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vibratingskull · 4 months

Note

I as so excited you open your request.

Can I ask a ThurfianxF!reader based on your Thrawn mate story? I would love if reader was sent to the Chiss Ascendancy by Thrawn (like he knew reader would match with Thurfian by her smell or something)

This will challenge our xenophobic boy, and I'm sure the fact that out of all he gets to meet his "mate" thank to Thrawn, will piss him off more than the fact that the reader is human.

g:xkf;glghogfuhfd THURFIAN MY BELOVED ❤️❤️ My old man ❤️❤️❤️ He would have a heart attack in all honesty 🤣

Beautiful drawing by the talented @thrawns-backrest

Tags : Thurfian is an ass, xenophobia, mate system and culture, attempted assault, Thurfian saves the day (Go King!)

Thurfian lays his head on his hand, scrolling on his comm. He likes to get an idea of the current climate through comms during his rare break times throughout the day to compare the info he receives on his official feed on his computer. It helps him get new points of view and perspectives.

That also means going through an impressive amount of tabloids. He really should look into how to block these sites on his comm, they are a nuisance and a disgrace to true journalism. He is scrolling through one of them rapidly when the title of an article stops him.

“Truly cut for the role? Why the Mitth Patriarch’s lack of mate highlights a worrying trend.”

He remains fixated on that one for a solid minute, completely flabbergasted. His first instinct is to call his lawyer to have that tabloid closed for the affront, but it passes quickly. Instead, he puts his comm down sighing, feeling tiredness washing over him. He passes a hand through his long braided hair, laying his head back against his chair.

The most painful thing is that that rag is true. All Patriarchs of every family recorded in history with a big H had a mate, no exception ever. Some found them sooner or later in life but none reached his age without a partner sitting with them on the throne. He is quite the exception.

The shameful exception.

He feels Thivick disapproving gaze on him during diplomatic dinners with other Patriarch and their mates, the seat next to Thurfian being desperately empty.

His hand comes to loosen his collar to allow him to breathe better. He closes his eyes, feeling defeated.

It was not always like that in his life.

He used to collect lovers back in his youth, potential mates or not, none were safe from his charm. A large collection of Chiss visited his bed when he was a young adult. He shamefully admits that he played potential mates to get access to their intimacy before leaving them when they were no longer fun. Non-potential mates were less difficult, they both knew what they were here for. And then he started his career as a syndic and left dating and playing around in the past to dedicate himself to his career. He, naively he will admit, thought he would meet a new potential mate at work, getting to know each other day by day, falling in love over time, and deciding to mate and unify himself with her, finishing his life at her side. Something simple and uncomplicated.

Boring to some, sufficient for him.

But all the women he met were taken, non-compatible, or rejected him. Mates tend to get together young when they can, way younger than he was already back then. He made peace with his situation, choosing to focus on his career and what he could do for the Mitth, becoming a “mateless”, one of those people who failed at settling down with a compatible person in time. Not the most glorious, but he could do with it.

And all was well.

Until he became a Patriarch.

And his situation was brutally rubbed into his face again.

A Patriarch without a Mate is a failure.

No matter their results.

Having a mate is the first step toward respectability in Chiss society, and a Patriarch failing at that task is the subject of gossip and mockery and always on the verge of being overthrown in favor of a more stable individual. It is such an easy insult to throw at him. And he fully deserves it. If he didn’t play so much with potential mates in the past he wouldn’t have his sulfurous reputation of player and heart stabber. Not so many potential mates would have rejected him since then.

He recalls how he used to modify his smell with perfume, something highly prohibited in Chiss society. Misguiding the potential mate of someone else by modifying one’s scent markers is highly illegal.

But he was young, hot-headed, and an idiot.

And today he pays the price of his entire life choices. He grew and matured decades ago but the harm had been done.

Sometimes he envies mateless species. Simply living and falling in love or living free of the marital and mating duties... Sounds comforting and liberating.

When was the last time he felt the presence of a potential mate?

Several years, easily.

More than ten years since he last smelled that delicious scent of honey, liquor, and tea leaves on someone. The one scent signaling him that this person is compatible with him. The same as his.

He greets his teeth.

“The Mateless”

His unofficial title when his back is turned.

His shame, his dishonor. The stain in his life.

But what can he do now? He is fated to finish his life alone, the question is more about how he will meet his end. Back in time, non-mated Patriarchs could get executed for failing their family, for being too unstable, and for not providing an heir to the family.

It was millennia and millennia ago, of course. Chiss evolved past those barbaric laws, but the prejudice remained, remembering Thurfian that ages ago his life choices would have guided him to the pillory.

Thurfian suddenly freezes and opens his eyes wide, almost trembling in shock.

That smell...

No.

It’s impossible. He must hallucinate, that’s the most logical explanation.

Thurfian suppresses a laugh at his own idiocy. Of course, it is impossible. Crossing paths with a potential partner at his age is simply improbable. He shakes his head with a light chuckle, what a stupid thought just crossed his mind!

He turns back to his files, waiting for the hallucination to settle.

But five minutes later, the scent he stopped hoping for is still here. Well present.

Heady.

Overporwering.

Making his head turn and his heart pumps harder. He almost starts feeling vertigo.

He gulps, passing his hand through his long hair.

He needs to calm down and be rational.

This is impossible.

But the delicious scent of tea leaves titillates his nostrils, like a dare, like a temptation.

He needs to be sure!

He almost jumps on his feet, before remembering who he is and calmly exiting his office. He is the Patriarch and a Mitth for the Warrior’s sake! He slowly, almost lazily walks in the corridors of the Manor.nHe really needs to keep his expectations low. They surely already know about his scandalous reputation. But maybe...

Just maybe...

They could come from a far enough away world to have never heard about it!

Highly unlikely!

But he cannot help but hope.

The further he walks into the Manor, the more significant the smell of tea leaves gets, the notes of honey and liquor mixing deliciously, enhancing that superior scent. Thurfian chides himself. By all accounts that mysterious person will already be taken and mated to someone else. But nothing prevents him from coming to meet and befriending them.

Yes.

A friend is also appreciable, he has so little left since he accessed the throne. He nods to himself. A friend would be perfect.

His comm rings, prompting him to stop to check it.

It is a Syndic of the family signaling that a stranger with the highest priority code message wishes to meet Thurfian, waiting for him in the Manor’s salon. The message is short and leaves no guessing about the urgency of the demand.

But not even a family name? Thurfian frowns, dubious.

And the salon is exactly where the delicious scent is leading him right now.

When he reaches the large and heavy old-style wooden doors of the salon the delectable smell invades his lungs and nose, he can breathe it in at each inhalation. That’s definitely them!

He opens the door to meet the Syndic who sent him the text.

“Patriarch?” They ask surprised, “What are you-”

“I am here to meet them.” He cuts them short, walking past them.

“Ah! Patriarch! Wait! Plea-”

Thurfian keeps going and passes the arches with palpitations.

He turns his head and...!

Stops dead in his tracks as the stranger turns their head to his arrival.

An alien!

A... Human!

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

“I need your help for a delicate mission, Commander.” Grand Admiral Thrawn said to you, skirting his desk to sit.

“Of course, Grand Admiral.” You stend to attention, “What can I do to serve you?”

Thrawn smiled tightly. Always energetic and willing to serve, obeying every one of his orders and missions with brio and excellence. You were one of his most trusted officers with Karyn Faro. Nothing he could ask you would throw you off your rhythm or deter you.

You crossed paths pretty early in your respective careers. You were one of the first to recognize Thrawn genius and merit in warfare and followed him ever since, asking the chain of command to affect you with him on every ship he received the commandment of.

Your loyalty towards the Empire slowly melted into loyalty towards the Chiss. He never said anything, that he, himself, could fail and precipitate your end. That he could become your very death if your true colors were revealed.

But you were just so good at your job! He trusted you with his life and he worked to keep you both out of the blast radius. He needed your competencies and skills at his side.

But...

Maybe the Ascendancy needed you more.

He remembers.

The man, looking straight at him with cold detachment during his trial before disappearing in silence.

His Patriarch.

Single and alone.

Unstable, they would say.

How could he command the Mitth family in those conditions?

Thrawn somehow sympathises. He knew he could only rise so high in Chiss ranks as a mateless, that at some point his genius would stop carrying him and his mateless character would stop any further ascension.

They needed someone with something to lose in command.

Not an unstable like him.

And as freeing as it was for him to come into a system where mates were not the norm, he also realized long ago that he couldn’t change his home in any meaningful manner. That the mate order was here to stay.

But maybe he was also not the only one suffering in this system. Now that he has risen to the top he understands the pure loneliness and isolation that come with power, but if it is here to stay for him, he can maybe still lend a hand to that man.

It is not uninterested, far from that. It is purely strategic. Chiss politicians seemed to care a lot about the mating order, to the point that mateless individuals could get fired at any given moment in favor of a mated. And Thrawn remembers his History books, the fate reserved to mateless Patriarchs.

To those men and women who failed to conform to Chiss values and therefore weakened their families. And although he has no real good grasp of politics, he has no difficulties imagining that a weakened family of the nine could greatly destabilize the current system and the Chiss Ascendancy as a whole.

So if he sends you, his little miracle back home, maybe he could help stabilize the powers in place. That was risky, but beating the odds is his trademark after all.

Admiral Ar’alani discussed it with him lately, confirming that the Patriarch that sent him away was still in place, still mateless, still unstable, and therefore dangerous to the Ascendancy.

Thrawn could very well wait for him to fall and get replaced, but Ar’alani told him that he remained a very powerful blood Mitth. A powerful blood Mitth that would owe him a very, very huge debt if his plan worked. And he knows he will need all the allies possible when he gets back from exile to the Ascendancy.

So maybe

Just maybe

If he sends you to that man...

You may just be his ticket to more power and freedom to protect his people.

Honestly, he didn’t believe it at first when he met you. How could you, an individual from a mateless species, be compatible with a Chiss?

But his smell didn’t misguide him. Your scent and pheromones are highly specific and match his Patriarch’s profile.

By all means it was a crazy plan, but he already agreed with Ar’alani that she would take you on the Steadfast and guide you into the Ascendancy. As an Admiral without ties to any family, she will be able to give you access to the Mitth Manor by playing her cards right and he will give you his message, his “peace treaty” as Ar’alani called it.

That’s very much not his style and usual strategies but how could he survive in the long run if his tactics don’t evolve with the times?

“At ease, Commander. It is a very peculiar mission, that will need fineness, dexterity, and tact, but I trust you. I know you will rise to the challenge!”

“For you, I will!” You assured him.

‘For you’

If you were any of his other officers he would have chastised and corrected you in an exemplary manner! You were here to serve the Empire and not just a single Grand Admiral.

But your relationship evolved past that point long ago and he came to appreciate your devotion to his person.

And right now he hopes this devotion is as deep as he imagined it for you to accept this mission. Because this is not just a diplomatic mission. It is a life-changing mission.

Mating with someone isn’t a laughing matter to the Chiss and he knows full well you will go without knowing your true purpose.

He cannot reveal it to you.

You would say no.

Understandably.

And he does feel guilty to trap you in such a way, but he knows his time is limited in the Empire and he must prepare his return to the Ascendancy. And a willing Mitth Patriarch could ease a lot of difficult situations.

He remembers his discussion with Ar’alani a decade ago, about how he saw people as tools. He needs to see you that way to send you there, no matter the friendship that came to form between you two. He eases his guilt thinking this is not such a horrible fate for you, to become the Mitth Patriarch mate is to live free of worries and wants, in a comfortable home with sophisticated and cultured persons.

You will have it easy.

At least money-wise...

Ar’alani warned him of Commander Eli Vanto’s tepid welcome among his people and chances are you’ll get the same. He knows you can take it, he is more worried about the Patriarch’s behavior.

Will he ever accept a human as a mate? Will the Chiss accept a human as a Patriarch mate?

Your status as a diplomatic agent will protect you but as soon as you will set foot in the Manor, the Patriarch will understand and his reaction is unplannable.

But those who don’t try and take action get nothing!

“I need you for a diplomatic mission. A very, very long diplomatic mission...”

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

"State to me again. Why are you here?" The Chiss asks you.

You straighten your back and readjust your position on your chair. What doesn’t he understand ?

“I am here on behalf of one of your good friends. I bring you a message and an offering of peace and appeasement, he also asked for me to offer my service to you.” You repeat, controlling your tone to not sound condescending.

It is simple really.

The chiss, the ‘Patriarch’ looks at you intently, his hands clasped before his lower face, his burning red eyes fixing you like he was trying to disintegrate you. What’s annoying you is his manner of bringing a perfumed handkerchief to his nose every five minutes, like he was keeping a gag at bay. You took a shower and dressed in a freshly washed uniform, why does he act like you reek?

Does Chiss have more sensitive olfactive receptors? Does humans smell is that unnerving to other species? Thrawn never specified any such info to you.

“Because you think he is one of my… ‘Good friend’?” The Patriarch asks with a sneer.

“He is your fellow Chiss, and a Grand Admiral of a close power nation with sensitive information about the immediate survival of your Ascendancy. He considers it sufficient to demand you listen to his propositions."

The Chiss eyes fall back on their equivalent of a datapad, reading again what Thrawn proposed. You’re only the messenger with Admiral Ar’alani, Thrawn didn’t specify to you the intricacies of his proposition and wrote everything In Cheuhn, his mother tongue.

As the man reads again the terms of the treaty you take time to observe him in more detail. Tall, with deep blue skin, and burgundy red shiny eyes, despite being older than Thrawn he is dignified and haughty, clearly still having long decades before him as Chiss live longer than humans according to your Grand Admiral. His clothes are expensive with very intricate embroideries and multiple layers of pricey fabrics, the prominent red color seems specific to this family. Braided long hair in a sophisticated fashion, makeup enhancing the sharp Chiss features, now you know why Thrawn had the habit of underlining his eyes with red eyeliner… A single intricate ring, probably a family heirloom, proof of his role as head of the family.

So this is the man...

The one you promised Thrawn to serve, for ‘the good of both species and future diplomatic relationships’ as he put it. You silently sigh. You are doing it for him. For the genius that he is and his mission… You had all the time to question your sanity and why you accepted.

But you know why…

Because Thrawn’s gaze was clear and assured, and this could only mean one thing

Victory.

Thrawn warned you this mission could take as long as a year, if not more… way more. But you accepted nonetheless…

Well at least this ‘Patriarch’ isn’t displeasing to look at, it is your only consolation considering his bad temper. He never once was impolite but made absolutely no effort to make you feel welcomed and comfortable.

As a soldier, you don’t mind. As a diplomatic agent, his lack of concern is a red flag for the mission.

“Why you?" He asks out of the blue, eyes lazily raising back to meet yours, or rather to make you lower your head.

You don’t. You look straight into his burning gaze, unflinching. Is he asking why Thrawn sent a woman? His contracting throat muscles indicate his real mood, the little patience he has, and his true desire to have you walk away from there.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn trusts me.”

That’s litteraly the only reason he gave you. You could tell he had another reason, but what Thrawn wants to keep hidden, will remain hidden.

The Patriarch raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"I already conducted several diplomatic missions, I am…was his go-to officer for them and speak several wild space languages, like the one we are using now. I was the most suited for the job."

He sneers, your answer far from satisfying him.

“I am afraid that isn’t sufficient to be worth my time."

“I know your secret.”

Again, he raises an eyebrow.

“And what secret do you think you know exactly?” He inquires with a sadistic smile stretching his lips.

"How you travel through space. Without any Navigation computers. This secret.”

His smile vanishes instantly, an incredulous expression flashing on his face before melting in a controlled, but very much real, anger.

“You are lying.” He modulated his voice carefully, the tone is almost sweet with a note of poison.

You very sternly shake your head.

“Grand Admiral Thrawn took care to teach me. He wanted to make sure you would not send me back, not with my knowledge.” You plainly state.

His expression closes back in a detached, cold, and aloof expression. You cannot read him anymore.

“You are bluffing. He is an indiscreet and a fool, but he would not betray the secrets of our navy like that.”

You sigh, reaching the end of your patience.

“You use little girls with very rare capacities.” You let him know without a shadow of a doubt.

He closes his eyes slowly, taking in the information that yes, Thrawn did actually spilled the secret to you.

“You realize I could very simply have you executed and get done with all of this?”

“I am under the protection of Admiral Ar’alani and Supreme Admiral Ba’kif.”

You hear a faint growl emanating from him. Whatever happened between them, the Patriarch and the Supreme Admiral aren’t on good terms.

You try to smile politely.

“Come on Patriarch, are the mighty Chiss so terrified of one woman? I am but a messenger from one of your compatriots, only wishing to do good for our two nations. Take it as the opportunity to build privileged ties and bounds with a future powerful neighbor. Your family would be on the forefront of the scene and the negotiations.”

“Do not teach me how to do my job.”

“Far from me that idea.” You temper, “I am merely pointing out the benefices you could get by listening to the Grand Admiral.”

“You spoke so highly of your dear Grand Admiral. Learn that he left us with a terrible reputation and was sentenced to be exiled for treason. We do not give credit to his words or any of his peace offerings.” Once again, he takes his scented handkerchief to his nose and deeply inhales it.

“I am aware. He also contests those accusations but counts on your common sense to see the bigger picture.”

“I think we are finished here.” He stands haughtily, “I will ask Admiral Ar’alani to conduct you back to your Empire and your dear Grand Admiral.”

“I am going nowhere, Patriarch. He bestowed me this mission and his trust and I intend to honor both.” You stop him firmly.

He contemplates you with lassitude.

“Why going so far for him?”

“I trust him.”

“That cannot be the only reason.”

“To you, it may not be sufficient. To me it is. I learned to know him and I saw the grandeur of Great men in him.”

“How touching. Someone will escort you to the do-”

“I invoke the Protocol 39 of Chiss laws for diplomats.” You cut him.

This time you thought his head would really explode.

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

Thurfian lets the fresh water roll on his skin.

He is absolutely fuming.

Where did you learn about that stupid protocol 39?! That damn law should get repealed urgently! A law offering asylum to alien diplomats who know about that particular protocol has no place in their books. It is a useless remnant of a past era of the Chiss Ascendancy when they were weaker.

But you knew about this protocol and invoked it out loud, and now he has to offer you protection...

He sighs.

Of course...

Ba’kif told you. It is the only possibility.

Whatever Thrawn planned, Ar’alani and Ba’kif are in leagues with him, leaving him all the mess to deal with.

What in tarnation Thrawn had in mind? Revealing one of the most dire secrets of the Ascendancy to a human? That Vento one wasn’t enough, he had to send another lost puppy to the Chiss. But this time he sent it to Thurfian.

He almost wants to laugh thinking back at that ‘peace treaty’ as you called it. Gibberish, unenforceable, naive. Thrawn learned absolutely nothing about politics during this decade. His true goal is so apparent and frankly Thurfian feels like he spat in his face.

Who does he think he is? And who does he think you are to even think this could work?

Him? Mitth’urf’ianico? Mating with an alien? Thrawn lost the last remnants of his foolish mind.

How would that even work? You humans have no mates, what did he hope would happen?

He gulps, his throat dry.

His own body hoped for something...

To his horror.

His dignity revulses at that thought, but his body awakened quite... brutally at the proximity of a compatible individual.

A young

Unmatched and single

Potential compatible individual.

He hates to admit it, but you are the prime example of a perfect Mate. A shame you are an alien, that spoils everything.

But his body, again, disagrees with his morals.

It only sees a potential, fruitful, and willing potential mate, ripe and ready for the harvest. His own body betrays him, desperate to get to know you better and pushing things to their climax.

It his demanding you, craving you, your scent, your voice, your touch...

It has been almost 6 months.

6 months of pure torture for him. Of his body feeling the presence of an available mate and entering fight mode to deter any potential rivals. 6 long, long months he tried to put the most distance between you two, keeping you as far away as possible, hoping it would ease his urges and cravings, only for his organisms to demand you harder, resorting to pain to force him to get closer.

6 months of him being hunted by lustful, disgusting dreams of you two together, waking him in a cold sweat, hard and shameful.

And you had to keep harassing him! In the name of your Warriordamn devotion to Thrawn you kept testing him every day. He has to hand it to you, you are dedicated.

He sees himself in you, back in his youth when he pursued lovers, the relentless chase, and the thrill of the hunt. But you have no idea of the true reason why Thrawn sent you here, to him. Would you have been a Chiss, he would have reveled in your insistence.

He tried everything to make you leave of your own will, to the subtle passive-aggressive ways to downright discrimination and hate. Anything to keep you far away. But you took it all, unflinching, dignified, keeping your head high in front of everything the Chiss threw at you.

He lowkey respects your attitude. He understands better what Thrawn saw in you and how you earned his respect and friendship. Not everyone would have held on before such treatments, he has met plenty of Chiss that would have chickened out long ago.

But you didn’t.

You remained, with your insufferable smugness and attitude, as infuriatingly spruce as ever.

And now he really has no ideas left to escape you and the temptation that you are for him.

He dreamed so much of dropping to his knees before you, kissing your hand reverently if you promised to be his and his alone, to devote yourself to him like you do with Thrawn, if you let him do what it pleased him to you...

He woke up horrified each time.

What other reaction was he supposed to have in front of such dreams?

Give in? Not a chance.

He remembers how he tried to push you out of his office the first day, your delicious smell was so overpowering he honestly thought he would pass out from his awakening urges. The last time he felt so... Alive was decades ago. He had to inhale his perfume handkerchief to limit the vertigos and baseless pulsions he felt pushing in his veins. He slammed the door once you exited his office, taking support on the wall to not fall to the ground with how he was trembling. He needed a long, icy cold shower after that.

You are no Chiss! How could you have such an effect on him?!

Did Thrawn knew?

Did he deduce that it was possible? Oh he really thinks he did Thurfian a favor, that he will be indebted to him.

But he just sent him a tormentor.

When Thrawn comes back

He comes back...

He will find Thurfian in the forefront of his detractors, ready to guide him to the pillory. He will find the exact opposite of what he tried to create.

Did he really think he would be able to come back untouched just because he sent him an alien to fuck? Thurfian remembers Thrawn having difficulties with relationships and socialisation but this is a real new low...

And to think he expects him to lower himself to you?! Him, the Patriarch of the Grand Mitth? Does he think he is desperate to find a mate? That he will accept anyone thrown his way? Even an alien?

He knew Thrawn had weird views but this one is an insult plain and simple.

He exits the shower to go down and eat breakfast with his family. Another long day ahead of him. Another load of pain waiting for him. He needs to get rid of you...

He needs to find a way. Any way.

He passes the large arches and his senses are immediately assaulted by your... obsessive scent. He swiftly takes support on the wall to not fall before the sheer power of your presence.

He REALLY needs to get rid of you, murder is still an option. It can still happen.

You are speaking with a member of the Mitth about something he does not care about. His first instance is to leave and climb back up in his suite, but that would be an admission of weakness on his part. That would be admitting you do have an effect on him, and he doesn’t intend on revealing that.

He already has enough problems like that. If Thrawn and his socially impaired character were able to deduce that you are compatible with him, then that means everyone in the Mitth Manor picked it up by now. He needs not to be a genius to know they all speak behind his back. And that’s also why he forbade you from leaving the Manor despite him trying to avoid you. He will not let the rest of the Ascendancy know one of his possible mates is a human.

Leaving the room right now would give them prove them right.

And that is not happening.

He takes his seat and takes out his questis to read today’s meeting and missions, ignoring you blatantly. He almost manages to focus and forget about everyone’s presence when he hears you laugh.

Cristallyne and melodious.

Delectable to hear.

So pleasing to his ears...

He deeply inhales to take back the upper hand but cannot help a guilty side glance in your direction.

You are radiant, smiling with a gleaming shine. You smile at another male, giving him your attention.

And that...

Infuriates him!

He mentally shakes his head, he needs to stop being so foolish but he cannot help the rising ire in his veins.

You are speaking an accentuated Cheuhn now. You made very great progress, proof of your brilliant intellect and willingness to serve him. And that accent is just soooo... Exotic and musical, just so pleasant to listen to.

He wants to listen to it for hours, he wan-

He chastises himself. He wants none of that. He is not jealous of that man. He does not dream about you every night.

This is not him.

This is his baseless urges and instincts speaking. Not his personhood.

He is way better than that. Way above that.

Way above you...

He would rather remain ‘the Mateless’ than associate with you. And prove Thrawn’s point.

This trial is far from over...

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

You silently walk in the corridors of the Manor. You don’t want to get spotted, Patriarch Thurfian would be heavily displeased if one of his guests spotted you. You just want to grab a snack anyway, you will not take long.

You listen to the music emanating behind the closed doors of the ballroom of the Mitth Manor, a very large party is taking place. You received explicit interdiction to appear, not that you wanted it anyway. You can hear the lively discussions and waves of laughter, this is a lively party. You reach the kitchens and start picking up in the dishes destined for the banquets.

A bit of this, a bit of that... You grab a fruit and head towards your room.

As you walk past one of the doors opens, letting you have a glance at the party. You have a sneaky look, only to cross gaze with Thurfian inside, looking straight back at you, frowning, ordering you to get the fuck out of here pronto. You scurry away, not wanting to get him on his nerves.

You’re not especially in the correct attire to be seen by all those guests. You are in your nightdress, ready to go to bed after your little snack, and you will really look out of place among those high-standard guests for sure.

You sigh, after a whole year here, Thrawn didn’t show up as promised. You knew it could take longer than what he told you, but you are almost a prisoner here, forbidden from leaving the manor altogether, your weapons and uniforms confiscated. They limited your contacts with Ar’alani and Ba’kif to a minimum. You had to fight tooth and nail to just have the right to own a questis.

Thurfian cannot bear to see you. He forbade you from approaching him entirely, but in every room you enter he seems to follow, only to look at you with disdain and horror and leave without a single word. You don’t know what his problem is but if he could have banished you to the other side of the Ascendancy, he would have done it.

Thank the Maker Admiral Ar’alani explained Thrawn’s plan to Supreme Admiral Ba’kif and he gave you that nice little trick with the protocols. Or it would have been a nice little trick if you could have accomplished your mission given by Thrawn, but in those conditions it is impossible.

‘Sorry my friend, I failed you for the first time’ you think bitterly.

“I told you they hide an alien!” A male voice raises behind your back.

You stop and spin on your feet to meet the disturbance of your peace. You met a group of four tall Chiss, looking at you up and down. Something in their demeanor displeases you immensely.

“And quite a looker! Look at that skin color, it looks so soft!.”

A fifth man appears behind your back, blocking the only other exit of the area.

“Where are you going like that, little one? You will need an escort, a lot of bad people roam around that kind of party.” One of them speaks casually as they all circle you.

“I thank you for your concern, good sirs. No need to bother with me, I am going away immediately.” You inform calmly, discreetly looking for an opening.

The situation is not yet dramatic, but with five men against you, you will be in severe difficulty.

“Mmmmh listen to that accent, it is absolutely lovely. Can you sing well too?” The one behind walked so close that he could grab a strand of your hair to wrap it around his finger.

You immediately slap his hand away.

“Careful man. She is feisty.” One snigger.

“I love them feisty.” He responds licking his lips, “Tell me girly, are you the pet of the house?”

“I am no one’s pet.” You growl.

The next one approaching will receive your fist in his teeth.

“A hottie like you, hidden away from the rest of the world like a secret... Someone wishes to keep you all for themself.”

You fight the desire to sigh loudly to their face.

“You are imagining things. Slow down the wine and let me pass, I need to sleep.”

“You can sleep with us if you want. We have the whole night ahead of us.” One of them grabs your hand and attempts to pull you away towards a darker room.

You throw your fist in his face, feeling something broke under your knuckles and hearing a growl of pain. The man is projected against the wall violently, under his comrades round eyes.

“You BITCH! Seize her!” He growls, his hand pressed on his bleeding nose.

They suddenly jump on you, grabbing your arms and clothes to tear them apart. You bite, claw, punch, and kick them back, giving them a hell of a hard time. But it is clear very soon that you will not win against five pissed-off opponents, not without a blade. And slowly fear settles in.

No one will hear you.

No one will save you.

No one wi-

A gunshot blasts in the air, stopping the commotion entirely.

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

He just had a bad feeling.

When he first smelled tea leaves, liquor, and honey he just felt ire in his veins, what the fuck were you doing around here? When he caught a glimpse of you between the two cracked open doors in your nightdress he felt his stomach tie itself in knots and his heart pumping faster.

He shot you with his gaze to make you get out! Away from him you devious temptress!

But when he saw this group of men leaving the ballroom right after you, he felt the ground opening under him.

He knows very well this kind of gaze they had. How many times him and his friends had to fight off creeps like them to protect their girlfriends back in the day? A lot. Too much.

Way too much.

He could not fight off the cold sweat rolling in the back of his neck when they walked past him with that deranged smile.

His hand unconsciously slid inside his inner tunic, feeling the cross of his personal Charric solidly attached in its straps. His head told him to stay in the ballroom, that aliens’ problems weren’t his.

But his heart told him that he couldn’t let such a horrifying act happen to any woman he knew, not under his own roof, not even to a pain in the neck sent by Thrawn, alien or not. His own morals couldn’t tolerate it!

And his instinct screamed at him to protect you specifically, his organism growing territorial and protective over you. You seem very well trained, and a part of him knows you are deadly with a weapon.

But he confiscated each and everyone of your weapons and sealed them away.

He even confiscated what you called a comlink. You will have no means to call for help. No one will hear your screams.

He put you in this situation!

And as that thought strikes his brain he realizes that he is furtively following the group of young men, his charric in hand. He doesn't see or hear them. He only has to follow your delicious scent..

He reaches a door and hears a moan of pain. A woman’s voice.

Your voice.

He sees red, all rational thoughts leaving his head. He kicks the door open and shoot a random mirror, dangerous glass shards exploding across the room.

They all stop.

You’re on the ground, nightdress torn apart, face bloody, limbs pinned to the ground with one of the creeps lying on top of you.

Your abusers turn toward him, their ears still ringing from the loud sound.

“Get off her.” He orders coldly.

“Patriarch Thurfian, what are yo-” Thurfian doesn’t let him finish and fires at the foot of the one speaking up, making him scream a pitiful wail of pain.

“Get.Off.Her. Or I shoot you down like dogs.” Thufian very calmly, very slowly, but very menacingly repeats.

He is dead serious he realizes. He has no idea who they are, they very well might be sons of important syndics or magnates, but he knows that if they don’t obey he will shoot them dead without any second thoughts about any of the consequences.

His gaze falls on you. You are in terrible shape and visibly terrified. His heart bleeds at such a sight...

He treated you terribly for an entire year to push you to the door and you took it with grace and determination, unsinkable. He never thought he would see such an expression on your face ever.

This fear in your human eyes is absolutely odious. He wants to get rid of it immediately.

Your attackers let you go reluctantly while the fifth is crying on the floor, holding his wounded foot. The one laying his disgusting body on top of you groans as he gets up, displeased that his fun is now ruined.

Do those types of men know no decency? No sympathy? No respect?

“Protecting your candy, heh?” The one on top of you chuckles, looking at him.

“What?” Thurfian snarls, heading the canon of his charric towards the chest of the impertinent.

“I smelled it on her.” He licks his teeth. Absolutely revolting, “What would the other Patriarchs say if they knew about her, I wonder?”

And suddenly, Thurfian’s anger subsides. His boiling blood turns into icy cold water in his veins and his mind gets clearer. His trembling hand shaking with fury steadies perfectly and he simply presses the trigger. The revolting man gets thrown back, hit in the chest. His friends jump and shout in surprise, incredulous that he dared fire his fellow Chiss over an alien.

Thurfian takes his comm out to ring his bodyguards as they look at their unconscious friend lying on the ground in a pathetic position.

In an instant, Chiss in uniforms enter the little salon, handcuff your attackers, and call an ambulance for the trash that got shot. Thurfian walks to the table. During the commotion you crawled in a corner of the room to put as much distance as possible between you and your assaulters.

You are trembling, knees pressed against your chest, your human skin soiled by your blood, almost naked in the cold room. He gets on one knee and detaches his Patriarch coat to pass it around your shoulder.

You shudder as his hand inadvertently brushes your shoulder. Look at you, terrified and lost.

And that is his fault. Only his fault.

Without a single word, he seizes your body and lifts you up bridal style. You yelp in surprise, looking at him with questions in your... gorgeous eyes. He carries you out of that room, without a single word for Thivick that just arrived.

Your scent reaches Thurfian nose again, and for the first time since you arrived in his manor, he indulges. He deeply inhales those delicate and harmonious notes.

His heart jumps in his chest as he feels you pressing yourself against him, huddling your wounded body against his, laying your head on his shoulder.

He should feel indignant. Revolted. Absolutely revulsed!

But the proximity feels comforting, it feels right. Like it was meant to be all along.

Did the Warrior himself placed you on his way? Did he remained mateless all of this time because he was waiting for you?

He doesn’t know. And frankly, he doesn’t care. Having you in his arms feels like the only good thing that happened to him in a long, long time.

He has a lot of explaining to do. But first, dressing your wounds.

He enters the infirmary and lays you in one of the beds. The medic stands up to start the treatment but Thurfian simply pulls the curtain, isolating both of you from the rest of the world. He washes his hands and washes your face delicately with a wet cloth.

You wince in pain, you received several blows that tore the skin apart in several places, and bruises of a variety of colors are already flourishing on your human skin.

“I am terribly sorry, (Y/n).” He simply says.

What else can he say after such an aggression? What words could comfort a victim?

“They will be brought on trial. They would not go unpunished.” He assures you.

You sniff with disdain, not believing his promise for a second.

“You all say that each time that it happens, but nothing gets done.”

“You have my word. With the testimony of a Patriarch, they will not be able to escape justice.” He tries.

You huff again, pushing his hand away.

“Why would you even do that? You made it very clear I was not welcomed anywhere in the Chiss Ascendancy, especially in your presence. Why shoot one of you for a ‘mere human’?”

He can feel the pain in your voice, how it twitches your features, how you gulp with difficulties.

‘Because I am physically incapable of seeing you suffer.’ are the first words popping into his mind and he almost says them out loud before biting his tongue.

But this is the truth. The fear he felt when he saw you in danger, the urge to tear those men’s eyes out of their sockets for just breathing weirdly in your direction, the absolute desperation when he saw your eyes widen in horror and fear.

He had to fight his attraction and desires towards you the entire year for him to shoot a man down at your first trouble. He hid behind the pretension that it was only his instinct getting desperate to not find a proper mate that they were desperate to settle with anyone, even a lowly alien.

But seeing you in this state makes him feel so guilty. He could have made your stay pleasant, welcomed you properly, and shown you the wonders of Chiss culture. But he locked you inside the Manor and limited your contacts with the outside world out of fear.

That they would know that you were made for him.

He could have made it easy for everyone and even facilitated future diplomatic relationships with humans like you proposed when you arrived.

But no. He had to act like a child and now look at the results...

“Because it is my job to protect guests under the Mitth roof.” He answers, muzzling the truth. “I will make sure it will not happen again.”

“I do not believe you.”

“I shot a man for you tonight.”

You turn your head away from his red gaze. He feels the urge to dive in the crook of your neck and kiss it, his body wants to hug you close and make sure you are safe.

But maybe...

This isn’t just his body speaking.

Maybe it is simply him too...

He wants to kiss your lips and swallow your pain and fear for you to only know peace and serenity in his arms.

He won’t, obviously. You are in shock, now is not the time for romantic advances.

“You could have just sent me back to Thrawn... You did not want me here anyway, why not allow me to go back to him?” You ask, fighting back sobs.

Now that things are settling down your body needs to evacuate the tension and stress of the aggression.

So you start crying.

Stabbing his heart deep.

‘Because I couldn’t let you go...’ He thinks with a sigh, realizing it as the thought crosses his mind.

He disinfects and dresses your wounds in silence, letting you cry to your heart’s content before sitting down and taking your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“Things will change from now on. I will give you back your weapons and uniforms, I will let you explore Csilla as you wish, and I will arrange a rendezvous with Ba’kif and Ar’alani. If you wish to go back to Thrawn, I will set you free...”

His hearts bleed at those words because he knows he wants the exact opposite as he is proposing it to you.

“But if you wish to remain and finish your mission, I would appreciate sharing a cup of tea with you, one day at your convenience. I want to know you better...”

And a little more he hopes.

Maybe one day you’ll forgive him.

Maybe one day you will hold his hands and call him yours.

He will wait, as long as it takes...

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

#thurfian x reader #thurfian #mitth'urf'ianico #thrawn #thrawn ascendancy #fanfic #vibratingskull

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coolbeesbro · 6 months

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Sinners and Fallen Saints Update!

I was originally planning to have chapter 6 uploaded by last night, but it ended up being much longer than I expected (almost at 5000 words right now) and I'm only about 1/2-2/3 of the way through! I'm hoping to have it done and posted some time this week though! Until then, here's a small excerpt!

Chapter Title: Old Man Yaoi? Niffty No.

Consciousness came to Lucifer slowly; curled up in a space that wasn’t his large and luxurious bed, head resting at an uncomfortable angle on something stiff and solid. Slowley, he blinked his eyes open and let out a large, sleepy yawn.

This wasn’t his room, and this wasn’t a bed he was sleeping on. The King of Hell let out a miserable groan as he shifted in the armchair he didn’t remember falling asleep in; his fingers gripping a plush red throw blanket as he pulled it further around himself and curled up tighter, face now buried against the back of the chair. It didn’t matter that this was the most uncomfortable place he’d probably ever slept in, he just wanted 5 more minutes.

Somewhere through the few hours he’d been asleep in Alastor’s strange sitting room, he’d managed to get tangled in his robe; which in turn bunched up his pajama shirt around his chest and armpits. Between the 3 layers of fabric, his body was warm and uncomfortably clammy. Every part of this situation was not ideal; leaving Lucifer to wonder what he was doing with his life.

Bits and pieces of his conversation with Alastor last night were coming to him; and muddled with the delirium of exhaustion and the vague memory of the dream he had, he was questioning what was and wasn’t said.

Did Alastor tell him he was a vegetarian, and wanted to open up Hell’s first ever fully vegetarian Cat Cafe? There was this cookbook he pulled out of who knows where, full of vegetarian based recipes passed down from his grandfather to his father, then to him? A family tradition full of veggie frittatas and cranberry walnut pancakes?

Wait no, Alastor hated his dad, so the Cat Cafe was definitely a dream. Which was a bit of a relief because Lucifer didn’t want to debate the ethics of feeding cats a vegetarian diet.

Oh and also Alastor ate people, so that might have been his first que to the authenticity of the idea. Definitely nothing vegetarian about that.

Lucifer had to consciously stop himself from snickering at the thought that Alastor would be anything but a psychopath. The guy had a hotel resident fully bound to a chair last night for an interrogation. Even going so far as to play light jazz music for some sort of serial killer ambiance. But then again, Lucifer was also a participant of the incident, so what did that make him?

Damn.

The King of Hell cracked his eyes open once more, training them on the red cretonne upholstery his face was pressed up against. He used the knuckle of his pointer finger to trace over the dips and loops of the gold flowery pattern, the smooth embroidered design feeling ever so slightly different from the rest of the thick fabric. Doing anything and everything but getting up and going to his own room to get ready for the day.

His ears picked up the sound of a door opening from up above, followed by heeled shoes coming down steps, making Lucifer still his movements.

“Ok you’ve been out long enough.” Alastor chastised under his breath as he approached the chair the King of Hell was curled up on. The lights in the room flipped on, assaulting his tired eyes with bright warm orange light, “Come on, up up up.” Alastor commanded, clapping his hands loudly.

“Nooo…” Lucifer’s voice was muffled against the back of the seat.

“No whining like a child.” Alastor’s said as the radio on the bookshelf next to him turned on, and Katie Killjoy’s sarcastic voice began to prattle through the crackly speakers:

“—gas station caught fire due to the negligence of a dickhead smoking at the pump. Local crackhead, Morison Morris, says he was there just getting a .98$ coffee at the time of the event.”

“I guess you could say his morning was off to an explosive start!”

“Shut the fuck up Tom—”

Irritably, Lucifer peered over the armrest at the radio and grumbled, “Please stop.” And the radio did just that. Thank you Alastor for the fun new power he held.

“Oh and I bet you think you’re rather cheeky.” Alastor said in a mock-congratulatory tone, “But really, it's 7:30am and Charlie expects us down at 8am sharp for the start of today's activities.”

Lucifer let out a long, tired sigh, “Just 5 more minutes.” He complained, not really registering the words coming out of Alastor’s mouth.

“As flattered as I am that you seem to be so dedicated to staying in my room, you need to get up and go to your own to get ready.”

“Fine fine, I’m up.” He grumbled miserably as he righted himself, “When did I even fall asleep?”

“Some time around 4:13am, I believe. Mid sentence you passed out, I was very impressed.” Alastor went on as he watched Lucifer close his eyes and slouch back in the chair, the King of Hell frowning deeply. Alastor walked over to chair Lucifer was still seated miserably in and took the plush red throw blanket off him in one fell swoop, all but pulling Lucifer off the chair and stumbling on his feet, “You now have less than 25 minutes to get to your room, get dressed and be down in the lounge before Charlie starts the day off without you.” He stated as he folded up the blanket and set it on the other seat.

It finally registered in his brain how little time he actually had, Lucifer frantically searched for his slippers— “They’re by the door, now shoo.” Alastor grabbed the shorter man by the shoulders and pushed him in the right direction.

Lucifer jammed his feet into the slippers before swinging open the door to make his leave; and as he dead-sprinted down the hall, he didn’t notice their resident housekeeper by Alastor’s door inspecting the fresh new claw marks carved into the carpet. Niffty, however, noticed him running and completely disheveled in his nightwhere.

Her interest in the claw marks dragging back to Alastor’s door was now gone, and in its place grew gleeful speculation over what Lucifer was doing spending the night with Alastor. As her large red and yellow eye watched the King of Hell stumble over his slippers, almost face planting in the hallway before catching himself again and continuing his sprint, she let out a devious giggle before running back down the other way and crawling into an open air vent she’d scurried out of originally. Her quickest form of transportation.

#appleradio #radioapple #duckiedeer #lucifer morningstar #alastor #hazbin hotel #deer alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanart #my art

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gabessquishytum · 1 year

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for a different take on warprize dream, hob and dream who were both, until recently, princes of warring nations. hob's kingdom has just won the war but not before hob's father and older brothers were killed in battle, leaving hob to be crowned as king. which hob... was very much not expecting to ever happen! he had older brothers, he expected one of them would be crowned, and hob's well-liked in the kingdom but he's a solider, not a politician. he figured he'd be in charge of the king's army someday, probably, not that he'd be the king himself.

so hob's already got... a lot on his plate. he hasn't even been able to mourn his family between the peace treaty and the renegotiations of trade deals and the public appearances as everything else he's utterly unprepared for. and then he's presented dream. and hey, maybe they'd met before, before war broke out and when they were just princes far enough down the line of succession that neither of them ever really expected to be on the throne. except now hob's king and dream is, as hob learns, being kept prisoner as leverage -- dream will be taken care of, unless his country doesn't honour the peace treaty, in which case...

hob is horrified, frankly, but it's been done and turning dream back over to his own people would only broadcast a lack of unity in hob's court, and he can't afford to show weakness, not now. so he makes arrangements for dream to be set up in the chambers adjoining hob's, he makes it clear that dream probably shouldn't be allowed to wander the castle unsupervised but that he is allowed out of his rooms, he's allowed full access to the library in particular, and hob tries to get on with learning to rule a country and tries to ignore the fact that apparently he has a hostage now.

except dream is. not willing to be ignored. he'd been intrigued by hob when they'd met before, and while he hadn't been pleased about being dragged to the palace in chains, he'd decided quickly enough that he could accept this outcome. his rooms have very clearly been stocked with the expectation that he'll be something of a pleasure slave, which, again... hob's a handsome man, dream remembers thinking he seemed kind, dream can live with this. except hob doesn't come into his rooms and ravish him, doesn't have him summoned to the throne room, and dream is offended, thanks. how dare hob ignore him.

so dream takes to dressing in the gauzy silks his wardrobe is filled with, making good use of the makeup provided for him, and lounging around the throne room. dream's outfits get skimpier every day, he grows bolder in touching hob, but he starts to realize that hob is... maybe not ignoring him because he's somehow immune to dream's seductions. he's ignoring him because hob is so out of his depths that he might not have even noticed that dream's been trying to get hob to fuck him.

so, the next day, dream takes to kneeling obediently at hob's feet while he holds his audiences, and that evening dream is the one to open to door between their rooms. he finds hob still pouring over maps and paperwork and looking exhausted and frazzled and miserable. and dream immediately starts offering his opinions, based on everything he knows about the other local kingdoms and what he's heard in court since being given to hob. and hob looks so relieved to be helped that dream thinks he might actually cry.

(he does, later. when dream realizes that he'd taken entirely the wrong approach in seducing hob, when he realizes that hob doesn't want a pretty little toy, he wants a firm hand and someone to tell him he's doing a good job. dream fucks him over his desk that night, hob's dripping cock making a mess of the first draft of the treaty that dream helped him rewrite. they relocate to the bed for the second round, where hob sits in dream's lap, on dream's cock, and buries his face in dream's chest and sobs. he's been stressed and scared and lonely and maybe he shouldn't trust dream but he does and he finally feels like he might actually be able to do this.)

after that, they work out a system. dream acts for all the world like hob's own personal whore, looking like the prettiest little slut as he kneels at hob's feet or perches on his lap -- or, if the audience is right, whispers in hob's ear until hob does as instructed and fucks dream's mouth -- and he watches and he listens. and then, safely in hob's chambers, it's hob's turn to kneel, to let go and let dream take care of him until he doesn't feel quite as crushed under the weight of ruling and can comfortably discuss and plan. dream is hob's top advisor, hob likes to jokingly call him the power behind the throne (and has maybe taken to calling dream 'my king' when dream fucks him...), and dream wonders sometimes if they might be able to formalize their little hostage situation. a political marriage could serve some of the same purpose, after all.

-🐈‍⬛

Hnnng yes!! Let Hob be dommed by his pretty little warprize!! He didn't want to be king, he just wanted to have a good time and be a good soldier. He fucked around a lot and enjoyed being bossed around by his fellow commanders, particularly in bed. He thought that was going to be his life. Maybe he'd get married eventually, maybe not.

And now he's a king and it sucks and he's so so stressed. He goes to bed and cries nearly every night, and he doesn't get a lot of sleep. He feels trapped and he's got no outlet! And then there's Dream - who surely deserves better than what Hob can give him. He's dimly aware that Dream is trying to get closer to him but he just. Can't.

But somehow, somehow Dream figures it out! He reads Hob like a book and decides that someone needs to take this poor sweetheart of a king in hand. He clearly needs someone to fuck all the thoughts out of his pretty little head. He's such a good boy, so eager to please and spread his legs, the most obedient slut Dream has ever laid eyes on. He just wants to be Dream’s dumb bimbo whore, bless him. Of course Dream is only too happy to give him what he needs (and also help with the whole "ruling a country" thing. Hob is smart but he's never done any of this stuff before, and Dream is a nerd who knows all kinds of things about ratifying treaties and delegating tasks to ministers).

It's not really a surprise when the Royal wedding is announced. Dream gets his own throne (although he sometimes sits on Hob’s lap, for old times sake) and an official position on the royal council, and nothing really changes. Each night Dream comes to bed and finds his husband kneeling patiently, his brown eyes shining with anticipation.

And because I love a trans Hob headcanon... The only problem is the lack of a royal heir... until its suddenly announced that the king is pregnant! Everyone assumes that it means Dream, that he must be male presenting but with the right parts for carrying a baby. But nope, it's Hob, surprise! Everyone is confused because people have seen Dream sucking his dick? Haha, it was a strap-on all along!

Hob is honestly just relieved because he gets to have some time off from doing King Things. And Dream? Well, no one is quite sure how he went from hostage to father of the crown prince, but he's living his best life. He definitely came out on top - literally.

#🐈‍⬛ anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #trans hob #cw pregnancy

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digo3d · 2 months

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I am going to spit out some random ass headcanons cos it's been a minute and you have no choice but to watch (a long list as a treat)

T.C. definitely goes to the spa and gets a mani pedi and gets acrylic claw caps sometimes to make his claws look bigger cos that's a status symbol in alley cat culture and also because he likes the clicky clacky sounds (this is based off a dream I had)

T.C.'s ashcan is like Snoopy's doghouse where it's small on the outside but it's impossibly roomy on the inside he's got a whole king sized bed in there complete with a mini fridge, sink, and wardrobe

Benny was falsely accused of murder at one point and T.C. and Dibble had to tag team to convince everyone that Benny is as harmless as a teddy bear (because he is)

If you're aware of the theory of Cadwallader being Benny's brother and since Benny's Ma is Benjamin B. Ball Senior I'm saying that Benny's father is Cadwallader Ball Senior

Chooch's kidneys really like to beef with him so the last time he went to the vet they sent him home with a prescription for urinary kibble that he has to eat at least once a day. Spook made a little kibble bowl for him and Fancy painted it as sort of an inside joke but Chooch eats his kibble out of that bowl religiously

Related to the last one, the gang keeps score of Chooch vs. His Kidneys. His kidneys are winning currently (this is based of my Sims game of the lads and also because Siamese cats are more prone to kidney problems also he looks like he has kidney problems)

Spook can breakdance like a fucking boss and tbh this should be canon he will fuck you up in a dance battle and he will do it with ease

Spook has %100 slept for at least two days straight and when he woke up he was the most confused man alive for a solid 15 minutes. The gang kinda thought he was dead tbh

If you dare put ANYTHING near Spook's face his first instinct is always to bite. ALWAYS. This includes food, sticks, hands, etc. Dibble nearly lost a finger once by pointing at him accusingly after having caught him for vandalism

Spook is a graffiti artist and usually paints on buildings where he knows the owner is a dickhead to piss them off. A few store owners have actually offered him money to paint murals on their stores

Addon to that last one, Chooch paints as well. He's more of a canvas guy but has also been offered money to paint murals, although his are a lot more intricate and time consuming than Spook's

I like to imagine that Fancy is actually a huge fucking dork when he's not being a suave playboy, he especially dances like one (he does the sprinkler unironically in The Movie) he actually loves country music, and he's just a little goofy in general

Fancy's always fiending for chocolate despite him having a food sensitivity to it. He's also a huge foodie and has a hard time holding himself back when presented with good quality food. When he was younger he had to really think about it to contain himself but he's gained a lot more self-control since then

He's also one of those people that gets hangry so usually when he's moody one of the gang will ask him if he's had anything to eat and the answer is usually no because Fancy's usually well-tempered unless someone insults the gang, his grandmother, or himself

Fancy has absolutely opened a can of whoop-ass on a few people for mocking Brain's mental disabilities and he'd gladly do it again at the drop of a hat

Brain absolutely loves learning even if it takes him longer to do so. He loves doing little science experiments and T.C. has occasionally distracted him with books about various scientific topics like outer space, biology, geology, and chemistry. He's actually better at reading than the rest of the gang contrary to what one would believe, but has to stop and process what he's read occasionally

Brain is very difficult to get genuinely angry. Most of the time you'd irk him at most and he'd just give you the silent treatment but he has snapped at T.C. a few times and really yelled at him for a few reasons, mostly for underestimating him

God forbid you ever get him mad enough to attack you, because then almost nothing can get him off. When he was younger he finally got fed up with his worst bully and mauled him so bad to the point of disfigurement. And he didn't even bite him then, if he bites you he's definitely taking a chunk of you with him as a souvenir (because of those canines I've talked about before)

Brain is a fiend for muffins, his favorite being almond poppyseed muffins. He gets so excited to eat them he sniffs them aggressively before running off to a secluded spot to eat them. He sniffed one so hard he got an almond slice up his nose one time and didn't even notice until he blew his nose later

Bagels too. Loves bagels. Sesame bagels are his favorite. Hates the cinnamon raisin ones though.

And here we're gunna have some HC specifically based around laughter

Spook and Fancy have THE LOUDEST laughs when they're together. Spook usually wheezes loudly for an extended period of time before absolutely SCREAMING and cackling like a dying seagull and Fancy has this very hearty belly laugh and he also snorts when he laughs, which only makes the both of them laugh louder. They have in fact been kicked out of restaurants for laughing way too loud.

Brain's definitely one of those people who usually doesn't laugh very loud but will absolutely HONK if he laughs loudly enough. He also giggles something similar to the Scooby laugh.

T.C. will either freeze when he laughs or he falls over. No in between. He does not laugh like a normal person. He giggles and chuckles just fine though

In addition to Chooch's goofy little 'muhuhuhuhuh' he does sort of an oddly maniacal 'MUAHAHAHAHA'. As you can see, all of his funny hahas start with an 'M' sound.

Benny sounds like squeaky toy when he laughs and he really puts his whole body into it so it also looks like he's being squeezed like a squeaky toy

Dibble sounds like a duck when he laughs. Y'know the WAUGHKAUGHKAUGHKAUGHKAUGHKAUGH

Anyways yeah I bet you all are sick of me well too bad go take some antibiotics and call me when you feel better 💃

#top cat #top cat 1961 #hoagy's alley #top cat headcanons #feel free to babble along with me 💃💃💃#gives you a cheeky little smile #i might be going crazy #it's fine though

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vestige-nan · 2 years

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My Wild Assumption of You Based on the ESO Boy You Crush On

Some of these make sense, some are just nonsensical but the vibe fits. If your boy didn’t make it on the list, I’ll make a part 2.

Darien: You like solid and safe classics, like true vanilla ice cream or black evening gowns.

Razum-Dar: Warrior Cats kid. Or you're a fan of the “there’s only one bed between you and your hot, infuriating bodyguard” trope. Either way, you used to read a lot, but you don’t much anymore.

Sai Sahan: You’re wild for the childhood friends to unrequited love to mutual pining to lovers trope. You also like the “one bed vs you and your bodyguard” trope, but you still read a lot.

Abnur Tharn: Sarcasm, wit, and merited arrogance goes a long way with you. You like to argue, and you don’t mind losing an argument.

King Kurog: No, you can’t fix him. Yes, we all wish we could. You probably saw those cartoons/shows as a kid where someone chains themselves to a tree to save the forest from becoming a parking lot or something and you decided you were going to do that specific thing. It hasn’t happened yet.

Chief Bazrag: You’re a people pleaser. The harder they are to please, the more satisfying when you win them over. You also want to be held, and honestly you deserve to be held.

Sotha Sil: You’re desperate to be the one person the unattainable and emotionally unavailable sad boy opens up to. You needed more attention growing up.

Vivec: You might’ve been a theater kid, but you were definitely involved in some wild theater kid scandal.

Divayth Fyr: You’re the same as the Tharn lovers, but you either played Morrowind first or you think mer are prettier than men (you’re right).

Ashur: Naryu was your type, but you weren’t attracted to women enough to crush on her. Or you’re crushing on both and hoping for two-for-one Morag Tong business deal.

Leythen: You like watching drama unfold like in telenovelas. You probably don’t start it, but you’re quick to grab the popcorn when you see it. You wanted to be privy of the Vivec lovers’ theater kid scandal, but you weren’t in the right crowd. You’re also a sucker for a good redemption arc.

Fennorian: You’re under 18 and you aren’t over Twilight.

Verandis Ravenwatch: You’re over 28 and you aren’t over Interview with a Vampire.

Rada al-Saran: You’re the best of the vampire lovers on this list. You're either the sweetest, softest flower angel or you’re so hardcore, you could eat glass and not break a sweat.

Mannimarco: You had a casual Harry Potter phase and wanted to date Draco Malfoy. Or his dad.

Vanus Galerion: You had a violent Harry Potter phase and read all the books and the extra books and saw all the movies and knew all the best fanfictions and knew all the lore and the magic system and you wanted to be a wizard so bad you look out your window every moment wishing waiting wanting for your letter you look at every owl with hope and every rat with skepticism-

Za’ji: Warrior Cats kid. Or you’re probably a huge Disney fan and have been to Disney Land/World more than once. Your favorite Disney movie is probably one of the 90s ones.

Nahfahlaar: Eragon kid. Or his voice reverberated in your soul <3. You probably like the “I hate everyone but you” trope. You also probably wanted to redeem Alduin, or at least join him.

Any of the Daedric Princes: You saw the red flags, but red is your favorite color.

Rigurt the Brash: To say you like himbos is a given, but I also think you’re the type to break too easily when someone gives you puppy-dog eyes.

#eso #teso #tes #the elder scrolls #the elder scrolls online

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sweetjekyll · 2 years

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The Lotus King and His Jade

pairing: Zhang Yixing x Reader (nicknamed Jade for... obvious reasons) genre: one-shot, drabble, fluff if you squint, historical I guess but not really?, ruthless king au but a good hubby warnings: kinda historical but its very loosely based off of LIT MV thus mentions of war, pregnancy, implied sexual content without being specific ya know word count: 1.2k kinda

A/N: heeey hiii I know it's been a while, I'm on sick leave from work and this has been in my head for a long time so I just decided to write it, it's not in the slightest anything extraordinary. this is kind of set up before the events of the music video, I was really going through it but I didn't have a whole lot of energy to write all of it as I wish I did. anyway, I hope you like it :)

⟶ To my dear readers: feedback is highly encouraged and important! as it gives me motivation to write with more passion, knowing that you like what you are reading. Please LIKE and REBLOG so more people can find this and read it. ❤ My askbox is always open for questions or to chat ❤

Enjoy! ❤

You remember the first time you saw him behind the red veil covering your face: terrified of the Lotus King whose horrifying stories you had only heard of from the people around you. His eyebrows were drawn in a subtle scowl, yet his face was too handsome and young for a man ruling all of the country under solid command. He was ruthless and never gave second chances, nobody dared question him for they would perish.

You knew better, most of the loyalty he was shown was out of fear, yet behind closed doors people would say bitter words and curse him. You knew and understood them, for his cruelty could always go too far when it came to imperial matters, but you also tried to understand him. Ruling a country with an iron clad fist was the only way to ensure the people’s safety from power hungry enemies. Deep inside he wasn’t the devil people made him to be; he was kind and thoughtful, he wrote poems, played music on the guqin and read books when he wasn’t attending formal meetings with his war generals. With him, there was always more than would meet anybody’s eye than yours.

The impassible face he wore for the public was unknown to you when you were in his arms, just the two of you in each other’s presence. Alone at night, the Lotus King would shed his black clothes and his duties to welcome the warmth of your body, relish in the peace and calm of your love with soft gasps escaping your lips, wet kisses trailing down your collarbone as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. Yixing was incredibly skilled at making you chant his name in the night, candlelit chambers until the flames burnt out.

There was nothing else he loved more than he loved you, not even the throne he sat on, although he would never admit to that. Your marriage was never meant to be anything more than a formal relationship; his righthand general had a daughter and Yixing needed to establish stronger ties and secure a future generation to the throne, if anything, you were a means to an end. Somewhere along the line of your relationship, he got charmed by your gentle nature. He showed you that you don’t have to be afraid of him as everybody else are, for he will never hurt you.

You stirred in your sleep under the bedsheet, eyelids fluttering open as your fought slumber to welcome the moonlight that poured into your chambers. It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up alone without the king lying beside you, he had his own room across from yours, yet when you sat up in bed, you were surprised to find him sat on his knees on the balcony, back facing you. The sliding doors to the terrace were wide open; the night sky was clear of any clouds, giving room to the moon and stars to shine bright. As you rose from the bed and silently touched the floor with the tips of your toes, goosebumps appeared on your skin. You wrapped the bare skin of your body with the silk sheets before making your way towards Yixing.

His eyes were closed as he was soaking in the moonlight, his chest was still exposed while his hanfu loosely hugged his body. He didn’t startle when you wrapped your arms around him, he heard the tail of the bedsheets softly dragging on the wooden floor towards him. If anybody were sent to assassinate the ruthless Lotus King, they would need to be more silent than that.

You kneeled behind him and placed your chin on top of his right shoulder, sighing with glee before placing a chaste kiss under his ear. “You’ll catch a cold,” you whispered as you tightened your embrace, thus pulling the sheets tighter around him.

His dark eyes found yours and the corners of his lips lifted in a playful mockery. “My Queen is wearing nothing but her bedsheets, shouldn’t I be more worried about you catching a cold?” Yixing skillfully turned his torso to fully face you and wrapped his arms around your waist, then pulled your naked frame flush against his chest. His playfulness was gone after a short moment, his expression looked serious and your heartbeat picked up pace as a chill ran down your spine. “Enemy troops are marching from the western borders, they’ll be here in a couple of weeks.”

You mouth fell agape and your body went limp in his arms, too stunned to utter any word of disbelief. You always knew it was bound to happen; many opposed the Lotus King’s rule and many more wanted control over his domains, like voracious and rabid dogs fighting for a bone. They knew they couldn’t face him alone, for many had tried and failed. You began shaking your head and blinking rapidly, unsure of what to say. “What do we- we need to retaliate-”

“No.” His dry answer made you shut your mouth immediately. He gave you a reassuring stroke on the back with the palm of his hand and kissed your chest, right where your heart should be. “I need you to leave Lotus Palace and take refuge with your maids and some guards in the Dragon’s temple up the mountains. The monks will keep you safe.”

“No!” It was your turn to protest, not as calm as he spoke, you sounded more agitated and rightfully so. The look on his face softened when he saw tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “I’m not leaving you. No-”

“My precious Jade,” Yixing called you by the nickname he lovingly gave. “You will be safe far away from-”

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out and this time around he was the one left speechless. You were shaking in his arms despite his best effort to keep you warm with his own body heat. You had known for a while that you were expecting your first child and were absolutely terrified of telling anybody at court, let alone your husband. You didn’t want his enemies to attempt and make him vulnerable by targeting you. You caressed his cheeks with the tips of your fingers before you cupped them gently and repeated yourself. “I’m pregnant, Yixing, and I feel the safer next to you.”

There was a whirlwind of emotions in his chest, he couldn’t pinpoint the strongest one, so he did what he does best and locked everything up to speak with a clearer mind. “I love you, but my word is final. You will go to the Dragon’s temple.” You couldn’t help but feel defeated so you just nodded in understanding. It was foolish of you to ask to stay, you would only burden him with your useless presence. He didn’t give you any more time to dwell on your thoughts as he kissed you softly to get your attention back on him. “In the midst of chaos you brought me so much joy. There’s no one more precious than you, and I will give my life to protect what I love. Do you understand that, Jade?”

“Yes,” you whispered then gave him a quick punch on the shoulder, which barely did anything to hurt him but he still feigned pain and laughed. “Don’t die, Lotus King, you need to be there when I give life to our child.”

“Yes, my Queen, anything that you wish for.”

#exo #exosnet #lay zhang #zhang yixing #Yixing x reader #lay x reader #exo x reader #historical au #exo smut #exo fluff #exonet #exo imagines #exo imagine #exo scenario #Yixing imagines #Yixing smut #Yixing scenarios #Yixing imagine #the lotus king

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hockeylvr59 · 3 months

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Here With Me Part 32 || Taylor Makar

Author’s Note: Taylor and Kelsey have an enjoyable morning before Tracy and Cale arrive at the lake and Cale being a drama-king leads to an evening dock talk for Taylor and Kelsey. FC: Marina Laswick (@marooshk on instagram).

A/N2: It's my birthday and though I've had no muse to write lately I've had this one banked so why not.

Warnings: smut, past emotional abuse // Word Count: 6,479

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Thirty One

The bedrooms in the lake house did not have room darkening curtains so Kelsey stirred as soon as the sun started rising above the horizon. Unlike when they had gone to sleep, only Kelsey was still on her side, her head on Taylor’s shoulder as he sprawled out on his back. Her arm was still draped across his body and her palm rested lightly over his abs. Unconsciously her brain sought out her favorite spot, even if there wasn’t going to be hair growth back quite yet, and instead was greeted by the tented fabric of his boxers.

A spark of curiosity filled her and she carefully lifted the covers to see that Taylor’s dick was indeed awake even if he was not. Letting the blankets fall, she slowly slid her hand back down, grazing her fingers against the soft skin of his stomach along his waistband. Slipping her fingers under the elastic, she continued to tease gently, gradually sliding further south.

Hearing a groan fall from Taylor’s lips, Kelsey paused her movements waiting to see if she would get any other reaction from her boyfriend. When she didn’t, her fingers continued their teasing movements, grazing against the growing stubble of Taylor’s pubic hair. Exploring a few inches further south caused her fingers to bump lightly against the base of his dick and Kelsey didn’t hesitate in wrapping her fingers around his length, jerking slowly.

He was so warm, solid, and heavy in her palm and Kelsey closed her eyes just focusing on the feel of him.

Suddenly, the shoulder that had been propped up by Taylor’s body hit the bed as her boyfriend rolled from being partially under her, to slumped over her, his dick now trapped between their bodies since her hand had released him with the shock of the movement. For a moment he didn’t move but then he raised his head, his mouth connecting with hers in a series of sloppy, lazy kisses. As they kissed, Taylor ground his hips down into her body, his dick rubbing against her where she wanted him most.

Needing more contact, Kelsey slipped her hands under Taylor’s boxers again, this time palming the firm ass all his hockey training had given him. She hadn’t intended any of this when she had aimlessly started touching him, however, she couldn’t deny the way her underwear was becoming soaked with arousal, feeling him between her hips and kissing her with full tongue.

With her whole body tingling, Kelsey needed more and twisted her hands to try and push the boxers from Taylor’s body unsuccessfully. Frustrated, Kelsey whined into Taylor’s mouth, wordlessly expressing her need for him. Pulling back just a breath, Taylor spoke against her lips.

“Should I get a condom?”

“Please.” Kelsey agreed, needing him inside her.

Kissing her for another thirty seconds or so, Taylor pressed up off of her and slipped out from under the covers. As he moved toward his bag, he slipped the boxers from his hips, letting them pool on the floor at his feet. Revealed fully to her eyes, Kelsey admired every inch of him as he bent over to dig through his bag. She had to be the luckiest girl on the planet.

That sentiment only grew as he turned to face her showing off exactly what she was about to get.

“Want you.” Kelsey murmured, shifting up onto her knees to face him as he stood at the side of the bed. Though they shared a few need filled kisses, Kelsey realized that she was missing the additional intimacy of skin to skin contact and reached down, quickly pulling her sleep shirt off over her head. Now when she kissed him, her breasts pressed against his bare chest making everything feel just that much better.

After tossing the condom packet and a bottle of lube further onto the bed, Taylor's hands slipped to the back of Kelsey’s thighs. In the blink of an eye, he had lifted her to wrap her legs around his waist and had carefully laid her back on the bed. That quick flash of speed was replaced by the languid pace he’d been moving at all morning and he kissed her again, occasionally leaving her lips to tease his way across her upper body.

Seemingly getting his fill of just kissing, Taylor slipped his hands down to Kelsey’s waist to carefully pull her underwear from her body, removing the last item of clothing separating them. Then he reached for the condom he’d tossed onto the bed, tearing the wrapper and sheathing himself in the latex before applying a generous amount of lube. All of that situated, he settled himself back between Kelsey’s thighs.

“All good?” He questioned softly, his eyes warm as he looked at her.

“All good.” Kelsey echoed, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair as he pressed into her slowly. Absolutely nothing compared to the stretch of him inside her and a moan started to rise in her throat. It was then that her brain remembered where they were and how his parents could literally be two feet outside the door. Biting back the moan, Kelsey let out a shaky breath instead. They could do this but they had to be quiet. It was one thing for his parents to know they’d had sex, it was another for them to hear them in the midst of it.

Kissing him again to help silence herself, Kelsey focused on how it felt to be intimate with him.

Still maintaining the languid morning mood, Taylor moved slowly in his thrusts, movements that allowed Kelsey to feel every inch of him. It also kept things quieter, an added benefit but not really the intention.

Gradually, the coil in Kelsey’s stomach wound tighter as Taylor pressed into her over and over again. But as his movements started becoming less steady, Kelsey knew that this alone wasn’t going to push her over the edge even if she was enjoying it tremendously. Thankfully, Taylor seemed to make the same observation and so he adjusted himself slightly, shifting a hand to slide between their bodies and rub his thumb against her clit.

It may not have seemed like much but it sent sparks flying through her body and Kelsey gasped into his mouth. This was exactly what she needed. Now confident that she was going to get there right behind him, Kelsey tugged Taylor’s hair gently.

“You can cum Tay, I’m right behind you.” She murmured against his lips. Still stroking her clit, Taylor’s movements became more erratic and she felt his body draw taut above her before relaxing as he released into the condom after just a few more thrusts. As he came down from his high, Kelsey hit her own, spasming around him and whining softly in the back of her throat.

Panting as Taylor pulled out, Kelsey watched as he got up to dispose of the condom before returning to her side. Both knew they could only cuddle for a moment before Kelsey needed to get up to pee and clean up but she was going to bask in that moment and Taylor’s hug, his fingers trailing lightly over her back.

“Well that was unexpected.” Kelsey said lightly, a slight giggle in her voice.

“Unexpected for you?” Taylor joked. “Last I checked I’m the one that woke up to your hand around my dick.”

“It was right there.” Kelsey added, still playful. “What was I supposed to do?”

Rolling his eyes fondly, Taylor tickled her sides.

“Go pee Kels.” He instructed a minute later, stopping his teasing and kissing her lips softly.

Stealing a second kiss, Kelsey reluctantly got out of bed, reaching for clothes to throw on to get her to the bathroom in case his parents were in fact awake. Without a mirror in the room, Kelsey couldn’t tell how she looked but even if her hair was messy she at least had clothes on her body. Once Taylor at least had boxers back on, Kelsey opened the door to cross the living space toward the bathroom. She was immediately grateful she was decent because his parents were both present in the kitchen discussing what to make for breakfast.

“Good morning Kelsey.” Gary greeted.

“Morning.” She murmured, her cheeks flushing a bit unconsciously as she made her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

After peeing, Kelsey wiped herself clean of her bodily fluids and any lubricant that had been left behind. Then she combed her fingers through her hair trying to make it look a little less tangled and splashed some water on her face. Deciding that was as good as it was going to get until she officially got dressed for the day, Kelsey moved to step out of the bathroom only to bump into Taylor who was standing outside the door already dressed for his workout. His presence made her jump and she cursed under her breath causing him to laugh as he moved her forward so he could step into the bathroom behind her.

Crossing back to their room, Kelsey closed that door behind her as well and then lifted her suitcase up to find something to wear for the day. A quick check of her phone revealed that although today was going to be one of the warmer days, it was still going to be chilly, so she pulled out the single pair of pants she had brought and a t-shirt along with clean undergarments. She’d have to borrow one of the hoodies T had packed for her if she was going to spend any time outside today. And she’d definitely have to figure out how to make her wardrobe work given that she had not packed for the weather to be this chilly.

Dressing herself in at least the lighter layer, Kelsey ran a brush through her hair and put deodorant on, deciding she’d brush her teeth and do a light layer of makeup after having her coffee and breakfast.

Feeling more put together, Kelsey left the bedroom once more, making her way into the kitchen to make up a cup of coffee to actually get her brain working. With Taylor already standing making coffee, Kelsey moved over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

“When you’re done with yours can you get one started for me?” She questioned.

“This one is yours.” Taylor declared, his tone hinting at the unspoken ‘who do you think I am’.

“Tay. I can wait for a second one to be made, I’m not gonna take yours.” Kelsey murmured.

Turning slightly, Taylor glared at her softly, his look communicating for her to take the coffee because he had made it for her not himself.

“Okay, fine. Thank you.” Kelsey murmured. “I love you.”

Immediately Taylor’s facial expression softened and he pressed his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before sliding the mug of coffee over to her as his parents shared an unseen look.

Taking the mug, Kelsey stepped out from Taylor’s proximity to get the cream from the fridge and a little bit of sugar to make it more palatable before moving to the living room to get out of everyone’s way as breakfast was made. Honestly, she couldn’t have asked for a better start to the morning and she smiled to herself as she sipped at her coffee.

It didn’t take long before Kelsey was summoned to make herself a plate for breakfast and she loaded it up with eggs and bacon, thanking Laura and Gary for the food. Devouring everything on her plate and finishing her coffee, Kelsey got up to take care of her dishes. Seeing Taylor also finish as she moved to get the rest of the things she needed to get ready, Kelsey asked if he could grab one of the sweatshirts he’d packed for her before he left to go workout.

Said hoodie was laying on the bed by the time she finished and Kelsey put all her things away, grabbing the first of the two books she had packed. Though it might be too cool to sit out for long, Kelsey was going to try to get some fresh air and read while Taylor trained. Throwing the hoodie on, Kelsey smiled at how huge it was on her body, making her feel warm and safe. Then she padded out to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before making her way onto the porch with her book in hand.

Laura and Gary must have been getting themselves ready for the day because she hadn’t seen either of them but that didn’t matter much as she settled herself into one of the comfy chairs before cracking her book open to sit and read. It definitely was chilly out but it was manageable, especially curled into a ball with a book in her lap.

Losing herself in the words on the page, Kelsey barely noticed when Laura came out, settling into one of the other chairs with a book of her own. They read silently until voices came from the hill beside the house.

“Those two never can be quiet.” Laura murmured, raising an eyebrow at the sound.

“Of course not.” Kelsey added, shaking her head softly. It wasn’t exactly easy to block out the sounds of Gary and Taylor going back and forth with each other, but Kelsey did her best and focused on the words on the page in front of her. She only had to reread paragraphs a few times which overall was a success.

Eventually, Laura got up and moved back inside as it became clear that Taylor was wrapping up his training for the day. When her boyfriend appeared over her, he was dripping in sweat and had a smoothie in hand.

“Cozy Kels?” He questioned, adjusting his ball cap over his sweaty hair.

“Just chilling…” She shrugged. “Good workout?”

A simple nod of the head was his answer as he chugged more of the smoothie.

“Gonna shower but then I was thinking I’d take you out on the lake…”

“Sure T. I’m down but there’s no rush.”

Taylor paced around the porch for a minute while he finished his smoothie before he slipped back inside. Judging by how long it usually took Taylor to shower, Kelsey read for another ten minutes before marking her spot and closing her book. Then she headed inside herself to put her book away and grab shoes to go out on a boat with him.

Once all that was done, and just to be safe, she threw her phone in the waterproof floating pouch she had brought and sealed it shut before sliding it back into her pocket.

Taylor was out of the shower not long after that and after putting her shoes on Kelsey followed him downstairs and outside where they met up with his dad who was giving the boat a quick hose down before they took it out onto the water.

“How can we help?” Kelsey asked.

“Once T and I flip it to drain the water you can towel it down.” Gary directed, tossing the hose aside now that he was finished with it. Together the boys flipped it over to pour the water out and then flipped it back onto its bottom. Taking her cue, Kelsey grabbed the towel from the ground where Gary had put it and started to dry off the inside of the boat starting with the seats.

When she was finished, Gary and Taylor carried it down to the water, carefully setting it into the lake alongside the dock and tying it in place. While they hooked up the engine to it, Kelsey retrieved the life jackets from the storage shed where Gary had said they were located and carried them down to the dock.

With everything situated, Kelsey put her lifejacket on before climbing into the boat with Taylor’s help. Sitting down, she waited for him to climb in too, his lifejacket getting tossed under his seat, before he untied the boat from the dock and pushed off slightly before giving the engine a start.

It wasn’t a very powerful engine but it did the job of motoring them around the lake steadily. Out on the water, Kelsey could see the houses scattered around the shoreline but it was the view of the mountains in the distance that took her breath away. It really couldn’t get much prettier than this.

“Pretty huh?” Taylor mused, watching the expression on her face as he steered the boat slowly around the lake.

“Gorgeous Tay.” Kelsey agreed, just taking it all in. “You know…any trip I’ve ever taken basically anywhere was to a beach…” She reflected. “But I think you’re converting me into a mountain and lake girl instead. It’s so peaceful.”

A pleased grin crossed Taylor’s face and he slowed the boat to just drift through the water.

“You’ll like Colorado then.” He murmured.

Kelsey’s heart jumped and then fluttered in her chest hearing Taylor reference Colorado. Moreover, referencing her being in Colorado. Never before had he connected those two thoughts and it caught her slightly off guard. He’d talked about wanting forever with her but he’d never given that forever any context before and she couldn’t help the giddy grin that spilled onto her face.

“Yeah?” She questioned, wanting to hear what other thoughts he had on the topic.

“Yeah.” Taylor affirmed. “It’s a fun place to be. Great people, lots to explore. Plenty of beautiful places I can show you.”

“Sounds amazing.” Kelsey murmured honestly. After all, there was a reason she had applied to med school in Colorado in the first place. That reason just so happened to be sitting across from her praising the state he’d only been in a few dozen times. Admittedly, it was their shared smiles that said everything that they hadn’t in words and made her heart flutter once more.

Taking in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, Kelsey just let herself relax fully. She was here with the boy she loves with glimmers of their future together being presented to her. His parents had welcomed her with open arms quashing each fear she’d had one after another. Things were good.

As they continued drifting around the lake, Taylor told her stories of his memories on the lake itself, where the best fishing spots were, the antics and trouble they’d gotten up to over the years and it only made her smile more.

“Would you mind if I came and kept you company when you go out fishing?” Kelsey questioned.

“It’s kinda boring Kels…” Taylor mused. “But sure…if you want to.”

“I do.” Kelsey affirmed. It didn’t matter if she was just sitting and reading while he fished, it was time with him and Kelsey wanted to soak up as much of it as she could.

Conversation faded a bit and Kelsey just basked in the view. She really never had been anywhere like this before and it was stunning. If Colorado was anything like this she knew at least scenic wise she could be very comfortable there.

Boating around the lake for a little while longer, Taylor eventually started back toward the dock as lunchtime approached. Cutting the engine as they approached, Taylor drifted the boat alongside the dock with precision before hooking the tether around one of the dock’s poles to secure it in place. Then he climbed out, careful not to rock the boat too much before reaching a hand out to help Kelsey back onto dry land.

She wobbled slightly as she tried to regain her legs but quickly balanced herself, laughing softly at how she had gotten sea legs after just a short boat ride.

“You good?” Taylor questioned as he checked his work in securing the boat.

“Yep.” Kelsey murmured. “My equilibrium just needed a second there.”

Taking off her life jacket to leave with the boat, Kelsey slipped her hand into Taylor’s as they headed back up to the house.

“Thanks for that T.” She murmured, stepping sideways to bump into him gently and playfully.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Kels.” He replied, squeezing her hand, his voice soft.

Kicking their shoes off at the door, they climbed the stairs to the kitchen where his mom was already working on pulling things for sandwiches from the fridge.

“Good boat ride?” She asked, smiling at them.

“Yeah it was.” Kelsey agreed. “The lake is beautiful.” She leaned against the island as Taylor moved to the fridge, tossing her another bottle of water. “Anything I can help with?” She asked not wanting Laura to feel like she was ungrateful.

“No, just getting things out so you guys can make your own sandwiches.” Laura replied. “And I think that’s it so have at it.”

Both thanking Laura, Taylor moved to get food and Kelsey rounded the island following behind. Making herself a sandwich she added some chips onto her plate before taking it and her water out onto the back deck to sit and eat.

“Would it bother you if I did some homework after lunch?” Taylor asked softly while sitting across from her.

“What no of course not!” Kelsey exclaimed after swallowing. “Have you been putting off homework for me? Taylor…”

“I worked ahead, it’s fine. But I should probably do some soon.” He shrugged, his body language showing that he wasn’t at all stressed about it which helped Kelsey relax a little.

“Do your homework Tay, I’ll be fine.” Kelsey assured him. “I can read or see if your parents want to play some games or something.”

“We’d happily play some games with you Kelsey.” Gary declared walking through the backdoor with his own lunch.

“See I’ll be fine.” Kelsey assured Taylor, nudging his leg under the table.

Finishing her lunch, Kelsey moved back inside to dispose of her plate and maybe take another look at what games they had. In the kitchen, she saw Laura working to clean up, her food still sitting on its plate.

“I can clean up.” Kelsey declared as she tossed her plate into the trash.

“Thanks Kelsey.” Laura declared, picking up her plate to go sit and eat. Nodding, Kelsey moved to finish putting everything from lunch away. She really didn’t mind, after all they were feeding her and everything else for these two weeks. Once everything in the kitchen was dealt with, Kelsey resumed her quest to look through the cabinet of games again to try and figure out what she’d play with Taylor’s parents after they finished eating.

Ultimately, they settled on starting with another round of Catan without Taylor there to swoop in and beat them all. Then they walked her through a game of Ticket to Ride since Kelsey had never played it before. Thankfully, the concept was simple enough that Kelsey was able to pick it up easily and she enjoyed jockeying with Taylor’s parents for prime train routes. Finishing that game as well, they cleaned up and Kelsey thanked them for playing with her.

“I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit if you don’t mind.” Kelsey added, partly feeling tired from having gotten up really early and partly feeling some anxiety creep in at Cale and Tracy’s pending arrival.

“Of course we don’t mind.” Laura insisted and after refilling her water Kelsey headed into the bedroom she was sharing with Taylor, shutting the door behind her. Though she scrolled on her phone for a while, unsurprised by a lack of contact from her parents, eventually Kelsey closed her eyes and after tossing and turning for less time than she expected she fell asleep.

Waking with a start, Kelsey’s brain first processed the sound of activity in the kitchen. Groaning softly, she forced herself to sit up before checking her phone. 4:51 p.m. It had been nearly two hours since she’d come to lay down and she definitely hadn’t anticipated sleeping that long.

Through the door she could hear a mix of voices including two that were more unfamiliar than the rest. Cale and Tracy. Over all of them boomed Taylor’s as he seemingly chirped his brother for something that Kelsey couldn’t quite pick up.

Slipping out of bed, Kelsey fixed the covers before running a brush through her newly messy hair, attempting to not look like she had just spent over an hour sleeping. Then she made her way to the door, opening it quietly. With her eyes landing on Taylor standing and animatedly talking, she moved over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking herself into his side.

After a moment, Taylor squeezed her tight and dropped a kiss to her head.

“Oh hey Kelsey” Cale commented before Taylor fired back at his brother regarding whatever they had been talking about. Still tucked in his side, Kelsey nodded at Cale and tried to fight off the remnants of sleep while Taylor’s thumb stroked her side absentmindedly.

With her body more settled from the contact, Kelsey looked toward the kitchen where Tracy and Laura were getting things out to start on dinner. As Tracy turned from pulling something from the fridge her eyes met Kelsey’s and a smile spread across her face.

“Hi Kelsey.” She stated warmly. Putting down what she had in her hands, Tracy scurried across the kitchen toward Kelsey. Doing her best to mask her discomfort, Kelsey squeezed Taylor tight for a moment before releasing to accept Tracy’s hug. Hugging was something that Kelsey was only used to doing with people she was close to, yet she didn’t want to seem rude when Tracy was clearly trying to make her feel welcome. The excitement was just a little much.

After hugging her, Tracy turned to head back into the kitchen and taking a deep breath, Kelsey followed asking what she could do to help. Really she just wanted to have something to busy her hands before the anxiety sank too far into her mind. Cutting up vegetables for a salad would go a long way to keeping her mind busy and calm.

After a minute more of bickering, the boys headed outside with Gary to prep the grill and likely continue their antics. While they worked on readying the food, Laura and Tracy chatted talking about everything from what Cale and Tracy had been up to during the week to the weather.

“It’s going to be a cooler week that’s for sure.” Laura said, agreeing with Tracy’s prior statement.

“Great…I did not pack for that.” Kelsey mumbled, her quiet voice still audible from a few feet away.

“We have a washing machine.” Laura started.

“I packed extra.” Tracy chimed in, cutting Laura off. “You can borrow whatever you need. We’re probably about the same size.”

Half nodding, Kelsey mumbled a ‘thanks’ as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant for anyone to hear her.

Conversation dipped for a moment but as Tracy moved to grab something from one of the drawers next to Kelsey, she gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before returning to her task.

After that, Laura and Tracy resumed talking but Kelsey kind of just blocked it out, focusing on making the salad for dinner. She heard the door open as the food was taken to the grill but she just focused on her own breathing as she worked. The sounds of the rest of the things used for prep being cleaned and other things being taken outside followed, just barely registering in the back of Kelsey’s mind.

Once the salad was finished, Kelsey switched to cleaning up the scraps along with the knife and cutting board she’d used.

“Looks great Kelsey, thanks.” Laura declared, taking the salad bowl and salad spoon outside to the table.

“What do you want to drink Kelsey?” Tracy questioned while standing at the fridge.

“Water is fine.” Kelsey stated softly as she dried her hands, her items now clean.

With everything inside taken care of, they headed out onto the deck where Taylor was once again manning the grill while Gary supervised and Cale glowered. Kelsey followed behind waiting for Laura and Tracy to claim seats. Gary’s was also obvious based on where his drink was located. Quickly surveying the table, Kelsey slid into the seat across from Tracy waiting for the boys to finish cooking dinner.

Thankfully it didn’t take long before they were pulling the food off the grill onto platters and heading over to the table. Sliding in beside her, Taylor sat down and gently brushed his hand over her thigh before reaching for food as they all started to serve themselves.

Dinner passed by fairly smoothly, snippets of conversation proceeding though everyone was mostly occupied with the food on their plates. Even as plates were cleared, no one moved to get up, just sitting and relaxing instead as conversation picked up a bit more. As Taylor and Cale talked about their training in the morning, Gary piped in.

“Tomorrow is the first day for the Farmer’s Market.”

“You guys should go and show Kelsey.” Laura added quickly. “Pick up some things for the rest of the week.”

“We can definitely do that.” Tracy declared, smiling. Neither Cale nor Taylor seemed to care much one way or the other so apparently they were going to the farmer’s market though Kelsey had no real idea what that entailed. “Was thinking about taking Kels on a hike tomorrow since it should be nice ” Taylor added, glancing over at Kelsey. “Can do that after the farmer’s market and lunch though.”

“Wigwam Rim Trail or Sheep’s mountain?” Cale suggested, listing a few of what Kelsey assumed were local hikes.

“Silver Springs Lakes” Taylor declared having already decided where he wanted to go.

“You guys can come with us if you want.” Kelsey stated, speaking for the first time. While she would love a hike with just Taylor, she knew that the likelihood of that happening was small so she might as well be the one to put the invitation out there instead of being upset by the inevitable.

The smiles she received told Kelsey that it was the right call but it didn’t make her not wish for time alone with Taylor. Needing a moment, Kelsey pushed her chair back to stand and started to gather up dishes, deciding to take them inside to load the dishwasher. She could only handle about half on her own so she knew that someone would end up following but even ten seconds to herself was something.

Almost everyone ended up following her inside. Gary brought the remainder of the dishes while everyone else moved to ready the table inside for playing games as evening took hold making it harder to see outside.

“We’re playing crib right?” Cale questioned, though the tone was more of a statement.

“Nope.” Taylor said dryly. “We can play Uno, Apples to Apples, Catan, or Yahtzee.”

“Why not crib?” Cale grumbled, his face showing he was clearly not pleased at being told no. “I don’t want to play those games.”

“It’s fine. You guys can play cribbage.” Kelsey said, trying to defuse the situation. “I wanted to go watch the sunset over the lake anyway.”

Finishing loading the dishwasher with all the items from dinner, Kelsey moved around the island sending Taylor a smile as she descended down the stairs to get her shoes and head down to the dock.

After sliding her shoes on, Kelsey stepped outside, closing the door behind her. Immediately a deep breath spilled from her as the cool air enveloped her along with the simple noises of nature. The quiet was a welcome contrast to the noise that surrounded Taylor’s family. She loved Taylor so much but she had to admit she was struggling to adapt to the chaos.

Making her way down to the dock, Kelsey picked a spot and sat down, leaning back on her palms as her legs stretched out before her. Breathing slowly, Kelsey just took in the view of the trees and mountains in the evening light. There were a few boats on the water but it was still peaceful and Kelsey attempted to let her stress bleed out of her body as she enjoyed this moment alone.

It was crazy how she had only been here a day and already this dock was where she felt most comfortable. There was just something about it that she couldn’t put into words.

Kelsey was unsure how long she’d been sitting there when she heard the sound of one of the doors of the house opening. Not bothering to look up, Kelsey just continued enjoying her quiet time. After a minute or so she felt someone approach before moving to sit down beside her. Again, Kelsey didn’t need to look to know that it was Taylor and she shifted a bit closer to him.

“Who won?” She asked softly as to not break the overall peacefulness of the moment.

“Mom and me.” Taylor replied just as quietly. “How’s everything down here?”

“Beautiful.” Kelsey murmured. “I think this is my favorite spot.” After pausing a moment, Kelsey continued. “But if you’re asking how I’m feeling, I’m fine T…just didn’t want to cause a conflict.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Taylor mumbled. “Because you promised to tell me if you aren’t and it seems like you have a lot on your mind.”

Sighing softly, Kelsey glanced over at her boyfriend.

“I promise I’m okay.” She assured him reaching over to brush her fingers over his thigh. “But yeah, just stuff I’m dealing with.”

Taylor’s expression shifted to look even more concerned and Kelsey bit her lip.

“Like I was just getting used to your parents and now there’s two more personalities in the picture…two more extremely intense personalities…and it’s just a bit overwhelming.” She explained. “Tracy is sweet…she’s just a bit much. And your brother…well it doesn't seem like he really wants to get to know me or that he doesn’t like me or something…I don’t know.”

Breathing, Kelsey squeezed Taylor’s thigh again to reassure him.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, it's just…it’s a lot and Cale was getting upset so I figured it would be better for me to give everyone some space and come breathe.”

Pausing again, Kelsey glanced out at the lake and mountains in front of them as the sun sank further in the sky.

“Your family loves you so much Tay…” She started. “Just…I’m an only child. An only child who has never been loved like your family loves you. I mean….your mom hugged you last night…I don’t think mine has ever hugged me like that even when I was little. And she’s pissed at me for being here, neither her nor my dad have even tried to check to make sure I’m still alive.”

Sighing softly Kelsey finished her rambling.

“So yeah it’s just…I’m overwhelmed but I’m okay Taylor. I’m so glad I get to be here with you and get to know the people that love you, it’s just sometimes a lot for me.”

Having just dropped a lot on him, Kelsey stopped to let it all sink in. After a moment, Taylor’s arm draped over her shoulders and she leaned against his side.

“I can see if I can get Tracy to chill out a little.” Taylor murmured. “I know she came on a little strong but she is genuinely excited to get to know you.” Nodding, Kelsey tipped her head back to kiss Taylor’s jaw.

“Cale is…he’s just protective. It’s not that he doesn’t like you or want to get to know you, he just…” Taylor paused, letting out a deep breath of his own.

“My highschool girlfriend was emotionally abusive.” Taylor admitted. “She would question why I even bothered with hockey because I wasn’t good enough to make it. She would find a way to be unhappy about every single thing I did and blame me for her unhappiness. Our entire relationship was based around her needs…I…mine didn’t matter.”

“Cale saw it all and just…you’re the first person I’ve been with seriously since then and he’s just concerned about me even if you’re nothing like her. It’s nothing you’ve done and he’ll come around.”

With Taylor seemingly finished, Kelsey twisted to kneel beside him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Thank you for telling me.” She whispered, a fierce sense of love rushing through her as he hugged her back just as tightly.

“I’m in a pretty good spot with all of it now.” Taylor assured her. “Just...that’s why my family is the way it is when it comes to you. Cale most of all.”

Pulling back just enough, Kelsey kissed him gently, trying to pour her love for him into the kiss.

When she stopped she teased at the hairs on the back of his neck gently.

“For the record. You are good enough. You make me so fucking happy and I just want to make you as happy as you make me so I need you to speak up if there’s something you need that I’m not doing.”

“I know.” Taylor replied, his nose dipping into her neck for a moment as small tremors rolled through his body.

For a while they stayed just like that, but eventually Taylor nudged her softly.

“You’re going to miss the sunset you came down for if you stay like this.” He teased.

Kissing him softly once more, Kelsey settled back onto her butt, her knees stinging slightly from kneeling on the hard wood of the dock for so long. They didn’t bother her for long though as she took in the orange sky as it turned to pinks, blues, and purples.

“It’s so beautiful.” Kelsey murmured, voice in awe. “I feel like I could watch this every night and still be awestruck.”

“Why don’t we?” Taylor suggested causing Kelsey to turn her head, expression mildly confused.

“I mean I guess we could.” Kelsey replied though she felt like she was missing something.

“I mean why don’t we come down for a few minutes every day, be it sunrise, sunset, or to look at the stars. We can touch base with each other about the day and just talk.” Taylor elaborated.

It clicked that Taylor was offering her a daily escape from the chaos of his family. Those precious moments with just the two of them.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.” Kelsey agreed, the remaining tension in her body melting away.

With the sun finally sinking below the horizon, Kelsey tipped her head back to kiss Taylor once more.

“I love you Tay.”

“And I love you.” He echoed as they exchanged soft short kisses. Soon they would have to go back up to the house and rejoin the chaos but this time on the dock…that was theirs.

#taylor makar #taylor makar imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #taylor makar nws #nws #lemon #nhl smut #hockey smut #cavalanche #046

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witchofhimring · 5 months

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Cassandra Baratheon profile

This is both a character study and my personal headcanons for the character. This is part one of the "Daughters of Borros Baratheon" series. This template will be used in all my upcoming fics unless otherwise specified. I find it hard to write characters who do not have a cemented personality so I decided to make some up.

Space divider provided by:@firefly-graphics

Backround and theories:

Cassandra Baratheon's personality is not clear through the texts of Fire and Blood. Anything regarding her is also highly suspect given that the sources are highly suspect at best and women are rarely treated fairly texts-wise. This means that most of Cassandra's personality will be based on headcanon's with little source.

The first we hear of Cassandra is when Aemond arrives at Storms End. While in the show the Baratheon sisters are represented as adults the text implies they are much younger. Borros Baratheon says that Cassandra as the eldest will be the first to flower. This means that Cassandra has yet to flower and is still quite young. On average most girls get their period at 12 (although this is far from universal), meaning Cassandra is likely younger than 12 (which makes Aemond's kissing of the Baratheon sisters far more disgusting). This makes her actions in Fire and Blood all the more suspect as while the text treats her as an adult Cassandra is very young.

Cassandra is depicted as sneaking and conniving is Fire and Blood. While the story itself is suspect we might get a glimpse of Cassandra's personality. The next time we see Cassandra is in The Short, Sad Reign of Aegon 2nd. When Aegon gets back to Kings Landing he is betrothed to Cassandra putting her in line to be queen. Next in The Hour of the Wolf, it is claimed that Cassandra wept tears of sadness at not being queen. Whether this is true or not is suspect as even the author uses the words "it is said". So we will not know, however I do not doubt that she was likely disappointed at not being queen. In The Hooded Hand Prince Aegon is crowned king and Cassandra goes to Kings Landing with her younger sisters Ellyn and Floris. In War and Peace and Cattle Shows Jaehaera dies, supposedly by suicide. However rumors of murder came about and Cassandra was one of those accused. The writer refers to those who have accused Cassandra of murder as "detractors". So Cassandra murdering Jaehaera, while possible, holds no solid evidence. Personally I do not think she did. Despite Cassandra being cleared the narrative of "jealous vindictive Cassandra" is still being perpetrated in Fire and Blood. Lord Peake is important to our view of Cassandra as he is involved in her tale. Lord Peake attempts to put his daughter forward as queen but is unsuccessful. In order to clear the way he conspires to knock several other girls out of the competition, Cassandra included. Cassandra wrote "well prepared to serve as queen". This letter is likely true and shows Cassandra wanted the crown. The Maidens Ball is put on so Aegon might chose a wife. Peake, not done with plotting, spreads rumors about Cassandra and other maidens. Casandra's story ends shortly, but not before a very unfortunate event takes place. The new Hand of the King Lord Manderly carries out an investigation on those who may have killed Gaemon (illegitimate son of Aegon 2nd) and treason against the king. Three women in attendance to the queen are presented, Cassandra included. After the death of Jaehaera Cassandra becomes a companion to the new queen. After Queen Daenaera is poisoned, Cassandra is brought to trial.

It should be mentioned that Cassandra is only accused. However Fire and Blood does not provide conclusive evidence that Cassandra was involved. As far as we know Cassandra shared a bed with Ser Mervyn Flowers. Yet this alone is not conclusive evidence in my opinion. At the end of that sequence it is written "Though unquestionably part of the conspiracy". This part caught my attention because the evidence presented in the book is far from conclusive.

The character of Cassandra Baratheon is complex. While I have no doubt she harbored some resentment towards Jaehaera and later Daenaera, much of the accounts are suspect. For example, some of the "facts" about Cassandra as more rumor. And the trial of Cassandra is deeply unsatisfying. This presents us with a characters that once had it all, the Baratheon heiress, future princess (possibly if Aemond had chosen her) and future Queen. All was lost.

Relationships: (headcanons)

Borros

Father and daughter are close. She was his first child, Borros's pride and joy. In Fire and Blood Cassandra is referred to as "Cass". This short form drew my attention because this was a formal setting and nick names are less common. Personally I think this shows Borros harbouring a soft spot for his eldest. As a baby he would carry her around in one arm. He placed a lot of trust in her, Cassandra helped draft letters and writing them. Cassandra liked to read to her father when he was unwell. The only time they really spend with eachother is tea and sewing.

Elenda

In my mind Elenda does not get on with her daughters. Resentful of only having girls, Elenda distances herself from them. In Fire and Blood the scant information about Elenda presents a practical and tough woman. Cassandra and her mother are not very close, although their relationship is not as bad as the one between Elenda and Marris. Elenda treats Cassandra more as a ward than daughter. Not unkindly (purposely), but with little closeness.

Marris

Not overly close but they do not have a bad relationship. They are very different people and so hardly are around each other. There is a bit of jealousy from Marris's side but Cassandra is unaware of it. Out of all her sister Marris is probably the only sister Cassandra somewhat gets along with.

Ellyn

These two do not like each other. Ellyn, bitter over being ignored, starts to hate Cassandra and Cassandra begins to dislike her. They fight a lot and hardly get along. Cassandra found joy in upstaging her sister and being "better" than her. This rivalry would continue until Cassandra was married off.

Floris

A distant, terse relationship. Cassandra is jealous because Floris became their fathers favourite. At first Borros was disappointed to have another girl. But Floris found her way into his heart and became the favourite. This causes Cassandra to become jealous and ignores Floris. Cassandra chose to try and outshine Floris but it did not work.

Personality: (headcanons)

-Cassandra is a very prideful and slightly arrogant person. This is not done intentionally but it is very much present. Growing up as possible heir to Storms End gave Cassandra a sense of self importance. She had ideas of greatness and wanted the world to know.

-Cassandra is also ambitious. Allowed to take on a more masculine education Cassandra perused knowledge. She in fact is advanced enough to forge several maester's chains. Cassandra likes to read and will sometimes hide away to enjoy a book (or two).

-Cassandra does not like to ride horses. They scare her.

-Loves lemon cakes and the colour yellow/gold.

-Is a very kind friend to those she cares about. Cassandra has a group of loyal friends who followed her through everything. Even when she got married off they still supported her. She is a ride or die girly.

-Cassandra can be easily jealous and petty. Is not good at tempering her emotions (she's a Baratheon).

This is all for now. Next will be Marris.

#cassandra baratheon #house baratheon #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #dance of the dragons #hotd #got #hotd headcanon #the four storms

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cathchicken · 1 year

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Ok yay another round of first impressions!!! Again, spoilers for Fionna and cake below the cut! (Episodes 5 and 6)

Episode one:

- I became more invested in this episode the further it went, I ended up liking it a lot!

- farmworld society is real neat. I like how ice Finn became some demonic figure to everyone

- FINN GKT KIDS

- I liked the character if the main Finn kid (forget his name already damnnn)

- the forbidden romance was funny, but they left that universe so quickly, I want to know what happens!!

- Simon curses

- what thr hell is up with the pink goop

- Farm Finn mentions his wife is dead (CMONNN). Not sure exactly who she could be, but I’m guessing farm huntress wizard, based off of a few of the kids designs. Specifically the one with ginger hair and green eyes. The soup thing is interesting too

- OH MY GOD THE OLD JAKE IS SO ADORABLE GRAHHHHHH

- and I love that Cake actually likes him like aughhhhh

- (this is hurting my soul)

- most important note: THERE WAS A CHICKEN FOR A SPLIT SECOND I WIN AUTOMATICALLY

Overall solid episode!

Episode two:

- yeah I know what’s gonna happen. Tumblr prepare yourself

- wait I forgot about the yaoi subplot haha

- anyways time to see photos of half naked Marshall everywhere for a week now too

- ok real meat: winter king. He’s a lot more cunty than I thought. The song and animation was gorgeous!!

- why did they draw his crotch like that. WHAT cmon I can’t be the only one. It’s so… well defined. Anyways

- the whimsical gunters were perfect. Especially the fairy

- the ice Marcy??? What??

- FUCKING. CAKE. SAYING WINTER KING AND SIMON SHOULD MAKE OUT AT THR END KF THE SONG. like damnnnn she is freaky. That would have been quite something though

- oh god. Wait, is this gonna be the oncest thingy now..? Fandom wise… cake you’ve doomed us all!!

- ahem

- oh yeah bubbaline! (Garylee..?) it was a very cute montage!! And I like Gary’s candy kingdom esque idea for his bakery.

- MORE LEMONFEMS (Lemoncarb?? I don’t know how to spell it)

- idk about you guys but I like them. Well, I don’t like how they did Gary. But still. Very good

- ok back to fionna

- yes!! Candy… queen! (The name to no one’s surprise haha) she pretty much was exactly what I expected. I love her

- her song was also great!!

- unfortunately I guess her existence is short lived lol

- won’t stop me… with the power of fanart!

- I like the scene where she rolls off the bed

- yeah at this point I was sort of suspicious of winter guy

- lobotomy… thr best remedy…

- the way winter king just lets Fionna embrace him right in front of actual Simon is fucking crazy haha. I’m sure cake was loving it

- THE HE

- WHAT THR HELL

- well, the team handles trauma together….

- interesting, this universes pb is like, exactly the same haha.

- oh yeah, Fionna ain’t straight at all. You saw how she reacted when pb caressed her

- oh yeah final winter king impressions: I hate him

- also the fact he acknowledged Betty died and couldn’t give a shit. Fuck him forever

- csnt lie I’m a little sad it’s not a direct swap universe like my little theory. But ofc that’s not a problem at all, just me predicting stuff wrong

- not letting that go tho. Passionpeachy I won’t fail you. Doomed yuri is always the answer

Ok that’s pretty much it!!! Overall I really enjoyed these episodes, and I’m gonna have a good time seeing everyone else react to them :3 but now I get some sleep. I got school tomorrow

#fionna and cake spoilers #fionna and cake #at #adventure time #text

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velidewrites · 1 year

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To get back what the Cauldron has taken from her, Elain Archeron makes a deal with Prythian’s most dangerous enemy.

Now, a servant of a cruel Death God, Elain must make sure her efforts are not discovered—especially not by someone tied to her darkening heart by a golden thread.

Someone like her mate.

Notes: My humble offering for @elucienweekofficial. This fic is a post-ACOSF story — and very close to my heart as it’s based on the very first one-shot I’ve ever written.

Tags: Post-ACOSF, Canon Compliant, NSFW

Read on AO3 || Chapter 1 || Masterlist

Chapter 4 - Fill Me With Your Poison

He came to her in a dream.

Every night, she would go to bed empty and wake up unchanged—would wake up to find out none of this had been some vile, cruel nightmare. It was simply…real.

The War had wrecked the last of it—her old life. For weeks after the Darkness, Elain wasted and wasted away—the visions consumed her, each one worse than the other. They pulled her back into the murky waters or burned her hands under a scorching fire; they cuffed her wrists in heavy chains or set her free, dirty and naked as she fell to the cold ground. She hurt, deeply and thoroughly, but the only lifeline that had ever appeared was that shimmering, golden thread as it offered to lead her into the light.

Elain had not once reached for it. Her hand felt heavy every time she’d lifted it, unable to reach the only thing that could ever save her. Something weighed on it, solid and cold—an iron ring wrapped around her finger, a reminder that she had lost and it was only fair that she’d lost herself too.

There was no going back. Rhysand had told her this gently shortly after they’d arrived, her nightgown still wet and clinging to her trembling body. To her limbs, longer and somehow more lithe now than they’d ever been. Even broken, she could feel the strength thrumming within her muscles, compelling her to move the mountains and shake the earth. To use it to fight, to set every last one of her instincts on alert, to get Feyre back and avenge everyone that had ever hurt Elain and her family.

Elain had never been a warrior. It’s what Feyre had become, though only after seeing her rampage in front of the King, Elain had realised that perhaps a warrior was what her sister had always been. Elain did not want to rage, did not want to avenge—she wanted to go home and live the life she’d been meant to live.

But that home hadn’t welcomed her back.

I am not marrying you, it had said. I will take whatever people occupy your lands. But not you. Never you.

With Father gone, and her fiancé despising what she’d become, Elain was left with no one—no link back to the life she wanted, only the visions showing her the life she would have. A bird soaring in the sky, its cries of pain carried through the wind. A lake, deep within the forest, dozens of swans floating atop it, all covered in the stench of rotten earth. A box, built from a hardened onyx, resting beneath the murky waters, singing an ancient, eerie song.

It was when she saw the box that he found her. He inhaled the fresh, salty scent of the tears she’d stained the pillow with night after night as though they were the sweetest nectar, a smile slowly curling the corners of his lips. He stood by her bed, but Elain knew he wasn’t there, not truly—her gaze was clouded by a fog, thick and oozing that dark, mouldy scent. Like he’d just stepped out of a lake.

Elain was not afraid—he was only a vision, after all—though she paled at the sight of him. He looked like a man—like a male, she reminded herself bitterly—but there was no denying the creature that must’ve lurked beneath his handsome face. He was handsome—his earth-black hair curling at the nape of his neck, a singular, silver streak swept back from his face. Sharp, high cheekbones and a thin mouth, as though perpetually tightened to keep his secrets inside where they belonged; pale skin, like a swan’s coat, and, finally, the most hypnotising of his features: his eyes, narrowed silently on her, shining a rich, mossy green.

She waited for him to speak—waited for his voice to dim into the fog, they way all voices had in her visions: always trying to tell her something, yet never patient enough to truly let her hear. But the male stood by her bed watching her curiously, head tilted an inch to the left as though he could not quite figure out how, exactly, he should look at her.

Elain sat up, pressing two fingers to her stinging cheeks, still raw from the salt she’d cried out before sleep enveloped her at last. “Who are you,” she whispered, the words not quite a question—as if, deep down, Elain already knew the answer.

His smile grew.

“Tell me your name,” she said louder, though her body shrank into itself as she realised that, vision or not, this male could probably kill her if he only pleased.

But then he stepped back into the fog, his figure melting back into the dark mist, leaving only that scent and the silky sound of his voice as he told her, “All in good time, my sweet.” The room sounded with laughter. “All in good time.”

After he’d left, Elain slept peacefully through the rest of the night.

The nightmares returned all too soon, though, Graysen’s face tormenting her ruthlessly as he repeated the words over and over in her head. I don’t want you. Not you. Never you.

He would not take her as she was—as the lie she’d become.

Gray, she sobbed back to him as she slept, it’s still me. This life, this body—I want you. It’s always been you.

Take that ring off, he said, not hearing her at all.

Elain refused him every time.

The rotten male returned when she was taken. They’d put her in chains, just as her visions had warned her but she never understood, too lost in the fog. The ice-cold metal—iron, she’d realised, an irony that nearly brought her to tears—burned her skin, leaving it raw and stinging as if she’d been put under the Cauldron’s lethal waters again. She kneeled, waiting for something—anything—to help her. And he listened.

“Look at you,” he murmured, as though the sight of her captured brought him pain. He dropped to one knee in front of her, a phantom knuckle brushing her cheek. Elain shivered. “Who dared?”

Elain rasped, “You know who.”

He hummed, her answer apparently what he’d been hoping for. “The wind may call you the Cauldron’s blessed, but earth whispers of your torment, Elain Archeron.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

He smiled sadly. “And I hear every word.”

Elain looked deep into his green eyes. “What do you want from me?” she asked, because there had to have been something. He’d sought her out for a reason, or perhaps her vision had invited him in—but, Elain realised as he calmly returned her stare, his reasons hardly mattered. He was here, when everyone else was not. She was no longer alone.

The male said, “I only wish to give your heart what it longs for.”

“I have no heart,” Elain whispered. “Not anymore.”

He chuckled, as if the horrible words amused him. “You think you died, Elain, but if there is one thing in this world I know, it is Death. And, I can assure you, it has not found you yet.”

Elain felt it, then—that thing thrumming under his skin, the creature she knew she’d Seen before but had never truly reached. It sang the same melody the onyx box had—old and yet familiar, something she knew she would greet one day at the very end.

A low purr sounded in his chest, as if he’d heard the snapping sound of her realisation in his own head. “Say it.”

“You are a Death God,” Elain breathed, a term she’d heard from her sister once but hoped she would never have to hear again.

He looked delighted. “My name is Koschei, and I am Deathless. I come not from this world, Elain, but all the worlds beyond it, and their powers flows through my veins.” He smoothed a hand over her wrist, the heavy chain around it suddenly light at his touch. “I can help you.”

Elain swallowed. “I am beyond help.”

“Perhaps to your High Fae friends. Or even your captivating sister,” he mused, briefly gazing off to the distance, as if all his plans laid there waiting. Then, Koschei looked at her again. “But not to me.”

Elain froze, the very air in her lungs hardening into ice.

The Death God smiled. “I can give you what you wish for, Elain,” he said. “I can give you everything.”

“How,” she managed to choke out.

His palm covered her own, and Elain’s chest fell with a breath, the touch resembling burying her hands into soil. There was a time when Elain had gardened—even in their time of struggle, in the most vicious poverty, she would find ways to plant seeds of hope in the small square of land by the cottage. But then Elain had drowned, the earth too damaged, too ruined to ever invite hope inside it again.

But now, Elain had this. Him.

Perhaps she could garden again.

“I’m going to need your help, little Seer,” Koschei murmured, his mossy eyes still fixed on the iron cuff on her wrist. “And when your destiny is fulfilled, I shall offer you all that the Cauldron has so brutally taken. I shall offer all that you deserve.”

Elain sucked in a breath.

Koschei met her gaze. “I shall give you your humanity back.”

He rose to his feet, that fog thickening around him again. “Wait!” Elain called after him, desperation building in her chest. “What must I do?”

He only smiled. “I will see you soon, Elain Archeron.” He looked over his shoulder, a flicker of disdain flashing through his features before he looked at her again. “Fear not, my sweet. Help is coming.”

When her sister stormed in with the shadowsinger, Elain realised Koschei was right.

Help was coming, she thought, looking at her wrist, free from its chains long before the two of them arrived.

And then, Elain could finally live.

———

Feyre studied the map, dread continuing to build in her chest. Her finger grazed the small mark pinned to the northern territory indicating Windhaven, the war camp well-hidden between the mountains, never to be spotted by the untrained eye. The tattoos atop her skin swirled at the touch, as though they, too, could somehow sense the unease building underneath the perpetually frozen ground.

Nesta had just winnowed away, her usually guarded expression replaced by the same emotion Feyre couldn’t seem to shake. Cassian remained, his tall, broad frame leaned over the parchment as he looked up to meet her gaze. “Rhys?”

“He’ll agree,” Feyre said without a shadow of a doubt. “It’s not Rhys that’s the issue.”

Cassian grunted his agreement. “Will he be back by nightfall?” The Illyrian Steppes laid on the other end of their court—as far away from Velaris as possible, perhaps—but it wasn’t distance that posed the problem for her mate, but the warlords, seemingly as intent on a civil war as their counterparts in the mountains.

Feyre opened her mouth when she felt it.

The bond gleamed in her chest like starlight, twinkling softly as the sky began to darken. The scent of citrus and sea salt infused the evening air, and Feyre took in a deep, deep breath.

He was home.

“I hope you didn’t miss me too much,” Rhys said, entering the study, though the smile he flashed them both did not meet his eyes. Feyre reached out to squeeze his hand, and Rhys pulled her in to his body, pressing a warm kiss to her temple.

She placed a hand on his cheek. Are you okay?

Rhys brushed his fingers through her hair, watching as it fell down her back in soft waves. I am now.

Cassian offered them a strained smile. “Bad?”

“Bad,” Rhys agreed, stepping forward to examine the map himself. “But the good news is, they will not make the first move—unless Devlon provokes them, I suppose.”

The Night Court’s General frowned. “How did you manage that?”

Rhys only smiled, his thumb brushing the back of Feyre’s palm. “I wish I was able to do more.” Her chest hurt as he looked at her, violet eyes dim. “What did Nesta say?”

Cassian huffed a laugh. “She wants to go fight the warlords themselves.”

Rhys chuckled.

“I told her,” Feyre started, “to send Azriel instead.”

Her mate let out a long, long breath. “I see.”

“You don’t agree?” Feyre asked, more curious than anything else.

“Oh, I do,” Rhys said. “But it’s not my agreement you should be worried about.”

As if unable to help himself, Cassian chuckled. “You and Feyre seem to be of one mind.”

Rhys smiled at that, some of the usual light returning to his gaze. “That we are.”

Feyre turned to Cassian. “I think we should also send Gwyn.”

A glimmer of surprise passed down the bond. “Oh?”

Feyre explained, “She’s a Carynthian, is she not? And a Valkyrie.” Rhys nodded, something like understanding beginning to appear on his face. “I can’t possibly imagine a better fit.”

“I would agree,” Cassian said, his voice tight, “But Devlon despises her—and so do the rest of the warlords.” His eyes seemed to darken at that. “I don’t know if sending Gwyn could do us any good at this time.”

Feyre shrugged. “Perhaps she’ll see it fit to dispose of the problem, then. Good riddance.”

“Indeed,” Rhys said, his laughter shimmering down the bond. Feyre smiled.

“I will speak to her, then,” Cassian declared. “But if she doesn’t agree, Azriel will have to go alone.”

Feyre hummed. “Something tells me that she will. And if she does, I have no doubt Azriel will, too.”

Cassian snickered. “You have no idea how right you are,” he said, then looked out to the garden, already veiled in shadows from the falling night. “I’ll see you both tomorrow—unless…” he hesitated. “Unless there’s anything else?”

Rhys clapped his shoulder. “Go home, brother. We can worry about everything else later.”

Cassian nodded—and with that, he was gone, the sound of his wings cutting through the air echoing into the room.

Rhys stayed quiet until it faded. “Bed?”

Feyre sighed, a sudden wave of tiredness washing over her at the question. “Please.”

They walked upstairs hand in hand, Feyre silently inviting him into her mind, letting her mind drift as her mate watched her memory of the meeting. She could feel how tense he was from the way his back stiffened, powerful muscles shifting under a simple, black jacket. The one thing the Illyrian warlords had in common, it seemed, was the apparent distaste for unnecessary pomp.

What do you think? she asked him when he was done.

His chest heaved with a breath. I think I’d like to lay in bed with you and not think about it for a while.

Thank the Mother.

Rhys chuckled. After you, High Lady.

The night had not yet even fallen, but sleep threatened to swallow her whole as soon as Feyre’s back hit the soft blankets of their bed. How was your day? Rhys asked, lying down next to her, and she shifted to accommodate his large wings. Other than the civil war looming over our heads? she asked. It was fine. Although… she sighed, letting her eyes close for a moment. I worry about Elain.

Oh?

Finding a Dread Trove is no easy task, Feyre argued. And I know Nesta had managed it, but…I don’t know. She had training.

There are other ways to gain strength, my love, he said with an emotion that made her chest full. She rolled over to her side, finding Rhys already facing her, his eyes gleaming slightly as their gazes locked.

I know. After a while, she added, I’m glad she’ll have Lucien with her.

I’m not sure if either of them would agree.

Feyre huffed. Probably not. But this is more progress than any of them have made in over two years. Elain hasn’t even left the Night Court save for the human lands during the War. And Lucien…I feel like he’s everywhere, and yet somehow never where he’s supposed to be.

Rhys considered her words with a low hum that seemed to take root in her very bones. Playing matchmaker again, Feyre darling?

She traced a finger over his wing, making him shudder at the contact. Maybe.

He took her hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles. Don’t worry about Elain. I’m sure the Day Court will hold the answers we all need—and perhaps some of the answers she herself is looking for. He closed his eyes, as though sleep had begun to slowly tug at him, too. And when the Trove is found, we’ll be ready.

Do you really think the Trove will help us kill Koschei?

Gwyn said the ancient Seers used it to find answers in the future. I can’t imagine anything more helpful to us right now.

He was right—if Elain had somehow managed to find the Bone, there was a chance for this war to be prevented entirely. Stopping Beron would be one thing, but a Death God—not even Prythian united as one could stop Koschei with their weapons alone. There had to be something—anything—and perhaps the future held the answers.

She was so lost in thought she hadn’t noticed Rhys was staring at her again. I thought you fell asleep, she told him.

Rhys’s question surprised her entirely. Do you think we should tell Lucien?

Feyre stilled. You mean…?

Yeah.

I…don’t think so. No, she decided. Not while Beron is still alive.

Helion? Rhys asked.

He’d probably invoke the Blood Duel.

That’s an Autumn Court tradition, Rhys reminded her.

Feyre shrugged. I think he would see it fitting.

Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Beron needs to die—and quickly. He added, I’ll contact Eris in the morning. He should know—perhaps not the whole extent of it, but whatever we can tell him. His help might come in handy if… If there was another war. If all their lives were to be put at risk again.

Feyre sighed. I hope Elain knows what she’s gotten herself into.

———

Elain was breathless.

She had never seen a flying horse before—a Pegasus, as Lucien had explained to her on the way, though now that she’d seen one, Lucien’s description hardly seemed to do it justice. The beast was at least double the size of the horses she’d once ridden back home. With Graysen.

She quickly dismissed the memory, cataloguing it for later. She would often shuffle through them before she slept, allowing her mind to wander into the future when she could finally do it all again. She’d imagine herself on Graysen’s doorstep, her ears round and skin flushed, watching as his eyes widened in shock. You’re back, Elain, he would say, his mouth agape. You came back to me.

Soon, Elain thought, then looked back up to the sky.

The chestnut-coloured Pegasus was the High Lord’s favourite stallion’s, Meallan’s, mate. Elain watched as the beast proudly roamed the clouds, wondering how liberating it might feel to be so close to the sun. The horse neighed softly, as though in confirmation—as though it had somehow heard her words from above.

Forcing herself to focus on the task at hand, she tore her gaze off the sky—only to find Lucien staring openly at her, his eyes shining and lips parted slightly as he took her in.

“What?” she asked, the question coming out a tad more rudely than she’d intended.

Lucien didn’t seem to mind. “You’re smiling,” he said quietly.

Elain smothered it quickly. “It is improper to stare, you know.”

He cleared his throat, as if a veil had just been lifted from his mind. “You will find in our time here, lady, that I am many things—and proper is certainly not one of them.” There was an insinuation to his words, an air of promise that made her heart quicken, the golden creature inside her stirring to life and begging to play.

Elain gritted her teeth. “Stop calling me that.”

Lucien, the bastard, ginned. “Seems to me like being improper might just be the one thing we have in common.”

“We have nothing in common,” she told him tightly. Lucien’s smile only broadened, and he opened his mouth, a retort no doubt ready on his tongue when a rich, smooth voice sounded behind them, wrapping itself around Elain’s skin.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Helion Spell-Cleaver said, sunlight dancing in his golden eyes. “Emissaries.”

Lucien turned to face the High Lord, offering a brief nod. “Just guests,” he corrected, making Helion smile.

Elain had heard about the male from stories, but seeing him up close seemed to have even more of an effect. Helion Spell-Cleaver was, to be put quite simply, the sun personified, its light seemingly carrying his every step. She had no doubt those warm, golden rays coiled beneath his dark skin, thrumming gently with the kind of power that she’d only ever felt from Rhysand, ancient and passed down through generations, each one stronger than the other.

As welcoming as he appeared, the High Lord’s eyes remained sharp as they descended upon Elain. Her skin seemed to tingle under his assessment—and Elain stiffened as realisation slammed into her like a solid rock.

Helion’s power was the study of the very magic itself. There was little in his title to be left to interpretation—he cleaved spells, even those oldest and most complex, by feeling the various cords of magic lying beneath the surface and cutting through them, one by one. To Elain, it only meant one thing.

She was in danger.

If Helion could break the spells, he could surely detect them, too—which meant that the bargain she’d struck…

Elain stopped moving entirely.

“May I introduce you,” Lucien said to Helion, pulling her out of her haze, “to Elain Archeron.”

Helion stepped in closer, an easy smile still playing on his handsome features. “I’d be lying if I said I have not been waiting to meet you,” he told her, reaching to plant a courtier’s kiss on her hand, “Lady Elain.”

Lucien’s answering smile was a thing of mockery. “Oh, trust me—she is no lady.”

Helion pulled back, brows high with amusement and a somewhat incredulous expression. It was then that another fact she’d omitted came into Elain’s mind.

Everyone knew what Elain was to Lucien, and what Lucien was to her. An ill-fated match, two people tied to each other by some cruel joke.

Mates.

Lucien seemed to realise it, too, because he composed himself quickly, supposedly not ready to answer questions neither he nor Elain did not have the answers to themselves. Ever the emissary, he slipped into another topic with ease, “I assume you received my letter, then?”

Helion turned to him. “I did. My libraries are at your disposal, as they’ve always been for our allies at, ah…” His gaze swept over their unlikely pair, “the Night Court,” he finished with a smile.

It could not have been more ironic. The two of them looked nothing like Night’s envoys, none of the court’s usual sparkly fabrics and glinting jewels in sight. Elain had opted for a corseted dress—a terrible choice, she understood as quickly as she’d arrived—but it was so much like the gowns she’d used to wear back…back then. It only seemed fitting that, in a place meant to hold all the answers she was seeking, she ought to bring a piece of her old self with her. Now, though, with her hair pinned up and her gown making every single one of her breaths fall flat, Elain just looked…out of place.

Lucien, on the other hand, seemed to have prepared exceptionally well.

Had she not been avoiding him like the plague, Elain might have even asked him for advice. Lucien, to give him credit for something, had been dressed immaculately every time she’d seen him—which, by her own fault, had perhaps not been too often, but enough for Elain to decide if there was one good thing about the male she had no interest in, it was decidedly his fashion sense.

His usual fitted jacket had been replaced by a sleeveless tunic of a gleaming ivory, parts of it tucked in lazily into long, flowy pants of the same colour. The V-like shape cut the fabric down to his chest, revealing a golden-brown chest sculpted just as ridiculously as his arms—strong and muscled, and shimmering softly under the sunlight. His typical boots, modelled excellently for hunting, had been replaced too—a pair of golden sandals in their place, just barely visible under the pants flowing with his every step.

Combining comfort with elegance was clearly the fashion standard in Day—with its High Lord, too, draped in loose garments of white, the only difference being the hems lined with a vibrant, sapphire thread that brought out the shade of his kohl-lined eyes. She suddenly felt warm, a new heat rising to her cheeks—she’d never been known to fail when it came to such occasions. She suddenly felt like a little girl again, nine years old and overflowing with her mother’s too-long pearl necklaces as she’d sneak into her evening balls.

She wanted nothing more than to be shown to her chamber—where, hopefully, she could ask the staff if anything could be prepared for her last-minute—and go to bed in preparation for the day ahead.

Except, as she now noticed, the sun was still shining through the open archways carved into the walls of Helion’s palace, warm and golden, eager to play with her every step as the High Lord began leading them from the gates and through the main hallway.

“How is it still day here?” she asked him curiously.

Helion waved a hand, summoning the same bright light that poured in—a miniature sun of its own, glistening in the palm of his hand. She could’ve sworn she heard Lucien mutter a prayer to the Mother beside her—something about the High Lords and Cauldron-damned show-offs—though Helion did not seem to heave heard as he explained, “While the Solar Courts adhere to the laws of nature, we at the Day Court like to hoard our sunlight for a little longer.”

“You’re the one keeping the sun up?” Elain asked, unable to wrap her head around the magnitude of such power. Helion hummed, apparently thoroughly pleased with her surprise. “My ancestors have been doing it for millennia—it is only fair that I keep up the tradition. It’s quite simple once you get the hang of it, really. I’ve been able to hold the sun for about an hour longer before I ascended my father’s throne.”

Lucien rolled his eyes.

“You must hold great power,” Elain praised, if only to aggravate him further. Helion’s mouth curled, and he opened his mouth when—

“Thank you for having us in your home,” Lucien cut in, Helion’s golden eyes flickering to him curiously. “It’s been a while since I’ve last been here.”

“Indeed,” the High Lord angled his head, dark hair spilling over his shoulder. “I hear you’ve been keeping to the human lands. Such a shame your allies could not make it here today.”

“The Wall has not been down for long enough,” Lucien said calmly, though she’d caught a hint of a strain in his voice. “Their trust will need to be earned.”

Helion hummed his agreement. “Perhaps tomorrow will be a good start.”

The sunlit hallway of pale, luminous stone led them to what Elain could only assume was the guest wing, large enough to fit in the entire River House judging by its impressive size. It seemed only fair, she supposed, given that the palace was not only the High Lord’s primary residence—but the home to his grand library, where scholars from all over the world would travel to to seek the precious knowledge it offered.

They stopped in front of a tall, ornate door when Helion said, “I’ve taken the liberty of assigning you adjoining rooms. Though,” he added, his brows high as he looked between them, “if there are any complications, do let me know at breakfast tomorrow. If you’ll care to join me, of course.”

Lucien nodded, Elain parroting the movement. She supposed she had no choice.

Helion looked at Lucien. “I understand this is a matter of discretion—you were impressively vague in your letter, well done,” he added at Lucien’s arched brow, “so I did not request for a scholar to assist you in your research. I must say, though, that the topic of your investigation has piqued my interest immensely, and I would be more than happy to discuss your ah, findings afterwards.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Lucien added dryly, which, for some reason, had only made Helion smirk.

“Of course you will,” he said smoothly. “I think you will find, Lucien Vanserra, that my knowledge could be of great use to you. What’s a little trust among friends, after all?” winked.

“Are you suggesting you might have a lead for us, Helion?” Elain asked, the High Lord’s gaze twinkling at the question.

“I’m suggesting I might be able to help you get started—if you trust me enough to share what it is precisely that you’re after.”

“Alright,” Lucien said, resting a casual hand on the golden doorknob to their chambers. “Perhaps you could help me with a personal question of my own, then.”

Elain stilled.

“Is it pertinent to your current research?” Helion asked.

“No,” Lucien said, though there was something about the quickness of the dismissal that made Elain doubt the word. “I simply want to see if your knowledge truly is as…impressive as you lead us to believe. Trust goes both ways, does it not, High Lord?”

Helion smiled openly now. “I always knew I liked you.”

Lucien’s answering smile was tight. “Perhaps, after all of this, I’ll be able to share the sentiment.”

Helion shook his head with a chuckle. “Ask away, son. I am incredibly curious to learn the nature of your problem.”

Lucien frowned, apparently not entirely sure what to make of the nickname. Still, he continued, “There is…an object.”

Elain’s eyes widened slightly. Was he…?

“An old family heirloom,” he clarified, a lie so blatant Elain knew with unwavering certainty what, exactly, Lucien was talking about. Even Helion’s brow flicked up, perhaps surprised at the idea of the one and only Lucien Vanserra, Autumn son in exile, keeping a remnant of his family history.

Lucien continued, “It has been…charmed,” he said. “Sealed—and impossible to open.”

Elain’s heart thrummed in her chest. The box.

Lucien had the box.

The one thing she’d been after—the price Koschei had asked for all those months ago when he’d found her in Hybern’s war camp—the same thing that Vassa had stolen, was now in the possession of none other than her mate.

Why do you need it? Elain had asked once, her own visions unable to provide the answer.

It is the key to my power, Koschei purred into her dream, caressing. It holds the thing that’s most precious to me, locked away by my siblings in a pathetic attempt to stifle me. My very soul, he said. Take it from my firebird thief and bring it back to my lake—and I shall return what was once lost to you.

Steal? she breathed. You want me to steal your soul from Vassa?

My firebird took it from me as I liberated her from the bounds of my lake, he said, a new, pulsing anger creeping into his tone. It is how she had repaid me for my good graces. Bring it to me, little Seer, he added, that voice softening as he crooned, and you will be human again.

“Have you tried your fire magic?” Helion’s question took her out of the memory. “If it’s a family heirloom, I would imagine a magic specific to your ancestry to be the key.”

Lucien chewed on his lip, Elain’s eyes now trailing the movement as she waited for his next lie, “The magic that bound it is…different. Ancient.” He took in a breath. “I can only speculate, but my guess is that it was done by an external magic, done to spite whoever owned it at the time.”

Helion’s gaze drifted, the High Lord deep in thought. “It is cursed, then” he mused lowly, Lucien tightly nodding his confirmation. “Bring it to my study,” he told him. “I will have look at it first thing tonight.”

Elain wasn’t sure she was breathing. Had Lucien brought the box here with him? A new hope filled her chest, replacing the fear her ticking clock had installed deep inside her, even louder now that she’d been made to leave the manor.

But Lucien was already shaking his head. “Out of the question. The object is not with me at the moment.”

Shit.

“I’m afraid a curse like that could only be cleaved under my magic’s scrutiny,” Helion said earnestly, disappointment already shadowing his features. Something told her the High Lord enjoyed this—the research, the mystery—saw it as a form of art, even. “Ancient magic had been known to only react to the power my line and I have been fortunate to possess.”

Something lit up deep in the corner of her mind, the same one she’d been ignoring ever since she had become Fae. Something that pushed itself onto her tongue before she could even think to stop it. “That’s not entirely true,” Elain spoke up.

Both males’ gaze flickered to her in surprise.

“That night,” Elain explained, casting a quick glance at Lucien, who stiffened immediately—as though the bond itself had told him what she spoke of. “In Hybern’s castle, you freed yourself from his chains. To—” her throat strained. “To get to me.”

Lucien only looked at her, and Elain realised this was the very first time either of them truly spoke of that night. She returned his stare, wishing but unable to look away, like a light pulling a ship to shore.

She was going to retract her statement—tell them she’d simply gotten confused and disappear into the darkness of her chamber—when Helion spoke again, his voice strangely quiet, “Explain it to me.”

Elain peeled her eyes off of Lucien, seemingly frozen in that utterly Fae sort of stillness, and looked at Helion. “I…may be blurry on the details. But I remember the King leashing Lucien and Tamlin to the ground by a strange, white-hot magic. And then…” and then they’d dragged her under. Elain was not going to speak of this now. “All I remember is a loud snap—and a flare of light. And then Lucien was beside me.”

“What…did the magic look like?” Helion asked carefully, and Elain frowned.

“I—bright. Iridescent,” she added, feeling a little stupid at the lack of knowledge she’d just revealed. Feyre would’ve remembered the exact shape—the scent, the shape it had taken—and painted it afterwards. Elain loosed a breath. “It felt warm. It…it shimmered on his skin,” she added quietly, praying that, in his strange daze, Lucien did not somehow hear her despite standing a mere two feet beside her.

Helion’s face was unreadable as he looked at Elain, unblinking. Then at Lucien, his gaze resting on his scarred face for a long, long time.

“Is there…something wrong?” Elain asked slowly.

The High Lord of Day twitched—actually twitched as he turned to her again. “This…” he cleared his throat, shaking off a strange raspiness that had found its way into his throat. “This is more complicated than I thought. I’m afraid,” he gave her a sympathetic smile before glancing at Lucien again, “I’m going to have to…research this further.”

Elain looked at Lucien, who blinked as she met his stare, a similar clarity returning into his own. He coughed before he said to Helion, “Take your time.”

Helion nodded. “In the meantime…the library is yours to use. Have a pleasant evening—the sun will be setting soon.”

Elain watched with a frown as he hurried away, his steps echoing quietly through the corridor. Only when they faded away did Elain turn to Lucien. “What was—”

But Lucien had already disappeared into their chambers, he, too, seemingly eager to forget about everything and let sleep welcome him at last.

Elain sighed at the thought. It would appear sleep would not come for her as easily.

Not when, as she made way towards her adjoining room, her steps were carried by the sound of his heart, beating rapidly through the stone.

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tarnishedinquirer · 6 months

Text

Case: The Roundtable Hold

I was half expecting Melina to come with me, but I arrived here alone.

Can't say it made the best impression. Whole place had an air about it. Like gathering at the mansion of a dying relative, one whose fortune was lost decades ago and only the house remains. Not enough servants to keep a place this big from going to shit, and none of your cousins would ever stoop so low as to picking up a broom and trying to straighten things up.

Hrm. That hypothetical got a little too specific to be anything but a memory.

Central hub

The centerpiece was a massive Grace on the titular table. Instead of the piles of bark that I've gotten used to, the base was a bunch of weapons, though they still seemed to be sprouting roots. On closer inspection, it was all one solid hunk of metal. Even the "roots" were cast.

A replica of some historical event, perhaps?

The main area was a large circular chamber with statues and a fireplace. Along each wall were alcoves containing real weapons, probably long past the point of repair. Brought to mind the alcoves in that catacomb, like whoever did this was symbolically burying war itself. Maybe they thought the death of war was the same thing as peace.

I'll do all the profiles later, so here's just an overview of my interactions.

Gideon Ofnir seems to be the de facto leader of the Roundtable Hold. Must be important, since the voice mentioned him while I was dead. He offered only the most cursory of greetings before making sure that I knew my place. Sure, I'll play ball. You can be king trash of garbage mountain if you want.

Brother Corhyn is an itinerant monk. Seems friendly enough, but a bit too blind to his faith. I mean, he literally wars a blindfold, but there's gotta be some holes in that thing. Offered to teach me Incantations, but if I ever had faith, I'd lost it long ago.

Diallos is a dandy in the worst way. Handsome, noble, and completely useless. That armor of his had better have a hell of an enchantment on it, since it looks about as flimsy as filigree. He asked me if I'd seen his lost servant, but I guess the thought of looking for her himself never entered his pretty little head.

West Wing

Two wings extended off the central room. The west wing was mostly inaccessible to me, with two chambers blocked off. Guarding one of the doors was an...individual who didn't offer their name and I'm not even gonna guess at their gender. Their armor looked to be made out of hardened pitch, with bones embedded in it.

They didn't speak a word, just silently judged me for even being here. I decided not to bother them and left.

East Wing

This one had more activity. First thing to note was a monstrous blacksmith, hammering away at a pile of weapons. Introduced himself as Hewg. I asked him about the chains and he said flat-out that he's a prisoner, and I guess that's something we both understand. He that he said he's fine being a prisoner as long as he doesn't have to think about, "The terror of her." Now that's interesting. Wonder who he's talking about?

The side room had been converted into a sumptuous boudoir. Its sole occupant seated expectantly on a soft bed. She introduced herself to me as Fia, and I recognized the name immediately. Between my death and revival, the voice had singled her out as important somehow. She invited me to sit beside her and, well...I'd better move on.

A staircase led to a storeroom below, but I couldn't progress any further. One of those gargoyle statues barred my way, and I still don't have a key.

At least they gave me a clue. The one in the tomb had two empty slots, this one has just one. The other imp statue has a small, daggerlike object stuck in its head. Made entirely of the same stone as the statue, but clearly a distinct object. At least now I know what I'm looking for. I'll keep an eye out for any "sword keys."

The last area is a small balcony overlooking a grand entrance hall. I'm sure there's a way down there, but couldn't see one from here.

I'm calling this one a case file because there's too much mystery to do otherwise, even if I'm not sure what it adds up to yet. Too many closed doors here, and I've gotta find a way to open them.

Questions:

Why did the voice single out Fia?

Who is Hewg afraid of?

What's the skull knight's deal?

Where is Diallos's servant, Lanya?

Where IS this place, anyway?

#elden ring #elden ring lore #in character #in character blog #in character post #elden ring oc #elden ring rp #let's play #journal #case files

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camels-pen · 1 year

Text

haha summonings amiright folks

Summary:

Valerie tries to summon the Ghost King.

She gets a little less (more?) than she bargained for.

based on @darthfrodophantom's prompt "Cut the head off the snake, everything else falls apart. Valerie is hoping the same will hold true for the Ghost Zone. And now that Vlad Masters has given her a way to summon the king of the Ghost Zone, she’s hoping she can eliminate the ghost threat once and for all. It sounded like a solid plan, until Danny Fenton of all people showed up when she used the summoning ritual."

Ao3 Link

A circle of blood red flowers, sprinkled with purified (table) salt. A star painted with the blood of several rodents (oh, fuck no, this thing could and would settle for red coloured chalk instead). Five unscented candles arranged at each point, lit one after another in a counterclockwise direction (because why the hell not? God this was annoying). And with a valuable sacrifice placed in the centre (her worn Jonas Brothers poster from above her bed, because this was the one thing she wouldn’t half-ass), speaking the sacred tongue of the beloved (eugh) Ghost King will summon him into your clutches.

It was fairly simple as far as magic rituals went. Valerie had overheard tougher quests from girls talking about video games in the bathroom. It wasn’t like Val was following the recipe to a T, but it was pretty simple.

She was maybe cutting a few corners here and there, but if it worked, it worked. If it didn’t, well, she’d huff about it, maybe complain to Star, but no matter how annoyed she would be, she would ultimately go out and try to find purified salt from, like, a priest or something. She drew the line at rodents though. Had way too much familiarity with them roaming her apartment’s lobby recently and she certainly wasn’t going to touch their blood.

Plus, Val had too much pride (and a healthy fear of mice) to immediately do whatever Mr. Masters’ summoning ritual was telling her without question.

It was fine. Her way would work.

Probably.

She took a calming breath and stumbled her way through the ghost language written on the old parchment. A breeze blew through the room as she reached the half-way mark. the candles flickering wildly as she shivered through her suit.

Then, all of a sudden, it was pure chaos.

She dropped to her knees as the wind started to pick up at the end of her chanting. When she read the final word, a terrible gust tore through the room, throwing around anything not nailed down.

She held tight to the ground, ducking under her desk as it flew past. The candles were snuffed out completely, smoke curling around the devastating tornado being created in her bedroom.

Fuck, was this the weather ghost again? Or did her shortcuts summon something else entirely? She really hoped she didn’t just call up a natural disaster to destroy her room. Her dad would definitely ground her and take her suit away if she did.

And, if she didn’t just summon that weather ghost—if this really was the Ghost King she was summoning, then she needed more room to fight. Either way, she needed to find a way to stop this.

Which, duh, but Val could hardly hear herself think over the sound of the whipping winds, much less try to figure out which element exactly would stop all this without making it worse. The paper had been caught up in the debris and she was fairly sure the moment she relaxed even a little, the wind would pick her up and knock her around the room until either the walls broke or she did. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

She wouldn’t put her hopes on it, but it’d be really convenient if this turned out to be some dramatic entrance for the stupid ghost king—

All at once, the wind vanished and Val felt a brief moment of relief.

…And then she had to quickly roll out of the way of her bed frame falling on her.

The frame fell with a heavy thud on her hardwood floor and she winced as she watched it settle on its side. Her dad was out grocery shopping, but the neighbours downstairs would probably throw a fit the moment he came back. She’d have to come up with a good excuse later.

She surveyed the room.

It was quiet. And dark.

Val gave herself a moment to just breathe.

The candles relit themselves in an instant, this time a bright green burning at the wick. She lifted her gaze and stared, mouth agape at an equally shocked Danny Fenton, barefoot and wearing a pair of comfy star patterned pajamas.

“What the—where—? Valerie? Why am I—?” He gazed around the room before addressing her. He stepped forward, but paused as he was about to hit the circle of petals, glancing down at them. “Uh. Hmm. This is. Uh.” He gulped, eyes refusing to move from the chalk star under his feet.

Val furrowed her brows. “What the hell? It shouldn’t have gone that wrong,” she muttered to herself. She was pretty sure there was no way to summon a regular old human like Danny—no matter how many substitutes she used in the ritual. Maybe Danny was messing with something in his parents’ lab? Ugh, he would have shit enough luck to have this kind of coincidental timing.

She narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Me?” he asked, scandalous. “I was getting ready to go to bed at a respectable time and everything!” He slumped. “Why did you call me here, Val?”

“I didn’t, I was trying to—” summon the new ‘Ghost King’ or whatever he’s called so I can catch him and hand him over to Mr. Masters, is what she would’ve said were it not for the fact that her secret identity was supposed to stay a secret. Her dad already knew thanks to Phantom, but she wasn’t about to share it willingly with anyone, not even Danny. It was safer for him that way.

That didn’t leave her much excuses though.

“Uh, it wasn’t important.” She stood. “Just forget about it.”

“Sure sure.” He brushed past the topic without a second thought. “Now, how about you let me outta here, huh? I’d really like to get some decent sleep tonight.”

Val narrowed her eyes. “The circle only works on ghosts.”

Danny chuckled nervously. “The circle, sure, but blood blossoms work on ghosts and heavily ecto-contaminated people like yours truly so,”—he gestured a hand down at the petals—“whenever you’re ready, I guess.”

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Not even gonna bother trying to explain what you were messing with to end up here?”

“Uhh… no?”

“Wrong answer.”

Danny groaned. “Please Val? I really was just getting ready for bed. No messing around with any of my parents’ inventions, honest!”

“Isn’t your entire house and everything in it one of your parents’ inventions?”

“Well yeah, but only some of the stuff they make is ghost related.”

Val stared at him silently.

He sighed. “Okay, most of them are ghost related. But then, all the more reason to let me go without further questions!” He clasped his hands in front of him, his bottom lip jutting out, and making his eyes big and glassy. “C’mon Val, I’m just a poor, innocent little guy who got caught up in something he didn’t understand.” His lip wobbled. “Send me home?”

Be strong, Val. Be strong.

He leaned closer towards her and his eyes got impossibly bigger and glassier. “Pwease?”

All previous indications of her shaken resolve were locked behind a wall of disgust. “You ruined it.”

“Fuck,” he said emphatically, turning his head away. “I went too far into convince-Tucker-to-buy-food territory.”

“I don’t know what to say to that so I’m going to pretend I never heard it.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just send me home, please.”

“How do you even know I can do that?”

Danny shrugged. “You pulled me here. Theoretically, you should be able to push me back.”

“You have a lot of faith in me being able to do this.”

“It’s hard not to.” He smiled and she felt a familiar little flutter of warmth in her chest. “You’re one of the most capable people I know.”

She felt her face heat up. “We didn’t date that long.”

“I know.” His smile dimmed. She desperately wanted to bring it back. “There’s more important stuff you gotta do and you can’t have me weighing you down—”

“That’s not—”

“It is though, isn’t it?” The smile that returned to his face was pained, bitter. She hated that look. “You wanna do what you think is right and you don’t think I’d be able to handle it with you.”

“It’s not that you can’t handle it, it’s that I’m trying to—” She made a wordless noise of frustration. “The ghosts—uh, the ghost damage repair group I volunteer with is, um, too dangerous for someone who isn’t prepared for it.”

“Right. Of course.” He shook his head. He muttered to himself, “This is my fault anyway, I should’ve just told you before things got complicated.”

She inhaled sharply and her heart started beating faster. They had kissed a few times, gone out on dates, but they never said those three significant words to each other. Had Danny planned to say—?

“Danny—” She started to speak, stopped, started again. “Danny, I—I always—I still—” She felt a lump grow in her throat and she struggled to speak her next words, “I lo—”

Danny stared at her. The longer he waited, the colder his eyes looked.

“I lo—lost. Everything,” she said, her shoulders slumping. “I had to start over with my dad from scratch. I just wanted to prevent other people from doing the same.”

“Is that it?”

She pursed her lips. Tightly.

He huffed a humourless laugh. “It was pretty stupid of me to expect the people I love to pick me over ghosts, huh?”

“I didn’t pick ghosts over you.”

“Sure didn’t seem like it.”

“Somebody’s gotta do what I do; it’s what’s right!”

“Do all the other people in your volunteer group dump their partners when they join?”

“You’re not being fair.” Her nails dug into her palms. When had she clenched her fists? “You had things you never told me either!”

“But I never left you because of them.”

“I WAS TRYING TO KEEP YOU SAFE!” she shouted.

Her words echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls and ceiling before slowly petering out.

The room was silent.

Danny spoke, his voice ice cold. “You broke up with me for revenge.”

“No.” She put her head in her hands. “I didn’t.”

Danny scowled. “You hated Phantom. You hated all ghosts.”

“I did—do, but,”—she sighed—“after a while of ghost—um, damage repair, and dating you, I started to see revenge wasn’t what mattered.” She crossed her arms. “Much as I still blame him for ruining my life, Phantom said it best: innocent people get hurt all the time during ghost attacks; it’s our job to stop the ghosts, but it’s also our job to keep as many people out of harm’s way as possible.”

When she looked up there was a blank expression on Danny’s face. She hurried to continue, “I-I realized that if I kept dating you, one day you’d learn what I was up to and get caught up in an attack trying to find me.” She hugged herself. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt because of me.”

“Val, I….” He trailed off, hand outstretched, but paused just before the edge of the circle. He let it fall. “I’m sorry. For assuming.”

She shook her head. “I mean, you were right. That’s how I was when we were dating. Only caring about revenge on Phantom.” She tried a laugh. “Now it’s just a side hobby.”

He grinned, though it looked a little forced. “Still, the fact that I couldn’t tell makes me a pretty terrible Fenton, huh?”

“No, I’d say you’re about as clueless as your old man.”

Danny let out a genuine laugh at that. The sound filled her chest with warmth and brought a smile to her face. She hadn’t heard the sound in such a long time, she had forgotten what it sounded like. “Thanks, Val.”

“My pleasure.”

The room was silent once more.

“We can, uh, talk more later.” She looked around the room for the instruction paper. “I’ll try and find a way to send you home.”

“Oh, you could probably just break the circle of petals and smudge the chalk near one of the candles. That way the elements tying me to this place would be disrupted and it’ll send me back from whence I came.”

Val stared at him.

Danny coughed. “I mean, probably.”

She continued to stare.

“I think.”

She leaned closer.

“In theory.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“Look, can you just try it?”

Val groaned. “Out of respect for your attempt at a decent sleep schedule—and an understanding that you pick up weird ghost facts from your parents a lot—I’m gonna let you off the hook, but!” She pointed at him. “We’re figuring this out later.”

Danny waved a hand. “Absolutely. Definitely. 100%. I won’t forget.”

“You better not.” She kneeled down close to one of the candles.

“C’mon it’s me.” She raised a brow. He sighed. “I’ll write a note about it when I get home.”

Satisfied, she reached out towards the clump of petals surrounding the candle holder. “I’ll have you out in a second.”

“Great, I am so looking forward to some well earned Z’s.” He yawned.

A little bit of guilt wormed its way into her heart for keeping him this long. “Yeah, hope you sleep well.”

“You too, Red.”

Val snapped her head up, her heart stopping cold in her chest. “What?”

“‘What’ what?” Danny furrowed his brows, his sleepy brain seeming to play catch up, before he froze, looking suddenly completely alert. “Oh! Uh—I was referencing your, uh, your suit! You’re wearing a Red Huntress cosplay, right? She’s so cool.”

“Oh,”—tension bled from her shoulders; she’d completely forgotten she was wearing it—“you really think so?”

“Yeah, of course!” He nodded vigorously, becoming more animated. “She’s super strong, her aim is out of this world, and I’ve never seen someone so good at riding a hoverboard!”

Val felt herself flush. “Oh, c’mon, there’s not that much to it. Just takes some practice, y’know.”

Danny shook his head. “Uh uh, I’ve flown—er, I’ve used some of the hoverboards my parents have made in the past and all that aerial maneuvering stuff is hard. Gotta give mad props to you—” Val’s eyes widened. “HER! Her. Gotta, heh, gotta give mad props to her….” he trailed off, shrinking slightly as Val narrowed her eyes.

“Danny, if there’s anything you want to tell me—”

“Nope! Not a thing!” He brought up his bare wrist. “Oh, would you look at the time, I’d really rather go soon so I can get my full 9 hours.” Val continued to stare at him. “Please?” he asked, his voice small and pitiful.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll get rid of the circle.” She chose to ignore Danny’s sigh of relief. That boy wasn’t getting out of this conversation, Val had only just realized she still needed to straighten up her room as much as possible before her dad got home. “The Red Huntress isn’t all that great by the way, she messes up a ton.” Maybe not like Phantom, but she had her own mistakes.

She bent down, grabbing handfuls of petals and pushing them out of the way to rub her thumbs over the chalk lines.

“Uh, respectfully, shut… up?” he said, voice pitching higher as Val looked up, pausing her work with raised eyebrows. “She does a lot of thankless work all on her own and people don’t appreciate the kind of hard work and effort it takes to be able to hunt ghosts as well as she does.”

Valerie paused, stunned.

“Did you just tell me to shut up and then compliment me?” The words left her lips before she registered them. She tried to backtrack, “Fuck, uh, I meant—”

“I mean, yeah,”—Danny spoke over her, rubbing the back of his neck—“if you’re going to talk shit about yourself, you gotta be prepared for me to call you amazing every way I know how.”

“You knew then?” she said faintly. “How long?”

“Since I outed you to your—” Danny cut himself off and Val could see the dial up internet sound playing behind his eyes as he caught up with his own words. “S-Since—Since, uh. Shit, fuck—” He ran a hand through his hair. “Since—”

Things were starting to add up in Val’s head. The fact that Danny had been missing for hours and Mr. Masters was the one to bring him back. The fact that ever since the day Amity Park was taken into the Ghost Zone he’d started seeming… off in a way she was never able to put a finger on.

The fact that his teeth had looked significantly sharper when she came back after March break—and the way his eyes reflected in a green light, when only the standard yellow were fit into the ceilings at school. The way he’d seemed when Mr. Masters brought him back: pale, bruised, and horrifying wounds gouged out of his back. Val was no expert, but she was pretty sure no human should’ve survived something like that.

There was only one answer.

“Stop,” she said. Danny snapped his mouth shut, his shoulders pulling up to his ears. “Just admit it. You know who I am and I know that you…” She paused as the reality of his situation really started to click in her head. Danny cringed as she spoke, awestruck, “You took your parents’ invention to fight the Ghost King and took his title.”

“Yeah, I’m Ph—” He blinked. “What.”

She counted off on her fingers. “You know who I am because you were hiding around the lab somewhere when Phantom pulled off my mask; you knew how to operate the suit because you’re a Fenton; and you’ve started seeming more, well, ghost-like over the last several months. I imagine your appearance is tied to how much power the crown and ring give you, or something like that, but I’m right aren’t I?” She gestured at the summoning circle. “I mean why else would you show up if I was trying to summon the newest Ghost King? It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

He stared at her with a blank look before putting his head in his hands. “Yup,” he said, voice strangled. “You got me. Point for point. Every bit of that is true.”

It wasn’t. He was still holding something back, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. And beyond that, why would Mr. Masters give her this old summoning ritual if he knew it would drag out his nephew? Maybe he thought it would summon someone else instead? Some ghost pulling strings behind the scene that Danny didn’t know about?

She pondered the possibilities as she brushed away the last of the petals connecting to one of the candles. She wiped the dust off her hands as she stood.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of explaining all the details to me by the way,” Val said, putting her hands on her hips. “I expect full honesty from now on.”

Danny smiled. It was a little strained, but she had no clue of how painful the process of being summoned and unsummoned was, much less any clue of how much it might hurt to do it in a single night. She should probably apologize for that later. Or maybe give him some free Nasty fries instead. Yeah, that’d be way less awkward.

“I’ll do my best,” he said. “I can’t promise anything though.”

Val rolled her eyes. “Of course you can’t.”

“I can tell you this. You’re the first person to catch me on purpose since I was coronated.” Danny smirked, his eyes flashing green. “In some ghost cultures, that would be enough to make you my Queen.”

The sound that came out of Valerie’s mouth must’ve been what a sneezing chicken sounded like. “Excuse me?”

Danny’s smirk grew into a full on grin, but before he could answer he disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.

She stared at the empty space in front of her.

She looked down.

Her foot slipped.

The circle was smudged.

She paused for a few moments, her brain lagging as it tried to process the new information.

She walked over to the nearest wall. Slid down it. Stared blankly at the knocked over punching bag across from her.

“Valerie!” her dad called sometime later. “Why did the neighbours complain about the noise? And what’s with all the smoke?”

#danny phantom #phic #phic phight #phic phight 2023 #gray ghost #past relationship but eh #nemo the writing ho

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