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#red queen fanfiction
imperatrice21 · 4 months
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You know, I think it would be pretty interesting if in War Storm they actually did find a Newblood to cure Maven but when he gets cured and back to normal he doesn't remember a single thing he did while under Elara's control because it wasn't him at all and he's like super confused or something when they tell him how long its been and something something idk
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lucy-the-cat · 21 days
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Mareven Boyfriend Excerpt
Tagging @ball-of-butter bc she said she was excited for it
“Maven.”  Elara’s face brightened.  “You sound lovely.”
A girl popped out from behind the door, soft and serene.  I can’t help but wonder if she’s seen my pictures.  If her heart raced as mine in the dim moonlight.
She cocked her head.  “Really.”  Her smile was shy, a lullaby.  “I could be better, you know.”
“Nonsense.”  Elara waved a hand.  “You’re perfect, darling.”
Cal took his sister’s hands with a sad smile.  “You’re too hard on yourself.”
I can’t disagree.  I’ve never been good at smiling, but I’m sure a stanger’s word is worth as much as any other’s.  “You’re quite talented.”
Her eyes met mine for the first time, hand brushing a curl behind her ear.  “Thanks.”
Cal gripped my shoulder, jolting me to attention.  “Maven, this is Mare.”  The words were soft, measured.  “My girlfriend.”
Her eyes darkened, so brief I might’ve imagined it.  She extended a hand.  “Charmed.”
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nyrasbloodyclover · 4 months
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when the lights go down (maven calore x reader)
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cw: nightmares, hurt/comfort
a/n: this is my first ever fanfiction i think, originally posted on ao3
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I got up, gasping for air, not being able to see clearly. The room spun in front of my eyes making me sick to the stomach. I desperatly needed to puke.
I was almost used to it by now. Waking up in sweat with fear that just behing my closed bedroom doors death is waiting. That's what years of terror did to a person. War was cruel and had no mercy towards anyone.
I brought shaky hands to my wet face- from sweat but now burning tears slid down my cheeks as i let out quiet sobs. It was so stupid but understandable at the same time. In front of my eyes—it was so real i couldn't breathe sometimes— i was losing everyone i loved all over again. Everyone i cared about on the verge of death. I saw him, barely breathing, silver blood sliding down his neck—dying—and i just stood there, not being able to do anything.
I had never even admitted that to him- my feelings or the nightmares because i knew his mother took all of it from him. He wouldn't understand so it was all pointless.
The memory, not real, and it will never be real, i swore to myself, made my chest hurt, i started sobbing even harder this time.
And it was desperation or need for comfort that made me get out of that haunted place i called my bedroom and walk out the door.
The marble floors were cold underneath my bare feet as i walked slowly still with tears in my eyes.
The palace was huge and anyone could get lost in it, even me, but there was one path i always knew- towards him. Maven's chambers stood out to the rest of the palace, at least to me. Anytime i was with him i felt as if no one could hurt me. Like i was safe from the rest of the world. In his head we probably weren't that close, but i could comfort myself by pretending.
I was still convinced this was one big mistake, but now that i found myself in front of big doors that led to his private rooms, i couldn't go back. Maybe he will toss me out, laugh at how weak i am, after all we lived through the same experience.
I didn't care. All i wanted is to at least see his face or hear his voice, no matter what he was saying to me. So i knocked once and secretly prayed that he wouldn't hear me. If he doesn't open i will have to suffer alone for the rest of the night, afraid to close my eyes. It was familiar to me that my sleep was cursed by nightmares. It would be easier than to appear weak in his eyes.
But no one heard my prayers as he opened the large woden doors. I tried to wipe my tears as much as i could.
His eyes were still half closed, soft white shirt crinkled from sleep and hair rustled. He didn't seem very happy that someone woke him up. He looked so unfamiliar to me in that moment because i was so used to his organized-put together self. If i hadn't been so miserable i would even laugh.
At the sight of me it was like someone had sobered him up.
"What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't sleep." My voice was weak. It was the longest explanation i could give him.
After studying m for a moment Maven crooked his head, "Are you okay?" He spoke gently, like i was some wounded animal that needed his saving. And in some way, i really was.The look on his face made me know that he was aware of my cursed dreams
That was it, i thought, my breaking point. Something really cracked in my chest as i practically threw myself at him.
He was caught off guard he froze for a moment. I didn't care if he's going to mock me for the rest of my excistance for this, i needed it, needed him.
Few seconds passed and he relaxed a bit wrapping his slender but strong arms around me. Then i started sobbing into his chest.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He whispered into my hair, "What happened?"
He closed the door behind me and guided me to the edge of his bed. I sat down and he kneeled beside me, looking up with his blue eyes, searching for the answer.
"I watched you die," my voice cracked mid-sentance making it sound even more painful. And when he realized what i said his eyes grew wide. I wasn't sure what was going through his head now, but i still continued, "I watched you die, and i wasn't able to do anything—"
Now was my time to feel caught off guard as he took me into his arms. I never saw Maven hug another human being, but he should do it more often because now, he held me so i don't break.
"I am alive," his hand brushed the back of my head, "I am alive because of you, don't ever doubt that." His words made me sob harder into his chest.
His scent consumed me as i closed my eyes against him.
Maven never broke the hug and we sat there, in the dark of his room, until i parted us and looked at his beautiful, beautiful face.  
"I hate nightmares," i said after minutes of silence. "Sometimes, i wish your mother took them from me too."
He frowned at that, still holding my hands, "She took my nightmares, yes, but with them she robbed me of my ability to love, to care."
His fingers traced invisible patterns on the back of my hand. He wasn't looking at me. "Sometimes, you make me forget that." And i felt as if my heart was beating again.
I didn't know what to do after that. Did i get the comfort i wanted? I wasn't sure, but his words did make me feel better, so i got up and started walking towards the door. I hope our relationship wouldn't change much after tonight. I knew i would feel stupid and even more miserable in the morning but i guess it was worth it.
Then suddenly i felt the burning hand around my wrist, "Why are you leaving?"
Did he want me to stay? "Well, i tho—"
"You thought wrong. Come here," he said as he pulled me closer to him, and under the red covers. 
I layed my head on the burner prince's chest that rose and fell with each of his breaths. The proof that he was alive. Alive and well and beside me.
After a while, when the lights completely went down, i wasn't sure if i was asleep yet but i heard him whisper, "I will take your nightmares if it means you'll sleep peacefully."
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elane-in-the-shadows · 3 months
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February 2nd - Happy Birthday, Shade Barrow!!
A/N 1: The deeper I thought about writing more Imagine Shade Was Still Alive stories, I realized I had to confront a certain aspect that soon revolved a specific image (guess which). This alternate concept takes place roundabout the King’s Cage chapters 16/17 (stress on alternate – I picked a date here but I can only assume when exactly it was in KC so the changes make it happen right then 😉).
Now in full length here on tumblr!!
Find this on Wattpad
Hidden Intentions
This door posed no resistance. Voices drifted through and became louder as Shade jumped inside, cleaving to the corner of the room as he counted three persons sitting on a bed crammed into an office. “… You’re sure this works? It’s not too demanding?” “It was your idea to ask, I just saw to it!” A helpless laugh escaped her throat and Shade startled as he recognized his sister. Before her brown eyes found him, the third touched her hand, winning her attention. “I’ve checked the supplies myself, we can do it,” the third, Cameron, agreed. She smiled at his sister who, despite smiling back, looked up just enough to notice him. Their gazes locked, freezing them both yet likely for very different reasons.
Shade sank into her eyes, wanted to. To see her safe, to see her at all, and, for the fragment of a heartbeat, to imagine Gisa’s eyes, so similar, were those of Mare who had been a hostage for three months now. “What are you doing here …?” Gisa whispered and truth be told, he could’ve asked her the same. But no one replied as Gisa started to giggle like a fool, a habit that felt so awfully normal like home that it hurt. Everyone was blushing as his entry became obvious to the other two, also the first speaker, who finally turned her head over her shoulder, not the least bit surprised to see him. “That’s inaccurate,” Diana said. “The real question is, what took him so long?” She smirked at him yet despite her amused tone, worry showed in her frown that Gisa and Cameron couldn’t see from this angle. An angle, he couldn’t help noticing, becoming her marvellously with the way her chin-long curls framed her cheek. No, he wasn’t beyond being left speechless by her beauty when she glowed like this. He had no idea how long the awkward silence lasted until he snapped out of it and stepped over, resting his hand on Diana’s shoulder before she rose and went to him. After quickly exchanging glances, strangely nervous, Cameron and Gisa jumped up, shoving together the papers on the bed. Diana slammed shut the folder and Gisa hugged him. “I’m glad to see you”, he told her quietly although he still didn’t know what she did here in the Rocasta base, so near to military operations. “So am I,” Gisa replied, released him and left, taking Cameron by the hand. “What was going on here?” he asked as he dropped behind Diana on the bed, unstrapping his boots. “Classified information,” she answered but he heard – she couldn’t hide it from her tone, he knew her well enough now – that she wasn’t all business. He snorted, done with the shoes, and inched closer until their legs met and his chest was to her back. She sighed, but his digging she must’ve expected didn’t come. Indeed, he didn’t care, not right now. What he wanted was just this, leaning on her, his face on her neck breathing in her scent. His arms embraced her from behind, hands resting on her six-months-belly. An instance of grounding, only strengthened by the tiniest flutter he could feel of their baby. He longed to forget his shame by holding his world in his arms. This part at least. Diana weaved his fingers with his, her posture shifting ever so slightly until he couldn’t say who leaned on who. “I really wondered what took you so long, you were expected back half a day earlier,” she said eventually. He hmphed. “Not unusually late.” “You’re so quiet.” “Classified information,” he murmured. She stirred while he hugged her closer. “Maybe better this way,” she said. She must be rolling her eyes. “That I don’t give you orders anymore.” But her pulse was quickening against his cheek. He’d been sent on missions she wasn’t responsible for, true, and it left her scared for him despite everything. He understood that well enough, his own worry for her currently quelled knowing she held back due to her pregnancy. Still, her reaction flustered him when, ironically, she was wrong in this specific case. “You needn’t have worried, Dee,” he said, and she released a relieved breath, likely thinking of a relatively harmless operation. Well, it had been, and he yearned to leave it at that, to stay a few minutes longer in this intimate cocoon. He doubted he had the right to make a wish right now, when he’d already chosen safety. Just one more second, one kiss on the bare part of her shoulder, and he broke the embrace, sinking on the floor to his knees to face her. He met her eyes, then lowered his gaze, gathering himself once more. His fingers playing with a loose curl of hers. Looking up, he confessed. “I strayed from orders.” She raised her eyebrows. “Now that’s nothing new but it doesn’t sound – ” “Safe? It was completely, utterly reckless. I could only hope not to be too stupid. “Because I aimed to free Mare.”
The Scarlet Guard used Shade as backup for escapes sparingly, regarding the limits to people he could bring with him. When he wasn’t assisting in the taking of Corvium, his new handler Blake sent him on reconnaissance missions. Shade kept waiting for assassination orders though they never came – so far. Due to his ability, it tended to be spotty work, often including theft and sabotage rather than infiltration. Between jobs, that left him chances to see Diana who planned altogether different operations. Growing enmeshed with Command as she was, who knew how far she was aware how he was tied into the greater picture. Unlike during their first cooperations, Diana appeared fine with it now, him under another’s orders. He felt less so and as Blake had Shade follow the front movements and searching Corvium for weak spots, he’d been itching to approach the royal progress. It happened that he was to visit the same locations – afterwards, to listen for whispers of treason against King Maven. Bitterness filled Shade as he was close but carefully kept away from Mare, who was always on the screens beside her captor. Shade had believed it reasonable. He’d seen the brutal results of Nanny’s infiltration. He’d stayed behind during the failed pro-Cal coup. But while the banished prince was reined in, he’d helped the Guard win Corvium, cheered with them as Cameron’s brother Morrey was freed even as everyone chewed at still seeing Mare as the king’s trophy and mouthpiece. When he received the orders three days ago, Shade had had enough of waiting and playing safe. He had this ability that had proved so useful, had saved his loved ones’ lives so many times, he had a duty to Mare to at least try. Would she not expect him to try? He would grind his teeth no longer and enter the royal party. The opportunity sounded almost a ploy, find out who the king was meeting at the Choke, implying that Shade would evade Maven and come from the other side. This time, he picked the confrontation.
“I’ve learned to master standing around silver residences without notice. Even before I stole a sentinel uniform, no one took issue with me. It was almost too easy, eavesdropping for the official mission in the meantime. I only had to teleport when no one would wonder at sudden appear – or disappearances. Everyone knew where the royal party was staying, and this residence had little difference to others, and they love to gossip about Mare. It hurt to hear, but I needn’t care when I’d succeed, right?
“Security increased the closer I got but I still came through in the disguise. And then I knew. I didn’t see the door, I felt it. The wall of silence beyond the door.
“I was hit by it just by starting to teleport. I never … It happens in a blink, usually. There, I noted how every bit of me would materialize and I wasn’t sure if I’d be just slow or appear in bits. What I knew was that it was impossible to bring Mare with me. She’s shackled in silent stone! No idea how they manage it. How she endures. I …” But he had no words for the thought. It expressed itself as a sob he tried to swallow.
Diana never let go of his hand as he told her – his dominant left clasped by both of hers. It didn’t help either of them to keep from shaking.
“I just stopped. Stood there, about to get caught after all, calculating if there wasn’t a way, any way.” He shook his head.
Diana’s hold grew tighter. “You were alone. You couldn’t have expected …”
Shade faced her and she must’ve grasped his meaning in his eyes as she startled. She still didn’t let go, like a buoy. He straightened. “So I left. Ran away. Jumped out of their base and barely hid my disguise on my way back here.”
She shifted closer, face inches above his. “It’s as you should’ve done. Shade. The only thing you could.” She swallowed. “You gathered intel and retreated before you were trapped and arrested. To know how Mare is kept –”
He pulled his hand away. “Don’t talk about this like such an officer.” She blinked. “I know that. I’ve tried to explain it to myself the whole last day. And I haven’t felt a drop less guilty for it.”
“You …” Diana moved to hug him and he prevented her by cupping her cheeks.
This moment, he needed his gaze to hold on to her eyes. “I didn’t think practical,” he whispered. “I went, selfishly, out of desire, and ended it for it as well. It was pure need to survive. For you. I couldn’t bear the risk of not coming back to you, leaving our child behind. Not even for Mare.”
Diana slid off the bed, hugging him as she sank to sit on his knees. A sob escaped his throat.
“There was no chance,” she reminded him.
He closed his eyes, resting his head in her chest. “You said you wouldn’t pick – us or the cause. You say you’ll do both, both is important. With only one absolute – keep our baby alive. But I did. Choose. I picked us over Mare.” Tears wetted her sweater. “It’s my shame and yet I don’t regret it.”
Her hands rubbed his back, through his hair. “We’ll do better. I promise you, we’ll do better and free her.”
Her words were a lifeline, a tether that did little to diminish the raging waves of his heartbeat. “You hate promises,” he said.
Diana snorted faintly. “I’ve kept working on it.” She kissed his temple. “You don’t know all progress we make. Mare is fighting, and we’ll come from the other front.”
He woke to the smell of coffee. Its vitalizing odour filled his nose, steam warming his face as he opened his eyes.
Diana smiled at him, already unfairly groomed. She stroked his arm. “A drink to get you up, but breakfast waits in the mess hall.” The corners of her mouth dropped. “Did you even eat last evening?”
Shade struggled to find his limbs to rose and sip the coffee. They’d stayed cuddled last night, barely managing to undress before he fell asleep. He shook his head, exhaustion clinging to every part of his body, eyes sore from crying. Tentatively, he tested the first swallows of the brew. “I had a bite. When I was debriefed.”
Diana patted his leg. “You still had something to report?”
“Enough. The ones around ... well, they know enough.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What?”
He downed the rest of the mug. “I thought we professionals keep quiet?” He made light of it but no grin entered his face. “What’s the plan for today?”
She sat down next to him and put an arm around his waist, looking at him inquiringly. “Work out. A meeting. Supply chain check, finances, the usual. But fresh up first, then breakfast.”
They held hands on the way to the mess hall and after a shower, Shade felt almost alive. Yet he was glad of Diana’s pampering and idle conversation.
“Gisa has applied to the guard a while ago, with your brothers,” she explained when he asked. “Only the support we task minors with and … it was chance she was called to Rocasta while we are here, too. Yes.”
“Hm. I don’t like it still. Can’t you make an exception and put in a word about what she does?”
Diana drew in a breath.
He sighed. “Okay, okay, spare me the lecture.”
“A bit protective, are we?”
He squeezed her hand, glancing at her. “Increasingly.”
She bumped his shoulder. “She gets along with Cameron really well. They met before we’ve freed Cameron’s brother and they feel similarly, apparently. Being the same age and with a sibling as hostage.”
“Just ‘feeling similarly’?” he teased.
She grinned. Maybe more than that.”
“I really didn’t notice.” He shook his head. “I overlooked her, with all other things.”
“We have a lot to shoulder.” Having reached the mess hall, she turned to him. Her other hand splayed on her belly, the first time since he returned. She must’ve refrained to absent-minded touches until now, to focus on him. That was hard for her, he knew. She already loved the baby so much, the mere anticipation shaped her into a new, lighter-hearted person, a hidden aspect of her he hadn’t been aware of.
Himself, he wasn’t so sure. Her excitement carried him along, his love for her had him follow her everywhere. The thought of letting her down pained him. He didn’t know what to expect while he also couldn’t wait to meet their child and he felt an undeniable duty to them, yet the shape of this duty remained beyond his grasp.
“Don’t you want to go in?” he said, glancing to the mess hall.
Again, she looked at him in this strange way of this morning and sighed. “Are you ... ready for the world?”
He cackled, clasping the door handle. “What else is there?” He stepped over the threshold, even as Diana stood still for an eyeblink.
“Wait –”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHADE!!”
He stumbled at the loud cheer, his hand going to his heart in exasperation. He almost fell against Diana who’d sidled close again. Gladly, he leaned against her as he calmed himself, assessing the congregation.
The party.
Everyone was there, or so it seemed at least. Gisa, Cameron and her brother Morrey, his brothers – even his parents! People he knew from the Notch and other comrades he’d recently worked with. Some weren’t there, of course, like Kilorn and Cal, but he saw Sara and Julian and even Diana’s father, skulking around … that dick. Maybe Diana was gracious he tried but Shade couldn’t stand the way the colonel was so clearly uncomfortable behaving like, well, family, and Shade hated how that had hurt Diana over the years and she didn’t dare addressing that openly.
Diana clutched his arm, whispering into his ear. “I’m sorry, I decided to tell you just a moment too late …” He nodded, helplessly. “I thought you were aware, of the date, and just didn’t make a big thing of it …”
His disbelieving gaze wandered from the assembly to the filled tables, back to Diana.
“I …” Indeed, he had been aware of his birthday on February 2nd, not expecting anything of it. He wasn’t certain Diana would remember the timing or prepare anything, regarding the one or two times they’d mentioned birthdays … but it was him who’d forgotten about what day it was entirely the moment he’d stood before Mare’s gilded prison door and panicked.
He was relieved Cal wasn’t there, right now. To look at him, after what Shade and attempted and failed at, knowing that Cal wanted the same – he needed time to process that.
Shade straightened, borrowing posture from the steel in Diana’s eyes. Then he cupped her face and kissed her, hard.
The others clapped.
Letting go, swallowing a laugh caused by the silly clapping, he cleared his throat and spread his arms, doing his best of playing the role of the stunned and grateful birthday kid.
Glossing over them staring at him expectantly for likely minutes now. “What have you bleeding done here!” he exclaimed. “Thank you so much!” Already, they rushed to hug or shake hands to congratulate him and he swam into the flood. It was easy to do, go with the flow to drown the shame he’d arrived in. Shade excelled at pretending and blending in and today, they deserved a happy reaction. And he wanted to, to enjoy friends, family, and comrades. They had gathered here, bringing and preparing all that wonderful food he just about realized he was starving for.
The mess hall looked like a silver bakery in Harbor Bay, tables laden various warm breads, all different shapes, sizes and toppings, a spread of meat and cheese slices, eggs, cakes and puddings. The first bite of dark bread with grated carrots, still soft, fresh from the oven, warmed his entire self. The guests recommended snacks and he followed the advice gladly. Cakes fluffy like clouds, excitingly crunchy or tasteful compounds of nuts and fruits, he took every bite as he fell into the chatter and remembered they’d all come despite knowing Mare wasn’t there.
Could they not celebrate despite her captivity?
Could Shade deny them this?
His father, the last one he’d expected to meet here, told him how Sara was looking at replacing his leg and improving his lungs and Shade didn’t want to stop embracing him as his father commented on the frontlines.
Bree teased him that he’d barely escaped becoming a teen dad, now that he was twenty, and Tramy embellished an adventure about procuring the food and preventing a disaster when making the cakes with Gisa, Cameron and Morrey. It sounded so similar to chaotic past birthdays, at home, in the Stilts, where one midnight after the party, Shade asked Kilorn to practise kissing as a present and Kilorn complied.
Julian tapped his shoulder and offered him fried apple rings in dough, and, self-deprecating as Julian could be, confessed he put in extra efforts because it was his birthday, too, and they shared hilarious mirrored congratulations.
The colonel told him his first name was Willis and Shade made himself say it.
The talking and feasting went on until his mouth strained and, looking for his mother, he finally found Diana again, sitting next to her. His mother, smiling like the sun, hugged him tight and yet it was she alone who openly bore that heavy sadness in her eyes that Shade was only hiding. He didn’t have to pretend with her. Yet she also understood the meaning of celebrating right now.
In the end, as the congregation shushed them away to clean up, Diana rose and cupped his cheek. “Do you forgive me?” she asked.
He blinked. “Didn’t I show you?” he countered, and kissed her again, softer but longer. Their brows rested against each other. Both of them the same height – with Diana slightly taller –, it felt so clear how equally matched they were and with the arms around each other, they started to sway as if there were music to dance to.
“The next time – ,” he began, “ – when is your birthday again?”
Diana groaned, chewing her lip. “In May … you know, the due date …”
He grinned. “You’re still embarrassed about that?”
She gasped, slapping his chest. “You remembered all along!”
He grabbed that hand that bumped him, rising it to his lips to kiss. “No one knows if it’ll be the same day for real, calm down.” His smile faded. “But I want one thing to be certain.” She found his eyes, questioningly. “To have Mare at the next party.”
“She will be,” Diana confirmed once more but apparently less convinced than last night.
Shade nodded, his gaze striving away. Maybe they didn’t need assurance, and hope had to be enough.
After today, he thought he could start with that.
A/N 2: CAMISA SHOULD’VE HAPPENED
For a long time, I was a bit uninspired for Shade’s birthday post this year until I had an idea this Sunday morning. It’s weird, it feels like I teleported into Fadeland since I have created this in five days after I spent almost eight joyful months in Fadeland last time, happily procrastinating! ^^° I will continue the Shade/Farley birthday posts at least until next year for the 10 year Red Queen jubilee.
However, I have to apologize:
For excluding Cal, I’m so sorry for those who hoped for him but just considering to include him in the party is so awkward. Having Shade look into his Cal’s puppy eyes wishing his brother(-in-law) happy birthday while he must be thinking about how everyone chided Cal for impulsively making Mare a priority in risky operations with Shade then doing the same to utterly fail and be comforted by his very present pregnant girlfriend – the party would’ve crashed right then (or Shade would’ve filled his mouth with food and just replied with a “hm, thanks”). But Shade will confess this to him later on and they’ll have a deep bonding talk about Mare and love and siblings!
For the off-handed mention of Shade kissing Kilorn – I’ve considered both Farley and Shade as bi for years but never grasped the chance to state this for Shade (maybe in my Calorn AU, a little) and thought today, now or never, even though it became just a tiny bit. I hope to do better in future, should not another writing block or technical problem happen.
My inner bread snob jumped out, sorry not sorry. I thought about how often characters – usually girls – can describe delicious food in books only to not eat it in the end and while it’s a man here, I wanted to say fuck that, go binge
They’re so angstily dramatic
I hope you enjoyed, and once again:
CAMISA SHOULD’VE HAPPENED
@elliemarchetti @lilyharvord @mareshmallow @maudthebookeater @justagirlwholovesstories @freaky-freiday @evangeline-of-montfort @hannaharies @nortaeventcouncil
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yunabi436 · 4 months
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To stand infront of a person who is your whole world and to be told you are not enough. You are not a choice. You are a shadow to the person who your a sun .
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auroraaeri · 3 months
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1. Crown
Steel Heart
Summary: Lada participates in Queenstrial, despite her lack of interest. However, she does meet someone interesting after the fact.
Notes: ugh, first chapter. I do not enjoy this or many of the other starting chapters very much, but I am sticking to my decision of no editing! Read chapter one of Steel Heart under the cut.
Lada has no intention of winning the crown, but she participates in Queenstrail nonetheless. If only to impress her parents. Not to mention, the princes were not the only eligible bachelors in the crowd. Lada’s eyes scan the crowd, looking for a future husband or perhaps a future lover to hide away. Her eyes barely lingered on whatever girl was showing off in the arena, never even glancing at the princes many girls seemed to be hopelessly in love with.
Lada had come to terms with the fact that she was never going to win Queenstrial. Her and her sister had determined that the winner would be Evangeline Samos. House Samos was noticeably favored by the royal family. Lada’s house was unfortunately not a fan favorite, which did lessen the anxiety surrounding her Queenstrial performance.
Lada’s eyes eventually found Princes Cal and Maven, but they didn't stay long. It was her turn to show off to everyone in the crowd.
Lada was stuck in a small waiting room with the other Queenstrial girls, watching the small screen on the opposite side of the room carefully. Evangeline was up, and Lada was ready to see how she was going to annoy her today. She watches the arena shift around the silver haired girl, making Lada very glad she wasn’t in there.
However Lada’s mood changes when she notices a red mass heading straight for the electric shield. A few younger girls in the room averted their eyes, but she kept watching, ready to see how the royals would cover this up. To her surprise the camera focused in on the red girl hurling straight to her doom. Lada bites her lip, extremely confused on why they would focus on this event. Her question is answered when the red girl doesn't fry on contact, instead surviving the shield.
The girl stood in front of Evangeline, the electrical shield having seemingly dissipated. Evangeline hurls metal at the distraction but as the red girl puts up her hands, sparks melted the metal in front of her, and the cameras cut out. Lada stays silent, watching the black screen in hopes of it coming back on again. She watches for as long as possible, until she is escorted out by sentinels.
“What do you think happened, I mean, with that red girl?” Miya askes Lada. The two were together in Lada’s room, sitting on her bed as they talk. “I wouldn't be surprised if she was never seen again, I just wonder how they are going to explain it away,” Lada shrugs, braiding a few strands of her hair absentmindedly.
“Well besides that,” Miya sighs dramatically as a way to switch topics, “did anybody in the crowd catch your eye? I know there were a few staring at you.” “Nobody really stood out,” Lada says, her eyes wandering from the hair between her fingers to her sister. “If I'm being completely honest, I'm not looking for anyone right now.”
“Why? You do realize you can get married and still have a life?” Miya says, staring at Lada with the look of a slightly disappointed mother. “Depends on the guy,” Lada shrugs again, undoing her braid if it means avoiding eye contact.
“There's still hope you can marry Cal, don't you like him? I'm sure he would let you go off and fight with him.” Miya suggests Lada quickly dismiss the idea with a laugh, “Are you kidding me, I have no chance. Evangeline has the royals wrapped around her finger, I'm sure she's their first choice,” Lada leans backwards, falling into her bed. “We'll find out tomorrow night what your fate is,” Miya says before leaving. Lada sighs as she closes her eyes, quickly embracing sleep.
Lada sits calmly with her family, talking idly while sipping on whatever alcohol was placed in front of her. Tonight she wears a dress covered in violet silk and shimmering gemstones. Her dress shimmers every time she moves, making pride swell up inside of her. Or perhaps that was just an effect of the alcohol.
Lada stops talking with her sister when the King starts speaking. Her eyes travel across the crowd to look at the King, but she catches something far more interesting. Ptolemus Samos is staring right at her. When their eyes met his eyes quickly moved to the King, and Lada scoffed to herself. She turned her attention to the King, who was someone of far more substance.
Lada doesn't stay focused for long however, quickly racking her mind for anything she could remember about Ptolemus Samos. She vaguely remembers a sparring match the two had a few years ago, but other than that the two had barely interacted. She certainly didn't have enough interaction to warrant his weird staring problem. She brushes it off as she focuses back on the King.
As Lada and Miya had expected, Evangeline Samos was going to marry Cal. However, what Lada and Miya had not expected was that the Red girl who had fallen into the electric shield was going to marry Maven. The Red girl was apparently Mareena Titanos, long lost daughter of deceased General Ethan Titanos.
Lada celebrated the newfound engagements with everyone else before going back to her food and drinks. Before she could calmly resume drinking the night away, her eyes met with Ptolemus Samos. His staring seemed to be a reoccurring problem. She allows a smirk to envelop her face before winking at him. She watches as he downs his drink before both of them return to their families.
Lada was attending a sort of after party. Her and plenty of other members of the High Houses were there, enjoying drinks and conversation as they continued to celebrate the winners of Queenstrail. Not like the winners were even there, the two girls having left with the royals a long time ago.
Lada had taken to chatting and dancing with many of the High House members, lords and ladies alike. But one person always seemed to catch her eye. Ptolemus Samos, the man who was staring at her earlier, was also there. He hadn’t looked at her since she caught him, she figured he was embarrassed and was avoiding her. However Lada didn’t take kindly to being ignored. She took another sip of her drink to give her some sort of boosted confidence and slowly began walking over to the man, who sat by himself at his family’s table. He had been abandoned throughout the night, the rest of his family leaving one by one except for a few cousins who were strewn about the hall.
Ptolemus seemed startled when Lada sat down next to him. She quickly sets her drink in front of her before turning to face him, holding her head in her hand. She let all notion of etiquette fall away as whatever she was drinking took over.
“Well hello there Samos-Ptolemus is it? Seems you and I have a lot to catch up on given your newfound staring problems,” Lada laughs dryly, noting Ptolemus effortlessly proving her point as he stares at her. Not that she could blame him. She had changed into a tighter evening gown, a more matured and shapely silhouette than what she had earlier. The dark purple easily complements her dark hair and pale blue eyes. The deep v in the neckline doing its job at drawing people's attention.
Ptolemus swallowed slowly and tore his eyes upwards to meet Lada’s. “I do apologize for my earlier behavior. I hope you can forgive me,” He stretches his hand towards hers, and Lada notices his smile widen as she places her hand in his. He places a gentle kiss on her hand before releasing it, and Lada curses herself as heat travels up her neck. She blames it on the alcohol.
“Well I suppose I could put it behind me,” Lada says quietly as she takes another sip, leaning in closer to test the waters. “But I must ask, what was it that you were staring at?” She notices Ptolemus almost shrink back into his seat. For all of the rumors about him, she did not expect him to be so taken aback by a little teasing.
“Well I’m sure you know the rumors of your beauty, I was simply seeing if they were true,” Ptolemus says quickly, sitting straighter in his seat. Lada watches him carefully, he seemed proud of covering himself so quickly, but she wasn’t done with him yet. “And are they?” She turns her eyes away from him and to the glass in front of her, quickly taking another sip, this time a larger one. He took a bit longer to respond this time, possibly thinking over how to say it poetically instead of like a school child.
“I cannot deny the rumors, but I was more enamored by your ability in the arena,” Ptolemus says, a false smirk covering his face. “Oh.. that,” Lada replies dryly, her face falling. “I mean it’s not every day you see someone as beautiful as you who is also a talented fighter.” He took a drink from his own glass, seemingly joining in the same method Lada had taken to. A little bit of alcohol to loosen up the stress.
Lada turns back to Ptolemus, setting her glass back down. “It’s just ages of training, nothing really amazing about that,” She laughs, resting her head on her hand again. “Not everyone can do what you do there, no matter how much training they have. It’s an admirable trait,” He smiles back at her, and Lada can't help but smile as well.
“I suppose you’re right,” Lada leans back into her chair. The conversation became oddly quiet, Lada watching as Ptolemus considered speaking again. Eventually Lada downs the rest of her drink and leans into him.
“Let’s dance.” Lada had been thinking over her choice for the last minute or so before deciding to let her confidence do the talking. She extends a hand to Ptolemus, but to her surprise he stands up, taking her with him. The song playing was slow, perfect for some imperfect slightly drunk waltzing. Ptolemus guides her into position, which Lada was glad for since she couldn’t muster up the brain power to do it herself.
Ptolemus leads her around to the beat of the music, allowing her some much deserved time to look him over, staring as he had done to her earlier. His silver hair almost long enough to reach his shoulders, which was something Lada was most definitely a fan of. He was just slightly taller than her, and she could feel the defined muscle under his clothes. Her eyes eventually made their way up to his dark gray ones again, and at that moment he flashed her a smirk which caused a silver flush to quickly envelop her cheeks.
Ptolemus and Lada danced together for a while, before Lada’s sister whisked her away. When the two were back at their palace apartment Miya immediately started asking questions. “So who was the handsome guy you were dancing with?” Miya follows Lada into her bedroom. “Ptolemus Samos, he’s been staring at me all day so I went over and talked to him. Then we danced for a while and that’s it,” Lada says, seemingly uninterested. Even though she was far more interested than she was letting on to her sister.
“That’s it? You danced with a very handsome man and that's it?” Miya huffs, clearly looking for something far more substantial. “Do you have a problem with that?” Lada smiles innocently, silently celebrating when her sister left the room. She collapses onto her bed, hoping that maybe Ptolemus and his rampant staring problem would visit her in her dreams.
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drawredasdawn · 2 years
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   Just when Maven Calore thought his life couldn't get any worse, it did.
   Captured once again, Maven's dragged away to a far away kingdom with the purpose of becoming a pet, but not just anyone's pet. The newly crowned king requires a very specific companion, and Maven meets all of the qualifications.
   With the rest of the world out for his head, Maven only has two choices: Escape these chains and run back into the lands that want him dead, or break under the king's rule.
   Maven knows his answer. There's no way he's breaking anymore.
-King’s Pet, Summary   By @miss-literary​ , MissDeMeanor (MissLiterary) on AO3
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nymphenberger · 1 year
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Look at this insanely amazing fanart I received ! Daliah looks pretty fierce.
You can find the artist on :
https://www.instagram.com/moonlightdust.m/
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To think I have seen it all...
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Note: Thank you @jombleboingus for giving me permission to make this meme.
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aks3raao1 · 7 months
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So like- I found this in my drafts and actually started sobbing for Evangeline as I was reading. It starts off rlly crappy but it gets better, I promise-
It's unfinished tho. I don't really plan on finishing it but I'd like to come back to it some day. I don't ever get to the Mare apart; it's literally just Evangeline and Elaine breaking up-
Red Queen AU where Elaine and Evangeline break up and Evangeline runs to Mare because I said so. Also this takes place while there's still a war going on but for plot purposes, Elaine is in Montfort
It was breakfast time in Montfort, though the banquet table was empty. Except for the two lovers, Evangeline and Elaine. Elaine picked at her food as if she was deep in thought, occasionally throwing wary glances towards Evangeline every so often. Evangeline pretended not to notice, but the unnatural light that Elaine manipulated to cast her eyes in shadow was too hard to miss.
"Are you okay?" she asked with genuine care in her tone.
Elaine sighed and gently pushed her plate away, looking up at Evangeline with serious eyes. "Evangeline...my love... There is something we need to discuss."
Evangeline raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow in curiosity. Elaine made it sound as if this talk was urgent. Whatever it was, she wanted to know before it gave her anxiety for the rest of the day.
"Let's discuss it now. What is it?"
Evangeline internally gulped as her mind caught up with the mood. It was something bad for sure.
Evangeline and Elaine have been having problems ever since the war started, and ever since the world seemed to try to separate them more and more. Elaine got tired of it and wanted out, constantly trying to persuade Evangeline to run away with her, when Evangeline barely knew what she really wanted and how she wanted to obtain it.
Talks would turn into screams, anger turned into tears. As much as Evangeline loved Elaine, she never wanted to confide her deepest fears in her. She didn't want to burden the person she loved so dearly, and so she stayed quiet when Elaine would lecture her.
This only put a strain on their relationship, winding the chord tighter and tighter until it was fit for strangling even the best of warriors. The air would turn thick with the unresolved pressure from both of them, making their interactions awkward and brief. At times like breakfast, there would be little conversation. And during the rare long talks, Elaine would always find some way to snake her own desires into them. Desires Evangeline still couldn't give her at present time.
Evangeline depended on Elaine for her own happiness, always thinking that, yes, Elaine was enough. Even through the fights and unwanted thoughts of being trapped, being powerless in this game, she still wanted to stick by Elaine no matter the tide.
But for Elaine...there was something she wanted more than the girl in front of her.
"It's about us."
Evangeline blinked at Elaine's bright face, a face that became once again cast in shadow as she continued. "I don't think we should stay together."
Evangeline's breath hitched in her throat, choking her for a second as she tried to muster up her words. "What do you mean, love?"
"It's clear that you don't know what you want." Elaine frowned and manipulated the light again to make her face clearer to the girl caked in metal and leather, "You always say that you will choose me when it's all over. Well, when is it going to be over?!" She doesn't wait for Evangeline to speak and cuts her off by gesturing to her attire, "You're always out and coming home with blood all over you. Blood that I have to wash off at the end of the day. Even now, you look ready for battle. And by the end of today, you don't know if you're coming back tomorrow, in 3 weeks, or never."
Evangeline is about to speak up warily but is cut off once again by Elaine's hand slamming down on the table, her expression one of pure rage and exhaustion.
"I'm sick of it!"
Elaine sighs in relief, glad to have gotten that off her chest for the 3rd time that week. She's never been so upfront and straight forward about it before. And she definitely never said anything about leaving Evangeline before in her life. But she decided. Enough was enough.
Evangeline stared at her in shock and disbelief, not wanting to believe what she just heard. She briefly wonder if this was a dream, and that what Elaine was saying was just something her stressed subconscious cooked up and burnt to feed her anxious heart. Her mouth gaped open as the seconds ticked by. Time seemed to slow for the girl made of iron and steel.
She...doesn't mean that, right?
With a deep breath, Evangeline began to speak, her imperfect thoughts written clearly on her face for all to see, like the thick bold print on Maven's coronation posters.
"I-I know you're tired of me never being here... But please just give it a bit more ti-"
"DON'T YOU GET IT, EVANGELINE?!" Elaine's temper erupted from her form, spilling over her and Evangeline in waves. Her body was bathed in full light now, fully and dangerously illuminated in the now bright room. Her eyes simmered with something wild and uncontrollable, something reckless and ugly. This was the first time Evangeline saw her like this. "I'VE GIVEN YOU TIME!"
Deep down, Evangeline knew this was true. She knew this more than anything. All the times spent thinking about Elaine were probably times she spent thinking about Evangeline in turn. She understood better than the next person, because, like Elaine, Evangeline always found her being frustrated with herself in each moment of sudden thought about the girl sculpted by the son. She understood so well that it was horrifying.
"I love you, Evangeline Samos. But I can't keep living like this. I can't keep worrying about when or if you'll come home, how much time we still have, and if this war will even be over before we die old. I hate to admit it... But there's something I want more than you. "
"But you're all I want," Evangeline wanted to say. Elaine was all she ever wanted, all she ever needed. And the one thing she would never forgive herself for losing.
But how could she prove that when there were other things important to her as well? Anothers' love that she still wanted to earn... Was it truly so ridiculous to not want to throw away one unrequited love for a reciprocated one? She couldn't be sure...
Evangeline choked up and looked as if she was about to cry. But she was too stubborn to even shed a tear. The only words she could manage to get passed her lips without
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Sevenish Sentence Sunday
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Hi y'all, happy Sunday!! It's been a busy writing week, I posted Let Me inside (I Want to Get to Know You) with @affectionatelyrs on Thursday and I want you more (Somehow, I just want you more) today, though neither have an official sort of tumblr post yet.
In the meantime, though, if you haven't read the second fic, Google Doc titled Size Queen Alex, here's a snippet (linked above):
Henry’s eyes, which are trained on their point of connection, flit up to meet Alex’s. “Alex, you— Are you—” “Yeah,” Alex chokes out. “Keep going.” Henry sucks in a breath, nodding, seemingly collecting himself. Then, the corner of his mouth curls up into a small smile. “You look… Incredible, Alex. You’re taking it so well.”
Thanks for the tags @rockyroadkylers @run-for-chamo-miles @bigassbowlingballhead @littlemisskittentoes @magicandarchery @msmarvelouswinchester @getmehighonmagic @itsmaybitheway @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @songliili @sophie1973 @duchessdepolignaca03!!!
For Sunday or whatever day you'd like to post, I'm tagging @kiwiana-writes @affectionatelyrs @inexplicablymine @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @leojfitz @eusuntgratie @firenati0n @anincompletelist @wordsofhoneydew @whimsymanaged @gay-flyboys @gayrootvegetable @cactusdragon517 @cultofsappho @cricketnationrise @14carrotghoul @junebugclaremontdiaz and anyone who wants to share, open tag, allow me to enable you!
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imperatrice21 · 4 months
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Does anyone know any fanfics where Cal chooses Mare in the first book instead of taking her and Maven to the king?
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lucy-the-cat · 2 months
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Rq Flash Fic Fridays
Setup: I read a "Maven changes because Mare gets pregnant with his child in the first book" fic and I was like . . . no. So I got to deconstructing how he would react and this was the most interesting outcome
His face goes white.  “You–”
“It’s Cal’s,” I hiss.  “We slept in the same bed for months; it was bound to happen.”
His eyes flicker, as if he, too, is on the boat again.  As if my touch burned as deeply as his did.  “I’ve seen inside your head, Mare.  I know he didn’t have the nerve.” His breath hitches.  “Not like I did.”
I yank down my collar, letting the M sear my vision until I can breathe again.  The reminder of his crimes, the erasure of his kindness, the one I know he can never take back.  “Nerve.  Is that what you call it?”
“I did love you, Mare.”
“Save it.”  The fabric tears beneath my grip, and Maven frowns.  My heart won’t stop racing.  “Will you make me keep it?”
Something rolls over him, a tension I don’t care to unpack.  “It would be better if I didn’t.”  He eyes the brand as if he might kiss it.  “Still.”  A step forward.  “The propaganda.  The spectacle.  And, of course, Cal.”  His lips quirk.  “It would be a shame if he never found out.”
“Elara would skin you alive for this, Maven.”  I shake my head.  “Red children.  I’m surprised you’re even able to say it.”
He stares me in the eye.  “Mother isn’t here, is she?”
@drewtanakagf @nortaeventcouncil
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phantomstatistician · 2 months
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Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Sample Size: 49,213 stories
Source: AO3
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Red Queen Fan Fiction - Off-Duty
February 2nd - Happy Birthday, Shade Barrow
A/N: This year, not fun edit-making but the finalization of the fic of pure self indulgence I laboured in love for 7 months. It was a marvellous joy, based on two old shit posts of mine (x y)  I now offer to share to celebrate Shade’s birthday. (How much I enjoyed this, seven years after Glass Sword, shows me how much this character and couple still mean to me. Maybe I can believe in lasting love after all. For them.)
5504 words, it is long
Find this on Wattpad
Find this on AO3
Off-Duty
The rain pounded a rhythm on the makeshift balcony roof both irritating and comfortable. The first because of its dissonance with the ball’s music wafting up, the latter as the sound was certainly more homely than the howls of the storm ruling the skies of the Monfort capital for the last days. It was its own kind of uplifting, despite the wetness and still dark horizon, that Shade gave up keeping Clara indoors and set up their picnic on the balcony. The light at least was shining in a warm red from the gathered night lights beside them, reflecting the colour of the rain protection foils above. To keep them dry, Shade had scavenged umbrellas, wires and canvas and fumbled them into the resemblance of a roof through some risky ledge gymnastics relying on his teleporting ability to save him in case of falling. He hoped the same ability made him fast enough to grab Clara should her constant, curious skygazing lead her to lean too far over the ledge. In fact, he didn’t trust on teleporting alone when it came to her, as he was too nervous to leave her out of his sight for a second too long and eat in peace.
He tried to lure her away with some of the food he’d sacked from the snack buffet for the party downstairs in the palace. Though Clara did turn around, she ignored the orange-glazed yeast cake he held out in favour of a tiny rice and vegetable bowl. Shade exhaled with relief, but Clara seemed barely so. When he offered the rice pudding with cherries next, she shook her head. “For Mama,” she said. “Sure,” he replied with a forced smile. Clara could be more perceptive than he expected at her two and a half years. Did she understand Diana was missing her own party? Or had he been too exact about her anticipated return from the Lakelands? It wasn’t officially “her” party, more an annual ball to remember the fallen and the veterans, but in Davidson’s circle, it was known that General Farley was to meet with representatives from Prairie who finally showed the start of an interest in brokering an alliance – with Monfort and the Scarlet Guard, no less. Diana wasn’t the usual choice for diplomacy though given Ella’s advice, the warlord from Prairie would rather be convinced by a brusque military leader. More so if she brought as a negotiating feature intelligence on the latest lakelander movements. As she’d been engaged in them. Or still was. As of, right now. Shade bit off some spicy bread with a slice of smoked ham. He supposed he would’ve heard of it if things had gone that wrong and Diana’s unit was still tied in battle. But if the situation was that dire, anything could’ve happened and with the communication cut off. No wonder Clara stared at the sky as if she could see the light of the plane returning her mother. He couldn’t wait for it, either. Diana had been set to be back two days ago. Leaving them three whole days of family life before his own mission to Ciron loomed and whose preparations he felt less and less inclined to proceed with. While Mare was with Cal in Piedmont and Kilorn and his brothers in Norta, Shade had been recommended to scout in the western country for possible allies, ideally to initiate first contacts together with other high-profile spies he barely knew. The opposite to quality time with his longed-for beloved and their daughter couldn’t be harsher when the lack of contact also made him worry - if not freaking out - about the well-being of the rest of his family. He felt terribly egoistic and also almost unashamed of it. He was fed up. It broke his heart enough to see Clara staring after a glimpse of her mother, how could he abandon her now, without Diana to relieve him? As if it could be called relieve, like a battle strategy, but it was the plan the two of them had come up with: Just one of them would be engaged in operations at one time, and this had lasted for almost two years now. Only Shade doubted the system more and more. He hardly wanted to leave Clara out of his reach and miss her growing each day. He’d also wanted to welcome Diana, had dreamed of her skin, her smell, her voice. The way she only smiled at Clara. Yesterday should’ve been theirs and this pitiful picnic should’ve included her. In the sunshine. Climbing the hills as if on a vacation, to forget the dangers they were in or just escaped even though she would’ve questioned him about his mission in her way to see him off safe. Thanks to the storm, any part of this became impossible and Clara’s glare at the cloud didn’t lessen in concentration. If she could, she’d challenge the weather itself. Shade risked a second to dip a pig-shaped cake in caramelized milk and devour it in one go before trying to offer another to Clara. This time, she took it, dipping it absentmindedly, yet on the way to her mouth, she let it drop. “There!” she pointed, jumping up. Shade was too startled to think and, still struggling to swallow the food, simply reached for Clara. She grinned, pointing again. But he didn’t see, too relieved to have Clara secure against his chest. Then he heard the aircraft approaching the palace. When he grasped its meaning, his grin mirrored Clara’s. The storm drove rain in his face before Shade was fully materialized, and the ground swayed beneath his feet. The truth about teleporting was that the dizziness never went away, not even for a teleporter himself. The irritations and imbalances coming with contradicting the corporeal world had to be fought with resilience, willpower, and focus, whether you were sneaking behind an enemy or escaping them. Now, though, he was grounded by Clara on his shoulder and before him – Her eyes, bright despite the dark, finding them immediately – The surety of her gait, approaching – Her smile, growing clearer and broader with every step – She was a woman in parts, and he longed to have her whole in his arms, and so he strode to her – until Clara heaved and then he stumbled for real, glancing at his daughter, trying to shift or steadying her. But to no avail, as she puked all over his chest and he was thrown out of his dreamy desires and stood there, frozen and dumbfounded. He jerked his head to the sound of a snort and there she was, Diana standing right before him. “Come here, dove,” she said, taking Clara from Shade and already comforting and cleaning her with her scarf, as efficient as ever. “Mama,” cried Clara, and Diana was quick to answer with soothing phrases. He searched her eyes darting between Clara and him and around and when their gazes locked, he found her glance full of joy and amusement as she bit her lips to keep from laughing. “Well, Dee,” he said finally, “the ball’s food we ate was better than it seems right now.” “Was it?” she asked, smirking, and reached out to caress his cheek with her thumb. It sent a shiver over his whole body. He hoped there wasn’t vomit on his face, too, and he cursed the rain for interfering with the intensity of her touch. He wanted to take her hand and pull her close, despite it all, because who gave a shit, but then her hand was back to hold Clara whose temple she kissed while he was still full of sick. He decided he didn’t care after all and shook off his freeze, just when Diana changed direction. “Ah, there’s Grandma, dove, let’s greet her and Grandpa,” she said as she walked ahead where, indeed, Shade’s parents approached, supposed to have Clara while he and Diana attended the ball. Diana looked over her shoulder. “So we all have to get changed,” she said to him. Winking. “I bring Clara to Ruth and Daniel and we meet upstairs, okay?”                    
“Bye, Papa,” Clara said. “Okay, bye,” he replied with a sigh filled with deprivation as he crossed his arms – wet and dirty. He’d make do with a shower for now.
He'd hurried cleaning up in the shared bathroom but long hair had its demands, especially in case of an event. With his long hair just dried and out of its bun for the ball, Shade found Diana in their apartment, mistreating a dress uniform in front of a mirror. At the second of his entry, she glanced at him, currently forgetting her battle but revealing the sum of the mess frontally. She couldn’t stop fidgeting with the clothes just for a second, always dragging the sleeves this way or that. The uneven buttoning revealed her bare throat down to her skimpy undershirt, making her look as unstyled as Cal in his workshop clothes and the medals she tried to pin were all over her chest, but not in a becoming pattern. He burst out laughing, in revanche, louder and freer than Diana earlier without a sick Clara in vicinity. Diana flushed, increasing her visible contempt for the outfit. “I suspect medals are really meant for punishment if they come with this horrible dress uniform.” Shade wiped his mouth, stepping closer to inspect the horror. As he touched the jacket where Diana had experimented with shifting the alignment of buttons and buttonholes, she sucked in a breath. He swallowed in turn, a shiver running over his arms. He felt the ghost of their missed welcoming hug. Now, as near as they hadn’t been for weeks, the yearning for reunion was overwhelming. As it was for cupping her breasts. Another swallow ended in a cough. “First of all, try a proper shirt, loose on the shoulder, not a tank top.” “But – “ “I’ll leave the top buttons open and fix your tie in a fancy knot. And the pins I can use to keep the collar from your throat.” Assessing her styling kept him cool. Even as her eyes bored into him. Eyes that should match her style. So he should look – He stepped back but Diana caught his hand. “Help me take it off.” “It is already more off than on,” he said with a snort, pulling away for good to search for the right shirt. Some women were okay with clothes fitted for most men but curvy and broad-shouldered Diana was not one of them. He did not glimpse at her. “I left Clara with your parents,” she called to his back, “as usual at these blasted events. Tsk. As if I wouldn’t rather stay with her right now … she fell asleep before I could barely talk to her.” He heard her walking around. A hand on his shoulder. “You're right,” she said, glimpsing over his shoulder and eating a dish of rice pudding. “The food is great. I hope your parents got some snacks, too.” "I'd be surprised if they didn't." He smirked. "Clara wanted to leave that rice pudding for you, you know", he told her. "Really?" Diana beamed. "She can be so sweet." "Or almost grown up." Diana sighed, the remark nagging at her for a few seconds. He felt for her hand and squeezed it. “Was she better, no more throwing up?” he asked. She shook her as she took the shirt. “It just exhausted her. Maybe she’s just like me, uncomfortable with teleporting.” The thought amused them both, even as they cosseted and worried about Clara the immediate moment. The daughter of a teleporter couldn’t stand the ability. Did that mean she didn’t have the ability herself? He sighed. Suddenly he strongly wished to hold Clara and solace her. Indeed, a blasted event upsetting the millions of things they could better do tonight. Least of all tracing the curves of Diana’s body beneath the formal attire as she changed. Instead, he could talk. Neutrally asking about her recent operation. How did her mission go? Diana seemed hale and whole enough but the relief at the first sight of her washed over him again as she confirmed it. So, what about the rest of her unit? What was left out of the reports, what would affect the negotiations to take place? Would there be repercussions, also on his mission – the very next day? Diana was dry in her replies even as she chattered along nonetheless, playing along if Shade wasn’t open to “taking off” her uniform. He knew they wouldn’t leave the room this night if he gave in to that. As he produced his own dress uniform from the closet and moved to put it on, he cursed at their deal simply cut for unpredictable schedules. He should refrain from his missions. The thought, once appeared, dropped like a stone. He couldn’t imagine abandoning his comrades-to-be on a whim. But he was unable to unthink it. To stand back and steal the time for their family to stay together appeared like a goal. He straightened his posture, the reflection of his prim, military outfit belying his true resolution. “That we should have to steal the time to be together,” he said aloud. She met his eyes, softly for once. “We do it for Clara.” At first, he said nothing as he returned to dressing Diana and paced around her. “Clara needs a lot of things,” he replied finally as he put her jacket back in place. “You've been great with her the last weeks,” Diana whispered as the jacket almost glided onto her with the silky and loose-fitting tunic beneath. It was her favourite pretty shirt, one she hardly had chances to wear. "She already misses you," she said, glancing for the corner of his eye rather than his reflection. As do I, she mouthed. Why don't you say that aloud? he wondered. Her eyes in the mirror sparkled with something unsaid. She felt for his arm and squeezed. “I’ll look after her first thing in the morning. Rise with the dawn, and all that.” “I know, I know, you never forget about the Guard,” Shade answered, though with a dose of humour. He could see before his eyes how Diana would spend the next day spoiling Clara while staying alert for new military developments. He’d rather see it for real than imagine it, though. As he stood behind her, both before a mirror, he stretched out her arms, settling inner and outer sleeves. The he felt for her front for the buttons, watching their reflections as his fingers went up, pressing against her belly. “You’re so nimble,” she whispered. Finished at the front, his hands glided along her arms to entwine their fingers. “You’d know,” he answered quietly into her ear and his lips were just about to kiss her neck when he froze in the act. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Diana’s disappointment flash in the mirror. “I won’t undo my work right when it’s complete,” he said and, without letting go of her hand, spun around as if in a dance. If Diana was still flustered, she didn’t show it but only a wicked, dazzling grin as she swayed along with him. “See, you can move in it,” he said. “More elegant than you claimed once.” She snorted in affront. “These dress-up things are an insult to those who fight in the field, with how little movement they offer.” He increased the pace of their dance. “I find it quite comfortable right now.” Despite her complaints, she went along with the faster, more complicated dance moves he started. “Well, obviously the uniforms have been designed with your body types in mind from the start, all lean and straight.” “Straight.” He tsked. “Only outwardly,” she clarified and initiated a new step. “In a more – most – desirable way,” she added under her breath. “Glad to hear you still find me beautiful.” “Hm. You should say that to me,” she countered before he twisted them around, one, two, three times, until he let go of the dance pose to cup her face. “Has the gorgeous General Diana Farley of the Scarlet Guard and mother of our child finally become vain?” he asked. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Just that I’d enjoy to hear it, as a general, mother and your …” she bit her lips. He blinked. “What?” She took his hands to remove them from her face and pull away, turning to the mirror to control whether her outfit had survived. Or to check how deeply red her cheeks were. “A miracle,” she muttered. “Of course you are.” She smiled at him. “When did you even learn that?” Did she really think this obvious shift of topic would work? “From Gisa, for a start. Had to serve as her mannequin and model and you know she had to work for silver tastes.” He rolled his eyes. “But yeah, she also said the basic styles are like designed for sticks like me.” “A beautiful stick.” She cackled. “But good she had other customers and body types now.” “Like you? Truly.” He bit his lips. “Though there were always stockier silvers, too,” he said absentmindedly, though he was already thinking about someone else. Diana noticed. She waited for him to continue, merely blinking once or twice. She was never so calm or patient with anyone else but Clara – or him. It encouraged him as he took to his time to consider his words. “It was before we met, when I was newly conscripted to the nortan army. As an aide, I had to manage an officer’s supply including his clothes. “He treated me like a butler at times. Missed the luxuries from home but didn’t have the chance to bring them. Including servants.” Diana winced. “You only told me he was an idiot before, though smart enough to hire you.” “Smart?” Shade grimaced. “Not so rewarding for him given where we got as he went lost.” “So is he? Lost?” Shade shrugged and Diana prodded further. “I know you’d check what became of him.” Shade glanced away and quieted, listening in for the faint waves of the sound barely reaching them. They were more felt than heard. “It was a dark time I don’t take pleasure in telling and reliving,” Shade admitted finally. She hugged him back as he stood still for good. “But I'm here to listen when you need me to.”
His fingers drummed with the music as Shade glided through the ball. At times, he was about to start humming before stopping himself. At least it managed to distract him; almost too well. He didn’t have the nerve to spy tonight, to chat and deceive while the pressure of the next day loomed over him. Still, as his blood pulsed in anticipation of Diana’s return from conferring with the Prairie warlord, Russell. He had considered following Diana to hide and listen, but for what reason? She knew him too well not to notice and he wouldn’t bother her that way. And he trusted her. She’d succeed in negotiations and either way, he couldn’t look after her from tomorrow on –
“Thinking about me?” he startled and choked on his drink as Diana arrived that very moment to take him by the arm, entwining their fingers. She wasn’t one for public affection, so this display of closeness was as demonstrative as a kiss. It certainly felt almost as intimate as he glanced over the crowd in her grasp, aware of the people who saw them. He set aside the glass and completed their embrace, already pulling her along to sway to the rhythm of the song. “For sure,” he replied with an exaggerated drawl. “I longed to resume our dance where we left off.” She raised an eyebrow in amused doubt as her hand roamed over his back and he sucked in a breath. His own hand on her waist began to prove a temptation he tried to battle by focusing on intensifying the dance steps. He listened for the first beats of a new song, changing into a different dance and he was ready for the shift. A taxed Diana followed his lead. Despite her flush, she enjoyed the challenge of the dance. “You do seem eager.” He shrugged, smiling. “And you seem smug. You have the warlord wrapped around your fingers already?” She made a scale gesture with her fingers. “He’s predictable enough, as was his reluctance before. I know the type. Doesn’t want to state his offers, so I let him dangle and stay vague myself. He’ll spill soon enough.” He let her twirl under his raised arm.” And we have the time?” Her mouth twitched after the spin, unperturbed by the move, dancing as fresh as if just woken from sleep instead of locked in a tumultuous flight. “In this case. He’s so eager for the edge in an alliance he doesn’t grunt about efficiency in meetings.” “So he’s spying.” She mock-hit his shoulder. “Of course he’s spying, Shade Barrow. You’d know best.” He chuckled and she went on. “As I said, I’m acquainted with the type. I know where to bring his attention and Davidson knows how to appear generous.” “But do you want me to shadow his retinue?” Between the quick steps and the movements of the other dancers, speech was limited between catching breaths. Only as the song rolled out and slowed, they did as well, into a lazy motion staying on the spot, two people in their own pace and place, careless of the rest. Their grip on each other grew firmer and their gaze shifted from playful into serious. Diana swallowed, without losing sight of him. “You’d rather stay?” Her grasp became even tighter, almost hopeful. Could she be agreeing with his doubts? Shade traced her face with his figners. “If you hadn’t arrived this eve – right when you did – I wouldn’t be joining my mission tomorrow.” Diana’s eyes widened. “It’s exactly the promise we mode, isn’t it?” he went on. “One would always stay with Clara. So she’ll never see both parents dying in one battle.” For once, Diana hesitated to meet his eyes as she chewed on that. He shook his head. “Even if I’d spoken to you the day before, when your operation was over and you’d only have to return. Anything could’ve happened still, your base attacked, the airplane crashed – it wouldn’t matter. I couldn’t go on if we’d lost you, not knowing what’s become of you.” He stopped, his brow leaning against hers. Diana covered his hand on her face, her eyes aligning with his. “You would fight no longer … without me?” Shade broke her grip, stepping back. “It’s not like anyone can make me fight for them, can they?” he said, glimpsing Diana’s irritated frown before he teleported away. A silly joke, he knew. Jumping exactly out of reach but still in eyesight, urging Diana to follow him through the rush of partygoers. He could hear Diana calling his name, just not enough under her breath to avoid attention. She sped up, her instincts winning over the chaos. “Are we being dramatic now?” she spat, panting, when they’d reached the empty stairs outside the ballroom with only meters between them. The doors slammed shut behind her. He glanced over his shoulder; she was climbing up after him. “But you didn’t ask…!” she said, still panting, and quieter now. “What we could do differently …” She swallowed while her gaze continued to burn at him nonetheless. “Or if you believe our promise is for the gutter. “I’d rather spent this evening watching Clara sleep, too. Relaxing after being stuck in a plane for hours, delayed because of the weather as well as fake threats. Then hear how you and Clara spent these weeks together. How she grows, what she learns. Quarrel about who of us gets to do what with her. “I want so much, Shade. I’m full of it, so full I can only act to live with it. I understand what you say, I'd do the same. But not … forever. I want Clara, and us, any children we might have, our people, to have it better. I can’t and won’t stop before we win. Or we might lose it again.” She pushed through the final step and reached him at arms’ length. Her fingers fluttered against his back until he spun. “Why do you run away?” she muttered. “As long as it’s needed to make you talk as much as this,” he replied. She snorted but grasped his arms tight, nearly ending their balance – or just about keeping it. He gasped, and she leaned her head against his chest. They were rarely in this position, with her being taller than him. The unusual feeling of it both flustered and elated him, as he imagined her hearing the fast throb of his heart, or how that thought alone made it beat even faster. He started to caress her hair almost automatically. “I know you might not…”, Diana began eventually, lifting her face right so he could see her warmed gaze. “Maybe you don’t see it like that anymore.” What? He nearly said it aloud, having forgotten their topic for their embrace. “Maybe you wouldn’t fight no matter what anymore,” she went on. Ah. “Because we have Clara.” “I never said that,” he replied after clearing his throat. Quiet but sharp. Determined. “I can’t give this up no easier than you. But if – if– I lost you, I couldn’t go on like before.” “Then I want to know that!” she cried out, then exhaled until she caught herself. "There're always other jobs to do either way. I have to know. You could do anything, it doesn't have to in the field." She shook her head, pondering. His hand was on her waist, hugging her closer and closer. Indeed, Shade wasn’t sure himself if that was the solution he craved.
Finally, she lifted her piercing eyes. “Will you join your mission tomorrow?” she asked, her voice low. He sighed. He was here, at an event for soldiers and veterans, celebrating success as well as survival while they were about to broker a new military alliance. Diana stood before him, decked in medals earned in spilled blood, her own and others’. “A recon operation in Ciron,” he said. “I confess, I wonder about the point of where it all might lead.” Diana frowned. “Reconnaissance isn’t a coup.” “It might lead to one,” he countered. “So you’d rather leave it wholly in the hands of others?” “Well, in yours,” he admitted. “And you listen to me.” “I’m not sure if that flatters me,” she said with an ice-cold smile. The general’s smile. “Would you be as reluctant if Mare came with you?” His face fell, caught guilty as charged. No wonder she smiled like that. “No, I wouldn’t,” he confirmed. “I’m a terrible soldier, I suppose.” Diana straightened while he only longed to maintain their embrace as a cackle escaped her throat. “Inclined to blatant favoritism,” she said. “Disobeying orders and acting on his own advice. Questioning officers but without intention to take command yourself. Up for the sneaky jobs and avoiding supervision. Expecting personal relations to cover up misdemeanors.” For all the sharp accuracy, Diana listed the call-outs with an amused grin. “You’ve always been an awful soldier, Shade Barrow,” she concluded. “But I think that’s what brought us together in the first place, isn’t it? You aren’t cut to obey but would follow me lead anyway. To be honest, I’m very glad how you’ve kept running after me – ” Shade blushed at the memory he couldn’t deny. “Umm – “ “Indeed,” Diana went on, “I’ve been honoured to follow you as well. To be with you, as we watched each other’s backs. To see new options – to be made to see new options, because of you, as you insisted on my attention.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve changed for meeting you and I don’t regret a minute of it. Whatever you’ll choose, whoever you become, I want to be with you. I ... won't give you orders if you'll disobey in the end." He grimaced at that remark but Diana paused, puzzled until resolve flashed over her face. "I won't command you where to go but I promise to never leave you behind. Whatever the future holds for us or how we’ll react to it.” She swallowed and goosebumps rose over his skin as blood rushed through his head and her voice was warped by a ringing in his ears. “We’ve … made a promise after Clara was born. That one of us will always stay back for her. And maybe this promise doesn’t work out as well as we thought. But we can make other, new, … different promises. Or vows. A vow …” Her face shone with a flush. “Like?” he breathed, barely audible. “Like, Shade Barrow, would you marry me?” And her eyes sparkled as she said that, despite the way she’d stumbled over the words with insecurity. For a moment, he thought it was the bravest speech she’d ever held. As if she didn’t know what he’d reply. Nor did he, actually. “You never cease to surprise me,” he managed to utter and cursed himself next to her heaving breaths. She deserved a better answer. So he grabbed her by the waist and, as she didn’t kneel but still stood below him, lifted her up to the same stair as him and as she yelped, he embraced her so tightly he could bury his face in her neck. He panted now, harder than her, and not only due to the effort of lifting her. Her arms, hugging him back, were force stronger than gravity, so powerful he forgot he even could teleport. It was just what she always did. After he prodded and urged her to come closer, she’d give more than he’d even imagined asking for. Marriage had sounded so plain and formal, it felt pointless for them. They were comrades in arms, relying their lives on each other, as well as parents raising their little, lovely child. Any considerations to deployments or housing were granted them due to that; their intimate relationship no one else’s concern and he thought that only just. Silvers could keep their conjugal restrictions to settle their finances with marriages; any of Diana and Shade’ s endless but fruitless discussions about a second baby felt more significant. Until she asked him and it suddenly was significant, lighting a flame in his heart that filled him with an energy he craved without knowing what to use it for. They were in love, and it mattered. They became who they were and got to this point, in a palace with leaders on their side because of it and if anything, this flame should keep on burning for the world see and feel as they celebrated it. Shade startled, to look into her eyes and finally give her her bleeding reply, but this time, nothing could save their balance as a distraught Diana jerked as well and they would’ve tumbled down the stairs if their hands didn’t find each other, without thinking, and they maintained footing only to fall over each other with Diana on top of him, both loudly exhaling after the shock. Diana tore at her rumpled uniform. “All your work, undone again,” she exclaimed and laughed. “I’ll help your out of it,” he answered and their eyes met, filled with longing, and the centimeters between them broke into kisses like breathing, until they required real oxygen again. "Did you just come up with that?" he asked quietly, nuzzling her neck. Diana grasped his face to make him look at her but didn't say anything, only blinked. Shit. Guilt settled in his belly. “I didn't mean –” An uncertain smile appeared on her face in slow motion. "Partly?" she offered. Almost like she was prepared if he was taking it as a joke. Her flush intensified, but not just from kissing. Her nervosity heightened, too; he could feel that in her pulse. "I mean, it, the idea to ask, came over me in the heat of the moment, but ... well, I did think about it for a while but if it's all too much of a surprise for you, or not your preference at all-" A laugh rose in his throat, a laugh of elation he just about managed to swallow. "Diana, no." Her face froze. "No, sorry, I didn't mean – sorry!" He took he deep breath. Not a breath of hesitation, but one like drinking in the love for this woman. He found her gaze again. “I'll hold on to you for every minute we have. And I'll still rise before dawn to wake Clara with you, before I'll go to Ciron, for one final round of our plan and then I absolutely do want to marry you, Diana Farley. And throw a bloody royal feast for it.”
A/N 2: I hope that was a surprise for you! It sure was one for me that I managed to write something that made Me The Aro not disregard marriage as a repulsive patriarchal tool to control money and female sexuality let’s stop here but beam along with my OTP. As I worked really long on this, some things were changed and I want to make a honourary mention of the dancing montage bringing Fade from their room to the ballroom including a time skip - it’d work better in movie version ;-)
@elliemarchetti @lilyharvord @mareshmallow @maudthebookeater @king-maven-calore @samanthaslytherin @evangeline-of-montfort @farleydiana @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @petergrantkavinsky @inopinion @hannaharies
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yunabi436 · 4 months
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THIS LINE IS ENOUGH.
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