#the border is painted gold btw and there is some gold in the clouds and the side of the boat

[pastryjay]

And now free.

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Acrylic on 30 x 30 cm canvas,

Tap for HQ

[cawolters]

✷ Babes in the Well ✷ (Liar Alliance snippet)

Good day to you! It’s been a minute, but here I am with a little thing that I think you guys might think will be a neat read.

It’s a little snippet of a scene I wrote between charming young King Deria and my newly hatched/refined character, gloomy necromantic Hinrich. 

(Hinrich is a Mask btw, a sort of ambassador to the Kings of the ten kingdoms in the empire.)

Where: Tall Castle at the beginning of book two

Who: Deria is talking

What: He’s wandering the Chalice Room, looking at paintings and thinking about magic when he’s interrupted by a gloomy apparition. 

WC: 1800

Themes: Ghost magic, politcal intrigue, secret coup!!

Is it gay?

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Well. Yes, on multiple levels, but not explicit in this scene.

Unfortunately. 

Plot needs pages too.

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✴ BLUE FLAG ✴

What a delightful day it was indeed. The sunlight in the mountains cast its gentle overcast glare over the hills as afternoon clouds drifted slowly over the subtly rising and falling hills deep down, down, in the valley, below my childhood home, Tall Castle.

The patterns of shy light and then sporadic sharp beams, raying out of the heavens and touching a little cottage outside the village, was more enchanting than magic.

Or, I would have thought that before I had seen the gold coin eyes of the Blade by the Empress’ side. Ah, and then her flat pieces of dull ebony to contrast his. They had been standing so close and then she had laughed. I saw it, a flower blooming in the deep dark night.

Magic indeed.  

I drifted away from the massive window and toward the far end of the grand chambers of the vacant Chalice Room . My father had called it the Chalice Room because of the grand ornamented stone goblets that ran along the walls on either side of a wide aisle, making an elongated space where politics could merge or divide in its rift.

It was here all the meets with the kingdoms were held. In the middle was the round stone table, large enough and fit for Kings and just a moment ago it had been stuffed with every inch of the continent. The Ten Kings, or, rather our four border kingdoms that could come to us within a week, had gathered here in the tallest of castles, but to what end?

I wondered.

My eyes followed the walls. Paintings, taller than two able men on top of each other’s shoulders, were hung between the lit oil-chalices. King after King draped in deep rich velvets, queens and offspring, squeezed into gilded frames. More often than not, there were more than seven people stacked together in dim rooms and posing.

As I walked, their lifelike eyes followed me. Even my own green gaze, almost hidden behind the black sorrow veil that honored my late father, seemed eager to stalk me through the fabric on my stroll. It would stay like that for five years, covered with black silk to grieve The Great Fifth King. The Wall To The North. Praise in his name.

My face twitched, entirely involuntary, and I quickened my pace for the next two paintings until I got where I had wanted to go.

I stopped at the end of the aisle and came closer to the portrait, larger still than the rest and looking almost empty as there were only three people in the dim light of a dark background. 

Kōrudo, The Cold. The Emperor.

Ohtani, The Sun Smile. 

His lovely tragic wife that looked like she had never smiled in a hundred years, and now she never would. And then, there, holding her mother’s hand; their little daughter. 

Empress Shiroin. The Pure One.

I almost laughed out loud at the nickname.

I had seen this portrait many a time of course. I had admired that oddity of the first girl to be born in the imperial line for a thousand years, but now that I had seen her in person, had had her presence just a breath away from mine, I never imagined an artist to be so wrong about a face.

The portrait looked like her, the likeness was there, no doubt, but he had caught her wrong. The artist’s hand must have begged him to dot those two fictive pearls of oil-white in her black gaze, add that tint of pink life on her cheeks and erase some of that hatred that blazed out of her face like the cutting rays of sun in my valley.

She had only been five when the painting had come into creation, so small a human, but in truth not looking like a human at all. Despite the artist’s efforts.

“Have you fallen in love?”

The quiet voice behind me, slightly distorted into more whispery voices speaking simultaneously, sent my heart racing and made me whip my head over my shoulder. 

When I immediately spotted the menacing cloaked figure of Hinrich, standing in the middle of the Chalice Room, appeared out of thin air, my stomach did a small flip as unease hit it.

His cloak moved as if under water, wavering around his ankles and framing his pale face irregularly. Hinrich’s mass was see-through. An undead ghost. The Mask of Kaiserhof.

I sighed dramatically in a smile, suppressing the urge to flee, and turned back to the painting. My eyes once more seeking Shiroin’s pits.

“Yes always, and with everyone. It’s not a sporadic occurrence it’s a chronic condition. You should adapt my philosophies, Hinrich, then perhaps you wouldn’t look like a wraith who wants to crawl down a well and haunt it.”

Though I had my back to him, I could sense the Mask had glided closer while I talked. His presence had changed the temperature of the room.

“My philosophies are my own, they don’t need outside pollution. And wells are only haunted by dead whore-babes. Not men. I fish for them when my work demands bones and rotting flesh.” He said, quietly, the wisp of a voice far away and carried to my castle with death magic.

By the Gods he was a creepy sort of errand boy. We had been dealing with each other since the Empress had first vanished and I had almost gotten used to it by now, his unsettling being and ghoul magic, but admittedly not totally.

“Gone to the Gods through a wet hole.” I joked lightly, “what an enchanting way to depart this world. Out the way we came in, and frequently visits, no?”

He wasn’t actually a ghost of course. I would not have had the stomach to engage if he had been dead.

When I turned, his mouth was sour, disgust crinkling one side of his straight nose sitting on his translucent face.  

“If you’re talking about sticking your cock in somewhere, it better be the Empress.” The light in the room did not fall on him, and he cast no shadow.

“Now now, Hinrich, manners. I am still a King after all.”

“Not my King.” He was a statue, staring at me and pissing me right in the face without a flinch. Then he added:

“Did she comply to the marriage?”

I threw my head back in a loud laugh. The Chalice Room made it sound like a roar.

“Comply?! Good Sir, Have you met her?”

Hinrich’s expression told me that he hadn’t and that he had no interest of ever doing so. All he wanted was his master’s orders carried out. He was an unsettling figure, but a good lapdog, to the right lap.

“If you cannot deliver, we will recruit one of the others. Errin’s King is unwed too.”

“Are you threatening me with ‘The sickling from the swamps’? I have the wall, the army, the looks and I am what they call a ‘team player’. I’m a quality bargain.” I smiled wider and tilted my head, “Besides. If you just wanted an unwed King to lock down the Empress with a ring, or stick something still up her dress, why not use your own?”

I knew exactly why. I was dealing a friendly blow, aimed right up under Hinrich’s arm at the only spot I knew he was truly sore.

“Hm, why hasn’t Eckhart apparition joined us here at Tall Castle to seduce the Grand Empress?”

In a blink his ghost was nose to nose with me. Hinrich wasn’t actually dead. His young, able, body was alive and well in Kaiserhof, but his spirit, tainted and twisted as it were, was right here with me. And though he was not haunting me, the illusion of terror, in that moment, was rather convincing.

I gulped.

Hinrich could not touch me, I had tested that when I had thrown a book at him the first time he came to me, but he was freezing my blood.

“Never take my King’s name in your dirty mouth.” His warning was slow and hateful.

There was a long pause where I could only see his sunken in eyes and feel the ice.

I slowly wet my lips with the tip of my tongue. My bones were shaking.

“Are we about to share our first kiss?” I whispered.

Another pause slid by, in which Hinrich processed my third joke of the day. Then he drifted backwards. Not amused at all.  

“Deria, the quick. You think you are so smart,” his gaze darkened “but you know nothing. Make her say yes. Force her to be your ring.” The word ‘ring’ was a quiet bark his mouth.

“Force her? And how would I do that. Let me tell you, she almost stabbed me twice already, I’m sure she’s eager to actually spear me through my throat the third time I give her an excuse.”

Heinrich didn’t hesitate.

“Use the war.”

My smile fell.

“… Retract my forces? Then the empire loses two thirds of the world army.”

The Mask didn’t blink and he didn’t answer.

“But… Then the war is not ours. The Elsalvians could win, we don’t know their numbers with utmost certainty. Hinrich, people would die -A lot of people, my people your people, everyone! And mine are the first to meet the doomsday fire on our doorstep.” I ran a hand through my curls. “It- it’s the thousand year war, by the Gods! I won’t risk all of humankind for a coup at puts me at the top. I am not starved for a power that comes at that price.”

“Do what you have to.”

“You’re not hearing me, I can’t agree-“ I started but Hinrich interrupted me.

“It’s a threat. The Grand Empress will have to take you as her ring, for the sake of the empire. She will fold. Use the war.” Hinrich drifted backwards, his cloak soaring and floating in water that wasn’t there.

“And if she says no? She’s not striking me as a humanitarian.” I bit. I was getting angry now.

“This will happen whether you want it to or not. You cannot stop it.” His strange hissing voice was fading, the winter cold was becoming more tolerable.

I gaped at him in disbelief before I found my reply.

“Maybe I can stop you. I could expose your little illegal spells to the worlds, the other kingdoms, and then you’d be burned before the rooster is crowing on the last day of this week.”

His face scrunched up as he snarled.

“Try, and you will know what true horror looks like.”

I opened my mouth but closed it again.

“That’s right. Do what you have to do. Or we will, King Deria.”

My name hung in the air for a moment and then the Mask was gone. Disappeared and dissolved like a drop of ink in the running river.

I stared at the spot Hinrich had just been. Contemplating how I was a mouse between two mountain lion. He had had a point. If I declined, they would stage their coup around me, shut me out and keep me in the dark while they worked their sorcery to manipulate the fate of the world.

My hands became fists of their own as I strode out of the Chalice Room.

“Fucking magic.”

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-Ciao-

[sheith-fanfic-writer-blog]

Idk if you’re okay with AUs? Anyway I know it’s been done before (any fic recs btw?) but I have a huge thing for college AU where Shiro is a TA and Keith is an undergrad student, and Keith keeps on going to office hours under the pretense of not understanding the material even though he’s literally the top of the class.

Hi @seriously-sheith , thank you for this prompt. I have deviated slightly from what you asked but I hope you still like it. I am sorry for the ending, I was getting to the stage with these two lovebirds where I just wanted someone to push them together and just get them the kiss! Haha, I think Matt and Pidge would do just that as well  :P 

Mondays were beautiful days, the sun always shined, and no rain dared to fall from the sky, the grey clouds would continue floating by, always making sure to cross the county border before any student realistically woke up.

Keith loved Mondays, much to the utter disgust of his friends and roommates. Mondays were his second favourite day of the week. He would plan out his outfit throughout the Sunday afternoon, always selecting colours that best accentuated his long, lithe features and slim waist. Tight, ripped skinny jeans in varying colours and well-fitted T-shirts with funny phrases or logos – they always created a comment from his desired one.

Today’s T-shirt said ‘Hashtag the Hashtag!’ which he had no idea what it meant but the top looked great on him and Shiro always commented on his tops, any shred of attention from him was treasured like gold dust and carefully stored so that every minute detail, from the exact time to the scent of Shiro’s shampoo, could be easily remembered.

Oh God, that just sounded creepy.

On this specific Monday morning Keith found himself at the kitchen table with a bowl of multicoloured cereal, reading over his equally multicoloured notes from Shiro’s Aviation Engineering tutoring class, where they had been focusing on the recent designs of the MFE’s and how unique the satellite missile system’s programming was compared to other fighter jets.

Now, the only reason Keith was taking this class was because of Shiro. For he had fallen head over heels in love with the guy almost as soon as he saw him butt naked in his Art and Anatomy class where they were doing from life sketches of people, or as Keith put it ‘how to draw a God’.

When Keith had arrived in the old classroom which stank of thirty year’s worth of paint, varnish and glue, he wasn’t expecting anyone special and probably just that old ginger, moustachioed man who always used to strike the most ridiculous poses. However, to the delight of Keith (and maybe some of the other students who had bothered to turn up for that class) they were greeted with a well-endowed Shiro, perched on a plush armchair in the centre of the circle sipping a Starbucks coffee (a soy latte) his Levi jeans, briefs and T-shirt were folded neatly on Keith’s desk. When Keith approached his usual spot Shiro had turned a bright red and apologised profusely for leaving his clothes ‘dumped’ on his desk – not that Keith actually minded, it was their first conversation after all.

Keith later found out that Shiro was a graduate student and TA at the university, studying Astronomy and Astral Engineering, and though Keith was studying an Art major, he decided to take one of Shiro’s classes…for science, of course.

Surprisingly Keith has been doing really well, not only did it feel like he was treading water with professional swimmers, but he was also racing them, and he was winning! All thanks to the beautiful Shiro who Keith had been crushing on for almost a year.

But it was not like anything was ever going to happen between them, but a man could still dream.

 xxx

Shiro loved Mondays, he got to sleep in and have waffles with Matt at the diner down the street from their flat, he only had to teach one class and then after dinner he had a two-hour tutoring lesson with a guy he has been crushing on since said guy sauntered into a certain art classroom wearing skinny black jeans and a hot ass leather jacket.

Admittedly, Shiro wished that they could have met in better circumstances and not when Shiro was doing a favour for Coran, who had somehow done his back in during his last modelling session! 

Yes, Keith was beautiful and smart and funny and all Shiro wanted to do was gush and moan about him all day long to Matt, but whenever he tried all he got was ‘just ask him out!’ promptly followed by Matt deafening himself with his headphones just so that he no longer had to hear Shiro’s whining. 

But there was no way Shiro could do that, Keith only saw him as a TA, maybe even as a friend at the very most! There was no way they could be more than that…

xxx

The corridor was long and surprising packed full of students with heavy backpacks and sleepy eyes. 

Down the hall, Shiro was walking with Matt just a step behind him. Keith was walking towards him. 

Oh, God. 

'Shiro, do you trust me?’ asked Matt. 

'What are you-' 

'Just, do you trust me?’ asked Matt again, more urgently this time. 

Shiro only nodded, his voice rendered useless as Keith was stepping closer and closer towards him, his peripheral vision was tunnelling and blurring as his eyes zeroed in on Keith. 

Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulder blades and harsh push and Shiro was tripping over his clumsy big feet, only just catching himself before falling over backwards as he staggered on the extra weight of Keith’s body pushing into his chest. 

The world slowed down around them as they fell, their eyes met and their cheeks burning a hot crimson. Shiro’s arms wrapped themselves around Keith and pulled him into his chest. 

Landing on the cold tiled floor and bruising his tailbone should have been a downer for Shiro’s Monday morning but it wasn’t, because in his arms was an equally flustered Keith. 

'I am so so-’ Keith started.

'Are you ok-?’ began Shiro

'FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SHIRO JUST KISS HIM ALREADY!’ screamed Matt.

'KEITH NOWS YOUR CHANCE! TAKE IT MAN!’ shouted another guy Shiro didn’t know. 

It took about five minutes for the two gushing men to get up from off the floor and another ten minutes before they both asked each other out - at the same time.