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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Note

The undatables as uncles need more love, so... What if L!MC and the rest of the children just go to the castle or purgatory Hall for a few days because the Bros got tired or just need a day of rest. Idk this makes no sense

Yes, more uncle shennaniganery!

A Day at the Demon Lord’s Castle

Masterlist

It was Demon-Flu season, and no demon in the House of Lamentation was spared from its sniffly wrath. It started with Belphegor waking up and sneezing right next to Beel, and it was all downhill from there.

Notice how I said “demon”, the dear little Half-Demons were all fine thanks to the efforts of M!MC who for some reason had bought a bunch of plague doctor masks the week prior.

“Why... why did you buy these?” L!MC asked, their voice muffled by the badly fitting mask.

“I saw em’ in a store window and I decided I wanted them.”

Three out of four of the Brat Brigade (plus the cat) were on their way to the Demon Lord’s castle to stay until the house’s little epidemic passed. Lord Diavolo had oh so graciously asked (begged) to be allowed to host the kids for a while.

What could go wrong?

Many things could go wrong.

For one, the first thing A!MC saw when they first arrived, was a rat. Not one of the gross scary ones, but one of the absolutely adorable ones that turns you into the ‘gently holds’ meme.

“I’m going to call you Templeton!” “*squeak*” “Yay!”

Barbatos of course came to greet the guests, and explained that they have a little... issue with rats at that moment. Butler-dad assured them it wouldn’t be a problem, just if the children saw any of the vermin running around to tell him and he’d dispose of them.

Templeton the rat was promptly hidden in one of A!MC’s pockets.

The Purgatory Hall crew was there as well, apparently Solomon decided to make brunch and Purgatory Hall’s kitchen exploded.

Lord Diavolo finally makes his entrance and declares that everyone should unpack and relax, his gorgeous/terrifying castle was their gorgeous/terrifying castle.

“So,” L!MC rested their head on their hand and rotated the knight in their free hand as they stared half vacantly at the chess board. “Did you take care of the snake in the labyrinth, Dia?”

Diavolo lit up when he heard his seldom used nickname. “Well, Henry 1.0 isn’t exactly bothering anyone down there at the moment, and I don’t think Levi is equipped to deal with a fifty foot long untamed snake.”

L!MC smirked and placed their knight down. “Yeah, at least not right now.”

The moment L!MC removed their hand from the knight, Diavolo moved his bishop and took their queen. Shit.

“Aw man...” L!MC mumbled, after a cursory look at the board, the poor thing realized that they had been screwed for the last five turns and Diavolo was just prolonging the match.

“Don’t feel too bad, L!MC.” Diavolo gave them a pat on the head. “Lucifer can’t beat me in chess either.”

“Hmph.” They wouldn’t admit it but... that did make them feel a little better.

“That reminds me, I have a favour to ask of you.” L!MC almost outwardly drooped at the mention of... ugh... a task. “Do you mind reviewing some dad-jokes with me to make sure they are suitably dad-like?”

“...what?” Quickly remembering they were in the presence of honest to God (poor choice of words... uh... Grandfather?) royalty, L!MC straightened their posture and tried their best to look respectfully curious instead of completely and utterly confused. “Pardon?”

“M!MC and several others have said I have ‘dad vibes’, so I’m leaning into it!” Diavolo smiled so brightly if L!MC hadn’t been the child of the Morning Star they may have been blinded. “My father wasn’t one for jokes, so I’d like to run these by you before I say them to others.”

Suppressing a snort of laughter, L!MC nodded. “Go for it, I’m all ears.”

Diavolo pulled out quite the long list and began to read out loud... L!MC quickly realized that this may take longer than expected. “Okay, to begin: I’m afraid for the calendar, it’s days are numbered.”

“Oh not-that-good-Lord...” L!MC muttered under their breath.

The dad jokes continued, some were funny, some were absolutely awful, some sounded like they were made for children in the Victorian era... overall, it was a good- holy shit that took over two hours...

“Finally,” Diavolo squinted at the last joke. “I went to the liquor store and they asked for my ID, while I fumbled for my wallet, my Blockbuster card fell out, the cashier said ‘nevermind’.”

L!MC furrowed their brows. “What’s a Blockbuster?”

“That was what I was hoping you’d explain to me... is it a dad requirement to get a card for that establishment..?”

“Mmmm...” L!MC pursed their lips. “Probably not. I mean, Lucifer doesn’t have one.”

“That’s true...” Diavolo looked at the clock, then stood up and began to shoo L!MC out the door. “Look at me, taking up all your time that you should be spending with your friends. Thank you for your help, L!MC, now don’t let me keep you any longer!”

Giggling slightly, L!MC shot a wave over their shoulder as they left the room. “Bye dad! See you later!”

They were half way down the hallway when they realized their verbal slip-up.

“Oh.” L!MC’s face burned with embarrassment. “Shit.”

Dad-volo was totally delighted and very cool about it, don’t worry.

M!MC and Bean the cat were hanging out with the angels in the very pretty royal gardens when that mess was going down.

Luke was being absolutely adorable and was snuggling Bean while he and Simeon looked at the pretty plants.

In traditional M!MC fashion, they were engaging in an average game of ‘lightly tease the chihuahua’.

“It’s just... you’re so small.” M!MC took the opportunity to rest their arm on Luke’s head as he stopped to observe a colour changing flower bush. “How many years have you been this height? 100? 200?”

M!MC had taken the news that Luke was older than them in stride, finding new opportunities to make the little angel do his adorable angy face. They were obviously succeeding in their jerkwad-endeavours as Luke pushed their arm off and fixed his now smushed hat.

“You be quiet! I’m perfectly average height for an angel my age.” Luke huffed, petting the cat, who hissed at M!MC. The stupid cat absolutely hated them for some reason, it brought L!MC never ending joy to bring the cat into their shared room and watch it hiss and swipe at them. L!MC should really show some more respect for their older cousin!

“Are angels normally the size of a fifth grader?” M!MC snickered. “Is Simeon considered a freak for his height?”

“No, M!MC, I am not.” Simeon chuckled. “Rest assured, Luke will grow.”

“Yeah! And I’m sure I’ll be taller than you!” Luke added.

M!MC smirked deviously and pinched Luke’s cheek. “Well, I’ll have to take advantage of your smallness and baby face while I still can!”

“Hey! Stop that!” Luke tried to swat their hands away, but M!MC had inherited their father’s reflexes and his penchant for being a little shit every once and a while, so Luke’s swatting only resulted in more pinches.

“Never!” M!MC teased. “Surrender to your smallness!”

“No!”

Luke took off deeper into the garden, surprisingly quickly considering he was holding a cat that was hellbent on clawing M!MC’s eyes out. M!MC laughed and gave chase.

“Luuuuuuuke! Come back! I promise I’ll be nice!” M!MC lied right through their teeth like the little heathen they were, as they ran down the path they noticed that they couldn’t see Luke up ahead anymore, nor could they hear him yelling for Simeon to make them quit their teasing.

“Heheh...” M!MC wheezed as they stopped to catch their breath. “Luke c’mon, don’t be a baby. It’s real immature to hide like that!”

There was no response, which made M!MC just a little nervous, just a smidge. The plants had changed from pretty flowers and gorgeous trees to a much darker clump of vines and twisting branches. It all seemed to be the same plant, M!MC noted as they scanned the area for any sign of Luke and the cat, or Simeon for that matter.

“Luke? Bean? Come on! Haul your asses over here, this isn’t funny any-” M!MC paused and looked down as something coiled around their left leg. “-more?”

The vine tightened and yanked them backwards, M!MC fell right to the ground and clawed at the path to stop them getting pulled into the brush. Another vine wrapped around their right leg, any resistance that digging their nails into the ground was nullified as both vines yanked M!MC into the bushes.

Well, this was a nightmare of epic proportions. The vines continued to wrap around the helpless half demon until they were completely unable to move. As M!MC looked around frantically, they made eye contact with an all too familiar pair of blue eyes. Ah! There was Luke!

“Mmmph!” Only Luke’s eyes were visible, but the eyes are the gateway to the soul or whatever, and M!MC took an educated guess and decided that Luke’s soul wasn’t too happy with them.

“Mmth! Mmth!” M!MC tried to speak, but their mouth was covered by the vines. The two would have to communicate with their eyes only.

‘This is your fault!’

‘How the fuck is this MY fault?’

‘If you hadn’t teased me this never would have happened!’

‘Grow thicker skin, you chihuahua!’

‘Fuck you!’

Listen, Luke probably wasn’t capable of trying to communicate a swear word, but it was incredibly funny for M!MC to think about.

“M!MC? Luke?” Simeon stepped into their limited field of vision. “Where are you two? This plant is carnivorous.”

Oh... lovely. That was good to know.

“Mmemph!”

“MFTH!” Luke and M!MC tried to call out to Simeon, only for the vines to wrap around them even tighter. Wow, what a way to go... strangled by a plant... ugh. L!MC would never let them live that down...

“Hm,” Simeon looked down at the vine that was coiling around his leg. “What a bother.”

Quick as lightning, Simeon grabbed the vine and sent a burst of shining gold magic shooting through it. The magic quickly spread to the rest of the plant and the moment the magic slammed into M!MC they nearly passed out from the searing pain that shot through their entire body.

They clamped their eyes shut and clenched their teeth to stop them from rattling as they felt the massive wave of Celestial magic wash over them. It was weirdly warm, like a hug from a friend, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation, at least not to M!MC.

The plant let out an otherworldly scream as it threw Luke, Bean, and M!MC back onto the path at Simeon’s feet.

Luke picked Bean back up and dusted off his clothes like he didn’t have a care in the world. M!MC lay on the ground, if you listened closely you could hear them sizzle a bit. Nothing like being nearly strangled by a plant and then roasted by holy ‘fuck you’ magic.

“I’m glad you’re both okay,” Simeon pulled Luke into a hug and helped M!MC off the ground. “Did I ah... use to much magic?”

M!MC half-scowled at their saviour and wiped down their outfit. “Yeah. A little too much.”

“My bad,” Simeon ruffled M!MC’s hair. “I hope this serves as a learning experience for you two, Luke, don’t run off like that, and M!MC,”

The half demon nearly jumped in fear and surprise as Simeon swivelled to look at them. The smile on his face was far from comforting. “Don’t tease poor Luke too much, okay?”

“Uh... uh huh.” M!MC quickly nodded.

“Good! Now let’s head back, I think we’ve all had enough of the Royal Gardens.”

As the group returned, they passed a very red in the face L!MC and wondered what exactly went down in the time they were gone.

It’s common knowledge that Barbatos hates rats, it’s also common knowledge that A!MC is the embodiment of a ray of sunshine.

What does this lead to, you may be asking, well...

A!MC and their dear rat Templeton needed to hide from the politely homicidal Barbatos.

“Sh!” A!MC whispered into their pocket, the rat responded with an indignant squeak.

The Demon Lord’s Castle was absolutely massive, and trying to navigate it without a map was akin to wandering around an ancient pyramid filled with death traps. A!MC and their dear companion were wandering the place without a map and trying to hide from a butler that had the power to see into the future. The two fugitives were at a clear disadvantage.

A!MC had managed to stumble into an area that had paintings and statues completely everywhere, it was then they realized they were completely lost.

While quietly perusing the room, A!MC took notice of quite the lovely portrait of a woman. She had long flowing locks of golden hair and the most gorgeous captivating eyes... A!MC nearly shrieked when the woman’s eyes snapped to their’s and her face contorted into a scowl.

“Do I know you?” The woman asked, A!MC gulped and shook their head.

“N-no ma’am, I don’t think we’ve met...” A!MC mumbled before sticking out their hand for a handshake. The painting woman stared down at their outstretched hand, very unimpressed. “I’m A!MC, it’s nice to meet you.”

The half demon offered their cutest smile, their dad had lovingly taken the time to coach them in the art of being so darn tootin’ adorable that everyone would fall over themselves to get A!MC to like them. The moment the woman registered the smile, her scowl returned for a brief moment, then vanished entirely.

“Oh,” The woman smiled sweetly. “I do think I know you, do you mind coming a bit closer so I can see you better?”

Suffering from a complete inability to detect red flags, A!MC happily moved closer.

“Ah, just as I suspected. You look like Asmodeus.”

“You know my dad?” A!MC asked.

“Yes,” The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I know him quite well.”

A!MC was suddenly knocked off balance as a massive gust of wind shoved them closer to the painting. They frantically clawed at the stone ground as Templeton squeaked and squirmed in their pocket.

“Your father is the reason I’m stuck in this painting,” The woman explained coldly as A!MC tried to scramble away. “He escaped the labyrinth twice, but I don’t plan on letting you escape.”

“I-uh- m-muh-my dad’s probably really sorry about whatever he did! There’s no need to be rash!” A!MC stuttered.

“Yeah, no.” The woman huffed. “He had his chance to fix things. I’m getting even.”

“Not right now you’re not.”

A!MC swivelled their head around to see Barbatos calmly holding out a pair of scissors.

“Now Helene, I’d recommend releasing the child before I’m forced to take drastic measures.” Barbatos clicked the scissors together twice, and Helene paled. The wind pushing A!MC towards the painting dissipated and the half demon ran and hid behind the butler.

“Th-thank you...” A!MC mumbled.

“It’s not a problem, A!MC. Now I believe it would be a wise choice to move to another room.”

The two, (plus the hidden rat) ended up in the kitchen. A!MC shifted nervously as Barbatos began prepping lunch.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” Barbatos asked suddenly, A!MC straightened their posture and nodded.

“I um... promise you won’t be mad...” A!MC mumbled.

“I can assure you, I won’t be too upset.”

“I made a friend.” A!MC took Templeton out of their pocket and held him closely to their chest, Barbatos’s calm smile froze on his face. “He’s really sweet, please don’t kill him!”

“...A!MC.” Barbatos began slowly. “I’m not mad... just make sure it doesn’t escape and run rampant... now... please get it out of my kitchen.”

“Yes sir! Thank you sir!” A!MC turned and sprinted to their room.

Ugh... Barbatos, haven’t you ever watched Ratatouille? The rat can cook dammit!

When Luke went in to bake with his second dad he was very confused as to why Barbatos looked like he was having war flashbacks.

Huh... weird right? Anyway...

Good ol’ weird uncle Solomon suggested that after dinner everyone should get together and watch a movie.

L!MC and Solomon suggested that they watch The Conjuring and that idea got immediately shot down.

M!MC brought up that the most “family get-together” movie they could think of was Star Wars.

So they watched A New Hope.

“We could be watching the Conjuring right now.” L!MC murmured as they watched Luke Skywalker fumble his way to Obi Wan Kenobi.

“Yeah.” Solomon whispered back. “You know, I met Ed and Lorraine Warren.”

“Cool,” L!MC smiled. “My ren took me to their house once, when I went in to see all the haunted objects all the demons inside wanted to hang out with me.”

“Huh,” Solomon snickered. “Did they think you were Lucifer?”

“Yep. It was funny, Annabelle’s a pretty big asshole though.”

“I’d be an asshole too if I were stuck in a raggedy Anne doll since the 60s and not allowed to leave.”

“Both of you sh!” M!MC hissed, they threw some popcorn over their shoulder, which L!MC threw right back.

A while into the movie, M!MC elbowed Solomon and pointed at one of the aliens. “That’s you.”

“I’m so hurt…” Solomon pouted.

“And that’s you.” L!MC pointed at a stormtrooper that had just gotten shot with a blaster. M!MC scoffed and rolled their eyes.

“I’m not some dumb stormtrooper.”

“Yeah, you’re a little short for a stormtrooper.”

“HEY!”

“SHHHHHHH!” A!MC and Luke turned and started throwing their own popcorn…

The mess that they all had to vacuum after the movie was much more terrifying than The Conjuring ever could have been.

So, after a few days, Lucifer called to say that everyone was back to normal and the last remnants of the Demon-Flu were gone.

Yay! The kids could go back to their really overcrowded house!

The goodbyes were something to behold.

“Goodbye everyone! Come back sometime soon!” Diavolo waved from the doorway.

“Bye, Lord Diavolo!” L!MC smiled brightly and returned the wave. M!MC snickered and nudged them.

“That’s a pretty cold way to say goodbye to your dad-”

“Shut up…” L!MC growled.

“L!MC, what are they talking about?” Lucifer asked.

“Nothing!”

M!MC looked like they were weighing the pros and cons of surviving the conversation, then shrugged.

“M!MC, no, you have so much to live for!” A!MC pleaded.

“L!MC called Lord Diavolo dad!”

Mammon erupted into hysterical laughter while Asmo giggled and half heartedly patted L!MC on the head. Lucifer was not impressed.

“You know,” L!MC sighed. “I’m moving out. Lord Diavolo can I come live here?”

“L!MC, come back.” Lucifer trailed after his very embarrassed spawn.

A!MC pulled on their dad’s sleeve and cleared their throat.

“Yes sweetie?”

“D-dad, do you have a vehement hatred and or fear of rats?”

“Um-”

“Meet Templeton, he’s adorable and my friend.”

————————

Author’s note, The next part of the main series is coming next week… or this week… idk how long things take.

(Probably this week)

#the next mission is making sure the rat doesn’t get eaten by Detective Toe Beans…#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Fic #obey me shall we date #Obey me! headcanons #obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Diavolo #Obey me Luke #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Solomon #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Asmodeus

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melanated-maddy · 3 years

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TYTON

Hey welcome to this fan fiction. I recently finished war storm and I’m in love with Tyton. Couldn’t help but want to right a fic after seeing so little on this guy on tumblr. Don’t know if I’ll write more as got exams but if you like let me know! All characters and world and everything belongs to the queen herself Victoria Aveyard

Chapter 1

“Debark, debark, debark.”

Tyton was snapped out of his musings pale fingers still gripped against the fading cover of his book. They’d finally arrived back in Ascendant after another long plane journey. A year after the kingdom of Norta was officially dissolved with Cal’s abdication there was still unrest with the Silvers. Too many houses had attempted to feel comfortable on the sparkling throne. ‘Osanos says water comes after fire, Rhambos is taking strength and power a little too literally and Merandus is trying hard to distance themselves from the insanity their own brought forth in Maven and actually claim the throne. At least there’s no more Samos worries. That ship sailed or should I say smashed along with Volo’s head with his offspring are safely tucked away in the capital.’ The soldiers on the plane had started their move off some in a rush to get home to worried families and others ready to have a drink. Davidson was the closet family Tyton had after his own lost their lives to a raid. His mother, father and two younger brothers all gone in an instant. That instance was the first time Tyton’s ability was able to properly manifest. Properly surge. Properly show how dangerous he was. It was Davidson who found him when searching the wrecks of homes and families. Still holding his brother’s Aeon’s hand tears in his eyes. Davidson was always quiet even back in those days and knelt to Tyton’s small height hugging him close. After that day Davidson properly set about burying the family well allowing Tyton to grieve and giving him another place to call home. He’d never admit it, but Tyton was lucky...relieved that Davidson and Carmadon took him in. Even if those raiders who had taken his family from him deserved his rage, he was terrified of the lightning under his skin. With a huff, Tyton uncoiled his long body from his seat standing and stretching up to remind his muscles of their function. The suit he wore was dark not one of the traditional Montfort green it just would not do for some missions. Under his seat he pulled free the small bag carrying a bottle of water, bag of nuts and stored the book into it securely. It was the last thing he’d received from his parents and even so he still struggled to get through it properly. As Tyton turned to move out the aircraft door onto the tarmac he spotted Mare struggling to reach an overhead compartment to grab something. He quickly moved forward and grabbed hold of two items: a maroon scarf and backpack.

“Thanks.”

“No worries I’m always available to help the vertically challenged.”

Mare’s face turned into a vivid shade of crimson and she moved as if ready to punch his arm when Cal swung his head back into the cabin. He seemed exasperated which quickly shifted to a swift glare as his eyes settled on how close the two were.

“Tyton.”

“Cal.”

“Mare what's taking so long?”

“Difficulties getting the scarf and backpack you decided to thrust into the overhead bin. As well as being ready to obliterate string bean here.”

Tyton gave a chuckle, although he was slightly leaner than Cal a string bean he was not.

“Don’t worry just helping her out she’s still yours, your highness.”

Cal bristled with the label, but Tyton was already strolling out onto the blinding tarmac doused in bright light.

As he got his bearings about himself, Tyton could not help feeling the pulses of electricity going off in every person around hims body. Just as you could imagine different emotions and thoughts had different electric compositions. As people moved around he recognised stress signals, pulses of joy and shifts of concentration. The signals never went away but with time he’d found away to keep them working in tandem with him so he didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Tyton come on rides here.” Rafe called his hair in the sun giving the appearance of green flames.

Tyton walked to the transport, long legs eating up the distance in a few moments to be face to face with Rafe. Ella must’ve caught a different one as the storm addict’s blue hair was no where to be seen. Together the two walked towards Davidson who was speaking to Arezzo in hushed tones. With a nod she was dismissed walking instead of jumping to wherever she needed to go. Davidson turned to the two a smooth smile on his face and opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a quick trill.

“Rafe!”

A blur of orange smashed into Rafe’s chest holding him tightly as he clutched her back.

Laughing Rafe greeted her, “Iz, nice to see you too, but you’re crushing me.”

With one last tug, Izelle released her older brother a wide grin tugging on her lips as she looked up at him. Izelle, was Rafe’s little sister by a year who shared his dark brown skin smooth and even and bright smile. In her orange dress that spun around her knees and black combat boots, she giggled letting her hair of tight curls circling her head move slightly held back with an orange band.

“Is it wrong for me to have missed my dumb big brother? Am I wrong Tyton?”

Tyton smiled and shook his head as Rafe glared at him.

“So nice to know that it won’t be a strongarm that gets me but my sister’s choke hold.”

Iz shoved Rafe as he rolled his eyes and moved to put his bags in the transport while Iz turned to greet Tyton.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

And with that Tyton opened his arms and Izelle moved into them giving him a tight hug.

‘Her hugs are always great.’

“Thanks for looking out for Rafe. I’m one hundred percent sure he’s not dead somewhere because of you.”

A deep rumble erupted from Tyton as he shook his head. They walked to the transport as Tyton asked how she’d been.

“All good here finally ready to move onto the fourth arc only two more to go before I’m a qualified teacher of education.”

“That’s excellent. You’ve worked hard for it.”

“Yeah it’s been so long definitely the hardest thing I’ve faced, but it’ll be so worth it once I’m in a class with little guys.”

“Do you know what specialism you’ll take yet Izzy?”

In Montfort, classes were not segregated at all with children of all blood types getting the same education to the best standard they could. Those who were Ardent or Silver has supplementary classes to help in coming into their abilities. However, it was courtesy for teachers at normal school to specialise in understanding one blood type well so that support chains could be used in school for any student struggling.

“I’m not sure yet to be honest. I’ve still got to think, might swing for Ardent or Red they’ve already got lots of silver specialists.”

Tyton liked listening to Izzy speak. Her mind although more hyperactive than most was one he enjoyed feeling the thrum of. She would be an excellent teacher one who was fun and silly, but able to understand and be serious when needed. For all her loudness Rafe often called her the thunder to his lightning. As Izzy spoke she tended to often get enthralled by her words and lost her bearings of where she was. So much so she didn’t see a smaller transport squealing into her path. In seconds Tyron had pulled her back allowing the small buggy to rush past on its was.

“Izzy.”

“Ha sorry about that. Forgive me.”

And with a smile, all was forgiven.

“Come on Rafe is definitely going to start a mood if we don’t hurry up,” and with that she pulled his arm to the transport releasing him to clamber up and take a seat next to Rafe. For all the bickering and teasing they did the two siblings loved each other dearly. They had sought refuge in Montfort from the Piedmont principalities with their mother. The two remembered little about their original home as they had left so young, but the happiness Montfort gave them was all they needed. Forgetting all about her conversation with Tyton, Izzy poked Rafe to tell her all about Norta and what things they’d encountered. Izzy had never left Montfort. She was definitely not a soldier, barely remembering to tuck in her thumbs properly when punching Rafe and the Ardent abilities had only passed to him so a useful electricon on the battlefield she was not. The ride to Ascendant was bumpy, Davidson muttering about looking into the concrete and upkeep of the infrastructure when back home. The air rushed in as they sped across the landscapes moving closer to the capital with every second until the transport stopped in a quick halt. The stop was so fast Izzy almost span out of her seat if not for Rafe and Tyton’s arms coming to forth to stop her fall.

“What’s going-“

Davidson was cut off when a terrible crunch sounded off. Leaning forward, he could see one of the transports being crushed the metal casings crumbling against each other. Without a thought Davidson threw out a shield glowing blue in the setting sun surrounding the two vehicles.

“Raiders already?” Rafe hit his head against the seat in frustration before moving out of the car to help passengers in the afflicted vehicle. Tyton quickly went about feeling how many Raiders were out there without being told.

“10, all seems to be magnetron. 3 females, 7 males. Wait they’re leaving?”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah moving away.”

Davidson heaved a sigh, “Radio in for some teleporters for the wounded.”

“They’re already here.” Tyton looked out seeing that those badly injured were being jumped back. Being so close to Ascendant meant the teleporters could make the jump.

“Alright then, destroy that transport don’t leave anything of use behind for them.”

With that, Tyton moved to the transport now empty and absentmindedly called forth a storm preparing for a powerful bolt. The skies darkened as his storm came into existence. Davidson let the shield down for a moment to let the bolt come through. In a fraction of a second, a burning bolt of lighting came down from the sky smashing against the transport reducing it to dust and scorched earth. The air singed with crackle as the fire wreck obliterated. Tyton surveyed the scene inspecting the damage to see if it was at a high enough level to not be useful to a magnetron. Being happy with it he turned and started to walk back to Davidson and Izzy, Rafe already sitting in his seat. He was laughing at Izzy as she covered her ears wincing at the terrible sound of the lightning on metal. It was a sound not comfortable for most ears, but Tyton’s power was unheard of in an Ardent. He was different to the other electricons being able to handle electricity more naturally than even them. It didn’t take much for him to call a storm bolt of that magnitude. As he was within a few metres of the transport he suddenly felt a barrage of electrical energy moving towards them. Recognising it as the previous magnetrons he turned to quickly release brain lightning on them being able to drop 4 of them before one let off a spike. Moving out of the way he could do, but the spike still got him in the side forcing him to the ground. Davidson’s shields again went up and Tyton was pulled into the transport as it began to drive away with Davidson’s shields still up. Izzy clambered towards him pulling apart his suit to get a better look at the cut. Her hand pressed down hard as she told Rafe to get the medical kit under the seat. Tyton grasped onto her had holding it down as he grimaced from the pain. “You’re fine it’s only a scratch.” Izzy nervously laughed.

“Of course because scratches produce this much blood.”

“Shut up big baby. I’ve met toddlers tougher than you,” she grinned and Tyton smiled back focusing on her electricity and letting it calm him down in the transport racing back to Ascendant.

#red queen #tyton jesper #rafe #mare barrow #cal calore #montfort #silver #war storm #fanfiction #electricon #black girl #oc

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caritobbg · 4 years

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Secret Love Song (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

"Next time I'll let you get me ready for a date" said Penelope jumping from happiness "let's get to work sweeties! The time is approaching and Joey will come in at any moment to kick us out of here " "Ok ... I guess I'll have to close my eyes, right?" "I'm sorry to say yes, you can't see until we finish enlisting, again" Emily always had an emergency plan ready for these cases "I can only say that this is true to your style"

"AND…. ready!!!" adding a beautiful necklace from your favorite series "Can I see myself already?" "Yes, darling" said Penelope "turn it around and open your eyes"

When she looked in the mirror she was speechless, Emily hit the mark! She was not one of her best friends for nothing since she joined the team.

"I ... Em ... I ..." surprised; it looked amazing! "It's time! Go to your places "said Joey entering with Rossi "Go see you in half an hour!" (Y / N) said with a giant smile as they waved her off and wished her luck "You look beautiful little one!" said that person who she considered her father "I wish Reid were here, I would have no words to describe you" laughing "Yes ..." with a muffled voice and looking at her feet "but there is someone else in her heart ..." "Don't be so sure" sitting next to her "what did she tell you?" “That he was in love with a friend who since the day he met her cannot get her out of his head. I know it's not me ... " "Come here" hugging her "how is it that you are so sure what not ..." “David, I am not the girl of your dreams. I'm shy, clumsy, distracted, I hate going out to nightclubs… ” "Hey! Don't even think about saying that again !!! " Rossi said making her look at him “of all the girls he's dated, they all considered him a weirdo, they never made it past the first date. You are the only one who saw it with other eyes that were not to judge it "he said firmly" I am very sure that you are that girl " “Her name is Kiara” (Y / N) said with a trembling voice “I know they were seeing each other, I know that Spence likes that girl. I know it's not me "

"Come on, it's about time" Joey said again "The fourth person is already finishing singing" “Okay…” as they got up “is Cam there? "Yes, he came in next to us" Rossi put a hand on her shoulder "they told me that one of those is going to make her angry, a lot" "It better all go well ... and yes, the first one is going to make him angry" laughing "he deserves it"

“There he is," Derek said whispering and glancing at Cam as he sat down at one of the tables in the front row. "Remember the plan" meeting with Hotch "we must not approach if there is no suspicious movement" “(Y / N) will be the last. After I finish he will come with us ... " "Surely he will come too, almost a year ago they finished" said Spencer "will try to do something" "And that's when we'll catch him" added Rossi "I'll go talk to Joey, it's already starting," he said by the time the lights dimmed and he began to give a brief introduction of the first person who was going to sing.

Time flew by. Spencer kept thinking about the things that could go right or wrong… she thought about what (Y / N) would sing, dance, and how she would be dressed for the occasion. He had heard Garcia and JJ talk about wanting it to be something “sexy”, to leave everyone who passed by drooling and, of course, he did not like that idea, he felt more nervous than before ...

"Easy kid!" Derek said taking some of his drink "Derek, we are not supposed to drink in the middle of work" whispering and listening to a man in his 50s singing Queen's Love of my Life. “You don't have to suspect us” referring to Cam “also, this is grape juice” "I know you don't have to suspect us" "I know you are afraid, but nothing will go wrong, and do not come with the statistics, on this precise day they do not count" "(Y / N)?" asked on the intracom Hotch seeing that Emily, Penelope and JJ were approaching "Nervous. He's talking to Rossi "JJ replied sitting in their respective places" we already saw our unsub "

The next two people sang love songs again, TOO cloying for Spencer's taste, you could feel the sweetness and love in the air. I was begging (Y / N) to cut with that, it was not something surprising. By the time the fourth person had finished his performance of L’amore si Muove by Il Volo, he knew that her turn was approaching. His nerves took hold of him when he saw Rossi approaching the bar to order a whiskey while he motioned for her to come talk to him.

"What's going on?" once it got closer. "(Y / N) told me that you were dating a certain Kiara" he said without mincing words "is that so?" “Ah… I…” but she couldn't lie “yes… an old friend from college… we went out a couple of times, but I told her that I didn't want anything with her, that my heart was with someone else” "And why didn't you tell her you didn't see her anymore?" "I don't know ... I panicked and it was the only thing I could say" "Do not worry child. Today is your chance to fix things "

“Ladies and gentlemen” said Joey once the applause had stopped “our last participant is a very special client for us, and today she is going to delight us with her beautiful voice… she will sing two incredible songs: one by the famous English band Little Mix, the second, an indistinct song that we will hear for the first time here live and direct. Please give (Y / N) a loud applause !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ” -------------------------------------------------

(Y / N) POV’s I started dancing and singing all over the place, I was nervous but happy to do this, I had to unburden myself of everything that this damn thing did to me in these years of relationship. I was with Cam for four years, in the last one it was that he changed and I decided to cut, I couldn't take it anymore ...

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFDzhKdrN9M)

“This is a shout out to my ex Heard he in love with some other chick Yeah yeah, that hurt me, I'll admit Forget that boy, I'm over it I hope she gettin' better sex Hope she ain't fakin' it like I did, babe Took four long years to call it quits Forget that boy, I'm over it…”

And it was a one way trip !!!! I never felt so free in my life, seeing his angry face was what I wanted to provoke, something easy to capture once and for all! He wouldn't hurt any more girls, he wouldn't do the same thing he did to me anymore. I kept singing with a smile until the moment I least wanted came. I could hear Penelope cheering me on and shouting my name from one of the last tables, I laughed when I saw her together with JJ and Emily screaming and singing, seeing the astonished faces of Dave, Hotch, even Derek !!!! Her jaw almost touched the floor !!!!! But… I was looking for that tall, intelligent, shy boy, my best friend… what am I saying? Best friend? No, it wasn't just that.

"Thank you all!!!! That was fun "while trying to smile" I have to confess that I was never very good with words, less when it came to expressing my deepest feelings ... I realized that when I returned home a few weeks ago ... "sighing I progressed with the first that came to mind “… at that time, I didn't know if love at first sight actually existed, I thought it was a passing thing. It wasn't until something happened that made me realize that it does exist. ", I sat on the stool in front of the keyboard, wondering whether to say his name or not ..." when I found out that that person who made me believe in that started dating one of his best friends, my world fell apart, I could never get to confess how I felt, I never got to tell him that since I met him a few years ago on my first day of work I felt that I was going to be someone special in my life, I could not confess that I loved him. And… if I have to be honest, I am happy that I have found someone who can give you everything that is out of my reach… The song is called Secret Love Song, because I never dared to say any of the things that I saved for myself. I dedicate it to my best friend… ” fuck it! Just say his name !!! "Spencer Reid."

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DUblXdhp1r0)

We keep behind closed doors Every time I see you, I die a little more Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls It'll never be enough As you drive me to my house I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down You and I both have to hide On the outside where I can't be yours and you Can't be mine But I know this We got a love that is homeless

Why can't I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours

It's obvious you're meant for me Every piece of you, it just fits perfectly Every second, every thought, I'm in so deep But I'll never show it on my face But we know this, we got a love that is homeless

Why can't you hold me in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't we be like that? 'Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't we be like that? 'Cause I'm yours

I don't wanna live love this way I don't wanna hide us away I wonder if it ever will change I'm living for that day Someday....

I remembered the moment when he accidentally kissed me once leaving the cinema and arriving at my apartment. He had told me that it had been a mistake, something on impulse, and I was stupid and told him exactly the same thing ... my tears were already trying to spill ...

* "Thanks Spence, I had a lot of fun tonight" I said smiling "I hope that, if there is no case, we can repeat it again" "It's nothing" like me "and I would love to repeat it again" “But…” she looked at me in confusion “next time it will be here at home with an Agatha Christie’s Poirot marathon. I can't believe you've never seen the series !!!!! " seeing how he laughed at my statement "I mean it" "I'll get the popcorn then" her smile ... I felt trapped in her We both fell silent, dangerously close to each other, her lips brushing against mine in a careless moment. "(Y / N) l ... sorry ... I ..." clearing his throat "I shouldn't have done that, it was a ... big mistake by ..." "Don't worry Spence" trying to sound calm "I think ... you should go home, it's getting late and we have to go to work and ..." "I promise to let you know when I arrive" he said in a thread of voice "see you tomorrow" and then run away and leave me alone with my thoughts. *

When you hold me in the street And you kiss me on the dance floor I wish that we could be like that Why can't we be like that 'Cause I'm yours, I'm yours

Oh, why can't you hold me in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't we be like that? 'Cause I'm yours…

I paused a little and, meeting those beautiful caramel eyes, I continued with the last verse while tears fell from mine ...

Why can't we be like that? Wish we could be like that....

Everyone was clapping, but I couldn't stop staring at him. He looked beautiful with that lilac shirt, dark blue jeans, different colored stockings and his black conversations ruined by constant use ... I felt stupid to be in love with someone who doesn't feel the same ...

"Thank you all" I finally said to get out of there.

"YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE" I felt a strong grip on my neck and a cold metal on my head, the more I struggled to release myself, the more force Cameron made; I could see Penelope, Aaron and David taking people out of the place to keep them safe, and Emily, JJ, Derek and Spence pointing at us. Nice way to celebrate Valentine's Day, right?

"CAMERON, LET HER NOW" Derek yelled without lowering the gun "We don't want to hurt you" "Hurt?" he said laughing “how funny, here the only one who hurt me was HER !!! HE ABANDONED ME, LEFT ME IN MISERY !!! " "You hurt me" tried to push him "you mistreated me, you hit me and you cheated" "QUIET!" the gun was going to leave a permanent mark on my head if I kept pressing it "Cam, listen, I know she hurt you ..." Spencer started to say to play along "she left you alone ... I understand that you want revenge, but this doesn't have to end like this"

My mind raced thinking about what I was going to do, I had to get out of her arms unscathed, or try to do it. She wasn't going to let this bastard get away with it. "Love ..." making him look at me "love, I'm sorry .... I'm sorry I left you, I didn't know what I was doing. Without you I am… lost… ”his breathing began to accelerate“ do you remember… that Il Volo song that I like so much? ” humming the song "... my heart paused, hugging nothing, clinging to nothing ... my illusion is blind ... there is no tomorrow ..." I felt his grip loosen and, without saying that any sound came out of my throat, I managed to look at Spencer and say "I'm sorry ..."

After that I felt a stabbing pain and everything went black ...

#Criminal Minds #Aaron Hotchner #Jennifer Jareau #Derek Morgan #David Rossi #Emily Prentiss #Penelope Garcia #Spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n

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elane-in-the-shadows · 5 years

Note

Random sentence starter prompt- “ i’m not good for you , trust me. “ for Ptolewren? :)

A/N: Just took me just 10 weeks to write, but here it is. I hope you - if you’re still here - like it.

Trigger warning for mention of child abuse.

Find this on Wattpad and on AO3

Getting Better

It was the heat that woke him, asmothering, heavy warmth. Both onerous feelings were, Ptolemus realized whenhis eyelids flew open as if his weariness had vanished, not caused by anysunlight. The air was cool, and only few rays made it into the room betweenthick curtains of dark velvet. Choking him were padded duvets of the samematerial that covered him up to his chin.

It’sstill spring, he remembered. This is my suite in Ridge House.

AndI am a prince.

Recently elevated toroyalty, he’d returned to the ancestral home of House Samos, and he hadn’t evennoticed. Or forgotten, likely due to the fever he felt in his skin, along witha terrible itch. Again, he cursed the velvet embroidered with metal pieces thathis ability couldn’t not sense and alert to him. He didn’t want to hear theirthuds in his head, programmed to examine any material until he knew which metalsit contained, how much there was, and how to wield it. He didn’t. He wished hewas free of his ability for once, for an hour, when he was in such a poor stateand just the thought of controlling the metals made him wince.

He forced himself tomove despite his soreness all over, and tried to shove off the duvets, teethgrinding as his hands –

Hands

“Hey,” a voicemuttered. He couldn’t see her behind the bedpost at first, before Wren Skonosrose and turned toward him to slow him down. Mostly urging him to “be careful!”with his right hand.

Their eyes met for amoment. Wren’s concerned gaze calmed him, although his head still beat toofast. How could he have forgotten? He’d lost a hand in the battle at thewedding. He’d felt the absence and the pain. The injury was the reason why hisbody was weak and his mind not sharp and he’d known that deep down.

But this hand …

Wren took it, this new… thing, in hers. “I numbed its nerves for now,” she said. “For the most part.You’ll need to reassess it, though, to … recalibrate.”

A light flush glowedcoldly on her dark cheeks. Recalibrate indeed. As if he was a machine that hadto function, and his hand was a motor in repair. It looked as strange as one.Oddly soft and raw, with a strong grey tint like from heat or a hit. He couldimagine the pain throbbing in it he had to thank Wren for not feeling.

Wren’s lips twitchedlike she was restraining herself from biting them. She always hid her distressso well. Everyone he knew did, because all of them felt great distress. But itwas somewhat different for Wren, a young skin healer who saw and saved the mostpowerful people of Norta at their worst. Her patients would want neither pitynor worry, but whether they wished for Wren to be talkative and comforting orquiet and unnoticeable, she had to find out.

Whatdo I wish her to be for me?

“I’d recommend to moveyour fingers,” Wren said eventually. “Do you consent?”

He blinked at her and asshe stared back, he realized he still hadn’t said anything to her. You’re getting as taciturn as your father, Tolly,he thought with dread. He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he groaned.

Wren nodded, her greyeyes lingering on him before she focused on his hand. “I’ll move the fingersand you tell me if you feel it. Then I’ll lessen the numbness piece by piece.”

“Yes,” he repeated. Andthen winced and soughed as Wren started the examination. Pain radiated throughhis new limb. Not for Wren being careless, but because the pain was inevitable whenhe needed to heal, get used to and train the new hand.

That was something hewas definitely used to; he’d done so from birth. A Samos was strong, and to remainstrong, you suffered and withstood. Only that his father would never call it “suffering”– to not admit such feelings was a part of their creed so essential it didn’tneed saying. Eve certainly never said so. She was stronger than him, smarterthan him, more inscrutable than him. And their father even went so far, he didn’texpress any emotions at all, nor said very much in general, while you were stillexpected to understand and obey.

It was odd that, when Ptolemushad mocked this discrepancy as a child, he’d been beaten until he shut up; butwhen he talked back now, he didn’t earn any response which probably qualifiedas a praise on Volo Samos’s terms.

Asif obstinacy and contradiction are valuable only after you learned to obey.

By now, they’d switched from Wrenmoving his fingers to Ptolemus doing it on his own. He’d expected the ache yetwas still frustrated by the inefficiency and feebleness in the motions of thenew limb. He’d require weeks of training to return to his old skills.

“This was the wrongway,” he said, sighing. “I should’ve been conscious while you regrew it, andimmediately gotten used to it.”

“Your mother orderedit.”

He startled. “What?”

Wren smoothed herskirts with a dash of vexation. “I told your parents the same – that it’d bemore successful to wait until you’re stable and conscious, but Lady Larentiadisagreed. She wanted you to be … whole, as soon as possible, and your unconsciousness,she claimed, would avoid any ‘disturbances’ in my efforts.” She breathed outheavily, not to say snorted, andturned away, her eyes on the window.

He wished he couldsimply admire her profile, accentuated by the sunlight and let everything elsebe. For a moment. Or an hour.

“That wasn’t her idea.”

“Hm?” Wren moved herface slightly so he could see her raised brow.

He was even morebewitched by her half profile. He cleared his throat. “I mean, that sounds likeMother, but I’m sure father ‘told’ her so.

Wren frowned. “Ithought … a warrior like him would know better?”

He didn’t reply.

Wren’s gaze held on tohim as much as her hands. They continued to soothe him, his fever, and thethrobbing in his new hand, but she couldn’t slow the beat of his heart, or coolthe warmth in his cheeks. Not when she was their cause, and he didn’t dare tolook anywhere but at their joined fingers in his lap. In the pregnant silence,he began to hear her breathing as she waited, thoughtfully. He believed she graspedhis meaning, even without another word from him.

Finally, he lifted hisface and let their eyes lock. He wanted to sink into her touch, into her greyeyes, in this moment. But as he tightened his grip, Wren opened her mouth,about to break apart their understanding.

No,don’t say it

When she breathed in,it was all he needed to anticipate her words.

It’spunishment, isn’t it?

He let go of her hands,startling her enough to interrupt her. He’d speak to be sure. “Why are you here?”he uttered, the first idea he had. But he truly wondered.

Wren was irritated, ifnot annoyed by him being so ungrateful. She pulled away for good, straightenedfirst her back and then some imaginary wrinkles in her skirt – again. It washer habit. “I am and I was there to heal you,” she said sharply.

“Because Eve draggedyou along.”

“To help Mare Barrow,yes.”

“Which was treason.”

This time, she glaredat him. He couldn’t match her stare, but he didn’t flinch away either. Wrensighed, then stood up, glided toward the poor rays of sunlight and huggedherself.

His eyes followed her,realizing well enough that she sought a bit of golden warmth in this place ofcold iron. He knew where either of them belonged.

“I couldn’t have sa …helpedMare Barrow without your sister’s insistence,” she said eventually. “And I wasglad for it, because I’ve wished to help Barrow for a long time.” She glancedover her shoulder. “After I had to see her suffer for months, as close by as onecould get.”

Thatmade him flinch, although Wren’s reminder was hardlyas icy as Barrow’s rage pointed at him. I’vemade her suffer too.

Did Wren notice his thought?She came back to his bed, arms lowered and features soft. She tilted her head. “Everysingle person in this place is a traitor now,” she said. “Did you agree to becomeone too, before?”

He shook his head everso slightly. “We weren’t told beforehand, as a safety provision.”

Wren inclined her head.“Well, I agreed to as much as I was allowed. I wanted … something new.” A twitch,not quite a smile but close to it, played on her lips. “A new king, a neworder. In this case, a new country. Or at least the chance of one. Without …Maven.”Her smile turned sour.

To honour hersincerity, he quieted his snort. It wasn’t that Wren’s notion was false, butthat he was wrong in it. Ridiculous, even. All this would bring was chaos, hewas sure. Maybe his father wanted exactly that, yet Volo was able to controlit, too. Not he, Ptolemus. His father had made him a crown prince, he who hardlygrasped what was happening, and he’d make a mess of it and disappoint everyone.Most of all Wren, especially with this wedding dreaded by all lying in wait.

He wouldn’t demean herwith pretenses. “The Rift won’t do you that favour,” he said. How easy it wasto undermine his father’s ambitions. “Nor can I. I’m not good for you, trustme.”

She laughed. Really laughed,although a flush crept up her cheeks, as if she was also a little embarrassed.She bent down to take his hand and he squeezed back automatically. It painedhis new hand, but he didn’t mind it now. It felt wonderful to touch her, withor without her ability flooding his nerves.

And then she camecloser still, her face mere inches from his and her finger brushing his lips. “Howmany times have I saved your life now?” she asked.

“Umm …” he estimated quickly.He could think of four times at least.

When he said so, sheoffered him a smirk. “And if you count the training incidents too?”

Those were innumerable,and while he considered, her lips touched his, at first as feathery light asher finger before the kiss intensified. What an idiot he was. Had he actuallytried to chase her away? It was the last thing he wanted, although he should want it. For her sake. But that was probably why he’d failed somiserably.

He didn’t want the kissto end, but everything had to. He knew that. Yet having Wren this close to him,to both remember her touch and feel it as they pulled apart, he realized thatthings could also be repeated.

“It seems like,” Wren murmured,“that I’m very good for you, Ptolemus.” He gasped when she spoke his name, andonce again when she laid her head on his chest. “Perhaps you should leave thatdecision to me,” she concluded.

He nodded as he huggedher soft frame. “Then I’ll have to do and get better, I assume.”

He loved that the firstthing his new hand felt, still raw and untested, was someone as lovely andbeautiful as Wren Skonos.

@elliemarchetti @mareshmallow @carstairsjames @eurydicel @hannaharies @clarafarleybarrow @lilyharvord @samanthaslytherin @inopinion @redqueenfandom @selenbean-beany @avid-author-activist @marecalrandomstuff @mvaen

#red queen #red queen fan fiction #ptolemus samos #wren x ptolemus #ptolewren #king's cage #evangeline samos #mare barrow #victoria aveyard #war storm #glass sword #shade barrow #red queen fanfiction #getting better #red queen one-shot

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s-blck · 8 years

Text

Power

'Cause woah, you're squeezing my heart Too hard in your bare hands, they hold too tight And woah the air is on fire This room feels electric, caught here in your sights

Around the time after Maven has the deal with the Lakelanders, knowing before anyone else that he will marry Iris and Mare will be further for him than ever, both of them are too lonely and weak to be above their desperation.

Word Count: 7k+ Pairing: Maven Calore x Mare Barrow Rating: M

Spoilers for everything up to the (roughly) first half of King’s Cage

The walls of my prison are so familiar, I could probably recount every little detail of the stone’s carving in my sleep – if I would sleep, that is. It's only a little past Maven’s and my shared breakfast, which was spent in utter silence today. Some days he doesn’t force a conversation, and in return I don’t spit venom in his wounds. It’s beneficial for the both of us.

I don’t get informed about official gatherings until shortly before, but when a maid brings something to my Arvens, it is unexpected as ever. Especially because it is not one of the blood-red dresses Maven loves seeing me in. They usually await me on my bed after breakfast anyway, by now. Even Kitten is startled for a second, apparently not being informed about any scheduled changes either. She opens the door with wariness, but finds only a Red servant in front, that has not been stopped by either Egg or Trio. The Red girl is balancing a bottle and an elegantly shaped glass. Kitten puts it down on the table in the middle of the room, not bothering with dismissing the servant. Her face is giving away nothing as usual, but curiosity eventually gets the better of me. I don't like the fact that Clover and Kitten see me being curious in whatever Maven considers a gift - no doubt that he does, but my Arven guards are nothing if not relentless in their duty. If I want to know, I will have to find out under their unwavering gazes. I walk up to the table reluctantly, the Silent Stone manacles and sleep deprivation eating away at every fibre of my body, but I don't need to reach the table to see what they brought. Wine. And just the kind I like, if I ever liked any. I can't help but laugh. I don't know what his intention behind this is, but I certainly won't take a sip. My guards don't show any sign of reaction, and I can't read whether they know the motives behind this, but I don't care either. I've been meticulous not to drink whenever Maven parades me around, so I certainly won't do it now, in the solitude of my confinement. Wine never does any good unless I want to forget for a while. And as much as I do, the thought of loosing the little control I have in here is unbearable.

The hours pass, and nothing other than the maid bringing the wine happens. It's not unusual, the solitude of my prison is weighting down on me ever since Maven made me his pet. But I keep wondering what he’ll will do if I just refuse to touch it. I get my answer a few hours later, when dinner comes and goes, and the only thing changing is that they bring another bottle to add to the unopened one. I wait till the maid has taken the empty plates away, just to see whether my refusal will change anything. It was simply to kill the time and amuse myself a little in the monotony of my daily schedule. I already know that simply because I refuse Maven, he will not give up so easily. It’s not a surprise that the bottles stay there, looming at me, a painful reminder that Maven is somewhere watching and waiting. I would laugh, only I know that this is nothing to laugh about. I know that there are normal drinks - water - right in my bathroom, but I feel too proud to sneak in there only to drink. I won't let Maven push me into grovelling around. There's a tiny part of me - the part that I hate, the part that I know is in love, still, with the ghost prince I want to be somewhere in him - that feels sorry. A part that feels pity, because he's so convinced that he truly loves me, that my blatant hatred for him makes him this desperate. I refuse to be nice to him because all he deserves is my spite. I refuse to hold a conversation that doesn't consist of jabs, and every single verbal stab I know will rile him up or catch him off guard in some way. And I refused the one kiss he mustered up the courage to give me. Refused it even if it would've been beneficial for my cause, because he is the one person I can't bear to kiss. Because allowing him to kiss me would open the gates to every feeling I have ever harboured and still harbour for the ghost prince that isn't there anymore. For every feeling I’m working so hard to extinguish in any way I can. I repeat my mantra as I try to read one of Julian's books. I won't give in. It's no use. I've been staring at the same page for heaven knows how long, and I don't remember a single sentence. All my thoughts can focus on are those two damned bottles, demanding my attention, and Maven’s intention and desperation is speaking volumes through them. I don't want to pity him. I have not pitied him when he told me what Elara did to him, what she's still, even in her death, doing to him. But for some reason, when he's baring his heart in the most desperate way possible, and is not ashamed to tell me that he longs for me this much, I suddenly begin to pity him.

It's frustrating, that my Arvens probably can see my internal struggle. It would be a miracle if they don't; the longer I stare at the pages of the yellow book the more I feel drawn to giving in. I close the book with a frustrated pang - I know they are watching me, there's no use in being subtle. Both of them are women. They can act as emotionless as they want, they are fooling me as little as I am fooling them. I am still careful not to let my anger out in the only thing aside from Gisa's silk that still reminds me of my friends, of the people Maven has taken me from and taken from me. I wouldn't dare damaging them. The only person deserving of my anger is Maven and his child court.

I've been fighting with myself the whole day, and it's been dark outside for a long time. Maven has not come; no doubt he is waiting like a tiger stalking his prey. I'm not doing this for him. There's nothing I would do for him. I'm doing this for me, doing it because despite my iron resolve I have lost count of how many months I've been here, endured Evangeline and Ptolemus, Volo, and worst of all Samson, how many days and nights I have spent allowing tears to flow that I swore wouldn't.

I will not give up. I will not be the weak one of us. But just for tonight I decide that I don't care. As I walk up to the table, studying both of the etiquettes on the bottles, I hear a slight shuffle at the door. I knew they were waiting - hoping - for me to lose this fight, but somehow after a day this long I can't find it in me to care. I'd like to think that overall I have still won this silent fight between me and my Arvens no matter how much weakness I show tonight. I grab the sweeter of the two bottles, opening it. The wine smells intoxicating, and I know that if I give in, I will no doubt be drunk, especially after eating ridiculously little of my evening meal, and my body having become as thin and sickly as it has. Despite it I throw all care into the wind, foregoing the glass without a second glance. I've already decided defeat; I might as well do it properly. I sit down on my bed, decidedly not looking at either of my guards and only focusing on my bottle instead. The wine tastes sweet on my tongue, heavy and rich in its flavour. It's definitely good as far as wine goes, and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach to know that Maven has perfect knowledge of my taste. It pushes me to take another swig right away, wanting to cover the sour taste of Maven's obsession with the sweet taste of the wine.

The first bottle is empty long after I feel the wine take into effect. I don't feel like I usually did. Back when I posed as Mareena Titanus the wine had a very uplifting effect on me. It helped me forget that I didn't belong in the court of Silvers, or at either of the prince's side, and instead made me revel in the feeling of either of their embrace. It made me enjoy the glances Maven stole at me even more. It made sink into the kissed indefinitely more, feeling every little taste on his lips as if I kissed him every day, not every other week. Now it makes me feel angry. It brings out my frustration about my inability to escape, my inability to find out Maven's weaknesses and use them, and most of all to erase the memory of the ghost prince from my heart and brain once and for all. The bottle has fallen off the bed and there's some wine-rest spilling on the floor. I don't care. It looks so dark it could pass as a pool of blood and the sight holds my attention. Despite the wrong colour it reminds me of Maven's blood spilling from his torn open throat. The sight twinges my heart, and I kick at the empty bottle in anger. It rolls over the floor with force, smashing against the opposite wall and into a thousand pieces. Apparently it was the action the Arvens needed to jump into action. It's not obvious but I've been waiting for it, so I catch the movement even from my drunk position on the bed. Kitten stays but Clover opens the door, allowing me to catch a glimpse at Egg and Trio. No one says anything but I see the smirk spread on Egg's face. I've never seen so much emotion on him and it makes me even more disgusted with myself to know that they anticipated this, and that they knew Maven would win eventually. Bracing myself for what's about to come - I'm not sure what, but I do have a rough idea - I lie back on the bed, covering my eyes from the light with my arm.

It doesn't take long until the door opens again. I don't need to look up to know that it's Maven. I recognize his controlled steps, and I knew he was waiting to rush here and dismiss the Arvens. I don't move to look at him. At first he doesn't come close either, but I do feel his presence near me, hovering, waiting. The silence weights down on me until I can't bear it anymore.

"You must be proud."

It's the first time I talk since breakfast, and my voice is raspy as usual. Only now it's also tinged with a slight lull thanks to the wine. He doesn't reply, he doesn't make a sound at all until I sit up with a sigh, allowing him yet another win. The sight of him hits me hard. I don't know whether it is because of the haze over my mind or because of the soft spot he still holds in my heart, but there is no ice in his eyes today and it says more than words. I would get up and walk over to him but I'm not quite there yet. Or probably never will be. He just looks at me for a while, and I hold his gaze. He does not answer but he doesn't need to. He's not proud. No matter how much he wants me to love him, and no matter how many times he forces his company one me, this is something he did not do with pride. He looks a lot worse to wear than he has this morning. He looks paler to me every morning, but tonight the dark circles under his eyes make the rest of his skin seem like that of a dead man. His eyes are soft but not out of love, but out of the weight that's apparently been crushed on him. I haven't heard of any news, but I'm aware it must've been something bad to shake him this much. He's too scheming, too much of a genius, to have something so unexpected happen, and whatever it was I know it must be something he had to do despite what he wants, and it’s put him in a bad place. He needs me. Not just like he usually needs my company, but he needs me emotionally in every way I grant him.

"Maven..."

I don't know where I'm going with this and I hate the fact that his name falls softly off my tongue tonight, but I can't help it. His face softens as soon as his name leaves my lips, not in a loving way but in the way a drowning man claws at his life saving source. He stumbles over, falling more into the bed than sinking down. I don't move, don't offer him comfort, no matter how much a part of me longs to run my fingers through his dark, wild, locks, sorting them a little and giving him the comfort he craves. I don't need to move though. He's never been one to look for approval, and tonight is no different. I'm still sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall in my simple white dress, and he puts his head in my lap as if it is the most natural thing to do. I don't react, stilling under him, but he doesn't seem to be disturbed by it. He pats around the bed behind him, until his hand falls on mine. I draw back on instinct but he grabs a tighter hold, not letting me move away. He forces my hand to his head, and I don't need him to say anything to bury my fingers in his soft locks like I wanted to anyway. The question burns on my tongue, and the wine has loosened me enough not to hold back.

"What happened?"

He snorts, an irritating contrast to the pained look on his face. "You think it has something to do with your Scarlet Guard friends or my brother?” He spits the word as ever, but it lacks venom – and any sufficient information. He seems too exhausted to have real spite in him.

"I think, that whatever happened made you force me to get drunk just so you could get some comfort from the one person you refuse to accept that hates you."

"I didn't force you.", he sighs, sounding so exhausted.

"You're just lucky that I'd rather be drunk than hide in the bathroom so I don't dehydrate."

He turns his head in my lap, looking up at me. I hold his gaze, like I always do, and a tiny smile creeps on his face. It takes me by surprise, and I catch myself smiling back at him before I can stop myself. I mentally curse that damned wine, but it's too late to take it back. And the warmth that fills his usually icy blue eyes is somehow worth it. It painfully reminds me of the prince I fell for, and I can't find it in myself to hate him right that moment. The hatred settles right back in when he reaches for strands of my hair, curling them between his fingers. He toys with them and I let him, glad that he's too occupied to talk to me, and content enough with being this close to not ask for anything more. His brows furrow when his eyes fall on the tips of my hair, the grey reaching up higher by the day. It's obvious that he doesn't like it, so naturally I suddenly feel a lot better about the way my hair is turning out. I try to ignore that my hand is still buried in his black locks as well, gently - way too gently - running my fingernails over the nape of his neck.

"I won't let you be hurt again.", he suddenly whispers, breaking the almost bearable silence we had settled on. I contemplate what to say for a moment. I shouldn't be affected by the words. I've heard them too many times. He's said them so much already, and while he may think he intends to keep them, and protect me from all harm, he couldn't be more wrong. His promises are just as poisoned as his obsessed love for me. And yet, I try to blame it on the wine that this time, they do get to me. This time, despite the fact that I could choke him with my bare hands in a heartbeat, and burning with him would be worth the price, I feel oddly fond about the fact that in his way, he is trying. I don't let it show though. It's enough to feel it.

"You're the one hurting me, Maven."

I try to spit it out, channelling all the venom that usually comes so easy in my voice. I'm not sure if it works, until he sits up abruptly, his legs on the bed, right next to mine. He's facing me, and I see the fire that is suddenly back in his eyes. I try to quench a tremble. I don't even know why I'm trembling. I'm hardly ever truly scared of Maven, he's hurt me in so many ways there is little he can do from here. I entertain the thought that I might be trembling because I've never come this close to see the prince I let myself like for a long while, but quickly discard it. It doesn't matter. This is his prison, just for me, and in here his rules are the only ones that count. What Maven wants, he gets.

"Am I truly so cruel?", he hisses. I want to say yes, because he is every part the monster I think he is. I want to slap him, for even questioning this after he brought so much pain. After he killed my brother. But this is still partly the Maven I know speaking to me. An angry, kingly version of him, but still a version too gentle, too hurt, too confused, to be the mad boy king. So I can't say yes to his face, and mentally slap him back into reality. Instead I settle on silence, my lips a firm line, challenging him to go on.

"You keep saying that I hurt you, that I hurt the people you love, but you never think before throwing another spiteful jab at me."

I am too dazed and taken aback to protest. He isn't right, of course. But he has never defended his actions quite so adamantly, and my brain works too sluggishly to disagree with him.

"I let your brothers go. I let my brother go, even though all he has done in his life is take from me."

Now I want to protest. I want to spit at him, and tell him how Cal has never taken from him, how Elara was pulling the strings that led to his misfortune, twisting her net in a way that makes everyone else seem at fault. But Maven is too fast for my hazy brain to form a full argument.

"He took our father's favour. He took my chance for the throne. He took the admiration, the glory, the adoring loyalty of half the high houses. He had all of that. But he had to go and take you too."

I can feel myself gape at him. He always complained about how Cal put him in the shadow, always going on about this unfair treatment. But he had never with the slightest words hinted at jealousy. He hadn't known the dynamic of Cal's and my relationship, if it ever was anything like that. I suddenly realize with a jolt that Samson knows. Samson's seen every small detail of the countless nights I spent at Cal's side. As good as all of them innocent, but I don't know how - what - he told Maven. I see the pure jealousy burning in his eyes, and now I am a little scared. Jealousy makes people do stupid things, and Maven looks like he is just about ready to burn down every last wall of Whitefire palace.

"Me and Cal never-"

I don't get to finish or defend myself. Maven is too riled up to hear me out. He grabs my chin, a lot gentler than I would've expected, forcing me to stay in place when he leans in. His skin doesn't touch mine except for his fingertips, but I feel the scorching heat all the same. He's furious.

"You were supposed to be my queen. But instead he took you away, leaving behind Evangeline."

I've never heard him say the name with so much disgust, and it makes my heart flutter.

"I see the accusation in your eyes every time her wretched brother is close, like I choose this."

I want to tell him he did, he chose it the second he betrayed Cal, betrayed us all, but I can't. I'm too elated by his words about House Samos, too scared, all of a sudden, that my guards will hear his treacherous words, and they will cost him their loyalty.

"I would've chosen you, Mare, would've chosen you over all of them any day. Instead you let Cal in your bed, let him be where my place should be."

His words, while they do ignite a fire of their own in me that I didn't know still existed, also help me fight through the alcohol induced haze. "You had me. But you didn't choose me over anything. Not over the crown." It i the truth and even in his vile idea of love he can see that. He doesn’t try to deny it. It doesn’t help. The second his lips crash on mine I shrink into myself. This is what I knew would happen, what I'd dreaded from the moment the first bottle of wine was put on my table. Once more, he doesn't care that I don't react. He holds my chin in his hand, still, his lips not leaving mine for half an eternity. When he finally breaks away, another kind of heat in his eyes, and his cheeks covered by the most delicious silver flush, I curse my own weakness. I might not have kissed him back, but I can’t deny that I wanted to.

"Every time I look at you, I'm being punished."

He's almost whispering, his lips close to brushing mine with every word. Usually I would lean away, but I'm too intrigued by what he has to say.

"Every morning you enter my chamber and I entertain the thought, just for a second, that you want to. That I made the right choice and instead of my brother, you love me."

There's no point in correcting him. There's no point in telling Maven that I don't only love his brother, that I still hate my own heart for not letting go of him. The pain in his eyes is almost crushing, so when he leans in again I can do nothing but let it happen. I hate it more with every passing second, but his lips are setting me on fire and for once it doesn't feel too hot, or too painful. It feels like it felt back when the world was still somewhat right and I thought I was going to marry the broken, hurt prince. The prince I would've willingly shared every kiss I had with. It's that thought that weights down on my heart the most, enough for me to stop pulling away with my whole body, almost giving him free reign instead. Despite his sick love Maven knows me. He's kissed me a few times too many to be a stranger to how my body reacts to his. So he can feel the slightest sign of approval. The soft moan leaving his lips almost makes me too weak to keep some control. I let go enough to let him press me back into the wall. He's towering over me, his black hair tickling my cheeks and brushing over the lashes of my closed eyes. His hand slowly moves from my jaw when he can be sure I won't break the kiss. He buries his hand in my hair instead, and the soft graze of teeth on my lower lip makes me jump in surprise. I gasp, and he uses the surprise to slip his tongue into my mouth. This time it's my turn to moan, even just lightly but enough to make me hate myself. The feel and taste of his tongue is achingly familiar. In all the time when Maven was hunting for me, not even Cal's kisses could make me forget the way his brother puts all he wants to say in the swipe of his tongue in my mouth. I grab his hair, angrier than anything else now, angry that even though my mind protests, my body does not. He definitely enjoys the change of pace, because suddenly I'm on his lap and he's sucking on my tongue hard.

Stop it, stop it, stop it. The words echo in my head, but my body betrays my thoughts. I know I need to put and end to this, but I bite his bottom lip anyway. It feels so soft and perfectly fitted when I suck it between mine, it almost draws a moan from me again. I feel heat pooling between my legs that has nothing to do with Maven's natural temperature. I doubt the burning trail his fingertips leave on my skin do either. His hands reach mine, and he toys with my fingers for a moment, never breaking the kiss, before his hands find my ass. He pulls the white, simple dress up with force, exposing my backside to them, in the only underwear I am allowed. Soft, silky, and dark red. I am sure he loves the sight of it.

This time the moan slips out when his hands squeeze, pushing me higher up on his lap. My skin crawls when I feel how hard he is under the fine materials of his clothes. Even when I thought I could love him we had never gone this far. Now I feel my body press against his half-hard length automatically, just to hear him groan once more, and I am sure I've never despised myself more. But the sounds Maven makes are too delicious to stop, not that I could. His hands are firmly planted on my butt while his tongue still pleasures my mouth in every way he knows, making it impossible for me to protest. I need to, but the slide of his tongue against mine renders me useless except for my very hazy thoughts. I feel betrayed by my body with every subtle move it makes into Maven's lap. I had no trouble refusing his kisses because they were selfish. There's nothing selfish in the way one of his hands tips under my dress, finding its way on my hips at first, before he moves the dress up higher. He's forcing the dress up further with his hand, and cool air hits my skin. I don't mind it. Maven is like an inferno.

"Mare”

My name, whispered by his beautiful voice makes me shiver. No matter how much I tell myself it’s my body revolting, I know it isn’t. He finally stops ravishing my lips, but he doesn't give me enough room to think or breathe. His hands are on my breasts, and he's indefinitely more gentle than I ever dreamt. His hand squeezes timidly, cupping the underside of my breast. Despite the dread in my body I arch into his hand. I've been dying to have this Maven for too long. His other hand starts playing with my nipple, and he's running his soft thumb over it, making me even weaker in his arms. "You're all I want."

I don't want to hear the words. I just want him to touch me and not say a word so I can pretend this is my innocent, broken, Maven. I hadn't known how much I was physically craving him, but I'm too lulled in by the wine and the curtain of desire the slight rocking of his hips and the pleasure his fingers give me to care. In the back of my head I'm convincing myself this is all for tactical reasons. The truth is I die to get my lips on his jawline, kissing down further until I reach his neck. His pale, silver skin is beautiful as ever, but even more enjoyable to touch. I dart out my tongue when I reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder, tasting his fine skin. He moans, a mix of intelligible sounds and my name, his hands dropping from my breasts. I almost stop and complain, but when he grabs onto the hem of the dress, lifting it up over my head, I lean away and let him before continuing to spread kitten licks on his skin. He seems to like it a lot, judging by the way he's craning his neck, burying his face in my hair. I hear the soft whimpers and it drives me on even more. He doesn't even care that my hair is once more a tangles, ratty mess, too absorbed by my lips pleasuring his neck. Only when I bite down, demanding him to react because I don't want to be the one taking the lead in this, not when there's still disgust layered deeply under the fire in my body. He complies, leaning away and the way his eyes ravish every piece of exposed skin makes me want to hide. But it's also making even more heat pool between my legs. His eyes hover on my undergarments for a second and I think it's impossible for him to miss how much I need him right now. It makes my cheeks burn in shame. There's no way he doesn't notice how thin and worn out my body is. But there's nothing but adoration in his eyes and he manages to make me feel like he's never seen anything more beautiful.

"I hate you so much", I choke out and its lacking effect. My voice is nothing more but a few breathily sputtered words, lacking all the spite I usually have in me. Maybe he doesn't hear it at all. His eyes are focused on my body instead, still, and he's licking his lips. I don't know whether he does it on purpose but the effect is all the same. I know I don't like it but I can't make myself react that way. Instead I stare at Maven, waiting for him to look at me. When he does, his mouth turns into a smile that melts everything but my hatred for him that's deeply implemented into my brain. He doesn't see, or chooses not to. Instead he runs his hands down my arms and over my thighs, gripping them suddenly to pull me up on his lap. The movement causes me to brush against his now very hard crotch, and a harsh groan tumbles over his reddened lips. It wouldn't have the same effect if I thought he's done this with many beautiful Silver ladies at court. But I know he hasn't. This Maven, this Maven whose hands are nothing but gentle and admiring, whose body reacts so strongly to mine, is just for me. His grip on my thighs softens when he moves his hand away, brushing it over the wet fabric of my underwear at first, testingly. When he's satisfied with my reaction, my eyes glazing over, he slips them in fully. I don't know whether the sob falling over my lips is because of the utterly wrecking feeling when his finger dips into me, or because of how disgusted I am with myself. Maven doesn't care. He slides his finger into me relentlessly, adding a second one when my quiet gasps start turning into moans. I close my eyes so I don't have to see him. It's enough to feel him all around me. Inside me. His slender, soft fingers are way too good at this, pressing against my walls in an angle so right he shouldn't know it. He's sliding his fingers in and out in such a slow rhythm, a little of the teasing, mischiveous Maven I know comes through. It makes it all the more pleasurable.

I can't help but throw my head back, exposing my neck and bare chest to him. I can't see his reaction but I can feel it by the way he curls his fingers inside of me. I clench around him despite my best efforts, and he is spurred on by my reaction. He holds onto my ass, pushing me down on his fingers more and I sputter his name together with a string of curses. I'm close to the edge and he knows, moving them into me harder. My moans start lacking breath, Maven wrecking me with just his fingers, but before he pushes me over the edge he pulls out, waiting until I calm down enough to look at him. I know, despite what I wish, the hatred is for once not because I hate him so much but because I hate that he didn't even let me finish.

But we both know that we'll go all the way tonight. His eyes are too glazed over, his pupils blown so wide there's little left of the icy blue. And I'm moving against his lap even while thinking that I need to stop. He left me high and dry and I'm too far gone to care. I don't help him, it's the smallest defiance I can muster at the moment. He doesn't need my help though. Maven moves me off his lap gently and for the tiniest second there's a spark of hope, hope that he'll leave me my pride and walk away. It dies with the next kiss. It's a hungry one, rougher than any of the kisses before yet gentler at the same time. It feels like he puts all his need for me in the one kiss and it draws me in like I'm starving. I let him wrap his hand around my neck, the scorching hot fingertips a pleasant feeling. Even his lips feel too hot, like he's lost some of his control over his fire. It's prickling, his tongue leaving me burning with every kiss, and I can't stop. I knew I held a soft spot for Maven, always, but I didn't know just how much he could do to me.

He bites down on my bottom lip, hard, sucking it into his mouth and I'm sure it'll be swollen soon. I don't care though. The pain is a welcome one because it reminds me that I don't deserve to enjoy this. I barely register his hand moving to my undergarments, barely register him pushing them down and me not putting up a fight. I knows he's undressed but it's all I can do now to not show any sign of eagerness. He wants to pull me back on his lap but I shove his hands away. It's a sign clear as day. I won't work for this. If he wants it he'll have to be the one to take over because I won't give it to him without effort. It's the smallest bit of pride I have left. He clicks his tongue, looking at me with a lopsided smile I've almost never seen on him. Maven pulls a strand of hair behind my ear, taking my hand into his gently. He locks our fingers, having to use his own hand to make me.

When he gets me to comply he runs his free hand along my thigh, wrapping it around my ankle. He pulls my leg forward decidedly, so I have no choice but to lay back on the bed. I try to find comfort in the fact that I'm doing nothing beyond what he insists on. Except he doesn't force me to look at him, doesn't force me to rake my eyes over his shirtless form, his pale skin almost shimmering in the moonlight. He looks just as malnourished and drawn out as I do and I instantly wish I wouldn't have seen. I don't want to know about his suffering. He's brought it upon himself. Just like I cannot pity myself for enjoying his lips running down my neck and cleavage, because I consented to it. It would be a lie to say I haven't imagined Maven's hands and lips on my body before, especially on bad nights, when I was rereading his vile, twisted notes in secret. He's murmuring against my skin but I don't make an effort to understand him. Whatever he's saying I don't want to know. Still, I bury my hands in his locks, making them even more unruly when I run my nails over his scalp. His lips have found my breasts, and he switches between nestling his face in the valley between them and biting down on my nipple, soothing the skin with soft licks. My best efforts are futile; my back is still arching into his mouth. One of his hands wraps around my waist, settling on my back and he holds me up, holds me closer to him. His breath is burning me and I melt in it, melt against his lips. He's paying attention to my pleasure first but I know this is also selfish. He wants nothing more than to have me. The bites he places in between kisses are prove of that. He licks over my nipple once more, replacing his tongue with his finger when he moves up to my face. I see his eyes dart to the M he branded me with, and I see the pride and hunger in them. He loves to mark me as his. The bite on my neck isn't as painful as the scorching pain of the branding was. He's gentler all together, immediately sucking on the reddened skin after he bites down. I know it will be a big, dark mark, but my body feels too much on edge to tell him to stop. He keeps repeating himself, biting and sucking until I'm sure my neck and everything down to my breasts is patched with dark blue blotches.

As much as he pays attention to my pleasure, I get impatient. I want this to be over with. Every second I enjoy is a second that will haunt me later. I wrap my leg around his hips, forcing him down against me and his kisses falter into a rough groan. My hands don't leave his hair when I pull him up, biting his lip with much more force than what's pleasurable. He doesn't care, moaning into my mouth and grabbing my thigh to make me wrap my other leg around him as well. He doesn't let go of me, he nails digging into my skin when he pushes into me. I break the kiss, gasping harshly. It hurts, but I've had worse. I can mask the pain and not let him know that he's taking my virginity. That I let him take it rather than anyone else. I think part of him has figured it out, his initial rough rhythm slowing. I hide the pain well but he still goes completely still inside me. I'm grateful but I don't let it show. I'm also grateful for the kisses he places behind my ear and on my neck, even though I will myself to ignore what he's saying.

He's holding back for my sake, because I can feel his hips shaking slightly. Once the pain reduces a bit I tighten my hold on his waist, and he understands. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to look at him. But I can't help sputtering his name when he slides inside me again and again and slowly the pain turns into pleasure. It feels too good to hold back and I can't. Soon he has me writhing under him, my face buried in his pale skin. He is more flushed than I've ever seen him, and I'm sure my cheeks are bright read, from both exhaustion and arousal. He has lost all control over his body heat and I am sweating so much my hair is plastered to my back. He keeps his rhythm steady, but somehow manages to hit me deeper every time, until my chest is heaving. I'm a moaning mess, and I can barely sort my thoughts. Maven's hand reaches from my hip between us, sliding down over our slick skin until he finds my sensitive nub.

He is drawing small circles on it so slowly, that it only edges me on further but isn't enough to grant me release. He wants me to move with him. It angers me beyond reason, but I'm also so close I give in, moving my hips with him. When I meet his thrusts halfway, it allows him to slide in deep enough to hit my most sensitive spot. I clench around him and after a couple more pushes pleasure rips through me, my orgasm crashing down on me. It's hard to breath, hard to do anything but gasp for air and let pleasure wash over me. I think I moan Maven's name a couple of times, judging by the way he kisses me like I've given him his only heart's desire. He presses his finger down harder on my clit, drawing out my orgasm until I feel physically spent. Maven's grunting, and in my moment of utter bliss I clench around him willingly, pushing him over the edge. I feel him twitching inside me, twisting the limits of my overly sensitive core, before he's spilling himself into me.

I pat his sweaty hair afterwards, holding him to help him calm down. He has his face pressed into my neck so tightly that it's hard for me to understand what he’s saying. I let him ramble on, showing no reaction, until the words filter through.

"Please don't leave me too."

It's his own fault that people leave him but it doesn't change the fact that he is broken and I realize I don't regret giving him this. Just for one night both of us deserve to pretend none of all the mess that tore us apart ever happened. I still can't leave him lying on top of me, baring his emotions that I didn't ask for and don't want. I truly only want to hit him over the head with my silent stone manacles until his silver blood is spilled all over the floor and soaking the bed sheets. Instead I can only take to verbal assaults, like I usually do.

"This changes nothing", I spit instead, causing him to snort into my neck. I immediately know the Maven I hate more than anyone else is back. He sits up, smiling at me so coldly I have to suppress a shiver. "If you want to tell yourself so, I won't stop you. But I've left my mark on you again, and ultimately there's nothing you can do to erase a single one of them."

Even though I know that part of him did not come for that reason, and he did not think like that for the better part of the time he spent in here, it still delivers a harsh blow to me. Because he's right. When he opens the door I see that he sent the Arvens away for good while he was here. It's a small relief. At least only Maven and I know about this. But I still feel sick, and it's not because of the wine. I have the sudden unbearable urge to throw up. Maven is right, he's set another mark on me and I will not be able to erase this one either.

#red queen #king's cage #maven calore #mare x maven #maven x mare #let me live in my happy little bubble where mare and maven are ultimately meant for each other #Ive spent enough time crying over the reality #also first time i dont write on my other blog /write for a fandom this is weird ugh

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