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gwenpaint-blog · 6 years

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A Couple of Cute-cumbers

((In which PI and Miss Paint go on their afternoon Valentines date and adorkableness ensues.

@dilldaydreamer

Pembrooke

Your name is Pembrooke Ingleton and you are on a date for Valentines Day! Well, sort of yes date but light completely no pressure it's just a thing to do for Valentines Day date. Date-lite. With a lovely Gwen Paint even. The two of you decided on an impromptu picnic, you picking the mysterious location and her picking the contents of the picnic basket. You had an idea for where to go, a bit of a risky choice since for all you know she'll be put off more than intrigued. But! Well, an attempt is being made. You finish your shift and switch into a nicer outfit in your office that you thought to take with you. This was perhaps the first Valentines you've actually had...things to do even. Late afternoon picnic with Pain, late evening meeting with Fin. And you aren't going to think about how you spent the day before making dick shaped cupcakes for Rex or the flood of cards you've been getting today. God damnit there are probably going to be some more waiting for you when you get back in tomorrow. That ass.

But for now! FOR NOW, it is pleasantries! You get your coat and step out of your office...preparing to wait in the lobby for her to arrive since it seemed easier to meet at the precinct than not.

((Don't forget about the shorts.))

Pembrooke

Oh. Yes. That's right. The second you try to put on your formal slacks they turn into formal shorts. God....damnit.

Miss Paint🌽

Your name is Gwen Paint. You are excited for your casual date with Inspector Pemprooke. Earlier you had spent most of the day with Karkat and enjoyed romantic movies and popcorn and giggling. Then your moirail helped you get ready for your date by helping you choose a cute outfit. You pack up your picnic basket with the food you had prepared. Everything that would be tasty to eat at room temperature save for the drinks which you were keeping cool in a thermos. You also have some fresh fruit to cute up and top the drinks once they're poured. You pack some blankets as well just in case you get chilly. You catch a cab to the precinct and head in sending Pembrooke a quick text to let him know you were at the meeting location.

Pembrooke

You get the text just as you are heading out, creating that scene of you checking your phone as you walk through the gate separating the lobby from the rest of the precinct. Looking up, you smile. "Ah! Hello! I'm glad that you were able to make it. Ah...apologies for my attire. Grey magic. It is...how it is. But! Compared to prior worries I'll take it if this is all they're going to throw at us!" You eye the basket and blankets, good practical things. Yes good. Excellent. "Are you ready to go?"

Miss Paint

You take in his appearance and... well you actually can't object too much to the view though this is a cruel time of year to do such a thing to a person. "Oh dear. Well, at least they look well on you. I'm quite glad I brought blankets now!" you say cheerfully. You nod to his question and hold up the basket, "Quite ready!"

Pembrooke

"Wonderful. Right this way madame...well...to my car. It's uh, we're not picnicking here I promise. Just...need to get to the garage first." Smooth Pembrooke. Very smooth. But hey at least the garage is slightly heated so your legs won't freeze immediately. You lead her through a couple corridor's out into the closed garage where your car is. After that momentary debate inwardly about if you hold the door for the backseat so she can put the basket in or should you hold the front door passenger side...ending up with you awkwardly trying to open too many doors...you both somehow find yourself in the car as two people about to drive off do. Fastening your seatbelt, you give a smile. "Thank you by the way, for agreeing to this. I hope it will be fun!"

Miss Paint

You giggle and blush when he calls you madame and giggle a little more when he goes a bit door crazy. You thank him warmly as you put in the basket in the back and then deposit yourself in the front passenger seat. Buckling up yourself, you cheeks flushed softly you say, "Well I was quite delighted you wanted to. And considering the company I know it will be enjoyable!"

Pembrooke

Well now you're cheeks are flushing as you start the car up and slowly pull out of the garage. You begin driving through the city, minding the traffic and not seeming in a notable hurry as you go. "Anything exciting happen since we last talked in your life?"

Miss Paint

"Not really. Well, one of my bosses tried making chocolates today and red food coloring exploded all over. I helped them clean off their hands with some stain remover," you tell him, laughing a little at the recent memory. "They were very sweet and offered chocolates to everyone who wanted them."

Pembrooke

"Oh goodness. That sounds like an adventures. But I'm glad it sounds like it all worked out in the end." you smile wide at the anecdote. "It is always nice when everyone is able to enjoy a holiday in some way or another."

Miss Paint

"Mhm! It's certainly been a lovely one for me this year, and hopefully for many others," you agree warmly. Then you start peeping out of the windows, curious of where you're going. "Ah! I'm so excited for this mystery!" you laugh a little at yourself.

Pembrooke

"Same!" Excited...nervous. Same thing really. The car drives through part of the city until it gets to the gate of what seems to be a security fence as a guarded gentleman of Dersite aesthetic steps out of his booth with a flashlight and clipboard. You roll down your window as he peers in at the both of you, flashing his light to the backseat with a telltale curiosity. "State your name and business." the man says. "Inspector Pembrooke Ingleton with Miss Paint." you say back as you hand him your identification. "Expected to meet with Archival Caregiver for a 5PM inspection of warehouse 6-B." The man looks over the ledger, looks back in the car...then hands your identification back as he checks off a few things before giving you a slip of paper. "All clear. Have a nice day inspector." he says before turning to his booth to lift the gate to allow entrance. You slide the paper onto your dashboard and give Gwen a smile and a wink.

Miss Paint

A hand gently pats his arm, "Well if it helps the nerves at all, I am happy and excited for whatever you have planned because you wanted to do it with me." The exchange between him and the guard only makes you more curious and you peer out all the harder. "Inspection?" you raise an eyebrow as you glance to him again. "Inspection of what, oh Inspector Pembrooke?" you grin.

Pembrooke

"Oh. You'll see..." you grin back, feeling a bit more confident now that the most stressful part has passed. Your calls pulls up to one of the large nondescript warehouses and you step out of your car....wrapping your coat around you best as you can because cold cold cold legs. Chances are by the time you get around to her side she's already opened the door so you settle for opening the backdoor for her to help get the basket and blankets before making your way to the cold metal doors. Trying the door, it's unlocked and you step inside...holding it open for her. Inside is well..its a pretty big empty warehouse...got a bit of a chill to it but certainly less so than the outside. Dim lights make up a lot of it and inside seems to be some various shapes and boxes all covered with tarps and sheets. As you close the door, a small dersite fellow waddles up...his shell a bit dusty from age as he shakes your hand. "Ah. Right on time as always. Hello Ingleton. Hello. And hello young miss." the older dersite chirps as he adjusts his bowtie with a nod at Paint.

Miss Paint

You gather up the blankets and basket as he expects and thank him as he hold the door for you. He looks so cold. Darn grays and they're poor timing, they couldn't have at least waited till spring? You greet the older gentleman and smile, "Hello sir." You glance around curiously. It was kind of neat how big the place was. You'd never been in a warehouse before.

Pembrooke

"Thank you again for this ah...inspection." you smile at the old dersite, which gets a chuckle from the smaller fellow. "No problem. It's nice really. What with city hall and well...you don't need me ranting my opinions on that one again. Not with such lovely company. Come come...I'll take you to it...." With that, he starts to toddle off towards what seems to be a large dome of a room inside the warehouse, held together by scaffolding and rope and partially covered with large sheets of fabric to try to keep the dust off. However light shines out from what would appear to be the doorway and he leads the two of you in and...in a way it's like a small room within the room. Inside, the walls are covered with beautiful mosaic...glossy purple and black stones among gold filigree and gems as pictorial scenes of old Derse spread from one wall to another. Large spires all done up in tiny stone, to what would seem to be the depiction of lush forests of glowing plants and small black rocked figures amongst them. Another wall containing what would seem to be the old royal court complete with the black king and queen themselves sitting regal amongst a crowd of well dressed denizens. And the domed ceiling itself, a collection of dark stones glittering with the light coming from the lamps currently on inside...causing them to reflect and sparkle like stars. In the center, among the lamps, is another comfortable looking blanket that has been spread out along with a small bouquet of flowers. The old man pats you on the side. "I'll be in my office. Be good you kids and let me know when you're done." You've known him a while, enough to know he trusts you not to try to nick the stones out of the wall and be unattended. With a smile, you wave your hand to the room. "I remember you were working on a painting once...of old Derse. This room...it was excavated from the desert a while back. Recovered from a building not destroyed. I figured...well...perhaps we should actually sit down a bit and I'll bore you with the history."

Miss Paint

You gasp audibly when you enter this place, looking around in wonder you snap back your attention when the man speaks and you nod when he says to be good you nod wordlessly. Pemprooke has thoroughly stolen your words and your breath with this incredible surprise. A smile finds its way to your lips and you nod to him as well, your eyes misting up as you set down the basket and start to lay out the thickest blanket to shield you both from the cold floor. You wipe at your eyes a little as you sit, "Ah sorry. I suppose as a Prospitian I really have no right to feel emotional over this, but Derse is my home and seeing this... is very moving," you tell him as you unfold blankets for you both.

Pembrooke

You give her the time to enjoy the room in silence...looking about yourself. It had been a while since you last saw it yourself but even you can't deny it's breathtaking. Once she sets the basket down, you go to help her with the blanket. "I don't think an apology is necessary at all. I wasn't born here but to an extent I feel closely to Derse as my home as well. And it's well, beautiful. I remembered how you were working on a painting yourself and figured it would be inspiring for your work. As well as..." You sit on the blanket, looking around with a slight frown. "There's a lot of red tape and drama regarding this place. It was excavated...an incredibly rare find. But there's so much argument over what to do with it. Some want to show it in a museum so people can view it as the art and rare relic that it is...some feel its positive portrayal of old Derse is problematic so it should be destroyed. Some want to send it to Earth where museums have offered to purchase it for their own displays. A lot of...big suits arguing about it. So here it sits...gathering dust." Your smile returns. "It's why my friend was willing to let me do an 'inspection', it's...lovely. A shame that few eyes get to ever see it. So it's nice that at least there's someone else who can sit and appreciate it."

Miss Paint

It hurts your heart that bureaucracy and most likely Prospit bullcrap is putting this beautiful history at risk. But as much as it hurts and angers you, you don't want to ruin this time with him. It also would likely be unwise to show how anti-Prospit you are to a man of the law even if he might be sympathetic to your feelings. "I... I really hope they put it in a museum here... It... It just feels wrong to destroy or send away what belongs to Derse...." is the most you say on the matter before you sigh. You summon a smile and look around once more, secretly committing the images around you to memory as you are fully intending to keep the history of Derse alive if it's conquerors intend to destroy it at every turn. "This is really truly wonderful..." you say looking back to him speaking with a great deal of feeling. "Thank you for letting me see this..." "I suppose it's now my turn but I am unsure I can match you in the excellence of your surprise," you say as you open the picnic basket and start to take items out.

Pembrooke

"Same." you nod, looking up at the sparkling dome above the two of you. "I don't think it is any sort of secret my stance regarding the former monarchy but...it feels like it would be a crime to destroy such a significant piece of history. Or to send it away...it's a part of this planet's history for better or worse. It should be here for it's people. Something to be viewed and appreciated..." A shake of your head and a chuckle. "It is one of the reasons I suggested to bring some art supplies. That said, you are welcome to take some photos as well. Goodness knows Archival and I and a few others have already. Just in case. Just...well...the location is confidential. The last thing any of us want is for this to go public and some group come to deface it or steal it to sell off. I'm...I'm really hopeful that it will have it's chance to be freed to allow public viewing one day." You decide to stop rambling, if only because you worry this is going to end up depressing. Which is the opposite goal of this afternoon. So instead you turn your focus to the picnic contents with genuine curiosity and interest.

Miss Paint

You scoot a little closer to him to share warmth and the food more easily. "I really hope you are successful in convincing those who need convincing... And thank you. I will but now it's time to eat," you say wanting to bring back the good cheer. After all Pembrooke had been so kind as to go out of his way to share this with you. You really hope the food stacks up. "So we have~ butternut squash greek salad," "Pumpkin sandwiches," "A fancy citrus and strawberry mocktail! which is just a cocktail with no liquor so this is basically a smoothie," "And lastly for dessert, upside-down apple and cinnamon pie!" You lay all the items out for you both and get the cutting board and chop some strawberries for garnish on the drinks. You look to Pembrooke and do a little jazz hand gesture as you blush and say, "Ta da~"

Pembrooke

There is an excited "oh my goodness!" to each reveal, your face lighting up more and more until the dessert. "This all looks...amazing! Goodness! I love it. You've beyond matched me, or perhaps it is the perfect pairing of scene and food." Sorry Fin, you're going to have no room in your stomach for anything dinner-like. "Thank you so much for the magnificent feast yo-" you pause as your hand lays on something with a crinkle. You look down...oh! Right! The flowers. "Ah! I forgot. For you!"

Miss Paint

You blush deeply, "I'm glad you like it. I was a little worried going vegetarian for the meal but I figured if anyone would enjoy it, it would be you." The crinkle catches you attention as well and you look curiously in the direction of the sound. Seeing the flowers, you gasp yet again, "Oh my goodness, these are beautiful! Pembrooke you are too sweet!" You are very glad that you actually brought him a gift as well.

Pembrooke

"Truth be told, I tend to lean heavily to vegetarian. Not that I'm horrifically opposed to meat but for the most part...I find it largely unappealing. Sort of an omnivore by necessity." Because face it, food is expensive in Derse much less anything akin to fresh produce. Or really anything that isn't canned or dried. "I think you made a magnificent call." Yay, she liked the flowers. That was a bit of a gamble on your part...but you couldn't pass it up. Not very often you get to pay into the commercialism of the holiday. "I'm quite certain the sweetest thing is that cake over there." your retort with a laugh.

Miss Paint

He's got you blushing so darn much! "I'm glad. I've learn a lot about helping canned or dried vegetables better, but it's hard to beat fresh even with how expensive it can be. It's one of the few things I can make my frugal heart buy," you laugh a little. You hold the flowers for a moment, smiling at them. "I've never been given flowers before... The feeling is really wonderful... Oh! And I got something for you too actually!" you say as you set the flowers out of the way and safe from being crushed and you reach into the bottom of the basket and pull out a little box wrapped in simple brown paper. You offer it to him, "I hope you like it."

Pembrooke

"Too true. Fresh fruits and veggies are probably the biggest dent in my paystub.." you laugh. At her comment, you suddenly feel a bit guilty for not getting a fancier bouquet. You honestly thought she was someone who had been gifted flowers before. But any self deprecating conflict is forgotten as you see her pull out a small box. "...oh! Oh thank you." you smile wide as you carefully start to unwrap it. You weren't expecting a gift at all, so this is quite pleasant!

Miss Paint

Inside the box is a pretty handsome teal bowtie! You picked it because you thought the cool color would look lovely on him "How do you like it?" you ask with a nervous smile.

Pembrooke

Your eyes light up. "Oh! It's so cute! I love it!" you beam as your thumb traces along the pattern. "Ahhh! Thank you so much! It's wonderful!"

Miss Paint

Your smile is pure happiness at his delight. "I'm very glad. Bowties suit you so well so I thought it might be something that is nice to have many options with," you say. You then get out plates and utensils and ask him, "Ready for a particularly squash themed meal? Well, squash themed aside from the dessert."

Pembrooke

You have a sudden desire to buy more bowties. But! For now, squash squash squash and picnic! Tucking your legs up closer to you, you make yourself more comfortable on the blanket with a nod. "I am always ready for squash themed meals. Born ready for them."

Miss Paint

You giggle and serve the food for the two of you, passing him a fork you ask, "So, what's the best vegetable aside from pumpkin?"

Pembrooke

You accept the fork with a smile and laugh. "Oh goodness. Bringing in the difficult questions here. I mean...most all of them are good in their own time and place. Like leeks? Amazing...potato and leek soup is divine. But cauliflower is nice...and artichokes...I've yet to meet a potato or carrot I didn't like. And yes...my nickname I guess is fitting because cucumbers and pickles are delightful. Zucchini as well..." You pause. "Perhaps I should have just listed the ones I don't like. Heh...what about you? Any favorites?"

Miss Paint

"Well potatoes of course, corn is delightful too. Asparagus is very tasty and peas of all kinds are yummy! I think there is only one vegetable that i can't seem to like no matter how hard i try," you admit to him as you start to nibble your salad.

Pembrooke

"Mmm." you nod and nibble your own food as she speaks. Once your mouth is clear you finally speak. "Same. For me, it is okra. It's so vile. Slimy. Just blugh....the worst in my opinion. It's like the hagfish of plants."

Miss Paint

"It's tasty in jambalaya. For me it's broccoli. I can't stand the taste. It so sulfery" you say as you laugh over his description of okra.

Pembrooke

"We now know one another's vegetable weakness. Excellent." you grin before taking another bite, enjoying the taste. You are quite certain Paint could open her own restaurant...and you'd end up a poor man because of it. "This is really good. My utmost compliments to the chef."

Miss Paint

And thus the blush returns and you smile shyly as you say, "I heard they made it for someone they like quite a bit..."

Pembrooke

Oh. That leaves you without a counter, as you awkwardly titter with your cheeks growing flush. "Ah....hah ha." How do you even follow up a line like that. "Ah. Perhaps then...at some point I should try to make something for someone I like quite a bit...ah hahhah..."

Miss Paint

You blush more and pat his arm softly, "Maybe I could teach you, i-if you like..." You stuff your face a little to ensure you can't add on some terrible fumbling words to that offer.

Pembrooke

A pause, then a smile. "That'd be nice. At some point I'd love that."

Miss Paint

You return his smile as your heart does all those fluttery things. You continue to eat gazing around thoughtfully, but his eyes keep calling yours back to them. The desire to kiss him is there and making your chest pound, but would he want to kiss you in return? "I saw you like to dance online. I learned not too long ago and rather likes it myself," you tell him, face flushed still.

Pembrooke

You eat and glance around, enjoying the food but also having that mental moment of wishing you had made yourself a list of conversation topics. What if things go quiet for too long and it gets awkward? Bad planning on your part. Then again pulling out a sheet of paper full of conversation subjects may also be equally awkward. So you're a bit relieved when she brings up the conversation of dancing. With a nod you finish your current bite of food before responding. "Oh. I do. Well, in the sense what I've been learning is fun. Haven't had much chance to really put it to the test. Ah heh...I suppose dancing in lessons or by one's lonesome is a very different beast than in a large public area."

Miss Paint

"It's a little intimidating I admit to be on a public dance floor, but also the energy of everyone is wonderfully invigorating!" you say with a smile. "At least at the dance hall I went to everyone was quite kind and encouraging." You pause for a moment then stutteringly you ask, "W-w-would you like to....? D-dance with me I mean"

Pembrooke

That makes sense in retrospect and with less paranoia...that the dance halls would probably be supportive rather than cruel to those on the floor. Though, oof...there was still something rattling about being around such a crowd of people and the risk of people noticing you. Though at her question you pause. "....right now?" you ask...then make the face of No you dork she likely meant later! There's not even music here. Also why didn't you bring music?? "Ah...I mean. I would! At some point. Yes. Yes that would be nice. I'd love to dance with you."

Miss Paint

"Ah well... if you don't mind music off my phone... w-we could... now?" you say rather shyly. Maybe it's a bad idea but, it sounds fun and if he's nervous in public maybe dancing more in private would help him find his confidence.

Pembrooke

You perk up at the suggestion. "Oh. That would be, nice. Though ah...perhaps a slower dance..." you look around at the mosaics and lights on the ground used to illuminate the area and just how much a tripping hazard could occur if you were to try a jaunty jig in here. "...I'm pretty sure Archie would have my head if I tripped on a blanket and knocked something over."

Miss Paint

You nod, "That's probably for the best. I'd be sick to my stomach if I fell into any of this. Now lets see..." you scroll through your phone's selection and find some pretty music which should be suitable. "I think I've got a good song," you say as you look back to him. You were going to dance with Pembrooke. If your heart could make delighted squeeing sounds it would right now.

Pembrooke

The music starts up and you nod with a smile before setting your now empty plate aside on the blanket. Rising to your feet, you dust yourself off before picking the most empty spot in the room for minimum risk of tripping hazards or risk. It is a pretty song, and oh goodness you're actually going to dance with Gwen. That sudden worry of how you may step on her feet or actually forget all the moves is bubbling up and for once you're sort of glad for the slight chill in the room because otherwise you fear you'd be sweating. Holding out your hand, you give a warm but perhaps a bit of a nervous smile. "If I may."

Miss Paint

With a shy smile of your own, you take his hand to stand with him and pray that your feet don't betray you. Please do not step on the inspector feet. You are silently pleading with them. Your free hand comes to rest lightly on his shoulder as you look up into his face.

Pembrooke

The please do not step on Gwen feet chant is in your mind as well as you lightly put your free hand on her side where you were taught. Not too high, not too low. Got to be proper here. You look down into her eyes and the nervousness slightly fades as you wait for the song to reach a point in which you can start with the beat. As it does, you take a breath and start to move with the music. Maybe a wee bit more shaky than you would have liked for your starting steps but the motions and habits quickly kick in.

Miss Paint

You follow his lead, nervous but smiling. You fumble slightly stepping off beat at the start and stammer a little 'excuse me' but you start to find the flow of the timing with him. The movement becomes more natural and easy and you relax and your smile grows as you dance together.

Pembrooke

Later on you'll likely reflect how romantic a scene this is, in the sense of a picnic for two in such a place, dancing a slow dance in the middle of an artistic wonder of Old Derse's beauty. Amongst sparkling stones of glittering images that must have take the crafters months to slowly place each and every pebble. But right now you are SO NERVOUS AND TRYING TO NOT STEP ON FEETS OR TRIP.

Miss Paint

You almost trip when the song end and you catch yourself with a semi-panicked 'Eep!' then you laugh in relief. "Goodness. Of course I managed to trip over myself of all things," you say good naturedly through a deep blush.

Pembrooke

You feel the trip and are ready to catch her, but she catches herself so you laugh as well as you let her go. "I'm amazed I didn't trip, must have been my lucky day. But ah...thank you! For the dance. It was nice, wonderful even. Have you taken lessons, or is dancing something you have a natural skill for?"

Miss Paint

"No thank you! It was lovely and you dance so well. It made me feel more at ease,"You say warmly. "A friend actually taught me when we went out for an evening," you tell him. "So I've danced all night once." You retrieve your phone and turn it on sleep mode then turn back to him. Brushing a little hair back from behind your ear you smile, "You really have a habit of putting me at ease even when I am doing something that would make me fretful."

Pembrooke

"All that in one night? Goodness you're a natural." you exclaim with a chuckle. You offer your arm, if anything you now have the jitters so perhaps this is a good time to walk around the dome to get a closer look at some of the mosaics you pass by. "Oh? Oh goodness I'm glad. I worry often that my fussing habits are going to rub off on everyone I meet."

Miss Paint

You blush more at his compliment as you take his offered arm, enjoying the simple movement of walking then snort at his last comment, "Oh goodness, no fear of that with me. I was a natural born fretter. I've fussed myself into a tizzy more than once." You giggle, "To an extent it's rather good cause it's kept me alive. But it's nice to be able to relax."

Pembrooke

"Same. Ha ha...same. I'm pretty sure my fretting has kept me alive a few times as well." you confess with a laugh. "But yes...it is quite nice. Relaxing." At least until you forget for a while and probably overwork yourself again but that's how that goes. Glance over. "You're not too cold are you? Not really the warmest place for a picnic I confess...." you say, as you walk around in shorts. You hypocrite.

Miss Paint

You cuddle against him a bit and smile, "I'm quite warm like this if you are... And we can return to the blankets if we get chilled... The view is lovely no matter the angle."

Pembrooke

"I'm quite alright. Just wanted to make sure you were as well." And even if you were a bit cold, you don't want to return to the blankets just yet. This is fun, nice...relaxing indeed. Even if you're heart is feeling a bit fluttered. The two of you stop in front of the mosaic of forests and fields, and you give a sigh. The loss the planet felt was tragic across the board, but there is that small farmer part of you that feels a particular sting at the ultimate devastation of what few native plants the planet had. You heard they were incredibly beautiful in their own way. "Sometimes I go out with some of the excavation groups in the desert. Part of it is that yes...sometimes folks of the city like to try to hide illegal goods in the desert..but I cannot deny there is always a small part of me hoping to uncover that cache of like...a grainery. Or an old flowershop. Or something containing seeds from the old Derse." Shrug. "A bit of a silly dream perhaps."

Miss Paint

You squeeze his hand a little, "It's not silly in the slightest! I think it's important that if we can... That we restore life to Derse that it once had... Maybe regrowth can bring healing like nothing else has since the war.... It's a beautiful dream... to want to see things grow..." You gaze hope at the scene, hopeful in spite of everything. "I think it's a wonderful dream and one I hope comes true...." you tell him as you rest your head against his shoulder.

Pembrooke

"Same..." it's all you can really think to say as you give her hand a small squeeze back, taking one more moment to look at the quaint pastoral scene. Overall, you feel quite happy being able to share something like this, to be able to pull your strings for something pleasant instead of another lead to a potential criminal den. "I hope this has been a pleasant Valentines for you. I felt like as an artist, it would be an experience you'd personally enjoy."

Miss Paint

"It was not only pleasant but exceptional. I'm really grateful to you for thinking of me to show this to..." you tell him as your heart pounds all too loudly in your ears while looking into his kind eyes. Then you remember, "Oh! I should probably take those pictures! I can't imagine they'll like us to stay too much longer since it will be getting dark and they probably have their own evening plans."

Pembrooke

There's a tiny part of your subconscious starting to develop in the idea of perhaps this is romantic. And the vague consideration of a kiss...but then it's gone as she mentioned the pictures and you snap to attention. "Oh! Right.. Right right. Archie is a good sort but you're quite right. Best to not dilly dally too much. Aha ha ha. If you'd like, I can start putting things away as you take the pictures."

Miss Paint

"Oh! If you want to. I wouldn't want to force the task on you while I dally about with photos," you say feeling guilty at the thought of him cleaning up while you play with your phone.

Pembrooke

"It is not a problem at all! I'd be happy to." you cheerfully quip back, already starting the task.

Miss Paint

You thank him profusely then set about taking so many pictures it's a little absurd. When you finish you help him with folding up the blankets and as a fold draws you close together, you pause as you look into his face again and a blush lights your freckled cheeks for the one hundredth time that evening. You ask yourself if you are that bold as to go for a kiss. Is it too soon? Would he be uncomfortable? It was a very romantic date along with the friendship of it....

Pembrooke

Each item is carefully wrapped and returned to the basket to prevent any spilling, and with her help the two of you fold up the blankets quite neatly...leaving no evidence of the two of you ever being here in the first place. Well...yes if you got your tools out you could probably find some evidence, you aren't going to be THAT thorough but for a non-crime scene this is a pretty good clean up job if you say so yourself. You find yourself looking into her face and that fluttery feel in your chest starts up again. Is it improper to kiss on a date like this? Does that feel too rushed or Valentines entrapping? What is the etiquette for this situation?? Hngngn... Like a cursed specter, your conversation with Rex the days prior creeps into your mind, the whole not doing the will-they-won't-they shtick as if an accusation that is your methodology. Hmm. Yeah no, time to be bold!! "Ah." comes the completely not bold at all squeak. "I was, wondering. If it's ok with you that is and please by all means if not tell me so I will understand because I don't want to imply or make things more awkward but would it be alright if I kissed you?" Oh yeah. Bold and Smooth. Like fine sandpaper.

Miss Paint

His delivery does not make the sentiment any less sweet and certainly it sends your heart rushing to the races as it were. Your flush goes from soft pink to bright pink and you nod. Later you take great pride the fact that you manage to say, "Yes," aloud and without stammering. One hand rises to cup his cheek, and you lean in nervous but ready as you pray you are not the worst kisser he'll ever experience.

Pembrooke

How do people do this in a suave and charismatic way? You have no idea because you're quite certain you're about as rosy cheeked as Paint's hair is about now. But you're also smiling like a silly fool as the touch of her hand on your cheek sends tingles down your spine. Do you keep your eyes open? Close them and hope for the best? Once again, you realize you have NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE DOING. And suddenly you aren't sure why you were nervous about the dancing, that seems like child's play nervousness. Inconsequential to the sudden worry you're going to chip her teeth if everything goes wrong. Ok, okay....movies don't lead you wrong now. As you get close enough to feel her breath on your face, you close your eyes and lean in for the kiss. Something just tender, soft, nothing zealous or crass now....it's a first valentines day after all.

Miss Paint

Your own mental dialog on how to kiss comes with a bit more stiff orders to yourself as though there were a tiny and stern instructor in the back of your mind. Your eyes close maybe a moment before his and you feel the warmth of his lips pressed to your own, soft, intimate and sweet. It's a strangely lovely moment that on one hand is far too short and on the other is far too long as your mental dialogue of panic over if you are doing this well rages. You can't really tell yourself who pulls away first, but your smile is shy and exuberant all in one. Your hand lingers on his cheek a moment longer before you move it away. You really don't know what to say, so you smile and say the first thing that pops into your dazzled brain. "We should do this again sometime..."

Pembrooke

No smashing of noses or a clack of teeth so tiny yay as you enjoy the softness and warmth of her lips. You too aren't entirely sure if you pulled away or her, but you have a dopey smile on your flushed face and you're pretty sure if she was a spy you'd be ready to tell her all your secrets like the twitterpated fellow you are. She says something and you hear again sometime so you nod. "Ah. Yes! That would be nice! Definitely. Ah hah..." you titter giddily. "This has been...wow." Your vocabulary has been diminished it seems as you take her hands into yours. "Thank you."

Miss Paint

And that look on his face and his adorable stumbling over language sends your heart into a renewed bought of fluttering before the last had even seized. You giggle like a lovestruck loon and keep one of his hands held in yours as you gather up the picnic basket with the blankets, sort of on an autopilot or responsibility. "Thank you... It's been.... I-incredible... Y-you're incredible..." you say, not even minding the return of your stammers as you start to lead the way out without really thinking about it.

Pembrooke

"I'm pretty sure you're the incredible one this evening. The food was, amazing. You're quite amazing." you fluster and babble as you help her into her coat. "This has been-oh! I need to tell Archie real fast we're leaving! One second!" You sprint off for a quick second towards a small door near one of the sides, leaning in where Paint can easily hear a hurriedly said "We'reDonehadAGreatTimeThankYouAgainArchieGoingNowTa!" before you're sprinting back over to her with a nervous laugh. "Sorry about that. But ah..." oh no you lost your train of thought. "It's been amazing." With a smile you open the door leading back out and...OH RIGHT. IT'S REALLY COLD. You close the door. Put on your coat, THEN open the door.

Miss Paint

He's got you giggling a lot and you thank him profusely once more for helping with your coat and getting the door. When you reach the car you separate one blanket from the rest and once you and Pembrooke have both gotten in and buckled up, you gently lay the folded blanket on his lap to keep his legs warm. "I'm glad you liked the food. And really you are amazing yourself, it's simply the truth," you tell him and then place a quick and shy kiss on his cheek.

Pembrooke

You thank her for the blanket to keep your legs warm for the drive until the heater kicks in proper. Which is easier than thanking her for the compliments she's saying. Hnn why is accepting compliments so hard. You're trying to ready something to say when you feel a peck on your cheek, and there goes any words you could say, right out the window. Putting a hand on your cheek, you smile warmly. "...ah. Ahah. Thank you. You're quite amazing too. The truth. The truth indeed." With that, you chuckle and turn on the car...driving her to wherever she requests to be dropped off at. There's a few questions in your mind. If things get serious, you feel the compulsion to come clean about your race. Also the possibly conversation about Rex...and Fin? But for now you're going to kick those thoughts out the window and just enjoy the car trip and warm glow of having a splendid date.

#dilldaydreamer #long post #discord rp #((adorkable #((Bless your hands Mabs

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k1ng0fn0b0dy · 3 years

Text

Sunshine ❤

[Gender-neutral]

[1069 words teehee]

Description: You, a fae of the seelie court, meets a dragon-kin with horns that shine like gold. (Technoblade x GN!Reader)

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

You are a protector of a hidden spring and secret entrance to the Faerie Realm, hand chosen by Queen Titania of the Seelie court and accepted by the old Queen Mab of the Unseelie court. You had trained since your youth, since before you had gotten the gift of wings, to become a high-rank fae in the court. You were now, though still youthful in the eyes of the court, with a strong connection to Life that granted you a thumb greener than a dryad and your magic it's own boost.

After many years of trickery for it, your position is often one filled with quick, sword drawn fights, ending in adventurers' heads laying at your feet, staining the blessed lands with their sinful blood. It is an honour, truly it is, to defend such a vulnerable point.

... However, it does sometimes get boring. You haven't had the option of stealing a name in decades and the only fae who greet you also leave within seconds. The routine had gotten too common place, too repetitive. It would ruin everything you had worked towards to give up your post so soon, especially with the high expectations from the courts, but some moments you found yourself considering it.

And blessed be by Fate, the ground rumbled with something ferocious. The cave shook and trembled, not crumbling with its blessing but shaking nonetheless and it was exhilarating. Finally, a moment of excitement. How could the might creature outside not be for you to cleanse your boredom when it come at such a convenient time.

With quick hands you grab your bow and head out of the cave. There is no sun here, not with the thick enclove of trees that hide your world from the masses. As you walk, a dragon-kin greets you. Large horn-like antlers on their head, glittering like gold. Their scales ripple down, a sunset pink that rests soft against their pale human skin.

They do not stumble or stutter in their step when they see you, just come to a smooth stop a good few feet in front of you. "Which court are you from?"

"Seelie," You answer, pleasently surprised by the question.

"May the sun shine upon you," The dipped their head, a sign of respect that had you fluttering your wings-pleased. They fix their braid, tucking pieces of hair behind their ear. "I seek refuge in the fairyland, if I may have the honor."

It's with a happy grin that you nod, "Of course. Your people are our allies, refuge is but a small gift." Gesturing for him to follow, you turn back towards the cage. Truth be told your people haven't had to accept a dragon-kin in ages for they were too strong to need refuge. For one of them to ask now, you were sure he was going to bring excitement to the world!

"So," he started, trailing off a bit. "It's a nice cave you've got here... very roomy."

You snort despite yourself, the cave can be described in many ways but never, ever in your experience, as "roomy". The dragon-kin smirks, looking awfully chuffed with himself. "Our hidden entrances are small for a reason, dragon-kin. They are meant to be hidden."

"Fair point," They huff, trails of smoke following despite the relatively high tempatures of the day. "You can call me Techno, by the way."

"Not a real name, I assume," You grinned, looking back over your shoulder with a sharp-toothed grin. "It's rather foolish to do so, if you did."

"Nickname," He shrugs, not bothered as Techno bares their own friendly little sharp-toothed grin. "Is there something I can call you?"

"Humans refer to me as an Anchor so I've recently taken to it as a nickname," You set your bow against the cave's side, hand coming up to rest upon the overgrowth that cascades the rest of the cave. You pull it aside and wait for Techno to duck around you. "But you can call me whatever you please."

Their chest rumbles with a chuckle, in a way so unfamiliar to you and yet you crave it all the same. "If that's the case than you can do the same."

"I think I might," You laugh back, although a part of you is curious just how far you could that the name game. As you yourself pass through the vines, your beautiful home lay in wait. The entrance you guard over comes to a popular area in the kingdom, close to the heart of the capital mostly filled with shops but densely filled all the same.

"Welcome, Sunray," You rest your hands on your hips, a proud smile as you overlook the kingdom and its citizens you protect proudly and would resolutely die for. "Just don't eat anything people give you." They'd snatch Techno up the second they could and if he ate anything you couldn't stop them.

"I wouldn't come here unprepared," His golden horns glitter in the lights, your own personal drop of sun. His words are oddly skirting around blunt words, something you hadn't initially thought the dragon would try. "I've read my fair share about fae before coming here."

You smile at the self-confidence, knowing that if you truly craved his soul he'd be dancing until his feet bled dry in a fairy circle by now. "Careful, sunshine, us faeries do like the sun but you forget some would rather snuff it out in favour of eternal moon. A special few here wouldn't see the difference between you and the sun."

Techno's lips quirk up at the thought, as if it amused him more than scared him. "That'd prove a problem for them, I've been told I'm a tough one to kill."

"For your sake I hope that's true." And for some odd reason, maybe it's the willingness he accepts the nickname or just your oddly eager adoration, but you link your hand through his. Techno lets you tug him along to get another guard to watch your station, grinning when you carry him to fly past evening traffic. You know now, with the prettiest drop of sun hanging from your arms, that your boredom was the best thing that ever happened to you.

"Go faster!" Techno yells, looking so very pleased. You push yourself for the giggles that leave him, like honey to your ears.

{《☆》}

[YE ALL DRAGONFUCKERS COME HITHER OR SOME OTHER SHAKESPEAREAN BULL IDK IM DOING A ROMEO AND JULIET THING FOR ENGLISH AND ITS STUPID]

[Okay I only realized I didn't post this halfway through my Dream God post <the one I'm gonna post in like an hour idk>]

[Anyways guess whose brothers birthday is tommorow (today?) I do not have a gift. I only have my little pogchamps and you guys aren't tradeable. :(]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars

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panic-and-procrastinate-writing · 2 years

Text

Like A Homing Pidgeon

“Forget-me-nots have to be my favourite.” You said, deep voice rolling like rich honey tea in the warm afternoon, playing with the laces of your vest as you gazed up at the clear blue sky.

Jason turned to you, confused as to where he was, but relaxing at the sight of you all the same.

Your head was upside down to him, as you laid parallel but opposite ways, and you breathed in the summer air. Your sigh was soft, and gentle, and soothing to his soul, and he couldn’t understand why.

Where was he?

Who were you?

He looked around whilst laying still and saw the tall brittle strands of grass that towered over the both of you, dry from the summer sun. There were beetles and grasshoppers, climbing up the strands and jumping back and forth. The sharp buzzing of bees could be heard as they pollinated the white flowers in the field overhead.

Jason felt peace in his soul; and didn’t know why.

When he turned back to you, you were already looking at him, and Jason felt his breath stutter as his heart beat faster.

Everything about you was breath-taking, even if you had the most ordinary features.

Your skin glowed in the warmth of the sun, the pollen in the air swirling and twinkling like fairies dancing in the sunbeams. Had Queen Mab sent her darlings to bless you? She must have, for it was the only reasoning Jason had as to why you looked so magical.

Your eyes were shining with the light, clouded with confusion as to why he hadn’t answered you, but loving all the same.

Your lips had never looked so kissable.

Your lips began to quirk up into a smile as he continued to stare, and you rolled over, so your face was above his, and Jason felt himself swallow nervously.

“Do you want a kiss, my love?” You asked so saccharinely sweet, your short hair tickling his forehead, and Jason felt his mouth go dry. He nodded none the less.

You leant closer, and your lips ghosted over his, teasing, and when Jason tried to close the gap, you pulled away giggling.

He whined in desperation. He was a parched man in a desert, and your lips were his only oasis. How could you keep him from water like this?

When you finally pressed your lips against his, Jason swore he felt God through your lips. He pressed back, and you sighed into him, and Jason heard the angels sing.

How could loving you be a sin? There was Heaven in your mouth, and Jason was devout man, determined to ascend.

Your rough hands came up to his face, to stroke his cheek lovingly, but when you felt his tears, you pulled back to look at him worriedly.

“You’re crying, darling. What’s wrong?” Was he? It was probably because you stopped kissing him.

“Don’t stop.” He managed to croak out, and Jason was scared when he didn’t recognise his own voice.

When you didn’t kiss him again, and instead kept watching him with concern, he reached up to card his hands through your hair and pull you back in.

You smiled sadly against his lips as he pulled you back desperately. But then you licked, and Jason had never felt anything so wonderful. Your sinfully wet, yet soft tongue gliding against his lips made him feel whole, and powerful, and hot.

He opened his mouth to accept you, and Jason’s thoughts crumbled as your tongues tangled together, creating a mindless state of bliss. When you turned your head and bit his lip -Jason shot up with a gasp, taking deep wide eyed breathes as the dream stopped.

A couple of first paragraphs from my Jason Todd/Reader fanfiction. Currently it is at 10,000 words and still its not finished, but if you want to read more make sure to let me know and give some words of encouragement, and i might find the motivation to write more ;)

#Jason Todd #jason todd/reader #dc comics #fanfic #this has been in the works for longer than a year #this is my damn baby #love this work damnit #i put my blood sweat and tears into this shit

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aquariumnights · 3 years

Text

Chapter Three

Jotaro Kujo x Reader

Warning ‣ Swearing

[Next] [Prev]

The smell of bacon wafted into my room, causing me to knit my eyebrows together. Groaning softly I open one of my eyes; the light from the crack in the blinds lighting my room up dimly. 'What's that smell?' I thought to myself, rubbing my face and sitting up. Rolling my shoulders a few times and standing up, out of bed. The fluffy white cat wasn't there anymore. Letting my shoulders slump and back crack slightly as I bend backwards; stretching in a way.

Heading towards the mouth-watering smell, which was in the small black with tabletops- Kitchen. I almost choked, completely forgetting how to breathe. Eyes wide with the scene before me.

Ink hair brushed back loosely, sea whirlpools for eyes staring down at the pan with cooking bacon in it; a muscled chest showing through his classic purple tank top (which I had no idea where he got it, I pretty sure it's in the wash) and bright pink apron he was currently wearing. The sculpted arms of a greek god all wrapped up in bandages, just out there, for me to drink in the sight. He was still in his very dark blue underwear, the bu-

'What am I thinking! You thirsty bitch!'

I mentally slapped myself and yawned again, moving my hand up to cover the gaping mouth, which didn't make it in time. He stared out of the corner of his vision.

I got to work; getting out the plates, forks, and knives- getting out a second pan and cracking 4 eggs into it, they sizzled loudly. I stared down at them with half-lidded eyes- though my body still looked asleep- my mind was going a mile a minute. How close was I to him? He swayed gently and brushed your should against his upper arm. I took every cell in my body not to jump to space. I flinched slightly but he seemed not to notice, we didn't speak a word but it wasn't awkward, it was oddly calming. Once the eggs and bacon were cooking to perfection, he poured the bacon onto the plate and you did the same with the eggs.

Eating in silence, was a little more awkward than cooking. I had tried to start up a conversation, but he only answered in short-one-worded statements. There was still some plain residing on his face, I couldn't blame him. I offered some more plain killer and he grimly hummed taking them. Maybe that was his way of saying thank you?

"Oi, woman."

"My name is (y/n)."

"Whatever.... take me out-"

I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. He glared back at me, his beautiful lips drawn into a tight line. I Simply nodded and packed the dishes into the washing machine, him staring intensely at something around me.

I gave back his dry clothes which he seems pleased about, the frown on his face decreased just a tiny bit. Getting dressed me into a dark red- almost maroon- high neck shirt with a white oversized -to the max- band shirt both tucked into a short red plaid skirt, thick black tights and red (fake) converse. My hair was normally how it is.

Jotaro eyed my outfit before 'tsk' ing and tipping his hat down. We headed out taking the train to the marketplace -or mall-.

The train was unusually crowded, many teens, kids, families, businessman and women all. In. A. Small. Space. I grumbled slightly as I stumbled when some persons back knocked into mine. Jotaro- who was currently in front of me. God bless. Saved my ass, letting me face plant right into his firm chest. My face turned red and quickly pushed away from him. He stared down at my form with his usual face. Hearing our stop, I tried my hardness to push past people, not knowing that the mab behind me had all eyes on him. Finally getting off the train that came from hell. The two of us did a short walk to the big cream and white coloured building covered in glass windows.

The Carpark was almost full of cars, many slowly driving around looking for a free spot. I walked in the large glass door, feeling the cold air-con blowing the hair out of my face. Jotaro followed closely behind, gaining a lot of affection from both males and females. I heard him grumble and frowned. A basic bitch soon came up to us- well him, her bleached hair gently swaying as she walked up to him. She was wearing a red corseted type of top -to show off her boobs-, skinny black jeans and white vans. Something tightened in my chest and she tried to sweet-talk the 190cm male.

"Hey~ Are you free this week~?"

She said, sickly sweet. Just then something clicked in your brain when Jotaro gave the woman an odd look, I giggled and looked up at him. deciding to be a good citizen. I looked at the female and smiled as kindly as I could before looking at Jotaro, pressing a finger to my lips.

"She asked if you were free this week."

Speaking in a different language made her look back at her two friends. She was confused. He frowned and looked down at me, grumbling something that I couldn't understand before glaring down at the girl and I swear I could see the 'menacing' characters.

"No. Shut up bitch, you're annoying."

He spat down her before turning and walking off. I was kinda not even surprised at his action, as to the lady she just stared at him blankly before squealing, before giving me a half-assed glare. She skipped away back to her friends.

I quickly walked back to the jet black-haired man who was staring at a dolphin print sweater, in the shop window of... Gucci. My sweat dropped when he asked to check out the store. I couldn't even buy a shoelace in that store let alone a Japanese style sweater. Neither the less, the two of us made our way into the store.

At one point in time everyone in the store looking at Jotaro, he didn't take notice as he stared at the piece of clothing. I blushed slightly at the attention I was getting as well.

"Oh my god, what are you doing here, you broke ass?"

I froze at the words but laugh lightly at the owner of the voice, turning around to spot a light brown-haired girl in an oversized sweater and sweat pants standing at the entry of the store. Amy smirked at me- showing off her multi-coloured braces, I smiled back at her. seeing her face drop, I raised an eyebrow.

"Is that Jotaro Fucking Kujo?"

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buh-lock-ay · 4 years

Text

My very specific favorite part(s) of every song in Act 2 of bare: a pop opera

Again stolen from @ilovetheater24601

**specific to the 2013 LA Production**

Wedding Bells: 1) **PAYSON FUCKING LEWIS BELTING A HIGH B WHILE ON HIS KNEES AND CRUNCHED OVER WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME** 2) Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to bless the union of Peter and Jason. DearlybelovedwearegatheredheretodaytoblesstheunionofPeterandJason. Thank you, Choir. Yourewelcome.

In the Hallway: Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

Touch My Soul: I have never felt this way before. Have you?/Yeah. Once.

See Me: 1) This song changes time signatures 42 times. It has 4/4, 3/4, 2/4, 6/8, 5/8, and 4/8 and I love how disjointed that makes it sound. 2) All I ask is an open mind cause that’s exactly what I’ll say to my mom when I come out to her eventually.

Warning: I won’t want their pity. I just want my son.

Pilgrim’s Hands: The way the melody flows seamlessly from one to another on Aye, Prilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Oh then dear saint, let lips do what hands do

God Don’t Make No Trash: Remember the message well: If you hide from yourself, be someone else for someone else’s sake, that would be the greatest mistake.

All Grown Up: Am I supposed to love this child? Is it just that simple then? Tell me how this change will happen. Tell me how and tell me when, tell me how and tell me when!

Promise: After Ivy tells Jason she’s pregnant, portions of the “seduction theme” from One play in the background and it’s subtle and gorgeous.

Once Upon A Time: Could you really love someone like me?

Cross: Is it okay? Am I okay? PLEASE answer me! (Bonus opinion you didn’t ask for: John Hill’s performance of this in the 2004 Off-Broadway version is absolutely gut-wrenching)

Two Households: What if we escaped this, Peter you and I? Ran away just never looking back but also the fact that it’s the tune of Role of a Lifetime and has the same piano part underneath it

Bare: God so much but I’ve narrowed it down to 1) how on the chorus of the song, Jason and Peter’s parts blend into each other. The first couple of times I ever heard the song I could hardly tell where one part ended and another started because they melodic line seamlessly flows back and forth between the two of them (which also means that individually the parts are pretty difficult to sing, especially Peter’s imo) 2) the meter change from 3/4 to 4/4 when Jason tells Peter that he loves him is the absolute best and I’ll never get over it

Queen Mab: Sometimes she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck and then he dreams of cutting foreign throats, drums in his ear

A Glooming Peace: the choral harmonies

Absolution: 1) Our love was pure and nothing else brought me closer to God 2) also the fact that this song is the same melody as Role of a Lifetime just slow (even the rhyme scheme is the same at some parts!!!)

No Voice: 1) That Nadia knew 2) It’s so hard to find your way when you have no voice to guide you on 3) **Claire mouthing “I love you” to Peter**

#act 2 as promised!#bare a pop opera #bapo #bare analysis

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cicada-bones · 4 years

Text

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 13: Letters

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Rowan lived up to his word and forced the princess to pull double duty in the kitchens. So she worked both the breakfast and the dinner shifts that week, leaving her exhausted and aching and irritable. But she took to the work well, not seeming to feel the punishment as it had been intended. Which irritated him.

Though he had a much better understanding of the girl, he still hadn’t figured out a way to turn that knowledge into anything useful. Therefore, every afternoon they sat for hours in the pouring rain while the princess tried and failed to find a way around those iron bars in her mind.

The girl was still infuriating, still arrogant and impudent and wild, but he didn’t hate her as much as he had before. If he had cared to think about it, he would have probably characterized his feelings as an antagonistic dislike.

She still aggravated him, and he still goaded her right back. But he understood her better now, and found that he couldn’t hate her.

No more dead demi-Fae turned up, but Rowan still spent every morning searching the woodlands and digging through papers for leads. He didn’t make any progress. The maps and missives just stared back at him, blank and unhelpful, while the forests remained infuriatingly empty.

But one morning, Rowan received news through the fortress courier.

Fenrys was back in Doranelle, having finished his assignment in Varese. And apparently, he missed irritating Rowan to death.

Rowan –

I arrived in Doranelle just this week. I didn’t realize you would still be at Mistward, or I might have stopped there on my way back. Not that I miss your pretty face – I just need to collect on the favor I did for you in Varese. You owe me.

Connall and I are the only ones currently in the capital, so there won’t be much help coming your way (we drew straws, and I received the absolutely wonderful pleasure of responding to your very thoughtful and not-at-all-grouchy message).

Lorcan is now with fleet along the southern coast, pushing east towards the rebel camps. As you know, it’ll be unlikely that he responds in time to actually be helpful – if at all. Vaughan is still on the other side of the world, doing whatever the hell Maeve asked him to do there, so there’s almost no chance of you reaching him. But I’m sure you knew that.

Gavriel on the other hand, we just got word from – he will be returning within the month, back from the outpost on the northern edge of the Cambrian Mountains. The soldiers he was stationed with were all killed – slaughtered by a band of rogues sometime after midwinter. He tracked the killers to their base, and executed their leader. But still, those were soldiers Gavriel had known for decades, some even longer. You actually probably knew some of their names, but I don’t, so I can’t relay them to you.

In his message, Gavriel said that he was looking for you, and had visited Lord Siarill’s court in the east where he thought you were still stationed. But of course, you weren’t there, and after checking with Lorcan in the south, he said he would be returning. I tried to send a letter his way, but we’ll see if he gets it.

Neither me, nor my brother, know anything – there have been no reports here of any strange bodies, missing people, or of whatever that dark creature was.

Are you sure that the bodies aren’t just from normal crime? Fae gone bad? And about that creature – you never actually saw anything, right? Just a weird darkness?

Maybe another Fae has been blessed by Hellas and is raging across the countryside. Though it’s hard to imagine anyone more unstable than Lorcan. Perhaps he’s just in a mood and decided to take it out on his demi-Fae cousins. I certainly wouldn’t put it past him. Lorcan could probably dry someone up into a husk if he wanted to.

I refrained from asking our dear mistress, assuming that if you got that desperate, you could very well ask her yourself. Good luck with that.

I will, however, search through the library for you, but I doubt I’ll find anything helpful. What you had to say was too vague, and far too reliant on your own experience with the creature, rather than its identity, characteristics, or history – and you know what it’s like in there. Impossible to find anything you’re looking for even under the best of circumstances.

Let me know if anything interesting happens, its dead boring here – as per usual. Could use an evil demon creature to spice things up. Perhaps I could even set it on Connall – he certainly could use a good sharp shock. Brooding bastard.

Hope you’re enjoying training that pretty princess, because if you aren’t, I’d be glad to take your place. I’ve heard she’s fiery. Sounds like fun if I’ve ever heard of it.

Let me know of any developments, I will do the same –

Fenrys

Rowan’s jaw was clenched the whole time he read the letter.

Even so, he knew that the boastful male did actually care about the lives of the demi-Fae, and would help him if he could.

Not that it meant that he was excited to repay the favor the male thought he was owed – the last time Fenrys had called in a favor, the pair of them had woken up in an abandoned cottage nearly ten miles away from where they’d been staying, soaking wet, short two purses full of gold coin, and absolutely no memory of the night before.

Fenrys still told the story at every possible opportunity.

Rowan growled at the paper in his hands, forcing his thoughts away from the infuriating male. Instead they fell on Gavriel. Which honestly wasn’t that much better.

Rowan had known many of the soldiers in Gavriel’s company. Many of them had families, had mates that would now be mourning them. The emptiness in his chest twisted.

Rowan drafted a quick reply, relaying the information he had gathered on the appearance of the new bodies, as well as the inferences he had been able to make about the dark creature. It wasn’t much.

A few days later, another surprise. Lorcan had also received his letter, and bothered to respond.

Whitethorn –

So you ended up training the girl. My condolences.

I’ve never heard of anything remotely similar to whatever this creature is. It doesn’t sound like anything blessed by Hellas, or by any other of the gods. Are you sure that it isn’t just the skinwalkers?

I am still in the southeast, the rebels are proving harder to put down that originally thought. Don’t bother me again for anything unimportant.

– Lorcan Salvaterre

Rowan’s face twisted into a frown. Well, at least he’d responded at all.

Each evening he listened to Emrys’ stories, usually hidden beneath the stairs just out of sight. The girl's black eye and split lip had begun to fade, while her limbs had strengthened, her skin regained some color, and in general, she began to look healthier. More human.

Perhaps because of that fact, he didn’t overhear any more worried conversations between Emrys or Malakai, nor did he catch any strange looks from them. Though the girl still kept away from others in the fortress, it seemed that she was settling in to life at Mistward.

Nightmares still plagued Rowan, and every morning he was jerked from sleep well before dawn, sweat coating his limbs and images flashing behind his eyes. But occasionally, something different flickered through his mind. A set of lips, the taste of jasmine, a flicker of flame –

Whenever that happened, Rowan threw himself into the misty wind, coating himself in its icy touch and locking those thoughts away where he didn’t have to deal with them.

A week after the incident with the skinwalkers, Rowan collected the girl from the kitchens at noon as usual, and they made their daily trek up the mountain to the temple ruins, the girl’s mortal pace somehow having become even more irritating with time.

It was unusually sunny that day, and the echo of the power within the temple stones felt stronger, richer than usual. As did the girl’s. Not that it seemed to make any difference with her shifting.

They sat for just over two hours, mostly silent among the glowing stones, before the girl stood, groaning. She paced for moment, her hands on her hips, studying the stones.

She looked around as if she could feel the effect of Mala’s touch as well, could hear the whispered prayers of long-dead worshippers, begging the goddess for her blessing.

She broke through the heavy silence. “What was this place, anyway?”

Rowan dogged her steps, leashing his irritation at the impertinent question. “The Sun Goddess’s temple.”

She cocked her head. “You’ve been bringing me here because you think it might help with mastering my powers – my shifting?”

He nodded faintly.

The girl turned and placed her hand on the stones, soaking up their warmth, lost in thought. Only the vague outline of the temple remained, the barest imprint of a brick path, crumbling pillars strewn about like abandoned toys.

For some reason, its loss saddened him. An ancient place of fire and worship, destroyed and forsaken by time.

The princess broke through his reverie unexpectedly, “Mab was immortalized into godhood thanks to Maeve,” she ran a hand down the jagged block, musing aloud. “But that was over five hundred years ago. Mala had a sister in the moon long before Mab took her place.”

Deanna and Mala, sisters and eternal rivals, keepers of the sun and the moon. “Deanna was the original sister’s name. But you humans gave her some of Mab’s traits. The hunting, the hounds.”

“Perhaps Deanna and Mala weren’t always rivals.”

Rowan cocked his head. “What are you getting at?”

She just shrugged, running her pale fingers over the white granite. “Did you ever know Mab?”

He was quiet for a long moment, considering.

“No,” he said at last. “I am old, but not that old.”

“Do you feel old?”

The question was pointed, but not aggressive. She wasn’t asking as a challenge, or a taunt. For some reason, she wanted to know. It was a question to seek understanding, not dominance.

So he answered. “I am still considered young by the standards of my kind.”

She did not relent. “You said that you once campaigned in a kingdom that no longer exists. You’ve been off to war several times, it seems, and seen the world. That would leave its mark. Age you on the inside.”

Curiosity broke though him, threading its way through his ice like roots pushing into the earth. He turned his gaze towards her, “Do you feel old?”

She met his gaze calmly, measured and quiet as she considered the question. “These days, I am very glad to be a mortal, and to only have to endure this life once. These days, I don’t envy you at all.”

Her words were heavy things laid at his feet. But still, that curiosity did not let up. “And before?”

She turned away, looking at the distant horizon. “I used to wish I had a chance to see it all – and hated that I never would.”

The burden of royalty – of an heir. A burden he had never felt, though he was a prince. Before Lyria, he had passed his life attempting to escape just such a trap as the princess had been born into. But after her death, he had sold himself into his own gilded cage. It was strange - in a way, they were almost similar, both trapped.

Rowan formed another question, but before he could ask it, the girl spoke again, sidetracking him. “Is this where the stags were kept – before this place was destroyed?”

Just last night, Emrys had told the story of the sun stags, ancient beings who held an immortal flame between their massive antlers, so similar to their cousins in the west. The stags of Terrasen. They had once been stolen from a temple in this land, never to be seen again.

“I don’t know. This temple wasn’t destroyed; it was abandoned when the Fae moved to Doranelle, and then ruined by time and weather.”

“Emrys’ stories said destroyed, not abandoned.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Again, what are you getting at?”

She paused. Then shook her head at the ground and said, “The Fae on my continent—in Terrasen … they weren’t like you. At least, I don’t remember them being that way. There weren’t many, but …” She swallowed hard. “The King of Adarlan hunted and killed them, so easily. Yet when I look at you, I don’t understand how he did it.”

His mouth twisted into a frown. All those lives, snuffed out, because of one man’s cruelty. For the first time, he was angry at his queen for her pettiness, for her refusal to send aid. It wasn’t only this girl’s fault that Terrasen had fallen – he should have been there. Should have helped.

“I’ve never been to your continent, but I heard that the Fae there were gentler – less aggressive, very few trained in combat – and they relied heavily on magic. Once magic was gone from your lands, many of them might not have known what to do against trained soldiers.”

“And yet Maeve wouldn’t send aid.” Her jaw was clenched, her brow furrowed.

“The Fae of your continent long ago severed ties with Maeve.” He paused again, unsure why he was justifying, but still unwilling to admit to this foreign princess that his queen had been wrong, and needlessly cruel. “But there were some in Doranelle who argued in favor of helping. My queen wound up offering sanctuary to any who could make it here.”

She seemed to sigh, closing her eyes for only a moment as she stepped away from the ancient carvings and back to her usual spot, the scent of her boundless grief and guilt and ache wafting from her like a perfume.

They sat in silence until twilight descended and they returned to the keep, night blanketing them in its heavy folds.

···

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cygnusfae · 4 years

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i loved you more than i meant to

in which roman reminisces on his first meeting with logan and has the gayest birthday morning ever. a background to my romeo and juliet au with romantic logince

word count: 2.1k

tws: alcohol, beheading mention, implied internalized homophobia, implied period typical homophobia

a/n: shoutout to my lovely beta reader @airiervessel as i cannot grammar for the life of me

read on ao3

This party was a disaster. What else could be expected of an event that didn’t have any of the amazing Roman Escalus’ creative input? It was absolutely dull, lacking true substance and a certain panache. A je ne sais quoi or whatever the French said.

Currently, Roman was sat at a free table, idly spinning an empty silver wine goblet before noticing his cousin, Count Janus, and his disapproving glare from across the table. Him and his stupid creepy face. Roman stuck his tongue out at him and slammed the goblet back onto the table, reaching for the bottle of wine next to it. He could almost hear Janus’ scolding. Whatever. This party stunk anyway. More guests began flooding in after being announced, high nobility and that sort of thing. All of them sounded the same to Roman anyway.

He took another sip of this bitter wine. “You would truly think”, Roman grumbled under his breath, “that being prince would allow Thomas to get the finest wine possible. It's absolutely abysmal.” He let out a truly dramatic sigh, and dropped to rest his head on the table. Really, the decorations were hopeless. The tapestries were so last century. And what kind of goblets were these?

“I would have at least chosen the gold goblets to complement the purple drapes.” He let out another theatrical groan and closed his eyes, then opened them again. He turned to the entrance. A true spectacle was about to begin, it seemed.

The squire at the door coughed loudly. Eyes around the room seemed to settle on him. “Announcing, Lord and Lady Montague, with Lord Patton Montague and Lord Logan Montague.”

It was like a fairytale. Roman loved those. He loved reading them as a child, the romanticized ideals of the world and of love. He wanted love like from a fairytale, once upon a time. But fairytale love wasn’t in the books for someone like him. So he gave up on having his own romance and decided to put his passions in art, in his creative pursuits. Into helping others, providing justice and being like the princes in his books. Even if he never got to woo a handsome knight, that was fine with him. He was fine with the occasional flirt, a short lived tryst or daring escapade. That was fine with him. Kind of.

But if Roman didn’t know any better, this was as close to the fairytales as he could get. It was as if he was enchanted, spellbound by the man before him. He sat up, gripping the silver wine goblet in front of him. This Logan Montague- Who was he? He briefly remembered hearing about the Montagues and Capulets, rival merchant families. Something about a big feud. He didn’t care for it much, but now he started to pay attention.

This Logan… he looked fascinating. Like an enigma. His face seemed bored, casually unreadable. Everything about him was sharp and angular, geometric and cutting. Even his spectacles, rectangular cut glass, stood sharply on the bridge of his nose. He looked as if he were carved from marble, sculpted by the finest artisans and craftsmen. He had to talk to him. This was a challenge he couldn’t resist. Roman nodded, as if to himself. He took a swig of his wine, turned it from one sip to three then four then just decided to finish it. He steeled himself, and got up to meet him. But Logan disappeared into the crowd.

Roman frowned. How did he get away so easily? The floor was a mass of swirling robes, colorful figures winding around each other in perfect step to the music. Roman almost growled. “Curse it all!” How difficult could it be to find one devastatingly handsome man? His blue tunic was very distinctive, a particular dark blue shade that reminded Roman of the night sky. Just look for that. How difficult could it be?

Very difficult indeed. Roman must have spent almost the entire night looking. The guests were slowly trickling out, but the Montagues still remained. He had even gone to Montague's son, Patton, and asked but to no avail. However, he did have a lovely conversation with the gentle young lord, so at least he may have gotten himself a new friend. But not what he was looking for. Great. Now he had missed a chance to be with someone new rather, than seem clingy and desperate and go back to one of his previous conquests. Roman sighed, standing at the edge of the room, his refilled goblet in hand. His eyes narrowed, taking a long, slow sip of the wine. He’d had enough of people watching. He needed fresh air. He stepped outside to the courtyard and found himself almost walking into a dark blue tunic.

Logan was standing next to a fountain, eyes toward the sky and back to Roman. He didn’t even seem to notice that Roman was there at all. He cleared his throat, but there was no response. Logan shifted, moving to sit down next to the fountain. Still, he looked up towards the moon and stars. Roman moved closer, leaning on the wall next to the fountain. Nothing.

“Good evening my dear fellow. Kind sir, would you oblige me and give me a word?”. Logan finally turned to look at him, but his face seemed annoyed and irritated. Well, Roman felt his enchantment lift slightly at the other man’s sour expression. “The moon is high and wits are waning, apparently, as I am not your dear, nor in the mood for the exchanging of words.” Roman blinked. He was a feisty one apparently, but he was not one to back down from a challenge. He put on his most dazzling, charming, roguish grin as he leaned in towards Logan.

“Well, not so gentle fellow of mine, how can I refrain from dubbing thee ‘my dear’ when thou art dearest to mine own heart?” Logan made a sort of angry growl in the back of his throat, which should not have made Roman’s heart feel larger than his chest.

“Do not presume me foolish, Roman Escalus. I do not wish to partake in one of your famed escapades, nor be a battle that you intend to conquer.”. Oh no. Roman might have misread the young man entirely.

“Why my dear Montague, if you only wished to tell me that you held affection for another fair maiden, then why didn’t you tell me thusly?” At this, Logan flushed. Oh no. Roman might have misread the situation incorrectly twice.

Logan, now turned a lovely pale rose, quietly grumbled under his breath. “‘My dear’, I hold affection for no maid nor do I hold affection for such fairer of the sexes.” Now it was Roman’s turn to flush. But Logan wasn’t finished.

“Now, ‘my dear’, I believe quite firmly that tis you who art behaving quite unfairly. You believe me some fragile damsel when perhaps you should reconsider your phrasing.” Strike three for Roman, but he was nothing if not persistent.

“Sweet, gentle Montague, I do not believe thee a helpless maiden. Why, I think thou art the loveliest of the faeries, enchanting me, luring me away to the woods.” Roman lifted his head, looking to their silvery reflections in the water before hearing Logan snort and quietly snicker. Roman’s head whipped back up to meet Logan’s gaze. “How rude! I think that was a lovely compliment!”

Logan adjusted his glasses before staring straight into his eyes. “The existence of the rumored fae folk is highly unlikely and unrealistic. Thou shalt have to be cleverer in an attempt to woo me, my dear Roman Escalus.”.

Roman’s heart performed a strange flutter in his stomach, which worried him slightly. But he still gasped in faux horror. “Oh Logan Montague, the blasphemy! Queen Mab shalt have your head for the feast tonight, as consequence for your insolence.”

“Fae are but beings of fantasy and whimsy, and I put no faith in such things Roman!”

“Oh, truly, it pains me to hear of your untimely demise due to your disbelief.”

“I swear-”

Roman grinned as Logan began on a passionate rant. Perhaps this party wasn’t so dull after all.

---

Roman blinked open his eyes. Sunlight filtered through the open window, curling wisps of breeze floating in from under the edge of the curtain. He was in his room. The dream was truly vivid, as if he was back at their first meeting only four years ago.

He shivered slightly, gooseflesh rising on his bare arms. His palms were warm, resting on Logan’s arms. He was still asleep, his mouth slightly parted with the quietest of sighs. How lucky he was, to be blessed with the sight of such an enchanting and lovely creature in his arms.

Roman gently laid the barest of feather light kisses along his shoulders, his lips resting gently on the pulse of his neck. Logan shifted slightly, burying his face deeper into Roman’s neck. If he was to die now, it would be a gift from the heavens to die in this position.

He gingerly lifted his hand to run his fingers through Logan’s hair, moving it away from his forehead. At this, Logan began to lightly stir. Eyelashes fluttering open, Roman got a glimpse of his pale blue eyes blinking at him. He groaned, slumping father down into the blankets and resting his head on Roman’s stomach. Slightly muffled, he muttered, “Who gave the sun the right to part night’s dark curtains this early?”

“Tis only the eighth hour of morning, my dearest star.” Logan lifted the covers higher, bringing them over his head.

“Still too early.”

“Well my dear, might I at least retrieve your spectacles for you?” At his nodding, Roman reached over to where they were haphazardly placed the night before on a cushion laying on the floor. He gently lifted the blankets only to snicker quietly. Logan looked ever ruffled, like a particularly fluffy bird. Spectacles were replaced on heads and blankets were removed. Logan began idly tracing constellation patterns on Roman’s collarbone, having risen considerably more than earlier. Roman frowned. This one was familiar, itching at the back of his brain.

“Libra? No, I give up. Cursed stars, which one is this?” Logan smirked, having one upped him finally after being evenly matched for the first few patterns. “Oh wise and brilliant prince, I would have thought you able to recognize this one?”

Roman shook his head. “I concede; I surrender. My brilliant scholar, do enlighten me.”

“The constellation is Gemini, the star pattern you were born under.” That's why it had seemed so familiar. He had seen its shape in one of his books. He was more surprised at Logan.

“You remembered?” Logan’s face, which was playfully competitive, had softened. “How could I not? The day of your birth must have proved a pivotal date in the turning in the earth. I could never forget.”

Roman held Logan tighter, resting his head in the crook of Logan’s neck. Logan murmured into his neck, his warm breath making the hair stand up. “It’s your eighteenth year, our third year together. I couldn’t forget that either.”

The dream still had not left his mind. He wondered, and decided to ask, “Do you remember how we first met?”

“Of course. The party was disgraceful, I had rather looked at the stars instead.”

“And I would have rathered to look at you.”

“And we bickered all night.”

“A pair of squabbling hens were we.”

“Goodness, we certainly must have frustrated each other to no end.”

“Truly. Lucky for you however, I still love you.”

Oh no. He did not just say that. Roman felt panic rising in his chest, he must have said that way too soon. Logan was sure to be scared off. This was his first time truly loving someone, and he really hadn’t even expected himself to love Logan truly. Did he even love him back? His thoughts were cut off with a gentle press of lips to his.

“I love you too. I shall love you until every star in the night sky burns out and even then will continue to love you for years after.”

“And I believed myself the more dramatic one.” Logan rolled his eyes, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I could almost hear your thoughts travelling far away. I endeavoured to make sure you aware of my own thoughts.” Roman shushed him with another kiss.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” Now that he said it once, he couldn’t stop. He murmured the phrase into Logan’s lips, as if to stamp the phrase onto his mouth. I love you’s were pressed into his shoulders, his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. As if to cover his whole skin, to let love melt into the pores of his skin.

“I shall love you till I part with this mortal coil and even then, for eternity in the heavens above.” Logan sighed, gently brushing his lips against Roman’s collarbone.

“Till the sun and stars burn out and for eternities after.”

“Do you promise?”

“I do.”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides au #romeo and juliet au #thomas sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #logince #romantic logince #happy birthday roman #my writing #tw alcohol #sanders sides fic

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mor-rigan · 5 years

Text

An Alliance of Fire and Night

Its here! My ToG/ACoTaR crossover fan fiction!

I’m so excited to finally be able to start putting this story out and having people read it. I’m hoping for it to be a longer fic, so stay tuned! As for updates, I’m going to try to get new chapters up every week, if not sooner. I don’t live on Tumblr, so please have patience. Sometimes it will be longer than a week before I update. Thank you all for your understanding, and happy reading!

Tags: @viajandosinalas @dagypsygirl @aelin-godkiller @bookworm-lovemarvel @starrynightren @throne--of-sass @princess-of-eyllwe @shyvioletcat @badwolf084 @blades-are-for-skating-ya-dingus @smartass-mee @sassysaltysarcasticstupid @maadsrevolution @resignedcatservant @admantum (I’m sorry if I missed anyone else that wanted to be tagged!)

Chapter One

~ Aelin ~

Aelin Galathynius sat with her eyes closed in the gardens of her castle; her face was upturned to the rain. It ran down her forehead to pool in the corner of her eyes, then fall down her cheeks like tears. The queen was not sad, however, and when she got sick of the droplets, she would lift the water from her face with that kernel of water magic and flick it away.

It was a joyous day despite all that was going on and all she had to do. It was her and Rowan’s sixtieth wedding anniversary, and also the day they celebrated winning the war against Erawan and Maeve. It hadn’t been an easy road, and many rules were broken. Elena had defied those self-proclaimed gods all those years ago, so she had as well.

But that was a thought for later. Her mate was away hunting with the rest of the cadre while Lysandra planned the festivities. The rain had been unexpected but manageable. The ballroom in the Palace of Orynth was more than accommodating for the guests that would arrive, and Manon would arrive with her witchlings soon.

Not witchlings anymore, Aelin reminded herself. The Crochan and Crown Princesses of Adarlan, Asterin and Rhiannon, were approaching fifty years old. Gods, Aelin couldn’t believe she was almost eighty herself. Perhaps immortality would never fully sit right with her. Especially since she’s seen so many comrades - no, family - die over the years. Sam, Nehemia, Elide, Lorcan, Chaol, Yrene, Dorian, and so many more that worked to help her in the war.

Part of Aelin always hoped that her little group would live forever, but not everyone is blessed with immortality. Elide may have had witch blood in her veins, but it wasn’t enough to make her Settle. Lorcan had tied his life to hers, and they both passed from old age in the same year, four summers ago. Elide passed first, and Aelin truly believed that Lorcan died of a broken heart. The idea originally made her laugh, considering how cold the bastard once was.

Chaol and Yrene were only mortal. Yrene was the best healer both Adarlan and Terrasen had ever seen after Mab; and Lydia - Chaol and Yrene’s daughter - was doing her mother proud by carrying on her legacy. She even taught her son his grandmother’s magics. Chaol was a tough son of a bitch, Aelin knew for sure, and one of the best friends she ever had despite their rocky history. They both died peacefully in their sleep, slipping into the afterlife together because of their bond. Something, Aelin realized sometime later, she was grateful for. There was a time when she didn’t think any of them – regardless if they were fae or human – would see old age.

Dorian had been one of the hardest to come to terms with. Aelin had thought for sure he would Settle since he was Mala’s scion just as much as she was. But as time went on, there were no tell-tale signs of Settling, and his hair began to turn gray. Manon had become with child when Dorian was thirty, and he was able to give his daughters a full life before he passed just last year. Aelin teared up just remembering the last time she had seen him – so frail and delicate in old age despite still having the spark of the friend she always knew. He had been a good King of Adarlan and rebuilt his country’s legacy after his father destroyed it. When he finally passed from difficulties of illness, it had been a difficult time for everyone, but Manon took it the hardest.

The Crochan Queen went into recession, and only brief letters from her daughters gave peace of mind that the White Witch was alright. This celebration would be the first time since Dorian’s death that Aelin would talk to Manon or the witchlings in person. And she was honestly anticipating it. She admitted to herself often that she missed her ally and friend.

A sigh heaved Aelin’s shoulders at the same moment a pine-and-snow-scented breeze disturbed the rain. It was a different scent from Terrasen’s; something alive tethered it to her mate, as true as an actual rope. Aelin could follow that smell for miles and know Rowan would be waiting for her at the end of it.

The breeze seemed to say, Why are you sad, Fireheart?

Aelin tried to shake her mood off and changing the subject by sending a wave of heat dancing with sparks along that invisible rope in answer. I must truly be irresistible if you’re thinking of me even when hunting beings from the Rift.

You’re always on my mind, milady. That answering breeze had more of an icy bite to it, but Aelin blushed as she remembered the truly depraved things they did last night. They never needed an occasion to fuck each other until the early hours of morning, but there was something different when their anniversary came. Like a deep instinct that beckoned their bodies together.

I’m sure, Aelin sent back with flame instead of sparks, I’m surprised you can even walk.

Aelin could practically hear Rowan’s chuckle on the wind, as if he carried it directly to her. I should be saying that to you.

Indeed, Aelin closed her legs tighter together, and the hickeys on the inside of her thighs slightly throbbed. They were healing, but still prominent. They had been sore enough this morning that she opted to wear a flowing gown instead of a tunic and pants. Damn her king. Her wonderful lover of a mate.

Unable to help herself, she sent a bone-warming stream along the rope. A gentle, suggestive caress. Perhaps we can fit in a round two before the party tonight.

Oh no, my queen, Rowan replied instantly, With the things I want to do to you, I’ll need much longer than an hour. The wind he sent with that particular comment had her breasts tightening.

Fine, King, Aelin said back, that mated tether singing with heat and ice, I’ll be waiting here planning the party with Lysandra and the others. And though she was known for her sass and snark, after a heartbeat, the Heir of Fire sent another soothing flame down the bond. Be safe and return to me in one piece.

Always, Fireheart. Then the bond went silent.

It was likely almost noon, so the queen figured she should at least check on the progress of things. Hesitantly, Aelin rose from her spot and peered over her kingdom. Finally healing, it seemed, and the Kingsflame was still in full bloom even after all this time – showing the safety and prosperity her rule promised. It warmed her heart, and she could only hope that her uncle and her parents were proud of all that she had accomplished. She felt proud of herself, at least, given everything she had been through and everything she had sacrificed to get here.

Finally pulling herself from her thoughts, the queen made her way to the ballroom. As she traversed the palace, noises from the planning became louder. The union of their King and Queen was something all of Orynth celebrated. The night was celebrated as a liberation from darkness and a promise for a brighter future. It has already become a tradition that carried through a generation. Initially, people had even tried to bring gifts, but Aelin refused them after so long. She was grateful, but she wanted her people to care for themselves before her. Merciful and caring, but a leader, nonetheless.

Aelin finally reached the ballroom where most of the planning and decorating was occurring. She couldn’t spot Lysandra, but she knew the shifter was in here.

“Your Majesty!” A familiar voice called. Aelin’s head snapped to see a small, plump woman waving her hand at her. She couldn’t help but smile and stifle a giggle.

“Hi Loralei,” Aelin greeted through as the woman approached, “Did you need help with anything?” The queen honestly hated talking so formally, but she felt it odd to speak otherwise outside of her inner circle of family. Even though this woman may as well be her best friend with how many escapades she’s made to the kitchen for a late-night snack when Rowan was fast asleep. Though, she’d never tell Lysandra that.

“Not so much help as a confirmation,” Loralei said, “I pride myself in knowing your favorite foods at this point, but I just thought I would make sure.” The cook listed off the menu for the night, which only made Aelin’s near empty stomach gurgle. Gods, she was starving and hadn’t realized. Loralei could probably tell and beckoned for the queen lower.

Aelin stooped enough for the woman to whisper in her ear: “There’s leftover cinnamon bread in the kitchen. I’m sure no one would notice if you slipped a piece over the fire with some butter.” Aelin stood and received a wink from the cook, which made her smile. She could kiss this woman. Woman – a funny word to describe the girl Aelin had seen grow up from the time she was born, to then take her father’s place as the palace’s head cook.

“Thank you,” Aelin replied at last, “Everything sounds great. Just tell Rowan and the rest of those vultures that the hazelnut cake is reserved for the ladies.” They both shared a friendly laugh, then the cook was off to start and finish her duties. Aelin was off to find Lysandra.

* * *

~ Feyre ~

“Is there any news?”

The Inner Circle gathered in the House of Wind. Strange portals had started opening around Prythian, letting beasts as foul as the Attor back into the land. It wasn’t anything Rhys or the Inner Circle or even I couldn’t handle, but it was concerning. Cauldron knows what else may come out.

“None,” Amren said as she studied all of our faces, “From any of the other High Lords anyway. The rifts aren’t becoming more frequent, but they aren’t slowing down either. As for the Shadowsinger – he, Nesta, and the other Heir of Night are still dealing with a rift that was sighted near Illyria.”

The news wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst. I didn’t particularly like that Demetra was with them, but she was sixty years old this year – long since becoming a woman. As for the portals…Manageable. It was manageable for now. I just had to remind myself of that.

“Have you consulted the Book?” Rhys asked without missing a beat. Amren’s sharp eyes snapped to him. They were a dull gray color now, but her years alone held the power she needed to make anyone cower.

“I read that book cover to cover eighty years ago. Anything I can get out of it, I did when we fought Hybern.”

“That means there’s more,” Leirus spoke, “You read everything you could, which implies there is something you couldn’t.” Everyone’s attention was on him, but he did not balk – even from Amren. Something I’m sure he learned from his father, though he was probably just as nervous as the rest of us.

“Yes, Heir, there is more,” Amren admitted as she crossed her arms, “The rest of the text is in a language even older than me.”

Older than Amren – the only person we had that could remotely understand any ancient or otherworldly texts we encountered.

“There has to be someone,” I chimed in, “A historian, a librarian, someone who has the ability to read it.”

“Perhaps in the Prison, or maybe even Bryaxis, but none have interacted with him since the War,” Rhys said, and it went quiet for a moment. It was left unsaid, but I know at least Rhys thought of the Bone Carver or the Weaver – Stryga as she was named. But they were truly lost in the War. Bryaxis had merely taken an extended vacation it seemed.

“What if Bryaxis is the cause of the portals?” Leirus suggested. Cassian seemed to consider it for a moment but stayed silent.

“It’s possible, but the portals are appearing all over Prythian,” Rhys pointed to the blots of dark ink on a map where we had marked portal sightings, “If it were him – or one person – I would think that they would appear in a consistent location.”

“Unless he – or whoever – is doing this isn’t trying to open a portal to their home world, like we thought, but to bring something to us.” By the Mother, I saw so much of Rhys in our son. Not only from his appearance, but from the way he talked and took lead in trying times. It made me proud as his mother, but I worried all the same.

The Inner Circle contemplated his suggestion with true possibility. He did have a point, but –

“Who would do that?” Mor asked what we were all thinking. And none of us knew. Unless a Hybern sympathizer was trying to spark a resurgence, there was no one we knew of who would ruin this time of peace.

Before more discussion could be had, the doors opened. Azriel, along with Nesta and Demetra, walked in. Their gates were tense – as one would be after a battle – but not urgent.

“How did it go?” I was the one to ask. Still, Cassian said nothing.

“The same as usual,” Demetra answered, “The portal was already closed by the time we got there, but the beasts were still in the area. Our shadows were able to scout them all out, and we exterminated them.”

Manageable, I heard in my mind. I looked to Rhys and his eyes softened, and I gave him a grateful smile.

But for how long? I didn’t have to ask it – everyone was already thinking it.

“None of them can – or would – talk,” Nesta added, “When interrogated, they only growled or made other animal noises. So, I doubt they’re intelligent beyond the desire to kill.” Azriel didn’t need to speak his confirmation, we all saw it in his face.

It went quiet again. Then: “What if we went into one? A portal, I mean.”

All of us visibly recoiled as Cassian made the suggestion. “Are you an idiot?” Amren demanded, “We speak of not even being able to understand their origins, but you want to walk into one without second thoughts?”

All of us seemed to be in agreeance. It would be suicidal to go through one of the portals with no understanding of them.

“Look, I know it’s not the best idea –”

“It isn’t an idea at all,” Mor snapped.

“But,” Cassian continued after giving the blonde female a pointed look, “I’ve been thinking that the portals aren’t coming from someone in Prythian at all. Beings from other worlds have been coming to Prythian for eons. Think of the Bone Carver, Bryaxis – hell, even Amren.”

“And look at those of us you mentioned,” the Second practically growled, “We were stuck here, never to return to our worlds because we did not know a way.”

“Besides,” this time, to my surprise, it was Azriel who spoke, “Even if we knew a way back, what good would going through one of the rifts do?”

“It could take the fight to whoever is causing this.” Cassian sounded sure – almost too sure. I caught Rhys’s eyes with my own, and they mirrored my concern.

“It isn’t an option. At least right now,” Rhys said. I couldn’t help the sinking in my stomach at the words right now. Like the suicide mission could be a possibility later on. “If we could find a way to open a portal home, then it’s a possibility. But for now, we deal with what is happening here. We protect our lands and people.”

We all looked to Cassian, and he nodded his understanding, thank the Mother. I felt the whole room relax just a bit more.

“Good,” Rhys continued, “Amren, continue with the Book. Have Elain help you search the library, as well.”

“I’ll help as well,” Leirus added, earning an acknowledging nod from Rhys.

“Azriel and Demetra: stay on portal duty. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to have your shadows out scouting.” A nod from our daughter and Azriel.

“Mor, if you could act as an ambassador for us. Just go to the other courts and see if you can find out anything more from the other High Lords. Try to access any archives they may have.” Mor nodded.

“The rest of us will act as protection. Nesta, if you could go back to Illyria and watch over things there – Feyre, Cassian, and I will handle here and anywhere else on the continent that needs help.”

With all of our duties assigned, the Inner Circle dispersed, leaving Rhys and I alone in the room. “Everyone seemed so quiet and grim. I don’t like it,” I admitted as I brought my arms around myself. I never like seeing my family so serious, especially Mor and Cassian. And for Cassian to suggest such a ludicrous idea…

“They’re all just tense, darling,” Rhys said. I felt a caress of night in my mind, settling my reeling thoughts, “We all are. But I promise it will sort out.”

I nodded this time, something I noticed a lot of during the meeting. None of us have anything left to say, I suppose, as we all knew the general problem. The portals started appearing months ago, and the beasts that came with them wrought havoc on anything they came in contact with. They were foul and vile creatures – a darkness that was near indescribable.

“You’re still thinking too much, my love,” Rhys said softly. His hands cupped my face, and I couldn’t help but to relax with him this close to me.

“How can I not? Our Court and our family are in danger.” I thought of our children, but Rhys already knew.

“Leirus and Demetra are young in terms of Fae, yes. But they are smart and powerful, just like all of us. We will still be here for them, just as they are here for us.”

I smiled and pressed my forehead to Rhys’s. “I know.”

Rhys tilted my head up and gave me a grin that still had my heart leaping, then he pressed his lips gently to mine. To soothe, not to arouse despite myself. Cauldron damn me. And Rhys knew, too, though he pulled away.

“Feyre, darling,” he teased, “Right now? In the middle of such turmoil on the continent?” I slapped his chest mockingly. He says that as if he didn’t have me screaming only last night. A wicked grin followed by a wink told me he knew exactly what I thought about. Bastard.

“You –” I didn’t get to finish my banter before a thundering boom shook the mountain. All of Velaris, it seemed. It had Rhys and I separating immediately, and both of our clothes were replaced with Illyrian armor and steel blades.

Darkness filled the sky as a vortex formed in the clouds. The darkness was forming from the center. A rift was forming right over Velaris.

#tog #acotar #tog x acotar #my writing #mine #aaofan #an alliance of fire and night

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luxmaeastra · 2 years

Note

Hyperion stared at his hands watching them tremble. The last few centuries was any of it real? Had he tortured the female who took Rhiannon from them? Or his sister? Had he found his mate or he always had her?

He didn't look to the corner, he could feel her in any case.

"Were the children real? Was any of it I —"

"The younger ones were wraiths, Shades made more and more real with your belief. Antheia was - you stopped listening to me, I had to do something to get to you."

Thalia hovered closer wrapping her arms around his neck. His eyes closed, his shoulders trembling - the bed didn't dip with her weight.

"I killed you, I blinded —"

"Yes you did. But you don't seem happy by it —"

"Of course not!"

He finally looked to her, Thalia smiled making him roll her eyes. She used to do that - make some ridiculous statement to get him to look to her. He remembered how those arguments ended, the laughter or other noises that would fill their room.

"Cato gods is he —"

"He's real my love. He's real. He saved you —"

Hyperion stood walking to the fireplace. He couldn't hear Viren or his father anymore. He wasn't sure what this silence meant. Where were they keeping his son??

"He shouldn't have to. He - why? Why - why did I become this. I knew what Mab was like, I swore I'd never be her. That I'd be like my mother, kind when —"

He fell to his knees, a hand over his mouth keeping from screaming. Gods his mother - she - how was she handling any of this?! How —

"You know how darling. You've figured that all without me."

He turned to snap at her but the appararation of his Thalia was gone. He stared at his hands again. At the ring that had been missing - had he been stripped of his position and ornaments? He didn't see his signet ring anymore.

He swallowed fingers running over where the ring had been. He vaguely remembered when Viren had given it to him. Some family heirloom, his father had never seen it before. But then he and Uncle Viren weren't talking then right? Something about Spring and -

"What is love Hyperion? Love is knowing you'd become a monster for someone you loved. Knowing and reveling in that fact."

Mab had a ring, a bit of her soul tied to it. The Asteri way, a gift from her former employer Cassandra.

Had - of course his uncle would do something like this. He'd do anything to hurt his father for hurting his mate. And his father loved his children more than anything - more than his own mother.

His eyes closed and he looked to the fire again. He could throw himself into the fire and forget this all happened. His father would believe him, he probably suspected something for awhile anyway. But he - it would lead to another Civil War - could Night survive that?

Could his boy?

He was standing and at the door before he even fully comprehended his decision. He'd die, he'd gladly be executed or take whatever punishment Viren deemed. He couldn't do that to Cato, the poor boy didn't deserve any more of this.

He winnowed from his room to where they kept Cato. Pleasantly surprised to see the boy waiting for him. He fell to his knees pulling Cato into his arms.

"Da! You don't have shadows now! Did I do good? Did -"

Bless this child. He was too good for all of these people. He hushed him and picked him up. The Witches of Varese had always been Thalia's friends. Perhaps they'd raise him as their own. Maybe Solmir would hear him and not —

He stepped away from the door, his grip tightening.

"I can explain."

//For whoever!!! Sarai, Keir etc!!!//

"There is no reason to explain." Sarai closed the door behind her. It had been by her request that both his father and uncle had left the area, he didn't need the arguments and shouting to disturb the peace that he would need as things fell into place. A pit of guilt settled in her, she hated the actions her mate had taken - children were meant to be off limits.

She gave him a small and weak smile, her eyes settled upon Cato before she shook her head slightly. Why did things have to turn out this way? Why did things have to escalate the way they did? She would apologize, but she knew it was not her place. Not that she even excepted he would accept it, after all the action taken against him was for her.

"Cato has been a very good boy, he has been eagerly awaiting you to come to see him," she kept her distance, her hands clasped in front of herself. "If you wish to leave, I have ensured you have safe passage. I have made sure no one will stop you. If you wish to stay, all I can promise is your uncle will not touch either of you, I will make sure of it."

#Muse | Sarai

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diveronarpg · 5 years

Photo

In fair Verona, our tale begins with MONA CHEN, who is THIRTY-FOUR years old. She is often called QUEEN MAB and works as an ASSOCIATE for the Montagues and Capulets. She uses SHE/HER pronouns.

Hers is not a story that starts with a beautiful little girl wrapped in silks and satins, nor is it one borne from unconditional love or a doting mother’s generosity, but is a tale woven purely as the result of a grave MISTAKE—something Mona’s mother never let her forget. She wasn’t planned, but rather thrust upon a woman who never should have bore a child for there was no room in her heart for anyone but herself. As selfish as she was mean, Caroline Chen was a con-artist who SWINDLED men with deep pockets and even deeper insecurities, swooned with just one bat of her lashes and a quirk of her brow, turned pliable and spineless at a simple graze of her fingertips to their lapel. A few words of praise, maybe even a night to remember if she was feeling particularly generous and they were exceptionally handsome, and it wasn’t long before they were laying money by the thousands at her feet. First it started as some sob story told about her very ill daughter, poured on thick with calculated tears from the supposed damsel cuddling beside whichever unlucky BASTARD thought it wise to trust the pretty woman at the bar last night. And as Mona aged, the lies aged with her. Illness turned to a depressing tale of her father abandoning her and her mother, leaving them with nothing but the clothes on their backs and no place to call home, and with such conviction, Caroline weaved a web thick enough to convince one of her conquests to buy them a house. But what of the little girl who’s life is determined by falsities and half-truths, by a mother who saw her daughter as nothing more than a meal ticket? Deception becomes the only way to survive and SECRETS become sustenance.

It doesn’t take a genius to trace back Mona Chen’s roots, the barely-there strings that tie her back to a woman now rotting away in PRISON and the one-night stand that cultivated her existence. It takes her six months to track him down, to get the full story on how he met her mother in a seedy bar, took her back to his hotel room, far too deep into his cup to even realize she’d lifted his wallet and his keys, and never heard from her or his Mercedes again. He had no idea he even fathered a child, and in fact, married three years later and started a family of his own. I have siblings? She’d asked, somewhat wide-eyed but never dumb enough to be truly HOPEFUL. Like a man suddenly aware he revealed too much information, all he did was nod. Took a sip of his side-of-the-road diner coffee and looked out the glass window to his right. They sat there in silence for a bit. Mona took in his visage from beneath her thick, mascara donned lashes, memorized the details of his face, his eyes, his nose, everything that looked like something he’d given her, and then she left. It can’t be said she never gave him a second thought because there are often times when she does exactly that. Think of him. He floats into the edges of her mind as she graduates college, a hard-earned degree in business paid for through less hard work and more STOLEN checks from dalliances too focused on her petal-pink lips and plunging neckline to notice her hand slipping into their breast pocket. Mona walks across the stage, accepts her diploma with a handshake, and distantly wonders if her father would be PROUD. He recedes from her memory as she starts her career, an intern at a financial firm in downtown Verona, clouded by the stress of starting her adult life, but her best-laid plans of shedding her mother’s tangled roots crumble when she’s released from prison, showing up on her daughter’s doorstep looking for a place to stay. A couple weeks, she’d said. Just until I get back on my feet.

Her mother stayed four days and ROBBED Mona blind, taking everything from the few designer dresses she’d managed to afford on her minimal salary down to the silverware. Anything that could be pawned, she took; anything that could be worn, she stole. And perhaps what hurt the most wasn’t that if only her mother had just asked, she would have helped, however begrudgingly it might have been—no, it was that Mona was clearly no better than her FATHER. A source of income, a thing to be used until there was nothing more, left behind once her value had been diminished. Credit cards maxed out and bank account emptied, she lost her apartment the following month. Repossessed by the very banker she’d overtly flirted with to get the lowest rated mortgage, and with such a pompous smile. Like he knew she bit off more than she could chew and proven him right in less than six weeks. Fast and all at once, Mona found herself back on the STREETS with nothing but the clothes on her back to her name. Those, and her wiles at least. The one good thing her mother had ever done for her: taught her all the ways to survive. Her father moves into view those first few nights, the ones she spent on park benches or huddled inside bus terminals to fight off the cold. It took him three years to get his life together after meeting Caroline, after she CONNED him for all he was worth. It takes Mona six months to do the same, and in record time if she does say so herself. She spends her nights at the Emelia first, catering to older men who love to look but never touch. They just want someone to listen, and listen she does. With ears perked up and brows knitted in a perfected feigned sympathy to their first-world blights and white man problems, all while she dips her fingers into their very deep pockets. Her time and attention, she quickly learned, was worth a pretty penny, and it wasn’t long before Mona built herself a clientele, dreams of an EMPIRE slowly coming into view upon the horizon.

She was never a girl built for the white collar life, spending her days catering to the wants and whims of men who thought it funny to slip their palm against her derriere at the copy machine. It was a life she tried, a life she told herself she wanted time and time again; anything to not become exactly like her mother. But like her mother does with all things, she took, she stole that dream, pried it right out of her daughter’s fingers and forced her back down into the dirt from whence she came. Not unlike a PHOENIX, though, Mona rose from the ashes of her mother’s relentless destruction and became anew with many a lesson learned. Never again would she be made into a thing of value for someone else. Nor would she settle for anything less than all the control. And if there’s anything her clients love more than drinking, it’s spouting off at the mouth about all their supposed POWER. One name found its way into her whispers over and over, like a broken record, the man who changed it all, blessed the poor and turned them rich: CAPULET. She went to him with an offer, a business plan to turn his subpar front of a casino into something worth remembering. And what would you give me? He asked, smoke curling out from the sides of his mouth. She answered him with one word and one word only. Access. The deal was simple. Mona passes along whatever whispers are pertinent to the mob’s success and Cosimo garners forty percent of the profits. And thus THE DARK LADY was born. It took little effort to convince her clients to follow her, offering them VIP entry to the newly remodeled den of sin as compensation for their loyalty. Within two years, Mona adds to her ranks, donning her little birds Sparrows and sets them off to gather more whispers, encouraging them to always listen and never stifle the words their clients offer up. Intimacy is never a must, but trust is paramount.

Once upon a time it was an empire Mona wanted, a kingdom forged in her own image, something that was hers and hers alone, but as the years have gone by, she has realized it is within the DARKNESS she shines. When will you join our ranks, tesoro? Cosimo still asks, still begs the question and waits with bated breath for her answer, hoping for her to utter a long-awaited ‘now.’ Why would I do that? She asks back, a quirk to her brow, lips twisted up in a knowing smirk. Here, I’m the QUEEN.

LUCREZIA FALCO & CALINA SOKOLOVA: Emissaries. Where there is a will, there is a way, and Mona Chen’s will is by far the greatest. She is an expert in bending those around her to her will, and if there was anyone strong enough to gently caress the ego of Lucrezia Falco without falling prey to her piercing onyx gaze, it was the Dark Lady herself. The same cannot be said for the Montague, a girl who’s mind and motives Mona cannot seem to pierce or probe despite her best efforts. Calina is not so easily read, nor so easily wooed for her ego is not what matters most to her like the Capulet. It is by a leash the two emissaries think they have the Queen of Whispers, pulled taught around her throat so as to keep her in line and keep the interests of their Dons at the top of her list. Little do they know Mona fastened the collar to her neck by choice; hold your allies close, your adversaries closer.

YAMAMOTO OMI: Favorite. Of all her Sparrows, her exquisite collection of rare beauties, Omi is by far her best and without a doubt her most cherished. It is with an uncharacteristic compassion Mona handles Omi, with soft touches and forehead kisses, offering up words of wisdom at every turn to better the little bird. To further her ability to dissect secrets from the toughest of subjects and show her how to hold on tight to those whispers, for they are the only true currency worth a damn in this city drenched with sin. And to be rich in this respect is of the utmost importance, a necessity to survival. More than anything Mona wishes to see her succeed, and while there’s pleasure to be had in the taking, the real joy comes from wielding such power. There’s no use for a Sparrow on which these teachings falls flat, and Mona has not spent years training Omi to be her best asset if she didn’t think they were capable of greatness—together.

RONAN IVARSSON: Indenture. He is weak, and that is, perhaps, Mona’s favorite thing about him. Privileged in every sense of the term, he glides through life as if this world was made for him, taking whatever he wants and using those he deems as having talents worth his time, but ultimately he is selfish. He uses people like they’re his playthings, and while the same argument could possibly be made against the Dark Lady, she knows how to cover her tracks. But even more so Mona knows how to actually care for people, how to let her walls down and offer entry into her heart, however guarded it may be. It takes strength after the luck, or rather the lack thereof, the universe handed her. For now, he is a slave to his desires, as most men are, and it is a fact that elates Mona for it means he has secrets, and it is those little whispers he thinks he can keep to himself that she is after. Watch yourself, Ronan. Mona Chen sees all; hears all. And how bad it would be if she took your exploits to that little group you’ve pledged yourself to across the bridge.

HARRIET D’ANGELO: Closest friend. There are few people in this city—on this Earth entirely—that she trusts, but Harriet has become one of them. Enigmatic and exceedingly intriguing, Mona was drawn to the woman from the moment the two first met haphazardly at the Tempest. Harriet with nothing more than a regal air of solitude weighing the space she occupied alone, and Mona with a few Sparrows-in-training by her side, the two exchanged pleasantries in line for the bathroom, and as hackneyed as it may be, the rest was history. From their first meeting, there has been a bond, a certain kind of kinship Mona has been deprived of most her life. Someone to share her soul with, not a lover but a love between almost sisters. The madame is quite protective of the D’Angelo woman, especially as her path begins to collide with the seedy underbelly of Verona. And make no mistake, anyone who dares to cross Harriet D’Angelo will have the Dark Lady to answer to.

Mona is portrayed by GEMMA CHAN and was written by SIDNEY. She is currently OPEN.

#mafia rp #bio rpg #lsrp #lsrpg #gemma chan fc #mona chen #ow #w #o #neu

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theuniverseisher · 6 years

Text

Hostage Negotiation

In which Tumblr absolutely dunks on the Discord formatting, starring:

@sunlight-magnificence @fouramour @sixpinsdie @itsjacktheknife @lassofthelaw @cautionarylaw @fastestshadeofgreen @undertakinggraveshift @dilldaydreamer @aceoflaw

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:04 PM

08: @Law

https://theuniverseisher.tumblr.com/post/178198725232/pvt-law

08: ;) ((for those who can't get on tumblr just now))

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:08 PM

WK: ....Release her. NOW!

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:09 PM

She already had her relea--))

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:09 PM

((ADSFGH))

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:09 PM

((don t do th i s

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:10 PM

08: ;) You know my demands.

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:14 PM

WK: You want me to beg, you FILTHY URCHIN?! Please, come here so I can hear your carapace CRACK under my foot.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:15 PM

08: Would somebody please inform His Royal Marshmellow why, precisely, that's ill-advised?

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:17 PM

WK: No, you won't die. I shall just remove every joint from it's socket until you're a shell with a still-beating heart. You will not GET to die.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:18 PM

08: Still not a good idea, cupcake!

Resh (NB)Today at 10:19 PM

NB: Sir! Wait! Wait, she’s, well apparently she’s got the universe inside her! If you kill her, or damage her, maybe, reality itself may break. If the universe dies, we, goddamnit, we all die.

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:22 PM

WK: You're with the Felt then? I will end each and every one of them unless you return here with my wife, NOW.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:23 PM

08: Yawn! 08: Really, you're cute. Thinking that bothers me. 08: Is that all you've got? You must really not care about your wife. 08: My husband would have bent over backwards to get me back. ;)

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:25 PM

WK: How DARE you imply that I do not care. WK: Is that what you want? Wherever you are, bring me there.

Resh (NB)Today at 10:26 PM

NB: Sir!? What the hell are you thinking we need to plan this!

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:26 PM

08: No. 08: I want you to beg. 08: Before all your people. I want them to see you on your knees. 08: Show me how much you want her back, Wilhelm.

ave (PS/Sol)Today at 10:28 PM

PS: Snowman.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:29 PM

08: :)

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:31 PM

06: Hey 06: I'm innocent. 06: Why are we threatening my life, I'm not involved in this. You should consider anger therapy. 06: Your wife gets kidnapped one time and suddenly it's an everyone problem.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:31 PM

SS: oh there you are SS: left me on read you bitch SS: ....but this is pretty great not gonna lie

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:32 PM

08: 💋

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:33 PM

WK: >You kneel where you stand, in the middle of the street in the city. Where everyone can feel your unbridled rage around you at the epicenter. You don't know how or if she could possibly see you, but you're kneeling now WK: PLEASE.(edited)

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:34 PM

06: Haha.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:34 PM

SS: wow

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:34 PM

08: Someone get there and Skype me.

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:34 PM

04: on it.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:34 PM

06: Bitch we use discord now get with the times ))

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:34 PM

(( IT IS, IN HINDSIGHT, A HILARIOUS TIME JOKE TBH

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:34 PM

SS: cant wait to see this shit in the papers

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:35 PM

((LMFAO))

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:35 PM

04: is it just gonna be really obvious where he is, or should i close my eyes and assume i'll end up there.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:35 PM

((pesterchum or bust))

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:35 PM

uninstall AOL messenger u cuck))

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:36 PM

08: Probably obvious! A little limited at the moment myself. FINE AIM ME YOU FUCKS))

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:37 PM

01: yo 01: snow 01: ill pay you for pics

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:38 PM

> Clover manages to find the king in record time, as he do. > There's now a livestream in-chat.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:39 PM

SS: ha!

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:39 PM

08: 3 favors for a set of 5. 5 for 10. 08: Ohh, this is good. 08: Now, see? That wasn't so hard.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:40 PM

01: mmmmm 01: yo WK how much you think snuff of your wife is worth just wondering

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:41 PM

08: I also have a cashapp.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:41 PM

SS: id pay for it

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:41 PM

WK: Don't! Please.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:44 PM

08: Now, see, this is fun! 08: On the one hand, there's the good, sweet husband and law enforcement, who surely wouldn't want queenly blood on their hands--given how Beloved she is to the ruling planet--no matter whether they personally care for her or not. 08: On the other, snuff of a Queen is once in a lifetime. 08: Race to see who has the better offer.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:44 PM

01: definitely rather pay cash i dont trust your uh 01: creativity 01: on favors and shit

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:45 PM

SS: really snow? youre thinkin of leaving her alive?

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:45 PM

08: I'm all ears! Auction starts now. 08: 💋

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:46 PM

WK: Anything you want. Anything. WK: I will do whatever you ask.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:46 PM

08: Anything is dangerous, sweet Marshmallow. 08: Are you absolutely certain of that?

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:47 PM

WK: If you return her, yes.

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:47 PM

04: ooooh.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:47 PM

SS: didnt she take everything from you SS: what fun is it to let her go now that youve got her SS: you should do to her what she wasnt able to do to you SS: cull that bitch SS: and her husband too

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:48 PM

WK: I swear on my life that I will do whatever you ask so long as you return her. Please.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:48 PM

AR: you should also refrain from bribery. and threats. and kidnapping. AR: on a public forum.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:48 PM

08: Oh, darling, sweet Regulator. 08: Eat me. 08: Now then!

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:48 PM

SS: haha

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:49 PM

cop dad banging pots and pans SCATTER))

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:49 PM

SS: he said you could return her so SS: just return her body SS: everyone wins

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:50 PM

WK: ALIVE.

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:50 PM

SS: aw see now youre asking for a lot

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:51 PM

(( doin this for quick not-worth-a-dm-channel exchanges )) [04->08: i dunno, 'on death's edge' is still alive. :P]

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:51 PM

[08->04: ;)] [08->01: You'll get your photos. $Sn0wbitch send the cash.]

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:53 PM

Death: Perhaps not my place, being human, but... there has already been one war between Derse and Prospit. Wouldn't murdering her constitute a second war, and are we all willing to cause a second war over this? I feel you have already... pushed good reason for such.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:53 PM

[01->08: god bless you ya crazy c*nt.] [-Transfers 4k, because this is an investment mon dude.-]

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:54 PM

WK: Do you accept my offer?

Bunny (SS)Today at 10:54 PM

SS: freedom doesnt come cheap SS: kill the tyrants

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:55 PM

[04->08: you deserve more than just 'please', in my opinion!]

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:55 PM

[AR may or may not have just....closed the chat. T-minus 45 minutes for guilt and doing the right thing but I'm going to have a GRAND forty five minutes thank YOU.]

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 10:55 PM

[45 minutes is a long time to allow murder]

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:57 PM

[08->01: I'll send them once we're done here.] 08: Here's what I'm thinking, Wilhelm. 08: Immunity for this little debacle. No arrests, no charges--I walk out of this scot-free, as do my fine band of merry gentleman. No legal retaliation. 08: And I will have my ring back. 08: How's that sounding so far?

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:57 PM

WK: Done.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:57 PM

[AR awknowleges the narrator's point with a steven universe struggling not to crack gif. Time is adjusted accordingly.]

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 10:58 PM

08: Ho. 08: Also this story is going to the press as we've written it, and none of your heroic-twist style narratives. 08: For that little extra salt in the wound.

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 10:59 PM

WK: I don't care. Return her immidiately, or bring me there.

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 11:02 PM

08: No, I won't be bringing you here. 08: And I will return her, when I am good and ready. 08: The drop off with be in front of the Regalia Hotel, two hours from now. 08: There will be no police presence. 08: Only you, and Mister Four of my outfit. 08: Any breech of this contract, and I'll slit her throat before you even get a shot off. 08: Are we perfectly clear on that?

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 11:03 PM

04: 🕓🕗✌💋

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 11:03 PM

WK: Yes. WK: Is everyone clear? Do. Not. Follow. Me.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 11:05 PM

06: That was easy.

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 11:05 PM

04: requesting permission to end stream, boss?

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 11:05 PM

08: Permission granted. 08: Be sure to save that.

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 11:06 PM

04: wouldn't dream of otherwise.-- The video stream cuts off. --

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 11:07 PM

08: A pleasure doing business with you, as always, Wilhelm!

pixel~! (04/Dualscar)Today at 11:07 PM

04: ✨

Imagine Dragons (09/WK)Today at 11:07 PM

WK:....

Mabs (PI/02)Today at 11:07 PM

PI: -Pembrooke Ingleton has signed off-

Carro (DD/08/WQ)Today at 11:07 PM

08: Oh! Yes, Clover,you're quite righht. 08: ✨

#ic #rp thread #Hostage Negotiation

7 notes · View notes

undertakinggraveshift-blog · 6 years

Text

Law at Death’s Door Pt 1

@Law AR and PI will be having a meeting at Pendleton's Parlor, Death's funeral home. AR has extended the meeting to the rest of the law force so. Scene: Death's funeral home. Death: Perplexed and vaguely bewildered Tea: On Coffee: Also on

@dilldaydreamer @lawtula @lassofthelaw @cautionarylaw @dickshalfthesolution @fishprincessofthelaw @ectocrimefighter@redstringsandpidgeons ....I probably forgot a few I’m sorry 8′B

Mabs (PI/02)Today at 8:14 PM

You enter the parlor, pick up your cat who is already waiting for you, and proceed to beeline to the pile of pillows so that you may begin the slow suffocating death of comfort.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 8:21 PM

Death is skittering about, making the parlor people friendly. It's always people friendly, actually, but now it's got a whole lot of law around and Death cannot help but worry he might have a mobster-delivered body around. Oh god, don't somehow magically know about all the real unfortunate bodies buried in unmarked graves. Ahahaha. Anxiety isn't something unbeknownst to Death but lord is it at an all time high. However, he does know the danger is over for now... and things are hopefully settling down, for now, so it eases soon enough. For the officers who have come, a short hallway leads into a large room. Death leads those who come in into the kitchen connected. Nicely lit, with a kitchen table and awaiting chairs. Coffee is in the process of being made and a kettle is on the oven. Uh... snacks are... hm. He should probably make something but, he's only oh so fast and honestly his concerns are more on Pembrooke who went off into hiding for now.

pi3shark (Eridan/AD)Today at 8:25 PM

You drive yourself and Feferi to the parlor in a slightly damaged by yourself car. You are mostly silent during the entire ride, you have turned your phone off and by this point all you want and need is a break. You aren't quite sure if you want to actually go somewhere or you are looking from solace of this mess. You could do with something to de-stress. For now you park out of the Parlor. "Lets go in shall we."

Lissaloo (Ms. Paint/Feferi)Today at 8:28 PM

"Yes sir," you hop out of the car and wat for him by the door. You keep your own phone on, just incase something happens and Eridan needs you. Or Sol. You should check on him too. Another text is shot off. Hopefully your matesprit and friend will be fine.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 8:29 PM

The door is open and waiting, but Death pops up regardless, smiling and tapping his fingers together.

Mabs (PI/02)Today at 8:32 PM

Pembrooke is currently being suffocated by his cat and will make an appearance later once he realizes this is not going to work.(edited)

Resh (NB)Today at 8:33 PM

After making the arrangements for the royalty stay at the hospital, you make sure that all the officers on duty there are up to date. Soon, Amir is texting you with coordinates for a meeting. He doesn’t necessarily soon urgent, so you deem it appropriate to acquire healthy snacks and such for everyone. Heaven knows they probably forgot. You show up and walk through the door with a few bags of food and an expression of weariness, melted only at the sight of who you assumed was Elliot.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 8:36 PM

Death gives Nuavi a mental gold star for showing up with food. A blessed woman.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 8:37 PM

@Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD) [AR>JH: [COORDINATES REDACTED] AR: if you wanted that interview.

pi3shark (Eridan/AD)Today at 8:37 PM

"Hello, thanks for the invite." Ace walks in. "Nuavi, good to have ya here too. " OH FOOD, good lord you could eat a whale.

Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD)Today at 8:38 PM

(JH>AR: RIGHT AWAY SIR over I WILL BE THERE IN 10 over)

Percy (06/💀)Today at 8:38 PM

"Not a problem." He motions down the hall, taking a step while offering to help Nuavi with the bags, jumping right into funeral director mode. "There's coat hangers if you would like to shrug them off. I'll have the doors locked behind you once everyone is here, not to worry. Follow me into the main room and we're settling in the kitchen."

Lissaloo (Ms. Paint/Feferi)Today at 8:39 PM

You enter as well, quiet which is abnormal for you, but you're in a mood and your worried. You go to stand out of the way, leaned against a wall and watch the people around you.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 8:40 PM

(Pokes Mabs into the RP-DMs first!)(edited)

Mabs (PI/02)Today at 8:42 PM

(woops! So much chats!)

Skippy (13/John)Today at 8:44 PM

When you arrive you see some of the others are already here. Oh yay, no awkward being early or last stuff, thank god. You walk up just as Death finishes speaking. "Hey. Officer Egbert reporting for the meeting." You shrug off your jacket and hang it on a coat hanger. "Don't worry, I come prank free." Not really, you have a joy-buzzer in your pocket but that's just because you forgot to take it out earlier. Still, you don't exactly plan on using it. This is serious so it's time to get into serious mode. You follow Death, giving a friendly wave towards Fef.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 8:46 PM

"You're a blessing, Officer Egbert." Death's lip tugs to the side, an amused smile. He leads them towards the kitchen, motioning to the seats if anyone so wished. "Officer Ra... mm, I'm using first names. Amir will be down shortly to speak with you all. I have coffee, and can make tea. Water, milk, and apple juice are options too. For tea there's-- well, I'm not sure how much everyone knows on tea, but feel free to use a descriptor and I'll surprise you I suppose ahaha. Floral, fruity, mint."

pi3shark (Eridan/AD)Today at 8:49 PM

"If you got one of those spicy teas I'm down for that." You are slightly peppier with the mention of possible nutrients. Ace needs nutrients. "If you need setting with anything I'll be glad to help." You say at Death as you are basically tail him around. Thats a way to put that you are nervous and hungry.

Resh (NB)Today at 8:51 PM

You nod at Ace with a smile and let Elliot help you with the bags as you follow the rest of the crowd over to the table. After setting down the snacks, you take everything out and just, dump it there. “F-f-“ You cough, casually, “Free for all sustenance here, if anyone would c-care to indulge.”(edited)

Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD)Today at 8:51 PM

You had no idea if you were supposed to bring something, it was an interview so you thought colombian coffee package was a good gift, would that be considered bad? to bring a gift to your future boss?. You thought so but also you realize that the address wasn't the police station and so maybe this was a bit more personal, besides who makes interviews at this hours of the night. You drive yourself to the...parlor? what. You check the message twice to make sure this is the place. >knock on the door and wait.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 8:56 PM

Spicy, spicy, did he have spicy. Now that was an interesting one he didn't partake in often. Desth watches Ace play the nervous role, and he keeps the smile, brows knitted down. If the man wanted to get to work, he could do that. "Middle shelf, over there-" Death motions in the direction of the cabinet, "There's a number of mugs, cups, and what have you. Please bring enough to the table for everyone, if you could? Now do forgive me, some of you are new faces, and some are those I've only met online... I am Death, or Elliott, Amir might have introduced m-- ah..." Door knock. "One, one moment." He shifts to go answer that real quick.

HandyToday at 8:59 PM

Latula had kind of been privvy to what was going on, but just barely. She'd been outside when everything happened, doing the sk8ter gorl thing before everything went to shit. She spends a good long time marveling at the sight in the sky before the message sends her towards Death's. She kicks her board up into her arms and begins in a walk before approaching the dude waiting outside. He must be new! She stops right next to him and gives him a nudge with her shoulder. "Sup my dude. You here for the big sleepover?"

Percy (06/💀)Today at 9:02 PM

"Hello-- oh! Latula! And ah, a new face I see." He knew the troll thanks to Amir, he talked of her occasionally. The skateboard gave her away, and the well, everything else. "Do come in, Amir will be down shortly I'm sure."

pi3shark (Eridan/AD)Today at 9:02 PM

"alright." Ace follows the instructions as requested, he goes back and forth bringing all those dainty cups and mugs, this are particular of ... huh Elliot as he said. Its interesting. ACe raises an eyebrow, thats the first time you've seen that troll. Ace shoots a look at Feferi like trying to get an explanation before noticing that obviously not all trolls know eachother. Idiot.

Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD)Today at 9:05 PM

"Ah- Jude! i'm Jude It's ah- very nice to meet you " Stretch your hand to salute then don't then again. Try again Jude "T-thanks - over". Don't trip on your own feet when you enter the place.You say on a corner like a god damn spider.

HandyToday at 9:10 PM

Latula giggles at the new guy, turning to beam brightly at the person she recognized as Elliot by description. "Thanks so much for hosting our lil' meeting! It's super awesome of you." She's sure to leave her board by the entrance before following them inside with a tip of her shades.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 9:11 PM

Death chuckles softly at the stumbling. "And I am Death. Pleasure- I think I've seen you about." He makes sure to lock the door behind them, before leading them to the kitchen with the others. "Make that too more cup if you could."

Lissaloo (Ms. Paint/Feferi)Today at 9:12 PM

You eye your phone for any messages, then seeing none, fetches the extra cup for Death.

Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD)Today at 9:14 PM

"Death?...." DO NOT ASK WHY HIS NAME IS DEATH JUDE TAHT'S RUDE "You have? ah- I don't remember you but ah. It's good to meet new people"duck duck duck you follow as tense as a board

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 9:15 PM

AR, feeling very. Very tired. Lets the ducklings mingle while he finishes coffee cup number two, silently closing the door behind him as he returns downstairs. He picks out Elliott in the crowd, giving him as soft a look as he can manage. He cannot thank the man enough. What an excellent host.

Mabs (PI/02)Today at 9:16 PM

Pembrooke finally makes his entrance, holding the tiny potato of a cat in his hands. Bastet immediately wiggles free, new people meant new pets. As she beelines for the one that smells a wee bit fishy, Pembrooke zombies his way to the coffee.

Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD)Today at 9:18 PM

Jude is separated from the crowd holding the coffee hoping somebody would take it.

Lissaloo (Ms. Paint/Feferi)Today at 9:18 PM

Feferi, seeing the cat, kneels and pets like crazy. Nothing like a soft creature to help sooth one's mind

Percy (06/💀)Today at 9:19 PM

"Apologies for that. The door is locked by the by, to let everyone know. I assume there may be others coming, I'll handle that as you all get comfortable." Death offered a hand towards the coffee with a soft inquiry? If given, he'll take that up and incorporate it into the coffee going on. After, Death moved to the tea cupboard, rummaging before finding a spicy chai for Ace. "Introductions, as I was trying to go for, to help me familiarize." He spots Amir and Pembrooke, perking some, but in the process and not about to break it even if he wants to.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 9:28 PM

Zombieing for coffee is the exact verbage applicable. AR steps into the kitchen silently, maneuvering around the crowd of officers, and interrupts Elliott's tea process, looping his free arm around the man's chest to hug him from behind. He needs to convey his gratitude just as much as he needs the scent of chamomile to calm him. He stays like that a bit too long, sluggish from the days events. He breaks the hug with a soft peck and whispered 'thank you' to the side of Elliott's hair. Fuck it. He's too tired to pretend. He proceeds to move past him, settling in front of the counter. The dersite leans for a long moment, looking over the gathered crowd. He assumes they are waiting for him to speak. Hm. ...... A long sigh. A turn behind him to pour another cup of black coffee. And a returns to face his team. "Good evening."

Percy (06/💀)Today at 9:30 PM

Death dies.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 9:30 PM

.......................... He proceeds to quietly, slowly, drink the entire cup of coffee in one go. A fourth is poured. "Let us start with a debriefing."

Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD)Today at 9:31 PM

Jude looks very confused. Why is he in such an important meeting.

Resh (NB)Today at 9:32 PM

Nuavi gets comfortable leaning against one of the walls with a bag of dried fruit. This was her first meeting with Amir, so she was almost excited to see how much of his character she had guessed right.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 9:34 PM

Death's entire momentum is thrown off and he's not sure what to do at this point. Okay so. He was making... a thing. What was he making. Oh, the thing is in hand. Chai tea. ...How make tea. Oh fuck, he didn't say thank yo-- er, you're welcome. You're welcome is what you say to thank you. A noise is made. It's probably a 'You're welcome', and Death then goes back to making the tea for Ace.

pi3shark (Eridan/AD)Today at 9:39 PM

Well thats a thing. Ace just kinda takes a seat.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 9:41 PM

The coffee. It does nothing. "Earlier today, as many of you witnessed..." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Many of you witnessed, our very own white queen had been located, followed by an outburst from the white king, who made arrangements with Snowman of the felt to make an exchange for the queen, completely disregarding proceedings of the law, and if I am being frank, embarrassed our outfit as a whole." He observes particularly the prospitians, making note of their reactions. "I brought you here, and not to the precinct, because I wanted to address you without....the royals. I am surprised to see most all of you. Though will admit I do not know half of you."

Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD)Today at 9:42 PM

Jude is even more confused, also , take notes.

Resh (NB)Today at 9:43 PM

As soon as the outburst is mentioned, Nuavi seems to shrink in on herself. Disappointed and visibly ashamed of how the king had acted towards the situation and everyone involved.

Percy (06/💀)Today at 9:45 PM

A hot cup is placed near Ace, murmuring a quiet, 'Be careful, it's hot' as to not interrupt Amir's speech. He makes sure to set the pot of coffee on the table on a cozy to keep it from damaging the table, along with a pitcher of water. Everyone could pick from the finger foods and drinks while they listened during the meeting before Death went off to park himself next to Pembrooke.

Skippy (13/John)Today at 9:45 PM

John leans back in his chair and resists his usual habit of propping his legs up on the table. Don't forget your table manors Johnny boy.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 9:47 PM

"We have taken a blow tonight. The law as it stands now is just a puppet of prospit's 'missionary' services. The media knows we answer to the dime of thugs. There is nothing we can do if we do not work together." "I want to start with your names. I need to know you. You need to know each other. Consider this a team building exercise." John is picked out of the crowd for those rude table manners. "Egbert. Proceed. State your name and rank and where you are from."

Percy (06/💀)Today at 9:48 PM

Death gives Amir a double thumbs up!!

pi3shark (Eridan/AD)Today at 9:52 PM

Ace whispers a 'thank you' back to Death before sipping onto the tea. It is hot in all ways possible, you love it.

Skippy (13/John)Today at 9:54 PM

John perks up when he's called upon and then grins wide. "John Egbert. I'm a standard patrol officer. I was born and raised on Earth, till Dad and I moved to Derse a few years ago."

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 9:55 PM

"Next.""Which of you was briefing me earlier on the computer."

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:01 PM

Death was about to point someone out to help people choose since... in a large room, and telling everyone to make their own line, generally ended in disaster. Understandable for Rashid to make that hiccup- or any of them. It's been a night. Amir continues though and Death hesitates briefly, side eying Pembrooke before looking around the kitchen. "Ace, would you like to go?" Death looks to the man, knowing him well enough. It was easy to make guesses for some of them when he put two and two together with how they behaved online and how they behaved face to face.@pi3shark (Eridan/AD)

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:03 PM

"Shit." Amir rubs his hand over his face. "Scratch that, I do not need your ranks. Those are on paper. State your name. Where you are coming from. And why you joined the law."(edited)

Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD)Today at 10:05 PM

Oh no this makes Jude sweat even more. he haven't yet.

pi3shark (Eridan/AD)Today at 10:12 PM

"Sure why not." Ace gets up and leaves his tea on the table. "Name is Ace Dick... Bullock." Besides WQ and PS no one knew that little extra tibit. "I'm form prospit and huh....I just wanted to make things right you know. Its cheesy as heck but I was made to be the Enforcer what a better way to enforce an protect my huh... citizens than being a cop. Make them follow the law, all of the laws make this place safe. So when the offer and eventual move happened I got here late I figured this was going to be the hardest thing any of us ever had done... and intuition was right. And after the archagent got fuckin stabbed it got reafirmed on what i wanted to do, thats about it. I will protect everyone who deserves to be, thats what I am."

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:15 PM

Death nodded. "A noble wish if I ever heard one. Thank you, Ace. You do a wonderful job. ... Nuavi?" Death picked her up quick, catching that controlled stutter when she spoke. @Resh (NB)Death also sounded a little unsure. New-ah-vee? He looks apologetic. Sorry.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:23 PM

"You did not have to stand up." He mutters, but Ron Swanson nods at Ace. Good answer.(edited)

Resh (NB)Today at 10:36 PM

Nuavi perks up at the mention of her name, mid fruit grab, and slides off her spot on the wall. She was already standing, so Amir’s correction wasn’t of much use to her. After nodding at Elliot’s correct pronunciation of her name, she speaks. “Greet-tings. My name is Nuavi Bakul, agent of Prospit and servant of the innocent. I joined the law bec-c-cause I knew that I could do it better then the fools that kept being assigned to it. Up t-to that point, every time I had seen an officer do their duty, they did it sloppily. Simple, obvious steps were skipped, and I couldn’t bare t-to see that kind of incompetence within a profession that demanded perfection.” She looks miffed, angered by something, or maybe someone? “That’s why, when I was asked t-to come here by my Queen, to make a difference in a place that needed it more the prospit could ever c-care to have, well, it’s no wonder I couldn’t t-turn her down.”

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:37 PM

"Do you want to do this job well to protect people."

Resh (NB)Today at 10:39 PM

She gives him a surprised look of disbelief. “Of course! Why else would I w-want to do this job?”

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 10:42 PM

"How is your coding handling this." He has never beat around a bush in his life, addressing both NB and AD. "I ask to all whiteshells. I do not know if there are more here."

Resh (NB)Today at 10:52 PM

Nuavi raises a brow, not suspicious, just curious. There is a very dull and aching pain that hums throughout her nerves, but that’s just because she’s had years to perfect her ability in dulling the sensations she gets through her connection to the Queen. “It’s fine. I c-can control what I receive from it. Granted, as long as long as the Queen doesn’t wish t-to override my commands. Which has only ever happened near t-two or three times over the many years I’ve worked with her, ergo, it-t’s not an issue.”

pi3shark (Eridan/AD)Today at 10:58 PM

"Aside form the obvious stress nothing too particularly bad. A headache that is gone was the worst part of it. Even during overrides I can work around it, I've had to train to not let emotions take me over since everything is at 200% all the time so it aint that complicate to flush all extra things out. Also an emotional cop is not a fuckin' good idea."

Percy (06/💀)Today at 10:59 PM

Also Death gives Nuavi two thumbs up for her part. That was wonderful, I'm so proud.

Resh (NB)Today at 11:00 PM

Nuavi’s trying her best not to show it, but, at Elliot’s silent encouragement, she’s immediately filled with pride.

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 11:01 PM

Nods at those two. Will go with coding workarounds later. "Egbert clone. Who are you."

Percy (06/💀)Today at 11:01 PM

Death clears his throat lightly, "Possible family member, humans don't have clones."

fuck this shit (01/AR)Today at 11:02 PM

"Oh."

Homosexual Shark (05/JH/CD)Today at 11:02 PM

Jude just look all around see if anybody reacts to the call then points at himself.

4 notes · View notes

lovehotelreservation · 7 years

Text

Charmed

Summary: The key to victory is knowing how to pick your battles. However, in this particular battle, you have four Marin Karin'd Phantom Thieves looking to work out their ailment with you.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Akira/Yusuke/Reader/Ryuji/Akechi

FROM THE CAFE TO THE METAVERSE, THE LEWDING CONTINUES ON AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

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

Of all the times to run out of Relax Gels.

It had been a long excursion down into the depths of the Metaverse, especially when a battle against one of the many Phan-Site perpetrators left you, Akira, Ryuji, Yusuke and Akechi separated from the others after a deep rift on the floor was created while exchanging attacks, plummeting you all into the abyss.

No Morgana, no Futaba--the five of you were left searching for safety in the nearest rest area while guarding yourselves from the Shadows that haunted the pathways.

As serious as the situation was, with each of you on your guard, you were happy to find yourself under the protection of your fellow Phantom Thieves. Akechi swearing to strike down any Shadow that wished to lay harm onto you, Yusuke constantly asking and worrying over your well-being, Ryuji offering for you to hop on his back if you were feeling too tired, Akira urging for you to stay close to him--this was everything you and your love stricken heart could have ever asked for.

However, for as rigid as their dedication was to you, all were susceptible to the limits of the human body, especially as your curative supply gradually decreased with every Shadow encounter. Weariness began to settle in as any sign of a rest area seemed too far to reach, affecting each of your movements and tactics in battle. It soon came to the point where there was simply no other choice but to run.

Even easily disposable Shadows like Leanan Sidhe seemed too much of a hassle to take on. The moment the five of you encountered a group of them was when you demanded that you all take off running, especially since there happened to be a descending escalator nearby.

You escaped down the steps first, the others just behind you.

Thankfully, at long last, there was a rest area, providing the blessed chance to make contact with Futaba and Morgana.

But you would not have the chance to rest and take a breather so easily.

"C-Contact! They're all okay!" Futaba shrieked with delight as soon as Necromonicon was able to detect your presence in the floors below, her eyes lining with tears out of joy.

"Oh thank god!" Ann whooped, one hand resting over her chest for a moment just before cracking her whip against an approaching Queen Mab, her actions followed up by Makoto eviscerating the Shadow with the incredible might of Johanna.

Turning towards Futaba, Makoto let out a relieved breath, even as she maintained her impeccable composure. "Excellent work as always, Futaba. Do you know which floor they are on?"

"Indeed!" Morgana cried out while smiting down a Nebiros with his sword. "I must ensure that our missing fair maiden and Joker are safe--the other fellows too, I guess!"

Her axe in hand, Haru landed the finishing blow against the Kumbhanda she was facing against. Smiling softly to herself in satisfaction, she turned towards Futaba, her lips parting to express her praise, only to stop and blink in confusion when she noticed that her fellow Phantom Thief was suddenly staring ahead with a blank expression. "Futaba? Is everything alright?"

A bit slow to snap of her stupor, Futaba turned towards the others, her expression becoming warm as Necromonicon was detecting something quite familiar to the few ero doujinshi titles she happened across during her life as a hikkikomori. Her hands suddenly flying to her face, she exclaimed with utter embarrassment, "A-Ahh NG! NG! There is nothing but NG going on down there!"

"NG?" Thus was repeated by the others, all mirroring one another in confusion.

However, Futaba immediately rushed forward, grabbing onto the arms of Haru and Makoto while dragging them ahead, Morgana and Ann scrambling to follow suit. Her voice shrill, she cried out, "Kyaaaa! You two--you two need to fix this once we get down theeeeere!"

As this transpired, you found yourself in your own little frenzy of incomprehensible emotions and sensations, left too flustered and overwhelmed to find a way out.

It had been a while since a Shadow of the likes of Leanan Sidhe had been a difficult opponent. However, with your Persona's lacking skillset with healing ailments and your barren supply of curatives, it was only a mere casting of Marin Karin that proved to be your downfall.

Especially when four of your teammates had succumbed to the spell's effects.

Completely surrounded, completely filled.

Were it not for Ryuji lying beneath you, your back would have been pressed to the ground of the rest area's waiting room, the ceiling of which was obscured by the faces of your crushes looming above. The front of your attire was a discarded piece of fabric and material in some corner of the tiny space, your bottoms in similar disarray. Your appearance was reduced to this state by the hurried and desperate need to gaze upon and caress skin that had been the influence of many wet dreams for your friends.

With your thighs kept spread wide apart by Ryuji's sturdy arms hooking beneath them, there was plenty access for him to drive the wide girth of his dick up into your ass while Yusuke was positioned between your legs, his hands clinging onto your waist while he pumped his cock inside you with rapturous vehemence.

At the same time, your lips were left to remain full with Akira and Akechi taking turns fucking your mouth. While both were conflicted between coating your face with their cum or getting to unload every warm, sticking drop down your throat, there was also the temptation to release upon your bared breasts, which their fingers took great pleasure in teasing and groping.

Between the growled curses beneath you and the shaky moans of ecstasy mingling with sultry murmurs above, truly this seemed like something right out of your most depraved fantasies, your senses left in as much disarray as your attire by the deft hands of your crushes. Their complexions flushed red, their bodies hot and their hunger ravenous, they were all feeling the effects of Leanan Sidhe's inflicted Marin Karin. However, rather than be under the Shadow's influence, they were instead drawn to their one object of affection, the very same one who lead them to the sanctuary of this particular rest area.

While the strength of their ailment was severe to the point of needing relief to ease the intense arousal surging through their bodies, they were still mindful of their actions upon first approaching you.

Ryuji had huffed out your name, groaning as he reached for your body, "B-Babe, ya gotta help me--fuck, just a kiss from you could save me from this...!"

Yusuke had been reduced to his knees while he crawled towards you, willing to forgo any sense of pride for your attention. "As selfish as this is to beg of you... p-please, darling, I crave for your mercy."

"How unlike me to behave in such a brutish m-manner," Akechi had mused while doing his damnedest to maintain his elegant poise, right as he tugged you towards him. Finding relief in pressing his body against yours. he continued, "...surely you won't have me continue to suffer in this way, isn't that right, dearest?"

And lastly, you had found yourself suddenly drawn back into the secure yet possessive embrace of Akira, who at first let out a breath of relief upon grinding his erect cock against your backside. And yet, once his lips grazed over your ear, he let out a knowing chuckle, even if its usual teasing nuance was subdued by the rampant lust coursing through him. "Mmmm, I bet someone's happy, no? I know how much you've been craving us~"

And thus lead to your current situation, being surrounded and overwhelmed by the four you craved so much, your desires realized at last yet only fueled to become even more rampant by their touch. It wouldn't be long before positions were switched, with you remaining stuffed full all the same.

For as much as you were in a hurry to make contact with the rest of the Phantom Thieves earlier, the five of you hoped the others took as much time as they needed to head down.

#akira kurusu #ren amamiya #yusuke kitagawa #ryuji sakamoto #goro akechi #persona 5 #reader insert #fic #super freaknasty writing #management will return in a queue minutes

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katie-dub · 7 years

Text

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year: Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Two characters need to share a bath to get warm

I saw this prompt and my mind went to a less-than-fluffy place. I’ve had hypothermia, it sucks. And then my mind went to @icecubelotr44 who would revel in a little festive whump, because why shouldn’t whumpers get fics too? There’s not a whole lot for them in a festive fluffathon.

So this is dedicated to the fantastical evil Renee who knows all about my probably not so secret anymore love of whump and also @killian-whump @pirate-owl @gusenitsaa and @queen-mabs-revenge who I don’t really talk to, but who make my vindictive heart happy with their delicious angst.

Merry whumpmas all!

Warning: freezing temperatures, pirates in pain, possible medical inaccuracies but a definite happy ending

AO3

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

“Go on, say it,” Emma huffed at him. “I know you're dying to say ‘I told you so’”

Killian wasn't going to say it. He valued his life too much. Besides, he really didn't need to, the bug was doing that for him. Yes, he had gently suggested that perhaps the bug wasn't the best choice for a trip to a cabin in the woods in the snow, and he had made it clear he was more than willing to foot the bill for the cost of a rental. But still, they were here now, broken down not two miles from their holiday getaway and it really wasn't a situation that he relished.

“I have no idea what you mean. So how long will it take the cavalry to get to us?”

Emma side eyed him with suspicion, he grinned back innocently. It was true that teasing his best friend was one of his favourite pastimes, but he drew the line at being outright cruel.

“Triple A said 1 hour -” “that's not bad” “-minimum.”

“Ah. Well, we missed out on playing some quality car games on the journey, what with your need to concentrate on the road, how about a little ‘I spy’ now?” Emma glared at him in disgust. “No? We could share our most embarrassing sex stories?”

“I am never going to tell you what happened with Walsh in his furniture shop.”

“You keeping that between the two of you and the police still?” Emma's face turned an adorable shade of red. Perhaps if she didn't look so beautiful when she blushed, Killian wouldn't be quite so tempted to needle her so much. Perhaps. “I can tell you my embarrassing stories too if that'll loosen your tongue?”

He was delighted to see that this caused her lips to twitch into a small grin. “But that would require you to have some shame and we both know that you don't.”

“That is not true!” he gasped in mock indignation.

“So you weren't once caught going down on Tina in a corridor and just carried on? Sounds like the actions of a shy, retiring type.”

“You would have me leave a lady wanting? Now that would be a truly shameful act and not befitting a gentleman like myself!”

“It's going to be a long hour,” Emma muttered.

***

It was 3 hours later and Killian was feeling the cold even through the several layers of clothes that he had piled on. He shivered as Emma growled at her phone, incensed by the conversation she'd just had.

“No sign of our knight in shining tow truck?”

“Another 3 hours at least,” she huffed angrily.

“Is it time to huddle for warmth? Tell me, Swan, was this all a trap to get close to me?”

Her eyes flashed angrily before her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I'm sorry, Killian.” She chewed on her lip sadly. He reached out for her and pulled her into an awkward hug across the gear stick. “Do you think we should abandon the car for the night?” She asked anxiously, murmuring the words into his chest. “It'll take less time to get to the cabin than it'll take any help to arrive and my phone battery's nearly dead.”

“Excellent idea, love.”

***

It would've been an excellent idea, if only that complete asshole of a driver hadn't deliberately driven through an icy puddle, clearly intending to punish Killian and Emma for the crime of walking on the road. Like they had a choice, there was no sidewalk and they needed to get to the cabin before they actually froze to death. All the driver was doing was ensuring that they took even longer to get there.

What a prick.

Killian had valiantly shielded Emma from the freezing spray, meaning he was drenched through while she stayed mostly dry.

The intense shivering had started immediately. Emma had tried to pull him close to her, but he'd reluctantly nudged her away, reasoning that they shouldn't both end up soaked.

Now though, as he caught sight of the cabin up ahead, he had a sudden burst of enthusiasm. They were so close and he wasn't even feeling the cold anymore. Must be all the physical exertion.

“Cabin, ho!” he shouted cheerfully, or at least, he thought he did. The words sounded strangely garbled in his ears.

“What?” Emma turned to stare at him and he was surprised to realise that he had a hard time focusing on her. “Killian, are you OK?”

“ibabssssolutelyfibe” his tongue was refusing to follow basic instructions. How hard was it to tell Emma that he's fine? Probably. Admittedly now that he thought about it, his head did feel foggy and Emma seemed strangely far away for someone who was right next to him.

“Have you drained your hip flask? I thought that rum was to share,” she whined at him. He opened his mouth, intending to defend himself against such wild accusations, but instead he stumbled, and found himself slumped against Emma's side. He tried willing his body to stand upright, but it was to no avail.

“Killian?” Beautiful green eyes peered into his own. He felt the need to ask if Emma was sure that she was OK, seeing as how her usually vibrant eyes seemed dull. “Oh fuck, when did your lips turn blue? We need to get inside.”

Emma wrapped her arms around him and dragged him forward. He almost fell immediately. Why weren't his limbs functioning properly? He really did feel as though he'd drank too much rum... But he'd remember doing that, right?

As he felt his uncooperative body pulled along, he mused on what a strange thing that was for Emma to say. Why would he look cold when he felt perfectly fine? If anything, he actually a little overwarm.

As they staggered forward he started to feel suffocated by Emma's arms around him. He tried pushing her away but found he couldn't muster the strength.

He tried to puzzle out his options but his body had quickly gone from mildly warm to seriously overheating. He couldn't extract himself from Emma, but he could surely get his coat off?

“What the fuck are you doing?” Killian saw Emma slap his hand away from his zipper, although strangely, he didn't feel it.

“Hot,” he mumbled.

Emma seized his hand, preventing him from reaching for his zipper again. “It's not hot, it's freezing, keep your coat on so you don't die.”

He whimpered, he was on fire and it was torment but at least the cabin was close.

Wasn't it?

It seemed to take forever to reach it, consumed as Killian was with thoughts of burning flesh. Once they were inside though, Emma mercifully released him into a chair and disappeared.

He set to work tearing off his clothes at once. He was struggling a little with his trousers when he felt a pair of hands join his hand and prosthetic in tugging them down.

“Jesus Jones, do you have to wear such tight pants?” Emma was scolding him, but there was a wobble in her voice.

If a part of him was even aware that Emma Swan - his Emma - was stripping him bare it was silenced by the blessed relief of cool air against his skin. But then he was wrapped in towels and Emma was rubbing them against him.

He hated it.

He felt like white hot needles were jabbing into his skin and Emma was driving them deeper with every brush of the towel.

The garbled noise of pain he made sounded subhuman even through his own confusion. Emma looked alarmed, jumping back from him. “You're still so cold,” she muttered to herself and vanished. It was perhaps the first time in his life that Killian was actually grateful that Emma had left him alone.

He didn't know how long she was gone, he just sat on the sofa, watching the room spinning, although the motion gradually - thankfully - slowed.

He was still struggling to shake off the inexplicable feeling of languishing in a rum-fuelled drunken stupor when Emma reappeared before him in a robe. He blinked at her several times, cursing whatever tricks his mind was playing on him to conjure her up in front of him in what looked to be next to nothing.

She yanked him to his feet and immediately wrapped her arms around him to stop him falling over as he lost his balance when the sudden movement made him see stars.

“Steady there, sailor,” she laughed at him.

Can't blame a man for being unsteady around a Goddess like you. Next time don't stand on ceremony, you can grab me anytime you like. The words echoed in his mind unspoken, his tongue thick and incapable of making the words. If Emma found his silence odd, she didn't comment on it, although she did blush under his gaze.

Emma led him down the corridor to the bathroom where she had run a bath. He stared at the water, trying to wrap his head around the idea of her running him a bath. He felt unstable and out of focus, getting into the water seemed like a one way trip. He leaned against the wall, head swimming, when a movement caught his eye and he turned to see Emma's beautiful bare body as her robe fell to the floor. He gaped at her, unable to stop himself from looking at her in awe. Was she intending to bathe with him? She'd surely be the death of him.

She looked up at him, instantly turning a beautiful shade of blush and covering herself with her hands. “Don't look,” she hissed, “I couldn't let you go in the bath alone in your state. Besides, skin to skin contact is meant to be good for you… I think.”

With some effort and averting of eyes, Killian clambered into the bath with Emma. He was nestled between her legs and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her lovely breasts. The feeling of her skin against his was divine, it was like this was where he was meant to be. His heart could explode with happiness.

His heart was going to explode.

The pain in his chest was intense, he felt like the hot water was crushing him. He gasped - or possibly yelped - and tried to get to his feet. Emma leapt to his aid at once, dragging him from the tub and laying him on the floor.

The pressure eased but cold overwhelmed him. Emma threw warmed towels over him and this time when she dried him off, the painful tingling had gone and it felt comforting.

“Shit shit shit,” Emma was chanting the curse word under her breath, Killian wondered how long she'd been saying it for.He was still struggling to make sense of anything but the feeling had shifted from that of being so drunk he was near collapse to merely the sleepy confusion you'd feel on first waking.

He looked at Emma and despite it being the first time he'd really seen her naked, something he had secretly wanted for a long time, it was her face that drew his gaze. She looked terrified. He lifted a towel that was lying across him like a blanket and patted the floor beside him. “C’mere,” he said.

She jumped a little and stared at him, startled. He was finally feeling lucid enough to get out his words. “Don't I need skin to skin contact?” He thought he'd managed them without slurring, although he couldn't manage a cheeky wink or arched brow as he would normally. The words seemed to have had the desired effect all the same: Emma rolled her eyes but smiled and lay down beside him, rolling him onto his side facing away from her and wrapping herself around him.

“Tell anyone that we snuggled naked and I'll make sure they know that you were the little spoon.” Killian smiled although his usually quick wit couldn't come up with a suitable reply.

He wasn't sure how long they lay there, just that Emma's touch seemed to bring life back to his body.

“Can you stand?” Emma asked and he realised with relief that he felt like he could. He nodded. “Good, you need a hot drink and bed.”

She helped him to his feet and he felt her loss at once, shivering at the unexpected chill he felt. She grabbed her own robe and passed it to him, but he shook his head. “Can't have my nurse getting sick too,” he explained. She snorted but pulled it on then wrapped him in towels and guided him to the sofa where she threw a blanket over him for good measure. Technically he thought he could've managed that on his own, but if Emma wanted to help, who was he to stop her?

Emma returned with a hot drink and a nervous look. “I have bad news:” she announced, “your backpack was soaked by that truck driver so there's nothing that you can wear, unless you want to squeeze into something of mine.”

He choked on his hot chocolate at the innuendo she had handed to him. She realised her mistake at once. She groaned and smacked him. “Well, at least I know you're feeling better, I guess.”

They sat in silence drinking their hot chocolate for several minutes. The hot mug felt wonderful in his hands and he could feel the drink warming him inside.

“I'm sorry, Killian,” Emma whispered and he looked at her in confusion.

“What for?”

“Making us take the bug and letting you get soaked and for taking us somewhere with no signal so I couldn't call for medical attention when we got here and nearly killing you with a bath.”

He scratched behind his ear, feeling very awkward. “What's a little attempted murder between friends?” he eventually said with a shrug.

“Killian, you nearly died!” Emma huffed and when he looked at her he realised there were tears streaming down her face.

He threw his arms around her. “Shhhh, less of that, Swan or I'll think you fancy me.” She sobbed harder still and he pulled back to look at her. He took her gently by the chin and tilted her face towards his so he could look her in the eye. “I'm a survivor, it'll take more than a bath to kill me.” She gazed at him with worry and uncertainty and it was too much for him. He just wanted to take her pain away and without thinking he pressed his lips to hers. He needed to comfort her, to show her just how OK he was, and how much she mattered to him.

It was meant to be a soft and gentle kiss, but she grabbed him and kissed him hard. Normally he'd have loved it, but he felt instantly light-headed and gently pushed her back. Emma looked crestfallen and he stroked her cheek gently.

“Sorry, love, I don't think I can handle that right now. Perhaps in the morning?” He hoped that he didn't sound as desperate as he felt, although Emma did brighten considerably at the suggestion. “Maybe you can help me to bed for more of that skin to skin contact in the meantime?”

She laughed at him, but helped him to his feet all the same. She guided him to bed and this time instead of trying hide herself, she waited until he was looking to drop her robe with a seductive smile.

“Bloody hell, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he laughed and pulled her into bed beside him.

“What's a little attempted murder between friends?” she teased as he pulled her close to him.

“Nothing,” he breathed, suddenly feeling the full weight of his exhaustion. And with his love in his arms and warmth in his heart, he fell asleep.

#cs ff #cs fanfics #captain swan #cs ff au #cs au #cs christmas #cs angst #katie dub writes #the most wonderful time of the year

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