for taking the initiative this time. But it was more than that. It was becoming clear to Rowan the more time he spent with Aelin through their arrangement, the more time he wanted to.

It had been nearly four months since that first panicked, desperate night and since then they’d seen each other every week. They had started with an official weekly date, and then once that initial awkwardness was over Rowan had very casually asked if Aelin wanted to go out here and there. She had said yes, and he added money to her account accordingly. So it was once a week minimum, more if he played his cards right, but Aelin always seemed up for whatever he was offering. Even though he was her Sugar Daddy, Rowan could comfortably say they were friends now as well, all thanks to Aelin’s undeterred determination. It had been a pleasure getting to know her and being forcibly dragged back into a state of sociability. He was stubborn and he wouldn’t openly admit to it, but it had been good for him. And so had Aelin.

She didn’t put up with his brooding or old man grumpiness, as she liked to call it. Aelin would find a way to draw him out in a way that Rowan would barely notice what she was doing. A playful argument would start up or she’d find some obscure topic of conversation that would have him laughing. Rowan was again starting to see that there was a world outside his office, and it was worth living in.

Today’s event was a small expo held for investors and promotional influencers. The powers to be had invited Rowan so that he could see every facet of the company and to get his advice later on some legal matters. If Aelin hadn't come he would have spent most of his day bored out of his mind as he watched adults and children inspect the toys on offer. Instead he had Aelin participating in demonstrations or playing with the toys, making conversation and jokes which made the day not just bearable, but enjoyable. All day she had walked through the expo with something Rowan could closely describe as childlike wonder. Despite everything on display, he hasn’t been able to look away from her.

Now they were back at his place, curled up on the couch. Rowan was watching TV and Aelin was reading some article for her thesis. It wasn’t the first time she’d been here, Rowan had asked her over a few times just to hang out when he had some work to do and couldn’t be bothered to go out. It was all under the guise of their arrangement, but it was just loneliness striking again. Aelin didn’t seem to mind though, she admitted that she’d been struggling to get out herself and the change of scenery was nice. The dinner he ordered in was also an added bonus, just slightly above the pleasure of his company according to her.

Aelin’s head was resting on his thigh and she had an arm stretched up, leaning on his, as her hand twisted idle patterns in the air. She would think nothing of the way she was touching him. She’d been doing it all day, just small casual touches that just seemed to be part of her nature. Aelin would hold his hand to lead him somewhere or grab his arm when she saw something that excited her. Rowan had come to realise that Aelin was very much a physical person. What she didn’t know, that given the right circumstances so was he. He hadn’t shied away from her today, or any other day, and had even started to reciprocate. Their first evening together they’d been nearly inseparable to sell the piece. Touching was becoming a casual and comfortable exchange. Sometimes it was only the brush of a hand or their shoulders bumping. Each time it gave Rowan just that little bit of a thrill, which was more than slightly embarrassing. He looked forward to the physical closeness Aelin’s company came with. Because the sad truth of it was that he was touch starved.

He hadn’t had a serious relationship in years, and flings were few and far between. It had been at least 11 months since he’d fucked someone. Rowan’s dedication to his work just didn’t allow him the time to invest the effort that it would take for him to pursue someone. Relationships were tedious, it was probably why he was holding on so tight to this no strings attached arrangement with Aelin. But it certainly left him… lacking in some regards.

There was a groan from Aelin, breaking Rowan out of his humiliating thoughts. She’d dropped the pages she was reading on her chest and used her now free hand to flick out her hair that evidently got caught somewhere. It made her golden hair fan out across Rowan’s lap and hands, and before he knew what was happening his fingers were playing in the ends of it. It was so soft and silky, he had no idea how Aelin got it to feel like this. When his brain finally caught up with him he dropped the strands, berating himself for presuming he could do such a thing.

“I don’t mind,” Aelin said, not looking away from the paper she had picked back up. “I like my hair being played with.”

“Yeah?” Rowan questioned lamely.

The corner of Aelin’s mouth twitched up in amusement over his awkwardness. “Yeah.”

Tentatively Rowan started up again, just flicking through the ends, but then he got braver. He twirled a lock around his finger, watching as the light caught the subtle tones in the gold. Next he carved out a section, split it into three and wove it into a simple braid. To his surprise the arm that Aelin rested against him twisted and he felt the tips of her fingers run through his hair. It nearly made him jump, and he definitely stiffened which he hoped Aelin didn’t notice. Of course, nothing got past her and she did.

Aelin looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. “You don’t like it?”

“I do,” Rowan said quickly. “Just… unexpected.”

“So, I can keep going?” Aelin asked and he just nodded.

For a while they played with each other’s hair, and Rowan turned his attention back to the TV. He just twirled the same lock round and round, finding the repetition calming. Then Aelin stopped playing with his hair and the article she had been reading was unceremoniously tossed on the floor. Before Rowan could even question what Ashe was doing Aelin had reached her arms above her head, back arching as she stretched.

She was halfway across his lap now and it was hard not to watch. Aelin was wearing a sundress with the neckline cut in a deep V. During the expo she was wearing a light sweater over the top but his apartment had been warm enough that she’d discarded it. With the thinness of the straps it was quickly apparent Aelin wasn’t wearing a bra. And now draped across his lap it was a fact impossible to ignore.

The cut of the dress showed the curves of the breasts, low and deep. As Aelin twisted a just a little, the dress shifted, revealing more, pulling across her chest and—

Rowan snapped his eyes shut. Aelin was in danger of a serious wardrobe malfunction and he’d already witnessed too much. It was making things difficult for him—there was a lot of blood rushing south and he was half hard. He tried to block all the images he’d just seen and then Aelin went and put the final nail in his despicable coffin. He felt her shudder, and then she moaned. The only way he could describe it was pornographic.

He was in serious trouble now.

Aelin settled back on the couch and Rowan deemed it safe to open his eyes. He had a situation going on and he wanted to make sure it was taken care of before Aelin noticed. Rowan was cursing himself for deciding to change into something more comfortable because his sweatpants were hiding absolutely nothing. He felt like a teenager, but this was even more embarrassing because he’d done nothing but play with her hair. The first real luck of his day struck because there was a pillow tucked right next to him. He yanked it out from between his thigh and the couch and nearly jammed it into his lap.

Then that luck flipped on him again as the pillow bounced on the top of Aelin’s head, drawing her attention. “You right?”

Rowan was sure his cheeks were flaming. “Ah, thought this would be more comfortable than my thigh.”

“Thanks,” Aelin said, shifting up a little so that she could lay her head on the pillow properly.

All that did was move her further into his lap and presented Rowan with a conflict of where to put his arm. He could drape it along the back of the couch but with the furniture flush against the wall there wasn’t really that much room. And there was even less room between their bodies and the cushions. The only valid and comfortable option was draping it over Aelin.

Rowan very stiffly rested his arm on Aelin’s waist, deeming that the safest spot. He also made a point of not looking at her once his arm was situated. From this angle Aelin’s cleavage looked fantastic and neither that sight or thought was helping the hard-on the pillow was covering. It seemed Aelin didn’t mind the position of his arm in the slightest, in fact she went as far as to rest her arm on top of his. Rowan tried to focus on the TV as a distraction and he might have succeeded if she didn’t start running her fingers over his skin, the tickling sensation making him break out in goosebumps. Her hand went back and forth, soothing but at the same time almost tantalising. It was doing nothing to calm the hardness of his cock, the only thing that would help him in that regard was if Aelin moved to the other end of the couch and didn’t touch, speak or look at him for 10 minutes straight.

Then out of nowhere Aelin dragged her nails down the length of her arm, the surprise of it so sudden Rowan couldn’t help his reaction. His whole body shuddered, his hips jerking up just enough to jostle the woman in his lap. There was no way in every hell that ever existed that Aelin hadn’t noticed his response this time.

Rowan stared at the screen in front of him so intently he’s eyes were stinging. Holy gods, this was embarrassing. He hadn’t had sex in months, and this combination of being touch starved and horny was fatal.

“Rowan.” He could hear the godsdamned smile in Aelin’s voice.

“Yes,” he managed to get out, still refusing to look at her.

“Are you okay?”

He had to look down, not doing so would be rude and highly suspicious. “Fine.”

Aelin sat up, her stunning eyes giving him a once over. “You just seem a little stiff.”

Rowan tensed, praying she hadn’t meant the pun.

“Do you mind if I take this pillow?” She asked a little too innocently.

As Aelin reached for the pillow that was his lifeline Rowan’s hand smacked right on top of it, hard enough it made him groan. Despite obvious and ongoing hardships she laughed at him.

“Do you have a boner right now?” Each word tilted with her laughter.

“Maybe,” was all Rowan could admit to.

Aelin giggled, and even that was turning him on now his blood was heated. All Rowan wanted to do right now was die.

When she could, Aelin cleared her throat to try a calm banish her amusement. “When you went out with your parents you mentioned that it had been a while. How long are we talking?”

In the name of friendship and to hopefully end his misery Rowan answered. “Nearly a year.”

Aelin at out a low whistle. “That’s impressive, but I’m looking at over a year.”

The answer surprised him enough that he was ready to make eye contact. “No way.”

“Haven’t quite had the time to pursue anything, and college boys are idiots,” Aelin said.

Having been a college boy himself, Rowan was inclined to agree.

“Like, I’m not talking going that long without an orgasm of course,” Aelin said, and Rowan nearly choked at the conversation shift. “But in the end it just becomes an itch to scratch, you know what I mean?”

The pause was long enough that Rowan realised that Aelin was waiting for an answer, and given her candidness he might as well answer honestly. “Yeah I do.”

“It’s just not the same,” Aelin said forlornly.

It wasn’t. Rowan had been stuck with his hand and fantasies long enough that he acutely understood everything Aelin was saying.

Aelin was smiling again and Rowan braced himself. “Just a few touches and you’re resorting to a pillow. You must be desperate.”

“You could say that,” Rowan said.

“You might even say you’re feeling a little touch starved.” As Aelin spoke she reached out and ran a finger from the corner of his jaw and down his neck. It took immense amounts of self control, but Rowan managed to suppress his shiver.

“Now you’re just teasing,” he deflected, not wanting to admit to the obvious.

“We’re friends, right?”

Aelin hadn’t taken her hand off from where it rested on his shoulder, and Rowan chose that path to follow as he looked up to her face. “We are.”

“I mean… it’s obvious you find me attractive.” There was a pointed look down at his crotch. “We could scratch that itch together.”

That was one offer Rowan was not expecting to get and he couldn’t find the words for a solid thirty seconds and even then it wasn’t much. “Um, what?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Aelin asked directly. “You’re in quite the predicament and I am very willing to help. Because I find you very attractive too.”

There it was, laid out plain and simple. And that little compliment at the end was just the icing on the cake. There was mutual attraction between them, and they were both consenting adults. What was stopping them if they were both willing?

“Just an itch to scratch?” Rowan reiterated.

This time when Aelin reached for the pillow Rowan didn’t stop her. “I’ve been wanting to scratch it for so long.”

The pillow was gone and then Aelin was throwing a leg over his thighs. Her hands were on his shoulder, bracing her above him. Rowan shifted a little to accommodate, the nearness of Aelin already so intoxicating.

“If you’re sure,” Rowan said, looking for any signs of hesitation.

There was none, and Aelin just gave him a coy grin. “I’m sure.”

She dropped into his lap, making Rowan groan at the friction. Aelin gasped as she rolled her hips up the length of him. Once they both recovered from that first contact they looked at each other, the air tight with tension. They could still back out, things hadn’t gone too far. By the gods, Rowan didn’t want to, but one word from Aelin and he’d stop.

Then Aelin banished every thought of that when she crashed her lips with his.

Rowan responded immediately, the kiss becoming hungry and impatient in a heartbeat. His hands went to Aelin’s waist, helping her grind on him. He could feel the heat of her and it was enough for him to throw caution to the wind. Rowan’s hands slid up Aelin’s back, urging her down harder and closer, letting him kiss down her neck. Aelin moaned into his ear, making his cock twitch and drawing another sinful sound from her lips. Then his hands were in her hair, angling her head to just the way he liked. She liked it too, the pace of her hips quickened. Rowan needed to feel her, his hands left her hair and gripped her waist, then travelled upwards. When he cupped one of her breasts in his hands Aelin whimpered, the sound getting lost in the kiss. Then he teased her through the layers of the dress, his thumb pressing down as it dragged over the tight peak he could only just feel. That was Aelin’s undoing.

“Pants, now,” Aelin outright commanded and Rowan was all too eager to obey.

She shuffled back so that Rowan could tug his pants and underwear down enough to free him. Aelin’s gaze dropped to his cock, boosting his ego as her eyes widened. But she didn’t say anything, only stroked him lightly with the tips of her fingers before her hand drifted under the skirt of her dress. Rowan had a fair idea of what she was doing, and that was confirmed when she moved right over him, lowering herself enough that the head of him nudged at her bare entrance.

Rowan moved his hands so that he could position her just right, but Aelin stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Mm-mmm, I’m calling the shots today.”

The words sunk in and Rowan's mind just about short circuited. Aelin’s dominance was unexpected, but he was into it. He was more than willing to hand over control to her, he’d give her anything if it meant he could feel her wrapped around him. Aelin shifted her hips and Rowan stayed completely still. She had the audacity to wink at him before she sunk onto him, all of him.

Rowan's head fell back at the feeling, thudding against the wall. But that small hurt was nothing compared to the feeling of Aelin’s tight heat enveloping him. She felt amazing—perfect. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last.

“Gods, Rowan,” Aelin groaned, making him open his eyes.

Her chest was heaving and her cheeks were flushed, and Rowan wanted to kiss her again. But something in her eyes told him to wait, and Rowan thanked the gods he did.

Aelin shrugged one thin strap off her shoulder, pulling it past her elbow, and did the same with the other. Rowan’s gaze dropped, his eyes taking in the expanse of skin that had been teasing him earlier. Her dusty pink nipples were taut, and the way Aelin arched towards him was the perfect invitation. Rowan ran a knuckle of the peak of her left breast and his mouth descended on the other.

He sucked and flicked his tongue over her nipple, and that had Aelin’s hands diving into his hair—keeping him right where he was. Not that Rowan wanted to go anywhere, not when his ministrations made her hips grind on him like that.

Rowan kissed his way up to the swell of Aelin’s cleavage, cupping both breasts and catching her peaks between his thumbs and forefingers. It had Aelin gasping and riding him with abandon. He could feel pressure building at the base of his spine, his release cresting. It was too soon, he didn’t want this to be over so soon.

“Wait, Aelin. Slow down,” Rowan panted, hands regretfully slipping away from her chest.

Aelin did as he’d requested, her breathing heavy. But then she was grinning at him. “That long, huh?”

Rowan blushed furiously.

“Don’t worry,” Aelin said, cupping one of his burning cheeks. “I won’t last long either. Not when you feel this good.”

Aelin rolled her hips slowly, setting a lazy pace. It was the best kind of torture, it was enough to have his blood simmering but left him begging for more.

“Hands on my thighs, Rowan,” Aelin said. “And don’t you dare move them.”

He did as she said, sliding his hands from her knees and up under the dress that was fanned out over his lap. Once his hands were where she commanded she began moving just a little faster. Rowan hated that he couldn’t see everything, couldn’t see where he and Aelin were joined. And yet somehow, in these circumstances not seeing might have been just as hot.

Aelin moaned, causing a sudden jerk of his hips. “Good boy.”

Rowan tried not to laugh but he couldn’t help it.

“I played into it too much, didn’t I?” Aelin said through her own giggle.

“Maybe just a little,” Rowan admitted, leaning in to kiss her.

That was enough to get the fires burning again after the awkward interlude. Aelin’s tongue pushed into his mouth, then she nipped at his lips. It made Rowan thrust his hips, making Aelin moan deep from her throat. Then she broke the kiss and Rowan fucked up into her again, and that had her throwing her head back, her long hair tickling his thighs.

“You’re certainly not a boy, are you?” Aelin said, recovering enough that she could look at him. “A boy couldn’t make me feel like this.”

Rowan’s cock twitched at the praise. He was usually the one using dirty talk to his advantage, having the woman in his bed writhing and begging for more. This shook things up and Rowan was quickly becoming a major fan.

“You feel so good, Rowan,” Aelin gasped. “Filling me so well.”

He wanted to move his hands, and Aelin knew it. To stop them from wandering he had to grip her thighs harder. Aelin moaned his name again and it had his balls tightening. He wouldn’t last much longer.

Then Aelin smiled and echoed his thoughts. “You’re doing so well, just a little longer.”

Rowan was gone, this woman was unravelling him faster than anyone he’d been with before. Or it could just be because he hadn’t had sex in so long. But he had a sneaking suspicion it was the former. It was hard to deny when a woman this beautiful was in his lap, lips swollen from kissing, hair a mess from his fingers, tits bouncing with every well timed thrust.

“Aelin, I’m gonna—“ Rowan went to lift her off his lap so he wouldn’t come inside her.

Her hand slammed onto the wall beside his head. It braced her enough that it kept her in his lap, had her grinding down on his swollen cock.

“I’ve got you right where I need you,” Aelin told him.

“Aelin,” he ground out, the world around him was getting a little hazy but her voice cut through it all.

“I want you to,” her voice was husky and dragged over his skin. “I want you to come, Rowan. I need it.”

It was the plea in Aelin's voice that broke him, release rushing through him. She was right there with him as her inner walls tightened around him, intensifying every sensation. It was bliss—Rowan never wanted it to end.

When it did and Rowan’s mind cleared he found Aelin slumped against his chest with his arms wrapped around her. For a while they just sat there together, catching their breath and just basking in that post sex glow.

Aelin spoke first, still sounding a little breathless. “Itch sufficiently scratched.”

That made Rowan laugh. “You could say that.”

Sighing Aelin sat up. “Um, yeah so don’t worry. I’m on the pill. We probably should have covered that earlier.”

The change in subject was somewhat sobering. “All good, I trusted you.”

Rowan reached over and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the small side table. They didn’t talk as they cleaned up and Aelin ducked off to the bathroom. The solitude gave Rowan a moment to process what had happened. This was certainly a huge jump from a friend Rowan paid to someone who—gods he didn’t know what to call it.

Aelin was… his sugar baby when you boiled it right down. Yes, they’d become friends of a sort. But had he gone and ruined it by giving in to Aelin’s suggestion? Had she done it out of some warped obligation? He had clearly asked if she was sure and she’d consented, but their arrangement was skewing the way he looked at it. There was something else, something he had been trying very hard to ignore and discredit, but he supposed he could thank the post orgasm clarity for the oncoming admission.

The attraction Rowan had towards Aelin went beyond the physical. Over the past few weeks it had been sneaking up on him when he realised how much he looked forward to seeing her and how quickly he checked his phone when a message from her came in. It was becoming apparent to him that he liked Aelin. Liked her in the kind of way that he wanted to ask her on a real date.

But… she needed his money. And there was zero guarantee she felt the same. If Rowan messed this up, gods knew who Aelin might end up with if she went and got herself another sugar daddy. Would she find herself in a similar situation that they had just found themselves in?

Rowan hated the thought, just the hint of it had bitter jealousy turning his gut. More than once she said she’d been very lucky to end up with him, her friend had apparently shared some horror stories. With him Aelin had security and safety. Why should he ruin that for her?

Footsteps announced her re-entrance to the room, dressed and looking far more put together than she had moments ago. “I don’t mean to fuck and run, but my supervisor wants a draft of my next argument point and I left my textbook back at my apartment.”

“Sounds riveting,” Rowan said, withholding his cringe at his lame response.

“It’s not, it’s a boring part and I’ve been procrastinating,” Aelin said. “So… see you next week?”

“Of course,” Rowan said with a smile.

Aelin nodded and gathered up her things. “Don’t get up, I’ll see myself out.” She was about to disappear into his entryway when she stopped. “And Rowan, thanks for the ride.”

The salacious wink Aelin gave him had Rowan laughing, how like her to smooth out an awkward situation. It was a skill Rowan didn’t possess and had to admire. He had to be honest with himself. If he were to even contemplate taking this further it might just get so awkward and uncomfortable there would be no recovery. Rowan decided that things were best left as they were, there was no reason to ruin what they had for what could turn out to just be a fleeting crush because Aelin was the first person to pay him any attention in gods knew how long. She’d described it as an itch to be scratched and they could leave it at just that. Complicating their relationship wouldn’t be worth anyone’s time.

~~~~~

Aelin managed to keep her freak out under control until she got inside her apartment. Very literally, just inside. She closed her front door with her back and just stayed leaning there, a hand over her mouth. What in Mala’s name has they done?

What had started as teasing had ended with Rowan’s dick buried so deep inside her she’d been ready to scream. She might of actually, her memory got a bit hazy in the middle there. Seeing him so riled up had flicked a switch in her brain and she had wanted him. It was clear the man needed to be touched, and he’d been so responsive to all those casual innocent caresses. The poor guy, she’d made him reach his breaking point.

The attraction between them was undeniable and if they were two consenting adults, why shouldn’t they have a bit of fun on the side? They were a walking cliche for Sugar and Sugar Baby arrangement after what they’d just done. But gods had it felt good.

That led Aelin to yet another conundrum. The issue of payment. Aelin had it written into her contract that if the date included sex there was a higher charge, all she had to do was tap one button and Rowan would get the bill. But did that mean the sex had to be prearranged? Did a spur of the moment ride on his expensive couch count? This was complicated and Aelin just needed to think.

She wandered off to her bedroom, rifling through her drawers for clothes to put on after her shower. They were friends, but they were also in a business arrangement. How awkward would it be if she sent through the sex charge? Rowan was her friend, she liked spending time with him, but this all started because he had hired her. They’d signed contracts and come to arrangements that suited them both. The fact they had ended up as friends in the end was an added bonus. Aelin stood there for a moment, clothes bundled in her hands. It shouldn’t be awkward. As a lawyer, there was no doubt in her mind that Rowan had each and every clause of the contract. He would have seen the details about the extra charges. For all Aelin knew was expecting it.

The sex was great, Aelin had enjoyed it. She hadn’t done it for the money but… money was always good. The more she thought about it the fewer reasons she was finding not to honour the extra charge. Aelin threw her clothes on the bed and pulled her phone out from the pocket of her dress. She opened Sweet As Sugar and sent through the payment request before she could think better of it.

There, it was done. Nothing to do about it now.

Her phone was exchanged for her clothes and she headed to her bathroom. Aelin couldn’t stop thinking about it—the way Rowan had felt inside her, the sounds he made, the touch of his hands on her body. For the first time after coming out of her dry spell it had been amazing. Fantastic. Spectacular. She could list adjectives all day and it still would aptly describe how fucking Rowan had felt. The itch was scratched, and then some.

And Aelin thought this might be an itch she wouldn’t mind scratching again.

~~~~~ well, that's where we're at. I had so much fun embarrassing the absolute hell out of Rowan

@rowaelinscourt

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all54321 · 5 months

Text

Mated For Life

[AO3]

Desert duo week is here!!!

@desert-duo-week

Summary: Vex and Allay are forbidden from interacting, let alone being friends or anything more. Yet it doesn’t stop Scar and Grian from meeting up in an area of the forest neither of their clans occupy.

Becoming mates would be a death sentence if anyone finds out, but they love each other to care about how others would react.

Day 1: Dancing/Holding

A Vex!Scar x Allay!Grian AU but vex and allay are different kinds of fae and I make up a whole ton of stuff for them. Vex and allay are natural enemies, so generally talking to one of the other kind doesn’t happen (and isn’t allowed).

This fic is basically like a wedding, but magic heavy and more intimate.

—————

Grian holds out his hand, bowing slightly, and looks up at Scar through his eyelashes. Scar slowly reaches out, fingertips lightly brushing his palm, a kind of reverence in his expression.

It feels out of place with everything else they’ve done together. Although none of it was as cementing or intimate as this, even with their mimicry of human affections.

This is permanent.

Grian feels a tingling pressure as Scar settles his hand on Grian’s, the feeling shooting down his spine. There’s no going back if they start this. Just one step forwards and the ceremony will begin. One step away from hanging a noose around their necks.

He straightens up, keeping his eyes firmly focused on Scar. It doesn’t matter what his clan will do if they learn of this, all that matters to Grian is having Scar. They’ve grown so close that Grian can’t see a life that he’d be happy in where he doesn’t have the vex.

Grian twists his hand around to lace his fingers with Scar’s and takes a step forwards, placing his other hand on his hip. The air tingles with magic as Scar steps closer, trailing his free hand sliding up along Grian’s arm.

Vex magic weighs heavy on his senses, but he’s not spent this long with Scar for it to be more then a chill down his spine. Hopefully this will make the unease going away, although that’s not why he wants this.

Neither of them move for a few minutes, just standing in each other’s embrace as the magic surrounding them becomes palpable. Grian can feel his own magic mix with Scar’s with how closely entwined they are with each other.

Scar’s eyes turn completely white and begin to glow, making them completely obscured. His expression is soft despite the sharp teeth peeking through his smile.

Grian can easily read the love and affection even in the white void that is his eyes. This happens too often for him to not be, at this point.

He can feel his own body react as he lets his magic pour out more, making his blue skin glow all the more brighter. Scar runs his hand along Grian’s arm again, making a rumbling noise, almost sounding pleased.

In response Grian moves his hand behind Scar, trailing it along his spine until it’s right between his wings. The noise cuts off as Scar shivers, skin darkening lightly with a blush. The air feels charged as they continue to stare into each others’ eyes.

Grian wants to devour it.

Grian takes a step forwards, and, as if they’re one being, Scar steps back. They’re nearly pressed together, standing like this, but with how their magic is flowing from them, it’s pretty much like they are.

He moves another step, and Scar follows just as easily. It’s not a dance of control or of who is more powerful, it’s a dance of magic and connection. It’s a dance to become one, to be together forever.

Grian leads and Scar follows, but they do it as one, fully in sync. Their magic and emotions melding together into a complicated mix of something strange, yet delicious.

They glide over the grass smoothly for several minutes, just basking in the feeling of being with the other, of feeling the all encompassing feeling of their magic. Yet they can’t spend all of eternity like this, even if they want to.

Scar steps further back one of the times, sliding his free hand down until he can grab Grian’s other hand as well. When his eyes flick back up, Scar’s grin is wider, yet still as soft.

The switch in who leads is seamless as Scar spreads out his wings, mirrored not a split second later by Grian. In sync they beat their wings down, taking them both off of the ground.

They fly higher up, just an arms length away with entwined fingers. The feelings are even more intense up here where there’s no other connection point besides each other. Nothing to interrupt the flow of magic surrounding their very beings.

To connect his soul to another’s is a raw and overwhelming feeling, yet Grian lets himself drown in it. To let himself be unabashedly surrounded by Scar’s very essence and being. To entwine himself into it to a point where he can never separate.

To connect so deeply with a vex should have been terrifying, but it’s so exhilarating instead. Although Scar always had that effect on him, to pull him from the bubble that was his teachings. Well, he was always hesitant to believe some things, but Scar made it easy to accept the change and rebel.

Grian’s hardly aware of anything around him as they spin around each other, floating on the feeling of their magic. He feels even more weightless then he normally does when flying.

Dancing while in midair, especially with someone else, isn’t easy, but that’s the point. Connecting with someone so intimately for eternity shouldn’t be easy. This is for those who are devoted to another to the point where they can’t be without the other.

Grian didn’t pay much mind to this ritual when he first learned about it, having had no interest in connecting himself so deeply, so personally, with another before. He was fine with fleeting connections to the other allays, it was nice, and he was content.

What he has with Scar now is incredible beyond words, in a completely different league than anything Grian has ever done it the past.

So it’s worth it to spend the time and effort to learn all of the steps needed in order to do this. It would always be worth it, if it’s for Scar. Scar’s worth anything and everything Grian can give him.

Grian will risk it all for Scar, if he has to. The vex has changed his life for the better, after all. He can’t bare to return to his old life, he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

A light squeeze on his hands pulls him from his sliding thoughts, dragging him back to the present, where Scar is still giving him that soft and loving smile.

His partner doesn’t say a word, but Grian can feel his thoughts through his magic. A gentle reassurance. Grian mirrors it as Scar continues to ‘lead’ them through the dance.

Their dancing continues to go smoothly, both of them having practiced how to do this as much as they could. Although that was on their own, it’s different with a partner.

Even with the difference of doing this for real and with another, they adapt easily to it. At least they were until Grian catches a sliver of unease from Scar.

Grian smoothly begins guiding Scar in their dance, gliding through the air. They only take a few more ‘steps’ before squeezing one of Scar’s hand, a silent indicator of what he’s going to do.

Scar’s eyes widen a fraction in understanding, pulling his wings in as Grian spins him around. His back is against Grian for a few seconds before he completes the spin. It’s a little awkward with their height different, but he manages it.

It’s easy to do otherwise, them not necessarily needing their wings to keep them afloat. It’s only useful in the long term of staying airborne, or doing some kind of trick or fancy flying.

Scar seems to have only lit up more as they return to their original positions. Grian wants to kiss him, seeing him so happy like this, and maybe from his own giddiness as well. Yet Grian can’t, least it breaks the ritual.

While there’s some flexibility, the ceremony is stupidly strict on what is and isn’t allowed. Hence the reason neither risk speaking, not wanting to break this and having to redo it.

Of course with no specifics on what is and isn’t allowed, they need to tread carefully during this full thing. Which includes the very human act of kissing, because the fae seem so against non-fae traditions.

Having the urge to kiss Scar is probably stupid too, since they’re not in their human forms and thus lack the feelings that would even prompt them to do so to begin with. Then again, that has no effect on them liking doing those things.

Grian is already strange enough in comparison to most allays, so it makes sense he’d be different in other ways. Adopting human traditions is the least of his worries, really, considering what they’re doing now.

Falling into the flow of their dance is easier with each ‘step’ and spin around each other. Their magic sparking in the air around them, only fueling their excitement even more.

The feeling is almost addicting, and Grian can’t get enough of it. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle being away from Scar anymore after this.

Near abruptly, Scar takes lead and barely gives him a warning before spinning him. Despite the silence they agreed to keep, Grian can’t help but giggle as Scar twirls him around a few times.

Scar chuckles in response, his more deeper and rougher, fitting for a vex. The difference used to unnerve Grian, but he’s grown to love it, experiencing something so different and new. Something so amazing.

Grian feels weightless as the dance continues, them spinning around each out, letting out giggles they can’t contain. He can’t imagine a place he’d rather be.

While the weightlessness continues, he can feel the way the magic shifts around them, pressing and curling around him even more, even deeper. It’s all consuming, all addicting.

Grian gasps and shudders when the magic truly starts seeping into his bones, into his soul. Scar reacts similarly, losing his composure for a few seconds.

As the magic starts dissipating from the air, becoming more solid inside of him, Grian starts leading them back down, gently taking them back to the forest floor. The ceremony is complete now, their magic completely intertwined.

Grian is breathing heavily, and he’s shaking when they land again, immediately slumping against Scar and snuggling into his mate. And isn’t that a giddy thought? Them, mated for life.

His magic hums loudly in his ears as he presses even closer, feeling warm and content. Every single instinct in him that normally would scream at him for being so close to a vex is eerily silent. He can get used to this.

Scar returns his hold and slowly lowers them to sit on the ground. He presses his face into his hair and pants out, “Incredible.”

Grian makes a quiet noise, “I love you.”

“Love you too, G,” he murmurs, giving Grian a light squeeze.

#my writing #desert duo week 2023 #hermitshipping #scarian #day 1 #dancing #holding #fae crossed lovers

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