#seelie queen dresses

[pandoramusicbox]

A drawing of the leader of the two largest fairy factions in the world.

The blackened king. A dragon- pix hybrid.

And on the left, Lokum the queen of the fairies. She is a seelie

I don’t know if they ever meet face to face in the stories, but it was nice illustrating them like this.

Though I drew lokum skinner than what I normally draw her.

[soath]

Your new money analogy falls apart when that privilege is not wanting to be murdered.

oh, sometimes getting vagueblogged at brings the strangers into your inbox. i’ll assume this isn’t actually the complainer-direct, as i do have a lot of respect for them. now, as for my facetious metaphor—

i’m incredibly sympathetic to the gods not wanting to die! no one wants to die! existential threats, and extending that, existential threats to your siblings? that’s basically the most sympathetic there is. i would also probably kill for my little sister even if she was terrible; that’s the awful truth of family.

but the matron of ravens is intentionally removed from this motif very early on. she separates herself from the “family drama” and her calculus is very different than the rest of the gods. it’s not just about survival for her, it’s about securing what she’s worked for. laura bailey doesn’t waste lines and when the raven queen describes wanting to experience “the infinite” i think you’re meant to go Hey Wait. she’s ambitious! this isn’t just about existing for her, it’s about a power she has fucking put in the effort to obtain.

i was being silly when i used new money because I’m silly about everything—as a rule my posts are mostly for the laff— but joking analogies of that vein did not start or end with me. aabria iyengar speaking ex-cathedra as ms. coramar-seelie described the matron as a “class traitor”. what does it mean to have been a person and then throw in with the gods?

i do think there is much more than pure ambition to the matron’s actions—her status as a goddess of fate, someone who sees the strings tying it all together is clearly very important in any analysis of her—but the ambition is there. laura bailey made the executive choice to highlight her condescension, her need to continue to experience not just life but godhood rather than focusing on pure self-preservation. it doesn’t make her unsympathetic, in fact it’s one of the more fascinating things about her. but it does open her up for some jokes! i’m sorry they’ve caused such controversy. please enjoy this image of the raven queen dressed up like the monopoly man.

[soulofapatrick]

Heart’s Desire 2/2 - Simon Lewis x female reader

Summary: after talking with Alec you go find Simon

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: non really; a little angst

Y/N’s POV

As I step into the familiar confines of the institute, Simon tailing behind me like a lost puppy, his presence a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. The air is heavy with tension, a silent reminder of the events that unfolded in the Seelie Court, and I can’t help but feel a knot of guilt tightening in my chest. 

Jace is the first to notice our arrival, his keen eyes narrowing as he takes in our somber expressions. He raises an eyebrow in silent inquiry, a silent question hanging in the air like a sword waiting to fall. "What happened?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "Why is Clary so mad and upset?”

The weight of his question hangs heavily between us, and I swallow hard, the guilt threatening to suffocate me. How do I even begin to explain the tangled mess of emotions that led us to this point? How do I put into words the conflicting desires and fears that churn inside me like a tempest?

I glance at Simon, his expression almost pleading, and I can feel the weight of his uncertainty pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. It's as if he's bracing himself for rejection, for the inevitable fallout of our tangled emotions now that we're back in the real world where consequences cannot be easily swept aside. I have to swallow hard before I turn back to Jace, the bitterness of my words tasting like ash on my tongue.

“Stupid Queen playing her sick jokes," I mutter, the frustration and anger seeping into my voice. The words hang heavy in the air, and I see Simon flinch, a small sound escaping him that feels like a punch to the gut. I shake my head, unable to meet his gaze as I grumble out, "I need to find Alec."

Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and head out of the main room, the weight of everything that's happened pressing down on me like a physical burden. I stride down the corridor towards the bedrooms, each step a deliberate effort to put distance between myself and the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume me.

As I push open Alec's door with a sense of urgency, the familiar sight of his room greets me, offering a sanctuary amidst the chaos of my emotions. But my respite is short-lived as Magnus lets out a sound of surprise, his eyes widening in astonishment as I enter unannounced.

“Get out Mags.” I say to him, my voice tinged with urgency, gaze unwavering as Magnus glances between me and his husband in bed beside him. 

“You can’t kick me out of my own bed.” Magnus retorts, a challenge in the raise of his eyebrow as he waits for Alec's response. But Alec merely tilts his head slightly, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. It's unnerving how he always seems to be able to read me like a damn book, seeing through the facade I try so hard to maintain.

As Magnus huffs in frustration, he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he’s fully dressed and climbing out of bed, his movements swift and decisive. “Fine,” He mutters, tone laced with a hint of annoyance, “I’ll go get some coffee.” 

With a swirl of his jacket, Magnus strides towards the door, leaving Alec and me alone in the quiet intimacy of his room. As the door clicks shut behind him, Alec still doesn’t move, his eyes fixed on me with an unreadable expression. It causes me to swallow hard, feeling a surge of vulnerability wash over me as I meet Alec's gaze. But there's no judgment in his eyes, only a quiet understanding that fills me with a sense of comfort and warmth.

Slowly, tentatively, I climb into the spot Magnus just vacated, curling up beside Alec with a sense of relief that floods through me like a tidal wave. His warmth envelopes me like a protective shield, wrapping his arms around me and I rest my head on his chest, focusing on the steady beat of his heart until I’m able to think straight enough to tell Alec what happened. 

“Simon kissed me.” I mumble, feeling Alec's eyebrows raise in surprise as he processes my confession. He knows all too well how much I've longed for Simon to look at me, not Clary, and the weight of that realisation hangs heavy in the air between us.

“Why don’t you sound happy about it?” Alec asks gently, his voice soft yet probing. He shifts slightly, turning to face me fully, his eyes searching mine for any hint of what’s troubling me about this all. 

I swallow hard, the guilt weighing heavily on my conscience as I struggle to find the right words. "It's complicated," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, I wanted him to... but not like this.”

Alec’s brow furrows in confusion, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "What do you mean?" he prompts, his voice gentle yet insistent.

I take a shaky breath, steeling myself for what comes next. "The Seelie Queen," I begin, the memories of our encounter at the court flooding back with painful clarity. "She made Simon choose... between Clary and me.” 

Alec’s eyes widen in understanding, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place as he realises the gravity of what I'm saying. "And he chose you," he says softly, a note of awe in his voice. 

I nod, unable to meet his gaze as the guilt gnaws at me like a relentless beast. "But at what cost?" I whisper, the words barely audible in the quiet of the room. "Clary... she might not be my friend but I never wanted to hurt her.” 

Alec reaches out, his hand finding mine in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. "You didn't do anything wrong," he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "The Seelie Queen's games are twisted and cruel. You can't blame yourself for her machinations.”Alec's words of reassurance wash over me like a soothing balm, offering a glimmer of comfort in the midst of my turmoil. His hand in mine is a grounding force, anchoring me to the present moment as I struggle to make sense of the tangled web of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me.

“You’re right,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't let the Seelie Queen's games dictate my happiness." With a determined nod, I steel myself for what comes next, resolving to take control of my own destiny.

Alec squeezes my hand gently, a silent show of support and encouragement. "Go find Simon," he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Tell him how you feel. Don't let fear or guilt hold you back.”

I nod, a sense of purpose settling over me like a mantle as I rise to my feet, determination burning bright in my heart. "Thank you, Alec," I say gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I don't know what I'd do without you.” 

As I make my way towards the door, Alec's voice follows me, a beacon of strength and reassurance in the darkness. "And remember," he calls out, his words a silent vow of solidarity. "You deserve to be happy."

With Alec's words echoing in my mind, I step into the hallway, my resolve firm and unwavering. It's time to face my fears, to confront the feelings that have long simmered beneath the surface. And as I set off in search of Simon, I know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, I'll always have my friends by my side to help me navigate the stormy waters of love and loyalty. 

As I turn the corner, the hallway seems to narrow, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my chest. And there, right in front of me, stands Simon, his presence both comforting and unnerving in equal measure. The air crackles with awkward tension, thick with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. It feels as though time has slowed, stretching the moment into an eternity as we stand there, locked in a silent dance of uncertainty.

Summoning every ounce of courage I possess, I take a shaky breath and blurt out the words that have been weighing on my heart for far too long, my voice a jumbled mess as nerves threaten to consume me. "Iwantyoutowantmeto." I falter, needing to gather myself before I continue, taking a deep breath and gripping Simon's hands firmly in mine. "I want you to want me too," I repeat, the words clearer this time, though my voice still trembles with a mixture of anxiety and longing.

As the words hang in the air between us, I watch Simon's expression shift, a kaleidoscope of emotions dancing across his features—surprise, disbelief, and something else, something that sets my heart racing with anticipation. And then, like the sun breaking through the clouds, his face lights up with a radiant smile, his eyes alight with a warmth that sends a rush of euphoria coursing through me like a tidal wave.

“You  have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," Simon says, his voice filled with a mixture of joy and relief. His words wash over me like a soothing balm, banishing the doubts and fears that have plagued me for so long.

Before I can fully process his response, Simon tugs me towards him, surprising me with the strength of his embrace. His arms wrap tightly around me, pulling me close as if he never wants to let me go. In that moment, I feel safe, cherished, and loved—a sensation unlike any other. 

As Simon pulls back slightly, his gaze holds mine with a captivating intensity, sending shivers of anticipation racing down my spine. And then, with a tenderness that leaves me reeling, he leans in once more, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that ignites a firestorm of emotions within me. 

His lips are soft yet urgent against mine, a silent plea for reassurance and confirmation of the feelings we've both harboured for so long. The kiss is a symphony of longing and desire, each brush of his lips against mine sending sparks flying through every fibre of my being.

As the kiss deepens, Simon's hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. The corridor fades away, forgotten in the heat of the moment, as Simon presses me against the wall with a passion that steals my breath away. 

His touch is electric, setting my skin ablaze with longing as he explores every contour of my lips with a hunger that leaves me dizzy with desire. It's as if we're two stars colliding in the vast expanse of the universe, merging together in a blaze of passion and intensity.

“I told you to find Simon not make out with him in the hallways!” Alec’s voice comes from down the corridor as he leaves his room, breaking me and Simon apart, both of us blushing like teenagers, “I’m happy for you but no making out in the corridors.” 

“Yes sir.” Simon mumbles out, face going even redder after calling Alec ‘sir’.

“Alright Ali” I laugh.

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

don't mind me, just coming up with Sekais and image colours for my unit shuffle

Ariel's Music Box (Kanade, Saki, Ichika, Nene):

"Sea Sekai" is an underwater Sekai that's set in the Little Mermaid's palace courtyard which is scattered with music boxes. the Sekai was formed by Nene's feelings and is revealed to them after she joins the group, being the last one to do so. upon first entering their Sekai, each girl is given a key on a necklace that unlocks a special music box for each of them. Kanade's plays a song that her dad made her, and the twirling figures are a couple (her parents) dancing together. Saki's does not work and the figures seem to be broken off, much to their confusion. Ichika's has four children holding hands in a circle and the song is the one their old childhood band played when little. Nene's music box plays a soundtrack from the show she and Rui watched when little, the figures being a pair of children in costumes from that very performance, the girl dressed up as Ariel and the boy Ursula. the initial Virtual Singer is Luka who appears as a mermaid (as will the others when they come afterwards)

EMPEROR (An, Akito, Haruka, Shiho)

hardly different to canon, "Street Sekai" was formed by An and Akito's feelings. a colourful street that's lined with music and instrument shops. however, there are also a couple of nods to the idol industry, through posters and an abandoned stage that is more like the ones idols perform on rather than street musicians. the initial Virtual Singer is Meiko, who does still run a café. the VS that appear after her run some of the other shops

Suit Every Wonder (Emu, Rui, Mizuki, Airi)

"Storybook Sekai" is a cosy funfair that is themed after a different tale each day, "the page turning," yet the narrator, the initial Virtual Singer Kaito, always remains to guide the group. this Sekai was formed by Emu and Rui. rather than a gift shop, the funfair contains a small seamstress's atelier filled with outfits from children's books. one peculiar thing about the place is that although it is usually set during sunsets, the sky being a lovely pink, on some random occasions, the time seems to get later and the sky shifts to bluer hues as night suddenly falls. it is only Rui who is eventually able to work out the reason why- it is a reflection of Mizuki and/or Airi's feelings when dysphoric and he is the only one who knows both of their secrets

Vergifteter Apfel (Honami, Mafuyu, Kohane, Toya):

"Forest Sekai" is a Sekai set in the middle of fairytale-like woods, permanently evening and quite eerie, the sounds of wolves occasionally heard in the distance. it is unclear whose feelings formed it. the trees grow poisonous apples and there is a small cottage that they cannot enter for now. the initial Virtual Singers are Rin and Len, with Hansel and Gretel vibes, claiming to have been lost in the forest as long as they can remember

Wings from Fairyland (Shizuku, Ena, Tsukasa, Minori)

formed by Tsukasa and Minori's feelings, set in a mystical queendom above the clouds, "Fae Sekai" is based upon the European myths of fairies, ruled by its own Fairy Queen, Miku, the initial Virtual Singer of this Sekai. the concept of Seelie and Unseelie Courts are also present here. the first three VS that appear, during spring and summer, are of the former type, incredibly helpful, a little mischievous but otherwise pleasant (Miku, Kaito, Meiko) however, on Halloween, the initial three fairies disappear as the Unseelie Court takes over to rule during autumn and winter (Luka, Rin, Len) these fae being quite a bit more tricky...

character image colours:

[alexanderlightweight]

I am tired. I mean I did work 12 hours today but I’m just like bone deep exhaustion and I want to pass out but also write.

And Cat is amazing okay. I love Cat and Ragnor and Magnus’ dynamic and I will forever be salty that we got half the casts girlfriends on the show (I’m looking at you terrible seelie queen and Heidi) unnecessarily and we didn’t get more Ragnor and Cat. Like they could have flash backed Ragnor or brought him back or anything. And Cat was deprived of showing off her glory and wisdom.

Snippet of unnamed fic

—

“A moment, lovely.” Magnus says and accepts the call.

“Yes, Cat? Why on earth are you calling, it’s your day off?” And Magnus has to pull the phone away from his ear as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “They couldn’t handle being quiet for twenty minutes?” Magnus asks, and signs in irritation, “well did it work? Because I’m busy and they can either simply stop breathing and see if that helps or continue to hold their tongues. I have more important things to take care of than their need for gossip.”

And Magnus rolls his eyes as Cat mutters threats she doesn’t actually mean.

“Catarina, you would never set my library on fire. You’d be much more likely to drunkenly try to abscond with my medical texts, like that one time in Sweden.”

Alexander snorts in his lap and he’s looking up at Magnus softly, like he’s the best thing to see.

Which Magnus knows, but it’s nice to be visibly appreciated.

He preens and his thumb passes over Alexander’s tempting mouth.

“No, I am not busy with my ‘flavor of the month’.” Magnus adds air quotes, knowing it makes his shadowhunter laugh. “Alexander is moving in and we need to pick out his things.” Alexander looks startled and a little wary and Magnus shushes him with a single look. “Darling, I can see your grumpy pout under that lovely smile of yours. You can keep what you have at your place for emergencies and I can get you all new things for mine.”

And Magnus delights at being able to dress Alexander in whatever he wants.

Alec is squinting up at him, eyes shards of peridot and Magnus summons an oak tree to shade them, wanting to enjoy Alexander's hazel eyes under the dappled and soft light of leaf filtered sun.

“Oh yes, Cat.” He says to the silence on his phone, “sorry. The sun got in the way.”

“Does it still exist?” Cat asks, in a snarky tone that Magnus would appreciate so much more if directed at anyone else.

“Of course.” Magnus says immediately and then frowns, “Hyde park may be missing an English oak. I almost went with a weeping beech, but I was worried the shade would be too strong.”

Catarina makes a noise like Ragnor’s incredibly ancient —bordering on heirloom— tea kettle.

“Magnus.” She groans and she sounds in pain, “why?”

And Magnus wonders how he hasn’t made himself clear.

“I was missing out on the wonder of Alexander’s eyes because the sun was in the way.” Magnus says slowly. “So shade was required.” And Cat finally seems to get it as she says nothing else for a moment.

“Your Alexander, huh?” She says leadingly, “I think you owe me brunch and some bottomless mimosas as we catch up. I’d heard some chatter but didn’t pay it mind since you didn’t say anything directly.”

And Magnus rolls his eyes but hums, agreeing to it, because he and Ragnor make it a point to argue with Cat as little as possible.

She is nearly always right, and gets very smug about it.

[leo-sharks-struggles]

Anomalous: What DO they DO?

Vladmire Skoll- The Mayor/Dictator of Haven's Nook? He just does the paperwork people!

Prince Aerin- He's a prince third in line for the throne, but mostly he does nature info dumps and conservation social media.

Arthur McClellan- He owns and works in the small Veterinarian's office, he's literally available any time!

Damien McClellan- Owns the local pub. He's usally the only bartender but sometimes he gives freshly graduated students some work. Almost everyone in his pack works for him.

Craig Ethan- He owns a construction company. He likes to make things and also gives the younger crowd work to do.

Aaron Stevens- He is an architect for Craig's business.

Tabitha Schmidt- Construction worker, works for Craig, she also does crafts and sells them on the internets

Sean Schmidt- Construction worker, he also runs a counseling group for people turned into supernatural creatures like he was and are traumatized in some way.

Russel Kwiatkowski- He is a busboy for Damien most of the time, he also is taking a year off before going to college.

Meredith Lusk- She runs the big 'church' as the people call it, she also helps Vlad with paperwork and politics.

Telly Migdal- A tattoo artist, owns her shop, very good at making permanent charms under peoples skin.

Charmaigne Bolvick- Runs the hippy shop for Meredith. She is very good at finding nifty stuff.

Sylvia Skoll- Lady of the House, rears the children and keeps Nickolas in line

Nickolas Skoll- He works at a college as a professor, he teaches philosophy

Odette Skoll- She is a historian, she is very boring about it I swear

Pauline Skoll- A seamstress, she likes designing and sewing wedding dresses in particular

Ivan Skoll- A lout, does nothing but work out and hit on pretty girls, he's the baby(derogatory)

Queen Cypress- Queen of the Seelie Court

King Consort Aster- He does whatever Cypress doesn't have time for

Princess Alivia- She's Heir to the throne and has been training for it all her life.

Prince Ealfred- He is a soldier, he likes to polish his sword. And go on hunts.

Taglist:

@s-pendragon7

[tetsunabouquet]

Heir To The Lands Chapter 34

Troubled Proceedings Masterpost

Kit stood around as everyone introduced themselves to his foster parents, Catarina went off to make a Portal for Anush. He didn't really knew what to think of him, of being replaced as a sidekick just like that. Ty might be responding to his love for him now, but just how important was Anush to him? He tried to distract himself by studying Dru's friends. Thais he had already seen on a few pictures, her long curly dark hair was put into a ponytail and she wore the typical dark colors many a Shadowhunter dressed themselves in. The Asian girl who had introduced herself as Laura, a name he vaguely did recall, was dresssed in nude shades which made her shoulder length shiny black hair stand out almost as much if she had worn fully white clothes. The boy was tall and very broad shouldered and his warm eyes never left Thais, she was the only thing he could see. He wore a shirt that Kit swore he had seen one of his mundane classmates wear. He wondered how they were doing, if Debbie had already moved on. With the memory of her resurfacing, he felt especially awful for his jealous thoughts. Because its not like he waited for Ty either. He resumed his focus on the other two girls who stood out the most. One of them, Kit guessed she was middle eastern of ethnicity, wore the most stereotypical thick lensed glasses he could think of but dressed very feminine compared to the others, her entire outfit being pastel pink. The other one with her pale face and gingerbread colored curls was dressed in an ensemble so colorful that the only person Kit could think of who would dare to wear it being Magnus Bane. Kit could feel in his gut they were raised in the Old World. People over here in Europe really did seemed to have a better fashion sense then the average American and seemed to care more about the way they dressed. On average, Kit's classmates seemed to care just a bit more about something both being practical and fashionable at the same time then his classmates in L.A did. People from the Old World were snobs that way. It was then when a brown boy and a familiar blue skinned lady arrived at the scene. Kit tried not to think of how Ty's excitement at seeing his friend made his stomach churn.

Janus whipped his head around as he saw the other werewolf dash for it with the documents. However the muddy floor was even more slippery now there was blood in the mix and he had to take the few seconds to apply a balance rune, a few seconds he could not afford. He cursed under his breath, just as he tried to leap for it he could already hear the engines of a vampire motorcycle. He cursed under his breath and kicked the corpse of the werewolf out of anger but it did not eleviate his sense of fury. So Janus kicked the man again, and again. He kicked him until all of his teeth were spilled on the ground and his nose had nearly broken off of his face, the flesh having torn terribly. He growled as he grabbed the corpse by its scalp and dragged his body to the now opened up entrance of the Seelie Court. This was spelling trouble for them indeed.

Nene was driving the motorcycle as Bejamin quietly sobbed behind her, holding the bag of documents. She empathized with the young man's loss, she too knew the pain of losing ones beloved sibling. It was why she was here, how she had joined the League of Shades. Because the organization were known to have weakspots for certain Nephilim families, including the one of her darling niece and nephew. Protecting them and the world from the shadows was a far more preferrable thing to do then watching their world get torn down by the hag of that queen. Sometimes Nene wondered just how she had found the power to stay in that corrupt place for so long and yet net to be stained by it herself. But she wasn't letting the queen have her way, not anymore. Her days of listening to that powerhungry tyrant were over.

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

Art by the wonderfully gifted @high-warlock-of-brooklyn

Read the first Chapter of my contribution to the TSC What If Bang 2022 on A03!

The prompt I was given was the following: What if Kit claimed his throne as a teenager and met Ty years later, when he’s the King of Faerie and Ty is a Centurion?

Sneak Peek:

There was chaos in King Arawn’s throne room. The Seelie Queen had barged in just as prince Ash Morgenstern had been ordered to execute the Unseelie sovereign’s youngest son, Kieran Kingson. Mostly because, unlike his father, he was loved by their people. 

Why? the blond boy had asked, his lips trembling and his grip on the heavy sword as faltering as his resolve. 

Whatever little choice he had in the matter was taken from him when a moment later, Annabelle Blackthorn, Shadowhunter witch, dragged him through an interdimensional Portal, dooming him to a life in a lifeless world. Thule.

The Seelie Queen’s cry as her second child was taken from her had pierced the room. The Unseelie King, shaking with rage, had ordered his Riders and guards to kill her. 

And just as everyone in the room believed the most unexpected had occurred, King Arawn’s command died in his throat, replaced by gurgling noises. Blood was streaming from a gruesome gash slashed across his neck. The gathered faeries and Shadowhunters stood in horror as his head simply fell off his body to roll down the few stairs and halt in front of the crowd. The worst half exposed.

Behind the throne, a young boy - he looked no more than fifteen - was standing with a blood drenched dagger in his hand and he was wiping the weapon against his blue jeans. His mouth was set, his expression resolved, as if he had been working up the nerve to be where he was. To do what he had just done. 

Who was the Kingslayer? He was a puzzle to look at. The sharp facial features of the Fair Folk, although he didn’t have pointy ears. The bearing and muscular figure of a Shadowhunter although he did not bear any Runes. Most peculiarly, he was dressed like a mundane in a plain black T-shirt with holes in it and a pair of used sneakers under his faded jeans. It was clear though that he was much, much more. It wasn’t only that, despite his attire, he looked more kingly than everyone else in the room, sovereigns included. It was in the way his authority appeared undisputable, his rule, ineluctable. In the way he exuded power. 

His gaze swept the room before resting on the Queen, and locked. Her own eyes - the same blue as his - widened as she raised a trembling hand to her mouth. Auraline, she whispered in awe, but in the eerie silence, the single word carried across the room. Murmurs broke among the fair ones who now all wore masks of shock. The First Heir. Auraline’s child looks just like her. The First Heir’s alive. The Unifier. The Peace bringer. The news seemed to elicit equal terror and joy among the Seelie and Unseelie subjects.

The boy’s expression was unreadable as he moved to sit on the now deserted throne, his bare elbows gracefully positioned on the armrests. He extended one leg and tilted his head to rest a cheek on his left fist. 

“The King is dead…” He proclaimed in a cool voice.

As one, the fey assembled in the stone room dropped to their knees. The boy’s lips curled into a crooked smile.

“Long live the King,” he concluded. 

*****

Tagging @tsc-what-if-bang @high-warlock-of-brooklyn and my lovely beta reader @amchara

So glad to be back! Dearest 😍 @rinadragomir @gabtapia @noah-herondale-lightwood @spooky-drusilla @morgansmovingcastle @nicotheangel17 @deep-fried-brain-cells @of-same-steel-and-temper @immortal-enemies @babbling-brook-of-books @i-sold-my-soul-to-house-wrath @mferraz @belise5 @drmindduct @krisimarcheva @t0wergirl @lettersfromthecorvids @fluffy-bacon363 @insertwittyandsmartnamehere @ahumanbeingtryingherbest @hherongraystairs

[arcxnumvitae]

The invitation envelope is sealed with blue wax, the outline of the Meriet royal seal carefully pressed into the the center. The invitation itself consists of a single letter that reads:

❝The kingdom of Brecaea cordially invites you to join them in celebrating the Festival of the Blue Moon. We humbly look forward to your presence in ushering in a new lunar season that is set to begin on at . We advise that you dress in light, airy clothing and have footwear that will not be damaged by any amount of water. We also advise that you arrive by sunset on the first day of the festivities in order to fully experience the welcoming ceremony.❞

Along the bottom of the letter, the words “Please dip in water and turn over.” is written in neat lettering along the bottom of the invitation card. Once done, the rest of the letter continues as follows:

❝An additional, private gathering will be held at Castle Luvalon throughout the entire event. Overnight accommodations will be provided to all guests with this invitation. We advise you keep it in a safe place, to bring it with you on your travels, and to present it to castle staff upon arrival. Your host, Queen Dakota Tetrarch of Meriburn❞

(For the Seelie)

@sansloii || Party Time!

"Seelie's first invitation to a revel." The king examined the letter closely as the prince stood nearby. He didn't know much about his hosts, nor of the traditions on the mortal plane, but he imagined he should likely grow familiar quickly.

"Will we be attending?" Not that the answer wasn't already obvious.

"We will. I will discuss particulars with Seòras later, as well as who to bring with us. We will likely have to bring along some of the younger gentry," his father frowned, "since the current members of the Council did not seem enthusiastic about traveling beyond Seelie's borders." From the tone his father used, it seemed 'unenthusiastic' would be putting it lightly. The man looked up to meet his son's gaze.

"I expect you to act befitting our land. It would do well to make a good first impression I suppose."

Ah, so no pressure then.

[thechangeling]

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

Alyssa Reyes finds herself in some trouble and finds herself seeking help from The Unseelie King.

Cw: Sex mention, binge drinking mention, mentions of ableism and racism, autistic dehumanization, and what I like to call enneagram four trauma. 

Song title is from Taylor Swift's Antihero.

For my fellow autistic enneagram fours. 💜

-

Alyssa raced across the winding dirt pathways, frantically brushing past bushes and low hanging branches that were obstructing her way. Her chest heaved rapidly as she gasped for air. 

Damn she really was out of shape, and now she was paying the price for it.

Her lungs burned so badly that she was almost considering stopping for just a moment. But the sounds of the Seelie soldiers chasing her quickly deterred her from making that choice, so she pressed on, heaving and kicking up dirt as she ran. 

This was all her fault. She had made a stupid and impulsive decision in the middle of wallowing in despair and now naturally she was suffering for it. Granted she thought the soldiers were a slight overreaction, but Janus really didn’t mess around. 

Janus. Fucking hell. He was real. Like literally real. He looked exactly like the pictures she had seen of Jace Herondale in books on The Mortal War. (Alyssa had commented that he looked like the kind of guy who would call her a slur to her face and Ty had shoved her lightly, shaking his head.) Ty had told her stories about Thule and how there were other versions of them. How the alternate Jace had managed to escape here and was now rumored hiding out in Seelie, plotting with the queen. 

As it turns out that rumour was pretty fucking true. 

Aly stumbled over a messy patch of weeds and immediately shot out her hand to balance herself against a nearby tree trunk. Pure boiling panic was searing through her skin, like it was burning her from the inside. She knew she should probably just transform to her wolf form. That way she would be faster, and she could even defend herself if she absolutely had to. But she knew killing Seelie soldiers when they were technically just exercising their right to defend their territory would probably not go over super well with The Clave. She wasn’t even supposed to be here at all.

Once again, she was kind of amazed at her own stupidity. Had she really needed sex that badly? The answer was no, of course not. But in the moment she had wanted to cling to someone, to be close. Whenever Alyssa was feeling wounded, she always looked for someone to give her attention to make her feel better. She felt needy and insecure, so she would grab whoever she could, some random person to call her beautiful and funny and interesting, to make her feel like she mattered. Then her impulsivity due to her ADHD would lead to making shitty and questionable choices and whoops! 

She frantically looked up ahead. The checkpoint between Seelie and Unseelie was now in her sights, guarded by Unseelie soldiers. If she could just get there, get to Kieran then everything would be ok. Aly knew it might be stupid to put so much faith in a stranger, but the way Ty talked about him made her feel like she could trust him. And if he knew she was a friend of Tiberius Blackthorn, kin of his beloved Mark, then he would be inclined to help. At least she really hoped. 

But at this point, she really didn’t have any other options. 

There was a dark whispering in the back of her head, telling just to give up. Telling her to let death come for her because what was the point? 

“There she is!” she heard a deep voice call from a few paces behind her. “Surround her! Do not allow her to escape!” 

And just like that, Alyssa’s feet were moving again. 

-

When she finally arrived at the checkpoint she was panting and drenched in sweat. Kieran’s redcaps immediately tensed at the sight of her, falling into a combat stance and drawing their weapons. They were dressed in dark red and black armor, with dark red velvet capes. Spikes adorned the pauldrons and there was an intricate engraving of the Unseelie broken crown on the breastplate. Some soldiers carried swords, and some clearly favored the bow. She slowed down against her better judgment and immediately registered the burn of her calves. Alyssa could still hear the Seelies on her heels.

She took a gasping breath. “Please.” 

“Identify yourself!” The Redcap at the front snapped, eyeing her suspiciously. 

“I-” Alyssa fought for the words to come to her, but her brain was too foggy and exhausted. 

“She is a werewolf! She has no right to be here,” one of the soldiers exclaimed, pointing at the scar that ran across her collarbone, down towards her chest. Aly’s lungs still burned as she took giant heaving gulps. 

“Please, I need to see Kieran!” she finally managed. 

The leading Redcap scoffed at her. “You cannot simply demand to see the king.” There was a chorus of chuckles from the rest of the Redcaps. 

Aly’s knees chose that super inconvenient moment to give out. She collapsed forwards, falling onto her palms. Her whole body was doing that annoying shaking thing it did when she was completely burnt out. 

She forced herself to speak. “I’m a friend of Tiberius Blackthorn, Mark Blackthorn’s brother. The king will not be pleased with you if you turn me away.” She glared at them. “ If I die here, Ty will make sure you pay for it. Not to mention, the entire New York Pack will seek vengeance.” 

But was that really true? Would Ty really seek vengeance in her name? Would Maia or any of the others? Was she really important enough to anyone to receive that kind of devotion and loyalty? 

Would her death even really matter at all?

She shook her head aggressively. That was the voice talking. She couldn’t let it get to her. “Please,” she said desperately. “Do you hear those men back there? They’re coming after me. I need to see your king. I need his protection and a way back to my world, to my home.” She tried to appeal to the humanity of the soldiers, if they had any. She had to believe they did, she had to believe that most faeries weren’t naturally evil. 

“I understand you’re protective of him. It’s your job to be. If you want you can bind my hands. I promise you I am no threat to him.” 

The Seelie soldiers behind her were closing in and by now they could clearly see that she was at the checkpoint and in the custody of Unseelie soldiers. She hoped that would give them pause. The Redcaps exchanged reluctant looks amongst themselves. Alyssa could hear her heart hammering against her chest like a rabid animal trying to break free of its cage. 

She closed her eyes and considered sending a silent prayer to God. Instead, even though she knew he wouldn’t hear her, wouldn’t receive this message, she whispered. 

“I’m sorry Ty.” 

“Very well” a voice jolted her back to the present. Her eyes flew open as the Redcaps were pulling her to her feet.  She watched as one of the soldiers grabbed one of the vines growing nearby and tied her hands together in front of her. 

“We shall let the king decide your fate.” 

-

Alyssa was tediously marched along the aggravatingly long road to the Unseelie court. She and the Redcaps walked past tall trees and vast rivers and ponds filled with Nixies and Mermaids as well as some creatures she couldn’t even recognize.  She could see villages with little stone houses with luxurious gardens and children playing games outside. There were faeries everywhere, working, talking, painting, laying together in the grass staring up at the cloudless sky. 

It was honestly beautiful. She could see why Kieran had fought for this place, fought to protect it and its people. She was almost a little jealous, jealous that she didn’t live here, that she didn't have something of her own that she felt so in awe of. Alyssa was always seeing what could be, always wanting things to be better, more beautiful, brighter and more extraordinary. She was never satisfied. Nothing was ever good enough for her and she hated to feel this way, hated to be such a pessimist. 

People stared at her as they passed, children pointed and their parents whispered to each other frantically. Alyssa knew she must look like absolute shit, her hair a mess, her clothes dirty and covered in sweat. She also wondered how many of them had ever seen a mortal before, let alone a werewolf.

As she was dragged through the woods towards the outdoor Unseelie Court, she couldn’t help but beat herself up again for letting herself get into this situation. Sometimes it seemed like no matter how hard she tried not to be, Alyssa was just a problem. A mistake. Her parents certainly felt that way. She had been reeling from the effects of a rather suffocating dinner with her family where she once again dealt with questions of marriage and her education, a future career. Little pokes and prods and disapproving looks accompanied by remarks like, “why can’t you just be more like your sister?” 

Alyssa knew it came from a place of caring. She knew that they were only worried about her and wanted for her to have a good life. A life where she could be successful and have access to opportunities they didn’t at her age. But it hurt to know that because of her brain and the way it worked, the way she was, she would never fully be accepted or understood by her family. She didn’t want the life her parents wanted for her, she didn’t even think she could reasonably achieve it without completely burning out. 

She knew there were doctors and lawyers with adhd and/or autism, there had to be. But she was never a brainy type. Not smart like Ty. She didn’t come with her own special skill set that could be useful to capitalism. Just a love of alt rock, Buffy the vampire slayer, and a penchant for driving away the people she loved. So she turned to partying, to drinking, dancing and flirting just to feel something other than crushing disappointment at herself. At her own life, and at the world around her. 

This place was fucked. This society was fucked. The worst part was Alyssa knew it could be so much better. She could see it. It could be glorious. 

They finally came upon the Unseelie court, there were tents pitched in rows, most likely belonging to the gentry and the soldiers. Alyssa knew that most of Kieran’s brothers had gone into hiding after he had ascended the throne, but the ones that were left were most likely here as well. Not that she could recognize them. She could also see stalls similar to the ones at the shadow market selling their wares. Nobel fae wandered about, conducting their business. This time no one stared at Alyssa. No one even paid her a second glance. They were probably somewhat used to seeing criminals and prisoners of Unseelie being dragged before the king. 

And there was the throne, a massive towering stone structure. It was currently empty. Kieran was probably in his tent which was obviously the biggest and the grandest, covered in golden and black silks with the broken crown emblem stamped on them. A Redcap broke away from the crowd to approach Kieran’s tent, most likely to inform him of the situation and summon him to his throne. It was then, Alyssa realized again that perhaps leaving her fate in the hands of a stranger was not the smartest plan. Once and a while those old naive autistic tendencies that she thought she had successfully stamped out with a healthy dose of paranoia reared their ugly heads. The urge to trust and believe in people, the goodness of people. It was pathetic. 

Well there really wasn't much she could do about it now as she watched Kieran emerge from his tent wearing beautiful dark clothes made from silk and a long velvet red cape with the broken crown embroidered in gold. He was quite beautiful. She could absolutely see what Cristina and Mark saw in him. 

He also looked exhausted. Exhausted and pissed by the looks of it. His hair was jet black and his mouth was set into a fine line. 

Well that didn’t exactly bode well for her.

Shit. 

The instant he spotted her, a look of complete bewilderment fell across his face which was almost a little funny. However he quickly shook it off as he ascended the throne and one of the Redcaps blew a horn. Alyssa didn't know what it was for, but as the members of the gentry exited their tents and began to line up on either side of the throne, she could guess. This sort of thing was supposed to have an audience. 

Kieran continued to narrow his eyes at her as the members of the court settled down. 

“By all the gods, could someone explain to me what I am looking at?” He asked flatly. 

“Um... Alyssa?” she offered.

“She is a werewolf, Your Highness,” One of the Redcaps chimed in.

Kieran rolled his eyes. “Yes thank you I am aware of that fact. I was of course referring to, why she happens to be presently standing in my court.” 

The Redcap behind her, roughly pushed her forward. “ Your Highness, she was running from the Seelie court, pursued by their soldiers. She claims she connected to The Blackthorns and demanded to speak with you.” 

Alyssa scoffed. “I wouldn’t say “demanded,” ok? I was just kinda stressed out at the time.” She found that talking with her hands tied as an autistic/adhd person was incredibly hard, but she managed. “Look, I can explain.” 

The Redcap who had pushed her instantly grabbed her by the neck and squeezed. “You will speak when the king permits it!” 

“That’s enough Winter!” Kieran snapped. “Unhand her at once.”

Winter. As in General Winter. Aly had heard Ty mention him before. 

General Winter reluctantly obeyed his king, releasing her and letting her splutter. 

“Please,” Kieran gestured casually in front of him. “Explain.” 

Aly sighed. This was going to marginally suck. But if everything went her way, she would get to leave her with her head still attached. 

“I was at a party last night, where I met a Seelie,” she began. “We started talking and we really hit it off.” She instantly realized that certain mundane phrases like “hit it off” might not make sense to most faeries. But Kieran was used to spending time around mortals, and he was probably used to hearing people talk this way. “I thought he was attractive, he seemed to feel the same way about me, so the evening turned sexual and he invited me home with him.”

Kieran raised his eyebrow at her. “You were under the impression that traveling to another realm to pursue sex was a perfectly logical decision?” 

Alyssa blew air out of her lips in a huff. “Look I wasn’t really thinking clearly at the time. I was like, five shots of tequila in and I don’t know if you know this but tequila is evil! It will fuck you so hard and not in a fun way!” She found that in order to compensate for having her hands tied, she had started to sway back and forth a little when she spoke. 

Kieran looked like he was trying not to smile. 

“And anyways, I was just in like a really bad mood last night. And I didn’t want to think, I just wanted to feel good. I just wanted to stop hurting," she trailed off realizing she might be giving too much information. 

But Kieran was staring at her with a strange look on his face. Like he understood. 

"So I went back with him to a house in Seelie, which seemed kind of hidden away. Which in hindsight maybe should have been a giant red flag but I'm famous for treating red flags like welcome signs," Alyssa said with a self-deprecating tone. “So we slept together, had sex, made love whatever you want to call it and then-” 

Kieran interrupted her. “Was it enjoyable?” 

Alyssa faltered for a moment. “Huh?” 

Kieran was leaning forward in his seat. He appeared to be thoroughly invested in her story. “The sex I meant, was it enjoyable? I was merely curious.” 

Alyssa bit her lip to stifle a laugh. She had almost forgotten how casual and no BS faeries were about these things. She and Ty often spoke at length about how they were usually judged and considered freaks for speaking openly about sex. Allistic people called it “having no filter,” Alyssa called it being straightforward and not beating around the bush. She would never understand why alistics love to play 3D chess in their everyday interactions, also coding messages within other messages and then getting offended when someone didn’t realize what you secretly meant. 

It was ridiculous. 

But faeries weren’t like that at all. Alyssa could definitely get used to this.

She smirked. “I mean, yeah it was good. I tend to prefer women, but it was actually really good. Still debating whether it was worth it given my current situation,” she gestured with her bound hands. 

Kieran laughed. “Of course my lady. Winter if you wouldn’t mind cutting our new friend’s bindings?” 

Winter clearly looked displeased by this, but obeyed the command.

Aly wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a lady,” she grumbled, immediately wiggling her fingers once they were free.

Kieran looked taken aback for a moment, then nodded. “Apologies, how shall I address you?” 

“I’m just Alyssa,” she said with a shrug. “ Or Aly. I’m not anything.” 

Kieran studied her for a moment in silence. Alyssa avoided his gaze, fiddling awkwardly with her hair. 

“That is not true.” He spoke passionately. “Your presence is a delight.”

Alyssa couldn’t help but instantly snap her head back up, staring at his face. She still couldn’t bring herself to make direct eye contact especially now that she was trying to unmask. But she found the dark abyss of his Onyx coloured eye did not put her off in the same way. 

And there was something about his voice. The pure emotion of it. It uncomfortably reminded her of a time long ago, before she knew better. When she was so brutally open with her feelings, her bloodied bursting heart. She would show it to the world without a care, without thinking it through and then suffer the consequences. Kieran was a king. He should know better. 

“Go on then,” Kieran encouraged her. “What occurred afterwards?” 

And yet it was intoxicating in a sense. Being given permission to be genuine when she thought she had lost the ability to do so. 

Alyssa sighed. Now she had a choice. She could be honest and reveal the truth about Janus finding her there and explain why he was so furious. She could explain that the man she had gone home with was not just some common Seelie or even a member of the gentry, but the prince himself. 

Ash. The son of The Seelie Queen and Sebastian Morgenstern. 

But if she did tell the truth, Alyssa would be putting Ash in danger by revealing his existence to The Unseelie Court, to the enemy of The Seelie Queen. She hadn’t known Ash for very long but it was long enough to know that he wasn’t evil like his mother. Or at least he appeared that way. 

But what was the point of being loyal to a man she had just met? Especially when she had been burned so many times before. People loved to say, trust your gut, trust your instincts. But she was autistic, her instincts were fucked, like a compass that was incapable of finding true north. She trusted Ty. He had earned that. Possibly Anush now as well, but everyone else was suspect. But Ty trusted Kieran. Ty considered him family and she had to trust that. 

The soldiers were getting restless with her lack of response. 

“She is lying, Your Highness!” 

“You cannot trust this outsider!” 

General Winter moved to grab her again, but one raised hand from Kieran stopped him in his tracks and silenced them all. Aly was almost a little envious of how clearly adored he was by his people. 

“Are you afraid?” He asked her. 

“To die? No, not really.” 

A kaleidoscope of emotions crossed his face, he appeared both horrified and understanding at the same time. Kieran was silent for a moment, and then. 

“How would you feel if we were to speak privately?” General Winter immediately began to protest. “Guards will be posted outside of course,” he stated pointedly. “Given your current state, you must be eager for a bath and a clean set of clothing.” 

Aly blushed. Right she had almost forgotten how crappy she must look. Normally she wouldn’t. Normally her appearance was crucial for striking the right image, making people see what she wanted them to. But the excitement of the last few hours had distracted her. She nodded.

Kieran nodded back at her. “Very well.” He waved a few servants over. “Bring her to my tent, have her bathed and dressed. I shall join her shortly.” 

Alyssa scoffed. “I don’t need people to help me bathe.” 

The women Kieran had summoned all looked completely baffled at the way she was speaking to The King, but he just smirked.

“Very well. They shall draw your bath and then leave you alone. Has anyone ever informed you that you possess quite a prickly disposition, dear Alyssa?” 

“Yup,” she answered, deadpan. 

Kieran grinned at her. He grinned and in that moment she saw why he was so beloved. By his people, by Mark and Cristina, even by the Blackthorns. His smile had a way of reaching deep down inside of you and causing something to bloom. A compulsion of some sort. A compulsion to be near him and to keep him smiling. 

She had almost forgotten the Redcaps were still there, until General Winter not so gently nudged her towards Kieran’s tent. 

-

Aly had a complicated relationship with bathing. As an autistic person it was sensory hell and as an ADHD person she had a hard time remembering to clean herself often. Also due to “the incident”, she had a hard time being submerged in water. But she was also incredibly vain and obsessed with looking good, so her image required her to maintain cleanliness. So in order to deal with this, she often played music while she showered or bathed to distract herself and make it more fun. 

Tonight she was playing “I’m only happy when it rains” by Garbage as she scrubbed the dirt from her body. Her phone thankfully wasn’t dead yet, although it obviously didn’t get any service or wifi in faerie. She tried not to think about if she was being missed back home. If Ty and Anush were up in arms trying to rally a search party to go and find her.Not that it would amount to anything, most of the shadowhunters at that God forsaken place were at best, indifferent towards her. Or maybe they hadn’t even noticed she was gone. She could see Ty, too deep into a case to remember to eat let alone notice her missing presence. And Anush? 

Well they were getting along better now sure, for Ty’s sake. But Aly wasn’t really sure if they would be classified as friends. Not that she really understood the concept of friendship anyways. She had always struggled with knowing when it was ok to call someone a friend. She almost always got it wrong. 

And there was this barrier between her and most people. One she couldn’t seem to break. Ty had a version of this as well, but even he seemed to be ok at making connections after enough time and effort had been put in from the other person. Alyssa was distrustful of most people and resentful of any attempts to truly know her or understand her. Because it was fake. Because no one would ever be able to understand her. But she still wished she could be understood. She still wanted to be seen and known. To be loved. In her mind they were almost the same thing.

How long now had she been mistaking attention for genuine care? Attention for love?

She felt disparate, needy and pathetic. She latched onto whatever she thought would make herself feel better. Whatever she thought would dull the pain of normality. Of the boring dreary day to day mundane activities of this world. Nothing was ever special enough. She wasn’t even special enough. And she wasn’t normal, she was a freak who didn't fit in anywhere but she still wasn’t extraordinary. 

She was just a mistake. 

Every day it was like she was in mourning. Mourning the loss of her true identity, her true potential, whoever she was supposed to be. She was mourning the death of that girl. And now she just felt like a walking corpse. Like a ghost or a vampire. 

There was this theory discussed in disabled communities about being considered “socially dead.” Useless to society, useless to capitalism and therefore basically dead. Alyssa resented the idea being applied to other disabled people and she cursed the despicable nature of society, being so inclined to give up on so many wonderful, brilliant, intelligent and passionate people. 

But not her. She could see the worth and the significance in almost every person, even the ones she hated. But not her. 

As she bathed and dressed in the dress the servants had brought her she couldn’t help but feel abandoned. After all, if anyone was looking for her, Ty or Maia, or anyone really, wouldn’t she have heard about it by now?

 Well fine then. Fuck them. 

After brushing her hair out, which was made more wavy by the water, Alyssa stared at herself in the mirror. Most of the time she hated looking at her reflection because it felt like looking at a stranger. She could never find herself in the mirror. She stared at the dress instead of her face. It was long, white and silky with a baggy long sleeve. There was a scratchy material laid over the front skirt of the dress which had a sparkle to it. Aly found herself grabbing at it and rubbing it between her fingers. It felt good. 

She snuck a glance back up at the mirror and was startled to see Kieran’s face as well as her’s, staring back at her. 

“Jesus!” She exclaimed, grabbing at her chest as if she could calm her racing heart. “You scared the crap out of me!” 

“I apologize, Alyssa. I had assumed that you would hear my approach.” 

She was still watching him in the mirror. He seemed almost transformed, a completely different man from the one who sat on that throne. He seemed shy and gloomy, his shoulders hunched and his gaze dulled. Once again Alyssa could see that exhaustion prominent on his face, carrying throughout his entire body. 

Kieran sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which had shifted to a more stormy colour. A deep dark blue. “May I sit?” He asked, gesturing at the bed. 

Alyssa then finally turned around, staring at him properly. “It’s your place, you don’t really have to ask for my permission.” 

Kieran smiled a humorless smile. “Perhaps not, yet it is still polite to ask.” 

Alyssa couldn’t help but feel a little warm and fluttery at that. He was the kind of person who didn’t want to take advantage of his position to get things, to make people do things. Even though he probably could. She knew from Ty a lot of Kieran’s brothers were absolute dicks, using their royal status to abuse and manipulate people. 

And yeah sure, Kieran didn’t deserve a gold medal for not being a complete asshole. But Aly couldn’t really remember the last time she had experienced genuine kindness from someone who was basically a stranger. A person who had no expectations of getting something out of it. At the Scholomance she wasn’t exactly well liked by most people other than Ty and Anush. Most strangers either found her weird for being autistic in public or they were being flat out racist and decided to judge her based on preconceived bias or shove her into a stereotype. She had kind of almost gotten used to it in a way. 

Aly still didn’t believe in the monarchy or support it as a valid form of government, but maybe Kieran was the only person who actually deserved to be king. 

He smiled at her again. “Won’t you sit? We have much to discuss.” 

She flopped onto Kieran’s bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Right, you want to know about the Seelie.” 

Kieran nodded. “But we need not discuss it immediately. I thought I should let you know that I have written to my Lady Cristina informing her of your situation. She will get in contact with Maia and have her come to retrieve you.” 

Alyssa noticed that Kieran used more casual language with her when they were in private. Maybe he had become used to that way of talking from being around The Blackthorns. It also made her feel a little better to know that Maia actually wanted her back. 

Kieran was studying her intensely. “Forgive me but. I thought you would be more excited at the prospect of going home.”

Alyssa sighed, trying not to let her emotions overwhelm her. The last thing she needed was to start sobbing in front of Kieran. 

“I am, it’s just sort of hard to explain.” She gnawed at her bottom lip. 

Kieran gave her another one of those unsettling stares. It was almost like he could see right through her. “Would you care to try? We have time.” 

And normally Aly wouldn’t fall for this. She would go back to masking, put up her fake smile and her stupid manufactured persona and tell everyone that she was fine. It was no big deal, she was just being overly dramatic like always. Make a joke, give a well timed smile and hair flip, and then distract by changing the subject. 

But fuck it. Faeries appreciated honesty right? And she would be gone by tomorrow. 

“Do you ever feel like everything is meaningless? Like your life is meaningless and this world is meaningless and no matter what you do you will always be in pain because you’re like, inherently unlovable or whatever?” She asked.

Kieran’s gaze shifted to something that felt solemn as he nodded. “Yes I do feel that way sometimes. More so when I was younger.” He paused. “I came from a family that was incredibly cold and unnurturing. Such is the way of royalty I suppose. My mother who might have loved me was killed by my father when I was very small, and he only ever saw me as a burden or competition. Cruelty and neglect became the language of my upbringing, my childhood. I had no understanding of what it meant to love and be loved in return.”

Aly wasn’t really sure what to say. She had never been great at comforting people.

 “Man that really sucks,” she said with a grimace. “I feel guilty for whining now, my childhood wasn’t nearly as bad as yours.” 

Kieran shook his head firmly. “No, do not diminish the importance of your pain. It is not a competition.” 

Alyssa felt tears well up in her eyes. Not once had anyone ever said anything like that to her. Everyone was always telling her to be grateful for what she had. She had a family, a mother and a father who for the most part really did love her and were not abusive. They tried their best. She had a sister who she knew despite their differences and their fights, really did care. And now she had friends! Something she had been deprived of her entire childhood. She was given a good life with plenty of opportunities and everyone always reminded her of that every day. 

Not once had anyone ever told her that she was allowed to be angry or resentful or in pain. That she was allowed to feel what she felt. No one, not fucking once had ever told Alyssa that she was entitled to feel like she deserved better. That she had experienced genuine emotional trauma and that she was allowed to be traumatized and it didn't mock the lived experiences of other people. 

Until now. 

Aly wiped her eyes. “My whole life, I always felt so alone, like nobody really understood me. I felt so alienated by my parents and my sister. My aunts and uncles, my grandparents, none of them really saw me.” (Lola and lolo, her brain supplied. But she doubted Kieran would know the Filipino words for grandma and grandpa.) “I guess that’s still true even now.” 

Kieran nodded. “I was also misunderstood throughout my childhood. Everyone thought me to be far too emotional, too sensitive, too whimsical even.” At Aly’s confused look he laughed. “Yes, I lost that last one rather quickly as I aged.”

Alyssa grimaced. “Yeah me too honestly.” She worried about sounding too self centered. People had always told her that she was always taking over conversations and making everything about her. She never meant to, it was honestly just how she tried to relate to people. 

Kieran’s hair began to change to a more cobalt colour. “I also felt as though it was my doing. This abandonment and rejection I was experiencing. I felt as though it was my fault. If only I could simply just act differently and be what they wanted then perhaps I would be worthy of their love and acceptance.”

“Yeah,” Alyssa chimed in. “Like if you could just mold yourself into what they wanted then suddenly it would click and you would feel like you belonged. You feel like maybe it’s your fault for being incapable of true connection, like maybe you did this to yourself and if you could just stop being such a brat and let people try to be intimate with you then suddenly you would feel whole.” 

“But that never happened. It was never enough, I was never enough, and my father only ever saw me as a threat to his power. He sent me away to the wild hunt out of fear that I would take his crown,” Kieran lamented.

“But then you did,” she pointed out with a smirk. 

“Well yes. Because he did not deserve it. Because he had no love or genuine care for this land or its people.”

“But you do?” 

“Yes I do,” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I see so much beauty and promise in this place. In every person, every living creature, every little piece of this realm. It is all sacred, filled with the beauty of both the extraordinary and the mundane. Many mortals think us cruel and uncaring, but perhaps that is only because it is the only way we have known for centuries. In order to secure our own survival. I would like to show them another way. A better way. Perhaps it is a flightless fantasy, born of childish optimism. But I would like to try.” 

Aly was pulling at her hair, twisting it into knots. It hurt to hear him talk like that. To be so optimistic and positive. To have belief in something. 

“How can you be so positive? After everything you’ve seen? Everywhere I go I’m just so overwhelmed by how wrong everything is. How stupidly common and bleak and shitty this world is. It’s not what I want. It’s never been what I want. I’ve always wanted to make things better, to make myself better but it’s never good enough. I’ll always be broken.” 

Kieran reached for her out of concern, but she swatted his hand away. Alyssa didn't like to be touched randomly, especially by people she didn't know well. She stood up and began to pace in the room. She knew this was a messy and slippery slope that she really didn't want to be on. If nothing we do matters then all that matters is what we do. It was the mantra from Angel she repeated to herself over and over on days like this. But sometimes it just wasn’t good enough. She felt more like Faith. 

There’s just pain and hate and nothing you do means anything!

“Listen to me Alyssa,” Kieran’s voice was like a calm and steadying force that guided her back to herself. He pushed himself off the bed and carefully approached her. “I am not always so positive, as you said. I  miss my Mark and my Lady Cristina. Terribly. I am constantly overwhelmed by my royal duties and the nagging questions of whether I am making the correct choices. And sometimes I feel as you do. That the world is hopelessly mundane and full of, as you said, "shit." 

She smirked at the sound of him swearing. “You’re lucky you know. That you have them.” She wasn’t jealous of the romance. That wasn’t something she ever wanted. But she was jealous of their relationship in a sense. The feeling of being truly supported and loved was something she had never really felt. 

It was hypocritical as shit for her to feel snubbed by Ty for his lack of overwhelming emotion and affection for her when she constantly dragged Kit for his reaction to the same thing. But that was always the way with Aly. There were different rules for her then there were for everyone else because she was a self obsessed, horrible person. 

“Do you not have someone of your own?” He asked non-judgmentally. 

Aly shrugged. “I mean not really? Which is fine because I've never wanted a “person” in a stupid cliche romcom way. I’ve never felt like that about anyone and I don’t want to. But-” she trailed off. “I wish I didn’t feel so alone. I have friends, I have Ty which I'm grateful for. But.. I don’t know.” 

Kieran stared at her knowingly. “You feel as though something is missing. You need more.” 

Alyssa groaned and rubbed at her face. All of her makeup had been washed off in the bath and she felt strangely naked without it. “I don’t hold it against him ok? It’s not his fault. He’s just a head type, and I'm more heart. I live by messy bleeding emotions and sometimes Ty just doesn’t get it or know how to handle it. And sometimes I feel like I can’t keep up with him either, you know?” Alyssa didn't really feel like explaining the nuances of autism to Kieran, but honestly that was probably part of it. Each autistic person had such a unique and separate inner world that no one else could really break through. 

Like, sure they understood a lot about each other and related to each other but it wasn’t perfect. And maybe that was ok, perfect was probably a lot to ask for. But Alyssa still wanted it. Felt like she needed it. And at the same time she knew she would be furious with Ty if he tried to claim he understood her and what she felt, what she was going through. Because he didn't. No one did and no one ever would. 

Aly didn’t even think she wanted to be understood at this point.

Kieran looked like he wanted to reach for her again, but was restraining himself. This time she reached for him tentatively, testing the waters. His hands were cold against hers, she was always burning hot no matter what she did. He laced his fingers firmly in hers and swallowed.

“It is painful, to say the least. To feel as though no matter how loved you are, no matter how many new lives are intertwined with your own, no matter how much less alone you feel, you will always be separate. You will never truly be known. At times, it feels almost impossible to become a we.”

“And then you just decide that there is no we,” Alyssa chimed in. “There is only me. There’s me, and then there’s everybody else, and we’re never gonna merge.” 

Kieran made a humming sound and frowned at her. “Perhaps. However I would invite you to ask yourself if feeling truly connected to other people in every sense of the word is necessary.  Is it essential for true happiness?”

Aly scowled at him.

Kieran squeezed her hands. “Hear me, dear Alyssa. When I first laid eyes on Mark Blackthorn I was convinced he was my salvation. The answer to all of my troubles. I felt as though after a lifetime of loneliness and abuse, he would be the one to finally understand me, see me for who I was and tell me who I was meant to be. However I quickly realized that Mark was just a man and his love could not magically fix me, or give me all the answers I sought, and powerful love could still exist without a full understanding of one another. I learned this lesson once again with Lady Cristina, for she and I are even more different.” 

Alyssa dropped his hands. “How the hell did you go from accidentally getting Julian and Emma whipped by the wild hunt because you were trying to drag Mark back to you out of jealousy and paranoia, to feeling like this?” 

Kieran’s eyes widened in shock. “How did you hear of this? Tiberius was not present. How did he learn of the events that transpired?” 

Aly threw up her hands, flighty and casual. "I don't know? Maybe Mark told him? All I know is Ty definitely knows because he told me.” 

Kieran’s shoulders slumped a little as he sighed. “Well? What was your opinion of me once you learnt of this foolish and barbarous act? I must admit I am surprised you still sought me out.” 

Aly laughed humorlessly. “Honestly? My first thought was that I could see myself doing something like that. Out of desperation, out of pure selfish need. Out of fear of losing him.” She gravitated back towards the bed and plunked herself down. 

"I've always had this feeling my whole life, of needing to keep this death grip on the people I love. My family is a different story, they can’t leave me. We’re stuck together, that’s the whole point. But my friends, however few I’ve had over the years, I’m always so paranoid about being abandoned. So I get annoying and needy, and desperate even sometimes cruel and I end up driving people away. It’s kind of a miracle that hasn’t happened with Ty yet.” 

Kieran pondered this in silence, watching her. “It was one of my worst moments,” he stated solemnly. “One that I will regret for as long as I live. But we are not defined by our worst moments.” 

Alyssa scoffed. “Oh yeah? What if all you have are just worst moments? Just consistent fuck up after fuck up? When does that become who you are?  She gripped her hands into fists.

Kieran winced, looking down at where her nails embedded themselves in the tender flesh of her palms. 

“And the truth is I'm never going to change because I just don’t have it in me. Because I don’t want to change. As dysfunctional as it is, this is what I'm used to.” Tears began to cloud her vision as the truth of the situation hit her. Why was she like this, too stubborn to change or too afraid of things being different? 

“I have been like this for so long, bitter, jaded and miserable, that I don’t actually know who I would be if I was different. If I was happier and healthier." A pause. "I’ve spent so long building my identity around being the broken girl, the sick girl, that I don’t know who I’m supposed to be without those things. I don’t even know if that girl would really be me, or if I would like her. And it doesn’t matter that I don’t really like who I am now because at least this is mine. And it’s been mine for as long as I can remember.” She cried. Kieran watched as a silent shine took to her cheeks.

 “I’m scared of letting it go. I’m so scared to change that I would rather be a monster because it’s what I know.”

 Kieran looked like he was fighting off tears as he shook his head feverishly. “No.” He rushed to her, taking her face into his hands and cupping it gently. His body was shaking slightly and Alyssa felt it vibrate through her at his touch. “No, sweet girl,” he cooed. “You are not a monster. There is nothing wrong with your heart.”

“Yes there is!” she spat. Alyssa had no idea why she responded so badly to people making statements about her so adamantly. But she hated it. Maybe it was the idea that someone knew her. 

Kieran thankfully, didn’t argue with her, or try to convince her otherwise which kind of surprised her. He stared at her, his gaze full of contemplation and sorrow before he finally seemed to realize something. He carefully wiped her tears and pulled her closer to his chest, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. “You have every right to feel as you do,” he murmured. “I would not insult you by pretending to know precisely how you feel, as I know I myself have never appreciated when others would do the same to me.” 

Alyssa hummed in agreement against his shirt. 

"I do wonder, have you ever been asked what you needed? What you wanted? Or have other simply attempted to impose their solutions upon you?"

Alyssa looked up in shock. He honestly had a point. Ty notoriously was bad at just being with her in her shitiness and always tried to solve her problems for her. And she got it. He was just trying to help. But most of the time it wasn't really what she wanted. People were always trying to give her advice. Take this pill, do this therapy, try meditating, keep a journal etc.

Not once had anyone ever just let her feel. Just let her be in her emotions. Just grieve. 

"I want to be heard," she admitted. "I just want someone to listen to me and be with me. To let me just like, sit in my emotions and just be. Like, just let me grieve." 

Most people really didn't get her need to just sit in her feelings and allow herself to feel whatever she was feeling. Ty fondly accused her of brooding. Her parents called her moody and sensitive. Her older sister loved to accuse her of, "thinking she was the main character," or "living in a fantasy land." 

Kieran didn't do any of those things. He didn't ask her what she was grieving. He just sat down on the floor at her feet and smiled at her. "Alright. I am listening." 

So she joined him on the floor and told him everything. She told Kieran about the judgment and the isolation, the bullying, the fake friends and the abandonment. She told him the story of how Aly wrote that letter to her new friend in fifth grade, pouring with love for her and how the other girl started ignoring her afterwards. 

She told him about the crippling loneliness and self hatred, and the rage. She talked about how kids used to come up to her and pretend to be nice to her as a joke, asking her questions about her passions just to laugh in her face when she got excited and began to answer. How she was always the last one picked for everything and the one left without a partner for class activities and how teachers used to have to guilt trip people into playing with her at recess. 

She even admitted to him that after a while she started to pretend that she didn’t like playing with the other kids to avoid this. She pretended that she thought she was better than them. They were childish and immature and she was above all of that. She was above having friends, needing people. It was so pathetic, and none of them could ever really understand her anyways so what was the point? Alyssa told him about Kayla and the mistake she made by letting her guard down with her. 

She almost didn't tell him about the water, but Kieran created this calming nonjudgemental presence that was rare. Maybe it helped a little that she knew he couldn’t lie to her. So Alyssa let herself cry as she told Kieran about that night. How Kayla and her stupid friends had forced her head under the water, holding her down as she thrashed and kicked. She hadn’t known if they were ever going to let her go, hadn’t known if she was going to die there. She could even feel her lungs fighting for air a little as she told the story. 

Kieran didn’t say anything. He just held her hand and when he squeezed she found she could breathe a little easier. He told her a story of his own about how one night he woke to his brother holding a knife to his throat. He couldn't remember what Eric had been so angry about, but it was the reason that now he often had trouble sleeping deeply. He told her about his father’s resentment and anger at the common people’s affection for Kieran. How he knew that no matter what he did, he would never win his father’s love or respect. In his eyes he was just a mistake to be erased.

 He told her of how he was the target of anger and animosity from some of his brothers, or just plain indifference from the others. All his life he had only ever gotten things as favors with an expectation that they would one day be returned, or because he was a prince. No one had ever done anything for him for the sake of being genuinely kind until he met Mark. 

He talked about his mother and how he was pretty sure he father had her killed and he still didn’t fully know why, and now he never would. 

“But the truth of it is, beyond all of this I am just simply exhausted,” Kieran murmured. “I am so tired. Sometimes the weight of it, the weight of everything feels too heavy to bear. Do you ever feel as though at times everything is just too hard?”

“I do,” she admitted. “A lot actually.” 

“Then what do you do?” 

Alyssa sighed. “I mean, I don’t know, different things I guess. Like, doing the stuff I enjoy, being around the people I love, listening to music also really helps. But sometimes I’m just so depressed that I don’t feel like doing any of those things. But the stuff that works for me might not work for you.” 

She knew that most of the things that lifted her spirits and kept her breathing were influenced by her autism and her ADHD. When she was spiraling out of control she could put on Season six of Buffy and take comfort in the fact that she had her life support hooked up. 

She could hear the lines and recite them along with the actors under her breath like a prayer. And when she needed to cry, no one could judge her. 

Kieran nodded. “Thank you Alyssa. I must admit I find it difficult to find anyone who is willing to give me honest advice in this place. Yes faeries cannot lie but we are the masters of avoiding the truth and twisting it. I suspect most are too frightened of my position to…what is the human expression? To level with me?” 

Aly giggled a little in spite of herself. “Yeah, people tend to be afraid of royalty Kieran, you have the power to murder them all in their sleep if you wanted.” 

Kieran sighed. “Yes I suppose you are correct. Although I would never do that. And you may call me Kier, if you wish.” 

Alyssa felt something flutter inside of her. That was the nickname Mark came up with, only reserved for family and close friends. 

Friends.

Were they friends? She tried not to get hopeful. 

Kieran rose from her side. “Forgive me, you must be exhausted. It will be quite some time before your people are able to come and fetch you. I told them not to hurry.”

She looked up at him suspiciously. “You did? Why?” 

He should have looked imposing and maybe a little scary towering over her like that. But Kier just looked shy. 

“I confess, I was curious about you. I wanted to spend more time together.” 

And oh, didn’t that just sting in a peculiar way. The realization that someone actually liked her and she hadn’t even tried. She hadn’t even needed to try. She didn’t need to pull out her usual tricks and masks with many faces or even resort to bribery or flirting. He just liked her. He just liked being around her. 

And maybe, just maybe she liked being around him too. 

Alyssa smiled shyly. “I guess I don’t mind that.” She pulled herself up off the ground, wincing a little. 

“You should rest my dear,” he chastised her. 

She stretched out her arms, “I think i’m ok,” she mumbled. This unfortunately was undercut by a yawn which sort of undermined her point. Now that she thought about it she couldn’t really remember the last time she slept. 

Kieran gave her a look. “You remind me of Mark when he was younger. It was often a great challenge getting him to lie still.” 

Aly shrugged. “I don’t sleep great. I get nightmares. My life is kinda just a giant game of “how long can she stay awake before she passes out?”

Kieran stared at her in barely masked horror. “That is very concerning.” 

She scoffed. “My life is concerning.” She was starting to feel her exhaustion creeping up on her as her words became more and more slurred. Alyssa made her way over to the bed again and sank down into the softness and silk. 

“I could stay with you,” Kier offered. “Just until you fall asleep.”

Alyssa laid back against the feathery pillows. “Don’t you have more important things to do than babysitting me?” 

He shrugged, a weirdly human gesture. “ Perhaps. I would much rather be here though.” 

She had no idea how to respond to that, not to mention she was becoming far too tired to think. Aly hummed softly, closing her eyes. She felt the bed dip beside her as Kieran lay down. 

And then, just like a lightning strike, she remembered. 

Ash. 

Alyssa shot up like a rocket. “Holy shit. I almost forgot to tell you.” 

Kieran seemed merely annoyed by her outburst, narrowing his eyes at her. “What?” 

Alyssa felt the energy surge through her as her hands began to move. She grabbed at her hair pushing it back a few times. “The Seelie! I almost forgot to tell you! I wasn’t sure if I could at first!” she rambled. “But then there was the trauma sharing and the bonding and you said you like being around me and like, I don’t know I just- you need to promise not to hurt him unless you have to ok? Promise me!” She waved her hands around frantically as she spoke. 

Kieran was looking at her like she was insane. “Hurt who exactly? Alyssa what is happening?” 

She took some breaths to steady herself. “He’s the son of The Seelie Queen and Sebastian Morgenstern and his name is Ash. He’s hiding out with an alternate version of Jace Herondale from another dimension.” 

“Janus? He is here?” 

Alyssa winced sympathetically. “Yup. Sorry. I don’t think he’s here to check out the sights and do touristy shit. I think he and The Seelie Queen are planning something, something bad. With Ash.” 

Kieran pondered this. “I met Ash several years ago. My father was holding him hostage to use his blood. He was instructed to kill me, however before he could Annabel whisked him away to Thule.”

Alyssa blinked rapidly. “Do you think he would’ve actually gone through with it?” 

“He was hesitant, but my father can be very persuasive,” Kieran said with a dark, far away look in his eyes. “I do not blame the child, I know what it is, to be manipulated by the court.” 

Alyssa scoffed. “Really? If someone tried to kill me, I wouldn’t just forgive them.” She must have looked disgusted because Kieran gave her a stern look. It was almost parental. 

“You are not a very forgiving person are you Alyssa?”

“No,” Alyssa curled in on herself defensively, wrapping her arms around her legs. “I think people should suffer the consequences for their actions.” 

Kieran pressed his lips together, studying her with a calculating look. “Suffering? Do you truly believe that is the best motivation for change? Do you feel as though punishment promotes real genuine change? Has that worked on you?” 

Alyssa glared at him instinctively. Maybe he had a point. But she just couldn’t let it go. “He had a choice. He made the wrong one. That was on him. Sure it wasn't a good choice, sometimes you don’t have a good choice. But you always, always have a choice.”

To suggest otherwise is to make yourself an object at the mercy of the universe. Alyssa had developed most of her ideas on morality, philosophy and the idea of right and wrong from watching Buffy the vampire slayer and Angel as a kid. Sure she believed in redemption, but it was something you had to work for. This was also possibly the result of having a Catholic upbringing. 

And then of course there was the autistic morality of her brain that had evolved naturally. The black and white,  good versus evil, messy and vengeful part of her that wanted revenge because it was just and right and she wanted to feel vindicated after so much pain. After she had been hurt so many times. 

Kieran shook his head. “I am not disputing that. You always have a choice. However, I would argue that the circumstances we often find ourselves in are unfair and inequitable, as well as not of our own making. Ash did not choose to grow up the way he did in the environment he did, neither did I and neither did you. And I truly believe that when it comes to suffering, we are all closer to becoming monsters than you may believe.” 

Alyssa was instantly struck by a memory. An exchange from a scene she was ashamed to admit she had almost forgotten. 

“She’s a monster.” 

“She is an innocent victim.” 

"So were we. Once upon a time."

Kieran re adjusted his posture, fixing his rumpled shirt. “I believe that the important thing is to be focused on just taking one small step, whatever form that step may come in, towards being a better person. Towards being better than you were the day before. Change is gradual, and many do not have the patience it requires.”

Alyssa smirked. “Yeah I’m really not a patient person.” 

 Kieran laughed a little at that. “But quite frankly Alyssa, it is not about you. It is a matter of belief. Not your belief in a person that they can improve, but their belief in themselves. You spoke earlier of forgiving Ash. It is not a question of forgiveness, mine or anyone’s. One needs to wish to become a better person, not merely for the validation of others or out of fear of punishment. But simply because they want to.”

“No one ever wants to.” she protested. “Believe me Kier, I've seen what people are like when they’re left to their own devices, and now I'm in therapy. So don’t bullshit me about the goodness of humanity or whatever.” 

Kieran’s gaze fell in sorrow. “I understand why you feel the way you do. I understand why you would never wish to believe in those who harmed you.” He paused for a moment, his face shifting into a soft remembrance. 

He smiled. “But I also know that there was a woman who once reached for a man who had shown her nothing but contempt, and touched him oh so softly, who bandaged his wounds and never expected a thank you. I once thought shadowhunters were all horrible monsters who hated those that were different, soulless warriors who knew nothing of pleasure, or beauty, or love.” 

“I told myself that Mark was different, because he was half Seelie. It was not until I met The Lady of Roses that I realized I had been wrong. We are merely moments," he said softly. "Just one moment after the next. Some may be good, some bad. But as long as time continues to progress, there is always the capacity for change." 

Alyssa let his words sink in. She could relate to that. She felt the same way about Ty. He wasn’t exactly a beacon of kindness, but he was good. He tried. He always tried so hard to be good and not to cause harm. But lately Alyssa had been wondering if it really mattered in the grand scheme of things. After all, what was one boy, one man against an institution built on prejudice and bias. She hadn’t met Cristina but from what she heard, she sounded like an amazing woman. But not every shadowhunter was like Cristina. 

Being the liaison to the scholomance had shown her some of the ugliest kinds of behavior, and after everything Alyssa had already experienced, that was saying something. After doing the job for 2 years, (nearly three now) she was starting to wonder if there was really a point to it. Aly probably would have left ages ago if it wasn’t for Ty. If she wasn’t clinging to him like a lifeline.

Alyssa sighed, too tired to keep arguing. 

She honestly just wanted to sleep. 

"I just figured I should tell you about Ash," she said with a shrug. "Be on the lookout for fuckery."

Kier grinned at her. "I shall. Now you must rest my dear." 

Aly slowly lowered herself back into the fluffy embrace of the warm bed, pulling the covers over her. She almost groaned in relief as her muscles relaxed and all the tension she had been carrying finally started to flee from her body. Kieran gave her a ghost of a smile, barely visible. But she could still read his face. She had been an expert in reading faces and body language for years now as she studied them constantly. 

Kieran stared at her with a  familiar fondness that was hard to place. She was used to people treating her existence with either dehumanizing disgust or idealization and awe.

She could be extraordinary, she could be beautiful and entertaining, (keep them looking, keep them laughing) she could be monstrous and cruel, strange and off putting, the subject of gossip, (did you hear about what Alyssa Reyes said to the principal the other day, did you see what she was wearing, did you hear about the time she punched that guy, do you know who she slept with?) People were always telling stories, always crafting narratives, especially about people they didn't understand and Aly couldn’t help but notice that people seemed to prefer the idea of her rather than the actual person. 

People were always telling stories about autistic people, as elusive mysterious others, as phantoms. As creatures to be pitied or geniuses to be idolized but never understood. 

It was a rare thing to just be given the permission to be the girl in the white dress, exhausted and drifting off to sleep in the presence of a friend. An equal. 

For the first time in months, Alyssa Reyes slept soundly. 

-

AN: I swear if someone doesn't pick up on the "you are not a monster Kier," reference from LOS I'm gonna eat my liver.

The quotes in italics are from Angel the series.

Tagging: @lavender-scented-rat   @littlx-songbxrd    @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @amchara @wagner-fell @sandersgrey @the-wckd-powers @spooky-drusilla @arangiajoan

[elysiium]

& 𝐑𝐄.  OPEN  /  @dihstarters​

ALL  HALLOW’S  EVE  ,  a  night  where  the  living  and  the  dead  blur  .  but  it  was  not  just  ghosts  that  decide  to  grace  the  mortal  lands  with  their  presence  .  auraline  remembers  watching  faeries  cross  the  portal  into  earth  that  night  each  year  ❪  with  dark  eyes  and  a  heavy  heart  ,  unable  to  go  through  herself  at  the  time  ❫  .  the  stories  were  celebrated  through  the  halls  the  days  following  —  how  they  would  DANCE  WITH  GHOSTS  ,  play  pranks  and  cause  mischief  on  the  silly  mundanes  .  even  the  wild  hunt  participated  ,  scaring  people  ,  taking  them  for  wild  rides  on  their  yellow-eyed  black  horses  ,  trampling  through  their  crops  and  spooking  the  farm  animals  . tonight  was  not  so  different  ,  yet  in  ways  it  was  .  the  fae  were  indeed  out  tonight  ,  scattered  around  the  world  ,  many  in  the  club  here  tonight  knowing  their  queen  was  present  .  and  while  she  does  not  stop  them  from  playing  their  tricks  and  games  ,  auraline  was  not  as  lenient  in  their  behaviour  as  she  was  with  her  mother  —  only  HARMLESS  FUN  .  at  least  with  her  seelies  ...  the  unseelies  were  entirely  out  of  her  hands  ❪  and  there  was  a  reason  they  had  a  reputation  as  being  more  malevolent  ;  she  shudders  remembering  hearing  those  stories  ❫  . ❛  i  hope  you  are  behaving  tonight  .  ❜  she  says  ,  her  back  turned  to  the  individual  and  it  isn’t  until  she  turns  ,  her  patchy  dress  spinning  around  her  ankles  ,  that  she  realizes  it  is  not  the  person  she  expects  .  ❛  ah  ,  i  thought  you  were  SOMEONE  ELSE  .  ❜  brown  eyes  scan  the  crowd  around  them  for  a  moment  ,  seeing  that  the  seelie  she  wished  to  speak  to  was  no  where  in  sight  .  oh  well  .  they  wouldn’t  evade  her  all  night  .  her  gaze  returns  to  the  other  instead  ,  red  lips  forming  into  a  smile  ,  eyes  gleaming  with  the  upcoming  tease  .  ❛  though  ...  are  you  behaving  tonight  ?  ❜

[rosie-b]

How Marinette Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Ball

Chapter 3: The Heirs' Ball (Links to Ch. 1, Ch. 2)

Summary: Marinette crosses into the fairy realm for the first time and attends the heirs' ball, where the prince's soulmate will be announced.

As always, you can read the whole chapter below or on AO3 using the links above!

On the evening of the ball, Marinette spent about two minutes getting dressed and ready. 

It would have taken her even less time, but the instructions written on the tiny acorn she’d gotten in the mail were a bit hard to decipher, and Marinette wanted to make she didn’t say the wrong thing and accidentally tamper with the premade spell’s effect on her outfit, so she spent a minute and a half checking to make sure she had all the words right.

Standing in front of her mirror and wearing only what she wanted underneath the gown, Marinette took a deep breath and pictured her hopes for the dress one more time. With a single whispered sentence, she unlocked the enchantment in the acorn, and as Marinette held it, it began to grow, stretching out to become a long bolt of red fabric, which wrapped around Marinette and began to shape itself into an elegant gown. On Marinette’s feet, two slippers formed, and when she looked in the mirror, she saw that they were made from a red-hued crystal, strong and unbreakable but comfortable to wear. Marinette allowed herself a private smile. She knew getting an outfit from the fae would be exciting!

The fabric continued to shape itself around Marinette, spreading out into a sleeveless A-line gown with a Queen Anne neckline. The bodice was made of a red silk taffeta with black diamonds sewn in it, reminiscent of the ladybug-inspired dress Marinette had designed all those years ago, the first time she met Chat Noir. As the taffeta ruffled out and ended just past Marinette’s hips, a black tulle layer formed under it, creating the base of the full skirt. To finish, a golden glow of magic rushed up past Marinette’s shoulders, twisting her black hair into a low inverted bun and adding a thin layer of makeup to her face. The magic tucked a golden flower pin into her hair, and then it rushed down again to Marinette’s hands, manifesting as a thin card with her name on it. Marinette knew from the second letter she’d gotten from the castle, after she sent a letter accepting her invitation, that this card was to be presented at the main fairy gate, where she’d meet her assigned Seelie guard and cross into the fae realm for the very first time in her life.

Marinette felt a thrill race through her as she thought about it. For all her years interacting with Chat Noir, Alya, and various other fairies or mixies, Marinette had never yet had the chance to visit their home realm. 

There’s nothing that special about it, Marinette told herself. It’s just that everyone there has magic, and you might finally get to meet the real Chat Noir, who you are in love with, and his family after you leave the ball. Yeah. No big deal.

Brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her dress, Marinette headed downstairs, where her parents were waiting to see their little girl off.

“Marinette! That must be the dress they sent you, isn’t it?” Marinette nodded shyly at her papa’s question. “I had trouble believing that an outfit could grow from that acorn, but here the proof is in front of my own eyes! You look so grown-up,” Tom said, wiping a tear from his eye.

Nodding her head in agreement, Sabine pulled her daughter into a short embrace, pulling back and resting her hand on Marinette’s cheek. “You look simply beautiful, Marinette. I’m so proud of you,” she said.

Cheeks turning a light pink, Marinette looked down at her mother with a smile. 

“All I did was get a random invitation, Mama,” she insisted. “I didn’t even have to do anything but accept it.”

“Maybe, but the fact that you might be the prince’s soulmate speaks for itself!” Tom boomed excitedly. “I’m sure he’ll fall in love as soon as he sees you. But you don’t have to marry him, sweetie,” Tom said earnestly. “If he turns out to be a jerk like Chloe, dump him and come straight home. Okay?”

“Okay, Papa.” Marinette said, turning to give him a hug too before she left.

“Ah-ah! Hold on, Marinette, we need a picture before you leave! That dress is absolutely stunning, and you look gorgeous in it,” Sabine said, walking over to grab the camera from off the table.

“Mama,” Marinette protested, but she stood still for the pictures anyway, a radiant smile on her face. Afterwards, both her parents encased her in another warm hug, offering to walk with her to the gate and making sure she had a ride home after the ball, since they both had to go to bed soon after she left so that they could the bakery on time the next day.

Finally, Marinette was on her way to the fairy gate. A collection of about a dozen or so girls was already gathered by the gate, some of whom she recognized and most of whom she did not. One blond girl with a pixie stood out from the crowd, though.

“Rose?” Marinette asked when she drew close enough to confirm her suspicions. “You got invited, too? I thought you were dating Juleka.”

Rose turned to face Marinette, a bright smile on her face. “Marinette! You look gorgeous,” she exclaimed, running her eyes over the details in the red dress. “I am dating Juleka, so we both figured that I’m not the prince’s soulmate. Even if I do turn out to be his soulmate, I’d obviously choose Juleka over him anyway. I’m just here for the ball,” Rose laughed. “There are going to be so many pretty dresses to admire, and I’ve heard the palace ballroom is full of famous art. I promised Juleka I’d take pictures.”

“That was nice of you,” Marinette smiled. “I have to admit, I’m mostly here for the dresses, too. Although, I have a friend in the fae realm I’d like to meet when all of this is done,” she admitted.

“Oh, that’s right! Alya Cesaire, the mixie you introduced me to! She made me a potion for my throat after it got sore from practice once.”

“That’s her,” Marinette said, unsure if she wanted to keep up this facade or not. Technically, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. “She promised to guide me back from the fae realm, actually.”

“That’s so sweet of her,” Rose cooed. “Oh! Marinette, you have to meet Celestine; she came all the way from Duxford, England when she got her invitation. There are girls here from all over the world!”

“Hello, Celestine,” Marinette said, offering the redhead a hand to shake.

“Pleased to meet you,” Celestine said, taking the proffered hand. “I was really excited to get the chance to come here. Even if I don’t turn out to be the prince’s soulmate, this is still a great chance to see the fae realm! Parisians are so used to having their own fairy gate, but the rest of the world has to wait for the fae to visit them, or come here if they want to cross realms. I’m thrilled to be offered this chance.”

“I’ve never crossed realms before, either,” Marinette said. “It can be dangerous without a Seelie guide. It’s true that Parisians have it easier than most, but we’re all very lucky to have this opportunity!”

As the town square’s clock struck seven, the Seelie guides arrived through the gate, finding the girl they were assigned to escort and crossing with them to the fairy realm.

“Celestine?” a dark haired guide called. Celestine raised her hand, and the guard stepped over, checked her name card, and bowed, offering an elbow for Celestine to hold as they crossed realms. As they headed through the gate, another guard appeared by Marinette, tapping her shoulder to get her attention.

“Hello?” Marinette asked, turning around to see who it was.

“Hello, Marinette,” a voice belonging to a boy who looked to be about her age. Greeting her with a warm smile, the guide held out his hand, waiting for Marinette’s card. She handed it to him, eyes searching the guide’s hazel eyes as she wondered how he already knew her name. “Alya told me all about you, but I don’t think she’s mentioned me by name to you yet. I’m Nino Lahiffe, guard to the prince, Seelie guide on the weekends, and recently promoted to being Alya’s boyfriend.”

Marinette’s eyes widened as Nino briefly checked the card over and released the spell on it, leaving a magicless acorn in his hands. The dress remained on Marinette, a permanent gift from the Seelie rulers.

“Oh, that’s how you knew my name! Alya did mention you to me, but she refused to tell me who her new beau was until after the first date. Did you have fun together?”

Nino smiled, tucking the acorn into his pocket with a far-off look on his face. 

“I think we did,” he said wistfully. “She agreed to meet me again on Tuesday for coffee, so it can’t have been a bad date, right?”

“I don’t think Alya would have agreed to another date with you if it was,” Marinette laughed. Taking Nino’s elbow, the two of them stepped through the fairy gate, and the human realm vanished behind Marinette as she entered the fairy realm for the first time.

The gate stood in a park near the Seelie palace, partially to show the humans’ acknowledgement of the fairies’ right to rule the realm and partially to cut down on the number of Unseelies that came through the gate. Not many of them fancied going near the Seelie palace, but sometimes one or two would pass through to the human realm and cause some mischief. A misplaced wallet here, a possessed goat there, the damage was recorded and undone by the Seelies as soon as it was caught, but the gate’s placement helped to cut down on the frequency of these incidents. Since the palace was so close to the gate, the girls’ guides were really only a formality. Still, you never know when an Unseelie will pop up, so it is best that we stay on the safe side, Marinette mused.

Stepping through the elaborate gardens that made up the south part of the park, Marinette admired the different kinds of flowers and shrubs that were carefully trimmed and kept by magic. All kinds of songbirds made their homes in the arboretum nearby, their songs filling Marinette’s ears with sweet music. 

This is definitely more impressive than the human side of the gate, she thought with a trace of embarrassment. Maybe she could bring the issue up to the mayor sometime and try to convince him to improve the town square a little to show more respect for the alliance.

As Nino and Marinette left the park and approached the palace itself, she stared unabashedly at its size and grandeur. The white brick walls were decorated with gold designs, and the doors were made of a strong mahogany. Several turrets stood on the outer walls of the palace, and Marinette walked by a large fountain near the front gate of the palace. Nino opened the door for her, and she took a step inside, but before her slipper could touch the soft carpet on the floor, Nino pulled her back. 

“Wait,” he said. “There’s a quicker way to get to the ballroom.” Touching the doorframe, Nino closed his eyes and concentrated, and a green glow surrounded the pair. 

“There,” Nino said, brushing off his hands. “Now, when we step through, we’ll transport right to the ballroom. After that, you’re free to enjoy the ball. Alya’s mom was in charge of catering, so you’ll get a chance to try some of her special recipes while you’re here”

Marinette cautiously stepped over the glowing threshold with Nino, marveling as the scenery around her changed once again to a large ballroom with violet-painted walls and fine art.

“Woah,” she whispered, turning to admire the room. “This place is gorgeous!”

Nino smiled at her tourist-like wonder. “It is a pretty cool palace,” he said in agreement. “Hey, if you get bored during the party, you can come find me and Alya; we were invited as guests since we work here. Just don’t forget to meet the prince before you leave the ball,” Nino said with a wink. “I have to get back to the gate now; there are a few other girls I’ve been assigned to guide over. Enjoy the party!”

Marinette smiled. “Thank you,” she said, eyes shining in the candlelight of the ballroom. “I think I will.”

Nino turned to leave, and Marinette walked over to say hi to some of the other guests she knew. The music hadn’t started yet, since Marinette was one of the first guests to arrive and was technically early. The refreshment table was already set up, so after Marinette greeted Alix, who was wearing a suit and had somehow influenced the magic to give her shoes with collapsible roller blades, she wandered over to try the crudités. Oh, they have asparagus! Marinette noted. It’s out of season in Paris right now, but I guess with magic, they can grow it whenever they want.

As Marinette sampled the various appetizers and mini foods, the rest of the guests arrived, and the band finished tuning their instruments, beginning to play a soft waltz as the guests mingled and waited for the prince and his parents, the queen and king, to have their grand entrance. As the guides and other guests arrived, a few couples began to dance, Alya and Nino being one of them.

Eventually, a swell in the music signaled that the royals were arriving, first the king in purple robes, then the queen in an elegant blue feathered gown that swept down to the floor, and last of all, the prince, all announced by a fairy who stood by the band and used magic rather than a microphone to make their voice carry across the room. Though Marinette was already in love with Chat Noir, she had to admit that the prince was handsome. His bright golden hair was swept back in gentle waves, and the green accents in his black suit complemented the grass green of his eyes. His gaze swept over the crowd as he made his way to the small dais in the far corner of the room, and as his eyes seemed to catch and linger on Marinette, a radiant smile spread over his face, leaving a gentle pink blush on his cheeks. Marinette fought the shivers running down her spine and furiously reminded her treacherous heart that she was already in love with one boy, and that was hard enough for her to deal with, thank you very much.

“Each invited guest will have the opportunity to meet the prince in turn, one by one, until Prince Adrien’s soulmate bond forms and the conditions of the kwamis’ blessing are fulfilled,” the announcing fairy boomed. “This Heirs’ Ball, you will be going in alphabetical order. Because there are so many of you here, we ask that you please wait to join the line by the dais until there are only a maximum of five girls ahead of you. To aid with this, I will cast a spell which will allow you to see your place in the queue written over the back of your left hand. As the queue moves along, the number will change accordingly. While you are waiting, we have a table with refreshments set up by the west side of the room, and of course, you are more than welcome to dance along with the music provided by our talented band! I hope you all enjoy the rest of the ball!”

Breaking off the spell that had allowed her to increase her voice’s volume, the fairy spoke another spell, and Marinette turned her left hand over to see a golden ‘9’ appear over it, like a tattoo in a fancy font. It seemed Marinette didn’t have long to wait until she got the chance to meet the prince.

She’d played down her excitement in front of Chat Noir when he talked about it, and certainly she didn’t care about the possibility — which was really no possibility, Marinette thought — that she was the prince’s soulmate. But Marinette couldn’t deny that it was exciting to meet the future ruler of the fairy kingdom. Prince Adrien Agreste was not very well known in the human realm, and he’d only visited Paris twice in all his eighteen years, once last summer, and once the winter before, on diplomatic meetings with his mother. Queen Emilie was a more familiar face to the humans, and she met frequently with the rulers of the human world. Her taste in fashion was impeccable, and Marinette had always looked up to the designs she wore. Marinette had heard a rumor that King Gabriel, her husband, had designed them all, but she didn’t know if it was true or not.

Marinette finished her cup of sparkling lemonade and returned the glass to a waiter, smiling her ‘thank you’ to them. As the number on her hand switched to an eight and then a seven a few minutes later, Marinette felt grateful that she had an early place in the queue. It meant she would get to sneak out sooner to find Chat Noir. The last time they’d talked, he’d seemed tenser than usual, especially when she insisted that she’d rather spend time with him than stay to talk with the prince for longer. She’d managed to get him to agree to meet her in the main courtyard sometime past eight, but now she was feeling nervous. What if he couldn’t slip away from his father? Or worse, what if he didn’t want Marinette to meet him at all while he wasn’t disguised as a cat? What if he was embarrassed to be friends with someone like Marinette, who didn’t want to fall in love with the prince?

Marinette stole a glance at him over the heads of those dancing in the middle of the ballroom. He seemed nice enough, but a bit distracted. As the girl he’d been chatting with bowed and walked away, a sad look on her face, Prince Adrien’s eyes lifted, and happened to meet Marinette’s. Shocked, Marinette’s face turned red as she realized she’d been caught staring, but the prince quickly recovered from his surprise. Raising one of his brows at her, his mouth twisted into a smirk. Marinette’s mouth fell open at his audacity, but then a pair of dancing girls whirled past her, obscuring her view. Marinette took advantage of them and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, the number on her hand shrunk into a five.

On the other side of the ballroom, Alya and Nino were keeping an eye on both Adrien and Marinette as they danced across the wood floor in a style that theoretically resembled a waltz. 

“Do you think he’s going to tell her?” Nino asked, his voice a whisper against Alya’s ear.

“Oh, he definitely will,” she said, lifting her arm to let Nino know to twirl her around. “They’re both smitten,” she remarked after her skirts had finished flaring out and back down again. “Adrien isn’t even trying to hide it. He’s taking as little time to meet with the other girls as possible, and his father is starting to catch on. He won’t last a minute without telling her,” she laughed.

“Hopefully he won’t need that long,” Nino said. “Once their soulmate bond forms, she’ll have to figure it out, right? I’m still new to this star-crossed romance of theirs, but I think that telepathy would be a fitting bond for them to have.”

“That way, he can tell her everything without his father’s influence, before she panics and has the chance to run away,” Alya mused. “Not a bad idea, Lahiffe!”

“Alya, we are literally dating,” Nino said with a roll of his eyes. “Are you really going to keep using my last name?”

Alya grinned. “Yes,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

The pair waltzed past Marinette as she looked down at the three on her hand, working up the courage to go over and join the short line of girls by the prince. It’s okay, you’re still being loyal to Chat, she told herself. You’ll be able to look into those emerald eyes and smile and not fall in love. Easily.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette walked over to stand in front of the dais, waiting nervously behind the only other girl in line. As soon as Marinette took her place, three other girls walked up behind her, making Marinette blush as she realized she’d forced them to wait longer than they’d wanted to to join the queue.

 Soon enough, the fairy in front of Marinette was walking up to greet the prince, who was standing on the first step of the dais, his parents watching from their thrones on the top level. The girl bent into a deep curtsy and waited for the queen’s signal to rise. When Emilie raised her hand, the girl straightened and stepped closer to the prince, taking his hand in hers to kiss his signet ring, a silver band bearing the crest of the Agrestes. 

The announcer, who was standing to the left of the dais, motioned for the girl to introduce herself, and she gave her name to the prince— Victoria Dubreuil, daughter of Eloise and Maël Dubreuil from the Southern province.

The prince greeted her politely, and Marinette realized she was close enough to hear their conversation, though she tried to tune it out in politeness. She supposed it was too late to move the entire line back now. That probably meant the girl behind her would be hearing her conversation with the prince, too, Marinette thought in mild panic. Everyone would be able to know if she slipped up! She should have studied fae etiquette more carefully before the ball.

Overwhelmed by her anxious thoughts, Marinette nearly missed the end of Victoria and the prince’s meeting. As Victoria left, a bit disappointed by how rushed the conversation had felt, the king motioned to the announcer, who motioned to Marinette that she should move forward. Catching her signal, Marinette took a lurching step forward, her heel catching on her long skirt as she moved. Eyes widening as she pinwheeled her arms in a desperate attempt to regain her balance, Marinette realized that she was going to fall, here at the dais, in front of everyone… including the king and queen! And the prince!

But Marinette didn’t fall very far before she was saved from hitting the floor. 

“Falling for me already, Princess?”

Marinette’s head snapped up as she looked around for the source of the familiar nickname. But the only person in front of her was Prince Adrien Agreste, smirk back on his face as he supported her with both hands on her upper waist. He’d stepped forward to catch her, resulting in Marinette falling with her hands squarely on his chest. She stammered an apology as she pushed herself off of him, face turning red as she realized that this was much, much closer than she’d ever thought she’d be to the fairy prince.

“You’re sorry, I mean I’m sorry, Your Highness! It’s chest— just! I’m so clumsy, oh kwamis, I am so sorry—”

Adrien chuckled, a warm, deep sound that sent a thrill through Marinette. “It’s all right,” he said. Reaching down, he gently took her right hand and raised it to his lips. “I’m pleased to officially meet you,” he murmured as his lips brushed over her skin.

“Guh,” Marinette said intelligently, staring down at her hand. Where Adrien’s lips had been, a dark mark was beginning to form, and Marinette scrunched her brows together as she looked at it. Was it some sort of magical sign, to say stay away from this girl and do not let her into the fairy realm ever again, she committed crimes of klutziness against the crown prince ? Marinette shuddered at the thought of being tossed out of the fairy kingdom, a dark stain against her reputation literally on her hand for the world to see. What would she tell Chat?

Then the dark swirl on her hand began to clear, and Marinette blinked. It wasn’t a sign, after all! There were no words forming on her skin, only a silver tree with rust marking the edges of its boughs. A silver fairy gate, like the one hidden in the woods.

“W-what?” Marinette breathed, pulling her hand out of Adrien’s to look at it more closely. Sure enough, there was the secret gate, down to the rusted keyhole in the center! “What is this, what does it mean?”

Brushing his hand against hers, Adrien locked their fingers together, looking down at Marinette with a reverent expression.

“It means we’re soulmates, Marinette,” he said. 

Marinette’s mind went blank. Stepping away, she pulled her hand out of his, hardly sparing a cursory glance at the prince, who looked like a kicked puppy. 

Flexing her right hand, Marinette looked down at her mark again, her hand shaking slightly as she stared at it.

“We can’t be soulmates,” she whispered. “How could we be soulmates? Unless…” The mark on her skin had to mean something. Why would a picture of a rusting old gate make the prince think he was her soulmate?

“Princess,” floated through her mind. Adrien had called her Princess when he caught her. But that didn’t make sense. Only one person called her that!

“Marinette,” the prince said again, his voice soft and tentative. And that was wrong, too, she hadn’t had the chance to introduce herself! He shouldn’t know who she was yet… but he did.

Marinette paused, looking up at the prince’s open expression, his green eyes that seemed to be familiar, somehow, echoing the expression Marinette often saw on Chat when he talked about his hope for the future; how fragile it was. She looked behind the prince, at his parents, responsible for raising and protecting the country’s only heir. Wouldn’t they want to keep him where they could know he was safe at all times? Inside the palace, where the secret gate’s entrance was, hidden in one of the courtyards. Marinette inhaled sharply, peering closely at the prince, her lips forming a question she already knew the answer to.

“Chat Noir?”

Adrien’s face brightened suddenly, smiling hopefully as he looked at Marinette.

“Yes, Princess?” 

There was no doubt about it now. The prince’s cadence was just like Chat Noir’s, every inflection was exactly the same. 

“Oh, kwamis,” Marinette breathed. “It’s really you!”

Adrien laughed, glancing back at his mother, who was leaning forward in her chair with a hand on her chin, intrigued by their meeting. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, a flash of uncertainty showing through the smile glued to his face.

Marinette stared at him. “No, but there go all my plans for the evening,” she said, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that for over six years, the crown prince of the fae realm had followed her around Paris and pretended to be her pet cat. He purred , she realized. Prince Adrien Agreste purred.

“Well, I think that we can make accommodations for whatever it is you wanted,” the queen said, rising up from her throne. Giving her husband a poke in the shoulder, she urged him to get up and meet their son’s soulmate. “Adrien, darling, could you remind us of your sweetheart’s last name again?”

“Dupain-Cheng,” Adrien said with a smile. “One member of the best family of bakers I’ve ever met. No offense, Marlena,” he said, and the woman, who’d come closer to the dais with the rest of the crowd, smiled and waved a hand dismissively.

“None taken,” she said with a laugh. “I know where my strengths lie. And I’m still the best chef this country’s seen.”

“That’s the truth,” Queen Emilie said with a laugh. “Now, Marinette,” she said, her voice falling to a lower volume, “About those plans of yours? We won’t take up much of your time with formalities tonight, though in the future you can expect a good deal more of them if you agree to marry my son. I’ve gone through this too, you know, I’m not planning to overwhelm you with duties. What was it you were hoping to do tonight?”

Marinette swallowed. “Um. I-I was going to steal your son away,” she said sheepishly.

Standing by Emilie’s side, King Gabriel looked taken aback. “What?”

Marinette smiled awkwardly. “I didn’t know who he was then,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“Because you wouldn’t let me tell her,” Adrien said, slinging his arm around Marinette’s back as they faced his parents together.

Emilie sighed. “You have to admit that it was for a good reason, son,” she said. “At first, at least, when we didn’t know much about the strange girl you’d met in the forest. And then, our rule was necessary to hold you back. Your soulmate bond hadn’t formed yet, but that extra distance between you and Marinette, your secret identity, was the only thing keeping you from throwing three thousand years of tradition away for the chance to date a human girl. Not that we hold it against you, dear,” she said, turning to Marinette. “We don’t have any problems with you being human, either. My son is just a little impatient sometimes, and it is our duty to make sure the kingdom survives.”

Marinette pursed her lips. “I see,” she said simply. “You’re talking about the kwamis’ blessing, aren’t you?”

The queen nodded. “It can feel like a curse sometimes,” she said, ”but it keeps our country strong. I apologize for any strife it has caused you and my son.”

Marinette bobbed her head in a jerky nod of acknowledgment, aware of the crowd’s stares like daggers at her back. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the way his parents had gone about it, but it was obvious that they thought they were doing what was best for Chat Noir. For Adrien.

Finding his hand by her side, Marinette took it in her own and squeezed it tightly. “So, now we know what my soulmark is,” she said, turning to look up at Adrien (and not down at Chat Noir. This was weird.) “But what about yours?”

“My guess is that it looks just like yours,” Adrien said, raising their joined hands to kiss hers once again. “But it hasn’t shown up yet, which means ours is probably a kiss-triggered bond. Wherever you kiss me for the first time is where my mark will show up.”

Marinette blushed. “Oh,” she said, feeling her cheeks become flaming hot. “W-well, where do you want it, then, kitty?” Marinette realized too late that that was probably an inappropriate nickname for the crown prince, but if the smile on his face was anything to go by, he didn’t mind it at all.

“In the same place as yours,” he said softly. “That way, anytime I look down to sign a paper or reach for another bite at dinner, I’ll be reminded of you.”

“You’ll carry me with you wherever you go,” Marinette said, heart pounding in her chest.

Adrien smiled warmly at her. “I already do,” he said, his gentle voice soothing the last of Marinette’s fears away.

“Silly kitty,” she said as her blush deepened again. “Just give me your hand.”

“In marriage? Gladly,” he grinned, presenting her with his right hand. Behind them, a few coos rose from the crowd as they watched.

Taking Adrien’s hand in hers, Marinette pressed a quick kiss to it, marveling as the silvery mark appeared over his skin.

“We really are soulmates,” she breathed.

“We are,” Adrien said, sounding immensely happy and a little relieved as he clasped both of Marinette’s hands in his and looked into her eyes.

Emilie stepped over to the two heirs, placing one hand on either of their shoulders. “Are you ready?” she asked with a smile. Adrien nodded, and Marinette decided to trust him, giving his hand a squeeze as she agreed. Loosening his hold on one of her hands, Adrien turned with Marinette to face the crowd as Emilie stood beside them, raising her hand to show them off in a grand gesture.

“Fairies and humans, I present to you the kingdom’s heirs!” she said in a strong voice. “Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng. May the kwamis’ blessing keep them strong, and may this kingdom continue to know peace and stability into the future.” 

A healthy round of applause rose from the crowd, and Marinette blushed again at the attention, wanting to hide her face in Adrien’s shoulder. At the front of the crowd, Alya and Nino were cheering the loudest of anyone, and Alix caught Marinette’s eye to give her a grin and a double thumb’s up. Standing beside her, Rose had to pause her clapping to wipe a tear from her eye as she smiled for her friend. I just love romance, she thought happily.

Adrien bent down to press a kiss against Marinette’s cheek, and a smile spread over her face. She pulled him back down for a second kiss, her lips brushing against the edge of his mouth. They stared happily into each other’s eyes as someone in the crowd started a second round of applause and the king came down to stand on the other side of his son. Emilie gave him an approving smile as cameras and magic began to flash, capturing the image for future years.

The realm’s future was in good hands.

__*__*__*__*__

Several years in the future, Adrien sat on a velvet couch in his room with Marinette. She rested halfway across his lap, hands caressing her belly as they took advantage of the first calm moment they’d had since announcing to the kingdom that they were expecting a child.

“What do you think you’ll name them?” Adrien asked, pressing a kiss to Marinette’s cheek.

Marinette turned her face to her husband, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I suppose it depends,” she said. “Your grandparents got rid of the old naming conventions, so there aren’t any rules for us to follow. Now, there are almost too many options for us to choose from,” she said with a laugh.

“I have to admit, though,” she said slowly, her hand over Adrien’s as it rested on top of her barely-there baby bump, “When I was younger, I had three names picked out for kids, in case I married you.”

Adrien grinned. “You did? Princess, that’s adorable,” he cooed, pulling his wife close as she struggled in protest. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“It’s embarrassing,” she groaned. “And I knew you would tease me about it.”

Adrien gasped. “I would never make fun of my wife,” he said in false outrage. “That would make me nothing but a royal pain!”

Marinette giggled. “That wasn’t even good,” she said, poking Adrien’s arm.

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked, grinning up at Marinette. “That pun was my crowning achievement!” At Marinette’s unimpressed look, Adrien chuckled and rubbed the back of his head, loosening his grip on his wife as she slowly pushed herself off his lap.

“If you’d rather keep punning than listen to my name ideas you seemed so interested in, I can just go,” she said teasingly, making as if to leave the room.

“Nooo, Princess, come back,” Adrien whined, dragging her back down onto his lap. “I want to hear all about the names you came up with for our babies!”

Marinette smirked as she let her husband fold her tightly in his arms. “It’s just that there are so many of your ancestors with this name already,” she said with a sigh. “I never knew it was so popular. Seventy-four rulers named some variant of Louis in just over a hundred generations? You have to admit that’s a little ridiculous.”

Beneath her, Adrien froze, his arms loosening their grasp around her. “You were thinking of naming our daughter Louisa?” he asked, green eyes fixed on Marinette’s.

Marinette frowned. “We don’t know their gender yet,” she said. “But yes. If it was a boy, I wanted to name my firstborn Louis, and either Louise or Louisa if they were a girl. But I won’t be doing that now.”

“Princess, I’m telling you it’s going to be a girl,” Adrien said confidently. “I might not be able to see the future, but I can feel it in my bones. Comes with being a cat for so long, you know. And I think Louisa is a fine name,” he said. “It is a little weird that it’s popped up so often in our history, but it’s a good name. I had a theory about it as a kid.”

Marinette raised her eyebrow, settling herself into a more comfortable position on her husband’s lap. “Really?” she asked. “A theory? I want to know all about it.”

Adrien blushed. “It wasn’t a very detailed theory,” he said. “It was just, in history class we kept learning about all these Louis figures, and I figured it must have something to do with the kwamis’ blessing. They made the deal with the very first Queen Louisa,” he said. “Maybe that’s why so many of the heirs they secure are named in a similar fashion. The magic still recognizes who the original pact was with, so it influences the king and queen’s minds so that they’re more likely to choose Louisa for a name. If it’s a boy, then the name becomes Louis, and if it’s a girl but the parents want to follow Parisian naming trends, they’ll choose Louise as a name, instead.”

“Really,” Marinette said, pursing her lips as she considered the possibility. “Well, I guess there’s no point in trying to change my mind, then,” she remarked. “This poor baby was doomed to be named Louis since the magic influenced my name choices in collège.”

Adrien smirked. “You had their name planned since collège, you say?” he asked, nuzzling his nose against Marinette’s. “We were still so young and you already wanted to have a family with me! You’re right, that’s embarrassing,” he said, a teasing lift to his voice.

Marinette scowled and pushed his face away. “See, I knew you’d tease me about it,” she said with a huff. “Although, do I need to remind you that you’re the one who fell in love with me first? You weren’t even a teenager yet,” she said with a grin on her face. “ That’s embarrassing.”

“How is falling in love with your soulmate embarrassing?” Adrien asked with a laugh. “I’m just lucky that you fell in love with me right back. You know, I dreamed of having a family with you, too,” he said, lashes tickling Marinette’s cheek as he pressed a kiss to her jaw. “I wanted four kids, all with gorgeous blue eyes and dark hair like yours. That way, they’d be as pretty as you are.”

“Flatterer,” Marinette said, tilting her head back to give Adrien better access as he trailed kisses down her neck.

“An honest one,” Adrien murmured as a rumble like a purr started up in his chest. He kissed the hollow of Marinette’s shoulder. “And only for you.”

Lifting his head back up, Adrien pressed a lingering kiss to Marinette’s lips, smiling as she eagerly deepened it. 

“I love you,” he said breathlessly, after she eventually pulled back.

Marinette smiled, looking radiant in the light from the afternoon sun as it streamed through the window in the room.

“I love you, too,” she said. “And… I think that four kids sounds like a lovely idea.”

Adrien’s eyes widened in shock. “Really?”

A smile tugged at Marinette’s lips. “Really,” she said. “But first, we have to see how raising Louisa goes. You have to prove that you’re a good father.”

“I’ll be an amazing father,” Adrien said, cupping his right hand over her cheek. “I’ll even let my kids jump down a well, like I did. As long as I’m there to catch them.”

Marinette laughed. “They’d be hard-pressed to find a well to jump down,” she said. “Your father closed off the old gate for good, remember? Now all that’s left of it is a pile of magic dust.”

“And our soulmarks,” Adrien said, holding Marinette’s hand out so that the light shone on the image of the gate.

“Yeah,” Marinette said wistfully. “We do have our soulmarks.” She watched as Adrien pressed a kiss against her hand, smiling.

“When I ran off from the palace all those years ago,” he said, “I wasn’t expecting my little escape attempt to work. I didn’t even know the gate existed; I just remembered about the old well and decided it would be a good place to hide from my guards. But they were starting to check the courtyards, and I knew my cat disguise wouldn’t fool them for long, so I took a chance and tried the gate to see if it would work. And, Marinette,” he said, “I’m so glad I did. I know I would have met you anyway because of the kwamis’ blessing, but spending those six years alone, waiting for a soulmate and hoping that they’d be easy to love, instead of seeing you every weekend and falling more in love with you each time, like I got to do? It’s unimaginable.”

“I’m glad you found the gate, too,” Marinette said, brushing a kiss against her husband’s lips. “Looking forward to seeing you every Saturday was the highlight of my teen years.”

“Really?” Adrien asked. “Because you have a very impressive résumé from those years. Designing for Jagged Stone, interning at Style Queen’s Paris location, starting your own online boutique… you have quite a lot to be proud of. I’m honestly surprised I was able to convince you to marry me,” he laughed.

“Adrien, I’ve been in love with you since we were fourteen and you know it,” Marinette said with a smirk. “I’m only surprised it took you so long to propose.”

“Well, everything had to be perfect,” Adrien defended himself. “And I wanted to make sure you were comfortable enough with where your career was going first.”

“I have to admit, becoming co-ruler of the fae kingdom was never on my list of dream jobs as a kid,” Marinette agreed with a laugh. “I’m happy I was able to keep designing on the side.”

“Me too,” Adrien murmured. “I’m glad you have a job that makes you happy.”

“You make me happy,” Marinette said, smirking as she looked deep into Adrien’s eyes and lazily traced his chest with one hand. She leaned in for another kiss, the golden sunlight from the window bathing the couple in its warm rays.

Adrien closed his eyes and wrapped his arms tight around Marinette, unwilling to let go of this perfect moment. It had taken over a decade of dreaming and hoping, but against all odds, he had this happily-ever-after with the woman he loved. It was better than anything he could have imagined, Adrien thought, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

[ladyhindsight]

We’re almost 3/4 into the story but the story continues on as flat as ever. The pace does not pick up. It doesn’t seem like the culmination of any of the events in the story is arriving. There isn’t a lot to note on because I’m irate just about everything in this book.

Jace is staying in the Silent City and serves us another The Infernal Deviced reference. But again, these references aren’t just left there to be found. No, this one is underlined with Jace’s wonder, signaling some form of significance.

→ Someone had carved the letters JG into the stone just above the bedstead. There was nothing else in the room....

Jace dreams and sees Max in this dream.

Let’s go back to City of Glass chapter 6 and this quote then: 

Jace knew he was being cruel, and he barely cared. Hurting people he loved was almost as good as hurting himself when he was in this kind of mood.

Sure, dream “Max”

Max then beckons Jace to accept a rune that supposedly will forever fix Jace’s issues and he could be free once again to be with Clary.

But, alas. It was a trap. Who would’ve thought.

→ A spear of agony went through Jace, as if the skin on his chest were burning.

Jace is, once again, in trouble. We get back to Simon and Jordan who are talking about the Maureen situation. They are still trying to figure out who the tracksuit gang and the extortionists are while having but barely any effort in finding out the whole story so far.

Simon calls Isabelle and spills the beans about biting Maureen. 

She sounded unworried → sure. Which made sense → because you are trying to convince the narrative of it making sense? Also, it’s a marvel that no one loses their trust in Clary or Jace after this whole thing. Of course, Clary would lie, and Simon should be the first to know that.

They agree to meet up at the Ironworks party and plan the next steps they’re going to take regarding this Maureen/Chirch of Talto business.

Haha. Funny. Cut this and it actually shows.  ↓

“I guess you’re coming as my date now.” Simon shoved the phone back into his pocket. 

“We’d better get you something nice to wear then,” said Jordan as Simon headed back into his room. “I want you to look pretty.”

So there’s the Ironworks party held by Luke’s pack in celebration of Jocelyn and Luke’s upcoming wedding. Clary is worrying about her dress.

I’m almost 100% certain it would not be a hyperbole to state that there isn’t a one thing Clary does in this book that has absolutely nothing to do with Jace. Yes, it is a shallow thing to worry considering that there are more pressing issues at play.

IRRELEVANT.

Clary’s way of speaking changes to match the faerie, because style is more important than consistency.

Kaelie gifts Clary a bell which can be used to call for a servant of the Seelie Queen. Kaelie then leaves and Jocelyn comes to speak with Clary.

Oh. My. God. Which one do you think Jocelyn knows better and cares for immensely more?

Clary, apparently, is a mind reader and thinks that out of everyone Jace knows and who knows Jace, she is the only one with these thoughts. Of course Clary knows Jace the best, why on earth would there be any other important people in Jace’s life that know how to read him or understand him without words needed?

Jocelyn then validates further how deep and meaningful and strong and great and amazing and one of a kind the love Clary and Jace have is. After this, Simon arrives with Jordan and meet up with Isabelle.

Simon doesn’t need to know anything. → Her electrum whip looked like bracelets, loops of gold laddering her right arm. (A very Clare-esque sentence.)

With descriptions of Isabelle like this, it’s always fun to go back to this:

I think it is very clear to everyone at this point that there have been many changes to the books in the TV adaptation, and that the characters are different, as is the story and how it unfolds. Even the way Isabelle dresses in the show is not the way Isabelle would dress or did dress in the books. (I have a chart of every time Isabelle’s clothes are ever mentioned in the books. Largely it is long skirts, dresses, jeans and gear.)

Dresses with plunging necklines!!

Get him. It’s annoying, especially going forward from here, how Jordan constantly forces his presence on Maia, even by just ogling at her and commenting things on her. It’s incredibly uncomfortable and annoying. Isabelle, however, is a bro and the only reliable person around:

She’s willing to accept that you’re here and ignore you. But that’s all you get. Don’t bother her, don’t try to talk to her, don’t even look at her, or I’ll fold you in half so many times you’ll look like a tiny little origami werewolf.

Not that this has any effect on the subsequent events. They enter the party, and the chapter ends.

[tomepact]

@saintsdawn replied: i'm sitting down to take notes

the queen of air and darkness and queen titania have been enemies for so long no one remembers what they started fighting over and a very ancient bard told a story that they were once the same girl who made a land all her own and for telling that story he was turned into magpie who only croaked rumors for the rest of his life

the queen of air and darkness plucked a spider, a centipede and a fox out of the dirt and made for herself a collector, an inspector and a caretaker and told them to protect her before she sealed her soul into a black diamond. her body in the castle is just an illusion, and no one has truly seen her in millennia, except her consort who brings winter to the land of mortals (and even he has been missing for a long time)

titania decided the thing that separated her seelie from the unseelie was their rules and etiquette and so their games are just as cruel but are dressed in a veneer of Proper Manners and she tries to play that she is not the beasts that they are but everyone who has seen her angry knows her true face

the court of the seelie is titania and oberon and their children and her dearest companions, while the court of the unseelie is the queen of air and darkness, her three brothers, baba yaga and her spies and courtiers and both are playing the same very dangerous, very ancient game, with rules only they know anymore

and somewhere, deep in the archives of a place called the storyteller's theatre, is a storybook written by a little girl about a faerie queen and her kingdom. it's not kept by the storyteller anymore -- she went bad, turned her stories into inescapable terrors, and a man she spurned pulled her inside a magic mirror and sealed her high in a tower. now, it's kept by the fablemaker and his kings and queens and jacks and aces.

[thefairefolk-rp]

Welcome to TFF, Joss! Your application for Beatrix Snow has been accepted.

Name/Nickname: Joss

Age: 36

Pronouns: She/her

Timezone: MST

IC INFORMATION:

Desired Character: Beatrix Snow

Second Choice Character: Cora Winters

What made you choose this character?: I like the idea of a character whose allegiance isn't defined, and can be won or lost depending on how things shake out. Beatrix seems like someone who's suffered but who refuses to allow anyone to pity her, and who's achieved power without the advantages of her peers. I don't think she's entirely sociopathic or sadistic, I'd wager she actually finds most violence to be boring and somewhat distasteful, it's just something she does because it's her job and because her reputation is the most important thing to maintaining her current position. I like the idea of her with her own small kingdom inside Nightshade Row, and how winning her over to a side could affect things, or perhaps she might try and stay neutral and wait and see who wins. I can even see her capable of kindness to people who've also suffered from a similar loss of power, or alternately viewing them as weak since they can't seem to climb the way she did. She's very mercurial.

Are there any changes you would like to make?: I would like to, with permission, change her fc to Ni Ni or Dichen Lachman, the choice being up to the admins.

Questions/Comments: None so far

Writing Sample (Must be 300 words or more, third person limited, in the character you’re auditioning for’s point of view):

Beatrix understood the 13th fairy. The one in the stories who never got an invitation and arrived at the christening not with a gift but a curse. There was satisfaction in walking into a room where you hadn't' been invited, provided you wore the right shoes.

Beatrix always wore the right shoes. She had had enough years barefoot to value a well-fitted sole. She was even partial to an occasional joke about having lost her own and needing to buy more. Souls and soles. Easy to lose when you lived on the streets. And for what? Why, in a world full of magic and plenty, were there still orphans starving on the streets? What kind of royalty allowed such a thing? Say what you would about Lady Snow, but she never turned anyone out to starve. She'd rather just kill someone than take everything they owned and leave them to find their own way in the world. It was a kindness. She'd established a nice shiny new orphanage in Nightshade Row. It had good food and nice beds and every faerie child got a toy of their own when they arrived. If she added to the population periodically, one couldn't say she took no responsibility for the results of her actions. Which, in Beatrix's opinion, made her a better ruler than either court. She at least knew that she was destroying people and made no bones about it. The Seelies spent their time hiding anything too ugly, mostly by banishing it to the Unseelie Court, and Oberon was a child who got bored easily and refused to ever accept the blame for breaking his toys.

Currently, she was walking into Oberon's Grand Dining Hall, which was so opulent and glorious that it always looked slightly unreal. Which of course it was, as large sections of the room would be glamoured. Beatrix had originally styled the House of Snow on Oberon's court, when she'd been younger and less willing to bite her thumb at royalty, no matter how shitty they were. Now it was much more in keeping with her own style, as befitted a queen. Or at least a duchess. Queen of Nightshade Row was the kind of nickname people only used when not around any actual royalty.

Her outfit was payment from a couturier whose son had had a few too many losses at the table. Beatrix had decided that being the best-dressed woman at court was a much better reward than putting the woman out of business. And so she had original designs, the latest styles inspired by a true master of fashion, and didn't even have to pay for the cloth. She still did, because it never paid to irritate one's dressmaker, but she liked that the couturier knew that Beatrix could've demanded everything for free. It was a white fitted bodice with sleeves that sat off her shoulders and were slashed artfully to reveal her skin underneath, which was adorned with small jewels sewn in a mesh so thin it looked like cobweb. The skirt billowed with two pleats, the pleating the bright red of blood down her front like stab wounds. The skirt's hem was in the handkerchief style, tinged with red at each point. She had a ceremonial sword strapped to her hip, with a ceremonial dagger on the other side to even her out. Her boots were a marvel, made of sheep's hide with soft fur lining. They were so comfortable they felt like nothing at all and made no noise when she walked, and yet she could run in them at a full pace without losing her footing, though it might cause a mud splash on the perfect whiteness, edged with stitching that resembled snowflakes without being too obvious. The final touch was a tiny cockade hat perched on her head with a hat pin long and sharp enough to kill a man if you put it through his heart or his eye with a decent amount of force. And Beatrix had on more than one occasion. She hadn't cleaned the blood off of it. She'd always thought it was a nice statement piece.

Walking through the hall, an accompaniment of Redcaps just stlightly too large for politeness, Beatrix took her seat and perched her perfect booted feet on a chair that belonged by rights to an earl's wife. Let her try and claim it.

"Alright crew, remember to play the princely. We're behaving tonight. Mind your manners." Her crew laughed in a way that made several members of the table sit up uncomfortably straight and one or two look a little ill. Beatrix did so love ruining the appetite of her peers. Those lovely people who wouldn't have spared her a second glance, let alone a meal, when she was a starving child. Funny how life turned out, wasn't it?

Pulling the dagger out of its sheath (and oh but how that courtier scampered out of her range when she did!), Beatrix used it to clean her nails, knowing it irritated Oberon, but not enough to ban her from the hall. It was a game she played, following ALMOST all the rules. She liked to live life on a dagger's edge. Or rather, she'd submit fully and behave like a good little girl. Reputation, after all, was everything. At least half the people here owed her money, or were related to someone who did. If they thought she was capable of being bullied or brought to heel, they might start ignoring the payments they owed her. People were fickle like that, they needed a good reminder of why they needed to behave. And killing debtors didn't refill your coffers. Much better to scare 30 than kill one, if you could help it. Alas, sometimes the only thing these overfed, overprivileged, weak-willed, selfish, heartless bastards understood was a body. They lacked imagination that way.

"I wasn't aware you'd be attending this evening, Lady Snow." The Earl Frost, a distant relation, whose wife's seat was currently under Beatrix's boots, was attempting to cow her with haughty regard. Idiot. She'd been born with the same fucking silver spoon in her mouth as he had, and he thought he could make her scurry away like a servant, or blush with shame like some jumped-up nouveau riche merchant? Sliding the dagger back into its sheath with a firm hand, Beatrix gave Earl Frost her full attention. "What an odd way to say you're not interesting enough to know the guest list, Uncle Everard." He hadn't claimed the relation, or given her permission to use his name (and a stupid name it was), and she could tell it bothered him that she'd used "uncle" when "fourth cousin through a maze of marriages and births" was more accurate.

The truth was, she hadn't been invited. Technically. But, as a duchess, she was allowed to attend whenever she wished. She had a chair reserved for her, and if she chose not to stop by often, it was only because she actually worked for a living, unlike anyone who sat at the table with her. She suspected they'd all rather kill themselves than have to actually earn a wage or, horror of horrors, dig through the garbage trying to find something to eat that hadn't rotted too much yet. And if Oberon would have preferred she only come when called, well. He wanted the Redcaps to scare the tits off of his titled and entitled court. You had to pay the piper if you wanted to hear the tune.

"A toast. To all of you lovelyy people. You always remind me of what I lost and how I gained it back, which is a true gift." Some of the members of the table raised their glasses, some were still puzzling out what she meant, others looked as if they were trying to decide how offended they could be without violence occurring. "Oh, and by the way, Uncle Everard, your bill's due. Do come by and see me tomorrow."

[multistoty]

@hairofonyx​

[i need some fluffy feels for and I want to rp in our other au’s but i am not having as many ideas]

“My lady, I apologize to steal you from your waltz, but I would love this dance. I am not much apart of some festivities, but this party is in your and my brother’s honor and I think it only customary that I do a turn around the dance floor with the beautiful future queen in a blue dress so stand out from your seelie court against the symphony of red my fellow vampire’s have to dawn. the ballroom can give you a real understanding of how to get around the palace via Niklaus’s insistance and I am the one supposed to help you.”