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fang-and-feather · 2 days ago

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Báidín Fheilimí

Keith x OC (Maeve @keithsandwich ); Fluff; Family; Turning Tables; Birds Chanting; Sharing Sweets; Garden Gathering

A mouse of a whiff sneaks inside, barely colder than the autumn evening or a crisp spring morning. The door to the royal greenhouse closes with a click. Three cups and a teapot balanced on a tray, Keith marches forward, accompanied by the quiet murmurs of the gravel path; he stops mid-step, however, and listens intently, his lips parting slightly as he strains his ears. A quiet hum rummages through the evergreen ferns, dives past the succulent aloe vera leaves, unapologetic and unafraid of even the thorniest cacti specimens.

“Báidín Fheilimí briseadh i dToraí, Báidin Fheilimí is Feilimi ann…”

Keith holds his breath, for even the slightest error on his side could startle this bird. A childish, carefree giggle joins in the song.

“Báidín Fheilimí briseadh i dToraí, Báidin Fheilimí is Feilimi ann!”

Aster breaks into applause, laughing louder than his tiny hands can clap.

“You like it when mama sings, hmm?” Maeve coos, still obscured by the irises and funkias and what could be thousand other plants. Nevertheless, Keith clearly sees the freckles riding up her nose and the small creases – crow feet? – forming as she smiles, at least in his mind’s eye. The vision consumes his reason and leaves him grinning like a fool that he truly is, blinds him to the flutter of the paper-like wings. The dishes clink.

“Who’s there?” Maeve’s voice leaves him petrified. A butterfly sitting on the very tip of his nose, Keith barely manages to catch his balance and restore the tray to order before any tea spills. He makes for a curious statue, his arms outstretched, lips pursed in an act of total concentration, and hips drawn back. The insect hasn’t left him either — quite to the contrary, a fleet of its kind arriving just in time for his wife to witness him become something of a living perching post.

“Maeve, I —”

The proboscis and arthropod legs tangled in his hair matter not, all of his words shrivelling down in the presence of her joy. Maeve blooms, but the momentary distraction causes her grip on their son’s hand to loosen.

“PAPA!” Aster dashes forward, arms flapping like the still clumsy, uncoordinated wings of a fresh fledgeling. He has little concern for the cups carried by his father and worries even less about his own fate, kicking up pebbles while only gaining on speed. It is seconds, half-seconds, a fraction of a blink, and the Keith is Keith no more, or at least not the nice Keith. The butterflies set off just as his eyes take on a sharper edge, the corners of his lips curling up. He raises the tray above his head, back hunched over and knees bent in anticipation of the incoming bolt. Aster’s arms shot up; for a moment, he truly flies. The porcelain shrills, scared of what could have been if even a single thing hadn’t gone right.

“Whaddya thinkin’ runnin’ away from your mama, huh?”

“I want up.” Aster pouts, but earns himself only his father’s grin.

“Yeah, little sprout, up it is. But doncha want the tea? We’ll make it a party. Papa smuggled us snacks in his cape, biscuits and that jelly delight.”

“Snacks!” Hands on the fur of Keith’s collar, the boy nods his head, a whole galaxy shimmering in his eyes.

It isn’t long until they settle over the blanket spread in one of the side alleys and the cups are set and poured. Chamaedorea elegans huddle closer to fan them with their feather-like leaves, shy fittonias – some blushing, some pale – drinking in every word exchanged. Maeve leans back on her arms, eyes half-closed and long, black waves spilling over her shoulder. The linen dress she’s opted to wear is rather generous in its fit yet it doesn’t go out of its way to obscure the obvious fullness to her belly. Keith pinches her ear, pulls as it just lightly enough to prompt her to let out a timid laugh.

“Wanna take a nap?” he asks, his gaze quietly following Aster, then gorging himself on the rose jelly treats. “You gotta rest more now, Mae.”

“You’re being a worrier again.” Maeve rolls her eyes. A healthy blush has taken root in her cheeks and her hair shines like moonlight reflected over the ocean, yet he still is concerned? If she was a blackbird, then Keith could only be a silly goose; she still places her head in his lap, his hand settling into a steady rhythm as he combs his fingers through her waves.

“See? Didn’t hurt ya now, did it?”

Maeve snorts in response, but Keith taps her mouth with his index finger. His thumb presses against her chin and he draws her lower lip down, testing whether she’d allow him entry, teasing as he already knows it is the wrong time… All the more flustered, Maeve returns her attention towards their son. Aster has managed to eat his way through the majority of the crumbly biscuits – his face did not escape the encounter unscathed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Maeve sighs, although it is a flat, amused sound, filled with heartfelt affection rather than exasperation. “You’ve got something on your nose… and chin… and… How did you get it in your hair?”

Her brow furrows, unable to make sense of the sight. The boy must have realised his mistake — in two big gulps, his cup is emptied, and he is dashing down the greenhouse path, full of mischief and with artistically placed crumbs all over his body. His black curls blend in with the low vegetation and the few of the still blooming flowers appear to hide him on purpose, perhaps directed by the trickster fae. Who could wish to whisk him away from his mother if not them?

Maeve sits up with a start. “Aster! ASTER!” she shouts after him, but her body is not particularly agile now. It doesn’t need to be. His hand on her shoulder, Keith takes all her fear and concerns on himself.

“I’ll get him, doncha worry.”

He does exactly as promised.

***

Warm water washes over Maeve’s neck, cleansing any autumn chill off her skin. The greenhouses seem to be the only part of Jade that has retained any of the summer sun, night encroaching on the territory of the day, merciless as it advances with each evening. Soon enough, it will pad the path for winter and then the bath will be one of the few respites available to her. Maeve sinks further between the bubbles.

The door to the bathroom opens with an audible click. It pops in her ears, and her heartbeat momentarily quickens, only to calm at the sound of the familiar steps. Chair legs scrape against the tiles. Keith sits himself down at her feet.

“All sore,” he more so states rather than asks. His cape has disappeared alongside any royal splendour, leaving him only in a simple shirt, his sleeves rolled up. “C’mon, gimmie your leg. I’ll make it better for ya.”

Maeve seems to consider his offer; at first hesitant, she begins to shake her head, but only to stop herself. She looks him up and down, her face taking on a somewhat pleading, grateful expression.

“Thank you. I would really love that,” she admits. Keith meets it wish a sharp grin.

Ripples form in the bath as Maeve shifts in her position, slow and careful, and then completely wild. Water splashes around, wets the floor, his clothes, the nearby cabinet – all is worth it, however, for she’s achieved her objective, a small puff of soapy foam landing squarely on top of her husband’s head.

Keith grabs her ankle, pulls it until she’s submerged up to her very chin.

His thumb presses into the middle of her sole.

Maeve cannot stop the moan spilling from her lips.

“Looks like the tables have turned, blackbird.”

---

I hope you like it, Myara >///<

When I heard this song here, all I could think about was Mae singing it to the little Aster... So... It had to be done >///<

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fang-and-feather · 2 days ago

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A little fic that had come to mind a while back and I wanted to make a reality! I hope you enjoy @keithsandwich :3

Spring Surprise

Keith Howell x Maeve (@keithsandwich's OC) Genre: Fluff WC: ~3k

Late in the spring, in the pale sunrise, Maeve made her way around the sprawling woodland surrounding the castle. She had always felt so at peace here, among the trees and gentle chirping of the birds, and even now, when the stress of royal life threatened to overwhelm her, she found solace in the whispering wind through the leaves.

As she wound around a small cluster of brambles, she stumbled to a halt, a tiny fawn lay curled in the tall grass, head low as she awaited her mother’s return. Maeve knew she ought not approach the little creature, its mother could spook and abandon her baby if she sensed a strange presence.

Instead, Maeve crouched down a good distance away, just barely able to spot the camouflaged fawn from her position. The sun climbed higher in the sky and Maeve had idly begun stringing flowers into a make-shift crown, her mind wandering to Keith. She pictured him looking for her, his large frame seeming out of place amongst the little delicate plants in the area.

Unable to hold back a giggle, Maeve noticed the fawn’s ears perk up and she looked around, searching the underbrush for the doe returning to retrieve her baby. Instead, she heard heavy footfalls and snapping twigs. The fawn cowered in on itself, curling to become invisible and she hardly had a chance to call out before Keith stumbled over the tiny thing. His foot came down on the fawn and his body came crashing down, narrowly avoiding the little deer’s back.

“Oh no! I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying enough attention to where I was going!” He shouted, righting himself and looking at the fragile being that he’d stepped on. She had struggled to her feet but was unsteady, and even in the few wobbly steps she took, Maeve could tell that her hind leg was injured.

Her heart ached, for both the fawn and her fiancé. It was very likely that the fawn would now be unable to keep up with her mother and might be abandoned to fend for herself; a fate that almost certainly spelled death for the poor thing. And Keith looked like he was ready to burst into tears.

“Darling, it’s okay,” Maeve soothed, sinking down to the ground beside the trembling giant of a man. For someone so large, his heart was so fragile and he cared more than anyone she’d ever met. She took his face in her hands and kissed him gently.

“I… I killed it Mae,” Keith whispered, emotion choking his words as he stared helplessly at the fawn, which now lay in the grass a short distance away, tired from it’s escape attempt.

“You’ve done no such thing,” Maeve murmured, stroking her hands through his hair and pulling his head against her chest, knowing the sound of her heartbeat could provide some solace for him.

His long arms wrapped around her and he clung to her as though she were the only thing keeping him from being swept away in the storm of emotions that clouded his mind.

“If she is injured and her mother doesn’t return for her, we’ll simply have to take care of her until she’s recovered,” Maeve added, tilting Keith’s face up toward hers. He still looked unsure, like he wouldn’t dare approach the tiny deer for fear he might hurt her again in some way.

The remainder of the day they kept an eye on her, she didn’t move and there was no sign of her mother returning. Hesitantly, Maeve and Keith had returned to the castle, but in the morning, before the sun had risen, they both went out to check on the fawn.

Hands clasped tightly together, the pair of them made their way cautiously through the forest, and Maeve felt her chest tighten as she saw the trampled grass had hardly been disturbed, and the little fawn was trembling from the cool morning dew soaking her fur.

Maeve loosened her hold on Keith, slowly inching toward the fawn and singing a low, soothing lullaby she’d learned when she was very young. The fawn eyed her warily as she approached but never tensed as though she were thinking of running away. Soon, Maeve was able to hold her hand out for the fawn to inspect, the fawn’s soft nose pressing against her fingertips as she sniffed at each one.

She barely managed to stifle the laughter that she felt; the brief, delicate touch of the fawn’s nose tickled greatly. A tiny pink tongue darted out and the fawn began to pull in one of Maeve’s fingers with her lips, intending to suckle it seemed.

“Oh my, I think she’s hungry,” Maeve hummed softly, using her other hand to stroke between the creature’s ears.

Gently, Maeve was able to scoop up the little thing into her arms. “Let’s head back to the castle, perhaps we can prepare a milk substitute for her, although, she looks as though she’s nearly big enough to start grazing.”

“O-okay,” Keith breathed, still watching hesitantly, but with a look of such awe and adoration. His eyes had taken in every movement of his beautiful wife-to-be and his heart had melted as she’d been accepted by the little deer.

Together, the pair brought the fawn back to the royal gardens, situating her in a paddock with plenty of room and lush with vibrant, green grass.

Maeve had tasked Keith with finding a source of food for the little one, while she watched over her. She carefully inspected the fawn’s leg, stretching it and lifting it to ensure that it hadn’t been broken, and aside from a brief jolt of pain as Maeve placed her hoof back on the ground, the fawn’s leg seemed perfectly fine. Relieved, Maeve settled back on the grass, thankful that it seemed to only have been a sprain.

She’d taken to calling the fawn Orla, given the lovely golden color of her fur. Each morning Keith and Maeve would go out to greet her, bringing along a nice full bottle of fresh goat’s milk. After she’d had her fill, Orla would stumble around the paddock, inspecting every little thing and nibbling at the tufts of grass that stretched higher than the others.

Each day the little fawn grew stronger and bolder, and Maeve found herself spending time with her more and more. Whenever Keith was unable to find her, he knew she would be with Orla, singing softly to her and petting her soft fuzzy ears.

Keith had begun to hang back, not announcing his presence as he listened to her singing to the fawn, his heart swelling with affection for how sweetly his fiancée doted on the little creature. He still felt immensely guilty over hurting her, but he also wondered if maybe it had been written in the stars that this would happen.

On this particular day, Keith found his mind wandering to thoughts of Maeve singing these songs to their own children and his face grew hot. It was something too precious for words and he felt himself moving over to her, his arms wrapping around her. She jumped slightly at the sudden embrace, unaware that Keith had even come up behind her, but as soon as she breathed in his familiar scent, she instantly relaxed and looked up at him.

“Good morning,” she greeted, reaching one of her arms up to tousle his wavy locks. His hair had always been so surprisingly soft, she noted to herself as she continued to rub her fingers along his scalp.

“Morning, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just… well… I…” Keith stumbled over his words and Maeve smiled in amusement, turning in her spot to hook her arms around his neck and pull him down into a gentle kiss.

“You startled me, but knowing it’s you makes it perfectly fine.” Maeve assured him, watching as his golden eyes softened and he leaned in to kiss her again.

The soft sound of steps came up and Keith jolted when he felt a strong tug at his coat sleeve. He looked over and saw Orla gnawing at the green fabric, a small hole appearing where her teeth had managed to slice through it.

“Oh no!” He gasped, trying to figure out a way to get her to stop before she managed to eat the whole sleeve, which he thought was bound to happen if something didn’t change. He flicked his eyes desperately about, his other hand moving toward and away from the creature’s head as he considered nudging her away and talked himself out of it.

Maeve had seen the switch happen before, but it still amazed her to see her kind, fretful Keith transform into someone entirely opposite. She stared at him gently prying the deer’s mouth from his sleeve.

“Ain’t nice chewin’ on people’s sleeves ya know.” He murmured, rubbing the top of the animal’s head a bit aggressively. Her ears twitched in response and she darted off, finding a nice big clump of grass on along the fence to munch on instead.

Maeve turned to Keith, his fingers fiddling with the little hole in his sleeve before he dropped his hand in exasperation. She sank down onto the grass, patting the spot beside her as she looked up at him.

“Guess I’ll need to go get changed before that meeting later,” He grumbled, slumping to the ground beside Maeve and leaning his large frame until he was able to rest his head on her shoulder. Maeve let out a little giggle and ran her fingers through his hair gently.

“I’ll get it patched up while you’re at your meeting,” she offered, letting her own head rest against his. Together, they sat in happy silence and watched the not-so-little deer tromp around the paddock, her interest seeming to be drawn consistently toward the treeline.

“She’s gettin’ pretty big now, oughtta be able to look after herself soon.” Keith noted, his hand snaking around Maeve’s waist to rest on her hip.

Maeve hummed in agreement, sighing, “It will be hard letting her go, but it feels so good to know that we were able to help her heal and grow strong enough to survive on her own.”

“Ya did amazing, sweetheart. You’re gonna make a damn great mother,” Keith murmured.

Maeve felt her face grow hot a smile broke out across her face. Any time Keith mentioned their future together, she felt such a strong wave of excitement and eager anticipation.

“I’m glad we’ll be married soon, I can’t imagine waiting too much longer to begin our family,” Maeve replied, looking over at Keith’s golden eyes.

“Do we really hafta wait until then to get started?” He teased, a wicked smirk quirking his lips.

Maeve leaned forward and kissed him gently, “Soon, my love, soon. We’ve only a few weeks left before the wedding, after that we can start actively trying.”

“I’m going to get you pregnant that night. He and I agree on that.” Keith replied with a huff, stretching his arms and laying back in the grass.

Orla had made her way along the fence and was now approaching Keith with her curious muzzle, and Maeve got to her feet fairly quickly to catch her before she sampled the fluffy grey mass that was lying on the grass.

“Now, now, sweet girl, you can’t be eating my fiancé like this,” she laughed, scratching the underside of Orla’s chin while the deer looked up at her.

As the days grew long and hot, Orla never ceased to grow and soon enough her spots had nearly all faded away and she was more than capable of feeding and protecting herself. It was a sad feeling seeing her off into the woodlands surrounding the Castle, but it was also so very rewarding. She hardly hesitated at all before taking off into the trees. The Royal Forest had become a wildlife sanctuary free of large predators, so Maeve had no doubts that she would be safe to live out her life there, peacefully and happily enjoying nature’s bounty.

Two years later

The days had become warm as spring faded into summer and the green of the Kingdom of Jade was lush and deep. Everywhere Maeve looked there were beautiful plants blooming and growing, filling the air with the scent of trees and flowers and bushes, and creating the perfect atmosphere as Maeve began to tend to her own garden. It wouldn’t be long now before she wouldn’t be able to do this herself.

Her hand moved instinctively to her swollen belly, feeling a gentle thump in response as her baby kicked. She chuckled softly and began to hum to herself, pulling weeds and pruning branches as the sun began to climb in the sky.

Looking up, she noticed Keith chopping some wood nearby. She hummed a little louder, watching his face crack into a smile as he continued the arduous work. Maeve watched Keith for a moment, humming happily for him until she noticed a glint of gold in the trees beyond him.

She quickly began to make her way to the forest, Keith freezing as he noticed she was no longer humming and was hurriedly walking toward him. She reached the trees soon after and began to weave, with some difficulty given her current state, through the thick underbrush.

Sighing after a moment, she found herself in an empty clearing, Keith coming up behind her and asking what’s wrong.

“I thought… Well, I may have been wrong, but I thought I’d seen Orla, you remember the fawn we cared for a couple years ago?” She replied, slowly catching her breath and settling down amongst the roots of a large tree.

Keith crouched down and kissed his wife’s forehead, placing a hand on her belly for a moment.

“Would you like to wait here for a bit? Maybe she’ll come back if she was around here.” Keith suggested, Maeve nodding in response. “I’ll go finish with the wood, and I’ll come back and get you when I’m finished, if that’s alright?”

“That sounds wonderful, Keith, thank you.” Maeve beamed, resting her forehead against his. He murmured a few parting declarations of love for Maeve and their baby, before making his way back through the trees and disappearing from view.

As she waited, Maeve began to hum to herself again, different lullabies and soothing melodies as they came to her mind.

Moments later, she heard the snap of a branch nearby and the rustle of leaves being moved. Glancing up, Maeve’s face lit up in a bright smile and she hummed a little louder, coaxing the deer hidden in the shadows forward. Orla had hardly changed at all in the years that had passed, her fur was that same beautiful golden color and her eyes shimmered with resilience and strength.

The doe cautiously approached Maeve, sniffing at her now outstretched hand for a moment before turning around and disappearing behind the bushes. A wave of disappointment came over Maeve as she watched the deer that she’d grown so attached to walk off without much of an interaction at all.

Letting out a sigh, she resolved to get up and make her way back to Keith and let him know she’d seen their little deer and that she was well and healthy. Just as she was about to stand up, she saw the golden color again from the corner of her eye and watched in awe as Orla led a tiny little fawn out from the vegetation.

Maeve couldn’t help but hold her breath as Orla nudged the little creature forward, its ears pinned back in hesitation. When Orla came up beside Maeve, she settled in the grass and the fawn cautiously approached its mother. It had a slightly darker coat with more pronounced spots and Maeve was utterly smitten. She held out her hand and began to hum softly again, watching as the little creature went from hiding behind its mother to giving into the curiosity of this strange creature that its mother seemed to trust.

It slowly made its way over to Maeve, sniffing the air and skittering backward at the slightest provocation. Maeve tried her best to keep her hand steady and her voice the same level and was finally rewarded with a tentative sniff against her fingertips.

Time seemed to move so quickly after that, the fawn growing more and more curious and eventually settling in the grass, resting its head against Maeve’s thigh as she gently stroked its head.

“Orla, your baby is beautiful,” she murmured softly, glancing up at the doe and smiling gently at her. “Thank you for trusting in me and introducing us.”

As if she understood every word, Orla snorted quietly and blinked slowly.

Suddenly, Maeve heard the familiar heavy footfalls of her husband and Orla’s fawn scrambled to its feet and back over to its mother, Orla rising to her feet as well. The pair slowly made their way back into the underbrush on the far side of the clearing and Maeve watched as Orla turned back toward her.

At that moment, Keith emerged through the trees, skidding to a halt as he noticed the doe standing a short distance away.

“Oh, Mae, it was her.” He whispered, crouching down beside his wife. He joined his hand with her and both watched quietly as Orla dipped her head before disappearing into the woods again.

“Keith, she’s a mother now,” Maeve whispered in awe, “Her fawn is so perfect and sweet, she’s such a good mother.”

“She learned from the best,” Keith replied, kissing Maeve’s temple and stroking her hair with reverence.

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fang-and-feather · 2 days ago

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when he accidentally hurts you during sex

sylus

your breath hitched, but not in the good way. “sylus—wait, stop—”

he froze instantly, muscles tight and eyes wide. “what? did i hurt you?”

you nodded, trying to blink away the sudden sting at the edge of your lashes. the ache throbbed, sharp and unexpected, and it was enough to break the dreamy haze of pleasure.

“i didn’t mean to,” you whispered, your voice small.

his hands were already on your waist, gentling, pulling back, lifting off you like you were made of glass. panic washed over his features—real, raw panic. “angel, i didn’t—i didn’t feel—i would never want to hurt you.”

“i know,” you said quickly, cupping his cheek. “you didn’t mean to. it’s okay, just… a little too deep, i think.”

his throat bobbed with a hard swallow. he looked down between your bodies, like he could rewind time with sheer guilt. “shit… i got carried away. i’m sorry. you have to tell me right away when something feels off.”

“i did,” you said with a wobbly smile. “you stopped right away.”

he pressed his forehead to yours, breathing shallow. “i love you. let me fix this. let me take care of you.”

you nodded, and he gathered you close, wrapping his arms around your soft, trembling body like he could shield you from every discomfort. even the ones he didn’t mean to cause. and he did. with kisses and whispered apologies. with the gentlest touch, as though loving you too roughly again might shatter something sacred.

caleb

you gasped. not from pleasure, but discomfort. and caleb stilled, immediately.

his hand was wrapped around your hip, fingers digging into the softness of your skin. he was holding you firmly, driving into you with the same practiced confidence he always had, but this time, something shifted. it pinched. too hard. too fast.

“hey,” you breathed, eyes squeezing shut.

his whole body halted. “baby?”

“it’s okay,” you said, trying to breathe through it. “just… a little too rough. your hand—my hip—”

the moment he registered it, he looked down at where his hand was gripping you. a red mark had already started blooming beneath his fingers. his heart clenched.

“shit. i’m sorry. i didn’t—” he let go instantly, brushing over the skin he’d accidentally hurt like he could erase it. “are you okay? did i hurt you bad?”

you shook your head, already softening as his panic started to rise. “just startled me.”

he leaned in, kissing your jaw, then your shoulder, then your hip where his fingers had pressed too deep. “i didn’t mean to. i’d never… i got too into it. you feel too damn good, i lost my grip—literally.”

you gave a small laugh, and he exhaled in relief. “i’ll be gentler. you just say the word, okay? i need you to talk to me.”

“i trust you, caleb.”

he nodded, but still looked like he was punishing himself inside. “i’ll earn that. every time. even when i mess up.”

he gathered you close, slowing the rhythm, stroking your skin in featherlight touches, every kiss a silent promise: you’re safe with me, even when i slip, i’ll always stop for you.

zayne

your back slammed into the edge of his desk hard enough to knock the breath out of you. you winced for a second, but zayne caught it. everything froze.

he was still caging you in, one hand tangled in your half-ripped shirt, the other gripping your thigh. his mouth hovered just above yours, breath hot and ragged… but his eyes dropped to your expression, and the fire flickered.

“wait,” he said lowly, a tremor creeping into his voice. “did i—shit, my love. did i throw you too hard?”

you nodded, biting your lip. “a little.”

he stepped back instantly, horror splashing across his features. “fuck. fuck. i wasn’t thinking—i didn’t mean to—your back, are you—did i hurt you?”

his hands hovered, unsure where to touch. he looked at the red line already rising along your skin, jaw tightening like he wanted to beat himself with his own fists.

“i got carried away,” he muttered. “you make me crazy and i just—i forgot how strong i am, i—damn it. i’m sorry.”

you reached for him, drawing him back in. “it’s okay. you didn’t mean to. i know that.”

but he still looked tortured. “i never want to scare you. or hurt you. ever. you have to tell me when i cross the line—even a little.”

“i did,” you whispered. “and you stopped. that’s what matters.”

he kissed your shoulder, your neck, the small of your back like a silent apology. then he picked you up—not rough, not wild, but careful—like you were something priceless.

“from now on,” he murmured, low and earnest, “i’ll still fuck you like i mean it… but i’ll hold you like i love you.”

xavier

it was everything. his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tight to yours, every slow roll of his hips deliberate, controlled, perfect. you were gasping, fingers clawing at his back, legs wrapped around him as he whispered filth and praise in your ear like he was reciting poetry.

“god, darling, you feel unreal. so tight for me—taking me so good—”

thunk.

you flinched as your head smacked the headboard. xavier froze. then scrambled. “shit! darling—baby, did i—fuck, i heard that. did i hit you?!”

your hand flew to the back of your head, and you winced. “a little. it’s okay, i just—”

“no, no, no, not okay,” he said, already sitting up and pulling you into his lap, his hands moving over your scalp like a medic. “did you get dizzy? do you feel nauseous? am i giving you a concussion during sex?! oh no—”

you laughed, even though your head still throbbed. “xavier, calm down. i’m not dying.”

he looked so distressed it was almost cute. “i knew i was going too hard. you make these sounds and i black out, what do you want from me?”

“maybe just… less thrusting against hardwood.”

he groaned, pressing his forehead to yours. “i’m getting you padded headboards. silk pillows. a whole safe sex setup. and i’m kissing that spot every night for a week.”

“you better.”

“you’ll feel it,” he whispered, voice turning low again, lips brushing your temple, “every time i make love to you… i’ll make sure the only thing banging is your heart.”

rafayel

you didn’t even notice it at first. not until the heat between your shoulder blades turned into a sting.

rafayel had you pinned, his breath hot in your ear, voice a low growl as his hips snapped against yours. “you like when i take you like this, don’t you? let me ruin you…”

but the moment you flinched, a twitch beneath his grip, he noticed. then he froze. his hands loosened from your back. he leaned up, suddenly still. “what was that?”

you hesitated. “your nails, i think. you scratched me a little.”

his eyes widened, and he pulled away like he’d just been electrocuted. “what?”

you sat up on shaky arms as he reached around you to look. his fingertips brushing the red marks across your skin, faint but raised. his stomach twisted.

“i didn’t—shit,” he whispered. “i didn’t feel it. i didn’t even know i—” his hands trembled as he moved them to your waist. “i hurt you.”

“no,” you said gently, turning to him. “you didn’t. it was just a scratch. you didn’t mean to—”

“but i left a mark,” he snapped, his voice breaking with guilt. “i got too into it. i should’ve known.”

you pulled him back down, guiding his hands to your waist. “rafayel. i’m okay. you stop the second i need you to. i trust you.”

he pressed his forehead to your shoulder, lips grazing over the marks like a silent apology. “you’re not supposed to bleed because of me,” he whispered. “you’re supposed to feel loved. worshipped.”

“i do.”

and when he looked at you—eyes glassy, guilt thick in his throat—you saw just how deeply he felt it. he’d make it up to you. with kisses, and reverence. with silk-soft fingers and whispered apologies that lasted well into the night.

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fang-and-feather · 2 days ago

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𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

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fang-and-feather · 2 days ago

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had the grand honour to draw one of my favourite otps in the whole wide world thanks to the joy that @keithsandwich is 🥰.

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fang-and-feather · 2 days ago

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Commission for the lovely @keithsandwich 🥹 I'm so honored you liked my version of deer Keith enough that you wanted to see him with Mae 😭

Thank you so much for letting me draw these two, I love them a lot!! And I had a so much fun drawing them!

Kofi | Commission info

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fang-and-feather · 3 days ago

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The Burdens of a King

So this fic was inspired from a few different things. Mainly I was rereading Keith's route and when I got to this part I found myself wondering about what the King was thinking/feeling. Tied to that there was a post very long ago now talking about all the kings and saying how they're all terrible but there's still hope for the king of Jade. Those two, combined along with the why did he never remarry question, and I thought what if the King's motives aren't what they appear. So that's what I wrote, it had originally been longer but I did a lot of trimming of stuff I can put into other fics and it's still super long. I present to you the King of Jade's POV for end of chapter 23 start of chapter 24 from Keith's dramatic route. Some swearing, WC just over 3k.

“Ugh.”

What is all that racket?

The fog from the poison still clouded his mind but no royal survived this long without instinctively knowing those sounds. The old king carefully dragged himself from his bed and reached for his broadsword. He clutched the weapon firmly despite the way his body screamed out, closing his eyes he let out a deep breath.

The bastard couldn't even wait for the poison to finish me off I see. Oh well maybe I can drag him to hell with me then…now!

Years of experience and practice had honed his skills and he swung. The sound of metal clashing against metal rang out overloud in the quiet, the king's eyes flew open staring daggers at his target.

What the hell is this failure doing here! Don't tell me it was actually all true? No, he's not stupid enough for that…so then.

As the Kings thoughts weaved themselves down different paths and possibilities the fighting continued. Until he was satisfied he had a grasp on what was happening he would keep his opponent busy. He may be old and at a disadvantage but he couldn't afford to misstep now, too much was riding on what would happen here tonight.

The room looked like a battlefield with broken furniture and pottery strewn about the floor. Another blocked swing but this time his body had pushed too far and he collapsed to knees in a coughing fit.

I would have liked more time but it will have to do.

“If this goes on any longer, you really will die. You haven't fully recovered yet, have you?”

You always did like to talk, suppose I should currently be thankful for that.

“And who's fault do you think that is, you fool?”

This better not be a waste of my time, I don't have much of it left.

“I brought the antidote."

“So you're a bad liar as well as a failure. There's no treatment for this.”

That eccentric pain in the ass would have found one if there was.

“Didn't you know? I’ve been aware all along of the risks that poison posed, and I funded the development of an antidote, just in case.”

Well…you are oddly fond of that eccentric, you get that from your mother. Nobody else could put up with Yule like that. Even then you don't have the knowl-

“The herbalist who was helping me develop it suddenly went missing partway through, so I had to take over and continue the work alone…But even a failure like me is capable of producing an experimental antidote.”

Missing I'm sure. I have to admire Fernan, he really is quite clever, too bad his ego’s the size of all of Jade.

The King scoffed internally as he thought about his younger brother. Oh he was well aware of what was going on behind the scenes but many years ago he had been forced into a game and he moved carefully ever since hoping for the outcome that for many years now had seemed impossible, until tonight anyways.

“And you expect me to believe that?”

Show me what you've accomplished, all the years after Tio died, pushing you then trying to protect you when pushing didn't work. Prove to me that they weren't a waste!

“I'm not good at subtlety, so I'll just get straight to the point. First of all, I'm not the one who tried to poison you. It was Fernan.”

The King sighed internally.

Any idiot with half a brain cell could figure that out boy! You need to damn well do better or else what did you come here for?

“What baseless nonsense. Isn't it enough that you've tried to kill me? Are you so jealous of Fernan's brilliance that you'd kill him, too?”

The King's words were firm and outwardly appeared unkind but deep down they were anything but.

You've always been too soft, a child like you had no place being born into royalty. It's a horrible and dangerous life where one wrong move will cost if not your life…

The King's thoughts traveled back to a small boy with a bright smile.

You need to do better Keith!

“He’s tried to kill me multiple times.”

Yes and yet you're still here. Now why are you still here?

“Learn your place.”

“I've been trying to, my whole life. Why are you always so quick to believe your brother's words, yet you refuse to listen to a single thing your son says?”

You honestly think I believe anything that comes out of that bastards mouth? I'm a better actor than I thought…

“...But thinking back, you've always been like, ever since that day.”

Yes…that day the game changed for good, bloody Fernan dragging the two of you into it, you all were much too young to play.

“You just arbitrarily decided that I was the one who did it, without even considering any of the other possibilities.”

You really are a fool! It's not that I didn't consider the other possibilities, it's because I did consider them.

“What the hell did I ever do to you!”

Those words were the first that had hurt the king in many years, had he not already been on his knees he would have collapsed to them for sure.

Oh my son, the only thing you ever did was be born too good hearted. Even in the best of countries royalty and nobility will eat each other alive and in the worst well…what that monster did to his family. What our own ancestors have done to each other. Fernan's not the first of his kind, just the most recent.

The King looked at his son and saw the fire burning in his eyes. He studied them for a long time, trying to decide something, as the silence dragged on.

I need to know you can do this Keith.

“A claim means nothing without proof, if you're going to be that insistent, than you have to prove that you're not the criminal-”

Another coughing fit racked his body bringing blood with it, and the King doubled over again.

I've always been ridiculously healthy but this time it seems it won't save me.

The King saw Keith rush towards him, calling out, but he raised his hand.

I don't want your kindness…

“Stay back!”

I want you to show me who exactly have you become! A flower to be trampled underfoot or a weed who will persist even through the harshest of circumstances?

“If you drink the antidote, you should feel at least a little better. I've tested it on myself.”

Why are you always doing that? At least Yule tests her concoctions on other people what is wrong with you!

“Stop spouting nonsense. A failure like you could never make anything like that.”

Now show me something damn it, we're running out of time!

The King was becoming frustrated and the never ending circle they seemed to be caught in but before he could say anything else another voice spoke up.

“Prince Keith, do you have multiples of the antidote?”

“Hmm? I do but…”

“Very well.”

“Emma?!”

The King watched as the young woman who had slipped in after his son swiped the bag from him and rummaged around it for a vile. He'd paid no attention to her before as clearly posed no threat. Pulling out a vile at random she unstoppered it and immediately made a face but then steeled herself and drank down the contents, the clear dislike for the taste showing on her face.

Hahaha another one! Where did you ever find this young lady?

“Emma, what are you doing! You don't even know what side effects-”

“But now I've at least proven that it's not poison. And it's not like you're going to risk your life and sneak into the palace just to force the king to take an antidote that's not even going to help him! You're not that reckless and you're not that stupid either.”

The King took in the scene before him, a small smile crossing his lips for the briefest of moments.

Well now…

The young woman began admonishing the king, calling out his supposed biases and talking about the good things Keith had done for his kingdom, for its people. She questioned if he knew of his own son's accomplishments and asked indirectly if he was blind to reality. Normally somebody talking down to royalty like that would be cause to be thrown in a cell at best but the King was laughing on the inside. As he watched the young woman becoming more worked up and defiant a picture came to mind of another young woman, one who was ‘rude’ and with a questionable taste in friends.

Interesting…

The King stared at the young woman, emanating all the power and force that came naturally to true born kings through his gaze. The young woman didn't waver, instead she held his gaze. The most interesting thing though wasn't the woman's reactions but his sons.

“Prince Keith?”

Keith had moved to stand in front of the young lady protectively.

Very interesting…

“…Who is this rude woman?”

“You're the one who's rude, stop staring so nastily.”

“Keith, you do you think you're-”

“I'm talking to you, obviously. I won't let anyone threaten her, not even you."

Finally.

“She's…she's very special to me.”

Ahhh, well the apple didn't fall very far from the tree I see.

The King used the silence to briefly study the young lady, not bothering to hide his expression.

Yes yet…this does bring its own set of problems, but I wonder…just how much has she accomplished with you?

“I understood things clearly when I went to Rhodolite. I'm not very competent at all compared to the other princes. And without any sort of recognizable talent, I'm just a weed that can wield a sword.”

“Prince Keith.”

“...No, I guess there might be a few things I'm capable of.”

Really?

The King's internal question was not from lack of faith in his son as many may have believed, but rather from the fact his son had never believed in himself.

The young lady quickly spoke, extolling some of Keith's many virtues in her, and others, eyes while the king listened intently.

“I feel like the me I know and the me you know are entirely different people.”

“Thats just because you aren't aware of who you are.”

That's stating the obvious…

“But you know what my original duty was at the palace. I'm confident that I'm better at judging people than anyone you know.”

So that rumor was correct?

Along with Fernan's ‘creditable’ rumor of an arms deal between Rhodolite and Obsidian the King of Jade had heard another rumor, one from his own trusted spy about the death of a king and a new young noblewoman. He had sent his son to Rhodolite under the guise of the former but in the hopes that if the later rumor proved to be true perhaps Belle could teach him even the smallest thing about himself, repair enough of the damage he'd done in his misguided attempts to help his son survive.

That womanizer really is dead, can't say I'm sorry to hear it. He became such a disgrace…though I became no better really.

The King took no time for self pity and focused his keen gaze on his son. It was clear the effect the young lady's words had on him.

“I guess you're right. And if you're certain, I guess maybe I am the strongest weed there is.”

There is nothing more tenacious than a weed my son.

“After I met Emma, I started to re-examine myself, and I realized something.”

Outwardly the king showed no reaction but internally he was holding his breath.

“I love this kingdom, and its people, and the way it overflows with life and energy and nature. And that's the reason I've been able to stand tall as a prince all this time, no matter how much people curse me and tell me I'm a failure. If I let Fernan have his way here and now, the kingdom is going to fall into chaos.”

So you are aware of that much.

“The nobles and their selfish interests will be prioritized, and the weak will be oppressed by the powerful.”

As they are in other countries and as they were in this one long ago. That is a part of the cruelty of royalty, and one of the main reasons a King needs an abnormal strength to him. One can not afford to be too kind or lenient lest they be overrun from those closest to them.

“I can't let that happen to Jade. I love this kingdom too much for that.”

Those words settled in the King's chest, he too loved this kingdom but…

And what happens when you love something more than it, what then Keith?

The King thought of his children, of that fateful day…

Will you be able to make the necessary choices and sacrifices for it? Will you choose the kingdom over all else? I am much stronger than you and yet in the end I was willing to let it all fade away if needed to preserve what I love more…

“That's why I want to be the king. I can't let Fernan steal the throne away. And I can't stand the idea of being ruined by this absurd plot of his. This family conflict is pointless, and it's gone on for too many years, and I want to end it today.”

There are many things that are pointless when you rule a-

The King's thoughts were cut off as he was dragged to his feet by his collar.

“And most of all…You're my father before you're my king. I don't want to go through the pain of losing a family member ever again!”

The King stared at his son who stared back at him with a faint determination in his eyes he hadn't seen before.

Well you certainly have changed in your short time in Rhodolite, but is it enough?

The King continued to stare at his son pondering over his options when suddenly Keith released him.

“Emma!”

The King watched as Keith caught the young lady before she finished falling. Keith cradled her tenderly in his arms as he held her to his chest and a pang of longing passed through the King's heart.

“...That's why you can't go gulping down random medicine without asking about the side effects.”

With that tendency definitely do not leave her alone with Yule, the Gods only know what sort of trouble she'd cause with such a trusting guinea pig. That said…

“That has an extremely potent soporific effect. She certainly was quick to drink it down in one gulp, despite knowing it was experimental.”

“She did it for me, and for you. She's ridiculously kind.”

Just as you are. Hmmm…

“...Is she Rhodolitian?”

The King was already well aware she was just from listening when she spoke to Keith but he needed to know just how much his son had grown and this question would lead him there.

“That's right. She's here in Jade because one of Fernan's nobles kidnapped her.”

Oh yes just turn it all into an international incident dear brother! For somebody who's normally so intelligent that certainly was an idiotic move in more ways than one.

“...Why?”

“I just told you how special she is to me, didn't I?”

“So they wanted to use her to control you.”

“Most likely.”

At least you're aware of it.

The King watched as Keith gently leaned Emma against a wall and covered her with his cloak.

“And it wasn't just this once, either. She got caught up in this before, when they attacked my carriage while I was in Rhodolite.”

And it will not stop there I'm afraid, by gaining your favor her life is forever-

“I'm the one who selfishly went and fell in love with her. I'm not going to let that be the reason I lose her. Just this one, just once in my life, would you be willing to trust me, and listen to me?”

I'm glad to see you're finally thinking of everything ahead, and that you're willing to protect her so fiercely, to take some risks but…it's still not quite enough.

The King stared at the pouch that held his future within. His hands trembled, but not from weakness or fear, but from the hatred of himself for what he had an inkling he would do next.

If he's this resolute.

“...I told you, you can't prove a crime without evidence. There is evidence that you tried to assassinate me, but there is no evidence Fernan was involved.”

If you are going to do this you need to make sure you leave no room for doubt.

“Surely you can see that it makes sense for me to assume that everything you've told me is a lie.”

“If you want proof, then I need to find the location where he grew the poison that was used against you. And since there are rumors he's planning to sell the poison on the market, it would need to be a fairly large facility. However, just finding the location won't be enough to prove anything.”

So what exactly are you planning…

“He's cunning enough that he's probably forged paperwork to make it seem like someone else owns the place. So it won't be enough to prove his involvement. So again, it comes back to needing your help.”

I see, if we are thinking the same thing, that will likely work.

“Is that why you took such a risk to come here and see me?”

The King listened as Keith pleaded his case to him. His words, although not elegant, were heartfelt and the king could hear the conviction in them and it made the nearly dead hope in chest begin to stir again.

“I need to do it, to say farewell to the failure I was.”

You've come far my son, but not quite far enough. You will need to deal with much worse than this and I know you will hate me for what I'm about to do….

“On one condition.”

But if I can save all that I love, I will not hesitate.

Tag List: @fang-and-feather, @floydsteeth, @nani-nani-nani, @nightghoul381, @queengiuliettafirstlady. Special tag @notmyara, not gonna lie when I finished this I thought about how you might enjoy it.

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