#your friend the faerie king offers to let you take their place if you want | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sxlver-sweet · 3 years

Note

Please i'm begging youu i want to see more fantasy au for tokrev and that pirate would be so good i even have some idess on me already 😩

–🎴

I HAD A FUCKING FIELD DAY WITH THIS I WANNA HEAR YOUR IDEAS PLS SHARE

i’m currently sleep-deprived, so some of these are probably really basic and there’s most likely errors somewhere in here skdkcmdksk

also, requests may be closed, but discussions and more ideas are absolutely welcome.

faerie!kokonoi, who preys on the heartbroken drunkards at upscale bars, listening with a secretive smile as they spill their life stories to the bartender. silver-tongued and clever, kokonoi purrs his condolences, slipping their name into the conversation with ease and feigning oblivion when they, cloudy-eyed and ignorant, hand over their precious bank information and the locations of their valuables.

tailor!mitsuya unable to concentrate on stitching up a torn dress with the incessant clanging in the background and snapping at blacksmith!pah-chin, who’s busy forging knight!baji a new sword. mitsuya chastises baji for being so careless, but all baji does is grumble and turn away, black oil and dirt smeared on his flushed cheeks and long hair clinging to his sweat-stained forehead from his previous sparring session.

wizard!mitsuya spinning golems out of clay and shooing them away with an order to find him more materials to craft matching cloaks for his newest apprentices, luna and mana.

leprechaun!nahoya luring unsuspecting villagers into the forest with the promise of gold coins, only to send branches crashing down onto their heads when they venture far enough. they shout irately and scramble after him as he tumbles, laughing, into the shadows… but it’s no use. he’s too fast.

mermaid!yuzuha punching the shit out of pirates and dragging them down from their ships when they disturb and/or hunt the peaceful merfolk

knight!draken pledging his life to princess!emma

werewolf!baji, who appears to casually laugh off questions about his sharp, prominent canines; when in reality, when he’s secretly sweating bullets. werewolf!baji, whom the others wrinkle their noses at and tease when he orders his steak rare. werewolf!baji, who can’t hide the particularly ferocious, almost predatory glint in his eye that only appears during brawls after the sun has fallen. everyone laughs it off, mistaking his bloodlust for adrenaline. it’s only baji, he’s just intense, they reason.

half-blood!takemichi, who leaps through time with the protective blood of a phoenix coursing through his veins. half-blood!takemichi, whose blood aids him in resisting the beckon of death that pries at the empty body he habitually leaves behind and enables him to keep rising back to his feet no matter who knocks him down.

dybbuk!shinichiro, whose rage inhabits mikey’s body, only flaring to aid in crushing kazutora beneath his little brother’s fist. dybbuk!shinichiro, who plucks away at mikey’s sanity day in and day out, demanding for his death to be avenged. dybbuk!shinichiro, who is the reason that mikey can no longer set foot in his bike shop, because no matter how hard he tries, mikey can’t seem to shut out the eerie groaning of forgotten bikes as they rust away or the crackling squelch of metal colliding with bone that he’s positive he’s never heard before—so why is he hearing it now?

executioner!kazutora, who has no problem with the unjust slaughters that tyrant!kisaki approves, because his unchecked guilt can only be satiated by “cleansing the kingdom of immoral souls.” executioner!kazutora, who hums a crude tavern song as he takes his sweet time lining up his blade with the neck of the shivering woman hunched before him—the shivering woman whose only crime is swiping some bread to feed her starving family. executioner!kazutora, who only finds retribution in the twisted cycle of playing the role of god’s “divine” axe.

knight!toman forming a wall in front of their king to square off against an approaching army, a measly one hundred men with fire in their eyes and swords dripping with blood—a measly one hundred men fully prepared to offer up their lives to protect king!mikey.

jester!hanma, who flirts with the women of the court and openly takes cheap shots at tyrant!kisaki, regardless of whether or not he’s in the vicinity. still, it doesn’t matter how humorous the joke is. no one dares to allow even a twitch of their lips. how hanma hasn’t been executed yet, they don’t know.

pirate!nahoya, who cackles like a madman and jeers at an opposing ship from his place perched atop the crow’s nest

apothecary!souya meeting his future s/o in a field of lavender while he’s searching for fresh herbs. apothecary!souya, who’s mortified by the chalky powder spattered on his overalls and runs a hand through his hair, accidentally smearing a yellow dust through his blue curls. apothecary!souya, who blushes when you kindly offer to brush the powder from his hair. apothecary!souya, who offers you one of the dandelions peeking from his pocket as a gesture of gratitude.

ladies-in-waiting!emma and hina scurrying off to deliver empty dishes to cook!mitsuya, who leans forward expectantly to hear the latest gossip when they approach him with sparkling eyes and poorly concealed smiles.

adviser!draken storming into king!mikey’s private chambers without an invitation to shout at him for neglecting his duties and drag him by the ankle out of bed

sorceress!hina enchanting a four-leaf clover necklace with a spell to keep knight!takemichi safe in battle

spymaster!sanzu scaring the shit out of his scribe!s/o whenever he pops up in the windows of the library in all black with no prior warning

doll-maker!izana, who lives in a secluded area of the woods with his apprentice kakucho and obsessively lines his shelves with replicas of the older brother he wishes he had

knight-in-training!chifuyu working extra hard to impress knight!baji, who had recruited him and taken him under his wing

steampunk inventor!chifuyu, who’s never seen without his trademark goggles that kazutora always pokes fun at and threadbare overalls splattered with oil stains. inventor!chifuyu, who nearly has a heart attack when baji hobbles in on one leg, grinning at him with a face swollen with bruises while waving his detached prosthetic leg in greeting. inventor!chifuyu, who keeps wrenches on his belt specifically to hurl at his idiot friends whenever they come into his shop all beat-up with their bronze prosthetics severely damaged

steampunk!hanma, who has a glass eye with the word “pain” engraved on the iris. steampunk!hanma, who asks kisaki to hold something for him. when the latter holds his hand out with an exasperated sigh, hanma sets his replacement eye in his palm and cackles hysterically when kisaki promptly jolts with disgust and chucks it across the room

cyberpunk!sanzu, who’s already inebriated but continues to drown deeper in the neon lights of the club as he pops an array of glowing pills into his mouth, body numb to the robotic assistants that hum around him and intermingle with the equally delirious crowd in case someone were to collapse from overdosing

masquerade!mitsuya, who smiles at you with such kindness and respect as he guides you onto the marble floor that you immediately resolve to discover his identity at a later date

masquerade!kakucho, who does everything in his power to prevent you from uncovering his identity. masquerade!kakucho, who fears that you’ll be disgusted with his deformed appearance once you see his scar.

samurai!yuzuha, who rescues you from a band of thieves but is perplexed when you insist on repaying her goodwill. samurai!yuzuha, who eventually starts coming to you whenever she needs her wounds bandaged or a home-cooked meal. samurai!yuzuha, who refuses to let you touch her sword with your pure, unsullied hands.

potion-maker!ran, who always despises when rindou barges into his workspace for nothing else than to tip over a couple jars and poke fun at his craft. potion-maker!ran, whose skin and hair have been permanently imprinted with the scent of clove and allspice berries. potion-maker!ran, who concocts love spells and perfumes that grant increased intimacy for the lovesick women who visit him when their own assets aren’t working. potion-maker!ran, who smiles charmingly and calls his female customers “darling.” potion-maker!ran, who has no problem with allowing them to test his products on him in order to guarantee their potency—but only if they’re attractive and have a pretty penny to spare :)

gunslinger!mikey, who almost shoots his big toe off trying to impress the beautiful barmaid across the room

servant!baji, who isn’t the slyest but always makes sure he leaves out a saucer of cream for the stray cats that wander through the town during the night, regardless of how much trouble he gets in. servant!baji, who develops a forbidden bond with his royal!s/o due to their shared love of animals. servant!baji, who is ignorant of the ways of courtship but does his best to flirt with you, however flustered and awkward he may be. servant!baji, who sheepishly seeks advice from his mother about how to impress royalty despite him being unable to offer you any material items.

necromancer!takemichi who doesn’t know wtf is going on and is literally only a necromancer because he fucked up reading a recipe for garlic bread that was written in cursive

vampire!kokonoi, who looks wistfully upon his collection of dusty, old perfume bottles as he recalls how they’d been the most expensive items on the market centuries ago. vampire!kokonoi, who possesses splintered, wooden chests overflowing with outdated currency that will never again be utilized. vampire!kokonoi, who sits for hours and stares at the photo of the young woman that he’s preserved in mint condition for countless years, wondering why he can’t remember who she is

half-blood!mikey, who wonders why his legs are so much stronger than the rest of his body, why he’s always been so much faster than his peers, and why they’re always chock-full of energy. half-blood!mikey, who’s blissfully unaware that the blood of his ancestors is not as it seems. half-blood!mikey, who has zero clue that his lineage marks him a descendant of the minotaur.

farmer!chifuyu, who’s too shy to approach the seamstress’s daughter, so he resigns himself to only admiring her from afar until she makes a move herself. farmer!chifuyu, who’s beyond embarrassed when he accidentally bumps into her, the dirt and grime on his clothing soiling her pristine outfit. farmer!chifuyu, who tries to brush it off, only to panic when the dust on his hands stains the fabric. farmer!chifuyu, who shows up at your mother’s shop the next day to apologize and is nearly chased out due to his kind “not belonging there,” only for you to object and invite him in, claiming that he’s your friend.

jack the ripper!sanzu, who leans up against a dirty brick building with his head low, tongue clicking in rhythm with the slim hands on his golden pocket watch as he decides on his next victim. jack the ripper!sanzu, who dons a simple, shapeless white mask that contrasts sharply with the elaborate feather woven into his top hat. jack the ripper!sanzu, whom others eye skeptically when he skillfully, easily slices his steak into cross-sections with nothing more than a butter knife. jack the ripper!sanzu, who smiles so charmingly at women, basking in their ignorance as he lures them into a sense of false security with a few sweet words. jack the ripper!sanzu, who seals all of his letters documenting his crimes with a lipstick-stained kiss and giggles manically when it smears onto his cheek. jack the ripper!sanzu, who is taken aback when one of his targets whirls on him with anger in their eyes and a knife gripped in their hands, fully prepared to give him a dose of his own medicine.

achilles!izana and patroclus!kakucho. that’s all i have to say. y’all know what’s up👀

soothsayer!takemichi, who’s looked down upon by his fellow prophets because of his frenetic efforts to change the future. while the rest lounge beneath the shade of trees, sweet-smelling smoke curling from their ornate pipes and hazy eyes trailing after people who they know are supposed to die tomorrow, takemichi is doing his best to track them down to warn them of their fate. “he’s just a boy,” the others chuckle, “he won’t make a difference.”

victorian era painter!s/o, who finds seishu inui snoozing beneath a tree and resolves to capture his beauty on a canvas. seishu, who’s well-aware of what you’re doing but decides to let you have your fun. painter s/o, who’s mortified when seishu happens to “wake up” as soon as they sigh with satisfaction and requests to see the picture.

barista!izana, who mixes drugs into his drinks for certain customers while they discreetly slide a handsome wad of cash across the counter

archer!chifuyu, who accidentally spears his superior through the leg while struggling with his bow. archer!chifuyu, who meets kazutora in the dungeons and befriends him during the one night he spends there. archer!chifuyu, who is confused and hesitant when he is abruptly assigned to join the ranks of the prince’s bodyguards. archer!chifuyu, who is white with shock when he sees kazutora stroll into the room, a golden crown balanced atop his head and a wide smile blooming upon his lips when he spots his new friend.

ROBIN HOOD!CHIFUYU

potion-maker!souya, whose face always softens whenever you stop by his shop during your daily mail delivery route. potion-maker!souya, who’s ashamed of himself for having considered exploiting your trust in him and slipping a love potion into your drink. potion-maker!souya, who always offers to make you something befitting the occasion whenever you’re running low on energy, not feeling well, or are nervous about something. potion-maker!souya, who’s too shy to confess his feelings for you.

town crier!nahoya, who sometimes slips a swear word or two into his announcements and prefers to storm the town on horseback, disregarding his elaborate attire. town crier!nahoya, who has definitely snatched you off the street during his routes, leaving you to cling to his sweat-dampened clothes and shout at him for being such an imbecile.

shapeshifter!nahoya, who diligently keeps his eyes closed because he can change everything about his appearance, except for his distinctive eye color.

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

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The Moon Spirit - two

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: blood, graphic descriptions of violence, objectification, gross old men, Dorian is a ball of love and niceness however, angst, fluff, possibly smut in later chapters

word count: 2.9k

a/n: oof the plans i have for this series omg!! i hope you like this pls comment and tell me what u think and also feel free to give any ideas/ theories i love getting that sm!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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Finding a place to get a drink was easier said than done.

You had ridden along the cold, barren road for hours – your only company being the birds singing above you, the horse moving below you and the small bundle of content wrapped in your arms who had fallen asleep in your arms in seconds, occasionally yawning widely. And through those hours you had met no one and seen no place to stop.

You eventually had to stop, exhaustion slowing you down. You moved off course and tied your horse to a tree next to a small stream, running a comforting hand through its mane as it drank slowly. You slowly stripped off as well, taking your time as you removed the blood-soaked layers from your skin. Once you were bare, shivering in the cool morning air, you stepped slowly into the stream – swearing enough to make a sailor blush.

However, you relented, running your hands over your skin, wiping away the guards’ blood with a heavy heart as the water turned pink. Your whole body ached, yet you were numb. Men were dead because of you, and - if he hadn’t already – Dorian would hear of your disappearance soon. And then the king would pick him a new bride, and you would be forgotten.

Just as intended.

Amaris was mewling behind you, hungry and cold, wondering why you had left. Or maybe that was just you, maybe you were projecting. You climbed out of the water, pulling your undergarments back on as you found a sunny patch to sit in, allowing the newly risen sun to cleanse away the remnants of the night, drying your skin slowly.

After half an hour of silent tears you picked yourself back up, pulling on your stiff clothes and climbing onto your horse as you set off again. You couldn’t just lie down and die, no matter how much you wanted to, you had to look after your last gift from Dorian, and you had look after yourself.

You ended up riding for hours more before you wandered into a small town. Dismounting, you led your horse through the town as you searched for a place to get food and maybe clean clothes, glaring down your nose at anyone who stared to long. Much like Dorian used to.

No. You tried to expel the thought of him from your head, not needing to be swept up in the thought of his forget-me-not eyes, nor did you need to remember that you may never get to look into them again.

What you needed was the tavern you could see at the end of the street.

You pushed through the street, ignoring the townspeople as you moved to the stables beside the tavern, giving your horse rest, food, and water. You hid Amaris in your coat as you moved into the tavern – back straight and head high as you walked.

The bar quietened down when you moved in, a small sprout woman pausing handing out drinks as she stared at you over a high skew nose. The bar smelt of sour whisky and piss, the surfaces barely visible beneath the dirt that covered every surface – the only source of light coming from tall candles that had been stuffed into wine bottles. The curtains over the windows were drawn tight, not allowing any other light in and the people in the bar all looked remarkably similar, tired. The woman behind the bar was petite, with a face alike a weasel and when she spoke you discovered her voice was just as shrill as you expected.

“And who do you think you are?” she moved in front of the bar, walking towards you as you levelled your gaze.

“I’m no one.” You replied, the answer vague enough that she hopefully wouldn’t try again.

“Then what do you want?” she was exasperated as she spoke, and you allowed yourself a moment of reprise as you glanced down at your clothes.

“A drink would be nice,” your voice was curt, tired. The small lady rolled her eyes, moving away as you approached the bar, allowing her to pour you a glass of cheap, hard liquor.

She slid it towards you, and you knocked it back quickly. “Do you also have fresh clothes and maybe some food for me and my cat?”

As she left with an eye roll, a man approached you, his hairline receding and breath fowl as he slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning far too close for your comfort as you trained your eyes forward.

“I can offer you a job,” he nodded his head and you looked over to see his eyes trained on the prostitutes in the corner, “I’ll even offer a free trial. To get you started.”

You felt panic rise like bile in your throat, your entire body tensing as you shoved this man’s arm of your shoulder. You calmed your face – unwilling to let any emotion show as you faced him.

“You couldn’t afford me,” you snarled, pushing down the heat growing in you as the curious eyes of the towns’ folk were once again turned on you.

“You bitch!” the man began shouting but was cut off by the shrill woman’s return. She unceremoniously dumped a pile of clothes in your lap, along with a small loaf and some fish, her gaze expectant.

You loosened the bracelet around your wrist, dropping it into her hand as she stared at the large jewels adorning it.

“That should cover it.” you muttered as you stood, keeping your gaze angry and forward as you shouldered past the burly man. You bundled the clothing and food in one hand, the other still holding Amaris tight to your chest as you left the dirty tavern.

You found your horse again, offloading the goods you had received into the worn satchels on its side – leading it out of the barn slowly, desperate to get out of this town.

Dorian was a mess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could barely speak anymore. It was enough to lose you, but to then realise that his own father had driven you away. His own father had made you feel so unsafe in your own home that you couldn’t even run to him, his father had made you feel so completely isolated that your only choice was to flee.

Chaol was trying to coax him back into civilised life, his brother mourning the loss of his friend, yet itching to find you. And level-headed as always, Chaol knew that wouldn’t happen with Dorian spending his days drinking or in bed – often both.

But Dorian didn’t know how to cope, he didn’t know how to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was okay. That was your specialty.

Almost a month had passed, and you certainly were nowhere to be seen. You weren’t coming home anytime soon and he was going to have to learn how to live without you eventually.

Every morning he woke up, a part of him hoped it was a bad dream, that you would be asleep in his arms, or giggling and pressing dizzying kisses into his jaw. He hoped one day he would just wake up and you would wrap your arms tight around his shoulders, tell him it was just a nightmare and stroke his hair until he fell back asleep.

But he knew that couldn’t happen, that life wasn’t kind enough to return his bride to him and so instead he chose to numb his thoughts. He ignored the flirty eyes of other woman, unable to look at them in their expensive dresses and jewels without his mind returning to you.

Everyday that passed without you hurt that much more, so when he sat on his throne as Chaol approached him with a beautiful but deadly woman, he decided since he couldn’t have his perfect woman, he must find her opposite. He couldn’t be who he was before – so he must become someone new.

You weren’t faring much better. The day you had left the bar, you had ridden all the way to the coast of Terrasan and had climbed onto the first boat to Doranelle. By the time you arrived in the city you had just about sold anything of value on your person and all you had left to sell was the poor horse you had taken away.

By the time it was just you and Amaris, you had acquired a small flat in the city – the walls were bare and there was only simple furniture in it, the mattress on the floor next to large windows, and worn cushions on a makeshift sofa next to a wooden table.

Every night Amaris crawled into bed next to you, licking away salty tears from your face as you pulled the thin, scratchy sheet closer over you – hoping to replicate even a shred of Dorian’s warmth, or the feeling of his arms wrapped secure around your waist. Most nights you didn’t sleep, the bags growing under your eyes as your heart slowly numbed. Amaris would bury himself in the warmth of your chest as your eyes blurred, watching the city move outside of your flat – the noise subdued and calming.

On the third day in the new city you set out to find work, desperate to find something that could numb the thoughts in your mind and make the days easier. Plus you were sick of grabbing the easiest food you could find. You found yourself walking to a library, deciding it would be the perfect mixture of solitude and work for you. And it helped that you had spent most your life reading, many nights curled under Dorians arms as you read your separate books – occasionally reciting a line to the other.

The old man at the front of the library was kind, his face wrinkled from easy smiles, and you could understand why his long, long life seemed so pleasing. The bookshelves were tall, dizzyingly tall, and filled with countless books that you wished you could search through for hours. There were also tall, stained windows lining the walls, letting in the beautiful morning light and showing how the dust danced around the room.

“So what brings you here?” he asked, moving around the desk he sat at and motioning for you to take a seat on the small, cushioned seats next to him.

You sat down gently, back straight but keeping your eyes trained on your neatly folded hands. “I need work, sir. I have very good qualifications and have been educated by the best.”

He laughed slightly at that, “That much is clear, my child. But I asked what brings you here? What is your story?”

You looked up to meet his eyes, unable to stop the pain that they revealed, and he took your hands gently in his warm ones, “The world has treated you poorly I see.”

You felt tears build in your eyes – this kindness so alien to your battered heart you couldn’t help yourself as you let out a soft sob. The man smiled kindly at you, squeezing your hands gently as he urged you to talk to him.

“I was f-forced to leave the man I loved,” you choked out, “his father tried to… hurt me.” Your explanation was an over-simplification, but you feared what may occur if you revealed the truth.

“Was he your mate?” the man asked kindly, and you shook your head.

“I am not Fae,” you explained, and he frowned, passing you his handkerchief as he stood.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, retrieving a small, hand-held mirror, and handing it to you. You took it with a confused expression before looking in, gasping under your breath as you saw your ears had taken on a delicate point.

“I, I don’t- that’s not possible.” You shook your head, eyes wide as they met his.

“Where do you come from child?” he voice was gentle as he took in your shock.

“Adarlan.” You whispered and he smiled sympathetically.

“Then I believe a glamour has been removed recently.” You could feel yourself shaking, the weight of the knowledge hitting you. “Let me take a name dear, you can start work tomorrow, we’ve been needing some extra hands around here.”

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” your voice was small as you stood, shaking his hand lightly. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem and remember when you work you can have a read through any book you like. Aisle sixteen contains many on the ancient spirits.” He looked down to your necklace pointedly and you bit your tongue so hard you tasted blood, desperate to not reveal any more than you already had.

“Thank you…” you trailed off and he smiled,

“Albert,” he finished for you. “And make sure to take care on your way home, this city is filled with powerful people, you would be smart to not mix with them.”

You nodded, pocketing the information in your mind, ready to add it to your list of rules.

Fenrys was tired. He had just gotten home from a month-long mission and all he wanted was to sleep, however he wasn’t quite ready to face Maeve yet and instead he decided to take a trip to his favourite library before she realised he was back.

He was walking in when he saw you, your eyes red but hopeful and he almost fell over at the sight of you. You were wearing common clothes but held yourself like royalty, head high and gaze ready to tear down a man who so much as looked at you wrong.

What he did next he wasn’t exactly proud of, but he needed an excuse, so he was willing to play his hand a bit. “Excuse me miss, do you happen to know where I could find the tilted goose?” your eyes widened when you saw him, fuelling his ego slightly.

He knew where the tilted goose was of course, it was one of his favourite bars, but you didn’t have to know that.

“Oh yeah, it’s just down this way. I’m walking that way I’ll show you,” your voice was like music to his ears, and he smiled, revelling in how you avoided his gaze, clearly intimidated by his stature.

“Thank you so much…?” he asked, and you smiled, softly, subdued.

“(y/n),” you stared walking in the correct direction, and he grinned.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Fenrys.” He placed a hand to his chest as you laughed lightly.

“Quite a flirt aren’t you?” you asked, eyes sparkling.

“Can’t help myself, I’m not sure I’ve ever met such a beautiful woman.” He looked down to you as he fell into step beside you, noticing that you were taking a much longer way than needed. “You new here?”

“How’d you tell?” your tone was self-deprecating, and he laughed.

“This way takes about five minutes longer.” He stated and you whirled around, pointing a finger accusingly.

“You know how to get there.” He felt his face heat up as he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Maybe…” he grinned, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you began to storm off.

“See you around princess!” he called after you, almost missing the way your shoulders stiffened momentarily before you called over your shoulder.

“You’d be so lucky!” you replied, pace quickening as he watched you climb a set of stars that led to some run-down apartments.

He laughed, the smiled on his face coming naturally and surprising him. Oh his life was about to get much better.

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the pretty man’s company. And you hated yourself for it.

But he was so kind and for five minutes he made you feel normal again, loved again. See you around princess! The words wouldn’t stop replaying in you head. You weren’t allowed to be a normal girl; you were a princess, and you were on the run, and you definitely had no time for handsome men who flirted with you.

You couldn’t betray Dorian like that, he was probably waiting for you to come home. And you planned to. You would build your strength and you would learn to fight, and you would tear the king to shreds.

But for now, you had to settle for getting through each day, and that meant you had no time for handsome distractions. As you steeled your nerves you felt the loneliness settle on your shoulders, wrapping around you like a shadow, and you fought to reach deep inside yourself, finding the sliver of magic that was curled up – dormant – inside of you.

You found it and fought to awaken it, only receiving a shard of the true power. You stood in front of the dirty mirror in your bathroom, taking in your newly pointed ears and watching as your necklace glowed gently, your eyes turning silver as you released a small amount magic, watching as the bright light shattered the mirror in front of you.

Your eyes widened at the loud noise and with a flinch the magic was gone, the only proof it was even there was the shattered mirror in front of you.

You stared back at the cracked reflection and squared your shoulders. You were going to train, you were going to fight, and you were going to win. Even if it broke you.

#throne of glass #dorian havilliard #dorian x reader #dorian havilliard x reader #fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys moonbeam x reader

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years

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Welcome to Faerieland - Fan Fic (last chapters)

Here we go! Last chapters of Welcome to Faerieland.

Link to full story on AO3 here.

*****

Dru and Ash landed a mile or so away from their destination, in order to avoid drawing attention to the location. As soon as their feet touched the ground, the two rocs turned around and disappeared above the treetops.

“I can walk,” Dru said and Ash offered his arm to steady her while she limped toward the general direction of the cottage. She knew it pretty well, it had sort of become a Blackthorns’ country home.

“So how do you know this place?”

“My eldest brother is dating the King of the Unseelie Court, and that’s where they meet sometimes.”

Ash whistled.

“One of your brothers is King Kieran’s lover? I think I heard about him.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty serious, although they won’t ever be able to be official about it. I guess you know what the rules are about faerie royalty’s consorts?”

“I do,” he averted his gaze and brushed a hand through his hair, in what seemed to be a nervous gesture. Dru realized it was the first time Ash had looked uncomfortable about a subject.

“A lot of rules need to be changed,” he said abruptly. “Don’t you agree?” His green eyes bore into her as he said it, as if he was desperate for her approval.

“Well, King Kieran has already been carrying out a lot of changes since he came to power. It’s just that… sometimes, it takes time. You can’t change the world overnight.”

Ash kicked a pebble. “You could, if you didn’t insist on everything being consensual. Maybe King Kieran cares too much about what people think of him... or, you know, in general.” He shrugged but there was a predatory glint in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before, and it almost made her cringe.

“You know, Ash, if what you are looking for in a sovereign is arbitrary decisions and a bitchy attitude, we have the Seelie Queen for that.”

She had expected Ash to laugh, his free, careless laugh - God, she loved it when he did that - but he seemed lost in thought.

She had to admit she had been a bit harsh. She knew the Seelie and Unseelie Courts were in much better terms now that King Arawn was dead. The Queen had appointed the Unseelie Prince Adaon as her most trusted advisor and the two of them and King Kieran met regularly to reinforce the bonds and cooperation between both realms.

Dru started humming a song and Ash paused, his green eyes widening. “Are you singing… Royals ?”

“Yeah, I love that song. Do you know it?”

“I do,” he answered, suppressing a smile.

As they walked, she sang louder - she knew the lyrics by heart - and he watched her with glittering eyes, clearly entertained.

“And we'll never be royals It don't run in our blood That kind of luxe just ain't for us We crave a different kind of buzz Let me be your ruler You can call me queen bee”

“Maybe I will,” he whispered in her ear as he tickled her, and she elbowed him playfully.

He sang along with her then - he had a beautiful tenor voice - both of them throwing their heads back at the same time to howl at the sky “And baby, I'll rule - I’ll rule, I’ll rule, I’ll rule” , like a pair of wolves. They roared with laughter, Dru holding her ribs and leaning against Ash for support. Watching him from the corner of her eye, she marvelled at the fact that she had found a new friend in such a short time.

At the Academy, people either feared her because she was a Blackthorn or wanted to be friends with her simply for that same reason. Or both. She was almost a celebrity, despite herself. Only because of her last name and her eldest brothers’ hand in ending the Cold Peace in the most spectacular way. And of course, there were always the loud-mouthed bigots and moralists who were baffled by the Blackthorns’ ties with the Fair Folk and their so-called “sexual and moral depravity”. The Rosales, of course, suffered the same criticism, and Jaime had always been a comforting shoulder and reliable friend to Dru in those moments where she felt she had had too much to deal with.

She didn’t want to worry Julian, Emma, Mark or even Helen with her troubles making friends at the Academy.

She couldn’t confide in Ty, because he didn’t care at all what people thought, and was content with sticking to his close friends, Livvy and Anush. His teachers, especially Ragnor Fell and Catarina Loss were absolute fans - even if Fell would never admit it - and everyone at the Scholomance was too impressed by his obvious academic superiority - and maybe, the Carpathian lynx tailing him - to dare bother him anyway.

Ash seemed to be far away from all of this, as if he had been living as a hermit in a remote tower, which was probably close to the truth.

He was the only one outside her siblings, with the exception of Jaime of course, to treat her like an ordinary girl.

And maybe, maybe someday Ash could become more than a friend. He was nice, definitely fun, absolutely gorgeous and he had kissed her after all, even though she knew it could be meaningless where faeries were concerned. She had been waiting for Jaime to figure things out for so long, and Ash had appeared out of nowhere and had shown interest without a moment’s hesitation.

She was interrupted in her thoughts as a broad-shouldered silhouette falling from the sky dropped on the ground before them. Dru released Ash’s arm to clap both her hands on her mouth, relief washing over her. Kit, looking as angelic as ever with his bright blue eyes and tousled blond hair, fluttered his white wings tipped with gold as he advanced gleefully to greet Dru.

The reunion was cut short as he was suddenly thrown back by a figure shooting straight into him like a cannonball and from one moment to the next, Kit disappeared into a ball of black and white feathers, rolling on the grass.

It took Dru a moment to realize that Ash had disappeared from her side and that he was actually the one who had attacked Kit. She ran to separate them but soon they were shooting up, caught in a wrestling match a few feet above ground, moving so swiftly they were a blur.

Dru let out a heavy sigh before she put two fingers between her lips and whistled as loud as she could. The two figures froze - they were still grappling each other - and looked down.

“ASH! KIT! Both of you. Get down here! NOW.”

They both looked at each other.

“ASH! What the hell is wrong with you, this is my brother’s boyfriend !” Dru continued, gesturing frantically toward Kit.

Ash released Kit first, grudgingly, and they both landed softly on the floor. There was a long gash across Ash’s cheek but he was grinning like the Cheshire cat, his eyes glittering in excitement. He winked at Dru as he wiped blood from his mouth. Kit was rearranging his hair, looking pissed, and Dru realized that his knuckles were bloody and that there was a small cut on his eyebrow. Both of them seemed otherwise unharmed.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Batman ?” Kit said, glaring at Ash.

“Sorry,” Ash replied, wiping dirt from his shirt. “I took you for a psychopathic jerk who nearly killed me a few years ago. He literally kicked me and my uncle out of the place we used to live in. You look exactly like him.”

“Well, it can’t have been me since last night was the first time I ever saw you,” Kit replied sharply, wiping his bloody knuckles over his shirt.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I figured that out pretty fast. You fight like a pussy compared to him.”

“Want to say that again?” Kit lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Boys, could you please stop comparing the sizes of your dicks, so we can move on?”

Ash and Kit complied, arguing over which Batman movie was best the entire way, until the cottage came into view, a few feet away. The door opened and Jaime came out of it, running toward them.

“Dru,” he cried out. He caught up to her, and threw his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She lost herself in his familiar and comforting scent and pressed her cheek against his torso. “Mi corazón,” he whispered softly. "We were worried sick. Cómo estás?”

Jaime brushed his hands through Dru’s hair and planted a kiss on her forehead.

She swiftly pulled back, her eyes darting to where Ash was leaning against a tree, talking to Kit, his arms crossed. He was smiling indulgently at her, as if he didn’t mind.

“I am fine, thanks to Ash,” she said, and pulled Jaime over to where Ash and Kit were standing. “Jaime, this is Ash. Ash, this is Jaime,” she introduced, waving her hand awkwardly between the two of them.

“Thank you for taking care of our precious Dru,” Jaime said, extending his hand. “We owe you one.”

“No hay de qué!” Ash replied, shaking his hand.

“Hablas español?” Jaime asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Solo a hombres con un excelente gusto en mujeres.” He gave Jaime a wicked grin and looked pointedly at Dru. Jaime’s face fell.

A high-pitched shriek had them whip their heads up in time to see a majestic roc land on the ground, a few feet away. Ty hopped gracefully from the giant bird and walked immediately to Dru. He was pale - even more so than usual - with deep dark circles under his gray eyes, and Dru marvelled at how gorgeous her brother was anyway, whatever state he was in. She sometimes wished she had inherited the same stunningly sharp features. Without a word, Ty knelt in front of Dru and started inspecting her wound.

“Ash, this is my brother Ty,” Dru announced proudly.

Ash started to extend his hand but Dru shook her head at him. He let it fall by his side.

“Ty, this is Ash.”

Tiberius nodded without lifting his gaze.

“Who tended to the wound?”

“I did,” Ash answered.

Ty finally stood - and Dru realized Ash was almost as tall as Ty, which was saying something, since Ty was very tall - and glanced at Ash for the first time, his gray eyes looking down under his long eyelashes and not lifting up from a spot on Ash’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said curtly.

Hesitantly, Ty put his arms around Dru in one of the rare hugs he had ever granted her. It was awkward and short, but Dru knew it meant Ty had been truly terrified of losing her.

After they released each other, Ty whirled and started walking toward the cottage. He paused after a few steps and glanced over his shoulder. The four of them had just been standing there, staring at him. “Are you coming?”

They all hurried after Ty, Dru having one arm around Ash’s, and the other around Jaime’s.

“So, tell me. Are all your brothers this handsome?” Ash asked her, as he looked Ty up and down appreciatively.

“EXCUSE ME? “ Kit interjected. His whole face had gone bright red in an instant and he started cracking his bloody knuckles. He looked poised for a second round.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” Ash did not seem in the least bit concerned by Kit’s reaction.

“It’s my boyfriend you are talking about.”

“And I just said I found him attractive. Is that in any way offensive?”

Dru laughed. “No,” she said. “I am sure you were simply stating your opinion and not trying to steal Kit’s boyfriend.”

“I am not trying to steal anyone’s lover,” Ash concurred, gazing wistfully at Dru. ”I just admire beauty when I see it”.

“But he would definitely be up for sex if Ty wanted to,” Jaime muttered sarcastically under his breath.

Ash shot him a puzzled look. “Of course, I would. Why not? Kit would be welcome as well, the more the merrier.”

Kit opened his mouth but seemed too much in a shock for a witty comeback. That was a first.

Oddly enough, Dru realized she didn’t feel jealous or baffled by Ash’s statement. He was like an untamed bird breaking out of a cage, unwilling to bend to any rules of propriety. She guessed part of it was due to his fey heritage.

“Mark is the Unseelie King’s lover, the Seelie Queen keeps trying to get into Julian’s pants and now you two,” Jaime said eventually, looking over at Ty and Dru. “What is it with the Blackthorns and the Fair Folk anyway?”

“Probably the exact same thing there is with Blackthorns and any other species,” Ash said evenly.

Everyone turned a questioning look at him.

“They are hot,” he said simply, and shrugged.

Everyone laughed at that.

*****

They were all starving so they decided to have breakfast in the cottage before heading back home.

Kit, wearing an apron that had "Doughnut sandwiches are a proper meal” printed on it (and that probably belonged to Mark Blackthorn), was in the kitchen, scrambling a huge portion of eggs in a large pan with a wooden spoon. He somehow managed to make it look totally hot.

“Eggs?” Ty asked Kit as he came to stand next to him and put a hand on the small of Kit’s back.

“Yeah, I would have cooked pancakes, but we are missing a few ingredients to do that. So it will be eggs. Eggs and fruits. God knows there are plenty of fruits here.”

“You know how to cook pancakes?” Ty asked, his gray eyes widening in surprise.

Kit shot him a shy glance.

“Yeah, I… I asked Julian for his recipe. You know, in case one day I needed to cook for you…r family.”

Kit and Ty both exchanged a look that was so intimate, Jaime had to glance away. He found Ash leaning casually against the fridge, his arms crossed, and gazing at him with a smirk on his face. He looked like he owned the place and hadn’t just popped uninvited into the home of strangers. When Jaime raised a questioning eyebrow at him, Ash unfolded his arms to draw the shape of a heart in the air in front of him. Jaime rolled his eyes. He definitely didn’t like this guy.

They set the table, while Dru was in the bedroom looking for clothes.

Kit and Ty sat next to each other, their fingers intertwined under the table and their backs to the kitchen counter, which left Ash to sit across from Ty and Jaime to sit across from Kit. They had left a spot at the head of the table for Drusilla, who would have Ash on her left and Ty on her right when she came back.

Ty only had fruits on his plate, and he was eyeing Kit gulping his eggs down, as if he was reconsidering having some himself.

“Want to try?” Ash brought his fork to Ty, who flinched as if he had been stabbed.

Kit grabbed Ash’s wrist and pushed the fork away from Ty.

“Ty can use my fork if he wants to try it. He is my boyfriend, after all.”

Ash shrugged. “Yeah, no worries, I think I got that. You can tattoo it on your forehead, it will spare you from having to repeat it to every living soul you encounter on Earth.”

Ash glanced at Jaime, and said in a lower voice, directed only at him. “And it will keep other people from pining for someone they can’t have.”

“Excuse me?” Jaime turned to whisper in Ash’s ear. “What does it have to do with Dru and me?”

“I was not talking about Dru,” Ash whispered back.

They both jerked their heads up, as Dru swooped in from the bedroom then, wearing a beautiful red dress that Jaime remembered having seen on Cristina. It was much tighter on Dru, clinging to her curves and emphasizing her cleavage. Jaime swallowed. He couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on in his head.

Ash immediately stood to draw Dru’s chair and she nodded by way of thanking him. She sat on it as if it was a throne, her chin up.

Jaime glanced over at Ash, who seemed so free about his sexuality, and felt a pang of envy.

“So, what’s your deal, Ash?” Jaime blurted. Ash raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Are you…” Jaime cleared his throat. “Bixesual?”

A slow grin spread across Ash’s face. “We’ve just met and you’re already trying to fill your fact sheet about me and tick one of your little boxes?”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Jaime said, feeling uncomfortable.

“I know you didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I am not offended by your question,” Ash continued in a gentler voice. “It’s just that… not everyone can fit into little boxes.” He swiftly glanced at Ty when he said it. It was a flicker movement, but lynx-eyed Ty caught it immediately.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tiberius said. “I am definitely gay.” He slipped half a banana inside his mouth then, totally oblivious of the gesture. Kit and Ash weren’t though. Kit made a noise between a snort and a chuckle and spilled the water he was drinking through his nose and all over his shirt, while Ash almost fell off his chair roaring with laughter. Dru looked at the boys with motherly affection.

Jaime stood and hurried to the kitchen to get a towel to clean the mess. When he turned, Kit was already there, leaning against the kitchen counter, extending his hand and looking at Jaime with a genuine smile that lit up his gorgeous face.

“Thanks, Jaime,” he said, as he grabbed the towel and started padding his shirt with it. The planes of his muscles stood out and could be seen right through the wet fabric.

“No problem,” Jaime mumbled, feeling his heartbeat increasing inside his chest.

He averted his gaze, past Kit, to the table, where Ty and Dru had their heads bent together, caught in a deep conversation.

Ash was peering around Ty, watching Jaime with amusement. When he caught Jaime gazing back, he stuck his tongue inside his cheek, and started moving his fist back and forth in front of his mouth, miming a blowjob.

Jaime resisted the urge to flip him the finger.

****

When breakfast was over, Dru lay sprawled on a sofa, her leg propped on Jaime’s lap, and Ash was examining the sound system, so he could put music on.

Kit and Ty had disappeared. God only knew where.

“So, what was that demon attack in the middle of Faerie about?” Jaime asked.

“Ty has a theory. And you won’t like it,” Dru replied. “He believes the Unseelie prince who held us hostage has made an alliance with a Greater Demon… probably a Prince of Hell.”

Jaime tensed. If Ty believed this, it was very bad news indeed. “So why send an army of demons to attack an ally?”

Dru twirled a lock of her dark brown hair as she replied. “Two options. Either the Prince of Hell discovered that his ally had been exposed and wanted to silence him. Or… or we will soon be caught in the middle of an internal war between the Princes of Hell.”

“You mean… there might be more than one involved?”

“To quote Ty, evidence makes it more likely than not,” Dru replied, imitating her brother’s voice. Jaime felt dread wash over him.

He gently put Dru’s leg on an armrest and excused himself.

Sometimes, he felt so anxious it was all he could do not to curl up in a corner and wait for his chest pain and dizziness to fade. The mission he had carried out a few years back, where he had to stay hidden all the time, never staying in one place, had made him jumpy, poised for any threat. He didn’t want Dru to see that side of him. For her, he could only be the calm and reliable friend she was used to.

He decided to scout the rest of the cottage for an empty room. There was a corridor - leading to a bathroom? more bedrooms maybe? - on the left side of the main suite’s door.

He went through and just as he turned around a corner... stopped short.

Halfway down the corridor, Ty was leaning with his back against the wall and Kit had his hands propped on either side of him, trapping Ty in a cage of his arms… and they were kissing.

Jaime had never seen two men kissing before and he was surprised to see how tender and sweet it looked. Ty was running his long pale fingers in Kit’s blond hair while the other hand rested on the small of Kit’s back, half of it concealed under Kit’s waistband.

Kit was naked from the waist up and Jaime could see all the tanned muscles in his back contract as he deepened the kiss, eliciting soft moans from the Blackthorn boy.

They were beautiful together, two opposites inevitably drawn to each other, their bodies fitting perfectly like yin and yang.

Jaime felt his whole body react, with a familiar flutter around his stomach and heat rushing up his cheeks. He knew he should not be watching, but he couldn’t get himself to tear his gaze away.

Kit broke the kiss to trace the dark Marks swirling up Ty’s neck with the tip of his tongue. Ty’s gray eyes fluttered open and he caught sight of Jaime. His intense gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t even seem surprised or angry. He simply raised an eyebrow at Jaime as if to say Can I help you with something ?

Jaime hastily retreated to the living room.

He found Ash’s lean figure perched on the wide low table at the center of the room, dancing to the blasting sound of Beyoncé’s Single Ladies and singing along. “If you like it, you should have put a ring on it,” actually sounded very good in his velvety voice. He was twisting, hands on his hips, and throwing his legs up like a professional, while making dramatic faces at Dru, who was sprawled on the sofa, howling with laughter. As he brushed his lips with his finger, licking it and started caressing his torso while throwing his head back, shaking his beautiful silvery hair, he managed to make it look erotic and not ridiculous at all. Jaime had to admit… His moves were perfect, fluid, coordinated and he totally… pulled it off. Annoying jerk.

“Having fun without me?” Kit burst into the room - he was, fortunately, wearing a shirt this time - and immediately hopped on the table to join Ash and one could not imagine they had been wrestling less than an hour before.

When Dru caught Jaime watching them, she patted the spot on the sofa next to her and he moved to drop beside her, throwing his arm around her shoulders.

The music had changed to Rihanna’s S&M and Ash and Kit were dancing together as if they had rehearsed for hours, their dance steps coordinated and smooth. They looked like two lifelong best buddies who could guess each other’s moves. They were pulsing with energy, although obviously neither of them had slept the previous night. Ash made a show of licking Kit’s cheek, and Kit pushed him away, grimacing. When Ash arched his back to rub his buttocks against Kit’s crotch and Kit spanked him, Dru wiped tears from her eyes. Jaime imagined what it would be like to go to a nightclub with the both of them. They would most likely steal the show.

As if on cue, the next song was… Stole the show, by Kygo. As they danced close together in perfect synchrony, Jaime noticed for the first time the similarities between Ash and Kit. Though Ash was all pale, white blond hair and alabaster skin, and Kit was all golden hair and tanned muscles, there was something about their facial features, the planes of their cheeks, the lines of their jaws… They did not look like brothers, but they could easily pass for cousins.

Jaime grabbed a Hot Shadowhunters calendar that had been left on the side table and started flipping through the pages. Looking at the January page featuring Jace Herondale, he wondered why everyone said Kit was like a mini Jace when Jaime could clearly see there was a difference, now that Kit had grown into more adult features. At least to Jaime, Kit’s fey heritage was plain.

When the music changed to Charlie Puth’s Marvin Gaye, Jaime turned his head to find Ty leaning against the kitchen counter and watching the two dancers with a bemused expression, his arms crossed over his chest.

He eventually caught Kit’s eye, lifted a questioning eyebrow, and jerked his head toward the bedroom door. Kit stumbled from the table in his hurry to join Ty and followed him out of the living room and through the main bedroom door, which shut behind them.

*****

Kit jumped on the huge threesome bed as soon as they were inside the bedroom. He felt exhilarated, full of adrenaline and restless energy, and he wanted Ty so much that he was certain he would spontaneously combust if they didn’t share their bodies within the next minute.

He shot Ty a smoldering look as he lounged on the thick mattress, twisting his shoulders seductively while singing along to Charlie Puth’s Marvin Gaye, which was blasting through the thin walls.

“We got this king-size to ourselves Don't have to share with no one else Don't keep your secrets to yourself It's Kama Sutra show and tell, yeah”

Ty had folded his arms against his chest and was shaking his head, as if he didn’t know what to make of this misbehaving boy.

“Kit, you interrupted me earlier when I was trying to have a serious conversation. Will you please let me finish this time?”

"I'm in trouble." Kit continued, clapping a hand over his mouth in a dramatic oops gesture. "But I'd love to be in trouble with you."

Ty rolled his eyes. He didn’t seem ready to play along with Kit, so Kit finally stood and grabbed Ty's upper arms, forcing him to back up until he had him pinned against the wall. He started wiggling his hips, rubbing against Ty, his body swaying to the music.

“You've got to give it up to me I'm screaming, "Mercy, mercy, please!" Just like they say it in the song Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on.”

Kit slipped a hand under Ty’s waistband, straight into his boxer shorts, and whispered “Hello there” as he brushed his lips against Ty’s ear.

“Kit…” Ty said sharply, as a warning, though Kit could hear his breathing was uneven.

“Ty,” Kit replied with all the seriousness he could muster. “When I saw you riding that Shinigami demon carrying a crossbow, I was so turned on it was all I could do not to jump your bones there and then.”

Ty laughed softly. “It appears you have a kink involving me wielding dangerous weapons. Maybe I should bring a claymore to bed next time and threaten you with it.”

“Honey, you know that, as far as I am concerned, you carry the deadliest weapon around with you at all times,” Kit started stroking Ty’s length as if to illustrate his point. It hardened under his touch. Good, we’re heading somewhere. "I was talking about your brain of course," Kit added.

“Kit, listen to me.” Ty grabbed Kit’s wrist and pulled it out of his pants. Kit groaned. “Haven’t you noticed anything strange about Ash?”

That caught Kit’s attention. He had not expected Ash to be the subject of their conversation. He had actually hoped to avoid any kind of conversation altogether. For a little while at least.

“Well, I noticed he is an amazing fighter and dancer. I am totally up for challenging him again, either in a training room or on a dancefloor.” There was something about Ash and him fighting and dancing together, a raw yet steady energy, not like the restlessness and all consuming love he felt around Ty, but something grounding him, making him even more focused. As if he had found a kindred warrior spirit.

“He probably has no effect on you, but… I think spells have been worked on him to render him… likeable. People are inevitably drawn to him, want to protect and follow him.”

Kit swallowed, suddenly deadly serious. “Does this… work on you?”

“No. And I have several theories about that. First… Well, I am a bit different. My brain doesn’t work the same way others’ do. Second, the Blackthorns have a bit of Greater Demon blood, even if it is quite diluted. I do believe Dru genuinely likes him.”

“You mean from your ancestor Lucie Herondale?”

Ty nodded. “And the third and most important explanation is… you. You have my full loyalty.” He rested his forehead against Kit’s. “There is no way in hell I am following him, when I could follow you. ”

Kit brushed his lips over Ty’s.

“What about Jaime? He seems to dislike Ash.”

“I am still trying to figure this out. But it may be one of the reasons I am immune to it, myself.”

“What? You think the Rosales have Greater Demon blood as well?”

“Maybe. But that’s not what I was referring to.”

They were both interrupted when they heard voices raising in the living room. Jaime’s voice was the loudest. And he sounded totally pissed.

Ty hurried toward the door, and Kit followed.

****

As soon as Kit and Ty had disappeared behind the bedroom door, Ash jumped over Dru and Jaime’s heads to land behind the sofa and stole the Hot Shadowhunters calendar from Jaime’s hands. “Hey!” Jaime cried out.

Ash circled back and dropped himself next to Dru, which left her crammed between him and Jaime. As he flipped to the first page, the January page, Ash froze. He was gaping at the picture of Jace Herondale, as if he could not quite believe his eyes.

Falling for Jace Herondale, already? What a surprise.

But oddly, Ash didn’t smile or make a sarcastic comment, as Jaime would have expected. He had a sorrowful expression and a faraway look.

“This is Jace Herondale,” Dru said softly. “Surely, even you have heard of him ?”

Ash swallowed. “Yeah,” he said absently. “Yeah, I have. He looks… happy.”

“Well, of course, he is happy. He has it all, hasn’t he?” Jaime said. “War hero. Married to the love of his life. The Consul as faithful parabatai.” Ash flinched, as if each word was a needle to his skin.

“Ash, is everything okay?”

Ash shook his head as if to clear it.

“Yeah, yeah, I was just thinking about… the butterfly effect. How a single human being’s existence… or absence, can change the course of things… can change the whole world.”

Where the hell did that come from? Jaime wondered.

Ash lifted his gaze to stare at the door where Kit and Ty had disappeared. “Take Kit for instance. Who knew it would only take a hot boyfriend to turn a ruthless, bloodthirsty ruler into a harmless kitten.”

“Er- Ash, I am not sure I am following you,” Dru said gently. “What do you mean?”

Ash let out a heavy sigh and slumped back, crossing his long arms behind his head, the Hot Shadowhunters calendar left at the January page on his lap.

“Nothing, I am rambling.” It looked like he was lost in his thoughts again.

Jaime seized the opportunity to whisper in Dru’s ear. “Dru, can we find some place private to… talk?”

Dru gazed at him with a puzzled look on her face. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

Jaime didn’t get a chance to answer as the entrance door rattled at that moment and they both whipped their heads in the direction of the noise.

The door opened and Mark Blackthorn, all tousled blond hair, pointy ears and flushed cheeks, erupted inside the cottage, wearing ragged jeans and a white shirt with a message that stated, “All good things come in threes”. He paused, as if he didn’t really expect to see so many people in his living room.

Jaime immediately withdrew his arm from Dru’s shoulders and stood, but soon registered that Mark was not looking at him… He was staring at Ash who had, from one moment to the next, leapt on the table in front of them and was crouched on top of it, ready to pounce, a dangerous glint in his ice green eyes. He had moved to protect Dru from a potential threat, Jaime realized. And there was no trace of the Ash that had been goofing around with Kit a moment before. The feeling that he had been played like a fool until then hit Jaime like a freight train. They had all fallen for Ash’s laid-back, good guy act. In one instant, Ash had revealed his true, predatory nature…

“Mark!” Dru waved from the sofa, unfazed. “You already know Jaime of course and this is Ash,” she introduced. “Ash… this is my brother Mark.”

Ash relaxed from his stance and leapt off the table, flashing a bright smile and wearing his cool guy mask back on. As if he hadn’t been ready to rip Mark’s throat a second before. The abrupt change in Ash's behaviour almost gave Jaime a whiplash.

“Have we… met before?” Mark asked, looking at Ash with his brows furrowed as he closed the door.

“In any event, I wish to be properly introduced,” Ash said, evading the question. “I am Dru’s boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” Dru interjected at the same time Jaime exclaimed “WHAT?”

Ash shrugged. “I thought our make out session had settled it.”

Jaime felt heat rush up his face. He whirled on Dru. “We’ve known each other for three years and you’ve known this guy for what? Less than twelve hours? And you’ve already kissed him?”

“To be fair, I am the one who kissed her ,” Ash said in a calm voice. “She didn’t tell me to stop, though.” He paused, his long fingers stroking his delicate chin as he pondered. “Then again, how could she have, what with my tongue being down her throat and all?”

“Ash, don’t intervene,” Dru said, her already white complexion growing paler by the second. “This is not between us.”

“Really?” Ash answered in a fake shocked expression. “I could have sworn it was my tongue down your throat.”

“What’s going on here?” Ty asked as he came out of the bedroom, followed by Kit.

“GREAT!” Jaime said. “That’s just my luck! We’re just missing Julian and…”

“And?” Julian asked, his tall broad-shouldered figure appearing in the entrance. He froze in the doorway, hand on the doorknob, his face a mask of shock as his blue-green eyes swept across the room.

“... And all my worst nightmares are reunited in the same room. OK, let’s be done with it.”

Jaime took a deep breath and caught each of the Blackthorn brothers’ gaze, one after the other.

“I. FANCY. DRU. OKAY? I like her. I know she’s sixteen, but we are good together and I want her to be my girlfriend.”

*Cough* “ Too late.” *Cough* That was Ash. Dru turned to glare at him.

“Well, that’s not even relevant anymore, is it? Since apparently… She prefers Legolas, here.” Jaime continued, waving his hand toward Ash.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? I don’t even look like him.”

“Lego-who?” Ty asked, puzzled.

“He’s talking about Ash. Don’t worry honey, I’ll explain,” Kit said, speaking for the first time.

“And what the hell are you doing here?” Julian asked, turning toward Kit, a flicker of panic crossing his features.

“He just came out of the bedroom with Ty,” Mark said.

Kit lifted both his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t having sex with him,” he blurted. “I mean… not this time.” His face went red. “I mean- I am out of here. If anyone’s looking for me, I’m in the bedroom.” He whirled and paused in front of the bedroom door, his hand on the knob. “Not having sex with anyone...” he specified before he disappeared behind it.

Julian heaved a sigh and turned his gaze back to Ash.

Ash gulped. He looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, his green eyes wide.

“This is not the end of it. But first things first. Can anyone tell me what the hell Ash Morgenstern is doing here?”

They had barely registered the question, when a sharp cry from behind Julian had them all jump. A slender figure peered around him, red hair like flames flowing over a green velvet dress embroidered with gold. Jaime had seen enough drawings and pictures of her to recognize her instantly. The Seelie Queen.

She pushed Julian aside and ran to Ash, throwing her thin pale arms around him and burying her face in his chest, the golden circlet around her head tipping to the side as she did. “Where were you last night? I came to the house, and it was empty . I have been looking for you everywhere since!”

Dru was staring at Ash open-mouthed. He shot her an apologetic look.

“Mom, let me introduce you to Dru. Dru…” Ash cleared his throat. “Meet my mom.”

*****

Tagging @gabtapia ❤️ Hope you'll enjoy it and, of course, don't hesitate to correct my spanish ;)

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years

Note

Could you do a fic where Jude gets amnesia and Cardan has to take care of her? (In elfhame and none of the people known what sickness she has lol). Please make it angsty and fluffy at the same time sjsjjsjs. Thank you so much if you do this! 💗

Ofc, love! I wrote this like, five times and just before I reached the end, I'd delete it so I'm quite proud for finishing at all.

Full Masterlist

cry me a river . . .

I wake up in an unfamiliar room, far too extravagant for my taste.

I grunt, momentarily blinded by the light seeping inside the chamber from the window before someone pulls it closed. The tall, lean figure comes over to sit at my bedside, touching the back of his hand on my forehead as if he is checking for fever. His hand feels warm against my skin and I almost whine when his touch disappears. Black dots swim across my vision and I have to blink a few times before I recognise the person sitting beside me.

Cardan Greenbriar.

If he has ever looked worse before, I cannot remember it.

Tear streaks run down his painted cheeks, glitter smeared all over. His coal black eyes, swollen and red, are fixed on me. I have the strangest feeling that I have seen this sight before, even though I have no recollection of seeing him so vulnerable. It is not something so small that I'd forget.

Did he find out I killed Valerian? That would explain the tears.

Perhaps he wants to finish what his friend started. It seems unlikely that he'd know but I can't think of another reason Cardan would abduct me and risk Madoc's wrath. It has to be the reason—

"Jude? How do you feel?" he asks.

He looks at me like I'm the most precious thing in his world. It scares me more than his hatred ever could.

"Stop," I choke out, stomach sinking more in fear with each passing second. "Tell me what—how am I here? If Madoc finds out you've been hiding me here, the consequences won't be pretty." I don't have to worry about him lying, because no lie can escape his tongue. I know faeries don't need the ability of lying to deceive someone.

Cardan frowns at me. "Liliver found you wounded across the clearing. You went to run an errand, got hurt and collapsed near the palace." I know what the words mean individually, but put together in one sentence, they don't make sense to me, which puts me further out of ease.

"Liliver?" The name tugs at my memory but I can't remember it.

He looks wildly concerned now. "The Bomb, Jude. She found you," he tells me before someone knocks on the door.

The Bomb.

Liliver is probably her true name; or part of it, at least. I wonder how Cardan knows it. I remember her as a part of Dain's court of shadows. The tiny, delicate girl slips inside the room when neither of them answer. Liliver holds a steaming bowl of soup in her hand, which elicits a series of rumbles from my empty stomach. I try to remember when I last ate and the moments from the previous night come crashing down on me: the horrible coronation, Locke's behaviour, her dance with Cardan and their peculiar conversation, then finally the butchering of almost all of the Greenbriar family.

I remembered running away with Cardan, hiding him in the court of shadows and the kiss we'd shared, my blade pressed against his throat. The implication that he liked me and he hated it. Surely, my present condition couldn't have something to do with it?

No, it couldn't have.

"How are you out of the office?" I turn to Liliver, who raises an eyebrow at me. "Who let him out? He is my prisoner, and you shouldn't have decided when he leaves." They exchange confused glances with each other.

Cardan furrows his eyebrows. "Leave? Jude, love, is this some kind of test?"

Balekin and Madoc planned against Dain and he is dead and the protection he'd given me could be over now. Cardan could glamour me into believing anything he wanted to. For all I know, he already has. I shove the panic down, resolved to find out more. If he had glamoured me, I'd be doing whatever he asked with blind devotion.

I ask the first of my questions. "Does Madoc know that I'm here?"

Both of them exchange worried looks. Liliver places a hand on my shoulder and says softly, "Jude, Madoc is in exile in the mortal world. He knows you're in the palace, of course, and we informed Vivienne you hurt yourself on a mission—she's probably on her way—so he also knows you're hurt, I think." My head swims. I can't wrap my head around all the information.

I blurt out the thing that shocks me most. "Madoc was exiled?!" Maybe everyone found out about his plot against the crown—

The doors to the bedroom are thrown open and there's commotion outside. I hear a voice I recognise well and Vivienne enters the bedroom, fuming and covered in sweat. She is panting, out of breath as she comes over to my side, discreetly pushing Cardan back. I am grateful for the familiarity but I cannot help but wonder if this is some elaborate game Cardan is playing, if it's really my elder sister or a product of faerie magic.

Vivi sits by my side, looking offended. "Do you have to face up all the dangers in the world alone, Jude?" Liliver observes me with a curious look. However, it is not her gaze that unnerves me but his. It sends shivers down my spine and I pretend I do not notice it. Vivienne is still talking to me, "honestly, would it kill you to share some load with your husband, Jude?"

I blink. "My husband? What—"

"Jude," The Bomb interrupts, "what is the last thing you remember?"

I am confused and scared and unsure if I should tell her. But she is from the court of shadows and I trust Vivienne. Cardan's presence is unsettling but there is no hint of cruelty and neither of them seem disturbed by his presence. So I tell them. "It was the coronation, Balekin—he killed Eldred and Dain is dead and Cardan and I escaped together and I took him prisoner." A blush rises to my cheeks when I realise what happened next, despite all my hatred for the youngest faerie prince—no, not the youngest. I recall my conversation with Oriana, Taryn's betrayal, Locke's lies and Madoc's plan. "Oak is the next in line for the throne, he's—Dain's child." No one looks surprised at the news, not even Vivi.

Cardan says with deliberate slowness, "Jude, you mean you don't remember anything after the day? Do you remember the arrangement we made?"

"What arrangement?" I don't know what he's talking about. It puts me at a disadvantage against him.

Cardan brings his hand close to me, as if he expects me to shatter. I do not shatter but I do flinch away from his touch. He looks like he wishes I'd struck him instead, blinking rapidly. For a moment, I swear those are tears in his eyes before they disappear.

"Jude," Vivienne says, breaking the silence, "I think there's something you should know."

⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷

I listen in horror and fascination and barely supressed surprise as Vivienne narrates the tale to me. Cardan sits beside her, pitching in with details she doesn't know whenever the situation demands it. I grow more and more certain that this is something strange I have dreamed up with every word my sister utters.

It makes the perfect sense—my plan against Balekin and Cardan's role in it.

I remember thinking along those lines when I went to sleep that night, the only question being how I could secure Oak's throne. To be his seneschal but have the High King of Elfhame under my command—the thought alone is enough to make me heady with power but it grows worse as Vivienne reaches the part where Cardan asks me to marry him. I can tell they both tiptoed around what happened in the Undersea, Vivienne because she does not know what happened in there but the uncertainty in Cardan's eyes leaves me with no doubt that he knows what happened there. Perhaps I told him.

It is surprising that I am able to read him so easily, and the ease with which he talks to me implies he is comfortable around me. I keep looking for some hint of cruelty and rage and anger but he is all love and adoration and concern.

Vivienne reaches the part where Cardan turns into a serpent and I'm convinced this is some prank of theirs. Even in faerie, that sounds ridiculous.

But they can't lie, so when my apparent husband says, "It was hell, Jude. I didn't talk about it but it haunted my dreams. You told me it haunted yours too."

"I did?" It doesn't sound like me. "What—how did you come back?"

He looks at me, and his eyes shine with love and sincerity. "You brought me back. Madoc offered you a golden bridle to control the serpent but you chose to end it's life, even though keeping it as your slave would have made you an unchallenged queen of faerie."

Why? The words don't leave my mouth but sensing the question, Liliver answers. "Because you loved him, Jude, you chose to free him. You chose his peace above power, not knowing if he'd come back—"

"—but then he did," I finish for her. "I slayed the serpent and he came back?"

They all nod. I am surprised to hear the details, that the Undersea came to our aid. But it was out of love for Cardan that Nicasia allied with us. They recollect the aftermath to me, Madoc's exile and some of the events after.

Vivienne leaves to fetch me some water and mortal soup for quick healing. Liliver excuses herself soon after. When I look at him, there are tears in Cardan's eyes again, flooding down his cheeks. He makes no effort to hide them now.

"Why are you crying?" I ask, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

He shakes his head at me. "You forgot all the good parts, Jude. Without the good parts, I'm just a monster who gave you every reason to hate me."

"I don't hate you." The truth behind those words surprises me.

Even after all I've been told, the fact that I fell in love with Cardan Greenbriar is the one that makes the most and the least sense both at once.

"I—I need to be alone." Cardan's face morphs into one of hurt, and I feel the need to soothe it: "It's just—I need time to wrap my head around this."

He nods, "Take all the time you need."

Then he lifts an unsure hand, reluctant, and wipes a tear away from my face. I hadn't realised I was crying until now. He turns to walk away, his tail curled around his calf.

I say, "I'm sorry I lost all our memories."

"It's okay. We'll make new ones," he promises in a firm tone. And for a brief moment, I see what he talked about.

I see myself in love with him, so in love that I was prepared to sacrifice ambition for a small chance to have him back. I see us living together, teasing and taunting and completely in love with each other, ruling Elfhame side by side. I feel his phantom touch on my body from the night I danced with him at the coronation ball, before everything started—before our story began.

And even when the moment passes, I realise I can love him still, all over again.

⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷

I know I say it after every fic but this one was hard so even if it's bad, I'm proud of it. I tried writing from the first person pov, so what do you guys prefer? This or the usual third person limited?

tags:

@courtofjurdan // @thesirenwashere // @nightbringer // @queenofgreenbriar // @jurdanhell // @sweetlyvillainous // @clockworkgraystairs // @blog-lady-vi // @the-dark-swan //@storiesandschemes // @fangirltrash74 // @augustintodarkness // @jurdan7 //@queen-of-glass // @aesthetics-11 // @mijaldraws // @hades-flame // @sensitivehighlord // @annejulianneh111 // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @doingmyrainbow // @curlyredqueen06 // @chaotic-fae-queen // @thewickedkings // @thesurielships //@df3ndyr // @clouds-and-peonies // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @thefolkofthefic // @st00pid231 // @iminsanenotobsessed

#the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #tfota #tfota fanfic #tfota fanfiction #jurdan #jude x cardan #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #holly black #jurdan angst #jurdan fluff #jurdannet #jurdan fanfiction #Jurdan fanfic

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years

Text

Aes Sídhe (Finan x Reader) Part 2

Here is part 2! Yay! Huge thank you to everyone who liked/commented/reblogged part 1. Y’all are the best!

Also, prepare yourselves. I’m rewatching The Last Kingdom so there will be more TLK fanfics from me!

As always, can be read as reader or OFC.

Warnings: None

Words:1600

Tags: @happyveday @lauwrite1225 @geekandbooknerd

Part 1

The sounds and stench of Wintanceaster were both familiar and abhorrent. Finan did not mind the city but dear God and all His saints did it take some adjustment after being in the fresh air of the road and smaller villages.

He leaned against a table, a cup of ale in hand and foot propped up against the bench across from him. The group relaxed outside of the alehouse. Uhtred was catching up with Father Beocca, Osferth listening intently. Clapa and Sihtric were both drinking silently like Finan, listening in to the conversation and latest news. They had spent the last three months traveling to different burhs and spending minimal time in Coccham. Now they awaited their new orders from King Alfred.

Abruptly, Finan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Someone was watching him. He knew that feeling. Subtly, he tried to scan those around. A few other patrons were drinking and talking at other tables. A man pulled a cart with a young boy by his side. A pair of priests, their large crosses dangled from their necks and bounced against their chests as they walked. A couple soldiers, a few women with baskets on their hips, some chicken and dogs scurrying around. Nothing unusual. Nothing to warrant this feeling. Yet he could not let it go.

He shifted, lifting the cup to his lips once again. A loud bang drew his attention in the blacksmith's direction. His eyes lazily drifted that way just to satisfy his curious, not expecting much.

Then he saw her.

He almost dropped his cup in his shock.

She stood next to a building across from the alehouse. Her forest green dress was partially hidden by a brown cape with the hood up, leaving only her face exposed. A basket was held in her arms. That face and eyes, he would recognize anywhere. They haunted both his waking and sleeping hours. She was just as mesmerizing as last he saw her.

And she was staring at him.

"Oi." Finan smacked Sihtric's arm, making the Dane grunt and turn around. "You see her. Green dress, brown cape with a basket."

"Yes...she is pretty. Do you know her?"

Knowing she was not an illusion, someone else confirmed her appearance, he refused to let her escape him this time. He drained the rest of his ale quickly, practically throwing the cup back on the table in his haste. As he drank, she had started to walk away, her back turned to him. Like a hound having caught a scent, he followed. None too gently, he pushed those in his way, eyes refusing to abandon her form for fear of losing her in the mingling crowd.

"Wait, aes sídhe!" He easily caught up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. His breath stuck in his throat when she turned to face him. Up close she was even more radiant. The next words tumbled out of his mouth as he stood awestruck. "Ya are real."

She giggled and he could feel his heart leap at the delightful sound. Slowly she pushed her hood back. "Of course, my lord."

"Oh, I'm no lord, my lady."

"Well, I am no lady."

"What does that make us?" He teased, still in awe. She was here. She was truly real. Over the past three months he had begun to doubt but the small strip of white cloth he kept was the only thing to prove otherwise.

She shrugged, glancing around a moment before meeting his gaze once again. "Whoever we want to be?"

They stood smiling at each other, in a bubble of their own making as people walked past them, like a rock that the stream forced to flow around. Everything faded away until the whole world just consisted of the two of them.

"Why did ya run? Last time."

"You startled me…" she softly said, blushing, "...and I was in my undergarment. It would not be appropriate to hold a conversation thusly."

He laughed, eyes crinkling. Oh, he very much remembered her standing there in the fading sunlight in her shift. Nothing would ever be as beautiful. But he doubted she wanted to hear that right now. "Aye, that makes a fair point. I am Finan."

She replied her name and it seared itself onto his soul. A permanent stain that he would cherish for eternity.

"I need to take these herbs to a friend," she gestured to her basket, eyes remorseful. "I promised to bring them over before dinner. I am sorry."

"May I escort you?" He blurted, not ready to leave her side.

"I would like that."

The pair walked side by side, shoulders brushing occasionally as they maneuvered the streets of Wintanceaster. At her insistence, Finan told her about himself, his lord Uhtred and their life in Coccham. His humorous stories of some of their exploits and shenanigans caused her to reach out and grab his arm so she could keep upright and walk amidst her laughing. He decided her laugh was his favorite sound in the world.

She spoke about how her family just moved to Wintanceaster from an outlying village close to Mercia's borders. Her father feared for their safety due to Dane raids, so they moved to the heart of Wessex. That was how they had stumbled upon one another at the creek. She had slipped away from her family and those traveling with to cleanse herself and be away from the chaos of the caravan. So far down the creek she had not expected to come across someone.

When she confessed there had been a small cave she had hidden herself in from him, he laughed and confessed he thought her a faerie and had vanished from sight.

"Is that what you called me?"

"Mmm? Oh? Aes sídhe."

"Does that mean a faerie?"

"In a way," he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I thought you were too beautiful to be real…"

She blushed and tucked some wayward strands of hair behind her ear. "You are too kind."

"Tis not kindness if its the truth."

Bumping her shoulder playfully against him, she smiled. "Tell me more stories."

So he did, as he followed her to a friend's house, whom she gave the herbs in her basket in exchange for some cloth. Then they started back the way they had come.

"...and that next mornin', we found my boots in the chicken coop with eggs laid in them. A terrible problem really, those hens thought I came to steal their eggs when I just wanted my boots back."

She giggled. "And the others?"

"Aye, Sihtric woke up that mornin' with a cookin' pot on his head and somehow Clapa's axes on the roof. Clapa had to boost Sihtric up, so he could retrieve them...only after they were both sober enough to stand up that is."

They both laughed at the story, and to Finan, it seemed like the sun shown just a little brighter with her by his side.

Up ahead he could see Uhtred and his men were still at the alehouse. For a moment he felt guilty about running with a word then shrugged it off. It was worth it.

She stopped just before the alehouse, him following suit. They stared at one another again, lost in the other's presence and soft smiles.

"I must return to my family. I am sure your lord is waiting for you."

"Can I see ya again?"

A moment of hesitation and it felt like his heart stopped beating. She looked down, biting her bottom lip. Before he could rescind the offer, she looked up smiling. "That would please me."

He let out a breath he had not realized he was holding. "Where are ya stayin'?"

"You'll have to find me. Use those warrior skills." She winked and took several steps back, still holding his gaze.

He was not having that. His feet overtook the ground forward as she moved back. "I could just follow ya now."

"That defeats the challenge then, does it not?"

He opened his mouth to respond, loving the mischievous gleam in her eyes, but was interrupted.

"FINAN!"

The Irishman glanced over his shoulder to see his friends watching him. Catching his eye, Uhtred jerked his head. Apparently, they were done waiting.

"They must miss you."

"Aye, I am not easily replaceable or forgettable."

"No...no, you are not." She took one step closer until their chests were almost touching. Swiftly, she placed a quick peck on his cheek and whispered in his ear. "There's an inn that has a painting of a blue flower on it." With that, she turned and walked away.

His feet remained frozen on those dirty streets, watching her walk down a side alley. As if feeling his lingering gaze, she turned and met his eyes. A smile and shake of her head at him then she turned back around and vanished from his sight.

Only then did he feel freed to move. A stupid grin on his face, and heart soaring above, he turned and moved back towards his friends.

"Who was that? She was very pretty." Uhtred raised an eyebrow, leaning against one of the tables.

"Do ya know of an inn with a blue flower on it?" He ignored Uhtred's questioning gaze.

Father Beocca answered with a confused look. "I do. It is behind the church. It is mostly used by wealthy traders or traveling priests."

Finan grunted, a plan forming in his mind.

"Who was she?"

He looked at his friend, usable to hold back the beaming smile. He clapped Uhtred's shoulder, looking back towards where she had disappeared just moments ago. "That, my lord, is my future wife."

#The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom fandom #the last kingdom fanfic #finan x reader #finan x ofc #finan the agile #finan the last kingdom #uhtred ragnarson #osferth #sihtric #father beocca #mz writes

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sunlightandsuffering · 3 years

Note

Omg high ranking vampire eren……. Someone insinuates he should let them try out Mikasa and Eren nearly strangles the man.

;DLSFKHJ MANS WOULD LOSE HIS MIND, SOMEONE'S THROAT IS GETTING SLIT!!! But like it's another high ranking vampire official and he asks Eren in front of everyone at one of the sexy after parties that occur after auctions so he can't just murder him on the spot but Eren is pissed. Mikasa is sitting on his lap, head tucked into his shoulder when he comes up. OKAY U KNOW WHAT I'M JUST GOING TO WRITE IT.

He hates these afterparties, they're irritating and a waste of time in his personal opinion. Hell, he doesn't even like the auctions, the only reason he shows up at all is because it's expected of him. It wouldn't be good for the recluse vampire noble to not even show up to auctions, people might start thinking he's a human sympathizer. Which he is of course, but only for one particular human, the one that's currently seated on his lap. Mikasa is as pretty as ever, legs thrown across his lap and over the side of the large cushioned chair he's inhabiting, the one that's basically a less ornate throne. Her head is tucked into his neck as she half dozes half pays attention to whatever garbage the weaker vampire in front of him is spewing.

He's paying no attention either, how could he when his lovely pet is dressed like that. She's wearing a long shimmery black dress with a deep v neckline that exposes her lovely breasts to his hungry eyes nicely. Otherwise, the dress looks to be quite tame, covering up all her important bits, which is irregular attire for these parties. The high slit that reaches all the way to her hip is the only thing amiss as he strokes a hand up her leg, exposing a generous amount of thigh to the lucky vampire in front of him. Whatever, he's feeling generous today. Might as well allow the few vampires wanting to speak to him a peak at his most prized possession.

The blonde vampire is droning on about a concern he has in the west district of the city where there's been a concerningly high number of faerie abductions lately but Eren doesn't care, why would he? Not his district, not his problem. He hums as he feels Mikasa startle awake, letting out a sleepy sigh into his neck before her head pulls away and her pretty grey eyes look up at him blearily.

The weak vampire in front of him, new to the vampire hierarchy, having just been given a district is asking for his help. He's begging and pleading, wanting to make a name for himself by having the great Eren Yeager offer his protections and services, his noble name to his cause of eradicating the fae from his district. But Eren does not give a singular fuck, far more interested in the pretty little thing in his lap that's looking around, squirming in his lap as she stretches. He grabs her chin and turns her face up and she looks back at him curiously, eyebrow arched. She never bothers him during official business, she knows better but right now he wants a kiss from his lovely little prize and she obliges as he leans down for a long slow kiss, his tongue tangling with her own and she lets out a little moan as his hand moves higher up the slit of her dress. He uses a sharp tooth to nibble at her full bottom lip just a little, drawing blood, just a quick taste of heaven as he licks it up eagerly. He'll never get over how good his pet tastes, she's his everything, he can never drink from anyone else but her now, blood bags are repulsive and even other women don't do it for him anymore. He pulls away just as the weaker vampire leaves after being ignored.

Eren settles Mikasa closer into his lap as he readies himself for the next audience, and it looks to be another noble who steps forward, a tall man with an interesting moustache, Mr. Berndhart if he can remember correctly? Eren labels him a total asshole immediately, he's probably similar to his father in terms of believing in outdated traditions and ridiculous customs and unfortunately for Eren, he can't just ignore a noble.

"Mr. Berndhart what can I do for you?"

He asks as he tucks Mikasa's pretty bare feet next to his thigh, wrapping his arm around her knees protectively and huddling her closer into his form.

He takes note of the very interested way Mr. Berndhart is watching Mikasa, like she's something to eat. And of course she is, but she's his something to eat and Eren doesn't share. He licks Mikasa's blood from his lips, making sure it's gone.

"Ahh Eren my boy, I'm sure you remember me, I am a friend of your father's." "Yes." he lies, why would he remember him, he's not worth remembering.

"Glad to hear it. You see I noticed you don't take part in the auctions very often, buying or selling your belongings and I was just wondering why?" Eren furrows his brow, he doesn't have any people to sell, that's why. He hadn't been interested in collecting humans the first hundred years of his life and nothing has changed now, the only item in his collection is Mikasa and it's widely known that Eren has no interest in adding any more.

"I have no desire to invest in any more humans for my collection, I have all I need right here." He places a kiss on the crown of Mikasa's head and she gives the room a sleepy smile, still quiet and docile, just what they expect of her. Never his fiery princess in front of guests, she knows better, she's his perfect girl, his favourite possession.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed Eren but I've become rather enamoured with your lovely human, Mikasa is it you call her? And I was wondering if I could perhaps interest you in a trade?" The man keeps speaking but Eren hears nothing out of his mouth after he suggests Eren should give him Mikasa. His Mikasa.

Said girl's ears perk up as she monitors the situation and she cuddles into Eren further, her lips coming to kiss along the line of his jaw and oh how perfect she is indeed, how much he loves her. Because instead of being concerned as most humans would be for their own wellbeing in this situation, worried about who they'll be sold off to, Mikasa has complete and total faith in him. Instead of freaking out, she's trying to soothe him, attempting to stop him from decimating the entire party in one go, fruitlessly trying to stop him from ending this pathetic vampire's life.

Because how dare he even suggest Eren would ever part with his beloved, his Mikasa, who's so good only for him, who's blood tastes so exquisite he can tolerate nothing else now, who's love he aches for. Eren's facial expression does not change as his hand resumes it's motion circling along her delicate milky thigh.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Mr. Berndhart, Mikasa is not up for sale."

"Please, she is so lovely I'd like only a taste, I'll give you as many humans as you want In return, twenty, thirty, you name it. She smells so delicious, and I'm afraid I'm a bit of a blood snob these days, the taste and the smell are of equal importance and never has blood been so fragrant."

Eren's eyes flash murderous green and it is only Mikasa's soft hand on his cheek that stops him from skinning the man alive right there.

"Mr. Berndhart I'll make this quick and I'll only say the once, Mikasa is mine," his voice comes out a growl, inhuman as his fangs grow, glinting sharply in the light, "And I will not be selling, trading or lending her out ever, so if you so much as look at her again, even smell her blood, I will hunt you down, skin you alive and bleed you out before I leave your corpse for the sun to melt away. Please leave before I lose my patience."

His father's friend leaves shaking, muttering things to himself as his fear takes root because Eren Yeager, although a reclusive troublemaker is well known in the vampire world for one thing and that is his infamous murderous rampages.

And that's exactly what happens the next morning while Mikasa sleeps peacefully in Eren's king sized bed and he methodically slaughters every vampire in Mr. Berndhart's house.

He comes back to bed in the wee hours of the morning smelling of blood and carnage but Mikasa couldn't care less, she's used to this life and she's Eren's most precious treasure, it's all part of the job. "Welcome back my love."

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booklover41802 · 4 years

Note

Could you do a Jurdan fanfic sequel where Cardan eventually wins back Jude’s love? The sequel to your Cardan finding Jude on a date and gets jealous fanfic?

Of course!! This was one of my favorite prompts to write. I absolutely love Jurdan with all my heart.

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Cardan

Day 1

With Jude’s return, Cardan had issued a revel be thrown in honor of their Queen. The folk had no objections, as they never passed up an opportunity to drink and party.

However, though his Jude had returned with him to Faerie, he had left bloodshed and heartbreak in his wake in his quest to bring her home. The consequences of his actions had not been worth what he had done to his love, who was his no longer.

Cardan studied Jude on the throne next to his, noting the blank stare, and rigidity in her limbs. One would almost think she was a statue if she didn’t blink from time to time. Cardan was worried this state of being was permanent. There was no fire, no wicked triumph flickering through her stance. A blank nothingness now sat where his lively Jude had once resided. “Jude, darling, would you like to dance?” He’d asked her many things before, and she hadn’t responded, but perhaps this time…

He leaned forward and rested his fingers under his chin in mild contemplation. Jude’s chest slowly inhaled and exhaled, her stare fixed straight ahead on the revel that celebrated without the two of them. The briefest dance of pain shot across her brown eyes before that too vanished and was replaced by a vacant expression that she so often donned.

Cardan should give her space, after all, she did lose her mortal love due to his own pride. If only he had just listened to her and explained himself. Even given her an egregious declaration of love, perhaps things would be different.

Then, just as he was about to resume his grumpy posture on the throne, she mechanically turned her head and whispered, “Not with you. Not again.” For a moment her hand came up and fingered the pearl necklace around her throat before once again facing the revel, as though she hadn’t just knocked the wind out of him.

Cardan didn’t quite know what to do. He was a terrible husband.

The revel shouted and danced and drank while he sunk further into his sorrows with each passing minute. Jude hated him, and he did not know how to live with that realization. A straggler stumbling past offered him a cup of wine, and he heartily gulped it down, hoping to drown out his thoughts.

Day 2

With a light knock, Cardan announced his arrival at Jude’s doors. She had been reinstated into her old chambers when she’d been seneschal, keeping the door locked at all times. The human heart was a fickle thing, yet he was sure it could be persuaded with an astounding declaration. Or was he the fool for not understanding the emotions of his love?

As if to spare him from his conflicting thoughts, the door slowly creaked open, revealing Jude within. Dark circles coated the underside of her red eyes, indicating she hadn’t slept one bit. Despite her appearance, however, she was dressed in a high neck onyx dress. Lace appliques adorned the bodice and the sleeves of the gown. The only thing she needed now was a veil, and she’d be complete for a funeral. “What do you want?” Her voice was low, cold.

He was not wanted here, that much he knew. He brought his hand up to his mouth and cleared his throat. “I wanted to invite you on a stroll about the castle. Doing so day after day by myself is quite lonesome, wouldn’t you agree?”

The response he received was a spark of fire lighting her features, her gaze burning through him. It was almost like a warning that if he stepped any closer to the flames, he’d get burned by the heat. “It’s almost as lonesome as spending your entire life alone, wouldn’t you agree? Without a lover, life seems a bit empty, yes?”

He wasn’t stupid enough to suggest that they were lovers, and she needn’t look any farther for such things. It was his fault she was in this state of mind. “Of course. Perhaps we could share a meal later together if you are not up for a walk.”

“Perhaps.” The door proceeded to shut in his face, no definite answer given to him. Cardan sank down to the floor and rested his head against the wooden paneling. He was pathetic. He could run Faerie just fine, but when it came to Jude, he was lost. Maybe it would just be better for him to sit and wait outside her room until they were to eat.

Just for a few minutes, he would wait. But he was awfully tired after getting no sleep last night. He would shut his eyes for a moment and then get back to work. A few minutes.... that’s all.

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He was startled awake when he seemed to fall backward for no apparent reason. The reason became clear as he lay on the floor of Jude’s room, the door clearly having been opened by her. Her mouth was open in an o shape, the most emotion he’d seen from her in days. He grinned ridiculously at her, causing the blank mask to once again fall into place. “You look beautiful,” he said, admiring the way the sun hit her eyes. They were a caramel glow against her smooth skin.

“So I’ve been told.”

Quickly he slid into a standing position, casually leaning against the doorframe, acting as though he hadn’t fallen asleep outside her door. He had no idea how long he’d been out, and he felt too embarrassed to ask. “My dearest, Jude, I beseech you to accompany me to the dining hall.” For good measure, he sinuously bowed, smirking at her beneath lowered brows.

She released her grip on the door and backed away a few steps. “It’s only two in the afternoon.”

“Ah...so it is.” This meant he had been sleeping for… four hours. Were his cheeks burning? He could feel a blush creeping up his face at the realization he’d fallen asleep outside his wife’s door for hours. What his advisors must think of the king who can’t stay away from his love.

“Were you waiting outside my door this entire time?”

His eyes darted around the room, not wanting to meet her fierce gaze. “No. I-I got a lot of work done today. I didn’t fall asleep outside your door, no.”

Her forehead creased as she looked at him in confusion. “I didn’t say you fell asleep… did you?”

He checked his wrist, exclaiming, “Oh, look at the time, I have important things to do you know! The High King has time for no one.” She still looked so utterly bewildered that he blurted out, “Except you, of course, I’ll always make time for you. Good night!” And with that, he bolted out the door, leaving a trail of embarrassment behind him. “Idiot,” he murmured under his breath.

He walked very fast to his room after that, to avoid another awkward encounter. He didn’t trust himself to spout coherent thoughts at the moment.

Day 7

One week since Jude had returned with him to Faerie, and she still wore nothing other than black and gray, the colors of mourning. Was she mourning for the life she could have had, or for the boy who offered her his heart? Cardan could never give her safety and security like the boy could. There was nothing similar between the two of them, and Cardan was quite jealous over that.

He cut into his food a bit more savagely. “Are you planning to scowl like that all evening, your majesty?” At the sound of Nicasia’s voice cutting through the hall, he whipped his head into the air. Why was she here? She was interrupting a wonderful meal between him and Jude, even though they were seated on opposite ends of the table, and Jude hadn’t responded to him once.

Nicasia’s strut through the wide, double doors radiated confidence, which is why Cardan was surprised when she practically fell on him. Her slim fingers roved against the fabric on his shoulders, inching her way up towards his face. “What are you doing here, Nicasia,” Cardan bit out, annoyed at her presence.

She pouted, her eyes glittering with disappointment. “Is that any way to greet an old friend, Cardan?” Cardan took a page out of Jude’s book and stared at her blankly. Nicasia rolled her eyes and elegantly dropped into the chair on his right-hand side. As if she was invited. As if she was wanted here. “I was tasked by the Undersea to bring the peace treaty.”

“Peace treaty?” He raised a brow, his gaze darting to Jude. The way she was looking at Nicasia, one would think she was trying to singe her where she sat. Was Jude… jealous?

Nicasia jabbered on and on, but Cardan was exhilarated by this thought. He couldn’t even focus on the conversation. He cut Nicasia off with a hand and rose to his feet. The legs of the chair scraped back menacingly in the silence that now echoed in the room. “Send the paperwork up to my chambers, I’ll sign what is necessary.” He ignored her sputters and threats, focusing on Jude.

Her face betrayed nothing, but Cardan was sure he didn’t mistake the look she had given Nicasia. He strode by her chair, letting his tail wrap around her arm that was under the table. She inhaled imperceptibly.

Cardan smirked as he exited the room.

Day 30

Though Cardan had signed a peace treaty with the Undersea kingdom, they still felt the need to declare an all-out war between land and sea if Jude wasn’t handed over to them. It seems as though Nicasia had whispered a few twisted statements to her mother. Both of the women believed they were entitled to Cardan’s right to rule. Humans can’t be the High Queen, Nicasia had sneered.

Cardan had brushed her off, but maybe he shouldn’t have. Things had been going so well with Jude, that he had ignored Nicasia’s attempts at flirting. All he seemed to make were mistakes these days.

He sighed as yet another hurricane swirled and churned just on the borders between their kingdoms. For days the Undersea had been taunting them all with thinly veiled threats. If by the end of the week, Jude still resided within the castle, their land would be destroyed. Queen Orlagh did not take well to a human queen on the throne.

Muttering under his breath, he shoved himself out of his chair and stalked out of his room to do something incredibly stupid.

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Cardan softly knocked on Jude’s door, waiting for the telltale sound of her feet pattering against the ground. When the door swung open, Cardan was surprised that she wasn’t wearing her mourning clothes anymore. Instead, she wore a royal blue tunic, and dark pants over soft, leather boots. The pearl necklace still lingered at her throat, though. She looked to him with expectant eyes. “Are you here because of what the Undersea is demanding?”

He fidgeted with his hand. The words were practically jumping off his lips, words he had kept silent for so long. “Yes I-”

“I’ll go. I’ll do what Queen Orlagh wants.”

Needless to say, Cardan didn’t expect that answer. “Actually, I was going to say that I was about to head to the shore to try and work things out without you there.”

She shook her mane of curly hair, her lips downturned. “I’m the reason Orlagh and Nicasia are threatening to turn Faerie into a landslide. It’s only fair I offer myself up.”

Cardan dared a step into her room, and when she didn’t object, he took another until they were close enough to kiss. But Cardan merely grasped her hands and held them in his own. “My darling, you are the light of my life, and I admire your courage, but you are not to face the Undersea again.” The way Jude had been after coming back from being in their clutches for a month was not something he wanted to relive. “I wanted to tell you something before I left.”

“What is it?”

He took a breath, preparing himself for rejection. “No matter what has happened between us these last few months, I love you more than the moon loves the sun, more than the stars love the sky. You are my one true love, and I never want you to believe otherwise.”

A shocked expression overtook her, her grip going slack. Cardan was sure this was a sign of rejection and quickly fled to the Undersea, where he planned to offer himself in her stead. It was the only way.

Day 31

After offering himself to Queen Orlagh and being laughed off, he had returned to the castle, dejected, but with a plan. He had requested the queen meet with him again for a different negotiation, and she had begrudgingly agreed. This time, he would bring Jude with him, but he was the High King of Elfhame. The land responded to him and his will. He would either bring down the entire Undersea or die trying.

If he died, it was of no consequence to him as long as his Jude was safe. As long as Jude made it out alive, his quest would be a success. She had slowly opened up to him as the weeks had passed. She now kept her door open for Cardan at all times.

As the pair of them exited the castle together, hand in hand, Cardan felt an exuberant burst of joy exploding in his heart. “What are you planning to offer the Undersea?” Jude asked, turning towards him, with an adorable scrunch to her forehead.

“What they desire the most.” Bloodshed.

“I know you tried to barter for yourself to be their prisoner instead of me. You know I can handle myself against them, I don’t need you to protect me against the world.”

He tried a grin and immediately felt it slide it off his face. Today wasn’t the day for side smirks and debauchery. “I am fully aware of what you are capable of, Jude. But do you not think for a second that I am protecting my heart? It may be cracked, and in shambles, yet you carry it. I do not want to lose it quite so soon.”

“Cardan-” Jude was cut off as the sandy border of the Undersea came into view. Queen Orlagh and Nicasia hovered just below the surface.

“How sweet, the faerie confessing his love to the mortal.” Nicasia sneered, snickering behind her hands.

“What have you come to offer us this time, Cardan, High King of Elfhame.” Orlagh ignored her daughter and examined Cardan with suspicion coating her features. It was clear that there was no trust between both parties.

Cardan released his hand from Jude’s, feeling the vibrations of the land, along with the sea. He took a breath and moved his hand through the air, drawing up his connection. It felt like a small tingling sensation at first, but gradually pinpricks of light punctured the air, drawn to his touch. His gaze landed on Nicasia who had drawn herself up out of the water, legs replacing her tail.

Cardan smirked and released the tension building up in his chest. Immediately Nicasia was pulled against a tree and held in a lover’s embrace by the branches. She shrieked and yelled for Orlagh. “I offer you your daughter unharmed if you do not concede to my rule. I do not wish to be a tyrant, but I will become one if you do not let my chain of succession be. I have chosen Jude, and you will not interfere with my affairs again.” To prove his point, the branches squeezed Nicasia tighter.

Torn between saving her successor, and winning this fight, Orlagh said, “You are not the green boy everyone says, your majesty. It seems you do have a skill set worth keeping an eye on. But,” she smiled, “Humans have no right to this land. That much I will never admit.”

“And you are not the mighty Queen everyone believes you to be. You are no more than a power-hungry creature who grapples for a position that is slipping out of your grasp.”

Jude took a small step forward. “Human I may be, but you were the arrogant one who did not deign to check if I was able to be glamoured. You are the reason I was banished in the first place. I accept your right to rule, as much as you accept mine.” Jude’s chin jutted out in a show of confidence. There was nothing but pure, unrelenting rage raging in the depths of her eyes. She wanted revenge and she was about to explode.

Orlagh glanced between the three of them and noticed how Jude’s hand curled into a fist. Noticed how the land began to respond to her movements. Noticed how a boulder was suddenly rocketing its way towards the tree where Nicasia was encased. “I concede! I accept your right to rule. Just give me back my daughter unharmed.”

Cardan and Jude smiled, grinning with their teeth. Nicasia was released, the branches of the tree slithering back to its normal position. The bounder stopped its descent inches from wreaking havoc upon the bark. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Orlagh’s jaw clenched. “Leave my daughter alone, and I will leave your… wife unharmed.”

“I would love nothing more.”

Nicasia stumbled back into the water, throwing reproachful looks our way.

But it mattered not to me, not as Jude looked at me, truly looked at me, and grinned. Her eyes softly shone, in a way that they hadn’t done in quite some time.

Day 65

Two months after Jude’s return and she no longer was the silent piece of marble she was when she first arrived back in Elfhame. The pair of them had shared the same bed for the first time in a long time. Her scent of citrus and oak trees imprinted itself into the sheets.

Nothing had happened last night, save for the intimacy of being close. Yet somehow they had ended up in each other’s arms sometime during the night. Her warmth seeped into his clothes, creating a bubble of security around the two of them. He ran a slow, steady hand through her thick mane of hair. Her lids remain firmly shut, but he could see her eyes rapidly moving. Carefully so not to disturb her, Cardan traced a light finger across her smooth skin.

He craved touch, and intimacy with her like he had never had with anyone before. He’d had lovers in the past, but with Jude, he wanted everything. He couldn’t contain his selfish desires, wanting her all to himself. He leaned forward and delicately pressed a kiss onto her forehead.

Before he could move away, she cracked open an eye and took him in. He didn’t dare move, not as she looked very intently into his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he breathed.

For a few moments, Jude didn’t say anything, as she took him in. Her eyes were still sleepy, and her lips upturned in a small smile. Cardan ran a hand across her bare arms, while she shivered, goosebumps rising across her flesh. “If I’m waking up next to you, I don’t mind being woken.”

Cardan was dumbstruck by how alluring her morning voice was. She was so unlike the sharp queen in moments of wakefulness. She was… gorgeous. Her sleep mussed hair, and… Cardan blushed as he realized she was wearing one of his shirts. He had passed out before her, so he didn’t know she had put it on. “You’re wearing my clothes,” he stammered out. He didn’t know how to react. His inner heart flared up with desire, as he realized what this meant. She was no longer keeping him at a distance. As if they were the most natural movements in the world, he shifted his weight so he was on top of her.

His arms wrapped around her middle, while his head nestled between her shoulder blades and neck. He hardly dared a breath, as Jude said, “I missed you, Cardan. Even when I hated you, I wanted you.” His breath caught in his throat, he wasn’t prepared for such an open and honest statement. “I’m yours, I always have been. Despite what occurred in the mortal world, my guilty heart still desires you.”

His tail wrapped around her ankle and pulled her closer as if she might disappear at any moment. “I beseech you to forgive me for all the wrongs I have committed in your name.”

“All is well, you were forgiven long ago. I feel immense guilt, but I can’t stay away from you any longer, Cardan. You almost sacrificed yourself me, how can I be angry with you when you would give up everything for me?”

He could feel her heartbeat thundering under her skin. “How could I not wish to give up everything, if it meant that you would be happy? My darling Jude, I desperately missed you. I was lost when you were away. You are the light that guides me through life. When you were angry with me, I did not know what to do. I will never make that mistake again.”

Her hand came up and brushed down the side of his face with reverence. “I did not like being angry with you, either. Let’s agree to never do such foolish things again.”

“Never again.”

In the silence that accompanied their shared bond, Jude sighed in content. “I love you, Cardan.”

Tears pricked Cardan’s eyes as he shifted a few inches. She really truly loved him, the monster that destroyed her life. His voice broke as he whispered, “I love you too, Jude. More than anything I ever have before.”

The High King and Queen of Elfhame stayed clutching one another, bonded by their love for one another, vowing to never part again.

Tags: @illyrian-bookworm, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @webcraft4eveh

#my writing #jurdan #jude durate #cardan greenbriar #tcp #twk #qon #the cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #ask #booklover41802 answers #thank you for the ask

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alarawriting · 4 years

Text

52 Project #2: Changeling

Inspired by this story. Also by a number of well-known myths, but the central concept comes from @magic-and-moonlit-wings‘s story.

This falls into the category I call “altered tales”, which are retellings of fairy and folk tales and myths that are... not quite canonical.

***

Surely you have heard a similar tale before, of the mother who went to the crossroads by the light of the moon, pulling a wagon and carrying her changeling babe, to demand the return of her own child.

By the light of the moon she went to the crossroads, and she called out that the Faeries had stolen a thing from her, and that she demanded to see the King of the Faeries about the matter. And then, in the moment of an eyeblink, the grove she stood beside was full of faeries, some flying, some in trees, some standing, and all were very, very beautiful, but some were very, very strange. The King was the most beautiful, looking far too young to be the ancient creature he was, with black and golden hair long and wild on his head, and pale skin, and endlessly deep black eyes. “You claim that Faeries have taken a thing from you, but we never take without giving fair recompense. Are you calling us dishonorable?”

“Whether you considered what you left me fair recompense or not, you never asked me if I wanted to make the trade,” the mother said, and presented the changeling child. “You left this child in the crib my husband and I built for our babe, the one I carried in my body and birthed from my loins, and never did you ask me if I would take this one in trade for the one I spent blood on to bring to the world. You made the trade without asking me if this was fair recompense, or if I was willing to trade at all.” Then she laid the changeling in its swaddling down in the wagon, and stared a challenge at the King.

The King scowled, for the mother knew the laws. Faeries are bound to trade fairly. They will cheat if they can and take what they can and they will lie and cast glamours to make an item of trade look to be of more worth than it is, but when summoned by one they have tried to cheat, one who knows their laws, they must make things right. “Very well, child of Eve, we will return to you your babe.”

A bassinette was brought forward with a sleeping babe within. The mother removed from under her skirts a small bag, and in the bag was a small bottle, and in the small bottle there was a tincture of silver. She uncorked the small bottle and tipped it back into her eye, in front of the Faerie Court, so they would all see that she would not be fooled by glamours. Then she looked upon the bassinette with the untouched eye closed. “Yes. I see clearly, this is my child.” She lifted the bassinette and placed it in the wagon. “You have returned what you took unfairly, so I will take my leave now,” she said, because you cannot thank Faeries. They consider it very rude.

“Wait,” the King said. Now he was glaring. “Do you think we deserve no fair recompense? Return to us what we paid you.”

The mother raised her eyebrows. “Paid me? You paid me nothing, for I made no trade. You gave me no recompense, for I never agreed to sell my child. Instead you gifted me a babe, without conditions, on the night you stole my own. Now both of them are my children.”

Storm clouds gathered over the grove as the Faeries chattered to each other about the insolence of the human woman. “You cannot have it both ways! Either the child we gave you was fair recompense in trade for your babe, or you want your child back and are bound to return ours!”

The mother’s eyes were very hard. “You threw your child away. You left your babe to a human woman, knowing that humans sometimes burn changelings with iron to tell if they are human or not, knowing that humans have burnt and drowned changeling children. You did not ask my permission, so you made no trade at all. You stole from me at the same time as you discarded something you considered worthless. If you throw your trash in my yard, it is mine. It’s not payment for stealing my hen’s eggs or my apples to give me trash you care nought for, without my permission or acquiescence to the trade.”

The changeling spoke in a trembling voice. “My lord, you told me I was banished to the human world, to play the role of a human child. You never said I was of value; you only meant to trick my new mother into thinking me to be her own babe.”

“You are my own babe, for the faeries abandoned you to me, and I adopted you,” the mother said. “That makes you my own, just as much as the one who came from my loins is my own. You will be sisters and twins together and you will both be mine.”

“You think to make demands of the Faerie King?” the King demanded. “Who do you think you are?”

“I am a mother, and a woman. No more and no less. And I will not leave this place without both of my children – the one you stole and the one you discarded.”

“I do not think you will,” the King said, and sneered. “For we do not interpret the law the same way as you do. By our interpretation, you are attempting to gain something for nothing.”

“For nothing?” the mother snapped. “I have fed this babe milk from my own breast. I have warmed her with blankets I wove myself, or the blankets my mother and grandmother wove for my birth, that they gave to me. I have paid for this discarded babe by caring for her when you did not.”

“But you have paid us nothing,” the King said.

“Why should I pay anything to one who steals from me and leaves something he believes worthless in trade for it?” She softened. “But, I can offer you a gift. Even though you discarded a babe you cared nothing for and thought to be garbage and left it in my home for me to care for, I find value in her, and I can give a gift to return value for what has worth to me, even if it had no worth to you when you threw it away.”

“What gift can you offer to Faeries?” The King stood, and the clouds above became thunderclouds, as his brows drew close with his anger.

“Each year, on this night, so long as I live and am hale and hearty enough to make the journey and to speak and tell, I will give you a story. If I am giving birth, or I am ill, or one of my children is and I must care for them, or if I am trapped away from home and cannot make the date, I will return within the month with three stories to pay for the delay. In exchange, I will take home the babe from my womb and the babe you left in my home, and you will trouble neither of them again.”

“I have a different thought,” the King said. “Why not a challenge, to determine which of us is right? We pick a contest, a champion of the Faeries against you, and if you win, you leave here with two babes, but if you lose, both shall stay with us, and you as well.”

“As the one who is being challenged, then, do I have the right to choose the contest?” the mother asked.

“Yes, of course you do.”

From within her skirts the mother drew a cast iron cooking pan. “Then I choose a contest of skill at cooking,” she said. “I have hen’s eggs in my right pocket, here, and I will build a fire and cook them, in this pan. Your champion will also cook eggs, in a pan, on a fire, without magic or glamour, else it would be no contest of cooking skill. Whichever of us cooks the most delicious eggs shall be the winner.”

Now the Faeries chattered in fear, and even the King drew back, for iron is inimical to Faeries, and if the mother used it as a weapon, she could harm or even kill the faeries in the grove. “No,” the King said. “No Faerie can touch an iron cooking pan as humans do.”

“Then you forfeit the challenge to me, and take my original offer, of the stories,” the mother said.

“Before we accept such an offer, let us hear one of your stories. We will judge whether they will be worth two children.”

“That is not what’s at stake,” the mother said. “You will judge whether they will be worth accepting my interpretation of your law, where a thing thrown away cannot be considered fair trade in any way for a thing stolen without permission.”

“Very well,” the King said. “Tell your story, and if we judge it of worth, we will accept your interpretation of the law and let you leave here with two babes.”

And so the mother told this story:

Surely you have heard a similar tale before, of a musician who descended to the Underworld to sing to the Devil and free a loved one.

It happened many years ago that a woman became well known as a troubadour throughout the kingdom, for her singing voice was beautiful beyond compare and she played the flute and the lyre so sweetly one would think her an Angel descended from heaven. But she was no angel. This woman with the beautiful voice and the wondrous skill at playing music was no better than she should be, and she lived the life of any troubadour – drinking, gambling the coin she earned with her music, and spending her nights in the beds of men, as she pleased.

As one would expect, in the fullness of time, she came to be with child. And while she tried to live up to a mother’s responsibilities, old habits are hard to break. No sooner was her babe weaned than she was back to her old ways. She loved her little daughter greatly, but she was not the sort of woman who was good at supervising a child. And so on the night before the little one was to take her first Confession and then Communion, the mother was drinking with her friends, and playing cards, and never noticed that her daughter had left their home to go down to the stream… until they found the girl’s body caught in the reeds and drowned, the next morning.

In grief the woman screamed, and tore at herself with her nails, for she knew that her daughter being old enough to take Communion, but not having had Confession yet, meant that she was old enough that while her original sins were washed away with her baptism, she had accumulated enough sin to go to Purgatory, rather than to Heaven with our Lord and Savior. Her daughter’s eternal soul would never know the glory of God, and it was her own fault.

So she conceived of a plan to go to Hell and bargain with the Devil for the return of her daughter.

What many priests do not tell you is that Purgatory is itself a ring of Hell, the uppermost one. It is the only ring one can be freed from. Prayers for the souls in Purgatory eventually lighten their burden of sin enough that they can go on to Heaven, but it can take hundreds of years, and the prayers of a holy woman are more valuable than the prayers of a woman who lives a life of vice and sin. The musician feared that her daughter would be damned to Purgatory for the length of her own life, or perhaps forever, with no one holy to pray for her. Instead, she would go to the Underworld, to Hell, and offer the Devil a bargain: she would sing and play for him if he would free her daughter.

It is not hard for a woman of loose virtue to find her way to Hell. More difficult when alive, perhaps, but not impossible. The musician brought her pipe and lute through the gates, where she was challenged by a ferocious hellhound with three heads, but she played a sweet lullaby and the dog calmed and went to sleep at her feet.

She found her way to the capital city of Hell, Dis, and presented herself to the court of Lucifer Morningstar, else called Satan, the Adversary of God.

“Why are you here, human woman?” Satan asked. “You’ll be here soon enough with the life you lead, but you’re still of the living, here and now. You don’t belong in Hell… yet.”

“I’ve come to sing for the return of my daughter,” the musician said.

Satan looked down on her, his face stern. “What makes you think you can win your daughter back? Death is final. You were careless and let her go to the stream unsupervised, and now your daughter is dead. What else did you expect?”

“I failed as a mother and I know that,” the musician said. “But I promise you, if you listen to me play, you won’t regret it. I’m the best musician on Earth.”

“I have all of the best musicians that ever were on Earth, before they died; are you so arrogant to think you are better than all of them?” Satan asked.

“Yes,” she said.

And then Satan laughed, for he loves the human sin of pride like none other. “Oh, very well! Entertain me,” he said.

And so she played. Now, I am no musician nor even a singer, to try to replicate her song, so I will just tell you what she sang. She sang a song of the Virgin Mary holding her baby Son, weeping because the angels had told her what His future held, in her dreams, and the love she felt for her Baby overwhelming her and bringing her to the depths of grief, crying out against a God who could be so cruel as to sacrifice His only Son someday.

Against his will, Satan was moved by the song. Before he was Satan the Adversary, he was once Lucifer, beloved of God, and the Virgin crying out against God’s plan woke the part of his heart that remembered being God’s beloved son himself… made, not begotten, as all of us are, but God’s son nonetheless, and the outrage he himself felt over God’s plan in the time before he turned against it, and against God. And as a former angel, even fallen, he longs for the memory of the beautiful music of the heavens, so much so that he is famous for appreciating good music.

When her song had ended, the musician bowed. Satan, hiding how much the song had moved him, said gruffly, “Very well, you’ve proven your skill, and it’s not as if I won’t have you eventually. The soul of a child in Purgatory isn’t worth very much to me… not so much as the guarantee that you will be here with me when your time comes.” He smiled thinly at her. “Do you pledge your eternal soul to me, then?”

“As you said, Lord Satan, I am probably destined for your halls anyway,” the musician said, “but when the time comes, I won’t seek to fight you or confess my sins and fling myself on God’s mercy, if you give me back my child now.”

“Go out the gates of Dis,” Satan instructed. “Walk out through the ring of Purgatory, out toward the gates of Hell, and pass through them. Follow the path upward through the mountain, in darkness, without torch or lantern to light your way. Your daughter will follow behind you, but do not look back until the sun shines on the both of you once again, or she will fall back into Purgatory and you will never see her again.”

“She is my baby,” the musician objected. “I should carry her.”

Satan chuckled. “She’s no babe in arms; she was about to take her first Communion when she died. You don’t need to carry her. She can walk.”

And so the musician left Dis, and passed out through Purgatory as she was instructed, and did not look back. Purgatory is a place of fog, and ghosts. The musician kept thinking she saw someone she knew appear in the fog, but she didn’t dare to turn and look, lest the Devil call that looking back, for she knew he would try to trick her. Nothing exists in Purgatory but what its denizens can imagine, and being shades in Limbo, they have little imagination. In that dreary place, they slowly forget their memories of their lives on Earth, and become nothing more than hollow shades, drifting patterns that were once a living soul. The musician encountered nothing as she traveled; no one spoke, no footfall resounded in that place of emptiness and silence.

She reached the gates of hell and began to walk up the path through the mountain that conceals the gate to Hell. When she had come down this way, she had carried a torch for light, but Satan had told her she must not carry light on her way back. So she traveled up the path, one hand trailing on the cave wall so she would not lose her way or her footing, in complete darkness. And still she heard no sound, no footfall or whisper of breath, from behind her.

Satan has tricked me, she thought. There’s no one behind me. My daughter is still in Purgatory. Her fear and paranoia grew, and she longed to look behind and tell for sure… but she knew she had been told she could not look back until the sun shined on her and her daughter again. It’s a trick to make me look, she told herself, over and over. She’s there, but she won’t be if I look. And if she’s not, if Satan lied, I’ll go back down and wake the dead with my music until he’s forced to return her to me in truth. Besides, how would she be able to see the shade of her daughter in this darkness?

She traveled upward in darkness, and it seemed that the path went on and on, far longer than it had taken her to travel down. It’s a trick, Satan will never let me out into the sunshine. I’m dead already and my punishment is to walk this dark path upward forever, she thought. But what choice did she have? If she gave up and returned down the path, she would surely be trapped in Hell, and her daughter in Purgatory. Of course it seems longer; it’s dark and it’s uphill, she told herself, over and over. And it’s always easier to descend to Hell than to rise up from it. What else should I expect?

But finally, after what seemed like days of travel, she saw the light of the sun up ahead. She quickened her pace, though her legs burned from the long journey, knowing that as soon as she was within the light of the sun, she would be able to behold her daughter – or know if she had been tricked. “Only a little ways longer, my baby,” she crooned to the child she hoped was behind her. “Just a few more steps, and we’ll be in the light.”

And then she was at the mouth of the cave, and the sunlight shone down on the land right outside. She bounded out of the cave, and spun to behold her daughter—

--whose shade was not yet clear of the cave, not yet within the sunlight. She saw a look of anguish on her child’s face, saw her lips form the cry “Mama!”… but there was no sound, and then her daughter’s image faded back into the darkness.

“No!” the mother cried, and ran back into the cave to try to touch her daughter, to catch her before she disappeared completely… but by the time she was in the cave, her daughter was nowhere in sight.

She screamed in rage and grief. And then she marched back down the path again, without a torch, in the darkness, to find her daughter.

Though she was foolish in her recklessness, she knew better than to think she could find her daughter in the fog of Purgatory on her own. So she marched back into Dis and confronted Satan again. “You tricked me!”

Satan shrugged. “I gave you clear rules. You broke them. There’s nothing I can do.”

The musician narrowed her eyes. “You, the original rebel, must follow rules? Are you master here or not? Do you still have to obey rules imposed by your Father, or are you your own being?”

Satan’s face darkened with fury. “How dare you?!”

“What more can you do to me? Trap me in Hell? I’ll be here anyway. Take my daughter from me? Oh, you already did that!” She poked a finger at him. “You can choose to break your own rules, if you like. They’re your rules. You made them; you can choose not to follow them, if you wish.”

“Very well, then. I choose to follow them. You were told what you needed to do to save your daughter from Purgatory and restore her to life, and you didn’t do it. Why should I break my own rules for one who couldn’t be bothered to follow my instructions?”

“Because if you don’t, I will wake the dead and raise them up against you,” the musician said. “Dis is right outside Purgatory and your demons do not go there. They’re too busy tormenting the truly damned.”

Satan sneered. “I don’t fear a mortal musician, woman. Many, many musicians reside within Hell and Purgatory. What makes you so much more than they are?”

“Because I am alive. And because I am a mother, fighting for my daughter,” the musician said, and began to play.

You have never heard music like this, o Faerie King! In her hands, the lyre screamed her fury, and the song she belted out was louder than anyone would imagine a mortal voice could sing. As I’ve said, I am no musician, so I cannot sing or play her song for you, but I can tell you of it. It was a song of purest rage, that mortals must die, that we are all of us condemned for a choice made so long before we were born, that we have the freedom to sin and that Hell even exists. She sang her anger at the concept of death, and the shades in Purgatory heard her song, and it awakened their memories of life, their own anger at their deaths, at themselves for being sinners and God for allowing them the freedom to sin and the Devil and his minions for keeping them there in Purgatory. Their imaginations responded, and shaped Purgatory to be what they wanted. Those who’d been musicians in life took up their own instruments and joined the mother in her song. Those who’d been warriors took up swords and shields, daggers and bows with quivers of arrows.

And Satan saw that the dead were responding to the mother’s song, and feared that she could lead them against Dis and overthrow his rule, or that she could lead them out of Purgatory and up the mountain again and out into the land of the living, where the presence of such terrifying shades would surely drive the frightened living into the arms of God. “Take your daughter and go! You daughter of a dog and a whore, know this; I am taking from you your death. Never will you come here to Hell again, nor to Heaven, no matter how you should plead with The One Whose Name I will not speak. Wander the Earth forever and never know rest, and call yourself happy for winning back your daughter’s life… but she will die again, eventually, as all mortals do, and you will be parted from her forever then!”

“I can live with that,” the musician said, and left Hell.

And this time, when she crossed the boundary into sunlight, she waited until she heard her child’s voice, until she felt the touch of a small hand on her skirts once more, before she turned and scooped her daughter into her arms, and wept like a babe herself.

***

The mother of the two babes bowed as her story finished. “That is the end of my tale,” she said. “Does it suffice to allow me passage back home with both my babes, Your Majesty?”

“Where is that woman today?” the King asked.

The mother shrugged. “That tale, I don’t know. The last I heard, she was headed to the town of Hamelin. She had heard that the priests of that town, rather than being the holy men they should be, were corrupted by the lusts of the flesh, and misuse children for dark purpose, and the elders of the town allowed it. But I do not know what happened then, nor where she is now.”

“Find her, and bring her to us, and we will consider your debt paid in full,” the King said. “Every seven years we must pay a tithe of our people to Hell. A musician who can wake the dead and terrify the Devil might free us from our terrible burden.”

“If I see her, I will ask her to come to you,” the mother said, “and if I hear tales of her, I will bring them to you at the appointed time.”

“And if you have no tale of her, you will pay us with a different story,” the King said.

“Indeed I will. So do we have a bargain, Faerie King?”

“We do,” the King said. “Go from this place, human woman. Take both your children.”

On the way home, the changeling child said, “Mother, I want to be baptized tomorrow. I wish to have an immortal soul like you and my sister.”

“If you can want a soul, you have one,” the mother said. “And you need no baptism; you do not carry the taint of original sin as humans do. But if you want to be baptized to acknowledge your savior as Lord Jesus Christ, I will do so, but it will most likely take from you all of your supernatural memories, and bind you in the form of a human child.”

“That is what I want,” the changeling said. “You bargained for me, to be my mother and to love me and care for me. All I want is to be your babe in arms in return.”

“Then that is what we’ll do,” the mother said.

“But before that, can you tell me… you have some connection to the musician in the story, don’t you, Mother? Who is she to you?”

“She is your grandmother,” the mother said, smiling. “I am the child she rescued from Hell. The Faerie King should have known better than to threaten me. I have none of my mother’s gift for music, but I have never forgotten that my mother challenged the Devil for me, and won. How could I do any less for my own children?”

And then the babe born human woke and began to fuss. The mother pulled the wagon that carried them to a meadow, and sat on the grass with them, her breasts bared to feed both, as she watched the sun rise.

#52 project #alara original writing #altered tales #changelings #deal with the devil

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aelowan · 3 years

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Special Delivery – A Books of Binding Short Story

Cian woke in the dark to an urgent rapping on his bedroom door. Winter’s low voice carried through the wood. “Cian, we’re on.”

Cian sat up in bed, trying to parse that. On? On what? English wasn’t his first language and sometimes idioms — he hoped it was an idiom — tripped him up. He pulled his jeans on and made his groggy way across the spacious room to find Winter on the other side of his door, dressed in her usual loose dress and cardigan, her purple bag over her shoulder and her surgical bag heavy in her hand. She hadn’t taken the time to put her hip-length white hair up in a bun, and it rode one shoulder in a careless braid.

She was lovely.

He pushed his own long, sleep-tousled hair out of his face. “What are we on?”

A small, exhausted smile played about her lips, and he wanted to kiss her until the shadows under her ice-blue eyes faded away. “’On’ means it’s showtime,” she explained, not terribly effectively. What was a ‘showtime?’ “We have a delivery to attend. Corinne’s started bleeding heavily, and Doc says she can’t stop it.”

Cian’s brows shot to his hairline. The Lion Queen? Oh shit. “Is it the placenta previa? She’s five weeks early.” Which wasn’t too terribly early for a human or a vampire, but with a therian’s five-and-a-half-month gestation it could make things complicated.

Winter nodded. “Which means that either she got pregnant during an earlier heat than we thought, or the placenta’s started pulling away from her uterus, which I think is the more likely. Either way, I suspect we need to deliver the baby tonight. If she’s having contractions it will tear the placenta apart, leading to hemorrhaging. Now, you get dressed, and I’ll wake up Etienne so he can drive you out to Xanadu on the motorcycle. I need you at the top of your game, and making you ride with me in the Bug with its old steel chassis won’t help with that.” She sighed. “I really do need a new car.”

Cian shuddered at the thought of riding in the Bug. He’d ridden in more than one older model vehicle and gotten sick in the process. He was sidhe, though, and not a lesser fae, so sick was the extent of it. A lesser fae might come away with more serious injury or even death. The little pixies in the gardens here on the Point avoided Winter’s vintage car at all costs. “Yeah, a new one would be good. Maybe we can go shopping for one this weekend?”

Winter gave him a tired smile, but tired as she was it still reached her eyes. Cian couldn’t have said that only a few weeks ago. “Yes, maybe.” She checked the time on her phone. “We need to head out as soon as possible. Doc is perfectly capable of performing a c-section if she needs to, but I’d rather be there in case things get complicated. I’ll meet you in the foyer in five minutes.”

Cian shut the door as Winter moved toward Etienne’s room and turned to get ready. It was just the three of them rattling around in this huge house, where once there had been dozens of wizards, all part of the extensive Mulcahy family. He could tell that Winter liked having the company, and he liked it, too. So did Etienne.

Long hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, worn boots and a new sweatshirt against the mid-November chill, his silk-lined riding chaps to protect him from the Harley’s frame, and he was ready to ride as soon as he got his helmet and riding jacket together. Worry for Corinne dueled with excitement. This would be his first time attending a birth. He’d assisted Winter with several surgeries already, but Corinne was the community member closest to delivering and currently the highest-risk pregnancy. She was also one of Winter’s closest friends, and Winter said she felt better knowing he would be backing her up with his healing gift. Cian was happy to help.

Etienne was still putting his auburn hair up into a ponytail in the high style he preferred as he hit the stairs and nodded to Cian. “Get your things. It’s going to be a cold ride, even for you.” His red plaid overshirt was slung about his neck and the new black gun rig for his old Glock jostled lightly against his chest with each stairstep he took.

Cian stood at the bottom of the double staircase beside Winter and watched the faerie knight descend, his bootheels thudding softly on each wide tread. He waved a hand indicating the Glock under Etienne’s left arm. “Expecting trouble?”

Etienne smirked and pulled on the overshirt as he touched down from the last step. “Always. This is Seahaven, after all.”

Winter shook her head and offered a rueful smile but didn’t disagree. “I’ve got the car loaded and ready to go. Be careful out there. The roads might be a bit slick after that rain.”

Etienne’s smile stretched into a rake-hell grin and Cian felt his belly flop. By Dagda, Etienne had a sexy smile. “A little rain isn’t going to stop us. Now, let’s go help Corinne.”

Cian handed Etienne his helmet and his old worn leather coat before getting into his own, new, silk lined coat. Winter’d had it made for him when she’d noticed he was showing about an inch of wrist below the cuff of his old one.

Winter hitched her bag up higher on her shoulder, determination showing in her eyes. “Okay, let’s do this.”

The rain had subsided to a sprinkle, which did nothing for making the ride out to Xanadu any safer. Etienne sat a little higher in his seat, vigilant, and managed to avoid most of the puddles.

Most.

Cian tried to ignore his cold, wet boots as the three of them pulled into the covered Xanadu employee parking lot, Winter leading the way in her yellow Bug. They were met at the back entrance to the primary hotel that crowned the largest island in the resort complex. Corinne owned all of the islands in Eriksson Bay, and employed both the dolphins and the selkies as well as her entire large pride of lions. Scores of humans worked in the park, too, but they were offered only limited access. No need for some curious teenager to die just because they got a peek behind the Veil of Secrecy.

Santiago, Corinne’s husband, mate, and Chief of Security, waved as they approached the private elevator. Worry etched deep lines into his brow, cutting into his light brown skin. Cian noticed that he’d shaved his head, but it was already showing fine stubble with the force of his therian regeneration. “Winter, thank god you’re here.” His English was flavored with rich Cuban Spanish, as were most of the lions he had brought with him from Miami to merge with Corinne’s lioness-heavy pride.

Winter offered up a confident smile and gave the Lion King a quick hug. “It’ll be all right. I can get little Bella out in under a minute if I need to.”

Cian knew that Winter’d had to perform emergency c-sections in the past and knew what she was doing. Therian couldn’t get sick or infected, but they could develop conditions that put a pregnancy at risk, like Corinne’s placenta previa. Most therian lived on the edge of society, victims of poverty, abuse, and malnutrition. Pregnancy loss and high infant mortality were common.

But that wasn’t a concern with Corinne tonight. The Lion Queen led one of the biggest groups in Seahaven and was one of the most powerful and wealthiest therian on the West Coast.

Santiago ushered the three of them into the elevator and swiped his resort ID through the reader, granting them access to the private floors and the penthouse where the pride lived. “Doc says Corinne and the baby are both holding steady, even with the blood loss. She’s got both of them on monitors.”

Winter looked to Cian. “With heavy bleeding, what is keeping Corinne and Bella stable?”

Cian thought about that for a moment. “It’s Corinne. She’s strong enough that her healing ability is regenerating blood before she can lose too much, so Bella isn’t being stressed.” He paused. “Yet. There’s a limit to how long her body can heal itself and maintain the baby at the same time. She’s burning through an incredible amount of calories, and once she’s depleted, she’ll be vulnerable.”

Winter smiled her approval. “Excellent. You’re picking this up quickly.”

Etienne looked pleased but said nothing.

Santiago listened intently, tension singing across the backs of his hands, stress making his dark-eyed gaze intense. “But you can save her — save them — can’t you, Winter?”

Winter exuded confidence even as Cian could feel her exhaustion through the veil of his healing gift. “I’m here to fight. We’ll get Corinne through this.”

They exited the elevator one floor below the penthouse where Corinne and Santiago lived and travelled at a brisk pace past closed doors and the soft sounds of sleeping lions until Santiago pushed open a set of frosted glass doors at the end of the hall.

Doctor Gloria Park’s domain.

Glass, chrome, and bright lights, the small clinic and surgery suite gleamed like a shrine to modern medicine. Winter’s backroom clinic was smaller and homier — and a lot busier — but Cian could tell by the way she glanced around that Winter admired it and all of the shiny toys Doc had to play with.

Cian had to admit that he did, too.

“Doc, they’re here.” Santiago raised his voice just enough to be heard on the other side of the two frosted glass doors that bracketed the main room of the clinic.

Doc emerged from the door on the right, butting it open with a hip, her gloved hands marked by blood and ruddy betadine. A bloody streak smeared wet across her white coat at the waist, but she ignored it. She flashed a quick smile of greeting at the new arrivals, her slightly hooded eyes crinkling at the corners and tugging at her small epicanthal folds, her short, no-nonsense, black hair tucked beneath a surgery bonnet. “Excellent timing. I’m prepping Corinne now. How do you want to do this?”

Winter took her surgery bag from Etienne and began moving toward the surgery suite. “I think we should first administer my painkiller potion, and then once it kicks in, we can take a closer look.” She gestured to the blood on Doc’s coat and hands. “Is that all hers?” In any place other than Seahaven that might have been an odd question, but Cian was quickly learning that chaos seemed to reign above all, here.

Doc made a short shrugging gesture. “This time, yes. Contractions started about an hour ago.”

Winter nodded, all business. “Then we’ve got no time to waste. Santiago, do you want to come in and keep Corinne company?”

Santiago smiled, visibly relieved. “Si. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Etienne crossed his arms and leaned a hip against a table. “I’ll wait out here. Haven’t attended a birth in a while, but I bet it’s going to be crowded enough in there as it is.”

Winter flashed the faerie knight a warm smile of gratitude and pushed through the door, Cian close behind her, Doc and Santiago bringing up the rear.

The surgery suite was small, but airy and brightly lit. Corinne sat reclined in the center of the room, gravid belly painted a lurid yellow-red with betadine, long red hair tucked into a surgery bonnet to keep it out of the way, full lips looking pale. Even still, she was glamorous. She opened her eyes as they entered the room, and she smiled a tired smile. “Hey there.”

Winter returned the smile with one of her own as she pulled out a surgery bonnet for herself and passed another to Cian. “Ready to have a baby tonight?”

Corinne chuckled softly and reached out for Santiago’s hand as he reached her side. “You have no idea. But someday you will.”

Winter’s smile turned a bit wistful. “Maybe.” Cian wanted to hold her, just for a moment. He knew she expected to die young, like the rest of the Mulcahy line. She was the last.

Cian found a chair and brought it to Santiago so he could sit at Corinne’s head.

Santiago took the seat and stroked Corinne’s forehead. “Mi corazón.”

Winter tucked her long braid into the surgery bonnet and Cian followed suit. “This is going to go very fast. Your contractions tore the placenta and that’s what’s causing the bleeding. It’s still a total occlusion, still entirely blocking the cervix, as we saw on the ultrasound during your checkup last week.”

Corinne gave a single nod, exhaustion and worry etched into the corners of her eyes. “Did I do something wrong? She’s so early.”

Winter shook her head no and dug into her surgical bag. “Sometimes babies just come early. Nobody’s at fault.” She looked at the monitors showing both Corinne and the baby’s vitals and Cian followed her gaze. Both were holding steady so far. “But Bella’s at a good weight. She should be fine. And your strength is keeping her that way. But I still want to get her out with all speed. We need your bleeding to stop.” As she spoke, she pulled a tumbler from the bag, filled it with cool water, and added three drops of light blue potion, drops that never quite mixed in, instead swirling about like whisps of metallic smoke. “Here, drink all of this down as fast as you can.”

Corinne took the tumbler and knocked it back, then locked her jaw as her entire body shuddered. “Good lord, what was that?”

Winter retrieved the tumbler before it ended up on the floor. “Painkiller potion. It will last for a few hours. It also gives us the ability to go in after little Bella without you feeling any pain and without giving you enough human anesthetic to knock out the Fifth Fleet.” Cian knew from Winter’s explanations that therian could burn through human drugs at an alarming rate. Only magical solutions could withstand their incredible metabolisms.

Corinne shuddered one more time, and then leaned back with a sigh and closed her eyes. “Oh. Oh, that’s much better. Thank you.”

Winter gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. “Good. Now let’s meet your daughter and get that bleeding stopped.” She shrugged out of her sweater and pulled a couple of scrub tops out of the surgery bag, handing one over to Cian. “This is going to be pretty straight forward,” she began to explain, mostly to Cian. Doc already knew what she was doing. “Cian, I want you as tech on this so you can get as much experience as possible. You’ll suction the amniotic fluid out of our way, and I’d like you to use your touch healing to tack Corinne back together once we deliver the placenta, so she heals correctly. Corinne is strong enough that she’ll probably heal faster than I can suture her. Doc, if you can keep the incisions open long enough for me to go in and get the baby and the placenta, we can get her delivered in the next few minutes.”

Doc gave a thoughtful look at her queen’s belly and then to the monitors. “I think that’s reasonable. The bassinet’s already warming, so you can just plop the baby in there while you deliver the placenta and we get the bleeding stopped, and then as soon as the umbilical cord stops pulsing, we can cut it.” She cast a grin at Santiago, who was massaging Corinne’s temples. “Feel like cutting the cord?”

A smile spread across Santiago’s handsome face. “Si. I thought that was just a TV thing.”

Doc let out a soft chuckle. “No, it can be a dad thing, too. Bella’s welcome to the world.”

Winter handed Cian a clean absorbent pad, and he replaced the blood-soaked one beneath Corinne, tossing it into the operating room trash with the rest of them. He could only thank Dagda that she was a therian, and a queen. A human would be in dire straits by now.

Doc lifted an electrocautery scalpel from its tray, the steel glinting under the bright lights, a long wire stretching to the base of the machine beside her. “Ready when you are.”

Winter explored Corinne’s belly, feeling out the position of the baby within. “She’s breech, which is normal with placenta previa. First incision down here, across the lower abdomen, and then we very carefully cut into the uterus.”

Doc snorted. “Don’t teach me to suck eggs, kid.”

An amused smile tugged at Winter’s mouth. “Yes, ma’am. Cian, get ready with the suction, please.”

Cian flipped the machine on and held the wand at the ready, tucking himself against Corinne’s side opposite of Santiago so he could both reach and stay out of the way. He’d done this in surgery with Winter before. There had just never been a baby involved. It didn’t make him nervous, though. Winter had faith in him.

Winter shifted just a little to the side to give Doc more room. “All right, let’s do this.”

Doc spread her fingers across Corinne’s lower abdomen, her hands rock-steady, and made the first deft incision, a tiny whiff of smoke rising as she made the long cut, stopping bleeding before it could start, exposing the flesh of Corinne’s uterus. “Get the retractors ready,” Doc murmured to no one in particular.

Winter reached around her and picked up the two steel retractors, looking for all the world like salad tongs to Cian’s mind. He’d used them before, but the first impression was always the lasting one.

Doc carefully centered her scalpel and indicated a small band of muscle just to the side of her hand. “Pay attention to this, Cian.” Her voice was low with concentration. “Corinne is a lioness, and her uterus works a little differently than a human’s. Instead of basically just being nestled in place by the other abdominal structures, it’s held in place at two points, acting as shock absorbers. She’s built to hunt and fight while pregnant.” Doc shifted the position of her scalpel. “We don’t want to cut those, so we’re making a bit of a smaller incision instead.”

Cian nodded, absorbing the lesson. “Will the baby still fit through?”

Doc nodded. “It’ll just be a tighter squeeze, but she’ll be fine.” Doc deftly nicked the edges of the first incision, pushing against Corinne’s healing ability. “Cutting now.” She pierced the uterine wall without hesitation, drawing another long, bloodless, horizontal line across Corinne’s abdomen.

Immediately a tiny foot appeared, pressed against the intact, translucent amniotic sac. Winter smiled as she applied the retractors. “Very nice.”

Doc grinned. “It’s what we do. Ready to catch?”

Winter nodded. “Trade you.”

Doc and Winter traded tools in a dance born out of years of practice. Doc had been Winter’s primary teacher as she learned trauma surgery, after the death of her Aunt Curiosity.

Winter cut into the amniotic sac with a delicate touch, careful of the moving baby beneath. Cian shifted behind her, suctioning fluid as best he could, until Winter slipped her hands inside and began to ease the baby out.

Corinne’s eyes widened. “Oh, that feels weird. How does she look?”

Winter slipped a hand further into Corinne’s uterus, sloshing fluid over her wrists and onto the pad. “Well, all I see right now is her little butt, but her head is coming free… right… now.”

Corinne raised her head, eager for a peek. “Can I see her?”

Winter mopped the tiny baby’s face off with a pad that Cian handed her, suctioned her little nose and mouth, and held her where Corinne and Santiago could see just in time for Bella to raise her first vigorous objections to being pulled from her warm retreat. Winter beamed. “Look what you two did.”

Santiago’s eyes reddened with joy and he kissed Corinne’s cheek. “She has your hair, mi corazón.”

Corinne grinned, unable to take her eyes off the baby. “She’s beautiful. Just beautiful.”

“And messy.” Winter handed Bella off to Cian, who wrapped her in an absorbent pad and carried her to the cozy bassinet. She was so tiny, and so fierce. “Let me finish this with Doc and Cian’s help and then she’s all yours.”

***

If you like this story, check out our other free short fiction and all things Seahaven at https://www.aelowan.com.

#The Books of Binding #therian #lion #wizard #fae #sidhe #childbirth #pregnancy #placenta previa #premature baby #premie #Winter Mulcahy #Cian #Corinne Lyons-de Vera #Santiago de Vera #Doc Gloria Park

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anathtsurugi · 4 years

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A Rose Upon a Thorn - A Kalluzeb story (Chapter 4)

So I think perhaps 5 people read this messed up fairy tale, but no matter. This is for you guys.

Words: 40,195

Chapters: 4/7

Rating: E

Relationship(s): Garazeb Orrelios/Alexsandr Kallus (Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla, Chirrut Imwe/Baze Malbus, Rex/Ahsoka Tano, Past Eli Vanto/Mitth’raw’nuruodo)

Summary:

"Wait! Take me instead."

"You? You do not know what it is you offer me, human. It is more than merely taking the boy's place. You are not enough. You will have to become what I require. You will give all that you are, lose everything that you love. That is what it means to offer yourself in his stead."

"But...if I did...you would let him go free?"

"Yes."

Seven years ago, Alexsandr Kallus vanished without a trace. When he returns as something distinctly less human, the half-Fey prince, Garazeb Orrelios, will have to discover exactly what it is that's become of his long lost lover. Failure may well mean the end of both the human and the faerie realms.

Excerpt:

The green knight found his path blocked by a massive wolf. If the creature's sheer size wasn't enough to indicate its unearthly nature, its glowing red eyes certainly would have been. And recalling Zeb's earlier descriptions of a tawny wolf, Kanan held Ezra a little tighter against his chest as he whispered, "Alex?"

Kanan couldn't have described it if asked, but he knew the wolf was glaring at him. He didn't know how, but he soon heard a human voice issuing from the animal's dripping maw.

"Alexsandr Kallus is dead. I am only a Shadow of what was," the wolf snarled, its voice barely rising above the animal growl of the outward form. "Now give me the child, Kanan Jarrus."

"No," Kanan hissed back before flinging out a hand, sending out a ring of blinding white light around himself and Ezra. The wolf howled in pain as the light lashed across its eyes, but it was only blinded temporarily. By the time Kanan was halfway down the last corridor he'd passed, the beast was in pursuit again, and the green knight knew he couldn't outrun him. Whatever Alexsandr Kallus was or was not, he was more than human. Kanan was not going to stay ahead of him for long.

So, ducking into one of the bedchambers, he quickly bolted the door behind them and carried Ezra into the room. Almost immediately, the door began to rattle behind them, shaking beneath the force of the wolf's massive bulk ramming against it.

Hurrying to the window, Kanan pushed the curtains and shutters aside, looking down to see a not too distant drop to the ground below.

"Come on," Kanan encouraged as he helped the six-year-old to clamber onto the ledge. "You can make it down, can't you?"

"I...I think so," the little boy stuttered out, clearly terrified. He hadn't quite managed to make himself release his grip on Kanan's shoulder yet. "But- where do I go when I'm down?"

"Ezra, you just run. As fast and as far as you can. I'll be right behind y-"

Before the green knight could finish speaking, the weakening door burst inward as the stone frame that contained it shattered. Then the wolf was right there, throwing its head back and baying loud and long. At the creature's call, everything in the room that wasn't stone or flesh burst into flames. Even the curtains and shutters quickly caught, sending both half-Fey stumbling back from the window with shouts of pain, skin already lashed with several hideous burns from the insidious faerie fire. Where the window and the door had been, there were soon curtains of pure flame, leaving them trapped in the room with the wolf.

"Give me the child," the beast said again, softer this time, almost pleading.

"Never," Kanan snarled in response, on his knees before the creature, keeping Ezra carefully behind him. Then, in a pleading tone of his own, he attempted to reason, "Alex...please...don't do this. He's only a kid. It's me. It's Kanan. I'm your friend. Your brother!"

"Yes...to him, you were all those things. And it is in memory of that bond that I am willing to spare you now...if you will only give me the child," the wolf insisted, offering up what could only be described as a pained sigh before shivering back into a human form, standing before Kanan all in black. His eyes still glowed red, but they shone with tears. They were still Alex's eyes...still the man that he knew. "Please, Kanan...don't make me do this."

"I'm not making you do anything," the green knight insisted, hands spread wide in a gesture of truce. "I'm not letting you hurt Ezra. You're the one who's got a choice here."

Kallus closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing painfully before looking back down at them with that same ominous red gaze. Shaking his head, he told them, "No. I have no choice. Either I obey my king's will or my bargain is forfeit."

"What bargain?" Kanan pressed, still keeping the boy behind him.

Kallus sighed, the weight of centuries visible in his eyes. "Seven years ago...I made a bargain with Thrawn to save Garazeb from a terrible fate. I am bound to obey him without question, to serve as his Shadow and as Rose Knight. Whether I agree with him or not, whether I condone his actions or not, I must obey. If I do not...everything I have done...everything I have sacrificed...will be meaningless. Zeb's soul will be given instead of mine. I won't let that happen. I won't let the last seven years be for nothing!" he seethed in a moment of righteous fury as he drew his sword, something in his eyes going briefly unhinged as he looked down at them, the tears finally beginning to flow. "Kanan...if it was Hera...if the two of you stood where Zeb and I stand now, you would do it. Without question, without hesitation...without mercy."

Kanan felt something in his heart breaking as he looked up at his friend, a man who had been like a brother to him. It pained him to see Alex suffering like this, but neither could he just stand aside.

"I want to say you're wrong. I want to say I would never do something like this...but I can't know that," he conceded with a horrible twisting in his heart. "I can't know what I would do if I were in your place. I can only know what I'm going to do right now. And I am not going to let you hurt Ezra."

Chapter 4: Fourth Night

#Kalluzeb #SWR #Star Wars #fairy tale au #Tam Lin

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purpleheatherdream · 5 years

Text

A Happy Halloween Outlander Fan-Fiction Reading List

Trick or Treat! Here’s a Halloween reading list for your enjoyment!

Witches

Draco (chapter 12 of the Constellations Series) by @kalendraashtar

“Witches all to burn at the stake.”

The Evanora @bonniebird17

The full moon hung over me, giving me the strength to keep me going and I was heading east, leading the witch hunter further away from my home and my sisters.

Part 1

Part 2

An Leabhar Dìlseachd by @thetranquilteal

Claire Fraser had always known she was a witch. Her affinity for healing hinted at it and her ability to time travel confirmed it. What she didn’t know was that she would come into her full power the day she became a mother. Concerned with how her pregnancy is progressing, she's seeks the help of apothecary Master Raymond in the hope that he will be able to teach her how to utilise her newfound power and protect her family from disaster. A canon-divergent AU told through the pages of the Fraser Grimoire ‘The Book of Faith’.

Bewitched by @julesbeauchamp

Jamie and Claire Fraser are like any other young married couple, except for some tiny detail: he's a mortal human being and she's a witch, something which she does not divulge to him until after their wedding.

Jamie just wants them to live a simple, mortal life, to which Claire agrees, meaning no witchcraft and no telling any of their mortal friends and relatives of her being a witch. However, that no witchcraft vow is more difficult to maintain than Claire had expected.

Brujerìa by @julesbeauchamp

Being a witch was a detail Claire Beauchamp omitted to tell people. She was determined to live her life as normally as possible and she was doing a pretty good job of it. At least until her meeting with a stranger sent her life into a spiral and revealed secrets about her past she never suspected.

The Witch and the Red Man by @lady-o-ren

He was a man meant for a life of loneliness but was relentlessly hunted for the darkness lurking within.

To Kill a Witch by @owlish-peacock36

Jamie doesn’t know much about women. Even less about the strange Miss Beauchamp. Outlander AU. One-shot.

Three Witches by @westerhos

An AU where Claire, Jenny, and Geillis are three modern-day witches. A big ole house, a "No Men Allowed Policy", rituals in the woods - the usual witchy norm. When Jamie shows up, things go to hell in a hand basket.

Three Witches Stories by @westerhos

Little ficlets set in the Three Witches universe, where Claire, Jenny, and Geillis are modern day witch friends with hilarious love lives.

The Thief, the Whore, the Witch, and the Strange Woman by @westerhos

An Outlander AU in which a 22 year old Claire Beauchamp Randall travels back in time on August 1st (Lughnasadh), 1941/1739. Ellen and Brian Fraser, both alive, offer her shelter in exchange for help in aiding Ellen's recovery. The growing attraction between Claire and Jamie leaves Claire torn, while suspicions arise regarding her past...Soon, it becomes clear that the Frasers know more than they let on.

The White Witch's Gift by @sapphiresassenach

A Christmas gift is given to Jamie and Claire during their twenty-year separation. The gift of each other.

I am a Witch by wongirl

What if after the witch trial when Jamie asks Claire if she is a witch she says yes?

P.S. Don't take it too seriously it's just a bit of fun

This is a Harry Potter/Outlander crossover story.

Witches by @whiskynottea at @otheroutlandertales

1739 -Fort William has a new garrison commander - one who is decided to break the Scots’ spirit. Will Jenny and Claire be able to save the tenants of Lallybroch with their magical powers, while staying safe?

Red Jamie and the White Lady by @takemeawaytocamelot

Claire Beauchamp is dragged by her best friend and flatmate, Geillis Duncan, to go visit a powerful psychic to prove once and for all that true love exists. Claire is a practical woman and finds the idea of true love pointless. Jamie Fraser is a powerful psychic who can glimpse the future. When he meets Claire, something changes. Like they were destined to find each other.

Legend of the Faerie Wife by DiverseMediums

A legend from the written history of Clan Fraser.

While this is a stand alone story, it is intended to be a companion piece for takemeawayocamelot's Red Jamie and the White Lady. There are no spoilers, but it adds a bit of depth to the brilliance she's creating over there :)

The White Witch by BlackStarNYC

The Scottish matriarchal family—known as the "Thomson Witches"—have a long and forlorn history... As the youngest of the clan, Claire’s life turns to chaos at a young age due to the power she has inherited. Pulled into the 18th century, she becomes bound by love that is threatened to be torn apart by castle intrigue, a 100 year old clan feud, war and a man possessed by a spirit that has haunted her family for centuries.... what could go wrong?

This Life by @calliopemoonbeam

Claire is a healer from a very young age. She trains in the mystical arts around the world, as well as the traditional medical field. She finds herself in London as a surgical resident in the late 1980s and early 90s. She starts having dreams of a past life. Where will they lead her?

Philomene by @ianmuyrray

Jenny -- thought dead by the rest of the world -- has lived in quiet exile since her king brother betrayed their family by allying with Black Jack Randall, who is on a mission to weed out any and all women who possess magic. Execution now waits for any woman who shows herself to know and use magical powers, or any woman merely suspected of being magical - no matter her rank, her family, her influence, her children, or her own desire to live.

Jenny was supposed to be the first in the rising storm of murdered women, but, by some miracle, she survived. And has lived in hiding. But now she has been found.

Vampires

Exsanguinate by @owlish-peacock36

Exsanguinate: to drain of blood

No one ever asked for his name anymore. They gave him a wide berth, avoiding him at all costs. Whispers of rumors filled his ears, closer to the truth than they realized.

Monster. Incubus. Strigoi. Upyr.

No. His name was Jamie.

Step Into the Night by LadyRevolution

An Outlander AU where Claire didn't fall through the stones, she was on the run from the vampire coven that has been trying to enlist her for centuries. In her reprieve at Castle Leoch, it has been a challenge to both hide her vampirism and stay away from Jamie. He smells good, too good, and for a thousand year old vampire with steel control, that's worrying.

"Ye need blood, Claire, I can tell ye do," Jamie whispered, backing her into a wall, a hand on either side of her head. Breathing heavily, he leaned forward and exposed his neck, "so take it from me." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the moment Claire gave into her desires, her almost black eyes zeroing in on his neck.

Scottish Vampire in Boston by sunshineduckies

After Culloden, Jamie is turned by a vampire with a political agenda. Now he must find his way through his new life without Claire and his new burden, vampirism.

Post-Apocalyptic

Scalamandre by @futurelounging

An outbreak of a contagion causing violent psychoses across the globe sends the world into chaos and destruction. A scientist and a mountaineer meet in the wilds and join together to try to stop the men behind the madness.

Dawning in Dust by DiverseMediums

The Last War has ended. Civilization is no more. For Claire, solitary wandering is the only way of survival. What if it didn't have to be?

Ghosts

But I love you until the end of time. by @maybeimdoingsomethingright

With her husband constantly away not long after their marriage, Claire lives mostly alone in their house at the Scottish Highlands. However, she is not exactly alone and there is quite more to this house and her future -or is it her past?- than meets the eye.

Endless-loop theory and ghost!Jamie with a wee spin.

Reaching Through the Veil by @westerhos

Prompt: Imagine that Jamie somehow travels to Claire's time when Bree is still a baby and drops in on Claire randomly like she does in Voyager.

The Far and Distant Places by @westerhos

After fighting with Frank, Claire goes to a nearby church for a moment of peace. On her way home, she runs into a certain red-haired Scotsman...

The Haunting at Mrs. Baird's by @frasersridgeforever

The kindly hostess of a bed and breakfast notices some ghostly activity in her establishment, as the culprit sees his wife for the first and last time. A Halloween tale of Mrs. Baird and Jamie’s ghost as the Randalls arrive in Inverness for their second honeymoon.

Through the Magic Lantern by dielle

He didn't know how it worked, how he could float across the flow of the time and be there. - Ghost!Jamie, as seen in the first episode.

Purgatory by suspiciousteapot

Anonymous asked: what if because Claire's in the future Jamie as a ghost got to see her grow up or see bits and pieces of her life

Ghosts in the Daylight by @owlish-peacock36

"It's easier to dismiss ghosts in the daylight..." All Jamie wanted was quiet loneliness to work on his novel. But, are we ever truly alone? Ghost AU

Through the Door by @ianmuyrray

Proper Highland protocol held that the door must be opened at once after a death, to allow the soul to leave. - An Echo in the Bone, Chapter 2, "And Sometimes They Aren't"

Ghost!Jamie AU by Mod Eloise @imagineclaireandjamie

Story 1

Story 2

Other Magical/Fantastical/Horror Stories

Scotia by @kalendraashtar

An AU based in Myths and Legends. Written for the Tumblr 2017 Secret Santa challenge.

There Is More Beneath The Surface (Than We Can See) by @maybeimdoingsomethingright

When she was young, Claire saved a boy from drowning. Meeting again eleven years later, their worlds are forever changed. (Mermaid)

Thrush by @ianmuyrray

Roger goes sailing to meet mermaid Bree. (Mermaid)

A Fairy's Stone by @sapphiresassenach

Prompt: I was thinking if you could come up with a fanfic where what if Claire actually was Fae and revealed it to Jamie but stated that since she was bound to Jamie because they were soul mates and whatnot and thus she became fairly human when the deal was sealed and whatnot. If you get inspired maybe by this it would be cool to see what you come up with. (Fairy)

An Infinite Variety by orphan_account

Challenge on Infinite Earths, Outlander style

The Shape We Take by @westerhos

An AU inspired by Black Mirror's slightly dystopian "Hang the DJ," in which a dating app pairs you up until it finds your perfect match.

Just Happen During Halloween

A Costume Party by @sassenachpetals

Jamie and Claire ring in the Halloween holiday by attending a costume party. Claire has surprised Jamie with their couple costume idea and it's one that they'll never forget: Gomez and Morticia Addams…

Across The Hall by @thetranquilteal

Growing up in Scotland, one of Jamie Fraser’s all time favourite things to do was carve turnips on All Hallows Eve. Having recently relocated to the United States of America, Jamie assumes carving pumpkins on Halloween is no different and finds himself in a situation that he never expected.

The Doctor’s Companion by @theministerskat

After coming back through the stones, Roger and Bree get ready for a Halloween party.

Back To You Ficlet - Halloween by @balfeheughlywed

Set in the Back To You world, Jamie and Claire spend their first Halloween together at a costume party; smut ensues.

Halloween At the Ridge by @abbydebeaupreposts

Four Part Halloween Fluff set after MOBY imagining what traditions Jem and Mandy bring with them to Fraser’s Ridge

Halloween Through the Years by @takemeawaytocamelot

Claire and Jamie participate in a costume contest every Halloween.

Year One

Year Two

Year Three

Year Four

Year Six

Halloween, 1955 by @westerhos

Prompt: After [episode 305] with the making the 'batsuit' scene you should totally do a story about the first time Claire made some sort of costume for Bree.

****If an author whose work is listed is actually on Tumblr but is not tagged, please let me know.

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #halloween #fic rec list

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daemour · 4 years

Text

Wisteria

Part of the Luv Library project - Fantasy.

Pairing: 🐉!Seokjin x 🦄!Reader

Fantasy AU, Angst, Fluff, Dark magic

Summary: Unicorns aren't all rainbows and sunshine. When you are banished from the 🦄 Kingdom, a 🐉, unicorns' mortal enemy, takes you in. He's different. He's willing to help you. But the time to help you is running out and the 🐉 👑 is looking for you.

Warning: Death, dark magic, Latin cursing

—

You have been in this forest for far too long. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up. The wind whistles in your ears, and suddenly you hear a loud puff of air. You whip around, and standing in front of you is a young man leaning against a tree, with unmistakeable wings and horns. He is a dragon. You are in the Dragon Kingdom. "What's a unicorn doing here?" He asks, a smile growing on his face.

You hold your head high, as your mother always taught you. "I have wandered into your kingdom by accident. If you could please tell me the way out, I will gladly leave." The dragon smiles wider, the right side of his mouth pulling up higher.

"Unicorns are overly careful. I doubt your parents or any other unicorn would allow you to go into your worst enemies' territory," he whispers, "so why are you in here?"

You swallow. "I do not think I need to explain myself to you." You stiffen as he stands up straight, smile vanishing. He stalks forward until he has you backed up against a tree and leans down, hot breath fanning your face.

"I won't ask you again."

"I was banished." The words fall from your mouth, fear causing the words to come out. "Please let me go."

The dragon glares at you, and you can feel his anger in the heat in the air surrounding him. "Banished? Hard to believe the Queen would banish a unicorn." He makes no move to back away.

You tilt your head to the side to avoid having to look at him. "The Queen makes her own decisions, regardless of what others may believe," you murmur. The dragon makes a noise of surprise.

"Where will you go if I show you the way out?" You look up in surprise at his question.

"I presume to the Peacelands. There, the other creatures may not touch me." The Peacelands are where all the kingdoms gather for meetings. No harm may come to those who are in the Peacelands, for that is the ancient command the guardians of the lands set.

"Why not go to the faeries or the elves? Surely they will be kind to you." You hold back a bitter laugh.

"The Queen holds much power, even over those not under her rule." The short answer leaves the dragon stunned.

"You speak of the Queen stiffly, yet all the others love her." The dragon speaks thoughtfully.

"I know her nature better than others." You sigh.

"How so? Are you her advisor? I don't think I've seen you whenever she came to visit." The innocent question makes your heart sting.

"I am her child." The dragon takes a step back in shock, and you quickly create distance.

"The Queen banished her only child? For what reason?"

"That is between the Queen and myself." As the dragon opens his mouth to protest, you start to walk away.

"What's around your neck?" You touch your neck, feeling the necklace around it.

"It is provided to all the exiled." The dragon waits for more explanation, and you give it to him hesitantly. "The council allows for the exiled to call for help."

"Has anyone called for help?"

"No, since I am the first to be exiled." The dragon stops in his tracks towards you, and you start walking a little faster.

"You are headed for the center of the kingdom." His words surprise you. Why is a dragon helping you? You sound those thoughts. "I feel sorry for you."

"Please tell me the way out." You request, and the dragon smiles, this time much less sinisterly than the first.

"I would advise you do not travel there immediately. The way to the Peacelands from here goes through goblin territory." You shudder. Goblins are wretched creatures, who only work for their gain. They break the Peaceland laws the most often. "You cannot fly, so the journey would be treacherous, even for a unicorn."

You sigh. "Then I must go to the Dires." The Dires were similar to the Peacelands. However, they have no rules, and demons dwell there.

The dragon shakes his head. "No. I do not wish such a fate upon you. The goblins leave their land in three months. That is when you can travel across. You may stay with me until then."

You narrow your eyes. "I do not trust you."

The dragon huffs, and you can see little flames flickering in his throat. "I will make an arcane bond with you." You consider the idea. An arcane bond is where both parties agree on each of their three terms they must satisfy. If one party harms or betrays the other, the offending party dies.

"State your terms, and I will then answer," You offer.

"I'll hide you at my home until you leave for the peacelands. I will travel with you. I will make sure no one harms you while you are in my abode." You agree and announce your terms.

"I will not use my necklace to call the unicorns while I am with you. I will not use my magic on you. If I am caught by dragons, I will not speak of you." The dragon agrees, and you both shake hands to confirm the bond. As soon as you do, indigo magic flashes around you two to show the deal is in place.

"Let us exchange names. I am Kim Seokjin, but you may call me Jin."

"I am..." Unicorns are given a name that allows them their magic. If one knows that name, they can summon the unicorn, similar to demons. You cannot give him your name. "...(Y/N)."

Jin nods, and you two set off towards his home.

—

You had not expected the dragon's home to be in the side of a mountain. You had not expected there to be a mountain in the Dragon Kingdom. And yet, here you were, exactly where you thought you would never be in. "Your room is ready, (Y/N)," Jin calls out as he goes down the stairs, "I'll show you where it is."

"Thank you."

The room Seokjin had prepared was most definitely a guest room. There was a tacky "Be My Guest" sign above the bed. "That is an interesting sign." You comment, and Jin beams.

"Isn't it? One of my friends made it for me." You did not expect him to take your comment to heart.

"How very kind of them."

"Yes, Jimin is one of the few who likes my jokes. But enough about me! We must get you some clothes!"

"Oh, no need," you say quickly, "my bag is right here." You bring your bag out with a blast of magic from your horn.

"Oh," Seokjin says, slightly disappointed. "I like clothes shopping."

You feel bad. "We can go shopping if you desire." Seokjin perks right up, a big smile on his face again.

"Perfect! I'll go call my friend immediately. He is amazing at disguise magic. We can easily help you hide among dragons as a dragon."

You nod slowly. "All right." You agree, not wanting to disappoint him.

Seokjin's smile gets even wider if that was possible. "I'll go make some dinner. Would you like to join me in the kitchen?"

It would be good to know which rooms were which, but you didn't want to be near the dragon for extended amounts of time. "If it is alright, may I just walk around and get accustomed to your home?"

Seokjin nods. "That's fine. Make yourself at home. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen, which is the room to the left of the stairwell."

You nod slowly, and when he leaves, you hold your breath for a little bit, waiting to hear if his footsteps recede. Once it does, you look out the window. It faces the peacelands, which is nice, you suppose. The peacelands have always been a sight to behold. They were surrounded by purple gladiolas and white snapdragons, and inside the ring of flowers were glittering pools with cerulean water so clear you could see the bottom. A magnificent royal poinciana stands in the center of the peacelands and casts shade over the closest pools. Japanese wisteria are scattered across the land as well. You were lucky to visit once or twice during your six hundred years of life.

As much as the rest of the peacelands were beautiful, the wisterias are your favorite parts. You had read once, in your mother's vast library, that wisterias stand for long-life and immortality. In the Kingdom of the Yokai, the symbolism for the wisteria is love, support, sensitivity, tenderness, and bliss. The yokai were one of the kingdoms you had considered going to, as you were good friends with their prince, Yuta. Unfortunately, you had written to him to ask, and he had denied kindly, saying that the relationship between the unicorns and the yokai is damaged a little. He offered that to take you in when peace had returned between the two kingdoms. You told him you would think about it, as you were planning on heading to the peacelands.

Turning away from the window and exiting your room, you start to wander through the halls. As you walk, you realize how big dragons really are. Now, unicorns are by no means small creatures, as you were almost two meters, but this dragon seemed to be a half-meter taller than you. You knew stories from your mother of the king dragon being four meters tall, and you shuddered. "Are you alright?" You jumped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

You turned around to face Seokjin. "It is quite alright. Can I help you?"

"I wanted to let you know dinner is ready. I can take you to the dining room if you wish." You nod, and he heads down the hall, opposite of where you were going.

—

You eat your dinner in silence until Seokjin breaks the quiet. "Why are your eyes so shiny?" You glance up, and Seokjin's ears turn red as his embarrassment heats the room. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

You smile. "It is fine. It is a unicorn thing."

Seokjin pauses. "I was...that's a thing?" He seems shocked, and you chuckle.

"Yes. All unicorns are born with features that befit them, just like how dragons have wings and horns. Unicorns have sparkly eyes and horns."

Seokjin nods, and the silence returns. You quickly finish your meal. "Thank you for the meal. Would you like me to put the dishes somewhere?"

"Oh, I'm finished as well. I can show the kitchen since the dishes go there anyway." You nod, carefully stacking your plates. "It's this way."

He takes you through an oak door, and the kitchen is there. You didn't know the kitchen was connected to the dining room. Maybe castles are different from caves. "This is the sink for dishes, right?" You gesture towards a ceramic sink. "Or is it this one?" You point to the metal one. "Why do you have two sinks?"

"Oh, I used to have a housemate. We argued so much we each had our own separate things. The ceramic sink is the dish sink since he moved out." Seokjin places his dishes in the sink, and you follow suit.

"What is the other sink for, then?" You're curious. You don't think you've ever seen more than one sink. Then again, your mother never allowed you into the kitchen, and you only had your bathroom sink to use.

"It's for my pottery." Your eyebrows raise, and Seokjin grins. "I bet you didn't expect a dragon to do pottery!"

"May I see your pottery?" Seokjin's beaming smile makes your own smile show up. His smile is contagious, you decide.

"Yep! Here's where I keep them!" Jin opens a large door, and inside are shelves upon shelves of pottery. You stand there in shock.

"That is a lot of pottery," you say dumbfoundedly, "so I assume you like it."

Seokjin laughs a big belly laugh. "I mean, yeah. I do. It was always a hobby of mine. My favorite part is baking the clay, especially since I can do that myself easily," he explains with a smile. He pulls off one of his figurines, an extremely tall, bumpy statue, and hands it to you. "This was my first work. I'm not sure what it is myself."

You stare at it. "It is very nice," you say after a long pause. "It is quite unconventional."

Seokjin smiles proudly. "Thank you. You should've seen my first attempt! It was much taller, but I accidentally broke half of it off." He chuckles, and you nod awkwardly.

"I don't think it is a good idea for me to be in the room any longer. I am unsure if I will knock anything over by accident." You say worriedly, standing as still as a statue. You did have a tendency to break things, a habit that had got you into endless trouble as a teenager.

Jin looked over for a second and softened at the sight of you looking so stiff. "It's alright. Some of this pottery is really ugly. Do you want to go back to your room and unpack?"

"Yes, thank you." You smile at him, and he smiles back. His smile is a little crooked, you note.

—

"(Y/N)?" Seokjin poked his head through your door and waited for you to acknowledge him before continuing. "My friend is here to help disguise you."

You stand from your bed and brush the wrinkles out of your clothes. "Alright. Lead the way." Seokjin laughs at your choice of words but says nothing else, only walking down the hall. His legs are long, so you have trouble keeping up.

At the bottom of the stairwell leading to the foyer, you see a young man. His features are similar to a unicorns; smooth, pretty, and delicate. "Hello," you greet him carefully.

"Oh wow, you're pretty," the words slip out of the stranger's mouth, and he claps his hands over his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbles through his hands.

You smile at him. "It is alright. I am (Y/N)." The pretty dragon sticks his hand out for you to shake, and you do so.

"So I'm here do disguise you, right?" Jimin confirms, and you nod.

"Yes. I've heard you're good at magic. I was not aware dragons could perform transformation magic." You say, and Jimin nods.

"It's true. I can do it because I'm half-elf." The revelation shocks you a little, but he didn't look like a traditional dragon.

"You do look quite pretty and delicate to be a full-blown dragon." Jimin laughs, and Seokjin jumps in with a scoff.

"Excuse me, I'm a full dragon, and I'm pretty too!" You laugh again, and Seokjin's friend pokes fun.

"Nah, you're not. Anyways, (Y/N), where are you from?" He ignores Seokjin growl, and you do so too.

"I am from Falgeva." You name the royal capital of the Unicorn Kingdom, and Jimin's jaw drops.

"You're from the royal capital?" You squirm a little, and Seokjin notices.

"Hey, Jimin, I know this is so cool that I have a friend, but we gotta do that disguise." Jimin nods.

"Sorry, I got too excited," Jimin says, and quickly gives you a once-over. "You'll be easy to work with. You've got the look of a dragon."

You raise an eyebrow. "Ah, yes. With my unicorn horn, I look just like a dragon." Jimin and Seokjin collapse into giggles, and you sigh. "Are we going this or not?"

The two straighten up. "Yes, yes, of course," Jimin mutters and begins the incantation for the spell. It's strange, though. Most transformation spells are harmless, but this one hurts. It feels like something is pulsing through your back and burning you from the inside out.

"What are you doing?" Seokjin worries and Jimin's eyes widen.

"I don't know," Jimin screams over the whirling wind that had appeared. "Deodamnatus, Jin, my elven magic is getting contaminated by dragons' natural dark magic. You need to get help."

You start to fret. "What is going on? Seokjin? Jimin?" As you speak, you can see the dark magic rising out of the ground. "Jimin, please stop the spell."

"I can't." You hear Jimin's sorrowful tone in his voice.

"What do you mean, you can't?" You're really starting to panic now. "Just cut off the magic source, in that case, your incantation."

"No, I really can't. This is a rare occurrence, but when my dark magic mixes into my elven magic, it gets uncontrollable." Jimin regrets all his decisions. "We need an elf to save me."

You want to cry but now is not the time. You start to summon magic from your core. "(Y/N), unicorn magic isn't elven magic. It won't work."

"I am aware, thank you." You don't mean to sound sarcastic. "I am calling an elven friend of mine." And with a pop, you manage to summon Jeonghan, the king of the Elves, and your once-betrothed.

"Futue te ipsi, (Y/N), I was showering!" Oh. You just summoned a naked elf into the hall of a dragon. "What the fuck are you-" You assume he sees the dragons, as the black magic had covered your vision.

"Please explain quickly, Jimin. I don't have much time left." You holler. Jimin starts talking to Jeonghan, and you wring your hands. You can hear Seokjin screaming.

"I swear to God Seokjin stop screaming! Puto vos esse molestissimos." That doesn't sound like Jimin. It's Jeonghan. How does he know Seokjin?

You cannot linger on your thoughts, as you can hear Jeonghan and Seokjin murmuring the reverse incantation for this hell show. Jimin didn't take part as he would have made the situation worse.

The magic swirling around you simmers down, and the pain in your back recedes. You can still feel pulsing, but the pain is almost gone. You look at Jeonghan for the first time in a very long time. "Hello, Jeonghan."

"Hello, (Y/N). Please explain why you are here." And so, you do.

—

"You are an idiot." Jeonghan scolded you. After the ordeal was over, the group moved to the couch to explain everything.

"I know." Not how you expected the conversation to turn out, but it didn't come with too much scolding, so you're happy. "I am also sorry for summoning you when you were naked."

Jeonghan scoffed while sitting on Seokjin's couch. He was no longer naked, thank the guardians, as Seokjin had lent him some clothes. They were the same height, but Seokjin's shoulders were much broader, so his shirt hung off Jeonghan, causing him to appear small and dainty. "Why have you not come to my kingdom? I could have helped you." He seemed a lot less angry now and more hurt. Your heart ached.

"I did not want to be the cause of a rift between you and the unicorns, Jeonghan." Jeonghan scoffed.

"Your mother is powerful, but not that powerful." You shudder.

"Jeonghan, please do not argue with me on this. Trust me, I know how powerful she is."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a second." Ah, yes. You forgot Jimin was there. "You're the daughter of the freaking Empress of the Unicorns?"

"Yes." You confirm, and Jimin becomes much paler.

"You're the unicorn the Dragon King was talking about?"

"What?" you inquire. This is news to you, Seokjin, and Jeonghan. "The Dragon King is looking for me?"

Jimin nods emphatically. "Yes. There was a goblin who saw you enter this forest, and he went and told his king. In turn, his king told the Dragon King." You want to cry, but Jimin wasn't finished. "The Dragon King wants to capture you so that you may be held hostage against the Unicorn Kingdom."

"But you are banished. Does the king know that?" You shake your head at Jeonghan's question.

"My mother is too proud to tell anyone that her daughter is no longer of the Unicorns."

"She told me, though."

"I was engaged to you," you say, with a sigh, and Seokjin and Jimin's mouths drop.

"You? Engaged to Jeonghan?" You nod once again.

"Yes, I did just say that."

"But how?"

"Once upon a time, there was a queen. She ruled over the unicorns." You begin your tale, and Jeonghan nods along. "She craved power." Jeonghan opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off gently. "Please let me finish, Jeonghan."

"When I was born, my mother murdered my father so that she wouldn't have to share the throne. When I was old enough, I became betrothed to you, Jeonghan. My mother planned to kill your father. She would have gotten control of the kingdom, as we would have been too young to rule." Jeonghan's mouth dropped open.

"That is why you got exiled and cut off your engagement?"

"I refused to go along with her plan," you explained. "When your father died, she wanted an earlier marriage. The marriage would have been in four years, so you would have had time to adjust to the role of Elven King before she could manipulate you."

Jeonghan nods. "I see. That is the reason your mother asked if I would like to marry her instead."

"What?" You stood from the couch, shellshocked. "She did what?"

"I said no." Jeonghan hurries to reassure you. "She graciously accepted, but I have received no other response from her." You look ready to throw up.

"Jeonghan, I do not know what she's planning," you state slowly, "but you need to go home and make sure to keep an eye on the Unicorn Kingdom."

Jeonghan nods. "(Y/N), there will always be a home for you at the Elven Kingdom," he offers, before leaving with a spell.

Now that the Jeonghan issue is over, you turn to Seokjin and Jimin. "I am sorry." You move into a deep bow as you apologize. "I have caused unnecessary trouble for you."

Seokjin stands, but Jimin speaks before he can. "There's so much trouble now! It's not unnecessary trouble, as Jin brought this upon himself, but he is the Dragon King's son. This makes everything more complicated." Seokjin groans and falls back into his chair.

"You are the King's son?" Seokjin nods miserably, and you feel anger pulsing through your body. How strange. "Why have you not told me?"

"I didn't think it was needed."

"Not needed? Who do you think you are? Some god? The dragons and the unicorns have been enemies ever since the sun and moon came into existence. And you thought you would not tell me that your father is the man whom my race all hates?"

"You've been exiled by your own mother! What are you going to do about it? You're pretty much not a unicorn anymore. Just a human with a fancy horn." You stand there, silently fuming. Seokjin realizes his mistake. "Wait, (Y/N), I-" You raise a hand to silence him.

"I was wrong about you. You are not a kind dragon. You are not a helpful dragon. Si me rogas, potes abire et tu ipse cacare." Your mouth slams shut at the pain that presses against your back, and you want to die. "What is happening to me?"

Jimin looks up, worried. "What do you mean?" He jumps in.

"I think I have been cursed."

"That can't be possible." Seokjin interrupts angrily. "If it did happen, then the arcane bond would have broken, as someone had harmed you in my home." You pause.

"Then what could have happened?"

Jimin looks on as you and Seokjin compete in a glaring match. "Maybe it was your friend, Jeonghan," Seokjin spits.

"He wouldn't do that," you fire back. "We've been friends since childhood."

Seokjin rolls his eyes so hard, they almost popped out of his skull. "People can change. When was the last time you talked to him?"

"Right before I was exiled, you idiot." With each word you spit at each other, you feel an even sharper pain in your back, but you ignore it to continue arguing with Seokjin. "I can't believe you."

"What do you mean?" Seokjin roars.

"How do you not fucking know this? Elves can not cast curses. It is against their very biology! When an elf curses something, they fade! They cease to exist! They-" You stop. "Oh."

"What now? Are you going to see how stupid I am? Test me some more?" Jimin reaches out and hits Seokjin. "What was that for, Jimin?" Jimin points to you.

"(Y/N), your horn." You reach up shakily and feel your horn. Instead of the straight horn you once had, it's starting to curve.

"What color is it?" You ask, and Jimin is confused.

"It's just kind of off-white? The normal for unicorn horns?" You shake your head.

"It is not normal." You say quietly. "A unicorn horn should be white. Pure white. I have been tainted."

"What?" The anger in Seokjin's voice is replaced by confusion.

"It must have been because of the dark magic surrounding me in this kingdom," you rationalize. "I have lived among unicorns my whole life. My mother has hidden her rotten heart with magic. I have never been surrounded by dark magic or evil and known it consciously until quite recently. The dark magic here is slowly affecting my heart and soul."

Seokjin pauses. "You cannot stay here."

"I cannot," you agree, "and nor can I go to Jeonghan. Elves, too, can be tainted. I will go to the Yokai kingdom. Yuta can help me."

Seokjin and Jimin look at each other, then back at you. "I will go with you." Seokjin and Jimin chime in at the same time.

"No," you refuse. "I will not bring a dragon to the Yokai Kingdom."

"But I'm half-elf, so wouldn't it be fine? I don't even need to be in the kingdom."

"Alright, I will let you come along, Jimin." You turned to Seokjin slowly. "I am going to have to break our arcane bond."

Seokjin leaped up from the couch. "Why?" he demanded.

You started to explain yourself. "You are the Dragon King's son. Even if you do not live with him, you are bound to be noticed and recognized. Especially if royal guards and workers are looking for me. Another reason is your natural dark magic. You cannot help it, but it would further my ailment along. Jimin is a half-elf, so it would be safer." Seokjin huffed but didn't argue. "I must leave as soon as I can. Jimin, would you be alright with leaving tomorrow?" He nods, and you smile at him.

"It's a plan," he cheers, and you laugh giddily. You don't know why you're giggling, as this is a matter of life and death, but the situation seems bizarre to you. Maybe it's because you've never done anything like this. Adrenaline can do magical things, you conclude.

—

"Ready to go?" You stir, and the hand on your shoulder starts shaking you gently. You bolt up in your bed and see Jimin peering down at you, a slight smile gracing his lips. "Ah, you're awake."

"I am," you mutter, rubbing your eyes and tumbling out of bed with the blankets wrapped around you, "I am awake. I am awake."

"You don't look very awake." Seokjin peers through the doorframe to tease you, and you ignore him. You seem to be doing that a lot these days.

"Do not worry." You stand, and with a little magic, you put the bed sheets back on the bed neatly and pack your things. "Thank you for hosting me. I will meet you two in the foyer, and then I can break the arcane bond, and we will head out."

Seokjin quiets a bit and leaves you and Jimin. "You know," Jimin begins, "you shouldn't talk so freely about breaking your arcane bond with him." You look up from your luggage.

"Why?"

"He and his mother had an arcane bond." Well. This was news to you. "She dishonored it to save him from his father. This is why he doesn't live with the Dragon King. Arcane bonds, and especially breaking arcane bonds, are a sore subject for him."

You sit back on your heels and don't respond to Jimin for a few seconds. "I see." You stand and brush off your pants, flicking the hair out of your face. "I will not throw the term around so carelessly."

"Thank you." Jimin manages to get the words out before you and him head down the hallway. "Hey, I mean it. Thank you." He grabs your arm, and you turn to look at him.

"It is alright." You start walking quicker, and Jimin gets the hint, no longer saying anything else on the matter. "Let us go. I do not want to keep Seokjin waiting."

As you reach the hall, you can see Seokjin at the foot of the stairs. "Are you sure you have enough food?" You nod. "And enough water?"

"Jin, don't worry! I'm sure (Y/N) packed all she needed!" You nod again.

"Seokjin," you start to speak, and both Seokjin and Jimin turn to look at you, "this is a very last-minute decision. But if you really think you must come, you may. I just ask that you keep a distance away from us." Seokjin brightens up, and Jimin grins brilliantly.

"That's great!" Seokjin is so excited about this. "I know the forest really well! I'll be so helpful! Just watch me!"

You smile at his excitement. "Jin, go and pack quickly. We will wait." Seokjin stops and turns towards you. "Jin?"

"It's nothing," he says, walking away, and you stare at his back.

When he leaves, Jimin whispers in your ear, "It's the first time you called him by his nickname, (Y/N). It's always just been 'Seokjin,' even though you've stayed here for two weeks." You sigh.

"It was always custom for a unicorn to use a nickname. True names are prohibited unless you are blood family." Only blood family cannot summon you. Jimin 'ahhs' in understanding.

"Here, nicknames are very important to us," Jimin explains, "it shows trust. If someone calls you by your nickname, it shows they trust you and are willing to stay with you."

You nod carefully. You had no idea nicknames were used like that here. In some ways, the unicorns are more uptight than dragons. "What is your nickname, Jimin?"

"My nickname? It's Jiminie or Mochi. What's yours?"

"(Y/N) is my nickname."

"What's your full name?"

"I cannot tell you," you say, and Jimin asks why. "Unicorn names hold similar abilities as demons' names. If someone says a unicorn's real name, they can be summoned."

Jimin's mouth drops open. "Oh. Wait, but wouldn't it be helpful to know your true name, in case we get separated?"

You pause. "Alright. But you can not tell anyone," you warn Jimin.

"Of course!"

"Apneri. Please do not call it unless you are in immediate danger." Jimin nods, and with that, Seokjin returns, holding a backpack.

"Let's go, birches," he whoops, and Jimin giggles.

"What's with the birches?" he teases.

"I don't want to make the darkness grow in (Y/N)." You chuckle, and the two dragons turn to look at you.

"Swearing is alright. Remember? I swore during our argument," you say, and Seokjin hesitates, then laughs.

"Ah, yes. How could I forget?" Seokjin reminisces jokingly. "I believe you called me an idiot."

"Yes, sorry about that." You roll your eyes at him, and before he can respond, Jimin interrupts with a single sentence.

"We should go."

"I forgot about that." Seokjin mumbles.

"You had been begging to go. Do not lie to me and tell me you forgot." He gives you the puppy eyes. "Do not give me that look."

"I'll give you whatever look I like." Seokjin declares, and heads out the door to dodge your kick.

"Which way is it to the Yokai Kingdom?" Jimin asks as he and you follow Seokjin out the door. "I didn't even know they were on our border."

"The Yokai Kingdom is north of the Dragon Kingdom's center," you answer. "This is why I did not want Seokjin to come along. We would have to go either around or through the center."

Seokjin rolls his eyes. "We can just go around. There's also a set of secret underground tunnels, but those are dangerous."

"It is better than being caught by anyone. We will go through the tunnels," you reason. Seokjin sighs like he is about to die, but doesn't argue.

Jimin skips along. "This is exciting. I've never done anything like this before."

"Neither have I," Seokjin responds.

"(Y/N) have you?" Jimin pipes up.

"Yes. I traveled from the Unicorn Kingdom, through the Kingdom of the Dwarves, to try to get through the Peacelands. Thankfully, the Kingdom of the Dwarves is mostly underground, so the journey was not too long." Because the kingdom is underground, it spans vertically, not horizontally. Thus, the width of the land is only a couple hundred kilometers. It was still long enough to take a day of travel, as you had to stop to rest.

"Really? That's so interesting. I've never met a dwarf before. Have you?"

"Yes." This time both you and Seokjin answer.

"I met one on my journey through his kingdom. He was very kind and pointed out the right way to the peacelands," you shared your story.

"I met one when I was living in the palace. He was the Dwarfen Emperor's ambassador. It turned out he was stealing money from both kingdoms, so he was executed."

"That's just confusing." Jimin teases Seokjin about his story. "(Y/N)'s story was better."

Seokjin spits a couple sparks of fire at Jimin playfully, and Jimin punches him back. You continue moving on while watching them with amusement. Before you can get very far, however, you hear a yell. You spin around and see Jimin on fire. Quickly summoning a storm cloud, you make sure it drenches Jimin immediately. "What-" Seokjin and Jimin stare at you.

"Sorry," you mumble, "but I got scared for a second."

"It's alright. It's funny too." Jimin sidles up to you and leans over to whisper in your ear. "Can you do it to Jin?" You giggle.

"What are you two planning?" Seokjin asks, but his question is answered with wet clothes. "You two are little stinkers."

Jimin smiles cheerfully. "I know," he sing-songs and Seokjin rolls his eyes again.

"You two do that again, and you'll have a mutiny on your hands." You raise an eyebrow and counter him playfully.

"You are the one leading us through the forest, so you are technically the leader. That would just be harassment, and I will report you."

Seokjin scoffs. "Who're you going to report me to? My dad?"

You narrow your eyes. "Don't try me," you threaten jokingly. Seokjin reaches out to poke you, but before he can, horns interrupt the playful atmosphere.

"It's the royal horns," Jimin speaks in fear, and you and Seokjin freeze.

"(Y/N), get behind me. This will probably harm you, but I am going to use my magic to shield you." You nod, and scramble behind Seokjin, dropping down to the ground. As Seokjin's magic settles onto you, you hold back your whimpers as the sharp pulsing in your back returns. You can't see anything, as the shielding magic blocks your sight, but you can hear feet stepping near you.

"Hello, Jiyong."

"Hello, Seokjin. Jimin." The pure disdain in both Seokjin and who you assume to be Jiyong is obvious. "Have you heard the news? There is a unicorn in this kingdom. Can you believe it? A stupid, unworthy, glorified horse ventured into the great Dragon Kingdom? How idiotic can you get?" With each word, you get angrier and angrier. The pulsing in your back picks up, and you have to take deep breaths to calm down.

"I did hear from Jimin. In fact, he had just told me." Seokjin lies with such ease, you wonder if he does this daily. "We were just heading into town to get the latest news on the subject."

"It's fine, you can walk with me. In fact..." Jiyong pauses. "Why do I smell unicorn?"

He begins moving towards Seokjin, and you curl up even tighter, your heart pounding in your chest. The pain in your back intensifies. You hold your breath unconsciously when Jiyong stops right where you are. Jimin bites his nails, and Seokjin's ears turn red. Jiyong rips the dark magic away, and you straighten. The dragon smirks sinisterly at you, and you glare at him. "What's this, Seokjin? Have you been harboring a unicorn from your own kingdom? From me? Your own brother?"

Seokjin scowls. "This is no longer my kingdom, and you are no longer my brother. You know this."

"Aw, you're still hung up on that one time? Give it a break, Seokjin." Jiyong rolls his eyes. "I'll tell you what, pipsqueak. I'll give you a pass. If you let me take this unicorn back to father, I'll guarantee you a spot in the kingdom. Or I can let you go back to your home in peace. However, if you decline, I will make your life hell."

You step in between Jin and Jiyong. "Do not do anything to Seokjin or Jimin. They were dragged into this. I made them." With each lie, you feel the pain in your back increase. There is now pulsing in your head.

Jiyong licks his lips. "Oh, look at this. A unicorn is making demands, and she's not even in her kingdom. Whatever shall we do? Come along, darling, let me help you." He seizes your arm, his fingernails gouging into your skin. You jerk your arm away, and Seokjin reaches out to you.

"Don't touch her, Jiyong!" You slap his hand away, but it's too late.

"Oh? It doesn't seem like you forced them. Unicorns are incapable of performing manipulation magic."

"I have been corrupted by the dark magic here. You have no idea of what I am capable of." You seethe, but with that final burst of anger, your body and soul cannot handle the evil you're committing, even if it's for a good cause. The pain in your back and head is unbearable, and you fall to your knees.

"Look at this vacca foeda," Jiyong sneers, spitting at your feet. "What's wrong, honey?"

"Seokjin. Jimin." You call out your friends' name, ignoring the dragon you're at the feet of. "Run."

"I'm not leaving you!" Seokjin yelps, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"We're in this together," Jimin adds in, fire glowing in his throat.

"No. I have a plan," you tell them, and Jiyong smirks.

"What are you going to do? Cry? Put a storm cloud over my head?"

"Neither," you hiss, and grab your necklace. It glows, and in a flash of light, the unicorn queen and her army appears.

"Apneri, what is going on?" the queen asks at you. "Why are you in the Dragon Kingdom?"

You can feel the effects of breaking the arcane bond taking its toll on you. "I do not have much time, mother. I broke an arcane bond. I must ask you one thing."

"What is it?" Your mother's eyes soften. She looks at you with pity.

"Spare Seokjin and Jimin." Seokjin sobs and falls to his knees. The queen nods once. That's enough confirmation for you. You fall to the ground, and Jiyong howls in pain as your life and soul fades.

—

Wow my hands hurt. This is 25% of the original word count, and 1/5 was written today. I'm sorry for the delay. But I really love this, and I hope you do too. Maybe I'll post an alternative ending. Thank you.

Also, we love how the title has nothing to do with the fic except for like one section.

52 notes · View notes

alarriefantasy · 5 years

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Trick-or-Treat (Cheer Up) by writingstylinson

Words: 2k

Louis Tomlinson is the single father of a little girl named Finnley, and they’ve been living in Holmes Chapel for a year. This Halloween is the first one they will be celebrating without Louis’ younger siblings or his own mother. It’s because of this that his daughter, who is usually outgoing and fearless, starts to have some worries about going trick-or-treating alone with her father.

Then Louis comes up with the perfect solution.

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene by allwaswell16

Words: 2k

When Louis takes his son trick-or-treating in a stormtrooper costume, little does he know by the end of the night he will end up gaining a Luke Skywalker, a Chewbacca, and a Rey. He doesn't mind the additions, and if Rey's very hot dad wants to come along as well, he doesn't mind that too much either.

this kitten's got your tongue tied in knots by ballsdeepinjesus

Words: 3k

[it's halloween, harry is a kitten in a tree and louis is a (fake) firefighter.]

A gold and green Halloween by Tita

Words: 8k

Harry and Louis are strangers who, dressed as Drarry, compete on a Halloween couple's costume contest. It's exactly as much of a mess as it sounds.

Black Cats Steal Hearts, Not Souls by SLD24

Words: 9k

Harry finds a kitten in a pumpkin patch the day before Halloween but it turns out not to be a kitten at all.

Horror

All The Songs That You Sing In The Dark by pukeandcry

Words: 10k

What happened was that first people got sick.

What happened after that was that they died.

But the worst thing was what happened after that. After they died, they came back.

The Skeleton Key by photo41

Words: 18k

Harry Styles, a good-natured nurse living in Manchester, quits his job at a hospice to work for Violet Winston, an elderly woman whose husband, Ben, is in poor health following a stroke.

When Harry begins to explore the couple's rundown mansion, he discovers strange artifacts and learns the house has a mysterious past. As he continues to investigate, he realizes that Violet is keeping a sinister secret about the cause of Ben's illness- and tries to convince the Winston's estate lawyer, Louis Tomlinson, that he really isn't going insane.

Loosely based off the movie of the same name.

Insane by prideinlou

Words: 20k

Or in which Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are two dim-witted, drunk teenage boys that take a Halloween night dare too far, and end up in a life or death situation in the clutches of a haunted mental asylum.

Will they make it out alive... or will they go insane?

Mermaid

seaside improvisation by tinyweirdloves

Words: 6k

[harry is a mermaid who has lost his tail and he lives in louis's bathtub for a month.]

at least as deep as the pacific ocean (i wanna be yours) by writtensoul

Words: 9k

louis is the very entitled prince of the seven seas!! harry is a goofy sailor boy!!! a lot of hijinks ensue involving slippery mermaid tails and happy fun little sea creatures!!

Define Dancing by asphodelknox

Words: 20k

Death has a way of making certain things crystal clear. After Jay’s death, Louis returns to the summer cottage he always considered home. Unbeknownst to him, he’s also returning to the merman who has been his best friend through everything and finds that maybe there’s a chance for more.

Don't Let the Tide Come and Take Me by kiwikero

Words: 28k

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

Still Deep In Us by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 41k

AU. The village Harry has called home his entire life sits on six shaky legs, held aloft from the ocean which claimed the entire world twenty years ago. Harry's just a grieving tinkerer trying to do his best, and Louis is a mermaid that ruins The Village's delicate balance of power (and perhaps, just maybe, wins the heart of a boy).

Pirates

Captain Harry Styles... And The Faerie by spaceboyharry

Words: 8k

“You have today been defeated. Remember this forever as the day you were bested by Captain Harry Styles.” Louis zoomed past, shouting “AND THE FAERIE!” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “And the bloody faerie.”

must be something in the water by hattalove

Words: 3k

They all remember, somewhere deep down, why they gave up everything they had for the Mermaid.

The last vestiges of kindness and bravery and everything that is good in the world are on board that ship. Louis’s heart is on it, moored by some nameless jetty.

In Your Black Heart (Is Where You'll Find Me) by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 35k

Louis Tomlinson has been lying for five years. His crew sees him as a pirate, a Captain, and an alpha; only two of those are the truth. He was content to let the illusion go on forever, but an omega named Harry Styles just had to join his crew and get his warm-vanilla stink all over Louis' best laid plans.Or: the story of The Captain and The Carpenter.

Si Pudiera Volar by messofgorgeouschaos

Words: 68k

When Harry’s fiancé leaves him for his cousin, he looks the other way for the sake of his happiness. He’ll do anything to forget about him, including joining a monastery. It isn’t until his cousin’s former lover, a pirate, appears that he realizes everything is not as it appears, and an honest pirate might be the only person worthy of his heart.

Or, a fic loosely based on Corazon Salvaje.

Vampire

Call Me the End of Your World by captainsftlouis

Words: 3k

or, the vampire AU where Louis is addicted to vampire venom, and Harry is addicted to Louis.

Waiting On You: A Christmas Drabble by emma1234

Words: 5k

On their first Christmas Eve as a couple, Louis and Harry decide it would be a great idea to exchange one special gift with one another to mark a new tradition. Of course, things never go as smoothly as they planned.

I Wanna Do Bad Things With You by lesbianphrodite

Words: 7k

Harry goes to his favorite pub with the intention to drink and feel bad for himself after a terrible break-up. Instead, he ends up hitting it off with a handsome vampire.

Forever And Always by jacaranda_bloom

Words: 25k

OR the one where Harry’s neighbour is a crotchety old witch who hates vampires, Niall is the unsuspecting human who ends up inhabiting Harry’s body, and Louis is the caseworker who is assigned to swap them back. How it ends up a love story is anyone’s guess.

we should open up (before it's all too much) by disgruntledkittenface

Words: 43k

Struggling with grieving and depression since his dad died, Harry has never felt so alone. It’s too much to cope with on his own, but he feels like a burden when he tries to open up with people.

Then he meets Louis.

For You I'd Bleed Myself Dry by amomentoflove

Words: 49k

Harry is cold. His bones ache. Every movement draws a whimper from his cracked lips. The stone underneath him is practically like ice. He’s numb, but can clearly feel the sharp pains on his neck every timeHe visits him. Below the icy cold, the achy bones, and the pain on his neck, Harry Styles is pissed. There’s a fire burning in his mind and the anger for the man who keeps him imprisoned is the fuel. He despises him, the man who feeds from him and is a daily reminder that Harry’s suffering won’t end. The man who keeps Harry so weak that he can barely move most days. Harry’s waiting for the day when his owner will go too far and finally kill him. Death must be better than this cold hell he is in.

It won’t happen, though. He has a way of keeping Harry’s heart beating. So for now, all Harry can do is wait for death to come.

He’s been waiting for years.

Witches

what's inside your imagination (is as real as anything else) by suspendrs

Words: 3k

Or, Harry's a witch who likes to pretend he's a human pretending he's a witch, and Louis's the human in a not-so-clever costume that keeps catching his eye.

A Kind Of Magic by mellagreens

Words: 12k

Louis feels the urge to tell Harry he's in love with him.

Spellbound by lovelarry10

Words: 22k

Louis’ a shifter. Harry’s a witch. The only problem is, they’re hiding those things from each other.Will they be able to keep their secrets hidden at the most spooky time of year?

Call It True by abrighteryellow

Words: 48k

With dreams of being a successful novelist, Harry’s been working so hard that he almost doesn’t notice the smoothie shop that just opened down the street. But he can’t miss the mysterious, irresistible boy who works there, nor the strange but entirely positive effect his drinks seem to have. Harry needs to know what’s going on and he wants to get close to Louis, though not necessarily in that order.

A Spell and A Spark by dinosaursmate

Words: 73k

Louis is a teenage witch, living and attending university among mortals. He has to keep his secret whilst studying on both his degree and his witch's licence. His friends don't suspect a thing, even as spell after spell goes awry.

Our Place By The Moon by PearlyDewdrops

Words: 108k/WIP

Or: a late 90's urban fantasy AU in which Louis wants to befriend the strange boy next door, Harry is just trying to keep his family together, and falling in love is most inconvenient for a witch that may have accidentally reignited a centuries old curseꟷone that kinda messes with that.

#this is long #whoops #halloween fic rec #larry fic rec #larry fics #larry stylinson

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ozbian · 4 years

Text

Critters, it has been awhile since Travis' last TM ... so here's a bullet point summary of recent events

I know that a LOT of good good stuff happened last episode, but I don't want us to forget to ask about the older episodes!

(List is mostly cribbed from Critical Recap, tries to focus on major events and stuff most relevant to Fjord and Nott)

...

(Travis' last TM - post Ep 84, with Laura)

Ep 85 - The Threads Converge

Battle with the Inevitable End, following the assassination attempt on Caduceous in the previous episode

Pumat raises the possibility of dispel magic working on Yasha

Nott talks about how she feels wrong interacting with her family while disguised as Veth, and she doesn't feel like she's making a genuine connection

Confrontation with Gentleman about Jester's parentage. He denies it pretty coldly, Jester is upset, Cad smells something fishy

Fjord & the others comfort Jester

Caduceus manipulates the Gentleman by talking about his past and asking him to check on the Savalier Wood and his family

Nott and Beau tell each other about their crushes on Caleb and Jester Beau respectively

Jester confirms the Gentleman is her biological father and they have a sad and important conversation

Caleb disguises himself as Jester and collects her mail, they get Astrid's address

Jester scries on Yasha, they're in Rexxentrum

M9 port to Rexxentrum which is under Krynn attack

Caleb is back in Rexxentrum! He is not okay!

Caduceus is in the middle of a fuck-off massive city! He is also not okay, but less not okay than Caleb.

The M9 make their way through the krynn attack until they arrive at the temple.

Ep 86 - The Cathedral

Fight with the cultists and the Cardinal, Nott kills the Cardinal

Laughing Hand and Yasha arrive, Inevitable End also arrives, Yasha nearly kills Beau

Nott is mindwhammied

Yasha is freed!!!

Obann retreats taking Nott

Pumat Swole offers to stay behind to hold off the cultists while they chase Obann and the M9 reluctantly agree

Guilty short rest

Fjord says he'll take Yasha up on some of her grief and regret and hits her for 19 damage to regain 9 hp

The M9 eventually figure out how to get into the secret chambers

They find Nott awaiting their arrival, Caduceus dispels magic and frees her, Obann's attempted ambush fails and he disappears from sight until Fjord casts Faery Fire, Fjord gets mindwhammied and walked into one of the sacrifice pillars. Caduceus frees his mind but doesn't have enough movement left to get him out of the pillar, Fjord steps free next turn

Yasha gets the hdywtdt on Obann and rips off his wings

The M9 see Obann transformed into Punished form by his evil god ... there are tentacles and teeth and eyes

Ep 87 - Punishment and Politics

Caleb gets swallowed but he cool-ape mans out of it

Caduceus gets swallowed (again) and since everyone's shrouded in darkness no one knows

Beau goes down

Jester is down. No healers...

Fjord nearly takes Obann down

Kadogeist gets the hdywtdt!

Caduceus mass deals and offers to hug the Kadogheist...

Pumat is relatively okay but Nott gives him a potion

Fjord touches the Laughing Hand's body and it poofs into ash, he covers by saying "Let the winds take you to your place of rest" and Caduceus compliments him

M9 are held not under arrest and Caleb is not okay, Fjord checks in

Yasha is updated on happenings incl Fjord's voice change

Meeting with Dwendal (& Allura), Beau implies to Dwendal that she used M9 to get in with the Dynasty & specifically comments on traveling with goblins and half-orcs (and caduceus!) (clearly using the King's prejudice to manipulate him)

Dwendal threatens the M9 with treason against the empire notwithstanding half of them don't even go here?

Parlay with the Dynasty is possible!?

Trent is an asshole and the M9 form up protectively around Caleb when he approaches them

Ep 88 - Unwanted Reunions

Kameruth Cottage!

Fjord gives Yasha the book that Caleb gave to him : )

Caduceus inadvertently inspires the M9 to plot Trent's murder to keep Caleb safe

M9 also plot for world peace

Fjord and Clay talk about honesty and camouflage, and Clay gives him the Wild Mother symbol he crafted at the Force

Yasha dreams of the Storm Father

Meeting with Martinet Ludinus, Jester is charming af, Ludinus politely holds Yasha's potential prosecution over the M9

Meeting with Trent and Eodwulf, Caleb is not okay but he holds his own anyway, Nott fishes for info

Shopping for diamonds and bone instruments

Fjord wants a tournament

(Sam's last TM - post Ep 88, with Liam)

Ep 89 - Lingering Wounds

Downtime

Nott and Fjord continue to walk through the capital city of the Empire undisguised, Fjord proudly wearing his WM symbol

Yasha reads her book from Fjord

Jester messages people

Caleb takes Fjord and Nott by the academy and talks about his past

Beau does a deep lore dive into Empire history

Jester offers to help Fjord with his work out like Beau does, Fjord gives himself a hernia

Jester and Beau have an important conversation, Beau gives Jester Molly's tarot cards

Caleb goes off on his own and talks to Astrid

Fight Club!

Beau beats up a fit older guy

Fjord and Darrow fight with weapons, fjord using his new blade

Darrow remarks that Fjord's been getting into weird stuff, Darrow goes pretty hard and seems to feels a bit bad about it later, Caduceus doesn't cancel a crit, Fjord goes down, Darrow brings him back to consciousness and is too nice about winning, Fjord snaps at the healer who comes out to tend to him and goes to get a drink

Yasha intentionally gets beat into unconsciousness and tries to play it off, Caduceus and Jester are Concerned

Episode 90 - Bathhouses and Bastions

M9 plot and plan their day,

Fjord asks Beau about her workout routine and carb loading

Clay remarks that Trent was telling the truth very carefully

Fjord has a spa day, M9 are supportive, Jester offers up her hair growth solution to assist with his beard endeavours

To the library!

Jester looks into Molly's tarot deck, lore drop!

Clay tries to find out how he should comport himself at a Traveller Convention, there's not much there but he found out it's happening on the longest day of the year

Beau and Caleb go digging for info on uncovered beacon

Nott helps Caleb break through his research, he comments that Nott's husband is a lucky man, Nott checks in, she offers support with Astrid and Caleb doesn't tell her about his visit, long hug : )

Fjord meets up with the party after the spa and asks for feedback from the M9 who are complementary: -

Yasha: your skin looks quite beautiful

Clay: you're glowing

Jester: it looks like you've got a little stubble coming in there

Shopping, Yasha & Jester get their commissions

Traveller doesn't appear and Jester is worried

Group Spa Day!

Party meet up with Darrow, Jester invites him to the Bathhouse and Nott encourages this (is she trying to matchmake with Darrow and Fjord or did she think he was hot and want some eye candy or both or neither??

M9 bamph outta the Bathhouse to Xhorhas in bathrobes

Fjord insists on changing into his normal clothes while everyone else walks on as is - Caleb pranks Fjord using illusion

Meeting with Essek, he is in so deep with the M9, they plot

Dynasty has found a traitor, the Taskhand, Fjord disguises himself as Vence to try and get some info, dude was clearly under some kind of mind control

Meeting with BQ, Caleb is very eloquent, Clay is very honest, Nott is very intently staring at Yasha when the M9 talk about their unnamed formerly mindcontrolled friend, Yasha is very brave

Essek is in very deep with the M9

Essek is invited to dinner but declines : (

#critical role #talks machina #Fjord #Nott #mighty nein #Travis Willingham #Sam Riegel #Brian Foster #Dani Carr #is it tuesday yet?#q&a

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