#darkest knight au

[dirtyvulture]

The God of Lust(TM) is returning this week with a new installment in the Darkest Knight AU! 🥳

Sneak peek below to get you all riled up:

See you for the full fic soon :)

[anko-murasaki]

The Fallen King and his Knight

[thehappiestgolucky]

Day 3! Largest Mer

Look look new mer just dropped - who I think Imma have a consistent factor in all Mer Aus because I fell in love with their design and personality :)

[flhoarder]

DD2 AU where Dismas is a cryptozoologist’s half-assed apprentice

Word on the street is there’s some kind of silvery, man-sized cryptid sighting along the dark path towards the mountain

The only kind of trap known to be effective is a helmet with candles lit on top. Legend has it if a traveller dotted their path with a few of those there’s a chance they’d net the creature

[offsidekineticist]

So I still have asks and stuff to answer, but a couple of asks I got made me think about a demon path AU for Theoven where he basically gives up on even trying to control his temper, and...um...well this is what came of it, and I don't think I ever want to touch that AU again. Post-game fic.

CW: suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, mental breakdown, imprisonment, torture, toxic family dynamics

There is a mansion in the Abyss filled with shadows. There is a room in this mansion guarded by shadows. There is a gnome in this room bound by shadows. And every day, the lord of the mansion stops by this room and asks the gnome a single question:

"Are you ready to behave?"

When he was first brought to this place, the gnome answered by trying to break his bonds and attack his captor. In time, when the shadows would not let him die, he answered by begging for death. Eventually he lost any hope of dying, and answered the question with tears and whimpering. Now even the tears have gone, and he answers only with silence. This is his last resistance, the last of his honor: he has failed, and he has broken, but he has broken in a way that will not give his brother what he wants.

The master of the mansion always sighs with disappointment, as one might at a petulant child, before saying:

"Well. Perhaps you will be ready tomorrow."

And every day he turns and walks away, a smirk of satisfaction on his lips, and the shadows begin their horrors anew.

[coffee-in-veins]

oh, look who finally woke up from his bender... :}

i’d say that the wolfpelt AU is thriving. here, have my rendition of Dismas from that AU, in Uncatchable, his wolf pelt, showing off some interesting marks :3

it’s a matching picture for wonderful Reynauld’s art by @engelsschwert

[pondermoniums]

AU where Arthur wakes up next to the lake. He feels cold and tired, like he can't fully wake up. He's sore, but for the most part he's able to get himself back to Camelot. The city and his queen welcome him back with relief and jubilation...but Merlin is not there.

"We expected him to come back with you," Gwen says.

"He'll turn up," Leon says, but it sounds hollow. Arthur knows he's waiting for his brother knights, and as the days go on, neither the knights, nor Merlin return home.

Arthur is slowly losing his mental fortitude, and Gaius is the only person who is honest with him. "Something must have happened, sire."

"You think he's a prisoner of war?"

"No. I think Merlin...did something. What do you remember?"

"I remember...I believed I was dying. But then I woke up and I was fine."

It takes another day and a half for Gaius to build up the courage to tell him, "Your majesty, I have reason to believe that you did perish at Mordred's blade."

"Then why am I sat here talking to you? You can see me. Hear me. I can touch things."

"Sire...do you remember the illusion Morgause gave you all those years ago? About your mother?"

Arthur had willingly pushed that memory to the back of his mind, where the darkest and quietest waters made no sound unless forcefully stirred. The look on his face, however, encourages Gaius to continue, "Do you remember what she told you? About your conception?"

Arthur tried to make light of it. "Nobody wants to think too much on their conception."

Gaius, ever the stoic physician, persevered, "Except Ygraine could not. Bringing you into this world evoked an ancient magic, the magic of life and death. The sorceress who utilized it, did so in such a way that allowed you to be born, but at the price of your mother. Souls trading places in this world."

Arthur knew what Gaius was telling him, but he did not want to know. Did not want it to possibly, ever feasibly, be true. Out of politeness, he hears his voice say, "What are you telling me?"

The old physician's demeanor did break as he took a deep breath. "I'm telling you...that I believe Merlin traded places with you."

[peapeapeapa]

My Seven Friends redesigns c:

This is how they look in my AU/headcanons

Their clothes are inspired by what culture I think they're from based on their names.

Gabo - Spaniard (since Rosa is set somewhere in Spain, I gave him a nicer Spanish tunic. He works in the Castle Kitchens so he shouldn't be able to afford it, but Bazeema made it for him for his birthday)

Hal - North African (gave her a dress because I don't like the trend where the darkest skinned girl is the most masculine)

Safi - Arabian (I didn't really change his clothes to match his culture. He just wears the coziest clothes he can find as long as they don't trigger his allergies. Bazeema is his sister in my hc, and she made his clothes for him to help with his easily irritable skin)

Dahlia - Taiwanese (I didn't change her clothes much, I liked her design. I gave her a bandanna because she placed her hands on top of her head while thinking and doesn't want to get flour in her hair)

Bazeema - Arabian (Bazeema and Safi are siblings, and Bazeema likes to reflect her culture more in her clothing than Safi does. She's a seamstress and works at her mother's shop, and made Safi's clothes for him to help with his allergies and irritable skin)

Simon O'Donohue - Irish (Simon is a Hebrew name, but O'Donohue is derived from an Irish name, and because that's his last name I'm going with that one. Because this is his Knight outfit, its just the one from the movie without any Irish influences)

Dario - German (Dario is an Italian name, but his mother named him that after already arriving at Rosas and seeing others with the name, liking it)

[hotluncheddie]

Jester.

For the April @steddiemicrofic prompt 'fool' !

wc: 454 | rated: G | cw: none | tags: Royal Fantasy AU, Jester!Eddie, Prince!Steve, chubby Steve Harrington (as always)

♠️❤️♣️♦️

The great hall, once more, is alive; with bodies and music, dancing and food. The people partaking in rich wine, savoury meats and fresh breads, cheeses littered with herbs and thick garlic butters. Fruits and sweets are spread, abundant, across the castles long tables. 

Stefan rises and refill his plate, returning to the small throne designated to him, by his fathers side. Although, both royals left for bed some hours ago - the kingdom falling into twilight. 

Constellations glint through the great stone windows that line the hall. 

Stefan, though, does not crave sleep, does not desire rest or his quarters. Instead staying, and eating, relishing the discreet company of his, most secret, most special one.

He did talk some, extending himself amongst the masses. He is favourable to them, tries to be kind, and fair (an easy feat compared to the king.) 

As even in his changed state, the people fawn to him, the maidens touch his arm and their fathers flash their jewels, because long dinners and celebrations have added softness to his jaw, a width to his waist and thighs. Enough for new robes to be drawn and tailored. 

But Stefan pays it no mind, simple pleasure yielding natural results. Some even herald it as a sign of their land falling again into peace, safe now from dragons and beasts. Stefan no longer required to fight amongst his knights, to live in fitful bursts of danger and fear. 

Now, instead, time is pleasant. Long hours of indulging allowing him a most gracious gift. At grand affairs like these, he is able sit, and watch, and wait. 

Watch for the jesters sweeping eyes to befall him, again. 

Wait to be sent a wink or smile, for the starlight that sits abundant in dancing brown eyes to grace him. 

His clown plays, entertaining them all. Weaving sweeping tales and drawing joyous songs by lute. With nimble movements of his frame and great expressions of his face, the people will laugh and gasp and cheer. 

His sweet thing cause of it all, stoking the flames, breathing stories and poems to life. Like magic. 

Then, by darkest night, guests dispersed, Stefan will stay sat at his thrown, table clean before him, stomach full. 

With eyes cast foreword, essence set endlessly on but one thing, as it has been, all night. Stefan will ask ‘play me another?’ reaching out as Edmund steps forward, bowing deep to softly kiss the extended ring, the princes knuckle.

And looking up through shining eyes, lips splitting into a sweet grin. The jester will speak softly, a voice saved solely for him.

‘His majesty may be more a fool, in fact, than I, to think that it is not already done.’ 

♠️❤️♣️♦️

i wrote this and couldn't stop thinking about it :)

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

The relationship was forbidden, you knew the risks and you knew what the punishment would be if you were found out — oh, the court scandal it would cause. It didn’t deter the need to see them, though, nor the bout of friendly competition you craved.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ♔ Stableboys!Stucky x Princess!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ♔ 2.3k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ♔ Fluff, forbidden and polyamorous relationship, spicy tension

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ♔ My first Royalty AU!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ♔ Run Boy Run by Woodkid

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ♔ @stuckybingo Ｎ１ — Royalty AU — Masterlist

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The grounds were alive – knights and commoners mingling as they went about their day, and you managed a small smile at everyone that bowed or curtsied as you passed. Your guards, a parade more so for show than protection, flanked your side while your friend and court lady, Kate, strode just a step behind you. 

It was a pleasant day, too. The sun’s rays cast brightly across the vividly painted buildings and brought life to even the darkest shadows, a light pleasant breeze moved your hair and ruffled the hem of your dress – which in all fairness, you despised. Being trapped in the godforsaken dress your mother had insisted upon was a burden almost as heavy as the tiara back in your wing of the castle.

You craved freedom. To ride alongside the guards and the knights, to work amongst the commoners – to learn what it was like for your people. There was freedom in normalcy, in lack of extravagance, and you feared you’d never know, nor experience it. 

That changed, however, when the head of the stable hired two young men from the populace to help in his ageing years. 

“I cannot chase the horses much longer, my lady,” John had said. A wince of pain and a note of breathlessness in his voice. You were saddened, struck suddenly by just how old he was – the man that had taught you everything there was to know about horses, especially yours. “There will be two new hands in the coming days. They are coming from the outskirts, but I am assured they will take the greatest care of your beloved.” 

In your grief – not only for him stepping down to enjoy a much deserved retirement, but for when the day would come, it would be severely frowned upon to see him again – you could only smile softly at him and place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. The display of affection would have been frowned upon, but you were alone with your mentor – there was no one around to judge nor crucify you. 

A couple of days after John had told you the news, the new stable boys arrived, as expected, bright and early. The announcement of their arrival had roused you from your quarters faster than Kate could call out after you to slow down. You had spent the day down in the stables with them, learning their names and intrigued by the way they interacted with the horses, and one another. 

There was a tenderness you couldn’t explain between them. The soft tones of their voices, and their happy smiles – it was like you were watching your parents, it was only then when you realised that they were not all that they seemed. 

“Your Highness!”

Startled back to the present, your gaze snapped to the stable doors, and you grinned. James was standing at the open door, two bales of hay in his arms and a bright smile on his face. He didn’t rush towards you as he had every other time he had greeted you, so you chose to lengthen your stride and cover the distance. 

“Hello, James,” you said happily, and you heard Kate scoff quietly behind you. “How do you do?”

“Just fine, my lady,” Bucky winked, and he gestured inside the barn with a nod of his head. “Come see Steve, he will be happy to see you.”

“I’m sure he would,” Kate mumbled, and you shot her a look. “What? It’s not like it’s not obvious.”

“Hush, Kate,” you whispered back, pulling her along while the guards stood at attention either side of the wide doorway. Kate only rolled her eyes and threw you a knowing smirk, which you didn’t dignify with a response. 

The guard’s horses looked over as you strode down between the stalls and you stopped to pat every single one, a low nicker or snort in greeting all you received in return, but you knew by their soft eyes and relaxed ears they were happy; well loved and cared for, as they should be.

“Stevie,” Bucky called, and Steve poked his head around the end stall, his face already smudged with dirt and blond hair filled with straw. “Her Highness is here.”

“I see that, Buck,” Steve said, grinning just as bright. You smiled back when he inclined his head. 

It was all for show, this you knew – had you been alone, both he and James would have embraced you tightly, and you would have sighed happily at being back in their arms. 

Idle chatter took place as they greeted Kate, and you wandered over to the stall opposite, peering inside to find your steed dozing lazily. “Hello, my love,” you whispered, watching while her ears perked up and her eyes brightened. “How are you doing? I have missed you,” you cooed, taking her muzzle in your hands and scratching gently. 

“She has been very well behaved,” Steve said suddenly, standing just behind you to reach over and scratch your mare’s ears. “She has missed you too,” he continued, before lowering his voice so only you could hear, “so have we.”

“Kate,” you called suddenly, and out of nowhere she appeared at your shoulder. “See that the guard arranges for me to take the trails, I feel the need to stretch my legs. I shall not need protection for both Steve and James will take me.”

The air became heavy with apprehension and you continued to stare at Kate, watching as her doubtful gaze and nervous fidgeting turned into an unbearable smugness. “I will see to it.”

James was staring between you and Kate before he looked at Steve, eyebrows raised. You watched Kate walk towards the barn door and pause just by the head guard, talking quietly and then she pulled him along, the others falling in step. 

“That was easy,” you said. Both James and Steve laughed. 

“Where are we going, exactly?” James asked, standing close to Steve. It was endearing to see them so close. It was as affectionate as they could be with one another out in the open. “I mean, I have no objections, but Princess, there are not many places we could take you and be hidden away from prying eyes…”

You smirked. “Sure there are, handsome.”

Steve snorted and James opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it in favour of narrowing his eyes at you – the grey of his eyes turning dark with suspicion. 

“Your clothes are still in there,” Steve said, pointing towards a closed door that led to where the royal guard’s tack was stored. “We will saddle up.” The two of them turned to two stalls, but stopped when you took one step towards the closed door. “Do you need help getting out of- you know,” Steve asked, pointing at the corset. 

It was James’ turn to snort and you shook your head, chuckling quietly. “Nice try,” James said, shoving Steve’s shoulder. “Real nice try, punk.”

“Can you blame me for trying?” Steve questioned, raising his hands in surrender. 

You only continued to shake your head and strode to the tack room, leaving the two fools to laugh and ready the horses. The outfit was nondescript, a simple pair of riding trousers and knee high boots, and since you planned on giving Steve and Bucky a run for their money, it was an easy way to blend in – no one would be able to tell that you were a royal as you rode past them as fast as the wind.

Two sabres were hidden by the door when you turned to exit, and you grabbed them, pulling down two belts from the wall that were hidden behind bridles. They would need them considering they were covertly master swordsmen, and you would feel safer, too – leaving the grounds without your guards still felt much too foreign, frightening to consider not having actual protection. 

“We’re ready, Princess,” Bucky said, his words muffled by the wooden door. “Are you okay in there?”

In lieu of an answer, you opened the door and allowed James a singular second of shock to see you in such attire, before you strode forward, dramatically ushering him out of the stupor he was stuck in and then shoving a sabre and belt into his hands. “We have little time before sun down, James, let us move.”

Steve gratefully accepted the belt and sabre, while Bucky stood there, stunned. 

You then heard a muffled curse and smirked, making a show of swiftly mounting your mare and hearing James and Steve follow suit. “Where to?” Steve asked, fastening the belt around his waist. 

“Orchard,” you stated simply. Your mare strode forward as you squeezed her sides and you smiled, feeling the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. 

Steve and James followed closely behind on their own horses, flanking you like your guards would and they eyed the crowd until you reached the gates of the fence circling the grounds. Turning in your saddle slightly, you watched the two of them exchange glances, hesitant and confused. “What is it?” James asked, brow raised as he stared into your face.

“Race you there?”

“What?” Steve gaped. He suddenly started shaking his head and you pouted. 

“Winner gets-” You trailed off, coyly stalling for time so you could shift in the saddle, your mare seeming to sense the friendly competition brewing and pawing the ground. “I know,” you gasped, making both boys jump. “Winner gets a kiss.”

“Oh, you’re on,” James said fiercely, a proud smirk on his lips. Steve still looked hesitant. “C’mon, punk, you know you want to, you want her-”

“Enough! Enough,” Steve called, blushing bright red. 

You grinned triumphantly and turned to face forward, setting yourself up properly in the saddle and slacking the reins. James and Steve walked their horses to stand either side of you and the air crackled with tension, an excitement like no other – you felt alive, and determined to win. 

“Ready?” Steve smirked, and Bucky nodded. “May the best man win,” you goaded, and your mare leapt into a gallop, tearing down the lane while you whooped. 

The wind whipped your hair back and you breathed slowly, steadily while your mare galloped, the strong muscles of her back and side rippled with the effort – she wasn’t slowing down, she was gaining ground and she was gaining it fast. “Go, girl!”

Muffled shouts of protest echoed from behind you, but you ignored them, leaning forward and slacking the reins even more and letting your steed run – the strides of her powerful legs just as fast as the blood pumping through your veins. 

It was unlike anything else, feeling the fierce power between your knees and the trust that flowed from your hands into the animal carrying you. There was no way to replicate it. The realisation made you breathless and you squeezed your legs just a little tighter, willing the impossible – like magic, your mare snorted and hastened, the speed almost throwing you from the saddle. 

You couldn’t help it, you cried out in exhilaration, your hands coming to rest on your mare’s neck while she tore around a bend, not slowing the slightest. “Almost there, girl, c’mon,” you rushed, and she huffed, powering impossibly faster. 

“Oh, come on!” Steve yelled, and you chanced a glance over your shoulder, only to laugh. James had overtaken him and had swerved to cut him off – looking not in the slightest sorry for his skulduggery. 

The trees of the orchard loomed, turning the once green trail into blooms of colour; gold, orange, and red flew by, painting a mural you would associate with victory. “Whoa, girl, easy,” you soothed, taking the reins and tightening them so she would slow to a canter, then a trot, and finally, a walk. “We won!”

Steve and James slowed their stallions to a walk, panting with the rush and grinning widely. “That you did, sweetheart,” James said, dismounting swiftly and walking towards a grove of trees. Your heart quickened at the endearment that he saved for when the three of you were truly alone. “You know what that means?”

“Yeah, rub it in, why don’t you, Buck?” Steve lamented, pouting while he followed behind his lover like a kicked lamb. 

“Oh, boys,” you cooed, dismounting and letting your mare catch her breath. The trees James led you to were close to one another, shrouding a small clearing from view of any passerby. It was the perfect hideaway – no one would find you here. “I think I want to claim my prize,” you mused, coming to a standstill just behind the two stableboys. “But I don’t know how I want it.”

Both James and Steve turned to stare at you, and you looked at them through your lashes, a small, playful smile quirking your lips. 

“I know of a way, precious,” Steve said, and he crowded you against a tree. The rough skin of his hand brushed against your cheek and you chased his lips. He swallowed the quiet gasp that you couldn’t suppress when he placed his lips over yours for a hungry kiss, claiming you in the way he knew you liked. 

“Hey, what about me?” James pouted, and Steve was suddenly ripped away from you, only to be pulled into a rough kiss with James, the show making your thighs squeeze tightly together. 

You became impatient and pulled at James’ arm, whining quietly and slotting yourself between them and asserting that you were not pleased with being left out. “I believe I am the one that won that race.”

Both of them chuckled quietly. “You did, sweetheart,” James purred and you looked up at him while Steve pressed close, his front flush with your back. 

“You deserve your reward – what d’you say, Buck?” Steve asked, moving his arm to wrap around your stomach and burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

“Oh, she does,” James replied. A harsh breath left you as Steve lightly bit the juncture of your neck and shoulder. James smirked. “That she does.”

It was dark by the time the three of you reached the stables back home, and you couldn’t help but feel excited for another excuse for a race – Kate’s smug smile and knowing glint in her eyes be damned.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[dirtyvulture]

I know it's been a bit quiet here, but I promise I'm working hard on the next part of "Darkest Knight." 🥰 Here's a sneak peek:

“You and Scott are still going strong I see,” you deflect. “No chance for us, I guess.”

“Y/N,” she says.

“Sorry,” you apologize again. Things between you and Jean have always been complicated. But a part of you will always see her as the one that got away. “Well, if you ever get tired of the Boy Scout, you know where to find me–”

“I couldn’t do that,” Jean says, and you sigh. “Besides, someone is much more interested in you than I am. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that.”

“Hmm?”

Jean pushes against your shoulder. “I had a feeling your super senses were just for show sometimes. You’ve always been a bit of a dummy.”

“Dummy? Ouch.” You feign being hurt. “And I don’t know about anyone else being interested in me, you know how boring I am.”

“She doesn’t think you’re boring,” Jean says.

“Who? Nat?” It takes you a second. “I hope you’re staying out of her head, Jean,” you disprove. “She’s kind of new to the whole mutant thing.”

“Her thoughts are almost as loud as yours,” Jean defends. “And always on you.”

“Me?” You wonder what kinds of thoughts Natasha’s had about you.

Jean shrugs. “That’s for you two to discuss. But I’m not getting in between that. Besides, you know you like her, too–”

“Stop it.” Although Jean spoke the truth, you truly couldn’t imagine Natasha wanting you. You were, well, you, with all of your trauma and issues. You had lived for centuries and never found anyone willing to settle with you. Natasha would be no different, you were sure. 

“Give her a chance. She really likes you, that’s all I’m going to say.”

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

AN: Interesting...

[anko-murasaki]

would it be alright if i wrote something for your ‘king and his knight au’ (the one w/ leper and crusader) i just really love the idea! its no problem if not!

Oh my god yes!!! I would looove to see something written for this AU! Please please please send me the link when you're done! I would absolutely love to read it!

If you could just mention me quickly in the credits I would be super grateful! But otherwise, please go ham!

[ventisettestars]

DannyMay Day 6+7: Eclipse And Weapon [ao3]

This is a continuation of Day1: Fantasy AU. [link] Next part: [link]

Summary: Sam and Tucker meet the Fae Lord Phantom with a bonus flashback to how he earned the title.

Please note things get violent near the end after Danny messes with the pendant.

WC: 2,369

“Lord Phantom” Fright Knight knelt to face his Lord. “I have secured the humans as you’ve requested. Might I inquire as to why you personally collected them?” 

Phantom rubbed between his eyes as Cujo whined for his attention next to the throne. “They are my attendants from while I’m-. Companions of mine since early childhood.” 

“I see.” 

“So.” Phantom’s gaze fell on his knight, the ring of light in the black projecting his source of power. “Do I need for you to attend to them before I make my way, or will their accommodations be adequate to please me?” 

Fright Knight stiffened. “My Lord. May I be dismissed to address and correct my misunderstandings of your relations to the humans.” 

So they got the standard 'throw the humans in a room’ treatment. “I’ll handle it myself. I’m sure they are frightened enough without you returning to move them to a new location.” He rose from his throne, waving Cujo to join with the other hounds. “Lead me to them.” 

So Fright Knight did. 

Sure enough they were in one of the more nefarious rooms in his domain. The room was pretty basic by fae standards. Lots of wooded and delicately carved furniture, cozy temperature regulated between an opened window and a fireplace that always burned with just the right amount of warmth to fend off the cold of his corner of the realm. 

What made this room so dangerous to humans was the moss that carpeted the floor. It released spores to make creatures other than fae more docile after long exposure. 

Entering the room, Tucker was the only one in view. Phantom had barely a moment to process that, before Sam burst out from the other side of the door, attacking with her dagger. 

Phantom blocked it with his armor, staring at her with his dark eyes. “Stand Down.” The slim green ring was the only indicator of where he looked and it seemed to glow brighter with his command. 

Sam, losing the only advantage she saw at the moment, relaxed her grip and let the dagger fall to the floor. Phantom smirked, knowing it wasn’t the only dagger she kept on her person. 

He bent to pick up the dagger and handed it back to her. “Hang onto this. I’ve no need to disarm you. I invited you here as guests. Have you had anything to eat or drink?”

They both shook their heads, probably feeling a bit of both hunger and thirst now that he mentioned it. That was another side effect of the moss. 

“Good. Don’t do either.” Phantom turned in the threshold. “Now then. Follow me and don’t wander.”

He walked off, and was relieved when the two followed. He wondered if maybe Tucker noticed the properties of the moss, cause they both hurried quite a bit. 

Fright Knight followed behind the two humans as extra protection, irritated that his Lord let the humans see his back. 

Once at Phantom’s personal chambers, he turned. “Thank you for the escort. Now leave us.” 

Fright Knight bowed and took his post at the end of the hall. 

“This way.” Phantom opened the door to the first room, the area was filled with lush flora and I couldn’t be considered a room as the walls vanished with only three free standing doors. The sky overhead filled with stars and a black moon, surrounded by a ring that seemed to match Phantom’s eyes. 

“An eternal eclipse. A sign of the Lord of Night.” Sam mumbled, the sky and his eyes being the only proof she needed. “Is that why you tend to hunt only on the darkest nights?”

“Yep. I didn’t realize you’d actually read my parent’s scrolls.” Phantom looked up and winced as he realized his slip. He always enjoyed this inbetween space of his, but his two natures also tended to meld here. 

“Your par-?!” Tucker gasped as he watched a resigned Phantom shift into Danny. Only, one of his eyes remained Fae looking.

“Hey, surprise?” Danny had the gull to look sheepish with a tiny wave. 

They were all silent. Danny waited on his friends before he made the next move. 

His nerves started to get the better of him as the wait till they said or reacted stretched on. He looked up to the eclipse in his sky as just something to hold his attention, when Sam finally said something. 

“So. Let me get this straight. You, the skeptic prince of Amity, are not only Fae, but a freaking Fae Lord. The fucking Lord of Night, Leader of the Winter Wild Hunt, AND the Summer King Pariah’s Bane?” 

Danny nodded. Only to turn to Tucker as he started laughing. 

“How the heck have you found the time to pull all of that off??” 

“Oh, Time in the Realms is slippery…I’m a bit older than I look…Or, I’ve got like centuries of life experience in 16 years time…?” 

“How does that even?” Tucker looked like he was trying to do the math, when Danny shrugged. 

“Don’t think about it too hard. I stopped trying to figure it out ages ago. I could be in ruling for weeks, then once I return to my room, the night wouldn’t even have passed. Don’t get my started on the pure headache of figuring out seasons and times of power.” Danny leaned as though he were going to sit, but there was no chair behind him. 

Sam was about to call out when suddenly there was a chair. She raised a brow at him. 

“What? The courts are always playing around with their politics and times of power. It might look like it’s on a 3 month calendar, but here those three months could last only a week, or years.” 

“That's absolutely fascinating, but the chair, how did it?”

“I’m the Lord of this Realm.”

“Danny, that makes no sense.” 

Tilting his head a bit, he grinned. “Good.” Letting his fae nature slip to the forefront again, he spread his wings that sparkled in starlight, “If it made sense, then I’d be a shit Lord.” 

Phantom preened and let his wings fluff a bit before they resettled into looking like his cloak. He reveled in their dumb founded stares. The lore books always hyped up ‘the fae’s gossamer wings’, so they probably assumed his raven wings were just a feathered cloak. 

“So, you both have two options. First being, go through that door.” Phantom pointed a finger at the door that looked like it belonged to Amity. “It’ll return you home sometime in the night. It’s never consistent so can’t say when. Or-” Danny shifted to Phantom. “I could give you a tour of my realm.” 

They both looked a bit concerned. But, this was Danny. Right? 

“I’m down for staying. How about you Tuck?”

“I don’t want to miss out on all the fun. So the time thing, is it that you are time traveling or-”

“Probably time dilation? Something in Infinite Realms keeps everything out of sync. I’m still expecting one of these days I’ll come here, and lose months in the Human Realm. I’ve been blessed so far.” 

“So, when’d this all-?” Tucker motioned to all of Phantom. 

“Human time, about a year ago. This is my second winter in power. You remember that charm my parents got from Duke Masters? The pretty black one with the ring.” Phantom made sure to look both of them in the eyes, drawing attention to it with a tap. Just to make sure they could see his eyes matched the charm. 

Sam gasped. “But, it was useless, did-”

“It contained the previous Lord of Night. I broke it and unsealed the binding spell. Defeated him in single combat, then tada-” He grinned, exposing his fangs. “The Realm couldn’t have a Human Lord, so it fixed that problem my first night here. I’m pretty sure that my attendant at the time helped the progress. Come on. Let me start with introducing you to Cujo!” Phantom was done discussing his rise to power.  

They both knew Danny well enough to know that it wasn’t that simple.

-----one and half years ago

The pendant was pretty, and that was about the only thing it was good for. Duke Masters had sent it in place of taxes this month. Claiming it to be a ‘fae trinket’, his parents eagerly accepted it in place of taxes. Which really ticked Danny off. Duke Masters had more than enough coin to spare. Had it been a villager that painted a rock, he would’ve been less ticked off about it. 

But it was the richest of their people that pulled this bullshit. Danny was running his hand over it, attempting to see how the man had made the rock to produce the glow. It didn’t seem to be the work of wizardry. Least from what the court wizard observed. 

The fae might have been a thing in the past, but now, people going missing in the woods were just unfortunate victims to nature. Not whisked away to some magical realm. It was all just fairy tales. 

His nail caught in the glowing circle on the charm. There was a divot there. He picked at the spot with his nail at first, but then tried at it with a dagger-like letter opener. Finally, a small enough nick was formed, but rather than just looking scratched, shadows burst and the air grew thin. A figure emerged, everything about them deathly white from their features to clothes, to large feathered wings.

“Foolish Mortal. You’ve done me a service by freeing me, but as my sentence wasn’t fully served, you’ve committed a crime to the realm. For that, you must face your punishment. I shall even show you mercy and deliver your death quickly.” 

A sword materialized in the being’s - the fae’s hand. They went to strike, the bone white blade swinging down. 

Danny wasn’t going to just die just like that. So with the only weapon at his disposal, he blocked using the letter opener he’d been holding. 

The bone blade was deflected to Danny’s relief, but it has cut the tip from his own blade. In a panicked thought, at least the blade was sharper now. 

It did little to comfort him as the fae continued to strike. Danny focused more on dodging since he couldn’t afford his blade getting any smaller. Everything the bone blade connected with was cut as though it were butter. Least it wasn’t the poor letter opener’s fault. 

The blade nicked his arm and Danny had never felt such pain before. It was cold, but it burned. Distantly he remembered learning about sensory death to cells when they were damaged to the point of no longer being able to regenerate feeling. 

He couldn’t afford another hit, so Danny lunged with his little blade. He wasn’t sure where he was aiming, he just didn’t want to die. He didn’t-

The bone blade was through his chest, pain flared so bad he almost didn’t notice the blood pouring from the fae’s neck. Danny’s dagger had struck just right, that the fae lost their grip on the blade as they began to sink to the floor.

“How-?” Their voice was weak. “You’re but a mere child…”

“Looks-” Danny coughed. “Looks like you picked the wrong prince to try to punish.” 

The fae’s form began to turn to dust, their blade following along. 

With the blade gone, Danny’s wound started to bleed with more flow. Shit, he knew it was bad to remove a weapon like that. He tried to apply pressure, unable to call for help. Come to think of it, where were his guards? 

They should’ve-

The dust started to rise, though there was no wind. 

It seemed to whisper. “Youngling. Do you wish to die a mortal, or continue on…” 

Danny thought it’d be dumb to reply. He was probably just dilutional from blood loss. Of course he didn’t want to die. He wasn’t done yet.

Without replying, the hallucinated whisper responded. “Wise choice…” 

The swirling dust flew at him, and into the chest wound. The pain stopped. At least from the wound. 

Danny could feel the dust, spiraling through him. He couldn’t tell if his blood was boiling or freezing, he couldn’t even scream. Or maybe he was screaming? 

No one came rushing to his aid though. He collapsed and the last thing he was aware of, was chains, that seemed to emerge from where his once wound had been, began to wrap around his body. Moving almost like snakes to bind him. 

He vaguely was aware that they‘d be gone when he woke next. 

“Danny, there you are.” Danny peaked open an eye at the voice calling to him. Tucker was- 

“Dude, we’ve been looking all over for you. Sleeping at your desk is going to make your back suffer.” This time it was Sam. 

“Sorry, I-” Danny sat up. How did he get to his desk, and-? He looked to his letter opener, it wasn’t in two? And the Pendant. The glowing ring on it was gone. It was just a shiny black rock. 

“I guess I’ve been working too hard.” It was all a dream?

“Probably. You should head to an actual bed, or I’ll tell Jazz.”

Danny gestured in mock offense. “You wouldn’t dare bother the kind princess with something so petty.” 

“I would, and she’d take you off your duties for a week.” 

“Then there would be a back log…” Danny got up and grabbed the pendant. “In all seriousness, I might actually be working too hard. I didn’t even notice I’d fallen asleep.”

“Then get to bed sleepy head. Want an escort?”

“Nah, you both can head home. Thanks for waking me up. If Jazz had found me asleep there, it would’ve been bad.”

They both waved him off. 

Once in his room, Danny's reflection caught his eye. Right in the center of his chest there was a glowing scar. It was where the blade had gone through. It pulsed with each heartbeat. 

Danny had a feeling getting any sleep tonight was going to be impossible. 

-----

It took a week til he noticed the door appear that no one else could see. Then another few days till he gave into the temptations to enter it.

End notes:

The eclipse is Danny's eyes and the pendant so I couldn't figure out a good place to separate the two chapters cause Walker's Bone Blade was going to be for Weapon, so I just didn't x'DD

Hope you enjoy this cause I got more planned for the Fantasy AU (It'll probably get it's own fic after DannyMay with some edits.)

[elegantsplendour]

Of Blossom and Betrayal

Summary:

AU: Green victory, the realm called for a new queen after Queen Helena's demise

Seraphina Tyrell did not belong to the worldly realm of Westeros; a lone child conceived of loyalty, love and devotion. A beacon like her attracts the darkest of souls, in the darkest of times.

💌 Aegon II Targaryen and Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: manipulation, abuse of power, mentions of rape, slight underage, dub con, violence. Specific warnings will be added at the beginnings of each chapter.

Cast

Chapter 1

Prologue: Highgarden

Tag list: @purple-writer8 @vhagarswar @femmechaotic

Other friends: @boundlessfantasy @arcielee @qyburnsghost

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Lord Lyonel Tyrell was a man of honour, loyalty and vigilance. Succeeding in remaining neutral, assuring his family’s survival and maintaining the influence of his house in one of the bloodiest war since Aegon’s Conquest, if not of all of Westerosi history, was an accomplishment that many of his position had dreamt of.

Loyalty? He laughed bitterly at the memory of the bright and confident smile on his long gone brother Bryan’s departing figure to King’s Landing to serve under Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Be loyal to no one but his family, his loved ones.

It was the code he had lived by since Bryan’s unexpected tragic demise at the hands of Rogue Prince himself, a man his poor brother, the innocent messenger sent by King Viserys, admired and sworn loyalty to, fourteen years ago.

Lyonel remembered the day the news of his demise reached his father, the former lord of Highgarden.

People sing that there were six stages of grief.

Shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

But when it came to a devoted seventy two year old father, the grief ended in the very first.

Two days later, Lyonel, the second son, whose ambitions never surpassed the allure of marrying Lady Jayne Lannister and sampling the finest wines and sugary with his beloved, inherited the legacy he had never been prepared for.

The Targaryens will always do what’s best for the Targaryens.

Those were his late father’s last words.

To survive the Targaryen rule, Lyonel played by their rules. Schemes, betrayals, deceptions and bloodshed? He did not shy away from them. He bore the burden so his family, his people, didn’t have to.

With his hands on the cold balcony, Lord of Highgarden bathed the fresh air of flowers, the peaceful chirping of insects, the giggling of young maids and the distant melodies from the small folks returning to their homes after a long day of labour.

This was his empire he defended.

One of loyalty, honour and love.

His beloved Jayne, her arms wrapped around his waist.

Seraphina, his precious jewel, his sweet little rose, the one and only fruit of his and Jayne's love's many attempts at blooming.

His Lancel, Bryan's illegitimate offspring, whom he had taken under the Tyrell bloodline, a fierce and honorable knight, a fine protector, his heir.

“Lord Ormund has written again,” Jayne rested her head on his shoulder, her golden curls soothing his skin as much as his mind, “The letter touched me, the words he’s chosen, the sincerity of his voice. He truly desires a betrothal between his first born and Seraphina.”

Jayne traced her fingers on her husband’s cheeks, “He wishes to introduce them in King’s Landing.”

“King’s Landing?” Lyonel frowned deeply, “It should be fit for them to present themselves to Highgarden, especially when Phina was the one who treated their wounded bodies in the woods, risking the slaughter of the ruthless Northerners.”

Jayne swallowed hard as she recalled the turbulent times of the war.

Although negotiations, strategies and armies kept the castle away bloodshed and dragon fire, the walls were not impenetrable to whimpers of loss and screams agony from the highborn’s well acquainted soldiers calling the Rose without Thorns to their rescue, even at the interdiction of her parents.

Every time the Rose sneaked away from safety, the Lord and Lady of Highgarden sobbed while the peasants and soldiers rejoiced. Her empathetic smile, attentiveness to their wounds and of course, the herbs and food she had carried with her ignited the flicker of hope in the darkest times.

One fateful day, Seraphina stumbled upon two injured knights bedecked in green armor, hidden in the woods—Ormund and Daryn Hightower, gasping for air, on the brink of death from the Battle of Tumbleton.

As Seraphina returned with the blood stained figures of the castle, Lyonel and Jayne’s anger and fear exacerbated.

Highgarden had remained unharmed because of its neutrality that their naive daughter had just broken.

Yet, the gods seemed to show them mercy, perhaps in honor of the lives House Tyrell defended. The Blacks remained oblivious to this act, which could be seen as a declaration of allegiance. Instead, Seraphina’s uncalculated move of benevolence eaned House Tyrell a favourable position in the new Targaryen court: an intimate alliance with the most influential house beside the new king.

As Lyonel contemplated the offer in silence, Jayne squeezed his hand, “Daryn is a handsome, brave and honourable young man. I recognized the look on his face when Seraphina brought him back from the wild,” she pressed a kiss on cheek, “It’s the same way you looked at me years ago, lord husband.”

Lyonel’s gaze softened as he enveloped his wife into his arms with a light chuckle, “Your jest on formality never cease, my love. If the young Hightower truly feels the same about our daughter as I did to you twenty five years ago,” he cupped her cheeks, “Then, perhaps, that boy deserves her hand.”

Jayne held her husband tightly, relishing his scent and warmth. In a world cruel as this, she thanked to the gods everyday for granting her a man of his devotion, wisdom and strength.

“To King’s Landing then?”

“To King’s Landing,” Lyonel nodded before rolling his eyes, his never dying youthful side emerging, “Where the drunken king will be holding a foolish lavish pageant while his people starve. Seven bless the poor girl he will choose as the new queen.”

Jayne laughed wholeheartedly before tending to his arm, returning to the warmth of the interior, “You know, fate favoured us immensely,” she whispered with a mixture of gratitude and anxiety, “If we had agreed to the Kinslayer’s proposal in marriage-“

Lyonel suddenly gripped the touch of her hand, “Thank the wisdom my father and brother had bestowed me. Never trust a Targaryen. The rumours of…” disturbance and disgust written all over his face, “Lady, now a Princess, Cassandra Baratheon’s screams of pain echoed through the Red Keep on her wedding night. I cannot imagine-“

He buried his face in his hands as he sat down with his wife next to the fireplace.

Jayne brushed his hair with adoration, “Don’t overthink about the past, my love. Phina is about to marry a good man.”

The lord smiled as he lifted his head to face his beloved, “Everything I risked, I fought for, it was worth it. For you, for her, for Lancel, and for our people.”

Jayne kissed him passionately before whispering, “You are too good for this world, Lyonel Tyrell.”

As the stars gracefully pirouetted around the moon in the embrace of the night's darkness, and with the imminent date of embarking on the journey to King's Landing drawing near, the wheel of fate began its inevitable revolution once more.

[sunnebeam]

DISCLAIMERS:

stand-ins — bts and the other people mentioned in my works are merely face and/or name stand-ins. in no way am i claiming that the actions done by the characters in my stories depict the actual lives of these real life public figures.

fiction — the events in my works are fictional. some may be loosely inspired by real life events, some may be inspired by other media, and some may just be purely coincidental. but again, they are all fictional and are happening just inside my head.

content — my works will dabble into mature, explicit, and/or dark themes. readers who are uncomfortable with potential triggering content are discouraged from reading. minors should also take their reading experience elsewhere and not interact where inappropriate.

reader-insert — all of my works are reader-inserts and the main characters are written as female, but i write in second person (for a more gender-neutral approach) and i do my best to not focus too much on physical traits. if physical descriptions do end up in the final drafts (e.g. hair length, skin tone, eye color), please know that these are unintentional and are not meant to exclude anyone!

feedback — since this is a side blog, i can't reply back under posts. i appreciate feedback in every form, but asks are generally better and more preferred!

copyright — my works are completely my own. in no way should these should be copied, stolen, and/or plagiarized. as of now, i only post on tumblr so if you see my works on other sites (ao3, wattpad, etc.), please tell me because those are most likely plagiarized.

KIM NAMJOON

before, after, forever.

drabble — smut (18+), knight au, mulan au

KIM SEOKJIN

one more kiss.

drabble — smut (18+), cursed au

MIN YOONGI

darkest little paradise.

drabble series — smut (18+), mafia au, sex work

perks of being a househusband.

drabble series — the way of the househusband au

— the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

JUNG HOSEOK

good for a weekend.

drabble — smut (18+), blank space au, chaebol au

PARK JIMIN

stolen kisses, pretty lies.

drabble — smut (18+), revenge au

KIM TAEHYUNG

fall from grace.

drabble — smut (18+), royalty au

JEON JUNGKOOK

city of lights.

drabble series — smut (18+), gangster squad au

twin flame bruise.

series — jeon twins au, college au, love triangle

— the jeon twins have become nothing more than two strikingly similar looking guys who share a mere home address and a last name. but in their senior year of college, the estranged twins may have found one more thing they share in common – you.

FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

[bythepen98]

Tomarry 💚❤️️

Time Travel au (brief)

It was Harry who decided that Tom looked comfy enough to sleep on and obviously Tom wasn't going to say no to that. He's the kind of obsessive bastard who can't function without constantly touching Harry in some way or another, so acting as Harry's makeshift bed during his naps is a dream come true. Harry thinks that the horcrux inside him might have addictive, maybe even healing?, properties to the main body, or something along those lines, because why else would Tom be all clingy with him considering their less than stellar beginning? but being touch starved himself, he welcomes it and tries not to think too hard about how nice it feels holding hands with his supposed nemesis whenever they walk down the halls together in school. He also keeps the image of Ron and Hermione giving him the side eye locked very tightly in a box, shoved firmly in the darkest corner of his mind, whenever situations - like him deciding to visit Tom in the Slytherin common room and proceeding to glomp on him while they're in the middle of a Knights meeting - happen. (Cue Knights going bug eyed as Tom, unphased, readjusts Harry in his lap and continues on with the meeting. It will happen often enough that the members don't bat an eyelash to such occurrences anymore and decide not to question the ambiguous nature of their relationship either bc a content Tom is a less crucio happy Tom.) Bottom line: Harry's perfectly fine with living in denial, thank you very much, because as far as he is concerned, he's not the savior of anything anymore in this reality. A sane and very handsome*cough* Tom Riddle who somehow sees him and his opinions in high regard, is willing to take a less radical route regarding his still world dominating plans (Harry will take what he can get bc he knows a lost cause when he sees one), has no qualms giving him affection and promises to spoil him rotten as long he stays by his side? Yeah, even Merlin won't be able to convince him to go back to his old timeline. He's fine with seeing his old friends again in a different, hopefully better, future.

:')☝️☝️

kofi ⭐https://ko-fi.com/i/IB0B1N306Z