#the sword held tightly in her hand is the invite

[all-lars-bars]

Thinking about Alice Human Sacrifice for the Markiplier Protags. See tags for infodump.

[readychilledwine]

Hiraeth

Summary - After your husband dies, Lucien fills a void you and your son never thought possible.

Warnings - death of a partner, single momming

"Jump, Arlo," Lucien's arms and hands were reached up, waiting for the young male to throw himself into them. "I have you, bud. I will catch you."

Your son watched him, one little hand steadying himself on the thick rough bark of the solid oak tree, the other in his mouth as he chewed on his fingers from nerves and stared down at the redheaded male.

He had managed to climb several feet into a tree while Tamlin had been checking in with you. He was constantly asking how you two were holding up since Andras' death, asking if he could provide anything, asking about Ro.

Lucien had been watching him, but Lucien, raised in the rough Autumn Court, had always allowed your son to explore beyond what you and Andras had been comfortable with.

He had been around more since your husband's death, playing with your son, talking to him, teaching him about the forest and different skills. He had taught him to fish, to cook on a camp fire, they even sword fought together with little wooden swords the Autumn male had made.

At first you had thought it was Lucien acting on something he felt obligated to do, but you had realized slowly it was out of love for Arlo. His little buddy, as Lucien affectionately called him. They had begun to dress in matching outfits, style their hair similarly. Arlo loved Lucien almost as much as he had loved his father.

"I'm too scared," his little voice pulled you back into the moment. The soft tremble of his lip as he looked at you wide-eyed. He was only 5 feet up. For a grown fae, it was an easy jump, or fall, for a child it had to be terrifying, though.

"Arlo, I promise you I will catch you," Lucien spoke softly to him. "I will not let you fall and get hurt. I am right here." Your hand shot to Tamlin's wrist, squeezing tightly as Arlo adjusted his stance with a nod. You refused to look as his little knees bent and he leaped, throwing yourself into Tamlin's chest and hiding in the High Lord's arms.

Soft giggles and laughter, from the tree had you glancing from between your fingers. Arlo was in Lucien's arms, held tight against his side as the old male praised him for his bravery. Tamlin looked down at you, brows raised, and you back away with a soft apology.

You two watched as Lucien held your son high above his head, letting the little boy hold his arms out as if he could fly. "I heard Feyre is home from the Night Court. How is she?" Tamlin typically avoided the topic of his love with you, but news spread fast in Spring of her long awaited return. You had known he was hurting, and were happy, if he was.

"She seems happy, like she's been freed from something." Tamlin answered plainly. "I should return to her. It looks like Lucien and Arlo are going to play for a while. He missed him constantly while we were gone. Kept asking how much longer we'd be staying, mentioning how he promised to take Arlo on a camping trip soon." Tamlin kissed the top of your head. Holding a hand up to Lucien in farewell before moving to go back to the manor.

You watched as he chased your young son through the clearing before finally catching him.

Their laughter became one, as they laid down in the soft plush grass. "Are you going to join us or just stare?' Lucien asked over his shoulder. "Your mom is weird, bud." Arlo laughed and nodded eagerly. Enjoying watching the male tease you.

The three of you laid there, watching the clouds drifting and pointing out different shapes in them. "Are you going to have dinner with us tonight?" You say next to Lucien, his head immediately coming to rest in your lap.

"Are you inviting me to dinner tonight, my lady?" His tone held insecurity in it. "I know you two are-"

"I can feed you, Lucien." You interrupted quietly. "Tamlin has been giving me more gold lately than I know what to do with, especially because he keeps paying for things on top of that out of guilt. It's been so long since you've joined us. Please." Arlo had fallen into a sleep against Lucien's side. His soft breaths comimg out in little snores. "He misses you so much."

Lucien looked up at you then, and it happened. A deep burning sensation setting into your soul as that string appeared. Lucien felt shock hitting him as his breath hitched. "You're my mate." Shock fell into his tone as your own eyes widened.

He sat up slowly, eyes studying you cautiously and laying Arlo gently on the ground. His hands were on your face almost instantly. "Still want to serve me that dinner, petal?" Your breath jumped into your throat. "Because even the Gods know how deeply I burn for you."

"Arlo," you whispered. "He's missed you so much. We-"

"We will talk to him about it tomorrow and just enjoy the night together. The three of us." Lucien kissed your nose, sealing the offer. "I've missed him, too. Going into the woods isn't as fun without my little buddy."

You smiled at him, eyes sparkling. "Guess I can't be mad when you take off with him for days at a time now, huh?"

Lucien leaned his forehead against yours, "I need to teach my son how the world works, petal." His tone was light and joking. You stared into his eyes, lips flicking slowly to his plush lips then back up. "Well, if you insist, darling."

Lucien pulled you to him, kissing you softly before pulling back. "Let's go feed our little guy." You nodded, hands laced into his shirt. "I promise you a thousand more kisses when he's in bed tonight."

He lifted Arlo carefully, carrying him into the stone house you and Andras had built together. "Give me sign this is okay," you whispered into the wind. "Please, Andras."

A butterfly landed on your arm, fluttering it's wings gently, before chasing after Lucien and landing on his shoulder. Then on Arlo's nose.

Chaos ensured hours later as Lucien and Arlo ran and screamed through the House. They were on a warpath to save the kingdom from invaders. A deep voice replayed in your mind, the last words spoken to you by your husband. If I die, go to Lucien, lean on him. He will love you as I have. Both of you.

A soft breeze rustled your hair pushing you towards Lucien, towards the house. Go, it seemed to whisper. Lucien stood in the door way, looking back at you and waiting, his face falling in concern. You went to him, kissing him again and closing the door behind the three of you.

And Gods he did. He smiled at you as he spun Arlo, the bond almost radiating between you two as if it was the sun itself. I love you, y/n. Andras' voice said again in your mind. Be happy, my love. If I don't come home to you. That is my only request.

Lucien and Arlo moved to the table, setting it before running upstairs to wash up for dinner. Hands found your hips and a kiss was snuck before your son came back down. "You seem happy," Lucien whispered.

You nodded, eyes welling slightly with tears as he started to grab food to take it to the table. "I am."

As the three of you settled at the table, a feeling of home came back to you. A feeling you didn't know you had been longing for since your husband's death. Lucien moved to hold your hand as if he sensed it, "Me too, y/n."

[cosmos-coma]

Hi!! Can I request an Eskel one shot where he fell in love with the reader (a Viper witcheress who is homeless since it disbanded) and he invites her back to Kaer Morhen for winter to introduce her to his brothers. She's also a great cook and the wolfs says she's a keeper. 😆

Vipers and Wolves

A/N: Ive never written a witcher!reader before, but it wasn't bad at all! I was hit with the comedic bug for this one, It's not super romantic all around but it is strong in found family!

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Language, very quick editing

___________________________________

It was in the heat of summer when you first met. 

You had been laying under a great big oak tree as the rain pattered down around you. The fire warmed your face as you set a heaping pile of damp fuel beside it, hoping it would dry in time to use it. Stray raindrops fell like tears from the leaves above you, making you shudder as one lucky one slid right down your back. 

“Ugh… stupid rain,” you complained to yourself as you set out your bedroll and started getting comfortable in your camp. 

The sun was beginning to set when you heard rustling far off in the distance, towards the middle of the forest. You were right outside of a small town so it was probably just a human, but people don't usually travel through the thick of the forest either. Your viper head medallion confirmed your suspicions as it lay motionless against your chest.

You stood cautiously and drew your steel sword as the sound of breaking twigs got closer and closer. A large dark silhouette moved within your vision as the sun was now halfway sunk on the horizon. As they got closer you could see it was actually a man on a large black horse, with… two swords on their back? Is it possible you really found another witcher?

You couldn’t believe your cat-like eyes. So many of you were lost after the sieges. So many of your brothers and sisters were killed defending your home from the onslaught of humans, and even then they couldn’t succeed. Your old home now was a wasteland of rocks and unlivable walls that held no more life. All the books and research your school did on the wild hunt… gone save for you and the few survivors. 

“ A fellow witcher.” You held your hand up in a friendly wave as you watched him dismount and come closer to the light of your campfire. 

Your breath escaped you as you saw the warmth of his Golden eyes lit by the fire, they were soft in a way that you didn’t often see from others, let alone witchers. Deep scars ravaged the right side of his cheek, tightly twisting his skin in jagged ways and notching his slightly chapped lips. 

“Ah, not every day you run across another witcher out in the field.” He smiled a bit as he nodded toward your swords. “Eskel, Wolf school.” He introduced himself and held out his hand. He seemed oddly trustworthy of you, but you suppose some people just have better judges of character. 

You dropped your sword back with your other belongings as you shook his hand in return. “Y/n, Viper school.” you smiled a bit as you spoke and motioned to your camp. “You’re, uh- I guess you’re welcome to make camp here too… means I have someone else to collect firewood for me.” you laughed a bit, gaining a small smile in return from the broad man.

He shook his head a bit as his brow furrowed, “isn’t there a town just a few minutes ride that way? Why don’t you get a room at the tavern there?” He asked, taking a seat across from you at the campfire as you sat down on your bedroll. 

“Can’t waste the money.” you said with a frown, “The viper school isn’t livable anymore so I have to hole up in a tavern all winter. I mean, I’ve found a nice place that’ll let me work to stay but, somehow money still seems to run far too thin by the end of the season so I need everything I can get.” 

Eskel watched as you stoked the fire carefully and added another log. He wasn't sure if it was the scar that ran across your nose that seemed to highlight your features, or perhaps it was the way you spoke that found him feeling exactly at home.  Maybe it was your subtle scent of lavender? No, no, it was your eyes for sure. Your eyes glowed in the firelight and danced with a fierce- yet gentle- determination, a dichotomy that Eskel rarely saw outside of his own eyes.

“Well… Do you mind having a guest at your campsite tonight? I’ll collect all the firewood you could ever need.”

---------

“Are you sure this is gonna be alright? I’m not sure…” You said as the tall standing walls of the Keep just crept into view over the hills. “They're not gonna be nearly as nice as you are, you're an exception…” You sighed.

“Oh, no. You’re right- they’re complete assholes, but I promise they’d never be like that to you. Not right away, anyways.” Eskel stifled a small laugh when you turned to scowl deeply at him. “I just mean to say… that as you become more like family they’re gonna treat you more like family. And that of course includes ruthless teasing from time to time.” He smiled and shrugged. 

Though you were fierce and skilled as a Witcher- and among the few women in your profession at that- you knew that you were intruding on another school, someone else's home with different customs and you felt like you needed to tread lightly lest you be asked to return to the oncoming winter season.

It took the rest of the day to finally reach the Keep’s arching gate and ride your horses through. You put them away in the stables, absolutely taking the opportunity to meet the famed Lil bleater along the way. 

A comfortable warmth washed over you as the doors to the great hall opened and a large fire crackled in the fireplace, warming the 3 men already inside. Eskel had told you more than enough about his brothers and his father figure. Geralt, the one with white hair and a scar down the eye who looks grumpy all the time, but can be cracked with a joke at Lambert's or Eskel's Expense. Lambert, smaller than the others and the stereotypical younger brothers, his heart lies in mischief and bomb-making. And finally, Vesemir, Who always- but especially after the sieges- stepped up as a sort of father figure to them and was always a little wary, but more than willing to give anyone a fair chance. 

“Eskel… Welcome back” Geralt greeted and held his mug up to his returning brother. 

“And friend..? Well, Hello..” Lambert said with raised eyebrows which quickly turned into a mischievous grin. Your fingers brushed Eskel’s hand before you could even think about it, inviting and asking for his hand to hold, to which he was quick to respond and intertwine his fingers with yours. You could tell it didn’t go unnoticed, but none of them said anything about it.

“And a Viper at that…Been a long time since I’ve seen any of you. I reckon there's even less of you than there is of us…” Vesemir observed out loud as he nodded and raised his hand in greeting. 

“You’d be right on that… Letho is the only other one of us I know to still be around.” You said with a hint of sadness in your voice, unlike that of what was expected of a witcher, even less than that of what a Viper should be. You were all made to be ruthless and cold, but for some reason, it just didn’t seem to stick with you for very long. 

“Well, welcome to the last of the wolves, I suppose. “ Geralt said with a nod to you, “we were all just arguing about whose turn it is to make dinner.” 

Eskel sighed and set his stuff on the table, “I’m not doing that after a full day of travel. I vote Lambert.” he proposed, getting met with Lambert’s loud and offended scoff. 

“What the FUCK, Eskel?” 

Geralt’s serious exterior cracked as a smile slipped onto his lips and he turned to Lambert with a smirk. “Well, Lambert. That’s two votes for you, one for me, and Vesemir couldn’t give a shit. Sooooo…” he said with a short laugh. 

“You guys are absolute dogshit,” Lambert complained, throwing his hands in the air in an exaggerated gesture. 

Now it was your turn to pipe up, “I don’t mind cooking…”, you said, looking between the small group of men. 

“Y/n, you don’t have to do that. We’ve just spent days on horseback, you should rest..” Eskel tried to argue, but you quickly waved him off. 

“Nonsense. Part of my job at the tavern over winter was to cook for guests. I actually find it rather relaxing.” you said with a smile and a firm squeeze to his hand before you handed your pack over, “Which way to the kitchen?” 

“I’ll show you!” Lambert shot up faster than he probably ever had for a task, and quickly waved you on towards the Keep’s kitchen. Once out of earshot of his brothers and father he quietly thanked you for taking over the dreaded task and showed you everything you could need. 

It wasn’t too long before you were cooking up a storm and coming out of the kitchen with a sizzling pan and a steaming pot. Vesemir was kind enough to grab plates for everyone as the boys all began to crowd around. 

“Hmm, smells better than Geralt's cooking…” Lambert commented as he wafted the steam toward his face.

“Fuck that, it smells better than Vesemir’s cooking..” Eskel dared to say in front of the old man. But it was true, you put all you had into this dish. You figured that- like with many people- a wolf’s heart lies within its stomach. Of course having a full shelf of spices available to you helped a lot, some even that you hadn’t seen in circulation for many years.

Without another word, they all quickly served themselves up and began eating. It was so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop all the up the stairs into the tower if you tried hard enough. Your nerves started twisting at your stomach as you got your own plate and still no one had said a word. Was it good? Was it bad? No, Lambert probably would have said so. 

“This…” Vesemir spoke, the first word since everyone had been served, “This is the first time they’ve been completely quiet at dinner in over 50 years…”, he said with a warm smile, more than you ever thought capable of the older man. “Your great food has given me the one thing I never thought I’d have again. Silent company..” He laughed a bit, now turning to Eskel. 

“She’s a keeper, you know that, right? If you show up next winter without her you’re gonna sleep in the stables.” Vesemir finished as he turned back to his plate. Lambert and Geralt mumbled agreements through full mouths and content hums as Eskel turned the slightest shade of pink. 

“Yes, I understand. I don’t need your threats to keep her around though,” Eskel said with a small smile as he reached for your hand above the table, in full view of everyone else. 

A smile spread across your face that you tried to hide as you took a bite of food, “Oh yeah, Eskel’s never gonna be rid of me at this rate…” 

_____________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @madamemelancholysstuff @dark-academia-slut

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[haphira]

Miraculous Ladybug and the Valiant Annuler By: Haphira

Chapter 39. The Aftermath - Ladybug feels the fallout but she isn’t alone anymore 

The group landed a few blocks away on an abandoned building, Ladybug was holding back a sob, as she turned to face the group. 

“I don’t... I don’t think I need to, remind you... that we have to... have to keep his identity a s-secret.” Ladybug struggled to say, holding her arms together tightly.  

“Ladybug...” Dìonadair said softly, “It’s okay, you can let go.” He opened his arms as an invitation for her. Ladybug sniffed then rushed at Dìonadair, hugging him tightly and started to sob.  

Sionnach and Hachi quietly came up and started to rub Ladybug’s back in comfort. 

“He was supposed to support me! He was supposed to stand by my side!” Ladybug bawled. Dìonadair held Ladybug a little tighter. 

“How could he betray me on both sides of the mask?!”  

Dìonadair, Sionnach and Hachi froze. “What do you mean, Ladybug? Do you know Adrien Agreste personally?” Hachi asked, a rough edge to her voice as if she too were holding back tears. 

Ladybug nodded, “In my personal life he said he would support me but did nothing whenever a certain liar came after me. She tore up some of my friendships and always painted me as the bad guy. And Adrien just stood by! Said that ‘taking the high road’ was the best course of action, like it was a path of action in the first place! He just wanted me to be the punching bag, to just sit there and take it without saying anything! And I went along with it! Because I thought I was in love with him!”  

The gears in Sionnach’s head were turning, this story felt very familiar, but a fuzziness kept creeping up, making things difficult to concentrate on. Dìonadair was frowning in concern, a strong sense of Déjà vu hit him, along with the weird fuzzy feeling, but Luka pushed through it, thinking about the similarities between Ladybug and Marinette.  

Hachi looked a little hurt and confused, “Adrien did nothing?” Ladybug nodded again.  

“Then he is not the person I thought he was,” Hachi commented. She had thought that Adrien was finally turning a corner for her, the last few times they hung out at sword fighting practice he had been a bit more focused on Kagami, and she was pleased. Now, after learning what he did and didn’t do, put things in a different perspective. Kagami was hurt.  

“Oh, Ka-Hachi, I’m so sorry, you knew him too, I'm sorry.” Ladybug sniffed. She reached out and held Hachi’s hand.  

“You have nothing to apologize for, Ladybug.” Hachi replied, giving Ladybug’s hand a light squeeze. 

“B-but I should have done something to curb Chat! O-or told Adrien that his advice wasn’t going to w-work. Or-” Ladybug rambled. She felt guilty, she wasn’t the only one to have lost someone tonight. 

“No, Ladybug, none of this is your fault. You did what you could, and you did the best that you could. No, this is the result of Chat's - of Adrien's - own actions.” Hachi said firmly.  

Ladybug paused for a moment then nodded. “Sorry, I forget that not everything is my fault, it’s hard sometimes when he always said that it was.”  

“Oh, Ladybug.” The group smooshed together a little tighter to give Ladybug a hug. Ladybug giggled and wiped her eyes.  

“Thank you all. I couldn’t have gotten through this without all of you.” Ladybug took a little time to look at each of them in the eye to show her sincerity.  

“We wouldn’t be here without you too.” Sionnach said softly. Ladybug smiled at her.  

“Well, what happens now?” Hachi asked. Ladybug let go of everyone and stood up straight. 

“Now, the Black Cat goes to Dìonadair.” She replied.  Everyone looked at him as he stared back at Ladybug. 

“If you are ready, Bug, if not, giving me the Cat Miraculous can wait.” Dìonadair said. Ladybug smiled and shook her head.  

“No, it’s time. I need a new partner and Paris needs a new protector.” Dìonadair nodded. 

“How are we going to do this?” He asked. Ladybug turned to Sionnach and Hachi. 

“I think it’s time for you guys to go home and rest. It’s not quite time for a reveal yet.” Ladybug said softly with a hint of humor in her tone. Hachi and Sionnach smiled and waved their goodbyes as they headed off into the night.  

Ladybug turned back to Dìonadair, “Okay, you need to de-transform the Turtle Miraculous then I can give you the Cat Miraculous.” Dìonadair nodded and closed his eyes as he said the de-transforming words. Light flashed and Luka stood tall as Wayzz floated then bowed to Luka. 

“It was an honor working with you Master Luka.” Wayzz said, he glanced at Ladybug and smiled. 

“I look forward to seeing the previous Turtle again, we have much to talk about.”  

Ladybug nodded then reached into her yoyo and brought out the Cat Miraculous as Luka took off the bracelet of the Turtle. They exchanged Miraculous as Ladybug put the Turtle into her yoyo and Luka put on the ring.  

A flash of light was seen then Plagg popped up. For a long moment no one spoke as Luka and Plagg looked each other over. Ladybug watched in apprehension, wondering how they were going to get along.  

“Very different from the last Cat, but that can be a good thing.” Plagg finally broke the silence. Luka smiled at him. 

“Well, even if the instruments were the same, they would still sound different.”  

“True,” Plagg replied, “And maybe a new cheese is what is needed here.” Plagg and Luka were silent then nodded to each other.  

“I expect good things from you Kitten and know that I won’t let things slide.” Plagg leaned in closer to Luka, eyes sharp as he looked at him. 

“I would want nothing less.” Luka replied resolutely. He wouldn’t mess up like the previous cat. Sure, he might make mistakes, but he would never abandon Ladybug or Paris.  

“Ready?” Plagg called. 

“Ready,” Luka responded with a grin.  

Plagg told him the transformation words and Luka repeated them without hesitation. Another flash of light then in the place of Luka was the new Cat Miraculous holder.  

Chapter 40

[thebawdybaldurian]

BG3FicFeb Day 11

SFW: After the attack on the Last Light Inn, the tadpolers heal their wounded.

NSFW: Tav and Astarion visit her cottage when they finally arrive in Baldur's Gate, sharing a bath and rekindling their sex life after Astarion's healing journey.

SFW: bandaging/healing each others’ wounds

“Is everyone alright?” Tav called while catching her breath. She made a face as she pulled her sword out of the winged horror she'd felled. Her adrenaline was so high, she didn’t notice the bleeding wounds on her forearm where the creature had slashed her.

“Tav!” Astarion went to her, holding his hand over the wounds, his concern for her outweighing the intoxicating scent of her blood.

“You’re bleeding too,” her fingers reached for the small cut across his perfect cheek. She began to tremble as she healed him, her body finally noticing her own pain.

“Don’t bother with me,” he winced as the stinging wound on his face began to close up from her spell. “Halsin! She needs healing.”

The Druid rushed over after helping a tiefling back to their feet. “Clataedre, Astarion,” he called, laying his hands on her immediately when he saw her wounds.

“Where are the others? Is anyone else injured?” Tav looked around as Halsin healed her. “Is…are we missing people?”

She saw a few of the tiefling children huddled under a table and went to them as soon as he was finished with his spell. “Where’s Mol?” Tav knew the eldest of the orphans was always with the others.

“They took her,” Doni cried, held tightly to Meli. “The winged beast.”

“They took a few others,” Halsin came over to soothe the crying children.

“Stay with them,” Tav touched his shoulder, knowing they were in better hands than with her. “I’m going to find Jaheira and Isobel.”

“Bold of them to attack an inn full of Harpers,” Astarion joined her.

“They took people, why?” Tav wondered, spotting Jaheira healing a wound on Isobel’s temple.

“They were here for me,” Isobel looked at Jaheira, keeping her secret for the moment.

“Why?” Tav joined them. “Because of the moon barrier?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Isobel lied, knowing her father had likely sent for her.

“They took off with a few others, a child even,” Tav informed them, dabbing areas of blood off Jaheira looking for wounds.

“I’m fine, cub,” the Harper waved her off, knowing none of it was her blood. “The cultists have been getting bolder. We need to strike back at them soon.”

NSFW: Taking a bath together

Background: The adventurers have finally entered Baldur’s Gate and Tav decides to check in on her small cottage in the Lower City, inviting Astarion to come along. They’ve been working through Astarion’s traumatic past with small exercises and limited physical contact, but they’ve yet to be intimate again.

Content and Warnings: Female elf x male elf. Mutual stimulation, PIV sex.

“Well, this is it,” Tav stopped at a bright purple door attached to a modest cottage. Various notices had been stuck to the door. She pulled them all off, unconcerned since her key still worked. The door groaned slightly, but opened, revealing a sitting room that was also attached to the kitchen. There was a staleness in the air from being shut up for so long, and as Astarion came to discover, a half eaten loaf of moldy bread and cheese.

“You left this all out?” he made a face, covering the moldy food with a towel while she went to open the large kitchen window.

“I was planning to come back the night I got abducted. I often need a little snack after my performances,” she replied, wrapping the moldy food up and setting it in the rubbish bin outside.

“And the pile of laundry on the chaise?” He eyed the rest of the room with a smile, enjoying this private look at her life. “Not concerned about guests seeing that,” he teased her a little, leaning against the kitchen table.

“You’re the first man I’ve ever brought back here actually.”

“And what about the women you’ve been with?” He teased her again.

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re the first person I’ve brought back here. I haven’t liked anyone enough to share my private sanctuary until now.” She grabbed his hands and pressed her body against his.

“Oh so you like me?” He smiled and kissed her.

“One might even go so far as to say I love you,” she grinned, biting his lower lip softly.

“It’s good that you can admit it,” he teased her one last time, before squeezing her tightly against him with a heavy sigh. “I love you. More than anything. Thank you for showing this to me.”

“You haven’t even seen the best parts yet.”

“Like the bedroom?” he gave her ass a loving squeeze.

“I was going to say the view from the study, but the bedroom is nice too.”

“Lead the way, love.”

They pulled away from one another, Tav leading him to the ladder that went to the loft. “I know you’ll just look up my dress,” she motioned for him to climb up first.

“Guilty!” He grinned and began to climb. She followed closely behind him, giving his ass an eyeful of her attention. As she reached the top, she found his attention focused on the windows. “Well, that’s something,” he was otherwise speechless. He walked towards the windows, letting the late afternoon sun wash over him. The view of the harbor and city below were almost completely unobstructed, only a few spires and towers to look beyond.

He only remembered the city at night, dark and sparsely populated. This city was alive, moving at so many different speeds. He’d never felt much sympathy for any of the dark denizens he’d met at night, but these busy little dots had no idea what was coming and it filled him with sorrow.

She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. “So what do you think?” she asked.

“It looks beautiful…and fragile,” he pressed his hand to the warm glass.

“The glass or the city?” She knew his silence meant he was deep in thought.

“Both, I suppose. The Elder Brain could destroy it all so easily. Or Cazador if he wished. As for the glass…”

“It’s quite strong I think,” she pressed her hand on top of his, nuzzling his neck. “I once had a dream it was strong enough to hold us both when we made love against it.”

“Really?” He cocked his head slightly.

“Mmmhmm,” she gently kissed his neck. “When we were in the goblin village." He could only guess it had been the morning she'd snuck off to pleasure herself after they'd had an argument the previous night. “How about we check out the rest of the house?” She suggested, not wanting to linger on discussions of sex. They’d made a lot of progress with his healing, but she was waiting for him to decide when he was ready to try anything sexual again.

She pulled him away from the windows and back down the ladder to tour the rest of the house. She took him down the hallway that led to the bath and bedroom. He peeked in the bathroom first, grinning widely at the large soaking tub. “Now that is a thing of beauty,” he walked in and eyed the tub.

“It’s one of my favorite spots in the house,” she smiled, leaning on the door frame. “The boiler is enchanted, so I can get hot water almost instantly.”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing a bath,” he blushed. “We did that in the goblin village too.”

“Yes, I remember you nearly tickled me to death,” she beamed widely at the memory.

That was the moment when they’d both realized they might be able to have something beyond their sexual attraction to one another. She’d doted attention on him, washing and massaging his scalp. He’d allowed himself to be open and silly with her. They both tried to forget the fight they’d had right after, when he’d tried to repay her kindness with oral sex, which she’d refused. It was one of the things they’d been working on, giving love unconditionally, without feeling obligated to repay it right away. “A bath does sound amazing,” Tav stepped into the bathroom and turned on the faucet.

They slowly undressed, peeking at the bodies they’d known intimately, but not for quite some time. They both felt a little shy, like they were getting a second chance at their first look at one another. They slipped their final undergarments down as the tub continued to fill. Tav bent over and circled her hand through the water, testing the temperature. She adjusted the heat a little and looked back up at him. “After you,” she motioned for him to get in first, fighting against the stirring of her loins as she looked at his naked frame. He climbed in, fighting his own desires as she stepped in front of him, settling down at the opposite end of the tub. This tub was more accommodating, so they didn’t have to squish in so closely, but their bodies still touched slightly under the warm water. “Do you want it hotter?” She asked, knowing he ran colder than her.

“A little,” he gulped, thinking things were plenty hot in other places.

She adjusted the tap again and then shut the faucet off completely once the tub was full enough. They both sunk down into the water to soak and relax, letting out deep sighs. “To think I’d almost gotten used to bathing via a bucket,” Astarion mused.

“I’ll be happy to never see that bucket again,” Tav smiled. “I might soak here everyday.”

“I might join you everyday,” he smiled back, grabbing one of her legs that floated next to him. He began to massage her foot, trying to make a decision. He felt ready to try some more intimate acts with her, but worried about ruining all the progress they’d made if he found himself disassociating again.

“That feels nice,” she sighed again, picking up one of his legs to do the same. “With all the walking we’ve been doing, I think I need new boots.”

“I was thinking we just need to convince Halsin to pull us both in a cart,” he joked.

“That’d be nice too,” she laughed.

She was still spending a lot of time with the druid, but they were no longer making love multiple times a day now that their initial hunger for one another had cooled down to a reasonable amount. Still, she found herself thinking back to the times she and Astarion had made love or more accurately, fucked. He had been rough and aggressive with her on occasion, which she liked, and which Halsin was less inclined to do. He was gentle and sweet, even when he was pressing all of his weight on top of her. She longed for a bit of that rough and dirty sex, wondering if his style of lovemaking would change after his healing journey.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Astarion, giving her foot a gentle squeeze and saying her name. His thoughts too had gone to their sex life. “Tav,” he swallowed the nervousness in his throat, having come to a decision as they soaked and massaged one another. “I…I think I’m ready to try some things…with you…together.”

“Okay,” she nodded, feeling her heartbeat rapidly increase. “What did you have in mind?”

“Some mutual touching…” he felt his spine tingling at the thought. “And depending on how things feel…”

“Okay,” she felt her face flushing all over. “Just keep checking in with yourself, like we’ve practiced.” She shifted a little, feeling an urgent tingle between her legs. “Did…you want to keep things here in the tub…or wait until we get out?”

“Our first time involved water…why don’t we keep things here for now? Stick with the theme.” He shifted as well, anticipating her touch.

She nodded, pulling herself out of her reclined position and tucking her legs under her so she could kneel between his legs. She leaned in to kiss him, gripping the edge of the tub to hold herself up and letting her other hand caress his chest, slowly moving downward. His hands wandered to her as well, letting his thumbs stroke her hips. Her fingers brushed against his cock, floating half hard in the water. She touched it lightly, unlocking her lips from his. “Is that alright?”

“Very much so,” he kissed her again, letting a hand wander towards her backside and then between her thighs.

“Mmmm,” she purred as his fingers tickled her gently, already feeling some of viscous arousal there. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered, letting her hand take ownership of his cock as his fingers slipped along her folds.

“I’ve missed you too,” he kissed her deeply, closing his eyes so he could enjoy both the feeling of her hand around him and the slick warmth of her folds.

They stayed like this for a while, kissing hungrily and stimulating each other, their bodies quivering in excitement. He finally looked at her, needing just a little bit more. She fingers trembled as she silently acknowledged his look, letting her hand move to a different position around his cock, preparing to slip him inside her. “We can stop at anytime, okay?” She said, moving the tip of his cock towards her engorged slit.

“Okay,” he nodded, biting his lip slightly as he felt her cunt swallow the head of his cock. She let out a hissing breath as she eased herself further down, sliding him in inch by inch.

“Oh Gods,” she sighed as her clit reached his hipbone, engulfing him completely. He was the perfect size for her cunt, Halsin’s thick, long cock a little too much at times. They were like a key and lock, fitting perfectly together.

“You feel so good,” he moaned as she began to move slowly up and down his shaft. “Gods, you feel so good.”

She found his lips again, sharing her hot breaths as she worked her hips against him. They stared into each other’s eyes, sharing the special intimacy that they’d both missed so much. The bathroom filled with the soft burble of the water stirred by their movements and the quiet moans of two lovers rekindling their fires slowly. “I want to come with you,” she spoke between heavy breaths, feeling the urgent pressure on her clit growing. “Tell me how you want me to get you there and when you’re close.”

“A little faster,” he gripped her ass tightly, eager to feel the pulsation of her climax around him as he erupted inside her. “And I like when you squeeze around the head of my cock when your hips move upward.”

“Very specific…I love it,” she smiled, doing exactly that when her hips reached the apex of their movement.

“Just like that, love,” his mouth fell open.

“Yeah?” She groaned, holding tight to her climax, waiting for him with all her effort. “What else?”

“Just don’t stop,” he begged, gripping her ass even tighter, ready to explode and she moved faster around his cock. “I’m so close, just, uhhhnnnn, yeah,” he felt her pulsing around him as his seed sprung loose, joining her joyous moans with his.

His unbridled noises made her climax even sweeter, no longer holding back any of himself to seem proper and refined. There was no need to perform the carefully crafted routine of the trained Lothario. It was just Astarion, letting out the sounds his body finally felt wholly for the first time. They held tightly to one another, letting their climaxes vibrate against each other’s body.

It was as powerful as the first time they’d been together, but this wasn’t followed by the immediate fear that had gripped them and pulled them apart. They melted together, catching their breath, their hearts filled by love. “My love,” she giggled happily, kissing him greedily. “The noises you made. Gods.”

“I don’t know where they came from,” he blushed happily. “I…it was so wonderful. I could feel everything. You felt so fucking good.”

“You did too,” she grinned. “In fact, you, huhhhh,” she squeezed her thighs together, pressing a second small climax out of her engorged clit. “Mmmph, you made me come twice. Pretty good for a first time.”

“Thank you for being patient with me,” he looked in her eyes, so grateful to have her in his life. “I love you.”

“You were worth the wait, my love. My everything.”

They kissed and caressed each other until the water had gone cold and their skin was pruny. “How about we stay here tonight and join the others at camp in the morning?” She suggested as they climbed out and toweled off. “You’ll never have a better trance than in my bed. I paid a pretty copper for it.”

“I don’t know how much sleep we’ll be getting,” he pulled her close. “We may have opened the floodgates.”

[tabibitto]

Queen of the Ashes | Dainsleif x Reader Part Two (FINAL)

part 1 here

Though his breathe was physically visible in the cold mountains that separated Liyue and Mondstat, it felt warm on his red cheeks and nose.

Dainsleif held his sword tightly in his gloved hand, a fighting stance upon the snow, feet digging into the white and soft ground as he glared at the Lawachurl in front of him. Crystal blue ice decorating his horns, knuckles and knees, snow set still upon his shoulders and messy mane. A deep growl as he puffed his chest and flexed his arms. The cold breathe of cryo making the tall, Khaenri'ahn male shake at how it bit the remaining uncovered skin on his face.

He was wet in blood that did not belong to him. It stuck to his boots and cape, dripped down the edge of his blade.

Dainsleif was foolish enough to follow an abyss herald into Dragonspine where monsters lay in every wake. Only to be led into a trap that proved difficult to wind out of.

He crouched lower to the ground, ready to swing at a moment's notice.

Except, he didn't have to.

The sound of hooves approaching froze them both in their tracks, and as the Lawachurl turned with an animalistic grunt to face the newcomer, just as quickly as his body turned did his head fly right off of it. Blood splattering. Ruining the pure and clean white snow with it's filth.

However Dain did not falter. Not until the hooded figure came into view.

It was a women. The tight black turtleneck hugging her chest area said so. She wore a cape that looked suspiciously like his own. Starred and purple on the inside. Her bare hands nearly matched it's color with how bruised they look. Either from punching a wall or a person.

She rode on a black stallion. Her hands carrying a chain that led to an arrowhead like spiked metal with a ball of what he guessed to be a pyro slime. When it swung, it's flames did too. He could only assume the strength she used to blow the head of a creature much bigger then herself with a weapon like that

The women let out a gasp as she came into view of him and dropped her weapon. Scrambling to reach him so desperately she fell off her horse and on her knees.

Through the gap her mask allowed, he could see a pair of watery, blue eyes.

Wait.

Gently, with shaking fingers she pried it off her face. And he dropped the bloody sword, stumbling backwards as a face he had not seen in 500 years stared back at him, mirroring the expression he wore in the reflection of her eyes

The face that laughed when he did something silly. The face that smiled when he started his shifts with good mornings and ended them with good nights. The face that wallowed in pleasure as he fucked her in the quiet of a night, hand placed over her mouth to avoid being punished for their crime of being in love. A queen was not to have feelings for her queensgaurd. Certainly not invite him into her bed, when she was meant to marry nobles and carry heirs that would inherit the throne she sat on.

He knew this better then anyone. And she knew that he hated it. When she would attend royal balls and political gatherings, and have to stand by like a statue. Watching with angry eyes as men came to offer her marriage, children, gold, luxury. Things he could never give her. The only thing he could give her was his company and comfort. His affections and advice when she needed it.

If she needed him at her side for advice he would be there in the blink of an eye. If she wanted his arms to hold her while she cried in stress and frustration he would without question. If she asked him, with those little puppy eyes and pink cheeks he found so adorable, to be intimate with her, he was already undressing them both.

He was there at her beck and call. His sword was hers his life was hers, his heart was hers forever and ever.

As much as the simplicity of what he could offer as a common man who worked at the Palace of Khaenri’ah, protecting the queen at all hours of the day. Compared to the riches men who sought her power and wealth, his queen claimed that what he thought was so little in comparison to greater men, she saw as the biggest gift anyone could offer.

Of course, he understood her side in this. Emotional trust and love didnt quite compare to material things. Yet sometimes Dainsleif couldn’t help but get…a little jealous and insecure he couldn’t provide the financial stability and wealth others could.

Though this never bothered his sweetheart. She always claimed no matter who would want her hand, he would always have her heart. For this, the comfort and love she gave him to reciprocate what he tried his hardest to give, he would always be indebted to her.

You can only imagine the heartache. When even the protection he swore many years ago when she first was crowned Queen of Khaenri’ah. Could not be given as he held her under crumbling ruins. Could only hold her crying form as the people he too was meant to serve were burned and killed outside the broken entrance.

Could only comfort and make her final moments easier then what many had, until death did they part.

He tried. He really did.

Dainsleif tried to get her away but there was no escape for anyone on that land. He failed his duty in protecting his queen and love. All he could have hoped for was to make her grief less while they waited, helpless for her to be killed for wrongs she tried to right. For being born on the wrong side of the ocean and being unable to control the actions of every human in Khaenri’ah

An impossible thing to ask. He had told her

And for 500 years did he try to make himself believe he did make her death more merciful and kind. When he had woken up in the ruins of the land he once called home and gaurded his queen in. With her body gone, and the bodies and blood of the dead and cursed left behind as history of what once was.

So many times did he try to join his love in the afterlife, knowing she was dead. And could only wander, seek revenge, live until he couldnt. Hunt down the abyss and search for answers. Clear ones.

And yet, here he stood, inches away from the face he had started to forget as time took his memory little by little. Her eyes the same tearful ones as that dreadful day. Except. They held joy he had not seen in so long. They held his own reflection. And he could see tears on him he did not feel.

Dainsleif cast aside the bag he carried slung across his shoulder and tackled the poor women to the ground. Her legs making way for his body to settle between them, wrapping around his hips as she clung to him. Shaking and crying in silence before letting out a loud inhale that broke into a sob.

He could only shakily shush her through his own tears. Just as that day.

Except it was so longer goodbye. It was hello.

A reunion he dreamed of and knew it could never be more then that.

A dream.

One that came true now it seems as he cradled his queens trembling body as she clung to him, repeating with perfect accent the mother tongue he hadnt even spoken himself in so long. Damn near forgetting the language he grew with after 500 years of it not proving any use.

“Your Alive..Your alive your alive your alive” she cried out. Less to him, and more to convince herself this was real as she buried her face into his shoulder, mumbling the same two words over and over until her voice cracked into a whisper from soreness

He sat up with her still attached to him, rocking her on the snow as he made no noise while his tears ran like angry rivers.

At the same time did they part and took each others face in their cold hands.

Dainsleif let out a weak smile and reached down to wipe the sticky wetness between the space of her top lip and nose that came from her nostrils. He saw her eyes widen in embarrassment and immediately swung her head away, which he followed, making her swing it the other way to avoid him seeing the obvious red on her face with a soft whine of protest.

He let out a chuckle, a shaky one at that as he stood up and wordlessly sat her back on the horse.

“W-Wait Don’t Leave—”

She didn’t get to finish as he was already gripping either end of the leather saddle and hopped on right behind her, gripping her waist gently yet firmly.

“Don’t worry my queen, im not leaving you ever again. Not until we actually both die in each others arms.” He whispered to her chuckling in bittersweetness.

She seemed hurt for a small moment and he tilted his head a little in concern.

“I am no longer Queen of Khaenri’ah Ser Dainsleif.” She said both playfully and sadly, using his own former title which, if it was an object. It would have collected mold and dust long ago. Probably already withered away.

The former monarch sighed, glancing into the cold and white of Dragonspine, her eyes flickering from the ruins to the camp of hilichurls. Her former subjects.

Unrecognizable. Different. Their past identities had died along with their country. Now they could merely count the days until their new and dreadful faces withered away too. By time or by sword. Just like she was.

“I am merely a Queen of the Ashes”

[yellowcry]

Tell me something I'll forget (and you might have to tell me again)

Mirabel's ceremony! Such a big day!

Isabela looked up, staring as her sister slowly reached her doorknob

Pedro and Alma swap au

Okay.... It definitely went wrong. Isabela backed away in shock, leaning on her Tía. Mirabel's door vanished right in front of their eyes. Leaving a shining unsertanity in the air. Can the door even disappear? How? In Isabela's long eleven years long life she hadn't seen anything quite like that. The Madrigals stared in confusion, the world was frozen. Mirabel stared at Abuelo with such sad eyes. Several petals fell off the flower crown that Isabela had made for her. Mama and Papa held each other tightly, with wide open mouths. The wind blew in the patio, a right sign of how worried Tía Pepa was.

"Shh..." Felíx patted her spine, trying to make her calm down. "Mi vida, it's okay." Of course, he was the one to stay optimistic despite the situation. Always looking on the bright side.

"Dolly, do you know what's going on?" Isabela leaned closer to her twin-cousin. She was smart, maybe she had already figured out what happened (on simply heard it)

Dolores slowly tilted her head. "No idea. I didn't hear anyone talking about that ever before." Yeah, everyone before got their gifts? Why wouldn't Mirabel have one too? Isabela's grip on her cousin's palm tightened.

Camilo's eyes looked between his parents, sister, and cousins, trying to understand what was going on. He shapeshifted from nerves, gripping Tía's hand.

Pedro shook his head, turning to the guests, mainly Agústin's relatives and family friends. "Today's celebration's dismissed. Please, everyone, go home." The Madrigal Candle in his hands flickered, fading for just a bare second. Flashes of yellow light fell on the floor

With it, the small amount of people who were invited went out of the dark patio, grumbling.

Things spun around really fast. Isabela found herself bored in her room. Don't get her wrong, she was worried. And upset too. But sitting in her room wouldn't do anything.

She suspected that her parents were with Mirabel. Of course, Isabela couldn't imagine how she felt. So young, helpless. Even more than Isabela herself. Tía Pepa and Tío Felix probably were comforting their kids. And heavens knew what was Luisa doing. This left her alone in this predicament. When everyone was busy and she didn't have anyone to ask all the hard questions in her mind.

Isabela walked out on her toes. She knew she had to be quiet if she didn't want to get caught by Abuelo. She hated it, she wasn't Dolores who could move like a ghost. But Isabela would prefer to suffer for a bit than to be found.

Casita creaked its tile, asking Isabela to stay away. The young girl just shook her head, patting one of the pillars. "C'mon, I want to help," She demanded, pushing herself to a weak light, coming from one of the rooms.

Abuelo paced around the kitchen nervously, as Luisa (of course, it's always her) followed him like a duckling. In a candlelight, Isabela could see how pale her sister was. Not like she could blame her. Tío Bruno knocked on the table in this heavy predicament. It was quiet. Isabela peaked through the doorway, but the trio was a bit distracted. It was dark, candles glimmered, dripping with wax. The table was filled with food that wasn't going to be used in the way they planned.

Finally, Abuelo turned to Tío Bruno. "Okay, here's what we'll do. You go take a vision." His fists clenched from bursting nerves. "If there's anything wrong, if it means any danger we must know."

Danger? For what? Pfff... Isabela bet she could help with it herself! And she doesn't even need that stupid shimmering fashionable sword. (tho she had to admit, it looks extremely cool) She can help with plants!

Bruno winced. "Papa, are you sure? I mean..."

"Bruno." Pedro had cut him off. "It's for the family. You have to ensure Mirabel's safe."

It was something they heard every day. They needed to be in safety. No matter how boring it was. It was strange, Dolores had said that other girls didn't live like them. They were going to school, and playing outdoors. Isabela really couldn't understand why they were locked in.

The younger man nodded, nervous. Isabela could see him shrink under Abuelo's gaze. Again, it wasn't something unexpected. Abuelo didn't like it when anyone disobeyed him.

Lost in her thoughts, Isabela didn't notice how Tío Bruno almost bumped into her. She jumped back, startled. Damn, she didn't plan to be caught.

Bruno winced looking down at her. "Kid? What are you doing in here?"

"Don't tell Abuelo I was here!" Isabela begged. She feared to think what Abuelo would do. (He probably won't actually do anything bad, just scold her and close her in her room. She wasn't sure why she was so worried about his reaction)

Bruno's eyes widened, he gestured stop. ", Okay, okay..."

She bit her lip, looking up. With how dark it was, she barely could make out her Tío's outlines. "Do you know anything?"

Bruno shrugged his shoulders. "Gotta see the future for that?" He patted her spine, nervous as always. "Are you worried for your sister?"

Isabela didn't reply. Her mind still was too wild to proceed with everything that had happened. Maybe she was? Or maybe she was upset or mad? Or confused? She didn't quite realize her own feelings yet. "Have a good vision."

It would be better not only for Bruno but for Mirabel too. And, well, Isabela wouldn't leave him alone tomorrow until he confessed of what he saw.

—

Bruno froze, staring at the tablet in front of his eyes. An older Mirabel stood in front of Casita. A series of deep cracks ran all over the building. But, when Bruno tilted the vision plate, it would be changed differently.

For the cheese's sake, what does it mean? His visions were never like this. It was supposed to be one certain future that was set in stone. Not.... Whatever it was.

Papa would be so disappointed. Probably say that Bruno wasn't strong enough and failed to protect her. Part of him was afraid. Of the disappointment. Of facing his dad. Bruno didn't want to get in trouble for this vision.

And what would happen to Mirabel if Pedro knows? Knowing his papa, Bruno couldn't imagine a good reaction. In the best case she would probably be protected so much she wouldn't be able to breathe. But, honestly, Bruno could imagine Pedro just sending Mirabel out of Casita from fear that the building would fall on her.

He didn't want this to happen. It would break Mirabel's heart. It would break everyone. Bruno knew he couldn't tell about it to anyone. Was he a coward? Maybe. But he wasn't ready to show it. He didn't think he ever would.

The green plate shattered against the rock in his vision cave. Shrads of the green glass were scattered around the sand, slowly falling under it.

The hard metallic door creaked behind Bruno.

[mamelukeraza]

My relations with the Duke of Reichstadt (2/?)

Hi guys! Here is the second part for this series! Thanks for anyone who supported the first post! Making content about the King of Rome/Napoleon II always makes me happy and fills my heart with joy. I hope you enjoy it!

The next day, that is to say, June 24, I addressed the following lines to Count Dietrichstein: "I have been pleasantly impressed by the spirit, knowledge and judgment that your august pupil displayed in yesterday's interview; therefore I deeply regret to have neglected in the past the opportunity of an interview that honored and delighted me as much as yesterday's. When we bear such a great name and know from childhood that we are called to such high destinies; when, moreover, we are so well gifted like Your Highness and we live in times similar to our own, it is because Providence has appointed us for great things. Ordinary men, regardless of the rank in which they have been placed by birth, aspire and achieve only ordinary things. But men out of line, and among these I dare to count the eminent student of Your Excellency, they have duties towards society and history, from which they are not allowed to evade. I look forward to the time when I am granted to renew my visit of yesterday, and I desire nothing more ardently than to maintain His Highness in the opinion that he has formed of me and to which our interview the day before, as well as the favorable idea that he was able to conceive the content of some of my military writings, will certainly contribute. only to a small extent. Please accept with my best wishes, etc."

In response to this letter, I received a very friendly invitation for the next morning. This one came across the kindest orders of His Excellency the Emperor, who called me to met him that same morning. On my arrival, I saw so many people waiting in the antechambers that I thought I had the patience to see the duke. We talked to each other with all the grace of people who understand each other. I again expressed my wish to see him claim the throne of Greece, free to set whatever conditions he saw fit. This idea made him smile; but I clearly noticed that his desires and hopes were tending higher, moreover, he was trying to abuse of himself, pretending that he was too young by a few years to wear the Hellenic crown, and seeming to fear that we would not let him rule alone. Then, abruptly, he returned with marked interest to the duties and qualities of the commander-in-chief. His eyes sparkled, his cheeks burned. Count Dietrichstein left us alone for a few moments, and the young prince held me tightly with both hands:

"Speak to me frankly," he exclaimed, "do I have some merit, and am I called to a great future, or is there nothing in me that is worthy of ending up like this? What do you think, what do you hope for my future? What will happen to the son of the great emperor? Will Europe support him in taking some kind of independent position? How do I balance my French duty with my Austrian duty? Yes, if France called me, not the France of anarchy, but the one that has faith in the Imperial principle, I would run to her, and if Europe tried to expel me from my father's throne, I would draw the sword against all Europe. But is there an imperial France today? I don't know! A few isolated voices, a few voices without influence, they cannot carry any weight. Such serious resolutions deserve and require more solid foundations. If my destiny is never to return to France, I seriously wish to become another Prince Eugene for Austria. I love my grandfather; I feel that I am a member of his family, and for Austria I would gladly draw my sword against the whole world, except France."

He spoke to me as one speaks to a confessor, and I received his confidences in the same way. These were projects, of course, very legitimate in themselves and that could only become dangerous in a single hypothesis, the realization of which, in truth, was not at all impossible, but seemed at least very distant. Once again he gave vent to the feelings of filial affection. He said that no one had understood his father; that it was pitiful, that it was slanderous not to give his actions any motive other than ambition; that all his life and all his conduct had been consumed by the great and salutary projects which he had conceived for the happiness of Europe; that Austria, in particular, had ignored him and his own interests; that he had played into the hands of the Russians. The duke added that he wanted nothing more than to earn his spurs by fighting them. He spoke with warmth, but also with that frank and intimate conviction of youth. Then, hearing Count Dietrichstein's voice in the next room, he abruptly changed the subject to address this question to me:

— What memory do you have of my father in Egypt? — The memory of a great figure — I answered. — I understand, if you are talking about Ibrahim, the viceroy; but the populations? They have not yet returned from their surprise; this astonishment, however, has not been followed by any irritation, for the Arabs and the Turks, though they have the same faith, do not get along with each other, and one heavy yoke succeeded another still heavier. — Yes, this is an explanation; but the masses see in a great man only a freak of nature, a meteor that shines for a moment and immediately disappears.

At that moment he exclaimed again: — Oh! If only you stayed with me; but before you, opens a path full of smiling perspectives capable of tempting you. I shook his hand and said; "We'll talk about this later."

And we separated after kissing.

Only three days after this interview, and since in the meantime I had only been able to meet the Duke under unfavorable circumstances, I had a special interview with him that lasted for more than two hours. On the morning of that day, Count Dietrichstein had come to visit me and had complained, with the bad temper of a mother, about the duke's stubbornness and his aversion to any study except military art and mathematics; there wasn't even a german spelling that he didn't want to treat his way.

The count recognized that his student had a good nature, which, however, was hardened by indocility and pride. The duke, to whom I shared, insofar as I thought useful, these reproaches, did full justice to the count, especially to his excellent heart, but in short he praised nothing else in him. He had a definite opinion of his entourage, and he spoke to me frankly and forthrightly about the Emperor and the court, with the accent of an upright heart, but also of self-assured intelligence. He loved his grandfather with a filial love; for from the day he was brought to Vienna as a child, he had found in him the tenderness of a father. He had his ittle corner to play in the Emperor's room, spent half the days by his side, ate with him when the Emperor dined alone, shared with him the pleasures of the resort, finally grew close to him, like a branch grafted onto a foreign stump. He told me all this; but he added that he had not forgotten for a moment whose day he kept and in what place his father's ashes lay. He painted the court for me in colors that were often not very favorable, revealing, being honest, only the nature, the judgment, the heart, the garb of Archduke John. It was impossible for me to dispute the accuracy of his assessments. In many people he thought precisely like me, and, inside him, he did not compromise more than I did.

Like the agitated traveler who sighs after a fountain of living water, he thirsted for information about the situation in Europe. I told him everything I knew and thought. Although in my opinion the fall of Charles X was inevitable, I was far from expecting that it would be soon; as for Louis Philippe and the younger branch, I didn't even think about it.

Rather, I believed in a period of anarchy, out of which the new government would emerge. To whom would this government fall divided? Could it be the Napoleonic party? This point was beyond my judgment. I could give the duke no other advice than to strengthen his judgment by reading the history of past times, in order to appreciate contemporary events; thus learning to distinguish reality and truth from appearances and illusions, above all, meditating on his father's story, realizing the current situation of the world, which contains in germ the near future that will be the result by virtue of the irresistible logic of things; furthermore, to affirm his person in the army and in the diplomatic spheres, to attract to him capable men of great experience, of whom I named several, finally, to enlighten himself by all possible means on the internal situation of France. With a wave of his hand, he indicated his book collection, which contained several hundred volumes. They were historical works and memoirs, all related to the war and his father.

This precious treasure was increasing day by day, to which no obstacle was placed. I promised him that I would choose the best among these works, that I would be a very devoted friend of his and that I would complement with my reflections the observations that the general state of politics would suggest to him; finally I begged him not to confuse legitimate desires with achievable desires, but to never lose sight of them. He was so well trained by his young enthusiasm that he called me his Posa(1). I replied to him: — That's the language of a twenty-year-old. Is there any consistency in this will? That is what, at the moment, it is difficult for me to know.” My defiance seemed to sadden him. He kissed me, telling me: — You're right, I don't deserve you to see in me the son of Napoleon. I comforted him with these words: — Your Posa, yes, but on the condition that you do not imitate don Carlos; I will be for your whole life, and I hope, that it will be a glorious life. He reviewed the entire series of steps to be taken so that, once his military house was established, it could be linked to his person. We had time ahead of us in this regard. He thought he would achieve his ends through his grandfather, the Emperor. I authorized him to do everything he could for this purpose. As for him, he no longer doubted success. (1) Allusion to the tragedy of Schiller Don Carlos.

Source: Mes relations avec le duc de Reichstadt : mémoire posthume / par le comte de Prokesch-Osten,. . . ; traduit de l’allemand [par A. de Prokesch-Osten fils]. (s. f.). Gallica. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k6536278r/f39.item.zoom

[theladyofbloodshed]

Au Acosf - Chapter 86

(the final chapter - hurrah! It's almost 9000 words. There will be a short epilogue coming too)

@a-court-of-valkyries @sv0430 @mis-lil-red @nesquik-arccheron @emily-gsh @sunsetsofanemoia @swankii-art-teacher @moodymelanist @nestaarcher0n @my-fan-side @c-e-d-dreamer @nestaspegasus @champanheandluxxury @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @lyzriel @dustjacketmusings @sugardoll22 @gwynethhberdara @embersofwildfire @witchsouth @faeriebambula @lady-winter-sunrise

A fierce ache had taken up residence in Nesta’s body. With the absence of the Mother inside of her, she felt cold and hollow like parts of her had been emptied out. Cassian kissed her forehead gently, not caring if the pair were filthy and all eyes were upon them.

‘I love you,’ he murmured. ‘So much. So, so much.’

‘You saved me.’

Cassian shook his head and swept her hair from her face with a warm, but bloodied hand. ‘You saved all of us, Nes.’

From the corner of her eye, Nesta saw Mor and Feyre arrive with others. She recognised Madja, their favoured healer from Velaris, along with more who wore similar uniforms. Rhysand must have summoned them the second it was safe to do so.

Although, she wanted to remain in Cassian’s arms, duty called to him. There were bewildered Illyrians and bodies piling up. Her own army – the one of the dead and the dying – had collapsed the moment she took the Mask away. Piles of bones covered the Steppes. He kept his body covering hers, speaking quickly in Illyrian but gesturing to Nesta occasionally then to the Mask at her feet. There were wary faces, some still stark with terror, others were dropping to their knees again murmuring prayers and crossing their hearts at the sight of her.

Roughly, Cassian snatched a sword from the male closest to him and dashed it to the ground. As pained and fatigued as he was, Cassian’s siphons still managed to flare with red light. His wings sprawled out, shielding Nesta entirely. The meaning was clear enough: dare raise a hand to her and Cassian would cut it off.

‘Go,’ Nesta urged Cassian, nodding her head towards the press of Illyrians currently swarming Mor and Rhys, bombarding them with questions. ‘I’ll be fine.’

No sooner had the words left her tongue, was Nesta engulfed in a fierce embrace. Elain’s body crushed against hers, holding her tightly. The sweet scent of jasmine and honey wafted from Elain’s hair. Her body shook against Nesta’s, so she held her younger sister tightly, glad that she could.

‘Rhys showed us what happened. We came as soon as the spell broke,’ Feyre wrung her hands together. The weight of her gaze was heavy as she examined Nesta, searching for injury, searching for a sign that she had been lost to the power of the Dread Trove.

Nesta released one arm from cradling Elain in invitation. Feyre remained on the spot, as if appraising whether the offer was genuine. It fractured part of Nesta’s heart that Feyre doubted she would want her in their embrace.

At the sound of Elain’s crying, their youngest sister joined them. The three sisters stood immobilised for a while, holding onto each other. It had been a difficult road since their mother had died, but now it seemed there was a light in the distance. None of it had been easy, but it could have been better if they’d seen each other as support; if they had held their hands out for each other to help rather than to rot in lonely misery.

‘You’re alright?’

‘All things considered? I will be,’ Nesta decided. She had come too far to break again. ‘We will be.’

Rhys was calling for order, trying to assign healers to those with the gravest injuries. An Illyrian female with thick scars slashing down her wings was being supported by others, so one healer was sent there to tend to her wounds. Baran was calling out for assistance for Lucien although the male tried to wave it away. Eris’ voice, louder and fraught with fear, called for the healer with more urgency.

Nesta’s heart jolted at the sight of Lucien. His skin was ashen, the lower half of the breeches on his left leg was soaked with blood. A deep gash was bleeding too fast. He’d expulsed his magic defending her and Gwyn long before the others had arrived in support.

Before a healer could go to him, Nesta heard the sound of cloth tearing.

Elain was surging forwards, ripping her skirt at the hem. Blood had always made her squeamish. Even a splinter became an ordeal where Elain would wince and yelp before Nesta had even took the tweezers to it. And yet, she pulsed towards Lucien, her gaze never wavering from the wound in his thigh.

She fell to her knees before him. The scrap of material she’d torn from her lavender gown was being wrapped around his leg as tight as she could pull it. Nesta had never seen Elain so determined. She had never seen her sister so unphased by blood before either. Finally, she had a reason to overcome her fear of it.

‘Why isn’t it healing?’ She asked in anguish.

Nesta wondered what Elain could feel down their bond; whether she could feel Lucien fading and the thought of losing him had spurred her into action.

‘My magic is emptied,’ he grimaced as though every word caused him pain – though there was a flicker of mischief returning to his eyes as he watched his mate tending to him. Nesta wondered if Lucien was berating himself for not being injured sooner.

‘Lucien saved my life,’ Nesta said, adding a dash of bravery to his injury. ‘And Azriel’s. Lucien is the hero here.’

‘The healing house. Quickly,’ the healer declared.

Within heartbeats, Mor held onto them both, ready to winnow back to Velaris, but Elain was standing, pulling an arm around Lucien’s back to support him too. Her brown eyes tracked the pain he fought valiantly to hide, the wince with each breath, the way he screwed his eyes shut with each movement.

‘He will be fine,’ Gwyn said, speaking solely to Eris who seemed suddenly bereft without his brother. ‘The healers are very talented. Lucien will be well.’

The Illyrians who were well enough to fly returned themselves to Iron Crest – carrying females with them if they could. Devlon was being summoned from Windhaven to help instil order along with Illyrian healers to help with all minor wounds. They were superstitious about methods that weren’t Illyrian, apparently.

Cassian said over and over that his injuries were minor and wanted to be last on the priorities. Still, he stood keeping a watch on Azriel. The shadows remained cocooning his body, unwilling to let him go yet – despite the Crown’s demise. Talk of locking him in one of the Hewn City’s dungeons never came. Nesta knew that none would ever do that to him – nor would she ever want it either. Her feelings towards the shadowsinger had not changed; she was able to separate Azriel and not-Azriel into two distinct beings. She hoped he wouldn’t carry the burden of what had happened in his heart just as she hoped others would do the same with her, that they’d understand that when she had placed that Mask upon her face, it was to save rather than to damn.

Amongst the chaos of organising the Illyrians and trying to decide what sort of burial should occur to the army of the dead, Nesta had forgotten that Tamlin and Fionn remained a distance away. The general beckoned her over, his blonde hair darkened by sweat.

‘You’ll come to Spring soon?’

‘You want me there?’ Nesta had to ensure that now they had seen her wear that Mask, kill without restraint, that they still wanted to be near her. That she wasn’t to be feared.

‘It would be our pleasure,’ replied Tamlin.

Fionn nodded. ‘Yes. And besides, it’s difficult to find someone to watch the children and you’re great with them.’

‘Oh, so you only want me for my child caring abilities?’

Fionn knocked his elbow into hers, both of them laughing slightly. It would be a joy for Nesta to visit the Spring Court again to see how much Eimear had grown since she last saw the baby and to be chased with frogs by little Nuala. Spring would forever take up space in her heart.

She cleared her throat, cataloguing the injuries carried by the two males. ‘I cannot begin to thank you for coming here. There are no words.’

The rest became lodged in her throat. The events of the morning were beginning to catch up to her and Nesta suppressed her sob.

‘It’s how I feel about all you did for our court. For me. Thank you.’ Tamlin stooped down to place a hesitant kiss on her cheek then Fionn did the same. ‘We’ll take our leave. You can thank Eris for summoning us.’

Fionn chuckled. ‘He’d like to be my namesake one day, I’m sure of it.’

‘Eris Vanserra as high king?’ Tamlin shuddered. ‘I’d prefer Lucien Vans- Spell-Cleaver.’

The two males gave Nesta a further goodbye before winnowing out of sight.

Nesta sought out the High Lady of the Night Court to use her power for her own benefit, for once. ‘Can you take us to the House of Wind?’

The handful of freckles splattered across the bridge of Feyre’s nose stood darker on her pale face. She gave Nesta another sweep with her eyes, mystified how she has escaped with only soot blemishing her skin. Her body had been healed by the power that had swollen inside of her. The deep cuts in her palms that should have shredded tendons had healed entirely without any whisper they had ever happened.

Nesta jerked her chin towards Gwyn. The priestess had been brave for long enough. She had anchored herself to Eris and Adja, using the smokehound as a crutch to navigate this new, frightening world. For her courage to leave the library, for giving Lucien’s story credibility despite how scared she must have been, Nesta would forever be indebted to her.

‘We can return home,’ Nesta said, stroking her hair. Gwyn nodded, her relief easing out with a long exhale.

‘If you wanted, one day, you could visit the Autumn Court with Nesta,’ said Eris. ‘A visit to your paternal lands.’

Gwyn gave a non-committal shrug and stepped closer to Nesta, but her eyes had brightened at the prospect of exploring the world.

‘Eris also has about thirty dogs like Adja to play with if you want better company.’

‘Not thirty.’

‘Not yet.’

Eris laughed, the noise so warm and welcoming, that when he opened his arms, Nesta was happy to sink into them. The pair of them stunk of smoke and sweat, but Nesta did not care. In desperation, she had taken a chance on Eris Vanserra – a snake with no backbone – and it had turned out to be one of the best decisions in her life. Eris had helped to bring her back from the brink with his teasing, his jostling, and his subtle care. He had become a friend, an ally. The Autumn Court was in safe hands with him as its high lord.

‘You will update me on Lucien?’ He murmured against her hair, still holding her tightly.

‘Of course. Perhaps he’d like Elain to tarry a while and tend to his injuries without his brother overseeing.’

‘He’s probably devastated it’s not on his stomach so he can have a reason to be shirtless around her. Still, he can strip off his trousers.’  

‘Careful, that’s my little sister.’

‘And my little brother.’  

From across the Steppes, Nesta could feel Mor’s eyes burning into them, monitoring their entire friendly exchange. There was no future for them – but a conversation still needed to occur. Maybe one day, both Mor and Eris could find closure.

‘You need to teach me that little winnowing skill,’ said Rhysand, appearing beside them, making Gwyn jump. ‘How can you winnow an object?’

‘Autumn Court secret,’ Eris winked. ‘Can’t give away all of our tricks. I’ll teach Gwyn though – us Autumn blooded must stick together.’

‘How did you summon Tamlin so quickly?’

Eris straightened up. He’d removed his armour and it was neatly piled to the side. ‘Lucien shared his doubts and I trusted my brother’s judgement. If he were to winnow me this ring,’ he said, holding out the one Nesta had slipped from Lucien’s finger for him, ‘it was a distress signal. I happened to be meeting Tamlin on the Spring border. You chose an excellent time to be kidnapped, Nesta.’  

Nesta stepped away from the arm slung around her shoulders. ‘Take care, Eris. Thank you for coming. Both of you.’ Baran dipped his chin in answer.

‘What will you do with the shadowsinger?’ At Rhys’ lack of response, Eris continued. ‘I saw him in my woods many times perhaps for Briallyn or her deal with my father. If you could find out, I’d be grateful to know.’

Unable to go yet, Eris pulled Nesta into another embrace. She let her cheek rest upon his shoulder. ‘Stay out of trouble for a while, won’t you? And remember my offer. I’d still like to walk you down the aisle, but if you have a long-dead soldier from a bog who you’d prefer, I suppose I’ll allow it.’

The relief that he still could tease her, that Eris did not fear her, was a rich wave of warmth that spread from her chest through her whole body. Eris had never been afraid of her power. He’d never tried to control it or quench it. He had only ever wanted Nesta to be in control of it. Even seeing her wear the Mask to raise an army and kill an immortal hadn’t altered his view of her.

‘You’d have to wear black.’

Eris winced. ‘Disgusting. Washes out my colour.’

Feyre took Nesta and Gwyn by the hand once the Autumn Court delegate had departed. Rhys had spoken to Eris in private before the latter had winnowed back to the Forest House.

The familiar sight of red stone walls met them. The sconces along the wall flickered upon their arrival as if the house had come alive once it heard the beating of their hearts.

‘I need to go back to Illyria. Will you be-’

‘We can settle ourselves. Please make sure Cassian is seen by a healer. Use your power of high lady if you must.’

They waited until Feyre’s footsteps had faded down the corridor then Gwyn gave a shaky breath. She had spent her life in the confines of a temple then the sanctuary of the library. In her first hours out of it, Lucien had coaxed her to the Illyrian Steppes where she’d witnessed the death of a mortal queen, the demise of an immortal, and saw the Mother take up residence in Nesta’s body as she carved her way through an army – not to mention the numerous new faces she’d been introduced to. All things considered, Gwyn was coping very well.

The priestess’ robes were darkened with soot and a pungent smell of smoke likely rose from both of their garments. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. ‘I should be worried about Azriel – and I am – but I’m exhausted. It’s not even noon and I feel I could sleep until the morning.’

Nesta agreed with that. Her body was flagging more and more. Staying upright was becoming a struggle – something she had to focus on. ‘Would you like to me to walk you back to your rooms?’

The weariness from seeing such terror and being exposed to a life away from the library was etched onto Gwyn’s face. The thought of traipsing down lofty stairwells and through the hushed shelves with curious acolytes watching seemed to drain Gwyn of the last traces of colour.

‘Would you like to rest a while here? There are spare clothes. Baths. Food. It’s only us here.’

When they entered a bedroom, a night gown had already been laid out on the bed for them and Nesta was aware of the faucet turning then the splash of water against the bottom of the basin.  In the room opposite, it was the same. She left Gwyn to wash alone while she went to her bath. For once, Nesta did not fear the bath – she welcomed settling into the hot water, thankful for the heat and comfort it brought to her aching body. Although she had no wounds to speak of, her body still groaned with pleasure as she sank up to her chin.

Nesta managed to summon her strength to walk the few paces across the corridor and drum her knuckles on Gwyneth’s door. The priestess opened it with heavy-lidded eyes and ushered Nesta to the bed. She was sure it had somehow grown larger in size to accommodate them both comfortably, and the house seemed to rumble with pride when Nesta noticed.

It was not at all late in the day. Nesta had many, many things to think about, to worry her and trouble her. But when she settled beside the priestess on the soft mattress, both in fresh nightgowns, their hair damp, her panicking was subdued. A gentle breeze caressed them from the narrow opening of the window. The house seemed to tug one curtain closed to prevent less light spilling in. A sunny day had seized Velaris after such horror. From the heavy breathing of the female whose forehead was inches from her own, Nesta surmised Gwyn had already slipped into sleep. It did not take long for exhaustion to take Nesta either.

***

There would be a time to rest soon, but Illyria needed Cassian. They accepted him more than Mor or even Rhys despite his status.

Only a handful of his people had not yet been returned to Iron Crest. The ones who had died both on the Steppes and in the War Camp would receive a burial by their families. Others were gathered by their tents, healers seeing to injuries, widows had begun cooking over firepits with large, iron pots. Meals were a big part of Illyrian culture; it gave way to healing, to conversation, to gathering together and being one.

It was difficult to see the anguish sweeping across the dull camp. Even the sun breaking through the clouds and bathing them in golden light did nothing to banish the grief settling in. Karius and his son, Kallon, were both deceased. Cassian didn’t know who had killed them, only that their bodies were amongst the piles of the dead. Briallyn and Koschei had swept into Iron Crest – a place that was unsteady and insecure – to seize it for their own. The thought rattled Cassian. The Autumn Court soldiers taken had been a tragedy but not one that he lost sleep over. This was different. This was more personal. They were his people bleeding and weeping for their fallen. His people whose lives had been upturned.

Iron Crest would need a steady hand and constant support, but it meant that there could be a time for change. Hope blossomed in Cassian’s chest like petals unfurling. With the camp lord and his son dead, there was no heir to Iron Crest. A new male would need to be named and perhaps it rang in a dawning of change.

He met Sohail on the fringes of the camp. The male’s wounds had been cleaned either by a healer or his mother. The female was with him, bowing her head slightly at Cassian’s approach but her shrewd eyes had already landed on his weapons, on his limp, the way his hand covered his stomach. The scars slashing through her wings were some of the worst that Cassian had ever seen. They did not solely cut through tendons to suspend flight but through the membrane too from where she had put up a hell of a fight against whichever males had done it to her. There was an unbreakable spirit there that she had likely passed onto her son. When the young male had said that Cassian would not abandon his mother either, Cassian knew then that he was a male worthy of following. He had been glad to fight alongside him that morning.

‘Change is afoot.’

Sohail swallowed. ‘Was it a spell?’

‘Sort of. But it’s over now. Do you have other family here?’

‘Only us.’ The male shifted his body slightly to obscure his mother with his wing.

Cassian nodded. A life not too dissimilar to his own. He hadn’t had a mother, but he’d had Rhysand’s mother who’d treated him as her own.

‘Take care of yourselves. And well done for trusting your instincts.’

Many Illyrians had died that morning, some on the end of his own blade. Others had died when Nesta had placed that Mask on her face. It still did not feel real. Cassian felt as if he’d viewed it through someone else’s eyes. Only the fact that his palm pulsed with pain and his body was heavy as he walked through the camp let him know that it had happened. There would be no repercussions to Nesta. Cassian had ensured that with the feral warning he’d given to his people – Rhys included. If anybody dared put a finger on her, Cassian would chop their hands off. Even now, he wanted to return to Nesta, but she had prioritised his country over her well-being and ushered him back to duty.

Cassian took his time speaking to his people. Listening to their stories of how the Crown had managed to ensnare them all with its trap. It had been a steady-growing web, luring more and more into its thrall. From the sounds of things, Kallon or his father had been one of the first. Perhaps they had been willing, perhaps not. Maybe Azriel, with his unsettled heart, had fallen easily under the Crown’s power. Illyria had been taken advantage of either way. Its people used as pawns for Briallyn’s and Koschei’s games. None of them had memories from the last few weeks. They had lived to serve the Crown and that alone.

‘What the hell are you still doing here?’ Rhys strode forwards, face thunderous. His wings were out, tremoring with each step. ‘You haven’t even seen a healer yet.’

‘I’m alright.’

‘Don’t give me that shit. A strong wind will knock you down. Go to Velaris.’ When Cassian began to argue, Rhys held up a hand. ‘I thought you’d want to be with Nesta. Let’s go back. Madja will try to wake Azriel.’

The shadowsinger had been taken by Madja to the House of Wind where he’d remain unconscious until they knew what to do. Rhys’ words had their desired effect either way. Even if Nesta would wave away his concern, Azriel needed them now too. He’d bear the weight of the Crown heavier than any. The moment Azriel had said he suspected Lucien but had still let him near Nesta, was the moment that Cassian should have realised that it wasn’t his brother. Azriel would never put Nesta in danger. Wouldn’t ever have run the risk of it. Cassian shook his head. They had all failed Azriel by not realising that he wasn’t himself.

‘I’ve summoned Helion to decide what to do with that Mask. He might want to see Lucien too.’

When they returned to the House of Wind, the male was already there listening to Mor and Feyre explain what happened, his eyes agog. Helion had an ankle crossed over his knee, with the Day Court tunic revealing more flesh than Cassian wanted to see. At their arrival, Helion turned. ‘So, Nesta Archeron is a goddess. I’ve always known it.’

Rhys’ face bleached of colour. ‘We don’t know for certain.’

‘Come now, Rhysand. How else would Nesta be able to summon the Mask through wards without ancient blood magic? The Cauldron was the Mother’s long before it passed hands throughout Prythian. The Mother herself created this land and all the life within.’

‘The Dread Trove belongs to the Mother?’

Helion gave a shrug and tipped back against the couch. ‘Everything was created by the Mother’s hand. She exists at creation and destruction. The beginning and the end.’

‘Nesta let a goddess inhabit her body?’

Rhys scrubbed his face with his hands and sat on the arm of the chair. Feyre’s hand moved to caress his back. He replied to Mor, ‘Against an immortal death god, the Mother likely seemed the best choice of attack. What the fuck did she steal from the Cauldron that day?’

‘We thought the Cauldron favoured Elain,’ Mor groaned, ‘and disliked Nesta for what it took. Now it seems, the Mother favours Nesta. My goodness. Remind me never to get on their bad sides.’

‘Our lives haven’t known peace since the Archerons passed over the Wall,’ Helion winked.

There was a cough from the doorway and Madja was peering at them. ‘I’m ready to wake him.’

Helion accompanied them in case his abilities were needed to wake Azriel. Cassian couldn’t help but think his brother would hate waking up to six of them staring at him with wide eyes – especially in his own bedroom. The healer had cleaned his wounds. He was bare from the waist upwards and the inch-deep cut between his shoulder and collar bone was still meshing together, Madja’s magic working to knit the skin. There were shining burns on his body, but the healer assured them they would be gone within a few hours. It appeared that the group on the Steppes had done their best not to harm Azriel at least.

Madja’s magic slithered through the shadows in a shimmer of bronze. One by one, the shadows receded, slipping away from view. It took a handful of minutes for Azriel’s lashes to flutter open. He woke with a bunched brow.

‘Nesta.’

‘Fine. She’s fine.’

His brother’s hazel eyes met his own. It was unusual for Azriel to be so lost for words, but he broke away from their gaze, eyes flickering down to his lap. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘No,’ Rhys cut in sharply. ‘You were under the Crown’s power. It was not you, Az.’

‘I don’t know if I’m safe,’ he admitted. ‘Take me to the Hewn-’

‘If you suggest locking yourself in a dungeon, I will throw you off the roof,’ Cassian warned. He would never condemn his brother to a cell.

It was a busy afternoon. Mor and Rhys hurried back to Iron Crest, refusing to listen to Cassian’s insistence that he could help. Feyre darted to Windhaven to bring Zasha then remained at the House of Wind with him while Helion sat at a table in the private library staring the Mask as if he might be able to figure out a way to remove it purely by looking at it. If Nesta could summon it under the Mother’s instruction, there were no wards in the entire world that would stop it. They had to hope that their lives would be peaceful and there would never be a need for it again - although Briallyn was not the only mortal queen who had crossed their path.

The female herself was fast asleep still, curled on her side with an arm around the priestess who slumbered too when Cassian peeked into the bedroom. Shadows were tucked around the copper-haired female, content to be beside her. That was another story to tell. Feyre and he had whispered in the doorway, wondering who she was to Az.

Azriel preferred to be in his room. Madja said it would be good for him to rest though Cassian knew his brother was ashamed and wallowing in heartbreak that he’d succumbed to the Crown’s influence. For once, he didn’t try to push through injuries and support in Illyria. They gave him privacy although Cassian took frequent walks past his door, hoping that the sound of his footsteps might coax Azriel to join them. It didn’t work.

While he and Feyre tried to cook something between them, a tired Mor returned with Elain and Lucien. The male used crutches to support his weight as he crossed the room, but Elain remained attentive to his needs; her hand frequently flitted to his arm or his back to steady him.

‘Rhys will be back soon then we can all eat together,’ Mor suggested. ‘Where’s Az?’

‘Still in his room.’

Mor pursed her lips but remained in the lounge. The females helped Lucien into the chair then Elain ensured his leg was elevated with a pouffe.

‘It was cut as deep as the bone,’ she said, reaching for a blanket to tuck around him. ‘The healer said he’s lucky he didn’t bleed out.’

Nobody dared disturb the moment of Elain not-recoiling from Lucien. Though the male was pale and drawn still, each time Elain turned her face from his, Cassian caught the content smile spreading over his face. Lucien was thoroughly enjoying being tended to by his mate.

‘Hello Lucien.’

Helion had departed from the modest private library and braced himself in the doorway of the lounge. His eyes snagged on the bandage wrapping around his son’s leg. He took a step forwards.

A fist kneaded Cassian’s back. Mor was shoving him and Feyre towards the kitchen, forcing them out of the room. No, Cassian supposed, this was not a conversation that required an audience.

Feyre turned back to the stove where they had successfully burnt every dish while greeting Lucien and Elain. ‘We need Nuala and Cerridwen.’

Summoned by their name, the wraiths appeared and began scraping the charred food from pans and starting anew.

‘Stop listening,’ Mor hissed, and swiped at Cassian’s arm.

He hadn’t been particularly eavesdropping, but he had stood as close as he could to the door just in case any words travelled to him. He did not envy either male for the conversation about to unfold – or Elain who seemed resolute in her decision to stay by Lucien’s side while he was injured.

‘Anybody else have any secrets they’d like to share?’ Feyre joked as she hoisted herself up onto the kitchen side. She rummaged on the highest shelves for something to drink.

Cassian risked a glance to Mor. There was too much written on his face, too much for Mor to read. He hadn’t managed to mask his guilt quick enough. Her own face drained of colour. Yes, he knew she had a mate. Yes, he knew exactly who it was. Mor shook her head slightly, brown eyes welling with tears, begging him not to reveal the secret she’d fought to bury for five centuries. Because he loved her, she could keep the secret – but he wished Mor knew that they loved her no matter what. And part of him wished she understood that Eris had worn his own masks, played his own games, and being his mate was nothing shameful – nor anything Mor could influence. One day, they’d have that conversation.

‘Yes,’ Cassian announced. ‘Rhys keeps his best wine in the library below with Clotho guarding it.’

The brief reprise while Feyre went on a hunt for wine allowed Mor the chance to recover – though she made an excuse to depart from the kitchen. Being privy to Lucien and Helion’s awkward exchange seemed preferable to facing Cassian and speaking about mates.

Lucien spoke cordially to Helion. The latter was sat on the edge of the pouffe, beside his son’s foot, asking general questions about his life in the mortal lands. They had three hundred years of history to catch up on. It wasn’t as hesitant or awkward as Cassian expected; Lucien could make friends wherever he went – and Helion could charm anybody. It was likely a paternal trait.

Elain sat close to Lucien, but not quite touching. However, the female did find reasons to interact with him – to fluff the pillow behind his back, to pass him his drink, to adjust the blanket over his lap.

Once Rhys returned, they gathered in the lounge. Illyria would be fine for a couple of hours, he reassured them.

It had been a strange, drawn-out day. Through Rhys and Feyre’s daemati powers, Lucien turned over his memories that showed Azriel’s slight differences – the ones they had all unfortunately missed – and how he began to suspect the shadow singer. One was of Eris stood in a balcony at the Forest House, peering out towards the trees, stating that he’d found Azriel again in his woods. There had been no order for him to be there and if their courts were not so distrustful of the other then maybe it could have been realised sooner. Another showed Eris in a moment of fury brandishing a bare arm to Lucien, demanding he return to the Night Court and persuade Nesta to make a new deal with him for her protection. The moment Lucien had discovered that Azriel had Nesta in his care, he had acted swiftly, deciding to beg the priestess to come with him rather than forcing the others to listen to his accusation.

‘I won’t comment on who I think she is or what she is to Azriel,’ Lucien said as he crossed towards the table on his crutches, ‘but when Nesta discovered that Azriel wasn’t speaking to Gwyn, she was irate. I’d never seen her speak to gruffly to him, so I surmised she is important to Azriel. I pieced everything together. There was no time to try to persuade everybody here.’

Lucien had done what he believed to be right – and in truth, Cassian likely would have struggled to believe his story. In a subdued silence, they remained at the table. Cassian would never be able to thank Lucien for the risk he took and the protection he gave to Nesta. The priestess too, for leaving her sanctuary and following the shadows to Azriel. There were no words to convey his gratitude that his mate was still here, still safe, thanks to Lucien’s quick thinking.

‘You saved my sister,’ Elain said in awe. Her eyes had been opened today, as if she was seeing Lucien and his goodness for the first time.

‘What do we do with the Mask, Helion?’

The high lord of the Day Court tore his gaze away from his son and pondered the question. ‘If Nesta allows the Mother to inhabit her whenever the goddess sees fit, it doesn’t seem to matter what we do with that Mask – or the Harp. Nesta will always be able to summon it.’ Helion brushed a hand through his dark hair. ‘For now, perhaps the Prison. Separate the two items, Rhysand, I hate to think of them convening with each other.’

‘Let’s hope none of us need divine intervention again,’ Elain said briskly.

When the wraiths had finished cooking, delicious aromas filled the corridors, drawing Nesta from her sleep. Her arrival was announced with a bang of the door against the wall.

‘That is the most annoying dog in history,’ Nesta declared. Her hair was askew, lines creased her face where she’d slept. She didn’t seem to care that she wore a nightgown either. ‘He takes up the whole bed and snores in your ear.’

‘Sounds like Cass,’ Rhys winked.

‘How often have you shared the bed with him?’ Feyre teased.

‘Will you two handsome males indulge me in stories of nights you’ve spent warming each other’s bodies?’

At Helion’s words, Lucien choked on a mouthful of wine. Despite a lack of blood, his cheeks still managed to heat. It wasn’t just three hundred years of Lucien’s life that needed to be catalogued, but Helion’s too.

‘This is Gwyn,’ Nesta explained as the shy priestess peered around the doorway. Zasha was at her side, trying to snap at the shadows that were teasing him. One spiralled around Gwyn’s body then swooped over Zasha’s head.

‘I’m in my nightie,’ she whispered to Nesta.

‘As am I. It’s of no consequence. You need to eat, Gwyneth. We’ve slept the day away.’ Nesta held out a hand for Gwyn which she reluctantly took. Lucien nodded his head in their direction and the priestess smiled softly to him.  

Nesta positioned the acolyte between Lucien and herself, stopping to kiss Cassian’s forehead on the way to the vacant chairs.

A sheet of copper hair fell past her shoulders. She used it to try and hide part of her freckled face. Perhaps noticing the silence or the way everybody had turned to examine Gwyn, Nesta snapped, ‘Will you stop staring at her?’

The irritation laced her tone and Mor braced her hands on the arms of the chair. Even Feyre had taken a sharp inhale. Nesta only glanced around the table.

‘You are all acting as if I am about to smite you.’

‘It’s a possibility now,’ muttered Mor.

Nesta stretched her neck from side to side, easing out the ache from her nap. ‘Then do your best to stay on my good side.’

A long silence was drawn out around the table. Cassian was surprised to see the priestess suppressing a smile.

Rhys clapped his hands together. ‘Well, Nesta. If I wasn’t scared of you before, I’m fucking terrified now.’

Finally, laughter rang out across the table. It was as if the room sighed in relief too, the tension bleeding away. They began helping themselves to the array of dishes laid out on the table and Rhys personally poured wine for all gathered.

‘Where is Azriel?’

‘In his room. He’s quite downcast.’

Nesta narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t leave him alone.’

‘He wants to be alone,’ Cassian clarified.  

‘I don’t care what he wants. I wanted to be left alone – and I was for months at my lowest. Just because you want it, it doesn’t mean you need it or that it’s good for you.’

Nesta’s chair clattered as it fell forwards into the table. She strode like a queen past them all, making a beeline for Azriel’s room down the corridor.

***

Nesta rapped her knuckles hard on the wooden door. She counted to five before repeating her action. Azriel liked privacy. But at this moment, he needed his family and needed to know that he was loved.

The door wasn’t locked. Nesta swung it open, revealing the shadowsinger sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. He didn’t turn at her approach, didn’t so much as respond. He likely had tracked all of the noise right from the dining room – he never missed anything.

Nesta took a seat beside him on the bed. Her arm brushed against his.

After the war, she had wanted to be alone. Or at least, she thought she wanted that. She did at first. Then she craved company. Craved someone to love her and protect her, but she was too proud and scared to ask for help. So Nesta had drowned in loneliness and heartbreak until she felt nothing at all. Every night became a challenge of how much she could drink to block out her thoughts, of how many males she could take to her bed and not feel disgusted about how little she cared for herself. Being alone solved nothing. It had made everything worse.

Azriel had not let her be alone. Azriel had found her staggering on the streets of Velaris then taken her to his mother’s house. He had trusted Nesta with the most important female in his life, because he had seen how broken she was.

Her arms slipped around his body, drawing him closer to her.

‘I’m so sorry this happened to you. Nobody is blaming you.’

Azriel remained stiff. ‘I could have killed you.’

‘And I could have died months ago in Velaris without your intervention.’

Nesta lifted his head, forcing the shadowsinger to look at her. There was such hopeless despair rooted in his hazel eyes. Azriel showed his love in deeds, by showing to his family that he was useful. Nesta made him look at her still.

‘The Crown made you do those things, Azriel. It was you who saved me and took me to your mother. You who saved Gwyn in Sangravah. You who rescued Elain from Hybern’s camp. You who have saved so many others.’

‘I don’t remember anything,’ he said, voice fragile. ‘I don’t remember weeks and weeks.’

‘You were fighting to get out,’ she said, still holding on him. ‘You fought against yourself so that you wouldn’t hurt me. Azriel, there is nothing to forgive. It was not you. Please, come and eat with us. Don’t be alone here. No good can come of it.’

The male shook his dark hair and relinquished his hands from her grip.

‘I left the library for you, shadowsinger.’ Gwyn stood in his doorway. Shadows skittered from her towards Azriel with excitement. They were not things he could control, Nesta realised, but creatures whose moods could be read. One shadow ruffled through Azriel’s hair, desperate to be close to him again. ‘The least you could do is eat dinner with us.’

Azriel barely breathed as he gazed upon the pretty priestess stood in the House of Wind. Her nightgown went to her ankles and the sleeves were full. Her copper hair was unbound and shining, her freckles like constellations in a night sky illuminating her large, teal eyes.

Nesta placed a hand on Azriel’s chest. ‘Just so you know, Gwyn loves me more. She stabbed you to save me.’

The priestess blushed. ‘It was only once and not too deep.’

Azriel touched the wound on his shoulder where Truth-Teller had sunk into his skin. ‘Who taught you to use a weapon, Berdara?’

‘Nobody taught me – it’s why you’re still alive.’

Azriel chuckled. The sound of it made Nesta breathe a sigh of relief. His shadows were content to lounge on his shoulder, watching the exchange between the pair of them.

‘Come and eat. Or will you really leave Gwyn to face your family alone? Helion is also here. What did he call you, Gwyn? An absolute delight?’

The shadowsinger shot to his feet suddenly at the mention of Helion. The threat of Helion’s charm worked just as Nesta expected it to.

Nesta departed the bedroom to give them a brief moment of privacy. As she passed, she heard Azriel’s murmur asking if Gwyn was hurt, if he had hurt her. Something swelled in her chest when she saw the joy blooming on both Azriel and Gwyneth’s faces.

For a few days, they remained at the House of Wind. Illyria was in a state of flux that required all hands-on-deck. Nesta was content to lounge around the private library when she was alone or sometimes, she would meet Gwyn in the larger one downstairs just to chat. The priestess had become a friend quickly. Nearly dying together against a mindless army had a way of bonding them.  

Cassian was busy in Iron Crest along with the others. He often took Zasha with him just to give the smokehound a run around on the hills rather than being cooped up on the roof.

Azriel was healing. There were wounds that none could see, but he tried not to default to privacy. Most evenings, he’d descend to the library to talk to Gwyn – sometimes the three of them would sit together in an alcove whispering. Cassian had assured Azriel that he trusted him near Nesta so he had taken Nesta to visit his mother for the dinner they had promised Rovena. With word travelling quickly, she had probed them both on what had happened on the Steppes. They kept his submission to the Crown from their stories, not wanting to horrify Rovena. Small steps would help the male realise that none blamed him, and he hadn’t changed in their view.  

Lucien remained recovering at the river house. Daily, he took a walk in Velaris on crutches with Elain escorting him. Soon, he’d be able to bear weight on the leg again, and Nesta had little doubt that her sister would be with Lucien every step of the way.

A wing was curled around Nesta in bed so she trailed a finger slowly along the bone running through it until Cassian flickered open his eyes.

‘You alright?’

She smoothed a thumb down his cheek. ‘We never went to the hot springs.’

He let out a sleepy chuckle and kissed her neck. His body was delightfully warm and inviting as his arm slunk around her waist. ‘There were other things happening last week, Nes.’

It was still dark outside, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. Hues of violet and green were bleeding into the sky as if ink was being washed away from a canvas.

‘Can we go?’

Cassian seemed to realise that Nesta was not in a sleeping mood, so shifted himself onto his side, yawning. ‘Where? The Springs? Now?’

Nesta kissed his forehead, savouring the touch of his skin. ‘We’ve hardly had a minute alone.’

They had both been busy – Cassian more so, with trying to smooth the shaky ground of Iron Crest. Thankfully, others had understood that Briallyn had controlled an entire camp, but the country still felt the wound of losing so many. Relinquishing undeserved siphons seemed to be a big hurdle too. Change always brought about unexpected challenges.

Helion made frequent appearances to speak with Lucien – the male was determined to forge a bond with his son. Lucien had been inundated with lavish gifts and offers of visiting the Day Court, so Nesta had the feeling he would play on his injury a little longer to delay the oncoming change in his own life.

When Helion allowed Lucien out of his sight, he’d quiz Nesta on how it had been to wear the Mask. It seemed that she was the only person who had worn it twice – and lived to tell the tale. The high lord had left no stone unturned, bombarding her with questions that he diligently recorded in a ledger for his vast library. When it came to describing how it felt to be a vessel for the Mother, Nesta’s words came sparsely. It had been an overwhelming feeling of goodness, of being loved and treasured. The Mask had felt possessive, wanting Nesta for its own, but the Mother had cherished her like it did all things she had created.

‘And she gave you a choice?’

‘Yes,’ Nesta said, furrowing her brow. ‘I wanted to continue with the Mask to… to peace and eternity, but Cassian’s voice halted me. She let me choose whether to remain on my path or to return to him.’

The male smiled fondly, recording it all. Perhaps Helion was the most dangerous of all high lords, not for his charm or power, but for the knowledge he amassed.

‘A lucky male.’

‘I’m the lucky one,’ Nesta had countered.

Cassian was gone most days, coming back late and others would always join them for dinner. Sometimes he brought Emerie with him or Balthazar as well. Other times just Feyre and Rhys would make an appearance. Once, Gwyn bolstered her courage and joined the four of them for a quiet dinner where she was mobbed by Zasha and shadows. If Azriel didn’t eat with them then it meant he was still in the library with her.

By the time Nesta and Cassian slipped into bed most nights, they were too exhausted to speak let alone touch each other.

Nesta did not think Cassian would ever deny her anything. A soft smile or a delicate caress and he’d change the world for her. Despite his eyes still being heavy and the sheets warm and welcoming, Cassian tossed back the covers then swung his legs onto the floor.

‘You’ll run the risk of being spotted naked in the day light,’ he warned.

‘I have a big bat to shield me,’ she murmured, kissing him.

Cassian leapt off the roof, clinging to Nesta tightly as her stomach dropped from the plummet, then his wings spread out and they soared towards Illyria. It was still something magnificent to behold how Cassian was able to fly without a map as if Illyria always beckoned him home. Nesta was itching to be back in their cabin too. She missed being able to walk to the village and see the children or to languish in Emerie’s store together. Velaris was fine. Fine for a day or two. There were too many people, too much noise and bustle. Nesta missed the call of the mountains, the wind that rattled through them. She missed the narrow streams that weaved through the bracken-covered hills.

The gathering light filtered across the springs. They were nothing like Nesta expected. She imagined something similar to the Day Court oasis; a sole pool shrouded by stone or sand. They had flown to the northern-most coast of Illyria where shelves were cut into the white stone mountain. Brilliant blue pools gathered on different levels with steam rising from each. It almost looked frozen, the white stone was so pure. Nesta’s breath caught in her chest when Cassian set her down.

‘It’s beautiful.’

Cassian smiled sheepishly. ‘The camp I was born in is a stone’s throw from here.’

‘You’re a northern boy.’

‘They say Illyrians from the north have the hardest armour and the warmest hearts – because it gets so cold in winter.’

Nesta agreed with that statement. She settled their bag down on a dry edge, still utterly struck by the beauty of the springs. She tugged the hem of Cassian’s shirt. ‘You go first to check it’s safe. And because you have no qualms about getting naked in public.’

Cassian shucked off his boots first then his shirt on top in a rough pile. ‘By the time I was a century old, I think everybody in Velaris had seen me naked. We did a lot of stupid dares when we were younger.’

‘And you flashed people?’

‘No!’ He protested, offended by the accusation. ‘Just had to fly to Illyria and back in the nude.’

‘Well, that’s far more reasonable.’  

Only a pale scar remained on his stomach from the injury received in Iron Crest. His palms still had deep-set scars too, but healers said in a few weeks the injuries would be gone. Nesta knew it was the truth; half of his innards had been spilling out from battle before but there was no mark upon his body now.

Appreciatively, she watched as his strong body sunk into the water. Standing, the water level was slightly higher than his naval. Cassian’s wings stretched out and he let out a low groan of satisfaction with the movement.

The sun was rising, casting the steaming water in golden light as if it were aflame. It was a good decision to come here today – to be with Cassian to watch a sunrise.

‘You coming in?’

‘A moment,’ she asked.

Her hands had begun to tremble as she unbuckled their bag. Yesterday had been spent preparing for today. It was why she had barely slept a moment.

She laid out two towels for when they had finished in the water then slowly removed her clothes. To keep her hands busy, Nesta folded them neatly then did the same to Cassian’s heap.

‘Nes, you alright?’

The beat of her heart shook her whole body. Nesta slipped into the water, ensuring the carefully wrapped package in her hand didn’t receive a soaking. It had been a combination of trial and error during times when she was home alone. Rovena’s advice had saved her; she’d practised them in the kitchen with her on the night Azriel had taken her there for dinner. Azriel hadn’t said anything about it, but she knew he had an inkling of Nesta’s plan.

Nesta presented Cassian with a package.

‘What’s this?’

‘Open it.’

Beneath the paper was a number of pastries formed into triangular shapes. The pastry was flaky – and the hardest bit to master. It needed to be worked quickly and kneaded until it was paper-thin. Much of it had been thrown in the bin in anger. Some of the pastries contained simple combinations of spinach and creamed cheese. Others had seasoned lamb and potatoes. It was an Illyrian staple with no real recipe; a food all females were taught to make by their mothers or grandmothers.

‘Who made these? Rovena?’

Nesta shook her head. ‘I made them. For you.’ She took a long, steadying breath. Cassian was cradling the food in his hands like it was a baby. ‘I want to be your wife, but I also want to be your mate. Officially.’

‘My mate,’ he whispered.

‘We could combine a wedding with a mating ceremony. My tradition and yours tied together.’

Nesta held her breath as Cassian took a bite of the first. Although it was the symbolic act of presenting food that was most important, she still hoped they at least were edible. His face broke into a wide grin then he devoured one then another.

‘Best breakfast I’ve ever had,’ he declared, reaching for another.

They stood together in the water as the sun continued to rise further into the sky. In the distance was the remnants of a previous camp. Nesta traced the tattoos carved into Cassian’s skin, golden-brown in the morning sun. For a little, unwanted boy who came from that camp, he had achieved incredible things, lived a life one could only dream of. And the next chapter was beginning. Nesta would be by his side through it all.

‘Do you want a forever with me?’

Cassian kissed her slowly. It was a kiss that unravelled Nesta, so full of love and desire. She would never doubt his heart.

‘Nes, I don’t think forever will even be enough time with you.’

[solopostings]

The King and the Mage.

“Do I have to go?” Ravii clicked his tongue as he stood in front of the mirror. Dima – his right-hand man; his Sword – fixed up his cape. It was lighter than he was used to since Isla was a much, much warmer kingdom than Glacia. The young King hated wearing such light clothing ... but he had to do it.  

“You must go as the new king of Glacia. Make some sort of peace offering. Join the festivities and look... good.” Dima sighed. He, too, hated going there. But it was to make Glacia look good, after all. 

Ravii waved Dima away, fixing his own outfit. Taking a step away from the mirror he spun around, holding his arms out. 

“How do I look? Be honest with me, Dima.” Ravii grumbled, he was very much out of his comfort zone in this outfit. 

“... you look great.” Dima places his hands behind his back, scanning up and down. “Different, but good.” 

“Good enough. Let’s get this festival over with.” 

The Glacian walked past Dima, leading the way. Dima immediately followed behind him. Walking out into the streets of Isla. 

Just as Glacia in its own way – music was everywhere. The dance and music were different, but overall, it was still something Ravii enjoyed. This festival was meant for The Oracle. It was his birthday, one of the biggest events of the entire kingdom of Isla. 

The King of Isla, Amir Zaquatis, invited King Ravii to join in the festivities. Perhaps the last act of peace he could manage after the death of the late King and Queen. 

Everyone cheered when the royal Zaquatis siblings walked into the main square. The youngest son, Salem Zaquatis, waved at the crowd and eyed Ravii from where he stood. 

“Let us not forget our guest... the King of Glacia himself, Ravii Dominis.” Salem gracefully motions his hand, making the crowd all look at the Glacian.  

Ravii blinked. Unable to make a good move with such a callout. Of course he would put the spotlight on him. He didn't want to be noticed here at all. 

All Ravii could do in return was bow slightly with a nod. 

“Well, let’s not just stand there... start the music!” Layla – the second oldest royal sibling – clapped her hands. With a pink mist flowing around the square, a giant explosion of pink and gold appeared. Revealing a bunch of mage dancers – Layla's personal crew to dance and perform with.  

Some began to sing along with the princess of Isla. Bards and other townsfolk played music on instruments to play along with their singing and dancing. 

Ravii stood with the crowd who only watched. Dima behind him just in case of some secret attack – who knew what would happen. They were in enemy territory whether they liked it or not. 

Layla’s dancers began to pull some people that were in the crown into the main square. Making them dance along to the music. A smaller, blue haired woman dressed in pink and green made her way to Ravii.  

She held out her hand to him, gently smiling at him. She looked like a little fairy compared to how giant the Glacian was. 

“You’re making a mistake.” Ravii cackled, moving his head away, “There are better people to choose from here.” 

“I heard you’re quite the dancer, Your Majesty.” the woman replied, her hand still out for him to take.  

Crossing his arms, he glanced up at Dima. In return he only shrugged his shoulders, “... you should have some fun, Your Majesty. That’s why you’re here...” 

Ravii sighed, rolling his eyes and took the woman’s hand, “Okay, fine. Just one dance.” 

The dancer smiled brightly, holding his hand tightly as she brought him into the middle of the dancing people. 

The Zaquatis siblings immediately eyed the Glacian when seeing him of all people dancing along. Valerian – the third oldest – glanced at Layla. Sharing the glance, she smirked. Her song was upbeat in Islean tongue. 

Salem sat back, smiling and laughing as he clapped along the beat. He was good at dancing himself, however... he was keeping an eye on that Ice King. 

The whole Kingdom had their eyes on the Glacian and that one dancer. 

“My name is Rhea, by the way.” The dancer spoke while they were closer together, “Zahira. Rhea Zahira.” 

Ravii spun her around, easily keeping pace to her dancing. Letting her draw away, they did not draw their eyes away from each other. Locked on.  

“You know who I am already.” Ravii chuckled softly as he motioned around her, holding out his hand for her to take.  

“I’d still like you to proper introduce yourself to me.” Rhea mused as she took his hand, “I’ve never met you before, how would I know who you are?” 

He laughed in return, pulling her close to him as he took both her hands, “Ravii Dominis. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rhea Zahira.” 

Dima watched them from where he stood, his eyes slowly widening a bit. He had never seen his King smile this long and laugh. 

. . . He was laughing. He was happy. 

As the song ended, Layla stopped singing and twirled her finger. A slower melody began to play, and she went to sit down with her siblings. 

Sahel – the oldest Zquatis sibling – leaned over, whispering in Layla’s ear as he glared at Ravii. 

“Who is the girl? She is a part of your damn crew.” 

Layla hums as she twirled the hair that dangled over her face with her finger, “I think that is my newest recruit. She has incredible magic, she used to be a priestess or something like that.” 

Layla turned her head to look at Sahel, “Why are you asking?” 

The older sibling huffed, leaning back in his seat, “She’s flirting with the Ice King. How is it your useless magic did nothing, but this random person...” 

“Hey!” Layla huffed, “My magic has limitations, it’s not useless.” 

“I don’t like how he is smiling back at her.” Valerian mutters under his breath, glaring at Rhea. “Can you fire her?” 

“Boys, boys...” Layla smacked Valerian’s and Sahel’s shoulder as she leans forward, “... We know better than anyone how strict Glacia’s rules are. They can’t go anywhere anyway. She’s just a magician. A dancer. No royal blood in her. Don’t worry about a thing.” 

Salem watched silently. Not blinking whatsoever. His cheek rested on his palm as his legs were crossed. Gently kicking his dangling foot to the music. 

Everyone saw two people dancing. He witnessed two souls burning brightly. Never in his life has he seen such a phenomenon. They out brightened the entire kingdom with their souls alone. 

... Interesting, Salem thought to himself.  

Is that what souls look like while they are in love? 

The music ended and the people cheered for the two lone dancers taking the spotlight. Ravii and Rhea held hands and bowed to the crowd. Finally letting go, the two shared one last glance and walked back to their spots. 

Dima coughed, clearing his throat as he looked back at Ravii, “One dance.” 

Ravii clicked his tongue as he crossed his arms, “I haven’t gotten to dance in quite some time, Dima. The winter festival is only once a year.” 

The Glacian glanced at the people, then began eyeing Rhea once again as she was speaking to another person. Taking a deep breath, he narrowed his eyes away. 

If only he could dance with her alone.

Just one dance. That’s all he wanted. 

The festivities continued throughout the entire day, people making their prayers and blessing towards the Oracle. Rhea stood in front of a statue of the Oracle by herself. Her hands cupped together as she held her head down. 

Finally, Ravii thought.

Ravii walked beside her, looking up at the statue of Salem. Personally, he hated it. He loathed Salem, hated the entire family... but he would behave. Keeping his mouth shut for the sake of "peace."

“You danced beautifully. No one has ever been able to keep up with me like that.” Ravii spoke up softly. Rhea gasped, flinching at his sudden presence.  

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Ravii frowns as he looks down at her.  

She shook her head, laughing a bit, “No, it’s okay... I was so focused on my prayers to our Oracle.” Turning her head to look up at Ravii, she smiled gently.  

“You’re fun to dance with... I’m glad you joined me.” Rhea began to walk away from the statue, motioning her head to make Ravii follow her.  

Without any hesitation, the Glacian King followed her down an alleyway. More music was playing even in the alley, Rhea took Ravii’s hand and dragged him along. 

There they danced without the kingdom’s eyes on them until nightfall. Sneaking away further and further away from the people. 

Talking on equal terms, learning about one another. His smile never left the entire time, listening to all her stories, her tales. Her likes and dislikes. How she came to be one of the mages for Layla herself. 

After hours, Dima spots the silhouette of the Glacian. He began to panic seeing he had lost the King within mere moments hours ago.

... however, when he drew closer to the shore of this isle, he paused. 

There he was; the King and the woman he danced with before sitting by the shore, hand in hand. Their heads resting against each other. 

Dima took a step back and grinned.

Leaving the two alone. 

[demonprincezeldris]

Imagine that surprise, though. They’re completely unaware of what the other is planning. Meliodas and Zeldris each in their separate chambers, packing a single bag of things to bring. Some clothes, some keepsakes (Zeldris packing a hellhound plushie Meliodas had gotten him as a toddler, that he’d kept hidden for decades at this point.) And a few weapons, of course.

They sneak out of the castle, somehow not noticing as they take parallel routes to the underkept, isolated portal on the far side of the underworld. Honestly, the only reason they weren’t on the same path was because Zeldris took the longer one that loops through Vampire territory to pick up Gelda.

Then they both walk into the overgrown clearing at the same time, freezing mid step and staring at the other, rapid fire registering the bags resting over their shoulders, the location, and the timing.

“M-Meliodas! What are you doing here??”

“...I could ask you the same thing.”

“...”

“...You’re leaving. Aren’t you?”

“...Yes. And… You’re…?”

“Also leaving, yes.”

“Wh… Where?”

“...Stigma. Elizabeth invited me. I’ll be joining her there.”

“STIGMA-!? I- Elizabeth-? Oh- I- Uh-”

Gelda clears her throat. “We are ALSO on our way to Stigma. Arthur invited us.”

“What she said.”

Meliodas nodded slowly, and Zeldris was startled to see him almost hesitant as he lifted a wavering hand. He just stared for a moment when he held it out. “Then. We should. Go together?” Stunned silence, almost gaping at the hand, at the fact that his unshakeable older brother was NERVOUS. Then Gelda jabbed an elbow in the side and he jolted out of it, almost diving forward to accept the gesture and shake firmly.

They slipped through the portal together and began the trek across Brittania. It was still night time out, thankfully. Gelda, both having fire as her magic, and having fed from a demigod, would not die upon being exposed to the sun. BUT it was incredibly draining to be in, and she’d get a nasty sunburn. Like. Sun Poisoning level sunburn.

They slipped into the forest, honestly surprised they hadn't met resistance yet, and glancing at each other, shifting a little bit closer, instinct to guard each other's back. Then Zeldris was tackled.

(Meliodas: A surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?

Arthur: Zeldris!!!!!

Meliodas: There it is.)

Meliodas whirls around on him, sword drawn and snarling, but he pauses. The goddess was hugging Zeldris tightly and rubbing his face over his hair, and though Zeldris squirmed, embarrassed, he made no real move to break away. Arthur finally looked up and blinked. "Who's this?"

"This is my elder brother, Meliodas."

"Oh! A pleasure to meet you then, Meliodas! I feel like I've heard that name before… oh, I won't worry about it. Come on then, this way!"

He started to usher them towards camp, and Meliodas half reluctantly sheathed his sword. They had entered the main area, and the brothers scanned over the crowd warily, the people doing double takes a few gasping with fright.

"Meliodas!!" He looked up, bristling a little in alarm as he himself was tackled by a goddess. Unlike his brother, he did manage to stay upright when he caught her. Barely. He did stumble back a bit before balancing. "Elizabeth." He half breathed out, relaxing just a little bit and tightening his grip around her waist. "Hello."

She was beaming, and pulled back to hold his shoulders, radiating happiness. "You came! And you brought your brother too!"

"He brought himself. This was entirely coincidental."

"How funny. Arthur's fault?"

He hummed and she giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, causing blood to rush into his face. She grabbed his hand and dragged him along, the poor demon still looking a little shell-shocked. Zeldris squeezed a little tighter on Gelda's hand, shifting closer to her protectively as Arthur guided them in. Arthur and Elizabeth where rambling to one another, but quieted as they got closer to the base.

The base where the archangels were waiting.

"Princess Elizabeth." Ludociel drawled. "And Sir Arthur. I do hope you have a good explanation for bringing demons into this land."

"Course we do!" Arthur said with a grin, throwing an arm over a mildly startled Zeldris. "They've come to join Stigma!" Muffled gasps rang around and the brothers, once again, shuffled closer to one another. Ludociel scowled. "That's impossible! As if the sons of the Demon King would ever do that! This is a trick!"

"Sons of the… Demon King…?" Arthur said slowly, blinking. "Ohhh… That actually makes a lot of sense." Gelda snickered, shoulders shaking as she saw Zeldris giving him an almost OFFENDED look. "You mean to tell me you didn't know?"

"Well, you never told me!"

"...Arthur… You're a dumbass."

Gelda erupted in laughter, quickly reigning herself back in. Arthur just looked a little miffed, and Meliodas stepped forward.

"Archangel Ludociel. I understand your wariness, I would do the same in your position. However much I dislike you, I am doing this for the good of my people. They are hurting, and the war needs to end. If I need to betray them to stop the fighting, then so be it. THAT is why my brother and I are here." A quick glance at Zeldris, who gave a firm nod, confirmed that. Ludociel narrowed his eyes. "Say I believe you. Who's THAT? For the matter, WHAT'S that? It doesn't feel quite like a demon." Zeldris bristled at the flippant addressal of his mate, but Gelda remained passive, tilting her head a little.

"This is Princess Gelda of the Vampire Clan. Vampire's are a subservient, cousin clan to the demon's who rarely leave the underworld. Much like the Celestials are to the goddesses. She is Zeldris’s lover, and thus, came with us."

They argued back and forth, Ludociel getting more and more hostile, while Meliodas kept himself as calm, poised, and unthreatening as possible. Zeldris took up the same stance next to his brother, both of them maintaining they meant no harm, and only wanted peace for the clans.

Eventually, he gave in. They'd be permitted to stay, but nothing would be accommodated for them. They agreed, and their two goddesses ushered them away, finally. Elizabeth joyously spun him around in the air as he let out a, frankly undignified, yelp, but laughed and hugged her back. He turned to his brother, smile softening. "I'll ask my daughter if she can make something to help Gelda with the sun. I'm sure she can."

"Thank you- Daughter??" It took him a minute to process that point as Meliodas laughed, already retreating. "No- Meliodas- I HAVE A NIECE?? COME BACK HERE AND EXPLAIN!!!"

Arthur expected quite some hostility from Ludociel at the thought of bringing Demons into their camp, let alone a Vampire. They're fighting against the two races for the gods' sake!

He quickly led them to his tent, a ways away from the main group. The two sat on Arthur's bed as he looked out at the forest. "You both can stay here for now. I'll let Meliodas know where you are, so his daughter can give Gelda the sunscreen she needs." I'm going to try and find you some food. You must be hungry.

"Famished.Thank you, Arthur," Gelda said, smiling at him.

Zeldris was still in shock. "I have a neice."

Arthur snickered at Zeldris' shock. "Let me know if you need anything else. And maybe tonight we can go and try to find some bedding for the both of you."

Without another word, he walked away, leaving Gelda and Zeldris alone in the tent.

[hanako-san]

Yugi Amane x Reder Part 2 for @under-the-cherrytreeee

-

Yugi Amane x Reader Part 2

-Next day- When there was another supernatural encounter. Angie felt the power summon her to the harrow to Amane. She quickly disappeared, annoying her boss. Thanks to her abilities, she was a few seconds in the school corridor and she puts some kid in the middle of the street with a caputer on his head, trying to strike Amane, and Yugi was curled up on and protected his head with his hands covered, Angie reacted immediately using his powers, approaching corresponding to the attacker, she kicked him so hard that the boy was thrown two meters away, he immediately ran away when he saw her walking in his Amane at the same time lowered his arms and saw his friend's back. "Be careful!" He shouted at him Angie didn't have time to react because Amane caught her in a hug, causing her to fall. She was lying on the ground he was protecting her by lying on her. The blade of the sword he stopped at a centimeter from Amane's back "You are lucky" Minamoto said and walked away with a measured look. Angie understood Minamoto was following her, but ignored it would do anything for Amane to keep him safe. Amane and Angie decided to eat in class, and after a moment's pause, Amane decided to bring it up. "That dude, he was terrible" He got goosebumps "You're right" She said playfully smiling Amane took two movie tickets from his pocket and nervously held them, hesitating to ask her or not.Angie approached him with a cloth and wiped off the crumbs of the donut he had left on his lip. "Now you are much more handsome" She said smiling Amane turned red in his cheeks and was happy to hear that so he decided to ask. "Angie, I have two movie tickets, you want to go" He held out his hand with the tickets, but he could not look her straight in the face, he blushed at on bag. Angie is surprised when she realizes that Yugi is inviting her on a date and is also shy. "Yes!!" She answered without hesitation in a happy voice "So until tomorrow!" He said taking the bag and leaving her ticket and ran happily home.

-Thursday after school- Angie dressed up for a date in a quilted dress with a black puppet tied in the middle of her waist, and she wore matching flat-heeled shoes also black and white, the handbag was white. She was supernatural, but she could leave school like Tsuchigomori. "I'm sorry you waited!" She said as she approached Amane Amane was dressed in a white shirt and an orange sweater, black cloth pants, normal black sneakers. "It's okay. You look beautiful," he told her with a smile "Thank you! You too," she said blushing In front of the cinema there was a small bar where Minamoto worked, which saw Angie and Amane entering the cinema giving coffee to the customer from then on, he decided to keep a close eye on the cinema. After two hours, they both left laughing at the movie, laughing and telling their favorite moments from the movie. At some point theirs their fingers touched, they both looked at their slicked fingers, then at each other and quickly looked away from each other into opposite hand blushing. They both caught the engagement and they looked at each other while looking at each other's eyes and smiling. They didn't have to say they loved it, they knew it. "Please, please! Yugi has a girlfriend" They heard a boy's voice They looked toward the voice and saw a hooligan from their class. They both grew serious and silently Amane walked with Angie to avoid him and rake him,but the hooligan broke their hand and grabbed Angie's hand. Angie tried to pull away, but the grip was really strong, nor could she show her true power or form to Yugi. Amane quickly stepped between them and pushed the hooligan aside. "Angie, I'll protect you," He said firmly Angie wasn't surprised by his demeanor, she wanted to hug him tightly at that moment. "What a hero! You can't protect yourself," said the hooligan "I want to protect those I love!" He said firmly It surprised Angie and made her happy "bullshit" The hooligan raised his fist and was ready to attack. Amane closed his eyes and was ready to take the blow. Angie, grabbed the hooligan's hand and felt him over her shoulder, throwing him to the ground. Minamoto saw everything when he saw the situation -Next day (current events) - Yugi came to class, but Angie was gone. At first he thought he would be late again, and when he saw that Tsuchigomori himself had entered the room, he jumped up off the bench and ran to him "Sensei, where's Angie?" He asked "I have a letter for you," He said, "I gave it to me early in the morning so that I could give it to you" He added Amane opened it and read that she had had to leave town with her rozicami because of her father's work. She did not have time to say goodbye to him because she herself was surprised by this. He dropped this letter and started looking for her. In fact, Angie knew that she could die at the hands of Minamoto, so just in case she wrote a letter to him and gave it to Tsuchigomori. Tsuchigomori handed over the letter with a straight face, but it was actually heartbreaking because Angie didn't want him to interfere or help her. She used her power to isolate Tsuchigomori from herself so that he would not help her. She also valued the bond with Tsuchigomori, he was like a father to her that's why she didn't want him to die because of her. Yugi's voice calling Angie distracted her to the point that she looked at Yugi running around the school. Minamoto took advantage of this and stabbed her with his sword body and took out. She knew it was over. She leaned against the railing and stretched her hand out to him. "Please be happy" With tears in her eyes and a smile, she died turning into angel feathers. Amane will figure out where he might be he ran to the roof, but no one was there, there were only feathers around him that he had not seen before, looking up at the falling rain with tears in eyes. "I hope we'll meet someday," he said Tsuchigomori picked up the letter and willingly read the last line. "Thank you for everything and I love you"

[outtakesfrommars]

Christmas Gifts

“What’s this?”

“A present.” The silence which followed apparently led Rowan to believe the message was unclear.  “For you.”

Nora stared at the small box in her hands, holding it gingerly as though the golden ribbon on top was a detonator, as if it might explode at any moment. It didn’t look all that threatening to the untrained eye, but Nora knew there were implications behind shiny red paper and a frilly bow, no matter how messy the corners were or how many rolls of tape were evidently murdered to keep it all together.

“Why?” she demanded, giving Rowan a suspicious look.

Rowan smiled, visibly confused. “Because it’s Christmas.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” Nora replied, pushing the offending box back towards its proprietor.

“Okay?” Rowan gave her a baffled look, sliding the present back across the floor towards her. “That’s fine.”

Nora could hear Rowan’s family in the other room. Her parents and her little sister were laughing in the kitchen, wooden spoons clanging against metal bowls and the disgustingly cheerful lilt of Bing Crosby on the radio as they acted out the part of the perfect family. She didn’t have the heart to be jealous. She didn’t even want that. But it was still strange to be here, surrounded by twinkling lights and gaudy tinsel, the smell of scented candles and baking cookies and a real evergreen tree all assaulting her at once.

December hit and Rowan’s house became something out of a movie. It wasn’t that difficult, it was already a post-modern, suburban fever dream. Throw in a garland and a creepy vintage Santa, a light dusting of snow and you were all set.

Most of Nora’s Christmas Eve’s were spent quietly at home, watching a movie in her bed and hoping her mother would choose to stay out for the whole night, rather than coming home drunk at two a.m. and tripping over every piece of furniture between her and the couch. She didn’t have a problem with it. It was bizarrely comforting in the way familiarity often was, yet when Rowan had invited her to spend Christmas Eve at her house, she hadn’t managed to refuse.

Still, Nora knew how this worked.

“Isn’t that the whole point? You get me something, I get you something? It’s like a communist birthday party.”

The look she received in response to that comment was beyond confusion. It was a look suggesting she might have the psych ward called on her any minute.

Rowan did not pick up her phone, however. She picked up the disastrously wrapped box and placed it directly in Nora’s hands. “First of all, that’s fucked up. Second, it’s Jesus’ birthday and I’m not religious but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t a commie. Now would you just take the present?”

“But—“

“It’s fine,” Rowan interjected. “I wanted to get you something so I did. That’s the point of it. I don’t expect anything in return. And besides I know you’re…” Her sentence trailed off and her expression faltered, like she’d only realized what was leaving her mouth halfway through.

Nora didn’t grant her the gift of letting it slide. “Poor?”

“I wasn’t gonna say that.”

“Yeah, you were. It’s fine. You can say it.”

“Nora…” she sighed.

“Go on.”

Rowan shut her eyes, looking about as uncomfortable as Nora had ever made her, which was saying something considering how often it happened. It was sort of like a game for her.

“I don’t want to. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

Nora turned the present over, becoming more relaxed as the situation shifted into her court, the sword no longer pointed at her own throat but being held in her hands. “Well you kind of are right now.”

“I’m sorry!”

Nora’s mouth twisted in thought, tilting her head as though forgiveness were a hefty decision. “Hm…”

It took a solid five seconds for Rowan to catch on.

“You’re a dick.”

Nora grinned and began peeling the corner of the gift, her discomfort returning the moment Rowan fell silent and began watching her. Inside the paper was a box, also taped up tightly. It wasn’t difficult to get through, but picking and peeling her way through the layers felt like picking a lock to a safe. A safe with a bomb inside. It was still a bomb.

Finally, the lid came loose. Inside was a little string of LED Christmas lights attached to a battery pack, complete with a set of double-A batteries.

“For the palm tree in your room,” Rowan explained before she even had a chance to ask. “I thought, you know…maybe your space could use a little Christmas spirit.”

Nora stared at the string of lights, a dangerous prickling sensation behind her eyes. “You are so lame,” she stated, hoping to divert some attention from the way her vision was starting to blur.  

“If you don’t like them that’s okay,” Rowan said quickly. “I thought it was cute but I know that’s not really your thing. Seriously if you don’t want them I don’t—“ She reached for the lights but Nora snatched them away, flashing a look that wasn’t dissimilar to the expression a cat makes when assaulted with unsolicited head scratches.

“You can’t take my Christmas gift.”

“No, I…” Rowan stared at her, utterly lost. “Okay.”

Nora attempted a cold look, but the corners of her mouth revolted. “Thanks. Dipshit.”

Rowan grinned, making no attempt to subdue the expression. She could’ve burnt out the sun with that look. “You’re welcome.” She looked down, picking up a discarded piece of wrapping paper and tearing it apart methodically. “You can spend the night by the way, if you want. I know it’s Christmas Eve and you probably want to spend it with your mom but…just in case. I asked my parents and they said it’s okay. If you want.”

For a moment all Nora could do was stare, that vile burning sensation in her throat and her eyes once again. Thank god Rowan wasn’t actually looking at her. If Nora hadn’t been internally crumbling, she would’ve poked fun at her for how many times she’d said “if you want,” but there was no way for her to speak without murdering the remaining shreds of her dignity.

Rowan was the only person in a fifty kilometer radius who still thought she was somewhat cool. She couldn’t ruin that.

“Oh…” she managed, her voice quiet and monotonous and devoid of any emotion that might give away just how grateful she was for the offer, how taken aback she was that this girl still wanted to spend time with her after everything she’d done. “Okay.”

Rowan looked up, eyes wide. “Okay as in you’ll stay? Or okay as in thanks for the offer but I don’t want to hear another crude rendition of Frosty the Snowman from your mother so I’m gonna dip?”

“Okay, yes,” Nora clarified, laughter in her voice. “And your mom’s song was really good. I especially liked the part about his—”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Rowan covered her ears and began singing loudly like a child. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to be reminded. Say another word and I’ll revoke my invitation.”

“Too late.” Nora grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her ears. “You’re stuck with me.”

Rowan froze, hands still ensnared in Nora’s as she stared at her, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. She grinned again, still sun-melting and nervous. “Well, shit.”

[laurwantschaos]

would you do tengen x hashira!fem!reader

You are hashira, you finish your training. As you expected Tengen stand there that you finish your training. Tengen was impressed by you. You didn’t expect Tengen saw you training for whole time. He asked you if you could go for dinner with him. After that, you are on the way to place where Tengen got a spot on and you two are having a dinner

thank you and have a good day :)

Ofc I can! :) I can already tell that this will be quite flamboyant! ((Forgive the pun-)) Also, forgive me for how short it is. I wanted to make it longer but I struggle a bit with writing for Tengen.

-------

||Tengen Uzui x Hashira!Fem!Reader|| "The Candle To a Bright Flame"

"Easing up just isn't going to work this time!" The metallic sound of swords clicking together and grinding filled the air as the two hashira danced. (L/n) (F/n), the Ice Pillar, was a force to be reckoned with in a sparring match; her speed gave no room to strike and the technique of the sword left a cold chill lingering behind it.

Giyuu huffed, stepping back into a defensive stance with his sword gripped tightly in hand. He knew the Ice pillar's tricks all too well; when she would notice your sword grip lacking, she would hit it straight out of the other person's hand. Not exactly a fair fight, but who really fights fair in a life or death situation?

"Cmon, get rough!" Before the Water Pillar could blink, she was directly in his face and their swords were slammed against one another. When in this close range, it was a test of who could overpower the other with physical strength. Tomioka braced his stance, pushing her backwards.

Unbeknownst to both pillars, a certain flamboyant man was watching from a short distance away. He was blown away by how well that she carried herself when in combat against her opponent and her overall upper body strength. A flashy woman indeed.

As the heated training drew to a close and the victor was proclaimed; Giyuu had unfortunately won the match and the Ice pillar's pride was bruised. Nonetheless, she praised him and thanked him for sparring with her and winning. "Your technique is flawless, you barely left any openings for me to hit you, Tomioka." He just nodded, carefully sheathing his sword in its holster and turned to leave the training grounds wordlessly.

"He's certainly something, isn't he?" A familiar deep voice popped up from behind her and she quickly gripped her sword. "Tengen, you scared the hell out of me." She could practically hear the grin in his voice as he spoke, "You did some flashy work today and I was going to ask if you would like to get dinner with me tonight?" She turned to face him and rolled her eyes, "And what about your wives? Wouldn't they be upset with you for taking another woman to dinner?"

"My wives are fully aware of the things that I have been planning. Now, would you like to come and eat?" He held out his hand like he wanted to shake for a deal to sign her life away. "Fine, I'll go."

---

"Getting dressed for a simple dinner was not what I had in mind for today." Tengen had made her go home and get dressed nice for dinner after their conversation. She found it completely stupid, but decided not to put up a fight for her own sake. Tengen had a cocky grin plastered onto his face as he looked her over like a piece of candy.

"Well, you look breathtaking and good enough to eat." The tall man winked and opened the door to the restaurant for her to step into. As they entered, she quickly realized just how fancy this place was. Tengen lead her over to a table closest to the window and pulled out a chair, urging her to sit down.

"Alright Mr. Flamboyant, why have you invited me out to dinner once again? Also, what's with the fancy restaurant? Don't you have three pretty wives to spend money on?" The tone of her voice spelled out clear annoyance, yet a small twinge of curiosity. It had been no secret that she admired the man and secretly had a thing for his wives, but that would be embarrassing to admit out loud.

"Well, me and the wives were hoping on adding a fifth to our marriage." (Y/n) liked to have choked on her drink at his words and blinked, "I'm sorry, what?" A small grin fell on Tengen's lips and he leaned forward, resting his forearms against the table. "We have been all noticing the longing stares that you send our ways. So, why not cut to the chase and end all of the silent one-sided staring contests? Your technique and power is so flashy and impressive that we just couldn't keep our eyes off of you."

The Ice Pillar felt as though this was a fever dream, trying to pinch her thigh through the fabric of her dress. "What do you say we continue this dinner with some romantic potential and maybe we can start talking about planning dates with my wives?"

She bit her lip unsure for a moment, feeling as though this was too good to be true. Who was she to look a blessing in the eye and deny it? "Fine." With that, the Sound Pillar grinned, "Perfect, and may I call you by your first name, or should I just call you mine?"

[thesunicarusfellfor]

WAIT WAIT— what if 👀 what if Yandere!Tubbo and Yandere!Tommy falling for the reader at the same time

BROO— THE ANGST POSSIBILITIES

ooooooOOOOO DAMN this one is gonna be good! I love the way you think! So I wrote this as headcanons, but I will write this as an actual story if requested. ^^

This is not exactly implied romantic??? I'm still scared about writing their characters as directly romantic????? I'll probably get braver about it but still lowkey worried.

Yandere!C!Tommy x GN!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Headcanon/Fic

Tommy, at first, completely denied even acknowledging your existence.

Until he saw someone interact with you.

Then he would start pulling out his sword or glaring at them from across the room.

He would definitely pin them in an alleyway and threaten every single one of their canon lives.

Tommy, please. Niki was just trying to give you cookies.

He's the kind of Yandere that would greatly keep his distance both physically, emotionally and mentally. Basically, he would be a Tsundere Yandere.

Tubbo, on the other hand, would be extremely sweet to you.

Need netherite? He had an extra few ingots ready in his pockets!

Interacting with someone who wasn't him? Was he not good enough for you??? Fine. You don't deserve him.

He would cry to you and make you feel guilty OR completely ignore you for a week straight until you come crawling back to him and apologizing.

Straight up can flip emotions like a switch.

The first time either of them realized the other liked you as well, was when they were listening to Mellohi on their bench, watching the sunset when they saw you having a conversation with Ranboo at the bottom of the cliff.

"What're they doing talking to him?" Tommy growled lowly and leaned forward to glared at the enderman who was talking to you. He reached for his bow n' arrow before Tubbo grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks, "What? I don't want them talking to anyone but me."

"What do you mean 'anyone but you'?! You avoid them like they're a virus!" Tubbo stared at him, digging his fingers into Tommy's bicep a small bit to show his anger a bit more, "They should only be talking to me."

The blond turned towards his brunet friend and yanked his arm out of his grasp, "Excuse me?" He glared into Tubbo's dull blue eyes, gritting his teeth, "You do nothing but give them stuff!"

"And you treat them like shit and avoid them!" The smaller of the two retorted angrily, trying to keep his tone level enough to where you didn't hear.

Mellohi, the music that had been playing mere moments ago, slowly came to a stop and left nothing but silence and tension in the air. You had noticed them arguing from below, but Ranboo (who had heard their entire argument) decided to pull you away from them and bring you to the Tundra.

"Are you trying to take everything from me?!" Tommy tightened his grip on his diamond sword, although part of him knew that if Tubbo equipped his netherite armour, there would be absolutely no competition whatsoever.

"Take things from you?! They're a human being and you choose to ignore that fact when you ignore them or call them terrible names!"

"I treat everyone like that! You already have Ranboo, I don't understand why you're chasing after them with hearts in your eyes when you're fuckin' married! Loyal much! Oh wait, you aren't loyal, you EXILED ME!"

"It's platonic! I told you that already! And you're starting this again now, Tommy?!"

Ranboo actually felt nervous leaving you alone around both Tommy AND/OR Tubbo after hearing their entire argument that day.

Tommy, although now a lot nicer, became extremely clingy towards you and constantly would walk over and drag you away mid-conversation with anyone that wasn't him. ESPECIALLY if you were talking to Tubbo.

Man would bring you everywhere with him if you would let him.

Netherite mining? Get your pick.

To get new discs? Pack your bags, we're going on an adventure.

Straight up does everything he can do to get you away from Tubbo because he's petty.

He tried giving you as many gifts as Tubbo, but mans is broke.

Tubbo would get extremely annoyed by Tommy even just walking through the area when he was with you.

Would start to hold your hand or link arms with you (if you're comfortable), just so Tommy couldn't pull you away as easily.

Started to try guilt-tripping you into living in Snowchester, and even tried to get you to live in the mansion.

Ranboo actually lied to Tubbo, saying he was scared of enderwalking and hurting you, to convince Tubbo not to guilt-trip you further into living in the mansion.

Tubbo's constant gift-giving got so much more extreme.

Want netherite ingots to make armour?

Nope. No lifting a finger.

He already made you fully enchanted netherite god armour anyway.

Has definitely tried to convince Ranboo to let him involve you in the platonic marriage.

"Ranboo! My beloved!" Tubbo called jokingly, walking into their home. He kicked the snow on his boots before pulling down his hood and taking off his hat, hanging it on the hook as he took off his footwear, "I have a proposition for you!"

The monochrome-coloured man lifted his head and set down the journal in his hand, the ink likely still wet judging by the quill in his hand, "Yeah? What's that?" He placed the feathered pen in the pot of ink and turned to face his platonic husband.

"What would you say to extending our marriage to three people? Like a polyamorous relationship. Like Sapnap, Karl and Big Q?" Tubbo sat down in the chair beside him, watching as Ranboo was left reeling for a few seconds.

"W-well, one, I think you mean expanding. Two, with who?!" The tall male sat up quickly, bumping his leg on the table from his minor flailing, "A-and, and, what about Michael? Are you sure they can be trusted with him?"

Tubbo held out his hand to calm his friend down, making his friend put his hands down so he didn't accidentally hit something, "You know what I meant, and (Y/n)! Y'know... Like, the one with (h/l) (h/c) hair, (tall/short)! (Y/n), them!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know who they are, it's just..." He paused to gather his words, glancing away from his friend. In all reality, he wouldn't mind inviting you into the platonic marriage, even if he knew Tubbo felt more romantic feelings towards you. He didn't shut up about it. It was the fact that he was worried about what kind of mental manipulation Tubbo would do to you if you did agree to be in the marriage. Or even what Tommy would do to you or Tubbo!

"...Just?"

'Your relationship with Tommy is beyond screwed already... Imagine what would happen if both of his friends left him to be in a platonic relationship with me. Tubbo, all of us would be in severe danger.' He thought silently before taking a breath. "I-I don't have my enderwalking state under control... I'm already scared for Michael enough, and I don't want to hurt her as well... Give it some time and we'll see. Please.." He whispered, lying through his teeth. Ranboo knew you were damn good at protecting yourself and could knock his long and lanky ass to the dirt within seconds.

Tubbo's bright shiny eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment as his smile began to falter, "Ah... Yeah. I guess that makes sense. For their safety I suppose." His normal look returned and he gave him a smile, "Yeah, that does make a lot of sense. I'll ask again next month to see what happens."

"What... What about Tommy-"

"What about him?" He demanded sharply, his smile vanishing in mere seconds which caught Ranboo off guard yet again, "He doesn't need to be in their life. He would do more harm to them than good!"

Ranboo was left gaping, his mouth moving but not creating any sounds. He watched as Tubbo eyed him carefully before he got up, murmuring something about grabbing food then going to bed.

Once the goat hybrid was completely out of sight, Ranboo reached for his memory book and took the quill again.

'Protect (Y/n) from Tubbo and Tommy. Get them out of DreamSMP.'

Ranboo was scared for you.

He was stuck watching as these crazy two men fought over you, threatened you, manipulated you... It was worrying, to say the least.

Don't get him wrong. If he didn't have an adopted son, a platonic husband that he still cared about despite him being another Dream at this point, and a Syndicate to protect him from, he would've packed everything and ran, bringing you with him.

He was practically walking on eggshells around this man that he had once been extremely close to!

It practically sent shivers down his spine...

Eventually, it got to the point where Ranboo had gone to your house in the ungodly hours of the morning to talk to you.

This man LITERALLY crept into Tubbo's room AND Tommy's house to make sure they were both asleep before going to talk to you.

"Ran... Boo?" You asked, yawning softly as you leaned against the door, your hair all frizzy and messed up, "What's up? It'sssss... Like 5:30am. The sun is barely even up..."

"(Y/n)... Can we go inside? Please... There's something very wrong.." He murmured softly, his memory book tightly held in his grasp as he glanced around. Tommy could be waking up sometime soon, and he did not want to get caught talking to you. He would certainly be down a canon life before he could even say 'sorry'.

You watched the nervous man in front of you and nodded before stepping aside to let him in. Peaking outside, you looked around for what was causing him to panic but went back inside once you didn't see anything. "What's wrong?" Softening your tone, you gestured for him to sit at the table while you made coffee.

Once he had a fresh mug of coffee in front of him, Ranboo slowly began to gather his nerve and speak. He told you everything he could remember, and even opened his memory book to tell you about the things he didn't remember. Everything from the fight where Tommy and Tubbo's friendship completely went downhill a few months ago, to the threats Tubbo used against Tommy, the manipulation against you, the threats he had received by talking to you, and even Tubbo's violent mood switches when talking about you or Tommy.

The entire time, you just sat there wide-eyed as you listened to him ramble on about his fears and worries, and everything in between. He even mentioned wanting to actually divorce Tubbo because of how scared he was for you and his own life. "I don't... Not... Believe you... But this is- this is a little difficult to believe." You knew the enderman hybrid wouldn't lie about something so serious, and he definitely wouldn't be shaking like a leaf if it was a joke or a lie.

"Y-yeah, I expected that... But I really do care about your safety, honestly. You know I wouldn't joke about this kind of thing, especially about Tubbo." He murmured softly, looking at his crown laying on the table in front of him, "In all honesty, I came here this early because I was scared about Tommy trying to kill me if he saw me talking to you..."

"He wouldn't ki-"

The door slammed open dramatically and there was a cheerful shout of your name, "(Y/n)!!! Let's go mining for diamon-" Tommy walked into your kitchen, only to freeze mid-step and midfacial expression. His expression went from surprised to annoyance to a grim smile, "Hello Ranboo!" He gave him a smile that was more like baring his teeth as he twirled his axe nonchalantly.

He was going to hurt him...

[reidamancy]

written in the stars || spencer reid

summary: You haven’t truly stargazed until you’ve snuggled with Dr. Spencer Reid under the midnight sky, with him teaching you everything he knows about the stars (spencer reid x gn bau!reader)

category: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k

a/n: i wasn’t kidding when i said i’m using my classes as fanfic research... my final paper was about the constellations and all i could think about while writing it was this fic playing out lmao. besides, who doesn’t love a little cliche stargazing fic <3

also! this is the extended version of this blurb before i decided to make this entirely fluff :)

MASTERLIST

After an especially hard case, Rossi had invited the team over to wind down. You felt the tension slowly leave the team as you ate his signature pasta and watched as your teammates drank their weight in wine. It wasn’t long before everyone had crashed from both the wine and the exhaustion.

You woke up in the middle of the night, mouth dry and in desperate need of water. As you stumbled your way into Rossi’s kitchen in the dark, your steps seemed to echo throughout his mansion. Soft snores from the rest of your team came from the various guest bedrooms as you felt you way through the darkness until you found the kitchen.

As you filled a glass up with water, you looked outside and noticed a figure sitting on the yard. You smiled to yourself; you’d recognize his silhouette anywhere. Bringing your glass with you, you quietly opened the door to join your boyfriend outside.

“Hey you,” you greeted, voice hoarse, as you neared him.

He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He turned, startled, but smiled once he saw you. “Hey,” he returned.

You took a seat next to him on the grass, hugging your knees over your chest, water still in hand. You rested your cheek on top of your knees as you gazed at him. “Can’t sleep?” You asked.

He shook his head. “It’s hard to sleep without you.” He shyly admitted.

Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Aww,” you cooed. You leaned to give him a peck on the cheek, but before you could pull away he brought the blanket around both of you and pulled you in closer. You took the blanket from his hands and held it against your shoulder, using the other arm to pull him in close.

You smiled as he snuggled into you, his fluffy hair tickling your neck as the warmth of the blanket engulfed both of you. With your hand on one end of the blanket, and his on the other, you both snuggled into each other and held the fabric tightly against your bodies. After a few minutes of enjoying each other’s presence, you then reached out for your glass and offered him a sip of your water, which he gladly accepted.

“Thank you,” he mumbled before handing you back the glass.

You kissed his forehead in response. After taking a quick sip of the water yourself, you placed the glass back on the ground.

“How long have you been out here?” you asked.

“Not long. I just needed to clear my head.”

You nodded in response and started rubbing his back. You wondered if it was the case that made him come out here, but decided it was best not to bring it up. Instead, you comforted him silently, leaning into him and embracing him as closely as you could. He let out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes and basking in your scent. It was calming. You were calming.

Holding him close, your hand found its way into his hair as you began to massage his scalp. You felt Spencer’s smile against your shoulder as the two of you enjoyed each other’s presence in the serene night, quietly observing the halcyon woods in front of you.

You felt Spencer’s gaze shift upwards, and you followed his eyes to the sky. It was a clear night, and the bright stars twinkled against the night sky. Clusters of stars glittered across the sky and you marveled at the beauty. Spencer did the same, and the two of you admired the sight in silence, each in your own worlds.

“Do you ever think about them? The stars?” He asked.

“No,” you admitted. You brought your gaze back to him and stared at him as you said, “Tell me about them.”

A small smile spread on his face as his eyes remained locked on the stars. He sat up to point out a constellation, and you adjusted, placing your hands behind you and leaning back to look at the sky. 

“There’s the Orion,” Spencer stated. You followed his finger to a cluster of bright stars. You watched them twinkle as he explained, “In the Greek myth, he’s a hunter who becomes so successful he declared that he would hunt all the animals on Earth.” Spencer leaned closer to you in order to point out, “See? There’s his sword.” You followed his finger. “And belt. And shield.”

“Hm. I don’t see it.” You replied.

Spencer looked back at you with a smile. “Then what do you see, my love?”

You stared at the constellation once more, trying to interpret the stars as something more than dots in the sky. “Um, I don’t know. I just see a bunch of stars, Spence.”

Spencer laughed. “So you can see the slightest change in behavior during interrogations but not a man in the sky?”

“Hey!” You lightly shoved him. “That’s different,” You laughed.

“You know, in other cultures the Orion represented different things. In South America, it was a wife cheating on her husband. In North America, it was seen as a hand.” He paused to look at it more. “And in Australia, it was a canoe.”

You stared at the constellation as he talked, imagining the things he was describing. “That’s so cool how different cultures saw different things when looking at the same stars.” You commented.

“Isn’t it?” Spencer looked at you excitedly, happy you found it as fascinating as he did.

“Tell me about that one,” you pointed.

“That’s actually a planet. It’s Venus, the brightest planet because it’s the closest.”

“And that one?”

…

Somehow throughout the night you had changed positions and Spencer was now laying in between your legs with his back against your chest. His arms were hooked under your thighs as he softly ran his large palms up and down your leg. Your fingers found their war back into Spencer’s hair and played with his curls.

“Doesn’t it all just make you feel so small?” He asked.

You crossed your arms over his neck to hug his head as you placed a kiss at the top of his head. Resting your chin on top of his head and pulling him close, you breathed in his scent as you responded, “It really does.”

Before long, the sun began to rise and started to illuminate the sky.

“It’s morning,” Spencer said. “We should head back inside before the team wakes up.”

You sighed against him as you held him tighter. You heard the clanking of glasses from the kitchen and turned around to see Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss staring at you and Spencer behind the window. You softly giggled and rested your chin on top of Spencer’s head.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

You kissed his head again. “I think they already have,” you whispered into his locks.

He quickly turned around and this time the three agents waved. You laughed into his hair as Spencer immediately turned back around, clearly embarrassed.

You felt the heat radiating off his cheeks on your arms and you giggled, only holding him tighter.

“Can we stay out here a little longer, please?” He asked, voice soft. 

“Of course.”