#fantasci snippet

[thepenultimateword]

A continuation of @some-messed-up-writing-for-you's prompt #1211!

The human trudged through the snow, harsh wind billowing against them and biting at their skin. Frozen-over stairs nearly slipped from beneath them. At the last step, their exhaustion won.

They fell into the snow, just barely shielding the bundle in their arms. And between their frozen eyelashes, the human saw a sliver of light before a pair of clawed feet slowly approached them.

The end of a metal spear hovered in the air, ready to strike as the monster growled at them. With arms heavier than lead, the human unraveled the cloth in their hold.

A tiny snout poked out and scrunched up at the cold, yowling unhappily. The growling stopped.

"P-Plea-ase..." the human begged, teeth chattering relentlessly. "S-Save t-t-them..."

The monster pried the woman's frozen fingers from the child's blankets, cradling their little body close to his heart and the boiling blood coursing through it. The child immediately quieted.

"Th-thank you," the human woman murmured, slumping onto her hands.

The monster spared a flick of his tail as he climbed the first couple steps toward the wall. He hesitated. Too many questions. He swung his spear over his back, essentially holstering it, and crouched in front of her, impressed that she did not flinch. "Is it yours?"

"What?"

"The monster dipped his head meaningfully toward the bundle of fur and fangs. "Is. It. Yours?"

The woman's lashes and lids were already too frosted to produce tears, but her lip trembled. "Y-yes. B-but...please...he's half creature. H-he'll l-learn. H-he'll f-f-fit in. Please."

"No, that's not what I was..."

The woman swayed a little on her hands, head lolling. The monster still had so many questions, but obviously not much time to ask them. With a rumbling sigh, he looped an arm around her middle, eliciting a quiet whimper as he tucked her next to her child.

"They're going to suspend me from wall duty for this," he muttered. Well, he never much liked wall duty anyway.

***

" Magnum!" The woman shot upright, arm stretched out in front of her, reaching for the bleeding, wolf-scruffed figure she could still almost see behind her eyes. He faded as quickly in dream as in reality, replaced by the dusty floors and weapon-decorated walls of a bedroom. A crackling hearth illuminated the room in dim, orange light, stretching her shadow as she pulled back the roughspun covers and stepped one bare foot onto the hardwood.

As she turned around the room, a realization struck. Everything, from the twin-bed to the chipped armoire to the fireplace ledge, was enlarged or stretched. Unnaturally so. An image of Magnum, scrunched up in the bed at home, tail tucked tight, the odd limb dangling over the mattress, flashed across her mind, and everything cleared. This was no human bedroom.

On cue, the door squealed, and a tall, mawed creature, covered from head to toe in black feathers, stepped across the threshold. His eyes widened a fraction at the sight of her awake and standing.

"I wouldn't be on your feet just yet. You're badly frostbitten."

The human blinked, shifting her gaze down to her mottled toes, suddenly accosted by a warm, almost burning sensation beneath her skin. She slowly held her hands out in front of her, finding equal coloring as well as a mess of cracks and blisters. She could only imagine what her face looks like after such a trek.

She did not sit.

"Where's Finch?"

The creature stared a moment, then making the connection said, "I entrusted the child with a friend who knows much more of younglings than I. I will take you to him, but first, answers."

"Answers?" the human ignored her stinging soles and took a challenging step forward. "That should be my line. Where am I? Who are you? Why am I still alive? Where is my baby?"

The creature took an equally aggressive step, looming over her squared shoulders and raised chin with born fangs. "Beyond the wall, where I so graciously allowed you passage when you trespassed our land. My name Dionyus, aka, your savior. You're alive because I've allowed it, and you're baby is safe and sound two doors down. Satisifed?"

"I'm never satisfied."

"It shows. My turn. What possessed you to enter ada territory?"

She frowned. "Ada?"

"Your kind call us creatures."

"Oh." A thin wash of shame traveled over her. She hadn't realized there was a proper name for the people. Magnum hadn't told her. Magnum probably hadn't known. Another injustice to the long list of injustices that made up his short life. "I was searching for the wall. I heard creatures--er, adas--here take in refugees. And orphans. So I brought Finch. Who I'd like back now by the way."

Dionyus scoffed. "You were all too keen to pawn him off on the nearest bystander yesterday."

"Yes, when I thought I was about to die, but obviously, I did not, so give him back."

The feathers on the nape of Dionyus's neck and the backs of his arms stood on end. "Has anyone told you that you're a much different person when you're dying?"

"I wouldn't be caught dead dying." She swept passed him much more awkwardly and wobbly than she'd intended, but still managed a few steps toward the open door before the ada stopped her with a clawed hand. She briefly noted they did not match their opposite extremities, which were more like the dark, avian, feet of a crow, whereas these were something like paws.

"Is Finch really yours?"

The human jerked her arm free, and rather than digging in, the ada's claws skimmed off her. "Yes, he's mine! Look at his mouth! Look at his eyes!"

"Why does a human woman have an ada child?"

"Well, when two people love each other very much--"

"You know that's not what I mean!"

"None of your business!"

It all came out too harsh, but she'd been interrogated, shamed, and threatened over Finch too many times now for patience.

She dropped her raw face into her hands, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I'm sorry. You helped us, helped him, and I'm acting horrible. I'm just... Do you have kids?"

"No." Dionyus's tufted ears flattened. "But I had littermates."

"Then you understand. What it's like to love someone too deep? Like a fire that burns too hot, willing to incinerate everything else around it? The fangs that come with the desire, no the need to protect them?"

He shifted. "I do."

"I will try to answer your questions later. But please, please take me to my son."

Dionyus's jaw clenched, but eventually, he nodded, stepping out of her way so she could hobble to the door.

"Last thing," he asked as he took the lead, barely looking at her. "What's your name?"

"Maeve."

Part Two

Master Taglist:

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[watercolorfreckles]

hi, thank you so much for your wonderful writing :))

I've especially loved reading Deep Blue and I was wondering if you...do continuations? if not that's totally okay, just thought I'd ask :)

have some ice cream :) 🍦

Thank you, thank you! Sorry for taking so long to get to this request. Hope you like it!

Deep Blue - Pt. 4

siren x pirate

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

When his eyelids parted again, the midday sun split the room, haloing the sleeping siren in a honey blaze. Her hair pooled around her head in golden spires where she'd sunken against the cotton pillow during the night.

Her shoulders swam beneath the gauzy knit of the pirate's shirt, pearl-pink skin peeking free. She smelled of the ocean, all salted breezes and chalky sands.

She seemed peaceful, chest swelling with even breaths. An outsider may have labeled her harmless.

The pirate knew better.

His fingers itched to caress the delicate curls framing the siren's forehead all the same. The supernatural charm of a siren, he told himself. He caught his hand when it twitched halfway to action.

He stood up, tearing himself away from the magnetic pull of her. He turned around, shaking out the clumped waves of his hair. His clothes, too, were scratchy with the crust of dried salt. The folds of fabric creased like paper.

He stepped outside and cranked out several pumps of water from the rusted spigot, scrubbing it over his face and hair. The cool droplets streamed fissures down his neck and chest. He pumped fresh palm-fulls to spread over the rest of his exposed skin.

"If you're trying to drown yourself, I can do a much better job of it."

The pirate startled, straightening. "Golden. You're...- How are you feeling?"

Clinging to the open door, the siren stood awkwardly on foreign limbs. The hem of his shirt hung a few inches above her knees; a curtain brushing against his clumsy first aid.

Though her posture painted her a wounded damsel, her eyes were predator-sharp. It set his teeth on edge and sent something primal in his instincts jangling.

The siren's nose crinkled, scanning their surroundings. He tracked her gaze as it roamed over every rock and tree and bump of the earth. "What is that smell?"

The cabin boy snorted, cranking fresh water into his hands to dump over his head. "Dirt."

"Repugnant.”

"Yeah, well... As much as I love it, the smell of salt water and fish can get old as well."

When he glanced up again, he studied the siren more closely. Instead of itchy, irritated skin--sun-dried and chapped--she was glowing as ever. Her golden hair hung in silken waves hardly so much as mussed by his rough sheets, not gritty and salt-riddled as his own locks had been. Her skin faintly shimmered in the daylight.

The only thing about her that wasn't perfect was the red stain weeping through the muddied fabric of her bandage.

Her eyes followed the drip drops puddling beneath the spigot. She wet her lips.

The cabin boy watched her. "Are you thirsty?"

As he'd learned from his hours of curious reading, most sea creatures didn't drink water. They gained their hydration through the food they ate, or their bodies were designed to filter out the harmful sully of salt from the seas they swam in.

Though, his siren was a sea creature no more.

Her feet twitched, seemingly with the urge to take a step, but she hesitated, toeing the wooden step's treacherous edge without letting go of the door.

A small smile cracked the pirate's lips. This creature who had held his life in her hands mere hours prior, capable of capsizing ships and carving out the hearts of men, was afraid to walk. Afraid to fall.

Gravity did have an unforgiving vice above water that it didn't below, weightless and languid in all its honeyed drifting.

He found himself standing in front of her. Ever drawn to her as a moth to its fiery death.

She hissed at him when he offered his hands toward her, sounding like a startled housecat. Jerking back, her heels snagged the rim of the top stair and she fell with a yelp. "Don't touch me!"

Though the cabin boy held up his palms in surrender, the mermaid swiped at him with dull, paddy fingers for good measure.

"Easy," he said, "I was only going to help you."

"Why?"

His brow creased. "...Why?"

"Why are you trying to help me at all?" she demanded.

"You saved my life."

"I tried to drown you! You should have left me there, I would have been better off! Your 'help' is a scourge, a curse!" She pushed herself up onto wobbly feet, smacking his hand away when the pirate reached out again, reflexively, to assist her.

He heaved a sigh, stepping back. “You would have bled to death.”

“It would have been better!” There was something terribly broken in her voice. A windchime once ringing melodic lullabies now cracked and shrieking. She staggered down the remaining two steps, swaying unsteadily on her heels. Her voice softened. “It would have been better than this.”

Guilt twisted the cabin boy’s stomach. “Golden…”

“No. I am now a prisoner in this…weak, defiled body. I have been stripped of every last thread of my identity. My tail, my strength– The ocean has disowned me, I am cursed to die a fumbling human. There is no greater disgrace! I want nothing more from you.” She shoved past him, limping and teetering as she went.

“Where are you going? You’re injured, hungry, and wearing nothing more than my shirt,” the pirate protested, following after her. “You can’t venture into town like that. Many men would take that as an invitation–”

The siren rounded on him, promptly stumbling and catching herself against his shoulders. Her eyes were alight like an August day.

“I know perfectly well what your kind feels entitled to when they come upon a beautiful woman. That is the very foundation of why you are so easily captured under our sway,” she spat. “Your desires overwhelm you, and our songs coax you to believe you can have all you want if only you surrender to us. I cannot make you believe what you do not already want to. You invade our home and hunt us in our own waters, you take and take and take, then call us monsters when we do not let you have us too. As if we are sunken treasure for you to pluck from the seafloor and sell to the next hungry pirate.”

Any response he had readied died behind the cabin boy’s teeth. He wanted to protest that they ‘weren’t all like that.’ That some pirates led with honor, and that many men were decent. He was decent, wasn’t he?

And yet… He still felt homesick for his captain, his crew, his ship. The very ones who cast him to his death for the mutinous act of having a heart.

He swallowed. “I freed you.”

“And for that alone, I spared you. Yet you damned me. Spare me further humiliation and leave me alone.” The siren gave his shoulders a sharp squeeze before letting go, limping away again in the direction she had chosen.

His eyes followed her, clumsy and graceless, all the way to the start of the dirt road that led into the village.

She would certainly be a spectacle there. With shimmery skin and perfect hair of spun gold, eyes like winter fire and only half dressed, she would steal the attention of every human she passed.

She might be found out for what she was. She might be overpowered and hurt, or taken advantage of.

The possibilities burned through him.

She’d begged him to stay away…

The siren’s bare feet kicked up dust along the path that sent her coughing, batting at the air with the same fury she’d faced him with moments prior.

The sight coaxed a tentative smile from the pirate’s mouth. Cursing the sky, the earth, the gods of sea and shore and everything else, he followed after the grounded mermaid.

He would not be responsible for any more of her misfortune. Even if it cemented his own.

He’d always thought the ocean to be fair, even in all its cruelty. It did not shrink itself for the convenience of others. Its crashing swells that swallowed ships whole did not ask for any less from the creatures within it.

He had to believe that there was hope for her, his siren, creature of water and night and song. She would be whole again. He had to try.

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[amethystpath-writes]

A Pomegranate Sunset

NOT A PR0MPT

******

“I thought you never wanted to see me again.” The sorceress curled her legs beneath her body, against the red and clumped sand of the battlefield. The soldier she sat across from was one she was all-too-familiar with.

“I need your help.”

“You want healed," she hummed, and her red hair whipped around her face in such thin tendrils that Hero was surprised they didn't slice her cheeks like a blade. "Last we spoke, you told me you would defy death so you and I never met again. Now look at you. Blood on your lips.”

The sorceress could arrive on her own, when a soldier, or many, of her kingdom died. She came to clear the battlefield of her people. She did so now, her toes curling in the bloody sand as she reached a hand towards a dead soldier, the one whose blood she sat atop of. The soldier vanished. His afterlife would be a clean slate, no lingering messes which made him wish he were still alive, with comrades or family back at home. He wouldn’t suffer, for he never asked to stay alive. He would reach Bliss- nothingness.

If she were summoned, the sorceress would save the one who called on her. They were easy to spot, for the only way to summon her as a savior was to taste the blood of a fallen comrade. These men always had blood on their lips, just like Hero.

He held a hand against a wound on his stomach. “Please. I have someone to return to.”

“You know what it would mean if you did this?”

Hero took a breath. Being saved meant he broke his vow to his kingdom; he would have rejected a dignified death. He would be banished to an afterlife with the sorceress. He would face a life without sentiment, with a woman who loved him, but whose love he could never return.

“I always wanted you in the afterlife. I never thought it would come at the cost of you loving another woman.”

“We were children.”

“I held out for you,” she whispered. The jagged edge in her voice, the cutting edge which told him she held contempt, was gone.

Then you were naive. But what choice did she have in the matter? She was trained all her life to serve the soldiers of their kingdom, to make them an afterlife worth fighting for, to punish them when they didn’t appreciate the gift, to love them and the wars they fought. She was only ever taught to fall in love.

“You saw me when no one else did.”

“I was being kind.” They warned him not to get too close. ‘She’s dangerous.’ He didn’t understand it then, but he did now. Knowing she had full control of whether he died in this moment and was banished to an afterlife with a lonely sorceress- herself- or whether he went home to the love of his life...it made his palms sweat. His stomach stung from the salt.

Hero prayed. He wasn’t supposed to. The gods were meant to be scorned, while his sorceress received the praise. Right now, he saw no other choice. Secretly, he always worshipped the gods, and believed they would grant him a peace which was deserved, not vowed. They would save him.

"If you love me at all," Hero panted, "you will help me get home."

"You are going to be my Hell, you know that?" She slid across the ground to another body, which she touched, and promptly made disappear. Another soul sent into nihilism. "I will send you home and you will come back to me. Then, I will be forced to love you when you have no care for me at all. We will both be punished, and what will my misery be for? What have I done, Hero?"

"You are kind," he said, "and kindness must be met with consequence. The person who perseveres through that unfairness is the strongest of them all."

"And what if I do not care about strength?"

He was bleeding out. His hand didn't possess the strength, nor his mind the will, to hold his wound. "You choose to be strong like you choose to be kind, to love. If nothing else, you choose it because it is all you know."

She breathed. It was all she could do; it was all she knew. Looking at the bodies around her, she knew she had so much work to do. She would be here for hours- walking to one body, kneeling, touching them, and moving to the next. Body after body after body.

In another moment, she stood and held her palm out to the sky. In her hand, a pomegranate appeared, red and glistening in the sun like every other drop of blood on the field.

"If the woman you love is worth both our miseries, you will crawl to this fruit and eat every aril." She broke the pomegranate between two hands, ignoring the juice that dripped down her white and bloodied dress, and then she dropped both halves where the first soldier's body was. If Hero made it, he would taste the blood on the fruit, and she would be summoned again. She would save him.

***

As the sun set, the sorceress returned to her pomegranate. It was uneaten and untouched, though the whites of it had become yellowed from exposure to the air.

Hero's fingers were curled just short of the fruit. So close, yet so far away. If kindness was always met with consequence, she wondered why the scene before her felt so good. She was liberated, out of love.

Leaning down, she picked up one half of the fruit before plucking an aril and placing it on her tongue as she watched the sun finish setting over the field of red sand.

Every soldier had reached Bliss, and every sorceress, too.

******

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Dai Discovers Part 1: Happy Dai

A/N: Hi hi friends! Just a couple important things to know going in: First, this series is about Dai, a half mage/half Dragon who’s been hibernating for a LONG time and has just woken up in the modern world.😇 Second, the wolves and mages in the region are on the brink of war.😈

(For more on my version of Dragons, see this world building post)

Vincent: 

I frowned as I crossed out an entire paragraph of text from the document I’d been editing for hours, wishing the Elders hadn’t felt the need to insert their opinions into my negotiations with the mages. 

Now not only were they insisting we uphold the ancient tradition that a treaty was only credible if accompanied by a marriage between the two sides, they wanted to include all of the wolves’ ancient marriage traditions as well. I’d agree to marry under the light of the full moon, but there was no way I would be wearing a four foot tall headpiece. 

I just wanted our people to stop fighting each other. Why did everyone have to make it so complicated? 

I glanced longingly at the slit of night sky visible through the crack in the heavy hotel curtains, but there was no time for even a quick jaunt in the moonlight. 

Tomorrow morning the leaders of all the mages and wolves in the region would gather for the official opening of the peace summit, the meeting where I would see for the first time the mage who’d agreed to marry me to seal the treaty between our people.

My future wife had arrived at the hotel mere hours ago. Simon and Tori had seen her enter with her brother, Lord Jasper, but she’d been bundled in so many hooded layers the only description they’d been able to give was “average height and reeked of gold.” 

Sighing, I turned back to the long list of potential stipulations for the treaty. The next one was a heavy paragraph outlining how the mages must provide a volunteer to live with and perform spells at our bidding. I rolled my eyes and reached for my pen. The mages made their livelihood by providing their magical services for a fee, why would any of them ever agree to offer them for free?

I was crossing out the ridiculous stipulation when the door to the hotel room beeped open. 

I stayed bent over the thick document, making a note in the margins.  “What is it, Daman?” 

“We think she ran, sir.” 

My head shot up. “How do you know?” 

The quiet blond shifted uncomfortably. “Well, sir, we’ve been keeping an eye on their hallway like you ordered and, well, the shower is still on.” 

I raised a brow. “And?’ 

“It’s just well, we heard it turn on at seven.” 

I checked my watch. 

9:17

I ran a hand through my hair. “You think she climbed out the bathroom window, 13 stories up?” 

Daman shrugged. “They did say she was half Dragon.” That didn’t mean she had wings. 

Did she truly consider a 13 story drop less terrifying than me? Was it this marriage of alliance or the treaty itself that she was more opposed to? I closed my eyes at the thought of this treaty failing, and was assaulted by the vivid memory of acrid smoke and ash-filled air. The charred remnants of Aiza’s house crumbling around me. 

I refused to let one mage’s trepidation destroy everything I’d been working for. I would not let my people fall to this senseless violence. I was halfway to the elevator before I made the conscious decision to move. Daman trailed behind me. 

“And the other mages?” I pressed. Surely they hadn’t all fled. 

“None of the other mages were brave enough to book rooms in the same hotel as us,” Daman reminded me. “They’re all across the street. So we didn’t have to worry about being caught spying.” Daman added, and I recalled that the mage lord had been surprisingly unconcerned about staying alone a mere elevator ride away from a company of wolves. 

Samuel met us as the elevator opened on the 13th floor, the scowl on his face carrying into his gruff words. “It’s still running.” 

I led the way to room 1307. The doors were placed farther apart on this floor—luxury suites. We passed 1310, and even with the thick walls, it was easy for my sharpened sense of hearing to pick up the dialogue of the movie playing in the room. In 1309 a mother hushed a fussing baby, the sound rising over the low snores of a second child. 

The front desk had offered to upgrade my party to this VIP floor at no charge, but I was content with our double set of rooms on the second floor. I liked knowing I could jump off the balcony if I needed a quick exit.

Slowing to a stop outside another identical polished dark wood door, I cocked my head to the side and listened. 

But no voices came from 1307. 

Just the constant white noise of the running shower, and the faintest traces of background music. Like a TV left on at its lowest volume. 

My fist connected with the door a little too loudly, my tapping foot continuing the impatient beat as I waited for the door to swing open. A long moment passed. 

I knocked again, louder. 

No response. 

It was strange. Worrying. Lord Jasper should have been in the room as well. He’d been less than thrilled to offer up his sister as a sacrificial lamb, and tension coiled within me at the thought of him secreting her away. 

“No one left the room?” I confirmed as I pounded my fist against the door once more. 

Daman shook his head. “We’ve had eyes on it all night.” 

It had been easy with no other mages around to catch us spying. I’d been secretly pleased when I learned they’d be staying somewhere else, though in truth, Lord Jasper had looked nearly happy when the other mages had announced their intention to stay in the sister hotel across the road. His reaction baffled me at the time, because it hinted at either a misplaced willingness to trust his enemies or an over exaggerated confidence in his power. Neither of which matched my initial impression of the leader of the mages. 

In our interactions thus far, the mage lord had appeared to be level-headed and optimistic. Which hinted at ulterior reasons for wanting to be separate from the others. 

At the moment, I didn't much care what his motives were, I just wanted him to answer the door. 

They were both gone? If so, there would definitely be no peace treaty. 

What if he’d planned to sneak his sister out? Perhaps that was why he’d chosen to stay in this hotel. It could have been his plan all along. 

Hot anger flared in my chest and I rammed my shoulder into the door. Wood splintered and metal bent as the door flew open at the force of the blow. Across the room, Lord Jasper bolted to his feet, pulling his large headphones down around his neck. The peaceful--yet loud--instrumentals of the Planet Earth theme song filled the room in sharp contrast to the tension hanging in the air. 

A quick touch to the headphones and the music cut off abruptly. 

The typically cheerful mage eyed me, and I wondered what sort of picture I made-- standing uninvited in his hotel room, my two best warriors hovering in the cracked door frame behind me. 

“Vincent.” His eyes flitted to the bathroom door, opposite his position in front of the couch. His fingers twitched but his voice was steady as he ignored our violent entry. “Our meeting is set for nine in the morning.” 

It was a gracious statement, a way to let me back down without losing face. There was a small noise from the bathroom, and the shower cut off. 

“Jasper?” The warm, gentle voice resonated through the door. 

The mage’s eyes bobbed between the door and the imposing wolves. “Yes?” 

“I heard voices. Do we have visitors?” The words were tinted with the timbre of a language too old for names. 

“I-No. They were just leaving?” He shot a questioning glance my way. 

I remained where I stood, confused but pleasantly surprised at the excitement in her words. Up until this moment, my future wife had been an impersonal figurehead to stand at my side and ensure peace between our people. I hadn’t allowed myself the luxury of hoping for anything more than that. Now I lingered in the calm left behind the warm voice, strangely impatient to meet its owner. 

Though if any of the elders were here they’d be yapping about breaches in tradition and not seeing my betrothed until the official introductions. 

Jasper’s shoulders stiffened and he kept his eyes on me as he reluctantly called to his sister, “Would you like to greet them?” 

“Yes!” 

The enthusiastic answer made Jasper sigh. 

“One minute! Don’t let them leave!!” 

I had been so distracted by the rich timbre and heavy accent of the girl behind the door I’d forgotten the reason for my impulsive entry. 

She was obviously still here. I should have taken the exit Jasper offered. But it was too late to back down, and a part of me was glad of the opportunity to meet she-of-the-beautiful-voice. 

I eyed the broken doorway regretfully. Not the first impression I’d wanted to make. 

Jasper let out another sigh. “Allow me.” 

I caught his careful wording as clattering sounded from behind the bathroom door, reminding me she could hear just as much as us. 

I dipped my head in gratitude and stepped to the side as the mage carefully crossed through the kitchen and approached the doorway. His hands flew through the air, blue light illuminating his fingers in a soft glow as he made the intricate mage symbols and then ran his finger along the cracked door and splintered frame. A moment later, Jasper closed the perfect door. 

He’d barely done so when the bathroom door whipped open and a cloud of steam filled the room. Daman let out a cough and Samuel fanned the air in front of his face, trying to clear his field of vision. 

“Ohhh sorry, sorry!” The steam vanished just as quickly as it had come, leaving behind the Lady Daiiryn Rensalus, my future wife. 

If someone had asked me to pick Lord Jasper’s Dragon half-sister out of a hundred people, she would have been my last guess. 

It wasn’t just that she looked nothing like her brother. While he was golden haired and tan, her hair was several shades lighter; her skin several shades darker. 

Jasper the Mage Lord looked a dozen times more like a fierce Dragon of legend. His features were sharp and eyes cunning. Her features were soft, eyes wide and bright, hair a mass of damp waves that messily framed her round face. 

Her hands had fallen back to her sides after completing whatever spell she’d cast to dissipate the steam, and I was briefly distracted by the too-long sleeves of the oversized pink pajama shirt completely enveloping her fingers, along with the matching bottoms that were rolled up and bunched around her ankles. They looked like the type of soft but cheap material you’d find in a superstore, though I couldn’t imagine how Lord Jasper had managed to get her size that utterly wrong. 

She looked about as dangerous as a fluffy white kitten, but I had no doubt her claws would be just as sharp. 

“Hello!” Her voice was rich, and her face filled with genuine delight. I’d just broken into their hotel room under the assumption she’d run away from our arranged marriage in terror, and she was looking at me like I’d just bought her a puppy. 

Lord Jasper crossed quickly to her side. “Gentleman, allow me to introduce my sister, Lady Daiiryn Ren--” 

Her quick elbow to the side had Lord Jasper doubled over, clutching his ribs. “Dai!” She stepped forward, roughly shoving her hair out of her face before extending her hand to me. “I’m Dai.” 

I stared at her hand, then glanced back at Lord Jasper, who had recovered enough to straighten. When he’d been reluctant to involve his sister, I’d assumed she was a timid, fragile thing, and that, perhaps, he was ashamed of her. 

“I thought you said people now shake hands rather than bowing…” She’d followed my gaze to her brother, and she was glaring at him with as much force as a kitten gazing at a laser beam that was just out of reach. 

“They do?” Lord Jasper’s breaths were still coming in pained wheezes, and I made a mental note to avoid the Lady Kitten’s deadly elbows. Lord Jasper seemed torn between glaring at his sister for the elbow and staring at me like I was an imbecile for not shaking her hand. 

I jumped forward, catching Lady Daiiryn’s still outstretched hand in mine.  “Forgive me, my lady, I was too distracted by your beauty to obey proper social customs.” 

WHAT. IN THE WORLD. DID I. JUST SAY. 

Then to make matters worse, I brought her fingers to my lips and kissed them. 

All the dignity and pride I carried as leader of the largest wolf territory on the continent vanished faster than the steam from the shower, and I was struck with the desire to find a nice dark hole to go die in. 

Behind me, Daman smothered a cough, and the lady in question’s eyebrows rose until they disappeared into her hair. She slowly withdrew her hand from mine. Her hands both rose to cover her mouth. 

“Oh that was nearly quite perfect!” She whirled to face Lord Jasper. “Jaz, did you teach him that?” 

Jaz shot me a look before smiling at his sister. “No. I imagine he simply wanted to make you feel more at home.” 

“It was quite like something Lord Midan once said to me, do you recall? At the ba--” She trailed off, turning back to me. I wondered if all the spinning was making her dizzy. 

“Forgive me, I didn’t give you a chance to introduce yourselves!” 

A deep feeling of dread welled up at the possibility her friendliness was only because she did not know who I was. 

But then she leaned to the side and offered the wolves behind me a tiny wave. “If you’re Lord Vincent’s men, I should know you.” Her bright smile turned on me. Lord Vincent, would you be so kind as to introduce me to your companions?” 

I stared at her for a moment as relief washed away the panicked adrenaline, too grateful she knew who I was to explain that I wasn’t really a ‘lord’ of anything. 

Lady Daiiryn blinked expectantly up at me, and I jolted out of my thoughts enough to answer her question. “Yes. My companions.” I cleared my throat and gestured to my two best fighters. “This is Samuel and Daman.” 

I froze in place as the Lady Kitten stepped around me, her arm brushing mine in the narrow entry as she warmly shook hands with my bewildered men. “Lord Daman, Lord Samuel, what a pleasure to meet you.” 

From a tactical standpoint, the move was a dangerous one. Placing herself in the middle of potential enemies while cutting herself off from her brother. Yet the cheerful Dragon didn’t seem to notice. Her brother, however, stood stiffly, hands flexed at his sides, as though preparing to cast a spell. 

The tension in the room ratcheted up a thousand degrees as the small Dragon placed herself in the midst of the wolves. I stepped sideways, turning so I had a clear view of both siblings. 

The sister froze, her hand still clasped in Daman’s, finally sensing the building tension in the room. 

“Ohsa.” The word came out a voiceless breath on a sigh, the verbal equivalent of a heavy eye roll. Without turning from Daman, whose hand she released after giving it a little pat, Lady Daiiryn--Dai-- continued,  “Jasper, brother dear, If they came here to kill us, they would have tried already.” 

Samuel raised a hand to cover his snort of surprise while Lord Jasper meaningfully eyed the newly fixed door frame. “Just being cautious, sister dear.” 

Dai finally turned around, a tiny smirk on her pink lips. “I believe the word you're looking for is ‘overprotective.’”

Lord Jasper shook his head. “It is well within my rights, little sister.” 

She snorted, though her eyes danced with amusement. “Perhaps I should be the one being cautious then, little brother.” 

“I’m at least three hands taller than you.” 

“And I’m at least three years older than you.” 

Daman, Samuel, and I watched the exchange, our heads bobbing back and forth like spectators at a tennis match. 

“Well, they will just have to forgive me for being overprotective of my only remaining family member.” Jasper met my gaze as he said it. 

Dai shook her head and shifted so she faced me, though it was her brother she addressed. “If you’re done with the not-subtle threats, perhaps we can get to why my betrothed is here tonight instead of in the morning?” 

Ah. 

Jasper, Samuel and Daman all scrambled to speak at once. 

“He mixed up the time?” 

“--was too excited to meet you?”

“--needed to borrow some milk?”

Every head in the room turned to look at Daman as he trailed off. 

Somehow his excuse made Jasper and Samuel’s seem absurd as well. 

One pale eyebrow rose, though the pink lips beneath it were quirked up in poorly concealed amusement. “And does one typically break down the door to borrow milk?” 

Of course I hadn't been lucky enough to have the shower block out the sound of our crashing entrance to her Dragon’s hearing.

“I thought you’d run away.” 

The admission spilled from my mouth and I jammed my lips shut. I hadn’t meant to say it that bluntly. 

“Why?” She looked bewildered. But not, to my relief, offended.

“The shower was on.” 

“Yes?” Her brows drew together, an adorable pucker between them.

“For two hours.” Samuel cut in. 

Her eyes lightened. “I know! And the water was hot the whole time!” Her oversized sleeves slipped down to her elbows as she held up wrinkled fingers for display. “They look like prunes!” 

I looked up from her in time to see Daman and Samuel exchange a glance behind her back. 

“It’s just--” I made my voice gentle, suddenly afraid to hurt this enthusiastic ball of energy. “People usually don’t shower for hours at a time.” 

“Oh?” She looked utterly baffled at that, and I found myself scrambling for an explanation that wouldn’t cast judgment on her bathing habits- which were definitely none of my business. 

“We thought you turned it on to mask the sound of you leaving.” As I spoke, I realized I was admitting we’d been spying on them, but neither sibling looked surprised. 

“Oh!” The sound was brighter. A flash of intelligence sparked in her eyes, but there was no malice as she cheerfully accepted my explanation.  “No, I’m still here!” 

She smiled widely, as though she was happy to be here, happy to be marrying me, rather angry or dismayed at being woken from years of hibernation and forced to accept the hand of a stranger--an enemy--to stop a war she wasn’t a part of. 

The air filled with silence after her proclamation. Before I could think of a way to express my relief that she was, well, the way she was, her head cocked to the side. I recognized the motion, and now that I was paying attention, I could hear a set of footsteps making their way down the hall, so I wasn’t surprised by the ratatat-tat at the door. 

Lord Jasper jumped forward with a tense look at his sister. “I’ll get it.” His pinched expression showed more concern than it had when we’d broken down his door, and I subtly shifted my jacket to make it easier to draw my weapon. 

The smell of teriyaki chicken and sauteed vegetables wafted into the room as Lord Jasper opened the door and accepted two large bags of takeout from a gangly delivery boy. 

Dai stepped up to my side as I straightened my jacket. The mirth dancing in her eyes told me she hadn't missed the movement. “Would you like to eat with us?” 

                                          ____

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling for all her amazing insights and edits! Love you seester! 

Taglist: 

UM do I need a separate taglist for fantasci? Maybeeee?!? Haha comment/reblog with your requests to be added to my fantasci taglist. 

[fantasci-side-blog]

A froggy day in the life of a young prince and a (to be) knight 🐸

Inspired by this prompt by @thepenultimateword! Based on my characters with @callmemeg

“And you confronted the witch head on because…?” young Prince Belir trailed, staring hard with his amphibian eyes at his equally amphibian as well as equally cursed wannabe-knight sister. Though, rather than nestling into the wet leaves for camouflage like he was, she was hopping around in the soil making a spectacle. She didn’t seem to realize that her usual move of athleticism did not transfer well to this small, round body.

“To protect you, of course!” she cried, struggling through a somersault.

"And what protection this is, thank you so much."

"Hey!” His sister’s throat swelled up and she involuntarily let out a croak.

Their bickering and frog-leaps eventually caught up to the witch. There she was, outside their vacation home, lounging in their family’s hammock, eating a croissant that- that- fine, they didn’t know it was theirs, but maybe their parents had bought it and she had stolen it from their kitchen!

“Hey, Witch!” Miana croaked.

The witch raised her sunglasses contemptuously. “Have your parents taught you no manners at all? That’s Ms Witch to you.”

If Belir had eyebrows, one of his would have been raised right now. 

“Oh, apologies,” Miana said without missing a beat. “Ms Witch!”

“Yes, children?”

“Turn us back!”

“Is that all?” She leaned down and turned both frog children to face the opposite direction.

“Not like that!” Miana’s throat swole once more. “We want to be human again!”

“Oh?” Her lips curved into a smirk, but her victims were… not bright enough for her to get the reaction she hoped for, so her face settled back into a tired look instead. “Don’t you know your magic basics and history?”

“Why, yes,” Belir answered. “Just yesterday I read that some cultures used to decorate magic wands with flower petals on special occasions.”

“Very good.” Belir proudly puffed out his little frog chest. “But I meant curses. Particularly the curse of turning people into frogs. Like your situation.” She gestured between the two of them.

“Oh. No, I can’t say I’m familiar.”

The wi- Ms Witch sighed, “Elvara and Doretan are going to hear from me,” she mumbled to herself. Then she sat up straighter and got out her teaching voice. “Turning people into frogs is a very basic and easy-to-break curse. It’s a very common curse, mostly used by people just learning magic or who just want to use a temporary spell. Its popularity is thanks to the famous fairytale The Frog Prince, that I will personally ask your parents to read to you tonight." Anyone else listening to their conversation may have heard some slight snideness at the last comment, but there wasn’t anyone nearby so that snideness was lost.

Miana nodded. “Thank you. But can you turn us back now?”

“No can do, frog princess. Only true love’s kiss will do the trick. You two do know what that is, I hope?”

“True love’s — HEY! No! What if we don’t have a true love?” Their trembling forms gave Ms Witch reassurance that there was at least some intellect in those heads of theirs.

“Well, I guess then you’d better start looking.” She lowered her sunglasses and resumed eating her croissant. 

With great difficulty, Ms Witch was able to control her laughter and her tongue while the two amphibians panicked their heads off.

Her entertainment was unfortunately put to an end when Ms Nerianne and Queen Elvara walked out the cabin door. 

“Jadi, remind me, do you have any allergies —” 

“WAHHHH! NENE! MOMMY!”

“MRS MOM! NENE! I DON’T WANT TO BE A FROG FOREVER!”

The two frog children continued wailing as two very surprised guardians looked on. They looked toward Ms Witch, Jadi, who had a hand on her mouth to try to muffle her snickering.

“My word…” Elvara rushed forward and picked up her kids, her slimy, crying kids, but her kids nonetheless. Memories of her children being small enough to hold in her arms resurfaced before her critical thinking did. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case for Nerianne.

“What did you do, Jadi?” She withheld the second croissant she had brought as hostage till her question was answered.

“Nothing! You wanted me to teach them magic, I’m teaching them magic!” With a wiggle of her fingers the hostage croissant had transferred to her hand.

“You made them cry!”

“Nuh-huh! I turned them into frogs. I never made them cry. In fact, they started crying when you two came. A suspicious correlation, don’t you think?”

“Oh Gods, Jadi.” Nerianne’s so-done voice was undefeatable.

“Sorry.” Jadi finally had the sense to look sheepish. “But, on the bright side, I agree to take them on as my pupils! Also, I’m allergic to eggplant.”

Nerianne sighed and took one of the children from Elvara’s arms. 

“Dory! Dory, come here!” Elvara called for her husband Doretan, still entranced by the fact that her children were so small.

Doretan walked out, still in an apron and flour, “Yes, Elly?” He paused at the sight of the crying frogs. He didn’t know frogs could cry, he realized.

“I DON’T WANT TO MARRY A WEIRDO WHO KISSES FROGS!”

“I DON’T WANT TO GET MARRIED AT ALL!”

Those voices were unmistakable. He sighed. It was only a matter of time before his children were turned into frogs, it was a very common occurrence among kids their age, either a curse by a jealous classmate or an accident while learning magic. Thankfully, the curse’s popularity meant its remedy was also very popular.

“So they’re finally frogs, huh?” He wiped his hands on his apron before taking one of the tiny sobbing creatures in his arms. “What kind of frogs are they? They’re so small," he mumbled.

“Aren’t they, Dory?” Elvara responded. “Almost makes me want to keep them this way. So small and tiny,” she freed Nerianne of froggy Miana and cradled her in her arms.

It took a while, but, eventually, Miana and Belir each received a kiss on their heads by their guardians. The kisses had turned them from two sad frogs back to their perpetually confused human selves. It was true love’s kiss. True family love. Tomorrow Jadi would go on to say that they would have known this if they had had better schooling in magic history. But today, they were ordered to get back to their chores and set the table for lunch with her instead.

---

Writing journey:

Had this in my head ever since I saw the prompt (which was... July! maybe) but couldn't write. I finally wrote it :D

I need help with ending paragraphs lol.

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Intertwined and Worlds Apart

Note: This is probably going to be a series. Alien x human to be specific, a little different from my usual hero x villain. Doesn't mean I'll stop doing hxv though!

TW: Blood, some gore, dismemberment, death mentioned, gross fantasy monster is described, weapon usage, violence (i swear it's not too horrible)

When Human had first joined the Intergalactic Crew, they were everyone's new favourite topic of conversation.

It wasn't about them being a different species; the teams prided themselves on harbouring a vast and diverse array of species. But none, not even the most powerful of said species even had half the formidable reputation that humans did. They were the stuff of legends, defying limits the others had deemed inevitably unbreakable and turning what most saw as a literal hellscape into their home.

So naturally, when one arrived, most, if not all of the Station's inhabitants were itching to get a good look at them.

Supposedly, Human was tall and well-muscled for their species, in spite of their somewhat overall slender frame. Some of the aliens were easily taller and much larger, but that only served to increase both the fear and awe factors. If this being, with a measly total of four appendages, that wasn't the biggest around and had a significant lack of a tail, quills or any logical defense mechanism was still capable of dealing out all that damage, then they were truly a force to be reckoned with.

Strangely enough, Human's allure quickly faded, revealing what most of the crew considered a rather lacklustre image. They completed the basic training, and they all soon got used to their ability to consume poisons everyday for breakfast. Something they called "coffee" that they claimed to "be a zombie without." Whatever a zombie was.

The human was fairly quiet and kept to themselves, never speaking unless addressed, rapidly earning them the reputation of a snob. They were expecting some kind of mythical hero, something to do justice to the epic tales woven about Earth's fearsome inhabitants. Ironically, no one was interested in Human anymore.

No one except Alien.

Their colleagues and friends would continuously make light-hearted jabs about Alien being infatuated with Human, but they'd just wave them off. They certainly were intrigued by the foreigner, but they honestly didn't know if they felt anything more than that for them. Love amongst aliens, specifically the romantic kind, although not non-existant, was somewhat a rarity. Marriage was usually for convenience, whether to start a family, (as in the case of Alien's parents), a union between two races or just marriage for the sake of it. It explained why they lasted longer, and if the relationships came to an end it was usually respectful and clean-cut.

But Alien had heard that with humans, it was a whole different story. Love for them had a powerful, iron-like grip only attributed to a force of nature. It started wars, it ended them. It pushed people into trance-like states of madness. It was a lot like fire, beautiful and mesmerizing, but also destructive and untamable when allowed to be out of control.

Their curiosity had finally overcame their shy nature, and they decided to go talk to Human about a week ago. They'd been told that they were just a snob, but that's exactly how Alien was labelled before others discovered that they were just an introvert by nature, and it had taken them years to make friends. Maybe Human was like that too.

Their heart hammered in their chest so rapidly, they thought their heartstrings would get ripped apart from the effort. They were grateful that their clothes covered the stripes along their arms that changed colour based on their mood. They didn't need Human to know that they were scared out of their wits.

"Hi. It was Human, right?"

The human looked up from their food, seemingly a little taken aback. They cleared their throat, "Yes, I'm Human. Is there something required of me?"

"I just wanted to talk to you. Not about anything in particular." They bit their lip nervously.

"Oh." Human shifted in their seat, fidgeting with the straps of their dark hoodie.

"It's okay if you're not interested." Alien's voice is laced with just the tiniest bit of disappointment.

"Wait! It's just that no one here was ever interested in talking to me after the first two weeks. I seem to have disappointed them somehow."

Alien whipped around, gesturing to the bench in front of the table Human was sitting behind, and the newest Crew member nodded their approval. They sit down, surveying the human with an almost inquisitive gaze. "Do you like it here?"

Taking small sips from their drink, the human shrugs. "I mean, I like being in space, I'm passionate about my job. Maybe it's not ideal that everyone thinks I'm too haughty to talk to them, but I'm used to it. It's a lot like that on Earth too. I don't fit the basic "cute" description of an introvert."

Alien's teal eyes widened, a little confused by Human's statement which earned them a light laugh from their companion. For some reason, they decided that they rather liked the soft, musical sound.

They gesture to their figure. "I know this might not be a big deal here, but on Earth, this is considered intimidating enough. And this doesn't help either." They traced one, long finger along a jagged, pink scar drawn across their left cheekbone.

"I do not think it is scary," Alien stated rather bluntly. Always honest about everything was how their friends would describe them.

"Do you?"Human laughed again, but it was much softer and shorter than the first time.

"Yes I do?" Did Human not think they were being sincere?

Human did not laugh this time, instead choosing to let the corner of their lip twitch up. A smile. They had been told it was horrendously scary, but instead it just looked nice? Even when their sharp fangs were bared, it didn't look at all predatorial.

"That was a rhetorical question. Meaning a question you don't expect an answer to. It's just sort of there for effect. Ugh, I'm crap at articulating my thoughts into words," they groaned, taking their head into their hands.

"I apologise." Alien's clothes come to their rescue once again hiding their stripes that they were sure were glowing a bold, embarrassed crimson.

"It's fine. Culture gap between species. I'm sure I've got a lot to learn too."

Human and Alien conversed almost everyday when they got the chance. Alien grew to find that the human had one too many things in common with them; introversion, a love of astronomy and a sweet tooth just to name a few.

But in the process, Alien keeps experiencing a set of strange, nonsensical symptoms, especially when they were around Human. A racing heartbeat, a fluttery feeling in their digestive tract, a warm flush through their body and the strange sensation that they're in a trance, Human being the only thing that wasn't foggy in their mind.

"There is nothing wrong with you," the medic reassured. "Physiologically. Your vitals are fine and you appear to be in excellent health. There is, however, a rise in neurotransmitter levels. It could just be stress. If so, then try your best to calm down. If the symptoms persist, then it may be time to ask the Captain for a few days off maybe?"

The alien thanks the doctor, but they're not exactly sure they're stressed. What they do know is that they catch themselves thinking of Human unprompted. Was all this some sort of bizarre side-effect of being in contact with a human for one lunar rotation? They'd never know. . .

Speaking of Human, the foreigner taps them lightly on the shoulder. "Hey!" they chirp with a smile. They hand them a small, glossy, royal blue box with a sliver lid and a matching blue ribbon.

"Go on, open it!"

Inspecting it carefully, Alien slowly slides the lid off with their long, slender fingers. Inside, there is a hard sort of mineral with a smooth surface in all the colours of the galaxy, striking shades of blue, violet, pink, turquoise and even black all woven together on one stone in a sparkling array of beauty, much like a painting on a canvas. The mineral hung on a polished metal chain.

"It's for you to wear around your neck. It's a geode from Earth. Mineral formation. Oh, and happy birthday! I don't know if you celebrate in your culture, but us humans do. I hope this isn't too presumptuous."

"How did you know about the day I was born?" Alien's voice is barely above a whisper, too surprised to be able to speak clearly.

The human shrugs. "I asked the Captain. Is this offending you?"

"No! Quite the opposite. Thank you, Human. This is beautiful. I promise to take wonderful care of it." Alien's heartbeat accelerates dramatically, and their whole world seems to have come to a halt. How is Human so effortlessly thoughtful? They'd known Alien for such a short time and were already keen on finding out about their birthday and getting them a gift. Whatever they feel for Human just keeps getting more intense.

*

There were no alarms sounding or a rumbling of the ground or any warnings of the like. The Silent Wraith hadn't gotten its infamous nickname without reason. So no one knew it was among them until deafening screams filled the Station, and the once pristine floors were slick with blood.

"Everyone, cover your mouth, nose and skin if you breathe through it and evacuate! The Wraith produces deadly gas and can easily rip the strongest of you to shreds," the Captain yelled over the alarmed screeching.

The monster, with its many, many limbs and horrendous-looking maw, stacked with rows upon rows of sharp, yellowing fangs, now covered in blood attacks without mercy, creeping up on its unfortunate victim and leaving them nothing but a mess of bloodied flesh, scales, wings and bones. It thrashes around with its tail, covered in sharp spikes that released the toxin into the air, choking some of the Crew members.

They all try to flee from it. All except for Human.

"Human! Have you lost your mind? The Silent Wraith is no laughing matter!" Alien cries, voice breaking with desperation.

"You wanted to know where all those legends about my kind came from? Well, let me show you!"

The alien's desperate pleas fall on deaf ears. Human completely ignores them and saunters forward. They pick up a long chain from their locker and jump atop one of the tables and use it as a makeshift springboard to throw themselves off of and they successfully land on top of the creature's back. They wrap the chain around its neck, puling hard, obviously straining with the effort.

It seems to work, until the chain snaps around the creature's neck. The human lets out a stream of profanities as the creature throws them onto the ground. They pull out a knife and try their hardest to jab it into the beast's thick hide near its chest but to no avail. It's too fast. It scratches Human's shoulder with its metre-long sharp claws, making them hiss in pain.

Alien, no matter how terrified they are right now, can't just leave Human like that for dead. They rush forward, paying no regard to the warnings screamed at them by others. They attempt to distract the Wraith, to divert their attention away from the human and to try and use one of the quills rolled up in their back to attack the creature. But instead, the beast sinks its fangs into the alien's leg viciously.

It burns like fire and acid mixed into one to deal out a harrowing sensation of absolute torture climbing up Alien's leg. They can barely move themselves away from the creature as they cry out in pain.

If Human was wild a few moments prior, currently they are feral.

They scream, running up to the beast and swiftly tear one of its fangs straight out of its mouth. They use it as a makeshift blade, stabbing it into its hide so many times, they lose count. The creature in turn mars the human with its own attacks; riddling their body with scratches and burns and trying to gas them.

None of that deters the human. Fueled by some kind of ferocious rage, they ruthlessly attack the beast, finally tearing off its tail with its own fang.

The Silent Wraith was dead at the hands of a single human.

"Human? How did you do that?' Alien asks weakly.

"It hurt you. That's all I could think of. The rest was hysterical strength. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it's only my leg that's been hurt."

When everyone else shuffles back in, seeing the Wraith's corpse and dismembered tail and the human's bloodied hands, all they feel is a mixture of fear and awe.

Alien, on the other hand, is in a completely different world. Seeing Human with blood streaked across their cheekbones and jawline, their short, raven hair mussed up, clothes ripped to shreds, exposing battered skin, but also the human's taut muscles knocks the air out of the alien's lungs, but not in a bad way. The most entrancing of all is that fierce, passionate look in their stormy grey eyes. Human, in their disheveled state, has never been as alluring as they are now.

Gingerly, Human scoops them up, holding them against their chest. Alien's now completely exposed arm stripes glow a bold magenta, a colour they'd never seen before on their body.

And they are certain, more than ever in their life that they are in love with Human, their heart alight with the bright flames that this ultimately consuming feeling brought.

Notes: I am going to be honest. I am exhausted. This is not edited because I finished it late at night and I still have homework to do. Also, I apologise for the horrendously written fight scene you had to bear through. Sorry for not posting for so long, I blame high school. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed reading this ridiculously long fic. Love you guys! 💙💙

[puddleslimewrites]

Toothache (Part 2)

Part 1

Dentist watched the dragon circle the building a few times before landing in front of him again. He didn't flinch - though it was a near thing - when its snout came into contact with his side. It took a painfully long moment for him to realize this was a sign of affection. Ever so carefully he extended an arm to pat the creature's snout as far up as he could reach.

Dragons weren't known to be social creatures. Easily aggravated, they preferred to live in isolation, though occasionally they could be found hunting in groups of two or three.

Yet here one was peering through the window of his office to watch him work. It unnerved his assistants, no doubt, but neither said a word as they helped him take stock of the supplies and clean the used instruments. Once done, Dentist sent his assistants home early and he knew from the sag of their shoulders that they were ever so relieved to go. He didn't blame them.

The dragon stayed until nightfall. Dentist was almost afraid the creature would follow him home when he stepped out of the building. But, when the lights went off, there was a distinct whoosh from outside - the same sound he'd heard earlier when the dragon took off to do a lap above the building.

The dentist let out a heavy sigh as he stepped out into the cool night air. He took a deep breath, held it, and started the long walk home.

~

It came back in the morning. Dentist wasn't as scared to approach it this time, but preserved caution in every step. His assistant stood in the doorway, cart fully stocked and at the ready. As soon as he got near, the behemoth of a monster opened it's mouth...and dropped something. Dentist stumbled backward as a pile of gleaming metals tumbled out of the creature's maw.

"For...me?" Dentist didn't know what to make of the gift. He squeezed his eyes shut, muscles seizing, as a puff of steam was blown in his face. When he dared look again he stared into one of its yellow eyes. It blinked, ever so slowly, then used its head to pushed the metal heap closer.

Dentist smiled weakly and asked his assistants to help him move the mound inside. He didn't know where he would put it - perhaps, later, they could ask an enchantress to expand a room to store it in - but for now all he needed to do was accept the payment (for that was what he assumed this to be).

Apparently satisfied once the offering was out of sight, the dragon settled down outside the office. It seemed content to lay there, lazing in the morning sun right in front of their door. Dentist didn't dare risk asking the beast to move, and so silently accepted the new terrifying guard.

Tagging: @thepenultimateword and @world-of-fire-and-flight, since you've both expressed interest in this story c:

[arealphrooblem]

5 Things You Can Find in my WIPs/Snippets

Thank you @those-damn-snippets for tagging me!

1. Power Imbalance

I think at the heart of a power imbalance, it's more about trust. In a healthy relationship dynamic, that trust is secured and so underneath the outer power imbalance is actual equilibrium. But when you have a power imbalance between enemies, you get a delicious uncertainty of putting your trust in someone who is just as likely to break it as not. It's a real leap of faith on the part of the protagonist and an opportunity to inspire mercy on the part of the villain. And I can't get enough of it.

2. Ruthless Antagonists

For me there is a difference between ruthlessness and outright cruelty. I love a ruthless villain who has no qualms committing cruel acts when there is a purpose. But they wouldn't be cruel just for the sake of being cruel and are perfectly capable of kindness or mercy when it doesn't clash with their goals.

3. Forced Proximity/Relationships

Because how else would you be forced to reevaluate your relationship with your enemy unless you had no other choice. I am a sucker for forced marriage because it's much more binding. Both parties are stuck with each other and they will have to find a way to make it work because the rest of their lives are on the line. No one is going anywhere. Plus I love having that clash of a situation that has built in expectations for a certain level of intimacy -- emotional or otherwise -- being shared with someone you can't trust at all.

4. Slow Burn

One of the reasons why I love enemies to lovers (when its done right) is that gradual change of their ideas about each other, which in turn gives them real reasons to love each other that isn't just "we are two people with connecting sexualities that exist in the same room as each other). Any romance I read or write needs a slow burn, a stage of relationship where they matter to each other before romance is even a factor

5. Fantasy/Historical type settings

As much as I love hero x villain when it's a superhero, so many excellent writers in this community have explored so much of it already. A lot of my ideas have started to become more centered around Hero x Villain as more of a protag/antag in fantasy or pseudo historical settings, where their powers exist outside of a superhero universe, or from being a supernatural creature, or even not having any powers at all. I still definitely write and still plan to write superhero universes, but I have also branched out a bit. I am planning on putting more snippets out in the fantasci tag on tumblr for this reason!

I don't know how has already done this fun tag game, so if you see this and want to try it, consider yourself tagged by me!

[heroes-villains-side-blog]

WIP Files Game

How To Play:

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, & then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

Tag as many people as you have WIPS.

I was tagged by @world-of-fire-and-flight here, and same: my WIPs are scattered.

Here's some that are front and centre for now at least

E's bday fic

Tratie-6ever

Of Sword and Spade

Evil grad school

Fluffy cape

Bad ff

Fantasci (not a fic)

Typewriter

Journal of Mad Science

Dudebro soap opera

Comedy mystery

Gotta tag 11 people, woof. @surplus-of-sarcasm @chaoticgoodthief @tratieisdabest @just-a-space-rabbit @eahravinqueen @raineandsky @puddleslimewrites @stuck-in-this-mortal-form @the-lavender-creator @inamindfarfaraway @celestiallights515

[thybrilliance]

           THERE   was something so mundane about this encounter that it was almost laughable. 

           She wasn’t sure why she found herself drawn frequently to Cotes Ward, considering she’d been ‘housed’ a whole ward away. Perhaps the flora and fauna merely reminded her of what Scathach-Skadi’s Scandinavia could have been, what it was in the rarest of places. At any rate, one couldn’t visit Cotes Fantasci and not want a closer look at the massive Eternal Tree that shadows a good fraction of the ward. Snippets of information along the way told her Ophiuchus bloomed year-round, and that it was symbolic of some conflict this city had fended off prior to her arrival. She may not have been present, but once she found herself near enough to the base... The significance wasn’t lost on her. A Ward that stirred up memories of her own Lostbelt, a tree that was itself a heavy-handed metaphor, and to complete the punchline, a tall figure in her periphery that could only be Kirschtaria Wodime. 

           It was the sort of symbolism an author couldn’t get away with writing. The exasperation she feels almost outweighs anything else, and she wishes she could cling to that emotion a little longer, but soon enough the rest follows. It was an uncomfortable swelling in her chest, an absolute mess of hope and elation and confusion and shame and— 

       ❛   You shouldn’t be here.   ❜   When she was utterly overwhelmed, completely flustered, honesty bulldozed any sense of decorum. Color immediately rises to her cheeks, and Ophelia attempts to correct herself.  ❛   What I mean is... Although I’m not entirely sure where ‘here’ is, I know it has nothing to do with a Lostbelt. … Nor, I imagine, any part of Proper Human History.   ❜  Truthfully, she had begun to wonder if it was a sort of afterlife or Purgatory. It would explain her being here, but Kirschtaria… ? 

@grandorder​ ​﹔starter call.  

[thepenultimateword]

Tomfoolery

She wore bells in her hair. Big gold ones hung on the red ribbons weaved into her braids. The chimes bounced and jingled against her spine when she backflipped and sailed in gleaming arcs when she cartwheeled.

Apparently, she'd been part of a circus act before the prince's uncle bought her for the court. And with such a background, she could do all manner of oddities and diversions: contortions and gymnastics, juggling and skits of false clumsiness. She could balance knives on her nose like a seal--up to three at once. Her ribbon dancing was the prince's favorite, the way she made the cloth rush like a river current or swell like living flame. And on the days when everything failed to divert her royal charges, she did not shirk from their endless ammunition of rot, always armed with a bright, laughing smile. As if even in the face of yesterday's scrap pile, she too, was in on the joke.

The prince did not enjoy that last one, especially once he began noticing how the light in her grin never reached her eyes. They stayed dull and opaque all the time, like the frosted glass his father had installed in his windowpanes to keep him from staring out.

However, the prince's father and uncle seemed to revel in food-lobbing days, and it was after one such merriment involving the curdled remains of a creamed spinach dish and a rancid meat pie that the prince found her in the kitchen, swearing and ripping at the knots in her ribbons as she bent upside down in front of a half-filled wooden tub the prince was pretty sure, from the smell, had already been used for mass washing heads of cabbage.

"Can I offer you a hand?" he said.

She beat her bare toes into the wall of the tub with a yowl, flipping her hair back over her shoulders as she whirled to face him. For the first time, her eyes were clear, not shining with lovely laughter but deadly fire.

"Do I look like I want--" The flames doused, and her eyes went wide as silver coins as she registered his face. "Your Highness."

All at once she was on her knees, head nearly touching the greasy stone floor.

"I apologize, I didn't expect anyone of your..." she swallowed as if struggling past something foul, "standing to be here. In this part of the palace."

"Well, I used to come down and read next to the ovens, but I'm not quite so inconspicuous anymore. A little too big to hide behind the flour bags." He chuckled awkwardly. The jester did not smile. "Anyway, Catry said you'd be down here."

The jester leaned back on her heels, eyes narrowed. "That little--" She caught herself, gaze flicking warily back to the prince. "Angel! That little angel. So good of her to direct you to me. May I be of assistance, my prince?"

A warm blush spread up the prince's neck to the roots of his hair. He hadn't exactly thought about the peculiarity of a member of the royal family searching out the court jester. Many a servant could be spoken to on pretenses of orders, but he had no good excuse for why he'd be in search of her.

The truth sprang to his lips before he could think to smother it.

"I was wondering if you were alright. When Uncle thew that last pie, it looked like the tin-- Oh!" He canted his head toward the purple splotch making itself known under her left eye. "It's bruising."

His hand reached as if of its own accord, and she swiftly side-stepped, this time smoothly avoiding the lip of the tub. Her eyes narrowed even further. "I'm fine. Thank you, your majesty, but I assure you the bruise will not affect my performance. I'll have it covered and be ready to go by tomorrow."

Ice. Sharp, pristine, palace-perfect ice.

Right. That was about what he'd expected He had learned long ago that the people hired to serve and take care of him were not comfortable with his attention or friendship. What he meant as concern was always interpreted as criticism, expertly masked by royal politeness.

"I'm certain you will be." He paused, glancing over the tub and its room-temperature water. It was situated in an alcove at the very back of the kitchen, out of sight unless standing directly in front of it. He hadn't realized anyone might... He heated a little thinking about what would've happened if he had arrived a little later.

He pointed at the tub lamely.

"Would you like to use mine?"

As soon as it left his mouth he knew he'd made a mistake. She wouldn't even accept an inquiry on her well-being.

"What do you think I am?" she snapped, face red with embarrassment or fury or both. All decorum had fled. "Your uncle might have purchased me, and maybe to you, that makes me property. But I would rather be guillotined than accept the passes of a disgusting, spoiled, power-abusing, prince!"

The prince thrust up his hands, attempting to block the heat of some of her fire. "Th-that's not what I meant at all! Of course, I think you're beautiful, but I honestly only had your well-being in mind. I would never dream of--" His hands flew over his face, and he cringed as he found his cheeks hot to the touch. He pinkened at the slightest of embarrassments--something his father never ceased to remind him of--so right now he must be vibrant. "Excuse me."

His heart beat loudly in his ears, the blood rush making him a little dizzy.

"You're...really red."

A new wave of heat the prince didn't even realize could outdo the last one washed over him.

"I know."

"If you're this embarrassed just talking, how..." She trailed. "You were serious."

The prince didn't dare confirm or deny. Everything he said today had disastrous results.

"Why?"

He should just leave. Leave and pretend none of this ever happened. It wasn't like she could confront him about it later. But he also wasn't sure he could accept leaving her opinion of him tainted.

"Because that looks terrible." He jabbed a thumb at the foul water, his other set of fingers still clapped firmly over his eyes. "And they already treat you terrible. Me too I suppose. So I wanted...I simply thought you might like some help."

There was a long pause. So long, the prince half-wondered if she'd tiptoed around him while he hid his face in his hands. Finally, he peeked out through the cracks at her clenched jaw and dulled eyes. Reverted from the fiery phoenix of a few seconds ago to the submissive show bird of the court.

She locked onto his gaze. "No. Thank you. I appreciate, your highness's concern, but I fear my acceptance of such a magnanimous offer would not be appropriate. I fear I would tarnish your highness's name if anyone were to misunderstand. For this reason, I must also advise your highness not to seek me out."

A politically correct way of saying, 'Leave me alone.'

The prince's heart sank. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting of this encounter, but he couldn't help but feel he'd failed spectacularly.

"Right. Of course. I appreciate your heartfelt concern." He turned, moved a few steps, then turned again. "I-if you change your mind, about needing help, let me know. Alright? It's not personal. As a prince, I have all my subjects' best interests at heart."

A thin smile. "You have my word, your majesty."

That too, was all politeness, and maybe, at the heart of it, fear.

As the prince miserably retreated, he did not expect to hear from the jester again.

So it was rather a shock when she showed up at his bedroom window two days later, pale as a ghost and covered in blood.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii i @deflated-bouncingball l @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia a @bouncyartist t @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 3 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax x @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin remlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee

[thepenultimateword]

Pennnnn

Can I have a mermaid who gets really injured in a storm being saved by a Fisher and them falling in love :3 🧜‍♀️💜

My first contribution to our fantasy writing community!

Sorry, it took me so long to write this, Crewe! And I'm also sorry it's a little short, and we haven’t gotten to any sort of falling in love yet. I just really wanted to post and apparently I have to make a ridiculous amount of series. Also, my stupid brain always insists on going slow burn, so stay tuned for the actual falling in love part.

CW: Injuries, mention of captivity, implied abuse

The mermaid awoke to calloused hands.

Everything ached or burned, but for a moment, the warmth of those fingers, pressed flat against her back and clavicle as they turned her over, steadied her.

Then she woke up a little more.

Everything came crashing back, and she lurched out of the stranger's grip with a loud screech, only catching glimpses of tanned skin and sunbleached curls before flopping sideways off the rocks. Instead of splashing into the familiar depths of the ocean, her shoulder bashed into stone, and her belly scraped the gritty bottom of the shallows. Her face barely breached the surface and her body become loosely wedged between her previous resting place and another large boulder.

"Hey, hey, hey," a deep voice soothed. "It's ok. You're ok. Just stay still. You're a little....well... You're fine, but some bandages might do you some good. "

Mermaid blinked the sea salt from her eyes, taking in the speaker's rolled sleeves, braided beard, and tied-back hair. As she eyed his rolled trousers her heart sank.

Human.

She wanted to flee. If she couldn't flee, she wanted to die.

Her eyes flicked wildly around at her surroundings, much different in the morning light than they had seemed in the gray violence of the night before. The majority of her captors’ ship had already been swept back into the sea's magnificent embrace, but little splinters swirled around in the tidepools, just as caught in the garden of protruding rocks as she.

The mermaid twitched her tail against the rocks and instantly regretted it as a sharp pain coursed up her spine, followed by a dull ache beneath her patchy scales.

"Does it hurt much?" the man asked in a tone so concerned it made her sick. Once she believed in the sweet murmurs of humans, so seemingly weak and pathetic in the middle of the treacherous sea. No longer.

The mermaid gave a short hiss, baring the remains of her sharp, serrated teeth in warning.

A few days ago, when she gave her prayer, supplicating two gods had seemed the best choice. She figured if she couldn't inspire Cu's mercy, then maybe she could invoke Myr's terrible wrath. But...perhaps she got the words wrong. Or maybe her devotion thus split had been judged untrue--the elders had always encouraged her to choose only one. Or, and this felt painfully close to the truth, maybe she was so pathetic even the divine could not help her.

There seemed no other reason why she would escape one captor only to end up directly in the hands of another.

"Easy," the man said, holding out his hands in front of him. His palms were not particularly pretty, the skin hardened into thick hills and peeled in certain places, but they were tanned and strong. Another seaman. Even worse.

If only she'd ducked overboard when she had the chance instead of letting her temper get the better and trying... What had she been trying?

Perhaps it didn't matter. Even if she had ended up properly in the depths, she wasn't sure how well she would have got along. Back on the ship, she could barely move from one side of the tank to the other, let alone a whole ocean. On top of that, she didn't even know where she was.

Leftover sunshowers pattered softly against her bruised and bleeding back, but on account of its tenderness, they might as well have been needles. She kept her teeth firmly born, but her eyes brimmed with hot tears.

"Hey." The seaman crouched in front of her, water wetting the cuffs of his trousers, and tilted his head a little to the side to meet her gaze. "It's a lot."

"A lot" was an understatement. A lot was simply being shipwrecked and found by a stranger. It did not encapsulate the sheer terror of that stranger being a monster. If her throat didn't feel quite so raw, she may have shouted as much. Instead, her glaring silence allowed room for the man to continue.

"I'll have you know...I'm just as scared of you as you are of me." He averted his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. "But I can't leave you here. As much as my good sense would like me to." His cerulean eyes turned back on her firmer. "I'm going to get you out, ok? Please don't bite me."

The mermaid had the sudden, defiant urge to sink her teeth directly into his reaching arm, but her better judgment stopped her short. She was stuck with this human whether she came quietly or not. If she'd learned anything from her time with her previous captors, if her situation seemed bad now, fighting back could make it so much worse. She may as well go along with him until she came up with a clear means of escape.

Once again, those rough hands found a home against her bruised skin, this time barely resting on her hips. His attempt at shimmying her loose sent flashes of white across the mermaid's vision, and her head dropped face-first beneath the surface.

"Worse than it looks, huh," he said, voice muffled by the water. The mermaid dug her chipped nails into the rocks and sand and braced herself for another try, but instead, the man returned to full height.

Should she be upset or relieved? It wasn't like she wanted him here, but she also didn't have any confidence in getting out on her own, especially with her tail in such bad condition.

She laid her cheek against the ground and watched his strange human feet as he moved to her side, sending up puffs of shell and sediment with each step. He crouched again, strong hands dipping under the surface and working under the edge of the stone on her right. His muscles corded and an instant later, he'd heaved the stone to the side. The next instant he'd scooped the mermaid up into his arms.

"Get away!" she shouted, shoving weakly against his warm chest. Her hands left wet prints on his cotton shirt.

"You talk." The notable effort to not make it an exclamation did not make it any less so.

"I'm not an animal!"

"I-I know."

Maybe it was true. Maybe she wasn't simply an animal. Maybe she was a turn of fate. A treasure to greed on. Or maybe, from the paling hue of his skin, she was as much a monster to him as he was to her. None were good predicaments.

She gave another halfhearted shove, but the pain wracking her body was too much to try any additional exertion. Eventually, she let herself go limp in his grasp and stared dead-eyed past his profile at the passing sky. It couldn't be helped if she caught a few glimpses of his stupid big head in between.

As he picked his way back to shore, his eyes searched the beach, as if suddenly apprehensive of his surroundings. His large arms crushed her, seemingly subconsciously, tighter to his chest. Her nose came just short of pressing against his throat, assaulting her with scents of sea salt and cod.

His next words slipped out as only a murmur, almost as if to himself. "Let's get you somewhere safe."

Edit:

Aaah! I forgot my master Taglist! Here it is!

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees s @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi i @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer mer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolaxe @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee

[thepenultimateword]

Secret Santa Snippet

This is my secret Santa for @yourheartonfire , I hope that you like it!

Prompt: A swordfight, between a protagonist with fancy formal training and an antagonist who's a back alleys dirty tricks kind of fighter. It can be friendly sparring or deadly combat, but there should definitely be some suppressed romantic feelings there

“Wooow,” the assassin drawled, spinning their blade lazily in their hand. “Nice uniform. Did they also give you that fancy sword?”

The soldier’s knuckles tightened on their weapon’s hilt, making the leather wrappings creak. “Don’t do this.”

It was not what they had imagined saying to the assassin if they ever met them again. No part of this sick situation had ever intruded upon their many daydreams and curious musings. In their minds eye, their friend was always still back at the orphanage, teaching kids the basic steps of combat like the old swordsman had once taught them. Or if not there, somewhere far and free from this land that hated them. Somewhere warm. And safe. They weren't supposed to be the very type of person that the soldier had sworn to fight.

“Why? Because we know each other?” They still spun their shortsword nonchalantly, as if none of this, their personal history or the soldier’s battle prowess, mattered, but even after all these years, the soldier still knew their tell: the tufted end of their tail lashed anxiously at the earth, stirring small puffs of dust around their ankles. “Gotta say, I heard you’d grown up, but I wasn’t expecting time to be quite so generous.”

The soldier’s cheeks flushed involuntarily. They had to fight the urge to hug themselves as the assassin’s golden eyes roved up and down, hungry and sharp-edged, cutting right through the plating and undoing every link in the chainmail beneath, exposing them to the world. 15 years ago they might have welcomed it. They still would have blushed, and the assassin would have teased their shyness, but they also would have gently guided them through it. A relationship at their own pace, soft and slow as leaves in a late summer creek.

They did not feel that same safety now.

The soldier raised their sword higher. “This is you’re last chance to walk away. One more step and I will consider you a threat to the crown.”

The assassin raised their brows. They stepped forward. “You probably should have considered that a long time ago.”

They lunged.

The solider barely braced themselves in time, catching the assassin’s wicked blade along the edge of their own before it gashed open their face. It was a bold move, if the soldier was a little slower it would have gotten them, but the footing wasn’t firm enough to hold against their strength.

“Sloppy.” They shoved forward, pressing all their weight all at once against the assassin’s weapon.

The assassin stumbled.

The soldier’s sword slid up and free with a light shink.

“You still go right for the throat. No care for how you’re going to hold the position later.”

The assassin glared. “Don’t preach your fancy training to me.”

“Don’t be jealous–”

The assassin scoffed. “Jealous? Jealous? Being jealous would imply that you have something I want, and I would die here, crawling in the mud, before I rolled over as one of their dogs!”

They lunged again, this time nimbler, feigning another blow and ducking the soldier’s return swing. The soldier barely whipped around in time before the point of that wicked blade found itself a home between their shoulder blades.

“You’re really trying to kill me.” As soon as it was out, the soldier bit their tongue.

“Were you not? I’m sorry, sweetie, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding.”

Suddenly the assassin was right up in front of them, one hand flat against their chest.

“What are you–” The soldier cranked their head in search of the sword, but then Villain’s tail wrapped around their knee. The end brushed the inside of their leg, sending a traitorous shiver down their spine.

“You still like me,” the assassin said, hand drifting up to their cheek now. Clawed fingers slid into their hair, just gentle enough not to scratch the surface, and their thumb trailed gently back and forth along their cheekbone. “Even after all you’ve done. After selling your soul to see mine damned, you like me.”

They laughed, a musical, hissing sort of sound that showed off the pearly points of their fangs.

“Does your boss know?” The points of their claws sank into their scalp. The soldier winced, attempting to pull back but only earning themselves a tighter grip on their hair. “I’m sure the king would have quite the shock to know one of his precious vassals consorts with demons. Or is it fine because it’s just the one? It is just me, isn’t it?”

They wrenched the soldier’s head to the side. It was almost as if they were on the verge of tearing their hair straight out, even as their face leaned carefully in, breath soft on their cheek and voice oh so gentle.

“It might hurt my feelings if you’ve been playing around with other monsters.”

“Get off me!” The soldier beat the flat of their sword against the assassin’s hip. A sharp, searing pain ripping through their thigh immediately followed. The soldier screamed.

The assassin drew their sword back scarlet, and the soldier collapsed the to the forest floor, a gush of warmth soaking their pantleg.

For a moment the assassin only stood over them, twirling their bloodied blade once, consideringly. “Huh. It seems I don’t want you dead. But don’t think I won’t do it if you press me. Just stay down and let me finish my job.”

They strode for the crashed carriage, dead driver still hanging out of their seat.

“No!” the soldier pressed their palm to their wound and wobbled to their feet. They gritted their teeth against the muscle-tearing agony as they dragged themselves stiffly forward. “You don’t understand!”

The assassin glared over the shoulder. “No, [Soldier], you don’t understand. You think we’re still kids playing games. We just whack each other a few times until we both get tired, call it a draw, and go home, but sorry, dear, we’re not kids anymore. I’ve been charged to kill the prince, and that is what I aim to do. Stay out of my way or die with him.”

“You’d…you’d really kill me?”

“I wouldn’t be killing my [Soldier]. I’d be killing another piece of the putrid infection that took them away.”

The assassin took a couple of steps forward before pausing again. This time they didn’t turn when they spoke. They stayed facing their target, shoulders straight and taught, tail lashing.

“You know they burned it down?” Their voice came out barely louder than a whisper. “Right after they took you and everyone else who benefited them out. They did it in the night while we were asleep. Most of them died.”

The soldier’s stomach clenched, almost like someone had taken their insides in a nauseating death grip. “I…I didn’t know.”

“Of course not. You were busy preening.”

The soldier surged forward furiously, slick hand slipping off their leg. “You don’t know a thing about me! I’ve been doing all I can to save you! All of you!”

The assassin scoffed. “Really? And where are the fruits of your labor? Have you actually done anything?”

“It’s a long road to peace.”

“Not so long as you’d think.”

The assassin wrenched open the door to the carriage.

“No!”

The soldier stumbled on their next step, falling to their knees a few feet away.

The child scrambled back against the back of the carriage, knobby, white breached knees drawn to his ridiculously large cravat.

“What…” In a blink, the uncertainty was gone and the assassin hauled the child out of the carriage by the arm. “What is this?”

“The crown prince.” The soldier dragged themselves a little closer and held up both hands cautiously.

“No. No!” The assassin shook the prince in their fist causing him to whimper. “The crown prince is grown. He’s the pompous, pretty brat who gives all those puff speeches and insipid sneers.”

The soldier swallowed, not taking their eyes off their charge.

“That’s what we would call a stand-in. A double. An assassin deterrent. If you thought he was the prince why did you track my carriage?”

“Because I knew it would be you.”

“What?”

“Who else is good enough to be the prince’s personal bodyguard? I know what I saw when the carriages left, but I knew, somehow, he would be with you.” Their gaze flicked down to the trembling, wet-eyed child in their hand–he was doing a remarkably good job keeping the majority of his emotions on the inside. “I still have to kill him. Child or not. This line has to end.”

“Wait!” the soldier grimaced at their own abrupt movement, gripping their leg once again. “Wait. Just…let me show you something. Please.”

The assassin hesitated. “Put down the sword.”

The soldier dropped the heavy, gilded blade without hesitation.

“It’s about the kid. Can you…can you bring him a little closer?”

The soldier was beginning to feel a little dizzy, but they had to hold on a little longer. For the kid. For [Assassin].

“If this is a trap, I will gut you,” the assassin said, but they still took the few steps between them, transferring the point of their blade from the child to the soldier’s throat.

The soldier made brief eye contact with the prince. “Forgive me, my liege.”

The young royal nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. He must have known what the soldier was about to do. He still felt humiliation over his differences, defects the other royals called them. The soldier was doing everything to cure those notions before they took too deep.

With a strong wrench either direction, the soldier ripped a large tear in the back of the prince’s trousers.

A black, tufted tail slipped out.

The assassin dropped him.

“Wh-what…? What?”

The soldier siezed the child up in their arms, scrambling on their rearend a few painful paces back before looking back at the assassin’s pale and confused expression.

Their mouth moved numbly. “[Assassin] meet [Prince]. The crown prince. His safety is not the only reason the royal has hid his identity with a double. He… He’s not the queen’s, but he is the king’s. That doesn’t make him legitimate, but it does make him fit to rule. And with no other heirs…” The soldier met the assassin’s eyes. “He’s going to change everything. He’s going…he’s going…” Their voice cracked. “Please.”

The assassin stared, predator eyes swimming with something unreadable. Mercy? Regret? Determination?

The soldier fumbled behind them for their abandoned sword. They weren’t getting out of this by running.

The assassin took a step forward. They brought their blade in front of themselves just as the soldier’s fingers caught the end of their sword hilt. The soldier pulled the blade toward them, one arm shaking as they used the other to clutch their charge close. They raised the sword in front of themself, and…

The assassin stabbed their short sword into the earth.

In moments, their old friend was knelt beside them, ripping a long piece of fabric from their tunic.

“Ridiculous, stupid, noble-hearted…” the rest was lost in a spew of unintelligible grumbling as the assassin wrapped the length of makeshift bandage taughtly around their leg. Their fingers moved fast and gruff, but they lingered a moment over the tie.

“I thought you changed. I thought you were like them.”

The soldier took a shuddering breath. “I have changed. But never like that. I’d never betray what I know is right.”

“Why are you such an incessant goody-two shoes?” The assassin chuckled lightly, giving their leg an awkward but playful shove before pushing to their feet.

“One of us has to be,” the soldier joked nervously back.

The assassin yanked their sword free with a small spray of earth and leaves, wiping it briefly on the ground before sliding it back in its sheath.

A beat of silence passed as the assassin turned back toward them.

“I’ll tell the guild the situation,” they finally said. “You…may see me again soon.”

Their tail flicked softly against the soldier’s ankle. It was light enough that it could have been an accident, but from what the soldier remembered, the assassin very rarely made accidents…

They smiled softly. “I’ll…keep an eye out.”

The assassin nodded and turned to the prince, bowing shortly. “My liege.”

The future king opened their mouth to respond, but when nothing came out, they only nodded nervously back.

The assassin chuckled. “I’m not being forgiven so easily, am I?”

The prince huddled closer to the soldier’s chest.

“Yeah, didn’t think so.”

With one last nod, they turned on their heel and began the trek back into the trees. They only got a few steps before stopping again.

“I missed you.” It came so quiet the soldier barely caught it against the wail of wind in the branches. They did not wait for a response. With a last flick of their tail, they were gone.

The soldier stared after them, barely seeing the empty clearing in front them as they murmured a reply to the empty air.

“You too.”

[thepenultimateword]

Claws and Fangs

The werewolf stretched across the large bearskin rug, the half-moon's pale light draped ethereal across their shoulders. The last several hours had been spent in lazy quiet, the fire in the hearth filling the empty room with warmth and light crackling.

The werewolf hated it.

At the other end of the house, the front door creaked open, jolting them upright with twitching ears and crazed intent. The rug skidded out from their feet as they pushed off down the hall. Even in their human form, they were always dominated by the feral instinct of their condition.

"Fangs!" the werewolf cried, bowling their lover into the entryway table before the vampire could even finish removing their earrings.

"Hey! Hey!" the vampire cried, shoving them back while simultaneously chuckling at the nips and kisses the werewolf littered their face and head with. "Give me some space to breath."

The werewolf reluctantly undraped themselves from the vampires shoulders and stepped a few inches back. "You were gone for ages."

The vampire finished undoing their second earring--a ruby drop on a long gold chain that reached to a cuff on the rim of their ear--and dropped it into the overstuffed jewelry bowl on the tabletop. "Clan gatherings are rather hard to put together when we live so spread apart, so they tend to go long. No one wants to say goodbye first. It's sort of like you're pack."

The werewolf winced.

Sure. Sure, it was like a pack. The werewolf may have never met the vampire's family, but they didn't need to see how close-knit they were to know it was nothing alike. If it were, the vampire wouldn't be here. Or well...perhaps they would, considering, but...well, still. They all lived so separate.

"What?" The vampire's slender index finger traced the furrow in their brow.

"I left my pack. For you."

The vampire's face immediately twisted up in confusion and something akin to defensiveness, amber eyes flashing, teeth just poking out from their under lips. "And?"

"I'm just saying..."

What were they saying? Of course, the vampire should be allowed to visit their family. Did the werewolf want them not to because they were jealous? That was a horribly selfish thing to wish. It wasn't as if they'd been forced to leave their own family. They made a choice.

They just wished they'd known beforehand how it would feel when they left. Like having something amputated--or being something amputated, a mere limb of a bigger whole, useless without the rest of them attached.

It was worse that the vampire's house was so big and solitary and far away from everything. Whenever they left, the werewolf felt like they might go insane from the quiet. That is if the soul-crushing loneliness didn't get them first.

No. Stop it. Their lover was back now; they shouldn't be thinking about this. They should be happy to see them, not upset that they left them behind in the first place.

The vampire raised their brows as the werewolf trailed off. "You're saying...?"

"Maybe you should bring me."

The vampire's breath hitched in their throat. "What?"

The werewolf wasn't exactly sure what that tone meant. Surprise? Offense? Was there a rule against inviting werewolves to inner family gatherings? In any case, they found themselves blabbering a retort.

"I'm with you, so that makes me technically part of the clan. That's how it would work in the pack at least. So, I definitely should be going to clan reunions with you from now on. I mean, I think it would be better that way. I haven't even met your family yet. You sort of met mine; it's not fair if I don't meet yours."

"I don't think that's a good idea," [Vampire] grimaced.

"Because I'm a werewolf...?"

"Because of lots of reasons. Look, I love them, but they're not always great. Why do you even want to meet them? Haven't we been fine on our own?"

"I'm a werewolf without a pack," they said bluntly. "I'm not fine."

The vampire's intense gaze fixed on them, really fixed on them. Maybe it was a vampire thing, but whenever they did that, it made Werewolf's skin crawl, like needles prickling from the inside out instead of from the outside in. They must really be thinking about this. They quickly regretted their statement; the vampire had done a lot for them. It really would be selfish to ask for more.

Suddenly, the vampire scooped them into a bridal carry, evoking a sharp yelp from the werewolf's throat. Despite the werewolf being the bulkier one in the relationship, the vampire was never remiss to remind them who was stronger physically. Luckily the werewolf liked being babied.

"Alright," the vampire said. "If it means that much, you can come."

The werewolf yipped, craning their neck to snuggle beneath the Vampire's chin. They must have snuggled a little too hard though because the vampire groaned softly through their teeth as their mouth was forcefully snapped shut. Instead of letting them back down though, they simply grumbled the next piece of news through the spaces in their molars.

"Since a few of the clan are sticking around a while, the next reunion is in two weeks. I've been pressed to spend an entire weekend. I originally said no so as to not leave you alone, but if you're coming along..."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" The werewolf couldn't control their excited squirming. If it was the time of the month for a tail, it would be wagging. "I'll be super polite and impressive! Thank you!"

"It's really not that exciting though." They had to readjust the werewolf in their arms to keep them from slipping, also taking the opportunity to tip them back and look directly into their eyes. “I don't want you to be disappointed when it turns out to be a bunch of stuffy old people hanging out."

The werewolf tried not to fall into a drooling daze as they stared into their lover’s hypnotic gaze. They weren’t sure if it was the vampire part or the being totally smitten part, but somehow they were always losing themselves in that molten amber stare.

“You’re only a little stuffy.”

“Oh, really?” The vampire grinned exposing the full glory of his elongated fangs. “Well, you’re only a little chaotic.”

“Only a little? I better step up my game.”

“Don’t push your luck, Claws.”

The vampire nuzzled their face, fangs skimming down their cheek before pressing their mouth with a gentle kiss.

***

The werewolf’s suitcase was nearly packed to overflowing. Mostly because the vampire had stuffed it with about a dozen different changes of clothes that they'd never even seen before, let alone worn.

"Dinner, tea, eveningwear, nightwear," they verbally labeled as they laid out each clothing set.

"What's this?" the werewolf said, picking at a silken charcoal suit complete with an emerald floral vest and tie. The thread making up the design was colored a glimmering gold--or was that real? The werewolf really wouldn’t put it past them.

"Dress clothes. In case we do something fancy."

"Is doing something fancy, likely?"

They already weren't liking the look of that tie. They bet that gold thread was scratchy.

"60/40."

Ok, too much of a chance to convince Vampire it was unnecessary, but perhaps there were other ways to make them ditch it.

“And it’d really matter what I wear? You really change clothes this much when you visit?”

The vampire blinked at them as if they’d just said they planned to walk around the whole visit in the nude.

“Yes.”

“Ok, ok.” The werewolf held their hands up defensively. “I’ll wear the suit.”

And so here they were, a little after 6 o’ clock, hefting their overly large bag into the back of the vampire’s sleek black car. The sun had gone down a little less than an hour ago, and though the windows in the car were all tinted dark to keep out the terrible, deadly blaze of the sun, the vampire still always preferred to drive at night.

"Claws!" the vampire called as they hesitated by the trunk of the car, deciding whether this was actually a terrible idea. They really only had experience with the one vampire. What if this wasn't a cure to their loneliness but a bigger assurance that they were making a mistake?

"Claws!"

The werewolf jolted, quickly slamming the trunk closed and sliding into the passenger seat. "Sorry."

"You ok?"

"Mm. Just nervous."

The vampire laughed lightly, something between amused and nervous. "I'd say don't be but..." They shifted the gear into drive and began the long winding descent from their villa. "Maybe it is best if your guard is a little up this weekend."

The werewolf tipped their head. "You think they're going to hurt me?"

"Physically? No. Emotionally? Well...that depends."

"On what?"

"On how they take it."

"Take what?"

The vampire briefly took their eyes off the leaf-blanketed drive to nod in their direction.

It struck the werewolf like a bag of rocks.

"Wait. You haven't told them about me?"

"I have. Just not...details."

"So my species...?"

"Never came up."

"Ugh!" A low growl vibrated in the werewolf's throat, and they slammed their fists on their knees. "I can't believe you!"

"It wasn't exactly easy to bring up."

"'I'm seeing a lycanthrope.' There. That easy."

The vampire's gloved hands creaked on the steering wheel, amber eyes pinned straight ahead. "You obviously don't understand what it's like for me."

"I told mine."

They weren't certain whether it was meant as an argument or a comfort. Certainly, they understood more than anyone else what it was like to confront one's family with such irregular news. There were reasons vampires and werewolves typically kept to their own kinds. The reaction to their sudden declaration of love hadn't exactly been smooth, but it had been a relief. Having everything in the open was easier than holding their feelings, heavy and secret, to their chest.

"That's different. They weren't actually your family."

The werewolf went rigid. Such a response didn't even merit a growl.

The vampire pressed their toe to the break, coming to a stop in the middle of the pitch black road. Their eyes glinted in the dark as they turned to face them.

"That came out wrong. What I meant was, you weren't born into your family, you were chosen. The expectations are different."

"They expect me to be happy," the werewolf challenged. "Don't yours?"

The vampire sighed deeply, slowly revving the car back up to the speed limit. "It's not that simple."

The werewolf thunked their forehead softly against the passenger window, squinting out at the shapes of trees and bushes. They hated the distinct implication in the air that the vampire had decided they just couldn't understand. And maybe they couldn't. Wasn't it that simple? If someone loved you, they wanted you to be happy. Right? Sure, nothing was perfect, but the foundation was there.

They huffed, their breath clouding up the glass, and closed their eyes, concentrating on the soft hum of the engine and the whir of passing road instead of whether they may have made a mistake.

They must have dozed off because the next time they opened their eyes, they were approaching an enormous black castle, crooked spires stretching toward the wide, haloed moon. Why were vampires so pretentious?

"This is your parent's house?" the werewolf mumbled with a large yawn.

The vampire jolted a little at the sound of their voice before putting out a hand to squeeze their arm, an acknowledgment and an apology wrapped in one. "Summer home. We came all the time as children, but now it's just for reunions."

"Are all vampire families obscenely rich, or is that just a you thing?"

"Shut up," the vampire chuckled, parking along the side of the drive behind three or four other ridiculously pretty vehicles. "You don't live this long without getting some perks."

They popped the door and the werewolf followed them around to the back of the car, stretching their long limbs with each step.

"So how are we doing this? Am I carrying you over the threshold? Go in side by side? A little behind me?"

"Definitely the first one," the werewolf said, accepting their bag. "I don't know, doesn't really matter I guess. They do know I'm coming, right?"

"Yeees."

"Only checking. I guess we could, like, link arms or something?"

"Or just hold hands?"

The werewolf blushed a little. "Yes, that would...be more natural."

"We can link arms if you want."

"No."

"Come on, it wasn't a bad idea."

"No, it's silly."

"It's not silly. Let's do it. "

"I don't want to--"

"It's ok, I just wasn't imagining it right, but if you want--"

"Fine!" The werewolf abruptly hugged the vampire's arm. "How's this?"

The vampire's breath hitched, and when their voice came out it was soft. "It's nice."

The werewolf nodded curtly, making their grip a little tighter as they turned toward the entrance steps. It was suddenly hitting them that they were walking straight into a vampire den. Their original prejudices and anxieties about vampires had been mostly eradicated, but even the most open-minded person would wonder at the wisdom of entering a house full of immortals with the power to crush your skull like an eggshell. Especially when those immortals habitually drank the blood of mortals like them to live.

The vampire placed their hand over the werewolf's knuckles as they approached the double door, cold thumb stroking lightly across the back of their hand. This was fine. They wanted this. They were getting another family. It was fine. Everything was fi--

One of the great wooden doors swung open.

...

I'm sorry to cut this off right at the good part, but this was getting super long and I have no idea when I'll reach another good stopping point. So stay tuned for the family meeting in part two. Also deciding whether to actively call them Claws and Fangs 😂 obviously not their real names but maybe they could acknowledge each other that way. I dunno.

Part Two

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi i @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills

[watercolorfreckles]

What's Mine is Yours (Prompt/Short Snippet)

"You know that I want you." The villain's nails, perfectly manicured, skimmed over the swell of the king's parted lips. His breathing caught somewhere in his throat, stilling at the touch. "But the only thing that I want more than you...is your crown. Don't you love me?"

Beneath the villain's intent gaze, the king upon his throne was certain that he looked far less like the ever-poised ruler, and far more like a smitten puppy. He wet his lips just to watch the villain track the movement. "You know that I do," he answered, settling his hands oh-so-gently, against her waist, as if the villain were a delicate flower and not a weapon capable of carnage and destruction and world-ending bloodshed.

The villain's fingers closed around the king's chin, leaning closer. Her smile rivaled the brilliance of sunsets. "Then prove how devoted you are to me. I know that you want me, too. And you can have me. I only ask one little thing of you." Her voice softened, narrowing the world into just the two of them. "Get down on your knees and offer me your everything, sugar."

The very air around them seemed to hold its breath. The king rose to his feet, straightening to a height a full head above the villain, though there was still no mistaking who was truly in control. He turned and lowered himself to his knees, tender hands brushing her thighs to guide her to sit back atop his throne in his place.

His throne suited her far more than it ever could him. Surrounded by gold and precious jewels, the villain glittered, all the more striking.

The king lifted his crown, heavy and dripping in rubies, to perch it on the top of the villain's head. He sat back on his heels as their eyes met; drawn together with all the dazzling intensity of lightning meeting water. Deadly to those around them. But gods, such a beautiful sight.

"You are everything to me," the king spoke finally. "All that I am is yours. My kingdom, my throne, belongs to you. I only ask one simple thing of you. Take me to be yours too?"

The villain laughed, a little breathless, heady and cheeks flushed a rosy pink on the high of the moment. Some might interpret the action as patronizing.

The king perceived instead that, just maybe, she felt a little smitten too.

She clenched a fist in the front of the king's expensive shirt, yanking him upright to lock him in a searing kiss.

The world was theirs together.

This is a very short snippet, so I don't mind if you use it as a prompt! Just tag me if you do, please, so I can read it! :) A little piece of this dialogue popped into my head earlier and plagued me until I wrote it out lol Hope you like it. I think this makes for a really interesting power dynamic (and yay for female villains!)

PS, sorry for disappearing again lol I'm really going to try to do better! I haven't been reading much at all lately either so i need to catch up on all my faves' writing!!

[thepenultimateword]

Old Bones Part 3

Part One, Part Two

CW: Blood

When the vampire came downstairs, they noticed the stranger had been kind enough to draw all the curtains.

They crept through the soothing shadow, peeking in and out of rooms until they found the cabin's owner leaning back casually in a dining chair, flicking through the pages of a leatherbound book while their other hand perused the contents of a bulging satchel on the table.

The vampire blinked.

"That's mine!" they blurted before they could stop themselves.

The stranger's sharp gaze flicked up half lazy, all intent. "Oh, you're awake. So this is yours. I gave the woods a quick scan last night. Found it in the snow about a mile from here. I wondered if it might have been something you dropped."

They snapped the book shut and tucked it back in with the rest of the vampire's other hastily grabbed things.

"You may want to air it out, it looks like a few things got a bit wet."

They stood with a languid stretch and sauntered to the little stove across the room, lifting a small kettle off the stove and raising it at the vampire inquiringly.

"Hungry?"

The vampire snagged the satchel's broken strap and hugged it protectively to their chest. They'd vaguely noticed losing it the night before, but despite it containing everything left in the world they could call their own, they hadn't had the courage to stop and turn back. Now it was here, safe and comfortingly heavy in their arms. It gave them the courage to step a little closer to the stranger and their kettle's sweet scent.

"What is it?"

The stranger set the kettle on the table and turned to pull a cup and saucer from one of the cupboards. "Boars blood with a twist. I'm not certain what your diet has consisted of until now, but it seemed like a safe option."

The vampire cautiously slid into a seat. "I...I don't feed off people if that's what you're asking."

"I figured as much." They poured a careful stream of steaming red liquid into the vampire's cup, not even losing a drop to the saucer underneath. "I do. But it's not an uncommon practice to swear off the thing you once were, and you seem...disinclined to bloodshed."

The vampire was pretty sure that was just a nice way of calling of them soft. Maybe the stranger was right. They got lucky finding this cabin. If they hadn't, they weren't sure what they would have done. Would they have fought back? Traded the lives of people they'd grown to know for their own. They knew they had the strength, maybe not for all of them at once but maybe if confronted in groups. Still, they'd just run.

"You...drink blood?" the vampire said slowly. Their insides squirmed a bit, the stranger's casual remark on eating humans not passing by unnoticed. Maybe they could carefully feel out what exactly their host was.

The stranger shrugged primly, refilling their own blood-stained cup and taking a careful sip. "My tastes are more flesh-based, but I can enjoy a cup of warm blood."

"Y-you're not a vampire too, are you?"

So much for being subtle.

The stranger laughed. It wasn't particularly threatening, but it still sent a chill down the vampire's spine.

"No. Definitely not. Though I admit, we're in the same family. I bet you we could find quite a few commonalities and shared experiences. The biggest difference is I could eat you, but you would probably struggle to eat me."

The stranger shot them a sharp-toothed grin and the vampire barely kept hold of their cup handle, the base clinking shakily against their saucer.

"Oh."

They slurped a large gulp of blood for balance. They froze, staring down into the deep scarlet. This was delicious. Of course most blood had a nice taste to it now, but this was different, with hints of lavender and rosemary that were both refreshing and sweet. They set off the thick, savory flavor of the boar. They'd never thought of heating blood up before. It was like drinking it fresh, but better because you could add things to it. The vampire had also never thought of that since discovering that regular food now disagreed with them.

"More?" the stranger smiled, eyes gleaming. Obviously, the vampire was making a face, probably wide-eyed and embarrassingly ecstatic. The vampire really didn't want to reveal just how much of a fledgling they were, but...accepting a little more wouldn't hurt.

"Yes, please."

The stranger refilled their cup, and the vampire let the warmth fill their cold, empty belly to comfortable capacity, unable to help when their eyes fluttered shut.

"Why don't I set some of those things near the fire so they can dry properly," the stranger said, jolting the vampire out of their drowsiness.

The bag had been settled in the vampire's lap in favor of breakfast, but now they clutched it tighter. "Er....no thank you. B-but if you wouldn't mind showing me how to use the hearth."

"Of course." The stranger swept into the other room, and the vampire skittered nervously behind. The sitting room was probably the darkest of all the rooms in the house with only one small window set near the door. The fire burnished the furniture in a warm, orange glow. "I have a line you can hang books and clothes on."

They began unrolling a length of rope tied to a hook set above the hearth and knotted it to the top of one of the chairs.

"Just don't hang anything on the first few inches; I’ve singed a few socks that way."

"Thank you."

The vampire knew they were paranoid. Nothing was going to happen by letting their host touch their things, but it made them uncomfortable putting their narrowly rescued things in someone else's trust.

They felt the stranger's eyes watching them as they unloaded each soggy clothing item and damp book onto the clothesline. Luckily, it was only the items near the front of the bag that needed drying. They could curl up on the sofa fast, shielding at least their back from the hungry gaze. They wouldn't really eat them, would they? They could have done it last night while they were sleeping if that was their aim. And they'd made them breakfast. People didn't usually feed people they meant to kill. Well...unless they were fattening them up like a pig. The stranger said they ate flesh. The vampire was slender, probably not appealing at the moment, but maybe after daily meals of delicious boars blood...

Bang, bang, bang!

The vampire jumped a little in their seat, whipping toward the front door.

The stranger frowned, holding a finger to their lips and making their way to the door. They peeked briefly through the window before opening it up just a crack. The vampire shrank back from the stream of light that spilled through.

"Good morning, gentlemen," the cabin owner said, voice cheery. "What I can I do for you?"

"We don't mean to interrupt your morning," the villager at the front of the group said, He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a shock of wild red hair peeking out from his knit cap. The vampire shrank back further. They did not know the man personally, but they recognized his face from last's night mobbing. "We're searching the area for a vampire that was skulking around town. Have you happened to see anything strange?"

“A vampire?” their host said, sounding taken aback. “I don’t think so. I was inside all night with my doors locked, so I’m really not sure if it came by this way.”

The man nodded, daring a quick peek around the doorframe that made the vampire’s breath hitch. The stranger casually shifted their weight, blocking the doorway a little more with their shoulder.

The man backed up a step with a nod. “Well. If you see anything, just let us know.”

As they retreated back into the snow, the cabin owner suddenly surged forward. “Wait! Am I safe out here? What precautions are being taken?”

“No need to worry. Circle the perimeter of your house with rice or seeds and you should be fine. We’ve done the same throughout the forest along with some silver traps and nets. Try to stay inside. We’ll get it yet.”

The stranger nodded firmly, throwing out a little “Thank you!” as the group made their way back into the woods.

“Well, that’s going to be a pain.” They leaned back against the door with a bang.

“T-they’re really still out there,” the vampire said.

The stranger raised their brow. “I already told you they were. Did you think I was making it up?”

The vampire stared at the backs of their fists clenched into the legs of their trousers. “Maybe.”

The stranger laughed, not quite fake but also devoid of any real warmth. “What must you have been thinking about me all this time? Perhaps you really thought I wanted to eat you.”

The vampire flinched, and the stranger sobered a little.

“I have no intention of eating a houseguest of mine. I was being honest when I said it’s been while since I’ve had company. I will do my utmost to protect you.”

Vampire still couldn’t help but shiver under that intense, cutting stare, eyes yellow and utterly inhuman, but maybe, just maybe they believed them.

Part Four

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system