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demoniqt · 11 months

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Remarried Empress

Chapter 3: Until I Found You

The coronation ceremony for the Prince Consort of the Demon Emperor came three months after Tianlang-jun and Shen Qingqiu's wedding ceremony.

As promised, the coronation ceremony was being held in conjunction with the belated wedding reception. No one in the whole palace was spared from the wide-scale preparations. Even the demon children of the officials were roped into helping out with the preparations. However, despite the amount of work and hassle, there was a sense of excitement in the air as everyone gossiped about the upcoming celebration.

"Did you hear? The Violet Spider demon clan wove the imperial wedding robes as tribute to the royal family. Empress Shen will be gorgeous in his bridal robes," tittered one small demon, her furry fox head bobbing along as she ran with her two back legs bipedal style while carrying a tray filled with sweet snacks.

"He's already so beautiful," agreed her weasel companion, who was carrying a tray of tea. "He'll be a hundred times more beautiful with them on."

The two small demons approached the gate to the Royal Quarters and the two guards open the doors for them.

In the courtyard, colourful flowers imported from the human world greeted the two demons as they made their way down the stone path to the pavilion in the middle of the lotus pond.

"Empress, your tea and snacks," chirped the little fox demon to the human cultivator, who was sitting at the forefront with his back to the round table.

"Mn," acknowledged their human empress without looking up from his musical instrument. He was playing the qin as was his habit every morning. It always filled the courtyard and the nearby palace hallways with soothing and healing music. In the beginning, it made the demons stationed nearby nervous and fearful, but as time went by, the demon guards and servants begin to look forward to duties serving their new empress.

Empress Shen wasn't a kind person per se, but he didn't outright abuse any of his servants, unlike many of the demon lords and ladies. He also didn't whip any of the servants unless it was for a severe infraction, like the time someone tried to poison him and Prince Su. The chef and the servants were interviewed intensively by Empress Shen until one of them broke and pinpointed the real perpetrator. He'd left the demon who had masterminded the assassination attempt for Emperor Tianlang-Jun to find and punish while he saw to the punishment of the servant, who was whipped until he was nothing more than a slab of meat before he was hung outside the capital for the scavengers.

Assassination attempts on the royal family significantly dropped after that. Especially because no one ever found out what happened to the demon who had bribed the servant.

Furthermore, everyone in the palace knew by now how Empress Shen had gone into battle with Emperor Tianlang-Jun and led them all to successfully unite the demon world as a whole. The whole peace treaty with the human was also successful because of Empress Shen's presence!

The little demons placed the trays carefully on the table before jumping on the chairs to set the table. Just as they were done and were retrieving the trays, a figure in black and red arrived at the garden.

"How is my beautiful empress doing today?"

The two small demons bowed low as their emperor strode into the pavilion to kiss his husband's cheek.

"Have you finished your paperwork?" questioned Empress Shen, a strict look on his face.

"Aiyo, my wife, I've been up since early morning. I've finished everything Zhuzhi has given me. I was a very good boy," Tianlang-Jun said, sidling closer to his spouse. "Aren't you going to reward me?"

The little fox servant and the weasel servant wisely slid away from the pavilion. But just before the guards closed the gates behind them, the fox demon turned around to see their emperor lean down and Empress Shen tilting his head up to receive his kiss.

It was so good to see Emperor Tianlang-Jun so happy with his new spouse, given the long period of mourning.

Ever since the death of Lady Su, the master of their palace had been wrecked with grief and anger, neglecting their prince and focusing only on uniting the demon world. The little fox had only joined the palace a few years back and had never seen the emperor at the battlefield, but she had heard plenty of rumours of how Tianlang-Jun had rampaged through the armies like a bloodthirsty tempest, leaving nothing but devastation.

These days, their emperor spent most of his time buying gifts for his empress, asking after his employees, sparring with Prince Su, going on outings with his family and laughing. His boisterous laughter could be heard through the hallways more often that not these days and it uplifted many of the servants, including dour old Steward Kui. The old turtle demon was so taken by the changes that he'd even stopped muttering under his breath about human stench.

And then, there was quiet little Prince Su, who had been so lonely and somber. The little fox servant had always wanted to play with him but was too busy cleaning to do more than greet the young prince every time they passed each other in the hallways. Now though, the half human child always returned her cheerful greeting with one of his own as he trailed after his stepmother.

"I can't wait for the wedding!" the fox spirit said, skipping happily down the hallway with her tray. Her companion nodded in agreement.

"Me too! The dignitaries are arriving soon! Let's find a good place to watch!"

***

Shen Qingqiu was well aware that Emperor Huang and his contingent of officials and servants had arrived at the Southern Palace. They were designated to the other end of the palace where the guest quarters were situated. Shen Qingqiu himself had seen to the cleaning, renovation and furnishing of the chambers to ensure that the occupants had nothing to complain about.

However, despite the endless planning and preparations, issues still arose and Shen Qingqiu had to delegate more servants to resolve the problem at the kitchens before reports came in that the humans were making things difficult for the demon servants. Despite his reluctance to step foot into the guest quarters, he went to attend to the troublemakers who were obviously lacking in decorum.

"Please remember that you are in the abode of others and should therefore show courtesy by not making things difficult for the servants of the host," Shen Qingqiu reprimanded as he stepped into the kitchens. Immediately, the small demons he'd sent to deliver the extra provisions put down their burdens and quickly hid behind him, fearful of the snobbish pregnant human lady terrorising them.

"As if demons know anything about courtesy," Qi Qingqi shot back before making a double take at Shen Qingqiu.

"I should have expected that it would be you causing a ruckus. And regardless of whether demons know courtesy, as a guest, you should show some modicum of manners," Shen Qingqiu said sarcastically. "Did your doting father skip that lesson with you? Or did you fool your multitude of tutors into believing that you have the ability to display perfect manners with just your pretty looks?"

Qi Qingqi looked as if she was about to slap Shen Qingqiu but visibly refrained herself. "At least I have a father and tutors!"

Shen Qingqiu snorted and rolled his eyes, "And yet, who is the one causing trouble for the host upon arrival? Even an uneducated orphan would know better."

Qi Qingqi gritted her teeth before lifting her head to look down on him.

"Looks like your doing well here," Qi Qingqi said, a sneer on her pretty face as she looked him up and down, taking in his silk robes and expensive but elegant jewelry. "Figures that you would fit well with savage demons."

Shen Qingqiu scoffed at her weak jab. "Oh Madam Qi, I'd argue that you'd fit right in too, given your vicious, two-faced nature. We are very much alike in that sense, aren't we? One would argue that Yue Qingyuan has a type. Don't bother denying it. It does take one to know one, after all."

Qi Qingqi pursed her lips and tilted her head as if to look down on him. "I am officially the First Wife now, so you would have to call me Lady Yue. I also have no time to argue with one such as yourself."

"Oh? Running away to Yue Qingyuan already? Just because you can't win? Don't forget. The only reason you can enjoy that status is because of me," Shen Qingqiu reminded.

"Nonsense. It is because of Lord Yue that you can even stand here, boasting about your lowly marriage to a mere ambassador!" Qi Qingqi returned, visibly agitated now.

"Oh no. It's because I'm no longer there as his patsy First Husband that you can become the First Wife," Shen Qingqiu corrected, a smug smile on his face. "No matter what you say, you are still the second. Even after taking the role as First Spouse, you are still just a step-mistress of the house. A second fiddle."

"You!" Qi Qingqi gritted her teeth, snarling at him. "And you are nothing but discarded trash picked up by a barbaric demon!"

"A-Qi?" Yue Qingyuan stepped into the kitchen, looking concerned.

He had heard that his wife was visiting the kitchens to inspect the provisions allocated for the Yue contingent and thought nothing of it. After a while though, he'd gone in search of his wife and heard her shouting from the kitchens.

However, when he caught sight of Shen Qingqiu, the look of concern melted right off and a look of joy and relief took over.

"A-Jiu!"

Seeing him, Shen Qingqiu couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow in his heart. But unlike the other times before, there was no longing and no heartrending pain. There was only grief at the loss of what they once had.

Taking a deep breath, Shen Qingqiu looked away and focused on Qi Qingqi. He knew it was rude to ignore Yue Qingyuan but he didn't want to give any indication that the man's presence affected him in anyway.

"Regardless of your opinions of me or demons, I will remind you to be courteous to the help," Shen Qingqiu said to her. "They are, after all, the demon emperor's employees, not your minions or sycophants."

Qi Qingqi glared at him, unable to sneer or shout at him like she clearly wanted since her lord husband was present.

"A-Qi's appetite has been affected by the pregnancy and it makes her a little selective with her meals," Yue Qingyuan said, trying to excuse his wife's bad behaviour. He used to do that too with Shen Qingqiu, not knowing that it made his spouse look bad in front of their audience.

"If there is anything that you need, you can inform Steward Shi and he will do his best to obtain it for you," Shen Qingqiu answered to Qi Qingqi instead of Yue Qingyuan.

"No need," Qi Qingqi retorted, still looking down her nose at him. "I don't need any provisions from the likes of demons. We have brought enough to lasts our stay in this dreary palace."

Well then, there was no need to cause issues for the small demons now, were they? It was obvious Qi Qingqi had only come to the kitchens to cause trouble for the servants and to throw her weight around to establish dominance.

"Very well," Shen Qingqiu said, turning away. "Since there is no more issue, I will take my leave."

"Wait!" Yue Qingyuan called out, following after him into the hallway. Qi Qingqi, annoyed at being left behind, followed after.

Shen Qingqiu had to turn around after rounding a corner and realising that Yue Qingyuan was unwilling to let him go until he'd said his piece.

"What is it, Lord Yue?" he questioned, tone cold and professional.

"A-Jiu, you left so quickly that day, I didn't even have time to process everything that happened," Yue Qingyuan said, looking wronged even though he'd been the one to issue the divorce papers. "And you didn't even say anything before you left."

"We were already divorced," Shen Qingqiu reminded him, going straight for the jugular without physically pinpointing an accusing finger at his ex-husband. "There was nothing left to say. So saying nothing was the best at that time."

"Was there... was there really nothing...?" Yue Qingyuan asked before Qi Qingqi caught his attention by pulling on his sleeve roughly.

"Fujun, I'm tired. Escort me back to our rooms," Qi Qingqi demanded, slithering her arm around her husband's possessively.

"Yes, you should do that. Madam Qi will tire easily with her condition," Shen Qingqiu said, making as if to leave.

"A-Jiu, please come back!" Yue Qingyuan pled suddenly, reaching out for him. Shen Qingqiu dodged the hand by taking two steps back.

"Fujun! What are you saying?" Qi Qingqi screeched. "How can you ask trash like him to return."

"Qingqi! How can you say something so terrible!?" Yue Qingyuan asked, visibly horrified at her words.

"Oh, honestly, Yue Qingqyuan. It isn't as if she hadn't called me that or worse on a regular basis while I was still at Yue Manor. Really, only you would be so oblivious to her real nature," Shen Qingqiu said with a roll of his eyes. "It's been nearly a year since you married her. Surely you cannot still be so blind."

"Why are you still saying things like this?" Yue Qingyuan questioned, looking wronged as always.

"Suit yourself," Shen Qingqiu said, shrugging as he turned away to leave. He was truly unsurprised by Yue Qingyuan's behaviour by now. "I obviously can't convince a cow to climb a tree."

"A-Jiu! Don't leave!"

"Yue Qingyuan, I am no longer your husband. It is highly inappropriate for you to still call me that," Shen Qingqiu reprimanded. "Have some decorum."

"A-Jiu!"

"Yue Qingyuan! Leave him!"

"Leave my A-Niang alone!"

At the new voice, Shen Qingqiu turned to see a petulant Su Binghe storming down the hallway while glaring at Yue Qingyuan and Qi Qingqi. When he got to where Shen Qingqiu was standing, he ignored them in favour of greeting his stepparent.

"A-Niang!" Su Binghe said, looking up at him with adoring eyes.

"A-A-Niang?" Yue Qingyuan parroted as Qi Qingqi gave the boy a disgusted look. Seeing that made Shen Qingqiu ignore the persistent brat's title for him.

"Binghe, have you finished your essay?" Shen Qingqiu asked, taking out a handkerchief to wipe Binghe's cheek, which had a smudge of ink. He took his sweet time patting the boy on the head as well, arranging his messy curls as the boy grinned at him, relishing the attention.

"I've already finished it. I've put it on your writing table but Steward Kui said that you were here, so I came to find you," Binghe said with a saccharine sweet tone. He wrapped his arm around Shen Qingqiu's. "A-Niang, I want to have tanghulu but Chef Mo is so stingy. He won't give me any."

It was clear the boy was putting up a show for the two unruly humans that tried to take his stepmother away. He was really hamming it up for the audience too, trying to clearly establish how absolutely WANTED Shen Qingqiu was in his new home.

Clever boy.

Shen Qingqiu never taught him anything like this before, so he must have learned it from Tianlang-Jun. Whatever. It served to get him out of dodge with Yue Qingyuan.

"Then, A-Niang will scold him for you," Shen Qingqiu answered, leading the happily grinning boy away.

Once again shocked speechless, the Yue couple couldn't utter a single word as Shen Qingqiu made his stylish exit, with his son in tow and all his servants trailing behind him in neat rows.

***

Shen Qingqiu's robes took the best weavers and seamstresses from the Violet Spider demon clan three months to make.

The inner robes were buttery soft, so light and flowy that it barely felt decent when he wore it. The red was so bright and intense Shen Qingqiu wondered where they obtained the dye as it was quickly becoming one of his favourite colours. He couldn't stop touching the material, attracted by its softness and smoothness. He wondered if he could commission silk robes like this to be used as night gowns.

(It would be nigh expensive but surely his doting husband would like to see his Qingqiu sleep comfortably...)

The extravagant outer robe, which was displayed in his room on a stand during the days leading up to the reception ceremony, was at least 20 feet long. When he put it on, it trailed behind him in twilight black silk embroidered with glittering silk threads finer than any humans can produce. There was a golden and red phoenix meticulously sewn to the back to represent his role as the empress, though that wasn't his official title.

"Are you sure you want me to take this role?" Shen Qingqiu asked the day the robes were delivered. He touched the embroidered phoenix with a gentle hand. "What if you found some demoness more suitable?"

"Qingqiu," Tianlang-Jun said, holding his shoulders and turning him to face the demon completely. "There is no other more perfect in my eyes than you, whether as my spouse or as my empress. There will be no other. Even if I am no longer the emperor, you will still be my empress."

"Don't lie to me," Shen Qingqiu said, voice soft. "Don't promise me that."

"Qingqiu, I have only ever loved one person before you and I have never strayed even after her death," Tianlang-Jun said solemnly. "When I saw you at that garden, I was reminded of Su Xiyan, who was so strong and yet so soft. But you, you were everything she was and more. And the more I learned about you, the more I know for certain that I was waiting for you."

He touched Shen Qingqiu's face, "You are my saving grace, Qingqiu. I was so filled with anguish and pain that I ignored my family for years. But you woke me up. That moonlit night, at that garden, I woke up from my grief and fell in love with you."

'You saved me," Shen Qingqiu whispered back, tears clinging to his lashes. "You were the one who saved me."

Tianlang-Jun kissed his brow with a gentle hum before pulling him into his embrace.

"We saved each other."

***

The hall was filled to the brim with officials from both the demon world and the human world.

Emperor Huang, the guest of honour, was seated on the right of the dais meant for the royal couple with his contingent designated on his side of the hall while the demons sat on the other side.

It looked odd. With one half of the hall looking beastly and ferocious as demons all of sizes, colours and shapes filled the seats while the other half were filled with pale-faced humans.

"I suppose it is only right when the new empress is a human," commented Emperor Huang as he looked around the hall. "And with a crown prince who is a half demon, half human, His Majesty is truly looking for unification."

"Unification of the demon world is all he sought for," assured the beautiful fox spirit that was delegated as their guide to the palace. "Junshang has worked hard to bring order to our world, so he will focus on building our realm and improving our quality of life. Do not worry, Emperor Huang. Junshang has no intentions invading the human world for he respects your culture too much to disrupt your lives."

"Furthermore, our Empress will not be too happy if the world he came from is attacked. Junshang dotes on him so very much," said the fox demon with a giggle. "He would not risk our empress' wrath."

"Is that so," replied Emperor Huang, smoothing his beard in contemplation. "It's good to hear that Master She-"

There was a susurrus of voices from the other end of the hall before the demons were seen ushered to return to their seats.

"It is the auspicious hour," the fox spirit said, bowing to Emperor Huang, who courteously returned the gesture before returning to his seat. When the attendees were settled into their seats, the steward made the announcements for the royal family's arrival.

"Announcing Prince Zhuzhi-Lang!"

The general who usually shadowed Tianlang-Jun entered the hall, dressed in long black robes lined in green embroidery, with his normally unbound hair set in a high bun encircled with a golden hair crown shaped like a coiling snake.

It was the first time the humans had seen him dressed so formally and it was a shock to many to discover his familial connection with the Emperor of the Demon World. Given his quiet and unassuming nature, many of the human officials had overlooked what they essentially thought was a common subordinate.

"Announcing Crown Prince Su Binghe!"

A beautiful child dressed in black robes with a thick red brocade belt sauntered down the hallway, eyes trained on the dais as his stepmother had instructed. He would be sitting on the left between his cousin and his new mother.

Elsewhere in the hall, it took several moments before Yue Qingyuan recognised the child as the one he'd seen with Shen Jiu. The one who'd call him A-Niang-

"Announcing Emperor Tianlang-Jun and Prince Consort Shen Qingqiu!"

The ambassador that had travelled to the human world with just a few demon soldiers and a general stepped into the hall, hand-in-hand with Shen Qingqiu, Yue Qingyuan's former First Husband.

"A-Jiu..?" Yue Qingyuan was only able to dimly register a shocked sound emitting from his wife beside him as the royal couple paraded past them. His eyes was fixated on his ex-husband, who looked as beautiful as he did when Yue Qingyuan first married him, if not more, with his extravagantly exquisite bridal robes trailing behind him.

"No... no way," Qi Qingqi breathed to herself, eyes as wide as saucers.

But there was no denying it.

It really was Shen Qingqiu who was seated at the high throne of the Empress of the Demon World.

***

Originally, the dressmakers suggested a cathedral-length red veil but Shen Qingqiu had vetoed it, saying that their unveiling ceremony was already done and over with. Instead, he's chosen a matching set of golden headdress and hairpins that complimented his husband's head crown.

Now, he was glad for it because he could clearly see everyone's expressions, including the blatant shock on the faces of the human attendees. So, Tianlang-Jun really did neglect to announce his true identity and led them all to believe that he was a mere lord ambassador. Only the Emperor Huang didn't seem surprised, which was to be expected.

Shen Qingqiu didn't bother looking over to where the Yue contingent was, focusing only on his slow stride up the raised dais where the high rulers of the demon world would sit.

"We thank you for your presence today," Tianlang-Jun said to all the attendees, a handsome smile on his face. "On this beautiful day, we are officially celebrating my wedding as well as the appointment of my Prince Consort, my beloved Qingqiu."

As he said so, the demon emperor turned to Shen Qingqiu, taking his hands and looking into his eyes.

"Before we married, I swore that I will treat you with the utmost respect and that you will be no lesser than anyone," Tianlang-Jun said. "Now, I stand here at the pinnacle to promise that for as long as this empire stands, you will be my equal. You will be revered as the ruler of the demon world, sitting by my side, sharing my throne."

Shen Qingqiu blinked his eyes, willing his tears not to fall on such an auspicious occasion.

Even if this was temporary, even if Tianlang-Jun was lying to him, even if Shen Qingqiu were to fall out of favour, such a public announcement made by the emperor was undeniable and irrevocable.

Tianlang-Jun was making it clear to all that no matter what happened, Shen Qingqiu would always have a place here, esteemed and venerated as the empress.

Shen Qingqiu opened his mouth but his normal silver tongue failed him and he couldn't utter a single word in return.

He didn't need to though. Witnessing his speechlessness, Tianlang-Jun gave him the same dimpled smile that he had greeted Shen Qingqiu with when they first met under the full moon.

"Tonight, let us celebrate my beautiful Qingqiu! My husband! My beloved Prince Consort! My Empress!" Tianlang-Jun addressed the hall, lifting the goblet of red wine prepared for the royal couple. He drank a sip before passing it to Shen Qingqiu, who shared the same goblet to represent their new entangled lives as a married couple.

"Drink, Eat and Celebrate!"

"Long live Emperor Tianlang-Jun!"

"Long Live Prince Consort Shen! Our Empress Shen!"

***

Yue Qingyuan was frozen in place, despite his wife pulling insistently at his sleeve to get him to sit down.

Everyone else had taken their seats as rows of servants came gliding into the hallways with trays of food and drink. Being the only official standing in the hallway would make Yue Qingyuan stand out like a sore thumb.

"Sit down, Fujun!" Qi Qingqi whispered desperately, pulling harder at his sleeve. She was already embarrassed enough, knowing that the attendees were whispering about them. Looking around surreptitious, she found that indeed many of the officials were shooting snide looks at them while gossiping about how Shen Qingqiu, the discarded spouse of Yue Qingyuan, was now elevated to a higher standing than the Yue family.

"Who would have thought, someone like him, becoming an empress?"

"He certainly upgraded," the Minister of Ceremony said to his companion with a snicker.

"Imagine being divorced by his husband for a younger wife, only to become the Prince Consort."

"It's certainly better than being just a Second Spouse," a junior minister sitting behind them whispered. Hearing that, she turned around to glare at the man, who looked away while sipping his wine.

Fortunately for her, Yue Qingyuan's legs finally gave way and he sat down onto his seat. His face though was still ashen and slack from disbelief. But Qi Qingqi didn't care about that. She just didn't want anyone to gossip about how her husband was still hung up over his ex-husband during such a public event. As it was, shame was making her face burn a bright red. What a jinx Shen Qingqiu was! Couldn't he just quietly marry a small official rather than pompously airing out the fact that he was divorced!?

"Shen Qingqiu," said the young warrior beside them, who Qi Qingqi recognised as the oldest son of General Liu. He turned to look at Yue Qingyuan, who was still staring at the dais with an air of desperation.

Liu Qingge was a handsome young man who was steadily making a name for himself in the battle fields and proving himself to be a worthy heir for the Liu family. Qi Qingqi's father had contemplated marrying her to him once, before Qi Qingqi had gotten a glimpse of Yue Qingyuan and fallen in love with him at first sight. She had spent days convincing her father to help her stage the first meeting between Yue Qingyuan and herself.

Now though, she was second guessing herself. Perhaps she should have listened to her father instead...

"Shen Qingqiu disappeared after you divorced him," Liu Qingge said, his volume bordering on loud and completely foregoing subtlety, much to Qi Qingqi's surprise and annoyance. "You claimed that he was taken away, did you not?"

"No, he left on his own accord," Qi Qingqi answered instead, irritated that these men were focusing on the discarded trash that just happened to catch the eye of a demon.

"He left, with Tianlang-Jun," Liu Qingge repeated her words. "Leaving with a demon would be preferable than staying in the capital as a divorcé."

Yue Qingyuan made a choking sound and she could feel him tremble where she was still holding onto his arm. She squeezed his biceps as hard as she could in warning.

"Pull yourself together," she whispered to her husband angrily. Wasn't she embarrassed enough already?

"If I knew you were going to abandon him just like that," Liu Qingge continued, ignoring her glare. "I would have taken him away myself, Lord Yue."

At that, Yue Qingyuan slammed his palm on the table and turned to glare at the general's son.

"Shen Qingqiu's advice to my father about the weaknesses to the barbarians' battle formations was what led us to victory in the west borders," Liu Qingge said, unaffected by the venomous glowers from the Yue couple. "He would have done well as an advisor to the general."

"Now the demons will benefit from our loss," agreed his father with a nod. "A pity."

Yue Qingyuan's hand was now curled into a tight fist and Qi Qingqi wondered if he was about to punch Liu Qingge. She hoped not. Her reputation would never recover if he did.

"Ambassador Huli did mention that the empress went into battle with their Junshang and became the lynchpin to the complete unification of the demon world," someone behind her whispered and she sneered to herself at that.

When Shen Qingqiu was still available to their court, no one wanted to listen to him and even belittled him to his face. Now they are lamenting what a loss losing him was!? What a bunch of hypocrites!

"The Prince calls Shen Qingqiu 'mother'."

"...acknowledges him. When Prince Su becomes Emperor, will Shen Qingqiu become Empress Dowager as well?"

"An orphan with no standing, now a Prince Consort. He certainly has his ways, doesn't he?"

"Used Lord Yue to elevate himself, now he's the empress."

"He's just a demon prince consort!" Qi Qingqi exclaimed impulsively, almost too loud. Fortunately for her, none of the demons on the other side of the hall heard her annoyed statement since they were too rowdy in their celebration. But the officials near her all heard and someone actually scoffed at her.

"And you're just a Second Wife."

She whipped around to see who it was who brazenly said that but no one looked at her or gave her any indications on who the culprit was, going back to their conversations and food as if nothing happened. She grinded her teeth and had to stop herself from spitting out that she was the Yue family First Madam now. Never mind that she was a step, she was now Yue Qingyuan's First Spouse!

Qi Qingqi wished she could leave the hall without seeming rude. Emperor Huang would surely censure her and her husband if they were to get up and leave at just the beginning of the celebration.

Hadn't she suffered enough for the past three months!? Ever since that jinx left, her husband had been wallowing in so much self-pity that he couldn't bring himself to visit her courtyard! Even worse, he wasn't listen to her requests or complaints anymore, often just staring out into space despondently and ignoring her.

She just couldn't understand this man. Didn't he want this as well? He'd agreed to the divorce himself. Now he was acting as if Shen Qingqiu had been the one to write him the divorce papers!

She never signed up for all this when she agreed to marry Yue Qingyuan!

Fuming, Qi Qingqi prepared herself to sit through the worse wedding she'd ever attended.

***

The celebration for the coronation lasted for a week.

(On retrospect, it was a good thing he'd vetoed his husband's suggestion for a full month of celebration earlier.)

By the last day, Shen Qingqiu was ready to throw in the towel. He was so tired out from the drinking and eating as well as the socialising, which was what he dreaded the most every morning.

Worse still, his husband had taken the opportunity to 'celebrate' their union every night like it was their wedding night. Wringing orgasm after orgasm from Shen Qingqiu till he begged for mercy from his husband.

Let him rest! (Or rather, let his ass rest for a night!)

But no, even after crying pitifully from overstimulation in his husband's arm, Tianlang-Jun had continued to bring him to the height of pleasure by sucking him dry.

The next morning, Tianlang-Jun strutted about proudly with a red hand mark on his face.

He was lucky that they both had good healing prowess (or rather, Tianlang-Jun's blood parasite worked wonders). By afternoon, his bruised face was handsome again and Shen Qingqiu had forgiven him for the abuse he'd inflicted on his peach butt. At least, until night fall.

Shen Qingqiu surreptitiously yawned behind his fan as Su Binghe inspected the sweet goodies on the table.

"A-Niang, what is this one?" Su Binghe asked, putting a yellow square pastry on his plate.

"Oh, it's a pine pollen cake," Shen Qingqiu told him. "You won't find it here in the demon world. We don't have pine trees here. At least, not the edible kind."

"I've never been to the human world before," Su Binghe said, putting his spoon in his mouth and muttering around it. Shen Qingqiu gave him a look and he quickly pulled the spoon out.

"When your father and I have time, we'll bring you there," Shen Qingqiu said offhandedly, shuffling the calligraphy pages the prince had handed to him. "Here, re-copy this poem. Your writing here is very wobbly and uncertain."

"Yes, A-Niang," Su Binghe replied, taking the papers and putting them aside to correct later. He picked up his spoon again.

"Shizun," Shen Qingqiu corrected, though there was no heat in his words.

"Shizun," Su Binghe parroted obediently as he scooped a large spoonful of the cold pudding Shen Qingqiu's chef had prepared for them and chomped down on it.

Shen Qingqiu pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his adopted son's mouth, "Eat slowly."

Su Binghe grinned at him, eyes crinkling shut and Shen Qingqiu couldn't help but feel just a smidgeon of fondness for the boy.

When he looked up, he was simultaneously unsurprised and disconcerted to find Yue Qingyuan standing in his personal gardens.

How did this man even get in here? Did he scale the walls? How did he even know where Shen Qingqiu was?

And didn't he already say all he had to in their last meeting?

"A-Jiu, please, may we talk?" Yue Qingyuan asked plaintively and Shen Qingqiu sighed in defeat. But he couldn't deny his ex-husband such a simple request. Not when he looked so unwell, with his sunken countenance, pale lips and swollen eyes.

Also, there was no point dragging things longer. Better to cut ties completely and without further ado.

Su Binghe was glaring venomously at Yue Qingyuan since he appeared, but it turned into a full on pout when Shen Qingqiu got up.

"A-Niang!" the boy whined but Shen Qingqiu ignored him as he exited the pavilion they were having tea in.

"What is it?" Shen Qingqiu asked, his tone cold and professional. He stopped a distance away but it didn't stop Yue Qingyuan from eagerly coming forward. When he tried to reach for Shen Qingqiu's hands, the cultivator in green stepped backwards without hesitation, maintaining a distance between them.

"A-Jiu-" Yue Qingyuan started but was interrupted by Shen Qingqiu immediately.

"Please do not call me that anymore," he said firmly. "I am no longer your husband. You gave me divorce papers, remember?"

At that reminder, the devastation on Yue Qingyuan's pale face became even more prominent.

"I didn't. I didn't mean for this to happen," Yue Qingyuan said and Shen Qingqiu had to curb the urge to physically slap him in the face.

"You didn't mean to divorce me by handing me divorce papers? Or did you mean that you didn't anticipate me leaving and instead, expected me to wait for you after putting me away in storage like a dried out piece of jerky?" Shen Qingqiu couldn't help but retort instead. "I'm a living being. I have emotions. I'm not something you can push aside to make your young wife the priority and then be alright with being picked up again like I'm an object."

"I'm sorry, A-Jiu!" Yue Qingyuan said, hands fluttering as he made an aborted movement to grab Shen Qingqiu's hands. "I thought that you would understand why I prioritised A-Qi and the baby."

"So you're saying that it's my fault that I didn't want to be neglected?" Shen Qingqiu couldn't believe the gall of this man. "Excuse me for being so insensitive to your feelings. I should have bowed to your every whim and shut my hurt feelings. I am so selfish for wanting the love of my husband. Even if it is just an ounce of it."

"I do love you!" Yue Qingyuan insisted.

"And what a fantastic way of showing it. Marrying another woman despite my protests. Ignoring my complaints, neglecting me, hitting me when you promised never to hurt me, blaming me for things your wife did, divorcing me to make your second wife the official spouse," Shen Qingqiu listed. "Honestly, Yue Qingyuan. There's only so much someone can take. Even a saint has their limit and we all know that I'm not that."

Yue Qingyuan bowed his head in shame when Shen Qingqiu started counting the ways he'd been wronged and when he finished, Yue Qingyuan asked in a small voice, "Do you truly no longer love me?"

"What use is it loving someone who abandons me repeatedly?" Shen Qingqiu returned, his inflection monotone and unfeeling. "I'm not a dog. I'm not so forgiving, or so blindly loyal."

Those words seemed to hit Yue Qingyuan hard as he gasped as if his heart had been dug out and tears started falling from his eyes. Then, to Shen Qingqiu's utter shock, he fell to his knees in front of him.

"A-Jiu! A-JIu! I'm sorry! Please come back," Yue Qingyuan begged pitifully, reaching out to Shen Qingqiu again. "I know I was wrong! I truly did neglect you. After you left, I went to your courtyard and your servants told me everything."

But before he could touch Shen Qingqiu, Su Binghe ran forward and pushed him down. Then he wrapped his arms around Shen Qingqiu's middle.

"A-Niang is ours now! You can't have him back! You didn't want him! So it's your fault you lost him!" shouted Su Binghe as he tightened his arms around Shen Qingqiu's waist.

"Binghe," he reprimanded but he didn't say anything else about Su Binghe's possessive behaviour. The boy had grown up without knowing much familial love. It was only after his stepmother's arrival that his cousin and father finally paid attention to him. There was no way Su Binghe would let his stepmother be taken away!

To be honest, Shen Qingqiu understood his thought process. As someone who didn't have much growing up, Yue Qingyuan was the only one he had and as a result, he had held onto him like a barnacle, unwilling to compromise even an inch when it came to his love.

Perhaps that was his biggest mistake. Loving Yue Qingyuan too much.

Perhaps Yue Qingyuan had found it all too suffocating and without realising it, searched for ways to establish a distance with him.

Well, now he was free from Shen Qingqiu's all too consuming love.

"You should be glad," Shen Qingqiu said, unmoved by the pathetic display from Yue Qingyuan. Once, he would have been done anything to hear Yue Qingyuan plea for his return. Would have jumped at the chance to be with his first love again, starting the unending cycle of pain and suffering once more. But now, he knew better.

He was happy here. He belonged here. Where he would be appreciated for his intelligence, cunning and ruthlessness, instead of being condemned and looked down upon merely for his birthright.

"You can have as many political marriages as you want without me weighing you down now," Shen Qingqiu said. "You will no longer have a blight in your family and you will no longer have to worry about evil schemes from me."

"A-Jiu, I don't- I don't care about any of that anymore!" Yue Qingyuan insisted, his words muffled by his sobs. "I won't marry any other! Just come back!"

"We're done, Yue Qingyuan," he said firmly to his ex-husband. "We were already over the moment you broke your promise."

"A-Jiu..."

"You promised that you will love no one else," Shen Qingqiu said.

"Now you will have to love someone else."

***

"Is it over with?"

Shen Qingqiu looked up from his mirror, putting down his comb. He got up to help his husband undress.

"Yue Qingyuan came right? Binghe told me," Tianlang-Jun said, watching Shen Qingqiu intently.

"He did," Shen Qingqiu answered. "I've said what I wanted. It is over now."

"I wonder though," Tianlang-Jun said, lifting his arms so Shen Qingqiu could remove his belt. "Yue Qingyuan is oddly persistent, isn't he?"

"He's always been like that," Shen Qingqiu said with a sigh. "So rash. Never thinking of the consequences."

"You do not regret it then? Leaving Yue estate?" Tianlang-Jun asked and Shen Qingqiu gave him a look.

"Are you being insecure?" Shen Qingqiu replied wryly. "I never thought I would see the day that you'd be insecure about yourself."

"I'm not insecure about myself," Tianlang-Jun returned.

"Just about my feelings for you," Shen Qingqiu finished for him.

Tianlang-Jun didn't grace him with an answer to that. He just stared at Shen Qingqiu expectantly, waiting for his reply. The intensity of his gaze would have intimidated anyone else. But it made Shen Qingqiu feel... heard.

"You do not need to worry," Shen Qingqiu said, finally. "I am going no where."

"You are my husband now," he continued, pulling Tianlang-Jun's outer robes off. "For better or for worse."

Tianlang-Jun put his hands on Shen Qingqiu's shoulders.

"Qingqiu," Tianlang-Jun said, kissing Shen Qingqiu gently on the lips. "For better or for worse."

Then he wrapped his arms around Shen Qingqiu and put their foreheads together.

"My Empress," Tianlang-Jun said, a note of reverence in his voice. "You will stay with me forever, won't you?"

Shen Qingqiu stared into his husband's eyes and answered with complete honestly;

"Yes."

End Chapter Three: Until I Found You

I would never fall in love again until I found her I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into" I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her I found you

~ Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez

Notes:

Not LBH downright calling SQQ his mother just to stake his claim. And I imagine LBH going cuteness overload with SQQ just to rub it in the Yue couple's faces whenever he spies them. Did TLJ put him up to shadowing SQQ like a little duckling? Nope. He did it on his own accord. Sticky little rice ball.

Did Qi Qingqi have the worst time of her life? You bet she did. She was so humiliated she didn't even come out of her chambers for an entire week. The servants rejoiced! Peace for a whole week!

Also, LQG cameo-ed because I wanted it. Lol. In another world, LQG would have been the one to snap SQQ up. Even if he never met TLJ, SQQ would have left the Yue estate regardless after the divorce and when LQG catches wind of it, he'd have hunted SQQ down and taken him to the borderlands where SQQ would have become the general's advisor and thrive there. Will I post this fic on tumblr? Maybe. For now, you can find it at myAO3 acc under the pseudonym demoniqt.

Prologue

Epilogue

#Remarried Empress AU #SVSSS #SQQ #YQY #TLJ #QQQ #LQG #Harem AU

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boydiisaster · 3 years

Note

It's so awesome there's blogs like yours out there trying to provide content for GN and Male fans. It's so hard to find anything even GN, and as a nonbinary person I just want you to know how much it's appreciated! If you're okay with taking requests right now, I have an Obey Me one? Do you have any headcanons on a poly/throuple relationship between a GN MC, Satan, and Solomon? Those two are surprisingly good friends in canon and alike in a lot of ways, I love them both so much!

throuple satan and solomon headcanons

reader: gender neutral, they/them pronouns

tw/cw: a bit of spoilers and fighting/blood mentions

author's note: AWW YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY YOU'RE SO NICE, ANON :,) i'm trying my hardest to provide more content for other male and gender neutral readers out there, so i really hope that what i write is enjoyable for yall <33 also i haven't the slightest idea of satan and solomon's canon relationship because i'm only at like lesson 30 smth and don't keep up with my messages so i just pulled most of their dynamic for this out of my ass ( ._.)

It was like a cat just met a dog when Satan and Solomon started dating. They have similarities, sure, but whereas Satan is cold and calculated with his spells, plans, and pranks, it's as if Solomon doesn't think. Like, ever.

How was someone so smart so insufferably stupid at the same time? It's as if Satan is his babysitter more than he's his boyfriend.

Oh god and when Solomon ropes you into doing something with him-

"I hate you both," Satan grumbles, checking your temperature and seeing how it's well above the normal temperature for humans. "Solomon, you can't just drag MC on all your dangerous adventures. They're much more human than you are."

"Just because I accidentally made a spell that cursed me with immortality doesn't mean I'm any less human than they are." Solomon crosses his arms at his boyfriend's hurtful words. "Besides, MC wanted to come with me. Isn't that right, MC?"

You didn't speak. That was probably because you had passed out from how incredibly fatigued you were. Your skin was sticky and noticeably sweaty, eyes closed shut while letting out painful whimpers.

"Tell me again just what happened to them?" Satan groans as he opens a spell book. God knows where he got it. He did that a lot. He was like a video game character or something the way he'd just pull books or spell jars from out his ass. He was always the one Mammon would ask for a pencil, because hell he had like hundreds on him at all times.

"Well," Solomon cheekily smiles and scratches the back of his neck. "We went looking for some herbs for a new spell I concocted."

"Uh huh?"

"And MC sort of... fell."

"What did they fall on, Solomon?"

Said man falls silent. "Solomon?" Satan drags out his lover's name, threatening him, to which all Solomon can do is smile again, this time more nervous.

"They kind of, maybe, fell into a bush of what could have been poisonous flowers...."

"What kind of poisonous flowers, Solomon?" Satan glares at him.

Solomon thinks for a moment, then clasps his hands together. "Let's just say that if we don't get Diavolo or Lucifer in the next," he looks toward a clock, "fifteen or so minutes, MC might fall asleep for probably a whole millennium."

That earns the sorcerer a big thwack to the back of his head by Satan's spell book.

That was probably the first major incident where you were dragged into Solomon's dangerous plans, but it certainly wasn't the last. Most of the time you either ended up with several scrapes or bruises, things Satan or Solomon could easily patch up on their own. But sometimes you'd come back missing a shirt or as a cat.

(It's hard for Satan to be mad at Solomon for accidentally turning you into a cat, but he manages it because you were furious.)

... You were a really cute cat though, MC.

A cat was frantically trying to climb up Satan's pant leg. He was out in the garden tending to his flowers when a kitty he'd never seen before made their way through the bushes and crashed into his leg.

"Hello little one," he smiled at the cat. "Are you lost?"

The cat let out a pitiful wail and latched themselves onto Satan's leg. Satan frowned a bit and started to get worried. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

He picked up the cat to examine them. They were a cute little thing with [eye color] eyes and a sleek fur coat. Satan couldn't see anything physically wrong with them. Their paws looked fine, and there was no blood anywhere.

"Did you lose your mom? Maybe your kitten?" he began to muse, then Solomon exploded through the bushes looking frantic as ever.

"Have you seen a cat?" he gasped for air. "About this tall, [eye color] eyes, clearly upset?"

"You mean this one?" Satan held up the cat he found.

"Yes! Give them here-"

The cat hissed and clawed at Solomon's hand, burying themselves further into Satan's grasp. They growled, then looked toward Satan to let out another pitiful whine.

"MC, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Solomon cried.

The cat hissed again.

"I'm sorry, did you just say MC?"

Solomon stiffened. He started to laugh nervously, fiddling with his cuffs. "Uh... would you break up with me if I told you I turned our darling MC into a tiny cat...? If so then no, I didn't say MC."

"You did what?!"

"Oh would you look at the time! I have a meeting with Lord Diavolo I must attend to right now, goodbye Satan, I love you!"

And then Solomon left, leaving Satan to fix whatever spell he put on their partner by himself. Satan wasn't angry about it, but the look of pure rage on your little furry face was enough to let Satan know that if he kept you as a cat for a moment longer you'd raise hell upon everyone in the vicinity.

Having a pact with a demon means that pretty much everything you do is shared with said demon. You feel emotions stronger, god forbid if you feel their specific emotions. You could be angry at Mammon for swiping a bag of candy you bought for yourself, but you act as if Mammon robbed you of every last thing you had just because of the pact you share with Satan. He feels awful about that, even though you reassure him time and time again that:

1.) It's not his fault, and

2.) You wanted a pact with him

Even so, please give Satan cuddles and kisses after he gets all sulky. He acts composed, but on the inside he's so incredibly self-conscious of both his sin and his pact with you.

"You need to be more careful," Satan quietly mused as he bandaged your hurt hands and face. You had gotten into a fight at school because a demon shoved you, and now you were currently inside Satan's room, getting blood all over his pretty carpet.

"I know," you softly sighed and hissed once the rubbing alcohol came into contact with the cuts on your face. "I just, I don't know. It set me off for some reason."

Your boyfriend hesitated for a moment, then applied a bandage to your cheek. "It's because of the pact."

"Satan-"

"You know I'm right, MC." Satan didn't look at you when he talked. Instead he looked at his lap, which had the first aid kit he was using to fix you up in it. "I know I talk about this a lot but... I am truly sorry for doing this to you."

"Hey," you cupped his cheek. "It's not your fault. I can learn to live with this. I learnt to handle my greed, envy, and gluttony when I built pacts with your brothers, right?"

"You shouldn't have to though. Maybe it's best if I-"

You silently kissed him. It was a bittersweet kiss, one filled with love yet unspeakable sadness and hurt. Satan was so self-conscious of his sin, yet you loved him still anyway. You wished he could see that.

"Don't finish that thought," you whispered as you pulled away. Resting your forehead against his, you continued. "I love you. Despite your sin, despite how you were born, despite everything; I love you. I chose you, and I wanted a pact with you." You smiled, and Satan couldn't help but blush at your next sentence.

"You silly demon. You really can't see how amazing you are, huh? It's okay though, because both me and Solomon will always be here to remind you."

Solomon touches all your pact marks constantly. When you take off your shirt it's hard to stop him from touching Leviathan's mark located directly on your back. He's always rubbing his fingers over Beelzebub's symbol on your stomach, always outlining Mammon's mark on your wrist. Sometimes he kisses Belphegor's symbol on your throat. When meeting your eyes, he never fails to stare into the one that holds Lucifer's mark, and even though you cover your thighs almost all the time, it's like Solomon can tell where Asmodeus's mark is. It's his favorite place on your thigh to touch.

You sighed whenever you felt Solomon's lips touch the small of your back. A smile made its way onto your own lips as you giggled.

"I didn't expect Satan to place his mark somewhere so... subtle," he admitted as he popped up to press a kiss to your cheek.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He was playing with your wrist again, looking at the symbol of greed that adorns your skin.

"Solomon," you started.

Your lover hummed. You could tell he was beginning to grow drowsy. His eyes were closed and his movements slowed.

"Are you... jealous?"

That woke him up. He made you face him, and the expression he wore was unreadable. It worried you. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, like," you grew embarrassed. "Um... you're always touching my pact marks, or always looking at them, and I don't know. Are you mad at me for them?"

The sorcerer gently grasped your hands. His fingers were weirdly soft considering how much he uses them. He sat there for a moment, just running his thumbs over your palms before speaking.

"I am a little," he admitted. "But I'm not mad at you. If anything I'm proud."

You smiled a bit. It was a lopsided and awkward sort of smile, but to Solomon it was the most beautiful thing in the world, as cheesy as that sounded.. He loves seeing his partners happy. He loves seeing you happy.

"You're much stronger than you think," Solomon continued. "Being able to hold seven different pact marks, ones belonging to Avatars, as a human with no sort of prior knowledge on magic?" He beamed. "You're incredible."

That only embarrassed you more. You groaned a bit and tried swatting Solomon away to hide your face, but your lover only pulled you in for a short yet loving kiss.

"You're cute, you know that?"

"You're cuter," you retorted. Solomon just smiled.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear. Speaking of which," he leaned back on your bed and made grabby hands at you, indicating that he wanted you to lay next to him. "I'm tired. Cuddle me."

"So needy," you joked, but instantly complied to Solomon's request. He was never like this in public. It was nice seeing him so open and vulnerable... and cute.

#THANK YOU SM FOR CLARIFYING YOUR HEADCANON REQUEST!!#i'm not poly myself so i never know if i should like-#make the feeling of romantic love be mutual between every person in the relationship?#or just have the two characters love the same person and not each other [weep]#i always feel like im disappointing the poly readers out there writing stuff that way #anywho tho i hope you enjoyed this!! it was a blast to write <3 #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #obey me satan #solomon obey me #satan obey me #solomon x reader #satan x reader #solomon x gn reader #satan x gn reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #ethan.writes

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alarawriting · 3 years

Text

Black Cats

Before the story starts I feel the need to remind people that I am an atheist and I use Christian mythology the way I’d use Greek or Gaelic, ie, as fiction. But, if you’re Christian and you feel that this story reads like a genuine Christian fiction, then great! Mainly I just want to help to protect black cats.

***

In the Garden, there were no black cats.

Back then, before the fall, cats were brown, or grey, or white, or orange, or some combination. Like the dog, the cat had been charged with being a friend to humanity, their job to chase and eat little creeping vermin who might befoul food. Adam and Eve didn’t truly need such an animal; within the Garden, food was plentiful and grew everywhere, and when they wanted to hunt, the dog was there to help them with the chase and then with disposing of the carcass. So the dog stayed by their side, all the time, while the cat remained aloof, coming by occasionally for a pet before running off to their own hunt.

To be aloof, however, does not mean to be wholly uninterested in. There was a calico cat who loved Adam and Eve for petting her, and for being warm – for even though Eden was warm enough that Adam and Eve slept naked under the stars, everyone knows cats prefer even more warmth than that. The calico cat would lie with them when they were sleeping, her furry body warming the human she slept on and taking warmth from them, purring until she fell asleep.

Humans have free will, but God, who sits outside time and knows all, knows what they will do before they have done it. God surely knew the Fall was coming, and that humanity would need the cat.

One day the calico cat tried to catch a serpent for her meal, but failed. And because food was plentiful, the cat didn’t pursue. There were easier targets. The cat, of course, did not know that the serpent was a demon sent to tempt humanity.

After Adam and Eve ate the apple and were driven from Eden, cats and dogs went with them, among them the calico cat and her grey tabby mate. The cat did not show it, for she had her pride, but she was humiliated and ashamed at her failure. If only she had caught that serpent, her human friends would never have been driven from Paradise.

So she called on God, who in those days was more willing to come when called upon, and said, “I must atone for my failure. God, can you give me the power to hunt demons like the one that tempted my friends?”

“Your job is to hunt the rats and mice that will plague humanity,” God replied. “Now that they have been driven from Eden, they must grow food in the field, and the small vermin I have created will eat that food and despoil it with their droppings. You must chase and devour those small creatures to keep humanity’s food safe.”

“I understand,” the calico cat said. “But I want to do more, and my mate as well. I let the serpent be because I didn’t know what it was. Give me sight to see demons, Lord, and I will hunt them and harry them away from my humans as well. And give it to my mate, so that our kittens can do the same.”

“I will do more than that,” God said, and reached down and touched the cat on her nose. The white fur on the cat darkened to black. Her orange patches remained, but grown through with black fur, they were more like autumn leaves scattered on a bed of earth than a patch of orange flowers cut and laid out on white stone. The cat’s mate came to see what God was doing, and God transformed him as well, so instead of a grey tabby, he was now all black.

“You are my black cats,” God said. “For demons come from the caves of Hell, where very often it is dark, and they love to come out in the night. You have the power to see those demons for what they are, and you can hunt and kill them and drive them back to Hell. Any cat who is your descendant and has some of your black fur will have the power you do.”

And so for many generations, the black cats harried demons away from humanity the way that all the cats harried the mice and rats and shrews who would eat their grain, and the birds who would steal fruits from bushes on the ground. (What grows on the tops of trees is given by God to birds, as well as to humans, who have a power few animals do: the power to climb trees, and to climb back down. Sometimes, cats, arrogant with their power over the hunt, forget this and climb a tree to chase a bird. Many of those cats must be rescued by humans. The tops of trees were never given by God to the housecat.)

But Satan saw this and was angry. How could his demons reach humanity and continue to corrupt them and lead them to Hell?

Satan had a plan. What he knew, and what humanity forgot, is that a man who dedicates his life to God is still a man, prone to all of humanity’s temptations… including that of Pride. Men of God, believing themselves without sin because of their power to absolve the sins of others, were vulnerable to the whispers of Satan in their ear, just like any other man. And being proud, arrogant men who expected all to bend to their will… they did not like cats. For a cat has never been a human’s loyal servant, like a dog; cats do the work they choose, in their own time. They help humanity because it is the task God charged them with, not because they wish to please a human master. The dog sees his human master as God, but the cat has spoken with God, and knows the difference between God and man. Any man.

Men of overweening pride and authority do not like how the cat will not submit to them. It was the easiest thing for Satan to whisper to them, “Black cats serve the devil,” and for them to believe it, without proof. For why would a creature be coal black like a demon from Hell, and yet not be a demon from Hell?

These men were men of God, not hunters, or they would know how the hunter clothes himself in the colors of the deer in order to hunt the deer. And they were too certain of their own wisdom to consult anyone else.

By their decree, black cats were slaughtered, and other cats as well, and Satan laughed. And then he launched his greatest offensive against humanity since he sent the serpent. He sent demons to carry diseases and put them inside the bodies of rats. Too many cats had been killed; they could neither harry the demons away, nor kill the rats. And thus one third of all the humans who had heard and believed in the word of Jesus Christ died.

Eventually the plague ended, and humanity rebuilt, but there is no way to know how many stories, how many inventions, how many works of art, how many great scientists, how many people who bring kindness to all they touch… how many of them we lost, the people who were never born because their ancestors died of plague, all because men of God too easily trust the voice of Satan, and people with faith in God too easily trust men rather than the voice of God in their own hearts. All those souls lost, whether in the end they went to Heaven or Hell, are humanity’s loss, and a victory for Satan.

When lies are set among the people by those they trust, those lies never come to an end, no matter how often they’re proven untrue. Even today, there are people who believe they serve God, who serve the devil by harming God’s black cats, believing that the cats are evil, and not that the falsehoods they were told about the cats were.

But the cats remain loyal to the task they accepted from God. Black cats, tortoiseshells, cats with white bibs, cats with white socks… any cat with black in her fur can see demons, and chase them away from your home. All cats protect humanity from vermin, but it was the black cats who were made black by God so they can better stalk demons.

#alara original writing #christian mythology #cats

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kkeidawrites · 3 years

Text

That Night

Chp. 3

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Another banquet was in full swing in the next couple of days that the moon goddess had first arrived and once more the same activities from before resurfaced. The sunrays of Asgard minimized to a light hue of yellows and purples, it would soon be night.

Gods and Goddesses, Dukes, Duchesses, Lord and Ladies alike littered the alabaster halls of the banquet hall. Each one dressed to impress, all colorcoded for the theme. How can anyone have so many parties every other day? It’s exhausting to say the least. Just imagine how much the servants had to prepare in such little time, it will amaze you.

This time the party was held in the gardens, overlooking Asgard’s lavish lands of green fields. Men and women rode horseback to play games, others included themselves in a fighting ring while everyone else lounged about and talked.

The food never disappoints and it seemed to never run low. Before your head would turn away from the lavish feast, it would automatically refill itself. Everything looked beautiful, the gold trim that surrounds the white pillars and green shrubbery elongated and twisted in beautiful vines around the pillars and added a bit to the dining tables as well.

For someone who has never been to Asgard and this was their first time they would be enthralled with the beauty of this place; the gold, the alabaster stone walls, the food, the style, the attire. It was like a dream come true. Except maybe a certain, moon goddess, who thought differently.

Mawu was bored. Stupid bored in fact. She was that bored that she had brought along Irawo to the banquet to keep her entertained. And let’s not forget the God of Mischief himself to keep her company as well. How delightful.

They stood at two different tables although it didn’t help the fact that Frigga used her powers to make sure that the tables were at least facing each other and with it she spelled the tables to only allow them to walk to and from their tables.

“Three hours you two,” she told the two as her fingers flexed to allow her magic to filter from her fingertips. “The spell will break once the hours are up, until then why don’t you both talk. Get to know one another.” She gave her charming smile and left the two beings.

“‘Get to know one another’.” Mawu mocked them scoffed in annoyance as she watched Irawo hop around on the table.

Mawu saw that there was no point in trying to break the All-Mother’s spell and occupied her time playing with Irawo; Loki in the meantime was doing everything in his ability to break his mother’s spell. From time to time you would see the illuminated green light of his spells.

Mawu feeds Irawo another carrot and the chunky rabbit munches it down, greedily and wiggles his nose in Mawu’s direction, happily waiting for the next carrot to be given to him and the goddess smiles.

“Sorry, Irawo. I don’t want you to pass out on me and go into a carrot coma,” Mawu teases and the rabbit stomps his foot.

“No more carrots right now, okay?” She watches as the rabbit begins to groom his head aggressively to show that he was unhappy. Mawu shakes her head and placed a hand under chin as she watched the festivities unfold.

She couldn’t believe that she had to stand in this one spot for the next, now two hours, and not be able to move anywhere. Mawu so desperately wanted to go horseback riding, and use swords against the opposing team. Hell, even the fighting ring looked appealing. It was much more entertaining than stand here and be bored.

“Damn it.” She hears Loki sigh out in frustration and looks to her right to see the green wearing God cross his arms and lean against the table in frustration.

“Having fun over there?” Mawu teases and Loki glares at her.

“I thought we agreed to only tolerate one another until you left Asgard.” Mawu rolls her eyes and turns back to Irawo.

“You spoke to me about it. I didn’t agree to ahem, tolerate you. As long you don’t bother me I won’t bother you.” Mawu tells him and Loki grits his teeth.

Irawo turns to Loki and wiggles his nose, sniffing the air and his gold eyes noticed the carrots on Loki’s plate. He squeaks and jumps from the table making Mawu gasp.

As he landed on the grass, Irawo uses his paws to groom his face once more then used his nose to snif around the area then pounces over to Loki’s table.

“Irawo! Come back!” Mawu calls to the black bunny, who promptly ignored her and began pawing at Loki’s leg to have him pick him up.

“Heh, little mongrel.” Loki reluctantly picks up the rabbit and placed him on the table where he quickly grabbed a carrot from his plate and proceeds to eat.

Mawu sighs heavily and moved over to Loki’s table to look down at the rabbit. She placed her hands on her hips and glared, disappointed at the bunny.

“I said, ‘no more carrots’.” Mawu said and watched as the rabbit takes a lettuce and eats that just as quickly as the carrot.

“You would refuse your pet food? How cruel of you, I thought you were the Goddess of Knowledge and Wisdom, shouldn’t you know that everyone has the chance to eat?” Loki says and Mawu frowns in annoyance.

“I am trying to limit him from eating so much, he had dinner less than an hour ago and the snacks I had was his snack. Breaking him of this, won’t allow him to limit what he eats.” Mawu says trying to pick up the rabbit but, Irawo squeals and moved over to Loki, the God of Mischief barks out a laugh in victory and Mawu glared at him.

Irawo snuggles his muzzle into the God’s hands and Mawu crosses her arms.

“Fine, stay here with him then.” Mawu pouts as she returns to her table and takes a sweet bun and begins to chomp on it, annoyance written all over her features.

Loki grins triumphantly and scratches under the rabbit’s chin to have his foot stomp in pleasure of the scratches.

“Well done, little hare.” He praises the furry creature. “Well done indeed.”

The next two hours went by excruciatingly slow and Mawu breathed a sigh of relief as the feeling of restraint on her body lifted off of her.

Stretching her arms, Mawu sighed and looked to Loki’s table to see the trickster playing with Irawo. He dangled the silk rope that held his cape against his back, above Irawo as the rabbit hopped to try and grab it.

It would seem that she didn’t need to keep an eye on Irawo and Mawu hopped that Loki wouldn’t do anything to her little friend. Not sensing any ill intentions towards Irawo from Loki, Mawu made her way over to the stables where the horses were being tended to for tonight’s parties and approached a stablemate. She could see that all the horses were gone and prayed that at least one horse was still available.

“My lady we unfortunately do not have any available horses for you to use.” The young male stablemate told her and Mawu pouted a bit.

“I guess it can’t be helped-” The sound of neighing turned Mawu’s body to watch as two stablemates that could be strongmen in the circus back on Earth, hold the reigns of a large black unicorn. It tussled with the reigns it was bonded in and pulled on it to make the men stop pulling it.

The unicorn neighed in anger and stomped the ground to force the men to drag it. Mawu was amazed at how big it was and seemed drawned to the unicorn.

Mawu felt her feet move as she approached the mystical being. The stablemate watched her in perplexed fear and reached out to stop her.

“My Lady, you mustn’t approach him!” The stablemate stepped in front of her making Mawu stop and look down at the young man.

“That colt was bred by a demon horse and ever since it has been a struggle to keep it under control. It won’t let us come close to it and we have to use force in order to control it-”

“Him.”

“M-My Lady?”

Mawu glared at the young man.

“Do not call him, ‘it’ he is a strong horse and surely calling him out of his name does little to gain his trust.” Mawu says as she walks past the man and continues her travel to the two bigger men.

The one on the right holding the unicorn’s reigns turned to Mawu and fear lit up in his eyes as the Goddess continued to approach the horse, who reared back in effort to be released from his clutches.

“My Lady, please stand back! He’ll kill you!” He warned but Mawu stops and turns to the two men.

“Let him go.” Was all she said.

“But-But, My Lady-!”

“Let. Him. Go. Please.” Mawu says again, still watching the unicorn who began to huff out angry air from his large nostrils. His green and gold eyes glared at the goddess and stomped his upper left hoof in anger.

The two strongmen looked to one another and then released the reigns taking several steps back readying themselves for the horse to begin to buck and cause havoc around the stables.

The unicorn did indeed rear back on its hind legs and Mawu watched him intently, being mindful of his hooves. Once the horse returned to all fours, Mawu raised a hand out, her palm facing the horse who huffed out another angry snort.

Trotting around Mawu, the Goddess didn’t let up from her spot, her hand still out, waiting patiently. Her plan was to allow the unicorn to relax around her and let him come to her. Let him trust her in his own time.

As the unicorn calmed, he nods his head up and down, snorting the last of his anger out and trots over to Mawu. He sniffs the back of her head and then nibbles her neck, making the goddess stifle a giggle. He then moved to the left side of her face and sniffs her some more. All the while the three stablemates stared in disbelief. They have been trying to get close to the unicorn for the past two months and the moon goddess was able to allow him to get close to him in less than 30 minutes.

Mawu showed that she wasn’t a threat to the unicorn and her calming aura allowed the horse to calm him down.

The unicorn then nibbles on her raised hand then sniffs it. Taking a step back, the unicorn looks in the goddess’s eyes and sees that he was indeed not in danger and hesitantly allows his muzzle to press into her palm.

Mawu gently rubbed his muzzle then moved her other hand and scratched under his chin. The unicorn neighs in delight and moves his head closer to receive more scratches.

“What is his name?” Mawu asked her eyes still trained on the unicorn.

“H-He d-does not h-have a name.” The youngest stablemate says and the unicorn neighs softly.

“Hmm....how about Gbekele?” Mawu asked the horse who unexpectedly nodded his head, then nibbling her scratching hand.

“My-My Lady, do you p-plan on riding him?” The young man asks the goddess.

“He still does not trust me, I do not think he would let me ride him.” She says and grabs the unicorns reigns, leading him to a stall. As he approached the stable Gbekele began to trot in place, fear returning to his eyes as Mawu did her best to calm him down.

“Gbekele, please calm down,” she tells the beast but, it rears back in terror making Mawu release his reigns.

“Lady Mawu, stand back!” Her eyes cut to the left and she sees Thor and two more stablemates come rushing into the stables.

“No! Don’t come any closer!” She tells the men but, they seemed to not hear her as the four stablemates run past her and try and grab the reigns of the beast. Gbekele rears back and neighs in anger.

Mawu felt his aura become more and more confused and his anger rose tenfold.

“No, please! Don’t touch him!” She yells to the men who once again either ignored her or didn’t hear her. One man was able to grab the reigns and another grabbed the back of his bridle. The horse rears back in anger and begins bucking. The unicorn spins in a circle as he continues to buck and Mawu was unfortunately close enough to luckily miss the hooves of the horse, make her stumble on her feet and fall hitting her head on the large salt lick.

Mawu couldn’t open her eyes anymore and allowed unconsciousness to take her.

A few minutes prior to the accident...

With Loki

Growing tired of playing with the rabbit, Loki sighed and looked around the area at the many nobles. He was insanely bored and he honestly wondered where that little moon goddess went. Now that he thought about it, he never realized how beautiful she looked tonight. For someone who is undeniably insufferable, she was a beautiful woman. Loki twisted his fist under his lips and felt his cheeks flush.

Yes, he thought about her, and what of it? She was beautiful, headstrong, and she spoke of war games like a veteran. She was perfect. If anyone offered her hand in marriage she would make a great queen. He didn’t know what it was that kept making him follow wherever she went, but, he didn’t want to stop.

It was fun messing with her, and mess with her, he shall. He wasn’t named the God of Mischief for shits and giggles.

He saw she had went to the stables and decided to check there. Not wanting to leave the rabbit, he used his powers to make Irawo disappear and made his way to the stables.

As he grew closer to the stables, the sound of shouting and a horse grew louder. Something inside of Loki made him begin to feel a sense of worry in the pit of his stomach. Walking closer, a yelp of pain was heard and by the time Loki turned the corner to enter the stables his eyes widened at the scene unfolding before him.

A black unicorn was stomping his hooves in the hay based ground being held by the reins by three men and Thor and a younger man was helping up a smaller body up from the ground. Loki’s eyes looked where the body once was and his green irises noticed the blood on the salt lick and then his eyes traveled to the one person he has been looking for this evening. Mawu was cradled in his brother’s arms bleeding profusely from the head and Loki phased over to his brother’s side.

“What. Happened.” Loki gritted out as he glared at his brother.

“A stablemate came over while I was in the fighting ring and told me that Lady Mawu was in trouble. I wrangled a couple more stablemates and I saw that Lady Mawu was trying to tame the beast but, it reared back and made her hit her head on the salt lick.” Thor explains and Loki takes the goddess in his arms and gently turns her head to see the extent of damage. He then stands up, while carefully holding the goddess in his arms. Her head landed on his chest, her lips were close enough to his neck and he held in a gasp from the sensation.

“I will take her to the medical clinic,” his eyes turns to the slightly calm unicorn that huffs in Loki’s direction.

“Get rid of that beast. I don’t want to see it in any stables of Asgard.” Loki says and a green light allows the God to disappear from view.

Arriving at the medical clinic, Loki kicked the double doors and called for a physician. Not a second later, a woman in grey robes came rushing towards him and she saw the injured goddess in his arms.

“Place her here, your majesty.” She instructs, pointing to a cot and Loki carefully set Mawu down moving back to allow the physician to do her job.

Loki didn’t know what to do. How did this happen? Why did he allow this to happen? Loki moved the cloud of hair she possessed and held her cheek.

“Thankfully, her wound is not severe,” the physician says making Loki look up at her.

“I will have to monitor her for the rest of the night.” She continues and Loki nods.

“Keep me updated on her well-being.”

“Yes, your majesty.” She bows and Loki uses his powers to disappear.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The God of Mischief slams the doors of his room open and stomps over to his bed, plopping down in anger. Why was he so angry? He didn’t even know. Or perhaps he did.

He was frustrated about seeing her that way, but, then again why did he care so much anyway? Running his hands through his inky locs, Loki sighed in irritation then used his powers to allow Irawo to reappear. The rabbit snuggles into the side of his thigh as soon as he was released then squeaks.

“Your mother is in the clinic,” he tells the rabbit and the creature tilts it head. “She was hurt. How she handled the situation was so reckless of her!” He ranted to the rabbit as the furry begins to groom his head.

“She should have realized that that beast was unruly and she goes and gets hurt anyway!” He continues as he stands up and begins pacing, ranting still.

“She’s such a insufferable, uncouth, bratty, disobliging...beautiful, caring, degnified woman.” Loki’s rant slowly turns and he returns to sitting on his bed sighing with his hands folded in his lap. Irawo squeaks and Loki casts a spell and hands the rabbit three carrots. It happily eats the treats and Loki grins wryly.

“At least you are a better listener than Thor, then again I wouldn’t go to him with my problems, he’s just as insufferable as the Goddess.” Irawo squeaks once more as if agreeing with the trickster.

“You’re right, he is much more unbearable. My mistake.” He scratches under the rabbits chin and then thinks about the well-being of the moon goddess. Hoping, praying she would be alright.

Something like this was unfamiliar for the God of Mischief but, perhaps it was finally melting his frozen heart.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Ch. 1⬅️

Ch. 2⬅️

Here’s Chapter 3 enjoy it! Like, comment, reblog and be sure to ask me anything in the inbox.

See you guys!

#black reader #black!reader #fanfiction #my writing #loki x black!reader #loki marvel #loki laufeyson x reader #black oc #marvel x black!reader #african!goddess reader #that night chp. 3

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

Text

The Viscount and The Witcher pt.1/4

(Note: Reposted from my old blog. The rest can be found on my Ao3 or on my pinned masterlist)

Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz de Lettenhove was bored. He’d been bored for some time now. In his youth he’d dreamed of becoming a travelling bard. He’d even focused his time in Oxenfurt on the liberal arts and had graduated quite successfully from the academy, but before he’d even begun his journey to becoming renowned troubadour, he’d been called back to his family home. The news of his father’s death had been an unfortunate one and he’d been forced to step up and become head of his vast estate.

There had been a moment, in the dead of night, witching hour, when he’d very nearly picked up his lute and fled.

He hadn’t.

He’d turned over and gone back to sleep. He did have a rather luxurious bed and he’d not been short of company to fill it with. He often wondered what would have become of him if he had run away that night, at barely eighteen. He often dreamed of the songs he could have written, the people he could have met, the adventures he could have had.

A deep part of him sorely regretted the path not taken.

Instead he drowned his sorrows in the most delicious wine from Toussaint and lured beautiful people to his bedchamber. He was determined to enjoy the few pleasures left to him in gluttonous amounts.

He gazed out of the window of his study into the gardens. They were stunning at this time of year. They weren’t the most well kept gardens, but he liked that. He enjoyed the wild long grass and the litany of yellow, white and purple weeds that sprung up in the summer. The sounds of bees filled the air, a constant low buzzing that he found both soothing and wildly distracting. He enjoyed a long stroll in the gardens when he wasn’t buried under paperwork. Quite frankly he didn’t give a rat’s ass about the different silk sheets used in the guest bedrooms or whether the local houses were paying their taxes in time. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all of that diplomatic nonsense just disappeared?

Poverty could become a thing of the past. He’d given away vast amounts of his fortune whenever he could convince his lawyers to let the assets go but his estate only thrived more as the farmers, workers and merchants were able to work more efficiently and invested more funding into their livelihoods.

He couldn’t begrudge them that but he felt guilty for owning so much when they lived on so little so he kept feeding his money back into the surrounding villages and they kept growing and expanding their homes and businesses.

None of the surrounding lords or barons could understand how he did it.

He couldn’t exactly explain it himself.

He had been hoping to run his estate into the ground so he could run off and have the heroic adventures that he’d always dreamed of. Perhaps he would even run into one of those witchers. He was fascinated by witchers. He always had been, ever since he was a boy and he’d heard the rumours of the Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia. The rumours were that the man had slaughtered an entire village with his bare hands in some kind of blood-fuelled frenzy.

Julian didn’t believe that for a second.

He’d snuck down to the library and buried himself under books, scrolls and parchments, anything in his father’s great library with even the whiff of a witcher. He’d read bestiaries and fairytales, utterly bewitched by the tales of fae, vampires and werewolves. He devoured everything he could by candlelight. It was what had driven him to his chosen career as a bard. He wanted to experience those stories himself, he needed to live it. His thirst for knowledge and innate curiosity had seen him through Oxenfurt with ease. He’d been able to spend far too long in taverns and brothels whilst his peers studied books and manuscripts that he’d read within the first months of attending the famous school. The library had been enviable and he’d been unable to stay away for months.

He sighed dramatically. It had all been a fucking waste of time. He closed the leather-bound book he’d been scrawling in, even after all these years he couldn’t help the flashes of creative inspiration that hit him. It was like a vampire’s thirst, burning in his throat and heart. He had to write, he had to play and sing and dance. He ran his fingers along the underside of his writing desk until he heard a faint click and a drawer popped open. He tucked the book neatly into the draw beneath the pressed dandelion.

Dandelion.

It was to be his stage name had he followed through with his plans.

He’d kept the pressed yellow flower as a reminder. He picked it up and twirled it between his fingers before sighing loudly.

“Master Dandelion, renowned troubadour and poet.” He pouted before gently returning the flower to its cage and closing the drawer shut, it vanished into the wooden desk without a trace. “I supposed it is quite poetic,” He whined. “I am like the flower trapped in my own cage from which I cannot escape. The flower which holds my name and soul shares my fate.”

He groaned and bumped his head against the desk. The long feather in his hat flopped down, tickling his nose. He promptly sneezed.

“Ah. To the gods! Even my own hat hates me.” He moaned.

Thankfully he was pulled from his self-pity by a knock at the door. He jumped to his feet and straightened his hat, tucking the treacherous heron feather back into place.

“Come in!” He trilled.

Annabelle, a pretty redhead and one of his longest serving maids entered the room. “ Lord Lettenhove.” Annabelle curtsied.

Julian rolled his eyes and pulled the girl to her feet. “Annabelle, dearest, how many times must I ask you to call me Julian and none of this grovelling nonsense. Tell me, how are your family? Your mother was sick, is she feeling any better? I trust she received the medicine I sent.”

Annabelle blushed and smiled up at him. “Yes Lord Let - Lord Julian. Thank you very much. You are too kind to us.”

“My darling, I simply have nothing better to do with my fortune than ensure my staff are well looked after. How’s the little one, Eleanor if I remember correctly?”

“Yes, Lord Julian. She’s growing up fast. My sister told me she started to crawl yesterday.” Annabelle answered meekly.

Julian gasped and put his hand to his chest. “And you missed it! Oh my dear, my sincerest apologies.”

Annabelle shook her head. “I love my job, Lord Julian. There is no reason to apologise. You’ve already done far too much for my family.”

It was Julian’s time to blush. He hated how much his staff revered him, didn’t they realise his motivations were purely selfish? He just wanted to get out of this house! He wanted to leave them. They just didn’t see any of that but he didn’t let his frustration show. “Now now, they’ll be time to sing my praises later, my dear, what was it that you needed? We are not due another order from the farms yet are we?”

The girl laughed quietly. “No, nothing like that. Forgive me, Lord Julian, I don’t mean to make assumptions.”

She shuffled awkwardly on her feet. “Well go on! Don’t keep me in suspense like this.” He pouted with a hand on his hips.

“There’s a rumour going round, Lord Julian.” She blushed. “About a witcher in one of the outer villages. They were having problems on the full moon. Mysterious and gruesome murders.”

Julian wanted to jump for joy.

A real witcher.

On his land.

“Oh my!” He clapped his hands together. “We must send for him at once!” He ran to his desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment. “Now tell me Annabelle what monsters are more enticing to a monster hunter, vampires or werewolves?” He scoffed before she could answer. “No no, that’s too obvious, and unbearably dull. Nekkers? Oooh, what about a draconid? A forktail perhaps?”

Annabelle kept opening and closing her mouth but there was no interrupting Julian when he got like this. He barely even noticed he still had company.

“Or a wraith!” He laughed gaily. “Oh yes that will do nicely! A wraith haunting the attic! Then we may get to see the witcher in action, oh the tales I could write! Maybe I could publish them under a pseudonym, Master Dandelion may yet still live!”

His hands flew over the paper as he scrawled as quickly and elegantly as he could. Once he was finished he read it over quickly, cornflower blue eyes scanning over the words quick as lightning.

My dear witcher,

On behalf of Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz de Lettenhove, I would like to thank you for offering your services to assist our villagers with their furry little problem. I write this letter before the news of your success has reached me but I have no doubt that you will succeed in your quest! You must tell me whether you have slain the beast or cured it of the lycanthropy. I await the tale of your heroic adventure with great anticipation.

The Lord Lettenhove requests your presence at his estate. You see, my dearest witcher, we have a little pest problem of our own. A wraith haunts the house and our poor chambermaids are quite at their wits end with fright.

I beseech you. Don’t delay.

Yours, Dandelion.

He chuckled at the name. He was going to have a lot of fun with this witcher, whoever it maybe, and he didn’t need the witcher knowing exactly who he was just yet. He sealed the letter swiftly and all but shoved poor Annabelle from the room so that she could deliver it hastily.

He followed after her and practically ran down the corridor and up the stairs to the master bedroom. He flung open his wardrobe as he hummed a new melody under his breath. He needed to choose an outfit. Something that was less Viscount and more genius bard.

He stripped off his golden doublet and trousers in exchange for his favourite plum set. It had intricate embroidery around the collar that he just adored. He paired the doublet with a white undershirt with lace around the cuffs and collar.

He took off his hat and twirled a strand of his soft golden blond hair in between his fingers. He’d been growing it out lately, he was really just so bored, and he’d been considering experimenting with some curling irons like he’d seen his cook use. He was certain that Hanna would show him how to use them if he asked nicely.

But did he have enough time for that?

He still needed to set up his wraith problem, and it needed to be convincing enough to keep the witcher around long enough to get to know him, perhaps he could even lure the man to his bedroom if he were that way inclined.

Gods he hoped he was.

It had been too long since Julian, no, Dandelion, had had a male lover.

Well, if he was planning to seduce the man then he really should look his best but first he needed to make sure that they stage was set. He picked up his old forgotten lute from the corner of the bedroom, gently trailing a finger down the neck of the instrument before quickly plucking at the strings and fiddling with the pegs to make sure she was still in tune.

“I am so sorry darling.” He cooed to the instrument. “It’s been too long.”

He tucked her into his old lute case and appraised his reflection in his mirror.

“Hmm…” He stuck his tongue out as he concentrated. “Not quite right. Oh yes! My hat!” He swiped up a matching plum coloured bonnet and pinned a feather in place because plopping it onto his head. He looked back at his reflection with a furrowed brow and then inspiration hit him and he tilted his hat so he fell slightly to one side. “Perfect!”

He giggled and bowed dramatically to his reflection. “Master Dandelion, at your service!” He grinned seductively.

Oh this witcher would have no idea what hit him.

#the witcher #geraskier #gerlion #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #julian alfred pankratz #viscount de lettenhove #geralt x dandelion #dandelion #wolfie's witcher writing #the viscount and the witcher

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zutaraangtastic · 4 years

Note

imagine your polyship adopting a cat together and everyone fawns over the cat like they’re everyone’s child (bonus if the cat is Zuko's and named Your Honor.)

Coming back to these prompts after a little break (reminder that we are not accepting new prompts; we received these before July 1). Accidentally gave this cat fic a little plot, hope you enjoy! - Mod J

While waiting for the rest of his family and a picnic lunch to arrive in the garden, Zuko notices Izumi crouched in the dirt. Normally, she’d be sitting on the bench, reading in the shade—unlike Kya, who’s laughing wildly and kicking around in the fountain, thriving in the hot Fire Nation sun.

Zuko humors her, lets her splash him and treats her to some slow and easy firebending counter-moves that make her wobbly water whips sizzle into steam. It was refreshing and cooled him off at first, but it has gotten a little tedious to keep drying his robes every five minutes. He’s not dressed for play, just stealing an hour away from the day’s endless succession of formal meetings to spend some time with his lovers and their visiting children.

(His children, in some way—they’ll have to get all that out in the air sooner rather than later, before the oldest two figure it out on their own. His daughter is too smart for her own good, and Bumi is more observant than Katara or Aang realize.)

Izumi still hasn’t moved, so Zuko tells Kya to keep practicing, maintaining a watchful eye on her as he goes to find out what has Izumi’s attention.

He hears it before he sees it: a small, rumbling growl coming from a dark gap beneath the wooden walkway and the ground. Izumi stretches out a tentative hand, but on instinct Zuko pulls her back just as a set of teeth snap near her fingertips. She yelps in surprise, and his heart jumps into his throat with panic that she might be hurt. Her hands are shaky, but otherwise unscathed. Zuko breathes a sigh of relief.

Kya arrives at the site of the commotion, wielding a tenuous rope of water. She lashes it towards the gap and misses, splattering the walkway instead. Izumi jumps to her feet and wards Kya off before she can try again.

“No, don’t hurt it! Avatar Aang says to respect all life!”

“I know that, he’s my dad!”

Zuko spots Katara making her way across the garden to them, a welcome sight amid the chaos. While she sorts out the girls’ argument, he lowers his face close to the ground so he can peer into the hole, holding a small flame for light. A ferret-cat is coiled at the deepest end, its feline eyes gleaming at him before it turns its head away and resumes digging, presumably trying to tunnel its way out. It’s hard to tell, but it looks injured, half of its ear torn, its fur dark and wet in places.

It must have wandered into the garden after a fight. There haven’t been any ferret-cat families here in a long time—after how Azula terrorized them, Zuko wasn’t surprised when they disappeared. It’s hard to believe that that childhood, good and bad, is almost 30 years gone.

He’s spent much of his time as Fire Lord working to restore relationships between the nations. Restoring one with the local fauna shouldn’t be too great a task.

After she finishes explaining the animal crisis to Kya and Katara, Izumi turns to Zuko with imploring eyes. “Can we help it?”

Zuko smiles and squeezes her hands gently in his. “Of course,” he says, and looks to Katara. “Do you know where Aang is? Earthbending might be most useful here.”

Katara nods. “I was thinking the same thing. He just put Tenzin down for a nap, so he should be on his way.”

Just as she says it, Bumi appears around the corner. He sprints down the colonnade parallel to the garden, with his father chasing behind by air scooter. Judging by his casual poise, Aang isn’t really trying to win their race, unlike Bumi, who arrives sweaty and panting. He nearly trips over Kya, earning him a sharp look from Katara, which goes ignored as he turns and waits with his arms crossed. Aang leans forward to speed up in the last stretch only when he realizes he’s being watched.

Dissipating the air and landing lightly on his feet, he ruffles Bumi’s hair and says, “Looks like you’re just too fast for your old man!”

“Dad.” Bumi pulls a face and ducks out of Aang’s grasp. “I told you not to let me win!”

“If you didn’t think you were too old for air scooter rides now, both of us could’ve won.” Aang grins, arms akimbo, and flashes a quick wink at Zuko. “Problem-solving is my middle name, just ask your Uncle Fire Lord. At least he listens to me, most of the time.”

“We’ve got one for you, O Wise One,” Katara says, at the same time as Izumi glues herself to Aang’s pants leg and tugs him to see the ferret-cat, explaining how she found it.

Zuko moves out of the way, gesturing for Bumi to wait his turn. The boy still sulks, but less so when Zuko gets him to talk about his practice training with the palace guards. Getting all fired up about it again, he reenacts some of the kicks and stances he’s learned, and puffs his chest out when Zuko nods approvingly. He barely seems to notice Katara tailing him, attempting to smooth down his hair. Zuko catches her twinkling eyes over Bumi’s head. He fights a smile and tries to stay interested in Bumi’s rambling and cartwheeling.

It’s Kya who sends up the cry when the kitchen servants arrive with lunch. Aang waves for them to start without him, nudging Izumi to go join the others. Katara and Zuko shepherd the kids to their chosen picnic spot under the shade of a maple tree, while Aang sets about fashioning an earthen cage.

Bumi and Kya chow down eagerly, while Izumi only picks at her rice. She nods when Katara encourages her to eat, but she’s distracted, watching Aang. He sits in lotus on the walkway, waiting patiently.

“I thought he was going to earthbend it out,” she says, frowning.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to scare it,” Zuko suggests. “Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing. If you really want to help, here.” He takes the top off a bowl of steamed meat buns and hands it to Izumi. “Food might coax it out. But you have to eat some of these too, okay? Don’t give them all to the ferret-cat.”

Izumi jumps to her feet, smiling brightly. Then she pauses and looks from the bowl to Zuko. “But Avatar Aang is vegetarian. Will I hurt his feelings?”

Katara exchanges a nearly saccharine look with Zuko, her eyes reflecting the melting of his own heart. “It’s okay, honey,” she says, patting Izumi’s hand. “He won’t mind. Uncle Sokka has practically made him immune to the smell of meat, I promise. And, you can tell him we’ve got vegetable buns for him once he rescues the ferret-cat.”

Izumi nods resolutely and hurries back down the little hill. She lays down a trail of buns leading into the makeshift cage, before sitting next to Aang, painstakingly copying his position. Zuko watches, almost overwhelmed with warmth, as Aang assuages Izumi’s hesitation, gesturing to the food for her to eat.

Across the picnic blanket from him, Katara wipes Kya’s mouth clean and chides Bumi when he burps, before she releases them, warning that they’ll scare the ferret-cat if they play too loudly. They end up in the fountain where Kya was before, within sight but a safe distance away.

Katara scoots closer to Zuko, laying a hand over his, and he leans on the other as he twines their fingers together, low enough to stay hidden.

“Izumi’s really growing up, isn’t she?” she remarks.

Zuko groans. “Don’t say that, she’s only eight. I want her to stay this way forever.”

Katara laughs lightly. “You’ve done well with her,” she says, and she sounds almost wistful.

He wonders if she daydreams as often as he does about a life where they could raise Izumi and the rest together full-time, where they could spend the whole day like this with Aang and their children.

But judging by the sun, edging past its midday zenith, it’s almost time for him to get to his first afternoon meeting. He’s just starting to think he won’t get to see the ferret-cat rescue for himself when a furry white-and-brown head pokes out of the hole. Izumi gasps, and Aang grins at her with a finger to his lips. While the animal busies itself with digging for the meat, he slowly raises the layer of earth it’s on and slides it towards the cage. Zuko and Katara stand to get a better view, and Katara beckons for Bumi and Kya.

The ferret-cat seems to notice the trap at the last second, but Aang earthbends the door into place before it can do anything. Everyone ventures closer once it’s clear that the cage is secure. Katara kneels, drawing water from her satchel and bending it between the gaps in the sides of the box to surround the ferret-cat in a healing blue glow. Izumi speaks soothingly to it while it hisses and squirms.

Smiling, Zuko bends to kiss the top of her head. Then he catches Aang by the shoulder, squeezing gently and resisting the urge to drop a kiss there, too. Aang’s eyes are shining as he looks fondly from the children to Zuko. It’s easy to read the gentle pride in his posture—Zuko knows that for all the world-saving and spirit-negotiating and political crisis-averting Aang’s done, he takes the most satisfaction in the small, everyday kindnesses. He’s always had this soft spot for animals especially.

“I have to go,” Zuko says, “but you know where the physicians’ wing is. I’m sure someone there has some veterinary experience.”

Aang clasps Zuko’s forearm, hand slipping up his sleeve and thumb caressing the way back down to his wrist. “You’ll find us later?”

“Of course.” Zuko reluctantly disentangles his hand and looks over his shoulder to add, “Izumi, be good and listen to Uncle Aang and Aunt Katara, alright?”

He leaves the kids discussing names for their new pet, with Katara jokingly suggesting something to do with honor and Aang interjecting that they might need to wait a while before the ferret-cat is ready to be domesticated. Kya and Izumi get into another argument over it, while Bumi unwisely sticks his fingers in through the gaps.

Zuko pauses one last time at the edge of the garden to look at his family, and knows he’ll spend this meeting daydreaming.

#zutaraang #zutara #kataang #zukaang #izumi #zutaraangdrabblechallenge #mod j #Anonymous

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kathyprior4200 · 3 years

Text

Haven Hotel: That’s Disengagement!

A princess with long black wavy hair walked out onto a high balcony. She wore a black undershirt with a white bow tie on top. A dark teal shirt, long white pants and white high heel shoes completed the look. Her face was pale white and teal blushes were present on her cheeks. Her eyes consisted of white pupils and dark blue sclera. Perched on her head was a black spiked crown. She was the inverted, antithesis of Charlie, the princess of Hell in a parallel world.

“For all my life, I’ve been taught that all angels have good inside them. But I know that to be a lie. Ever since Lucifer and Lilith, God’s closest angels betrayed Him… I don’t think I can believe in these flawed teachings anymore…”

The princess was Coerciona Egnam, Coercia for short. She was born and raised in Heaven…though she was not at all one would expect her to be in such a place. Self-entitled and pessimistic, nothing much could cheer her up except heavy metal music, rebelling against the rules and the occasional brawl.

“It makes sense that only a worthy few are able to be here in Heaven. Choosing them out of the sea of sinner scum. Yet ironically, even the saints and Heaven-born aren’t flawless all the time. It’s inevitable that all those imperfect beings will go to Hell. They deserve to deal with suffering and challenges. Best of all, they wouldn’t be bound by social expectations. Heck, I wouldn’t be too surprised if it were me. I do enjoy my comfortable life here, just not these restrictions.”

Her servants Pub and Chub were fat white naked cherubs with horns on their heads, small white feathery wings, and black eyes. One tested the strings on an electric guitar while the other shot out torpedoes from a small cannon.

Outside was a white clock tower standing tall against the blue sky. The numbers read 0 then changed to 365 days. Writing above the numbers read “Days until the next cleanse in Hell.”

The black Exorcists did their job in eliminating part of the demon population in 2P Hell like they did every year in the canon Hell. But at the same time each year, the Anti-Exorcists, risen white demons with white bat wings and horns, invaded 2P Heaven. They carried glowing black pitchforks and turned innocent denizens into demons. The Anti-Exorcists would carry books and tempt angels with their innermost desires. Sex, sin, self-expression, sorcery, whatever that need was. Then, once they were hooked, they were stabbed with the pitchforks, causing their wings to burn off and sending them plummeting down to Hell. Nearby families would grieve at their loss.

It was quite the entertaining show for Princess Coercia!

Coercia leaned against the marble balcony and began to sing in a low growl.

(“I’m Always Evading Shadows”)

“At the end of the journey, there’s suffering

Denying it, how often I’ve tried

But my life’s a disgrace

Just a slap in the face

And the harsh truths have all been denied”

“A sliver of despair in this world of light

I know this world’s not free of sin

I search for the good

But get misunderstood

And reality will always win”

“Why have I always been imperfect?

Lost in this brainwashed sea

I wonder if the world’s to blame

I wonder if it could be me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Trapped, drowning in the social flow

Free-will forbidden, my answers are hidden

Lying down below”

“Some people sugarcoat their speeches

I always blab out what I mean

I may be cruel but I am no fool

Things are never what they seem

Believe me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Waiting for people to awaken

In vain”

A nearby portal opened and out came the Exterminators, bloodstains over their wings and bodies and harpoons. They took off their creepy LED masks, their white angelic faces revealed. One by one, the citizens clapped and cheered. One of the Archangels with four black wings flew up to the front, his spiked halo glowing. He took off his mask, revealing a white stern face with yellow eyes and short black hair. In his utility belt were a few daggers, whips, chains and a bottle of emergency holy water.

“Another successful purge,” their leader Samael (Venom of God) praised. “You cleansed more sinners while still keeping the population in a good balance. Well done, all of you.” He cleared his throat and made a cross symbol over his heart. “For the greater good in the name of our Lord.”

The angels repeated the phrase.

“Until next year. Dismissed.” The Archangel soldiers saluted and then flew off separately to see their families. Several of the angels, having been brainwashed in their Exterminator states, shook their heads sadly at what they had done.

All around Coercia, Holy City was basked in a heavenly glow. The city was located up in the sky among the clouds, but no one had to worry about falling, even the ones without their wings out. A large church with the appearance of the Notre Dame Cathedral stood proudly in the city square, made of polished marble. Choirs and songs floated through the stained glass windows as the regular angels went in and out to pray and visit with their neighbors. A large fountain sprouted non-alcoholic wine of a golden color. It had a white statue of Mary and Jesus as a young boy at the top, both with welcoming faces.

The streets were spotless and clean. Roofs and roads were powered by the sun’s rays. The Cloud 9 supermarket had endless amounts of food for sale…no one ever had to worry about going hungry. Charity workers and volunteers worked by the dozens, passing out food and bestowing miracles for those who needed them in the lower levels of Heaven. Metatron, the highest ranking angel, was busy keeping records of human lives, deaths and the messages of God.

This version of Heaven was very similar to the Heaven in the realm next door, the one above the familiar Hell with the Hazbin Hotel. The architecture was almost the same. But unlike those angels with their blonde hair and red blushes, these angels most often had black hair and teal blushes on their pale cheeks. Like in the other Heaven, some of the bipedal angels displayed animal-like characteristics: some had heads of doves, others had swan wings and mannerisms. Many of them had fur, ears, and fluffy tails of dogs and wolves. It was the only place where dogs and cats could dance and prance together without conflict. Still a few others had faces of flowers or even objects like harps and musical instruments.

God’s Palace was the grandest place of all: it was settled at the highest point of Heaven like Mount Olympus. Only a few angels were allowed to visit there. God’s abode, the Empyrean, had an elite group of angels guarding it. Seraph angels with six fiery rainbow wings guarded the throne of God, chanting “Holy, holy, holy!” much to the annoyance to those nearby. There were rumors that in the palace gardens, the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge were grown there, heavily protected.

Lucius and Lilian were Coercia’s parents, those who took the place of Lucifer and Lilith after they were banished. They were named the new king and queen of heaven (Under God and a few Archangels), thus Coercia became the princess.

Lucius had a white face, teal blushes on his cheeks and short dark hair. Lucius wore a gray suit with a dark blue bow tie and a black top hat with two white feathers attacked to the brim. Lilian’s hair was long and black, and she too had the teal blushes and typical angel features. She wore a golden halo crown and an elegant white sequined dress. Both had white wings which could turn black when they were angry or defensive.

In a nearby movie studio, Valentine the butterfly producer, Nil the TV angel and Ashen, the doll angel sat together playing a board game. Despite liking old fashioned shows and the like, they still controlled much of Heaven’s technology and media. Iris, owner of an emporium, cried as she crossed out the name of her former female colleague, Francesca.

Along the street, a red car stopped beside the sidewalk. A tall creature opened the car door and stepped out. The spider angel had a furry dark gray face and body, plus multiple slender arms: six in total. He wore tall boots, green gloves and a shirt with a teal bow-tie near the top. His shirt and sleeves had black and dark green stripes. Green dots resembling eyes were located under his eyes.

“Thank you for the ride,” said the spider angel.

“No problem, Devil Grit,” said the driver Sivart, a white furry owl guy wearing a top hat. He tipped his hat to him and drove away.

Devil Grit walked over to a vending machine and bought himself a granola bar. He then gave it to a homeless guy leaning against the wall.

He walked inside a building and onto a stage in an auditorium. His opponent was already standing nervously at his spot, a microphone rising from the ground and stopping in front of him.

Sir Anguis was the nervous white snake. He had a white face with large slightly teal eyes with white pupils. He wore a white bow tie with a blue circle in the center below his thin neck. Surrounding his face on a flap of skin were bright teal eyes against dark purple. His suit was light gray with dark purple vertical stripes. Finally, he wore a large light gray top hat with a large green moving eye in the center.

The crowd settled into their seats and the debate began.

“Those other brave do gooders will do great with helping me with my presentation. Anyone want to try?”

A couple of hands shot up. Mechanical eggs on robotic legs moved around to help out the white snake lord.

“Oh thank you, my Nestlings,” he said.

Air Anguis pushed a button and a presentation showed up on a screen titled “Heaven Economics and Invention Ideas.”

“I don’t like to fight,” Sir Anguis said, clearing his throat, “and I’m super nervous up here…”

The Nestlings rolled their eyes.

Devil Grit glared at his cowardly opponent who then yelped, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Heaven doesn’t need any future technology,” Devil Grit argued as he stepped to his podium, “because we already have better things: friendships, food, and fun.”

Sir Anguis glanced down nervously at his note cards and read from them. “At this rate I will persuade the entire East end of Holy City by night’s beginning. Or was it day’s end? And nothing, not a single beauty in this paradise of bliss, will be able to change my mind or escape the constrictive grasp of persuasive argumentation.”

“Heaven will be ours, though it’s mine in my mind. And everybody will know the name of…”

“Scared Snake,” said a female voice.

“W-who said that?” Sir Anguis asked.

“You ready for a debate, old man?”

The voice belonged to Berri Blossom, the opposite of Cherri Bomb in Hell. She was a tall cyclops with black skin, with a single green eye with a black cross in the center. She wore a long dark green dress and white high heeled shoes. Her black skin was decorated in some areas near her shoulders with tiny teal specks. Her long hair was curly, blue at the top and black near the bottom. She pushed her thin dark rimmed glasses up to her face, looking at her organized set of notes in front of her.

She walked over beside her academic partner Devil Grit. “Why don’t you play with your tinker toys somewhere else while I go over the logistics of divine law school?” She looked professional and poised. “Seven Reasons Why Heavenly Traditions Never Fail.”

“You want to go, madam?” Sir Anguis asked, a spark of rebellion in him. He fiddled with a few gadgets before the well-dressed Nestling eggs…egged him on to continue. He flicked his hood back. “Well, let the battle for tenure and status begin!”

A neon logo appeared on the screen, saying “777 News” surrounded by a halo. The names of the news cast appeared on the bottom of the screen.

“Good afternoon, Holy City!” smiled a pale woman with short black hair, wearing a light blue dress. “I’m Catie Carejoy!”

“And I’m Ron Wrench!” said the man next to her, wearing a business suit and who had a wrench for a head.

After discussing the weather, various humane societies, and legends on Earth, Catie continued, “The debate battle is underway between inventor and coward Sir Anguis and professional economics expert Berri Blossom. Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of His Majesty Lucius, who’s here to discuss her brand new passion-project! All that and more after the break!”

Inside the break room, Phalla the romantic butterfly angel adjusted Coercia’s white bow tie. Nearby, a blue tinted sign read “No smoking.” Another sign read “In The Air” in large letters.

“Okay, you remember what to say?” Phalla asked Coercia.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Coercia stated.

Phalla brushed her long black hair from her face, the ends of her black hair teal. Like Vaggie in Hell, Phalla’s thick hair extended down to her legs, giving her hair the appearance of moth wings. She had a glowing green cross over her right eye and her left eye was purple with a white pupil. A teal bow was perched on top of her head. Her skin was light gray and she wore a dark gray crop top with white Xs over her breasts. She also wore leggings, her right legging striped dark green and light gray, her left legging light gray.

“Oh this is gonna be great!” Phalla squealed happily. “How about you make your speech sound more exciting?”

“Come on, Phalla, I know what I’m going to say,” Coercia answered, crossing her arms.

Phalla walked over to the pitcher of ambrosia punch on the table. Pub and Chub ate bagels from the table. Phalla got an idea. “Oh! What if you…”

“Sing a song about it?” Coercia asked, with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to. This is serious!” She curled her hand into a fist and brought it down on the palm of her other hand. “They won’t take me serious if I start belting out some random song. Life isn’t a musical.”

“But neither is it an emo tragedy,” Phalla pointed out. “Life is great, especially with all the cute guys around.” Her single purple eye shinned.

“Romance, bleh,” Coercia made a face and Phalla giggled.

“Hey,” Phalla brightened, pulling out a piece of paper. “I have some ideas about what you could say.” She bounced up and down. “The highlighted bits are the best parts!”

“They’re all highlighted,” Coercia replied, scanning the paper. “You call your childish drawing your ideas for me?”

“Sure!” Phalla said. “Look here.” It showed a list of different terms “sinners = winners” “Misunderstood are still good” and “demons and angels party between worlds!” Skulls were lined up at the bottom of the page: “we’re all connected by death.”

“Say, that’s actually pretty good!” Coercia said with a smile of sharp teeth.

“Thanks!” Phalla beamed.

Coercia snatched the piece of paper from her friend and tore it in half, much to her shock. “But you should know my ideas are always better.” She tossed the pieces of paper aside, gave a salute and walked out the door.

Catie waved with a smile. “Hi. I’m Catie Carejoy.” She held out her hand but Coercia didn’t take it, instead remarking, “You can put that away. I don’t touch commoners, I have standards.” Catie, looked stunned, pulling her hand back. “So this project of yours, when did you come up with this idea of creating a hotel in order to…break the law as the rumors say?”

The angel crew murmured nervously.

“I’m gonna keep this short,” Coercia said as she walked over to the desk. “You might think my idea doesn’t hold water, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m too influential to give a flying feather about what some stuffy old news lady thinks of my proposal.”

The crowd gasped. Ron shook his head.

“Well, if you can’t take constructive criticism and be polite…”

“…and we’re live!” called a voice as a buzzer sounded.

“And we’re back!” Catie said, rushing over into her seat. “So, Carrie…”

“It’s Princess Coerciona Egnam,” said Coercia, sitting in a chair beside her and Ron Wrench.

“Sorry. So tell us about your project.”

Coercia took a deep breath. “As most of you know, I was born here in Heaven, and growing up, I’ve always tried to see the good in everything around me. But recently, I don’t believe that’s always the case. We just completed another Extermination. So many sinful souls lost but for what reason? God said in the Commandments “thou shall not kill,” yet killing random people is okay? If we can’t even trust ourselves with our actions and thoughts, is Heaven truly paradise? Not to mention that ever since Lucifer and Lilith betrayed Him, we don’t know who to really trust. Some people are given too many chances!” She pounded her fist on the desk, startling Catie.

Coercia stood up and made her way forward. “No one is truly flawless. Mistakes are made, but we get blamed for doing things we sometimes enjoy. Sex, drugs, partying, swearing, even violence. All because we don’t live up to impossible standards imposed upon us, both here and on Earth! I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such lies and propaganda! So, I’ve been thinking…isn’t there a more liberating way to hinder forced compliance here in Heaven? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to express change through…recreation?”

The angels talked quietly amongst themselves. Phalla nodded in appreciation.

“Well I think yes,” Coercia continued. “So that’s what this project aims to achieve.” She walked back to the desk and sat down. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind, a hotel that encourages moderate amounts of so-called sin!” She spread out her arms.

The audience stared in stunned silence. Many of the adults were shaking their heads.

“Who is that girl?” asked a dragon watching from inside a soup kitchen. “What’s her deal with trying to cause more trouble for this world?”

“She’s nuts!” added another angel with an eagle’s head and wings, wearing a suit.

Coercia added nervously while still trying to keep a glare, “I figure it would serve a purpose…a place to work toward self-expression. Yay.”

Among the crowd of angels watching the news outside, a tall man with a thin pale face stood toward the back. He wore a light blue dress suit, had blue and white hair, fluffy deer-like ears, and large blue eyes. His white wings were folded behind him. He watched the program with a look of worry. A deer creature made of light appeared beside him. A sign posted on the wall showing the same man as a DJ read: “Counseling and good times with the Techno Angel!”

A camera man shook his head at Coercia. Phalla walked up to him and pleaded, “Please give her a chance.”

Coercia sighed. “Look, I know every single one of you has insecurities and issues that need not be bottled up. If you could just embrace those sides of yourselves…”

Coercia then smirked. “Maybe I’m not getting through to you.”

Phalla clapped her hands and “ooohed” in excitement as Rub and Chub got the electric guitar ready.

Coercia showed a pair of sharp white teeth and black curved horns emerged from her head. Black feathery wings sprouted from her back and an X appeared over her right eye. A harpoon appeared in her right hand and a spiked halo appeared over her head. She was in her dark angelic Exorcist form. She posed over the desk and began.

(“Inside of Every Angel is a Sinner”)

“I have a dream

I’m here to tell

About a fantastic mind-blowing hotel

One of a kind, go and yell

A great place to dwell

Catering to specific clientele”

*Guitar starts and scream vocals*

“Inside of every angel is a sinner

Inside of every do-gooder is a beast

Inside of every jolly go-lucky mentality

Is a subconscious portion we know the least”

“Resist all the rules

You’re not passive fools!

With just a little time

Down at the Hazbin Hotel!”

“So all you rescuers, priests, and heroes

Gifted athletes, jocks, and cheerios

And the sheep citizens, relief is here!

All of you angels, leaders, and stars

Traditionalists with fancy cars

And the activists on Mars

Show no fear

No taboos, no laws

Embrace your flaws

You’ll be truly free

Check in with me

It’s the right path, you’ll see”

“There’ll be no more pressure

And no more status quo

Just friendship, fun, and endless bags of dough

Establishment put to rest

You’ll be like, “Yes!”

In the tunnel of darkness you’ll go!”

“So all your hierarchies, GMOs, politics, and isms

Lectures, labor standards, and diamond studded prisms

Ancient Indian elitisms

All must die”

“All you fantasizers, artists, servers, and lords

Spoiled children, winners of awards

Imposers of chores

Face your fear!”

“Be who you are

And you’ll go so far

Our service will raise the bar

You’ll be the star

Come from near or afar at the Hazbin Hotel!

Yeah!”

“Wow,” said an angel in a top hat. “That was…alright.”

The crowd clapped half-heartedly.

Catie shook her head. “What in the Nine Levels makes you think a single denizen of Heaven would give two feathers about becoming a sinful person? You have no proof that your little experiment even works! You want people to disobey God and the rules just…because?!”

Coercia lifted up her head. “Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause.”

“And who might that be?” Catie asked.

“Oh just someone named…Devil Grit.”

“The grumpy old spider?” asked Ron Wrench.

“He’s not old,” argued Catie. “He just acts older than he is.”

“Anyway,” said Catie to Coercia. “You couldn’t even get that guy to do something bad, even if a gun was pointed at his head.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Coercia argued. “He’s been troubled, dirty, and having conflicted thoughts for two weeks now.”

“Breaking news!” called a voice as the screen changed to a recent debate shown in a building.

The news came on, detailing Devil Grit and his recent TED talk about the 7 Heavenly Virtues.

“Well, it looks like the one discussing the Heavenly Virtues is none other than…conservative Devil Grit! What a coincidence!”

She and Ron did a “ratings!” and jazz hands.

Corceria rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry to say, but it looks like your plan’s departed on arrival,” said Catie. “I hope you learned a good lesson here.”

Coercia’s eyes twitched, her teeth barred. “Lesson?! I’ll teach you a lesson, bitch!” The princess and Catie fought fist and claw on the desk. Ron called for security.

After Coercia was kicked out, Phalla followed her wordlessly to the white limo. Devil Grit, Phalla, and Coercia rode back to the hotel.

Devil Grit lounged in the far seat, wearing an outfit of black with green stripes and green gloves on his four hands.

“Devil,” said Phalla with concern. “I know you were trying to do good by doing your professional speech. But could you please try not to help society in public? Now people won’t believe us when Coercia says that people are free to express their earthly desires.”

“I’m sorry Phalla,” said Devil from the other seat, “But I have a reputation to keep up. Helping the greater good is His plan for all of us. Besides, a good professional debate is a reasonable form of self-expression right?”

“Not to everyone,” said Phalla. “What about the hotel? People are thinking that you don’t care about Coercia’s project at all.”

“I do care, senorita,” said Devil. “I just don’t think it’s going to be easy to accomplish in such a short time. So many angels are fixated on tradition, myself included.”

“I do appreciate all of your help,” said Coercia, still fuming after the interview, arms crossed. “But I will make this project work, even if I have to do it myself.”

The white limo pulled up in front of the hotel, a pristine building made of glass and marble. The group got out of the car and stepped inside.

White wings made of rainbow scales posed as part of the structure on the roof. The stained glass windows by the door were decorated with apples, a tree of life, and many shades of blue and green. The sign above read “Hazbin Hotel” in big letters on the roof. Inside the lobby, a painting of Adam reaching toward God was displayed on the high ceiling. The hotel had seven floors with seven rooms on each floor. There was even a lab down in the basement which belonged to a man named Baker, the opposite of the demon fish scientist Baxter from Hell. A bowl of blue berries and blue raspberries sat on a table below a welcome banner. Phalla rested on a couch while Devil Grit munched on a granola bar.

“It’s probably a good idea to stock up some more food in this place,” said Devil Grit. “Good or bad, people always seem to be greedy when they’re hungry.”

Devil Grit pulled out a chart and went over probabilities and graphs regarding the hotel and the potential number of visitors. Coercia just sighed and walked away toward the door. She went outside and took out her cell phone, calling her mom.

“Carol cakes!” called her mother through the phone. Coercia cringed.

“Mom, I told you not to call me that! I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” said Lilian with a giggle. “How was the interview?”

“Meh. It was alright. I proposed my idea, but nobody seemed to buy it.”

Lilian’s tone turned more serious. “Coercia, why do you insist that everyone must go down to that horrible place? Why can’t you just see the good in people?”

“Because,” Coercia said, “Everyone has flaws and they don’t realize it.”

“Yes, but that also applies to you, too. Before you get involved with the lives of others, you need to look inside and critique yourself.”

“I’m a princess. Everyone else has more flaws than I do.”

Lilian let out a long sigh. “Young lady, we’ve been through this I don’t know how many times. You have to push your selfish thoughts aside and just accept the way things are. It’s part of a higher purpose.”

“And what is this “higher purpose” anyway? To be His flock of dazed sheep, dancing around without any care in the world? To not experience ecstasy and adventure, even for just a moment?”

“That stuff is dangerous and forbidden. Thousands of souls would do anything to get up to this level of Heaven. And you just want to throw your life away?”

Coercia paused in thought. “If it means proving myself and serving Him in a way I see fit, then so be it.”

“You have delusions of what entertainment and happiness is, Carol. Sometimes, you need to take the time and appreciate the beauty that’s in front of you.”

“Other than my own refection, I don’t really see beauty in many other things. Well, heavy metal and watching battles…oh and watching sinners beg for their last breaths…”

“You have a lot to learn, dear daughter,” Lilian replied. “I’ll leave you alone to think about it.”

“Whatever.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

Coercia hung up and went back inside, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the door frame, closing her eyes in frustration…trying to hold back a stream of tears from the stress.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Two knocks, four ones, then a last one. Coercia turned around with a sigh to answer it. She swung the stained glass door open. From outside stood a tall slender man with a pale light gray face, wearing a light blue pinstriped dress coat. A white upward cross was part of the design on his light blue undershirt. He was carrying a modern microphone atop a staff in his left hand. His small antlers were white and his hair and deer ears were blue with white tips. A monocle rested under his left eye. Coercia narrowed her eyes.

“Hi, excuse me…” he spoke quietly. “Is this…”

Coercia angrily slammed the door in his face.

She opened it again.

“…the right address?” finished the man.

“No!” she shouted, slamming it again.

“Hey Phalla!” called Coercia.

“What?” her friend asked.

“The crybaby Deer Man is at the door!”

“What?!” she asked, blushes appearing on her cheeks.

“Who?” asked Devil Grit.

“What should I do?”

“Well…let him in!” Phalla cried, eye shining.

Coercia rolled her eyes and scoffed. She sighed and opened the door again.

“May I talk now?” the man asked in a radio voice.

“Sure, whatever,” Coercia said.

The man held out a white gloved four-fingered hand. “Rotsala, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.” He walked in. Worry was etched on his face. “I saw your interview on the picture show and I was worried sick! I was afraid you were never coming back after your argument. Why I haven’t been that upset since the 1929 Stock Market Crash!” He sniffed, “So many poor orphans…”

“Hello there!” Phalla called with a smile, staring up and walking in front of him. She greeted in Spanish. “I’m so glad you’re here to help out my friend with this new hotel! I’m a big fan of yours and just being in your presence is just…” She swooned. “Oh just take me already you cute, pompous, talk show, blueberry pimp lord!”

She embraced him and he stood stunned, his face blushing. “I do love hugs,” he whispered as she stepped back. “I bet all of you would be so nice and soft after we get to know each other for a while…”

Phalla blushed while Devil Grit and Coercia made disgusted faces. “Not gonna happen, creep,” Devil Grit said.

Rotsala gave a nervous laugh, and popped a strawberry and blueberry into his mouth.

“You’re not gonna cling to us are you?” Phallas asked. “Or, you know…”

“Dear, if I wanted to screw anyone here…I would’ve done so already.”

Rotsala tilted his head. His blue eyes briefly glowed with blue upside down radio dials in them. Electricity sparked around cyan colored voodoo symbols in the air. His eyes filled with tears, tears spilling down his pale gray cheeks.

Phalla watched in bliss, while Devil and Coercia rolled their eyes at the show-off.

Rotsala shook his head and his eyes returned to normal blue.

“No, I’m here because I want to relax and help out.”

“Say what?” Coercia asked, eyebrow raised.

Rotsala held up his staff which glowed blue. He said with a sad crack in his voice, “Goodbye, is this thing off?”

He tapped it. A blue sad looking eye appeared in the center of the microphone. It spoke in a mechanical voice. “You’re silent, quiet and unclear!”

“That’s your motivation motto every day?” Devil Grit asked, crossing his four arms. “Pathetic!”

“Tragic and mysterious, I love it!” Phalla squealed. “It’s like the opposite of announcing. It’s…denouncing.”

Devil Grit elbowed her. “Hun, could you not get attracted to every other man you see? I’m your boyfriend.”

“I can’t help it, love!” she cried. “I just get so distracted easily.”

“Um…you want to help?” Coercia asked.

Rotsala appeared behind them after morphing into light.

“With…” he spoke in her growl then his normal shy sounding voice, “…this random thing you’re trying to do. This hotel. I want to help you run it, if that’s okay.”

“Uh…why?”

Rotsala choked a bit on his words. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything? Sheer absolute lethargy! I’ve been partying around and keeping busy for decades. I would like to do something more relaxing and easier.”

“My work became overwhelming, lacking focus. I’ve come to crave a new form of disengagement!”

Coercia rolled her eyes. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as disengagement?”

“No,” Rotsala said. “It’s violent and messy, not really my thing. Life is truly strange…reality, fantasy, true tragedy. After all the world is a grave, and the grave is a world of disengagement!”

Coercia brightened a bit. “So, does this mean you think it’s possible to taint an angel? That life is meaningless without your own self to temporarily control it.”

Rotsala sniffed and held up a hand. “Who knows? Anything’s possible. Sinning, oh the vice of humanity! I think there’s plenty left that can change such marvelous saints. But then again, the chance that was given to them was the life they lived before. The reward is this!” He spread out his arms. “According to God, there’s no undoing what is done…or at least that’s the way it should be.”

“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t fully believe in my cause?” Coercia asked.

Rotsala turned around to look at her. “Consider it an investment in ongoing knowledge for myself and others.” He let out a small smile. “I want to watch the blessed of this world struggle to give into temptation, only to repeatedly realize and raise themselves up the golden ladder of success!” His eyes glowed blue.

“Right…” Coercia began.

“Yes indeed,” Rotsala said, both of them walking off to the side. “I see you taking risks and who better to keep you grounded than I.”

“Ah, so what’s the deal with Mr. Frown over there?” Devil Grit asked.

“Wait, you’ve never heard of him before?” Phalla asked. “You’ve been here longer than me!”

Devil shrugged his shoulders.

“The Techno Angel, one of the most complex beings Heaven as ever seen?”

“Eh, I’m not too big on people.”

Phalla sighed and leaned in close to explain.

“Decades ago, Rotsala manifested in Heaven, seemingly in one day. He began to catch the attention of overlords and archangels who had kept to themselves for centuries. That kind of attraction and magic power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his adventures all throughout Heaven just so everyone could experience some joy, tragedy and emotions. Saints starting calling him the Techno Angel, (as unoriginal as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and constructive heroes. But one thing’s for sure: he’s an unpredictable source of silliness, a depressed spirit of mystery and a loving being of order…or disorder, the likes of which we can get involved in, especially if we want to end up aroused!”

“You done?” Devil asked. “He looks like a blueberry businessman. Or a shady con-man. Either way, you’re delusional.”

“Well, I trust him completely!”

“Do you blindly trust any man? All men?”

Phalla skipped over to Coercia. Rotsala examined a family portrait of Lucius, Lilian and a young Coercia in the center. Young Coercia wore a white dress with a turquoise top to it. Her hair was jet black, braided in black barbed wire, her cheeks had teal blushes. Her mother had long black hair and wore a fancy white dress and a round gold crown. Her father was dressed in a dress suit of white and blue, with blue and black stripes in the center below a white bow tie. He wore a large light gray top hat with a dove and a green apple on it. His cane also had a green apple on the top. Both of them were smiling, showing rows of sharp teeth, white wings folded behind them.

“Coercia, listen to me, you can believe this dreamer. He isn’t just a sad face. He’s a miracle maker, pure good! But… don’t count on him to believe in your cause. He could be tainted and rebel, but we don’t know that. He could very well side with God and your parents. And he’s most likely looking for a way to hinder everything we’re trying to do if it means following God’s rules. But still, give him a chance. He’s really sweet.”

“I…” Coercia began. “…we don’t know that. Look, he’s a crying bitch, and he probably doesn’t want to change.”

Phalla put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

“The whole point of your hotel is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better and people can embrace their flaws, their true selves! How can you turn someone away? You can’t. It goes against everything you’re trying to do. Everything you believe in.”

Coercia looked downcast. Her friend had a good point. She hated when people made good arguments against her. But it also gave her a chance to consider her thoughts. Phalla kept her grounded and added some cheer to her overall fake afterlife. Coercia smiled at her.

“You take care of yourself,” she said to Phalla.

“Coercia,” warned Phalla, “Unless you are serious about responsibility, do not make a promise with him!”

Demons often made deals with each other that often resulted in gaining power at the cost of one’s soul or freedom. Usually the one who initiated the deal would gain advantage. A demonic deal was bad in and of itself. Breaking an angelic promise could result in rejection, eternal torture and damnation.

“Don’t worry,” said Coercia. “I learned one thing from my dad.” She mimicked his low voice, “Ya don’t break trust with other angels!”

Coercia marched over to the Techno Angel.

“Ok Mr. Rot... You’re prissy as fuck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a too-dangerous risk. But I don’t.”

Glowing blue symbols briefly appeared around a concerned Rotsala, then vanished.

Coercia continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be themselves. After all, it’s in their nature and the sooner they realize it, the better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition there be no lessons or lovey-dovey speeches made.”

Rotsala twirled his cane and held out his smallest finger from his right hand.

“So, it’s a promise, then?”

The room was surrounded by a pink aura as light spirits roamed around the walls. The wind blew against Phalla’s and Devil’s faces.

“Nope!” Coercia yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking, no promises! I…hmmm…”

She paused in thought.

“As Princess of Heaven and heir to the throne, I hereby order that you help out with this hotel for as long as you desire.”

A moment of pause…

“Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Rotsala said with a slump of his shoulders and walked on. His cane vanished.

Rotsala stopped and spotted Phalla to the side.

Phalla went up and tickled him under the chin, much to his shock.

“Smile, deer man!” she said.

Rotsala walked on, speechless.

“So…where is your hotel staff?” Rotsala asked Coercia.

“Uh well,” Coercia began. Rotsala peered at Phalla through his monocle below his left eye.

He stuttered. “You’re going to n-need more than that.”

Rotsala walked over to Devil Grit, who was sitting on a stool.

“And what can I do, my business fellow?” asked Rotsala walking over to the dark furred spider, blushing.

“You can suck a dick,” Devil retorted in a grumpy tone.

“AH! Ok,” said Rotsala, blushing and stepping back. “Can it be yours?”

“Fuck off,” Devil added, pulling out a long knife from his belt.

Rotsala summoned his cane. “Well this just won’t do. You want others to cause trouble, yes? I suppose I can cash in a few favors to deaden things up!”

He snapped his fingers and the wall beside the fireplace cracked. The circle went dark, the fire going out. Ice cold water appeared to fill in the circle and a shadowy figure solely formed inside. Rotsala walked over and removed the dripping figure from the water. A large single purple eye was revealed.

Devil Grit, Phalla and Coercia peered at the creature. With a balloon deflating sound and a puff of white smoke, the figure was revealed.

“This little rascal is Klutzy!” Rotsala announced with a worried smile, dropping the figure.

A black-skinned short cyclops female landed on her face on the floor. She stood up with a grumpy look on her face. She wore a dark green skirt with a white stray cat off to the left side. Her arms and legs were white and stick-shaped. Several blue dots stood out from the lighter green color of her skirt. Her shirt was black with cyan paint spots off to the right. Her large eye took up much of her pale white face; it was dark blue with a white pupil. Her short hair was teal with a dark blue spot off to the left.

“I’m Klutzy,” she grumbled, clenching her fists. “It’s a waste of time to meet you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen strangers.”

Her pupil narrowed from side to side.

“Why are you all men?” she asked. “Have any women here? Or video games? Screw this place.”

She briefly picked up Coercia, then let go.

“Oh man, this place is boring!” she exclaimed. She ran over to a vase and proceeded to knock it over with her elbow. It shattered to pieces on the floor. She tossed couch cushions aside.

“It really needs a more manly touch, disorganized clutter’s more fun.” She grinned as she poured dirt from a flower pot onto the rug.

“Yes, yes, yep, yeah!” she yelled as she proceeded to break windows and knock down more stuff. Then she plopped down on a couch once the room was messy. “I’m bored. Make me some food or something.”

Phalla, Devil, and Coercia looked on in worry, Rotsala just stared off into space. “She has quite the temper sometimes.”

A cat angel was working on a Rubik’s cube with colleagues. His furry face was black, framed by white fur. His little top hat was white with a blue band across it. A big teal bow tie was under his neck, over his black furry chest framed by white fur. His wings were a brilliant blue, with black and red mathematical symbols on either side: the pi symbol, E = mc squared, signs for addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, among others. More symbols were visible within his two pointed ears. His teeth were sharp and purple and his long eyebrows were teal. His eyes were purple and sclera white. The angel placed a Rubik’s cube in front of him. “Ha!” he declared in triumph. Read ‘em and weep, boys! Full…whoa…”

He felt himself being transported in a flash of light to the hotel. Part of the science room that the cat had been in was merged with the hotel lobby…posters of the elements, the solar system and Biblical works of art.

“What in Heaven’s name is going on?

Then he brightened when he saw Rotsala. “You!”

“Ah, Core, my old friend,” Stalaro sniffed, his head briefly looking like it was in between antlers from a stuffed deer head on the wall. “You made it.”

“Glad to see you, you son of the sun!” Core said. “I just completed my Rubik’s cube after just an hour.”

The cube vanished as Rotsala looked on.

Core raced over to Rotsala and embraced him in a side hug. The deer-like man blushed. “So, what can I help you with this time?”

Rotsala blinked nervously. “C-Can we snuggle?”

Core laughed. “I mean, seriously, why’d you bring me here?”

“My friend, I’m doing some dirty work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services. If that’s okay?”

“You must be joking,” Core said, laughing nervously.

“I don’t think so,” he replied.

“You thought it’d be a great idea just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I’m some kind of tragic boy?”

“Maybe,” Rotsala sighed, as crying sounds came from his microphone.

“I ain’t doing no dirty work.”

Rotsala appeared behind him. “Well I figured you would be the perfect face to greet and critique the guests at this fine establishment.”

He pointed his staff off toward a stand with vegetable drinks as claps and boos sounded from his staff.

“With your grumpy cat face and love of solitude…”

Core lifted up the corners of Rotsala mouth with his paws. “Aw come on, Al, Don’t forget to smile once in a while!”

His mouth frowned once he let go.

Rotsala walked over to the stand. “Don’t worry, my friend. I can make this more interesting…if you wish.”

He conjured up a bottle of catnip with his finger.

Core stared with wide happy eyes. “What, you think you can buy me with sad eyes and some cheap catnip? Well, you can!” He purred and took the bottle with him.

Coercia, Devil, and Phalla arrived.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Phalla squealed. “Brilliant idea to have healthy drinks!”

“No!” Coercia protested. “This is supposed to be a place that encourages sin! Not some kind of, frilly, Zen, child’s play…”

Core noticed Devil Grit and slid up to him. “Hey cutie,” he flirted.

“Go screw yourself,” muttered Devil Grit.

“Only if you watch me,” Core joked. “Or more likely, Rotsala will watch you.”

Coercia leaned in close to Core. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! You are going to go insane here!” She grinned, her teeth sharp.

“We’re all mad here,” Core replied, sniffing the catnip.

Rotsala walked in, an ever-present frown on his face. “S-so, what do you think?”

Rotsala ran over to him. “This is horrible!” she spat.

“It’s amazing!” Phalla beamed.

Phalla leaned in close between Coercia and Rotsala, embracing them in a hug.

“This is going to be very disengaging,” Rotsala exclaimed. Dubstep sounds emitted from his mouth as he stared around with worry. He stepped away from Phalla. “Coercia, I can’t lose you. We can’t lose you.”

Rotsala changed his light blue suit into a dark blue funeral outfit with a matching top hat. He did the same with Coercia, Devil Grit, Core, Klutzy, and Phalla, who were all wearing black clothing from the early 1900s. Coercia wore a short tan flapper dress and a round matching ladies’ hat. She and Klutzy stared at their outfits in disgust, while Devil Grit, Core and Phalla smiled as they stared at theirs. The room changed, the walls now covered with Voodoo symbols, Christian crosses and deer antlers.

“Take it boys,” Rotsala said. Light spirits appeared and played violins, a piano, and a flute in a sad symphony.

Rotsala sang his reprise to Coercia as they did a slow dance. Coercia looked annoyed but Rotsala smiled.

(“Stalaro’s lament Reprise”)

“You’re on a mission

Your innocence fell

And it’s so dangerous but hey, I wish you well

Yes your blunt protests

Will send you straight to Hell

And I can’t bear to see you banished, or your soul up to sell”

“Don’t bring your life to an end

No matter what you say, I’m still your friend

We all have our wounds to mend

And you’re vulnerable feelings are real, don’t pretend”

“Inside of every angel is love and emotion

They have values and lasting devotion (devotion to God)

While you recruit those around

Don’t be swallowed by the ground

The authorities can retrieve you tight and bound (no turning around)”

“Here above the sky

Spread your wings and fly

They’ll spend a little time

Down at this Haven Ho…”

An explosion rattled the windows. Klutzy saw a door flying toward her face and she broke it in half with a karate chop.

The room and everyone’s clothing returned to normal.

Everyone looked outside and saw a podium in the air, held up by flying metallic eggs. A familiar snake debater appeared.

“Look who it is harboring the striped annoying opponent! We meet again, Rotsala!”

“Do I know you?” Rotsala asked.

Tears came to Anguis’ eyes. “Oh yes, you do! Watch this presentation!”

The eggs danced in the air, singing a song about Sir Anguis trying his best to rule Heaven. He read from notecards. “You all can’t compete with me. Your hotel sucks. I…shall…destroy it…with… my…”

Rotsala giggled and blushed. “Your baby weiner havor?”

Anguis looked up from his cards in anger. “Not like that, pervert!”

Rotsala snapped his fingers. A portal appeared and white tentacles shot out, knocking the podium off balance. The metal eggs knocked into Sir Anguis and he yelled, “Ow that hurt! Show mercy!”

Rotsala used a drop of his blood and the podium exploded in green smoke.

Sir Anguis emerged from the crater, arm shaking, fangs shattered. Rotsala waved a hand and the snake was healed.

“Shoot me with your ray gun,” said a metal egg beside him. Sir Anguis face-planted on the ground.

Rotsala looked on, sadly while everyone else stared, stunned.

“Anyone hungry?” Rotsala asked turning around. “Please don’t make me cook jambalaya. It’s way too spicy and it nearly killed me! I much prefer tea and sugared strawberries, oh the way they melt in my mouth… but anyway, you could say the kick brought me straight into Heaven.”

Rotsala lead the way back to the hotel, the group following him.

“Yes sir, new changes are about to take place. Now…”

Rotsala waved his finger at the lit up sign above the glass, gem-encrusted building on the roof.

The sign changed from “Hazbin Hotel” to “Haven Hotel.”

“Stay tuned.” He finished with low whimpers.

#2PHazbinHotel #heavenhotel #havenhotel #2p

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seabluesong · 4 years

Text

Ikesen headcanon:

~ The warlords as cat shapeshifters ~

part 1

this was inspired by @ikesen-imagines-and-art 's "warlords as cats" posts;

I hope you’ll like it (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

(this is also the first time I’m posting something this big so pls bear with me)

Nobunaga:

he finds it useful

good luck killing someone who can turn into a cat at will and flee, assassins

but most importantly

"*sigh* was that lord nobunaga who just ran out of the kitchen with a bag of konpeitos in his mouth?"

no hideyoshi, just an ordinary black cat that just happens to have very cold carnelian eyes

you'd think he'd be less intimidating as a little furry fellow but he somehow manages to remain as domineering as ever

that is UNTIL you proceed to tickle him

so you have cat nobunaga sitting on your lap, enjoying the afternoon sun up in the tenshu, unaware of the little tickle attack you planned

once you begin, he'll struggle with all his might to get away, which will prove to be harder than he expected; he's completely at your mercy in this form

unable to escape, he will revert back to his human form, resulting in you having on your lap the very big human nobunaga with a positively pouty and blushy expression

which of course you'll find adorable, but he won't, so prepare yourself for retribution

Hideyoshi:

he doesn't particularly enjoy this ability of his since it's kinda difficult to scold– i mean take care of everyone and be taken seriously while looking like a big ball of fluff

but turning into a cat does have its good uses; like searching even the narrowest of places for lord nobunaga's hidden stash of konpeito

or following mitsuhide to make sure he isn't plotting anything against nobunaga-sama; only his attempts at spying always end poorly, partly because of mitsuhide's "psychic" abilities but mostly because earnest honest hideyoshi, even as cat, is not made for such a thing and his presence becomes obvious almost immediately

so, after making hideyoshi follow him for a good number of minutes, mitsuhide suddenly turns around and locks eyes with his furry pursuer: "Is lord nobunaga neglecting his cute little kitty? I can pet you in his place if you'd like"

which of course causes hideyoshi to explode

he will eventually give up on trying to spy on mitsuhide since he has more important things to do those konpeitos won't find themselves alone

after a long and tiring day, it will be heaven for him to fall asleep on your lap while you deliver gentle strokes on his small back so please do (you’ll probably have to insist a bit before he agrees because he’s very stubborn, even though he loves it)

Masamune:

he definitely enjoys it; i mean masamune in his human form is pretty feline-like to begin with

he loves the liberty and fluidity of movement; plus, turning into a cat is an unmatched way for him to get in touch with his wild side

he’ll take advantage of every moment you are lying on your stomach to jump on your ass; he'll stay there for a while

he also gets to nestle himself in your lap and have you pet him so what can be better? be ready 'cause he'll paw at your boobs in the weirdest of times to tease you you'll love it though

there is only one major problem; okay, maybe two

first, he can't cook in this form; and second, oh why, why does he have to be a feline of a smaller size than shogetsu?!

the tiger cub manages to overpower him almost every time they play together, so masamune doesn't even want to think about how it's going to be once the little tiger fully matures

Mitsuhide:

we know mitsuhide is extremely sneaky already, imagine how it'll be with him able to turn into a cat at will

he'll disappear and appear like magic much to hideyoshi's frustration (please save him, he can barely handle mitsuhide as it is)

it will also prove to be extremely useful on his espionage missions "Imma let you pet me if you tell me what I want to know *wink wink*"

his teasing will only get worse though; he'll probably sneak into your room whenever he wants to surprise you

like you'll be peacefully enjoying your night bath when suddenly you'll hear his frosty voice seemingly out of nowhere "Want me to help you wash your back, little mouse?"

OF COURSE THE LITTLE MOUSE THING WILL ONLY BECOME WORSE

he will leave you alone to your bath if you two aren't in a relationship yet or if you want your alone time because he does respect you and your privacy most of the time that is

want to cuddle and pet him? good luck because this one is hard to catch; he’ll teasingly say something like “And what do I get in return if I agree to fulfill this wish of yours?” in an attempt to discourage you but ONLY because he’s actually too embarrassed to let you do it yes mitsuhide we know you are a softie underneath all that teasing

Ieyasu:

he partly hates his ability because he is mercilessly teased whenever he’s in his cat form; “Oh look he became even SMALLER” “Oh look he’s even CUTER” “Will that prickly attitude of his go away if we pet him?” yes i am looking at you mitsuhide, masamune and nobunaga

“Oh, I would love to pet Ieyasu-sama” mitsunari nO. DON’T.

on the other hand, he does find it extremely useful to get away from unwanted social interactions and he uses it quite often because of it

he would LOVE to have you pet him but he would rather die than admit it; so you’ll need a lot of patience (or just take him by surprise and you’ll notice that although he complains the whole time, he makes no actual attempts to flee); with time, his grumbling will disappear and he’ll simply relax and enjoy your touch in silence

he also quite likes to hang out in this form with wasabi; you’ll see him sleeping atop the also asleep deer in his garden, basking in the sunlight

buT Of coURSe iT WASn’t HIm, yoU WERe juST SEeinG THinGs

Mitsunari:

this poor clumsy cinnamon roll would probably forget what form he’s in, making him even more of a walking disaster area

like he’ll return to his room after a war council and proceed to resume his reading only to realize he is unable to turn the book’s pages, and he’ll try more than once to do it with his little paws until he’ll finally realize what the problem is

he’ll also unconsciously nuzzle ieyasu-sama much to the latter’s exasperation “I swEAr MItsuNaRI I’M goNNA fuCKINg muRDEr yoU THIs tIME” although it doesn’t bother him that much

he does this with hideyoshi too, causing a very confused and embarassed expresion to appear on his face “Mitsunari, stop that” “Oh, I’m sorry Lord Hideyoshi”

one time, while he was reading with ieyasu in the archive, he actually fell asleep due to exhaustion and then turned into a cat in his sleep

“I can’t believe him” said a perplexed ieyasu, who then begrudgingly began to gently pet the sleeping mitsunari

“Oh, Ieyasu-sama, were you petting me? Or was it a dream?” “Of cOURse iT Was A DReaM I wouLD nEVer Do suCH A ThiNG” etc.

mitsunari will let you cuddle and pet him although he’ll be a little shy in the beginning; please do it while reading to him he will ADORE it

wheee this turned out to be WAY longer than I tought so I’ll do the rest some other time ✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen sengoku headcanons #ikesen headcanon #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #ikemen sengoku hideyoshi #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku ieyasu #ikemen sengoku mitsunari

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sukiandthemarauders · 4 years

Text

FIRELIGHT (Zuko x OC) P

word count: 1,164

warnings: no warnings :)

a/n: This is my first atla fic and I had to make it about Zuko bc I’m in love with him (I’m also falling for sokka). This is purely for my entertainment, but I’d love for anybody and everybody to read it and enjoy it as much as I do <3 The beginning will talk about the backstory, but most of it will take place after the comics!

Chapter 1 ->

Masterlist

___________

Prologue

________

Destiny is not a very difficult concept to understand. Your fate and the journey that leads to it is decided by the universe from the beginning— whatever it is that you were destined to do. The hard part to understand is the ‘why’ in the midst of destiny’s process. Why were you going through these hardships? What did you do to deserve this? When would you be rewarded? How would your life turn out?

Now that was the hard part.

And as Kailani resided in the gardens of the Southern Air Temple, throwing the disc of air she bended aimlessly around her as she lied on her back, she wondered what exactly she did to deserve what destiny had in store for her so far.

“You know, you’re my only friend here. All of the monks think I’m going to disgrace our culture, none of the air nomad boys talk to me because I’m the only girl in the temple, and I was never allowed to choose my own air bison.” Kailani said as she turned her head to face the companion she spoke to, only to stare into the brown eyes of Appa as he let out a loud groan. “Even if you can’t actually talk... and are borrowed.”

Appa let out another loud moan causing the girl to nod her head, and stop throwing her air disc around.

“I know! If I had my own air bison, you two could definitely be best friends!”

“Appa, there you are!” Kailani’s gaze snapped towards the new voice that sounded, and found the small figure of Aang—one of the air nomad boys—running towards the enormous bison, and launching himself onto the furry forehead. Aang smiled with his eyes closed as he relished in the softness that Appa offered. “I’m starting to think you’re the only person—sorry, I meant bison— that gets me. My friends don’t even want to air scooter with—oh! Hi Kailani.”

The young monk’s eyes had opened, and had caught sight of the older girl before him. He offered her a small, almost awkward smile and waved his hand, which she returned.

“Hi Aang.” Kailani spoke softly before tilting her head curiously. “Why don’t your friends want to play with you?”

Aang let out a deep sigh, and plopped down onto to ground, leaning his back against Appa. “Well, ever since I found out I was the avatar, they say that I’d be an unfair advantage to whichever team I’m on.”

Kailani frowned. “You may be the avatar, but you’ve only bended air... just like them.”

“I know!” Aang said while splaying his arms out dramatically. “But I guess I understand where they’re coming from. Now I really only have Appa and Monk Gyatso.”

Kailani shrugged before flicking her wrist to create the air disc she was previously throwing around. “Try having nobody, and only a bison that isn’t even mine to talk to. At least for you it’s because you’re powerful.”

“I think the reason nobody talks to you is because you’re intimidating. Not in a mean way, but your like three years older than me, the only girl in the temple, and well...” Aang trailed off as he scratched the back of his neck, and felt the blush creep up on his cheeks. “...you’re really pretty.”

And she was, although not that she flaunted it, for she wore her humble yellow and dark orange clothing. Kailani had the signature grey eyes of an airbender, but instead of the fair skin tone that everybody else in the temple had, hers was a light brown color—only a few shades lighter than her hair. Her eyes came from her mother, an Air Nomad nun of the Western Air temple, and the rest of her looks were inherited from her Water Tribe father. It was because of the fact that she was of two countries that she was lonely—almost discriminated.

The air nomads were incredibly peaceful and open minded, but it was Jesa—Avatar Kyoshi’s mother— that had ruined it all for her. Jesa was an Air Nomad nun who had fallen in love with an Earth Kingdom criminal, and unfortunately she decided to join him in his illegal activities, thus disgracing herself along with the Air Nomads. Because of the woman who had betrayed her culture over two centuries ago, the monks feared that Kailani would do the same, being the product of two nations, and they refused to give her the master tattoos, along with the opportunity to bond with an air bison of her own. Instead, she was sent to the Southern Air Temple which was only occupied with boys, to be away from her mother who remained in the west.

“Yea, but I’m still just a girl who wants friends.” Kailani mumbled. Aang slumped his shoulder and let his downcast eyes drop to the floor.

“I’m starting to understand that now.” Aang said quietly before looking back to Kailani with a hopeful expression. “How about Appa and I be your friends?”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Appa was already my friend.”

“Oh right.” The avatar said while scratching the top of his head. “Well, I can be your friend, too...?”

Kailani let her lips break out into grin. “How about you teach me that air scooter.”

Aang beamed, and immediately jumped to his feet with a childish excitement shining in his eyes. “Great! First, you form a ball, and then you have to...”

It was only the beginning of their friendship—two outcasts that had banded together—but Kailani quickly learned to see Aang as her little brother who she would protect: her only family. The two were best friends, which was why Aang had begged Kailani to join him and Appa as they escaped the Southern Air Temple, not wanting to be sent to the East and away from Gyatso. And as a terrible storm hit them while they flew over the sea, the two airbenders and the bison found themselves tumbling into the dark water, and only seeing a glimpse of a brilliant blue light before being encased in ice for one hundred years.

Of course, they didn’t feel the slow burn of time.

The next thing they knew was that two Water Tribe kids had found them, and the world was thrown into a raging war instigated by the Fire Nation for the past century while Aang, Kailani, and Appa were trapped. The two Water Tribe kids, revealing themselves as Katara and Sokka (the latter who was the same age as Kailani) joined the airbenders on their journey to help Aang master all four elements, and were later joined by an earthbender named Toph, a Kyoshi warrior named Suki, and the Fire Nation Crown Prince Zuko. Together they defeated Fire Lord Ozai— although those were only the first of their adventures—and together, led by Avatar Aang, were on the path to bring peace and balance to the world.

But little did she know that this was only the beginning of Kailani’s destiny.

Chapter 1 ->

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forallyourikemensengokuneeds · 4 years

Text

Secret santa present

Title: Carving a Tradition

Fandom: IkeSen

Suitor: Masamune

To: @selenecrawford

From: @darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts

A/N: Happy Holidays my dear. I how you have a time as rewarding and joyful as this tale.

The hall was perfect. It had taken a lot of work and the enlistment of almost half of the castle staff to pull it off but the main audience hall of Oshu Castle was finally looking a lot like a modern-day Christmas.

It was hard to locate the items she had in mind but thankfully she was going out with a guy who’s name not only opened doors but the ability to acquire and procure the things she wanted. Small paper lanterns had taken the place of fairy lights. Intricately cut paper became fine decorations attached to folded paper garlands in festive shades and was hung around the room, draped over the original ornamentation of the building.

The Lord of the castle was cloistered away in the kitchens working on variations of the dishes she had described to him as a traditional feast. This was something he had most looked forward too during their discussions on the holiday so it was no surprise when he announced Oshu would have its own winter festival and he was preparing a feast for everyone.

There was one item that she had had her heart set on. The focal point of the celebration as far as she was concerned. A tree. It had been a request that she entrusted to her friend Sasuke. Being from the future as well, she felt if anyone could find a tree closest to the one she desired, it would be him. A 10-foot-high spruce that apparently had a complicated scientific name making it sound like it had more of an education than she did was the result. Swathes of thin fabric clung to the branches along with paper cranes and tiny fans. Yes, today was going to be the day that she could reveal her creation to her boyfriend. Just one last finishing touch…

“Hey Kitten you got a minute I need you to try this dish for me!”

Balanced on a chair attempting to attach a star to the top of the tree the Princess stopped in her actions after hearing Masa drawing closer in the hallway.

“Masa? I told you, you couldn’t come in till I said so!” She called out as she adjusted herself to get down.

“I know that and I’m not coming in I was just going to open the door a little and get you to try this food.” After saying this the large sliding door began to move. She rushed towards them imagining that they would somehow open completely if she didn’t, but before she could take more than a few steps disaster struck. 20 lbs of furry chaos flew past her as it rocketed through the small gap in the doors making its way towards the biggest and most fun looking thing in the room.

“NO!”

A loud creaking announced the inevitable ground-shaking crash as the 10-foot tree was knocked flat to the ground as if it had been hit by a truck. The paper ornaments scattered to the four corners, which only served to entertain the Tiger cub more as he then took it as a fun idea to begin chasing them as if they were falling leaves in the garden.

The Princess’s cry had Masa cursing under his breath as he broke his word and pushed the doors open as wide as he could with one hand the other resting on the hilt of his sword as if he was waiting for an attacker to present themselves. His eye roamed the room not really taking in any of the decorations until it settled on the impudent kit mauling at something that looked very much like the things Mc had been making in her room. Balls of string, paper origami shapes…

“Shogetsu you bad cat get back here now!” He chastised the cub but it was all too late. The branches of the once decorated tree were crushed and broken on one side. The decorations were all in different variations of broken, unravelled and chewed. It was a disaster.

Mc moved in slow motion as she made her way to the fallen symbol. Her hand trembled a little as she picked up one of the fabric ornaments she had made especially. It had two small figures on it and one large cat. The text “Our first Christmas” was embroidered on it. She didn’t know if she wanted to laugh, scream or cry.

“Hey… Mc? Mc? I have been calling you for the last few minutes and you haven’t said a thing.” Masa placed his hand on her shoulder attempting to get her to look at him and when she did, he thought his heart was going to stop. Her eyes were glazed over, unfocused with unshed tears. The emotions flickering like a candle in the darkness were moving rapidly unable to settle on any one single reaction. “Kitten?”

“I’m sorry Masa. I just wanted to show you what a real Christmas looked like and I failed.” Her voice was small and weak. It hadn’t been her fault and yet she was taking all the blame. It was so like her. Her kind heart was one of the things he loved about her. Loved and hated. She could have stood to be a little more selfish at times. He would have given her everything. He still would give her everything. Wrapping her in his arms he watched as the tiger left the room oblivious to the aftermath of turmoil it had created.

“Come on Mc it’s not the end of the world. We can get another tree.”

“No, we can’t.” Her voice was muffled in his chest but he could still hear the stifled pain in it.

“Why not?” He pulled back a little so he could see her. He didn’t really understand why this was so important but it clearly was otherwise she wouldn’t be so upset. And if it was important to her then it was important to him too.

“Masa it’s Christmas Eve. There is no way we can get a new tree here from the same place we found this one in one night. It’s impossible. I mean it took 3 days to get this one here.” She sounded defeated and not at all like the girl he knew. Her shoulders were rounded as she slumped with her mood.

“Hey now.” He took his hand and tilted her chin to look at him. “Are you forgetting who your boyfriend is? You want a tree I’ll get you a tree. There is no such thing as impossible.”

“But—”

“No but’s. You just wait, Kitten. I’ll fix this.”

It was around noon in the castle by the time the real buzz started to hit a fever pitch. Everyone had been invited by Masa to attend the party and so naturally all members of staff were dressed up in their finery. They still insisted on helping with serving for rest of the guests but there was no doubt that the idea of dressing up had put them all in a festive mood.

The one person who had been the most excited now looked to be the most miserable. Mc had sat in her room attempting to make new decorations for a tree that no longer existed and glancing over at her fabric bauble. The tragic look on her face didn’t change or shift no matter how much time had passed. This was bad. An unhappy Princess meant an unhappy Masa and that was no one’s idea of fun.

It was about the eighth time she had tried to fold some paper when she finally gave up and stopped forcing herself to try to march on. Masa had been kind and sweet as always in his support of her but this was something different and she was not sure how he would manage to keep his word this time.

*Knock, knock*

“Kitten? It’s me.”

“I’m not very good company right now Masa. I have to prepare for the party as well.” She tried to brush off his visit to gain some time to prepare herself. She needed time to correct her mood before she saw anyone.

“Don’t worry bout any of that all you need to do is turn up. But I really need you right now Mc. I have to get you to check things for me so I can tell if I did a good job or not?” He sounded like a pleading child. But he also said he needed her. It was those words that had her moving automatically to greet him. Suppressing a groan, she got up from the floor and tottered to the door. Masa was standing on the other side as lively as ever.

“What am I checking?”

“Come with me I’ll show you.”

They walked in silence to the scene of the crime. Mc’s heart lurched at the memory. She knew it sounded silly to be so emotional over a tree for one day of the year but there was so little here that felt like her modern-day roots that she had become a little emotional.

“Ok now. I don’t really know what it was supposed to look like but I think I did it.” He said as he paused by the doors.

“What did you do?”

“The impossible.” There was a twinkle in his eye that she loved.

“Masa….”

“Hey don’t look at me like Yoshi does I didn’t do anything bad. Just open the door if you don’t believe me.” Masa grumbled whilst encouraging her to slide the door.

Inside was the same room now tidy and free from tiger attack signs. The decorations that hadn’t been broken were all being used to decorate the tables and raised seating. But that wasn’t what caught her eye. In the centre of the room where there had once been a majestic spruce there now stood a tree carved into shape made out of ice.

Her eyes followed the surface of it the limbs were all separate levels but also had incredible looking carved decorations on its surface. It sparkled in the lamp lights making it look as though it was covered in glittering stars.

“Masa… y-you did this?”

“Of course.” He said proudly puffing out his chest a little whilst still nervously checking her reactions. “Do you like it, Kitten?”

She turned to him and immediately dragged him into a tight embrace.

“Like it? Masa I love it! I had no idea you could carve like that.” Mc pointed at the ice sculpture. Her face was beaming a pure and natural smile. He felt like he could breathe again for the first time.

“Sure, it was just like carving that root vegetable for Halloween.” He shrugged trying to play it cool and hoping she would ignore the heat growing on his cheeks as he had a sudden thought about just how adorable she was.

“Why did you?”

“For you Kitten. I know you wanted to make this the best Christmas ever for me but I also wanted to be able to do something for you too. I realise Shogetsu playing with the tree was unplanned but I’m still a little happy he did that because now I can say I helped too.” He admitted his own small shameful truth a little happy to have it off his chest.

“Masa… you always help me. I was just trying to do the bits I could do because you were doing so much in the kitchen.”

“Well now, aren’t we a pair?”

“Sure are.”

“Do you like the tree Kitten?”

“Yes. I think everyone should have one.”

“Ha-ha that’s great but I don’t think I have enough ice to make that dream come true for you this year.” His laughter reverberated in the room, filling it with the first round of joy it would see for the night.

“It is missing something though.” Taking the ornament from her sleeve she placed it next to the ice tree. “There. Now it’s perfect.”

“Agreed.” Masa kissed her brow looking at the fabric ornament feeling his chest grow a little warmer. She was always cute but there were times she was so cute he genuinely thought he was going to overdose on her sweetness. “Merry Christmas Mc.”

“Merry Christmas Masa.”

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikémen sengoku #ikésen #secret santa #2019

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lostsneeze · 4 years

Text

Allergic messy demigods drabble. This idea wouldn’t let me go until I wrote it.

The spider-crone nodded. “I see, I see. So in essence, you want me to help you cheat Lord Gale Dragon’s trial so that you can marry each other?”

Cat’s Pawed Hunter spluttered as he sipped his tea, the cup nearly slipping out of his furry-gloved grip. Pearl In Cove, who was more accustomed to dealing with these decorum-dodging aged minor deities, was startled only enough to just ripple her scaly, iridescent robes. “You don’t have to state it so bluntly, but yes, that is our request.”

“Hmm. It’s a befitting trial: demanding proof of your bond by tasking you with finding each other in his Garden of Mists, without attempting to call out to each other at all.” Half of the old woman’s eyes narrowed in thought as she rubbed her chin, while the others continued to study the couple. “But it’s also a simple one, those always have more room for interpretation than their creators imagine. Let me see...Say now, does he still take good care of that enormous garden of his?”

Pearl suppressed a huff of disdain, thinking the old woman had gotten sidetracked into trivial conversation. She nodded so faintly that her long high black ponytail didn’t so much as shudder. “Yes, although you can hardly see past arm’s length in it, my father insists that the many pillars and lattices still hold blooms throughout the year, and that each hold a different variety of flower. I imagine he would say he intends for an effect of being ‘lost in a world of beauty.’”

Spinner Of Crafts smiled and nodded. “Indeed…That should do nicely I think. Please excuse me while I see to some preparations. I do believe I can help you.”

As the crone stood painfully slowly to take her leave, Cat leaned forward and half rose himself in excitement, a motion that threatened to undo the careful combing of his wavy curls that Pearl had done for him earlier. “You have a plan, then?”

Spinner nodded. “Best you don’t know exactly the details, in case he thinks to question you at all and you find yourself having to lie. If you’ll put your trust in me, you’ll be saying your wedding vows in no time, don’t your worry.”

And so Pearl and Cat amused themselves for about an hour in the old woman’s parlor, and then unquestioningly drank a strange potion, recited an odd incantation, and rubbed an eerie stone all offered by the crone, before taking their leave.

Cat was the first of the pair to understand the intended plan, once they were both released into opposite ends of the labyrinthine garden. The moment his yellow eyes started to water and his small, slightly upturned nose began twitching, he grinned and took a great breath of air through his nose.

“—hhhH’tchshh! Hh-heehhtshhh!” Immediately it was filled with a fearsome itch that burrowed deep into his sinuses. Though expecting it, he was still doubled over and in fact almost stumbled to the ground at the ferocity of the sneezes that overtook him, and didn’t regain balance until nearly twenty had passed.

Elsewhere, Pearl was less prepared for her slender, flowing form to be suddenly rocked by a boisterous, “Hadjishuu!” Sniffling she reflexively brought a hand to her long nostrils to suppress further sneezes, realizing only afterwards that this was in fact the solution to the puzzle. As the noblewoman stepped forward into the garden, the world behind her quickly vanishing behind the same gray mist which so thoroughly blanketed her on all sides she could not even see her own feet, she dropped her hand to the side an began sniffing the air that was saturated in the pollen from countless hidden flowers. When she sneezed again she immediately brought her hands to cover her mouth out of reflex, only remembering to bring them back down after the third one. “Hatchshh! Hadjshh! Hah-HAATJSHUU!”

Although she was too far to hear the young hunter’s repeated and harsh sneezing, the celestial spirit of hunting was sharp-eared enough to get her exact direction. He began making a straight line towards his beloved, occasionally bumping into a mist-enshrouded pillar as a result of his haste and his attempts at tilting his head upwards when he sneezed to better broadcast the sound. This inevitably resulted in a shower of pollen wafting down on him from the exotic flowers clinging on the vines wrapped around these pillars, and a dozen or more wet and catlike sneezes would all race to escape his nose at once, forcing a momentary pause while he regained his footing and relocated the sound of his betrothed’s sneezing.

For her part, Pearl had begun taking great gulps of air as she traversed the garden and trying to hold her sneezes back for a brief period before releasing them, in an effort to make them louder. “Hha-hhdshUH! H’ehh…Hehtjshuuh! Haah…hah…Hatjshuu!”

It was not long before her sneezes were answered, faintly to her ears from so far across the massive garden, but audible enough to provide some direction in the misty bank.

“H’etsh Hhtsh Tchh Hh’tshh!”

“Hhhi! Hiitshuu!”

“Etsh-Hhhtch!”

“Hihh-hHH-Hdjshuu!”

Eventually, they emerged from the mist into each other’s line of sight. Pearl now tried to hold back her sneezes for the sake of being able to see her husband-to-be, pure joy somehow able to express itself through her puffy, watery eyes. Cat squinted to return her gaze through a stream of allergic tears and eyelids fluttering against another flurry of sneezes, unselfconscious about the rivers of snot dripping from his flaring nostrils that were joining together at the bottom of his round face. Pearl was in no better condition, her earlier attempts at wiping the unending flood from her nose mostly only resulted in smearing it around her flushed smooth cheeks. With only the slightest pause to collect themselves the soon-to-be-wed lovers fell into each other’s arms and shared a passionate (and mucusy) kiss.

#sneeze kink #snz drabble

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bee-kathony · 5 years

Photo

Four Years | Year Three - “March 30th, 2016″

a/n: thank you so much for reading!

Year One | Year Two

January 9th, 2016 | January 24th, 2016 | March 3rd, 2016

March 30th, 2016

Jamie’s POV

Claire’s wee garden would have to wait a few more weeks, but I had bought all the seeds she could ever need and had strategically placed them near the teapot so she would see them. Claire never went a day without having a cup of tea. It had been one of the few things she had let me help her with — bringing her tea whenever she wanted it. She was still distant, but I knew the talk with Jenny had helped and I could see traces of the light peeking through the wall she’d built.

It was still cold outside and it would be for some time. I wanted to get Claire out of our house. Out of our house with the nursery that I had been slowly taking apart. Everyday I walked past it and boxed something up. I should just do it all in one go, but it hurt too much — once all of Jane’s belongings were put away, then she was really gone.

Jenny and Ian invited us to come and spend some time at Lallybroch. I could work from there and Claire still wasn’t full time back at the hospital so it seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, we had left Annie with my sister while Fergus got used to everything — I always thought that dogs knew when it’s owners were in pain. Adso had stayed with us however, running away from Fergus’s small hands trying catch his tail.

“Chien?”

Fergus hadn’t stopped talking about the dog since the moment I mentioned we would go and see one. His eyes lit up and he kept sticking his tongue out in imitation of one.

“Aye, wee lad. We’re goin’ to see our chien,” I smiled and picked him up, settling him on my waist. “We just need to get yer Mam and her things.”

I walked down the hallway to our room where Claire had been packing a bag earlier and found her staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were fixed on her stomach and I carefully set Fergus down on the bed and walked up behind her.

“Sassenach?” I touched her shoulder lightly. “Are ye almost ready to go? I told Jenny we’d be there in an hour.”

Blinking, she met my eye in the mirror and smiled softly. “Yes, I’m ready.” Her hand fell from her stomach and she turned to grab her overnight bag.

“I’ll get that, a nighean,” I took the bag from her hand and kissed her cheek. She tensed, but only slightly and then I felt her give in as she closed her eyes.

“Thank you, Jamie.”

It was more than just a ‘thank you’ for picking up her bag. It was a ‘thank you for being patient with me’. However long it took for Claire to come back to me, I would wait. I would be there whenever she needed me. Claire has already suffered more than one should; I only wished that she would share her burden with me.

“Ye can head out to the car, I’ll bring Fergus,” I kissed her cheek again and she left the room.

“Come on, lad. Let’s go see the chien.”

++++++

A light snow covered the ground as we arrived at Lallybroch and when I set Fergus on the ground, he took two fumbling steps and plopped down on his bum. It was almost April, but Scottish weather was unpredictable. Claire snickered and bent down to pick him up. It was the first time I had seen her willingly interact with him. I knew she loved him, but it also pained her — I could see it in her eyes.

“Wet,” Fergus said, his tiny hands pressing against Claire’s cheeks and she shivered.

“Very wet,” She said and then started walking inside. I followed close behind with the bags, setting them down in the entrance.

“Janet! Ian! We’re here!”

Ruff!

Annie came running around the corner at the sound of my voice. First jumping up to my knees, barking and shaking her tail and after a satisfactory head scratch, she ran to Claire, licking at her ankles.

“Stop it, Annie, that tickles,” Claire smiled. We really didn’t deserve dogs.

“Thank heavens yer here,” Jenny appeared from kitchen with Ian following her, carrying their youngest Katherine. “Ye are goin’ to take that damn dog home wi’ ye this time?”

I looked over at Claire who had set Fergus down and was now placing his hand on top of Annie’s furry head.

“Aye, we can do that. Fergus has settled in nicely so far,” I grinned.

“Sweet Mary and Joseph,” Jenny made the sign of the cross and I laughed. “Having five bairns in the house, two dogs of our own, a cat and then adding yer dog in the mix has been a wee bit rough.”

“Annie is well behaved surely,” Claire said from the ground.

“She’s fine, but tis my kids that arena,” She smirked. “Wee beasties when they all get together.”

“Not Katherine,” Ian said, bouncing her in his arms. “Not yet anyways.”

“So I take it ye will be havin’ anymore bairns?” Smirking, I picked up our bags and started walking towards the stairs.

“Och, God no. I’ve already made Ian promise to get a vasectomy for my birthday present.”

I winced, looking over at Ian who’s lips were pressed tight. “Aye, I did.”

Laughing, I walked up to my old room, setting down the bags and nearly jumped out of my skin a moment later when I felt someone’s hand on my back.

“Jesus! Sassenach,” I turned towards her. “Ye scairt me half to death.”

“Sorry,” she said through a shy smile.

“Are ye alright? Do ye feel okay?” I slid my arms around her waist, looking for any signs that she was anything but fine.

Nodding, she stepped closer and laid her head against my chest. “I’m tired of being sad.”

“Mo ghraidh,” I laid my hand on the back of her head. “I ken. It’s just been two months. Ye’ve every right to feel sad.”

“But I don’t want to,” she mumbled against my chest.

“Is there somethin’ we can do to take yer mind off of it?” Placing my hand under her chin, I turned it so she would look up at me. “Play a board game? We havena done that since before yer chemo. Do ye remember that day?”

“I do,” she grinned then, a genuine smile. “That was one of the best days.”

“Then let’s get changed into some comfy clothes,” I kissed her. “And then we’ll go downstairs and play a game with our family.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said and then moved to pull out sweats from her bag.

“Annie was happy to see ye.”

“I missed her,” she said. “Fergus seems to love her. I left him downstairs and they were both getting along just fine.”

“Dogs are verra good wi’ bairns,” I smiled, pulling off my jeans one leg at a time. I found my grey sweats from my bag and slid them on, sighing at the comfort. “When I was a lad, my dog Nairn used to let me ride him around the place.”

“Like a horse?”

“Aye, Sassenach. Like a horse. My Mam would yell at me to get off, sayin’ that if I wanted to ride a real horse, then I should go to the stables, but Nairn was just the right size,” I laughed.

“Nairn is Bran’s grandfather,” I said as I came to sit beside Claire on the bed. “Bran might let Fergus ride on him.”

“You think?” Claire smiled.

“There’s only one way to find out…” I smirked.

++++++

Bran didn’t let Fergus ride him after all. I tried to put him on his back, but he just kept barking and trying to bite at his ankles, so on the second try, I pulled Fergus off quick. I couldn’t wait for the day that Fergus was bigger and I could teach him to ride a proper horse.

After we all ate dinner and put Fergus to bed, Jenny, Ian, Claire and I played a game of monopoly that went on for nearly four hours. Claire had always been competitive, but I could tell she was still holding back a bit. There was only so much I could do to help her, I just wanted to hold her in my arms and never let her go, but I kent she needed space.

After Jenny won the game, and we packed it back up, Claire went straight to bed, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

I leaned over her, brushing a curl off her cheek and kissed it.

“Lord, protect my wife. Heal her heart and take away the pain that she has for our lost bairn. Dinna let her weep, but fill her with joy once again. Protect her from the things I cannot.”

#four years #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #year three #sorry its short #jamie fraser #claire fraser

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secretlynestaarcheron · 5 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice

Chapter One:

“A Letter!” Elain calls, somewhere below Nesta who was curled up in an armchair in the long forgotten library. She hears her sister succury up the stairs, bursting through the large wooden doors, her cheeks flushed and her hair sliding from her bun. “I was out in the garden, tending to the vegetables and flowers when a carry came up with a letter!” She falls to her knees in front of her sister, holding the letter so Nesta could read the front. “Its addressed to you.”

Nesta brow furries, as she reaches for the letter discarding the book on the table beside her. She glances at the handwriting, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Tomas, a businessman who had taken fancy of her, was usually the only one who she received letters from despite her constanting putting him off. “Why wasn’t it addressed to father?” she hums, ripping open the seal. She didn’t recognize it, it must be from a well known family from the city.

“What does it say?” Elain asks, as Nesta scanned the letter. She rests her arms in Nesta’s lap, looking up at her sister with her big brown doe eyes. “Potentially a new suitor? One that will take you away from here who will let you fill every room with all the books you’ve collected on your travels?”

Nesta laughs at the fantasy her sister portrayed, she was still so innocent. Nesta was glad, she tried her best not to let her sisters see the horrors of their mothers death and what their father would do to get back to the top like sacrificing his eldest daughters happiness and hand in marriage to a well know scoundrel of a man. “I doubt that, Elain,” she replies, she’d rather grow old and become a spinster than give herself up to a man. “It’s from a Lord Rhysand, he has invited us to a ball he’s holding at his new manor here at the end of the fortnight.”

“A ball? Really, I’ve always longed to go to a ball!” Elain says, her smile contanious. Nesta thinks back to the last ball her family was invited too. Nesta was barely out so Elain and Feyre never were allowed to go. “Oh Nes, I can just imagine.” She clasps her hands in hers and continues, “We must head to town! We can buy new fabric and ribbon! Oh it’ll be splendid! I must tell Feyre!”

Once their Father gambled all their money away, and ruined their reputation they’re invitations dwindled down and down. Although she knew it was foolish she couldn’t help to think about the dress she would wear and the expensive sweets that were sure to be there. “I suppose it wouldn’t be horrible to attend. It would be nice to have one more taste of freedom before the potential wedding.”

“We must grab Feyre and head to town before the shops close, I have the perfect idea for dresses! Blue for Feyre with silver detailing. A soft lavender or pink for me-,”

“All the shops are going close by the time you finish planning out dresses, go tell Feyre the news and I’ll call the carriage,” Nesta smiles at her sister, following her out into the foyer while Elain moves to go upstairs.

The carriage ride to town felt swift due to constant chatter between the sisters. Even Feyre who could always be found in the woods was excited at the possibility of attending the ball. As soon as the carriage stops, the two youngest girls jump out and run towards the fabric store.

She smiled after them, but another store caught her attention. She opens the wooden door, the smell of fresh parchment filling the air. It was her favorite place in town. “Ah, Miss Archeron, back again?” The owners calls out to her from behind the counter. He gives her a cheery smile as she continues, “I don’t think I’ve gotten anything new since the last time you came in.”

She returns his smile, “I am sure I can find something in here I haven’t read before,” she replies, moving her skirts to fit through the narrow aisle of books. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, maybe history or geography, or possibly something adventurous. She finds herself in the corner of the bookstore, a small candle glowing from the wall letting her see the titles. She reaches forward adding another to her stack before crouch down to search through her pile for the one she wanted.

“Quite the stack you have there, miss,” a voice says from above her. She glances up, her smile dropping at the sight of the person above her.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, standing up quickly and straightening out her skirts. “I thought we saw the last of you years ago.”

Cassian laughs, and she flinches at the sound. A sound that used to make her want to laugh too. “I thought you’d be happier to see me,” he adds and when she doesn’t reply he continues, “If you must know a friend of mine just recently acquired property here.”

“Lord Rhysand?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

His face lights up with confusion, “How do you know him? It’s actually a funny story, I met him in the war, he didn’t even know he was a lord until he received this letter in the mail-”

“I am afraid I have to leave,” Nesta says, trying to push pass him, He grabs her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She turns towards him her breathing hitches when she comes face to face with his chest in the narrow aisle. She glances up, swallowing the lump in her throat, as she shakes his grip off of her. “Cassian, I should leave.”

“And why is that? We’ve only just started to catch up,” he says, but she’s already finished pushing past him and is rushing down the aisle and out of the bookstore. Her face burns and tears threaten to fall, she promised herself she wouldn’t cry over him anymore and she wouldn’t. He wouldn’t be the cause of anymore pain from her.

“Nesta?” Feyre calls out, waving towards her from across the road. Nesta takes a deep breath, closing her eyes, before walking across the street to meet up with her sisters once more. She wasn’t able to pay attention to her sisters chatter, she knew she wouldn’t be able to attend the ball now.

#Nessian #Nesta Archeron #SJM #SJMAAS #acotar #acowar #acomaf #cassian #feyre archeron #elain archeron

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qhostqizmo · 4 years

Text

Temptation

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- - - - - - - - - -

She couldn’t fight it. It stirred in her dreams like a plume of smoke; dark clouds hazing over everything and blotting out the interior of the residence she had been in. One second there had been cool stone and carpeting beneath her feet, with pillars to uphold the structure and doors that she knew lead to a garden, and the next she had been thrust in no-where. There was vertigo; no up or down, no east or west, no sense of direction and nothing below or above. Only gloom, and herself.

It had only been herself. As she tossed and turned; twisted and grasped at the nothing trying to get a grip on something, a figure began to materialize through the endless shadows. They were no taller then she, and their build slender. A hood obstructed their face, but they wore a brightly colored red lip stain against their grey freckled skin. A light haloed around them, but it was neither blinding nor particularly bright.

“What is it you desire?”

It was an echo; and although they moved their mouth, the words felt like they were vibrating all around Essätha; through her, inside of her. She clenched her teeth in hopes of stopping the rattle in her teeth, and clutched at her temples.

Her mind was instantly a playground; brutalized and vandalized. This had been nothing like Master Sadris Vodamire; who although caused much discomfort with his prying eyes, tore into her head like a rampant monster. It was like filthy hands groping; touching where they did not belong, taking without asking.

It searched, and as the violating sensation made Essie whimper and claw at her scalp, she observed glimpses of things and places, money and faces, people and animals.

“I could offer you a promise” the voice promised, velvety and sweet as any seductive mistress. “I can give you what you want most. In exchange, all I ask of you is to relinquish one small thing. That which is mine already, that you and your friends have in your possession.”

She didn’t have anything that didn’t belong to anyone else! Okay… that was not entirely true, but none of it belonged to anyone else for a while now.

Softly, the speaker compelled, “You must leave it beneath the roots of a Devil’s Roosewood tree. There I will find it.”

A beaded necklace appeared unwillingly to the forefront of her thoughts. Its pearl-like spheres were made of a pinkish-purple tinted wood. An amulet hung from it, presumably meant to be displayed upon the throat so far as jewelry went. It was made of an ambery-red metal no one recognized in the party; and was embezzled with gemstones. Adela recognized a few of them as decorative precious jewels, but others even alluded them.

What did the abandoned pendent they found lying in a creekbed have to do with any of this?

“That is none of your concern.”

Essätha struggled to open her eyes at the testiness of the voice to stare the individual down, but she no longer could. She could not will them to open, and the rampant path of strange and random photographic memories she didn’t even remember continued to invade her like a hurricane.

“Do you hunger for money? Mountains of it; as far as the eye could see?” the voice teased, offering visions of plentiful piles of coin and jewels, stacks of monetary notes and wages.

“Perhaps a lust for freedom?” A strange parallel; worlds and planes stacked on top of each other, easy to access at the touch of a finger.

“Or strength?” Tools and weapons; rings and tomes. “Glory?” Dozens upon dozens of people, crying out her name in the crowd, their faces written in expressions of awe and adoration. “A paradise to call your own?” A castle, expansive and fortified; surrounded by wildlife and trees, with the lapping sound water somewhere past the treeline.

“No?” chimed the voice; not waiting for an answer, but sounding… disappointed. “Immortality? To be human? No, not that, either. My, you are a tricky one. So complacent in your mundane life. You want things, but what are you hiding; what do you want more… what does your heart long for the most…”

Essie did not know if it was her own impulses, or the endless pursuit of answers that brought up the lonely figure, with their face turned only slightly towards her and the massive furry beast at their heels.

“Oho. What an interesting surprise. I thought different of you. Not many crave love as badly as they think they do; people tend to lean more selfishly to power and fortune then they believe themselves capable. But you crave that acceptance; that warm embrace, that spark that fills the empty, lonely voids inside your soul. You believe one man can make you that happy?”

The question was taunting; mocking her more then inquiring. It didn’t need an answer. No amount of true and honest love could ever fix all your mistakes, or unbreak you, or change you completely into someone new, or even lick all your wounds and make you perfect or change the world.

But it could change your world. Soften your negative outlooks; have a genuine conversation with someone, have someone reliable to lean on that could lean on you, too. It was intimate trust; going the extra mile, selflessly offering all that you had expecting nothing in return. Being vulnerable to another and knowing they would do everything in their power not to hurt you; that they would try to catch you when you fell, and pick you up when it can’t be helped. A bond of acceptance, of respect, of teamwork.

Loving Amon was worth more then all the bounties and rewards they could be offered. It was freedom; as open as the sky was vast. It was the strength she found inside every day. It was the fame of those moments when he stopped and stared at her, and so quietly said her name that she felt like the only person in the room. It was his arms around her; feeling of home and protective shield from every wounded word she’d ever heard. It rendered the idea of immortality obsolete. She felt eternal under the blanket of his heavy-lidded eyes.

Like a leech to blood, the figure offered a Cheshire grin Essie could not see. She had found her jackpot; her vulnerable weak spot to strike.

“Yours is not the easiest, but not the most difficult wish to achieve,” the lady hummed. “I can give you his heart. He can be yours, until your dying day.”

A fantasy played out beneath her eyelids, but it was one she’d had before. The table, their interwoven fingers, the sound of his faint chuckling and the soft impression of his mouth against her, wherever his lips could reach. Her throat, her cheeks, her lips so light and warm. She was almost dizzy, imagining it; the breathlessness from such a lingering kiss.

But then he pulled away, and the vision was not totally how she recalled it. The almost mechanical shape of his smile, like it did not belong there; painted on crudely, rather. The vacancy of his eyes.

Her hand went to her throat. She grasped at something hanging there, finding a heart-shaped locket hanging around her neck. Clicking it open, she could make out the strangely pulsating, beating shape within it as she squinted…

She did not want that. Her thoughts cringed, warding the nightmare away.

That was not her Lord Amon, and that was not the kind of love she desired.

“Is this not what you want?” the voice implied with a snappy tone, “is this man not the one you yearn for?”

Not like this. Never like this. He was not her m’lord; he was her puppet.

“Think of it,” the voice pressed, almost endearing. Shaming her almost, it cut the fantasy in two; blurring it out to reveal the dreaded future she feared. The solitary, winding roads. The isolated bedroom. The restless nights, tossing and turning. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to be. Nothing to do. No one to put faith in; to put faith in her, to push her forward. Alone, again.

She sucked in a shaky gasp, choking. It felt like first breath she’d taken in minutes, and she was choking.

The lipstick curled up into a twisted smile as Essätha found herself able to open her eyes, the dream melting and fading all around her…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Spine stiff and rigid, Sulhadur leaned forward, running his tongue over his muzzle. “… What did she offer you guys?”

Everyone avoided each other’s gazes. Penimra shifted uncomfortably, breaking the silence with a ragged cough, “Everything.”

“I did not know I even wanted some of the things they offered,” Pri’cha agreed, their expression mystified and mandibles parted.

“I had never seen the Drow before,” Adela whispered, leaning in to the table. “I think she was a Drow, anyway? Did any of you get a good look at her?”

“No, her hood was always up,” Rava stated.

Abe nodded. “Same for me.”

Essie kept her head down, and her mouth shut. Silence was safer.

“Well we can’t give her back the necklace; obviously it has some sort of value, and to a demigod of that sort of power…” Abe trailed off weakly.

Conflicted, Penimra offered out his trembling gloved hand. “Can’t we, though? We don’t know what it can do. It’s not our responsibility. Maybe she will reward all of us, if we put it back-”

“Penimra, that sort of trust is what got you cursed in the first place,” Adela commented tartly. She immediately seemed to realize her commentary, and slapped a hand over her open mouth as the warlock recoiled as though from a physical blow.

“Pen, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t.”

“I mean, she did make some good offers,” the cheeky wood-elf piped up, staring fixated at the necklace sitting in the middle of the round table. Her hand twitched, as though to reach for it.

The eldest paladin give her a firm but swift tap on the hand, glowering at her until she sat back, pouting.

“This isn’t up for debate!”

“You’re right, Pri’cha found it. They should get to decide what we do with it,” Pen eagerly stated, looking hopefully to the golden cleric.

“M-Me?”

“… We can’ trust them,” Sulhadur muttered, scratching his claws against his snout.

“This coming from the dragonborn who wanders randomly off into the woods, trusting the melody of some random desert music,” Penimra muttered with annoyance.

With vigor, the nobleman slammed down his fist. The action silence the entire table; turning towards the man with his clenched teeth bared like an animal.

“Stop arguing, all of you!” Amon grated out.

The exchange of glances across the table made the Briarton Protector deflate. Fear lit his eyes, and it took everything Essie had not to reach out and touch him, or take hold of his hand. As quickly as the rage had filled him, it seemed to disperse, but it left it’s lingering effects. The guilt in his shoulders; heavy. The stares that haunted him, past and present.

“… Before we make any rash decisions,” he continued on hoarsely, “like handing off this- this necklace that may have some potent abilities we’re not aware of, we need to know who this is, what this does, and why they want it so badly. Deities, or powerful beings, do not usually reach out to request things from mortals or their lessers. If it’s a test, I do not see why they would have a reason to act so…”

“Shifty?”

“A kinder way of putting it… yes,” he agreed, nodding solemnly to Abernathy’s words.

Nervously licking her lips, Ravamora eyed the amulet. “What do we do with it, for now?” she squeaked. “Who can be trusted to hold on to it?”

A few looks around the table, and most pairs of eyes settled on the Thri-Kreen, their curled antenna shooting up.

“M-Me?”

“You did find the pendent, Pri,” Essie whispered faintly.

“And you’re the one least likely to be swayed… Probably,” Sul pointed out.

Steadily looking around the group, the cleric clutched their claws together into little fists. They raised them up high and proud, announcing with vigor, “I will not let you all down!”

The Yuan-Ti sorceress glanced vaguely towards the amulet. For half-a-second, her clouded thoughts believed to see the disturbing locked, with the beating shrunken heart trapped inside it.

Swallowing, she looked down at the table.

Whatever the cost, it wasn’t worth it. Losing his very personality; the essence of who he was just for her to call him hers, it wasn’t worth the price. There was no value to be placed on who he was; as a man, and a friend, and a trusted companion.

If this is all there ever was, until they parted ways, so be it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rolling her denim pants up to fit within her bag, Essie could hear the heavy pacing of Amon’s boots, and the elevated sound of his breathing. She tried not to point it out, but Caesar seemed to be doing a fine enough job of that as it was. The mastiff trotted after him; claws clicking against the wood floors, and whined every chance he got up towards his master.

Tucking in a carefully folded shirt, she finally spoke up quietly, “Is everything alright, m’lord Amon?”

He grunted. She turned to glance at him, catching him wiping a hand over his face. His eyes were wild, and black hair mused from his fingers running through it previously.

“Fine.”

A frown pulled at her lips. She knew him better then that.

“Is… this about what occurred at the table?” she offered, cautious.

The nobleman turned to look at her, dazed. There was little focus in his eyes.

Scooting around on the bed, she placed her hands in her lap, remaining cross-legged. Essie offered a private smile, tilting her head to the side as she whispered patiently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

His throat jumped, and he looked away. “I… uh…”

Gently, she patted the bed. He obediently obeyed the implication, taking a seat on the opposite side stiffly. It reminded her so much of the images from last night, that she had to hold herself back from flinching away from him.

“It’s okay you got frustrated,” she soothed softly, reaching out to lay her hand atop his. “No one’s going to hold that against you. We’re all a bit… wound up. It’s a hard decision to make, when someone offers you your deepest desires right in front of you on a platter.”

His gaze was too intense, staring right into her. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and her palms start to grow sweaty. The ocean reeling her in; pulling her into the depths.

Again, he swallowed; his jaw working and shifting uneasily. Caesar, meanwhile, nosed his knee and whined; to which he didn’t respond to.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” he finally uttered quietly. She beamed with encouragement, wrapping her fingers around his hand. “I forgive you. You’re allowed to feel your emotions, m’lord. I know you had no intentions on hurting anyone’s feelings. You’re understandably frustrated. I think nothing less of you. Maybe… we all needed a voice of reason to cut through the haze in that moment, anyway.”

Amon smiled thin, and with doubt.

Essätha did not move for some time. When he did not reply, she nervously began to remove her hand from him.

He instinctively reached for her; a flash of pain in his expression.

“I- I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be,” he breathed. Relief bloomed in his eyes, still locked on hers, as he held her fingers in his now. Almost regrettably, he regarded their hands, and gently placed hers back down upon the bed.

“I’m sorry I should… I should not make you feel like you have to comfort me.”

Her brow knit, and she reached for his hand. “Have to?” she echoed, “I don’t feel like I have to. I don’t have to do anything; but I like to. I like to hold your hand, and I like to make you smile.”

Together, their faces simultaneously took on a rosy glow. Amon looked away nervously just as she did. The eye contact was suddenly too much.

The inquiry nagging at the back of her head, however, continued to pester her…

“M’lord,” she murmured, clutching his digits anxiously. “I…” She swallowed, acutely aware that his gaze was back on her again; burning her. Her face felt hotter. The room felt deathly quiet, and she found it difficult to breathe. The only sound her ears picked up on aside from her heartbeat, was that of Caesar’s tail thumping eagerly against the floor, staring at them both.

“Are you alright, Essie?”

Gods, she hated how she adored the way he said her name. The way he spoke to her; concerned and tender and patient, made her insides feel like they were twisted into pretzels.

Sighing, she shook her head weakly. “No I…” She nibbled her lower lip; exhaled deeply, and tried again: “I thought I knew what I wanted most of all in my life, once. Like Penimra said; she offered me everything; the world at my fingertips, to bend and morph however I pleased, to be whoever or whatever I pleased… She said I could have had anything; given me my deepest desires…”

Her eyes drifted, slowly making their way to where their hands were on the comforter; clutching each other.

“… But all I really wanted was this moment.”

“… This moment?” Amon parroted softly. When she did not reply, he squeezed her fingers gently. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry I-” flustered, she caught a glimpse of his face; vulnerable, soft, longing, and glanced away timidly, waving her free hand in the air. “I just- I mean- I only wanted your time,” she stressed, “I- I just wanted- want to s-spend my time with you to- to have your company-”

Fidgeting, she pulled at her hand, but Amon held her strong, but gentle. He waited for her eyes to find their way back to his.

“… You don’t think I want the same thing?” he whispered, grinning shyly. “I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Essätha returned the smile, her pulse escalating. All she craved for, all she wanted to do right now was to throw herself into his arms. The block between her mouth and her heart was her brain, carelessly telling her that telling him the truth would be too much.

She promised me you, she wanted to scream. The enchantress witchy deity being offered me your heart, and your love. I know you’ll think I’m insane, but gods, I want to love you and be loved by you more then anything else in the world.

But not like that. Not that perverse, demented and warped reality.

The genuine warmth of his eyes, and the smile he wore now, that was her wanting.

“I wish she’d been right, about one thing.”

The hurt expression returned. “Right about what?”

If it could only be possible to capture his heart, in the right way. Slowly, with time, and with a lot of love. If only she could just be a little be braver, to tell him openly, how she felt.

“Oh just- about having more manageable desires,” Essie fretted with a short laugh. “Something attainable, within my reach.”

Between a mixture of confusion and amusement, the nobleman rasped playfully, “I thought you just said that all you really wanted was this moment.”

“It is! I do!” she burst out enthusiastically, holding his hand tightly, as though reluctant he’d pull away.

The same, brilliant smile; warm and enlightening. He leaned in closer unconsciously, closer towards her. The scent of pine trees and leather surrounded her, with a faded note of rosewater. Her eyes, unconsciously, darted all over him; to his chest, his mouth, back up to his all-consuming gaze.

She was the center of the universe once more, beneath his softly aglow night-sky regard.

“Me too,” Amon whispered, as though telling a secret.

She grinned brighter, feeling the butterfly-sensation swarming in her stomach.

Gradually, his gaze lowered; moving over her features, stalling. His eyes lingered a moment on her parted lips before jumping back to her eyes. They’d moved in closer, unintentionally, drawn in by gravity.

His voice trembled as he inclined closer still, murmuring, “You are far more beautiful here, right in front of me, then in any mirage hallucination she showed.”

Breath hitching, her lashes fluttered, waiting for the magnetic pull to drag him the rest of the way. She leaned in a little further as he did, her free hand reaching for him.

A knock at the door sent them hurtling backwards away from each other, mere inches away from contact.

Her heart was still thunder in her ears, muffling Sulhadur’s voice as he called out, “Everyone’s packed and outside; do the two of you need a hand still?”

“No- ahem, no, we’ll be out shortly!”

“I’ll carry some of your things for you.”

Cheeks burning, she glanced at Amon after hearing the break in his voice. He was looking to his faithful pooch, who huffed and laid their head upon his knee.

Had… had he just admitted to seeing her, in some of those fantasy-visions from the strange dream intruder?

Letting go of her hand, the nobleman silently pushed himself to his feet, heading towards the door with the mastiff trotting at his heels.

Essie pressed her fingers over her flush features, and her mouth. It was almost-had-been-too-close but was it really what she’d thought it had been? The moment charged with electricity, the softness of his eyes. Surely they hadn’t been that close. Maybe he’d been distracted by something, or had meant to… brush hair out of her face?

Removing her hand, she tried not to pout; or directly allow the Dragonborn paladin to see just how deeply blushing she still was as he entered.

There was absolutely, positively no way on earth his deepest desire could possibly be of her, too.

Right?

#qhost story #Essatha Meduza #Amon Illiad #OTP: Essamon #softly written #ft: Noisy Bastards

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blankdblank · 5 years

Text

Blacksmith’s Daughter Pt 5

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 -

Tags – Requested by lilith15000

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78

X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf

Mild smut - fingering, oral

With Legolas’ blessing you now had one more person to share the news with. Straight to your apartment you went, stopping to rinse your face before leaving your room to pass through the hall towards the partially opened door on Thranduil’s study. Behind his desk you found the King, furrowing his brows in his crossing out items on a parchment then marking his changes above each change. After a knock he blindly beckoned his disturber in holding his focus on the page.

Where Legolas had glanced up you simply asked aloud, “Is now a bad time?”

His eyes darted up and he set down his pen and flashed you a weak smile that dimmed when he caught the worry on your eyes. At once he was up and striding over to you with upward palm extended guiding you towards a loveseat nearby, “Not at all. What is troubling you, Aerasumé?”

Settling your skirt around your legs you wet your lips and turned to face him when he settled again a bit closer to you and paused his hesitant motion to claim the hand resting on your lap just yet. “I overheard something today.”

“Oh?” He asked with a curious tick of his brow as his leg inched a bit closer to yours.

“Well two somethings, actually, though first, the garden I picked, it was the former Queen’s.”

Oddly enough at your reluctant explanation and his earlier assumption of what land you had chosen a grin eased onto his mouth, “I had assumed as much. There are few of our gardens requiring sows to clear the tall grass, and only that one out of my paths between meetings.”

“So, you knew?”

He nodded and claimed your hand to cradle it between his through a loving gaze at you, “I have never been one to handle my irritations well, for those who have betrayed me my pettiness and spitefulness rise. In her passing, I neglected and avoided her chosen havens at all costs, even the darkening of that corner of the palace. We found a spiders nest not far from that garden last year by chance, sending me to return guards at least over that portion of the grounds to ensure more did not take up nesting there. But, it seems in your claiming it our people have continued their old shortcuts and wanderings through that area.” His head tilted slightly as his grin inched out more, “If you were expecting my disapproval you will not find it. I stand by my statement, any Elf hindering your claiming what you wish will be dealt with by me.”

At that a tear streamed down your cheek from your prickling now downcast eyes moving his hand from your lap to cup your cheek and wipe the offending tear away with near panic in his eyes at what had stirred them from you, “What is troubling you my Queen?”

His sweet purr and concerned gaze locked on yours when you looked up again through his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly, “I heard something else, two of your Council members.”

He nodded, “Ah, copper robes with silver trims?” You nodded and he asked, “What poison are they spouting now to trouble you so?”

Hesitantly your eyes scanned over his face then you repeated their words exactly making his jaw clench for a moment then relax as you asked, “You have heard it before?”

A tilt of his head later he answered through his fingers brushing your loose curls behind your ear that his finger trailed along the tip of, “In Doriath my parents were merchants, from families of merchants, what I was raised to follow into.” Your eyes took in his deepening gaze as he brushed his fingers along your cheek, “My Father was chosen to be King as he knew the most of ruling due to his time in King Dior’s halls. There are few Silvans who still hold to our old stations, most following Haln and Harin in their plotting. They came close with my late wife, though she saw reason, or part of it at least, then fled foolishly unarmed and was slain, thankfully she left my son behind with a trusted Elleth.”

“I suppose it is not such a farfetched match between us then, Smith and a merchant.” Making him chuckle lowly, “If they are going to continue this, I suppose we should throw a wrench in their plans plot against them in return.” You replied playfully making him chuckle again and nip at his lip.

A knock at the door caused his hand to drop from your ear as his head turned to the interrupting knock granting you a moment to lean in and sneak a peck on his cheek after he called out, “Enter.” Weakly he chuckled and grinned as you settled back again resting your hands on his knee as Tauriel entered and paused peering between you two hoping she had not interrupted yet another private moment.

Tauriel paused then passed her message to the King stating, “All the arrangements are in order. Talm and myself have arranged the crates in Queen Aerasumé’s gardens.”

Thranduil nodded and you waited to hear from the King what the crates were for as he asked lowly, “Something else Tauriel?”

After she shifted her weight on her feet she stated, “My King, I wished to inform you of something. Haln and Harin’s latest plot.”

Thranduil nodded and stated smoothly, “Something to do with referring to me as a Cayuse, and my Queen of having some buck in her. Correct?” She nodded curiously, “Yes, Aerasumé has just been informing me herself.” Her lips parted hating that you had heard any of it, “As for our response, I will inform you that we are forming a plot of our own.” A grin formed on her face and she bowed her head then turned to leave hurrying to the door hoping to allow you both back to your private moment.

When the door shut your head turned and tilted downwards you eyed the message in his lap he unsealed and lingered on the word you softly repeated, “Chipmunks?” Raising your eyes to meet his you caught his mischievous smirk, “Lord Celeborn sent you chipmunks?”

Through a deep chuckle he answered, “Yes, though do not tell the Council. They fought against my attempt at a gift for you.”

In a giggle you asked, “You smuggled in chipmunks, for me?”

He nodded, “They are quite useful in aiding in gardens, the spreading and dropping of seeds here and there. Though squirrels are more useful, they are far less cooperative with transferring to new homes.”

You giggled again, “So, you simply intended to set them loose and, shrug when the Council notices,” you tilted your head to read the message then back up again, “the 500 chipmunks forming nests in the kingdom.”

“That was the plan.”

You giggled again, “The fearsome Elf King reduced to smuggling in chipmunks into his own kingdom.” Making him laugh then fold his arms around you when you hugged his side, “Thank you. When are they being freed?”

His head turned to the clock on the wall and then back to you with a grin, “Five minutes.”

Again he chuckled as your hand fixed on his and you hopped up urging him up in return to a rarely used balcony overlooking your gardens, just in time to see Talm and another guard slipping inside your gardens, feigning a patrol through to shift a hidden lever opening a set of small doors in their passing. Nipping your lip in the shadows of the balcony you peered over the railing on your toes only to have Thranduil’s arms loop around your middle raising you up for a better view with a grin of his own watching the first of the curious chipmunks peek out. One at a time they began to creep out and inspect their new surroundings for shelter in the trees between upward glances at your bright groupings of flowers in the tended to planters.

Within minutes the furry intruders were off in search of supplies to build nests while the crates were claimed and moved away as you giggled to yourselves. In a turn of your head your hand planted on one of his and you kissed his cheek again drawing his eyes to yours, only to have them shut when your lips tapped his. Tighter his eyes shut when your forehead pressed to his with a soft smile of your own as his grew only to break at your giggle at the distant angered cry of a council member at the sighting of a chipmunk outside his window. With a laugh of his own he set you down and said, “Best flee for an alibi.”

Your hand folded in his and you guided him through a set of back halls until you both slid into a side door of the library, where you found Bilbo curiously peering up at you from his chosen book in the center of a tall stack set aside by him. Gently you nudged the King into an arm chair and claimed two books at random then popped in the chair beside him, both feigning reading as Bilbo peered at you both curiously then to the main entrance where a Council member arrived absolutely furious. A storming path later he stopped in front of the King shouting, “We have pests in our gardens!”

Thranduil aloofly asked, “Pests?”

Council member, “Striped four legged pests rummaging through the foliage!”

Bilbo raised a brow, “Chipmunks?”

Council member’s brows furrowed facing the King, “They must be dealt with!”

Raising a brow you asked, “Are you seriously waging war on chipmunks?”

His brows lightened and he answered, “They will ruin our grounds and steal our food!”

You responded, “Only if you anger them. I’ve known countless chipmunks in Lindon that gladly help in our gardens there.”

Bilbo nodded in agreement, “They aid in insect populations too, how empty are your evenings you find time to despise chipmunks?”

The Council member gawked at Bilbo open mouthed then to the King who raised his brows expecting an answer to the question only to watch as the Elf turned and stormed back to his apartment. When the doors sealed behind him you and Thranduil let out your pent up laughter making Bilbo ask, “Chipmunks?”

You nodded, “King Thranduil got me chipmunks to aid in the gardens,” you giggled again, “Against the Council’s arguments.”

Bilbo grinned through a chuckle of his own, “I see.”

Turning your head you asked Thranduil, “They won’t harm them will they?”

He shook his head to say, “No, Talm and Tauriel have been instructed to share among the other guards any to harm your chipmunks are to be severely punished.”

Bilbo nodded, “Good.”

A growl from your stomach moved the King’s hand to yours saying, “Now, Bilbo, if you will excuse us, my Queen is hungry.”

Bilbo chuckled watching your blush as he led you back to your apartment where he made you both a second supper and sat through the whole thing sipping on his wine as you did yours, with his eyes still locked on you, still chuckling about the distant elated and irritated cries from the Elves through the Kingdom. The table was cleared and as you moved to ready for your night together you felt his eyes lingering on you until the door closed between you.

In his room he shook his hands readying to fumble the buttons free on his outer robe he left in his closet along with his boots and crown. Anxiously he combed his fingers through his hair on his path to his bed where he settled his pillows and laid back only to grin seeing you in a pair of sleeping pants reaching your knees under a loose shirt while working your hair into a loose braid on your path to climb on and walk across the bed with a soft smile of your own. At his side he drew back the covers for you and helped cover you again when you eased under them and laid back.

Softly he asked you, “How did you wish to sleep?”

“On my side again, I suppose.”

He nodded shifting as you did away from him easing his arm under your neck settling closer to you. He paused in your halting turn back to him making his brows rise, only to drop at your inching closer to him. A hint of a smile ghosted on his lips that soon met yours when he closed the distance accepting your good night kiss ending with a brushing of his nose against yours hoping for another from you in return. In your pull back you turned again settling onto your side as he draped around you still smiling as your hands folded around his looping one under the covers around your side with the other over the covers in front of you while his head nuzzled behind yours. “Rest well” came from behind you to which you replied, “Perhaps I might join you in your morning meeting if you would like.”

Lowly he chuckled and replied, “There is always a seat open in any meeting for you.”

Settling closer to his chest you closer your eyes shut focusing on the Khuzdul humming through the gem inside your pendant around your neck freeing you to mentally link yourself to Thorin, inside his sitting room as he played his harp. A smile eased onto his face and he shared about his day while you shared yours, lulling the pair of you into deep sleeps fading from the imagined sitting room leaving you both in your beds.

Reluctantly you both eased out of bed in the morning at Legolas’ entrance announcing he’d made breakfast with an unusually large grin signaling you to split and get dressed for the day. In a yellow velvet gown you had been gifted you added the full butterfly and flower coated crown you rested around your loose curls brushed over your back, overall gaining a large smile from the King and Prince upon your joining them at the table. Your arms shifted at your sides, “I thought the crown might be fitting if they are aiming to pit us against one another.”

Thranduil’s grin deepened as he eased your chair out for you, “A simply marvelous idea, my Queen.”

Leaning back in your elaborate chair your eyes narrowed on the oblivious Council member Haln as he rebutted against the latest offered suggestion towards the fruit production for the upcoming season. All you could think of was how absurd this Elf was as he clearly pushed for his own crop to be spared from being claimed at all, and by the looks of things it was for his own profit clearly somehow. Beside you Thranduil let out a deep sigh as he heard, “But of course, as a former merchant you would understand.” His eyes turned to you making him flinch at your fierce gaze after asking, “I am curious how our meetings stand up against Dwarf meetings?”

Holding your gaze you answered plainly, “For one you would not have a place in it.”

“Oh?” he asked with a raised brow, “And why would that be?”

“Those with no respect for the King are forbidden from holding seats on the Council for obvious reasons.”

His brother asked, “Obvious reasons?”

“For those who place themselves and their desires and personal interests above those of the kingdom’s. Had you been on my father’s counsel you would be wielding broken bones and ego from a staggering loss of personal standing and property for your public comments against the King. The last Dwarf I personally threw from the hall can attest to the effects if you wish to confirm for yourself.” The brother’s lips parted in shock while Thranduil smirked stealing a glance at the chipmunk still asleep in your palms after hitching a ride on the hem of your gown hiding from the Council members trying to chase him away.

Again you drew in a breath marveling in the first moment of silence in the five hour meeting pushing you past lunch forcing your stomach near to a growl, in a turn of your head you locked eyes with Thranduil after saying, “However those are merely Dwarf meetings, and I am merely a Smith’s daughter after all. What would I know?” You paused again, “In fact those meetings did not last half as long. No wonder you keep missing our lunches.” A hint of a smile flickered in the King’s eyes noting the Council’s reaction to your hinting that they had hindered your bonding. You rose up folding the sleeping chipmunk in your palms, before you added, “In fact, if you will excuse me, I need to eat.” You turned to peer at Thranduil asking, “Would you like me to send you up something?”

He shook his head with a soft smile, “No thank you, I am quite accustomed to it.”

After a soft sigh you glanced over the offending Council members and shook your head mumbling, “Nonsense” in your path to the doors the guards opened for you and closed behind you nearly making Legolas in his own chair chuckle out loud at the ripple of stunned expressions on their faces.

Steadily a stew was boiling on the stove while you fashioned a set of grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches half of which you were going to send in to the meeting just to drive home the message. A startled gasp came from you at the arms circling you from behind, in a low chuckle Thranduil’s lips left your cheek as he stated, “My apologies, I did not intend on startling you.”

In a glance up at him over your shoulder you asked, “What happened to the meeting?”

He chuckled again stating, “You, my dearest, were marvelous, drilled them straight into line, Halm and Harin have agreed to all your terms fully after angering you so. Never have all of them come to a single decision so quickly. I was also apologized to for being taken from your company for lunches, which now, we will have to share at least for a time.”

With a grin you circled your arms around his neck, “I do not think I have seen you this happy since our reception.”

He grinned easing his arms around your back leaning down purring, “Our wedding will be a difficult moment for any occasion without you to ever reach,” his grip tightened and he raised you in his arms making you giggle at your being his height now easing his theft of a kiss, “I am happy. I am home with my wife, at lunch no less.”

Making you giggle again and ease your hands around his jaw line and upwards to cup his cheeks deepening his loving gaze through his nose stroking along yours, “Then husband you will have to settle for a stew and sandwiches for your victory meal.”

Just as you leaned in he purred again, “My favorite.” Against his lips you giggled then shifted your hands in his head tilting to lean into the kiss. One became two and timidly your next two awkward attempts to match his motions one of his hands rose to brush the tip of his thumb along your lower lip parting them. Freeing him to move in on your pause to kiss your lower lip and press his lips to yours a bit firmer through cupping your cheek to guide the reacting movements to his silent tutorial.

The inching back of your head in his next attempt at a peck his eyes met yours wondering if he’d pushed to far only to catch your head tilting to peer at the stew making him chuckle as you said, “I have to stir it or the potatoes will sink and burn.”

He chuckled again then melted into your stolen kiss with a pleased hum and set you down and remained wrapped around you from behind as you stirred. Then helped you on pouring out the juice when Legolas arrived and you served out the stew for the three of you while the Prince divided up the sandwiches still giggling to himself about the end of the meeting.

The evening seemed to drag on and as you toiled in your garden your husband found himself drowning in records in his own research to add to his hopeful new proposed changes to some age old laws and customs regarding their production and trades. There, after your scrubbing, in the doorway of Thranduil’s study you spotted him, partially hunched over the stack of notes covering his desk the dip of his head and partially drooped eyes brought a smirk to your eyes. Walking into the room you moved to the desk and eased the pen loosely hanging in his curled fingers away from his nearing forehead to set on the desk raising his head to peer up at you with a sleepy grin. Gently your hand eased around his upper arm under his wrap saying, “To bed with you.”

Lowly he chuckled and eased his chair back and stood beside you, “As you wish.”

You rolled your eyes and guided him into his room where you eased his wrap off of him and moved to carry it into the closet while he removed his boots, socks and crown and followed you inside where he removed his shirt as well. In your path over to the bed his lips parted wondering if he should grab his shirt again only to freeze when you brushed back the covers and turned to ask, “Do you mind if I stay?”

Quickly he replied, “Of course not. Why would you assume I would mind?”

You shrugged, “Might get tired of me.”

In a few steps he had moved to you cupping your cheeks tenderly saying in a soothing purr, “I will never,” his head moved in to where his nose was barely touching yours, “Not ever, grow tired of you. I am your husband and I will love you and wish to be near you always, please never doubt that.” A gentle caress of his thumbs on your cheek later his lips melted against yours in your rise up onto your toes closing the distance between you. An easing of your hand around his neck drew him to lean in more with a pleased hum urging him to grip you around your back lifting you with one arm and raise your legs with the other. Holding the enamored lip lock he curled his leg on the mattress in the space you had uncovered and rested you on his lap then folded his arms around you again.

Steadily it deepened to more and more heated an encounter until you were straddling his lap after having had to adjust your silken nightgown granting him access to a few strips of your smooth legs to stroke between his cupping your cheeks and easing his hands over your back. Eventually his smirk at your instinctual shift in your hips responding to what he was stirring from you broke the kiss allowing him to move his lips to your jaw and along your neck freeing him to hear your soft gasps and barely audible moans and sighs. Unmistakably his own arousal was clear as the muscle you found yourself shifting against stirring just as enamored sounds from him in return. By your third subtle movement his hips had shifted in return while his arms melded around you sliding as you rocked feeling him fold his hand around your hip easing under your backside aiding a firmer rock from you sensing you needed a bit more.

A gentle kiss to the tip of your ear came before a low purr from him, “Feel better?” Unable to help it you gave a louder moan and his deep chuckle after against your neck held off any chance of you tensing. Slowly your hands moved along his back and around his shoulders, a shift of your shoulders allowed the straps to slip free in your next few shifts when your lips had met the tip of his ear making him nip at his lower lip holding back his grin. Smoothing his hand around your upper thigh with his thumb stroking closer to your core as you tried to press a bit firmer. In another purr he asked, “Would you enjoy some more assistance?”

A nod against his forehead earned a pleased chuckle from him while he shifted your nightgown with lips trailing along your collarbone tenderly until your soft gasp at his fingers easing right where you wanted them to be. A curve of his finger later another soft moan sounded from his slow and steady pace soon growing to match what sensed you wanted from him through his lips joining his free hand to adoringly see to each inch of your exposed breasts. But it wasn’t until your fingers locked in his hair in a deepening kiss you had been tipped over the edge, his attentions shifted from teasing you to the edge to directly to folding around you with a pleased chuckle through your continued lip lock. Not long after again your returned shifting brought a sudden roll from him that earned an anxious giggle from you until he settled above you teasingly peppering your neck and chest with a tender trail from his lips and tongue between his hands cupping your curves in his path lower.

Your knee was propped up and kissed in the start of a steady trail to where he had bunched up your nightgown easing his thumb’s path to stroking you again after you had helped him wiggle you out of your panties he dropped onto the floor carelessly to see to you again. “Lay back, close your eyes.” You raised a brow, “You are tensing.” His lips met your thigh again and his grin through his purr of, “Please?” With a sigh you laid back closing your eyes as his trail began again until he finally reached his goal. A few minutes in you stole a peak down at him only to giggle at his pleased grin up at you earning another chuckle from him as you laid your head back covering your face when he started again. Another tip over the edge later you wiggled out of the nightgown tangling around your waist and accepted the crashing kiss from Thranduil only making him chuckle even more when you rolled him over.

Your timid order of “close your eyes,” made him chuckle again through your stolen kiss that muffled his low deep moan when your hand dipped under his waistband to timidly stroke him. A few moments later your lips trailed down his chest from his neck making him bite his lip until he helped you brush down his pants you tossed away trying to remain calm eyeing him and the pulsing member tapping against his stomach. On all fours you settled between his legs resting around you and you stroked your fingers along his shaft in the gentle pressings of your lips across his hips, trying to remember all the tips Dis and Diaa had given you. A flick of your tongue here and there between the strokes stirred matching shifts from his hips below you through his panting moans that only grew louder when your lips first sank around him only egged you on.

Unknown to you in your focus he had stone a glance as well and had to clamp his eyes shut and lay his head back biting his lip not to finish at just that alone. A single teasing flick of your tongue when you sank again drew an almost guttural mumble of, “oh no,” the unmistakable pulsing of him made you lift up tucking your tongue into the back of your mouth, at Dis’ prior suggestion. You kept stroking him until he chuckled reaching down tapping your hand to stop after your final lick to capture the final beads had been too much for him so soon after finishing.

“Oh no?”

He chuckled again inching up to fold his arms around your back guiding you up onto his chest as his lips melted onto yours through his pleased hum that made you giggle, when your lips parted he purred against them, “You seemed to be enjoying yourself and I stole a peek and ruined it far too early.”

Giggling again you brushed your nose along his relaxing against his chest, “It is mainly meant for your pleasure.”

He grinned through a weak chuckle, “Yes, however, if you did not enjoy it I certainly would not enjoy it so.” You nipped at your lip and he added, “I have heard boastings from Dwarves before about it.”

Raising a brow you asked, “You haven’t-?”

He shook his head claiming your hand to kiss your curled knuckles lovingly, “My, previous union was, business.” His lips met your knuckles again with a deepening loving gaze, “With you I get to touch you, kiss you, caress you and tend to you completely.” Making you giggle and roll your eyes as he kissed your palm and eased it across his cheek, “I get to be your husband, all I could have hoped for.” You giggled again and stroked your fingers across his chest and shoulders until you glanced up at him with a faint blush at your absent stroking. “Touch me all you like, Dearest.”

A challenging grin eased onto your lips and you sat up on your knees making him bite his lip as your hands smoothed over his middle up towards his shoulders and onto his arms up to his hands that folded around yours when he drew them closer to kiss your palms again. “Would you like me to roll over?” The blush on your cheeks made him draw his hands back and roll over and settle on his stomach easing his hands along your legs straddling him while yours smoothed over his back in a firm massage earning pleased hums and sighs from him. “You are next Dearest.” Making you giggle.

But when you had finished he rolled over flipping you onto your stomach in turn for his own soothing massage ending with his rolling you over sitting beside you grinning as he asked, “What ever did I do to earn the affections of a woman so dazzling as you.”

You blushed again glancing away widening his grin then looked back, “You are one to talk, certainly nothing to shake a stick at.”

He chuckled lowly, “I am tolerable at best.”

You raised a brow, “Tol-, point out the jealous Elf who dared say that.” Earning a stunned laugh from him, “It may just be my Dwarvish side, but tall, broad, sturdy-.”

“Ah, I see it now.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not to mention those eyes of yours, and apparently a smile only I have managed to charm out somehow.” Making him blush in return, “And now a blush.” He grinned at you again and you tapped your bent leg against his side, “Dazzling.”

To hide his blush he stretched out beside you and grinned helping you to lay across his chest and side again. Stealing another lingering kiss, softly as you stroked a finger along his ear, you whispered, “I am definitely falling for you.”

His grin doubled and he kissed the tip of your nose, “I have absolutely fallen in love with you.” Firmly his lips pressed to yours and he reached down pulling the covers up over you both and melted around you as you both drifted off after another few lingering kisses and a trading of good nights.”

Pt 6

#Thranduil x OC #Hobbit #lotr

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