#Moonlit Thorns

[fated-mates]

An absolute classic for a reason, we’re talking about BEAUTY AND THE BEAST today — about the trope itself, about how the 1991 Disney movie brought it back to life (yes, we see you, Dain), and about why we love the vibe of scarred and broken men in a castle being found and renovated by whip smart, bookish heroines. Spoiler: It’s patriarchy.

[partywithoutsmiling]

It is finished!

From left to right, the grandparents- Rosiepuff and Brazen- and the parents, Mulberry and Thorn(berry)

This is the pretty much universal headcanon for all of my AUs, and you can read more about them here

(an additional headcanon to Thorn: the Skull belt is worn only by the Royal Rock Family and the Skull Tattoo marks the Heir to the Throne)

(Considering all that, pretty neat to imagine a fun scenario where Barb notices the tattoo on Branch's chest when he gets zombified, and after World Tour finale leaves her pondering what it might mean)

[mewguca]

I finally got around to making height charts for them yayyyyy ^^

buncha extra variations under the cut

I'll make the refs proper soon!!!

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

Spoiler Alert and Theory for Dawnbreaker

I’m glad to pull Zayne’s Moonlit Dream. But it breaks my heart because my theory is that instead of coming back together in Linkon, They got separated…That’s why we are able to meet Dawnbreaker.

Why must you always have Zayne to suffer???!!!!

😭😭😭😭😭💙❄️💙❄️💙❄️

[dreamieparadise]

@moonlit-mystery-writer finished drawing Celeste! Hope you like it? She's soooo pretty!!! Thank you for allowing me to draw her haha

Comms open

[rayan12sworld]

Right now this fanfic is about 2 part ,part 1 is 14 chapter, it's about lan wangji that can hear lies when some one say it

~~~~~

💖💙in the shadow of moonlit flowers

By:Reverie (cl410)

Summary:

It was a curse, some said. A gift, according to others. But Lan Zhan considered it neither a gift nor a curse; it was simply a part of him, the same as his golden core.

But he would treasure it either way, because it was his mother's greatest gift to him, and her last.

Chapter:14/14

Words:56,683

Status:completed

Author's tumblr:@i-like-plan-m (spoiler a head)

Wei Ying’s laugh rang over the courtyard, bright and cheerful as he slung an arm over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders, ignoring the sect heir’s incensed protests. “Don’t lie, shidi, I know you love me!” The lie sounded like a gong in Lan Zhan’s head, startling him so badly that he flinched, stumbled to an awkward stop, and whipped his head around to stare at Wei Ying, who was for once paying him no attention. His ever-present smile was in place, nothing false or fixed about it. Wei Ying wore happiness and humor like armor, and Lan Zhan wondered suddenly if anyone had ever seen past it. He hadn’t… until now.

~

I know you love me. The low, booming signal of Wei Ying’s lie was significant for two reasons: the timing, and the strength of the sound. The greater the lie, the louder the noise, and this one had left a painful echo in Lan Zhan’s ears from the force of it. And the timing… the lie had been marked on a single word: love. I know you love me. But Wei Ying did not believe this, not even a little. Lan Zhan… did not know what to do with this revelation.

😭😭😭

~~

Lan Zhan stared at his hands. “You like him.” “I— what does that have to do with—” He broke off, pinching the bridge of his nose in a rare display of frustration. “Wangji, is this about Mingjue?” “No,” Lan Zhan said, mutinous, but Lan Huan was still talking, gently explaining, “I will soon be an opposing sect leader, Wangji. Even with the sect’s good relations with Qinghe, our relationship could never be…” He paused. Took a deep breath. Barely repressed grief bled off of him like waves. “We have a duty to our respective sects; Mingjue and I would always be torn in two different directions. It was a mutual decision to no longer pursue our relationship.” “Is it not worth it?” Lan Zhan challenged. Lan Huan drew back, eyes wide from the force of his response, but he forged on, emotions bubbling over too fast to contain. “You once said he was the other half of your soul, but now you smile at a stranger like you did Mingjue-ge. You listen to his lies.” “It isn’t that simple, Wangji—” “No.” Lan Zhan’s voice was so sharp that Lan Huan’s mouth snapped shut. “You like him, so you didn’t listen to me.” “Lan Zhan—” “You ignored me. You said that I lied.” Lan Zhan jerked to his feet, fumbling with his qin as his breath came faster, hitching in his chest. He angled his head so Lan Huan would not see the hurt on his face but wasn’t quite fast enough; Lan Huan made a stricken sound and moved instinctively towards him.

Lan Zhan stepped out of reach. “It hurts me to hear him talk,” he whispered, hating himself for the waver in his voice. “But you ignored me.” He left before the burning behind his eyes could spill over, before his brother’s tangible anguish and remorse could deter him from the truth. Before the emotion rising like a tidal wave in his chest came crashing down and ruined everything

~~meng yao b**** how can you hurt my baby

By your lie ,lan xichen whyyyyyyyy 😭😭😭😭

Notes: Meng Yao: *breathes* LWJ: *loudly plays the “A BITCH IS LYING” song*

~~~~

Since the day his gift had been woven into his golden core, Lan Zhan had never once wished to hear a lie. He could never have even fathomed a situation in which he would prefer dishonesty. Not until Wei Ying. Because sometimes, Wei Ying’s truths hurt worse to hear than his lies.

~

Wei Ying sent him a winning smile, the kind that lit his entire face and turned his eyes into crescents. Lan Zhan’s heart thudded once, hard, in his chest. Oh. “You broke curfew to feed wild rabbits,” Lan Zhan repeated slowly. Exhilaration rushed through his veins, a dizzying contradiction to the slow swoop of his stomach. Oh. Love, Lan Zhan discovered abruptly, felt like hurtling from the sky and experiencing nothing but quiet, tender joy the whole way down.

~

His own brother had fallen victim to it, however briefly, so what was to stop the others from doing the same? He had no formal ties to Qinghe Nie, nothing beyond a welcome that could be revoked, a place that could be taken by someone who knew all things people wanted to hear, regardless of the truth. Emptiness pressed in on him, the world suddenly stark and hollow and loud, so loud, a cacophony of lies that never ended, just got louder and louder and— —stopped, the world falling abruptly silent as he crashed straight into Wei Ying, whose arms windmilled as he valiantly tried and failed to remain on his feet.

~

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying stepped closer, eyes searching his face. Lan Zhan still didn’t know what his face was doing, but it clearly wasn’t good. Wei Ying’s eyes widened, worry drawing lines around his mouth and eyes. “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan choked out, the frostbite burn searing his heart. “What is it?” Wei Ying's hands fluttered uselessly around him as his anxiety spiked. “What happened?” He hesitated— afraid, so afraid— but said Meng Yao’s name between gritted teeth, suddenly desperate to know if Meng Yao had taken this from him, too, if he had stolen his first and only love while Lan Zhan hadn’t been paying attention. “Um. Who?” Wei Ying asked, clearly baffled, and vicious relief hit Lan Zhan so fast he swayed. Wei Ying made a noise of alarm and lunged forward, hands cupping Lan Zhan’s elbows to steady him even as Lan Zhan let his head drop to Wei Ying’s shoulder with a rough exhale

~

"He still breaks rules.”

"Yes. He is… I believe A-Xian is searching for the limits,” she said, too soft to carry beyond the hushed air between them, a space for secrets to surface from the depths. The trees cast long shadows above her that pooled in the hollows of her cheeks and eyes, carving fierce angles into her delicate face. Something about her tone, the odd, sinking melody carrying her words to him made Lan Zhan hesitate. Here, in this space between them, the truth felt like an ugly, dangerous thing, too terrible to look at directly as it unfolded, piece by piece. He gathered his courage. “The limits?” “The punishments here… he is looking for the limit, for whatever it takes to finally provoke the reaction he is expecting to find.” He could not see her face, carefully angled as it was, but that buried truth still stuck in her throat like a blade, staining her words crimson. His own words felt like they were scraped out of him when he found his voice again. “What is he expecting to find?” Jiang Yanli raised her head and looked at him, face ironed into a grim stillness. “Violence, Lan-er-gongzi,” she said, the blade freed. “He is expecting violence.” Her answer was resolute, unwavering. Her honesty sent a shiver of pain through him, the blade unsheathed with a ruthlessness that left them both bleeding. Lan Zhan pressed his hands into the bench seat, the wood groaning and splintering beneath his grip. He did not try to staunch the flow from this new wound, one of many gashes left by an excruciating truth— a reality he’d never thought possible before Wei Ying. Instead Lan Zhan held fast, anchored in place by the same principles upon which he’d built his world.

~

Lan Zhan frowned. When he must return home. A twinge, a faint lilting note in the soft song that carried her words to him. Must. Lan Zhan’s heart thudded hard in his chest. When Wei Ying must return home– but that was not wholly true. Wei Ying did not have to return home. Wei Ying had a choice, whether he realized it or not. But— No. No, Wei Ying had a choice, but it was up to Lan Zhan to make this choice known to him. That tiny kernel of hope inside him sparked, glowing brighter with Jiang Yanli’s offering. Her selflessness astounded him— Lan Zhan could not imagine a world in which he willingly encouraged someone to take Wei Ying from him. But he had not been raised within the torrent of Madam Yu’s judgment and displeasure. Lan Zhan dipped his head in understanding; Jiang Yanli was trying to save Wei Ying from her mother’s towering rage before it broke him entirely, knowing he would never willingly leave his siblings.

"No matter how many times he finds trouble here, Lan-er-gongzi,” Jiang Yanli murmured, watching their approach, “please know that A-Xian only invests time and attention to the places he loves— because the better he knows a place, the safer he feels.” Lan Zhan’s breath hitched. Jiang Yanli looked at Wei Ying as though a part of her grieved, as though she saw a little brother she loved— and one she had failed. But the misery staining her expression had abated, even now with Wei Ying having clearly ensured yet another punishment for trespassing.

~~

Lan Zhan spoke past the sudden lump in his throat and said what he’d wanted to say the moment he’d realized how little Wei Ying valued himself. “Love and respect yourself.” Wei Ying flinched. “Do not make assumptions about others.” So soft it was barely a whisper, Lan Zhan replied, “Do not tell lies.” It wasn’t quite a lie. But the implication— that Wei Ying did love and respect himself and Lan Zhan incorrectly assumed otherwise— was not true

Lan Zhan blinked back the burn of tears. “Life is more than enduring current circumstances.” Wei Ying’s breath caught. “I don’t recognize that one.” “No. It’s… advice,” Lan Zhan admitted, ears hot with the force of his blush. He felt as though he’d revealed something he usually kept close, something vulnerable and hopeful that rarely saw the light of day because it was all too fragile. “Lan Zhan is too wise,” Wei Ying complained, but there was a good-natured grin on his face. He heaved a dramatic sigh and shook his head. “Ah, Lan Zhan, I don’t deserve a friend like you.” The discordant sound of a lie hurt just as badly as the knowledge that Wei Ying truly believed it. “Lie,” Lan Zhan said, voice sharp-edged with pain and displeasure. Wei Ying had the audacity to look surprised. “Isn’t that a matter of opinion?” He asked skeptically, apparently willing to compromise on any point except his own worth. “No,” Lan Zhan replied.

~~

“I always wondered about you Lans— no way is everyone in the sect so obedient and disciplined all the time!” Wei Ying hiccuped another helpless little laugh. “Your rebellion just started at a young age. You were ahead of the crowd— a rogue baby loose in the Cloud Recesses!” Lan Zhan made a sound that was not unlike a growl and kept his face covered. “Did you really bite them if they tried to stop you?” Wei Ying tugged at his wrists again. “Lan Zhan. Hey, Lan Zhan. Who have you not bitten in your sect, huh?” Lan-xiansheng, Lan Zhan thought darkly, had definitely put him up to that question. “You,” Lan Zhan muttered, before his brain caught up with his mouth. Then the mental image and ensuing jolt of heat nearly sent him tumbling off the dock.

~~

He forgot, Lan Zhan thought dumbly. Forgot to put clothes on. Did Wei Ying wander around Yunmeng half-naked? Was that normal for him? Would he do that here, where Lan Zhan lived? Where Lan Zhan would see him in various states of disarray and be expected to survive that? “Ridiculous,” he choked out. He stomped after Wei Ying, cursing the flare of heat that had undoubtedly turned his ears crimson.

~~

“No,” Lan Zhan said hastily as Wei Ying wrestled his outer robe into place, but the damage was already done. Lan Huan practically vibrated in place, delighted with this new ammunition to mercilessly tease Lan Zhan. “Hi, Zewu-Jun!” Wei Ying chirped, blissfully unaware of the wicked glint in Lan Huan’s eyes. “We’re late for dinner. It’s my fault.” “Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s sigh was almost a groan as he watched Huan-ge happily misinterpret Wei Ying’s meaning. “Oh? How so?” “Well, we might have been on time if I hadn’t wanted to talk after–” Swimming, Lan Zhan mentally added with mounting horror as Huan-ge’s eyes nearly doubled in size. After swimming. – “plus I was all wet and kind of sweaty, too–” From the swimming, Lan Zhan shouted internally. Wet from SWIMMING. – “and then Lan Zhan had to remind me to put my clothes back on–” Well, that one Lan Zhan had no explanation for. Who just forgot they weren’t wearing clothes? What kind of obscene place was Yunmeng, anyway? – “and it’s a lot harder to get dressed while speed-walking through the woods than you might think, so now we’re running late.” …Getting dressed after swimming, Lan Zhan added with grim resignation.

~~😂😂😂 I'm dying here, lan wangji can't even talk

Lan Huan made a strangled noise. “So. Why does he feel better now?” “I am taking a vow of silence,” Lan Zhan decided. “You’re looking a little rumpled, too, didi,” Lan Huan managed through choked-off laughter. “Did Wei-gongzi help you get dressed?” Lan Zhan growled under his breath and stalked away, trailed by sounds of muffled hilarity because his brother was the worst. “And in the woods, didi? Where’s your sense of shame?” Lan Zhan considered biting him, for old time’s sake, but out of everyone in the sect Huan-ge was most accomplished at dodging. “What a compelling argument you must have made for him to stay. Solid strategy, didi,” Huan-ge gasped out, clutching his stomach as he bent double with laughter. Lan Zhan whirled around. Planted his hands on his hips, leveled a glare at his brother, and said in his most withering tone, “Wei Ying went swimming.” Then added, “Alone.” Just to be clear.

~

Wei Ying had no concept of his own worth. Could not bring himself to believe that anyone else valued him either. Meaning Wei Ying would never assume that his feelings, if they existed, were reciprocated. Meaning that Lan Zhan would have to take that risk, that first step towards him. Meaning that Lan Zhan would have to be the brave one. He took a deep breath. Another. Gathered his courage, dimly aware that they were still holding hands, and said firmly, “Wei Ying is worth it to me.” Wei Ying’s head came up, eyes wide, mouth parted as Lan Zhan amended, “worth everything to me.”

~

Wei Ying made a muffled sound of surprise against his mouth, which was entirely distracting and also made Lan Zhan want to bite him. Just a little. Wei Ying tilted his head, changing the angle, and suddenly their mouths were aligned and the kiss deepened, becoming soft and slow and sweet. Lan Zhan’s mind emptied of everything but the press of Wei Ying’s lips against his, helpless against the onslaught of sensation, heat pooling low in his belly and leaving him breathless and shivery. They parted when their lungs demanded it, both of them breathing hard, and stared at each other for a long moment. “Oh,” Wei Ying managed. “Oh,” Lan Zhan echoed faintly. “I didn’t know you liked me like that.” He looked as stunned as Lan Zhan felt. His hand was still clenched in Wei Ying’s robes; he could not make his fingers cooperate and release him. “I do.” “Obviously,” Wei Ying teased, because of course he did. “Unless you kiss all your friends like that.” Lan Zhan huffed. “Only Wei Ying.” His face went soft and awed. He leaned in to rest his forehead against Lan Zhan’s and whispered, “Good, because I only want to kiss Lan Zhan.” Lan Zhan closed his eyes and savored the truth of his words. Let it banish the trembling uncertainty of the future, a balm to his battered nerves. Lan Zhan wanted to kiss him again. He tugged on Wei Ying’s outer robe to pull him further into his space. “Again.” “So forward!” Wei Ying laughed, one hand wrapped around his wrist to keep him close. “Lan Zhan, are you always this bossy?” “Yes,” he admitted, and couldn’t help but smile when Wei Ying threw his head back and laughed, breathing life into the weary silence of the jingshi and filling all its empty spaces with humor and wonder and joy.

Part 2

💙In the half shade of my thorns

By:Reverie (cl410)

Summary:

Lan Zhan’s gift did not work on speculation or potentialities. Maybe because there were too many possible outcomes, too many futures that could exist, all depending on an infinite number of choices between now and then. Or maybe because the person speaking did not know whether their theory was true, or if any of their theories might be true, until a choice was made and the future shifted once again.

So how could Lan Zhan ever know the truth for certain?

Chapter:8/15

Words:46,570

Status:ongoing

gremlin lan zhan❤️❤️

"Haha! Look at that, now I’ve corrupted both of your nephews,” Lan-xiansheng told Uncle in a tone so smug it bordered on gloating. “And all I had to do for Wangji was steal Yunmeng Jiang’s head disciple for him.” “Xiansheng!” Lan Zhan hissed, mortified.

"What? Why are you embarrassed, Wangji, it’s hardly a secret! Besides, I was going to steal him anyway, because clearly my colleagues in Yunmeng can’t be trusted with the truly exceptional students.” Lan-xiansheng huffed and then added, not quite under his breath, “Idiots.”

~~~

(This meeting is important.” Uncle sighed when Lan Zhan stared at the ground to hide his disappointment. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, but finally added, “However, you may leave once Wei Wuxian returns.” Lan Zhan brightened and thanked him; he pointedly ignored the expressions of everyone within earshot and turned to inform the disciples at the gates to notify him upon Wei Ying’s arrival. “Pushover,” Lan-xiansheng accused Uncle, clearly amused. Uncle muttered, “Which of us bullied the Jiang Sect into giving up its head disciple for him?” )

~~~😂😂 wahhh they really loves him

Come and take it,” Lan Zhan said. He tightened the knot with his teeth, then raised a brow and added, “If you can.” A slow, wicked grin was the only response before Wei Ying leaped forward and the battle resumed. It was hard not to be distracted by the blazing intensity of Wei Ying’s focus. He was beautiful, so bright and vibrant it was like staring at the sun. Lan Zhan could not look away. He felt as though the whole world had shifted when he wasn’t paying attention, and now everything was brighter, warmer. The sun on the earth, scorching. Lan Zhan, drenched in sunlight. Thawing, bit by bit, like winter coaxed into spring, into blooming, by his own personal sun. Had he ever felt this way before? Overwhelmed by the searing heat of happiness, helpless against a smile that widened in slow degrees.

~~

“…Only with you, then.” Lan Zhan swallowed hard, because that was the truth, only he didn’t understand it. “To tease me,” he concluded, with the sinking feeling that he was being mocked. But— “So you’ll pay attention to me,” Wei Ying admitted, looking away as though embarrassed. Truth, Lan Zhan thought numbly. They hadn’t talked about the kiss the night before. Lan Zhan was afraid Wei Ying didn’t want to do it again, but— Wei Ying had just told him something, had been brave enough to be vulnerable with him, so he took a deep breath and met Wei Ying halfway. “I always pay attention to Wei Ying.” Wei Ying’s gaze snapped to his face. “You do not,” he said, half in disbelief. “I do.” “Since when?!” “Since always.” “Oh. Because I caused so much trouble?” Wei Ying wondered. Lan Zhan resisted the urge to shake him. “No.” Wei Ying stared at him expectantly, but Lan Zhan just blinked back at him. “Lan Zhan!” He wriggled in protest. “You can’t just say that and then not explain!” “Behave,” Lan Zhan said mildly, keeping him pinned. “Be nice,” Wei Ying shot back, a little sulky. “Why?” Lan Zhan asked, then smirked at Wei Ying’s look of profound outrage. “What is this! Who are you?! Do you bully anybody else this way?” “Only Wei Ying,” he said with a placid smile; It startled a laugh out of Wei Ying, left him grinning at Lan Zhan from… very close

They are so cute together ❤️

~~~

Lan-er-gongzi, bring your friend over here for a free sample!” “Don’t you want to buy him something special?” “Let him try this, Lan-er-gongzi!” And, worst of all, the elderly woman who sold hand-crafted musical instruments that Lan Zhan often paused to appreciate, who gave him a knowing look and said, “Lan-er-gongzi, does your handsome friend play any instruments?” Ears warm, Lan Zhan admitted, “The dizi.” He could only be grateful Wei Ying hadn’t overheard her, too immersed in his discussion across the street with a local weaver about fabrics and dyes. He grappled with the urge to run away, but the irresistible lure of the gleaming guqins on display proved stronger than the potential embarrassment. “A good duet partner for the guqin,” she said slyly. Lan Zhan ducked his head to hide his burning ears. Why had all of his elders started teasing him so mercilessly? Were they all conspiring to make Lan Zhan’s head explode from embarrassment? Would he ever know peace again?)

No I don't think so ,there will be no peace 😂😂😂

At one point, Wei Ying paused and scanned the street, seemingly oblivious to all attempts to get his attention until he finally spotted Lan Zhan and relaxed, giving him a cheerful wave that made everyone’s focus turn to him for a brief, terrifying moment. He held very still, expression foreboding, and quietly sighed in relief when they swarmed Wei Ying with questions instead. Amateur mistake, Lan Zhan thought with sympathetic amusement as Wei Ying blinked at the sudden teasing interrogation. He did a double take at one of the questions fired at him, rubbed the back of his neck with a bashful expression, and gave a quiet response that had all the aunties in the crowd cooing over him. He glanced at Lan Zhan in silent appeal for help. Lan Zhan just blinked slowly back at him, unmoved, and had the rare, sudden urge to laugh out loud when Wei Ying’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

~~~~

Lan Zhan obviously had zero problems telling people no if the situation called for it— which was often for someone who experienced actual physical pain in every social interaction— but it was more fun with Wei Ying, if only for the amused reaction it got him. …Or, to be more accurate, for the way Wei Ying’s consistently fond responses sparked the deep, golden glow inside his chest that was rapidly becoming a familiar sensation. He treasured it like he did everything else Wei Ying gave him, because Lan Zhan had learned to expect only pain from others; he never could have dreamed the possibility of this quiet, encompassing joy he felt instead. So he let Wei Ying’s playful scolding envelop him like a salt-sewn breeze, let the riptide of affection drag him under. He surrendered to its steady pull, adrift in those gentle waters until the currents finally converged into the vast, muted depths of reverence. And all the fragments of his heart drifted softly in his wake: a love like light refracting through the deep— a love worth drowning in.

~~~

"It has recently come to my attention that a cultivator within this very room possesses a unique ability that could resolve this dispute without any room for doubt. After all, he is one of the most accomplished cultivators of his generation and has an established reputation for integrity.” Lan Zhan’s breath caught in his throat. The world seemed to freeze, suspending him in this sick state of dread, the impending, inescapable sense of doom. In front of him, Huan-ge and Uncle went rigid in their seats; Lan-xiansheng watched Jin Guangshan with narrowed eyes. Wei Ying made a sound of confusion. Nie Mingjue inhaled sharply. Nie Huaisang dropped his fan with a clatter. And Jin Guangyao looked away, right as Jin Guangshan turned to stare directly at Lan Zhan. “As it turns out, this esteemed cultivator is capable of detecting any lie, spoken or unspoken, simply through proximity. Isn’t that right, Lan-er-gongzi?”

~~~

Lan Zhan looked up when Huan-ge whirled around, unclamping his hands in time to hear his brother snap, “Wei Wuxian, get him out of here. Now.” Wei Ying looked a little startled at his tone, everyone else taken aback by the intensity in his voice. But then there were hands on his elbows, pulling him gently to his feet, guiding him through the blurry sea of people. He was aware of white-clad disciples parting, glanced up to find an unyielding line of stone-faced Lan disciples closing ranks again as they passed, covering their exit and blocking line of sight. And Huan-ge, tall and bright and so furious that the force of his qi made everyone shuffle a step aside or even halt in their tracks. His brother was renowned as the perfect diplomat, polite and kind and gentle… so people forgot what it meant to be the First Jade of Lan, the Sect Heir and first ranked in their generation. They forgot that Lan Xichen could be angry

~~~~ fuck Jin Guangyao did itttttt

“Not a curse,” Lan Zhan said stubbornly. How could they call it a curse? How could they reduce his mother’s last gift to him to a curse, let it be stained with all the implications that came with that word, and expect him to be okay with it? Framing it as a curse turned it into something he was forced to bear, something to suffer rather than a gift he would fight tooth and nail to preserve, no matter the cost. Curse implied the caster intended harm and, regardless of the pain and the threat to his golden core, his mother never intended to hurt him— she’d wanted to protect him. Lan Zhan treasured the legacy his mother left him. He didn’t care that her final gift came with pain. If he decided it wasn’t a curse, then it wasn’t a curse.

[theemeraldforestafterdark]

The Moonlit Dance of the Twisted Jester's Blood-soaked Rituals by Moonlight Sorcery

[deathfavor]

TAG DROP 1.

[hisui-dreamer]

Hi, congratulations on 1k followers! I love your writing a lot and I was hoping you could do Villainess AUs with Malleus? Like isekai manhwa style? Thank you!!

the gazelle's sweet briar

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x f!reader

Synopsis: your first objective was to avoid the main characters, but it's not easy when you only have the memories of your friend's ramblings to work off of

Tags: cliché isekai plot, reincarnation, fluff, arranged marriage, tw (mentioned): bad parenting, patriarchal society, death

Word count: 1.6k+

Notes: @coralinnii has an amazing series based on isekai villainesses, so i definitely recommend you check out her work too! im so in love with it (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there lived a villainess of exceptional allure, her visage as enchanting as a moonlit night. However, this bewitching beauty concealed a heart blackened by a singular obsession with appearances.

From the earliest days of her upbringing, her mother, a woman who had managed to step into aristocracy by charming a noble, had instilled in her a cruel belief: that those who were not blessed with physical perfection were destined for lives of relentless mockery and eternal solitude. This twisted ideology consumed the villainess' every thought, blinding her to the virtues of education and morality. She became nothing more than a porcelain doll, admired solely for her aesthetic charm.

The King arranged a marriage between her and Duke Draconia, the enigmatic descendant of the dragons who ruled the northern lands, believing that such a striking bride would surely please the reclusive Duke.

However, the King remained oblivious to the swirling rumours that pervaded the courtly circles. Whispers spoke of the Duke as a hideous man who had never once revealed his face, perpetually concealed behind a forbidding black mask. When the rumours reached the villainess' ears, she threw tantrum after tantrum, vehemently refusing to wed a man whose appearance couldn't possibly match her own.

Yet, a royal decree could not be denied. Reluctantly, the villainess embarked on her journey to the northern realm in bitter acceptance. It had rained the moment she arrived, the castle dark and uninviting, with thorns crawling onto the obsidian walls. The Duke, an oblivious and shy man, did not greet her at the grand entrance. Instead, she was met by the Duke's advisor, a man with a curiously boyish features.

Humiliation welled up within the villainess' heart, for she felt as if she were being played the fool by the entire duchy. On the eve of her arrival, anxiety gnawed at her like a relentless spectre.

As night descended, the Duke, mustering his courage, attempted to approach the vexed lady.

But when the villainess beheld his masked face, terror seized her like a vice. "Stay back! You hideous beast!" she cried out, her voice trembling with fear, and she recoiled, her steps faltering as she retreated from him.

The Duke, wounded by her cruel words, attempted to console her, his outstretched hand beseeching understanding. Yet, her irrational dread overcame her, and she continued her backward retreat until, with a heart-stopping scream, she slipped from an open window.

That was how the villainess' life ended.

you hadn't actually read the book, but it wasn't difficult identifying who you got reincarnated as

especially with how your best friend obsessed over this villainess because, and i quote, "if pretty, why evil, huh???"

you woke up a week before the villainess would depart for the North, but that week alone was enough to make you understand the way she acted

every day, you were fed portions fitting of a child, had your skin rubbed raw as you were bathed, and not a moment of your mother's nitpicking about a sudden imperfection she found in you

in truth, you were more than glad to leave for the North, even if that's where your life would be on the line

the survival plan was simple: maintain an amicable relationship with the duchy until the night the heroine stumbles in to ask for a night of shelter, to which the heroine would heal the emotional wounds of the Duke, and share with him the beauty of love, bringing warmth into his heart

and so, you arrived at the estate, the castle tall and intimidating with the clouds dark and foreboding

still, you stepped out of your carriage (with wobbly legs) and met the advisor (your friend's favourite character, in fact)

the advisor, lilia, though seemed young, was actually the very man who raised the duke in the absence of his parents

he welcomed you as the lady of the duchy, and led you to your quarters

by nightfall, you were quite comfortable with living in the estate

everyone was polite, the food was delicious (and properly sized), and you had no doubt you'd settle nicely here

as a precaution to the death sequence, you decided to take a stroll in the rose garden after dinner

if you were already on the ground floor, you couldn't fall to your death, right?

but unexpectedly, you encountered a lone figure in the centre of the garden

he was incredibly tall, dressed simply, his emerald eyes fixated on the estate

upon closer inspection, you noticed he had long horns as well, perhaps he was a gazelle beastman?

either way, you were curious about what it was that held his attention so strongly that he couldn't notice your presence

"Excuse me, sir? May I ask what is so interesting about the building?" you timidly break the silence of the night.

The man turns to you, his eyes widening in surprise. "... Do you not know who I am?"

You blinked in confusion at his words. His words filled you with a sense of foreboding. You wondered if this person matched any of the characters your friend had so fervently described, but all you could recall was the beautiful villainess and the enigmatic advisor to the Duke.

"My apologies, I'm afraid I do not... May I know your name, sir?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered your question. "No... If that is the case, you may call me whatever you wish."

Perplexed by his response, you tried to come up with a suitable name. "Then... May I call you Mr. Gazelle?"

Upon hearing your words, he burst out in laughter. "Hahaha! What an interesting choice. Very well, I accept the name," he said. "In response to your first question, I was observing the gargoyles of the building."

on that night, not only did you learn more about the fascinating functions gargoyles serve, you also made your first friend in this life

strangely enough, you didn't meet the duke at all unlike the novel, which though strange, you greatly welcomed

if you didn't have any ties with him, then it'd be so much easier to just divorce him, get the money, and live a comfortable luxurious life far away from the main characters

though as you say that, you find yourself wanting to spend more and more time with "Mr Gazelle"

despite his intimidating appearance, he turned out to be a very generous person, frequently gifting you little trinkets he's made or bouquets he's arranged

he's started calling you "Briar", after the roses in the garden where he met you

you greatly appreciated the nickname, it felt better to be called that than the name of the villainess, that you could just be yourself and not play the role of a villainess avoiding ruin

you also find that whatever musings you've mentioned to him, they somehow manifest themselves

oh? you wish you could learn about embroidery? the next day there's a basket full of the highest quality threads and fabrics, with a gentle tutor to help you learn

(you still remember how cute "Mr Gazelle" looked when you gave him your first finished product, a handkerchief with an embroidered gargoyle)

what's this? you'd like to try more desserts from the capital you were never allowed to try? say no more! the next day the chef presents you with 10 different choices!

so you assumed he was an advisor of sorts to the Duke, because how else could your requests be granted so easily?

but one day, around two months after you started living in the duchy, "Mr Gazelle" asked you questions about the duke, whether you were afraid of him, would you prefer to meet him, curious questions like that

though surprised by the topic, you answered honestly, saying you don't really believe in the rumours (because you know from your friend he's an ethereal beauty) and yes, you would like to meet your husband

and what do you know? lilia informs you the duke wants to share dinner with you. what a coincidence!! :)

Nervousness held you in its grasp as you stepped into the room. Your gaze remained fixed on the carpet beneath your feet, and your knees bent gracefully as you executed the perfect curtsey.

"Your Grace."

You could hear sounds of shuffling, and then a pair of black boots entered your field of vision. Familiar hands found yours, guiding you to rise and stand upright. "Rise, my Briar," he murmured gently.

With hesitant anticipation, you finally looked up, taking in the obsidian mask that concealed his face. That voice, that nickname, and those enchanting eyes—it was all too familiar.

"Mr Gazelle..." you whispered in disbelief.

His eyes narrowed in mirth as he chuckled. "Although I hold great fondness for that name, I do wish you could call your husband by his name," he said as he began to remove his mask.

"Malleus..." you breathed.

A tender smile graced his lips, and his eyes sparkled with affection as he delicately brushed a stray lock of hair from your face—a gesture he had done countless times before. "My sweet Briar, I implore you to forgive me for deceiving you. I wished nothing more but to know you," he pleaded.

Oh, with how loud your heart was pounding in your chest, you realized that you were irrevocably and hopelessly ensnared in a love story that had deviated far from the original story.

But you didn't feel a single ounce of regret.

Masterlist

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[spidercookie18]

your heart was pounding. it felt like it was seconds from beating out of your chest. your legs instinctively moved forward. not willing to turn around. not willing to stop moving.

your breath was so loud in your ears. it only served to make the fear in your belly grow bigger. the fear of how loud you were being. you were sure he could hear you. the adrenaline made you nauseous. or maybe it was how hard you were running. what would happen when he caught you? you didn't want to know.

it was rare to say that the boys scared you. they were trusted souls that you spent much of your time around...but they were still wild animals at heart. beasts with an appetite that could not be satiated by mortal standards. they could eat, and devour, and gorge til their hearts content. they didn't always eat for sustenance, but they always ate their fill of flesh.

as you ran through the woods, the trees snagged your clothes. the rocks and thorns cut through your skin. the thin branches whipped across your cheeks as you pushed through a thicket. trying desperately to flee from what was hunting you down. you could feel the warm blood and tears trickle down your face. they chilled your skin as they cooled. it was a sickening feeling that drove you forward. there was little you could do to guide yourself through the night. the moonlight barely shone though the canopy of the forest. blinding you. trapping you. you were a mouse running in his labyrinth. he was toying with you. and you knew it.

if this brunet beast wanted to catch you, he could have easily done so by now. he was enjoying this. you couldn't have imagined your fling with Paul the other night would drive Dwayne to this. he was livid that him and the others had to stand off to the side while you had your way with Paul. you were having innocent fun. well, not so innocent. but you didn't think his jealousy would make him go absolutely mad.

he lured you to the woods in the night. with promises of passionate moonlit love making. soft, sweet, gentle love and the warm embrace that Dwayne was best at. you had pictured his big strong arms wrapped around you. keeping you safe, sweet nothings of hiding you away from his brothers and making you his.

but this was nothing like you'd imagined.

you waited for him, in the cold and the dark of night. you waited almost to the point where you thought of leaving. the sense of unease in your belly.

something was watching you

you had no idea it was the gentle giant you knew and loved. mad with envy. he finally appeared when you called him. his phone ringing in the tree nearby. he landed in front of you. the quiet sound of his shoes touching the ground was a reminder, in the back of your mind, that he was a hunter. you only knew he was there, because he wanted you to know. when he stood, and walked to you, it made the hair on your body stand on end. something was wrong. very wrong. you tried to call out to him, but your voice left you the second you noticed his gleaming eyes. they looked like they were glowing as he moved towards you in the night. you felt your body shiver. was it from the cold? or from fear? he chuckled. it was darker than you'd come to know. Dwayne was going to prove a point to you.

something to be feared, and not toyed with. he was a predator, a monster, a vampire. and he was going to have you, whenever he wanted you.

"It seems you've forgotten your place, rabbit." his voice boomed in his chest. you felt your heartbeat pick up. you moved a foot behind you. your body instinctively getting ready to flee from danger. "run, rabbit," that sickening laughter left the cavern of his sternum again. from the dim moonlight you could see Dwaynes fangs peak through his smile. "run."

that was all you needed. maybe it was his thrall, or how he acted. but you were afraid.

afraid didn't even begin to cover it. you felt a pure, primal fear etch its way through your veins. it settled into your bones and tore through your muscles. it screamed and shouted like a siren going off in your brain. and it told you, like Dwayne had, to run.

your next step took you by surprise. the ground was further down than you anticipated, and you tumbled to your knees. you hit the cold, wet dirt hard. your palms were scraped, and gravel and dirt stuck to your hands. you sucked in air through your teeth. your body ached. a thousand thoughts raced through your mind and you knew this was an opening Dwayne would not hesitate to take advantage of. you heard his deep laugh in your ears; like he was right behind you. and you flinched. there was no one there.

he was in your head.

you shut your eyes. trying to focus on what was happening. this was not a break you could afford to have. with a cry, you willed yourself to get up. your legs buckled as you tried to stand, and as you found your bearings, you were knocked back to the ground.

Dwayne blindsided you. he tackled you from your side, full speed, and you bent as he hurled you both across the air. when you finally hit the ground, you felt the wind be knocked from you. his weight was unbelievable. the dense muscle structure of him and his vampire brothers made them incredibly heavy. you kicked and screamed, but you knew it wouldn't help. you tried to push him off. you clawed at him and at the ground. anything you could think of.

his nails gripped into your sides, and Dwayne turned you onto your stomach. you tensed. waiting. preparing. for the pain of him. to tear your flesh like paper. like you'd seen them do to others. you could feel the vampire's breath on the back of your neck. the anticipation of Dwaynes fangs brought tears to your eyes. you tried to tense your shoulders to hide your neck from him, but he easily gripped the back of your head and moved it to make a space for his mouth. you could hear the wet of his mouth as he prepared to devour you. you felt a sob come from you. involuntary, and the last thing you did before Dwayne came down on your skin.

"Got you."

his voice was calm again. smooth, and warm like amber, with a hint of sadistic humor in it. instead of the sensation of his sharp fangs, it was a gentle kiss to your ear. the sound and feel of his lips against the shell of your ear was a shock to you. "w-what?" your voice came out meek and confused. "I got you, haha." Dwayne was amused. he shifted to the side and got off of you. he gently helped you up to sit on the ground in front of him. you were still in shock. your mind went blank. the adrenaline of fleeing for your life, and the unknown threat of Dwayne's foreign behavior, juxtaposed to his kind smile now was a shock. the way he looked over you. he was plucking the leaves and twigs from your hair. gently straightening out your clothes.

"you were really scared weren't you?" Dwayne laughed. "I can hear your heart beating sooo loud." he retracted his hands from your hair, and sat on his haunches in front of you. his large brown eyes bore into you. they looked over your form, and they finally settled on the cuts along your palms, and your cheeks. "oh, babydoll, let me fix that." he took your hands in his and turned your palms up towards him. he rubbed his thumbs over the dirt to wipe it off, and with the flat of his tongue he licked the blood off your skin. the sting of the abrasions in the meat of your hand slowly dissipated. his tongue was cool, and wet, it helped soothe the last of the pain.

"you-," your mind was ablaze with an array of emotions. Dwayne ignored you. he sat forward and his wide, slimy tongue licked across your cheeks to your ears. Covering the length of the thin cuts in your face in his saliva. getting the last of the blood off of you. "you fucking asshole!" You shoved your hands into Dwayne's chest. "you scared the crap out of me!" you punched his shoulder. angry that he did this just to mess with you.

you were pissed. and Dwayne was laughing again. "oh come on, I wasn't going to do anything," he snickered.

you huffed, "you hurt me!"

"no i didn't," he scoffed.

"I'm bleeding!"

"well, not anymore"

"you tackled me!"

"oh yeah, i forgot about that,"

he reached a hand out to you, apologetic in his nature; but you, still angry, pushed him away. "fuck this, I'm going home,"you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. he lied to you, and made you run though the woods. your nice outfit was cut up and filthy now. there was no point in sticking around for whatever he actually had planned.

Dwayne watched you stand and turn to leave, "if you do that, I'll just bring you right back here."

you flipped him off, still walking away from him. having no actual idea where you were in the forest you picked a direction and started off.

"Y/N, I'm warning you," Dwayne called after you.

"fuck you!" you tried to feel for your phone in your pocket. praying you didn't drop it somewhere under a log or something. luckily, you found it. you decided that you were just going to call one of the other boys to come and get you. that would really piss Dwayne off, but you wanted to get even with him. deliberately trying to get under his skin. as you were about to start dialing for one of the other vampires, you felt the ground leave from under you. Dwayne came up behind you. he simply picked you up around the waist, and walked you right back over to where he had tackled you. you flailed against his hold, and he placed you back on the ground. your feet felt the safety of the dirt below, and pushed him off. you grunted, and turned around to leave. He stepped in front of you. "Dwayne, knock it off," you turned again and started to leave. Dwayne scooped you up in his arms and walked you back. "Dwayne! I'm serious!" you shouted at him. He still had you cradled in his arms.

"I'm serious too. I'll just keep bringing you right back here." he gently squeezed you in his arms.

You pushed your hands to his chest, "put me down you jerk!"

"okay, fine" he opened his arms, and you fell five feet to the ground.

you hit the ground with an 'oomph'. your ass and back were hurting now. you hated imagining the way the mud looked on the back of your pants. you shifted to the side to rub the back of your hip where you fell. Dwayne was looking down at you. half sorry, and half irritated with you.

thats it. you were done fighting him. you grabbed your phone, and with your muddy fingertips you swiped at the screen.

"what are you doing?"

"I'm calling Paul to come get me," you crinkled your nose at the brunet.

Dwayne laughed. "What's Paul gonna do? He's not gonna take you away from me. He doesn't even answer his phone!"

"He does when I call him,"you stuck your tongue out at him. the phone was ringing. after a moment, Paul picked up. you both could clearly hear his jovial voice through the speaker. "Paul, I need you to come get me, Dwayne's being an- aah!," Dwayne scooped you up without letting you finish your sentence. the fast motion of him grabbing you almost made you drop your phone. you were fighting to get out of his hold, but after you realized how high up you were, you clung to him. "D-Dwayne put me down!" You tried to sound fierce, the faux threat of what could happen if he denied your request. "Poor choice of words, Y/N," you could feel Dwaynes hold on you slip. "WAIT!" you clung to the collar of his jacket. anywhere you could get your hands.

you both could hear Paul's worried voice through the phone.

'y/n? what happened?'

"You are being a fucking brat!" Dwayne snarled in your face. "You're being a bigger brat!" you wiggled and grunted against him. "

Will you stop?!" Dwayne held you easily by one arm around your waist, and with the other he gripped your chin; forcing you to look at him. "I'm sick of your attitude!" Dwayne's face was in a hard scowl. He looked down at you through his glistening eyes, but you tried your damndest to keep from looking at him. he dug his nails into your jaw, pulling your face closer to his. "Look at me!" he growled. there were tears of frustration threatening to break over your waterline. you stared defiantly up at him. the redness in the tip of your nose beginning to grow as you tried to hold back your tears. your breast heaving against his chest. the furrow in your brows. even with all the anger in your round, little face, Dwayne couldn't help but think you looked adorable. you, this small, angry creature, covered in mud and still vaguely smelling of blood and perfume. you hated him in this moment. with all the passion your body could hold, you hated him. but that passion turned into something else as Dwayne pushed his lips against yours. the hate and anger in you morphed into heat. heat in your face. in your chest. all though your body you felt hot. you kissed him back, still desperately clinging to him. his lips were so full and soft against yours, though he kissed you with feverish want. you couldn't help but moan into his mouth. a soft whimper left you as he moved to kiss down your throat. he snatched the phone from you and turned you around. you were disheartened to feel the absence of his kiss on your body. Dwayne still had his arm around your waist, and flew you both over to a nearby branch. your body was thrust into the branch. it hurt like hell. you could feel the wind be knocked from you. your legs dangled freely in the air. it was evident from the deep pain that there would be a harsh bruise across your abdomen when this was all over. Dwane slid the phone across the branch til it was just out of your reach. you tried to pull yourself up and across the branch, but a large hand was pressed against your back to hold you in place. Dwayne hooked a finger into the hem of your jeans, and ripped the seat of your pants open. the grating sound of the denim ripping was enough to make Paul start screaming worryingly into the phone again.

'y/n! are you okay? what's happening??'

"Paul ju-," you tried to reach for the phone to hang it up, but the vampire nearest you had no intention of letting you get it. Dwaynes fingertips dug into the plush of your hips. his claws leaving harsh red lines as he pulled your ass up towards him. your phone just out of reach on the branch. you didn't dare try for it again for fear of losing your grip on the tree. you could feel Dwayne's breath on you again. this time, it was lower, much lower. he gave a teasing lick across your bare slit and you yelped. poor Paul on the other end could only listen to your cries. he had no clue where you both were, and even if he did, Dwayne would just drag you away to a another hiding place. you could feel your brunet captor give another teasing lick across your cunt. this time, it dug lightly between your folds. he pressed his wriggling muscle further and further into your warm slit. his tongue was sitting fat in your cunt. it wiggled in and out of you. dragging across the ridges of your pretty pink pussy. you bit your lip, trying to keep your moaning to yourself. you didn't want poor Paul to have to listen to that. Dwayne knew you were trying to be quiet, but he wanted to punish you and Paul. he wanted his little 'brother' to be jealous. both that he was enjoying the taste of you, and that he wasn't part of the mix. Dwayne started twisting his tongue inside of you. He latched his lips around your sopping cunt and sucked on your needy little bud while his tongue worked you over. "Oh fuck! Dwayne!" your voice sounded so whiney. it was such a horny sound you were making, and you tried to burry your face in your forearms.

Dwayne was satisfied with your reaction, and slowly pulled his tongue out of you. He watched as your feet kicked desperately at the branch below, trying to find something to stand on to no avail. He rubbed himself through his jeans, and teasingly rubbed his thumb and forefinger across your slit. he undid his fly and button, he lazily massaged your aching nub. he heard your breath catch in your throat, and your desperate little dance of trying to find something to stand on only grew as you looked to find a way to get more pressure to your nub.

Dwayne licked his lips. the smell of your want in the air was enough to drag low growls from him. he wanted to take you then and there when he first caught you, but he was worried he overdid it. he wanted to get your hear racing, but he still wanted you to enjoy yourself.

your vampire lover was languidly stroking his cock. he lined himself up with your entrance and dragged his tip up and down your slit to collect some of your love. he bit his lip in anticipation. Dwayne looked over to the phone screen, that was still lit with the call screen and Paul's contact name. "Hey Paul," Dwayne called out. His deep voice echoing through the treetops. "I want you to listen. real closely," the brunet poorly stifled a chuckle. you gasped loudly as he pushed slowly into you. your breath hitching in your throat. the sharp cry of a wounded animal; being pierced by this beast. Dwayne watched as your should blades shifted under your clothes, watching you paw at the tree. not actually trying to get away as you wanted him more to devour you. he savored how you opened for him as he pushed further in. and you could feel your eyes cross as he continued to stretch you.

it was always a feat to take Dwayne.

it was a tight squeeze. you could feel your walls gripping the life out of Dwaynes member. even with the extra lubrication from Dwaynes slimy tongue, it was hard for him to move. your nails dug into the bark of the tree. you could feel the tears beginning to pick the sides of your eyes. Paul was on the other end, still listening to you gasp for air. the high pitched, broken whines in between your panting. Dwayne finally settled against your cervix. if you weren't pressed flush against the tree you were sure you'd be able to see the bulge of him through your skin. he gave a gentle push further in, wishing so horribly that you could take his last inch. you winced. it was almost painful, and he hadn't even started moving. Dwayne pulled back,

s l o w l y

dragging his heavy tip through the ridges of your tight cunt. it was agonizingly slow. you half wanted to turn around and beg him to hurry up and fuck you. his tip sat just on the inside of your entrance. almost all the way out of you. he tugged his hips backwards and with a loud POP, your cunt released him. "oohhh, fuck," he growled. he gripped himself around the base, and wiped his tip across your clit. he gathered more of your love that was beginning to drip down you, and eagerly shoved it back inside. "ooooh, Dwayne,"a breathy moan left your throat. he pressed through your walls again, and pressed himself against your ass. he was as flush against you as he could be, and he gripped the rest of your jeans and ripped them further apart. he half pulled himself back. his fingers laced themselves through the loops on your pants and slammed himself back in you. he pushed you forward against the branch. he started an eager speed. it wasn't overly fast, but it was firm. he fucked into you with a steady pace. all you could do was hold on for dear life as he fucked into you. the wet sounds coming from you two. the sloppy sucking sounds of your cunt as it enveloped Dwayne. "oohhh fuck that's good" he grunted. you were embarrassed that Paul had to hear that. why hadn't he hung up by now? you couldn't reach the phone to hang up, you just waited for Dwayne to finish having his way with you. "m'sorry Dwayne, I'm Sorry!" you tried to focus your vision on the dim light of your phone screen. anything to keep your mind off how good your lower-half felt. "I know you're sorry, babydoll" Dwayne laughed. his thrusts were painful. every push felt like he was trying to break through your cervix. and every pull felt like he was dragging your organs out. "you're sooo sorry, you just needed to be fucked, nice and good didn't cha?" he accentuated his thrusts on his words. he was grunting. trying to remember how mad he was with you and Paul. he'd almost forgotten about Paul.

he wasn't just fucking the brat out of you, he was putting on a performance.

Dwayne adjusted his hold on you. he wrapped an arm around your belly, still keeping you up while your legs were dangling freely in the air. and with his other, he spat on his fingers and reached around for your clit. you let out a wail when his wet fingertips started rubbing quick circles around your nub. "Dwayne!" you were mortified to be moaning his name so loudly.

"you hear that Paul?" Dwayne spat. "she's begging, for me!" he felt you clench tighter and tighter around him. it felt like you were sucking him in. when he pulled back, you only sucked him in further. "come for me babygirl," his skilled fingers easily brought you over the edge. and you felt the release come in waves. Dwayne felt your warm wet cunt pulse around his length, and you screamed. you screamed like it was the last sound you'd ever make. like it was your saving grace. your legs shook, and you continued to milk Dwayne's cock for everything it was worth. "mmhp, fuck," Dwayne grunted. he continued to piston his hips against you, riding you through your high. it was euphoric. you felt like you were on cloud 9 as your vampire lover continued to use you as a fuck toy. you fell limp against the tree. if Dwayne wasn't still holding you up, you'd have surely fallen. the brunet thrusted one more harsh move against you, and forced his extra inch down into your cunt. you cried out, and he spurted his cum deep inside you.

Dwayne was bent over you. his long hair coming across your face. his forehead was pressed against your back as he finished painting your insides white. he kissed your back gently, and listened to the soft breathing from your lungs. he pushed himself up and gently started to pull out of you. when he saw his come immediately start to drip out, he pressed himself fully back into you. he didn't want it dripping out of you on the way home. and he'd completely ripped your panties off along with your destroyed jeans. he chuckled when he realized he was going to have to take you home, fully sheathed in you. he leaned across you and picked up your phone and spoke into it, "we'll be home soon. see you then." he hung up on Paul and put your phone in his jacket pocket. "now... how the hell am i going to do this?"

[archiveikemen]

“The Past Records: Roger Barel • Alfons Sylvatica” Collection Event

Event Preview

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

It was before a single little robin wandered into the dark night—

Roger’s collection of medical records reflected the hidden memories of the past.

…

Roger: Al! As promised, you and I are friends from today on.

Alfons: Say whatever you want, I’ll never acknowledge it in this lifetime.

Unexpectedly, the arm around my shoulder felt warm.

It had been a long time since I last had company. No, rather, it was the first time I had someone next to me at the bottom of the hellhole called “despair”.

And it was definitely the same case for this man.

Roger: Al, I promise you this. Someday, I’ll—

…

Episode 1: The Grim Reaper Tempts The Hunter

This episode talks about a certain encounter exposed by the moonlit night, and the debate surrounding Victor and Roger’s curses.

Victor: I never said “I” was a Cursed One.

Roger: … This bastard.

…

Episode 2: The Story of the Hunter and the Greedy Queen Begins

This episode is about the start of the story of Elbert, who hates doctors, and the former doctor Roger.

Roger: No matter what, I’ll never touch you without your consent.

Elbert: …

Roger: If I ever break this promise, I’ll never come near you again.

…

Episode 3: The Hunter Hides the Fleeting Truth From The Briar Thorns

Before they joined Crown, the bond between Ellis and Roger deepened when they revealed the misery in their hearts.

Elllis: … Hey, Roger. You can forget about all of it.

Roger: Forget?

Ellis: Yeah. Forget about me being a Cursed One, and about what you’re keeping to yourself without telling anyone.

…

Episode 4: The Disturbing Promise Between the Hunter and the Intelligent Yakuza

Due to a certain incident, Jude opens up to Roger about his painful memories related to cigarettes.

Roger: You don’t look like a heavy smoker. You’re always smoking stuff that doesn’t require much effort.

Roger: If you’re only smoking to make your work go smoother—

Jude: That ain’t the only reason.

…

Episode 5: The Medical Records Reflect the Hunter’s Hidden Love

All members of Crown appear in this episode. The egoist’s secret internal thoughts are revealed.

There’s no escaping our “tragic end”. But, if I could find a way to escape…

The result of that— would be the smiles of these guys being spared from fate.

“How much longer are you going to keep this up?” A question Al once asked me resurfaced in my chest.

Roger: Al, this is my answer to your question.

…

Epilogue: The Medical Record of the Love Between the Hunter and I

The consultation that started filling up his lover’s medical records— was the Hunter’s sweet trap.

Kate: … What can we do to deepen our understanding of each other?

While we were making out, Roger effortlessly lifted me and pinned me onto the examination table…

Roger: Do I have to teach you what comes after this, little lady…?

Will the information in the medical records of the Cursed Ones reflect the Hunter’s betrayal, or—?

This love will definitely exceed your expectations.

[invalidstories]

Moonlit Bonds

Warning: vague mention of violence, emotional intimacy, sickness

On a moonlit night, the city sprawled beneath them like a glittering tapestry, its lights twinkling in the darkness as Hero and Villain clashed on the rooftop of a towering skyscraper. The air crackled with tension as their powers collided, each determined to emerge victorious in their eternal struggle.

"I won't let you get away with your crimes any longer, Villain!" Hero declared, their voice echoing across the rooftop.

Villain scoffed, their expression twisted with amusement. "And what makes you think you can stop me, Hero? You're nothing but a thorn in my side."

But as the battle raged on, Hero's movements grew sluggish, their once vibrant aura fading to a pale glow. Villain noticed the change immediately, their grumpy demeanor softening for a fleeting moment as concern flickered in their eyes.

"You don't look so good, Hero," Villain remarked, their voice surprisingly gentle. "Are you feeling alright?"

Hero managed a weak smile, despite their exhaustion. "I've been better," they admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. "But I'll be fine."

But Villain wasn't convinced. Without hesitation, they scooped Hero up in their arms, their surprising strength supporting Hero's weakened form.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," Villain said, their tone gruff but caring. "I won't let you suffer alone."

Hero couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected display of kindness from their longtime adversary. "Never thought I'd see the day when Villain became the hero," they teased, their voice laced with affection.

Villain rolled their eyes but didn't protest, their focus solely on getting Hero to safety. And as they carried Hero back to their hideout, the cityscape stretched out below them, a breathtaking panorama of lights and shadows.

In the quiet moments that followed, Hero rested against Villain's chest, their breathing slow and steady as they basked in the warmth of Villain's embrace. And amidst the soft glow of the moonlight, they found themselves opening up to each other, sharing secrets and dreams they had never dared to speak aloud.

As Hero's strength began to return, they found themselves lost in the depths of Villain's eyes, their hearts pounding in unison with the rhythm of the night. And in that moment, they knew that their connection went beyond the confines of hero and villain—a love that transcended the boundaries of right and wrong, binding them together in a bond stronger than any force in the universe.

And as they gazed into each other's eyes, their hearts overflowing with emotion, Villain whispered words that echoed through the silent room, a promise of love and devotion that filled Hero's soul with hope:

"Despite everything, despite all the battles we've fought, I've never felt more alive than I do with you by my side. And no matter what the future holds, I'll always be here for you, my dear Hero." Masterlist

[briarvalleyarchives]

ᴡᴇᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴀʏ

╰┈➤ ❝ blessings are given on occasions of great joy and celebration in the valley of thorns where the fae dwell. one such occasion is, of course, the celebration of everlasting love and all that may follow. ❞

Event Duration: 1st of May — 14th of June

1. One More Happy Ending • [Azul x Fem!Reader]

In which your sick husband, Jade, asks you to remarry as his final wish.

by @moonlit-midnight

2. Time has brought your heart to me • [Floyd x Reader]

In which you finally reunite with the love of your life at his brother’s wedding.

by @moonlit-midnight

3. Until death do us part • [Lilia x Reader]

wedding vows are one of the most important parts of the initial ceremony, besides the kiss and exchange of rings. of course, this ceremony can be done anywhere and the most well known words that the officiator speaks “until death do you part”

by @crow-stars

4. A happy beginning now is ours [Multiple x Reader]

wedding headcanons with leona, azul, vil and malleus

by @pyroxeene

5. Portent • [Lilia, Malleus's parents, Baul Zigvolt]

A Queen's shotgun wedding at a military camp is observed by her apprehensive friend/general by @chernabogs

6. The Great Union that defies all Odds • [Leona x Reader]

As wedding bells chime in June for the Fairy Gala’s Fairy Queen and her fiancé the Fairy Lord of Winter, Leona and you join hands in coming up with a wedding dress design for the Fairy Queen.

by @thebettybook

7. Happily Ever After...soon enough anyways • [Malleus x Reader]

In which Malleus and you are in the midst of planning your wedding. Shenanigans arise.

by @vera-deville

8. Underneath this Moon • [Lilia x Reader]

Lilia and you recite your vows and get married.

by @animusicnerd

[screamingcrows]

Nothing will be spared

Chapter 1 - The future can't be real

Notes: Shhh... I know I said 'no Dottore series' but that was a different me. There'll be eight chapters in total, that's it. Don't squint too hard at this, and do not use this for AI. Tags: dottore x fem!reader, reincarnation au, canon-divergent, angel reader, death, hurt/comfort, teyvat speculation if you squint Minors, blank, and ageless blogs; DNI

"This world is flawed!"

A silence reserved for the grave settled between the watchers present, countless of their moonlit gazes sharpening. Your voice rang through the assembly, painfully accusatory to your own ears.

The amber eyes of your Mistress burned in their inquisition, radiance too great for you to bear in this moment. Not when your thoughts had become mercurial, expectations of hidden cruelty pleading for you to turn and run before blades impaled themselves in your wings.

Whispers erupted in Her silence, questions of your own erosion floating between the countless gilded pillars that held up the carefully crafted dome of protection, the beyond too much for Her fledgling children to withstand. Their golden trims were beautifully crafted, reflecting only warmth whenever your eyes had apprehensively examined them. From the very beginning, the act itself had torn at your being, guilt working so desperately to push back the accusations that were now flowing from you lips.

A steadying breath before the continuation was needed, "Blessed Mother, I seek not to question your judgement, yet-"

"Yet you speak with such malice in your heart, step forward then, let me see from where your doubts spring," Her voice curled pleasantly around your form, tiny pinpricks moving along your skin at the sorrow that tinged her words.

Fate was inescapable. Even for one as you. How long and in what detail had She known that this moment would come to pass?

Still, your eyes remained firmly on the marbled ground as you sank to your knees, intent on showing the immense regret that She no doubt expected to sense. The whispers had died with the first syllable on Her tongue, the only merciful distraction being the occasional ruffle of feathers.

"My kin were created to care for the humans and guide them through their lives, such was the purpose we received from your lips when life was breathed into us. It pains me to see shards break from their souls, it must be possible to do-"

Her raised hand froze the continuation on your tongue, the eternal summer night dispersed within seconds, "They are perpetual, my child, nothing is lost, that was my blessing to this world, even to apostates like him," a brief hint of something unfamiliar, uncertain perhaps, hung in Her voice "you all know this."

Humiliation flared in your chest at the subtle questioning of your faith, murmurs of acknowledgement carried upon the soft clouds. The same comfort that mercilessly bid storms to rage below.

"With my own eyes, I saw the cavity left behind. Please, at least let some investigate it, I want nothing more than to be proven wrong" you knew this was beyond your rights, but She was always kind, and you could no longer handle how you had been choking on guilt ever since, how thorns dug into your wings whenever they spread to ferry another, "if your beloved creations are in danger, shouldn't you do something?"

Color drained from the stars, plunging the ethereal abode into a pale night. You needn't look to know the rest of your kin had dropped to their knees as well. With eyes closed, you awaited judgement, jolted to life when icy fingertips brushed your cheek.

Surely, after all the care of creating them, She would listen.

"You will abandon this course."

The days since had been filled with nothing but confusion and misery, forced to return where you'd first awoken and relive the extensive instructions on carrying souls between their tethers. A duty that was, and had been, second nature for millennia while phantom weariness settled in the corners. The instructors refused to meet your gaze as they drew maps across the stars, showing each constellation to which you'd been assigned.

Nourish the dead so they may tread the path paved for them. Guide them to shed their toils so they may be born anew.

The words tolled ceaselessly in your mind, but instead of invoking contentment all that spread with each pulse was a dark fog further muddling thoughts already bordering on blasphemy. With a heavy sigh, you reminded yourself that the shadows lining your vision weren't the blackening of feathers as mortals so loved to portray.

With a heavy heart, you watched as the young man went up in flames, futile cries for a mother who hadn't responded for years, for anything that would have him, were drowned out by passionate yells. The first few times life had bled from those garnets, it had been no different than any other meeting an unfortunate end. A final screech tore apart the air before the spectators roared, backs being patted with a careless satisfaction only humans could wield.

How come he had those striking eyes every time?

The crowd was nothing as you moved, a flicker of satisfaction tingling when shivers ran down their spines. For some so willing to mete out death, their unease in the presence of life had always been a conundrum. With the gentleness of a lover, you coaxed the soul from its charred vessel, brushing along the cerulean hair that seemed to haunt him in every life. As flames continued to lick at the lifeless husk, lips were pressed to it in what had become a silent ritual, ensuring that no body decayed before it could be loved.

Shimmering tendrils connected the soul in your arms and tethered it to the ground, the energy stretching to accommodate as you rose through the air, once again at ease as the sights below vanished. The cracks were there, thin and barely visible, but so unmistakably present, spreading their threads from the small cavity that had formed. Slowly, the energies shifted, connecting him instead to the stars above. You needn't look to know where they led, having long since learned where in the sky oculus haeresis sat.

Why had She woven such a thing into being, claiming it done as an act of love? If the beginning was certain and the end determined, their will would still be free throughout the rest, fate operating on a separate layer of existence than they would ever influence. Suffering was free to exist in the space between, you knew this, it gave their lives purpose to have. But to force tragedy onto every end was different.

Clouds gathered beneath your feet, golden pillars visible in the distance from the recluse you'd chosen. Away from the main areas was always preferable for souls like his, requiring as few disturbances as possible. Containing the possibility that he might influence others. A soft hum rippled the clouds, urging them to become what he needed to see upon waking. Imagining what exact shapes and colors they took always in the back of your mind, curious to know what could put fated prey at ease. Perhaps it wasn't a bad question to ask, meaningless enough at surface level to lower his guard while allowing for further discussion.

Voice a gentle melody, the soul slipped from your grasp, tendrils of mist wrapping around it and give it a shape of its own before he awoke. "You're safe now, open your eyes slowly."

Nothing was expelled with the cough that wrung itself from him, and a smile tugged at your lips at the human mind's blindness to the change in bodily composition. They were creatures who thrived on habit, no matter how furiously they claimed otherwise.

"Safety?" another cough, voice still as though breathing cinders, "safety is nothing but an empty promise."

For a moment, you merely observed the way his eyes darted around, surprise, confusion, and disbelief all flickering across his expression in the span of a breath. Times like these always rekindled your purpose, smiling as the young man laid back down, chuckles bubbling forth to fill the space between him and the barrier.

Despite time being meaningless, no more than a few breaths passed before he spoke, voice eager to understand as always, "I was burned at the stake," a hand ran through the hair, exploratively tugging at the strands, "yet here I am, waking as if from a bad dream."

"Perhaps that's all it was."

"Then all my life has been nothing but a slumber," he felt along something in the illusion before continuing, "how else can I explain these sights? Foliage only recorded in tomes, a forgiving sky, and a someone looking at me as though they understand. This cannot coexist with the life that I know, and such, one must be false."

He was always so tantalizingly close to seeing the truth, a warmth blooming in your chest at the peaceful expression, an unspoken hope - no fear - that this was the only place he experienced such calm.

"And what life did you know?"

His body righted, hands reaching to cup and crush nothing, "I do not recall sunlight touching my skin for the first decade, and for the second, there was far too much of it."

It was hauntingly familiar, so similar to what he always described. Stowed away as a child and tossed away once his peers had faith their consciences could remain clear upon his exile. There was no indignation in his voice, just as there had been no lasting scars on his soul. Most of the time he went easily through the flames, willing to forget the short life that had been lived. With maturity it became more difficult, took further coaxing before he parted with the experiences.

"If not a dream, what is this place where roses shimmer around the edges? We have yet to hear a single sound except our voices and a tolling bell."

So even now, he heard the cleansing bell? A relieved smile settled in your eyes before answering, "This is a place of rest, and I am here to guide you so that your life can no longer burden your soul."

You saw his eyes narrow and rove over your body, bitterness creeping into his tone, "An adeptus? No, unlikely. Whatever you are, such kindness is never offered freely."

A small chuckle ran through your body, oh how you'd missed this soul and the eternal bite of his tongue. His hands were swatting at the clouds, as though he could dispel the mirage to prove himself right.

"There is no need to be so wary, as a child of these stars, it is your birthright to be offered serenity," until you are once more ready to descend, "tell me, who were you?"

A snarl wrenched itself from his lips, the sheer force briefly dispersing a part of the soft clouds cradling you both. Once, you had asked the question, crimson eyes growing distant and a hand tugging at soft tufts of hair before the child admitted to not knowing. Another time, the teen had hugged his legs a little tighter, whispering a single word. 'Unwanted'. Other times, the man would laugh, titles falling like feathers from his frame.

"Not before you tell me what you are."

"I guide the souls of the departed, that will have be enough to satiate your curiosity for now. Rest assured, you will know more in time."

He spat out the answer, "Zandik," while boring holes into your form, most likely attempting to cut open your intentions.

Unless his parents had somehow gleaned fate it had to be an epithet, and if they truly had there would've been far worse consequences for his village of birth to handle. Your expression betrayed nothing, a small nod the only fitting response to a fate crueler than the ends he met. Zandik had grown quiet as well, as though reality was settling in the bones that lay far below, ephemeral hands brushing along a body as real as them in motions that appeared soothing.

"Are you going to sit there and gawk at me like a beast on display for the rest of eternity? I've answered your questions, isn't it time you do the same?" indignation dripped from his words as a hand stretched to reach you, "and don't think I can be placated by beautiful fallacies. Tell me what this place is."

No words were spoken, instead stopping his motion by grasping the curious hand, feeling nothing but smoke from its caress as you placed the palm to your chest, praying he could feel the steady heartbeat you had willed your body to produce. It was an odd gesture, but one that helped calm most souls.

"I will never speak falsehoods, Zandik," the name was spoken with extra care, wishing for the last memories of it to be pleasant, perhaps that could eradicate the rest, "in this world, we all have our purpose. With that comes responsibility and knowledge, some of which is for our hearts only. I will answer all that I can, and in due time, you will know all that you need, such is the aim of the paths we tread upon."

"So you refuse to tell me? Fine, I'll figure it out by myself, I always do."

Such certainty made containing a smile nigh impossible. He always did? If that was the truth he needed, then it was one to be nourished.

The world remained a cresting dawn for far too long as he sat in idle meditation, fingers drumming once more as restlessness settled in the silence. Seasons had without doubt passed below the familiar coverage, had they also passed in the mirage he saw? You could only watch with bated breath as watchers glided past, souls cradled tenderly in their arms as they were cleansed. Their eyes purposefully avoided your direction, tongues no doubt longing to question the sensibility of allowing you the mercy of duty.

A sigh prefaced the question you'd already anticipated from Zandik, "How much longer must we meditate?"

"Until you're ready," patience and encouragement were essential, "perhaps we should take a break for now?"

His head dropped, fists slowly relaxing their grip. The light glittered along the cracks in quiet mockery, once they spread further, would it appear as though delicate lace had been draped across him? If only you could bring Her here without endangering Zandik's soul, if not for Her to mend it, then at least believe that something had gone awry.

'Mortals must be sheltered from these things, lest it overwhelms their soul.' Such were the teachings, and no one dared asked from where the certainty came, knowing the sorrow upon Her face would be too much to bear.

"And what if I will never be ready? How can I declare myself prepared for a future you refuse to share with me?"

There was a distinct lack of bite to his voice, a realization that fostered a blossoming calm, "Then we will continue to sit here and reflect."

You had to wonder if it was painful, if Zandik could feel the strange wounds inflicted on his eternal spirit. It would explain why he was having such difficulties moving on this time, why it had taken long enough that countless other souls had to be brought into the care of others, how could he be expected to forget when a reminder had been carved into him.

"Let me share a glimpse with you," his hesitation at your presence had faded enough that he didn't even scoff at the outstretched hand. A soft thrum hung in the air as an image manifested, the one you used every time, had been instructed to use, not a lie but a stretch. Their mortal body morphing as wings sprouted from their back, skin taking on a glow soft as morning dew, "with patience and understanding, you will shed your constraints and ascend."

"To what, an eternity of servitude here? I may have longed for a different life, but not one with gilded chains."

Despite the reluctance of his voice, a little fledgling doomed to drown as the waters crept closer, his acceptance was inevitable. Just as it had been countless times before. No matter how he refused, the memories he held were far too terrible to cling to, and thus, you watched as his resolved crumbled with every unnecessary breath. The light fading from his shape as the memories were laid to rest, their brightness lighting the tendrils connecting to the sky before eventually dulling.

It was with a peaceful heart that you brought the flickering shape into your embrace, carefully keeping it tethered, before slowly descending. The veins of the world connected and intertwined endlessly, spreading out underneath the earth and capturing everything that was, the life that walked there connecting also to above, to what would be. There was little difference no matter where the souls were returned into the roots, and so your mind led you to the place closest, determined not to relish in the slight warmth that itched along your spine.

"Know that if nothing else, I always look forward to meeting you, Zandik."

You watched with horror as his eyes snapped open, crimson irises bleeding in desperation at the brief pulse of energy that illuminated the night before his body evaporated, soul drawn into the ground. The purest remains of a soul contain no memories, no experiences, and that is what we must return to the ground. With a creeping sense of dread, your wings blotted out the sun during the ascent, unable to focus on neither consequences nor solutions.

The rivers ran red as the newborn child's irises, a moment of silence before his shrill shriek cut through the dawn. How could one who had just entered the world remember both a name and face, one a vicious mockery and the other a warm embrace? He didn't understand, of course he didn't, instead his cries carried long into the starlit night, a solitary constellation and an anxious watcher remaining far above.

[foxcort]

“Tragic, for him to die so young and so . . . bloody.”

written for day 5: shapeshifter of @tamlinweek.💚🌷/ one moonlit, eerie night, two monsters strike a bargain. / (SW)

a/n: this is a little fic based off of an edit i did a while back of a concept of werewolf!tamlin and vampire!nesta but put them in a guy ritchie's sherlock holmes backdrop (or late victorian/early edwardian), because why not.

tw: none.

He caught her in the gardens, looking as innocent as a thorn on a rose, her crimson dress fluttering around her when she whipped around to face him. As soon as he’d seen her slinking away from the overzealous crowd of guests, he’d followed after her, his steps not quite as silent as hers.

“Are the festivities not to your liking, my lady?” Tamlin gestured a ways behind him, where warm light illuminated the high windows of Greenwood Manor and the sounds of merriment rose and fell to the tune of the small orchestra. “I told my emissary a circus would’ve been more lively this year.”

She didn’t titter or blush at his jest, didn’t flush at being found in an odd position. Instead she glanced him once up and down, a slow perusal not unlike a predator sizing up an adversary. Her heels clicked against the stone pavement as she strode closer to him, still a smile absent from her red painted lips.

Lady Nesta Mandray was more formidable in person than he imagined she would be. Recently widowed and thought to be a recluse, he'd sent her an invitation to his annual Spring Equinox ball anyway and was mildly pleased she'd taken the bait and made an appearance.

Even if her state of dress was not what he was expecting.

The gown that adorned her body was still modest in fashion, as all dresses worn by genteel women of high status tended to be, but the vibrant red was a stark contrast to the lilacs and tangerines and yellows swirling around the ballroom right now.

At last, she gave him a smile, though it was too sharp and too fleeting. "I wasn't aware all your guests were to be kept prisoner in that stuffy old ballroom." She threw a dismissive look at the manor behind him and Tamlin found himself growing more fond of her for it. "Am I not allowed anywhere else on the grounds?"

He chuckled softly, head bowing as he closed a few more steps between them, “Forgive me, I've been a horrendous host." Tamlin paused, taking his turn to study her, and understood that perhaps he was the prey. "Would you care for a tour of the grounds, Lady Mandray?” 

“Lady Archeron,” she corrected. “I’m afraid Tomas’ name died along with him.” Her sharp gaze seemed to say good riddance.

He smiled. The first real one he’d permitted to show her. “Would you care for a tour of the grounds, Lady Archeron?” 

She regarded his offered arm with unconcealed hesitance, her silver eyes flicking up to meet his as she spoke her next words slowly, carefully.

“Should I be frightened of you, Lord Greenwood?” 

“No.” He was not the kind of monster he suspected Lord Mandray had been. “Not as I am now.”

She arched a brow, and he could almost see the cogs in her brain turning, trying to piece together what he meant. Not as he was now. Not when the moon was only half-full.

It was a tentative, deliberate action but after a few moments of silence, Nesta relented, her fingers curling lightly over his upper arm. Even through the layers of his expensive coat jacket and shirt, he could feel the unnatural chill of her touch.

Without meaning to, Tamlin shivered at that touch and she gave him another one of her rare smiles. “My apologies.” She sounded anything but, and he swore an undertone of delight colored her voice. “I haven’t seen much sunlight since Tomas’ death.” A hunting accident of sorts, he’d heard, though Tamlin didn’t doubt he had help reaching his end.

He struck an easy pace through the gardens and the vineyard, moonlight illuminating their path. “I would offer my condolences, but it would be a lie to say I’m not pleased you no longer have a husband.”

Nesta laughed, a cold and lovely sound. “If you’re attempting to court me, you’ll have to do a lot better than that.”

“Without a chaperone? I wouldn’t dare besmirch your reputation.”

She waved a hand in the direction of the revelry, her nose crinkling in distaste. “If I cared for a moment what those peacocks and pigeons thought of me, I wouldn’t risk being caught in the shadows with you.”

They were almost upon the winery now, a more modest building in comparison, but still sturdily built. And conveniently vacant.

Tamlin slowed their pace, coming to a halt before the padlocked front door. “Something tells me you accepted my invitation and came all this way to risk something else entirely.” He felt her grip on his arm tighten almost imperceptibly. “Your late husband was quite a paranoid man, last I remember.”

The shift in conversation seemed to ruffle her feathers a little and Nesta gently pulled away from him, her fingers digging into the folds of her dress. “And when do you remember him last?”

“I believe it was right before his death.” He said it matter-of-factly, his eyes tracking her movements with quiet interest. “Tragic, for him to die so young and so . . . bloody.”

She shrugged, and he had the impression that both of their masks were rapidly slipping. “He wasn’t a very smart man.” Nesta began to walk, circling him slowly, her eyes half-lidded yet somehow more aware. “I always did tell him to pick his marks carefully, and he always did aim a little higher than he should have.” The tips of her fingers grazed over her exposed collar bone, where he could faintly make out the remnants of a scar. Puckered but fading. Almost as if there’d once been a bullet wound there. “I wonder, Lord Greenwood,” her eyes sharpened and she stilled in front of him, “do you consider yourself a smart man?”

“Oh, only the smartest,” he admitted calmly, an amused smile curving over his mouth. “Though I prefer you be the judge of that.” With that, he strode to the door and removed the padlock, quickly pocketing the small key afterward. Tamlin swung the door open and tilted his head towards it in invitation.

Nesta threw him a suspicious, narrow-eyed look but otherwise strode into the dimly lit winery without another word. He guided them once more, walking deeper and deeper into the barrel-filled building with complete confidence that they would run into no one. Other than the fact that his guests and staff were too drunk on spirits and levity to be roaming so far from the manor, Tamlin had strict rules imposed on the security of this particular building. The most prominent being that no one was to step foot in the building after dark and the door was to always be locked. The key was either always on his person or given to his emissary, Lucien, on the nights he needed someone to lock him in.

His staff was more than willing to believe the lord of Greenwood Manor had a haughty opinion of his stock, that perhaps he took certain measures because the secret to his winemaking was something he coveted greatly. And Tamlin let them believe as such. For the alternative — the truth — would see him in bedlam.

They finally halted before a set of cells. Two large, cold imprisonments hidden deep in the winery’s basement, the turn almost blocked by yet another high-stacked row of barrels. Understanding dawned on her face when Nesta took in the contents of the cells. Long, sturdy chains hammered into enforced concrete walls, the ends of them finished with shackles too big for anything human.

“Shackles? In a wine cellar?” She stood at the threshold of one of the open cell doors, a hint of amusement glinting at her eyes when she flicked them up to meet his. “Hardly a proper thing to reveal to a lady, your nighttime . . . activities?”

“Ah.” His mouth curved into a slow grin as he leaned against the iron bars, and when he spoke again his voice had gone rough. “But you’re no lady, are you?”

She turned, her smile unbidden now, as if all the pretense of propriety had been lifted. “No. But you’ve known that for some time now.”

“Ever since Tomas confided in me that he believed his wife would kill him, I admit, I’ve been suspiciously curious.” Nesta’s smile faltered, but he continued on. “He thought my connections with the Yard would be enough to condemn you to a madhouse. I, of course, refused him any help.”

“How chivalrous of you,” she drawled, “Unfortunately, I have no need of a white knight.”

“Good,” he smiled, letting a bit of the contained ferality peek through his expression. “I would hate to disappoint you.”

“Then tell me, Lord Greenwood—” Nesta paused, stepping closer to him, a serious and impatient tone settling over her features, “Why do any of this? What do you want with me?”

“I have a . . . proposition, of sorts.”

“Go on.”

He laughed nervously, taking a moment to admire her straightforward demand, before asking, “Will you marry me, Lady Archeron?”

Those silver eyes narrowed again, and she gave a lazy perusal of him once more, only this time he had the feeling she was sizing him up for entirely different reasons. “Are you so eager to meet an end similar to Tomas?”

He pushed away from the bars to move closer to her, that gruff undertone returning to his speech. “If it were by your hands, I would die a happy man.”

Her eyes widened a fraction and he saw a faint flush of color rise over her cheeks. Before she could indeed make the decision to gut him right then and there, Tamlin said, “I believe a marriage would be beneficial to us both. To the secrets we want to hide and the habits we cannot break.”

Nesta regarded him quietly for a long moment, and he imagined she could see the advantages of his proposal. Of sharing the burdens of their secrets with one another. Of hiding the suspicions that would start to rise for the both of them as the years went on.

Finally, she tipped her chin and gave him another sharp, little smile. “I accept, Lord Greenwood.” Tamlin felt his heart jump at her words, a reaction he hadn’t anticipated when he’d set out to strike a bargain with Nesta Archeron. “Although I wouldn’t entirely rule out the possibility of mariticide, if I were you.”

“If you do decide to murder me, promise me you’ll keep my name.” He offered her his arm again, with the intention of leading them out of the winery to resume their stroll under the moonlight, his smile wider than he could constrain.

“A possessive man? How disappointing.”

“I don’t mean to own you, my lady. I mean to haunt you.”

Nesta laughed as she looped her arm around his, more at-ease now as she followed him back through empty building and out into the night. “I think it wouldn’t be too difficult to keep that promise.”

a/n: once again a super specific little piece that was meant to be posted a lot sooner 😀 but i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you guys enjoy it too!

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // forty-three

| @amuhav

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KYRIE: Elion? KYRIE: My hero. Fast asleep on the clock. ELION: And look, you’re stood there without a scratch. This job is so easy I can do it with my eyes closed. TAYUIN: You should take it more seriously. If he’s hurt, it’s on you. ELION: Fiery little faerie, aren’t you? Are you going to start barking if I get too close? KYRIE: Knock it off. ELION: I’ll assume your sour moods means this was a fully clothed outing? How unfortunate for me. Next time I tell you to loosen up, do take it literally. KYRIE: scoffs We’re going back now. ELION: Sure, sure. Lead the way, Oh Moonlit One. KYRIE: Thank you for coming out with me, and for… the other thing. TAYUIN: It was no trouble. KYRIE: There’s still time before the next trial, if you want to talk about… anything… well, you know where to find me. TAYUIN: It was nice. KYRIE: What? TAYUIN: It was a nice day, before, well, you know… But, for what it’s worth, I enjoyed the time away. KYRIE: I’m really glad. ELION: I’ve never found conservative types like you interesting. So very measured and polite about everything. If you love the little winged beastie, you should say so loudly and with great vigor. KYRIE: I’m not in love with Tayuin. ELION: Are you very sure about that? KYRIE: Why do you care so much, anyways? ELION: I don’t. Just casually reminding you yet again that this could all be over tomorrow. KYRIE: What do you mean? ELION: You’re being hunted, remember? Or have you already forgotten why I’m here? I expect you’ve come to realize the significance of it. Instead of sending your pets to do your dirty work, you could try simply asking. KYRIE: You… know Tay stole the ransom letter. ELION: Of course I know. Your High Priestess might not be privy to your scheming, but that’s because it’s my job. And frankly, I’m getting exhausted giving out all these opportunities for you to be honest with me. KYRIE: Not only are you highly observant, you’re also annoyingly intuitive. ELION: An elf of many talents, if you will. KYRIE: Then, enough about my honesty. How about you be a little more forthcoming? What do you know of the Knights of Dawn? ELION: I know they’re a disgruntled bunch of agitators that have become a particularly obtuse thorn in the church’s side as of late. KYRIE: Who are they? ELION: No one knows. All members of this group keep their true identities strictly confidential. They work as an anonymous, but highly organized unit. Their abduction of your sister was likely months in the making. And considering just how well-guarded you lunar priests are, it’s almost certain they’re working off of inside information. KYRIE: They’ve infiltrated the clergy? ELION: Mm, without a doubt. It’s rather problematic, if I’m honest. Spreading panic is only a fraction of the problem; The more people who know about the plot, the more risky it becomes when any and everyone is a possible suspect. KYRIE: Then, it’s no wonder they called in an anori. Your rank alone acts as deterrent. ELION: And you’re very lucky I’m here, but do I get a single thank you? I’m underappreciated! (sob sob) KYRIE: Then, this was their scheme all along. Wait for an opening to take one of us, and use them as a bartering chip. ELION: Yes, but you two have the unfortunate advantage of being twins. For their plan to work, they have to take the spare off the table. KYRIE: And if the church doesn’t agree to their terms? ELION: It’s a small mercy they’re offering with the ransom. The High Priestess knows this well. It is more than sure your sister will not survive this, all she can do is be certain that you do.