#and also gold who I made up for this au but shhh

[solacebean]

Small dump of Null AU designs, including Kintsugi, Tetra, Dust, Rook, Raven, and Midna

[the-lonelybarricade]

My Kingdom Come Undone - (1/3)

Summary: There weren’t many ways Elain was allowed to want. Most things were decided for her, every path laid down before she’d even been born, where she was simply expected to follow. Lucien, with his cunning eyes and smart mouth, was something that no one had chosen for her. And even if she could never have him, that couldn’t stop Elain from wanting him. Desperately.

An Elucien Royal Guard x Princess AU for @elainweekofficial's Day 3: Blood and Water prompt.

CW: Explicit content, eventual non-graphic violence.

Read on AO3

-

“Elain—”

Elain quickly turned her head to deliver a sharp hush between her teeth, pushing a single finger to her lips.

As was typical of any man, the Lord ignored her in favor of hearing his own voice. He whispered, “Do you know where—”

“Shhh!”

The sound was made harsher by her irritation, and it wasn’t lost on her that the shushing was louder than the whisper itself. But Elain had planned this all so carefully, and she wasn’t about to let Graysen ruin it by being a clumsy fool who had always been given what he wanted, so he’d never needed to hone his stealth. She had chosen this path through the garden purposefully, so that the soft moss swallowed each of their footsteps, and the thick canopy obscured them from the guard tower in the stone turrets just above.

She parted the vines of a large weeping willow, where yesterday she had already brought over a blanket folded neatly into a woven basket. Graysen watched, a smile creeping over his face, as she laid it over the dirt and primly climbed atop it.

“Well,” she said, flipping a lock of curls over her shoulder, hoping to expose more of the decolletage from the dress that she had also selected with purpose. “Are you going to join me?”

Elain could track the exact moment where all thoughts vacated his mind, and soon Graysen was kneeling between her legs on the blanket, bracketing her body with his.

“Everyone told me that you’re a proper lady,” he said, clearly having a difficult time moving his eyes away from the swell of her breasts. They trailed up, slowly, to her lips. He smiled like a man in a stupor. “I’m beginning to think they have not known you the way I do.”

“Perhaps you are a bad influence,” she said, breathlessly. His lips were getting closer, reminding Elain that for all her exuded confidence, she had not actually done this before, nor did she have any intention to.

“I would be honored to influence you further.”

Graysen’s hand was clammy and Elain did her best not to recoil when he pressed it against her shoulder, following the slope upwards, past her fluttering pulse, so that he could cradle his fingers beneath her neck. She was beginning to think she had not planned this carefully, afterall.

“Your highness.”

Oh thank the gods, she thought, ignoring Graysen’s frantic scramble off her body as light flooded the dim space. They both turned to its source—to the man who stood at the edge of the willow, an arm held aloft to part its vines. Sunlight shafted past his shoulders, gilding his silhouette like he were forcing them to bear witness to his magnificence. Though, there was nothing magnificent about his face. At least not presently. Where Lucien’s face was usually lovely, now it was set into a harsh, disapproving frown.

His russet and gold eyes flicked between Elain and Graysen. They settled on Graysen, who was shriveling beneath that gaze with none of the bravado he had assumed when he snuck out with Elain in the first place. It was the scar, Elain thought. The way it slashed through Lucien’s brow and the corner of his lip made his frown look all the more menacing.

“Lord Graysen,” Lucien said, voice flat. She noticed his free arm shift, so that his long, elegant fingers rested on the hilt of his golden sword. A tad too threatening for a guard addressing his charge and her company. “Your father is looking for you. Something about a scandal and a hushed pregnancy with a scullery maid. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Cheeks growing redder by the second, Graysen mumbled an apology as he pushed his way out of the privacy of the willow tree. Leaving Elain, ever so briefly, in the company of Lucien Vanserra. His jaw was clenched, accentuating the muscle in his cheek. Elain knew he thought he looked very intimidating when he stared at her like that. And she would pretend it was shame that made her cheeks heat, so that he would never stop doing it.

“You didn’t need to embarrass him.”

Lucien snorted. “He did that without my interference.”

“Well,” she said, feigning obstinance as she laid back on the blanket. “It’s a shame you came all this way to interrupt us, because I intend to lounge beneath the willow whether the lord is in my company or not.”

With a long suffering sigh, Lucien ducked into the willow, letting the vines fall shut behind him. “Sounds like we have a lovely day ahead of us, then.” His voice was snide, like he was doing the opposite of what she wanted when he lowered himself to the ground.

Elain supposed, in a way, he was. She would have preferred if he sat on the blanket.

“I’m not stupid,” he added. Elain held her breath, nervous at what he put together, until he said, “I know the second I leave, you’ll slip right through those gates to sneak back into the village.”

“Hmmm, you caught me.”

Elain kept her voice elusive, knowing her unspoken satisfaction would cause him to stir. Because he hadn’t sniffed out her intentions—not even close. He still thought she had been sneaking out of the castle because she wanted to giggle and toss her hair at the pretty man who worked the counter at the confectioners shop. Lucien had been the one to barge in and drag her home, then, too.

It bothered her, a little, that he was so clueless. When she knew that he was clever and that she wasn’t exactly trying to be subtle. Making grand plans with dull lords for the chance to get a small, private moment alone with him. Sneaking out of the castle because she knew it meant he was the one who would need to chase her down. And yet he was tipping his head back against the great stump of the willow, finding the back of his eyelids far more interesting than the precious time he was made to spend alone in the company of the princess.

Elain knew Lucien hadn’t wanted this job. Not that he’d ever told her as much. He didn’t need to. With the exasperated way he conducted himself whenever she so much as blinked in his direction, it was obvious he resented his position at her side. What she didn’t know was why, when being a member of the royal guard was considered one of the highest positions for a knight.

“The confectioner, at least, has a skillset,” he noted, eyes still closed. Elain was grateful, because it allowed her to freely study his face. Even in the shade of the willow, Lucien seemed to glow from within—a copper fire that lived beneath his warm brown skin, so that he looked perpetually flushed with life. She thought if she could get close enough, she would be able to feel the heat of it, but Lucien always kept a careful distance between them. “And he could keep his sightline above your chest.”

She admittedly hadn’t liked that about Graysen, either.

“Perhaps I should visit him tomorrow.”

Nothing, not a flicker of movement on Lucien’s face to indicate that he cared.

Elain added, “I’m certain he has no affairs with a scullery maid.”

“That you know of.”

“He makes lovely apple tarts,” she tried, desperate for him to at least open his eyes and look at the low sweep of her neckline that she had selected specifically for him. He had once offhandedly mentioned that he found the lace trim appealing. Elain had even tugged it, slightly, so that if he did open his eyes, he would see the way the bodice pushed the tops of her breasts up, giving the illusion of cleavage.

“That he does,” Lucien hummed.

“Maybe we can share one.”

He opened his eyes, then. One after the other—dark russet, then gold. But they didn’t waver from her face, not even for a moment. The Queen’s guards were well trained. Though Elain had been often told she was beautiful, she wondered if Lucien even noticed.

Both scarlet brows raised to his hairline. “I’m included in this excursion, am I?”

“You’ll find a way to include yourself, regardless.” She sighed heavily. “You are incapable of turning a blind eye for even a second.”

“That’s my job,” he said dryly.

“To see that I’ll never be kissed?” She cried, like she wasn’t grateful every time Lucien interrupted.

He shook his head, causing his long red hair to fall over his shoulders. Today, half of it had been braided and tied into a knot at the back of his head, so that not an inch of his beautiful features were obscured. “It would be my head on the chopping block, if I let Graysen do to you what he did to that maid. Your mother has made it very clear who you’re forbidden from consorting with.”

“I don’t care what my mother thinks,” Elain grumbled.

“I do,” Lucien said. He pressed a hand to his throat. It was meant to be a dramatic gesture, but all Elain could think about was how much she wished to feel it wrapped around her throat instead. “I prefer my head attached to my body.”

“Well.” Elain crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up even further and still—still—Lucien’s expression remained neutral, his eyes trained on her face. “You’re not doing yourself any favors for the day I become Queen.”

“The Mother help us all.”

Elain scoffed. “I’m putting you first on the executioner’s block. For crimes against my patience.”

“Just as well,” he said, a smile playing at the corners of his full lips “That I will never be in a position to try you for similar crimes.”

She knew that she was an utter fool, to be insulted by a man and still feel butterflies in her stomach because he said it with a smile. It ought to have been offensive, and yet she wanted to giggle. She opted for grabbing a clump of dirt and chucking it at his shoes, instead.

“Treason,” she accused.

“Honesty,” he corrected, brushing the dirt off his polished boots.

It was like nothing she did could faze him. She wondered why she tried so hard, when it was clear he was uninterested and even if he was, there was nothing either of them would be able to do about it. Lucien hadn’t been lying, when he had said the Queen would have his head. Her mother was focused on finding Elain a suitable match to be the future King Consort, and a royal guard was several times removed from those plans.

But there weren’t many ways Elain was allowed to want. Most things were decided for her, every path laid down before she’d even been born, where she was simply expected to follow. Lucien, with his cunning eyes and smart mouth, was something that no one had chosen for her. And even if she could never have him, that couldn’t stop Elain from wanting him. Desperately.

Elain flopped onto her back, feeling the solid earth beneath the blanket. What would it be like, to be a flower with its roots stretching firmly into the earth, always grounded, never wondering what it was and what it wasn’t.

“Lucien?”

He had shut his eyes again, but this time she did not mind if he kept them shut. She admired the way his features relaxed when he wasn’t scowling—a rare sight, when they were together.

“Yes, your highness?”

“You owe me a kiss.”

“Pardon?”

A small peek over her shoulder saw that Lucien had sat up straighter, his brows drawn together. She would feel pleased she drew a reaction out of him, if it wasn’t clear he was disturbed at the prospect of kissing her.

“You interrupted me with the confectioner, which made me resort to sneaking away with Graysen.” She let some of her distaste show, wanting him to know that kissing Graysen truly hadn’t been a favorable option to her. A last resort that he had pushed her to. “And then you interrupted that, too.”

“I believe, princess, that your mother would have disapproved if you kissed the confectioner or the lord. I was acting in her name.”

Lucien loved to remind her, frequently, that he was not hers to command. It was her mother he reported to and Elain knew she constantly walked a fragile line of disobeying Lucien just enough so that she could steal these precious moments, but so that he wouldn’t be removed as her guard entirely.

“If my mother had her way,” Elain said, tasting each bitter word on her tongue, “I would remain chaste until the day she married me off to some man I’ve never met. I just want something that’s mine, Lucien. Something I’ve chosen for myself, that she won’t be able to take away from me. A kiss seems innocent enough.”

There was a moment of silence. She did not often speak this plainly with him, and she knew he was likely assessing this new information, trying to decide how best a knight should respond to his charge without betraying his loyalty to her mother. Ever calculating, ever dutiful. “Lord Graysen was intending to do more than kiss you,” he said, finally. There was an edge to his voice she found curious.

“I know.” Elain had not known about the maid, though, and she might have reconsidered if she had. “But I have the most annoying guard you’ve ever met, and I knew he would stop us before it got much further than that.”

“And if I had been late?” Lucien growled, fury twisting his once lovely features. “If I had been held up for whatever reason, and hadn’t been there to stop it from progressing beyond a simple kiss?”

Elain sat up, gaping at her guard. He had never used this tone with her before. She had seen him irritated, certainly, but never angry. Never at her.

“I knew you would come,” she said, simply. It had never crossed her mind that he wouldn’t—he always did. She had known it with more conviction than she had known where the sun would rise in the sky.

Lucien was still seething. It dripped into his voice, lacing its deep, honeyed warmth with gravel. “It was foolish to gamble with your body—“

“You weren’t this angry before!” Elain protested, feeling the backs of her eyes begin to sting.“You hadn’t seemed the least bothered when you saw him on top of me.”

“I had thought you wanted it!”

He stood, suddenly, pacing in the small space. Sunlight dappled through the willow vines, shifting across his uniform as he moved.

Elain suddenly felt angry, too. “Maybe if you stopped confining me, I wouldn’t be forced to take such drastic measures.”

“I am not the one confining you!” He snapped. His chest was rising and falling with rapid pace and his hands, though not rested on his sword, were clenched into fists. “I am keeping you safe. That is my only job. If you want to let some lordling fuck you in the dirt, be my guest. I will not be responsible for what your mother chooses to do in retaliation.”

Her lower lip began to tremble and Elain sank her teeth down in an effort to make it still. Lucien paused, his expression softening as he read her face.

“Elain—“

“I’ve had enough of the gardens for today,” she said, coldly. She pushed past the drapes of the willow tree, cringing against the sunny day they’d been evading. “I’m certain my mother is looking for me and she will be grateful that her most loyal guard has delivered me to her.”

It was unsurprising when Lucien stepped in front of her. So much taller that he was always catching up to her with burdensome ease. His posture had gone rigid, as unfeeling as his voice as he intoned, “This way, your highness.”

No longer her Lucien. Just any other guard, doing his duty and nothing more.

-

“Prince Koschei would make a fine match,” The Queen declared. She balanced a porcelain teacup delicately between pinched fingers, its saucer poised in her wrinkled hand below. The Queen raised it only midway to her mouth, never drinking, simply posturing like she might. Elain did not think the Queen was capable of enjoying tea. Of enjoying anything, short of her daughter’s misery.

“Prince Koschei is thirty years my senior,” Elain said, carefully. “Surely there are other, more appropriate matches—“

She was cut off by the clatter of porcelain as the Queen set the teacup and saucer down, hard, on the rich mahogany table.

“None so advantageous,” her mother said, sharply. “We’ve long had tenuous relations with our northern neighbors. An alliance through marriage could unite our peoples, promote growth for both our kingdoms—“

“And would he be content as a consort?” Elain interrupted, slamming her tea onto the table, too. It rattled in the saucer, causing the guards in the corner of the room to flinch.

But not Lucien. He stared straight ahead, eyes so distant she thought he likely wasn’t even listening to a word being said.

“It sounds more as though our Kingdom would simply be swallowed by another Rask monarch, merging as part of their territory.”

“Petulant child, you know nothing of which you speak,” the Queen said, crystal eyes narrowed. Besides her fair complexion, Elain shared little else with her mother. Her brown eyes came from her father, kind and warm in a way the castle had not known since his passing. And the golden brown hair tumbling in curls down her back had been passed down from him, as well. Not her mother’s straight platinum that, accompanied with her cool eyes and stern, narrow face, made her look better suited to rule a kingdom of ice than their warm, sea-faring lands.

“What about Prince Tarquin?” Elain asked, recalling the one time she had met him. He had seemed kind, more appropriate for her age, his claim to his own throne distant enough that she did not see him as someone vying for power. He would make a tolerable husband.

Her mother ignored her, pushing on. “Prince Koschei will be arriving tomorrow with a delegation from Rask. Perhaps meeting him will soften your opinions.” She met Elain’s eyes across the table, daring her to challenge. “If by the end of the week you have won his affections, we can begin discussing wedding preparations.”

Wedding preparations.

The tea curdled in her stomach, making Elain suddenly feel nauseous. She pushed from her chair, ignoring her mothers protests as she stumbled quickly out of the room. Elain had only the presence of mind to feel the wooden doors part beneath her palms, how the marble bit into her knees as she fell to the floor and puked into a potted plant.

A warm hand pressed into the center of her back, rubbing soothing circles as another gently lifted the hair from her face. Her mother, Elain thought, surprised to be comforted. But when she turned her head she glimpsed brown skin and scarlet hair and that turned another bout of nausea in her stomach.

Lucien was watching her puke. It was humiliating, but she supposed it didn’t matter now. She would likely be married against her will by the end of the week. Would he even still be her guard by then? The Prince would probably bring his own, insist his wife be policed by men he trusted, asserting his power when she was meant to be the reigning monarch.

When her stomach was emptied and Elain was left, gasping, her fingers grappling uselessly against the marble for something to hold onto, something to keep her upright, Lucien was there. Tugging her into his arms, lifting her from the floor. She was vaguely aware of being carried up the stairs, but was much more distracted by the feeling of being pressed against Lucien’s broad chest. He was warm, like she suspected, and he smelled like leather and metal and firewood. Not able to resist, she pressed her face against his throat, taking each breath greedily.

“Are you okay?” He murmured.

No—and yes. The yes was temporary. It would end the moment he set her down.

“That depends,” she said, shutting her eyes so she could listen intently to his pulse. Elain had estimated he was a man who was always steady, his every breath measured. But his pulse was beating wildly, too. “Can I hire you out as an assassin?”

He laughed, but the sound was humorless. “I don’t expect I’m skilled enough to assassinate a Raskan prince, not with all the men that would be guarding him.”

Elain bunched the fabric of his uniform beneath her fists, crushing the royal crest he bore above his heart. “What about me?” She whispered, only half joking. “You could do it in my sleep. I could go to bed peacefully, knowing I will not need to confront what tomorrow brings.”

“I could never lay a hand on you,” Lucien said, shutting his eyes like that confession pained him. “I have sworn an oath to the mother goddess that I would sooner die in pursuit of your safety.”

They were nearly to her room now, and the thought of Lucien setting her down was unbearable. She slung an arm around his shoulder, burrowing her face against the warmth of his neck. If she shut her eyes, if she willed this moment last, maybe she could stretch those next seconds into eternity.

One, two, three steps, where time passed the same as any other. Then they were through her bedroom door, and another few steps saw them standing above her bed. Her arms tightened around Lucien’s neck, the closest she would allow herself to begging not to be let go.

“Elain,” he said, gently. She liked it so much better than your highness.

It was the tremor in her arms that made her realize she was crying. That Lucien had said her name because he could feel it, wet against his neck. She thought he would pry her off of him, with that same cold distance he normally applied to their exchanges. But when Lucien saw that she wouldn’t detach of her own volition, he sat on the bed instead, cradling her to his chest. The gentleness shocked her, as did the hands that slid into her hair, lending comforting strokes while he held her.

He didn’t speak, and maybe it was the silence that mortified her because eventually she croaked, “I don’t want to marry him. I really would rather die.”

“And who would take the throne?” He asked, softly. “You have a duty to your people.”

“I’ll poison him, then,” she said. “I’ll slip it into his drink on our wedding night.”

“Now there’s something I finally would turn a blind eye to.”

Elain knew he was saying that only for her benefit, and she couldn’t resist a smile, which she hid against his chest.

Fingers still stroking her hair, Lucien said, “I’m not worried for you. Do you want to know why?”

She could hear the rumble of his voice in the back of his throat. Elain thought she would never be able to hear Lucien speak again, without thinking of how it felt to be pressed against him, to feel his breath at her temple, and those exquisite fingers curling against her scalp.

“Why?”

“Because you are clever, and so insufferably stubborn that I don’t think there’s a force on this earth that could bend your spirit.”

That was what finally coaxed her arm away from his neck, if only so she could pull away to glimpse his face. His eyes were burning, just like they had been beneath the willow when they were arguing. Glowing forges of copper and gold that made Elain swallow past the thickness in her throat. He was enraged, but not at her.

Her grip on his tunic loosened, releasing the now crumpled royal crest. She pushed her fingers out, stretching the fabric until her palm laid flat against his solid chest. His heartbeat reached up to greet her, reminding her with every improbable beat that she was in Lucien Vanserra’s lap, touching him. And from the way his eyes briefly shuttered beneath her too curious palm, she thought maybe he didn’t mind as much as he had always pretended.

“Thank you,” Elain said. It was little more than a whisper, but she felt as if she screamed it, for the way it scraped past her throat. She blinked, wetting her cheeks with the tears still clumped on her lashes. “For carrying me up the stairs, and for reminding me that I won’t be facing this completely alone.”

Lucien’s hand reached up, catching the few stray tears with his thumb. She could feel the scrape of his calluses—a texture she had never imagined when she thought of Lucien touching her face, yet all the more welcome for it. It made the moment feel more real, more tangible.

“It’s my job, your highness.” She could have wept again, that he’d defaulted back to her title, but he was still stroking her face. And he made up for it when he added, “So long as I am alive, you will never face anything alone.”

When he spoke like that, the temptation was simply too strong to resist. Elain caught his hand, so much larger and warmer than her own. She squeezed his fingers, leaning her face all the more into his caress. Elain shut her eyes, trying to memorize the feeling of his skin against her own. When she was lying with her husband and he was touching her, she wanted to retreat to this moment, pretend it was Lucien holding her.

She had almost worked up the courage to ask him to stay, so that she would have more than the memory of his hand against her face to draw from. But Lucien only allowed her to savor the intimacy a moment more, before he dropped his hands and lifted her off his lap.

“I’ll go fetch a maid to draw you a calming bath,” he said, with more stiffness than she would have liked. At his side, he was clenching and unclenching his fingers. Like he was trying to chase away the sensation of holding her.

Elain wracked her brain for something to say that could convince him not to leave, but Lucien was already striding toward the door. Leaving her with little more than the burning memory in her palms.

Soon the maids arrived, corralling Elain into a bath, and she didn’t see Lucien again for the rest of the day. At least, not in person. She saw him in her thoughts, occupying her mind while she let her body take control of her motor function. Breathing, eating, trying to make tentative peace with her mother at dinner. It was all colored by the unnamed emotion in Lucien’s eyes when he had swept his thumb against her cheek. It was much easier to think about him, and his callused hands, than the cruel Prince Koschei who would be arriving tomorrow with the intention of courtship.

So it was Lucien she tried to think about as she went to bed that evening, promising she wouldn’t be alone to face what awaited her. But even the phantom beat of Lucien’s steady heart wasn’t enough to keep back her anxieties. Try as she might to shut her eyes and imagine she was tucked against Lucien’s chest, sleep evaded her. Every time her consciousness started to drift, her mind conjured the face of a man more than twice her age, sharing this very bed with her.

Elain jolted upwards, pushing away the blankets that had become smothering against her damp skin. She was gasping, suddenly desperate for fresh air. Wearing only her nightgown, Elain climbed out of bed to follow the ribbon of moonlight that leaked in through the gap in the velvet drapes. She pulled the thick fabric aside, revealing the balcony doors and the bright stars that waited for her on the other side of the glass.

The handle was cool to the touch—startling against her sweaty palm, but a welcome reprieve. She pushed the door open, immediately greeted by a rush of night air that caressed her flushed skin, already doing wonders in calming her uneven pulse. Elain shut her eyes, trying to slow her breathing, to draw strength from the unyielding night sky.

“Your highness?”

She snapped her eyes open, whirling to see Lucien standing on her balcony. He was still wearing his uniform, the crest above his heart wrinkled from her earlier assault. He bore his golden sword at his hip and if that wasn’t enough to signal he was still on duty, then his rigid posture would have.

“Lucien?” Elain rubbed her eyes, wondering if she had fallen asleep after all. When she dropped her hands, he was still there, watching her warily. “I didn’t know there were guards posted on my balcony.”

Or that you were one of them. If she’d known all this time that Lucien was just outside her door while she slept, she may have come up with more inventive ways of getting them alone.

A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Your mother wanted me stationed here tonight, in case you attempted to run away.”

Elain was almost flattered that her mother thought she was capable of running away. She’d entertained the idea, and had even stepped onto the balcony earlier to scout the best path towards the gates. But it wouldn’t be like sneaking into the village, where she knew Lucien wouldn’t be far behind to bring her back. She had no idea where she would go—if there even was anywhere she could go, where Lucien wouldn’t be able to find her.

“If I ran away,” she asked, studying his face. The way his eyes surveyed her, noting the way she was dressed. “Would you chase after me?”

An odd look crossed his face. His voice was a little strained as he asked, “Would you want me to?”

Elain hesitated, uncertain of her answer. She would want him to chase her, but not out of duty to her mother. “I wouldn’t want you to bring me back,” she said. “I would want you to find me and stay with me. Like you promised.”

“Then yes, princess.” Lucien's eyes met hers. “I would chase after you, and I wouldn’t rest until I’d found you.”

Emboldened by his words, and the way he was looking at her, Elain took a step closer. “Would you let me run away now?”

“Dressed like that?” He asked, with a roughness to his voice that made her shiver. She would blame it on the cool air. Lucien cleared his throat. “I would let you, if that’s what you wanted, princess.”

She took another step, hardly believing her own brazeness. The wind pulled at Lucien’s hair, blowing close enough that it nearly brushed against her cheek.

Elain whispered, just loud enough that it would remain a secret between herself and Lucien and the wind. “What if I wanted something else?”

He tipped his chin down, casting shadow over his features so that all she could read was the rasp in his voice as he asked, “What is it you want?”

Gods, where to start? Elain took another step forward, the last of the distance between them, and returned her palm to that crest above his heart so she could once more feel the rhythm of his pulse. It was more calming than any hot bath or fresh air.

She dared herself to say it. The words were on her tongue, but still the jitter of her nerves made her hesitate. Would it be too far? It would be something no one could ever take back, something that would always be hers.

“You still owe me a kiss, Lucien.”

Lucien released a large exhale of breath. She felt the shift in his chest beneath her fingers. “Elain—”

He started to step away and Elain fisted the fabric of his tunic, tugging him closer. “Please, Lucien. I do not care about my mother or the prince. I don’t care about duty I just…” she gasped, searching his face, begging him to understand. “I need something that’s mine. I want to be touched for the first time by someone I—” love. “Trust.”

Beneath her grip, he took another long breath. Then he asked, words so precisely measured, “Do you want to be kissed by someone you trust, or do you want to be kissed by me.”

“Both,” she said, quietly. Then, feeling like a coward, she admitted, “I want it to be you Lucien. I have—” she was interrupted by breath expelling rapidly from her lungs, an exodus of her body preparing for the burden of what she was going to confess. “I have always wanted it to be you.”

Lucien could have gotten more from her, if he’d pressed. She would have confessed to the crime of loving him, of constantly making a nuisance of herself to get his attention. It was probably for the better that Lucien took mercy on her, so that it remained a weight she alone carried.

Any of his remaining reservations dropped with his hands as he grasped her around the waist. He lifted her with the same gentleness he had demonstrated earlier, spinning them so that he could set her down on the thick parapet. It left them eye level, allowing him to wedge his body between her legs and venture dangerously close. One of his arms banded around her back to steady her, while the other crept along her jaw, encouraging her face upwards.

Their eyes met as he leaned in. She could see him hesitate, like he wanted to say something. Elain surged forward, terrified it would be something reasonable, wanting to smother his logic before it had a chance to make them wiser. He groaned the second their lips met, which she took as an encouraging sign. Indeed, there was nothing reserved about the way his fingers slid and notched into her hair, how his arm tightened at her back to draw her closer to his body.

His mouth was soft, moving slowly against hers while she became used to the sensation. She liked the way he tasted, rich and earthen, like the smoke of an autumn bonfire. When he licked his tongue across her bottom lip, she parted her lips for him, shutting her eyes as her senses became hazed and overwhelmed with Lucien.

Elain clawed, blindly, for a way to bring him closer, tightening her grip on his tunic while her other hand tangled in his silken hair. Lucien’s tongue swept her mouth, rattling Elain to her bones, knowing she would never be rid of the taste of him. She was attending her own haunting, and she accepted it greedily, meeting him for every stroke. Until she was so consumed with him she couldn’t breathe.

They parted just enough to leave a space for hot, shallow breaths.

“I have wanted to kiss you,” Lucien said, low and rough and breathless, “from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Then they were kissing again, like he couldn’t stand another moment of breathing air, and neither could she. Elain scooted forward on the parapet, not caring that her nightgown was riding up, only need to get closer to him, to wrap her legs around his—

“Elain,” he groaned, utterly wrecked. The hand on her back dropped to her exposed thigh, curling beneath it to hoist her legs higher.

She felt like she was on fire when she felt his hardened crotch against her stomach. There was no sound past the rushing in her ears and the way he grunted, weak and not at all warrior-like, when she shifted against him.

“Elain,” he gasped again, still kissing her. “Elain, we can’t—“

“Says who?”

“They’ll truly have my head,” he said, pulling his lips away long enough to utter the words, only to fall back to her like gravity demanded it. “Mother condemn me, I shouldn’t want this.”

“I want it, Lucien.” She ground her hips forward to illustrate her point. “I want it more than I can breathe.”

The hand braced against her thigh was trembling. She could feel it beneath her palm, the way his heart had become erratic.

“You’ve never been touched—“

“I want you to be the first,” she insisted, before kissing him in an attempt to distract his protests, which she knew were level-headed and rational. There was no room for such things when she was sharing his breath. Not when her body was hot and aching in a way that was only familiar when she was under her bedsheets, thinking of him.

With a resigned moan, Lucien lifted Elain from the parapet and carried her back into the bedroom. Even as he moved, precariously, through the dark, they could not stop kissing. Every second not touching him was a second wasted.

Elain was certain if she had allowed him a moment to pull away, he would have laid her down on the mattress with more grace. Instead they fell in a tangle of limbs and lips and tongue. She knew little about what came next, but she knew Lucien was far too overdressed for it.

She snaked a hand beneath the hem of his tunic, feeling carved muscle and a patch of coarse hair that led beneath the waistband of his trousers. Elain pushed up, scraping her nails along his abdomen, needing to hear him moan again, to taste it on her tongue.

Strong fingers seized her wrists as Lucien swore softly under his breath.

“I want to take my time,” he said, lowering her wrist back to the bed. Lucien sat up, leaning back on his knees where they rested between her thighs. Warm fingers skimmed her legs as he began pushing up the skirt of her nightgown. “If this is my only chance to touch you, I want to do it right. I want to worship you in ways a spoiled prince could never fathom.”

“All talk,” Elain teased, growing restless for every moment that passed where his lips weren’t against hers. She tugged at his tunic again, but Lucien pulled back, laughing softly.

“No more talking, then,” he said.

In a fluid motion, Lucien slid his hands up to bunch the nightgown above her hips. Cool air pressed in, scalding her in every place her body felt the absence of his. Elain dug her fingers into the sheets, resisting the urge to fly them to her face as Lucien’s heady gaze swept over her bare legs and the wet, silken fabric at the peak of them.

She heard a breath rush out of him, like he’d been struck in the stomach. Then he fell upon her, kissing her hips, her stomach, her thighs. Where his mouth couldn’t caress her, he laid his fingers, lavishing his affection anywhere he could find, until Elain thought she might burst from the ache in her chest. She would never recover from knowing him this way.

“Lucien,” she whispered, releasing her iron grip on the sheets to replace them in his hair instead. She tugged, overwhelmed with the need to feel the heat of his mouth over hers again. “Please—”

“You said no more talking,” he murmured, hooking his fingers into the fabric at her hips. She couldn’t breath as he tugged them down her hips, apprehension building once he’d finished with the task of disrobing her and his eyes roamed back to the apex of her thighs.

Elain could feel his body slacken and, impulsively, she began closing her thighs, trying to hide the sight from him. His hands flew to her knees, gentle in stopping her.

“Cauldron save me,” he whispered, ducking his head back between her thighs. “I am a ruined man, Elain.”

She wasn’t certain what he meant, but when she felt his breath brush against the wetness between her legs, she was less inclined to ask. Nothing could have prepared her for that first lick. When she felt the first soft, velvet heat of his tongue, her hips bowed off the bed. Lucien had to press her back down, holding her to his mouth as he licked her again, a slow stripe all the way through her center.

The sound that came out of her was somewhere between a whimper and a moan, so loud that she finally did let one of her hands fly to her face, covering her mouth to prevent anyone from overhearing. Ordinarily, Lucien might have teased her for it, but he was utterly lost, his eyes fallen shut as he explored her with his tongue, groaning softly like he was the one gleaning pleasure from it.

Her thighs began trembling, held still only by Lucien’s conviction as he licked up and swirled his tongue languidly around her sensitive bud. Elain bit her hand to smother the cries begging to escape, but she could do nothing for the way her hips canted against him, silently pleading for more.

As he continued lashing her with his tongue, one of his hands slipped lower, gliding easily through the mixture of arousal and saliva. A finger teased at entering her, and she felt her heart thunder at that very first push. She felt him still, gauging her reaction intently as he slowly pushed his finger further, letting her accommodate to the sensation of having something inside her. Elain whimpered, tugging at his hair again. She didn’t want him to stop, needed to feel his mouth move against her. Lucien tongued at her clit in response, causing them to moan in tandem when her body tightened around his finger.

The more he licked, the more she relaxed, until he was able to begin moving his finger in rhythm with his tongue, coaxing a heat into her spine she had never encountered when touching herself this way. The pressure built as he slipped another finger inside her and he began rubbing against a cluster of nerves that had her seeing stars.

“That’s it,” Lucien whispered, voice roughened with lust. “Come for me, princess. Come on your guard’s fingers.”

Her entire body clenched, seizing with the sudden onslaught of pleasure that crested over her, large and inescapable as a tidal wave. She smothered a scream behind her palm, vision turning white as Lucien continued moving against her, working her through the ravaging pleasure.

She collapsed into the bed once it passed, gasping. Lucien withdrew his fingers and with a final, sucking lick that felt more for his benefit, he raised his head from her thighs to meet her eyes.

“Would you like to go to sleep now, princess?”

“No,” she whispered, reaching again for his tunic. “Not until I’ve seen you undressed.”

“So demanding, you royals,” he murmured, helping her frantic efforts to get the fabric over his head. He unbuckled his scabbard, letting his sword clamber to the ground. Then she was unlacing his trousers, staring at the swath of red hair beneath his naval, suddenly overcome with the need to trace it with her tongue. Lucien groaned. “I can’t think straight with you staring at me that way, Elain.”

“Good,” she whispered, tugging both waistbands down his hips. “It puts us finally on equal footing.”

Elain finally understood why Lucien sounded as though he’d been punched when he saw her naked for the first time. It was akin to how she felt, when she pushed the fabric past his erection and saw a man, entirely naked, for the first time in her life. He was beautiful, all golden brown skin and lean muscle. And the appendage between his legs was large—much larger than the two fingers that had been inside her.

She stared at the flushed, gleaming head in fascination, trying not to let its size intimidate her. Slowly, uncertain if it was allowed, she reached forward to wrap her hand around it, surprised to find the flesh soft and rigid. It pulsed beneath her hand, and Lucien grunted as she ran a slow pump down his length.

“Lay back,” he said, the words nearly garbled.

They were both far too distracted to relish the rare moment of Elain doing exactly what she was told. Lucien aligned their bodies, his mouth finding hers again as he began running his length through her slit, coating himself in her arousal.

“Are you certain about this, Elain?” He asked. She could feel him shuddering from the restraint of keeping his body still, prepared to seize himself if she denied him. Elain couldn’t think of anything worse.

“Yes, Lucien, I’m certain. I—” she almost said it. She wanted to say it, wanted him to know how much she cherished him. But was that selfish of her, to tell him she loved him, only to marry another man by the end of the week? A courtship and marriage that he would be forced to witness, as her impartial guard. “I want this,” she said instead.

She thought she might have seen something—disappointment, or maybe relief—flicker in his eyes. It disappeared the moment he notched his head against her entrance, just enough that she whimpered at the pressure. Lucien immediately kissed her, trying to soothe the ache of the stretch by holding her with such devastating gentleness. His hand found hers, their fingers twining as he continued sinking slowly into her body.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his breathing suddenly ragged. Elain squeezed her eyes shut, breathing through the strange, somewhat intrusive sensation. “Elain—” She liked the way he said it, like he was choking, so overcome with pleasure he couldn’t speak. “Fuck. You feel amazing. Does it—Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered, with a small shift of her hips that caused Lucien to groan.

He slipped his freehand between their bodies, expertly rolling his thumb over her swollen clit. “Is that better?”

It was answered with a buck of her hips and a small keening noise as Elain’s discomfort shifted almost immediately into pleasure. Her body relaxed, allowing Lucien to push further, until his hips were flush against hers, and there was not a single barrier that existed between them.

Lucien’s tongue swept back into her mouth, allowing Elain to taste herself on his tongue. They stayed like that for a small eternity, kissing sweetly while he continued rubbing between her thighs, letting her adjust to the way it all felt, until the pleasure began to drive her mad. She dug her fingers into his back, rocking her hips against his to urge him to move.

She could feel him smile against her mouth. “My beautiful princess,” he murmured, slowly sliding out. “Say it again, that you want me.”

He was the one who was beautiful, with his hair falling over them in a scarlet veil, his cheeks flushed and his eyes heady with desire. Elain brushed his hair away to see more of his face, hoping that loving touch conveyed all the sentiment she couldn’t yet force herself to confess. Then she used her grip on his hair to bring his mouth back to hers, kissing him again and again—feverishly.

“I want you, Lucien,” she said, breathlessly, between those awful moments where his mouth wasn’t slotted against her own.

He was teasing her now, holding himself just outside her body while he continued those torturous circles with his fingers. “So obedient like this, princess,” he broke their string of kisses to whisper. “If only I had known all this time, I just needed to offer up my cock to get you to listen.”

“Don’t be crude,” she complained, half in scandal and half in her utter desperation to feel his tongue and cock inside her again.

His hips retreated further, the smile on his lips turning cruel. “You don’t want my cock, then?”

“Lucien.”

“Say it, princess.” The fingers between her legs picked up pace, driving her to madness. “Ask me to give you my cock.”

Elain dug the backs of her heels into his backside, trying to encourage him forward. When he resisted, she whispered, “Please Lucien.” And when that, too, was ineffective, she added, “Please, give me your cock.”

That earned her another sweet kiss. “As my princess commands,” he said, thrusting back inside her.

With the combination of his fingers, it quickly spun her over an edge she hadn’t known she’d been approaching. Elain’s scream was swallowed by his lips as she shattered around him, her nails scraping mercilessly over his scarred back. Lucien groaned, continuing to thrust and work his fingers against her while hot fire burst behind her eyes, through her veins, branding her soul in a way that felt irreversible, until she was little more than the drifting ash of a wildfire.

“That’s it,” he whispered as she began to come down. “You’ve done so well, Elain.”

Lucien’s own rhythm started to stutter, and to her dismay he pulled out of her body, crying out as hot, white liquid spurted from the tip and landed on her smooth stomach. His breathing was labored as he leaned down to offer her another quick kiss, before disappearing into the bathing room. He returned with a wet cloth that he used to gently clean the majority of the mess on her stomach and between her thighs.

When he finished, Lucien slid into the bed beside her, drawing her flush against his sweaty skin. His hands raked into her hair, stroking along her scalp, reminiscent of the way he’d held her earlier that day.

“How are you feeling?” He murmured, chasing the question with a kiss to her damp temple.

“Incredible.” It was the truth, ignoring all the anxieties and trepidation that laid deeper. They grew harder to ignore the longer Elain thought of what waited for her on the other side of the dawn.

Lucien seemed to know it, because he hummed like he wasn’t convinced. “You should sleep,” he said. “You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

Elain thought again of that man from her dreams, her mind’s overwrought projection of the one she’d meet tomorrow. Not yet prepared to face him, nor the coming morning, Elain shook her head and cured her face and against his chest.

“Will you stay?”

The words were muffled against his skin, but Lucien heard them well enough to answer, “I’ll stay.”

-

Elain woke to the sound of her chamber doors being thrown open. She scrambled immediately for the blankets, pulling them up to cover her naked body. The maid’s eyes were the size of saucers as she looked towards the bed. For a moment, Elain couldn’t speak past the panic that seized her, thinking they had been caught. The maid would surely tell her mother, and Lucien would be—

Gone. Lucien wasn’t there when Elain turned, expecting to find him equally exposed. The sheets were cold, telling her he had left long ago. Seeing as it had already been late into the morning when she found him on the balcony, she wondered if he had even gone to sleep at all. Had he simply slipped out the moment she drifted off? For some reason, that thought stung.

“Your highness,” the maid said, locking the chamber door before rushing to the wardrobe. She hardly looked at the clothes she threw over her arm. “You must get dressed immediately.”

The hairs on Elain’s arms stood on edge. “What’s wrong?”

She thought, in the distance, she might have heard someone scream. Her maid came to the edge of the bed, close enough that Elain could see her red-rimmed eyes.

“Prince Koschei’s men have stormed the castle,” the maid said. The crack in her voice made Elain wonder what, exactly, she’d witnessed in her race to get to Elain’s chambers. “They are on their way up, lady. You must run.”

The world seemed to slow down as Elain stumbled out of bed, every unsteady breath scraping past the heartbeat that rampaged her throat, her chest, her shaking fingers. She frantically shoved herself into the clothes and the accompanying cloak, the hood of which she pulled over her head.

Elain headed towards the balcony, intending to take the same route to the village she had once gone before, but the maid stopped her. “They’ll be expecting you to go that way, your highness.”

For a moment, Elain wondered if she was being naive following her maid out of her bedroom, towards the sounds of clashing metal and shouting men. Maybe she had been threatened to fetch the princess, and was sparing herself some awful fate through betrayal. Her fears ebbed as they snuck into a servant’s corridor together, the sounds of fighting abruptly cut off as the servant shut the discrete doorway.

“This way,” she whispered, guiding Elain through the narrow passage, down a set of stairs. On the other side of the wall, she could hear heavy, rushing footsteps heading up. They ducked into the servant’s quarters, which was frighteningly empty.

From far away, she heard someone shout, “The princess isn’t in her room!”

“Find her!”

Elain covered a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out, trying not to let her mind wander as to what they would do once they found her. If they were already in her bedroom, had the castle guards been overcome? Was… Was Lucien—

She was pulled abruptly from her thoughts as the maid hurried Elain across the quarters, into the scullery. The back door was open, but Elain heard footsteps approaching and pulled the maid up short.

“Quick,” she whispered, pulling up a tablecloth that they both ducked underneath.

Peering through the narrow gap between the cloth and the floor, Elain could see two pairs of polished boots pause in front of the doorway.

“The princess has escaped,” said a deep, masculine voice that she didn’t recognize.

“She couldn’t have gone far,” said another. One she knew as honeyed and graveled and full of sweet, empty promises. “I know the precise route she would have taken to the village.”

Elain stopped breathing.

“Find her, Lucien.”

And that second pair of boots, the ones she had thrown dirt on just the day before, knelt to the ground and plunged a familiar sword into the earth. “I will, your highness. I swear it.”

[niennawept]

Tag Game - Fandom Edition

Tagged by @somebirdortheother, thanks so much, lovely! This was fun!

Your Name: On here, Nienna or Ni, if you please. I have 4-5 names that people regularly call me outside of that (IRL nicknames) but I prefer to keep that private.

Your First Fandom: Tolkien. Before I even knew what fandom was, I was composing fanfiction in my head about being Bilbo Baggin's niece (yes, before I read LotR, I somehow knew that he would have an adopted child because he definitely wasn't marrying a woman - A+, baby Nienna). At the time, I had no concept of what fanfiction was or what a self-insert was, but here I was, doing the thing at age 8. I think it counts, lol.

Your Current Fandom: Rings of Power specifically, wider Tolkien Legendarium also. And the thing you must know about me is I have two fandoms which are special interests of mine. 1) Tolkien and 2) Star Trek. Normally, when one is dormant, the other wakes up. So we'll count Star Trek too, even though that interest is currently sleeping (shhh, she needs her rest).

How did you first get into fandom?: Um, doomed by the narrative? My dad read The Hobbit aloud to me when I was little and then proceeded to read me LotR out loud a year later. I couldn't NOT form my whole personality around that (and Trek, which he introduced when I was 10).

How long have you been engaging in fandom spaces?: I discovered fanfiction online when I was 14. I used to write a long time ago, but college and grad school got in the way. I lurked for years (reading a couple longfics a week) but I didn't have the energy to create much myself. Adar and Rings of Power brought me out of that shell. So I guess the answer is: it's complicated.

How often do you read fanfic?: I'm almost always reading at least one longfic, although I have slowed down significantly now that I'm writing a longfic. These days I squeeze in reading one-shots because I set too ambitious of an update schedule and I'm trying not to get burnt out.

Top three characters from your current fandom?: Adar (my love), Tar-Miriel (who I am so worried about going into the next season), and probably Galadriel. I really admire how they let her be nasty enough to be credibly accused of being Morgoth's successor, by someone who would know. That's brilliant and gives her character a lot of room to grow into the Galadriel we know in the Third Age.

Have you ever written a fic for a fandom and if so, shout it out!: I do not think any of my very old fic still exists (thank the stars). But I'll link a few Rings of Power fics here (use caution, all three works are 18+):

Scars of Silver and Gold: A Second Age romance/adventure (Adar/OC) that will eventually answer the question "what is the best case scenario for Adar and his uruks that still fits within the constraints of Tolkien's legendarium?"

Until the Stars Burn Out: Set in Cuiviénen, under the light of the stars. Eren, the one who will one day be known as Adar, shares a moment of tenderness with the partner he was made for, Erenyë. (Adar/OC). Based off of "Awake, Arise or Be For Ever Fall’n"  by @dwarveslikeshinythings

Mistletoe Mischief: Christmas-themed smutty Adar/Reader fic. Modern AU.

Have you ever drawn fan art for a fandom?: I have, but I am not willing to share anything yet, because I'm just not where I want to be skill-wise.

Share a personal headcanon that you feel strongly about: Mmmm. I have many headcanons. It is hard to pick one. I'll say this: the elves that went to Valinor from the Waters of Awakening knew that some of them where kidnapped and taken but they did not see any orcs/uruks until the Noldor made it back to Middle-earth. It makes the Battle-under-Stars that much more existentially terrifying. Thinking about writing a horror one-shot about this - imagine recognizing your old friend, twisted by centuries of torture among the dead. *shivers*

You’re trying to convince a friend to get into your current fandom(s) with you. what episode, clip, or scene are you showing them?: Mmmmm. I don't think there's a clip of ROP that I can pick that doesn't have spoilers. All the parts I'm most attached to are in pretty deep.

And finally, what does fandom mean to you?: Community. Enjoying the thing you enjoy on your own is marvelous but enjoying it with other people is even better! People have such wonderful different ideas about things and that's very cool.

Tagging (no pressure, just love): @dwarveslikeshinythings, @lazymeriadoc, @bananaphanta, and anyone else to whom this looks like fun!

[lunacrescentmoon]

Crackling Hope AU belongs to me

Dreamtale belongs to Joku

Part 4

----Flaming ashes----

Dream curled up more against the wall, only then hearing the muffled voice again.

"Oh nononononononono- Dream, hey... Look at me... it's your boy- that was bad... um... It's me, Cross.... Please just... settle down...."

Cross...? Well that explained the black and red mixed with white...

Upon holding the bandage over his eye, Dream began relaxing. Cross couldn't see the true damage, so it was fine.

"There... at least you're calming down..." Cross sighed in relief, holding out a chocolate bar. "Here... I was saving it but... based on the growling I heard upon entering, your stomach needs it more..."

Dream gave a warm soft smile, eating the chocolate and beginning to feel like himself for the first time in... however long it had been...

"Wow... have you eaten at all today?"

"... When did it become today?.."

"...... Ok, elaborate...? That sentence made no sense to me Dream..."

".... I... don't know what day it is...."

"Um.... Wednesday...?"

"Right... um.... not since the 4th... which was only yesterday..."

"... Dream......"

"Yes?"

"... The 4th was last month... it's the 2nd of-"

"WHAT?!" Dream shrieked as he realised he had not only been starving himself for a month, but also sleeping all the time! How lazy was he being?!

"Whoa, hey... calm down... You're eating now...."

"That's not the point Cross...." Dream mumbled, slinking back into the corner to finish the bar. "I... um.... never mind...."

"It's alright.... anyway... um... what happened to your head?.."

Dream felt his soul sink to the floor... He knew that question was coming when it was Cross coming in....

"Uh.... I just fell down the stairs... that's all..."

"WAIT YOU WHAT?!-"

"W-w-what is a-all the commotion in h-here?" A very distorted voice called.

Dream flinched, looking up noticing Error using a portal to spy in. Dust and Killer were behind him.

"Dream fell down the stairs."

"Pffttt.... W-well, ho-how f-fun-un was that?..."

"Error..." Cross snarled, beginning to weild his knife.

"Alright, a-a-alri-right...." Error surrendered. "But... is he ok...?"

Cross seemed confused, glancing down at Dream who... had suddenly curled into the floor...? He usually was bright when the gang visited... After the split at least.

"Dream...?" Cross called gently, placing a hand on his skull where the bandage was, only to see Dream flinch harshly with his eyes turning dark gold.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!!" He screamed, curling further into the corner than before as a dark shadow appeared behind him... one blue eye visible in it...

"Sh*t!" Cross cursed at the tentacles swaying in the shadow, running to the portal and going through.

Dream panted, tears falling from his eye sockets... Why had that frightened him so much?..

He saw the shadow slowly curl around him, and he jolted, about to scream again until the black melted away, revealing white and purple.

"Shhh.... it's alright Dream..... I'm here now..."

"N-Night...." Dream whimpered, turning and hugging his brother tightly.

Nightmare glared at where the portal was, before sighing heavily and petting his younger brother...

He would make sure this NEVER happened again...

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hello there ! Could I request the player being really doting and affectionate with Malleus/Kalim/Leona ? Like this others ask where they were the player favorite before and they continue to be. Like giving them pet name, gifts and attention ect

Consider this a continuation of those:

Leona Kingscholar

Kalim Al-Asim

Malleus Draconia

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, violence, blood, murder, kidnapping, religion, marriage, manipulation

Leona Kingscholar/Kalim Al-Asim/Malleus Draconia-Continued affection

So he is still your favorite? That's great for him... at first...

Paranoia is a thing you know?

So what would a beastmen do if he was your favorite and afraid of losing that position?

Exactly! He deals “accordingly right” with the competition

What “accordingly eight” entails. Oh well...

Just a bit of violence...

A bit of broken bones...

A bit of blood...

*sigh* how can someone so lazy deal so much damage??!

But anyways, you now have a very aggressive cat as a pet... should I congratulate you for that? Probably not

Leona will make sure that no one even dares to question his position

Reggie is at that point a silent servant, not daring to talk back

And I mean silent, no friendly comments like before from him anymore

But let's talk about the fluffier part of this *sobs* otherwise this is just beating him up but shhh

Pet names, yes, please give him one or two

Might make him a bit friendlier and less aggressive

Emphasis on the might

Not to mention that our overgrown house cat likes it secretly but let's not dwell on that

If you are already in TWST and not behind a screen then gifts will also be great

He keeps every single one

Leona will also gift you stuff if you do that

But for you... Uh... not good

Even though this will strengthen your relationship this will also land you a room with locks on the door and bars in front of the windows

But no need to worry at least he will take great care of you... whilst the world burns

This sunshine stays sunshine as it seems... whilst you are there

You see, I can't imagine Kalim staying entirely naive whilst his relatives try to... uh... move him out of the way between them and the throne

So scheming is at least known to him

What does he do with it tough?

How about keeping as many as possible away so he alone can stay your favorite?

If you guessed that then great! You were right!

He will spread that you are “too mighty” to be close to anybody

Only he as a member of the Al-Asim family and heir to the throne is allowed to

What else... hmmmm

Influencing you as well!

Oh, Deuce was kinda great in the last event? Well you will never believe what he did to him!

[Insert made up lie]

Of course he can't say too much or else you will notice but... that subtle manipulation is there you know...

And he lives for the fluffy part of being your favorite

Pet names? How could he say no?

It may make him crank up the manipulation up though

Shows him that he can do more since you still trust him to a high degree

And at the same Tim it makes his chest area go all tingly, giddy and warm...

“So this is love... So this is love....” *side-eyes you to see if you got the reference*

But if you were in his world and give him gifts would not be the best thing to be honest

Firstly, he had doted on his entire life and, as mean as it sounds, do you think that self-knitted scarf means anything to him?

Oh no he doesn't try to be mean it's just nothing special for him

And he won't know what to give back even if he bought many presents for you even before you were in TWST

You are the Overseer, a few mountains of gold are probably nothing for you

Just keep the nice small talk and affection up and everything will be great

Otherwise, who knows what he will do to keep your attention and affection

*Happy dragon far noises*

If Malleus had to choose between being invited to something and being your favorite then he would yeet the first option out of the window

But at the same time, who would dare to steal you awty from him?

Yes there are still four other magicusers more powerful than him but... let's take a look at that kingdom mostly made off of faes which are ready to serve him the second he says “I want...”

But let's see what he does to prevent that this from being the scenario that happens

Malleus is well aware that he is rather (if not go say very) frightening to others

And he uses that a lot

He hears someone planning how to gain your favour?

Oh why hello? Aren't you that Heartslabyul student he heard from Lilia of? How about a small chat?

The next one who sees the poor student will not see them but a frightened poor thing which is rocking back and forth

But what if one of his subjects tries to gain your affection?

There are dungeons in his castle, just saying....

He is also not below sending Lilia, Sebek or Silver out to “visit” them

At this point it would have been better if you just saw him as another character...

Couldn't it have been, idk, Deuce? He isn't a nuclear bomb in fae version!

But let's not talk about possible future world-ending-scenarios and start talking about the fluff, ok??!

Pet names are a must

Just do it, it lets a poor soul see the light of another day simply because of Malleus good mood

It might not be good for you though

Unlike Leona Malleus doesn't just have a “special room” prepared in his him but also the dorm

The God forsaken dorm! For Cheesus sake!!!

But onto presents...

Great choice if you plan on becoming his prisoner... *cough* sorry misspoke darling sooner

In the end every road leads to eternally ruling his beloved Valley as his significant other

How would a wedding between a God and a person in their world look like? No seriously, I want to know. What the heck would one leading the ceremony say instead of all that God-talk??!

Look at that dear, they are all waiting for you to marry him! Don't say no now! You brought this over yourself!

[daandyli0n]

IM HERE IM ASKING ABOUT UR DSMP AVIANS AU okay so like when u mean avians im assuming human-bird hyrbids like we see with grian and phil and sometimes tommy and quackity but what kinds of birds r everyone?? does everything in canon still apply the same way or are some things altered to better fit their new bird characteristics???? And do u have any new, altered design ideas that you'd like to show or describe? ???? :DDDD

yep! bird-human hybrids!

i haven't got ideas for all of the dsmp characters yet, but here are the ideas i have so far:

Non-Avians:

slime (he's still a slime, he just shapeshifted some wings on himself to blend in and look more normal (since most of the server's members are avians of some kind))

techno (he's a totally normal immortal human who's just. kinda Here)

antfrost (still Cat)

those aren't the only non-avians, but they're the only ones i have ideas for atm

The Members (Who Are Avians) That I Have Ideas For:

tommy- Mourning Dove (listen. the Symbolism. mourning doves aren't Just symbols of sorrow and grief (which...yeah), but also for peace, love and faith (religious c!tommy hcs, anyone-))

tubbo- Eurasian Golden Oriole (this one is purely for the Vibes)

ranboo- Black-and-White Warbler (again, Also The Vibes)

wilbur- European Starling (partially for The Vibes, but also cause I just think it'd look nice (also, I know according to lore that c!wil is apparently from utah, so him being a European Bird would make no sense lore-wise, but shhh-))

sally (because yes, she's here as well)- Osprey (water bird, they live near water (like the ocean), and i hc sally to be a pirate)

dream- Loggerhead Shrike (my thought process behind trying to find a bird for this guy was basically 'what sort of f**ked up bird would fit with this guy?' then i remembered shrikes. y'know, those birds that impale their prey on spikes? that are also SONGBIRDS? look, the vibes fit Way Too Well for me. also, i discovered that loggerhead shrikes can be found in florida! :] also, a fun fact! shrikes are actually Also hunt other birds :) take that how you will)

punz- Peregrine Falcon (every time i try to think of a bird for this guy, my brain keeps screeching 'F A L C O N')

phil- Crow, but the wings still have those diamond shape things that are on his cape (i think this one's a bit obvious)

fundy- Raven (look, hes both descended from The Angel of Death and has prophetic dreams. it fits for me)

eret- Lilac-Breasted Roller (Very Colorful. eret deserves to have a very colorful bird. seriously, look them up, they are The Rainbow As A Bird-)

purpled- Violet-Backed Starling (...guess)

hannah- Rosefinch, Specifically one of those Very Pink Rosefinches (...pink, also is literally called a ROSEfinch-)

niki- House Sparrow (i looked up german birds and house sparrows came up. look, i'm trying-)

sam- California Condor (okay, so! i looked up vulture symbolism, right? well, along with death and all that, vultures are also symbols for seriousness, protection, intelligence, and resourcefulness. plus, these guys are Big, and isn't c!sam canonically like, over 7 feet tall?)

quackity- Mallard Duck (look. Duck)

jack- Robin (Vibes)

foolish- Golden Eagle (big bird, and also...y'know..Golden. Eagle. just. the pun (cause his character is like a totem. which looks like it's made out of gold. look this one was partially cause my brain thought it'd be funny))

that's all i can really of for characters atm. but now!! facts!! about the au!!

so! life stages for avians!

-Hatchling: basically from birth to 5 years old. wings have little-to-no feathers

-Fledgling: 6-8 years old. wings have Down Feathers. fluffy :]

-Featherling: 9-13 years. at this point, the actual feathers start coming in! featherlings now have the ability to slow their falling and glide! no flying yet though :(

-Flightlings: 14-Adulthood. they start learning to actually fly now! at the beginning of the smp, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, and purpled fit this description!

so yeah, as you said, certain plot points have changed due to most people being, y'know, Part Bird. basically, people can actually fly around now! birb instincts!! CHIRPING AND OTHER NOISES!!

sally is here because Yes. she drags wilbur off to therapy post-nov. 16th. she is 110% done with both dream and punz's bs at this point. she just wants to protect her flock, man >:/

wing clipping is. unfortunately still a thing. i mean, from what i've looked up, wing clipping isn't exactly Permanent-Permanent. like, the feathers will eventually molt out and new feathers will grow in. it's only be really permanent if someone were to keep doing it, y'know. every time the feathers come back. so...there's that! still doesn't mean it's absolutely horrible for avians though

dream has clipped the wings of at least three server members. you can probably guess who at least One of those people are and what arc it was during

fun fact! while it's still pretty bad for a non-avian to clip the wings of an avian, it's Still not seen as being as bad as when an Avian clips Another Avian's wings. because. y'know. that's actually viewed as being Incredibly F**ked Up! on Several Levels!

y'know what? if you want, i'll make another post specifically about Exile and the Avian Au Specific F**ked Up S**t that happened there

so...i've heard of like this 'death spiral' eagles do when they mate. however, my brain came up with an interesting idea for that in this au! what if was more of a...fighting move? like, one avian grabs onto the hands of another avian and just starts trying to get them both to spiral to the ground? you know, as a way of killing each other? basically, they spiral until one is finally on the bottom. obviously, the one who hits the ground first dies.

...so, fun fact based off the above point! sally actually did that with punz in this au post-final control room! basically as a 'f**k you for killing my flock'

...well, she didn't exactly win that one. but the point is that she tried and was angry enough to do that

tommy Really Really does Not like people touching or being around his wings. At all. if he lets you be around his wings-or even lets you Preen them-then that's him showing a major sign of trust on his end.

that's all i've really got for now! but yeah, i've put a lot of thought into this!! i'm proud of myself for this!!

[shokobuns]

green light.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

GENRE: angst, smut, gatsby au

WORD COUNT: 2.9k+

WARNINGS: smut (17+), angst, major character death, size kink, unprotected sex, implied overstim, praise

NOTES: this is for @erensbunny's collab! thanks for betaing @mitsuluv <3

Miles away from your own household, there’s nothing and no one.

Only a flower field that stretches beyond the horizon, the hues of orange and purple in the sky, round sunglasses and a picnic blanket. It’s miles of pink and green, far from family fortune, far from status, far from your own obligations. Places like these were too few and far between, but it doesn’t matter because life hasn’t started and there was nothing to tie you down just yet.

He interlocks his fingers with yours, bringing the back of your hand to his lips while you giggle, staring into his cerulean eyes. Your sundress stops at your ankles, ruffles following down in a pattern, and his button up fits loosely around his torso, the first few undone revealing his pale chest. His other hand comes up to caress your cheek, causing you to pull the brim of your hat down to hide your face, but he swats it away, wanting to admire your flushed cheeks.

The sunset perfectly illuminates your skin and while there was nothing to separate the two of you just yet, there will be something that does. And so, he treats every moment as if it was the last, memorizing the creases of your face when you smile, the pearls complimenting your skin, the sound of your laughter. You, on the other hand, don’t think much about what’s to come. Because for right now, you feel too much love, too much to the point where it clouds your thoughts of the future.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Satoru.”

A small phrase that can only be uttered when you’re miles away, a place where it is just you and Satoru and you and Satoru only. And while you can fall into the rabbit hole of what they would think and what they would do and what might happen, you can also enjoy the way Satoru kisses down your neck, how he gently lays you down on the floral picnic blanket and hikes up your long dress.

A bright past and a dark present.

Both of you are miles away, yes, but not together.

Satoru faces the dark present in which you’ve slipped through his fingers and into the arms of Naoya Zenin. The dark present in which you have it all, a husband, a daughter, and a house to call your own while he is simply just a lonely man in a large, empty mansion. Even when he can see the green light flashing just across the bay, you still feel far away.

Despite the distance, he’s thankful that he gets the chance to see you at all, watching his neighbor and quickly introducing himself as the owner of the house. It was one party after another after another after another and at this point he’s lost count of how many dollars were spent on this single hope—the hope that you’d show up someday and he found it in his new neighbor.

You still remember that night that you ripped off your necklace, gorgeous and costing hundreds at the least, the pearls clattering on your hardwood floors, a tear stained letter—it was all so vivid. Drowning in your own sorrow and missed opportunity, the stench of alcohol on you and your bedsheets, it was not a night you would like to remember. Mostly because it reminds you of what you could have had and stirs up feelings of regret that makes you sick to your stomach every time you see your husband.

His face, chiseled perfectly and flat hair, sharp eyes and soft lips. When you wake up in the mornings and see his face, it only brings you disappointment. But the sound of your daughter’s feet pitter pattering through the hallways somewhat makes up for it. She doesn’t look like him and you thank whatever higher power is up there that she doesn’t. With wide set eyes and chubby cheeks, you only wish her an easy life where she can do the same—be a fool—but this time, with a man she loved.

Cradling her in your arms made the dark present not so dark. And your younger cousin being nearby only brightened it up just a little bit more.

What a lovely boy, inviting you over for tea. You had missed him in the years he was gone and it would be nice to escape the house once in a while. With a simple purple dress and pearl earrings, you’re out the door and into the car. After a silent fifteen minute drive, the driver stops in front of a quaint cottage, lively green grass and flowers growing along the little columns. The area surrounding his house is perfectly neat, trimmed, and organized. Already, you can tell the interior would be pleasing to the eye.

Megumi comes out of the house, politely walking you to his door and keeping you dry as the rain poured down onto the two of you. Just as you expected, the interior is just as beautiful, varieties of flowers on almost every surface, the colors complimenting each other. You stare, admiring the whites, the yellows, and the pinks of each petal, thankful that your little cousin went to such lengths for a small visit.

“Did you ransack a greenhouse, Gumi?”

He’s silent, still at the door, but you hear a small chuckle. “You know, it’s funny.”

“What’s funny?”

Just as the words leave your mouth, there’s a knock on his door and goes up to answer it. You go back to admiring the flowers for a few more seconds, but you feel a presence behind you and turn around only to be met with a man in a white suit, matching his newly styled hair, blue eyes piercing through you with an intense gaze, his sunglasses in hand. You’re frozen in place and your feet are unable to lift from the ground, but he takes a few hesitant steps towards you, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“Well, I’m certainly glad to be seeing you again.”

With that, he smiles, “I’m certainly glad to be seeing you, as well.”

“It’s… beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. But how do you live here all alone?”

“I don’t. It’s always full of interesting people.”

Every single shrub is neatly trimmed, water flows gently in the fountain, flowers blooming in the garden. The mansion is huge, too big for only one person, and pristine on both the inside and the outside. The first place Satoru takes you is out on the water where you sit by him, a drink in your hand, Megumi taking pictures of the scenery and the people around him. He holds out his hand for you to hold as you try to steady yourself on the float, a drink in one hand and the other holding onto his shoulder.

“Smile.” You hear Megumi say, but you’re far too busy with Satoru tickling your sides, squirming as he coos small teases. The camera clicks, capturing the both of you in the moment.

When he brings all of you back inside his home, you’re in awe of the sparkling chandelier hanging from his ceiling, the gold lining the walls of the second floor, the sturdy architecture, shiny black and yellow floors. It’s a contrast from what you would have expected from Satoru who was once a humble soldier, plucking from your bedroom in the night and bringing you to a faraway place just to escape. You were once ready to accept the reality that status set the two of you apart, but now you wonder if it even is an issue.

But you’re old money and he’s new money.

How did he acquire all of this? His house? His clothes? The entirety of his wealth? You’re not exactly sure, but you don’t let your mind wander, opting to run up the grand white staircase, getting to the second floor only to be met with a black floor so spotless that you can see your own reflection. Along with Megumi, he follows behind you, watching every single movement and every single expression on your face. Eventually, he catches up next to you, motioning for you to follow him into a room with a single bed and another small set of stairs, rambling about where he gets his clothes.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” You reply, excitedly looking around the room where there’s countless shelves, all full of fabrics. “They’re so beautiful.”

He smiles at you from above, beginning to pull the clothing from the shelves and throwing them down for you to see. You giggle, a wide smile plastered on your face as different pinks, whites, and purples take over your vision. “Satoru, you’re gonna ruin them!”

He’s careless, letting half of his wardrobe fly out in the air and you struggle to catch them all, falling over into the bed. You’re elated, the variety of clothing making you squeal in delight as you jump onto the mattress, sitting in the middle, surrounded by fabric of different patterns and colors. You’re buried in them and he doesn’t stop until the sound of your laughter starts to die down. His chest fills with concern as he races down the stairs to comfort your disoriented figure on the bed.

Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, sliding down your cheeks and soon you feel his fingers come down to your chin to turn your head towards him. Although, you avoid eye contact, not wanting to confront the reality that it’s been five years. “Hey, shhh,” he coos, his voice softening, “What’s wrong, bunny?”

It’s a loaded question and you already have the answer in your head, on the tip of your tongue, but the more you think, the more you realize that there isn’t a right way to express it to Satoru. A daughter, a husband that you supposedly love, a life supported by old money. Five years away from the love of your life only for him to randomly appear back into your life during a time of stability. And even with your vague knowledge of Naoya’s mistress, you’re the perfect wife for him, foolish and obedient.

But still, your heart is drawn to Satoru—it always has been and it always will be.

“It— It makes me sad…” you reply with a meek voice, “The shirts… they’re just so beautiful.”

He chuckles, kissing the side of your head.

“Fuck! Satoru—” you squeal, his leaking tip prodding at your slit. It’s all familiar, but it doesn’t make it any easier to take him. After five years apart, you forget how big he is, veins running down the side of his pretty cock, long and heavy against your inner thigh. You’ve already lost how many times he’s made you cum on his mouth, your overstimulated cunt aching for more.

“I got you,” he mutters, rubbing your pearl in lazy circles as he pushes in, slowly filling you up inch by inch, “S-So big—”

‘“Yeah?” he coos, maintaining a bruising grip on your hips, “I’m barely halfway in. Just hold on, bunny.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face as he tries to distract with more kisses on your cheeks, gently brushing them away with his thumb. Your hole stretches to take him, splitting in half until you feel his tip kissing your cervix. His mouth latches onto your breast, his hips moving in slow strokes, his hands rubbing reassuring circles on the side of your thigh. “Such a good bunny,” he praises, “Pretty girl.”

“Mhm,” you squeak, feeling him as he starts to fasten the pace, wet squelches echoing throughout the entirety of the bedroom, “I- I missed you.”

“I missed— fuck!— you,” he replies, groaning at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. A string of drool connects his mouth to your nipple, drunk on your pussy, becoming more and more mindless as your cunt sucks him in. The pain of him stretching you out subsides, replaced by the heat building up in your lower tummy. His cock drags against your gummy walls, his fingers interlacing with yours as he fucks into you, juices flowing from your folds down to the white sheets.

“Say you love me,” he whispers against your lips, your eyes half lidded and mind empty, “Please…”

Your eyes open only slightly, making out cerulean eyes with blown out pupils, your own fingers threading through messy white hair, “I— I love you,” you reply, your mind hazy with lust, “Fuck, give it to me. Satoru, please—”

He kisses your bottom lip, knowing exactly what to do, his thrusts becoming harder and erratic, warm skin slapping against yours, balls tightening as he gets closer and closer to his high. His cock is covered in milky white and your grip on his hand tightens at the same time he can feel you squeezing around him like a vice, the coil snapping in your tummy. He brings his lips to yours, swallowing your moans.

“Hold on for a little while longer, bunny. For me, alright?”

You nod as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before fastening his pace, pounding against your cervix at a rapid speed. Drool spills from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolling back as the knot starts the build once again, your mind going numb as he blows his load into your swollen pussy, squeezing the plush of your hips.

“Love you,” he murmurs in your ear at the same time you’re ready to doze off, your post orgasm haze taking over you, “So much.” He continues, kissing your head.

“I love you, too,” you respond as he turns you to the side before interlocking your fingers together. It’s calming, it feels right and every moment eases your mind off the lost five years between the two of you. “Would you run away with me if you had the chance?”

You’re not sure if your mind is clouded with lust or if it was the feeling of finally being cherished by a man you wished you married or if every sense of rationality had already left you, but in a heartbeat, you respond easily.

“Yes.”

He presses his lips against your bare back before the both of you doze off together in a dreamless sleep.

It all feels surreal.

The last time you see Megumi, he tells you about the emptiness of the mansion, the vines growing against the walls, how the once trimmed bushes are now overgrown and you ask him to stop talking. As much as you love your little cousin, a mention of the house was just another reminder of what you could have had. It only fills you with regret and guilt.

Naoya kisses your head, but it’s not the same.

While you have your daughter to take care of, your husband to serve, it’s only natural for your mind to wander. It’s only natural for your heart to ache, your stomach to turn, your fists to clench. There’s too many questions of what if or what could have been. Would Satoru still be alive if you had followed through? Would you be happier? Did you make the right decision?

But once someone, anyone, walks into your room, reality hits you like a truck and you’re back to where you’re supposed to be. And your life isn’t horrible at all because when you snap back to reality, you snap back to green grass, the finest silks, and the pearls around your neck. You snap back to the perfect family, a strong husband that can protect you, a beautiful daughter that can live a simple life. It’s all old money, acquired not by bootlegging or running a speakeasy, but passed down through generations. While things aren’t perfect, they nearly are.

Still, what if you had taken your daughter with you, living in that huge mansion where the floors are spotless and gold lines the walls and ceilings?

Day by day, it eats at you and when moving day comes, it doesn’t get any easier. Maybe you weren’t cut out for this life—one where you had to worry about your status, one where you tied down to your family. Maybe you were perfect for it, overthinking each and every single problem that five lost years had caused you. You would forget about him one day, at least you think you would.

But you still remember cerulean eyes so clearly, round sunglasses, a pink tint on pale cheeks, soft lips, tousled ivory hair. And it hurts you every time because even after life, the image has a tug on your heart. He didn’t ever get to hear your last words to him, you weren’t there to comfort him, you didn’t even bother to attend his funeral. Megumi knows not to mention him around you, too. He keeps his filter on, processing his grief on his own.

Satoru reaches out to the green light across the bay, too afraid to go there on his own, but the hope of seeing you once again fuels the fire in his heart. He goes through the trouble of sacrificing his money and his time, replaying old scenes of you in his head and is thankful that he even made it this far, that he was even this close to calling you his. He reaches out one moment and he’s gone the next.

And the green light simply guides boats to the dock. It’s all it does anymore.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my work on other platforms.

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

For the ask meme, “Please don’t be scared…”

I really liked bringing this AU back.

Joey had been a man who made terrible mistakes, but he was also a man who did everything in his power to fix them. Even when that meant that he had to take down the gods themselves, gods that even he could admit he didn’t know or completely understand.

‘The raven king’, some of the locals called it in hushed tones, ‘The lord of hurricanes’, ‘The living wrath of the heavens’, ‘The maestro of the storms’, The one-legged animator had heard these titles and many more that the beast had earned from its tyranny, and he was not at all phased by any of them as he continued to hunt it down in spite of some of their protests.

Was he insane? Maybe so, “Sane men” typically don’t invest as much of their lives into the occult as he did.

Was he stupid? Not in the slightest, he came prepared and knew just what he had to do to catch the beast, and just in case that failed, he had a back-up plan; a necklace that ‘locks’ up the wearer’s magical abilities.

Why was he going out of his way to go against a god that revels in human sacrifice? Cruel god or not, it was undoubtedly a raven, and normal ravens and wolves help each other out in the wild, so why would supernatural ravens and wolves differ?

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

It wasn’t until he came across the beast’s nest when he realized that he had neglected the reality of his situation for too long.

As he expected a bird known for hoarding and liking shiny things to do; the Raven king’s nest was decorated in gold, silver, jewels, and anything that was even remotely shiny or pretty by bird standards, it almost reminded him of a dragon’s hoard but with a ton of things that a human would disregard as garbage.

But it was also decorated with corpses. Human corpses, sheep carcasses, a few bears, and many other unlucky critters. Some had long decomposed into skeletons, some were rotting away while being eaten by fungi and maggots, while others were so fresh that they were still warm to the touch.

It reminded him that this was not a game, that one wrong move could make him into both a meal and a decoration. But for Henry, he was still willing to gamble with those odds.

Armed with a fair amount of traps, fire, magic, and his own wits, the beast put up a valiant fight, Joey often just barely missed losing either his head, torso or another limb when scanning the forest for the beast’s knife-filled beak.

The cat and mouse game between the two grew more and more intense until Joey aimed his shotgun towards an old tree the beast flew by it and...

*BANG*

*CRRAAACK*

With a terrifying screech, the monster was pinned underneath the tree, howling like mad and frantically flapping its still free wing to get out.

And with each shaky step the animator took towards the now trapped beast, he saw that it was so much more than just a raven puffed up to colossal size that allowed it to treat men like worms.

Up close, the monster was even more beautiful than Joey had ever imagined. Its feathers shined in the moonlight with a iridescent sheen that made every treasure in the beast’s nest look like cheap plastic in comparison and its eyes shone like rubies.

But he couldn’t just sit there and gawk at the creature while it struggled to free itself, pulling the necklace out of his pocket, he sat on a branch of the fallen tree that held him down and began to put it on the confused, thrashing beast.

“Shhh! It’s okay...” He soothed the raven and patted its beak while it fearfully cawed. “Please don’t be scared...”

As Joey finished fastening the necklace around the raven monster’s neck, to his confusion, the beast appeared to be... molting?

It was getting smaller and smaller until it slipped out of the tree prison with ease, but it didn’t get far. Its feathers came off in large clumps, showing tanned, human skin underneath. In a matter of minutes, where a giant raven-like monster that was hailed as a god had once stood, there was a confused, frightened, and angry looking naked man starring at his hands with his mouth agape.

The equally confused animator fidgeted with his bow tie as the former raven king continued to disapprovingly investigate his new form.

“Oops..?” Joey sheepishly offered, not knowing what else to say to the clearly distressed new human.

He got an icy glare in return, followed by the man trying to bite his nose off.

[theshy1sout]

Inseparable - Chapter 11

Tags: Not Rated, Slow Burn Fluff, Broppy, Trolls Mythology Au

Ao3 is here

Notes: Ok, so in the last chapter were some plot holes or more like understatements, but let me work on them later. There're many chapters before us, there will be a time for fixing them, but now, back to some fluff :3

________________________________________

It's time. Poppy is bouncing with excitement, the huge grin doesn't leave her fave. She's all happy. She's all one ticking bomb waiting to explode. 

- I'm scared now - Branch chuckles, watching as she's almost dancing. - What is this surprise? Is this something erupting from the ground or... How big is it?

The goddess giggles with genuine joy in her melody voice. She looks at him with sparks of thrill in her eyes.

- Bigger than you thought! - She beams. And then she reaches for the Staff. - Calm down, it would be great!

- I hope so - He throws, twisting his face. He hesitates to give her the Staff. - I know it’s ridiculous, but I'm really stressed, this is overwhelming, you don’t have to...

- Nah nah nah, shhh - She puts her finger on his mouth, making him freeze. She looks deep into his eyes, and says slowly with a calm, quiet voice: - It won't kill you, ok? It's a surprise. A gift. All you have to do is just follow me and watch. Easy?

The god blinks when her finger lets go of his lips. He takes a deep breath, keeping his eyes on her.

- Easy - He breathes out, nodding slightly. 

She smirks at him and finally grabs the Staff of the Light, taking it from his hands. The world slowly fills with shades of red and pink, birds start their welcoming-the-day serenades. Branch gazes tense at the sky, waiting for a huge loud explosion or something like that.

- Where should I look? - He asks.

- Just sit here and wait - Poppy says. She starts opening flowers' cups on the meadow. - And watch the sky. It will come slowly and smoothly, the first part hasn't got a big entrance or something.

- The first part? - Branch chuckles. - Maybe I shouldn't have asked how big it is, but how long it is.

The goddess of the Day smiles, not stopping her work. The blue god knows he is supposed to watch the sky and wait, but it is so easy to be distracted by her.

 Poppy gently opens every little or big flower cup. She touches them so carefully to not damage any of the sensitive pedals. The Staff shines gold in her hand, its Light brightens her rose complexion. Her hair looks so soft and majestic in its golden glow. He wonders how it would feel to sink his fingers into it. And her tiny, twinkling freckles... He wishes she would let him count them all, one by one. The touch of her smooth, warm skin was so delightful…

 Not like his. His skin is always cold. He all is cold. But when Branch's with her it's not that bad. Especially if she gives him a bit of her warmth... How is she doing that? Her smile makes his heart gets warm, he feels warmth, a real one, inside him, and it's like nothing else in this world, it is something so addicting, he wants more and more of it, but he's scared of asking. It's like a little fire inside him, a little fire that he wants to burn him one day or night, he wants to be burned by this fire and he doesn't know why...

And this pink beautiful lady, this gorgeous brisk woman, this sunshine dancing with the flowers on the meadow, this spotless gold heart and a bright, pure mind, this cute smiley face and two sparkling eyes, she... She's here. With him. She's giving him a gift. She likes him and likes hanging up with him. It is so hard to believe. But it makes him feel so good. 

- I told you to look at the sky! - Poppy laughs girlishly and sound. Her cheeks turn red when she notices he's staring at her. 

Branch smiles as he feels his face gets warm and probably purple. He used to get shy because of it, but he kinda starts liking it. Like, a lot.

- Guh, you got me! - He chuckles and lifts his arms. - I'm busted at adoring you. What a shame! I should've known that you're not the sky! 

The goddess actually blushes even more after those words.

- It's also kinda your fault, you were interrupting the sky - The god smirks. Oh my goodness, maybe this is cruel, but it’s so satisfying to see her like that. 

- Stop it! It's you who is supposed to be red right now - She giggles, sitting down next to him with the Staff in her hand.

- Why?

- Just look at the sky, you dork!

He chuckles and listens up. And now he's wondering how he could not notice that. How could he not notice that the whole sky, the whole frickin sky, the whole existing horizon...

Is BLUE.

Blue. Clear beautiful azure. Not milky white as always. But blue. The exact same shade that his eyes have. Blue. Azure blue. He even doesn't notice that his mouth is open wide until Poppy closes it with her hand.

- Now, I should say - She catches his sight and shows him a sweet smile. - How much I like sinking into your beautiful azure eyes.

He has no idea how his face looks right now. His mind just stops working, his sight gets lost somewhere between the sky and Poppy's eyes and smile. He tries to gather his thoughts. 

- I... don't know what to say… - He breathes out, after a while.

- You don't have to say anything! Aren't you the god of Silence?

He spits a chuckle.

- I am

- Branch, I just want to show you that... - She looks down a bit shyly. - I adore you as much as you adore me. I... - She sinks her fingers into her hair. - You know, it's this weird, funny feeling...

- Yeah - He smiles at her, grabbing a strand of her hair that falls on her face. He puts it behind her ear and lets his hand stay a bit there. - I know.

She's smiling, but not this huge, wide sunny smile she has when she gets excited, but a little, gentle one, much more similar to the smiles he does, a cute one. His thumb moves slightly through her warm cheek. Her face is so small, his hand cups almost half of it. It is so weird and so enjoyable that she likes it, but he lets go of her face. He lets go, fearing the desire in his chest, the desire to never let go of her warm soft skin. 

Poppy's sigh of delight is such a pleasant sound, another thing he can't get enough of.

- Are you ready for the next part? - She lifts her eyebrows with a smirk.

- I don't think so - Branch smiles.

- Well, you have a break now, I have a few things to do, and then the Midday and... you know - She shrugs her shoulders. - Responsibilities. But after that, I'll show you one more thing!

- And I will be following you whole this time like a creepy ghost - He jokes. - Maybe there is something I can help with?

Poppy gets her eyes up and twists her face as she's thinking.

- Well, I can find something for you.

* * * 

- After the first part of the surprise - Branch screams to be hearable in the loud sounds of rain. - I've imagined the second one much different than that!

They are wet, they are so wet. But the feeling of uncomfortableness fades with the sweet melody of Poppy's laugh.

- It's kinda prolog of it! - She yells at him. - We have to wait until the end of the rain!

- Yay! What fun! - Branch jumps and waves his hands, pretending that the situation is really enjoyable. The goddess laughs. It is the only reason he's still here in the rain. He raises his arms, tilts his head back, closing his eyes, and roars with displeasure. Cause this is displeasure. He stays like that. He drops his arms, but his face and hair are facing the droplets with all of their wetness. The tepid water is flowing over his whole cold body. The calming hiss is in the whole forest. He feels like the water cleans his mind leaving nothing but the sound of the droplets’ hits and the warmth of the rain.

- Actually - Branch murmurs. - It's quite pleasant.

After a long nice moment, when the rain lets go a bit and becomes a drizzle, the god hears Poppy's voice calling his name.

- Look! - She points at something in the sky.

He glances at it and gasps. There is a big hole in the grey clouds, with a clear, bright azure shining at the Land. And below it... a long translucent colorful ribbon streams from it down to the forest. The seven colors of it are so clear and beautifully illuminating against the background of grey rainy clouds. Mesmerizing bright colors. Wonderfully clear and pure. Strikingly splendid and simply gorgeous like a tender smile. Branch forgets about the world for a minute. He can’t take his eyes off it.

- I called it 'a rainbow' - Poppy says with pride. - It was so hard to design and to make. But Satin and Chenille, you know, the twins' goddesses of Beauty, are two geniuses! They helped me a lot. But sadly, a rainbow appears only in the drizzle. It's made with a mix of tiny droplets and Light. So I asked Trollazart to make it rain today - She chuckles, looking at the wet god. - I'm sorry.

He stares at the rainbow in Silence. She isn't sure if he adores it or gets lost in his thoughts. But the Silence is way longer than ever was.

- Umm, Branch?

His lips vibrate slightly as if he wants to say something, but he hesitates.

- What if - He starts really slowly and now Poppy is sure his mind is somewhere else. - What if we make an endless source of drizzle?

She frowns.

- When water falls into another water from a high height - He explains, showing the thing with his hands. - It makes a drizzle around. So if we create something like... A river falling from a height in the sunny place...

- It will make a drizzle and rainbow in it all the time! - Poppy gasps. She jumps excitedly. - Branch, it's so genius!

- Let's do it right now - He says, looking around to find the nearest river and starts walking quite fast. Poppy runs after him, bouncing slightly with joy. Are they going to make something together? Oh, this day is so fun!

When they arrive at its shore, the rain stops pouring. Poppy puts her hand into the water and calls the god's name. After a few seconds, the navy face, slightly illuminating violet, shows up from the water and two, big eyes gaze at them curiously.

- Hi Synth! - Poppy beams at the smiley god of rivers.

- Hi Pops! Hello Branch! - He cheers. - What's up, my fellows?

- Can you make a river for us? - Branch asks. - We need a river that will be falling from a high height in a sunny place.

- Crazy! - Synth yells. - I like crazy! Come with me!

And he dives into the water, disappearing.

- Umm, Synth? - Poppy calls him once again. 

His smiley face immediately shows up from the water. Again.

- Yes?

Branch clears his throat.

- Oh - The river god realizes. - I'm sorry. Let's go on the Land!

And with that saying, he steps on the ground.

- Do you know a place where you would like to see your river? - He beams at them both, putting his hands on his hips.

- I think I know a good place - Poppy replies and shows the direction.

When they come there, well, what to say more, it is a perfect place for their idea! The cliff is in the beautiful, sunny area, wild horses pasture nearby on the steppe. Synth calls the water from the Ocean and after an hour a brand-new river is ready and beautiful, streaming through the field. They call the place where it falls a "waterfall". 

- I give this beauty the name "Lora" - Synth announces. - I don't know why, but this river looks exactly like Lora.

- Sure - Branch nods, not getting. - Thank you for creating Lora for us.

- You're welcome! - The god salutes. - If you want something else, you know where to find me! - He throws, diving into the water of the new river. 

- Bye! - Poppy waves him goodbye.

- Ok, come here with the Staff of Light - Branch asks her.

The goddess comes close to the waterfall. She feels the fresh drizzle on her face. They both glance at it and gasp happily.

The rainbow appears above the water's surface.

- It's so beautiful! - The god is amazed. She never heard such a swoon in his voice. - I mean, the colors are so clear and vivid...

- Yeah - Poppy smiles.

They stare at it for a long while, just adoring its beauty. At the very same moment when the goddess wants to suggest that maybe they could sit down here and spend a bit of time together, the god jumps up with saying:

- Guh, it's so inspiring. I have a huge idea - Branch turns to her. - Can I keep it as a surprise?

Poppy looks at him kinda confused.

- Well, yes, of course!

- Then, I'm going to make it - He says, walking away.

The goddess of the Day stands very still, close to the waterfall, watching the smaller and smaller silhouette of the god of the Night on the horizon. She imagined that they would be sitting somewhere, talking about anything and just enjoying each others' company, as always. But now? She is just shocked. Only one, simple word, filled with surprise and disappointment, slips from her lips.

- What.

___________________________________

Index

[camillemontespan]

everything’s coming up roses [AU one shot. drake walker x camille montespan]

Warnings: NONE! NONE AT ALL! THIS IS SHEER FLUFFY GOODNESS!

@moonlightgem7​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @ibldw-main​ @loveellamae​ @mskaneko​ @katedrakeohd​ @burnsoslow​ @dcbbw​ @sirbeepsalot​ @pug-bitch​ @notoriouscs​ @rainbowsinthestorm​ @pedudley​  @gardeningourmet​ 

**********************************

Drake ambled through the city streets looking for the right kind of flower shop. He wasn’t good at flowers; he didn’t know the best kinds or which ones survived better, but his sister had been on at him to do something nice for their mother. Bianca was feeling low at the moment and Savannah had tried everything to cheer her up but to no avail.

‘Please do something,’ she had begged Drake on the phone the night before. ‘I know you don’t live near us anymore but maybe send her a card or flowers. Anything.’

Drake settled on sending his mom flowers. Only now was he regretting this idea. He had no clue what to look for.

He found himself in the West Village on a tree lined street filled with independent bookshops and bakeries. His heart jumped; this looked promising. He took out his phone, went to maps and typed in ‘flower shop’, praying there would be one nearby. There had to be. This looked like an area with a flower shop.

One result came up and it was round the corner. Fantastic. Feeling like a good son, Drake walked quickly down the street towards the flower shop called Lily & Luna.

************************************

‘Hana, can you water the roses round the back please?’ Camille asked as she checked off her to-do list. 

‘Sure thing, lovely!’ Hana said happily. She was always enthusiastic which made her a joy to work with. She rushed outside with the watering can.

‘And Max, we’re expecting an order of peonies today at 2pm, can you sign for it?’ Camille continued, looking up at the lanky man who was standing at the top of a ladder. The ladder was shaking precariously. Maxwell was trying to water the flower baskets that hung from the ceiling without falling to his tragic death. 

‘Yup, will do boss!’ he called out. Camille abandoned her list to quickly move to the ladder so she could hold it in place for Maxwell. She couldn’t risk having Maxwell end up in A&E again. 

The door opened and the tinkling sound of the bell trilled, announcing a customer.  Keeping her hands on the ladder, Camille leaned around Maxwell’s legs to see who had just entered. 

‘Be with you in a moment!’ she said. 

The customer, who was just finishing scuffing his shoes on the doormat, turned around to look at her. Camille swallowed. The customer was the most handsomely rugged man she had ever seen in her life. 

His dark hair was tousled, giving the impression that he had just rolled out of bed.  He was as tall as the door and broad chested, with his denim shirt emphasising the vast expanse of chest and muscles that corded through his arms. He had kind eyes and that was what made Camille’s heart begin to beat just a little faster. 

He blinked, his eyes roaming her face. ‘Hey there,’ he croaked. 

****************************

It turned out that florists were beautiful. That was what Drake realised as soon as he saw her. She was half hidden by her colleague’s legs - her colleague looked like he was going to fall off the ladder at any moment - but her face had been in full view and Drake decided that florists were beautiful, just like the flowers they sold.

She tentatively left her colleague on the ladder and made her way across to Drake. ‘How can I help you today?’ she asked.

Drake’s throat was really dry. Really, really dry.

‘Uhhh… I need, uh, flowers,’ he said lamely. He cleared his throat. ‘Please.’

She smiled warmly. Drake felt his legs practically buckle.  His eyes quickly studied her; she had a name tag that told him that her name was Camille. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she wore a yellow silk scarf around her head. Her eyes were brown with gold flecks, like an owl; gorgeous eyes. She was wearing a denim dress and white espadrilles. Drake liked the denim dress because it matched his denim shirt.

‘Do you know what kind you’d like?’ she asked. 

‘No idea,’ Drake admitted, smiling ruefully. ‘Can you help?’

Camille grinned and gestured for him to follow her around the shop. It was a small place with wooden walls painted duck egg blue. Flower baskets hung from the ceiling and on every surface stood pitchers of flowers. Roses, daisies, peonies, lilies, sunflowers. The space was a kaleidoscope of foliage. Above the counter hung a driftwood slab that had ‘Lily & Luna’ painted in curly handwriting. 

‘Who are the flowers for?’ Camille asked.

‘My mom,’ Drake said, blushing. Camille grinned. 

‘That’s really sweet,’ she said. ‘Is it her birthday?’

‘Nah, she’s just been feeling blue so I wanna do something for her,’ Drake told her. ‘Flowers might cheer her up, you know? She lives in Texas so she’s pretty far away.’

Camille’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she looked around at the vast array of flowers on display. Her eyes settled on a pitcher of sunflowers. 

‘I always feel that sunflowers are the best flower to cheer someone up,’ she said softly. ‘They’re a happy colour and the way they are open to the world.. They are uplifting.’

Drake nodded. ‘Okay, can I send her sunflowers?’

Camille blinked. ‘You don’t want to look at other options?’

Drake shuffled on his feet and placed his hands awkwardly in his jean pockets. ‘Sunflowers were your gut instinct,’ he said. ‘And I trust your expert opinion.’

Camille looked down at the floor, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. Drake smiled now, watching her as she absentmindedly reached out to stroke a sunflower petal. Camille then looked up to smile at him. 

‘Sunflowers it is,’ she said. ‘Now, do you want to write a card?’

‘Sure,’ Drake replied. He followed Camille to the counter where she brought out little cards and a pen. He looked down at the card and tried to think of something to write. Eventually, he settled on ‘Keep smelling the flowers. Drake x’

He handed Camille the notecard; their fingers brushed. The blush appeared on her cheeks again, much to Drake’s amusement, and he watched as she took out some brown paper and a yellow bow. 

‘Shall we go for five?’ she asked. 

‘Sounds good,’ Drake said. Camille selected five sunflowers and placed them together. She wrapped the brown paper around them. 

‘Ooh, do you want to add some greenery?’ she suggested. ‘It will give the bouquet more body and fill out any spaces.’

Drake agreed to greenery. He also agreed to lavender stems because at this point, he was willing to say yes to everything Camille suggested.  Soon, the arrangement was prepared and looking pretty. 

‘Where are these being sent?’ Camille asked.

‘Walker Ranch, Applewood, Texas,’ Drake recited. 

‘Great,’ Camille said. ‘We’ll get these delivered to your mom, they should arrive within 2-3 working days. If you can give me your contact number in case there are any issues, that would be great. How do you want to pay?’

It turned out buying flower arrangements was really expensive. As Drake paid an obscene amount of money while trying his best not to cry, he wished he had just stuck to sending his mom a card. But as Camille handed him her business card and gave him a bright smile, Drake knew he would spend all of the money in the world just so he could see her again.

**********************************

When Drake left the shop, Maxwell let out a whistle. His eyes were wide like saucers as he looked down from the ladder at Camille.

‘He was fricking hot!’ he squealed. ‘Oh my God, he was so into you! Please tell me you’re gonna call him!’

Camille rolled her eyes. ‘He’s a customer who left his number for our records,’ she said seriously. ‘Not for me to pick him up!’

‘But he was gorgeous!’ Maxwell cried, climbing down from the ladder. ‘If you don’t, I will! I’ll take him out to dinner for steak! He looks like a guy who likes steak! And beer!’

‘Max, you don’t like beer,’ Camille said, smiling despite herself. 

‘I’d like beer for him,’ Maxwell replied wistfully. He now had a faraway look on his face; Camille knew he was thinking about Drake’s muscles.

‘Back to work,’ she said briskly.

‘Uh, funsucker,’ Maxwell sighed. ‘I’ll go on a coffee run for us.’

‘You’re only going on a coffee run so you can catch up with him!’ Camille called out but Maxwell didn’t hear her as he bolted out of the shop.

*****************************

‘Baby, my flowers are gorgeous!’ Bianca told Drake on the phone a few days later. ‘Stunning! They’ve made me smile so much. How sweet are you?’

‘It was nothing, mom..’ Drake mumbled, blushing at the praise. 

‘Shhh, of course it is!’ Bianca said. ‘They’re taking pride of place on the dining table. Thank you, baby.’

Drake smiled. He liked making his mother happy. He should do it more often. 

A thought formed in his mind. Maybe he could? He could send his mother flowers once a week! Sure, it would be expensive but when it made her happy, who cared? And he could go back to Lily & Luna again. He could see Camille again. She could become his official florist! Maybe his official girlfriend - no. No. Too far. 

******************************

The following week, Drake took three subway rides and walked fifteen minutes to get to the flower shop. Yes. It was very much out of his way, especially since after a more extensive Google search back home, it turned out that there were four flower shops in Drake’s neighbourhood. But he didn’t want to go to those. 

He entered the shop and was greeted by a gasp and the sound of a jug dropping to the floor. Drake moved further inside to find Camille’s colleague on his knees, hastily drying the wet floor. He was bright red.

‘Sorry, sorry, be with you in a second!’ he shrieked. 

Drake shrugged and began to peruse the flowers. He was heavily aware of eyes on him; the florist on the floor was watching him. 

‘Oh, hi Drake!’

Camille entered from the back room and joined Drake in front of a vase of peonies. ‘Didn’t expect to see you again. Is everything okay?’ she asked. ‘Your mom liked her flowers, right?’

‘Oh, she loved them!’ Drake reassured her. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not here to complain. I’m here to buy her some more flowers.’

The smile that spread on Camille’s face was enough to warm Drake’s heart. She clapped her hands excitedly. ‘Ooh amazing!’ she cried. ‘Okay, so sunflowers again?’ 

‘Actually, I was thinking something else,’ Drake said. ‘These are pretty, what are they?’

‘They’re peonies,’ Camille told him. ‘They’re gorgeous.’

‘I’d like to send my mom those,’ Drake told her. ‘With greenery added, of course.’ He said this with a wry smile. 

Camille grinned and picked up five stems of peonies and some greenery. Drake followed her to the counter where she handed him a notecard for him to write a message. Drake noticed that her colleague was fussing near him, examining a vase of roses while inching closer to Drake. 

‘She’s lucky to have a son who cares so much,’ Camille said softly. ‘I think it’s really sweet what you’re doing.’

Drake shrugged. ‘Just doing my duty, Camille.’ 

Camille’s cheeks turned pink when he said her name. Drake smirked and handed over his credit card to pay for the flowers to be delivered. ‘I’ll be back next week,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to turn this into a thing.’

Camille nodded. ‘See you next week then, Drake.’

Drake smiled, keeping his eyes on hers for a long moment before he gave her colleague a nod. He left the store feeling lighter. 

‘DID YOU SEE HIS SMIRK?! GOOD LORD!’ Maxwell suddenly shouted, deafening Camille’s ear drums.

*********************************

And so this continued for the next four weeks. Every week, Drake visited the flower shop and every week he bought flowers for his mother. He would chat to Camille while he was there, listening as she told him about her favourite flowers, enjoying the excitement in her voice. For fifteen minutes every week, they would get lost in talking, forgetting that they were meant to be professional. Drake loved listening to her. He loved watching her face light up and her hands move quickly as she spoke. She would skip from one flower to the next, telling him weird and wonderful facts about them. Drake could listen to her all day. 

‘Sorry, I’m geeking out!’ she said to him. ‘I just love flowers.’

‘I think it’s cute,’ Drake told her. ‘I love how passionate you are.’

Camille heard Maxwell swoon from the back corner where he was watering shrubs. She smiled at Drake; they were standing close together, examining a vase filled with roses. 

‘Roses are for couples, aren’t they?’ Drake asked her. 

She frowned. ‘I wouldn’t say that… sure, traditionally, they are. But I’m sure your mom would love them.’

‘Have you ever been given roses?’ Drake suddenly asked. As soon as he asked her the question, he regretted it. Why had he asked her something personal? 

Camille bit her lip. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been sent roses.’

She sounded quite sad about that. Drake wished he hadn’t said anything. He was about to respond when Camille clapped her hands and gestured for him to follow her to the other side of the shop. ‘Look at these lilies,’ she said quickly. ‘What do you think of these?’

The change in subject was abrupt. Drake went along with it but as he chose to send his mother lilies, his mind was still on the idea that Camille had never received roses before. 

******************************

The next week, Drake went by the flower shop and looked in the window to see if Camille wasn’t there. He couldn’t see her, which was good for him, as he had a plan. He entered the shop to find her male colleague and a female colleague talking at the counter in hushed tones. 

‘Oh, it’s you!’ the guy called. ‘I’ll get Camille, she’s just on her lunch break-’

‘Actually, I want to talk to you,’ Drake said quickly. He looked at the name tag on Camille’s colleague’s chest. 

‘Maxwell,’ he said. ‘I’d like your help.’

Maxwell turned pink. His colleague was studying Drake curiously. 

‘Camille hasn’t received roses before,’ Drake began. ‘Can I buy her some?’

Maxwell blinked. ‘Uhh, sure?’

‘You like Camille?’ the girl beside him asked. Her name tag said her name was Hana. She was smiling. 

‘I, uh, do, yeah,’ Drake said awkwardly. ‘She’s been so nice to me and it broke my heart a little when she told me she had never gotten roses.’

‘Her ex boyfriends sucked, that’s why,’ Maxwell told him dryly.  Hana elbowed him in the ribs. 

‘Okay, what roses do you want to give her?’ she asked.

‘Beautiful ones,’ Drake said. ‘The best ones in the shop.’

Hana and Maxwell guided him to the roses in the corner of the room. White, pink, orange, red.  Drake didn’t realise roses came in different colours. Who knew?!

‘So, which ones do you like?’ Hana asked him simply. 

‘The red ones,’ Drake said, pointing to a full bouquet. ‘Red is the best colour, right?’

‘Oh my God, you’re such a marshmallow..’ Maxwell whispered.  Drake chuckled, embarrassed, but he had to agree. He was a secret marshmallow.  Hana picked out the red roses and took them to the counter. 

‘Want to write a card?’ she asked. 

Drake nodded and took the card she handed him. His heart was hammering in his chest and his throat was constricting; Camille made him feel things. She made him feel nervous. But in a good way.

He deliberated over what to write then settled on something simple.

For the girl who deserves a rose garden. Drake x

Maxwell took the card from him and quickly scanned the words; his eyes widened. Drake held out his credit card and paid for Camille’s flowers. 

‘Make sure she gets them as soon as she’s off her lunch,’ Drake said. ‘I hope she likes them.’

********************************

‘OH MY GODDD!’ Maxwell and Hana screamed as soon as Drake left. They jumped up and down, pulling each other in for hugs. The noise disturbed Camille who had been enjoying peace and quiet outside. 

‘Guys, shhhh!’ she scolded.  

They whipped around to face her, their eyes wide with excitement. Camille stared at them. ‘What?’

Maxwell cleared his throat and pointed to a bouquet of red roses on the counter. 

Camille sighed and reached out to pick up the roses. She was aware of Maxwell and Hana’s eyes fixed on her.  She opened the notecard and her heart flipped. 

‘He.. he bought me roses?’ she murmured.

‘YES!’ Maxwell shrieked. ‘He was just here! He came in, said he wanted to buy you the most beautiful ones, the best ones in the shop! Camille, please, marry him! MARRY HIM!’

Camille read the note once more, unable to stop the happy smile from spreading on her lips. She felt.. Peace. Joy. Hope. 

She had loved seeing Drake every week. He put up with her constant geekiness about flowers; he listened to her; he made her laugh; he talked about his mother; he talked about Texas. He was funny and kind and interesting. He was thoughtful. He had bought her roses.

Camille went through the customer records to find Drake’s number. Leaving Maxwell and Hana, she stepped out of the front of the shop and dialled his number. 

‘Hello?’

‘Thank you for the roses,’ she said softly. ‘They’re beautiful.’

He chuckled down the line. ‘I can’t believe you’ve never been given roses.’

‘Well, now I have,’ she told him. ‘Thank you.’

There was a silence until Drake broke it. ‘Can I take you out to dinner tonight?’ he asked, his voice nervous. 

Camille felt her heart skip and leap and dance. 

‘I’d love that,’ she said. 

‘What time do you finish work?’

‘6pm,’ she said.

She could feel Drake smiling down the phone. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘I’ll pick you up.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ she said, unable to stop herself from smiling.

‘Maybe I’ll bring you some more roses,’ he teased. Camille let out a throaty laugh and shook her head.

‘One bouquet is enough!’

Drake chuckled. ‘No it’s not,’ he said. ‘I’m gonna give you a whole rose garden, remember?’ 

Camille blushed as red as her roses.

[aaaa-mpersand]

OCtober Day 6: Luxury

Thank you @oc-growth-and-development for the prompt, as always. This is three bros, two of them roasting Pacific Rim to hell and back. I’m a big fan of this movie I swear. This is a continuation of the Exy AU, following Finley (from OCtober Day 2: Mercy). He’s in a new team, and he doesn’t need friends, they disappoint him. Very Regrettably for Finley, the friends don’t agree. Fluff with some mild angst at the end. We stan found family. Kaspar and Finley are my characters, Mantis/Margot is @statistical-improbabilities character. I also named dropped @statistical-improbabilities Mya and @carry-on-my-wayward-brain Dusk.

“This is absurd,” Finley said, watching the robot on screen slam a cargo boat into the monster’s face with a deafening crunch. 

They were sitting on the floor of Kaspar’s room, rough carpet under their legs, Mantis’ laptop in front of them as an action movie flashed on screen. Finley watched the big robot slap the godzilla-like thing repeatedly in the face, only for the creature to grab them by the tail and rip their boat-made-baseball-bat into half. He vaguely wondered, not for the first time that night, how he’d even gotten here. 

“I don’t know about that,” Kaspar said, a tub of ice cream in his lap as he put another spoonful of it into his mouth, never taking his eyes off the screen. “It looks pretty realistic to me.” “Please,” Mantis said next to him. Or Margot. She’d introduced herself as the former, but Kaspar used the latter almost exclusively. Finley had simply avoided calling her by name. “I’ve seen Green Lantern movies with better CGI effects.” “Touche,” he said, but didn’t sound the least bit insulted. He ate another scoop of ice cream. With a certain degree of fear, disgust, and strange admiration, Finley saw he was almost done with the tub. “Shhh, guys, the next part is my favorite fight scene.”

Mantis fell silent, so Finley turned back to the screen. The monster was now playing hide and seek with the robot. How anything as tall as a skyscraper managed to hide, even in a metropolitan like Tokyo, was beyond Finley’s comprehension, but he’d never been to Tokyo, so he stayed silent. 

A flashy action shot of the monster, oh so surprisingly, ambushing the protagonists. He let the lights flash from the screen as he thought about what had gotten him here. After spending hours on schoolwork in Mantis’ room, he’d been dragged along to dinner with the two of them. Kaspar suggested they all go to his room to relax before he and Finley went to the gym to do extra practice that night.

Finley hadn’t been pleased. 

“Come on, Finley, a little fun never hurt anyone,” Kaspar had said. When Finley had stared back, wholly unconvinced, Kaspar merely smiled fondly and rolled his eyes, as if he’d seen that same look hundreds of times before. “I’ll stay an extra hour to help you on overhead drills.”

“Dusk or Mya are going to get there first,” he muttered, but followed anyway.

Finley watched the monster beat its previously unnoticeable wings and lift the robot into the sky. Tension was supposedly rocketing as fast as that 500 ton beast could fly, which was apparently a thousand miles a second. He was owed a lot of overhead drills for this.

When the protagonists looked like they were about to die, all hope lost, the solution was found in a dramatic twist. The robot fell unceremoniously to the ground from an altitude of 50,000 miles above sea level. Everyone was unscathed. 

Kaspar paused the movie.

“Thoughts?” he asked, a smile playing on his ice-cream coated lips as he glanced over at Finley.

“If this movie wanted any shred of my respect, they should’ve both died right there,” Finley said. Despite the fact that he knew Kaspar had a good temper and couldn’t kill a fly, he glanced over to watch his reaction.

“Exactly what I’ve been saying,” Mantis said. Finley blinked in surprise “At the very least, the whole Jaeger should’ve fallen apart. It was way too big to have gotten out of that with just scratches.”

“Yeah, but then it wouldn’t have been as cool,” Kaspar said, leaning back lazily. He seemed completely undisturbed by the fact that both Finley and Mantis had been insulting what he had introduced as his ‘favorite movie of all time’ for the last hour. Mantis, who had evidently watched it a few times already, had said something sarcastic, but sat down to watch it all the same. 

In the last 57 minutes, she’d pointed out the main male lead’s horrible haircut, roasted his fashion sense, and cut into three major worldbuilding flaws. Finley joined her cringing, covering his eyes like a vampire in sunlight, when the female lead accidentally walked into the male lead’s room while he was shirtless. “Proper physics is cool,” Mantis said. She reached for the bowl of popcorn, and popped a few in her mouth, before washing it down with an energy drink. Finley didn’t want to know what that tasted like. “This whole thing doesn’t make any sense,” he said, irritably. 

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” Kaspar asked. Finley glanced at him. He seemed relaxed. Happy, even, with a content smile on his face. “Everything. Why are giant robots the best weapon in this scenario? They’re going to be rebuilding that place for years with the footprints it left on the roads, let alone the infrastructure damage. Second of all, how do the kaiju keep following the scientist guy around?” “Because he mind-melded with them,” Kaspar said, “The Kaiju are a hive mind.”

Finley snorted. “Why the fuck would anyone mind-meld with a hive mind race of monsters?” 

Kaspar shrugged. He tapped his spoon against his chin for a moment, thinking. “Science?” He said, almost to himself, and turned to Mantis questioningly. Finley pulled a look so skeptical he could’ve made Newton doubt whether gravity was real. Mantis, however, thought only for a moment before she nodded, “Science.”

“This is stupid,” he huffed. “To quote,” Mantis pointed out, matter-of-factly, “it’s either the most awesome dumb movie ever made–” 

“–Or the dumbest awesome movie ever made,” Kaspar said, almost gleefully, as he pressed the play button. Finley sighed.

He stayed for the rest of the movie.

---

He waited for Kaspar outside the dorms while the other man was grabbing his things to go to the court to practice. It was late by now, the sky ink black save for the few stars visible through all the light pollution. Cold wind made the chilly temperatures just that much colder. Finley waited under a street light, his things all ready, a change of clothes, water bottle, and a pair of gloves in his gym bag. With a sigh, he unzipped it, pulled out the gloves. They were black and maroon––ravens colors––and the only pair he had. 

He wrapped his arms around himself. Though years of playing exy had even him lean muscle, he was still scrawny, and not the biggest fan of the cold. Glancing at the door of the dorms, he waited. The two hours he spent watching a dumb action movie indoors would’ve been a luxury unheard of in the Ravens. Siobhan had never been a fan of movies, anyway, so there would’ve been no one for him to watch it with. For that, he was almost grateful; the movie hadn’t gotten better in the second half. 

Still, the image stayed in his mind. Kaspar and Mantis, exchanging quips and inside jokes. Mantis didn’t glance over for his reaction when she criticized the protagonist’s haircut to hell and back. When she had run out of her energy drink, Kaspar had promptly pulled another one out and passed it over to her. 

He tried to picture himself and Siobhan in those shoes. Finley didn’t have a favorite drink, and what Siobhan said was never a joke. 

But they had stood next to each other for so long. A menace on the court, the two of them. An impenetrable defense and an unstoppable offense. It had never been perfect. Admittedly, nothing in The Ravens had been, but still, he sometimes tried to find Siobhan’s triumphant grin on the faces of his new teammates. Her iron will in Kaspar’s eyes when he swung his racquet.

He sighed, staring up at the night sky. In another life, perhaps, though he doubted that concept was anything more than an impossible wish. “Hey, sorry that took awhile,” Kaspar said, stepping out of the dorms. He had obviously rushed, his shoelaces untied, and the horrible orange color of his hoodie clashing with the gold and red of his Trojans track pants. 

Finley merely huffed, and stalked down the path without him.

[thestraggletag]

Indulgence!AU, Part 3

Anon prompted: IndulgenceAU Prompt, "It wasnt your fault."

Also lots of people prompted a variation of: Belle wakes up.

Part One and Part Two.

It happened suddenly. One moment he was close to dozing off, a copy of the Washington Post about to slip from his grasp and the next he felt her fingers twitch against his on the hospital bed. He was wide awake in the blink of an eye, his surroundings going tits up for a second or two before everything righted itself.

“Belle? Darling, can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered open and close several times, a grimace of pain passing across her face as she became aware of her body. He saw panic flicker across her expression next, sudden and raw. 

“Shhh, sweetheart, look at me. I’m here, darling. Everything’s alright.”

He stood up, disregarding his ankle’s protests, and bent over her, trying to look reassuring. He had a five o’clock shadow, his hair was greasy and his shirt looked rumpled to the point that he thought no amount of dry-cleaning could possibly salvage it. But when she focused her eyes on him- so impossibly blue, how had he forgotten that?- relief washed over them. It was sobering to see such trust, to have someone look at him and feel instantly safe.

“There you are, sweetheart.” His smile was tremulous, but real. “You’re in the hospital. You’re alright, the doctors told me you’re gonna make a full recovery.” His accent was so thick most people wouldn’t have understood him. Belle always could, though, even when he sounded like he had never left the dodgy part of Glasgow. “I’m gonna go get the doctor and he can tell you more, alright?”

It was easy to locate the doctor. The nurses bent over backwards to track him down the second he’d left the room. He took a look at the monitors and, to his credit, spoke directly to Belle in a voice that wasn’t condescending or self-important. He explained about her blood loss and collapsed lung, and didn’t rush to extubate her, rather pausing to explain exactly what he was going to do. She reached out blindly for his hand and he complied at once, snarling at the stupid nurse who attempted to shove him out of the way. Clearly a newbie on the ICU, one that he hadn’t put the fear of Gold into yet.

“I’m gonna need you to cough, Belle, okay?”

The extubation was brief but excruciating. Belle held tightly to his hand as the tube was pulled out of her throat, her body convulsing, her gag reflex telling her to throw up food that she didn’t have in her stomach. The nurses fussed over her, cleaning up her mouth and propping her up slightly so she could breathe easier. He tried not to smile like the cat that got the canary when Belle shrank away from them and cuddled up to him instead. 

“Alright, now that you’re breathing on your own we’ll be moving you soon to medium care, get you a nicer room. Your prognosis, barring any unforeseen complications, is very good. There will be some scarring from the stab wounds, so later on we can arrange for a consultation with a plastic surgeon, if you wish. There’s a lot that can be done, nowadays, in that department. Please feel free to call if you have any other questions.”

He didn’t linger, nor did the nurses, for which he was grateful because as soon as the door closed behind them, he found himself sobbing uncontrollably. He tried to hide it at first and when he couldn’t he attempted to gently extricate himself from Belle. She would have none if it, though, gently holding onto his arm and making shushing noises as best as she could. This, somehow, seemed to make him cry harder. He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair and muttering over and over that he was sorry, so sorry. He had done this to her, it was his fault, all his fault.

“Hey, hey.” Her voice was little more than a raspy whisper and her laboured breathing meant she had to pause quite a bit between words. “None of that. It’s not your fault.”

“Do you even remember what happened?”

She went silent for the longest time, to the point where he wondered if she perhaps had no memory of her assault. Finally, though, she nodded.

“Jones. I remember.”

She was going to hate him, he realised, once he told her. Once he explained why Jones had attacked her, how it had nothing to do with the business with Regina. She would hate him and there would be no way to repair that, no-

“He told me. About Vera. And you.” She made a strange little noise of disdain. “He talked a lot. Stupid.”

He recalled Jones liked the sound of his own voice a little bit too much for his own good. He had no doubt Belle had encouraged him to monologue like a cheap movie villain, in the hopes of gaining some time. Clever lass.

“It’s not your fault. It’s Jones and Regina’s. And mine. I should’ve told you.”

She should have, but he could not bring himself to think about that right then, lest he get angry.

“I’m sorry, Nick.”

She sounded tired, physically and emotionally. He knew he was little better. Things could wait, he decided. Talking and reflecting could wait.

“I’m sorry too.”

She yawned, eyes fluttering shut and body going lax in his arms. He needed to do so much. Call her father, who had perhaps landed already at JFK. Call Mal, for sure, unless he fancied a stiletto to the eye. Start looking into plastic surgeons specialising on scar removal. And call his PI to see what he had uncovered about Jones and his many associates. He needn’t do the deed, not with someone as low as the Irishman. All that he needed was to find some unsavoury character with a grudge against him and see to it that they were informed of his whereabouts.

It could all wait. He hadn’t been able to properly hold her because of the tube and the ventilator. And he might not get the chance again, given the uncertain status of their relationship. So he pushed all thoughts aside and reclined further against the mass of pillows behind him and closed his eyes for a bit. Belle was alright. That’s all that mattered.

[jafndaegur]

Darkest

So this is a special little project I have going on as a gift for my lovely @mrs-han. It’s a christmas present (shhh it’s a novella) called for now IRtL, and this is a sneak peek debuting the first chappie. Historical fiction gets me so excited!!! Enjoy!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Darkest

A MysMe/Jumin Han Historical!AU

South Coast Castle – Gyeongsan-do, Joseon – 1873

Glaring red light blasted into the air as the western side of the palace flared into a torrent of flame. The light flashed and in brilliant ways, all mostly terrifying, vermillions and oranges dazzling as Jumin staggered out of the palace’s library. He had been reading about the magics of the old kind from long before even Goryeo’s dynasty when the commotion had first started. The beginning was innocent enough—rush and bustle, faint hissing and arguments of the servants. Nothing to really catch his attention. Until escalation.

The handmaid Jaehee could be heard crying out for his father while his personal soldiers Hyun Ryu and Saeyoung were barking out orders to the guards. By then his curiosity had piqued and he—along with the scholar accompanying him, Yoosung—inched toward the front doors.

Bless the stars watching over them, because as they had crept forward, the inner wall exploded into a blast of debris, smoke, and fire.

Now Jumin found himself pulling Yoosung out of the rubble, the doors having fallen on top of the poor boy. While the prince was above most things, he was not going to ignore the needs of his people. Raising his wrist to his nose, he tried to block some of the smoke with the sleeve of his gangsapo. He was lucky that the thin layers of the translucent material housed the heavier quilted fabric of his dallryeong. Never in his life had Jumin been so grateful for the heavy noble’s clothing. As he coughed into the cloth, he covered Yoosung’s face with his free sleeve.

“Highness,” the young scholar wheezed. “We have to get out of here.”

Jumin nodded and together they shuffled out into the front walkway. The smoke and dust did not clear up any better once they escaped outside; it hung low and lazily meandered out into the atmosphere in thick bulbous clouds. The world around them trembled, them watching as the main complex warped into a spiral of hot orange and yellow flames. A pit in Jumin’s chest sunk as he realized his father had been holding counsel there. Against Yoosung’s protests, he sped off in the direct of the explosion, only to directly bump into Hyun.

The soldier’s crimson eyes were crazed, and his long hair torn from its band. His face was sooty and ashen, and his gaze narrow and his cheeks tearstained. He tucked Jaehee close to his side with one hand, sword drawn and at the ready in his other.

“My prince!” Jaehee stumbled and tore at his overcoat, the gangsapo nearly ripping from her frantic grasp. “My prince, we must go!”

Jumin shook her. “Where is my father?”

“Please, my prince, we have to go!” She pleaded, not relenting in her grip.

“Where is my father?” Jumin demanded, his pulse racing in his throat.

A firm hand gripped his wristed and he glared at the pale soldier.

“We don’t have time for this,” Hyun growled, tugging the unwilling prince after him. “The revolutionists got ahold of him and they’re out for your blood too. Saeyoung and his brother, as well as several guards, went to retrieve him. But there are far more angry armed peasants out there than there are of us.”

Jumin dug his feet into the ground as Jaehee pushed him from behind. “I am not leaving without my father,” he snarled, voice lowered and guttural. “We cannot leave him behind.”

“Contrary to what you think, there are two groups for escape.” The soldier pulled harder on the prince’s arm. “One for you, and for the king. Should they succeed in retrieving our lord, he will be taken east where he can be hidden.”

“Then where am I going?” Jumin snapped, finally yanking his hand free.

Sighing in exasperation, Hyun rested the hilt of his sword on his shoulder. “Also east. To that muddy piece of land that our lord won in the gambling match with those stupid American explorers.”

There was a twinge of ire that struck through the prince’s chest. “The one across the ocean? In the Colorado territory?”

“The very one.”

“Absolutely not.”

“This time, my prince, I don’t have to listen to you,” there was a smirk on Hyun’s face. “These orders are direct from your father. If ever a time of danger, we are to get you to safety.”

“I will not go,” Jumin ground through his teeth. “I will not leave my father, and I will not leave my people.”

Jaehee sent a panicked look to the soldier who in turn shrugged.

“How noble. But remember it’s the same people who are trying to put down your father and you, my prince.”

Jumin opened his mouth to say something only to find he couldn’t speak. Or move for that matter. He had no control of his body.

Yoosung withdrew his hands gingerly from the two acupuncture needles sticking out of Jumin’s neck and shoulders.

“I don’t know how long those will hold him,” The scholar fretted, twisting his hands nervously. “They should be fine, but they’re not my best. Hopefully it should give us long enough to get him to the beach front.”

Hyun pat the boy on the back with proud praises. Jaehee wiped the soot off his brow and thanked him. Jumin tried to force himself to reach out and strangle the scholar.

Incapacitated, the prince could do nothing as his servants snuck his limp body around the burning palace grounds. They made it to the stables where Hyun was able to untie a pair of young horses. They wouldn’t make it far on such inexperienced mounts but none the less he was tossed onto one of the horses, swung over Hyun’s lap while Jaehee and Yoosung situated themselves onto the other.

Darkness and ash swallowed them whole as they slipped away from Jumin’s ancestral home at the South Coast Palace and into the dark forest around the premises. The soldier dutifully guided them through the woods, but even still all the grotesquely overgrown foliage caused the mounts to stagger. By now the royal firelight behind them had petered out into a toasty warm glow, and it casted an uncomfortable heat across their backs—as if it knew and cackled with absolute delight that they were fleeing. Blood red light from the waxing moon above them scattered the forest from dark to grim, everything dyed as if steeped underneath a crimson lens.

Jumin pulled at himself, tugging the stupor that numbed his limbs and mind. He wanted out of this damned forest. Out of this strange imprisonment within himself. He gasped and swallowed tightly, feeling as if thousands of strings had twined themselves around his neck.

“Bear with it a while longer, my lord,” Hyun’s voice wobbled with an uncharacteristic tenderness. “We will be approaching the shore within the hour.”

Had they rushed through the night? They must’ve pushed the horses to their absolute limits. Jumin refused to sit still like a good child—he had done that enough his whole life.

“The pins are wearing out, Hyun!” Yoosung cried out. “They’re definitely not my best—they’re too fragile. But they were all I had with me!”

The soldier cursed.

“Ride ahead of us!” Jaehee called up, hitching her grip on the reins suddenly. “You’re the fastest rider out of the three of us. Get him to dock. By now the leaders of the revolt will have noticed the prince is gone. We’ll divert the searchers if we can.”

Jumin tried to roar out his disdain.

“My lady…” Hyun started before pursing his lips and growling. “Good luck.”

She nodded. Yoosung shouted a tremulous farewell. They disappeared into the ruddy haze.

Jumin could only watch them fade away. His neck was still held taut by those invisible strings. Immobile.

Once the soldier pushed the horse faster, he breached breaking point with heels dug into fleshy sides. The sun crested over the horizon, over the woodland canopy, they reached the coastline. Dirt turned into sand and trees became cliffs. Gulls shrieked overhead and the tide pounded along the shore.

Jumin’s fingers and toes twitched.

Hyun wove their way down the cliffside to the beach where a pair of large wooden boats were pulled ashore.

A man stood between the two vessels, his mint colored hair glittering in the near morning light from underneath his gat. Over his arm he held a dark cloak hemmed with gold. Had he escaped too? Had Jihyun made it away from the people at his estate? Whatever the case was, it didn’t matter. The wilted look Jihyun gave them once he noticed their approach told him everything. Jumin felt his stomach drop, and he tried to scream.

“My lord,” the soldier greeted, drawing the horse up to a slow and weak trod.

“Hyun,” Jihyun responded before walking to Jumin. He laid his hand on the prince’s head and gently patted the top of his hair—before untying the gat and the top knot. “Make sure you cut your hair on the ship, old friend. The Americans are not privy to people with long hair.”

Hyun huffed.

“Safe travels, Jumin,” Jihyun’s face, such a normally familiar and friendly beacon, looked fallen and grey. “People are afraid right now. What has happened was no fault of yours or your father…just the world around us. Never yours Jumin. People are afraid of the unknown encroaching on us from both the east and the west. They have acted out against you in response. That is all.”  He turned to the soldier. “The finest navigators are aboard your ship along with enough rations. They will surely get you across the ocean. You will dock at a small port city in California called Los Angeles. We have set up correspondence with our American informants there, the son of the one who gambled his land to our king. He goes by Leq. All the officials here, however, call him the Cowboy. Choose whatever name you will search for him by.”

Jumin couldn’t see it, but he was sure his retainer agreed.

“I will travel along the shore towards Daegu, make it seem like I am trying to escape to the farmlands and country that way. Surely they will think Jumin is with me.”

“Be careful, my lord,” Hyun said slowly, leading the horse up the gangway plank onto the ship. A small crew was already preparing for launch.

Jihyun smiled and waved.

Able to at least squirm now, Jumin opened his mouth to yell in disagreement. To say that there would be another way. Instead those strings pulled tighter and his voice died in the back of his throat. His goodbye solidified in his voice box as Jihyun turned and boarded the other ship.

The morning sun crested completely over the azure waves of the ocean, dashing the world around them with blanched bright light.

[you-andthebottlemen]

55 - AU request: Peasant Van part 2

Hi everyone!! New day, new post and it’s a fun one! My first AU in a while. Now today I am frantic as I am flying back home (yaaay love 24hr long haul flights rip) and will be crazy over the next little while with Life Things and getting used to normality after so long away (is this what Van feels like?) so I hope you enjoy this one and that it will tide you over until my next post. For anyone who has sent a request recently: I promise I have gotten them and started working on them. Love you all, hope you’re doing okay xxx 

Based off this request:

i’ve got no clue if this has been asked before but... is peasant van/princess reader part 2 a possibility? where she gets out of that tower and gets her cottage and her kids and her love-filled marriage and everything she’s dreamed of? because to be honest, that’s exactly the kind of story i need right now (your writing is class by the way, and your harry potter au’s might just be the greatest thing aside from this) xx

It is a part two of my medieval ‘peasant Van’ AU I wrote ages ago so definitely read that first if you haven’t, I will link it below. I am so happy someone requested this. The fic is weird and cute and I love it, glad to return to these characters! (Disclaimer: it is also not historically accurate or anything like that, it’s not very logical either or realistic. But it is CUTE so enjoy).

Part 1 can be found here: https://you-andthebottlemen.tumblr.com/post/163965383698/43-au

***********************************************************************

Month’s had rolled by since the night that Van, the scruffy but sweet boy who lived outside the wall, had climbed up the tower and found himself in your bedroom. You weren’t able to see each other much in fear he would get caught. But you found a way to exchange letters; one of the servant boys in the kitchen, Johnny, knew him and would pass them between you for a small reward in return. Van’s letters were poorly written, and you could tell that he probably had trouble reading. It didn’t matter though; the letters became your prized possessions.

You spent your time as always, doing your duties sitting in court by your parents, attending feasts and whatever else. Your ‘spare’ time was filled with embroidery and endless day dreaming. The same routine, day in and day out. Sometimes you were able to visit the town but never alone, always with your silver clad entourage. This made things tedious anyway and even more difficult with Van in the picture now. You’d usually only have stolen glances, maybe the odd conversation where you pretended not to know each other. Regardless, you found ways to make it fun with your secret language made of riddles that only you and he understood.

“Will you be attending the opening of the gardens this week?” you asked him, your tone formal as to not alert the knights to anything suspicious.

“My lady, ‘course I will be. Love them roses,” he smiled, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Your heart felt warm and fuzzy, making you bite your lip to hide a smile. “They’re my favourite,” you replied.

“Specially them peach coloured ones,” Van commented and winked. You blushed wildly and he smirked triumphantly.

“Move along Princess,” one of the knights grunted, staring down at Van menacingly, perhaps remembering him from The Incident a while back.

Van reached out and delicately took your hand in his, bowing and giving it a quick kiss. You hated being treated this way by people, as if you weren’t just the same as them on the inside. But with Van it was sweet and filled you with excitement knowing that it meant something more than anyone realised, and you were doing it right under their noses. You smiled and held eye contact with him as you were guided away, knowing you’d be seeing each other again soon.

……….

Finally, the day had come for another garden opening. It had always been your favourite event at the castle, you loved being able to give some joy to the townsfolk, a distraction from their day to day lives. But now, it was even more special because it was a time you could slip off and be with Van undisturbed, where you could be yourself.

You were sat down in the soft green grass, shoes off and your face pointing up towards the sky so the sun could soak into your skin. You could feel Van just watching you. He’d been telling you that the roses he’d planted at home were in fact, flourishing. He reckoned he had a green thumb. Though from what he’d told you about his father, you could bet that Bernie had been tending to them without Van’s knowledge. They sounded like the sweetest family and you wished you had a relationship like that with yours. Instead, you did whatever you were told without question and it never felt all that loving.

You fluttered your eyelids open and turned to Van. He was laying back on the ground, propped up on his elbows. He quickly averted his gaze when he saw you catching him in his stare. You giggled and he cracked a sheepish grin.

“Whatcha’ thinking about Peaches?”

Him. Always him.

“What’s the story of that gold necklace?” you asked, your eyes landing on the small pendent that peeked out of his tattered shirt.

Van sat up and shuffled towards you; you now sat cross-legged opposite each other, your knees touching.

“Well, it’s been in my family for a while. Dad gave it to mum when she had me, then when I turned 18, they gave it to me. Then I’ll give it to my wife when she has our first-born son and yeah.”

He finished his clunky story with a shrug and placed a hesitant hand on your knee. You looked up and met his eyes; both of you suddenly nervous. Van probably because he knew that he was overstepping a line, and you because you wanted more than just a hand on the knee.

“I love that,” you said, referring to the story of his necklace. “Your wife will be a lucky woman.”

“Will you be my wife?” Van asked, innocently but with conviction.

The soft smile on your lips fell and your jaw dropped in bewilderment.

“What?!”

“I meant it when I said I’d get you out! That we’d run away. Run away with me?”

Van shuffled closer and moved the hand on your knee to your cheek. You were reminded of the conversation on your bed that night, when Van pleaded with you and proposed ideas of escaping to the life you wanted but couldn’t have. You’d not said no to his idea then and you had clung onto it in your daydreams ever since.

“Van…“

Van leant forward close to your face and you could feel his breath, his nose grazing against yours. Your heart rate spiked and you sat stunned and frozen. Taking your stillness as a sign, Van leant in even closer and pressed his lips to yours.

It was a soft and undemanding kiss. Van was testing the waters; he didn’t want to scare you. You pulled away slightly and looked at him in both shock and wonder. You loved that he was brave and bold enough to just kiss a princess.

“Oh, Peaches, I’m sorry, I- “

“Shhh,” you smiled. You grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him into you again. You felt him smile against your lips as you kissed the second time. You had more confidence now and your heart fluttered. It was messy but that was okay.

When you pulled away, Van was wearing the biggest grin you’d ever seen, and that was saying something. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression; you were feeling giddy and dazed and incredibly happy. Your first kiss. It was perfect and with the perfect person.

After a moment, you both burst into laughter. Neither of you could believe what just happened. Van fell back into the grass and covered his face with his hands, still grinning.

“I kissed a princess!” he exclaimed to himself, his voice turning high pitched. You giggled at him and smiled in awe.

When he moved his hands from his face, you lay down on the grass beside him, resting your head on his chest. Van wrapped an arm around your shoulder and held you close. You’d never felt safer and you’d never felt happier, than right there in his arms.

………………

That evening, you floated about the castle without a care in the world. You were so happy; completely on cloud nine. Your kiss with Van and the afternoon as a whole replayed over and over in your mind, filling you with more excitement each time. You felt as though nothing could wipe the smile from your face or the joy from your heart.

However, you were wrong.

“What do you mean I’m getting married?!” you exclaimed, in both rage and shock.

“We’ve found you a suiter y/n!” you mother squeaked excitedly, clasping her hands to her cheeks.

You glared at both your parents who sat in their thrones before you.

“No. I don’t accept. I don’t want to marry someone I don’t know and don’t love.”

“What do you mean ‘no?” your father scoffed. “Marry for love? This isn’t a fantasy!”

“I will not marry him!” you cried with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You will. It’s decided. The Lord arrives in a week for your first meeting. And you will be wed y/n, it will be of great benefit to our land.”

You tore away from the throne room in a run and escaped back to your tower. Once inside the walls of your bedroom, you collapsed down onto your bed and sobbed until your eyes were bloodshot and sore. You didn’t want to marry whoever this lord was, you didn’t want to move away. You didn’t want any of this. You only wanted Van and the babies and life far away from all of this royalty crap.

Once you’d calmed down and could breathe properly again, you went to look out your window. The sun was going down now and the land around you glowed. You looked out into the distance in the direction Van had told you he lived and wondered what he was doing right now. Was he thinking of you too?

You mulled over his words and promises about running away together. You wanted to drop everything and run so, so badly. To leave it all behind and escape this life that wasn’t meant for you.

Without a second thought, you packed a rucksack with some clothes and your most important possessions, the pile of Van’s letters included. Once the sun had set and the sky was black, you devised a plan on how to escape the castle under the cover of darkness while everyone was asleep. Not an easy task but if Van could break in, you could break out. And you’d never been more determined to do anything in your life.

…………

Wearing the plainest clothing you owned, you followed Johnny through the tunnel under the moat. You felt scared and cold but also couldn’t shake the excitement. Turns out that Van had told Johnny everything; so, he wasn’t too hesitant on helping you escape out the servant’s route to the town. He said he’d take you to Van’s house and you promised that you’d make sure no harm would come to him and also gave him a small pouch of coins for the risk.

“You alright?” he asked.

You nodded but clung to his arm as he led you through the dark. You didn’t dare light a torch in case you were spotted.

Once you reached the end and you could finally see the stars again, Johnny gave you his coat to cover your dress in case anyone was out and about who could recognise you. You were beyond grateful for his help and you wished you could do something proper for him in return. You thought it said a lot about Van that he had such wonderful friends.

Soon, Johnny had led you past the market and through rows of small houses, which were more like huts or cottages. Animals made noises as you passed them by and you winced every time in fear the owners would come out and find you. You dreaded the thought of what would happen if you were to be dragged back to your parents at the castle, caught in the act of running away.

“Okay Princess, it’s that one,” Johnny whispered, pointing out a small mud brick place with a wonky looking rose bush at the side. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you, I can never repay you Johnny, truly I am in debt to you.”

“Not at all Princess,” Jonny said sincerely shook his head. “And call me Bondy.”

“Bondy,” you repeated with a smile and small nod. “Call me y/n.”

He stuck his hand out for a shake but instead you pulled him in for a hug and kiss on the cheek. You could almost feel the shock radiating off him. You gave him back his coat and waved one last time before he descended back off into the dark the way you’d came.

You took a final deep breath; it was now or never and you’d already come this far. There was a soft orange glow from one of the windows, probably a candle, so hopefully you wouldn’t be waking anyone up with your shock arrival. You felt bad turning up like this and hoped that Van had truly meant what he said.

After softly knocking at the door, you heard a shuffle of feet. Your heart was racing. When the door opened you were met by an older man with kind eyes. They were like Van’s but aged, though no less bright. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could get a word out, you heard another echo of footsteps and a familiar voice.

“Who is it?”

Suddenly Van peaked out from behind his father’s shoulder trying to get a look at whoever was there. If you weren’t so nervous, you would have laughed at how nosey he was.

“Peaches?!”

Van eagerly pushed poor Bernie out of the way and bundled you into a hug. You felt instantly relieved and melted right into him. When you pulled away, Van ushered you inside without question, his father close behind. The place was small, smaller than any home you’d ever been in. The whole place was probably the size of your bedroom if a little larger. There was a basic stove in one corner with a stone bench to cook on, a shabby looking table and chairs then two small doorways which you assumed led to bedrooms. It was so basic but somehow felt more homely than the castle despite its size and grandeur.

“Dad this is Peach-… the Princess,” Van said to his dad, stumbling over his words.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Princess,” he smiled warmly.

“You can call me y/n, I’m nothing special,” you replied timidly. “Sorry, for uh, being here Mr McCann,” you said, looking down. Your usual confidence and eloquence escaped you.

You didn’t want to offend the man and you felt really terrible for showing up on his doorstep like this and putting the family in such a position. Hiding you would be considered treason. Treason was punishable by imprisonment or even death.

Bernie’s face softened and he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Van’s told us everything, you’re so welcome here my dear.”

“Thank you. So, so much.”

You looked between Van and Bernie gratefully, some worry lifting off your chest. After a short while Bernie went back to bed where Van’s mother Mary was still sleeping. Van and Bernie both had an inkling she wouldn’t be as happy about this unexpected visit as they were so best to let her have a full night’s sleep. You and Van stayed up longer and talked. You told him everything, about the marriage and the lord arriving in a week. You had to fight off tears just speaking out it.

“I knew things were too good to be true,” you whispered into his chest as he held you tight.

You were upset that this had all happened after the most perfect day together. Your head swam with worries and you didn’t know what on earth you were doing.

“You’re here now and we’ll work it out, yeah?” Van soothed.

He set you up in his bed, insisting on taking the floor. You put up a fight but he was relentless and wouldn’t stop making a fuss until you were laid down and tucked up. The bed was hard and dug into your back, but you didn’t care.

Van kissed you goodnight and then fell asleep quickly despite laying on the cold dirt floor. Everything was uncertain and this was terrifying. But you stared down at the boy with the freckles, bad haircut and blue eyes who would do anything for you and felt a little more at ease. You fell asleep that night calmed with the knowledge that Van McCann, the peasant boy who had taken a bite out of your peach, had also stolen your heart.

…………….

“Van! Close the gate! The goat will get out!” you yelled desperately as you heard him come home.

“Sorry Peaches can’t hear you, the goat got out!” he shouted back.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh a little too. Years had passed but Van hadn’t changed at all; you loved it.

Ignoring the ruckus caused by Van trying to herd the goat back into the yard outside, you looked down at the little rosy cheeked baby girl sitting up and smiling at you from her wooden crib. She had Van’s blue eyes and long lashes. Just looking at her made your heart want to burst with love.

“What are we going to do with Daddy?” you asked her, smiling and bending down to her level.

You’d named her Mary after Van’s mother. Little Mary made gurgling sounds at you and stuck her fingers in her mouth. She was the first of what you suspected were many babies to come. You caressed her cheek before getting up to clear the kitchen from breakfast.

You and Van had escaped and eloped. Van’s cousins lived in another village that was in another Kingdom; your parents couldn’t touch you and it was unlikely anyone would recognise you there either. His uncle set him up with a job and he’d worked day in and day out saving up to buy you a wedding ring. As soon as he could afford it, he proposed. After a while, you were able to move from the spare room in one of his cousin’s houses into a tiny cottage of your own. Then before you knew it, Little Mary was on her way. Van’s family had been so kind and supportive; giving you second-hand baby clothes or toys and anything else they could. Life was perfect. You had friends, real friends for the first time in your life. You felt free. No one knew you had escaped the life of royalty and it felt good to be seen for who you were, not the title that hung over your head.

Van was the perfect husband and perfect father. You couldn’t believe that your reality now looked the same as all the things you daydreamed about up in your tower for years. And it was all because of Van. The love of your life. You’d grown up together, his hair cut improved a bit and now you shared a tiny perfect child who so far seemed to be an even combination of the two of you. You wondered what her personality would be like as she grew up. Would she be sweet and mischievous like Van or a level headed dreamer like you?

Van came through the door breathing heavily and his face and clothes smudged in dirt.

“Bloody goat,” he breathed, wiping his forehead.

“Well, I did say not to leave the gate open,” you smirked. “Besides, I like the goat, best not let it escape yeah?”

You walked over and gave Van a kiss, ignoring how bad he smelt. You’d started selling goats milk cheese in the local market, earning your little family some extra money. You’d also started experimenting on making goat milk soaps. That was still a work in progress, though you enjoyed having something of your own to do. Van loved it, thought you were ‘dead smart’.

“Go get washed up,” you instructed as you tried to rub the smudge off his cheek.

Van stopped to give Mary a kiss on top of her head as he walked through to the back where the tub was. She giggled and reached her arms up to him.

“Can’t pick you up love, mum says I need to wash. I smell,” he said to her as if she understood.

Your hand moved unconsciously to the gold chain that now hung on your neck and you fiddled with it as you stared at the two of them, totally besotted.

When Van had finished, he came out to find you and Mary sat out in the garden. You had her sat on your lap and you were showing her the different flowers that had bloomed. Van sat down beside you and reached his arms out for his baby girl. She shrieked when she saw him and was passed over happily. Mary stretched out and touched his face, he just made silly expressions back at her. Van was dirt free and in a clean fabric shirt, his wet hair clung to his forehead and stuck up funnily. He’d lost the baby fat off his cheeks but otherwise looked the same as when you’d first met him really. Though he’d definitely gotten more handsome with age.

“Look how beautiful your mummy is,” he whispered to Mary as he held your gaze, turning her to face you.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks.

“I got something for you at the market this mornin’,” he said.

He sat Mary down on the grass and raced off. She began to curiously pull blades of grass out of the ground and squish them up between her fingers. When Van came back, he had his hands hidden behind his back.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed. You did what he said.

Van placed something in your hands, it was soft and kind of…furry? When you opened your eyes, you couldn’t contain the grin.

“A peach!” he boasted proudly.

Peaches were ridiculously hard to come by where you lived now. In that moment you were thrown back to your first meeting with Van. The old lady and her granddaughter, Van being chased by knights, you keeping the peach on your windowsill for weeks. Who would have thought that you end up running away to start a family with that very peasant boy? Certainly not you. You felt sad for a minute, thinking about your parents who had no idea where you were. You tried not to think about those things too much. You had everything you’d ever dreamed of.

As if sensing your sudden mood change, Van crouched down closer to you and stroked your cheek.

“Thank you, Van,” you smiled and leant in to kiss him. You handed the peach to Little Mary. She looked at it curiously and rubbed the soft peach fuzz against her cheek.

“Do you think she’d like it?” Van asked you.

You shrugged and he reached out to take the peach. Little Mary’s face screwed up and her lip trembled like she was going to cry because daddy had taken her new toy. Van pulled the skin off the peach to make it easier for her toothless little mouth.

“Careful, don’t let daddy take a bite!” you said to her, giving Van a wink. He just smirked back at you, knowing exactly what memory you were referring to.

Van’s hair had started to dry in soft waves under the sunshine and he looked faultless. He handed the fruit back to Mary and her tiny smile returned. She began to suck on the peach, clearly liking the sweet taste.

Van sat and pulled you into his lap. He held you from behind and buried his face in your neck, giving your skin soft kisses. You squeezed his hands tight, wanting to live in this moment forever.

“I love you, Peaches,” he whispered.

“I love you too Van,” you replied, staring at your blue-eyed baby girl who was now covered in peach juice and loving it.

[clownsgobeepbeep]

022.

22.)Classic Ghost Stories

@grotesquegabby Since ya boi Lennie is here

First off, let me apologize in advance if I happen to get anything wrong and such. I haven’t written for the Spooky AU in a damn while

“Mummy, mash-mallow?”

“Oh yes, here you go.”

Lily held tightly onto her skewer as Coraline placed a marshmallow onto it, the little doll soon running off as she smiled. Coraline watched as Lily ran over to the fire burning in front of everybody, standing next to her wendigo friend.

“I hope she doesn’t burn herself.” Coraline heard beside her, knowing it was Maggie who had leaned it to whisper.

“Don’t even worry about it, she knows not to touch the fire now.” Coraline motioned to the kids, seeing how Atlas had reached over to lower a mesmerized Lily’s hand after she had attempted to reach into the fire. “Or...we’ve been working on that.” 

“Well, at least she’s not the only one staring into the forbidden lamp.”Maggie quietly laughed as she motioned to the other log where three others sat. There sat Coraline’s brother, her and Maggie’s demon-dragon friend, and another friend who was a mothman attracted to the fire.

“Dude, you’re gonna burn yourself.” Stellar gently shook Vespers who snapped out his slight daze, looking over at him with a laugh.

“Sorry about that.” Vespers shrugged, grabbing a skewer with a marshmallow. “I’m gonna go roast this.”

“Mkay.” Stellar nodded as he watched Vespers go towards the flames, Atlas now watching his cousin as well. “So, Lennie.”

Next to Stellar was the demon-dragon hybrid who turned to him, feeling rather nervous as he had just recently met Coraline’s brother.

“How have you been, hm?”

“Oh...well?” Lennie slightly shrugged. “I’m not very used to hanging out with many people this way. I am enjoying it however.”

“That’s great, I’m glad to finally meet my sister’s beau.” Stellar quietly laughed as Lennie turned to him in surprise. “Her friend, I meant. Lily and Coraline talk about you often.”

“Oh, do they?” Lennie perked up, but before Stellar could respond, they heard leaves crunching due to the little doll running over to them.

“Hey Baby Doll.” Stellar greeted as Lennie gave her a small wave, watching as Lily now stood in front of Lennie with a flaming marshmallow.

“Blow fire? Please?” she smiled, Lennie looking a bit unsure until he decided to help Lily out. No harm would come...

“Whoa!” Lily exclaimed as Lennie tried blowing away the marshmallow’s flames, instead adding more to it which made Lily’s eyes go wide with amazement.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry-” Lennie now waved his hands around Lily’s practically burnt marshmallow, Atlas then running up to them before blowing on it himself until there were now more flames.

“Thank you!” Lily exclaimed, then running off to Coraline and Maggie.

“I’m sorry about that.” Lennie apologized, pretty embarrassed as Stellar gave him a small pat. Meanwhile, Atlas had walked behind Lily who now sat in between Coraline and Maggie.

“Do you want the normal chocolate, or the one with peanut butter?” Maggie asked as she helped Lily assemble her s’more.

“Peanut!”

“Got it.” Maggie handed over the s’more to Lily who gave an excited squeal, despite this being her third one. It was good the little things made her happy.

“Do you also want a s’more Atlas?” Coraline asked as she grabbed some crackers.

“Yes please.” Atls nodded as she helped him with his s’more. “Are there any more hot dog ingredients?”

“Oh yeah! Did you want another?” Coraline giggled as Atlas gave another nod. This boy really did like eating, she found it pretty funny and cute.

“Mummy.” Lily softly tapped Coraline who turned to her. “Story?”

“Story?”

“Uh huh. Uncle Stellar story tell.”

“Oh! You mean some ghost story telling?”

“Ghost story telling?” sounded Vespers’ voice as he now approached them. “Are we gonna be doing that now?”

“Oh yes!” Atlas exclaimed after having chowed down his s’more, already having started to roast his next hot dog.

“What are we doing?” Stellar walked towards everybody with Lennie flying right behind him.

“Spooky story tell!” Lily excitedly clapped her hands before she ran to sit on one of the logs, Atlas immediately accompanying her as Vespers sat next to him and Stellar beside him.

“Oh, my seat was taken.” Lennie murmured to himself before he felt a tap on  his shoulder, turning to see Maggie a sly smile he didn’t really notice.

“You can sit next to Coraline. In fact, you guys can have the entire log to yourselves.” Maggie pointed to where Coraline sat.

“But, where will you sit?”

“I’ll be perched on that tree by the log. Don’t worry about me.” Maggie soon flew up, perching herself on a sturdy branch as she looked down, snickering to herself as Coraline was surprised to see Lennie sit right next to her. Coraline of course didn’t mind, but she gave a look at Maggie once she found her one the tree laughing to herself.

“So, who’s gonna start?” Vespers asked as everybody looked at each other Lily eventually speaking up.

“Fire bad.”

“Lily no.”

“Fire good.”

Atlas then pat Lily’s shoulder as she smiled, feeling proud of herself. That obviously had to scare everybody.

“Hey Coral,” Stellar cleared his ‘non-existent’ throat. “How about you give it a try?”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because I know you like to write stories quite often, especially involving L- ow!” Stellar laughed after his sister threw an empty soda can at him. “I meant to say, that you also have heard a lot of good ones from Mama Carol.”

Coraline glared at her brother for a bit longer before looking over at Lennie, seeing as he gave her a sweet smile. This in turn made Coraline blush the slightest bit, looking away and into the campfire before them as she knew Maggie was staring down at her with a smirk.

“Have you guys heard...the one about the Wailing Woman?”

“Oh Coral-” Stellar started, being shushed by the kids which no doubt took him by surprise.

“So, the story tells of this woman who was alive centuries ago, one of the reasons as to why her name is never recognized. Some fear that saying it...is enough to summon her. People have fear her ever since she started terrorizing people all around, mainly remaining near a river.”

“Oh shit.”

“Maggie!” Vespers exclaimed, motioning to the children who were far too busy listening to Coraline to hear Maggie.

“This woman was quite popular in the area that she lived in, she was so tempting and her beauty was known all around. Her heart was pure gold as her soul was kind, all she knew and gave was love which was returned to her. Especially, by a stranger who one day arrived to the little town. Once they had each laid eyes upon each other, they fell in love and everybody took notice of this.”

“That last parts sounds pretty familiar Coral, are you sure you aren’t-”

“Uncle!”

“Okay, okay.”

“After days and months of flirting, these two immediately hit it off. Their love formed into one brought even more joy into the little town, and especially when two bundles of joy were eventually birthed by the woman. Together, they raised a pair of beautiful twins who flourished and were loved by everybody as well. All was good and well, until some news reached their mother.”

“Dead!”

“Lily, shhh.”

“Joy had eventually been sucked out of the little town, flowers withered, the river grew cloudy and was no longer clear and beautiful. Skies had now darkened as the town, and the woman herself, discovered that her husband had been an unfaithful man.”

“No!”

“Lily, come on.”

“The woman was devastated, not understanding what had gone wrong in their relationship...”Coraline soon started to whisper, biting the inside of her cheek as this was starting to hit home. She had to stop just for a bit, right before feeling a a hand hold hers in a comforting manner, realizing that it was Lennie who made sure she was alright before she nodded.

“The woman was devastated and fell into a depression, just as the town did for she was practically the life and energy in it. Her depression had grown and she was drowned in it, feeling only negativity towards the world and her former partner. Her depression...it drove her to madness, she wanted nothing to do with that man anymore. She wanted all traces of him gone. So she got rid of everything until realizing...there were two more pieces lingering around. Their children.”

Lily soon gave a gasp, surprisingly startling everybody that now looked at her, making her giggle out an apology.

“Anyways, so the woman had wanted everything about him go and so one night...she woke up the children, suggesting that they take a midnight stroll with her. The children obeyed their mother’s wishes, especially in hopes to comfort her in her time of sadness. However, the mother lead them through a stroll that eventually lead to the river where a thick fog lay. She took hold of their back collars, suggesting that they take a slight dip. Though once inside, she forced the two children beneath the water, holding them in place despite their struggled and her waterfall of tears.”

Before Coraline could continue, there was a sound...far from their location, yet it sounded close...almost like sobbing.

“Um, well...okay, uh...As I was saying, the children had eventually stopped flailing around, their bodies limp in the water as their mother still held onto them. There was no realization needed for her actions, for she had always known what she had done, yet she felt regret and guilt as she pressed the bodies close to her chest, giving a-”

She was then interrupted as far in the woods...was the sound of a wail.

“Uh, Coraline?” Vespers asked as they all turned to him. “You wouldn’t happen to be doing any of this, right? Don’t want the kids get-”

There was then the sound of another wail, this time closer to the campfire. 

“Coraline?”

“It’s not me!” Coraline stood up, looking at Maggie her shook her head and shrugged in equal confusion.

“Mummy!” Lily ran over to Coraline, hugging her legs as Lennie stood up to comfort the little doll. Soon enough, Lily turned and instead went to hug Lennie while burying her face in his chest.

Another wail sounded, even closer. 

Maggie hopped off the tree and stood close to Coraline as Stellar made his scythe appear, getting ready for whatever was about to come. Vespers made sure to keep Atlas close, also staying close to the others as another wail was heard, and because it was so close, sobbing could also be heard.

Despite the bright flames near everybody, they were all able to see a glow in the direction of the wailing as everybody stood their ground. However, the glow had eventually gone out the wailing had momentarily ceased.

“Surprise!” came a loud voice, making Lily, Atlas, Coraline, and even again give a startled scream(or squawk).

“You, asshole!” Stellar yelled out, walking over and giving a smack to the new guest as Vespers and Lennie comforted the child they each embraced.

“What? What’d I do wrong?”

A wail sounded again, this time right in front of Stellar who looked down. The wail came from no woman, but rather a small monster child who held onto the hand belonging to his and Coraline’s brother, Roger.

“I’m sorry we came late, some things held us up and Cupcake here didn’t want to come.” Roger looked at the wailing girl as her twin watched her worriedly. Roger then turned to look at the others, noticing as the kids were hidden under Vespers and Lennie’s glares, just as Maggie and Coraline frowned deeply at him.

“Seriously? What did I do wrong?”

[searchingwardrobes]

Desdichado: Ch 11/?

Finally, the next update on this fic! Unfortunately, this has no Captain Swan in it. However, it is very important to the plot and sets up the next chapter. This also has the development of two of the other couples: Aurora/Phillip (which is good for CS, right?) and Outlaw Queen.

Summary: I think I’ve summarized this differently every single time, but basically this is an Ivanhoe AU. It’s also a fix-it fic (for me anyway) because I never liked how Ivanhoe ended. So basically you’ve got knights, jousting, chivalry, castles, lords & ladies, and Emma and Regina under suspicion of witchcraft. (That last part hasn’t been a big plot point yet, but trust me, it will. You know what I’m talking about if you know Ivanhoe.) Did I mention Killian is a knight? That’s always good, right?

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: “set in a time period where women were treated like crap” basically sums it up, also starts off Sleeping Captain, but you all know why I’m here . . . lol. Oh, and it Neal is a straight up evil villain in this . . . shocker from me, I know!

You can catch up on Ao3

@bethacaciakay @teamhook @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @mythologicalmango @wellhellotragic

Chapter Eleven

Aurora blinked, but no light penetrated the dark of the forest around her. She shivered. Even with Sir Phillip’s cloak added to Emma’s, the chill of night could not be warded off. This was the second night spent under the trees since fleeing their captors, and still Phillip insisted upon giving her added warmth while he took none for himself. He did the same with the meager rations in his satchel and the meat from the coney he had managed to shoot for their dinner. He was different from the rest of the knights in his company, and his gentleness and kindness warmed Aurora’s heart even as she feared what her father and Killian may be suffering.

She shifted on the hard ground, wondering what had awakened her from her slumber. Then she heard it, a sharp cry from the other side of the cold embers of last night’s fire.

“No, no! Please, no!”

It was Phillip’s voice, and the brokenness and fear in it made Aurora’s heart clench with an almost physical pain. She heard him thrash and cry out again. The mumbled tone of his voice let her know he wasn’t awake. She crept across the ground to where he lay, letting his cloak slip from her shoulders. She eased down to kneel next to him, and was concerned to see how he trembled. Whether it was from the dreams plaguing him or the cold, she wasn’t sure, but she draped his cloak over his shoulders nonetheless. Her hand drifted to his shoulder and lingered there. She startled when he grasped it firmly in his own.

“Mother?” he asked in a wavering voice.

She eased forward, eyes straining in the dark, but she didn’t think he was awake. She squeezed his hand and ran her thumb along his knuckles soothingly.

“Phillip?”

“Mother,” a slight cry trembled in his voice, “you’re here.”

His voice slurred, and his hand grew limp in hers. She reached out and traced his forehead with her other hand and felt furrows under her fingertips. He was grimacing in his sleep; evidently still within the throws of his nightmare.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered, sounding so much younger than his years.

It was the most vulnerable any man had ever sounded in her presence, and something about it made a part of her heart unfurl in a way she had never known before. She shifted to sit next to him, running her fingers through his hair.

“I am going nowhere, Phillip. I promise.”

“There’s so much pain here, mother, so much hate . . .”

“Shhh, sleep,” she whispered, her fingers still gently soothing his scalp. He let out a sigh, and as she traced his forehead with her thumb, it was smooth. His breathing soon evened out, and his fingers slipped from her grip. He was asleep again.

Aurora gazed into the darkness, tears rolling down her cheeks. She knew what he was dreaming of; it was the Crusades.

*******************************************************

Regina stomped across the campsite, looking around for something to kick, and frustrated when she could find nothing. The rising sun was burning off the mist of dawn, and she squinted against its light as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her fingers dug into her upper arms as she ground her teeth.

“I always find ladies quite fetching when they want to hit something.”

Regina spun around to see Robin Hood leaning cockily against a tree, his own arms crossed as he watched her with an infuriating smile upon his face. She scowled openly at him.

“You make women irate on such a regular basis?”

He chuckled as he pushed himself off the tree. “My wife would have said so when she lived. Yet her fire was one of the things I loved about her. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. All men need such a partner in life, in my opinion.’

Regina rolled her eyes. “Please, you believe no such thing.”

Robin’s eyebrows rose, “You think I’m lying?”

Regina stomped closer to him, “Yes, I do. For one, men universally wish women to be meek and worship them no matter how infantile their actions. Secondly, you certainly didn’t listen when I spoke my mind just now.”

His face softened as he placed both hands on Regina’s shoulders. Her skin heated at his touch. “You have to trust me.”

Regina blinked, thrown slightly by the tingle that skittered down her spine at his nearness. She shook her head and took a step back.

“Trust you? Why should I? You’re a bandit that I’ve known for only two days. And the plan that your merry men and Stefan’s knights have cobbled together could very well get Emma killed.”

“Don’t forget that I fought alongside Sir Killian in the Crusades,” Robin retorted, his voice rising slightly. “I do not wish to see him harmed, nor does Lord Stefan want his daughter endangered.”

“Then we storm the castle!” Regina cried.

Robin stepped directly into her personal space and gazed into her eyes with fire in them. “And we would fail. You heard our scout. He saw Prince James and his knights heading for the castle where our friends are being held. We are far too outnumbered.”

Regina looked away, partly because she didn’t want to hear his arguments and partly because the way he looked at her had her feeling off-kilter. She blinked rapidly as worry and fear threatened to overwhelm her. But Mills women didn’t show softness; they didn’t show weakness, so she squared her jaw and took a step away from the bandit at her side. He stopped her with a gentle hand to her elbow.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned eluding the Sheriff of Nottingham, it’s that you don’t reveal move three before you’ve made moves one and two.”

Regina jerked her arm away. “This isn’t chess. Emma is no pawn.”

He grinned at her. “But how do you know I don’t have an extra knight – or even a king – up my sleeve?” He reached out for her again, running his hand up and down her arm in what she assumed was supposed to be a soothing gesture. How could he know his touch left fire in its wake? “We’ll draw the Templar knights away from the castle where my men fight best. Meanwhile Stefan’s men will attack from the rear –“

“- and set fire to the garrison,” Regina interrupted in irritation, “I was there for the strategy meeting, remember? So excuse me if I don’t want my dau – my ward – set on fire!”

Robin shook his head. “It’s a diversion, remember. It will give us time to –“

“To search every inch of that enormous castle?” she barked a sarcastic laugh. “There are so many holes in this plan, it’s ridiculous.”

Robin’s eyes narrowed, a sure sign he was beginning to lose his patience with her. Regina could care less. She may have been the only women in this little band, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to just be dragged along in any fool hardy scheme they concocted. The two of them were in an obstinate standoff, but before either of them could get in another barb, a sharp, high pitched cry pierced the edge of the camp.

“Please! Mercy! I beg of you!”

Regina’s eyes rose in alarm as they met Robin’s, and they raced across the camp. At the edge of the forest clearing, the merry men had a figure surrounded, their bows fitted with arrows to point at the interloper. When Regina and Robin pushed through the crowd, they were both shocked to find a slight young woman with dark brown hair crumpled on the ground with both hands raised and a look of terror upon her face.

“Stand down, men, she’s but a child!” Robin barked. Then he reached out for the girl and helped her up, speaking soothingly to her until her trembling ceased. He led her over to one of the logs by the fire, his eyes connecting with Regina’s as he did so. She understood his meaning and rushed to get the girl a cup of water. She accepted it gratefully, but only took a sip before speaking.

“My name’s Violet, and I am a servant at Glowerhaven castle.”

“Where they’re keeping Emma!” Regina gasped as she eagerly sat beside the girl. “No one seems to know who the Lord of that castle is. What can you tell us?”

The girl’s eyes filled up with tears, and Regina rubbed her back soothingly. She took a deep breath, then spoke.

“It will be Sir Baelfire’s once he weds. It’s part of his father’s holdings, though it’s only been a summer holiday retreat all the years I’ve worked there.”

Robin clenched a fist as he growled under his breath. “Lord Robert.”

Violet nodded. “Aye. His main estate is Fortress Gold on the far side of the kingdom, though I’ve never been there.”

Regina shook her head in frustration. “But what of the prisoners. What of my Emma?”

“And my dear Aurora,” Stefan added, coming to stand beside Robin, his face a tortured mask of worry and fear.

“It was Lady Emma and Sir Killian who told me to run. You see, her and Lady Aurora switched places that first day. I was to be the Lady Aurora’s chamber maid, but I’ve been Lady Emma’s instead while she cares for Sir Killian’s injuries.”

“Switched places!” Stefan cried. “Where is my daughter now?”

“She fled with Sir Phillip. To . . . Misthaven I believe?”

“She fled in the company of one knight?” Stefan moaned as he sank to the log. “She’ll be ruined!”

“Your daughter managed to escape from her kidnappers, and that’s what you’re worried about?” Regina exclaimed. Lord Stefan gave her a disapproving glare that could have curdled milk, but Regina could care less. Of all the patriarchal, ridiculous –

“Oh, but she had no choice, my Lord!” Violet exclaimed. “Prince James was on his way to force her into a marriage.” The child flushed as she glanced at the two men before her, then leaned towards Regina and whispered. “She was terrified, m’lady, she seemed to think he would . . . deflower her.”

Violet began to tremble again, and Regina shot a glare of her own at Lord Stefan as she pulled the poor girl close. After a few moments of Regina’s soothing fingers in her hair, the girl lifted her tear streaked face to Regina.

“Lord Killian was mending well under Lady Emma’s care, but then Sir James arrived. He frightened me so! He may be the prince, but he’s cruel.” She turned her gaze to the men. “He plans to use them as bait to capture Lord Stefan.”

Robin nodded, rubbing his chin with his hand. “He assumes we still believe Aurora to be imprisoned at Glowerhaven.”

“And we did,” Regina put in, giving Violet another smile, “until this brave girl found us.” Then she sighed deeply before looking up at Robin. “I do hate admitting when I’m wrong, but . . . what was that chess move you were planning again?”

Robin grinned down at her, and she felt a blush rise up into her cheeks. He clapped his hands, “All right, Merry Men! Let’s prepare for battle!”

Regina rose to her feet, relieved to finally be doing something to help her ward. She was also relieved that she hadn’t been forced to make her final chess move in order to ensure Emma’s safety. But before she could follow after Robin, Violet grasped her hand frantically.

“They have to hurry!” Violet implored with a trembling voice. “Prince James has murder in his eyes.”

Regina swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in her throat. She knew all too well Prince James’ true nature, and she’d be damned if the past eighteen years had been for naught.