#♧romance

[shmowder]

I’m not quite sure if you’ve played the marbles nest dlc yet but if you have….could I get some hcs for how marbles nest Daniil would be with a reader? Maybe even they’ve confessed their love for him randomly during one of the loops?

I always liked the concept of timeloops. Just when Daniil thinks he has seen and memorised everything, you go off-script and confess your feelings.

A tragedian Reader? Yeah I like the idea.

Death Is The Only Way Out

[ MN Daniil x Tragedian GN Reader ]

[ Angst with a happy end..kinda, Hurt/Comfort, Love confession, Romance, 4th wall breaks, Metafiction]

It was getting dull.

The same people stopping him in the same streets, delivering the same news.

Gleefully informing him of his failures, of his supposed dead status, of the Judge lifting quarantine and overruling any speck of authority the Bachelor may have held in this town.

- The Fifth Loop -

Dankovsky stopped listening to them by now

They've already said their useful piece time after time.

He already knows where to go, without being needlessly subjected to their sadistic gossip, vaguely disguised as concern for him.

…walking by the stillwaters, her voice still haunts him.

 - The Twentieth Loop - 

He finally came to  the bitter acceptance that there is no feasible way to prevent the vial of Panacea from breaking.

No matter how many instructions he gave to Cookaroo–the kid, even handing him his own snakeskin coat to use as a cushion for the fallen items.

It ended the same... except with broken glass embedded into his coat this time around. Neither could he possibly hide them from the guard outside.

Daniil even brought a water bottle with him just to swap its content with the Panacea, to hopefully sneak it outside this time around.

The guard confiscated it all the same, with the confidence of someone who witnessed him in the very act itself.

Daniil was sure he locked the door before he did. The walls must have eyes and ears, he concluded.

As he held the Panacea in his hand, pale blue eyes chided him from not having faith in him.

- The Twenty-sixth Loop -

It never gets easier.

Having to purposely fail as a doctor, having to go against his very own instinct at every turn and butcher the self-inflicted wound on the worm.

Failing at the very basics of the basic training granted to each student in their first year of medical school.

But after the first few times of being handed a still-warm human heart–bright red, freshly plucked from someone's chest, oozing blood from every vein and crevice–He decided to pick the lesser evil... or the one that doesn't test the endurance of his lurching stomach each time.

One death was mandatory to happen this day, he reckoned, one that must involve him as a participant.

Directly or else.

Both the worm and the Herb Bride chose to die, and both of them welcomed it. The blood on his hands is something he cannot change.

He can only choose whose.

To even call it a wedding, what a tasteless joke. What crude practices.

- The Forty-fifth Loop -

How idiotic of him to think that he even had a choice to begin with. The heart was mandatory. He learned it the hard way

All the days he wasted thinking he was sparing a life, saving someone's daughter from being butchered like cattle.

Letting a patient die in his own arms, killing him with the same medical tools meant to mend and heal.

Only for it to be the wrong choice after all.

Of course it was.

Of course, this rotten town will never be satisfied until his suffering reaches its maximum potential.

Of course, he couldn't even be granted this one mercy.

Daniil stopped looking in her direction afterwards. He couldn't stomach seeing her dance.

He just focused on sparing the worm's life, accepting his curses and insults without retaliation this time around. For part of them felt deserved.

What a grim wedding.

- The Fifty-seventh Loop -

One of the tragedians appeared in front of the cathedral earlier than expected.

Daniil didn't even have the heart yet to trade you with.

Just when he was about to inform you of that, he noticed something different, Your mask was cracked.

Sure, the tragedians' clothes were always worn with visible stitches, their masks covered in tiny scratches, the white colour eroding into grey with the constant wear and tear. 

But yours was indefinitely cracked. It wasn't anything small either but a major split.

"How does it stay in place?"

The question caught both of you off-guard as it slipped from his lips.

Daniil immediately regretted asking it, he doesn't have the time for this, you're not going to tell him anything useful, you're just here to insult him and rub salt into his wounds, just like that insufferable executer dwelling in-

"Fabric glue." You answered.

Oh.

Yeah, it makes sense.

His brain must be getting very stale if he couldn't figure this one out by himself.

Without another word, he turned around and went about his usual routine for this Saturday.

- The Fifty-eighth Loop -

You're here again... even earlier than last time.

Daniil approaches you with caution still, as if you're about to grow two heads or fizzle out into a plague cloud. Because of the off-chance that you might carry crucial information that could help him finally defeat death... he must prevail.

It feels odd, attempting to strike a conversation after so many loops of people just coming to him unannounced to voice their thoughts.

You're quieter than the other tragedians, less fidgety, too. You're not acting in place like a mime performance, nor are you standing ominously still like a statue.

You're simply... there.

Eerily human-like.

Sometimes, looking at the sky, other times stretching your limbs. Loitering, in summary.

"Why aren't you with your friends?" The question came out by his own agency this time around... although it was said with a hint of venom.

Daniil stood impatiently in front of you, as it took you a moment to realise he was addressing you and not one of the townsfolk.

"My friends?" The mask twitched, your expression must have changed underneath, the crack making its movement more pronounced, "I'm not sure who you're referring to..."

"The other actors, mimes, tragedians, whatever your group calls itself." The hostility in Daniil's tone simmered down at your casual demeanour.

"We're not really friends. Coworkers, more likely." 

Daniil gave you an expected look. You weren't sure what it meant… so you continued to elaborate on the subject.

"I mean, Anton's nice and all, he always brings an extra coffee for anyone who asks, but like I wouldn't say we've ever invited each other to a birthday party or something." You explained earnestly.

"No, that's not what I-" Daniil took a deep breath, "I meant to ask, why aren't you with them? What are you doing here so early?"

You faced him, and for a second, Daniil thought he glimpsed a pair of human eyes looking at him behind the dim fabric, veiling your face from underneath the mask.

The eye contact was cut short as you urgently turned your head away, refusing to meet his face again. Realising that he's still awaiting an answer, you simply shrugged.

"I see..." So you weren't here because of his actions or something he did during one of the loops... that's both relieving and frustrating at the same time.

Without another word, he turned around and went about his usual routine for this Saturday 

- The Fifty-ninth Loop -

Daniil didn't bother addressing the townsfolk gathering outside the grocery. Their praise fell on deaf ears as he pocketed the remaining change left over from pawning his pocket watch and hurried away.

Not only was your demeanour unusual, but the way you acted when you thought he wasn't looking as well.

Daniil felt your eyes following him as he trudged through the stone yard, facing away and feigning innocence whenever he'd abruptly stop and turn to catch you in the act.

At first, he was put off by it.

But the more he observed you from far away, the more he came to the blunt realisation that you were simply bored out of your mind, and he happened to be the only changing variable nearby.

That's why he decided to head towards the Committee first thing this time around. Informing them to unlock the nearby store.

The Bachelor wasn't sure why he's doing this.

Was it a vain attempt to gain some sort of benefits or information out of you that might aid him in this seemingly endless battle?

Or was it the fact you seemed to retain your memories through each reset just like him.

…maybe the fact these two conversations with you were the closest thing to normality he has experienced through this hopeless journey.

But he cannot trust you, not yet. 

For all he knows, you could be death itself, who found another way to taunt him through exploiting his ever growing loneliness in this fragment of reality, detached from the outer world, never ending, never growing, much like a bird stuck in a cage or a soul preserved in a peanut.

He should really stop humouring these kids; their wild imagination is starting to alter his thoughts and view on reality.

You're at your usual spot, in front of the cathedral is where he finds you. 

It seems that you've taken a liking to sitting at the far end of the stairs, than to aimlessly standing around.

Were your legs tired? he couldn't help but wonder.

The click of his bag opening caught your attention, Daniil reached into the safety of a pocket lining the inner walls, three coffee beans tucked in there.

The ones he freshly bought from the grocery a few minutes ago.

“Here.” He says, unceremoniously extending his hand to you, coffee beans sitting on his palm. 

Your expression is veiled beneath a layer of black fabric. The cracked mask–was the split always this big?–offers some leeway, however. Daniil can vaguely make out the shape of your nose, poking from underneath the fabric.

With initial hesitation, you opened your hand, feeling his gloved fingers carefully set the coffee beans atop yours one by one, rather than just dumping them all down.

It wasn't feasible to feel his skin beneath the thick layer of leather, but by the gods, did the tightness in your chest claim otherwise.

“I couldn't find a kettle or sugar, but I'm sure you'll figure something out.” Daniil retracted his hand, politely taking a step back–it just hit you how close he must have been–his tone devoid of any bitterness this time. “Was it Afton, right? the colleague who usually brought you coffee.”

“Anton,” you corrected him, still staring at the coffee beans in your palm with disbelief, “...thank you.”

“I…” Gratitude is definitely not what he was expecting. Daniil's eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing away, “it's nothing really.”

The smile on your lips, he couldn't see, neither the glimmer adorning your eyes as you admired this humble yet thoughtful act of kindness.

“Did you get out of your way to do this? you always order the Committee to just send more guards.” Your words made him pause in place.

The genuine surprise on Dankovsky's face was quickly masked away. He opened his mouth to speak before closing it, gears churning in his brain.

“Don't flatter yourself, I had my own reasons.” Daniil took another step back, spoke with a defensive tone “...you're more observant than you initially seemed, I didn't think anyone was keeping track, least of all the tragedians.”

It felt like the temperature dropped several degrees, the quaint atmosphere vanishing in an instant as his cold eyes sized you up and down.

“The game is rigged, isn't it?” He continued, not giving you a chance to speak. “You've indirectly confirmed my suspicions, just now. I'm under constant surveillance, aren't I? That's why that pesky guard couldn't be outsmarted.”

Whatever fragile resemblance of a friendship you two held was shattered by a mere slip of the tongue on your part.

“...yes.” It came out in a whisper, yet you were sure Daniil still heard it all the same.

Without another word, he turned around and went about his usual routine for this Saturday.

– The Sixtieth Loop –

He ignored you and went about his usual routine for this Saturday.

– The Sixty-first Loop –

He ignored you and went about his usual routine for this Saturday.

– The Sixty-second Loop –

He ignored you and went about his usual routine for this Saturday.

– The Sixty-third Loop –

He ignored you and went about his usual routine for this Saturday.

– The Sixty-eighth Loop –

He glanced in your direction as he exited the theatre, having just been informed of the execution of Dora and Marat. 

Their ashes remain on the ground.

– The Sixty-ninth Loop –

He ignored you and went about his usual routine for this Saturday.

– The Seventieth Loop – 

He ignored you and went about his usual routine for this Saturday.

– The Eightieth Loop –

He ignored you and went about his usual routine for this Saturday.

– The Ninetieth Loop –

He sat down beside you on the cathedral stairs.

Eyes sunken, a look of absolute defeat on his face.

You fidget with the three coffee beans in your hand, twirling them around with your fingers. Dankovsky watches.

“I would've told you if you had asked.” You quietly explain, “I never meant to trick you.”

A heavy weight falls on your shoulder, Daniil's body collapsing against your side. Face resting against your collarbone, his breathing ghosts over your neck.

The comforting weight of forgiveness.

“Then tell me.” He sounds beyond exhausted. You wonder how close his metre is to being filled. “How can I defeat death? And don't give me any of those vague answers your colleagues do each time, I want the plain truth.”

“You wouldn't like the truth.” Plague clouds flood the streets. Polluted air passes seamlessly through your lungs as you take a deep breath.

Daniil buries his face deeper into your neck, fearing a coughing fit if he dares to breathe too generously. “I can handle it, please just… spare me some dignity.”

“You can't win. You could never win. It was always rigged. Death is the only way out.”

“I refuse.” Even after all this time, nearly one-third of a year spent in the samsara, Daniil's determination never wavered, “there must be another way, I refuse to accept death.”

“Well…” Your mask splintered, chipping at the corners as the crack grew in size, “you could always stop playing this game.”

“You really think this is just a game? Do you realise the number of people residing in the stone yard? Whole families, kids, and elderly alike will not survive the infection if the plague makes it across the bridge.”

“It was always meant to be a stand-alone story, a demo for backers, a preview test of what's to come. It wasn't made with the thought in mind to become a full-fledged DLC down the line. It's too incomplete, too linear. The endings aren't satisfying either, and it constantly loops after each one.”

“Have you gone senile? Just what the hell are you talking about?” Daniil lifts his head to be able to face you, eyebrows scrunched together in a mix of frustration and confusion.

Your eyes glance down to his chapped lips.

With one of your hands–the one that's not carrying the precious gift he graced you with–you bring his hand upwards, coax his fingers under the edges of your mask.

All negative emotions vanish from his expression. Understanding your intentions, Daniil brings his other hand to the opposite side of your face.

The porcelain mask crumbles down into dust after he moves it less than an inch away.

The silhouette of a face is visible now underneath the fabric. He moves his fingers delicately across your features.

Caressing your cheeks with his thumb, trailing down your nose with the tip of his finger, brushing against your lips, memorising the shape of your upper eyelid

Staring into those very same eyes he briefly glimpsed that day.

“I've always loved you.” Your voice sounds clearer without the echo of the mask. Your vulnerability shines through.

Daniil stares at you with wide eyes, processing everything happening at an alarming speed, taking your words to heart.

Fear flashes through his eyes for a split second, fear of the fate which befalls those he cherishes. Clouding his brain into a fog, churning in his stomach akin to bitter venom.

Eva's voice rings in his ears, Artemy's eyes bore into his own.

Yet the taste of your lips brings him back to his senses, your soft mouth pressing against his own, a thin layer of fabric separating you two, preventing your realities from ever fully merging.

“I love you.” You repeat, “and I can't watch you suffer for much longer.” 

Daniil's arms envelope you.

“Please…” You whisper, cradling his face in your hands, “stop playing the game. That's the only way to win.”

He doesn't argue with you. He peers at you with morose acceptance.

With a final kiss to your temple, the world stops in place. The two of you akin to statues, frozen in that position, preserved for eternity.

The key to immortality.

A figure stares at their reflection on the screen. The pause menu is the only light illuminating the dim room.

Scrolling down to the last option, a confirmation window pops out, asking if you're sure you want to exit the game.

You press ‘Yes’

Greeted by the usual desktop screen on your computer, you glance at the clock in the corner of the taskbar. 

It's getting late, you think. You should head to bed soon.

The DLC was too short, and it was definitely not worth the price. You still find yourself recommending it when inquired about it in the future.

The mattress sinks under your weight, the covers weigh comfortably on top of you, the pillows cradle your head.

As your eyes flutter shut, your soul soars free. Drifting amidst the streams, a starless sky filled with dreams.

[poisonousquinzel]

I cannot get over the outfits Harley picked for them just like mwah mwah mwah 💞💖💞 high school AU harlivy 💖💞💖💞 my beloved

like look at her!!!

[sarahespacial]

[captain-joongz]

fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

♤ in pursuit of wedded bliss by @fantasyescapes17

regency au, each members has his own story, but they're interconnected

choi seungcheol

◇ push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow

camboy!seungcheol, ex's best friend!seungcheol, enemies to lovers

♧ down bad (so so bad) by @lovelyhan

idol!seungcheol x pet sitter!reader

☆ always only you by @honeyhotteoks

brother's best friend!seungcheol, friends to lovers

♤ caught in a trap by @cheolism

brother's best friend to lovers au

kim mingyu

☆ a sheep in wolf's clothing by @rubyreduji

virgin!mingyu x experienced reader

♤ creep by @smileysuh

serial killer!ghost!mingyu, touch starved!mingyu, halloween fic

ot8

◇ skz drabble by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy

a/b/o, cnc, primal play

♧ sharing = caring by @cbini

bf!chan sharing you

☆ camcorder by @tasteracha

bf!minho x reader x chan, a little pervy chan

♤ five for five by @bh-archive

chan x hyunjin x hongjoong x san x juyeon x reader

◇ some things are better left unknown by @roseykat

chan x felix x reader, threesome

lee minho

♧ dilf!minho by @cinhomi

dilf!minho x baby sitter!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy talk

bang chan

☆ bad idea by @hyunsvngs

step dad!chan, getting together, infidelity

hwang hyunjin

♤ dressing down by @jl-micasea-fics

best friends to lovers, mutual pining

lee felix

◇ best friend felix by @ddyskz

best friends to lovers, fluffy smut

♧ felix + thigh riding by @straykeedz

☆ cockwarming by @dreaming-medium

coworkers au, secretary!felix, office sex

ot7

♤ shadows we trust by @remedyx

supernatural au, mystical creatures!bts, dark circus au

◇ masked miracles by @remedyx

hybrid!bts, detective!reader

♧ stay alive by @staytinyville

mythical creatures!bts, supernatural au

☆ trouvaille by @spookyserenades

hybrid!bts, witch!reader, supernatural au, some horror themes

♤ eternally theirs by @imnotlauriane

dragon!bts, soulmates au, knights au

◇ the lucky seven by @riphobisbraces

hybrid!bts, princess!human!reader

♤ emerald gem by @sweetlyskz

hybrid!bts, reader has a farm, strangers to lovers

♧ oh, little red by @jincherie

wolf!yoongi x reader x wolf!jimin, red riding hood au

min yoongi

☆ celestial ruin by @remedyx

fallen angel!yoongi x angel!reader, corruption arc

♤ fxck a fxckboy by @yoongifis

fuckboy!yoongi x smartass!reader

kim taehyung

◇ isn't that what brothers do? by @aris-ink

step brother!taehyung, forbidden romance, dub con

♧ black swan by @aris-ink

step dad!taehyung, manipulation, corruption, cheating

☆new flame by @gimmethatagustd

alpha!taehyung x omega!reader, heat sex

jeon jungkook

♤ family secrets by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, dry humping

◇ icarus by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, risky/sneaky sex

♧ close by @aft3rhrs

step brother!jungkook, forbidden romance

choi soobin

☆ let's play a game by @anyamaris

soobin x reader x yeosang (ateez), friends to lovers, primal play

♤ closed doors by @last-words-ofashootingstar

soobin x reader x hongjoong, idol au, obsessed!soobin

◇ super shy! by @fairyofshampgyu

shy virgin baker!soobin x experienced reader

♧ i <3 nerds by @enha-cafe

nerdy!soobin secretly a sex god au

multiple members

☆ drippin' by @ncteez

'00 line x reader, friends to lovers, birthday orgy

♤ cookie jar by @neopuppy

step brothers!jeno and jaemin x reader, stuck in a dryer au

♧ sos by @neopuppy

a/b/o, sex pollen au, pollen induced heat/rut

lee jeno

☆ shameless by @neopuppy

step son!jeno x step mom!reader, infidelity, very dub con

♤ hand kink by @jaylaxies

roommates au, hand kink

lee mark

◇ i can help by @recklessmark

step dad!mark, corruption, manipulation, infidelity

ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 | pt. 2

[the-muppet-joker]

My Dark Divine

Author's Notes and Warnings: Kermit x Joker, psychological manipulation, toxic yaoi, dark romance, enemies to lovers

♤♡◇♧

Kermit took a long drag of his dainty yet masculine french cigarette and blew a cloud of spiraling smoke around his dark office, lit only by the yellowed streetlamp filtering in through the blinds. Or at least, it would be yellow if this did not take place in a black and white film noir esque setting. Kermit sighed. He longed for a life of color, of joy, of meaning, but ever since his costars on the Muppet Show had been ritualistically killed and Kermit had become a detective hellbent on finding the sick bastard who had done it, there was nothing but sorrow clouding his life. Kermit sighed.

Suddenly, the burst the door burst down! Oh no it's Joker, Kermit exclaimed! Kermit sighed and pulled out his gun. Joker was the guy committing crimes all over town, evading capture but seducing Kermit with his clown laugh all the same.

"It's over for you, frog," Joker chuckled darkly. He had a gun and a knife and Kermit swallowed in fear as his hole shivered in anticipation. Stop it, hole! Kermit thought to himself. This isn't the time!

Joker and Kermit lunged at one another, rivals, the criminal and the detective, natural enemies, punching and kicking and oh my god they're inside each other

Kermit moaned so loud, kissing Joker enthusiastically with his felt mouth. Is this what it felt like to live in a world with color? Behind his closed eyelids he saw explosions of green and purple and chaos and love and hate... all much more painful and vibrant than the monotonous grey his life had become. Joker was evil, this was wrong... but his hole begged to differ.

Wet and slopping, the cock of the clown squelched in and out and in and out of his forbidden muppet love.

"Kermit... fuck... I'm an evil guy, you know," he chuckled darkly and with lust.

"AH~ JOJER! I don't care you're just so hot~ mmm! Breed me my dark king..."

Kermit was an omega and his pheremones were going crazy. Joker growled and chuckled darkly and began to knot inside the muppet, causing him to wimper. The alpha and the muppet howled in pleasure as ropes of milky white cum gushed into the tender hole...

Just as Kermit finished cumming on Joker's member, he looked into his clown lover's acid green eyes and remembered: oh fuck. Those acid green eyes were staring at him the night all the muppets were slain...

Kermit gasped

Joker chuckled darkly

A clown's knot, a muppet's hole, a murderer revealed....

To be continued

[lady-embers]

Gwyn and Azriel in ACOSF

I figured I'd put together a little post of Gwyn and Azriel moments throughout ACOSF, outside the Azriel bonus chapter, so that others could see why us Gwynriels ship them without needing the bonus chapter.

These moments include looks that others notice or just them looking at each other, interactions of them together, and just moments I find foreshadowing for them.

Without further ado:

♧ Gwyn had been distracted today—one eye on the other side of the ring. Cassian could only assume she was watching his brother, who had given Gwyn a small smile of greeting upon arrival. Gwyn hadn’t returned it. - Chapter 39

♧ Gwyn let out a high-pitched noise that was nothing but pure excitement. Azriel, on the other side of the ring with the rest of the priestesses, half-turned at the sound, brows high. - Chapter 44

♧ He nodded to Gwyn and Emerie, the former glancing toward Azriel, who watched in silence.

“We slice the ribbon in two,” Emerie asked Gwyn warily, “and our training is complete?” Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer. She said, “I’m not entirely sure.” - Chapter 51

♧ Azriel had winnowed her and Cassian here after training, but hadn’t lingered. Apparently, Gwyn wanted him to go over dagger handling, so he’d left them with a promise to return in an hour. - Chapter 55

♧ Cassian glanced over at Az, but his attention was fixed on the young priestess, admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face. - Chapter 60

♧ Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved. - Chapter 60

♧ Azriel clapped his hands, and all the females straightened. “You’ll work in groups of three.”

Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?”

Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.”

Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.” - Chapter 60

♧ Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. “You have no idea what you just started,” she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway.

“Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?” Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. “You’re the new ribbon, Az.” - Chapter 60

♧ “There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,” Cassian said, voice thickening. “To Emerie and Gwyn.” The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. “You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.” - Chapter 68

♧ “Azriel slaughtered all of them within moments. He didn’t hesitate. But I could barely move, and when I tried to get up … He gave me his cloak and wrapped me in it." - Chapter 68

^That is confirmed by Cassian from Chapter 14 when he said “I heard that Mor had brought one in. Azriel was the one who made it out there first, and he killed any of the Hybern soldiers left, but by that point …”

While these scenes do not have romantic feelings or connotations, I would rather have Gwyn and Azriel romance built upon in their book, and there is potential from these scenes to have that happen.

Now, I might be forgetting some so if I have.... please leave a comment, or even reblog, with the scene 🥰

[thewrothode-if]

A historical low fantasy interactive fiction game set during the Viking Age.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on historical events, people, and places. Some locations and characters are fictional, while others are not.

You were born to a mother who went mad and a father who grew to hate you.

A quiet night erupted into chaos as your mother, possessed by a force unknown, attempted to kill you. Years later, with your father now Jarl, he orders you to investigate the eerie silence enveloping his settlement in England.

The more you learn, the bigger it all seems to be. More Viking settlements are targeted and you are the only one who seems to have any sense of stopping it.

All the while, the voices in your mind swell and surge, a relentless tide which threatens to envelop your very soul.

"S̵̛̻̼̻̝̺̠̞̟͙̈́h̴͖͉͎̥͓̺̣̽͜ë̶̡̤̠̪͖̖́̎̽̄̀̏̂̚’̵̨͖̱͘s̵̢̨͔͇̟̳̙̹̙̜̊̀͂͗̑͗ ̵͙̜͙̮̘͎̘̝̭̆͂̓h̴͇͋̓e̷̛͈̮̼̿̌̅͗͠r̸̪̃͒͘͝ě̸̂͌̈̓͂́͝ͅ.̷̨̛̩̦̩̟͌͒́̿̒͜͠"

Play as a male or female.

Romance four characters with one secret option.

Have any choice be considered romantic, even if it's as simple as a grunt.

Shape your viking’s personality and see how other's react when you switch it up.

Choose which god you will follow; Mímir, Magni, Hermóðr or ….?

Will you let it overtake you?

♢THYRA - THE COLD WARRIOR. [F] She is cold and relentless in her efforts to snub you, yet her presence always lingers about. She is what you would call a friend, even though she would refuse such a title. When she is forced to accompany you to England, she seems to change. Enemy-friends to lovers, [REDACTED], tsundere.

♧GUNGIR - THE JARL'S SECOND-HAND. [M] He’s a gentle giant, always trying to befriend you, but you hate him. He is the ‘son’ your father always wanted. Though he never says it outright, you see it in the way he offers him a love you would never receive. So you have vowed to the gods above that no kindness will ever be shown to him, at least, not from you. Enemies to lovers (one-sided), puppy love, forced proximity.

♤RAUD - THE [REDACTED]. [M] A childhood friend from your past. He was a soft and gentle child, but now he’s changed. He’s a [REDACTED] and he has all forgotten your past together. When he looks at you, it’s filled with the desire to [REDACTED], not with the fondness once held in his eyes. Childhood friends to ??? to lovers, amnesia.

♡ANNE - THE STRANGE BARD. [F] A strange and merry woman you met in England. She says she’s a simple bard, playing her lute any chance she gets. Yet when she begs to come along on your voyage, your mistrust of her is unwavering. Strangers to lovers, [REDACTED], sunshine love.

☆??? - ??? [M] ??? Forbidden love, huge red flag, dark secret.

____________________________ Demo - here Forum - here RO: intros - here

Word Count: Prologue: 21,936. Chapter 1: 95,506. Total: 117,442.

[h0c-if]

HOUSE OF CARDS: THE CRIMSON COURT is a character driven romance interactive fiction set in a realm that resembles earth. The story follow you, a noble from the kingdom of Argonia sent to the kingdom of your enemies in an arranged marriage, all in the name of peace.

This game depends and focus heavily on the component relationships, Complex Relationships, and choices.

MAIN-THEMES (GENRES): Court Intrigue, Romance, Historical Fiction, Drama.

SUB-THEMES: Family Saga, Revenge/Vengeance, Cultural Clash.

TAGS:  Betrayal, Manipulation, Assassinaution, Complex Family Relationship, Affairs, Arranged marriage, Discrimination.

War. The malevolent force that breeds corruption, inflicts pain, nurtures hate, and reaps death, casting a dark shadow upon all that is good. Can love find a way to bloom within its merciless grasp?

SUMMARY:

As fate would have it, you find yourself torn from familiar shores and thrust into the clutches of a kingdom that has long been embroiled in conflict with your homeland. And to further complicate matters, your partner in this arrangement is none other than the Commander of the enemy's fleets, a name that reverberates with terror throughout the land. Whispers of their ruthless prowess in the merciless ways they dismantles their foes, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake and etching a chilling image of their power.

As you journey towards your own path. Will you rise to the challenge and become a beacon of hope and peace, or will you succumb to the siren song of ambition and greed?

Only time will tell, as the fates of kingdoms hang in the balance.

Follow the story of the noble House Scion as they traverse the complex web of politics, alliances, and betrayals. Will they prove to be worthy, or will their own desires and flaws consume them, leading to the downfall of all they hold dear?

Immerse yourself in a richly detailed world inspired by historical fiction, where court intrigue and political machinations shape the destiny of nations:

As an influential figure, what kind of reputation do you want to build for yourself? And as a character, what personality will you adopt? Play as the dove of peace, a brutal iron fist, a sly snake, or a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Romance three main characters, each with their own relationship dynamics. Plus; a possible secret Ro: Experience a captivating romance that defies societal boundaries, or would you rather find yourself entangled in a forbidden love that challenges loyalties and tests the limits of your own heart.

A diverse cast of characters to build and form relationships: Deepen or sever relationships with a number of important characters and; betray, befriend, antagonise or kill.

Your choices will impact both your personality and the game's story: Make choices that will have far-reaching consequences, shaping the course of the story and influencing the fates of both individuals and empires. Interact with the world and discover who you truly are. Will you be able to forge a new future for yourself and those around you in the midst of this chaos?

There are always hands playing in the shadows. Play their game or make your own: Navigate a world filled with people striving to feed their own agendas. Engage in strategic alliances and tactical decisions, as you use your wits and cunning to navigate the dangerous waters of war and diplomacy.

ROMANCE TROPES: Love at First Sight. Fake relationship. Rebellious Love. Amour Fou (Mad Love). Domestic Affair OR Friends to lovers. Enemies to lovers. Forbidden Love.

THE COMMANDER [M/F]

ELISAE ROWAN DELACROIX:

Elisae is hailed as a war hero in Borgia. Born to the King's second sister, the Grand Duchess of the North, Elisae followed in their mother's footsteps and joined the war from a tender age. Their valor and strategic brilliance earned them numerous titles and led the kingdom to many victorious battles. They played a vital role in shaping Argonia's destiny.

[DESCRIPTION]: Elisae is a formidable presence with a commanding stature, standing tall at 6 feet. Their piercing grey eyes, sharp as steel, hold a depth of determination and wisdom. Their ebony hair, meticulously styled and slicked back, contrasting against their tanned skin.

Have you begun to devise a plan to melt the icy barrier encasing your spouse's heart? Or do you intend to shatter it into fragments?

DUCHESS/DUKE[F/M]

JADE MAXIMILLIAN WINTER:

Jade is a figure of grace and elegance. As the esteemed Duke/Duchess of House Winter, Jade's political stance differs from your spouse's, which created a strain in the relationship of the two childhood friends.

Renowned for their esteemed position among the nobles and loved for their charming and easygoing personality, Jade exudes an aura of refinement and unyielding confidence. Their presence commands attention, while their subtle gestures and expressions hint at a depth of emotions and hidden desires. With a captivating charm and an enigmatic aura, Jade leaves an indelible mark on those who cross their path.

[DESCRIPTION]: Jade's mesmerizing eyes, a striking melted honey color, exude an air of mystery and intelligence. Their ash hair, cascading in waves, complements their fair complexion, imbuing them with an ethereal allure.

But what does that flaming smile hide? Can you withstand the searing heat of their radiance and still dare to draw near?

THE ESCORT [F/M]

RAINE HAWTHORNE:

[ABOUT]: Raine is a figure of quiet strength. With a quiet confidence and a sense of duty ingrained in their every action, Raine emanates an aura of reliability and protection.

Raine is assigned as your escort by the House of Delacroix upon your arrival in Borgia, Raine appears indifferent, showing little interest in anything. However, when it comes to protecting you and ensuring your safety, Raine is unwaveringly dedicated.

[DESCRIPTION]: Raine stands at an average height. Their piercing green eyes, sharp and discerning, hold an intensity that mirrors the depths of their soul. Their chestnut hair, tousled and windswept, adds a touch of ruggedness to their appearance. Raine's bronze skin bears the faint marks of battles fought and hardships endured. As a guard, they possess a lean and agile physique, honed through years of training and dedication.

Beneath the stoic facade lies a well-guarded heart. Can you unravel the secrets that lie within Raine's enigmatic gaze?

[SECRET RO]

♧LINKS♧

DEMO TBA. ROs MASTERPOST.

THANK YOU!! FEEL FREE TO SEND YOUR ASKS!!

[lannasroleplaymemes]

Muse Relationship Dynamics

Send a symbol (or more than one) to indicate the type of relationship you think our Muses could have! Be sure to specify who is what role and name Muse(s) for Multimuses!

Biological/Adoptive Family 🍏 Parent/Guardian & Child 🍎 Step-Parent/Guardian & Step-child 🍐 Older/Younger Sibling 🍊 Stepsiblings 🍋 Twins 🍌 Cousins 🍉 Aunt/Uncle & Nephew/Niece 🍇Grandparent / Grandchild

Platonic 🐸 New/Developing Friendship 👶 Childhood Friends ▲ Best Friends ◆ Friends Of Circumstance ♫ Reluctant Friends ♠ Secret Friends ♝ Found Family ☔ Enemies To Friends ❤ Ex-Lovers To Friends 🔮 Queerplatonic 💋 Bad/Good Influence

Professional ◎ Classmates 🍸 Coworkers/Business Partners ✔️ Employer/Employee ❂ Teacher/Mentor & Student 💧 Roommates/Housemates 💃 Partners In Crime

Romantic€ Mutual Unknown Longing ➣ One-Sided Crush ♞ Unrequited Love ♔ One Night Stand 👠 Friends With Benefits 🌹 Long-Distance Relationship 📘 Newly Started Romance 💄 Boyfriends/Girlfriends/Partners 🌼 Fiancees 💘 Newlyweds 💍 Husbands/Wives/Spouses ✌ Soulmates ♊ Arranged Marriage 💀 Enemies To Lovers ♧ Friends To Lovers 🎩 Ex-Lovers 🎱 Exes Back To Lovers 🍛 Polyamorous Partners 🐞 Forbidden/Taboo Love

Tension/Dramatic 🎭 Frenemies/Fake Friends 🌸 Rivals 🐦 One-Sided Rivalry 🚦 Enemies 🍁 Betrayer/Betrayed 🛌 Unhealthy Exes € Friends To Enemies 💐 Lovers To Enemies 💦 Bully/Victim 🍭 Enemy-Of-A-Friend 🍗 Cheater/Cheated On ✤ Falling Out Of Love Ұ Dwindling Friendship

Strangers 🔴 Acquaintances 🟣 Idol/Superstar & Fan 🔵 Worker & Customer 🟢 Neighbors

[shmowder]

It's aro Daniil anon again :) I hope your weekend was good! I am here with a request that is not specifically aro (but could be)-- I'd love to see something with the reader trying to comfort Daniil postgame after the Polyhedron falls and he's stuck in the Town?

Thank you. Writing this was therapeutic. I wish I could've offered more, but that's all I had today. I hope you like it <3 And I'm glad to see you here again.

Mors Tua, Vita Mea

[ slight angst, comfort, hugging, can be romantic or platonic]

[Daniil Dankovsky x gn reader]

"They threw me here hoping that I'll never return, didn't they?" There's a quiver to his lips, frail sentences spoken with fragile tones. “I never had a chance to begin with, how naive I was to think…”

The same bachelor stood before you, the one who held ultimate authority over the town a week and a couple of days ago. passion-born speeches about the importance of figuring out the truth, doing everything he can since day one, going by the book and applying all that he has learnt in his long years of battling with death in this one showdown, truly exhausting the cards he has been dealt until nothing but desperate clenching fists remained.

Gazing at the river ahead, the beautiful view of cloudy skies and the thriving greenery of the steppe at the far back only dig deeper into the fresh open wound–be it yours or the earth's below–the now empty space where the polyhedron used to be is slowly fizzing out of your memory.

Not Daniil's, however, he's still tracing the invisible stairs with his eyes, counting the steps from what he could recall, every turn and twist, every blueprint etched into the wooden panels.

His face is soft. Ever since you've met him, it's the softest expression you've witnessed him wear. Or was it simply the mask that slipped down?

The raindrops hitting the top of your umbrella are reminiscent of a certian melody, nostalgic in nature, you feel like you've heard it before, as if you've stood witness here before, enough times to memorise the sound of rain's pattern on this exact same day.

He was drenched when you first found him, the bachelor of medicine, it must have been the rain which washed away the know-it-all facade he clung to like a security blanket at times.

For now, he's dried up a bit after you shielded him under your own umbrella. Standing in silence, he tried to give you an acknowledgement smile out of politeness, but the corners of his lips weighed down heavier than he could manage to lift them.

There are no winds to howl, no showering rain to taunt, no fireworks of celebration to mock. The apathy of the universe to stand indifferent to the suffering of those who were, of those who are, of those who will be.

“My life's work snuffed out from behind my back while I was none the wiser, working day and night to save this damned ungrateful town.” His gloved hand reaches to hold the handle of the umbrella just below yours, “They tore the research papers, burned the tissue samples, and destroyed the building whole. Thanatica is no more, and so is hope.”

What remained was a shell of a broken man, a hollow consolation trophy for humanity's failed attempt to outsmart death.

A reminder to mankind to remember your place. Or be dragged back into it, kicking, screaming, and beaten down.

You could tell him it's not the end; weave the most beautiful lie from the spindle of half-truths.

List every phrase and condolences messages you could remember, the same ones adults cooed your way when you were a mere child after your dog died, or the dismissing ones you received from teachers in the seventh grade fair when you came second place, or maybe the many unnervingly polite rejection letters delivered to your door by employers who happened to just find someone who fit better.

You could.

And so could he take the que and fix his mask back on, adhere to society's expectations of someone of his status.

He could.

You'll pull the trigger, and he'll follow along.

But you're, too, unbelievably tired of this prolonged song and dance the head ruling families in this town are obsessed with. The exhausting lies, the concealed truths, and the never-ending self-serving hidden motives behind every single word.

Letting go of the umbrella so he may continue to carry it instead, you move closer to him, holding his arm in your own.

“I know.” You whisper against his shoulder. You don't. How could you possibly understand? Do you even comprehend the meaning of his entire life purpose being swept aside, of being sent to his own death by his own legs, the most humiliating parade of failure for all of those who wished him harm to see.

Daniil pulls away.

Your heart sinks.

The deafening sound of rain pouring rings in your ears.

A single step, then another, and he's completely facing you with his back to the polyhedron. You get a good look at his glossy eyes, his damp hair, the crooked brooch on his cravat.

Then he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly as if you were his last lifeline. You're pressed to his chest, hidden under his coat as if he could hide you from being stolen away by death's claws if he just kept you there.

You don't have to understand to sympathise.

“I don't know what to do… where to go.” The two of you fit snugly under the umbrella with how close you're pressed to one another, you feel his heartbeat and he listens to yours.

He has lost the fight and lost his way. Dreams unravelled, not a single star left to guide him through the ocean he's aimlessly drifting in.

You hug him back, run your fingers through the wet strands of his hair in an attempt to soothe his heavy heart. “Away from this town for a start.”

That gets an unexpected laugh out of him, bittersweet and extremely short, more like an amused huff of air, to be precise. “Yes… far away.”

Yet he lingers in your embrace, and you don't make a move to pull away first. You let him collect his thoughts, wallow in his own sadness while you anchor him in reality.

Staring up ahead at the remains of the crumbled down structure, you wonder what it must have looked like as it fell down. You weren't there to see. You merely heard the sounds of the canons from across town. Broken symphonies, more likely, the doom weapons of humanity used to destroy the miracles of its creation.

The army didn't let anyone near until all the blood was collected. You wonder if the ground really did open up and bleed or was it a metaphorical statement.

No matter how hard you try, you can't spot a single spec of red on the spotless streets upfront. The rain must have washed it away, too. A cleansing shower for the entire town.

Yet the world does not feel anew.

Sinking into the warmth of Daniil's coat, you close your eyes.

No, it feels incredibly old, tiring, same story, different perspective.

You hoped to leave this town a better place than when you first found it, both of you tried really hard.

It seems like you've overestimated your abilities. How did Daniil put it again? Oh yeah, it was like spitting on a tower of flames, expecting, somehow, to put it out.

This place reeked of death.

Welcoming, ridiculing, taunting death. Hanging a carrot onto a stick and pulling the two of you along like fools.

The only way to win a game this rigged is to refuse to play.

You wonder if things could've been different, if in another lifetime the two of you are standing triumphant atop the tower, the jewel of humanity safe and sound.

This parasite of a town set ablaze instead.

No use dreaming of what could haves and what ifs.

A soothing breeze caresses your cheek, your eyes flutter open to the world ahead brighter with the clouds having dispersed. The pause between each rain droplet falling down grows more and more further apart.

Daniil closes the umbrella, and the sunrays fall upon the two of you like a warm blanket. He pulls away, offering his arm instead for you to hold.

“I need a drink. Would you care to keep me company?”

With a nod, you accept it.

A delicate smile graces his lips.

You'll build it, all that was destroyed, you'll salvage the fallen pieces and build it back together from the ground. Thanatica might be no more, but as long as death exists, so will hope in turn.

Humanity went through many hardships, backtracked on its own steps, and regressed before. Wings of wax gave way to prototypes of flying vehicles, and one day, they will conquer flight and manage to stay upright in the sky.

Who knows, maybe one day even the moon will be within reach.

As long as there is someone to die, the fight against death will remain alive.

Two ships sailing side by side in the aftermath of the storm, aligning their destinies, strings of fates intertwining, walking each other home.

He holds you tight.

And you keep him warm.

[embersofhope-if]

"On the 25th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes that who would represent it."

Twenty-five years have passed since the rebellion, yet the price is still being paid by the Districts. Even though most people alive today had no part in the fight, they suffer the consequences of the Capitol's anger. The harsh reality of the Capitol's cruelty is revealed every year on July 4th, Reaping Day. On this day, two children from each of the 12 districts are randomly chosen to fight to the death in an arena until only a lone victor remains. Parents hold their children close and hope it isn't their child who will be ripped away from them, knowing that there is nothing they can do to stop it.

However, this year is different. This year marks the very first Quarter Quell, and parents don't have to worry about whether their children might be taken away because, for this once-in-a-lifetime event, they get to choose who goes into the arena. But there's no doubt in anyone's mind who's going in when the mayor has a child of his own - me.

Now it's my turn to play a true game of life or death. May the odds be ever in my favor

Demo ☆ Playlist ☆ Pinterest

Customize your appearance (hair type and color, complexion, height, build, clothing)

Choose how you interact with the Capitol and those of your District

Form new relationships and change the ones you already have

Train in the weapon of your choice yes including a bow

Try not to die<3

17+. Content warnings for graphic violence, child death, child abuse/neglect, starvation, murder

Creon Levesque ♤ The Mentor ♤ RO ♤ 19

A special friend in very special places. I met Creon when you were 12 years old at a dinner party my Uncle Keyon had brought me to in the Capitol. Maybe it was the fact that I was very obviously District or maybe it was something else entirely, but from that night forward, Creon and I have had an intense and strange relationship. And now they stand before me assuring me that with them as a mentor, everything will be alright. How they managed to get themselves as a mentor they won't tell me, but honestly, in the end, does it matter?

♤Creon is gender selectable by the player♤

Romance Route: Red flag of all red flags, forbidden love, different worlds, insta love (at least on Creons part)

Aurelius/Aurelia Weaver ♧ The District Partner ♧ RO ♧ 18

My district partner. I don't know them that well, especially after they dropped out of school at 16 to work full-time in the factories. I'm not entirely sure what I did to them to warrant the looks of pure disgust and anger they throw my way after that, but now things have changed. They asked to be the other tribute for District 8, and now standing in front of them and looking into their eyes, all I can see is a predator looking at its prey. They are going to kill me, and they're going to enjoy it.

♧ Aurel is always the opposite gender of Mc ♧

Romance Route: Enemies to Lovers, Doomed Love, potential unrequited love, perhaps unrequited but actually requited love😏

Asher "Ash" Fairchild ♡ The Childhood Bestfriend ♡ 16

Ash was the first and only real friend I've had my entire life. They were practically the embodiment of everything good in the world. Everyone loved Ash, and when they had their name called for the 23rd reaping the shock and sorrow was felt throughout the entire District. Even walking up to the stage, they moved like a petal dancing through the wind. Their memory has haunted me every day for the past two years, and now I get to experience the same terror they felt in their final moments.

♡ There will be an option to be in a relationship with Ash before their games. Ash is also gender selectable by the player ♡

Romance Route: First love, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates

Soren Vesper ◇ The Mayor ◇ 46

The mayor of District 8, and my Father. A very stern man who prefers things to be done his way. I've never seen his mask of the harsh mayor who does everything the Capitol request ever break, that is until the announcement of the Quarter Quell. The change happened so fast that it scared me. A once mighty man who didn't care about the people of his district now begging them to choose anyone but his child to go into the games. At least I get to know my Father does care for me before I die.

Tribute and Other Profiles TBA

☆This is my second IF my main one is @shadowsofthegun-if if anyone is interested in being a goofy little cowboy and i have another IF @dustandshadows-if set in the world of the shadowhunter chronicles if anyone is interested in that as well. @konosadmaru is also my main if anyone wants to follow me on there☆

[a-court-of-mischief-and-madness]

Midnight revelations

Part 3--------Part 4

Summary: her wings had vanished ever since that night with the horrors encountered with tamlins father, only a person she feels true desire and passion for can invoke those wings. What happens when the person who does that is non other than eris vanserra?

Note: what's up guys, hope all of you are enjoying this series so far. If you have any suggestions for the next few chapters.. dw my requests are open!!! So ask awayy. Also if you want to enter the taglist please comment and let me now xx

Warnings: slight smut, romance, mentions of kissing!, angst and mentions of blood

As you stepped out of your room, the familiar corridors of the House of Wind stretched out before you, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. The events of the evening still weighed heavily on your mind, leaving you lost in thought as you made your way through the labyrinthine halls.

Lost in contemplation, you barely noticed the subtle shift in the air as you approached Amren's chambers. Her voice, sharp and commanding, pierced through your head, calling you to her side with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

Curiosity piqued, you hastened your steps, your heart pounding in anticipation of what awaited you behind closed doors. With each passing moment, the weight of the unknown grew heavier upon your shoulders, filling you with a sense of apprehension mingled with a glimmer of hope.

As you reached Amren's door and stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted, enveloping you in a sense of solemnity and reverence. Amren's piercing gaze met yours, her eyes holding a depth of knowledge that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You have wings of great power," Amren stated bluntly, her words cutting through the silence like a knife.

Caught off guard by her revelation, you struggled to find words to respond. "Had, you mean. what are you talking about? " you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper. You still felt them in you but you thought it was your brain's method of coping with the trauma. To make you think they were still there

Amren rose from her seat, her movements graceful yet purposeful. "Your wings, they disappeared that night when Tamlin's father attempted to clip them, not because of their weakness, but because of their strength," she explained, her gaze never leaving yours.

Amren's expression remained impassive as she rose from her seat, her movements deliberate and measured. "Your wings are special, perhaps the most powerful I've encountered in our realm," she explained, her tone grave yet tinged with a hint of awe.

The weight of her words settled heavily upon you as you tried to make sense of their significance. "Special?" you echoed, seeking clarification.

Amren nodded slowly, her gaze never wavering from yours. "They have the ability to reveal themselves only when you experience extreme passion and desire for someone," she revealed, her voice tinged with reverence.

The revelation sent a shockwave through you, the implications of her words sinking in. "Passion and desire..." you murmured, your mind racing with thoughts of Eris and the inexplicable pull you felt towards him.

she continued, her tone steady yet filled with warning. "Such power comes with great responsibility and consequences."

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling heavily upon your shoulders. "So they can be revealed at any moment, what should I do now?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Amren regarded you thoughtfully, her gaze softening ever so slightly. "Trust your instincts," she advised, her voice a mere whisper. "And be prepared for what may come."

With that, she returned to her seat, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the weight of her revelation. As you processed the implications of your wings and the connection they symbolized, you couldn't shake the feeling that your destiny was now inexorably intertwined with Eris, for better or for worse.

--------------------------♧--------------------------------

Amren's revelation about your wings left you stunned. The idea that your wings could only return through the touch of someone you had extreme passion and desire for was both thrilling and terrifying. You kept replaying Amren's words in your mind, trying to process the implications.

Over the next few weeks, the rest of the inner circle learned about Amren's discovery. Rhysand was cautious, hoping the person who could invoke such passion and desire in you was not someone dangerous. He knew all too well that strong emotions could cloud judgment, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

Then one evening, Rhysand invited Eris to dinner at the House of Wind to finalize an important agreement between the courts. The atmosphere was tense as everyone gathered in the grand dining hall. You chose a magnificently beautiful red dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. The fabric was a deep crimson, soft and luxurious, with a subtle sheen that caught the light just so. The neckline dipped low, hinting at the curves beneath, and the skirt flowed gracefully around your legs, pooling at your feet in a cascade of red.

You paired the dress with red lipstick, a bold shade that accentuated your lips and added to the allure of the ensemble. As you entered the dining hall, you could feel all eyes on you, but one pair of eyes, in particular, stood out.

Eris couldn't take his eyes off you the entire evening. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, as if he couldn't resist the allure you exuded in that dress. His eyes traced the curves of your body, lingering on the exposed skin of your shoulders and the dip of your neckline. Every movement you made seemed to captivate him, drawing his attention like a moth to a flame.

Azriel noticed, his sharp eyes picking up on Eris's fixation. Nesta leaned over and whispered in your ear, her voice teasing yet reassuring.

"He's eye-fucking you," Nesta murmured, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Relax, darling. Don't let it get to you."

You flushed at her bluntness but appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood. Rhysand seemed engrossed in the negotiations, but Feyre's suspicious glances didn't escape your notice.

After dinner, you retired to your room, thinking Eris had left, but you were startled when he appeared in your chamber. The atmosphere crackled with tension as he moved closer, his eyes smoldering with desire. You were in your nightgown, feeling exposed yet strangely exhilarated.

"What are you doing here?" The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, a mixture of surprise and apprehension lacing your tone.

Eris regarded you with an inscrutable expression, his gaze piercing as he took a step closer. "I came to see you," he replied simply, his voice low and measured.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of unease at his response, your instincts urging you to tread carefully in his presence. "At this hour?" you pressed, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions raging within you.

He offered you a small, enigmatic smile, his eyes holding yours in a steady gaze. "I couldn't stay away," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to make sense of his words, the conflicting emotions swirling within you making it difficult to think clearly. "Eris..." you began, unsure of what to say next.

As Eris approached, the air seemed to sizzle with the heat of his presence. His gaze, filled with an intensity that bordered on infernal, seared into yours, sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins. You could feel the warmth emanating from his very being, a stark contrast to the coolness of the room.

Eris stepped closer, his eyes roaming over you with an intimacy that made your breath catch. "I needed to see you," he murmured, his voice husky. His fingers brushed your face, trailing down to your hair, the touch electrifying.

Your back was bare in your nightgown, and when his warm hands slid down to your shoulders, a shiver ran through you. "Eris," you breathed, but he silenced you with a look.

His hands were warm against your cool skin, the fire within him contrasting with your own tension. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you feel it too?" he whispered.

Before you could respond, his hands moved lower, caressing your back. The touch was intimate, setting your nerves on fire. When his fingers brushed the base of your spine.

And then, in that moment of exquisite intimacy, your wings unfurled, bathed in the golden glow of his fiery touch. Eris's eyes widened in astonishment, the flames of his own power flickering in the depths of his gaze.

"You have wings," he breathed, his voice a low rumble, tinged with a mixture of awe and fascination.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find words, the heat of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. But before you could respond, Eris leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Secrets like this..." he murmured, his voice husky with desire, "they only make you more irresistible."

You panicked, forcing him to keep quiet about what had just happened. "You can't tell anyone," you demanded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Eris raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "And what will you do for me if I keep your secret?" he asked, his tone teasing.

You narrowed your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. "Name your price," you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Eris leaned closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "Oh, I'll think of something," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Just then Eris seemed to have winnowed away and before you could take in what just happened

Nesta entered the room, her eyes immediately fell upon your unfurled wings, their golden radiance filling the chamber with an otherworldly glow. Shock registered on her face as she took in the unexpected sight, her mouth opening to speak before she turned to you with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"What just happened?" Nesta's voice was incredulous, her eyes darting between you and the now empty space where Eris had stood moments before.

You struggled to find words, still reeling from the intensity of the moment. "He... he saw my wings," you managed to stammer out, your voice betraying a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

As Nesta's gaze lingered on your wings, her expression shifted from shock to a thoughtful understanding. "Your wings... they only come when you truly desire someone," she mused, her voice carrying a note of realization.

You swallowed hard, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks at her astute observation. "I..." You struggled to find the words, unsure how to articulate the conflicting emotions swirling within you.

Nesta's eyes met yours, her gaze unwavering. "You desire Eris," she stated matter-of-factly, her words hanging in the air with a weight that left you breathless.

The truth of her statement hit you like a bolt of lightning, stirring a whirlwind of emotions deep within your chest. You couldn't deny the undeniable pull you felt towards Eris, the magnetic attraction that seemed to defy reason and logic.

"I..." Your voice faltered, unable to deny the truth of her words.

Nesta's expression softened, her hand reaching out to grasp yours in a gesture of support. "It's okay," she said gently, her voice filled with understanding

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at her acceptance. "I hope the rest feel the same about it"

She offered you a reassuring smile before turning to leave, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the weight of her revelation. As you processed the implications of what she had said, you couldn't shake the feeling that your life had just become infinitely more complicated, with Eris at the center of it all.

----------------------------♧-----------------------------

The tension in the Night Court was palpable, and it seemed as though everyone was on edge after the recent events. You had barely settled into your room when there was a knock on the door. Before you could respond, Rhysand and Feyre entered, their faces a mixture of concern and curiosity.

Your heart raced as you instinctively turned to shield your golden wings from their view, but it was too late. Rhysand's eyes widened, and Feyre gasped, stepping closer.

"Your wings," Rhysand said, his voice low and urgent. "How did this happen?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "It's... complicated," you replied, avoiding their eyes.

Feyre stepped forward, her gaze soft but probing. "We need to know. This could change everything."

You hesitated, the memory of Eris's touch still fresh on your skin, his warmth lingering against your back. But you couldn't reveal his involvement. Not yet. "I don't know," you lied, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. "It just... happened."

Rhysand's eyes narrowed, suspicion and worry battling for dominance in his expression. "Are you sure?" he pressed.

You nodded, keeping your voice steady. "Yes. I'm sure."

Feyre placed a gentle hand on your arm, her eyes filled with understanding. "If you remember anything, or if something else happens, please tell us. We're here for you."

You managed a weak smile, grateful for their support but burdened by the secret you were now carrying. "I will," you promised, hoping they couldn't see through your facade.

Rhysand, however, wasn't satisfied. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "There's more to this, isn't there? I can sense it. You need to trust us."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "I trust you, Rhys," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I genuinely don't know how it happened. One moment they were gone, and the next... they were back."

Rhysand's eyes softened slightly, but the tension in his stance remained. "I want to believe you," he said quietly. "But if there's anything you're not telling us, it could put everyone at risk."

Your chest tightened at his words, the pressure of the situation nearly overwhelming. "I understand," you said, fighting to keep your voice steady. "And I promise, if I figure anything out, you'll be the first to know."

Rhysand studied you for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Alright. But remember, we're in this together. If you need anything, we're here."

Feyre squeezed your hand gently. "Take care of yourself. And don't be afraid to lean on us."

With that, they turned to leave, the door closing softly behind them. You let out a shaky breath, the burden of your secret pressing heavily on your shoulders.

-----------------------------♧---------------------------

As Eris stood with Lucien in the dimly lit study, the weight of his confession pressed heavily upon him. He couldn't keep it hidden any longer, not from his own brother, not when the truth gnawed at him every waking moment.

"Lucien," Eris began, his voice low and hesitant, "there's something I need to tell you."

Lucien's gaze met his, curiosity mingled with concern in his green eyes. "What is it, Eris?" he asked, his tone gentle yet expectant.

Eris took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "She's my mate," he confessed, the words heavy with significance.

In the depths of his mind, Eris was transported back to that fateful night—the night when he first laid eyes on her, and everything changed.

The grand hall was ablaze with light and music, a symphony of colors and sounds that seemed to dance around him as he entered. His gaze swept across the room, taking in the opulence of the event, until it landed on her.

She stood at the edge of the room, bathed in a halo of soft candlelight. Her violet eyes sparkled with intelligence and mischief, drawing him in with their magnetic allure. They were eyes that seemed to see right through him, to the very core of his being. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back like a river of midnight, the soft waves catching the light and shimmering with an ethereal glow. It framed her face perfectly, highlighting the delicate angles of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips, painted a deep, inviting red.

She wore a gown of deep blue, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that was both elegant and provocative. The bodice was intricately designed, hugging her slender waist and accentuating the swell of her hips. A daring slit ran up one side, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her long, shapely legs with each step she took. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at the soft curve of her breasts, leaving just enough to the imagination to drive him mad.

Eris's breath caught in his throat as he watched her, every fiber of his being drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her beauty was a siren's call, a magnetic force that pulled him in despite the danger it represented. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the golden thrum of the bond that pulsed between them.

He could feel the heat of her presence from across the room, a tantalizing warmth that wrapped around him and refused to let go. His thoughts became a whirlwind of desire and need, an all-consuming fire that burned through his veins and set his soul alight.

As she moved through the crowd, their eyes met, and he felt the world narrow down to just the two of them. The noise and chaos of the party faded into the background, leaving only the intensity of her gaze and the electric connection that sizzled between them.

In that moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to cross the distance between them, to take her in his arms and claim her as his own. He imagined the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips, the taste of her lips as he kissed her with a passion that had been building since the moment he first saw her. He longed to bury his hands in her hair, to pull her close and feel her body pressed against his, every curve and contour fitting perfectly against him.

He could almost feel the silk of her dress beneath his fingers, the warmth of her breath on his skin as she leaned in closer. His mind raced with thoughts of what it would be like to explore every inch of her, to lose himself in the depths of her eyes and the heat of her touch. The bond thrummed between them, a golden thread that tied their fates together and set his soul on fire.

But before he could act on those desires, he felt his father's gaze upon him. Beron, ever observant, had seen the change in him, the shift in his demeanor that betrayed the truth.

Their eyes locked across the room, and in that instant, Eris knew that his father had sensed it too. The knowledge hung between them like a heavy shroud, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that bound them together.

And as Eris stood frozen in place, his father's knowing gaze bore into him, his expression unreadable yet filled with a silent warning. It was a warning that echoed in the depths of Eris's soul, a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows.

But despite the fear and uncertainty that threatened to consume him, one thing remained clear: he would do whatever it took to protect her, his mate, from the darkness that loomed on the horizon. For she was his light, his salvation, and he would move heaven and earth to keep her safe.

Lucien's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression mirroring the shock that coursed through Eris's veins. "Your mate?" he echoed, disbelief coloring his voice.

Eris nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "I've felt it—the golden thrum, the string in my heart—since the day of the reunion party," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucien's eyes widened in realization, comprehension dawning on his features. "That's why..." he trailed off, his thoughts racing as he connected the dots.

Eris nodded, relief flooding through him at having finally shared the truth with his brother. "I couldn't deny it any longer," he confessed, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Lucien placed a reassuring hand on Eris's shoulder, a silent gesture of support. "It changes things," he acknowledged, his voice filled with understanding.

Eris sighed deeply, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him once more. "It feels like it can never happen," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "Rhysand is her brother, and she can never be disloyal to her family. She would never forgive herself."

Lucien's expression softened with empathy. "That's a difficult position," he agreed quietly. "Family ties run deep."

Eris nodded, his jaw tightening. "And it gets worse," he added, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Our father found out about the bond. He told me to use it to get information out of her."

Eris's mind drifted further back to a darker memory, one that had left a scar deeper than any physical wound. It was the night after the grand event, the night he realized the full extent of his father's cruelty.

He had returned to the Autumn Court, the golden thrumming bond still pulsing within him, a beacon of both hope and fear. But as he entered his father’s study, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Beron's eyes gleamed with a malevolent light, and the air was thick with tension.

"Sit down, Eris," Beron commanded, his voice a dangerous whisper. Eris obeyed, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew his father well enough to recognize the signs of impending violence.

Beron leaned forward, his eyes boring into Eris's. "I saw the way you looked at her," he hissed. "The way you reacted. She's your mate, isn't she?"

Eris didn't answer, but the flicker of emotion in his eyes gave him away. Beron’s lips curled into a predatory smile. "Good. This can be useful."

Eris's stomach churned with dread. "Useful how?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Beron stood and walked around the desk, his movements slow and deliberate. "You will use her," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Get close to her. Learn her secrets, her weaknesses. Bring that information to me. We will exploit her to undermine Rhysand and his Court."

Eris's blood ran cold. "I won't do it," he said through gritted teeth. "She's my mate. I won't betray her."

Beron's expression darkened. In a flash, he grabbed Eris by the collar and slammed him against the wall, a wickedly sharp knife appearing in his hand. He pressed the blade to Eris's throat, the cold metal biting into his skin.

"You don't have a choice," Beron snarled. "If you defy me, if you refuse to do as I command, I will make sure your mother suffers. I will hurt her in ways you cannot fathom."

Eris's breath caught in his throat, his mind racing with fear and fury. His mother—his gentle, loving mother—was the only person who had ever shown him kindness in this pit of vipers. The thought of her in pain, suffering because of him, was unbearable.

Beron pressed the knife harder, drawing a thin line of blood. "Do you understand me, Eris?" he demanded, his voice a venomous whisper.

Eris nodded, the movement barely perceptible. "I understand," he whispered back, his voice hollow with despair.

Beron released him, stepping back with a satisfied smile. "Good. Remember, Eris, you are a pawn in a much larger game. And you will play your part, or you will watch everything you care about burn."

As Eris watched his father turn away, the weight of his predicament settled heavily on his shoulders. He was trapped, bound by a cruel choice that tore at his very soul. To protect his mother, he would have to betray the woman who was his destined mate, the woman he was already falling for.

That night, as he lay in his bed, the golden thrum of the bond felt like a chain around his heart, a reminder of the impossible situation he was in. And in the darkness, he vowed to find a way to protect both his mother and his mate, no matter the cost

Lucien's eyes darkened with anger. "Beron," he spat, the name a curse on his lips. "That bastard."

Eris clenched his fists, a mixture of rage and helplessness roiling within him. "I can't do it," he said fiercely. "I won't use her like that. But if I refuse, he'll know something's wrong."

Lucien squeezed Eris's shoulder in affirmation, a silent promise passing between them. "We'll figure this out," he said firmly. "Together, but for now you need to stay away from her as much as you can, I know you feel extremely provocative but father is very brutal and if he touches her you wouldn't be able to do anything eris."

---------------------------♧-------------------------------

Later that night, Eris received a summons from his father, Beron, the High Lord of the Autumn Court. Dread coiled in the pit of his stomach as he made his way to his father's chambers, knowing that Beron's demands were rarely benign.

As he entered the dimly lit room, Beron's imposing figure loomed over him, his eyes sharp and calculating. "Eris," he greeted, his voice dripping with a deceptive warmth that made Eris's skin crawl.

"What do you need, Father?" Eris asked, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the unease gnawing at him.

Beron's lips curled into a cruel smile. "I want to know how your little mission is progressing," he said, his voice laced with thinly veiled menace.

Eris swallowed hard, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a convincing lie. "It's... progressing," he hedged, careful to keep his thoughts guarded.

Beron's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing through Eris's defenses with unnerving precision. "Don't play games with me, Eris," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to know if you've made any progress with her. Have you gained her trust? Learned her secrets?"

Eris felt a surge of panic clawing at his chest. He couldn't let his father see the truth, couldn't let him know about the wings. This was the only thing he had left that were truly his own, and he would protect it at all costs.

"I'm working on it," Eris replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "But these things take time. I can't rush it."

Beron's expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. "Time is a luxury we don't have, Eris," he snapped, his tone turning icy. "I need results, and I need them now."

Eris clenched his jaw, his mind racing for a way out of this impossible situation. He couldn't risk his father discovering the truth, couldn't bear to see the look of triumph in Beron's eyes when he realized the power that lay dormant within Eris's mate.

But despite his best efforts to hide it, Beron's High Lord power was too formidable to evade. With a surge of energy, Beron reached into Eris's mind, probing for the secrets he sought.

Eris fought against the intrusion, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of resistance. But despite his efforts, he couldn't keep Beron out completely. And in a horrifying moment of realization, he knew that his father had seen it—the memory of the golden wings, hidden away in the depths of his mind.

Beron's eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity, a hunger for power burning within them. "Well, well, well," he murmured, a twisted smile spreading across his lips. "It seems you've been holding out on me, Eris."

Eris's heart sank as he realized the magnitude of his mistake. He had inadvertently revealed his most closely guarded secret, and now his father would stop at nothing to claim what he desired.

Beron's gaze locked onto Eris's, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Those wings," he said, his voice filled with a dangerous excitement, "they are the key to everything. And now that I know they exist, I will stop at nothing to make them mine."

Fear clenched at Eris's heart as he watched his father, knowing that Beron's obsession with power knew no bounds. And as Beron's plans began to unfold, Eris knew that he would have to tread carefully if he hoped to protect both his mate and himself from the ruthless ambitions of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @sunny1616 @blackgirlmagicforever

[veenus777]

◜Quackity Boyfriend Headcanons◞

┊ ᝰ﹕SFW, gender neutral reader, English from Google Translate

♤ This man is very proud to date you! He wouldn't miss an opportunity to say "hey see that person, because they are my partner", and I don't judge after all most people would never imagine that Quackity would find a partner.

♧ He would take you on all his trips, even if they were for work, and would always find space in his schedule for outings and romantic dates.

♤ Speaking of romance, this man is the last romantic on earth! He would buy you flowers, open the car door, pay the bill and praise you all the time, change my mind!!

♧ About paying for things, he would make a point of paying for absolutely everything for you, after all he came from a humble family and now that he has the means he likes to be able to give you everything you want, and he would never charge you for it.

♤ Do you like branded clothes and jewelry? Great you will have.

♧ Everyone knows that Alex loves to drive and that means long car trips wherever he goes and you will be the princess passenger.

♤ off stream game nights with just cozy games or board games alongside a nice bottle of wine.

♧ Random dates, ranging from escape rooms to a pottery class or just a night assembling legos.

♤ strange and funny couple photos, he would also have a whole album on his cell phone with photos of you distracted.

♧ You would be the funny couple, the type who posts weird photos imitating memes like this on your feed:

♤ He would be your biggest fan and support you in everything, he would do everything in his power to help like if you want to study something or just start a new hobby.

♧ He is the type to show love with physical touch, he loves to hug, cuddle or just hold hands.

♤ He would show you his culture, be it Spanish words, music, food and also take you to visit Mexico.

♧ If you are also from another country, he would love to know everything about it and would make an effort to learn the language (if not English or Spanish) and would also visit.

♤ I feel like he would be a little insecure, he thinks he doesn't deserve you and that you are too much for him, so be kind to this man he is just a baby!!

♧ He would invite you to the QSMP, if you are a content creator, but even if you are not, he would place you as one of the administrators or one of the eggs.

♤ You would know the entire QSMP plot and he would ask for your opinion and ideas for the lore (if you don't participate).

♧ You're the only person he lets see him without his hat.

♤ flirting and stupid pickup lines over text messages, and if you live far away from each other you would spend 24/7 on FaceTime.

♧ Affectionate nicknames in Spanish such as Mi Corazon, Mi Amor, Mi Princesa or Mi alma.

♤ You would wear matching robes to events or on dates, he would probably have an "I Love My Girlfriend/Boyfriend" t-shirt with your picture on it that he would wear at every opportunity.

♧ You would probably be one of those people in the future who say "I'll talk to my husband, he's a lawyer".

.˚｡  💋 .˚｡ 💌

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

hello! a little fic request I’ve been thinking on, not pressuring you to write it or anything, just wanted to share.

the y/n is a hot tempered foreign princess who got married to Baldwin when they were both children. she’s very energetic, straightforward, man-like in her character, but has to adapt to fit in the court of Jerusalem and also to „suit” her husband’s calm manner and the fact that he’s ill doesn’t help.

she’s unhappy about it; maybe even tears a little during the wedding, but doesn’t let anyone to think she may be vulnerable (mostly because she understand that that can be used against her in the future after Baldwin dies). but over the time she finds herself drawn to Baldwin because, well, unlike her teachers, he lets her study and play chess with him. he cares about her desires and interests. he also respects her, not just like a woman but as a friend, and a clever one. maybe some of her advice on the politics is used by him at some point (which would be absolutely unrealistic, but really, we’re talking historical romance with a leper king here…). a cute detail would be him gifting her a weapon of some sort to protect herself because he knows how she doesn’t like being treated like she’s helpless. bonus points if he says something romantic and or pathos’y about it.

did I write this whole oc story as a multiple chapter fanfiction in my head? yes, I did. am I going to finish it? absolutely no. but I’d love to read your interpretation!

♧ "Princess" - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon! So sorry for taking so long to write this, ive had so many requests. I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind but it was my interpretation and I hope you like it! I dont really like how it turned out as your request had so much detail and my writing does that no justice, but I hope its okay ☺️! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figgures. This is also set pre-film. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy

At thirteen years old, marriage was the last thing on young y/n’s mind. But yet, here she was. Soon to arrive in the city of Jerusalem, to be wed to a boy she had only ever met a handful of times.

Baldwin the fourth. The leper, who's mother just so happend to be ready to find him a wife at the same time her father was ready to find her a husband.

She sat in silence for the entire journey, this was uncommon for her. She usually always had something interesting to say or something to observe with curiosity. But as per request by her father, from now on she “had to act like a proper lady. No more of this ridiculous 'masculine' behavior”.

“You will be wed to a king y/n” he had told her. “You must stop acting the way you do. No king will be allowed such behavior from his wife”. 

Her attempt to keep to herself for the journey had been successful so far. She remained silent and still. Just as her mother taught her. “Just how a lady should be”. 

As the city came into view, y/n felt tears begin to burn her eyes. She would never again be allowed to explore the wilderness on her fathers land, or read every book she was allowed to have from the library. She surrendered herself to a life of boredom and suppression. 

Once exiting the carriage, she was greeted by the royal officials as well as the king's mother.

“I am so pleased to finally meet you young lady" she greeted her with a smile "you shall make a fine wife for my son” . Y/n thanked her and was ushered off quickly to prepare her for the hour of the wedding.

Y/n held back tears as servants worked busily around the room. Dressing her in beautiful garments, jewelry, and makeup. She was distraught. But she dare not cry. They could not see her so weak.

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

The events proceeded and y/n barely even looked at the boy she was marrying. She could not bring herself to make eye contact with the man who would rule her life forever.

They told her to smile. “No man wants to see a lady disappointed on her wedding day” the king's mother had told her before they entered the church.

Baldwin himself was nervous about this day but just enthusiastic. Unlike y/n, he was looking forward to being wed to a young woman. He did not want just a wife to serve him, but a companion too. Someone who he could speak to about all kinds of things. Someone who would love him as much as he loved them. When he saw her, she looked beautiful, but sad. Very sad.

He hoped she was not sad about marrying him. Perhaps his illness deterred her from wanting to even be near him.

But she was still beautiful. She was 14, just like him. He could not take his eyes off her. He had met her a few times before, and she interested him deeply, even though they barely spoke. He more so just watched her play and talk with the other young people from his bedroom chamber window, longing to join them if it was not for his illness.

She played more with the young boys than she did with the girls. Always full of energy and life, always talking and laughing. But now, she looked different. As if the light had been drained from her. 

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

When the wedding was over, the young king and queen got acquainted in the boy's chambers. She still seemed very quiet and unsure about his presence.

“Are you alright?” He asked her the second they were alone. “Yes your highness” she replied in a small voice, very different to the excitable tone she used to have. She sighed and lowered herself onto the small couch, turning away from him to look at her hands.

Baldwin thought for a moment, but then remembered that his mother requested he chose a wedding gift to present her after the affairs.

“I have a gift for you,” he said happily, lightening the mood.

He noticed her eyes light up a little at the comment. “You do?”

“Yes, would you like to see it?”

Y/n nodded excitedly, a smile forming on her face for the first time all day. The boy stood and disappeared behind the red, satin curtains that covered the large windows. He returned a few seconds later with something behind his back and a wide smile.

"I had to hide it, so my mother did not see what I chose for you" he explained. This peeked y/n's intrest greatly.

“Alright, close your eyes, '' he told her, the smile still plastered to his face. Y/n shut her eyes with anticipation. When he told her to open her eyes, she was lost for words. In the young king's bandaged hands, he held a shining silver sword with a pale pink ribbon tied around the handle.

Her eyes widened and stared at the sword for a long time before taking it in her hands to admire it. “Do you like it?” he asked, cautiously, hoping he had not offended her.

“Baldwin.. I love it!!” she exclaimed with a grin, jumping to her feet and wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. The smile returned to his face and he put his arms around her waist.

“Now you can defend yourself my love. No wife of mine will be left vulnerable, even if there are men to protect her. She will defend herself, because she is strong.” His words filled the queen with happiness and hope. Perhaps her father was wrong after all and she could remain as herself. At least in the presence of her husband. 

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

From that day on, they were inseparable. Unlike y/n’s tutors and parents, he allowed her access to his entire private library so they could study and read together. He allowed her time to herself, so she could do the things she loved without anybody telling her how to behave.

He quite often went as far as to seek her out for advice on political issues, not allowing her straightforward intelligence to go to waste.

Overtime, y/n became used to her duties as queen, but as much as she learnt to fit the role, she treasured her time alone with Baldwin. He cared about her interests, her desires. He respected her, more than anyone else ever had. They played chess together as well, each game being a delightful battle of the mind.

He saw her as not just a wife, but as a companion and an intelligent one at that. And for this, she would be forever greatful.

[thegoldenavenger]

Who's gonna write me the Liu Qingge / Shen Jiu kismessitude I deserve. That they deserve. Come on fated rivalry romance for the ages.

Liu "Stop sullying yourself you're better than that" Qingge. Liu "You could be so great if you worked on your cultivation" Qingge. Liu "I've never lost a fight but I still want to fight you" Qingge. Liu "give him a shred of kindness and he'll return it two fold" QINGGE

Vs

Shen "you're everything I wish I was" Jui. Shen "you've never once experienced something you cant recover from" Jiu. Shen "ambushes you even though ive got no chance of winning" Jiu. Shen "I hate you I'll kill you, I won't just leave you to die on your own by yourself even if it condemns me" JIU

Like???????? They loathe each other your honor. To the death.

(Yue Qingyuan, world's least effective and most annoying club. Yue Qingyuan, world's most vacillating quadrant smear, he might as well be club lights for how quickly he swaps between ♧ and ◇ and ♡ for shen qingqiu)

(yqy who is the one who TOLD sqq to treat lqg kindly. To get him on sqq's side. Yqy who wanted to slip the (metaphorical) hilt of lqg's (metaphorical) sword in sqq's hand. To watch sqq weild lqg like a weapon instead of fight against each other.)

(Liu Qingge dying destroys Shen Qingqiu's life in a way not even YQY's does? Lqg dying is what dooms sqq. It is the pin on which his whole trial rests. Sqq couldn't save him, and in the end couldn't, wouldnt, save himself either. What is that if not soul mates in hate!!!????)

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 23

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: The Wrath Of The Gods

Notes: /

Warnings: !Grief!. !Violence!. Torture. !Sexual Assault!. !Rape Threat!. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter:  23/ It’s a secret.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Lancelot fell over on his side. Your body caved in at the sight of it happening, “No! Please, no!!!”

The Hidden’s enraged voices took over all sound.

You fought to get to him before it was too late to save him with your magic, the Brothers used their combined strength to keep you on the floor.

They forced you to watch him suffer, blood streamed out of his chest fast and began to pool under him.

The many times you had screamed out his name were countless, it was like being in a haze.

It took longer for Lancelot to die than the others, and by the time it was over you sat defeated and drained on the cold tile floor. Your vision was blurred completely by the tears.

This was the Reaper’s way of motivating.

Soran was saying something, you heard not a word of what it was.

Your eyes did not move away from the Ash Man, your friend, that had met a cruel end.

Only when the Reaper knelt down in front of you did you hear, “Bring him back.”

You spat in his face in response.

Soran held back his anger and rose to his feet. “Unhand her.”

The Brothers let go off you immediately at his command.

Soran coldly said, “Change his fate. Or will you leave him to rot?”

With the shock going through your body, you did not trust your legs. You crawled to Lancelot, your knees were in the blood when you got to his side. “Lancelot…”

The leaf pattern that had risen to the surface of his neck, no longer looked green, they looked withered like leaves who had abandoned their tree long ago. A sob cruelly forced it’s why out of you at the sight of it, you couldn’t stop them from flowing out of you anymore, the agony had taken hold on your body in the worst way.

Soran had left the knife where it was, a cruel act.

You could not heal a person when a weapon was still in their heart, the Reaper must have known this.

It forced you to remove the knife from Lancelot’s heart, and doing so was the most awful thing.

The knife fell from your hands, you didn’t want to touch it ever again.

“I am so sorry.” You sobbed and touched his cheek.

It was testing the Reaper’s patience it seemed. “Stop wasting time!”

You felt physically ill, it did not stop you from cupping Lancelot’s face and quietly begging the Hidden for help. “Please… hear my plea… give me your strength.” The green glow overtook your eyes, “And I will be your summoner.”

The Hidden’s power surged through your veins at the offer and it felt almost too strong to bear.

This magic felt wrong, like the Old Gods themselves gave it to you with great reluctance.

Still, you selfishly took it from them. If they decide to punish you for it, so be it.

Your head began to hurt, and as the pain increased blood came from your nose.

Your vision blurred until all you saw was green and all you heard were the Hidden.

The Old Gods had accepted you as their summoner and took control, proving how powerful they could be.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

The cold that enveloped you in the cell had you jolt back into consciousness.

Inside the cell it was dark and it only added to your disorientation. You tried to get up and your legs gave up immediately.

Gods… you were tired.

It felt like you had been trampled over by a horse. You crawled to the bars and held on to one. What had happened after you had lost control to the Hidden? Had they made you do the impossible? One thing was for certain, it had drained you.

An attempt to call out Lancelot’s name failed miserably, your voice was both too weak and too strained, his name changed into air instead of a word because of it.

Your throat hurt and your trousers were covered in blood. His blood…

They had left a meal for you, the soup was still warm. The grief made it difficult to swallow a sip of soup to fix your sore throat.

You drank some, no longer caring if it contained poison, you needed to catch your strength and the warm soup helped your throat.

When you called out for Lancelot, louder this time, you waited for a reply.

The wait lasted and you had never felt so alone. You put the soup down and knocked it over on purpose.

It was as if your body had shut down, there was no hunger or thirst anymore. There was no point to drinking soup to fix your throat if there was no one there to hear your call, at least no one that you cared about.

The Ash Man’s death was numbing.

The only feeling truly registering was of the cold iron bars against the side of your face.

You had not even heard them enter the dungeon and only noticed them when the group of Brothers stood outside your cell.

“She’s finally awake. Soran will be pleased.” These bastards sounded happy to find you alive. Even though they had left you in a cold dark cell unconscious.

The cell door was opened, and you were still too weak to get up off the floor.

It took two of them to tie your wrists and drag you out of the dungeon whilst the others helped.

They weren’t taking you to the dinning hall, it took too long and the route was different.

They opened the door to a bedchamber, the carpet flooring was softer to sit on when they left you there and locked the door. They didn’t even bother to help you sit on the bed, you sat on the floor, looking at it.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when the Reaper walked into the room, your mind was elsewhere.

He spoke his usual madness. “We control the balance of life and death.”

Your thoughts slowly returned to you, “What?”

Soran kept a small distance. “The Weeping Monk is alive.”

Your eyes snapped to him, it didn’t feel real, was he even telling the truth?

Your question was sharp, “Where is he?”

He was deliberately vague. “We are keeping him somewhere else right now to see how well your magic has worked.”

You tried to get up from the floor and managed to do so by using one of the bed posts as support. “I want to see him!”

Soran had not expected the news to fuel you so. “I was right to believe in the legend of the Dawn Folk.”

You hated that he had been right. “This is wrong!”

He stepped closer, hand close to a knife on his belt, “Did you consider it wrong when you brought the Monk back from the dead? No. You are willing to defy the odds if it serves your purpose, just like I am.”

How dared he compare himself to you?!

You were tired of his blatant attempts to try and get you to join his cause. “I will not damn my people for you! The Hidden gave me the power to save a Fey. They make it no secret that they are the gods of the Fey and not of Manbloods. This sort of magic is against the rules of nature itself!”

Soran knew how weak you were after such use of your powers, he took the opportunity to get physically closer. “ In a few decades, a new Brotherhood will be born of the Dawn Folk. Half-bloods, but your legacy will spread and bring victory to the Church. My warrior blood, mixed with yours.”

It was the final insult to your clan, for them to become what had caused their erasure. He would turn them into murderous monsters, they would be able to heal and bring each other back from the dead, an enemy to be feared. Even one Dawn Folk child would be enough to heal the Brothers for years to come and ensure that the Brotherhood grows in power.

He continued to try and act like this was normal. To try and… charm you? Did he truly think you could ever fall in love with him??

He tried to caress your cheek and you quickly moved away, using the bed as support.

You tried to get that idea of of his head before it lead to trouble. “The Church will never accept Feys as allies!”

Soran was unwavering in his belief. “You saw how Father Carden used his Weeping Monk, his name is feared among the Fey. Not even the Holy Father will disapprove when the Dawn Folk rises to bring us glory. The Brotherhood will be undefeatable, Dawn Folk will heal their brethren.”

The danger he posed to you was evident.

You fed him doubt, “What if I can’t carry children? Have you ever thought of that in your ‘great’ plan?!”

He did not care for the torment it would put you through, his eyes were on the goal. “We will try. Your gods are no strangers to using their powers to assure the Fey are surviving. And I know the secret to children of the Dawn Folk. A full moon.”

It was a long kept secret among your people that all Dawn Folk children were conceived on a night with a full moon, that was the key. If the Reaper knew, it meant one of the Dawn Folk must have told him.

Soran had not a glimmer of real compassion in his eyes. “Think of my offer. You could become the most powerful woman in the lands at my side.”

He was truly delusional.

Finally you got back some strength in your legs and used the bedpost as support to try and take some steps away. “The only thing I would become is a monster!”

You noticed how he kept his hand close to the belt that held the knives across his chest.

He tried to reason, “In time you would be seen as a saint. Your children will save many.”

“Many bastards of your Brotherhood!” You snarled.

There was a change in his eyes.

Your instincts kicked in and with the little strength in your legs, you bolted to the door and actually reached it.

But the Reaper’s reflexes were fast, he pushed it shut before you could open it enough and trapped you between his body and the door.

Panicked, you hit him with your elbow and tried to turn around.

He shoved you with your front against the door, and even now he acted like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. “Shhh… do not fight.”

You wished he wouldn’t feel you tremble, but he was too close not to.

Soran seemingly believed you could be persuaded. “I intend to keep you alive, to offer you an existence outside of locked doors, something the Church will not offer you. All I ask is that you surrender yourself to me.”

It was obvious what he wanted, he had made that very clear these past few days.

And you weren’t willing to have this bastard anywhere near you, let alone carrying his children and letting him have your body to use.

You struggled against his hold. “Go to hell!”

He gave a sneer, “Only the Fey are headed there.”

You gave your own back, “I will do one thing for the Dawn Folk. I will survive you.”

Some of his anger slipped out, he took hold of the back of your head and slammed your temple against the door. Hard.

Right afterwards, while tears began to brim in the corners of your eyes, he acted like it was your fault.

“Stop making me take these measures.” He warned and began to move your vest up.

The panic truly settled in when he touched your lower back and the waistband of your trousers.

No. No. No…

You used the strength of your wrists bound together to try and push back to no avail. “Get off of me!”

He coldly dismissed the protest. “It will not take long, stop struggling.”

It only made you struggle more and than a knife was near your eye.

The bastard threatened, “Remember, I do not need all of you. You do not need your eyes to use your magic or have children.”

Oh, you dearly wished that the knife was in your hands instead, you wouldn’t be threatening…

By trying to hold back tears, you wanted him to know that he wouldn’t break you. Not when his hand groped your chest and not when he tried to take off your trousers.

The fury that flared up inside of you was the thing that kept you from shattering.

He did not care when you began to quietly ask your gods to give you their strength.

Maybe he should have cared.

The voices of the Hidden filled the air and Soran all of a sudden stumbled backwards and away from you.

Their aggressive intervention came with the whisper of your title.

~“Summoner.”~

“What are you doing?!” He regained his footing fast but it was clear that he was in pain.

Was that… panic you saw in his eyes?

You had no idea what was happening or what the Hidden had done.

“Brothers!” He called out, the panic audible in his tone.

Two of them entered the room at his call, quite baffled to see their leader half-buckled over in pain.

“Soran-” One tried to speak.

Fury burned in the Reaper. “Take her back to her cell! Now!”

You heard the Reaper curse as they dragged you out of that room again.

The Hidden had kept their promise to you as a summoner. The ancient power of Festa and Moreii was their gift to your acceptance. And what better use for it than making the Reaper regret all he had done to you.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Hours passed in the cell again, and you were yet to see if it was true that Lancelot was alive. Where were they keeping him? Was there another part to the dungeon you had not seen yet? Or was it a lie the Reaper had told to pacify you?

You still felt his hands on your skin, and in the darkness of the cell you could let the tears flow.

Your shocked state, huddled up in the corner, did not alarm the Brothers who passed.

“They say our leader’s steel is damaged.” One whispered.

Steel?… Oh.

“Do you think… she did it?” The other wondered.

They looked in the direction of your cell with great suspicion.

Good. Let them fear.

The bastards were cruel enough to take the torch that provided little light and moved it to a holder on a wall further away.

Their footsteps rescinded and you heard them close the iron door that led to the stairs.

It was both frightening and comforting to be in the darkness alone. At least they left you alone there.

You leaned your head against the wall, hiding far at the end in a corner of the cell.

Another hour passed, then a Brother came over with a stale looking piece of bread.

“Got you something to eat, Fey.” He put it down on the floor, putting his arm between the bars to do so.

When you gave no response and didn’t even look, the Brother whistled.

His pathetic attempt at comforting could not hide the threat under it. “Come now. It will only get worse for you if you behave like this, Soran can do a lot worse than what he wants to do with you. Give him what he wants.”

You didn’t want to waste the little energy left in you on this bastard and continued to ignore his existence.

The Brother sighed. “Can’t say I didn’t warn ya. All you had to do was open your legs.”

It really made it hard to hold your tongue and not call him every horrible name you could think off.

Your eyes never left that strange dirty spot on the wall.

You heard him take a couple of steps away and past the cell, and then a loud thud, it made you jump a little

You looked and saw the Brother face down on the ground.

The steel of a blade had cut across his neck and send the Brother to the floor whilst he bled out rapidly.

The next thing you registered was a sword sinking down into his back and withdrawing from it.

You had not moved a muscle, like your body was frozen in place.

It was strange to know that you knew who stood in the shadows outside your cell just by the way he walked and moved.

The door of your cell was unlocked seconds later. Your mind was slow to process it all and slowly you rose to stand.

Lancelot stood in the doorway, like something had stopped him.

Even in the dark he could see enough of your face to know that you had been crying. Your eyes were haunting.

He spoke your name, gentle and with relief.

You couldn’t believe the miracle that stood before you.

This was the second time the Ash Man had opened the door to freedom for you, this time you were actually glad to see his face.

And only the heavens knew how it gave you a surge of energy strong enough to cross the small distance and breach the line that had once been.

You reached for his aketon and latched yourself onto him, feeling the warmth of his body and considering it a blessing after having it felt cold and lifeless.

Tears ran their path down your cheeks and unto his clothing. There were things you wished to say, but you couldn’t get a word out.

Never before had he felt arms hold him like this, another being willing to blend into him.

After the cold hold of death he had experienced, the warm hold of life was more than welcome.

The Ash Man’s response was delayed by only seconds, then his arms came around and brought you in closer.

No one had ever held you like this before, in an embrace that felt like it could protect you against the ocean’s strongest wave within a storm, with your head cradled in his hand while he vowed that you would have your freedom again.

You weren’t afraid to hold him tight, murmuring into his shoulder. “The Hidden brought you back to us.”

Lancelot couldn’t stop stroking the back of your head with his fingers. “You brought me back.”

It was your voice he remembered pleading for his life.

He explained how he freed himself, “That hairpin was useful indeed.”

With great reluctance you broke away and took the smallest step back, he took the moment to cut the ropes from your wrists.

You noticed the second sword at his side, “Found those?”

He handed it to you. “One for you. I ‘found’ keys as well.”

He found it all on the one that had been guarding the door to the cell they had kept him in. He could only try to pick the lock when the Brother guarding his cell was asleep. The man was snoring like a boar seconds before he died.

Next thing you knew, Lancelot was steering your chin to the side as his eyes focused on your face, “Did he do that?”

He could see the discoloring on your temple.

It took you a second to realize he must be seeing a bruise from when Soran had slammed your head against the door. “He…”

Your throat tightened like a cord had wrapped around it.

He feared the worst, hot white rage boiled in his veins, “What else did he do?”

“Nothing.” You didn’t know why you lied, maybe because it felt humiliating.

By steering your chin again, he made you look at him as he searched your eyes.

It was that that made you try to tell the truth. “He tried to… but the Hidden helped me.”

You didn’t need to say more, he understood what it had meant.

He cupped your neck, the burning fury carried his vow, “I am going to kill him.”

For now, all you wanted was to leave this place behind. “No. We need to get out of here.”

It was like his mind sprung into action seconds before he did. He took hold of your arm. “Stay close to me.”

You let him lead you out of the cell, it was easy to tell that he had some idea as to where he was going. “Where did they-”

He quickly hushed you before it would alert the enemy.

As you followed him, you had to step over the bodies of the Brothers that had crossed his path whilst he had made his way to your cell.

He plucked a torch from the wall and used it to set fire to the wooden pillars you passed.

“What are you doing?!” You whispered.

Lancelot continued to strategically set them alight. “Burning this fort will force them out and offer distraction.”

He steered you along, and away from the fire.

The keys he had taken from one of them were put to use on a door that lead into a narrow pathway, he locked it behind you. He wasn’t guiding you out of the dungeon the way the Brothers had been doing so.

The pathway ended with another door and opened to a dungeon where many rodents had their home.

It looked far worse than the one you had been kept in.

He shared a look, and while passing a cell he pointed to the dead Brother he had left inside of it.

They had kept him there…

You gave a look that told him you understood.

A vague sound came from the direction you had come from, then a loud bang was heard. They were trying to break through the doors that had been locked to keep the flames behind you.

“They know.” Lancelot said and urged you to follow.

He walked faster and led you to a narrow stairwell. You followed him up the steps, sensing he no longer knew where to head now.

He searched through the keys to find the one that would open the gate at the top of the steps and let the two of you out of the dungeon. He was visibly stressed.

You touched his arm, hoping it would calm him somewhat.

Lancelot took a deep breath and focused on the keys, finally finding the right one that unlocked the gate.

It was impossible to ignore how many times he had touched your arm now, as if he constantly feared that you would disappear from his side.

Oh, how things had changed. Once you had hated this, now if felt quite nice.

Past the gate it was a completely different world to be in. The fort was warmer than the dungeon below, but it was also swarming with members of the Brotherhood and you knew that any loud sound could cost you your freedom again or worse.

He wanted to turn to a hallway on the right but you stopped him, that one lead to the large stairs that they had dragged you up to bring you to that bedchamber.

You could see him take a deep breath through his nose.

If he could smell a breeze that would lead him the way to an exit…

Lancelot tilted his head, deciding to take the route ahead instead.

The urge to run out of there was strong, but it would make too much sound. The only thing you could do was walk faster than usual. A door was opened in the distance, Lancelot quickly opened one nearby and upon finding the room empty he moved you with him inside of it.

It was pitch dark inside, the only shimmer of light came from the torchlight passing under the door.

The both of you stood against it and listened.

A group didn’t walk by, they ran by. They must be on their way to the dungeons to find you and help their Brothers.

Lancelot waited a few seconds longer, than opened the door again.

The plan was to continue the path ahead, but there were so many voices coming from there that you pulled him into the direction you had come from.

He took the torches off the wall and set the large curtains in the hallway alight.

You pulled a curtain down and draped it on the floor across the width of the hallway, “Put the torch to it, it will give us time.”

Smart.

He set fire to the curtain on the floor, and then followed your lead.

You remembered a little from the path to that bedchamber, there had been two other stairwells, one that led up and one that led down.

The size of the stairs took up the width of the entire hallway. Such a big fort must have multiple exists, there had to be.

Once up the higher floor, you hurried to the stairwells that were right next to each other.

You were about to begin descending the ones leading down, when you heard voices coming from below.

Lancelot shared a look with you, you were already rushing over to the curtains and pulling one down while he took a torch again.

You let some of the curtain drape over the first few steps, than he put to torch to it.

The castle was already starting to smell of smoke, the old wooden floor would not survive for long.

Lancelot took you by the hand and pulled you up the stairwell that went a floor higher again. “I can smell the sea.”

That meant you were close to getting out of there…

At the top of the stairwell was a heavy wooden door and you could hear the sea at the other side of it.

None of the keys he had on hand worked and the two of you ended up having to use your swords to get the door to budge, then Lancelot put his shoulder against the door a couple of times and broke it down.

Heavy wind and rain almost pushed the door shut in your face again, luckily the Ash Man anticipated it and kept it open. He let you step outside first and you couldn’t care less that the rain was enough to soak through your clothes in minutes.

The rain mixed with the dried blood on Lancelot’s aketon and cloak. The moonlight was the only thing offering light, the sea around you would have appeared as a black abyss otherwise. You were at the top of the castle’s keep, fear had no place in you anymore when hearing the sound of the sea around you and the wind going through your clothes.

Fire was breaking through the windows in multiple places throughout the castle and it was spreading with aggression. For a moment you wondered if the flames were somehow connected to the one who had created them. If the Hidden made your healing magic stronger, who was to say that they did not make their summoner of the Ash Folk stronger as well?

Lancelot stood not far from you, his eyes fixed on the flames down below.

You faintly heard the Hidden, and deep down you knew that the flames were not just born from fire, but from fury as well.

While you were looking around to reach the alure of the castle walls, the heavy door Lancelot had shut behind him was kicked open.

The Reaper had managed to avoid the flames that had begun to fill the hallway where his bedchamber was located, by fleeing for his life he had chosen the same route you had taken.

The sword was already in Soran’s hand, still he seemed surprised to see you and Lancelot there.

Immediately, Lancelot stepped in front of you.

This bastard would have to crawl over his corpse before he would ever get to lay a hand on you again.

The Reaper watched the flames destroy his Brotherhood, then looked at the one responsible for it. “If Father Carden had seen this, he would have given the order for your execution himself.”

Lancelot fought back the response it caused in him and spoke to you over his shoulder, “Go. I’ll distract him.”

You weren’t going to leave his side again, especially not when he was facing the Reaper in battle. “No.”

There was a sword in your hand, you weren’t running from this.

Soran offered a chance to the Ash Man, “Hand her over and I will see past this.”

Lancelot scoffed, a wry smile formed. “I will not.”

The coldness in the Ash Man’s tone put ice to shame.

Soran took some steps closer. “I only offer, because I know how she will suffer once I kill you. Permanently, this time.”

Even now, he was trying to blackmail others into submission, while his fort was burning to the ground and none of his Brothers were there to aid him. The confidence the Reaper displayed worried you, he showed no fear.

Soran got closer, warning you of what it meant to fight him, “I have trained the strongest of men, the Trinity Guard’s skill is no match for the Brotherhood and neither is yours, Brother.”

“I am not your ‘Brother’!” Lancelot’s tone was sharp.

The Reaper spun the sword in his hand. “You’re right. You betrayed us and now you will suffer the consequences of it.”

Lancelot did not let Soran get closer and faced the inevitable battle head on.

You knew he was doing it to try and keep Soran at a distance from you. The Ash Man was walking to the blade to protect you from the monster that wielded it…

Lancelot was the first to lunge and saw Soran move skillfully to avoid the blade.

The Reaper was not the sort to fight fair, the knives he carried on him weren’t there for decoration, he drew one and tried to cut Lancelot’s arm with it.

It was anticipated by the Ash Man, he had seen him reach for it and punched Soran in the jaw after avoiding the knife.

He had to duck to avoid Soran’s sword cutting off his head, the bastard did manage to land a kick against his stomach that send him stumbling back.

You attacked the Reaper, aiming to disarm him.

Soran blocked your sword with his, but you took him off-guard by striking him across the face with your fist.

He hooked his sword with yours, forcing you closer and then he moved his elbow in a quick motion, it struck your jaw and nose.

Only a few ‘things’ of you were necessary to him, others could be damaged… he had been truthful about that.

That blow to the face landed you on the ground, leaving you disoriented for a moment.

Liquid ran over your lips and you realized blood was running down from your nose.

The fight was still going on and you pushed yourself to your feet, feeling some vertigo hit as you did.

Soran was trying to get Lancelot closer to the edge of the keep, undoubtedly to make him fall. He attacked Lancelot, using the sword as a distraction to aim the knife for the heart of the Ash Man again.

Lancelot was strong enough to grab Soran’s arm to prevent it, but the Reaper took solace with sinking the knife into his shoulder instead.

He gave Soran a push, who left the knife lodged where it was.

You saw Lancelot pull the knife out of his shoulder. The knife was worse enough, but you saw where he was standing.

You ran up to the Reaper, sensing what he was about to do.

That rotten filth had lunged at Lancelot with the sword, Lancelot blocked it with ease, but he could not defend himself against the second kick he got from the Reaper.

He lost his footing and stumbled backwards. As a last effort to save himself from falling down to the rocks below, Lancelot held on to the edge of the keep with his hands.

Dangling from the wall, he had little chance to pull himself up again, Soran was quick to go and step on his hand so it would let go.

You charged at Soran and slammed your body into his side to knock him over, when he hit the ground you reached for Lancelot’s arm to help.

You had only took hold of his arm for a few seconds when you were ripped away from him by the Reaper who pulled you away from the edge.

He clearly didn’t want to risk you falling to your death. “Stay away from the edge, you are still needed.”

You elbowed him in the side and broke free, only to be grabbed by him again.

He held on while you struggled against him. “I will let you watch how the Weeping Monk shatters his skull on the rocks below!”

The Reaper was determined in not letting you escape from his sight and steered you with him to where Lancelot was hanging on for dear life.

And then Soran saw that the Ash Man was no longer hanging on to the edge.

Soran had made the mistake of turning his back on Lancelot, his priority should have been with him, not you.

You knew that there wasn’t enough time for you to pull Lancelot to safety, but what you could do was touch his arm and heal his injuries, making him strong enough again to save himself.

Then all that need to be done was distract the Reaper to buy him time. To move in Soran’s grasp so he would not be facing the edge.

Soran must have thought Lancelot had fallen, because it took him three counts before the truth of the matter set in and he realized he had been tricked.

Lancelot’s sword came down on Soran’s arm, and severed his lower arm from his elbow.

It fell to the ground at your feet and you instantly felt the hold on you disappear.

You broke free and created a distance.

The sight of the severed arm did shake your stomach a bit.

Without a sword, and horribly wounded, Soran was powerless when Lancelot stabbed him through the heart.

Lancelot twisted the blade and then withdrew it.

The blood mixed with the rain and it made for a gruesome sight.

Soran fell down next to his arm, and his dying breaths told you that he was choking on his own blood.

The silence that soon followed felt strange. You never thought you would be looking down at the Reaper’s corpse one day.

Lancelot stopped in front of you and wrapped a hand around your upper arm, then he moved closer, “Are you hurt?”

You could only shake your head, to lost for words by what had transpired.

Something on the ground reflected in the moonlight.

Soran’s ring…

“That ring… if we show it to the Fey…” You offered him the idea.

With the ring, they would be more inclined to believe him when he would tell them he had killed the Reaper.

Lancelot went over to retrieve the ring from the severed arm, while focusing his thoughts on something else and not on the fact that he was stealing from the dead.

He pocketed the ring and came back to you. “We need to go.”

You agreed with him on that and together you made your way over to the alure of the castle walls in search of a safe way down to ground. From the direction you were heading into, shouts were heard. You shared a look with Lancelot, knowing that the way back only led to fire.

He knew what had do be done to survive, “We have to jump.”

It was a long fall down into the sea and you weren’t keen on that plan at all, “Are you bloody mad?!”

Lancelot sheathed his sword, took you by the arm and steered you to the edge of the wall in between the battlements. “We jump or we die.”

Even his own faith in the plan seemed to falter for a blink when looking down at the sea that was only illuminated by the full moon.

The voices sounded closer, this had to be done.

“Dammit…” You cursed and sheathed your sword too. “You first?”

Lancelot managed to grin. “You lead, I follow.”

Oh, so now he had no problem with someone else taking charge.

“You’d better.” You warned and stepped to the edge.

It took a lot of your courage to make the jump into the depths below.

The fall went faster than you had anticipated and you hit the water, you swam to the surface right away.

Just as you reached the surface, the Ash Man hit the water on your right.

It were a couple of worrisome seconds until he came above the water as well.

Together you swam to shore and were grateful that the sea was calm compared to the rain and wind.

You crawled unto the sand, tired from the healing and the swim.

Even Lancelot struggled to get to his feet, when he did he looked back and saw the castle burning like the sun in the night sky.

You looked as well, seeing the flames claim all of the fort without mercy.

A deep sigh of relief left you, and for a moment all you focused on was the water moving around your body whilst laying in the sand.

A castle burning in the midst of night was sure to draw attention.

There was no time to rest. Some of the Brotherhood would escape the flames.

Lancelot held out a hand for you to take. “We have to leave this place. Others will see the flames from afar.”

You sighed and let him help you up, vertigo set in again and you had to lean into his side to keep yourself steady.

He did not complain, your magic had been what saved him, “Can you still walk?”

“Depends on how far we are talking about.” You admitted, “Did they take Goliath when they took you?”

He shook his head. “I send him away before they could try to take him too.”

In other words, you had no horse.

Lancelot didn’t let the newfound hope escape. “There have to be horses nearby. They brought us here on wagons…”

“Use your nose?” You made the suggestion.

He deadpanned. “Hard to smell anything besides the ashes in the air.”

Still, he tried to inhale deep and slow a couple of times.

After coughing the scent of smoke out of his lungs, he said, “I can smell a stable.”

“You can smell the wood and horses?” You frowned while letting him help you walk.

An actual chuckle fell from him, light as air, “I can smell the manure, and now with the rain the scent is strong.”

Gods, and you had even asked him to smell it…

The small laugh escaping you felt wonderful. “Lovely.”

His chuckling increased until he composed himself. He helped you walk over the rocks that had washed ashore over time. All of a sudden he stopped you and turned you to look at him, before you could question it, he made you tilt your head backwards to inspect the damage to your nose.

“I wish I could heal you.” He stated and let go, something akin of remorse was in his eyes.

You wouldn’t hear it, he had done more than enough. “I will live. Don’t you worry about me, Ash Man.”

It was one of the few things he could not do.

The sound of horses neighing reached your ears, they must have noticed the fire too. Lancelot helped you walk towards the sound until the vertigo you felt lessened. The sight of the burning fort against the dark sky and between the rain and wind was imposing.

You found the stables at the beginning of the stone pathway that had led to the fort. A wagon with horse stood outside of it and you left Lancelot’s side to go to the poor animal waiting for it’s rider alone.

Lancelot walked by and went into the stables. “Call out if you see or hear anything.”

You gave a nod, and saw how the horse was clearly glad to see someone.

He had left the door of the stables open, a few horses suddenly darted out and headed for the woods. You looked and saw that there were still other horses inside of the stables and that the Ash Man was cutting their reins loose. He was freeing them. Once he was done, Lancelot came out of the stables and joined you by the wagon.

This wagon equipped with a bonnet would be very useful, especially in this weather.

“We are taking the wagon?” You guessed his plan.

He gave a nod, “I’ll ride.” And steered you to the back of the wagon. “Up you go. Careful.”

You almost envied how energetic he was from the healing he had received from you twice, because you barely managed to get yourself up on the wagon, it took two attempts.

On the second attempt, he offered his shoulder for you to use and supported your elbow with one hand while using his other to make sure you didn’t fall.

And that was where it got him into trouble…

His hand was on your back until you were halfway up the wagon. And his attention had been on getting you safely onto the wagon, not on where his hand landed next.

When you felt it touch your rear, you were on that wagon in a blink.

The last thing he wanted was to make you think it was on purpose, that he would use the situation to…

He quickly began to apologize, “Forgive me, I did not mean to-”

You stopped him. “I know.”

The experience with the Reaper was still fresh on your mind, and you could not hide the look in your eyes from the Ash Man. Your mind had went back to the moment, and it took you a few seconds to feel Lancelot’s eyes on your face.

Not a word was shared when you looked at him, he knew…

With some reluctance, he stepped away from the back of the wagon and headed to the front.

You saw him climb up into the seat and take the reins, “Have you ever rode a wagon before?”

No…

“Do not worry.” He eased your mind while trying to sound confident.

He would do the worrying on his own.

Luckily, some of the wagon’s bonnet covered him from the rain as well.

And by the answer, you knew it would be an interesting ride.

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