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enchantestuff · 3 years

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cursed crown (1) - pierre gasly

in which sneaking into Pierres kingdom only means one thing

warnings: smut, royalty au so there's that, language maybe?

please please please let me know what you all think

“Are you alright?” you heard Pierre quietly call from the window above you. You had just arrived at his castle and were currently trying to climb up to the kitchen window, admittedly with no help from the prince himself.

“A little bit of help would be nice, Your Highness” you scoffed. Pierre laughed at the title you gave him but obliged nevertheless, leaning out of the window and stretching his arm downwards, waving it in front of your face teasingly. You rolled your eyes as you grabbed hold of it, “I thought I was supposed to be the mean one out of the two of us” you muttered when you finally climbed through the window and planted your feet firmly on the ground. You brushed some dirt away from your coat before finally meeting his beautiful blue eyes.

“Perhaps you're rubbing off on me, my lady,” Pierre grinned. He grabbed hold of your hand and quickly led the two of you out of the grand kitchen, carefully glancing across corridors and hiding behind walls as maids and a variety of guests walked through his pristine palace. You thought you would have been used to sneaking around his home by now, you had been doing it for months after all, but the trek from the kitchen to his bedroom was never an easy one. Even though Pierre had repeatedly confessed to you that this certain day of each month was the quietest, there still seemed to be countless people roaming the halls.

“I do quite hope you haven't acquired only my bad traits, Pierre,” you whispered, quickly glancing behind you as you ran up the stairs and into his bedroom. This was the riskiest part of your journey. The stairs that led up to his bedroom were open for anyone and everyone to see, whether it be from the inside balcony above or from the spacious hall below.

Pierre laughed at your comment, quickly shutting his bedroom door behind him and twisting his body around to face you. He placed his hands on your hips as he led you further into his bedroom. “Are you insinuating that you have any desirable qualities, my love?” he joked, his beloved silly grin quickly making its way onto his face causing your own smile to erupt on your own. These moments with Pierre were the only times you could truly be yourself and they didn't come around too often.

“Well of course, your highness” you smiled, snaking your hands up his arms to rest on his biceps. Pierre jokingly cocked an eyebrow at you, his hands trailing lower down your body, unable to keep them still for a second.

“And why is that?” he pondered, frowning slightly as you pulled away from him to take off your coat and climb onto his freshly made bed, getting comfortable in the silk sheets before peeking at him through your lashes.

“Because you crawl into bed with me every month” you teased. Your eyes trailed across his bedside table, smiling at the familiarity of it. Since the beginning of your late night rendezvous the contents of the table had never changed. There always lay a map of Othain, a journal which he had forbidden you to read and his beloved crown, the one that always lay atop of his head except during these moments with you and of course, when he was sleeping.

You carefully picked the crown up from where it lay and placed it onto your own head. It was much lighter than your own, less jewels scattered around it. It was a breath of fresh air. You didn't feel suffocated wearing it. Didn't feel weighed down by what it symbolized. “Now as your queen, i command you to come over here, for i have been deprived of your touch for far too long”

Pierre chuckled at your words, his steps towards his bed were deliberately slow. He knew how to tease you and from the glare you sent his way, he knew it was working. He crawled onto his bed, positioning himself on top of you and adjusting his crown on your head. “Well then, your majesty, I suspect that I am obliged to prove myself to you?” he jokingly questioned.

“Those are quite possibly the smartest words to leave your lips, my love” you commented. Unable to contain yourself any further, you pulled him towards you, finally connecting your lips after weeks apart from one another. Pierre didn't hesitate to kiss you back, but the short lasting kiss was not what you expected and a frown appeared on your face the minute he pulled away. “As much as I love your teasing, Pierre, I would really prefer it if you didn’t indulge in those habits right now.”

He smirked evilly as he trailed one of his hands down your thigh. “Is her majesty upset with my actions?” he pondered, his smirk not once leaving his face as he crawled further down the bed. Kisses were scattered across your thigh and the silent frustrated sigh that left your lips was a good enough answer for Pierre.

“Her majesty thinks she should get what she wants,” you selfishly spoke. You pulled lightly on Pierre's hair, a desperate attempt to get you closer to him again, to remove his lips from your thigh and place them on your own instead. Was that really too much to ask for?

“Well, I personally think she needs to stop being a brat and shut up for once in her life.” Your lips parted to scold him for his language but instead of rude comments, moans of pure delight seemed to leave your lips as Pierre attached his mouth to your core. He knew how to shut you up and for once in your life, you weren't complaining.

You tugged on his hair, pulling him closer into you as your head fell back in pleasure. Pierres crown slipped to fall beside you on the pillow but you paid it no mind as you felt pleasure pass through you like lightning bolts. “Oh Pierre,” you moaned as he lapped at your core similar to a man deprived of a meal. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Pierres fingers dug into your thighs as he moved to suck on your clit. “Shit,” you cursed as you felt the familiar knot begin to build in your stomach. After spending so much time with you and your body, Pierre believed he knew you inside out, which as a result meant he knew exactly when you were going to cum. He felt oh so evil as he brought you to your peak, only to pull away from you at the last second. The frown on your face was enough to make him feel slightly guilty. Only slightly.

“I am going to declare war on you, Pierre Gasly, '' you seethed, completely unsatisfied and now purely annoyed. You hadn’t trekked all the way to his kingdom in the middle of the night just for him to bring you towards the most amazing pleasure imaginable and leave you high and dry at the last moment.

“I'm afraid you don't have the power to do that yet, love” he grinned. He didn't give you any time to come up with a witty reply as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips before undressing himself in front of you.

“Is this your form of apologizing?” because well, it was working, there's just something about a handsome prince undressing before your very eyes that got you going.

“I was planning on making you cum over and over again, love” he spoke, stretching his arm out beside your head in order to place his crown back on your head. You looked so powerful with it on. You always looked powerful, but his own crown laying in your hair brought freshness to you that he didn't know was possible. It made his chest lighten and butterflies erupt in his stomach. It made him feel five again. “But if this is enough im happy to stop here and continue another time.”

You scoffed at him. Keeping one hand on the crown, you trailed your hand down your body, gripping onto your breast, maintaining eye contact with him as you did so, before moving further down your body. You ran your fingers up and down your folds, spreading the wetness gathered there before inserting one inside. “If you cant pleasure me, i guess i'll have to do it myself,” you muttered, knowing deep down that there was nothing Pierre hated more than you pleasuring yourself in front of him. It felt like a betrayal. Like he wasn’t enough.

Your plan succeeded spectacularly, as they always did, and in no time he was positioned on top of you, his tip teasingly brushing against your entrance. He dragged your hand away from your core and held it above your head. His grip was almost death-like and you found yourself relishing in the pain it brought.

“Don't doubt me for a second, love” Pierre grunted in your ear as he tapped his cock against your clit. You bit your lip at the sensation but allowed him to continue with his scolding. You knew there was nothing but love behind his words and so, to no surprise, you got more excited with each word that fell from his lips. “I think you know first hand the kind of pleasure I can bring you.” You gasped at the feeling of him filling you up. After nearly two weeks of not seeing each other, the sensation of him inside you was better than you had remembered. You transferred his crown onto his own head, an indication that whatever power you had over him was now practically non-existent. You were truly at his mercy.

“I'm sure you haven't forgotten the many times i've made you scream, love. I can do it again if your memory has begun to fail you.”

Pierre was always one to live up to his word. His sharp deliberate thrusts made your eyes roll back and several moans escaped your lips. You haven't been with any other man except Pierre and you would never need to. He knew your body more than you did and the delight that he brought you was extraordinary.

The squeezing of your wrist made your eyes snap open. His beautiful eyes were already watching you withering underneath him. A look of pure adoration plastered on his face as his hips continued to move at a rapid pace. “Shit, Pierre”

Pierre shook his head at you, a lopsided grin replacing his usual smirk as he leaned down to kiss your chest. “That's not what i want to hear, love.”

He was playing your own game against you, but you were too full of gratification to care. “P- please, your highness.” A blush crept up your cheeks at the seriousness of your own voice. You were no longer mocking him with his title but moaning it in pure delight.

Pierre cocked his head at you, “Please what, love? Use your words.” Tingles made its way onto your skin from kisses he scattered over your neck, goosebumps trailing in their wake. You didn't even process your words until they were out in the open.

“Fuck me like your life depends on it.”

And he did. His thrusts became unbelievably precise, his free hand roamed your body, circling and squeezing all the right places while his other intertwined with yours. You knew there would be marks left from where he had held on too hard, but you didn't see it as a mark of pain rather than an indication of what had gone on between you two. A reminder for the next long two weeks ahead of you.

The clenching of your walls for the second time that night indicated to Pierre you were close. “Hold on, love” he ushered. Something that was incredibly hard to do when he was pounding into you like an animal and circling your clit like he was under a spell.

“I - i can't,” you sobbed. You wanted so bad to release the knot in your stomach, to catch the orgasm you had been chasing all night.

“I said hold it.” He was in control, that much was clear, but you could only hold on for so long until your body couldn’t take it anymore.

“P - pierre, fuck!”

“That's it, love,” Pierre groaned in your ear, “Hold on for just another moment, such a good girl for me.” Your eyes rolled back and your gripped onto his hand for dear life. “Don't know what id do without you.” Your heart skipped a beat and tears began welling in your eyes. “Look so pretty right now, taking me like the queen you'll soon be.” Your breath increased and a whimper left your lips.

“You can let go now, love.”

Nights with Pierre were often sleepless. You had plenty of time to sleep when you were alone in your bedroom. Two nights each month you spent facing the beautiful prince, talking about utter nonsense until your cheeks hurt from smiling too hard and your eyes drooped from being awake for too long.

“Im being sent somewhere tomorrow,” you whispered into the darkness, playing with his hands as you dared to break the silence around you. You could feel him tense up next to you, obviously assuming the worst and imagining an attack his own kingdom. His own people. “Not you, “ you reassured, your heart fluttering when he immediately relaxed beside you, “Some rebels gathering together behind the mountains, I’ll have to leave early in the morning.”

It hurt you to cut your already short time with Pierre even shorter, but duty called and once your father demands your presence on a mission, you had no choice than show up.

“I hate the fact you have to go out on these stupid battles,” Pierre confided. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you all night, wanting to imprint the image of your face in his mind until the next time he saw you again.

“Well, unlike you, I have to prove myself to everyone.” It was the harsh reality of your world, one that you were reminded of at each public event you attended. You were a woman and for that reason, deemed unworthy of ruling.

“You wouldn’t have to prove yourself to anyone if you ran away with me,” he reminded. Without fail, every time you met up with Pierre, he brought up the idea of running far away to another kingdom, one where the two of you could live like commoners and not have to worry about the state of a kingdom nor dooming battles. It was a daydream that both frightened and enticed you in the best ways possible.

“You really think you can survive without all this luxury?” you pondered, your hands immediately running up and down the silk sheets on top of you as your eyes floated across the numerous jewels and paintings scattered around his room.

“With you next to me?” he asked. His hand came to rest on your jaw, moving your face closer to his own as he spoke his true desires out loud, “Of course.”

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula one #au #royalty au #x reader

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yandere--stuck · 3 years

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Yandere Megaera x Shade Reader, submitted by @faeleas (idk if i did it right, but hope you like it regardless. and im sorry it's a little long >_<")

it had taken so long for you to sneak back into the entrance to Asphodel to catch even a glimpse of the powerful fury without her detection, but now that you had your spot behind on of the pillars far off to the side, you stayed put, kept silent and didn't blink lest you lost one second of Megaera in the fullness of her element.

she was a blaze of glory, her strength vibrating through the air as she snapped out her whip again and again at the prince, slicing the very breath from your lungs as you gazed in awe. how wonderful and powerful she was to behold, and how enthralling it always would be to watch her fight, to see her wicked smile cut into her teal cheek as she overflowed with the desire to cut the Zagreus down and stop his progress.

you could almost feel the faint impression of a thundering heartbeat in your chest, and that sensation only swelled when Megaera caught Zagreus by the ankle with her whip and tossed him high into the air above her. you gaped, eyes on her alone and in your shock, your duty to silence fell away, the quiet suddenly broken with your small gasp.

Megaera was just about to deal a finishing blow to the haughty prince who'd dared challenge her again, who was so proud to believe he could best her in her own domain, when she heard it. she heard you.

time seemed to stutter as her gold eyes darted to every corner of the entrance to Asphodel, searching through the dim glow of flickering firelight for the source of the sound that broken her focused rage. after a second, her brazen gaze locked on you hidden in the shadows in the corner of her arena, hands clasped over your mouth and eyes wide with... something. as far as she knew, it should be fear. no shade had ever gotten this far away from the House of Hades, let alone made it inside this forbidden space, and yet, there you were, trembling as you held her narrowing gaze still.

why? what kind of foolishness mightve brought you to her? what a silly, brazen little shade you must be to even try, but before Megaera could consider any possibilities about what you might be made of, a searing pain tore through her lower back.

a gasp clawed out of her gut, dragging up with it a small splatter of blood that coated her lips. as Megaera tore her eyes from you to her stomach, she found the tip of Zagreus's sword lodged right through her waist.

"y-you... wre-etched... " she choked, then coughed again. with the little time she had left, Megaera looked over her shoulder at the young determined prince and snarled a smile full of bloody teeth before she spat, "next time, i-i will... have you... kneeling before m-me... Za-agreus."

the fury was beginning to fade, but with the very last moments of her current awareness, she threw a burning glare at you, daring you to try anything near her again.

Megaera snarled as she came to and pushed herself to her feet in the resurrection pool of blood, snatching her whip from the shallow beside her and quickly marching out, shaking the sticky blood from her hands and raking it out of her long lilac-blue ponytail. You were all she xould think about: the shade who had snuck in, distracted her, watched her get outmatched by that smart-mouthed prince of Hades. she had to find you and punish you as she saw fit.

blowing off Thanatos before he could say anything to her, not that her blazing rage that licked at the air around her like coughed up sputters of lava from a volcano didn't do enough to stop his attempt anyway, the Fury snapped out her one sharp wing and took off, rushing back to her domain in hopes that you had been petrified where you stood. when she landed with a thunderous crash and found you there still, a bubbling snarl rose to her throat.

"You." Megaera prowled towards you, cutting her whip through the air just to make you flinch, and just as you opened you mouth to apologise and explain, she roared and unleashed her weapon, the force of the wind caused by it's movement alone knocking you back into the very pillar you had been hiding behind. not a moment after you'd caught the breath knocked from your lungs did you find it firmly restricted once again, Megaera's whip binding you securely to the marble pillar itself.

Megaera stood with her arms crossed for a moment, her endless rage sparking under her teal skin, brightened by the gold ornaments that gleamed around her arms and waist and neck. she watched you squirm in the tight coil of her whip, a grin stretching across her rouged lips as your panicked eyes eventually met hers. you knew all she could do, and you could tell from her easy cadance walking close to you that she knew it also.

"Tell me, you impudent shade, why were you in my domain? for what reason would you think you could be here and not be discovered?"

Megaera purred, but her voice was devoid of warmth, promising that the wrong answer would only end in pain. she kept sauntering closer and closer to you until her iron breath caressed your face, then placing her hand beside your head on the pillar, the fury ran her tongue across her teeth, leaned over you and finished, "What made you think you were that clever to enter the arena of a Fury and escape unpunished? Do tell."

now you knew you had a heart, since it thumped hot and hard in every corner of your being. you couldn't pull your eyes from hers even though everything in you screamed to. you swallowed hard, knowing there was no way out of this so with a sigh, gave in and told the truth.

"I-I... I s-saw you once, in the lounge. I'd h-heard about you but... I just wanted to see you- to watch you fight, i mean."

Megaera frowned at your words but inside her, something was turning. "Is that so?"

you nodded quickly, then instantly shivered it when you watched the burning anger in her gaze reduce to a contained simmer, gold winking in the light of the fires around you both.

The Fury watched you, the hot blush in your cheeks, listened to the thundering of your heart in your chest, could almost taste the terrified awe in the air around you, not that she wasn't used to it. But... you thought she was incredible.

Megaera thought back to the fight with Zagreus, the moment she'd met your gaze, how wide and full of.. adoration it had been. it wasnt disgust, or disdain, or fear. it was... shock, awe maybe... something else.

"How long have you been watching me?" she whispered, leaning closer, pulling on the end of the whip and purring a smile when you whimpered.

the leather of her whip burned as it pressed into your throat, the hissing sting snatching every thought from your mind. after finding your breath, you tightly confessed, "I've... seen you fight Prince Z-Zagreus... 13 times. I didn't mean t-to intrude. I just.. wanted to see you fight for myself."

Megaera blinked twice quickly. 13 times. it took at least a week for Zagreus to get through all of Hades and reach the surface, so for 13 weeks you had been watching her, not in disgust, or disdain, something else that made you come back.

"Why?"

again the Fury pulled the whip tighter, and again it dug into your body, making you gasp as you blinked through the stinging pain, but as it subsided, you looked up into her honeyed gaze with desperation and honesty, muttering with embarrassed timidity. "I... think you're... really cool. Incredible, even. T-That's all."

Incredible.

a pulse flickered in Megaera's bottomless core. No one had ever used such a word to describe her in... longer than she knew. those words settled deep in Megaera's heart faster than she could stop them, and once they were there, everything in her clung to them like they were the only thing keeping her alive.

What were you that such simple words could elicit such a profound internal symphony that almost sent her shivering with shock? how could she have not known such power existed? when you looked at her with that pleading gaze, with eyes that were so raw with truth, full of goodness, of... something, it was impossible to lokk away. in your eyes was something that was more than respect, more than fear, more than adoration... love was the only thing more than all three.

yes, that must be the only explanation. You loved watching her, you loved seeing her fight, loved seeing her, loved her. You loved her. how fickle, how very mortal of you... and yet...

Megaera huffed a laugh as she stepped back to look at you, all of you that apparently loved all of her. The Fury couldn't believe it. a simple shade had risked everything to tell her, to show her that they loved her. how enrapturing.

the lilac haired punisher of jealousy was quickly overcome with something that, in the scope of all that had just happened, must felt like love too, but she wanted it for herself alone. this pulse of heat within her because of you and the way you looked at her, it was for her, and it would always be hers. anything that threatened to take it away would be destroyed. it had to be.

with that resolve fluttering inside her, Megaera gently brushed your cheek with the back of her fingers, then lifted your chin with her finger. when you flinched at her cool touch, she grinned and cooed sweetly, "Hm. Oh, my curious little shade. If you love it so much, then you will stay here to watch me. You will be able to witness my greatness for as long as you want, as many times as you want. Yes, you will stay right here, but if you betray this trust, there will be consequences. Have I made myself clear?"

As you nodded, likely out of fear of saying otherwise, Megaera's heart tightened once again. Yes, you loved her, and now, she would fight to show you how much that love meant, to prove that she was the only one you needed to love, to make you love her even more. It wouldn't be hard.

No one else would take your eyes from gazing upon her. Not Zagreus, not her sisters, not even Lord Hades himself. Your endless gaze was hers now, and by extension, so were you.

end

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I'm so so sorry I only posted this just now but. Oh my Goddddd this is incredible holy shit!!! Thank you so, so much for submitting this I'm 👀👀👀👀👀 Ms. Megaera......

Thank you so so much again, I love your writing and prose, and I'm sorry for only getting to it now, the app doesn't show me notifications for submissions, just asks ;w;

#hades game #hades megaera #yandere megaera #hades megaera x reader #submission #yandere x reader #yandere hades x reader #yandere hades game x reader #yandere hades game #yandere hades #megaera x Reader #yandere #hades

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bbrandy2002 · 5 years

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The Breakfast Club

Chapter Seven

TRR AU

Summary: Things get very heated in the library and between two of the teens. Some major fluff.

Warning: Drugs are mentioned.

Word count: 2417

Characters belong to Pixelberry. Library plot and much of the spoken dialogue written by John Hughes/A&M Films. Everything else is mine.

*please let me know if you want untagged from this story. I promise I won't mind 😊

Drake sits on the railing leading up to the second level of the library, deep in thought.

He hops down, still feeling the effects of his liquor filled breakfast. "You know what we should do? Close that door.... I've gotta a bottle of whiskey", he pulls it out of his pants and shakes it in the air.

Maxwell perks up and feels an instant rush of energy, "yeah, I'm always down for booze and a party, count me in."

Liam frustrated with Drake and life in general right now wants no part of this, "Come on guys, Vernon said to keep the door open."

Drake scoffs, "so what?"

Liam turns to face him, "so, there's four other people in here who don't want to piss him off and then we all have to deal with my father."

"A prince who can count...aren't you special" Drake says sarcastically.

Liam slams his hands on the table before him and looks at Drake, "Who the hell are you to judge anyway?"

Olivia nods her head in agreement, "yeah!"

Drake methodically walks over to Olivia and leans down to face her, "remember what you told me yesterday, huh?....I'm a nothing...a nobody...I may as well not even exist in this world."

She scowls back at him flatly, "yeah....and I still stand by that."

Drake acts like it doesn't bother him, but, inside, the words fuel him further. He sets his sights elsewhere, walking toward the entrance doors of the library. He studies it briefly then begins messing with the screw that holds the door open.

Riley carefully watches him before sitting up in her seat, "hey, you're not supposed to be doing that."

The door slams shut and Drake runs back to his seat, "am I a genius or what?"

Olivia speaks up, "No, you're an asshole."

Liam begs Drake to fix the door, but, he ignores his pleas.

Out of no where, Vernon slams the door open, "Damn it, who shut that door?"

Olivia points to Drake, "he did it", she was not about to protect him.

Vernon doesn't act surprised, he scurries through the room and stands at the corner of Drake's table, holding out his hand "Give me that screw Walker."

"I don't have it", he says innocently.

"Give me the screw or I'll shake it outta ya."

"Screws fall out all of the time sir, why would I want to take it?"

Vernon can feel the fury increasing in his chest, "Beaumont...front and center!"

Maxwell quickly stands up and salutes him, "At your disposal, sir."

Vernon motions for him to follow as he walks to a wooden book shelf, "help me move this into the door."

Maxwell barely holds one end as Vernon grabs the other. As they begin moving it into place, Drake feigns concern about fire hazards; the shelf is blocking the door and children's lives could be endangered....he emphasizes the Prince could be put in danger.

Vernon trying to save face looks at a breathless Maxwell who is hunched over, "What's the matter with you Beaumont! What are you doing, huh? Move this back over there".

Maxwell stood there for a moment scratching his head, "I'm so confused, sir."

"Just move it back!", Vernon yelps.

Maxwell sighs then pushes the shelf back to its original place.

He immediately returns to his seat when Vernon addresses him again, "I expected better of a Beaumont."

Maxwell is stunned and looks over at Riley, still not sure of what he had done wrong.

Vernon eyes Drake and points at him, "the next screw that falls out is going to be you!"

Drake mumbles under his breath, "Eat my shorts."

"What was that Walker?", Vernon asks as he quickly spins around from his attempt to leave.

Drake glares at him, "Eat.My.Shorts."

Vernon replies, "You just earned another Saturday of guard duty."

"So?"

"There's another....you finished?"

"No"

"You just bought another one."

"I'm free the Saturday after that too."

"Not anymore.....just say the word...you through?"

"Not yet."

"Im doing Cordonia a favor...you want another one?"

"Yes!"

"You got it"

Olivia turns to him, now with actual concern, "Drake, cut it out...stop."

Vernon continues, "Now are you through?"

"Not even close, bud"

"Good, there's another one."

"Do you think I give a shit?"

"Another"

Drake glances up at him, "how many is that?"

Maxwell innocently speaks up, "That's seven Drake, including the one you got when you asked him if he raids Trumps closet."

Drake gives a knowing look to Maxwell, desperate for him to stay quiet.

"You're mine Walker...for the next two months I got you."

Drake rolls his eyes, "What can I say, I'm thrilled."

Vernon begins his stroll out of the room and turns just before exiting, "the next time I have to come back in, I'm cracking skulls."

Drake mouths the words silently as Vernon says them.

After the door closes, Drake yells out, "Fuck You!!"

****

At a quarter to 11 am, everyone is bored. Drake sips on his whiskey quietly at his table with one foot propped up, Olivia rifles through her purse, Maxwell is playing with his balls, Liam is playing with the draw string of his sweatshirt and Riley is wrapping hair around her finger until it turns purple.

A few minutes later...Drake has a lighter burning the rubber of his shoes, Maxwell is playing paper soccer and quietly celebrates his goal, and Riley is emptying a salt packet onto her new drawing.

Eventually, Riley starts singing to herself...I don't mean to brag but I be like put it in the bag.

Then Maxwell joins in while pointing at his head...you like my hair gee thanks just bought it.

Both Olivia and Drake yell at the same time, "shut up!"

Boredom becomes overwhelming and everyone in the room, including himself, is ready to choke the shit out of Drake. One by one, heads lower to the tables in front of them as they peacefully fall asleep.

At noon, Vernon comes in and yells for everyone to get up and asks if anyone needs a drink; they all raise their hands.

Drake volunteers to get them, however, Vernon shirks him and randomly chooses who he feels is the safest options. He points to Liam, then Riley; he instructs them to promptly go to the main kitchen to bring sodas back for everyone.

***

Riley and Liam walk in silence through the long and winding hallways of the palace. He was troubled by his father's actions this morning and the bruises on his face were throbbing reminders. He felt as if he was in a daze, each minute a dizzying fog of inevitable gloom. Drake's odd behavior in the library was only a temporary reprieve to refocus his thoughts elsewhere, but, now, it all rushes back without his distraction. His eyes are sunken and troubled, his expressions are flat, emotionless. Even when he corrected Drake, the words flowed out without energy or substance.

Riley hesitated to speak as she walked just a half step behind Liam. She could read him like he was a book about her own life. She has wore that face before, even if only seeing it from the side.

Before she can say anything, he quickly glances at her, with a hollow tone in his voice, "what happened to your eye?"

She ever so slightly turned her head away and toyed with the charm on her bracelet, yet, kept moving. She questioned to herself whether he was like his father, was he leading her into a one way conversation where she would be called a whore again?

Curious by her timid behavior, Liam slowed the pace he was walking and reached out to tap her arm, wanting to gain her attention. She flinched before he made contact and a distressed look played deep in her light brown eyes. He too, knew that particular look..it's the one you wear when you've been conditioned to expect the worst.

Keeping her head down, she slowly moved her eyes back to him, not fully meeting his gaze.

He needed her to face him, there was an unmistakable force inside that had to know if someone else in the world knew his sorrows....experienced his demons. He tilted her chin up and their eyes engaged for the first time. Both of them felt exposed in that moment, as if every thought, every painful memory, all the lonliness was out in the open....revealed through the effectual union of their eyes.

Her lips began quivering as two large tears fell rapidly down her cheeks, and with a low shaky voice, almost inaudible "my stepfather."

Her soul felt like the floodgates of hell had opened and she was purged and unequivocally free from her bondage.

She had never trusted anyone to tell her secret, but, somehow, in this moment, she felt safe.

Liam didn't know Riley, had only met her two hours ago, however, the urge to protect her suddenly weighed on him. He felt powerful...strengthened...fearless. Leo described that feeling to him, but, Liam never expected to experience it.

Riley reached up, brushed her thumb along his own facial bruises; he leaned into her touch with eyes closed. There was nothing in the world better than her touch; it sent a powerful charge through his entire body.

They were two broken souls, from opposite ends of society, who now feared only the absense of the other. Seemingly impossible and, yet, suddenly real.

He opened his eyes, turning to gently kiss the palm of her hand. With tears still streaming and a heart that was pounding thunderously, she carefully placed her free hand on the other side of his face and pulled him to her lips. He wasn't a Prince and she wasn't a commoner....it was just Liam and Riley.

_________________________

Drake is laying on top of a table in the library , while Maxwell and Olivia are still anxiously waiting in their seats.

"Man, where are those drinks at?", Maxwell was getting inpatient and fidgety.

Drake sits up and lets his legs dangle off the table behind Olivia, "Hey Liv...are you still a virgin?

Olivia jumps up and grabs Drake by the back of the neck and wrestles him to the floor, "I will kill you Walker, do you understand me?"

Drake laughs as Olivia has him in a behind the back arm lock. He makes an attempt to break free, however, he is still too inebriated to make a concerted effort.

Olivia shoves his head away and walks back to her seat.

Moments later, Drake pulls out his cell phone and scrolls for a particular picture he has saved, "Liv, you want to see a picture of a guy with elephantitus of the nuts...its pretty tasty."

Maxwell tries to sneak a peak at this picture, while Olivia forces herself to ignore him.

Drake jumps down from his table and walks to the doors, he steadily opens it enough to see that Vernon is no longer at his desk and peaks out into the hallway. He shuts the door and turns to Maxwell and Olivia, "anybody up for taking a stroll in the halls...I need to get something."

As much as Olivia has had it with Drake, she wants to get out of that library more; she couldn't explain it, but, she trusted Drake was stealthy enough they wouldn't get caught.

She and Maxwell follow Drake out. Olivia is keeping pace with him, "how do you know we won't get caught?"

He simply replies, "I don't"

Maxwell whispers to her, "where are we going?"

She shrugs her shoulders, "Beats me".

"Well...what if we get caught?"

"I suppose we'll get in trouble."

"But, what..."

Olivia grabs Maxwell by the collar, "If you don't stop asking questions, Im going to beat the living shit out of you."

Maxwell raises his hands up in defense, "sorry".

Bastien's quarters are not too far from the library, Drake has a small bedroom within it.

As the trio enter Drake's bedroom, Olivia looks around in disgust, pinching her nose, the room was in complete disarray, "Slob".

"Yeah, well my maids on vacation", he replies while stepping through a pile of clothing scattered along his path.

Drake reaches up on the top shelf his closet and pulls down a small bag of marijuana and rolling papers.

Maxwell's eye's widen in surprise as he looks to Olivia to say something, but, she doesn't.

Drake lays his items on the desk and begins to prepare crafting a joint, "I actually haven't done this before."

Olivia slides next to him, carefully watching his hands, "Then why do you have it?"

He chuckles at her, "I was saving it for a rainy day."

She rolls her eyes, but, snickers with him

Maxwell watching this, clears his throat and huddles down between them, "watch out, let me do this." Maxwell is steadfast and makes quick work of his rolling efforts, "Ta-da, she's a beaut." He leans over and starts rolling a second one.

Drake yanks the first one from his hands and inspects Maxwell's work, "that's not half bad Beaumont."

Maxwell give him a coy look and a shrug, "Not my first time".

Olivia looks at Drake with an eyebrow raised, "now what?"

Drake places the joints back in the baggie and shoves it into the front of Maxwell's pants, "Go back to the library...Bas will kill me if he smells that in here."

They quietly make their way back through the halls, trying to be as quiet as possible. Just as they round the corner leading to the library, Vernon steps out of his office.

----------

Liam and Riley pull away from their kiss. It had been slow, gentle and tender; it left them both feeling breathless. Riley bites her bottom lip, still staring up at him, searching his eyes again.

This was his first kiss and he is beaming; it felt as if the earth had temporarily stopped moving. He is thrilled, but, nervous and doesn't know what to do next. He takes a finger and taps her nose with an awkward grin. Riley taps his nose right back as she lets out a light giggle.

As if instinct kicks in, he wrap his arms around her waist and pulls her close to his body, resting his chin on top of her head. The hair was so soft that he couldn't help but rub his cheek along it. They held each other close, both communicating with one another through touch and embrace.

He lightly kissed her forehead, inhaled her rose petal scent, then met her soft lips again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. Liam reached up and grabbed her hand, laced his fingers through hers and held it to his heart. Constantine, his duties, his bleak life...no longer existed. When the kiss ended, he whispers softly in her ear, "Riley, you're so pretty."

@missameliep @ao719 @dcbbw @carabeth @romanticatheart-posts @emceesynonymroll @drakensword @jemrmax2love @pedudley @moneyfordiamonds @katedrakeohd @sirbeepsalot @kingliam2019 @thisperfectmemory @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @stopforamoment @silversparrow02 @choiceslife @timmagicktoad @lodberg @burnsoslow @gnatbrain @lovemychoices @hopefulmoonobject

#choices trr #the royal romance #trr liam #trr fanfic #trr drake #maxwell beaumont #trr #liam x riley #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #liam x mc

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nevadaughterofelsa · 5 years

Text

An Icy Threat

Authors note: a piece of fiction until I can RP as Neva with a Hades.

Also had an idea for alternative ending, lemme know if you'd like to see it and I'll write it! But hopefully this will inspire someone to wanna RP with me :)

---------------------------------------------

Neva was watching the happenings in the Isle of the lost. It was her only way to spy on Auradon thanks to her old home welcoming the core four that were Mal, Evie, Jay and Carlos over to their side. The Isle was full of excitement because those very four kids had managed to stop the jealous Audrey- daughter of Aurora and Prince Phillip from causing destruction in Auradon.

Part of her was sad Audrey failed, yet another part of her was joyful at her failure. It meant she could bring her own destruction to Auradon. It was four years since she had been banished to the Isle. Banishment for avenging her family’s honour and title. Hans is the true villain, not her. However in these four years, she had grown with the attitude of 'if they want me to be the monster... Fine. I’ll be the monster'.

“You’re staring into your shard deep in thought again.” A male voice echoed through her frozen forest. “Hades...” she simply greeted, waving her hand to close the images in her magical shard and turning to look at him. “And what brings the fire to my domain?” She questioned him. This made Hades smirk and chuckle. “Really Neva? What’s with the dramatics today?” He asked, walking up her ice steps to her chair, feeling glad he always his favourite clunky boots so not to slip.

“I’m just keeping up to date on the goings-on. Nothing wrong with that is there?” Neva simply retorted with a smidge false innocence in her voice. “Now, no need for the sass.” Hades began. “Neva, if you needed updates you could just ask me. I am after all one of the rare ones that doesn’t find you intimidating.” He smirked. This caused her to roll her eyes. “And that my dear Hades, requires leaving my forest and losing my temper with the VKs.” She told him back, leaning close to his face and using her index finger to flick his chin from underneath.

“You’re a flirt. You know that right?” Hades pointed out. “Only to you,” She smiled, before standing up and walking down the steps towards the trees that line the little frozen lake to her left. Hades chuckled, he was pleased he got that out of her. He had found her utterly fascinating and ironically hot for quite some time. “Now whose the one staring?” She called out, not even needing to turn to look at him to know he was watching her every move.

“Do you wanna know what’s happening in Auradon or not?” Hades changed the subject and this made Neva turn around. “They stopped Audrey. You got a clever daughter. What else is there to know?” She replied to him. “They need me to go over and save Audrey. Her use of Maleficent’s staff put her in a death like sleep. So I’m going.” Hades explained. This actually surprised Neva. “But why? She doesn’t deserve it! If I got this for what I did, she should remain in her own prison!” Neva complained, her voice full of anger. “Im not doing it for Audrey. I’m doing it for Mal...and to get my ember back.” He explained, walking over to her and placing his hands on her arms.

Neva scoffed. “Its true. I couldn’t give two damns about those heroes, but I do care about Mal. She deserves happiness.” Hades continued and this made Neva calm slightly. She always did admire his fondness for Mal, despite staying out of her life for all these years. “...fine” she simply said. Hades then got a smile on his face. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were jealous.” He joked, making Neva breaking out of his grip and conjuring a snowball to throw at his chest.

“You’re insufferable.” She commented. “And you’re surprisingly hot when you’re mad and well... For an ice cold princess.” He replied smiling smugly. Neva walked back to him. “How do you do that?” She questioned, “Do what?” “Make me fall in love with you when you make me so mad?” Neva admitted and that threw Hades off guard for a few seconds. “Because I’m a God” He smirked, grabbing her and lifting her head up to his. Just as he was about to give her the kiss he’d always wanted, there was a cough in the near distance snapping him out of the moment.

“Mal, you’re here for me already?” He asked with a sigh. “Yes dad. Audrey can’t keep waiting.” Mal told him, her arms folded across her from the cold. Carlos and Jay were seen behind her. Carlos looked utterly terrified but Neva couldn’t work out who he was terrified of. Hades looked back to Neva, “I guess we’ll save that moment for later. I’ll be back Icy” He winked, walking over to his daughter and her friends.

“I’ve told you before hot head! Don’t call me that!” she called out, throwing another snowball at him, this time hitting him square in the back. She saw Carlos jump and squeal at the action. “God you two! You’re worse than us kids!!” Mal complained leading Hades back to the limo. “She’s terrifying, no wonder the VKs don’t step foot in that forest anymore.” Carlos whispered to Jay. “If you’re going to whisper, do it quietly. She’s no scarier than any one of us.” Hades chimed in, giving the son of Cruella a sideways glance.

Hades was sent back to the Isle and his first stop was to Neva's forest. “Neva?!” He shouted looking everywhere for her. “Where is that—” “icy witch?” Came the interrupted reply from behind him.

“Just came to say I’m back and shall we continue where we left off?” He smugly told her. “You are seriously something.” Neva smiled shaking her head. Hades just grabbed her and kissed her on her lips. His warmth against her cold made for an electric contact. Stepping back to break away, Neva looked up at him and smiled. “Hades I didn’t think you were serious.” “about finding you hot as Hell?! Neva I was DEAD serious. I come to annoy you because I like you and I’ve not felt anything since Mal's mother.” He truthfully spoke, not wasting the opportunity to throw in some underworld puns in in the process.

“I’ve always liked you too. Never did anything about it because we’re so different.” Neva admitted. “Hel-lo!! The saying “opposites attract” exists for a reason.” He told her, pulling her into an embrace. Neva froze in his embrace before relaxing, placing her hands on his chest, gripping at his torn robes under his leather coat. Truth be told, Hades annoying antics made having to live on the Isle a lot more durable. She knew she would have gone utterly insane if he didn’t bug her to no end nearly every day.

Two days passed and the Isle of the lost was just like any other day. Kids either stealing, selling, or spray painting that bit of wall that had a tiny area free of paint.

On Auradon the kids and adults alike were all gathered at the entrance. Mal with her fiancée Ben and her friends on the balcony. Fairy godmother walked over and handed Mal her wand. “Ready my dear?” She asked Mal. “Definitely!” she smiled and with a wave of the wand a few words to form a spell, she brought down the barrier between the two worlds once and for all.

The Isle felt a strong kick above the Isle and as they looked up at the sky they saw the barrier break and disappear. Lead by Uma and her crew, every VK on the Isle ran across the bridge. The core four and kids of Auradon all met them at the entrance and either bowed or courtseyed, allowing the Isle kids entry to a new better life.

Hades stood on the Isle, at the bridge holding Neva’s hand. “Ready love?” He asked looking down into her blue grey eyes. She nodded, but gulped and squeezed his hand just that bit tighter. She didn’t have a good feeling her heart. Hades stepped forward with her and made it onto the bridge but he felt a tug and Neva's hand fall from his. He span round to find her still on the Isle. “You can do it Neva!” He told her reassuringly, not knowing why she stopped.

“I can’t! The separate spell keeping me here is still up!” She told him, wide eyed and close to tears. She thumped the air and Hades saw for himself the magical barrier glow when she collided with it. “Then I’ll come back” Hades told her, stepping towards her, “Hades no. Go to your daughter.” Neva stopped him. “She needs her father at her wedding.” She continued, her hurt and anger forming in her hands. Before Hades could stop her, she blasted him over the bridge where Mal met him half way. “Dad!!” She screamed as she ran to him, helping him up to his feet.

“Im fine Mal. She did it for my own sake...” He told her, walking her back into Auradon. That’s when the winds picked up strongly out of nowhere. The sun being hidden by black thick clouds, swirling in the sky. Snow began to fall heavily on Auradon.

“Neva no...” came a voice Hades hadn’t heard before. Queen Elsa and her sister Anna walked up and spoke. Hades turned back to the sky and saw the storm get worse. “Dad look!” Mal called out pointing at the ice that spread up and round the entrance of the Isle and across the bridge. “She’s freezing the whole place” Mal gasped. “If Auradon didn’t banish her this never would have happened.” Hades remarked. “We didn’t want her banished Hades.” Elsa replied, looking up at him with disapproval in her eyes. “She knows that YOU didn’t want to, but you think that makes a difference? Auradon has given the rest of the Isle a second chance to those who want it. Yet they won’t give it to your own daughter.” Hades pointed out. “Its no wonder her powers have have taken over!” Hades continued, finding it difficult to not blame Elsa.

“It’s not my sister’s fault!” Anna chimed in. “Was there ANY positive things for her over there?” Anna asked. “Yeah...me” Hades flatly spoke. This did not make Elsa happy one bit. Anna couldn’t help but smile. “Well Elsa! They do say opposites attract!” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not now Anna” Elsa told her sister, walking towards Belle, Beast and the Fairy Godmother. Hades watched as quiet words were spoken between them and he squinted his eyes in a judging manner.

That was until the sounds of Mal's chattering teeth reverberated through his skull. He quickly took his coat off and wrapped it round her. “Vome on, we need to get everyone inside and warmed up. Then I’m going to make myself known in that little meeting they’re having.” Hades suggested to her, guiding Mal and the other kids inside.

Neva watched as the love of her life walked away with the people of Auradon. He did what she told him to, do why was that very image making her cry. Screaming in emotional pain, she dropped to the floor, ice shooting out all around. The Isle now falling victim to her powers. “Hades...help me...” She cried, until the last of her sorrow snapped and she slowly looked up with a smirk.

“Maybe now Auradon you’ll see what I’m capable of! I’ll have my revenge and you’ll regret EVER turning me into a monster!” she practically flat, standing up and walking up onto the balcony, creating an ice throne and spires on the frontal buildings. She stared on as her ice and snow covered Auradon in a blanket white. She watched as only a few of the adults stood on the opposite balcony wrapped in several layers and blankets staring back at her. An evil smirk crept across her face.

Elsa and Anna looked out at their precious Neva. “Hades was right. We never should have let her be banished...she’s more like I was than I realized possible.” Elsa spoke to her sister, as Anna pulled her in for a side hug and rubbed her shoulder. “They didn’t give us a choice... We’ll pull her back Elsa. I promise. I pulled you back remember?” Anna reassuringly told her sister. Elsa slowly nodded as tears fell down her cheeks.

“Your version was different. You both had each other. Even the Isle exiled her...” Hades explained to them, stepping up from behind. The two sisters looked at him. “You said she had you?” Anna queried. Hades simply closed his eyes briefly and nodded. “I was the only one who would visit her. She just stayed in the forest freezing it before I did. I got her to eat and drink. Stay healthy. Thawed parts of the forest just to gain a reaction out of her numerous times.” He explained, smirking at the end bit. He remembered even those dark days fondly.

“Thank you Hades.” Elsa simply commented. “I never thought I’d thank a villain but you kept her stable. So thank you.” Elsa thanked him again, looking him in the eyes. He just simply nodded to her in recognition. He didn’t take his eyes off the Isle and Neva. “Neva..” he breathed. Elsa and Anna quietly stood out in the cold with him, despite the fact Anna could never handle the cold after she got her heart frozen when she was an teenager.

“has the dark in me finally come to light?

Am I monster full of rage?

No where to go but on a rampage, or am I just a monster....in a cage?”

Days and days went by and the storm just grew. Auradon was growing weaker from the freeze. Her revenge was finally coming to light. Elsa never left that balcony. Numerous people tried to get her inside but she refused to lose sight of her daughter.

“I’ve been talking with Hades... He’s going to go out there and talk her down.” Anna broke the silence walking up to Elsa in the morning of day 12 of this winter. Elsa looked at Anna. “How, it didn’t stop it from happening?” Elsa questioned, confused on how it could do the slightest bit help.

“Because I love her” Hades interrupted, answering her question. “If I can’t bring her back then when I’m back I’ve agreed to let Belle and Beast to destroy the bridge...” he explained, getting a lump in his throat as he spoke those words. The last thing he wanted was her to be stranded on the Isle forever. “Then bring her home. Bring my girl home” Elsa said, turning and looking him dead in the eye. She grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “I have faith you’ll bring her back to the light.”

Hades squeezed her hands back before letting go. “Keep her safe Anna. And... Look after Mal for me.” Hades requested, to which Anna hugged him with a simple “I will. Now go get our girl” before letting go.

Hades took a deep breath before exhaling and he tightly wrapped his coat round him before fighting through the storm to get across the bridge. If his theory was right, he should be able to enter the Isle with no problem and get to Neva. Neva squinted her eyes as she saw a figure in the storm battling across the bridge. “Turn back!!” She shouted, standing up, raising her hands, ready to fight.

“NEVA! ITS ME! ITS HADES!” He bellowed through the sound of the storm whirling around him. This stopped Neva dead in her tracks. Slowly lowering her hands, she waved them in a circular motion to make his walk easier to her. Her heart may be getting harder with the power in her, but she refused to have Hades struggle in her eternal winter she created. Hades stood up shit more right now the wind let up around him, and only him. It made him stop briefly to look around. He couldn’t help but be impressed by her power. It was equally beautiful as it was frightening.

Pulling his coat tighter across his chest, he power walked over to her and looked up when he reached the bottom of the balcony. “Neva this needs to stop. People are getting seriously ill from your cold.” He told her, his voice didn’t have an ounce of fear towards her or hatred. He spoke out of admiration and love. “They deserve everything they get. They trapped me in my frozen Hell, I’ll trap them in theirs.” She coldly told him, yet Hades could see the emotion of upset in her eyes. “The Isle kids don’t. I know they were scared of you, but they were just like you. Banished to this damned place. I was sent here. A God. Yet here I am trying to continue and bring back all the hard work my daughter created.” He tried to get through to her.

His plan didn’t go how he wanted as she glared and shot a barrier of icicles Infront of him, causing Hades to jump back slightly. “Neva! Please!” Hades called to her, desperation in his voice now. Since when did he ever feel the need to beg? This was not like him. He never begged but this woman was causing him to. “They wanted me to be a monster! So I became one! They’re reaping what they’ve sowed!” She all but yelled at him.

“Just let me come up! We can sort this mess out! If you stop this winter, they’ll let you back!” Hades pleaded with her. This momentarily caught Neva off guard and he wondered if he was finally getting through to the woman he had fallen in love with. Then her reaction changed back just as quick. “Lies! You think they’d welcome me back with open arms?! They’ll lock me up the moment I cross the bridge!” She told him, convinced that’d be the only outcome. Through her yelling, she unknowingly threw her arms up and shot a ice blade right at Hades, impaling him in the side.

Hades fell to the ground in pain as he made the blade thaw and melt. “HADES!!! NO!! OH MY GOD NO!” She looked wide eyed, shaking with fear at what she had done. Clambering up rapidly, she ran down her stairs and skidded down to him, the storm seizing, but the snow staying. “No no no no.. Hades I’m so sorry! I’m do so sorry.. please.. please don’t leave me, oh god..” She looked from the wound to his face quickly, running her hands through her hair and over her face. Her hands are shaking and she didn’t know what to do. “Neva, hey...hey look at me” Hades said, shivering as he felt her ice overtaking him.

Neva looked at him, tears falling from her eyes. “Its okay...I love you. I know I’m not one to say that sappy crap but...I love you.” He had to admit it to her, even if he didn’t survive her ice. “I love you too... Tell me how to fix this. Please, I can’t lose you...” She sobbed, leaning down placing her forehead on his. “Anna said love will thaw. Said you’d know what that means” He explained. She lifted her head and wracked her brain for the meaning. “Love will...thaw...love will thaw!” she remembered what her aunt told her about how her mother used the love in her heart to thaw the winter. Hovering her hands over his wound, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the ice, she thought about drawing it upwards and as she did so, her hands raised above Hades, speckles of thawed ice raising with her. The wound began to close and as she opened her eyes and smiled and chuckled. “I did it!”

With a grunt Hades stood up with Neva’s aid. He looked down at her with love in his eyes and a smile to match. “Now...let’s do the same with this storm. I believe in you” He told her, running his hands down to grab her hands. “What if I’m not strong enough?” She asked, afraid she won’t undo all she did. “With my power you will be.” He reassured her, giving her hands a squeeze and a nod of his head towards the bridge all to say 'come on'. With a gulp and a sigh, she let go of his hands and stood in the middle of the Isle and looked out towards Auradon. She raised her hands high above her head to skies above and Hades did the same with his ember in his grasp.

They glanced at each other and with a nod they looked back to the skies and used their powers to thaw the winter. Every bit of ice and snow began to rise from the ground and buildings around them and all come together into a snowflake in the now blue skies. Just like her mother had done years before. Parting her arms away she dispersed the cold and came back the warmth to all of the Isle and Auradon. The two of them could hear cheers and screams coming from Auradon in celebration. “Told you you could do it!” Hades smirked giving her a wink causing Neva to blush.

“Neva!” She quickly looked back towards the bridge and she saw her Aunt Anna come running down the bridge. Grabbing her hand once more, Hades walked her to the bridge and stood with her. The barrier still up for her. “Aunt Anna?” She spoke. “Neva! Oh my god that was incredible!! Your mom was so proud!” Anna was gushing. She may be older but that young spunky attitude was most definitely still there.

“Where is she?” Neva questioned. “On her way. She don’t do the whole running like a reindeer thing as she calls it.” Anna told her, panting from being out of breath. Neva smiled and saw just behind Anna was indeed Elsa with the fairy godmother beside her. She tried to work out their body language but couldn’t. “Neva. You froze Hans, you brought an lasting winter stronger than anything your mother made....” Fairy Godmother began talking which made both Anna and Hades to cough to make her get to the point. “But you’ve proven yourself here today. You’ve proven that through love you can change any outcome. So, to keep my part of Auradon's deal with Elsa and Hades, I remove your barrier and welcome you back to where you belong.” She smiled, waving her wand and spouting her famous words 'bibbidi bobbidi boo!’ the barrier broke down. Hesitantly Neva stepped one foot forward, finding she could finally cross. Elsa instantly pulled Neva into her grasp. “oh Neva! I’ve dreamed about this day to hold you in my arms again!” Elsa cried.

Anna gave Hades a little fist nudge on his arm, which brought a straight disapproving bloom from him. So she quickly retracted her grin. “Mother...” was all Neva could say. Elsa pulled her back to really look at her and wiped her remaining tears from her face. She guided her back to Hades and placed their hands together. “Thank you Hades. For giving my daughter the love she so desperately needed to show her there’s more to having these powers than destruction.” Elsa complimented him.

Hades was about to respond when the cry of “DAD!!” broke the moment up and Mal came bounding down the bridge with nearly all of Auradon and the Isle behind her. Mal threw herself onto her father hugging him. “I saw everything!” she said to him, before pulling away to look at Neva. “I am SO sorry...and I’m glad you’re with my dad.” She told Neva, hugging her. Neva shocked, hugged her back after computing the action. “Thank you Mal.” She said, pulling away and looking at everyone, “thank you all.” She told them.

Belle and Beast walked through the crowds to stood in front of Neva. “Neva” they spoke formally. She looked at them both nervously. Then Belle smiled and embraced her. “Come home” she declared. Neva smiled and nodded, “I want nothing more” was all that needed to be said before Hades stepped up to hold her hand and they all went back to Auradon....together.

#descendants hades #descendants fanfiction #hades x oc #descendants Hades fanfiction #descendants hades rp #descendants

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the-house-of-the-nine · 5 years

Text

In Depths Below: Lament Part 1

((If you follow our work you should know by now, the [ ] lists our mun/muse writers with their original work. Enjoy the continuation of our story please!!))

“Kel’kiros.”

The lead man slowly slipped his pistol into his holster.

“We need ten minutes, then we are air bound.”

“Yah’ll ‘ave yah ten. Yah be sure tah tell yah boss when ah’m done wit’ these fuckers. . . Ah’m comin’ for ‘im and the Kash’ebahl.”

And with that, Kel’kiros Kael’esett slowly ascended the staircase on his way to the bedroom where he would wait for The Nine to arrive. With polearm in hand and his massive armor shaking the floor as he quaked, it would be an ambush they would never expect...

Moments Later in the Halls of the Bastille. . .

[ L.K ] Kross was calmly moving through the hall of the Bastille doing as he had done every day in the past, and every day from this day, in his future. The upkeep and maintenance of the hallowed ground was paramount to his existence. Kross was after all head of the house and kitchen. Let’s face it, as steward, his duty was to fully look after everyone here and the whole ground itself. Never a book out of place. Never a weapon left abandoned.

Being dead had its perks for Scourge and Forsaken alike, but being cursed; well that was different all together. The old spirit would remain trapped in the endless loop of undeath roaming these halls tirelessly for eternity. Or until the phylactery he kept somewhere in the Bastille was destroyed.

Time dilation happens in a way that allows those who are wise enough to detect its movements, a chance to expect arrivals through that grand entrance door. Such a talent was limited to; but not lost to the others, primarily Lazarius and Kross, who spent most of their time here. But no doubt as Confessor, Verzatea Duskflame would likely detect these influxes and the comings and goings of the entire order with her web of intelligence. But Kross was vigilant none the less.

On this particular evening it was known to the old gilnean where his charge was at all times. He was proud that Lazarius was spending a great deal of his time in Stormwind, it meant he was searching for new blood. It meant he was keeping true to his duties as the High Inquisitor. But he also knew that the gentleman needed leisurely experiences, and that was what he had assumed tonight was.

He had mentioned meeting with Zalra to Kross, a “personal” day. So it would come as some shock when the keen old steward detected the door activating and her talisman being used. So much so that he had paused to observe the door, ceasing his cleaning all together.

Zalra would more or less come through the door in haste, it was shut behind her limiting what the old steward could see. But clearly from the look on her face something was abruptly ending her evening.

“Zalra Azurestar .... your arrival is most unexpected, I had thought you were deeply entrenched behind Stormwind lines”. Kross was shocked, just a bit as his tone portrayed. It took a lot to push the old man past concerned and into worried.

[ Z.A ] “No matter what Zalra... thank you... thank you.”

If it hadn’t been for those parting words, Zalra would have emerged into the halls with a look of determination upon her face. There would have been a proud posture about her as she would find those she needed to get the Inquisitor back. However, she didn’t. His thanks caused her to wince; it caused her to turn around and look back, only to be disappointed with the sight of the Bastille’s hall closet interior instead. What else was she truly expecting?

Turning around she unsurprising saw Kross, and immediately registered questioning her untimely and unexpected visit. Seeing the steward send a very brief moment of relief over her as she stepped forth. With a steady sigh, she regained the little composure she unseeing let slip from her.

“Kross,” she breathed in the cold air of the Bastille, finally.

Elsewhere in the halls...

[ V.D ] There had been a sluggishness to Verzatea's existence that was not so easily mended by Brinys's over all presence. There was great joy in her heart which made each day tolerable in it's suffer, just seeing her daughter grow and experience all of her firsts, but there was another piece of living that she had neglected in her desire to submerge herself in motherhood. Duty. Duty is what had brought the maiden from her room, absent of her daughter who had been given to a well trusted student.

What gave Tea peace of mind in allowing her daughter to be in the company of someone else who wasn't of the high council was the fact that she could easily see where within the Bastille they were, often checking up on the girl and her daughter with a mere flick of the wand. Thus, knowing her child was safe and she herself was free to do work as needed.

Verzatea would arrive in the great hall, lingering in a doorway and leering from the darkness whilst adjusting and fluffing the frilly fabric attached to the waist of her peplum dress. The dark red fabric did well to contrast against her paling skin, vibrant green eyes watching on curiously, brought here by the oddly familiar though hard to place presence which had bustled through the doors so quickly. It hadn't set off her alarms, which therein told Tea that who ever had come was of the Nine.

For the moment in which she spent staring aimlessly at the on goings within the hall she also spent it at length trying to determine if there was more that she had been left out of. If there were more people who were entrusted to go beyond the Bastille halls, if there was more at play than she was aware of. Such was a humbling, if not deeply humiliating, thought. How long had she been reclusive from the inner workings?

[ R / L ] Raith had exited the grand library for a brief moment, just to get a snack. He couldn't continue his goals on an empty stomach. He made sure to avoid Brinys whenever he could - he didn't want to see that rapidly-growing monster. Once he'd gotten a little something to eat, in the form of a cup of hot tea and a small plate of scones, he paused upon seeing Zalra on his way back to the library.

Sharp eyes focused on them - he'd been in his studies so deeply he hadn't had a chance to meet them. Not bothering to hide, he simply stood in a hallway, staring down Zalra and examining her. This one better not have been more competition for his rightful place.

[ L.K ] “You look at your superiors with contempt, not respect. Learn early little prince, without loyal subjects you will be missing your head in no time flat.”. Marseille, the first shade to Lazarius slowly took a place beside Raith on the upper level peering down at the incident below.

[ R / L ] “I’ve been adopted for a reason. If it’s not to rule, then I can’t imagine what it was for. I’ll be less aggressive when my rightful place is no longer at risk.” Hissed Raith softly to the shade. “Who are you to question me anyway?”

[ L.K ] “Your rightful place is to serve this order as all who come before you. Not step onto a throne you are assuming is entitled to you.”. The Shal’dorei hissed right back.

“Your ‘father’ would disown you if he heard you, this is a council and a home of freedom for these people, people who put their lives everyday on the line to protect that freedom.” The whitish pink eyes of the shade watched closely below and turning only for a second to address the ‘prince’.

“Forget my words and on your coronation day I will personally end your reign as the shortest in documented history.”

[ R / L ] Raith couldn't believe his ears - or rather, he didn't want to believe them. "They saw potential in me," he growled.

"They knew I could be better than what I was. If they're not going to use me properly...ignore my developing talents...then perhaps, I should leave." the boy gave the shade a rather serious look.

A look of utter disdain and hatred, a look that reflected what he always felt for the world. Nothing is ever fair! he thought, and indeed, the world hadn't been particularly kind to him. Not even getting adopted seemed to change his view of the world, it had given him no hope.

He been found in the Ghostlands, and later in Silvermoon, at such a young age because the world simply wasn't fair. He was thriving back then only because he had given up on hope of the world suddenly becoming fair to him.

With that, he moved to head to his bedroom. If he wasn't stopped, he'd commence his newfound plans to run away.

[ Z.A ] “The Inquisitor has been apprehended by bounty hunters.” She cut to the chase, knowing there was no time to unleash any filler of the situation.

“Kun-Lai Summit. Someone by the name of Magister Dawnseeker tracked him there. He mentioned something about “paying up”. We need to get him now, they might still be there!”

Now that the main concern had been unleashed upon any ears that were intentionally listening, she began to go into detail about the new devices that were used to capture Lazarius.

“They had these…cuffs that eat void magic and prevent anyone from escaping on that power…” The Sin’dorei disguise void elf turned her fel-fire eyes to Kross as he stared at her with a narrowed gaze.

[ V.D ] The Confessor stiffened up, her lips pressing into a firm line.

[ L.K ] Dawnseeker. Kross could hardly control her even as she nearly burst at the seems trying to express how much panic was ensuing over the last few moments of her interaction. He would almost institutionally reach to calm her as he placed both hands on her shoulders and narrowed his vision into a stern glance.

"Dawnseeker. . ." At the talk of bounty hunters and devices, Kross peered around the hall, hoping someone would have been there to aid them but alas. He was alone. Dammit. "Calm down Zalra. . . Calm yourself. If he sent you here. . .it must have been for good reason. To get help." He was unsure how to react with the girl, Kross had not had much experience with her save for a few introductions here and there. He once helped her settle in her chambers when first arriving with the rest of them since it was many of the new orders first time within the Bastille.

"Where is Vari. . .gods be damned.” he muttered to himself.

“Someone get me The Harbinger. . ."

Kross would do the only thing he naturally thought he could in a situation such as this and moved away from the panicking huntress. He stepped silently toward the large brick terrace just off the main entrance way, and in the cove there was a large braided cord. It was gripped and pulled three times. The bell that was attached to it would sound through the entire hall, the entire Bastille for that matter.

He would alert every last person alive and even dead with the sound of that bell. The same bell that some of them may remember was used to announce the invading Gallows when the Bastille fell.

"Zalra. . . We will get him back. If I know Lazarius. . .he is stalling them. . .just calm yourself and breathe.*" Kross repeated as he looked toward the upper level waiting for a sign of help. It would almost seem as though he was trying to reassure himself of that same fact. Be calm. Do not panic.

[ R / L ] Raith was the only one who would be absent from the bell's call, no doubt. He was almost to his room, now. A few more paces and he could begin packing. A few more paces...and he would be done with these people who had come to raise him.

Done with these people who failed to pay enough attention, failed to interact with him. Failed to parent him...and worse yet, dared parent another with care and gentleness in front of his very eyes. Brinys will get what she deserves one day, but not today, he thought.

[ K.A ] Koltun stood outside of Raiths room, felfire glowing brightly through the worn fabric of his bandana. He didn't necessarily need to cover his eyes among those within the household, but he felt some propriety could be used. Even when used to seeing undead knights, void elves drained, and other horrors, it could still be unnerving to look up into the empty and burnt sockets of an illidari. Even if orbs of fel fire had taken up residence within the pockets. Large horns curving out and up from the main of his blond hair were tipped to the side slightly, the hunter cocking his head to regard the boy with silent curiosity.

He had heard the bell, hastily cleaning blood and gore from his claws and chest before heading out to answer the call, on my to see Raith heading the -other- way.

"Bastille hallways can be confusing, hmm?" The hunter rumbled, stretching a wing out with a small shake.

"I knew the halls of the Estate since I was younger than yourself, and even I still got turned around, but here? Forget it." His other wing stretched out, blocking the boys door in a casual manner.

"It would be my honor to accompany you to the call of the bell. Sounds important."

[ R / L ] Raith scowled at the wing blocking his way. "You don't need to, beast. I'm leaving." he spat.

[ Z.A ] Zalra felt her cheeks flush briefly with a rosy tint. Embarrassment crept up her throat as Kross suggested she calm herself. She was trying her hardest to have a strong stance to her report, but the old man had more years than her to read people more accurately than others.

When Kross’ hand’s gently steadied her shoulders, the ‘Sin’dorei’ tensed noticeably but did not shrug away. He was trying to help the situation and she couldn’t blame him for his efforts. She wasn’t going to be rude to the steward and shake him off, so she stood there accepting it.

Her mind was clear as Zalra prepared herself for the plan that was developing in the minds of those present; well…she hoped so. The situation was unfamiliar to her. She couldn’t formulate anything against this mysterious Dawnseeker.

[ K.A ] Koltun arched a brow at that. "Leaving, hmm?" And planted the rest of his body in front of the door, dominating it completely. He could have moved, could have simply let the boy run off, perhaps he would have, once upon a time. But something inside said no.

“Why?" He asked simply, folding his arms over the tattooed expanse of his bare chest.

[ R / L ] “If you idiots won't let me be useful, won't use my talents, or even give me attention, then I don't see why I'm sticking around.” said the young elf as he tried to get around him, failing.

[ K.A ] Examining his claws, the hunter remained silent, pursing his lips thoughtfully. Tucking his wings back, he stretched, then hooked an ankle over the other, full on leaning upon the door. It gave an uncomfortable creak beneath his weight, but remained firm.

"Mm. I see. How odd. For some reason I thought you were stronger than this. I dont know many your age who are granted schooling to enhance your skills and broaden your arsenal, the freedom to work on them at your pace, and a home with a roof and fine food. Those seen as strong individuals are rarely given coddling. They don't need it, it hinders." Koltun brought his arms up to hook behind his head, shifting his gaze to the ceiling.

"At least that's how I saw you. In fact I was downright jealous you were loved enough to be granted so much luxury... I wasn't when I was given to the estate." Tilting his head, Koltun regarded Raith.

"Guess I didn't need to be jealous. Only weak minded creatures throw tantrums and run away. Actually makes me sad. Wanted to get to know you."

[ R / L ] He pinned his ears back. His pride would no doubt be wounded. Clenching his fists, he told Koltun through nearly-gritted teeth, "...I'm. Not. Weak."

[ K.A ] Dark lips peeled back in a small grin, pearled canines peeking past.

"Oh? If you weren't weak, why are you running? Why are you throwing away opportunity only to return to dismembering rats on the street for fun? Looks less like a string decision and more like a weak temper tantrum to me." Kolt removed his bandana to dramatically run his eye with a fist.

"Woe is me! I'm not seen as useful because I'm still learning how to be better than I am now! Poor me, they want me to be the strongest but I'm too weak to see that so I'm going to run away! They care about me so much they adopted me and gave me opportunity but they're too -busy- trying to keep things running and everyone alive to pay coddle me except this damned illidari! Gods what an asshole that scaled beast is! How dare he -care-" He stopped and gave Raith a flat look.

"Sound familiar? You say you're not weak? I'm willing to believe it. But you have to crawl before you can walk, and walk before you can run. I'd rather see you at full strength with all the knowledge offered to you from here, than see you flail about like a fish our of water, whining you're strong and half assing your abilities because you cant see the big picture."

[ R / L ] Raith was silent for a while, but still scowling. "...Then I'm not running away." he said, turning on a heel to head to where the bell had originally summoned him.

[ S.D ] Between the sound of the bell and the overwhelming emotions flooding the halls from Raith, the Compellor rushed from her quarters. Had it not been for the wall of rage from the boy she would have likely ran into Kolt. “Both of you, please stop..” she grumbled holding her temple. She looked to Raith and reached for his hand as she too headed towards the sound—saying nothing but hoping the pained youth would take it. Which he did.

[ K.A ] Koltun smirked, rather proud that he'd thus far successfully prevented Raith from leaving. Perhaps he could have approached it differently, but the pride and anger he saw in the child made him realize that conventional methods, like ones he would use on Vari or Siida, wouldn't work. So he took things a bit tougher. In his eyes, Raith could do with a small dose of reality. As Sennaris emerged, he held his hands up.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help here." He offered, falling into step behind the two of them to answer the call.

The last thing he truly ever wanted to do, was be asked to hunt down and kill Raith if he left. He never kidded himself, he was not a good man. But even he put a limit on harming children.

[ V.D ] From the threshold in which she hid herself Tea would emerge in the Great Hall with a look of grief, alas she didn't look so overwhelmed. She looked determined. In her hand was her wand, the extension of her arm, the filter which helped concentrate her powers into booming magnificence.

Her hair fell into her eyes as she'd bow her head toward Zalra and Kross, given she didn't fully straighten herself though she did not speak. There was a frog there, stuffed inside of her throat, making it hard to swallow, to breathe

[ L.K ] Kross who had been waiting patiently for the rest of them to finally get there, turned upon hearing the sound of footsteps to notice it was Verzatea.

“Confessor...Did you not hear her? What are you doing just standing there! Defense of our Inquisitor, Students and Magic users now!”. His eyes were glowing fiercely white as her turned back toward Zalra.

“You came through, reactivate your talisman and take us back.”

“And somebody get Vari for the love of the Gods below!” Kross grabbed hold of Zalra and shoved her toward the door to hasten the need for action. “And find Koltun, maybe the demon can use his lack of eyesight to track him!”

In and entirely separate action, Marseille would leap over the side of the upper level and gracefully descend to the floor below, silent as his soft bare feet touched down against the stone. He would reach for the individual knives on his belt and count them lightly before nodding to assure he had them all, and also the tomahawk against his spine pushed between his belt loop and clothes.

[ P.K ] A raven within the rafters watched everything unfold, the beaded eyes shifting from onyx gems to stark-blue to match its mistress. Upon Kross’ command, he let out a wicked caw that was ominous and echoed through the halls. Upon hearing such deep within the bowels of the Bastille, her eyes shifted upward and a look of sudden fear overcame her visage for a mere moment. It was a fear not for herself, but for her brother.

As she trained the cultists, her eyes would then transform to that of the onyx beads of her raven, the pair exchanging vision a moment. She witnessed Kross in a rare state of unease and urgency and she barked her orders to the recruits that they would be needed soon enough.

The more elite of the army gathered around, circling them, readying to shift gears at the call of their mistress. Vari whirled away from them and within moments, the frigid aura was felt by all within the Grand Hall as she'd used her supernatural speed and strength to scale the underground tower. The chaotic whispers of madness that radiated from her saronite armor would be felt as the ominous clomps of plate along stone began a harsh echo along the walls before ceasing as she stood in place near the hall entrance, taking in the scene of congregated bodies before her.

She stood atop frost, fingers of ice now snaking outward from where she was stationed indicating just how furious she was. She looked wild, a fury in her lich-drenched eyes as she snapped her gaze from first Zalra then to Kross, coming to stand beside the steward as she felt her ire rise.

“What is this I hear about Lazarius?” she hissed, knowing well what it was that Guntram had allowed her to see and hear. The raven let out another caw, a rich, piercing noise before gliding down to settle along his mistress' shoulder.

[ L.K ] “Hunters tracked him to Kun-Lai Summit, working under the Magister named Dawnseeker. They’ve grabbed him, we need to get back there.”

Kross turned as Vari had arrived, he was feeling far more relieved at this point. The old gilnean only had one desire at this point, and that was to break through that door at once.

[ P.K ] A foreboding rumbling was making its way through the halls now, a slight shaking of the floors and the sound of plate on stone. It would be clear that the army was moving through the lower halls.

[ V.D ] Twisting atop her high heels the Confessor would whip forth her wand, bursts of bright blue-white light hurtling through the halls of the Bastille at a hasty speed -- in the distance one could see the lights separating, forming into her conjured animal of emergency and culling, beasts formed to herd and bring the students of the magically inclined Nine from their deep studies.

In the next instant had the ever silent Confessor whipped her wand around over head in a slight arch, a burst of dark magics settling over her being and consuming her for a mere moment. As she'd swiftly return to view, the shadows dispersing into a cloud of fading smoke to reveal Tea in her battle garb.

Cloth robes dressed in bits of metal plate to protect her torso and legs but remaining not so constricting. Her wrists were bandaged tightly with bracers, her hands decorated with metal claws attached to the tips.of her fingers. Her once free flowing blonde hair was now tugged up into a tight hair bun, around her neck hung the unused cloth hood. The dark purple and black of her garb contrasted drastically against her paling skin.

True she wasn't speaking. But she was fully present, and as students would begin to trickle in behind her dressed in garb similar to their last great war... She was prepared.

[ Z.A ] Zalra would notice more joining them, and spotted the more familiar face of Verzatea Dustkflame; The Confessor. The woman’s nod in brief greeting did not go unnoticed, however Zalra was shoved by Kross and turned her attention away. An appropriate reaction, to be fair. There were more pressing matters than the ‘Sin’dorei’ following frivolous formalities. As everyone prepared for battle, she too adjusted the grip of her strange, void-addled spear, and reached for the handle of the door with her gauntlet hand.

She ripped it open quickly to reveal not the Bastille’s hall closet, but a brief glance into the interior of the Kun Lai Summit mountainous cabin. Zalra would be the first through the portal on command.

[ P.K ] The rumbling was louder and the floor shook as The Nine’s most elite began to filter in behind their mistress into a very thick and odd formation in the small space. They were all clad in head to toe armor that was dark in color with violets and vibrant green accents. Helmets were drawn. Weapons of all variations were held. They waited.

[ L.K ] Stepping back through the portal beside the Spear wielding huntress would be the other who worked as she did. Marseille; the Shaldorei would be holding his knives and stepping in with her.

“We go. . .Zalra lead on, Confessor, your students to protect and seal the barrier. Harbinger hold the line. . .” Kross would rush in, and the scene they would find was mostly innocuous.

No sign of a struggle, no sign of blood or destroyed parts of the building. It seemed all was calm. Boot prints coming in from the front door of the small three room cabin we’re clear.

“Six men were here.”. Marseille said as he knelt down beside one set of tracks. The cabin was surrounded on all sides by pane glass windows, it opened the room up. Outside the others could see they were somewhere on the mountain. The fire and candles had been put out, an empty bottle of wine was spilled, a box looking to contain a gift was scattered. The look of a casual evening gone wrong.

“Marseille can you detect tracks.. where is he?”. Kross pushed his way into the room and began to look about.

“He was lofted. The weight and imprint of these tracks in the snow match one set of boots coming in, yet more weigh pushing down. He did not leave on his own.”. The Shaldorei stated while observing prints outside the door crushed into the fresh powder.

The tiny cabin was no where big enough to hold all the students and soldiers, it could possibly contain twenty people comfortably. They’d have to hold back. Kross would begin to look over the room before pushing his way back into the doorway to the Bastille. “I will attempt to contact him with the pit...”

Marseille on the other hand continued out into the snow. He would see if he could track them further. If there was a way to detect where they had gone, he would find it. But at that moment, when he had walked out the door, there was a sound upstairs. It appeared someone was left and still mulling about.

[ V.D ] With a careful tugging motion the Confessor would pull her hood up over her head, the hood fitting snugly around her ears and falling low into her darkened eyes whilst her boots another change to her attire from Verzatea to Confessor - crunching gently against the snow as she watched the Shade work. The noise was heightened slightly as the mages and other magically inclined spiritualists of the Nine fell in kine behind the lanky woman back inside the main room, four of them to be exact. As she drew closer to the meandering figure of Zalra, the woman lofted her free hand - though her wand hand was at the ready to defend - thus to taste the atmosphere. Feeling for any sort of magic in the air lingering in hopes to entrap her fellow Nine, metal claws slicing the air as she tapped into her third eye.

[ Z.A ] As soon as Zalra crossed the threshold, she made way for the handful of others participating in Lazarius’ rescue. However, she did hesitate briefly in her movements. The empty room and lack of bounty hunters made her stomach twist, but, deep down it was unsurprising. Dawnseeker’s men had their target; why would they wait around for a coat?

She listened carefully to Marseille’s investigative results and only frowned further, he was right. They couldn’t have gotten too far, though? Unless portals were involved. However, Zalra knew that someone would be able to track any arcane residue left behind, right? Then again, she didn’t know the extent of the group’s abilities.

She just stood by for orders to follow. Her intentions were to follow into the snow to help scout, however, something caught her attention. The huntress paused a couple feet from the door when she heard a strange sound above her.

“Someone is still here.” She stated flatly, eyes already to the ceiling. Parting from the group, Zalra cautiously headed up the nearby stairs; her spear poised defensively.

[ K.A ] Urgency. The air filled with it. Without warning Koltun launched himself skyward, fel tattoos flaring brightly to life as he soared down the hallway, up over the railing and spun down into the entrance hall, landing beside Vari. Already Fel energies twisted around his scaled form, spectral sight sweeping the room. He paused a moment at Zalra, tilting his head to listen.

Koltun didnt wait, stepping through the door of the Bastille to follow after Zalra and the others, already allowing fel to fill within his core, fueling his regular mutations into a further shift.

The sound of snapping bones and twisting muscle heralded his entrance into the area, his once short, 5'10 stature expanding until he nearly crested eight feet . Large, curving horns had grown, dark flesh now blackened, covered in building scales that coated his form in an approximation of armor, booted feet now replaced with talented feet.

A beast he was before, but it was no beast that ducked through the doorway after Marseille, but the full fledged shape of a demon. Terrifying felfire eyes flared to life as he set his gaze up the stairs, wings cracking with a sudden flex that stretched them out to cover the doorway. Both glaives rested comfortably within the demons clawed hands as he quietly let Zalra speak, a wave of darkness, fear inducing, flooding from his very form.

[ L.K ] Inside the cabin, Verzatea and Zalra stood at the base of the small staircase which led up to a loft where the bedroom would no doubt be. The cabin was not large by any standard, it was however very fancy and rather luxurious in all other areas. Lazarius did love this place, it was a shame that another of his precious homes was now lost.

Marseille had moved outside into the heavy snow and wind, the poor man was barely dressed in anything but leathers and a few scraps of cloth. He was busy tracking where the group went off to.

Koltun too had rushed out the door but upon hearing the sounds and the women inside, would force himself back toward the front door.

Kross returned into the Bastille with hopes that he could in fact detect where Lazarius was being taken with the Pit of Lothia. It was a long shot but it may have been worth trying.

Back in the cabin, Upstairs there came another noise. But the sound of the door opening was quite the tell that it was in fact a person. Maybe even one of those grummles but a person was up there none the less.

“Come all this way, an’ not a god damn thin’ tah steal.” a voice which was like sand paper on the ear came rushing down the stairs. It would be like a mixture of dwarvish common and southern pirate. It was raspy, coarse and throaty, obviously male.

Heavy plated boots began to march down the hallway leading to the landing before the stairs. Whoever this was had spurs, or the chains of his armor were rattling as he walked.

“What ah fuckin’ waste o’ time... collect some old cheap bastard...can’t even pillage or kill... waste o’ meh time.” after his next exchange which sounded like he was talking to himself there would be a faint sound of air valves being released and gas being expelled from a servo motor.

The sound of gears and cog wheels turning, a clearly mechanical sound. Though he was still heading toward the top of the stairs. The two below, Verza and Zalra clearly knew he was coming before he would know they were down below.

[ V.D ] A slow glance was offered to Zalra, the Confessor's wand tip aloft and pointed into the direction of the concerning new voice, her shoulders tensing and head bowing and tilting in a manner kin to that of a snake. Alas, she didnt start tasting the air with her tongue. That would be weird. Instead she turned to her charges nearby, and waved her fingers in the air, two to be exact in a circular motion followed by a tightly balled fist.

They knew exactly what was being said and in silence, the four of them rushed to the doorway of the Bastille and began channeling a barrier to keep the others in, and the danger out. More so, it was to prevent harm from anyone else entering. The Bastille would deal with intruders on its own if someone did breech the gateway.

She rolled her weight onto the tips of her boots and began her slow ascending, creeping along the steps whilst aiming to follow the voice, her curiosity peaked.

“Perhaps he has answers regarding our Lord'“ she'd hiss so softly beneath her breath.

[ L.K ] Step by step, inch by inch. It would seem Zalra was slowly trying to ascend the stairwell, while in the same series of events another person was casually making there way down the hall toward them. It would be safe to say that the two women and several other students were safely about mid-way up the stairs. The climb was slow and cautious and it would be worth their wait to do so in the most calm and careful manner possible.

And at that same very moment it would seem that the front door of the little cottage would burst to light and come swinging open into the room sending a rush of cold air to go fluttering through the lower levels and right up the stairs. Marseille, who had been out in the cold tracking, had rushed into the room with his breath nearly taken away. His calm and almost tranquil demeanor would be broken when he shouted to the two women who were in his sight.

"There is one still here!" It seemed they knew, and the Shal'dorei was already poised with two knives split between his index and ring finger and thumb and index finger on both hands; he was prepared to hurl them at someone.

It would be this action that would cause the students and two higher acting officers to turn and study the actions of the slender man, they would have never noticed the man who had appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Well, well. . .what'dah'we 'ave 'ere." The male voice that had just spoken to them was that of the intruder who was now looking down at the group.

Standing before them at the top of the landing, was a mountain of a Sin'dorei man. He was quite tall and his features were covered from head to toe in a thick and glorious set of obsidian armor. Save of course for the mechanical hand that was still operating and buzzing away.

His face was heavily scarred, covering most of his lower mouth and lips with slash marks and blade attacks. His ears were halved. The left missing most of the top part where the tip would have been and the right missing most of the lobe and bottom. His eye, yes one, was a fel fire green but began to bleed into that strange yellow hue that so many who were reunited with the sunwell had. The other, well, the other was covered by a thick black leather eye patch.

He hissed and snarled as the monstrous man held a halberd that even rivaled the one Zalra had, it was very menacing and dripping with blood already. And to top it all off, that red foxtail behind his head was bobbing back and forth when he spoke.

"Seems we'ave some intruders. . ."

TBC... “In Depths Below: Lament, Part 2″

@siidaraykashebahl

@daltalah

@pyravari-kashebahl

@thebladeitself

@whatadarkbitch

@zalraazurestar

@lady-dawnblood

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laurent-ofvere · 7 years

Text

amnesia snippets bc im a disorganized fuck

“ @safetytank the base plot is that ya boys are out doing something or other with some soldiers and get jumped by bandits, damen gets clonked on the head and THE REST IS HISTORY (fuck me i’d love to make this proper and finished but the wedding fic is taking up all my attention) also feel free to stick any of this under a readmore bc even these little bits are kinda long”

DAMEN GETS AMNESIA AND FORGETS LAURENT AND ITS SO SAD AND IM SO SAD EVERYONE READ THIS AND CRY WITH ME

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

Auguste of Vere knelt over him, one hand tilting his jaw upwards as that accented voice said again, “Damen.”

In the split-second it took him to drive his fist into the prince’s shoulder, he had the sense of mind to stomp down the pang of guilt at how his opponent’s expression had been one of worried concern.

Strangely—if fortunately—the Veretian hadn’t expected the move at all, and hit the ground hard enough that the force threw him onto his back. In the space of a heartbeat, Damen rolled over and scrambled to his feet, yanking his sword from its scabbard in expectation that the other prince would have done the same.

He hadn’t. His counterpart had only managed to wedge an elbow between himself and the grassy dirt, and now Damen could see what looked like a piece of yellow silk knotted tightly around the arch of his foot.

He frowned, his sword’s grip never wavering. Auguste hadn’t been injured before they had begun fighting, he was sure of it. And neither of their armies carried yellow, only blues and reds. Now that he thought on it, he didn’t recognize their surroundings at all. Marlas was a wide-open field, not a valley between gently-sloping hills and dense forest.

And Auguste…was not Auguste, he realized with a dawning moment of comprehension. The man lying at his feet was a fair double, possessing the same pale complexion and blond hair as the Veretian royal family, but he was thinner, softer, and wore his fear more plainly than any real crown prince would have allowed.

“Damen,” the impersonator repeated. Then, in Akielon, “It’s me.”

He breathed out, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. Just like Vere to claim they would hold to the rules of an honorable battle, and then send a body-double in their prince’s place. He sheathed his sword, staring down at the false prince with unmasked disdain.

“Clearly,” he spat, “it is not. Tell me where you have taken me.”

The confusion on the double’s face gave him pause, enough that the man seemed able to gather himself, wheels clearly turning behind those lake-blue eyes.

“We’re camped at the foothills of Serecote,” the false prince spoke in accented Akielon. “You are in no danger.”

His glance around them at the bodies strewn across the grass was a snippy retort all on its own.

“They were brigands,” the Veretian continued, admirably calm for someone sprawled on the ground with what looked like a broken ankle and a ruse that had come apart inside of a minute. “Loyal to no country and no ruler. All of them have been dispatched.”

As likely a story as any. “Why have you brought me here?” he demanded, very deliberately placing a hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword. “Are you hoping for an Akielon surrender if my father can’t produce a combatant? Because I can assure you that won’t be the case.”

The imposter’s flinch was the only hint that his words had any effect whatsoever. No matter, he thought, taking a last glance at the corpses strewn around them for any clue that one might be playing dead with a knife gripped under their bloodied breastplate. The hills surrounding them would provide enough of a vantage point to gauge his distance from any mountain ranges, and from there chart his course back to the border.

The only problem would be evading his captors but, as he met the double’s eyes again, he didn’t believe that would be too much of an obstacle.

“Damen.” He paid the double no attention, choosing the nearest hill that wouldn’t leave his back exposed, in case the imposter had falsified his broken ankle as well. “Damen!” Then what had to be a filthy curse in Veretian. “Damen, wait!”

“Don’t call me that,” he responded in annoyance, turning his head enough to catch sight of the imposter still propped up on his elbows—his injury legitimate, then.

“Damianos of Akielos,” the double snapped, the title dripping with venom. “Your father has been dead for three years.”

The lie was of such poor quality its brazen tone caught him entirely off-guard.

“Is that what they told you to say?” he blurted after a moment or two. “Your masters are more terrible at this than I thought. Where’s your national pride in dishonesty and deceit?”

He shouldn’t have stayed to insult the exposed fraud, no matter how amusing it was to see the man take such offense that he was rendered practically speechless.

~~~~~~~~OH SHIT EVERYONE ELSE SHOWS BACK UP~~~~~~~

“United?” he blurted, the words punching through the shock rooting him to the spot. “How—when—”

“I believe it would be appropriate,” Auguste’s double interjected, silencing Nikandros’ beginnings of an answer, “for proper introductions at this time. None of this will make sense to him otherwise, so it would be prudent to begin with what is most important.”

From the gathered men’s silence, it seemed they agreed. Damen bristled silently at their acquiescence to a Veretian, and a professional liar at that.

“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “I would hope you know me already,” he addressed the gathered Akielons, whose nods without hesitance were a comfort. “In fact,” he turned back to the man wearing a prince’s armor, “the only one here I don’t know is you.”

Were he not seated as close to the imposter as he was, he might not have caught the minute strain of a tendon in the man’s neck, only a flicker of movement before those icy eyes settled on his own.

“Very well,” the man replied, his tone deliberately kept even. “Your people know me as King Laurent of Vere.”

King? His mouth fell open. He didn’t bother trying to close it again.

“You, however,” the man, the king of Vere, continued, “know me as your Prince-Consort.” He spoke the Akielon words with more of a pronounced accent than he did his conversational vocabulary. “We have been married for two and a half years.”

“We have not,” was all that came out of his mouth, on such a whispery breath that it robbed the words of the argumentative tone he’d intended. “We haven’t—Nikandros, this is—”

His friend’s lowered eyes were answer enough on their own.

“Married?” Damen blurted helplessly. To him?

“Whether you remember it or not, it was somewhat of an extravagant affair,” continued King Laurent, as if he were discussing the weather. “Three days of ceremonies, seven more of feasting, some ridiculous display you insisted on that involved horses—”

“The first ride is a revered tradition,” Damen mumbled, cheeks flushing with warmth. The thought of parading around atop a ceremonially-decorated steed with this mouthy Veretian royal in his lap was embarrassing enough without the addition that everyone presently gathered had likely witnessed it as well.

“So you told me, repeatedly.” The king’s tone remained cool and unperturbed as one pale finger idly circled the rim of his goblet. “Perhaps it’s better you’ve forgotten the mountains of paperwork that came after. Ratifying the merge of two kingdoms did not make for a particularly thrilling honeymoon.”

They were married.

~~~~~~~~MOM THE BOYS ARE FIGHTING ;A;~~~~~

“Oh,” he groaned aloud. Right. Married. Of course there was only one bed. “Did we—”

“We shared it,” Laurent answered, his eyes never straying from his sheaf of paper. “And many other things besides.”

He was glad Laurent hadn’t looked up. He wouldn’t have approved of Damen’s appalled expression.

“You needn’t subject yourself to my presence tonight.” Of course Laurent had caught his shudder despite Damen’s best attempt to hide it. “My own quarters are distanced enough that my existence shouldn’t offend your gentle sensibilities.”

“Are you always like this?” he responded irritably, his words harshened by exhaustion and still-lingering disbelief. “I can’t think what I must have seen in being insulted every time I so much as breathe with you around.”

“It’s no concern of mine that you shy away from responsibility like a whipped dog,” retorted Laurent, finally deigning to lift his gaze from the report fix Damen with an icy, calculating stare.

“I’ve been told not half a day ago that not only is every member of my family dead, some after trying to kill me, but that I’m supposed to lead two kingdoms’ worth of people that want any excuse to throw us back into war!” he exclaimed in exasperation. “It’s a lot to take in, thank you!”

He’d hoped pleading for sympathy might soften those blue eyes, but they merely narrowed in subtle displeasure.

“Ten years might have passed for you, but they haven’t for me,” he continued, too tired to keep the helplessness from seeping into his voice. “I’m not the Damianos all of you are convinced I must be. I have no idea what to make of any of this, to be truthful. I’m still not sure I believe any of this is really happening. And you’re not helping with this needless vulgarity.”

Laurent simply stood and made to leave. “You are correct,” he spoke over his shoulder in parting. “You are not Damianos. He would never defend his inexperience by bleating like a sullen child.”

The canvas flap of the tent entrance had already swung back into place before he’d finished spitting an obscenity at Laurent’s retreating back.

~~~~~~everyone’s upset, let’s calm down a little and try again~~~~

“His Majesty humbly requests your presence, Exalted.”

The messenger was well-trained enough not to react to Damen’s disbelieving snort at the use of the word “humbly.”

The tableau in his head hadn’t been exact, but he’d carried a clear expectation of how the King of Vere might present himself upon Damen’s entering his tent. From what little time they’d spent together he’d become quite accustomed to the haughty reticence and lancing words, familiar with his supposed-husband’s meticulous dedication to exacting social performances. As such, Damen had expected to find him lounging disinterestedly on some ornate piece of Veretian furniture, or perhaps seated at his missive-covered desk with a quill and impossibly straight-backed posture.

He certainly hadn’t expected to catch the ruler of two nations in the midst of pouring tea.

“Damen,” Laurent acknowledged, “thank you for coming.”

Everything about the scene was jarring. The fussy, demanding King Laurent bent over a low-set table with an overly elaborate piece of porcelain in hand, serving tea as if the camp wasn’t full of attendants to do it for him. The pair of cups he must have acquired specifically for this purpose, as their Akielon simplicity couldn’t have looked more out of place surrounded by Veretian opulence. The fact that Damen had been greeted cordially, almost warmly, rather than enduring some manner of snide comment upon his entrance.

He hadn’t been this wary since his father had agreed to hear the Veretian herald’s terms at Marlas.

The dark turn of his thoughts must have shown on his face. Laurent set the teapot down, one pale hand indicating the seat arranged opposite his own.

“I fear we’ve made poor first impressions of one another,” he said, making no visible acknowledgment of Damen’s cautious approach and guarded sitting posture. “Yesterday was a volatile time for the both of us, yourself in particular. I believe it would be to our mutual benefit if we could, perhaps, start anew?”

If it seemed too straightforward for what Damen had come to understand was a treacherously corkscrew Veretian nature, it was probably exactly that.

“As much as I’m sure you’d love to uncover some hidden motive of mine,” Laurent interrupted as if reading his thoughts, “you will be disappointed to find that I am perfectly capable of honesty, should the situation call for it.” Some unidentifiable emotion passed over those blue eyes. “I have you to thank for that, in fact. Tea?”

Whatever his dedication to remaining steadfast against Laurent’s machinations, he could perhaps hope that one claiming to be his husband would not try to poison him with so many Akielon soldiers gathered outside. His first sip had his brows raising in surprise.

“This is—”

“Ironwart,” Laurent finished for him. “You introduced me after we returned to Ios.” Something gentle flitted across his face, quickly hidden by the action of lifting his own cup to his lips. “You pouted at me for an entire afternoon when I told you Veretian tea is taken with milk.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said, “you’d just end up—”

“—Diluting the flavor,” Laurent said together with Damen, their voices mingling in unison. “You were quite clear in your belief that I’d rendered the health benefits entirely ineffectual.”

“Not that it stopped you, I’m assuming.”

“Now you’re catching on.” The approval in Laurent’s tone sounded strange, at least compared to the predictability of his snappish insults, but it was not unpleasant to have directed at Damen for once.

His eyes caught on a glitter at Laurent’s wrist. Strange, he hadn’t thought the king’s austere preferences included jewelry. Laurent, of course, noticed immediately, and lifted his other hand to tug back his sleeve.

The golden cuff encircling one slender wrist was Akielon in design, simple in shape and minimalist in decoration. Were the implication of such an item not paramount to its aesthetics, he might have said the color suited the Veretian king.

“You gave me this,” Laurent said, turning his hand so that the metal glimmered in the lamplight. “Its twin sits on your own arm.”

~~~~~~~~~~REBUILD UR RELATIONSHIP AW YEAH~~~~~~~~~

“Tell me about Damianos.”

Laurent, perceptive as ever, had immediately turned those blue eyes upon him with an unreadable expression. “What do you wish to know?” The guarded tone was clear, though his closing and setting aside his book was a sign that it was safe to proceed.

“What you—what he was like,” Damen corrected. “There are ten years between us, and I have…difficulty understanding the place he occupied in the world.”

Though Laurent remained seated with a wary stiffness, the admission seemed successful as an extended olive branch. “He was an effective ruler,” he began, clearly playing his words close to his chest. “Much beloved by his people, and passionate about the merge of two kingdoms so long at war with one another. Though he was one of the best captains I had ever served with, he did not possess a violent heart, and was pleased to see conflicts ended with a minimum of bloodshed.”

It was entirely possible Laurent was withholding anything but praise for the Other Damen out of a hope that compliments would earn him the veneer of trustworthiness. Still, Damen couldn’t bring himself to think that his counterpart could have been a greedy miser or a murderous tyrant. The Akielon honor guard would never have treated him with respect if he had, let alone the unanimous support Other Damen seemed to have garnered from the kyroi.

“Who was he when he wasn’t king?” Damen asked, hoping to keep from demanding too much too quickly, else his best source of information might shut down and wave him off entirely.

Laurent broke their held gazes, turning instead to his hands clasped in his lap. “He disliked confinement,” he said after a moment’s pause. “If there was nothing to hold him from it, he would be out riding or hunting, or participating in some manner of sport.”

That, at least, sounded familiar. He didn’t even realize he’d let a smile creep onto his face until a glance at it seemed to strengthen his plea in Laurent’s mind.

“He gave endless amounts of advice, whether it was called for or not. He made no mystery of his opinions, and stood by them with a conviction I’ve yet to see matched by any other man.”

“He sounds incredibly stubborn,” Damen offered.

“I’ve met rocks with less commitment to holding their ground.”

He chuckled aloud at that, imagining the Other Damen and Laurent debating into the night because neither believed in surrendering his point. The sound of his voice seemed to startle Laurent, earning him another of those looks that carried within it a strange jumble of approval, mixed heavily with sorrow.

“What brought the two of you together?” he asked, tentatively and hoping his intrusion might be buoyed forward on good humor. “It seems a strange coupling, given how different you both are.”

“A shared goal,” Laurent answered simply. “He wanted his country back, I wanted mine. His brother stood in his way, my uncle stood in mine. Any course other than working together would have been ill-advised, suicidal at worst.”

“Did you get along with him then?”

“Of course not,” Laurent practically snorted, though such a crude verb could hardly be applied to the delicacy of his every action. “He found me insufferable and I found him defiant and uncultured. Had he not proven his usefulness to me I’d have had him executed on the flimsiest of premises.”

He’d heard the gist of the story, but to have it confirmed so flippantly put an uncomfortable weight in his stomach that he couldn’t quite get rid of.

Of course, Laurent would have noticed even if it hadn’t shown on his face. The observation seemed to sober the other man somewhat from the light tone he’d used moments before. “I treated him poorly,” he admitted in what could almost be described as a small voice. “He didn’t deserve the punishments I inflicted upon him in my misplaced anger. He proved his unwavering loyalty time and again, and I couldn’t have asked for a more honorable companion.”

“You cared for him very much,” Damen observed, dropping the pretense of phrasing it as a question.

Laurent sighed, his gaze rooted firmly to the floor. “I did.”

In that moment, he could begin to conceptualize the sheer weight of loss that had to be hanging from the Veretian king’s shoulders. The Damianos he spoke of was everything Laurent himself was not. Together they’d tackled situations neither of them could have survived on their own, and had deposed two usurpers to rule two kingdoms’ worth of people through their combined efforts and complementary strengths. To lose that person, with whom he had built so much and weathered so many storms…

“I’m sorry,” he said weakly, though the words seemed to inadequate to fill the silence that had opened between them like some great, gaping chasm.

~~~~~i’m sorry~~~~~~

#THIS WAS FUCKING AMAZING AND IS BREAKING ME APART AND I NEED MORE OH MY GODDDDD #submission #captive prince #amnesia fic

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