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storyofmychoices · 8 months

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The Quest for Daenarya

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 1 + Beyond] [Mal’s Orphanage]

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 2 AU]

Pairings: Mal Volari x Daenarya (F!MC)

Other Characters: Tyril Starfury, Nia Ellarious, Thalassa (OC orphan), Lysander (OC orphan), Ovisa (OC orphan)

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow II, Chapter 3

Word Count: ~2,600

Rating/Warnings: Teen to be safe; blades (daggers, swords), angst with a happy ending

A/N: I had wanted to publish this before chapter 3, but life got in the way. I still hope you enjoy my version of Mal x Daenarya's reunion.

Synopsis: After hearing her stories, Thalassa, Ovisa, and Lysander decide it is their quest to bring Daenarya back to Mal, they just never imagined it would be so easy.

This follows Shadows of Hope (Mal's grief) and Her Legacy (where the children were introduced).

Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. Her steps, once confident and purposeful, now felt hesitant and uncertain. It had been a year since she last saw him, not for her—or at least it had not felt like it to her— but for him. The anticipation of their reunion weighed heavily on her. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought of him and the orphanage he had opened, a dream they had once shared. She was proud of him, more than words could express, but a profound sadness tugged at her. They were going to build it together. They had whispered plans late at night of the life they'd build and the lives they'd save. She knew how much the orphanage meant to him, how much it meant to both of them and not being there had been a constant ache in her heart since she had first learned of it. He did it, though, and she admired him so much for that.

A lump swelled in her throat. Her thoughts shifted, swirling with doubts and fears. What if their connection had faded during their time apart? What if he had moved on, found another Contessa (or two) to fill the void she had left behind? She couldn't blame him. That was the life he led—but that was before her. The idea of losing him, even though they were worlds apart, was a pain she couldn't bear to imagine. She swallowed hard, putting the idea out of her thoughts. Even if he had, it wouldn't take away from the man he became in her absence, the man she always knew he could be.

As she neared the orphanage, her steps grew slower, her anxiety intensifying. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, determined to face whatever lay ahead. She needed to see him, to tell him everything, and to hopefully share in their dream once more.

"Shall we wait here?"

The elf's voice startled her, drawing her back. His presence along with Nia's reminded her that this was more than a happy reunion. There was still a job to do, even if for just a moment, she had let herself forget. Forget the stakes. Forget the journey that awaited them. Forget that two of her friends were beside her. For her, it was just them. Just her and Mal.

She nodded subtly as she climbed the 3 stone steps to the orphanage door. She paused for a moment; her fingers ran over the sign reading "Mal's Orphanage", and below it, the words "no longer forgotten". Her heart swelled with pride and admiration.

Her closed fist hovered over the door as she worked up the strength to knock. She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself as she rocked her fist forward, only to find the door opening before she could make contact with it.

Three little faces greeted her. They instinctively took a step back, the oldest standing protectively in front of the younger two.

"Oh, hello," Daenarya offered softly, a smile of delight filling her face. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm just looking for my friend. Maybe you know him?"

The children studied her closely, whispering to one another.

"That's her!" Thalassa insisted, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "We found her!"

"Are you sure?" Ovisa questioned. "I wouldn't think our first quest would be this easy?"

"She looks just like her!" Thalassa continued. "You've seen that drawing Mr. Mal has in his room. That's her."

Lysander considered the girls' words a moment, thinking back to the drawing and looking at the woman standing before them. "I think you're right."

"What do we do now?" Thalassa questioned. The three children ignored Daenarya as they stood huddled in the doorway.

"We should just make sure," Ovisa advised. "We don't want to get this wrong."

"Agreed!" Lysander turned back to the stranger at the door. "What's your name?"

"Daenarya."

Thalassa squealed and bounced in place, vibrating with excitement. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"We really did it!" Ovisa cheered along.

Lysander stood proudly. He couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement. He tried to hope for Mr. Mal and the girls, but he didn't think any of them would ever be able to save her, but here she was. "Can you wait here?"

He shut the door, closing Daenarya outside before she had time to reply.

Ovisa opened the door again, poking her head out. "We'll be right back." She closed it once more.

Daenarya couldn't stop the giggle of amusement rising in her chest. Any doubts or worries melted away at the sight of those precious children. He did good.

A scream of anticipation pierced the air as the children bounded through the house. No door or wall in all the realms could contain their flurry of excitement as they ran through the halls and rooms, screaming for Mal.

Mal ran to them at the sounds, questioning what could be wrong, fearing the worst, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his dagger, ready to fight anyone who might threaten them.

"We found her! We really found her," Thalassa screamed, pulling on Mal's arm, attempting to drag him forward.

"It's her! We did it," Ovisa added, pushing the drawing of Daenarya she had taken from his room in his face. "We checked and everything."

"I didn't believe it, but the girls are right. We found Daenarya," Lysander agreed. "Can you believe it?"

Mal's head spun at the fast pace of their words but also from what they claimed. He knew how much they wanted to help, how much finding her meant to them since first telling them her story, but it couldn't be. He just didn't know how to let them down. They loved their make-believe games, but this one hurt more than any other could. "Did you now?" He finally offered, trying to play along.

"We did! We really did!" Thalassa continued pulling on him. Her small frame did little to move the strong rogue.

"I'm so proud of you." His smile was weak, not reaching his eyes that glistened at the sound of her name on their innocent lips. "I will need to hear all about your worthy quest."

The children exchanged looks. There really wasn't much to tell about their quest. They hadn't really considered that before.

"Well, we were going to go out and look around town," Ovisa started. She conveniently left out the part where she had planned to pickpocket some nobles. "We wanted to do research and ask around, but really all we had to do was open the door."

"So you found a magical door? A portal to the Shadow Realm?" Mal played into her story. "We'll have to alert the palace at once."

"No, I don't think so," Ovisa shook her head in confusion. She turned her attention to Lysander. "Is the front door magic?" Her eyes widened at the possibility.

"I don't think so," he pondered it a moment.

"The front door?" Mal questioned. "Of what?"

"Of here!" Thalassa dug her heels in, pulling harder. "That's what we're trying to tell you."

"This isn't a game?" His heart pounded in his chest.

"What game?" Lysander didn't know what he was talking about. "We really found her. She's outside."

Mal's feet carried him down the halls to the front of the building. His thoughts were torn between hope that they were telling the impossible truth and the pain of it being their attempt to cheer him up. Each step felt like a lifetime. The excited cheers and chatter of the children pulling and pushing him forward was a distant sound. All he could hear was the sound of his heart drumming in his ears, ready to break when she wasn't there. He couldn't let them see him like that.

"Maybe I should go alone," he decided when they finally reached the door.

"Awww," Thalassa let out a soft whimper. "But we wanted to see!"

Lysander pulled the girls back a step. "We're here if you need us."

Mal offered a half-hearted smile as he patted them on the back. "I'm so proud of all of you. I hope you know that."

"We do," Ovisa hugged him. "Now go!"

Mal nodded, reaching for the door. He schooled his face, hoping not to let his disappointment show to them. The door crept open slowly. Instead of the dark streets of White Tower waiting for him, he saw what he could only believe was a mirage of her.

He closed his eyes, shaking away her memory. He couldn't do this. Not now. He could break down later. But not while the children were there. He counted his breaths and shook the tears away, knowing that when he opened his eyes, the vision of her would be gone.

But she wasn't.

Her glistening eyes met his own as she stood locked with his gaze. "Mal."

She rushed forward, throwing her arms around his neck. She buried her face in him.

It took him a moment longer to return the gesture. He half expected her to melt away if he touched her, but she didn't. His arms enveloped her as he pulled her closer.

As Mal held Daenarya in his arms, the world around him seemed to blur and fade away. The sensation of her presence, her warmth, her breath against his neck, was almost too much to bear. His knees grew weak, and for a moment, he feared he might collapse under the weight of his emotions. Everything he had felt during their time apart, the grief, the longing, the guilt, all of it surged to the surface in this one overwhelming moment of reunion. He clung to her as if she were his lifeline as if letting go would mean losing her all over again. She was his rock, his hope, and his strength. If it was not for her, he wouldn't be standing now.

"Is it really you?" His words were a broken cry in her ear.

"It's me." She clung to him, refusing to let go. "It's me."

"How?"

Her hands cradled his face as she met his gaze once more. She needed to see him. "It doesn't matter right now." Her thumb brushed over the coarse hair of his beard. "I'm here now. That's all that matters. I'm here."

Unable to contain his overwhelming emotions any longer, Mal gently pulled Daenarya closer, his lips seeking hers in a tender, passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing and love. A kiss that spoke of all the time they had spent apart and all the moments they had yearned for this reunion. All the pain and sorrow of the past year melted away, leaving only the pure, unbridled joy of their love. The world around them could have crumbled, and they wouldn't have noticed. For at this moment, it was only the two of them.

The laughter, cheers, and eventual "eww, gross" sounds from the children were distant. Tyril and Nia brushing past the reunited couple, ushering the children inside, was a blur.

Nothing in all the realms mattered more than the love passing between them. This was what he had spent a lifetime searching for. A priceless treasure, worth more than gold and diamonds, someone who made him feel whole. The only place his heart longed to be— home. In her arms, that was home.

They parted, only to catch their breath, their foreheads resting together.

"I failed you," Mal grieved. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"You could never fail me," Daenarya marveled. "Look at what you've done, what you've created. This life you've made for the children—I couldn't be prouder. You are the best man I've ever known, Mal Volari."

"I am pretty great, aren't I?" He teased, trying to get out of himself. His light-hearted tone faulted. "I tried everything."

"Shh—" She pressed her finger to his lips. "That part is over. I'm here now. That's all that matters."

He pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her softly. His eyes closed, breathing in her familiar scent for the first time in a year. She hadn't changed a bit.

"Are they still kissing?" Ovisa called.

Thalassa stuck her head out a window before Tyril could pull her back in. "I think so. Hey! You're no fun."

As Tyril removed Thalassa from prying into the couple's moment, Ovisa relieved him of the sword on his waist. "Wow, this looks really sharp." She held the blade up, studying how the light reflected off its shiny surface.

"How did you get that?" Tyril's words stumbled as he stood in disbelief that anyone, let alone a small child, could have taken his prized weapon. "Get back here with that."

"Nuh-uh." Ovisa jumped up on the couch, holding his blade out to him. "Who do you think you are? Her—" she pointed the blade back toward the door. "—and her—" she pointed it at Nia."—we like. You, we don't know!"

"Ovisa," Nia approached calmly, holding her hands up. "Remember we talked about this; we don't take things that don't belong to us. You don't need to do that anymore."

"But what if I like taking things?" She pouted. "Look at how shiny it is!"

Tyril snickered. "Leave it to Mal to open an orphanage for thieves."

"How did you expect them to survive before this?" Nia questioned. "We're teaching them a better way."

Lysander stood next to Ovisa. "You still didn't answer the lady's question. Who are you?"

Tyril took an astonished step back. "Tyril of House Starfury."

The children broke out into laughter.

"No, you're not silly," Thalassa pulled on his arm. Her eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Can I touch your pointy ears? They look so big. I could just scream!"

"I am Tyril Starfury; surely, Mal has told you stories," he replied incredulously. A scowl pulled on his lips. "He may have used the name 'Elf Boy'."

"He has told us stories of Elf Boy, the great elf of House Starfury, but you're not him." Lysander took the sword from Ovisa, holding its tip to the elf's chest. "Are you one of them, from the Shadow Realm?"

"Maybe he's part of our quest," Ovisa decided. "We have to vanquish the imposter."

"Why would you children think I'm an imposter?"

"You're too tall?"

"I'm what?"

"TOO. TALL." Ovisa over-enunciated the words, making sure he understood.

Tyril stood dumbfounded. "Look at the blade; that crest is the crest of my house."

"You could have stolen it!" Ovisa pressed her hands to her hips. "I stole it from you, so does that make me from House Starfury too?"

"This is ridiculous," Tyril stammered, searching Nia for assistance. The priestess hid her face behind her hands to cover her laughter. "You are enjoying this. This is what I get for defending the realm with you a lot. What did he tell them."

Daenarya couldn't help but stifle her own laughter as she listened to Tyril try to reason with the children, their voices carrying through the still-open window. "What did you tell them?"

A devilish smirk pulled on his lips. "I started with the truth, Kit. That ought to count for something."

Her brow rose curiously, "And what did you end with?"

Mal ran his hand over the back of his neck. "Elf boy's height might have decreased with each story."

"How tall is he now?"

"Shorter than me."

Daenarya shook her head, "he will not be pleased."

"And that's different from any other moment, how?"

"You're trouble."

"Your kind of trouble?"

"Always," she replied, her lips drifting back to him. They would save Tyril from the children...eventually.

In my original HC for the orphanage I had the part about Mal telling stories about Tyril and his height getting shorter each time, but Tyril (and Maiele ~@lilyoffandoms ) became such an important part of Mal and Daenarya's life that it never worked out in my orphanage to do that, so I was happy to sneak that in here. Though I know if Maiele were here, he'd sit back and enjoy the show. He would be helping the children find flaws in Tyril's defenses just to see how long Tyril would argue with the kids.

I hope you enjoyed my reunion for Mal and Daenarya. My poor Mal with his 5 stages of grief could not be so chill as chapter 3 Mal. I get what PB was going for, but I've sent years developing these characters and that's not my Mal, but I get those that did enjoy it.

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate any and all support!

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skepticalfrogcat · 4 months

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Well, I said I'd do it and now I have. Welcome to my Blades fic writing debut. I was particularly inspired by something I said in this post, so this is sort of expanding on that. Here's the gist:

Relationship: Finch Parnassus (MC) & Nia Ellarious (Platonic)

Warnings: Some swearing

Word Count: 2,188

Summary: It's the middle of the night in Whitetower. Finch and Nia have a much needed conversation.

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A few nights had already passed since the party returned from the Shadow Realm. They were still staying in Whitetower, at least for now, since they'd already been given rooms. King Arlan had insisted they keep them for a while.

After all, what sort of a king would I be if I didn't provide a roof over the head of the Hero of Morella and his allies?

Those had been the King's words. And so they had stayed. For how long, none of them were entirely sure. Tyril or Imtura would likely be the first to leave; after all, they had their own kingdoms and families to get back to. Mal might be the next to go, surely off to some other job, some other heist, some other adventure. Nia would likely find a place to settle down elsewhere in Whitetower, although whether it would be the Temple or not was uncertain. Finch… Well, he didn't know what he might do.

It had to have been about five, maybe six days. He wasn't exactly keeping count. As the nights passed, and continued to pass, he hadn't slept much. Perhaps exhaustion had made him a little less sharp. Although, after all that had happened, he no longer knew how smart he'd ever been.

This was a night much like any other one. Finch was lying in his very comfortable bed, in his perfectly safe room, the stars glittering in the sky above, and he was utterly unable to fall asleep. Something was keeping him awake, that much he knew, but he couldn't put his finger on precisely what it was. Whenever he thought about it for too long it made his head hurt. His heart, too, like someone was prodding at it with a sharp stick.

Just as he'd resigned himself to another sleepless night, he heard a soft knocking at his door. It didn't startle him, but it did make him sit up. He slowly got out of his bed to investigate. He couldn't imagine who would possibly be coming to see him at this hour. The thought did cross his mind that somehow this was another threat, coming for him so soon after defeating the first, but he didn't want to believe that. All he knew was that the knocking was too quiet to be Imtura, Mal wouldn't waste a perfectly good night holed up in the castle, and Tyril considered himself far too dignified to be paying anyone a midnight visit. In spite of all of that, Finch still found himself surprised when he opened the door to see-

“Nia?” he murmured, rubbing at one of his eyes with the heel of his hand. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting?”

“I- I suppose I should, yes,” Nia nodded, speaking in a hushed tone. Her hands were clasped loosely in front of her. “But I've been unable to sleep tonight, because I've been thinking of you, and… there is something that I feel I should speak to you about.” Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, I hope I didn't wake you. I apologize if I did.”

“No, no, it's fine,” Finch assured her, waving his hand dismissively. “I haven't been sleeping either.” He stepped aside to open up the doorway. “You can come in if you want to.”

Nia hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside. There weren't many places to sit in the room, aside from one upholstered chair and a cushioned bench placed at the end of the bed, so she chose the latter. As she sat, she fiddled with the silky fabric of her light pink nightgown. Finch sat down beside her.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked, glancing over at his friend. He could tell she was nervous about something; the set of her shoulders and the way she was fidgeting said that much. He could only assume it was about whatever she had come to say, but he hoped against the worst. The possibilities flashed through his mind; was she leaving? Was she hurt? Gods forbid, was the Dreadlord coming back?

“I… I simply wanted to ask you how you've been, since we came back,” Nia explained. Was that it? Finch couldn't help thinking that it wasn't worth coming to see him in the middle of the night. He didn't know if it was really worth asking at all.

“Really? I've been fine, maybe a little tired but that's all.” Finch's brow furrowed. “If anything, I should be asking you that question. None of what happened has anything to do with me, not any more than it has to do with the rest of us.”

“Don't try to shift the conversation,” Nia scolded gently, almost sounding like she… wait, did she pity him? Why? She continued before he could ask. “Yes, I am hurting. I cannot begin to tell you how many times a day someone asks me if I'm feeling alright. But I know that you're hurting too. It may not be in the same way, but I can still see it. I need you to tell me the truth.”

“Nia, nothing’s wrong. I promise,” Finch assured her. “If something was wrong, I'd tell you, but I'm perfectly okay. I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Finch.” Nia placed a hand on his shoulder, a comforting gesture that instantly made him feel like he wasn't going to like what she was about to say. “...Have you gone to see him yet?”

Finch's body tensed. He felt his heart rate quicken. His hands gripped the edge of his seat. Nia hadn't named who she was speaking of, but he knew well enough anyway.

Aerin.

His jaw set. “No.” The truth was, he'd been trying not to think much about Aerin since they'd returned. It was no use. There wasn't anything he could do now, and dwelling on the past was too painful. Since then, he really had felt alright. He hadn't been lying about that. But now he was thinking about all of it again. Gods, he felt nauseous.

“I am not going to try to make you do anything you don't want to do,” Nia began, slowly combing her fingers through the lengths of her hair and not meeting his gaze. “...But he has been asking about you.”

Finch stood up and turned fully to look at her. He wasn't sure if he was upset with Nia, for taking that risk, or himself for being too much of a coward to do the same. “You've seen him?”

“Yes, I have. More than once,” Nia confirmed. “I don't believe anyone else knows, but I have.”

Finch took a deep breath, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Gods, Nia, you could've gotten hurt.”

“I recognize the risks.” Nia stood then too, her voice remaining calm and soft in a way that made Finch feel like he, in comparison, was utterly insane. “I believe in him, Finch. He's very… resistant to listening to me at the moment, but I refuse to entertain the idea that he can't be saved.”

“Nia, he tried to make you a vessel for an evil overlord.”

“I am aware.” She lifted her hands and placed them on his upper arms. “That's something I have taken the time to consider on my own, and it isn't what I want to discuss with you right now. I want you to tell me why you've been avoiding this.”

“I haven't been avoiding anything. There just isn’t anything else to say.” Finch stepped away from Nia, running a frazzled hand through his brown hair. “He was with us, and then he wasn't. Now we move on.”

“This can't possibly be good for you.” Nia took a small step closer to Finch, a divot appearing between her brows. “There has always been more to it than that.”

“What do you want me to say?” Finch threw his hands up defeatedly. “That I liked having him around? That he was a good friend? That I believed that somehow, some way, he might actually care about me?”

“Finch-” Nia lifted her hand as if to reach out to him, but he simply kept going. There was no way to stop his words now that they were finally coming out.

“I was stupid, Nia. And you know what the most idiotic thing of all is?” He laughed, but it carried no humor. His eyes held no light. “After all of this, if he still wanted me, I would drag myself back to him. Even after everything he's done, I still can't get over Aerin fucking Valleros.”

The silence hung heavy in the room. The air almost felt thick. A tense, icy moment passed where a part of Finch thought Nia was going to leave. But instead, she took a few hesitant steps forward, like someone might if they were approaching a frightened animal. Then, she did quite possibly one of the last things Finch would've expected; she wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him into a tight hug. For a moment he stood perfectly still, his brain still catching up with the action.

Before he knew it, he was beyond repair. He crumbled into pieces in Nia's arms, his posture slumping until he was able to press his forehead against Nia's shoulder. His body shook as his tears soaked into the fabric of her nightgown. He was embarrassed, almost ashamed, to be so undone over this. It was shameful. It was wrong to still have any feelings this strong about Aerin that weren't hatred. Maybe the mortification would at the very least help him regain some sense. He wished he could've kept himself together. Still, he wound his arms around Nia in return, seeking comfort even when his last shreds of dignity resisted.

They stood like that for a long time. It could've been five minutes, it could've been an hour, Finch didn't know. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, his voice uneven.

Nia took a small step back then, raising her hands and placing them gently on either side of his face. “There is nothing for you to apologize for,” she told him, keeping eye contact as she spoke. “You are not to blame for any of what happened.” She used her thumb to wipe a tear from his cheek. “And you are certainly not to blame for the way that you feel. No one can control that.”

“Don't tell them,” he pleaded. “Tyril, Imtura, Mal, don't tell them. And Kade. Please, Nia, don't tell Kade.” Something about the thought of his brother knowing that he still cared for the person who tried to kill one of his best friends - and successfully killed his own brother - felt deeply, personally unforgivable.

“I won't speak a word about this to anyone unless you ask me to. I swear it,” Nia promised him.

Finch breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Still, I do think that you should put more thought into what your next steps are going to be.” Nia took both of his hands, holding them between her own. “You aren't obligated to go visit him now, or ever. But I believe that if you try it, even once, it may help you more than you realize. It may help both of you.”

Finch considered that for a moment. A very strong half of his mind was screaming at him that he could never see Aerin again, or else he'd never be able to come back from it. But a quieter, more gentle part of his mind knew that what Nia was saying might have substance. Just going to see him once could help, especially if he stayed on the other side of the door. But it was still more complicated than that.

“I…” He began, trailing off as he thought about what he was going to say. “I'll sleep on it.”

“That's a very good idea,” Nia smiled up at him. “Hopefully you'll be able to rest more easily now. I'll try to do the same.”

“Goodnight, Nia.” He smiled back, but it was smaller, and with less certainty.

“Goodnight, Finch. I'll see you in the morning.”

Nia let go of his hands and touched his shoulder one last time before moving towards the door, glancing back at him one last time before leaving. Finch simply stood where he was for a while, replaying Nia's visit in his mind. He hadn't expected any of what he'd said to come out, ever. Had it been for the best? He wasn't sure.

He climbed back into bed, gazing over at the wall as he laid there. Now that the floodgates had opened, he was thinking of Aerin. He had a feeling he'd be doing that much more often now, whether he went to see him or not. There wasn't anything he could do about it anymore. He didn't know how things would turn out, and he didn't know if he'd ever truly get over his feelings. All he knew now was that he had to do the right thing.

No matter how hard it may be.

#no beta we die like baldur #(aka shamefully and with dishonor if this ends up being bad)#also i am considering doing a part 2 to this and i think we all know what that would be #so we'll see #blades of light and shadow #blades of light and shadow choices #choices #choices blades #playchoices #choices blades of light and shadow #playchoices blades of light and shadow #blades 2 #playchoices blades #finch parnassus #nia ellarious #aerin valleros #aerin x mc

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petalouda85 · 3 months

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Masterlist

I thought it was time to make a proper masterlist. I’ve never made one before so I hope it’s all good. Lots of projects coming in the future!!!

Fics

Blades of Light and Shadow

Braids - Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC

Concept: the Tyril reunion of Blades 2, as I imagined it pre-chapter 2.

Promise - Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC

Concept: victory over the Ash Empress quickly turns to tragedy. Tw: character death, use of alcohol to cope with grief, implied s**cidal thoughts

Forever (in my Mind) - Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC

Concept: the follow-up to Promise. TW: character death

Battle - Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC

Concept: A rewrite of the final battle in Blades 2

Baby Starfury Fics

Crafts

Tyril Starfury Amigurumi

Nia Ellarious Amigurumi

Threep Amigurumi

Miscellaneous

Some incredible fanart by the amazing and wonderful @lilyoffandoms

Meet my Blades MCs (coming soon)

*if you want to be tagged for my fics/crafts/both, feel free to let me know 🥰

#masterlist #tyril x mc #tyril starfury

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amysterygirlwithabigheart · 8 months

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This is it yall, this is where my heart breaks for Nia and MC. Imagine being MC, thinking they had been gone just for a day, came back to Nia, unchanged, but Nia had already moved on with her feelings and her life.

Imagine being Nia, thinking MC was actually gone, having forced to move on from MC. As she tried to move on, MC came back to her. Leaving her unsure of her feelings towards MC.

I wish they had a long conversation about how life had been for her, what she had been up to every day during the time MC was gone, I mean with great details. How hard it was for her to sleep or eat. Maybe this is just my angst talking, and I want more ofc. I wish we could play each of the LI's pov. It'd be very interesting to see how they cope with MC's absence/supposed death.

#nia ellarious #blades of light and shadow #blades of light and shadow 2 #bolas 2 #thats my wife yall #Spotify

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choicesficwriterscreations · 1 year

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CFWC FotW - December 11 - 17, 2022

🖤 = Adult Content/18+ 🔥 = NSFW/18+ Only ☃️ = CFWC Holidays 2022 Week 3

THE FRESHMAN SERIES

The First Christmas Together Part 4 | Chris Powell x F!MC - @eadanga ☃️ The First Christmas Together Part 5 - @eadanga ☃️ The First Christmas Together - Finale - @eadanga ☃️

IMMORTAL DESIRES

And don't go imagining that time is medicine | Cas Harlow x F!MC x Gabe Adalhard - @zigtheeortega 🖤

IT LIVES WITHIN

Rowan's First Christmas | Amalia de León x F!MC - @linkysmommy ☃️

MURDER AT HOMECOMING

Good Enough | Tyler Woods x F!MC - @judeschoices

OPEN HEART

QUEEN B

I'm not needed, never will I be. Part 1 | Ina Kingsley x F!MC - @kwaj115

RED CARPET DIARIES

New Beginnings | Thomas Hunt x F!MC - @hopelessromantic1352

Passion| Thomas Hunt x F!MC - @hopelessromantic1352

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

WAKE THE DEAD

Comfort & Joy | Eli Sipes x F!MC - @jerzwriter ☃️

CROSSOVERS:

Blades of Light and Shadow / The Royal Romance

That December Night (Series) | Nia Ellarious x Olivia Nevrakis - @aallotarenunelma Chapter 3: That's My Girl 🖤☃️

#choices fanfic #the freshman series #immortal desires #it lives within #murder at homecoming #queen b #red carpet diaries #wake the dead #open heart #the royal romance #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #playchoices fanfic

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retvenkos · 3 years

Text

rolled up messages | n.e.

Blades of Light and Shadow - Nia Ellarious x platonic!MC!Reader, slight angst, fluff requested by @brokenandheadoverheels

tw: mentions of death, seasickness, grief

word count: 1.7 (okay, but in my defense, this is nia, we’re talking about.)

song: message in a bottle - the police | 🔍

Summary: The sea worked in mysterious ways. This time, it brought you someone to grieve with.

When you had been little more than a child, your work knee-deep in the earth and all your life in your small and calloused hands, one of your favorite fantasies to spin was being a pirate. Kade had heard plenty of stories of life on a schooner, and seeing as you had never seen the sea, it was the most beautiful daydream your mind could concoct and escape into. It was a world beyond anything you had ever known. It was a romantic and daring vision - full of sea spray and gulls, the bright blue sky and the enchanting waves.

Life aboard The Wraith was anything but the stories Kade had once told. The hypnotic sway of the ship kept your mind in a constant and muted haze, and the endless skies muddled your sense of direction. Mostly, the days were dull, but on occasion, something more sinister lay within. Restlessness seeped into your veins - slowly, then all at once.

Only a handful of times in your life were you equally as rattled as you found yourself, now, and in each life-changing circumstance, what grounded you was working - the steady drudgery of tilling the earth, the resolute swing of a hammer, the clang of iron against an anvil. But here, there was no task to complete. There was just the open ocean and the ceaseless sky and the insanity that slipped in slowly. It was an itch, and soon, it would grow into a scream.

Most days, you sat around, waiting for things to happen. On occasion, the Captain - the fearless and headstrong Imtura - threw some meager task your way. You almost hated the way you jumped up, eager for something to do. The last thing you wanted to be was a dog begging for someone else's scraps.

The sea was lawless in its corruption; you would be damned if you let it turn you.

If Kade were here, he would have known what you were thinking before you were able to put it into words yourself. He was always perceptive like that - annoying, too, because he knew it. He would have teased you about your restlessness, and before you could register the stir-crazy feeling in your belly, he would have told you stories about how the sea could charm you into doing her bidding. She'd cut you down slowly and carefully until your will was broken and your mind was jelly. Then, she'd use the rhythmic sway of the boat to hypnotize you into becoming her servant.

Was Kade somewhere out there, now, being drawn and quartered, broken down by the shadow and being built up again, against his will? Was he sitting in the cargo hold of a ship or a dusty cell beneath the ground, insanity visiting him in the night? Was Death a new companion of his, gnawing at his skin until he was foaming at the mouth? If you found him, would the shadows cling to him the way ghosts once did? If you discovered him alive, would Kade beg you to end his suffering?

And would it be a mercy to give him what he desired?

The sea was churning your stomach, the acid within burning up your throat. The world - a flat blue that couldn't divide sky from ocean - spun. You needed a quiet place to sit down. You needed a moment alone to grieve.

You stumbled your way below deck, gasping for air. The ship rocked to one side, and you staggered to a wall, throwing one hand out in front of you, catching your breath. You couldn't think about Kade, but you couldn't damn well forget about him either. Not when—

"(Y/n)? Are you alright?"

You snapped your head to attention and found Nia blinking back at you, her delicate features sculpted into light concern - mouth turned, eyebrows knitted. On her lap, she held a leatherbound journal, one hand holding a pencil, paused in its scratching.

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself not to grimace.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you breathed. You could hear the irritation in your voice. You hadn't meant to direct that at her. "What are you writing?" you asked, trying to smooth things over - steering the conversation to a place you could handle. "Keeping a harrowing account of our journey?"

Nia stiffened like a child caught when acting out. If you weren't so seasick, perhaps you would have waved your question away, content to sit in baited silence. But you needed a voice in the din - something to take off the edge - and you knew Nia would comply.

"Not exactly," Nia said slowly, worrying her bottom lip. "I'm writing a letter."

"To who?"

"Oh, umm... you'll probably laugh, but Scholar Vash." Her words hit you like a bullet. In all of the chaos surrounding your quest, you had forgotten about the loss of Scholar Vash. When had your company ever allowed Nia to truly grieve? You had spared her a few moments after the shadow took him, but you hadn't given her such mercy since. You should have never been so thoughtless in your mission. Nia let out a breathy sort of scoff and shook her head. You wondered if she was blinking back tears. If the light were better, would you have recognized it when you first came down?

"I just want him to know that I'm well and that I'm staying true to my faith," Nia played with the ends of her long, red hair. The shimmer of her dress caught in the orange lantern light. She looked like an angel in mourning. "I also thought that I'd write down the questions I still want to ask him. Maybe somehow - through the Light - he'll be able to send some kind of answer."

"Kade and I used to do that with our parents," you commiserated, your voice choked. "Write them letters, I mean. People in Riverbend thought it was a way for orphans to appease the spirits of their parents. Connection. We used to send our notes in glass bottles down the river."

Nia looked at you and gently smiled. Her expression turned wistful, something that made you draw nearer, sitting on a crate next to her. You were closer, now, and you could see the tears welling in her wide, brown eyes.

"We used to do something similar in Whitetower. On days when we were left in the archives for studying, we'd all gather around and write notes to would-be kin. Of course, we didn't have a river, so our letters were tied to the feet of birds. Little rolled up messages saying 'I'm here. Don't forget me.'"

For a moment, Nia's voice drifted away. The ship continued to rock, but in that time, it felt like a mother rocking a cradle, soothing the weeping child within.

"Most of us are adopted by the Temple of Light when we're infants," she sniffed. "I guess it's universal to want to know where family might be."

Nia touched the journal before her, where loopy cursive graced the page and spelled out the name of Scholar Vash. You hadn't known the High Preist long, and while Nia spoke of him often, she was brief with her words. It was as though, on occasion, she forgot all that transpired, and she talked about him when she thought of it, only to have the abrupt realization that he passed, and his final moments were spent doused in shadow. Vash Vallerin had been more than just a teacher - the Scholar had become that of a father, the only one Nia had known. You could see the way the loss gripped her. It reminded you too much of the way you felt about the kindly farmer who took you in, of the little life you had created in the heart of Riverbend that was slowly fracturing - falling apart.

You grabbed Nia's hand - gently, at first, but squeezing it tightly when you got a firm hold. "You are here, Nia, and Scholar Vash may be somewhere out there, but I've known too many ghosts, and I know he won't forget you."

A tear fell down Nia's cheek, and you could feel your own doing the same. How comforting this was - feeling how deeply your grief ran but sharing in its bittersweet bite.

"It's only the living that struggle with forgetting those that we love. The dead have memories that outlive eternity and infinity - at least they have that on us."

Nia laughed - a mix of a chuckle and a sob.

"Scholar Vash will get your letter - no matter how you choose to send it - and I believe he will find a way to answer."

Nia squeezed your hand before letting go and dried her tears. She looked down at her journal to find a tear had wet the page, and she laughed. "I think Scholar Vash would have liked it better that way."

You smiled and wiped your own tears with the palms of your hands. You waited as Nia finished her letter, standing up and digging through the cargo in the hold to give her privacy. You found a bottle of good spirits and took a long drink. You debated on whether or not to offer the priestess some, but you decided it would be better to spare her the headache of refusing and made a mental note to give some to Mal later.

Nia finished writing her letter and tore the page out of her journal carefully. "I think a bottle would be the best way to go," Nia said, rolling up the parchment and turning to you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Nina affirmed. "It'll wash up on shore somewhere and—"

"And maybe the world will know we were here?"

Nina smiled. "And maybe they'll know we were here."

-- taglist: @fives-cup-of-coffee, @musicallisto, @missameliep, @brokenandheadoverheels // message me if you want to be added!

#choices #playchoices #choices: stories you play #blades of light and shadow #bolas #nia ellarious #nia ellarious x mc #nia ellarious x reader #reader insert #mc!reader #nia ellarious imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #slight angst #fluff #2.9k celebration

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musicallisto · 3 years

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˚ ༘✶ — 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 (nia ellarious & f!reader)

@emmacata requested: Nia Ellarious + “wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything, and everybody believed in you?”

summary: “My name was Nia Ellarious, the youngest Priestess of the Light in the history of Morella, disciple of Scholar Vash at Whitetower. I defeated Duke Erthax, Duchess Xenia, the Dreadlord and its Shadow Court with my companions, and brought peace upon the Realm of Light. Not once did I falter, though often I feared. Everything I wrote in my diary was truthful.”

author notes: I made this one a little longer & formatted it as a regular one-shot in honor of Blades Appreciation Week. I’m always late to these kinds of events but I really wanted to do something special for this one, and Emma’s request was the perfect excuse - also I love Nia so much. this is kind of a... paranormal!AU? ghost!AU? Tom-Riddle-diary!AU? idk I just think these types of plots are so cool. used she/her pronouns for the reader, and it’s almost totally platonic

word count: 2.5k

warnings: kind of bittersweet...?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐒 lived many lives before the one that brought it before her — it’s worn and its leather cracked and torn at the spine, pages yellowed by time and trial. Heavy in her hand, but more peculiar than any other item she has seen on the Whitetower flea market, it seems as though it refuses to open in the vulgar light of day.

“How much for the book?”

“That piece of junk?” the busy owner of the stand scoffs. “It’s been here forever. No one wants to buy a book they can’t open. Five copper at best.”

Such a small price for an age-old mystery — a bargain. Unhesitatingly, she hands him the coins, and although the sun is still high in the sky, she heads home, the journal emitting a curious heat in the crook of her palm. Nothing today will catch her interest quite like the book; she has seen enough.

And still, she hasn’t seen anything yet.

𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆: forcing it open with brute strength, palpating all the cover for a hidden mechanism, caressing its weathered spine as though she was taming a beast, even resorted to solutions she dares not admit without her cheeks reddening; asking it please and telling it sweet words, proclaiming made-up incantations and swearing on everything that’s ever been holy that she is worthy.

Stubborn, it doesn’t bulge; and like a moth to the flame, she keeps coming back to this airtight world.

“By the Light!” she lets out a frustrated cry after her twenty-sixth attempt bears as little fruit as the others. “Fine, stupid book, keep your secrets!”

And just like that, the journal exhales ever-so-slightly, like it’s been holding a breath for millennia and only now can rest. The shift in the candlelight by the book is unmistakable; the air is charged with an electric and formidable apprehension that all departs from and converges back to the book. Magic?

The Light?

No. The Light is but a children’s tale from times past, a centuries-old superstition that belongs to the same imaginary pantheon as the Shadow Court and other bedtime stories she’d hear long ago.

Carefully, she sits on her chair and opens the book with the softest of pressures.

Pages and pages spread before her, ink fresh as new and still bearing its original scent, of myrtle and forest winds, all in a language she has never seen before. It’s runes and runes as far as the eye can see, and as she turns the pages, she loses herself to the hundreds, no, thousands of symbols, practically impossible to differentiate to her lay eye, that tell her all their secrets in a forgotten script. She remains high-spirited still; she’s gone farther than anyone has ever gone before with the secret journal.

“By the Light?” she asks tentatively, hoping the runes will bow to her will if she invokes their master. “Uh... by the Light, please, turn into a language I can read?”

The pages remain unstirred. Of course — the Light does not exist, and never has. Buried forms of magic do not stem back to life from ancient artifacts. She’ll have to roll up her sleeves and translate it all the old-fashioned way.

She grabs a pencil, adjusts the light, and proceeds with her reading.

As she turns the pages, some of the pieces to figure out the puzzle of the book appear a little clearer to her. Sometimes, leafing through a few scribbled notes, she stumbles upon a careful sketch, a map of what she recognizes as Morella, drawn with the utmost care and precision. She identifies the capital and its proud dungeons, the circled dot around what she supposes means Whitetower, and a dotted path emerging from the Deadwood; she finds the drawing of a winged cat on the following page, a haughty frown on its feline face and excited little notes all around it; but there are few schemes to help her, and soon the writing comes to an abrupt stop, with dozens of pages left to fill. She gathers all the clues she’s collected with excitement, and starts jotting down her notes; the vaguely bird-shaped letter must stand for E with how often it appears, and the wave must be a vowel, and...

Absorbed in her transcription, flicking back and forth through the pages, she almost doesn’t notice the sentence that just appeared in the corner of a page, most definitely not in her handwriting.

“Who were you?”

It’s perfectly legible, the handwriting neat and diligent, clearly from a hand that’s long exercised in calligraphy; and unmistakably the same hand that drew the runes, and the map, and the cat, and wrote a life’s worth of inexpressible adventures a thousand years ago.

She pauses, eyes wide, breath shut, pen hovering above the page as if her every movement were spied on from another time. She blinks, hard, twice, then brings the candle closer to the inscription, almost close enough to set the paper on fire. It’s undeniable; the diary has spoken to her like an intruder, its voice that of a tidy and polite poet, and it must think her awfully rude, to conquer its pages without giving a name.

So she writes hers down, right underneath the new words.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious. Did you write all of this?” she quickly adds with a trembling hand, not nearly as neat as her mysterious interlocutor, and as ridiculous as it may sound, she truly expects an answer from this derelict diary.

It’s not long in coming, black letters slowly fading into view on the crinkled page.

“I did. I lived all of this. It was all true.”

“Who were you?” she asks the burning question as soon as the answer appears completely, unskeptical of the strange turn of phrase she used.

She waits. She fears the other might have been offended by the direct question, or that she may have been talking to herself, merely a hallucination, all this time.

But the answer does come, long and wistful.

“My name was Nia Ellarious, the youngest Priestess of the Light in the history of Morella, disciple of Scholar Vash at Whitetower. I defeated Duke Erthax, Duchess Xenia, and the Dreadlord and its Shadow Court with my companions, and brought peace upon the Realm of Light. Not once did I falter, though often I feared. Everything I wrote in this diary was truthful.”

But a question still tickles the back of her mind, and it isn’t entirely her incomprehension at all those foreign and forgotten names. Carefully, she insists.

“Who are you?” and she underlines the are twice.

The answer is the longest to come in all their otherworldly conversation.

“Pardon, but I did not understand what you meant.”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 is spent reading all she can on the Light, on the Shadow Court and its bloodthirst, and on the dark ages in the history of Morella that it shields from prying eyes. She borrows all she can from the Whitetower library, and her pressing questions cause more than one raised eyebrow among the librarians. Insanely enough, no one she interrogates, none of the scholars nor the students nor the elite writers and historians and professors she hails in the capital have ever heard of this Dreadlord and even less of a Nia and a ragtag group of adventurers. She dares not mention the Light to them, lest they think her madder than she may be already; but she returns to the flea market and tracks down the merchant she bought the diary from; gone without a trace.

Defeated, she slumps on her chair in front of the diary, exactly as she had left it the night before. She eyes it for a few instants, its incomprehensible tales calling to her like an indescribable glow...

No one in the whole of Whitetower remembers anything of the Shadow Court, and the prowess Nia accomplished. No one, except a spirit, a voice in between the pages.

“Could you tell me more about what you did?”

She answers almost immediately.

“From what point did you want to know?”

“From the beginning? There’s so little I know.”

Her answers come in parcels, little by little, one by one, easier to follow, and to recall.

“I was to depart with my master, Scholar Vash, on a journey to the Temple of Ellara, way down South, near Riverbend...”

Nia writes, or speaks, the difference is minimal, and she reads, all night long, and well into the morning, that soon washes the world anew.

“𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 about your companions, Nia. They seemed like quite the memorable bunch...”

“Oh, they were. Rambunctious Mal, who taught me card tricks and whose ribald songs I tried not to remember... Imtura, who sung too, her Orcish sailor songs, and grabbed Mal by the shoulder — a most hilarious sight, for she was much taller than him and lifted him off the ground. Tyril of the noble house Starfury, who pretended he did not sing but hummed melancholic tunes of his childhood when we were the only ones awake in the moonlight. Kade, sweet but sharp-tongued Kade, who sung and wrote the most, to our glory and our feasts, and never to our defeats. And Earis, who did not sing with her voice, but with her eyes, those of a leader, a friend, and a lover.”

“Which of these was the cat?”

The diary vibrates softly, maybe a breeze blowing through an open window, or a little laugh like a distant carillon in the wind...

“Threep was a Nesper, not a cat. An honest difference.”

A few spots of black ink dot the page for a few instants without a word covering the page. It’s a sign Nia is mulling over her words, perhaps invoking a memory even more distant than the others. Respectfully, she lets her think until the last words of the day mark the page.

“The life of a Priestess was most silent and lonely. What I loved them most for were their voices and songs.”

“𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 inside a body that bore all resemblance to mine, but did not belong to me anymore. I would have felt light-headed if I had had a head; I would have felt nausea if I had had a stomach. But all I had — all I was — was an impossible sense of dread and doom. I had faced corrupted elves and malign foes and monsters in the Deadwood, but I had never felt the sheer terror of being a vessel to great evil — hurting and killing with my own two hands, abandoned by the Light.”

She swallows hard. The temperature of the room seems to have dropped drastically; a chill washes over her body. She can feel the weight of a thousand-year-old threat, somber and suffocating, looming over her skin, in the dark of her room.

“How did you save yourself? How did you kill him?”

“I listened to them. All of them. They were begging me to keep fighting. To not relinquish a single fraction of my mind to the corruption of the Shadow. To trust in the Light and brandish it like a sword. And when I couldn’t trust in myself anymore, I knew I could lean on their voices, strong and unwavering.”

“You are the bravest person I’ve ever met, Nia.” (Then, remembering the priestess’ blockage to present times, she crosses out are and replaces it with a were.)

“I was emboldened by those around me. I could not take any credit for it.”

“But that’s exactly why they were brave too. They were made brave; by you.”

Is it specks of humidity that discretely stain the paper, or dots of melted wax from the flickering candle? Are they droplets from her world, or Nia’s?

“Nia, I want to ask you one more question.”

No answer. Nia never forgets to answer; she’s listening. Attentive and quiet, as she imagines she must have been when they were all gathered around a campfire, listening to one of Mal’s cock-and-bull stories, or Imtura’s raids on unsuspecting ships.

She takes a deep breath. The quill subtly shakes between her fingers.

“After what you’ve seen, all that you’ve lived through, all that you’ve suffered... you could confidently say the world was a terrifying place, right? Scary and malevolent?”

“I could have said that, yes.”

“I know you don’t understand the concept of ‘today’ or ‘present’, but... it still is. The world is still scary and bleak and dark today, and everyone has forgotten about the Light.”

“It was already a dying force when I prayed to it every night. I could feel its weakening heartbeat slipping from my fingers like a wounded creature...”

“And yet you’ve always spoken with grace, poise, humanity, compassion, and kindness. With love. You believe in love. Even after all of this, even after Scholar Vash and the Deadwood and Duke Erthax and the Dreadlord, you believe in love, and in humanity, and in betterment. How?”

“What else was there to do? I couldn’t stop believing. It’s all I’d ever had. It’s all that’s ever made humans better. Love, compassion, and faith in one another. In a greater power.”

“But Nia... wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything, and everybody believed in you? When you lived peacefully in Whitetower with your master and felt magic at the tip of your fingertips? When the world was still pure and untouched? When you hadn’t been betrayed and corrupted from the inside by greed and envy?”

She takes a look outside the window. The rhythm of the bustling city slows down as an ochre evening settles on the capital, and all the merchants and soldiers head back to their homes. To think, one thousand years ago, Nia walked the same streets every day, her heart full of love and understanding — the same streets low-lives and scoundrels, and criminals and murderers, and selfish and evil men walked every day, on their way to destroy the fragile balance of things... And to think Nia would have still believed in goodness and in the Light had she seen them strew their grime on the streets...

Lost in her thoughts, she almost forgets the answer she’s awaiting.

“It was comfortable, but not beautiful. I found true beauty when I found my family. If no one believed in me when I ran away from the Church, then they believed in me; and if I believed in nothing, then I believed in them.”

Somewhere, in another realm, another dimension, another space and time, a sudden realization blossoms in Nia’s mind, softly but all at once. Very slowly, Nia’s invisible hand strikes out the last few words she wrote.

“And to this day, I am sure of it, I still believe in them.”

tagging; @softeninglooks @fives-cup-of-coffee (all my writing) ; @lxncelot (playchoices) ; @missameliep @bladesappreciationweek

#this is ... kind of weird lol but it means a lot to me #mywriting #playchoices #choices stories you play #blades #blades of light and shadow #bladesaw #nia ellarious #nia ellarious x mc #nia ellarious x f!mc #nia ellarious x reader #nia ellarious imagine #blades imagine #playchoices imagine #playchoices fanfic #i wrote this in one sitting haha i am absolutely nuts #emma 🏀

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zigsnose · 3 years

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Modern Blades AU ft. Imtura the boisterous bartender, Tyril the reclusive bookkeeper, Mal the confident craftsman, and Nia the idealistic matchmaker (Ms. Match? never heard of her)

Extras below

Tyril + dark academia = a match made in heaven

#playchoices #blades of light and shadow #imtura tal kaelen #nia ellarious #mal volari #tyril starfury #zn edit #basically every tropey rom-com occupation #imagine the meet-cutes #telling ur woes to an attentive imtura #being on the hunt for a rare book in an eclectic store and oop--#a handsome elf man pops out to aid ur search #sign up for a matchmaking service... then fall in love with the matchmaker #it writes itself #blades 2 but make it Hallmark

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zenas-q · 4 years

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i call this one imtura and the landrats

#click for better quality bcoz tumblr hates me #also lemme just say #i died like three times drawing imtura next to aerin #ksks she could crush that twink with her pinky #i mostly hate how it turned out but oh well #imagine drawing tyril and aerin again lmaoo #those two and their outfits can go choke #mal was the easiest one to draw and he's the only valid binch in this house #mal volari #nia ellarious #tyril starfury #aerin valleros #imtura tal kaelen #blades of light and shadow #playchoices #choices #my art #damn thats a lot of tags

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dist4nt-shores · 3 years

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i don’t think anyone understands how badly i need a scene like the kingdom dance from tangled in blades 2

#i just wanna have my mc dance around with mal!#and just have the scene feel so free??#and imtura swinging nia around as they dance #and tyril begrudgingly joins in #dude can you imAGINE #choices stories you play #choices lis #bolas choices #blades of light and shadow #nia ellarious #mal volari #tyril starfury #imtura tal kaelen

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distraughtlesbian · 4 years

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nia: 𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒾 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝓁𝒶𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝑜𝓂𝒷 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒. 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒, 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝒾𝓉𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻

the mc: vibe check! *gazes at you tenderly from across the room*

#choices stories you play #playchoices #choices #choices bolas #choices blades of light and shadow #blades of light and shadow #bolas #nia ellarious #choices nia #priestess nia #bolas nia #bolas mc #maeve speaks #mine.txt #if it doesnt show up nia’s text says #imagine the love i must have dreamed of in the glacial tomb of my silence #greater than life greater than the dream itself

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fearofffear · 4 years

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anyways...stan blades of light and shadow if you like getting equal li time and an interesting story

#playchoices #blades of light and shadow #bolas #mal volari #nia ellarious #tyril starfury #imtura tal kaelen #imagine stanning open heart when blades is right there #i get people being mad because there's a lot to be mad about #but like...it's it worth the brain rot ramseynators give?? nop #they deserve to be called out for being racist?? yes #but you don't have to play oh #it's not worth it #don't lose precious time on that thing

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raleighcarrera · 3 years

Text

sparks

blades of light and shadow | mal volari x mc (raine nightbloom)

a penderghast college of elemental magicks au. for @bladesappreciationweek day 7 (mc/wild card) 💕

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @withbeautyandrage

~6.6k words | T

“you’re kidding,” raine said flatly, staring imtura down from across the table they’d stolen away at in the corner of the dining hall for breakfast. her expression was unimpressed over her plate of yorba eggs.

“i’m not,” she insisted, “tyril heard it from kaya who saw the file in admissions herself. mal volari transferred in over the summer. he’s dorming in the east residence. probably moving in right now while we sit here talking shit.”

“but why,” she whined, prodding miserably at her food, “didn’t he have the cushiest athletic scholarship ever at gildegraive? what could he possibly get out of transferring here?”

“a new set of romantic prospects?” imtura suggested, leaning over to snag one of the dragon links off of raine’s plate with a shrug. “either way, you should prepare yourself for thief tryouts. you know that’s the first place he’s headed.”

her stomach sank further as she considered the inevitability of imtura’s words. of course he was going to want to play thief. he was the best player gildegraive’d had in centuries. he’d expect to walk on to the varsity team at penderghast and would, doubtlessly, probably without even having to try out.

“just kill me,” she muttered, “i can’t possibly play my last season on the same team as mal volari. imtura, he’s insufferable.”

“he’s talented,” her friend shrugged, “you’ll get over it. maybe it’ll be nice to be playing with him instead of against him, for once.”

“nice isn’t the word i’d use,” raine grumbled, mind suddenly flashing through the last three years of thief matches against gildegraive in quick succession, recalling volari’s arrogant smirk and endless taunting, the whips of flames that always followed him around the stadium. “i give it four days before we kill each other.”

“that’s generous,” imtura scoffed, finishing off the last of raine’s dragon links in two quick bites, “my bet’s on serious tragedy striking after practice today.”

it didn’t help that most of campus was acting like they suddenly had a celebrity attending school with them. mal was in her first class of the day and so were the whispers that followed him, her classmates’ gaping so prevalent that she and nia were the only ones who actually managed to complete the spell they were supposed to be working on in advanced spellwork for seniors.

the one silver lining of it all was that nia seemed to see through his charm, too. “what are we missing?” she whispered to raine, as mal ran a hand through his hair to the tune of excited giggling from the girls in the last row of the room, grinning to himself as he did so. “he’s just a student like everyone else.”

“worse,” raine returned, comforting herself by imagining the look on volari’s smug face when she’d drenched his stupid fireballs in water and plucked his flag from his belt in the championship game at the end of last year. he was furious and soaking wet when they popped back into the stadium and the rest of the dryxmars had hoisted her up into their arms, and stomped off into the stands like the sore loser he was so his admirers could start to lick his wounds. “i can’t even stand the sight of him.”

nia looked at her warily, concern pinching her face. from a glance at her expression alone, raine realized how hard she was glaring across the room, and sighed as she slowly schooled her face back into something neutral and unclenched her fists, turning her gaze back to the plant on her desk she was meant to be taking through its life cycle, from sprout to blossom to apple tree and back again.

“you should ignore him, if he isn’t going to be nice to you,” nia murmured comfortingly, easily coaxing a bright red, shiny apple to form through the blossom of her tree’s flower, “it’s our senior year. we shouldn’t have to worry about anything.”

“that’s a nice thought,” raine sighed, blinking in pleasant surprise as her anger seemed to push forth a burst of magic that had five or six blossoms sprouting in her tree all at once, “but if he’s going to insist on playing thief with us i don’t know how possible ignoring him is going to be.”

they both fell silent as professor johnstone slowed to a stop in front of their desks. “ms. nightbloom, ms. ellarious. excellent spellwork. your plants could be an example for everyone else in class.”

as if on cue, the rest of the students turned to look their way. raine felt her face grow hot as her eyes met mal’s across the rows of desks. he looked surprised to see her sitting there, which made her mouth twist with annoyance again.

her tree wobbled, and one of the apples dropped off the leaves and into professor johnstone’s outstretched hand. raine looked up sheepishly, an apology on the tip of her tongue, but their professor only spun the fruit around for observation before lifting it to his lips to take a bite, chewing thoughtfully before nodding his approval. “amazing, ms. nightbloom, truly. top marks for today. for the rest of you, i expect to see thirty perfect trees when we meet again on friday.”

she and nia walked outside together, their steps slow as they turned in the direction of the sun-att classroom. “we’re still meeting in penn square later, right?” raine asked, assuming she’d need the distraction after what was bound to be a disastrous thief practice.

“of course,” nia answered with a smile, “you know how much it’d upset tyril if we eschewed tradition.”

“aww, i like our annual stroll through the rose garden just as much,” raine laughed, “it really sets the tone for the semester.”

“i agree,” nia said, “and i think --”

“oi, nightbloom!”

she and nia stilled as a loud voice interrupted their conversation, and she only had a moment to feel horror take her over completely as nia stifled a smile before the sound of mal volari jogging through the grass and stopping beside them reached her ears. he flicked his head to the side to push his hair out of his face and smiled charmingly at her. “raine, hey. long time no see.”

raine blinked at him, glancing at nia as she tried to process what in the six hells he was doing, running to catch up with her. “hi?”

“hi,” he echoed, the expression on his face stretching into a grin. of course his teeth were white, shiny and straight, like something out of a newspaper advert. she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

there was a prolonged beat of science before nia interjected, “i’m nia, by the way. it’s nice to meet you.”

“likewise,” mal agreed, finally tearing his eyes away from her to shake nia’s hand. “are you an earth-att? that tree you made was amazing.”

“sun, actually,” nia said, so humbly she didn’t even give mal a chance to be impressed, “my secondary attunement is water, like raine’s. we were planning to spend our free period in the sun-att classroom, if you wanted to...”

she trailed off, teeth biting at her bottom lip as raine widened her eyes at her, as though silently demanding, what do you think you’re doing?

from her left, mal shrugged, completely unbothered. his winning smile didn’t falter for even a moment. “oh, no, that’s alright. i was sort of hoping to have a moment to talk to raine, if you wouldn’t mind.”

nia shook her head good-naturedly even as raine narrowed her eyes. “and what about if raine would mind?” she demanded, folding her arms across her chest, “that doesn’t matter as much?”

“i’ll catch up with you in elemental manipulation, raine,” nia cut in, waving at the both of them before turning on the lawn so quickly her skirt whipped around to follow her stride across campus.

she huffed. now that they were alone, mal certainly wasn’t smiling, anymore. the rest of the students in the quad were openly staring at the both of them, gossiping behind their backs. “did you need something?”

“well -- i wanted to talk to you about thief, i guess,” he said, lifting a hand to scratch at the stubble lining his jaw. for the first time in as long as she’d known him, he seemed unsure. “i know you and i don’t have the most positive track record.”

“and whose fault is that?” she shot back, suddenly seething, her annoyance made worse by the fact that she had to tip her chin up to look him in the eye. “you’ve been a massive dick to me since freshman year. you’ve always played dirty, always been a sore loser and always talked trash behind my back. the only thing i want from you this year is to stay out of my way.”

“don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” he asked, seemingly surprised by her outburst. gods, the arrogance of this man. “sure, we’ve had a bit of a rivalry, but --”

“a rivalry i’ve never been interested in and certainly don’t care about now. it’s my senior year just as much as yours. i don’t need you making things difficult for me.”

mal’s expression darkened, but she hardly gave him the chance to sneak another word in. before he could open his mouth to bite back at her, she turned and stomped off after nia, as quickly as she could with the rest of the student body still whispering about her as she zipped past.

thief tryouts were as much of a disaster as she’d predicted they’d be.

her co-captain was nauseatingly enamored by mal and waved him onto the team at the start of practice without a single question. he hardly spared her a glance as he got himself a jersey and pulled it on, either completely shameless or oblivious to the way the rest of the team gaped at his bare chest while he changed on the pitch.

it wasn’t like she could do anything about any of it. the rest of the team would stage a mutiny if she tried to stop volari from joining. her hands were tied.

but she had to draw the line somewhere, and felt herself reach her breaking point when one of the juniors on the team stumbled into one of their own traps because they’d been watching mal work, tangling herself up in thorny vines raine had to come over and cut her out of.

“for fuck’s sake,” she snapped, as the girl dropped back onto the stadium’s pitch with a sigh, “he’s just a regular person. either pay attention to practice or get out.”

the most annoying part was that he was good. she knew that, objectively, from years of playing against him, but watching mal up close, without the distraction of a game to win in the way, was like watching art. infuriatingly, she spent most of practice trying not to get caught looking his way instead of checking up on how the rest of the team had progressed over the summer.

the fact that she couldn’t find a single fault in his form was maddening. his spellwork was flawless, his technique was perfect, his athleticism was superior. already he was stronger, faster and smarter than ninety percent of the team.

what a dick.

jesse, one of the other seniors on the team and her best offensive forward, sauntered over to the side of the stadium she was doing her best not to outright drown while she focused her magic into creating a trap that looked like a puddle with the depth of an ocean. “you look like you swallowed a lemon.”

“i just need five minutes where i don’t have to look at his stupid face,” she muttered, hand held aloft in front of her as the puddle between them rippled and expanded, swirling with an angry current a puddle of water shouldn’t be able to have.

“i get that,” jesse answered, and she blinked, surprised by his understanding. “it must be weird for you, having to just... get along with him, now.”

“everyone expects me to just get over it,” she bit out, water splashing up out of the puddle at her feet and onto the grass, spreading out to widen the distance between them. “but why should i have to be the one who plays nice? why should i have to be the one who doesn’t get to enjoy senior year because i have to babysit some stuck-up, egotistical, glory hungry shampoo model? why?”

they both fell silent as the water surged up suddenly and a wave crashed over the empty stands, soaking the bleachers. to her surprise, a fish flopped out of the puddle she’d created and thrashed on the grass until jesse banished it with a sigh.

the entire team was looking at them now. she could feel everyone’s eyes on her back and read their stares in jesse’s expression, which was pitying and concerned in equal measures. “i need some air,” raine said, dashing out of the stadium without waiting for a response.

the sun was starting to set as she made her way onto the bridge. raine stopped to lean out over the side and squint up into the hazy colors the clouds were turning, pushing her hands through her hair in frustration that only mounted when a hesitant set of footfalls paused a few feet away from her.

she looked down, saw a pair of familiar boots and groaned.

of course it was mal.

“are you alright?” he asked, somehow managing to make his voice sound genuine. evidently he’d been practicing, since that afternoon.

“are you not able to just leave me alone?” she countered, “i feel like i’ve made myself pretty clear.”

“well -- i wish you wouldn’t.” raine tuned her head to the side and found him frowning at her, his dark eyebrows pinched together. “i don’t know why you’re so set on avoiding me.”

she scoffed, turning away. “guess.”

“look.” that tightness from the courtyard was back in his voice as he stepped up beside her on the bridge, moving in closer. “i’d really prefer not to spend the entire term bickering. i want to play thief and enjoy my last year, same as you. it’d be a lot easier to do that if you and i could get along. can you give me a break?”

“you’ve been a thorn in my side for three years; we’re not going to be best friends overnight,” she snapped, grateful for the encroaching darkness of twilight as she could feel her face start to flush. “especially not with you being so -- you.”

mal pursed his lips. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i mean, thea collins almost gave herself a season-ending injury at practice because she was too busy staring at you. i mean the flexing and the hair-flipping and the smirking -- you’re distracting people.”

that made him grin. “am i distracting you?”

“not on your life,” she laughed, “but i can’t have my best defense benched because some guy winked at her. if you want me to think of you being on the team as tolerable, you’re going to have to tone it down.”

“for the record, i didn’t wink at her,” mal argued, folding his arms across his chest. “i don’t think i even know who you’re talking about.”

“right.” all the anger deflated out of her suddenly, making her shoulders droop. “well -- whatever you did, just don’t do it again.”

“i’m not sure i know how to suppress my natural charisma,” mal said innocently, in a way that had her rolling her eyes with force. “i don’t intend to be charming.”

“you don’t succeed at it, either,” she quipped, biting down on the inside of her cheek to stop her lips from twitching upwards when the comment made mal’s head tip back with a loud peal of laughter.

“fair enough,” he murmured, and then they both turned on the bridge in unison to head back to the stadium, the tension between them momentarily dissolved. as they walked off, flames danced in mal’s palms to light their way back through the dirt path. show off. after only a beat of silence, he cleared his throat and said, “so, you were talking to that guy for kind of a long time. number eleven.”

“jesse?” she clarified, eyebrows arching. “he plays offense with me. he’s one of the best on the team. i think he was trying to make sure i wasn’t drowning the poor grass.”

mal didn’t say anything, only sort of exhaled in acknowledgment of her answer. she snuck a glance at him and saw the flames from his hands reflected in his eyes, dancing along warm brown irises and dilated pupils. “i remember that trap,” he said finally, breaking the awkward silence, “the one you were practicing. sophomore year quarter-finals, yeah?”

raine blinked. he was right. “yeah,” she answered, “you didn’t fall for it, though. jumped right over it like it wasn’t even there.”

they’d lost that year, making last year’s victory all the sweeter. but their triumph as juniors didn’t make remembering the loss to gildegraive smart any less, and she still had a scar on her arm from where one of mal’s party tricks had gotten too close and burned her, fire incinerating the sleeve of her jersey clear off.

“adrenaline,” mal murmured by way of explanation, like he was thinking about the burn, too, and the way she’d screwed her face up tight to stifle the angry tears of pain that threatened while the healers patched her up. “sometimes i don’t even realize what’s happening, while i’m out there.”

“well, that’s not going to fly on my team,” she instructed, as they reentered the stadium to come face-to-face with twenty-four players doing their best to pretend to be busy. “so, like i said... tone it down.”

they both seemed to notice the two girls staring and whispering from across the field at the same time. mal smiled, and in their rush to turn away now that he’d made eye contact with them they tripped over each other, tumbling down onto the grass.

he held up his hands when she turned her glare on him. “hey, i’ll try.”

because practice ran over she was late to penn square, sweaty as she raced over to the rose garden. predictably, she was the last of her friends to arrive.

“you’re late,” said tyril, frowning down at her windswept hair. “and causing a stir, it seems.”

raine doubled over, trying to catch her breath. she turned her questioning gaze first on nia, and then on imtura, who grinned crookedly at raine and helpfully said, “i heard from, like, twelve different people that you and mal volari were flirting in the courtyard.”

she reached out to shove imtura, for all the good it did. her eyes snapped incredulously back up to tyril. “you heard that?”

from beside him, kaya laughed warmly. “that’s how you know word’s gotten around.”

“great,” raine sighed, tipping her face up to squint at the stars now blanketing the sky. “so, i’m dropping out, then.”

nia gasped, shaking her head. “you can’t drop out, raine! not so close to graduation.”

with a groan, she stood up to her full height, arching her back to stretch her spine. “fine, i’ll stay. but only for you.”

nia smiled brightly at her, stepping up to link their arms together. “come on. i’ve still got to study when we get back later.”

they strolled into the garden, the rest of their friends following behind. raine was quiet as nia started gushing over a new patch of blooms that had been installed over the summer, staring unseeingly at the rows of roses swaying in the breeze before them, winking through a cycle of pastel colors.

her mind was still back in the thief stadium, thinking about her conversation with mal. was it really possible for them, to have a fresh start? could she pretend like three years of history never happened, and put it all behind her in the interest of, what? getting to know him better? being friends?

imtura’s shoulder bumped roughly into hers, jostling her from behind. “earth to raine. what’s wrong with you?”

“huh?” she asked, tearing her gaze away only to find that everyone was suddenly staring at her, “oh, nothing. just tired. practice ran long -- there was a whole thing.”

“is volari any good, at least?” imtura asked, arching her eyebrows. raine could see kaya tune into their conversation while tyril rolled his eyes from beside her, muttering to himself as he walked on ahead to look at the other roses in the garden. “he didn’t forget how to play over the summer?”

“he’s perfect,” raine huffed, “of course. he doesn’t even have to try, it’s nauseating. most of the team thinks he’s the gods’ gift to this school. they were tripping over each other just to get a glimpse of him. it was like trying to coach a group of overexcited toads.”

“i hope you’ll be able to find a way to get along, raine,” nia interjected as imtura snorted with laughter, a worried frown fixed on her face. “it’s not right that the rest of the school is talking about you.”

“it’s fine,” she dismissed. it’d hardly be the first time. the rest of her class had only just moved past her incident with the dean’s daughter freshman year. “let’s go let tyril teach us about roses before he has an aneurism.”

“i heard that,” tyril said calmly, but as they stepped up beside him he did start explaining the significance of the new roses and the enchantment they’d been given to make them change colors, so she figured that was a win.

mal sat with them at breakfast the next morning.

as in -- he physically put his body into the open chair at their table, leaving imtura blinking at her in surprise and nia politely coughing into her hand, as though to suggest that raine should rearrange the look on her face from horrified confusion into something more acceptable for company.

“morning,” he grinned brightly, like raine wasn’t gaping at him like he was something that had crawled out of the lake, “happy second day of term.”

“uh, what are you doing?” she asked, emboldened by the fact that tyril wasn’t there to kick her under the table for being rude.

“eating breakfast,” mal answered innocently, as though they were friends now, or something. there was a plate piled high with eggs and toast in front of him.

“but why are you eating it here?”

“raine,” nia cut in, “stop it, of course mal can sit with us.” she lifted her head and shot mal a sunny smile while raine turned towards imtura and rolled her eyes. “how are you liking penderghast so far?”

“it’s different,” he said, “the food’s a lot better than at gildegraive.”

raine stared down at her cereal while he and imtura introduced themselves from either side of her. her prophecy o’s were still whizzing around in the bowl she’d snatched from the buffet nearly twenty minutes ago. she sighed, smacking the bowl with her spoon. “cheap trick. at this rate we’ll miss the potions seminar entirely.”

“those things still spinning?” imtura asked, leaning over to take a look into her bowl. “maybe that means you’re going to have a really fucked up day.”

“i don’t need the cereal to tell me that,” she muttered, scowling when her answer triggered mal’s warm laugh in response.

they all watched as her cereal slid to a stop abruptly. “seize the day or be seized by the day?” raine read aloud, her brow furrowed, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“sounds threatening,” mal said, and she jumped as she realized how close he was to her, leaning over her shoulder to look into her bowl. her face felt hot when she reached out for his shoulder and shoved him away.

“that’s prophecy o’s for you,” nia interjected sympathetically, “woefully vague.”

raine ignored her, stuffing a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. for some reason, she heard herself say to mal, “you know the whole school’s gossiping about you, right?”

evidently he didn’t know that. his eyebrows arched up almost to his hairline. “really? why?”

“because of our argument in the courtyard,” she answered between bites, viciously swirling her spoon through the milk to scramble the letters away.

“oh,” mal said, recognition jumping into his gaze, “you mean they’re gossiping about us. i figured that would happen.”

she hardly noticed nia and imtura clear their plates and make their goodbyes with the way she was staring at mal. “you did?”

“sure.” his voice sounded as though it should have been obvious. “we’re the biggest names in the sport and now we’re at the same school. can you blame people for being curious about what that means?”

“i think you’re oversimplifying it a little,” raine said, because he was. “we basically made each other’s lives miserable for the last three years.”

“well, yesterday you said it was just me ruining your life, so this feels like an improvement,” he grinned, nodding down at the large bowl of cereal she was still working her way through. “you do know there’s still two other meals today, yeah?”

“shut up,” raine said, without chewing or swallowing that time, because nia was gone and he totally deserved it. “some of us actually do magick here, so -- we use energy. i wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“that hurts, raine.” mal laid a dramatic hand over his heart, very nearly pouting at her from his seat at the table. “i’m more than just a pretty face, you know.”

“you’re barely even that.” around them, other students were staring as they milled around in the dining hall. the way the room was emptying out meant that she was probably going to be late for the potions seminar they were both expected at. “we should probably get going.”

mal shrugged, toast held aloft between two fingers. “or we could ditch.”

her eyebrows arched in surprise. “ditch class?”

he laughed, a grin springing onto his face. “rich reaction, coming from the girl who got caught with the dean’s daughter in the --”

“okay, lower your voice,” she rushed to say, glancing around before shrugging carelessly. “i don’t care about ditching potions, but... what would we do instead?”

mal flung the crust of his toast back onto his plate, dusting off his hands. “you have the keys to the stadium, right?” she did. his eyes glinted as his grin grew larger. “how about we play a little one-on-one?”

not only did she have the keys to the stadium, but raine was also experienced in programming the game simulator, which left her at an advantage as she picked the scenario they’d be playing in. she chose something that was sure to play to her skillset -- a sprawling beach with a big, beautiful ocean, perfect for her to manipulate.

“you’re still not going to beat me,” mal taunted, seated in the middle of the field and lacing up his shoes without touching them, magick crackling visibly in the air around him. “no matter how much you cheat.”

“big talk coming from gildegraive’s biggest cheater,” she returned calmly, shifting to tie back her hair. “when i beat you it’ll just be because i’m an all around better player than you are, but it’s not surprising you’d want to allege cheating now to get in front of your loss.”

“don’t think you’re going to confuse me by sounding smart.” he leapt to his feet, and she took notice of the white flag tied around his waist with a roll of her eyes.

“sorry, i’m sure you’re confused enough just being yourself.”

“exactly,” mal said triumphantly, and then, as the stadium started to dissolve away around them, “hey, that’s not what i --”

the sound of his voice faded in favor of the noise from the beach. as raine crept silently along the sand, she could hear birds above and waves on the shore; in the distance, there were the beginnings of a boardwalk and a pier looking out over the water.

unfortunately, there wasn’t much in the way of cover. eyes alert for mal, she started off down the sand quickly, coming up to a short stop when the beach started to rumble beneath her feet, almost as if there was an earthquake incoming.

her teeth bit at the inside of her cheek to stifle her grin. if there was one thing she’d learned playing against mal for three years, it was that he wasn’t subtle.

she waited for him to bust up out of the sand before sending a wave from the ocean crashing down on the rocks that erupted beneath his feet, immediately extinguishing the fire that followed him wherever he went on the pitch.

if it was satisfying to watch as saltwater completely soaked every last inch of him, even ruining his pristine, fluffy hair, it was even more satisfying to grin in his face before she took off running, waiting for him to give chase.

raine was almost to the pier when he caught up with her, and from there, their magick met in the middle, water and fire twisting around each other while they paced in circles on the sand. it was rare that she got to play against someone she was so evenly matched with, and she was thrilled to have a challenge after a summer spent messing around with her friends and taking things easy.

mal had improved a bit since she’d beaten him at the end of last term, loathe as she was to admit it. at the very least, he’d been practicing being less predictable, something that was more than mildly irritating, given how much she relied on knowing all of his moves.

as she crashed another wave from the ocean down over his head, raine realized she was going to have to do something unexpected, too, if she ever wanted to get his flag and shut him up for good. before he could push his wet hair out of his face, she lunged forward and tackled him onto the sand, trying to pull his flag off his belt.

“what are you doing?” mal demanded, reaching for her arms and wrestling them away, “this is cheating.”

“not technically,” raine reminded him, because it wasn’t. thief wasn’t exactly a contact-free sport by any stretch of the definition.

and there wasn’t anyone around to moderate when you blew off your morning classes and snuck into the stadium, so as far as she was concerned -- all bets were off.

“you’re such a brat,” he huffed, doing his best to roll them over and succeeding in shoving her onto her side while she wiggled around in his grip, “you can’t ever be wrong.”

“you’re the insufferable one,” she insisted, “showing up here, acting like you want to be friends.”

mal finally managed to shove her down that last inch, pressing her back flat into the sand. his hips held her down at the waist, but before he could go for her flag, he had to stop her arms from flailing, trying to rip his own off his belt. “i do want to be friends,” he grit out, wrenching one of her arms down, “fucking hell, you make everything so difficult.”

“me,” raine scoffed, “okay, sure. i make everything --”

the words died in her throat as mal leaned down and kissed her, sealing his lips over hers. her eyes went as wide as the sun, then slammed shut when he pressed in closer, gently moving his mouth against hers.

of course he was a perfect kisser.

her fingers pushed into his hair, damp and sticky from the saltwater, and she felt him settle over her more fully, skin warm from the sun. her body sunk into the sand and though she knew she’d be shaking out her hair long after the illusion faded and they went back to the stadium, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care about anything other than the all-encompassing weight and breadth of him above her.

mal made a soft noise in his throat that sent a shiver down her spine and she responded with an answering hum, arching up off the sand to get closer to him.

for a moment, it was easy to forget who and where they were. all thoughts of school and thief and the pressure of making their senior year one to remember disappeared, replaced only with the peace of the waves and the dead silence that came with knowing they were completely alone.

gradually, she became aware of how fast her heart was beating. her brain suddenly reminded her that she was kissing mal volari, and awareness crept back in, overshadowing how nice it had felt to be in solitude together with panic.

raine reached down and yanked mal’s flag off his belt, ending the game. all at once the illusion around them shattered, yanking them rudely back to the stadium. in the confusion, she wriggled out from underneath his body, standing up to put some distance between them.

from the ground, mal stared up at her in surprise. “raine,” he started, voice low and hoarse, “i...”

“still lost, even though you cheated?” she waved his flag around with more bravado than she felt, resting her free hand on her hip. “yeah, you did.”

“i didn’t cheat,” he argued back, effortlessly taking the bait, “you were the one who gave up on the rules. and i didn’t -- i wasn’t trying to distract you, fuck.”

the optimism she’d felt a moment earlier when she assumed she’d be able to argue him out of this conversation evaporated like smoke. “no?”

mal rolled his eyes at her. “don’t be stupid,” he said. an uncharacteristic shyness flickered over his expression. he rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. “you know i like you.”

“um, no i don’t,” she said dumbly, before she could stop herself. “i mean -- what?”

he sighed, then rolled onto his feet, too. there was sand all over his arms -- not that she was looking. “look, if you want me to back off, i will. but, honestly... there’s not a single thing at this school that interests me except for getting to know you better.” mal shrugged in a way that was hopelessly endearing, then admitted, “and thief, i guess.”

“this is really weird.” the look on mal’s face seemed to suggest that he thought so, too. but he didn’t say anything, so she continued, “but... i don’t want you to back off. i -- um, i’d like to get to know you better, too.”

mal smiled slowly at her, and she realized all at once that her pulse still hadn’t calmed from the frantic pounding it’d been doing back on the beach. she drew in a deep breath, hoping it’d help.

instead of calming down, her stomach felt suddenly swarmed with butterflies, beating their wings inside her ribcage like a hurricane.

still, it didn’t stop her from shifting on her toes so that some of the sand fell out of her clothes, and smiling back.

despite the many, many times she’d practiced saying it that morning in the mirror, raine knew her voice did not sound casual or nonchalant in the slightest when she told her friends, “i invited mal to come to the solstice party with us this weekend.”

predictably, each one of them stared at her as though she had completely lost her mind -- even nia. “mal... volari?” imtura asked, voice measured.

raine nodded, averting her eyes. it had been so much easier to pretend to be casual in her room in the mirror. “yeah. he hadn’t heard about it so i said he could come with us.”

“but -- why?” imtura asked, frowning at her, “you said he was a tool.”

“yeah.” she’d said much worse, too. she pushed her food around her plate without elaborating.

“i thought you two hated each other,” kaya tried, though if the little smirk on her face was anything to go by, she didn’t really think that at all.

raine shrugged. she looked up from her dinner just in time to catch sight of mal making his way over to the buffet, and though she did her best to look away before she’d start to flush, she wasn’t quick enough to miss the once-over he gave her, or the genuine smile that followed it, something like affection in his gaze.

“well -- he’s not totally terrible,” she muttered, reaching for her glass while still doing her very best to keep her voice level. “it probably won’t be so bad.”

“i think it’s great,” nia interjected brightly, “we could always use more friends.”

casual, she reminded herself, for once in your life, act casual. “sure -- friends. definitely.”

imtura gaped at her. “oh my god, you already hooked up with him.”

kaya’s grin stretched a mile wide. she clapped her hands excitedly in front of her plate. “what?” raine spluttered, stomach churning with a deep mix of embarrassment and dread -- if she knew her friends as well as she thought she did, they were never going to let her hear the end of this. “i did not!”

“okay, was it incredible?” kaya asked, rolling her eyes at the look tyril sent her way. “what? don’t act like you’re not curious.”

“oh my god, we just kissed,” she said, because the alternative to just admitting it was so much worse. “can we please not talk about it anymore?”

“no need,” imtura said, and raine only had a split second to relax before she smirked and continued, “here comes your boyfriend now.”

“stop it,” she hissed, kicking her friend under the table before mal dropped into the empty seat beside her with all the familiarity of someone who’d done so a thousand times before.

“hey,” he said, like he had dinner with them every night, “how was class?”

“oh, um -- fine.” raine returned to what was left of her dinner, back to pushing her food around. silence settled over the table, heavy and oppressive.

mal let it linger for a moment, then lifted his head and smiled at her friends. “it wasn’t really a big deal, we only made out.”

raine groaned loudly enough to draw the attention of a few nearby tables, piquing the curiosity of the students around them who’d been doing their best to pretend like they weren’t already eavesdropping. “please don’t encourage them.”

it was too late. kaya was already bouncing in her seat, demanding every single detail -- when, how, why and for what length of time and in what way -- and even imtura and nia looked entertained.

mal leaned in close while the rest of them bickered behind their backs. “why not?” he whispered, the rough sound of his low voice in her ear making her nearly bite her tongue clean off mid-chew. “i think this semester’s going to be really fun.”

“i think it’s going to suck,” she said, once she’d very carefully swallowed and managed to get a grip on her even breathing again, “because you suck, and are terrible.”

“that’s the spirit,” mal said fondly, reaching out to sling an arm over the back of her chair.

raine pursed her lips as whispers broke out from the nearby tables. she was halfway to turning around to give the nosy student body a piece of her mind before she saw the warmth in mal’s eyes and gave up on pretending to be anything but happy, tilting into his hold and leaning into the open space at his side while they joined the argument with her friends, together.

#bladesaw #mal volari #mal volari x mc #blades of light and shadow #bolas #myfic #long post #this was so fun to write i hope u all like it :-)

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