false romantic lead: this is the love interest’s love interest; the person brought in, either for an episode or an arc, to date the one that the main character is in love with. the smitten character will be jealous, take an instant dislike to [them], and do whatever they can to sabotage the budding relationship. in many cases they exist solely to create tension and keep the lovers apart.
The throne room was a massacre. The throne room was where Prythian ended and a new force began. Feyre stood, her sword barely gripped in her right hand, blood slowly rolling down her skin.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she looked around the carnage that surrounded her. The High Lord of the Dawn Court was pinned to the wall, his mouth still open, his skin still glimmering. Feyre watched that light fade.
His wife and chosen soldiers decorated the floor with their golden blood, which carefully slithered across the floor. The Lady of the Dawn Court’s eyes were open, the golden orbs staring into space.
Feyre had never learned their names.
Kallias was lying down motionless, the blade in his back frozen over. His bright blue eyes seemed dull in comparison to a color Feyre once knew. His fingers were digging into the ice that painted the ground. In the process of crawling away from a force you can not out run: Death.
On top of him, as if in the last moments of her life she was determined to guard him, a female rested. Her back was arched, her own jagged blade sinking into her sternum. White blood stained her lips, her fingers curled helplessly around the metal.
Their own warriors were discarded and ruined around them, white and gold blood slowly swimming together, mixing like they were made to. It created a marble design, and slowly it swam to Helion.
Hellion’s golden tunic was stained with a vibrant red, brighter than any red Feyre had ever seen. She would have loved to paint with such a bright color. His beaded head piece was tossed from his head, laying on the ground, far away from the High Lord. If Feyre didn’t know any better, the High Lord could have just been sleeping. He still looked magnificent.
His wife lay beside him, those deep brown eyes forever unseeing. Her mouth opened in a scream the world would never hear again. The fiercest battle cry she had ever witnessed. Her crown still rested on her head, as if it knew it belonged there, even in death. Blood ran down her deep brown skin, and Feyre thought it was the most beautiful horror she had ever seen.
Warriors of the Day were thrown and destroyed around their High Lord and Lady, their bright red blood crawling across the throne room floor, until it met with the white and gold. Their deaths were brutal, yet undeniably stunning.
The blade fell from Feyre’s fingers, clattering against the ground, when her eyes saw Tarquin. Young, brave, fearless Tarquin. She should have let him alone after she had betrayed him in his own Court. She should have never involved him in this.
Tarquin’s white hair was matted with blood, his eyes peacefully closed. He was crumpled on his side, his body broken in several ways. Of all of them, he had fought the hardest. Feyre wished his eyes were open, so she could see that blue one last time.
A male warrior had fallen on top of Tarquin, his body resting over the High Lord’s long legs. His left arm was reaching out, only a few inches from Tarquin’s unmoving fingertips.
In their last seconds, the lovers had reached for one another. Feyre saw Varian and Cresseida amongst the Summer Court Fae who had fought bravely. Blood swam down Cresseida’s arms, her eyes glazed over. Varian’s own sword had betrayed him in the end, lodged in the Fae’s chest.
She nearly staggered to the side when she saw Lucien’s bright red hair.
His good eye was closed, his scarred eye staring at the far wall. Feyre had a sick feeling that Lucien could still see with that eye, even as he lay there, stone still. He was horrible to look at. Her friend, dead, gone, brave, but gone.
Unnamed Autumn Court warriors had died by their High Lord’s side. Had accepted him as their rightful High Lord, had given her friend love, compassion, strength, everything she could not. And Feyre couldn’t even bother to learn their names. Faes with dark skin, natural tans, or olive undertones had died for Lucien, for a ray of hope. Their red hair, brown hair, golden hair, all soaked in blood; their blood. And all of their veins, empty of that raging fire. They had given that power up the moment they fell to the ground.
The ends of Tamlin’s golden air was soaked in his own blood. Feyre stared at him, blood slowly trailing down her face, sliding down her cheeks, dripping off her nose. She knew she was covered in it. White, blue, red, and other colors alike.
He looked peaceful.
Like he was waiting for someone.
Feyre’s knees began to tremble as she looked closer to her. The bodies created a path, a path to her. She swallowed a lump in her throat when she saw Elain and Nesta. Nesta with her burned hands, Elain with her tranquil face.
Feyre wanted to collapse when she saw Azriel. His wings were bent against his back, a siphon cracked and broken, scattered across the floor, never to hum and glow again.
Feyre looked at her friend, someone she would have called a brother, someone who would never breathe again. Cladded in Illyrian leathers, Azriel had gone down with a fight, Feyre knew that much.
And so had his brother. Cassian, collapsed by Azriel’s side, motionless. His wings were gone from his back, once again. Feyre knew one thing. In death, Cassian deserved his wings more than anyone else. Fate was a cruel, wicked thing. His siphons were also cracked, broken, and gone.
Another male she would never be able to call brother.
Female Illyrians surrounded the two warriors. Wings. A sea of wings, all broken, tattered, torn, or simply gone. It was a sea of destruction, a sea of pain. Feyre blinked, and she saw another blonde head.
Blood still seeped from Mor’s stomach and Feyre pressed a shaky hand against her mouth. Her blonde hair was pressed against her face, her brown eyes open, positioned on Azriel. He was the last thing she saw.
Amren, her firedrake friend, their last hope in the seemingly impossible war, was just as dead as the rest of them. Silver blood still poured from her neck, her silver eyes on the ceiling. Silver painted her and Feyre thought it was fitting. She sparkled like one of her beloved gems.
She hoped her friend was back home, back with those who she loved and loved her.
Feyre’s eyes drooped closed, then she forced them to open. She forced herself to look at the body at her feet. Her heart laid bare before her, crushed and broken, never to beat again.
Her mate, her husband, her High Lord. His violet eyes so dark, not nearly as light and glowing as she remembered them. Her everything, her salvation; the one she saved, the one who had saved her. Broken and dead.
The realization hit her hard. Rhysand was dead. Feyre finally fell, her head hitting the smooth floor. She moved one last time, determined to hold Rhysand’s hand. Determined never to die alone again.
Her fingers clasped around his and Feyre looked up, letting loose a shuddering breath as she saw the King, skewered on his throne. His head thrown back, his body lifeless, all that power, gone.
Unmade and Made; Made and Unmade - that is the cycle. Like calls to like. The Book of Breathings had warned her. The Book had warned her of the price. The Book had told her she was the princess of carrion. If only she had listened, truly listened.
For something to be Unmade then Made, something had to be Made then Unmade. For Feyre to hold the power of all the High Lords, it was fitting they should all be destroyed. Her eyes fluttered and the King wavered in her vision, as the Cauldron toppled over.
The water raced across the floor, washing away blood in its wake, drowning the Fae in its cold grasp. It swam closer and closer to her, seemingly hissing and cackling. Soon, it soaked her, head to toe, along with her mate and her friends.
Together, the deaths of the High Lords, they had Unmade Prythian. Feyre saw a figure in the doorway, their bare feet slick with the Cauldron’s water. The water began to shimmer, carrying the seven High Lord’s magic as well as the King’s through the liquid.
Feyre heard a faint thumping, as if the figure had fled. Her eyes finally closed, she finally slipped away. She could only hope the Cauldron had chosen correctly; chosen someone to end this cycle.
She would be the last to be Made.
And with her, Prythian would be the last to be Unmade.
This fic is for kazliin, who is an incomparable goddess and responsible for the amazing Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches, one of the best yuri on ice fanfics. It’s been a wild ride these past few months, and everything you gave us, we want to give back, in as many ways as we can. I hope you like this, and everything else we’ve made you <3 <3 <3
i wrote this in between Chapter 13 and 14, so a lot of it got spectacularly jossed. but by the time chapter 14 came out i had already written 4k of it OTL. it seems a shame not to put it out, if only to show kaz that her fic has been pushing us to create and produce even before UMFB officially ended.
EDIT: it’s kazliin’s birthday today, and i only found out! happy birthday kaz and thanks for everything in the rivals verse you are a gift.
a quiet life, a lonely life, a loving life
Summary: Morooka has been following Yuuri’s career. He doesn’t plan to stop.
Your name was Sophia, and you had no idea how you ended up in this mess.
You came from a small town in New Jersey, near the shore but not near
enough to be surrounded by homes that were reserved only for summer
vacations. You considered yourself average, as far as people go, so the
fact that you’d just been ‘abducted’ by aliens was more than shocking to
you. Sure, you knew Earth had established connections with other
lifeforms, it had been all over the news when NASA made contact with
some aliens who had been traveling around in search for allies in some
intergalactic war they were facing, but you never thought that you’d
suddenly be swept up from your home to act as ambassador for the human
race. You were barely qualified, as far as you were concerned.
That’s not what they thought,
though. Most of the world’s governments had been negotiating peace with
these foreign beings for quite some time, but in order for Earth to be
seen as a proper ally to their new friends, a human was meant to come
with them. Many had offered themselves up, but the alien’s leader
refused. They demanded they pick out someone themselves, only this way
could they make sure the ambassador was fit for the job they needed them
You’d been in school when the aliens came. Under orders
of the government, your school orchestrated an assembly for all of those
turning who were or were turning 18 within the next 6 months. The
aliens wanted someone young and willing to learn, but not so young that
they’d be immature. They’d also mentioned they were looking for someone
with strength, for the job of being an ambassador was not easy. The idea
of space travel was more than enough to keep you interested in their
investigations, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to leave Earth. You
were almost out of high school, you’d been accepted into a college
already, and you were looking forward to building your own future. The
fear of not being able to live a normal, happy life was the only thing
holding you back from outright saying you were interested in the
position…but then again, you didn’t think you’d be picked in the first
place, do you didn’t worry much.
That was, until the actual
assembly. You sat in your chair, trying to keep your cool as your
principle introduced the leader of the aliens you’d heard so much about.
You couldn’t hold back the gasp that went through you when you actually
saw him, though.
He was huge, and barely humanoid. He resembled
something like a centaur, if a centaur’s lower half was made of a 6
legged insect. His skin was a darkish green color, with silver-grey eyes
and dark black hair to match. You could also knew he bore insect-like
wings on his back thanks to the internet, but they were currently hidden
under some very intricate clothes he wore. Much of his attire was made
up of darker green and blue colors, accented by silver jewelry and a
simple crown-like band to match on his forehead. Not only was he
stunning, but he was very, very intimidating.
name is Orotorco, 9th leader of the planet you call ‘Spade 8H2’.” His
voice, while deep and booming, was obviously not used to using English.
He had problems pronouncing his own planet name, and was having even
more trouble trying to seem welcoming. You sensed he wasn’t trying to be
threatening, and something in you relaxed. If he was making a genuine
effort to be kind, you doubt he could be that bad of a person.
“As your principle just said, me and my kin are on a hunt for a
representative for your kind. Only when one is found, can our alliance
be made strong. We have worked in tandem with your kind to find someone
suitable, and we have concluded that someone from this area would best
for the job.” He explained, “My daughter, the next ruler of my planet
will decide who comes with us, for she will be the one you will have to
work with every step of the way.”
Your eyes drifted to the
side of the stage as another alien stepped into view. Much like her
father, she was large and spider-like, but she was bluer in color and
sported some short, pointed horns from her forehead. She wore blue and
purple clothing with white accents, much more simple than her father’s
attire. You were far away from the stage, so you couldn’t see it
clearly, but you’re sure you saw silver rings around her neck,
establishing her role as royalty.
She came to the microphone,
her voice just as uncertain as her father’s when it came to speaking
English. “My name is Uros, next leader-to-be. I will be assessing
potential representatives based off of poise, strength, grace, and
talent. I hope you don’t mind me asking questions throughout this
You won’t lie, her voice was like honey to you.
While it was clear she was nervous, you felt something warm blossom in
your stomach as she gazed over the crowd. It was clear you weren’t the
only one, however, many seemed more at ease after she showed up.
After a few more words of encouragement and explanation, your principle
dismissed you back to your classes. Uros would be drifting between
classes, observing how students worked and questioning those who she
thought would fit. It was almost the end of the school-day when she
entered your math class. You held your breath as she made her way over
to your desk, starring curiously at your paper. You felt embarrassed, to
say the least, since your worksheet was barely finished. Instead, it
was filled with doodles, making your paper seem messy.
“What are these?” She asked, her voice filled with an innocent curiosity.
“They’re…um, doodles. I’m bored, so I decided to draw instead.” You
replied. You were sure you were beet red, too afraid to look her in the
She hummed contemplatively. “Are you allowed to doodle on your papers?”
“Well…not exactly. It’s not encouraged.”
“I see…” Uros seemed to be deep in thought. “Come with me for a second.”
Your head shot up. “Huh?”
“I want to ask you some more questions, but I don’t want to stall your
class. Won’t you follow me?” She elaborated, looking slightly worried.
“…Sure, that’s ok, I think.” You followed her out of the classroom,
where somebody else waited. You could only assume they were a bodyguard,
since they were covered in dark grey-black robes and holding something
resembling a spear. Once the door was closed, she began asking more
“What’s your name, human?”
“Did you chose that yourself?”
“No, my parents did.”
“Oh, how odd.” She seemed to lean closer, checking out your facial
features. “Usually around the age of 3, my kind picks their own names.
We’re born nameless.”
You could only nod as a cool hand tilted
your head to the side, then traced your jaw. You did your best not to
seem uncomfortable, but Uros seemed to notice anyway.
“You’re very stiff. Are you ok?”
Your tongue felt thick, her eyes filled with concern. “Y-yeah, sorry. Not used to this kind of thing.”
“I guess not.” She replied, “Tell me, how much do you like your life here on Earth?”
“It’s…ok. I have a family that cares and good enough grades to get me a
good job. I don’t really have a lot of friends, but other people like
me enough to talk to me. I’m not unhappy with it.”
“It sounds peaceful here.”
“Compared to other places, yeah. It can be boring, though.”
That seemed to startle her, for some reason. “Boring?”
You shrugged, “Yeah. I like it here, it’s nice and I’m never in danger,
but there’s nothing to do. We have the beach and sometimes new people
pass through, but it’s not like anything really cool is going on. Unless
you count the fact that you guys decided to show up.”
seemed perplexed by this, unsure what to say. The final bell rang out in
the halls, releasing students from their classes. You were about to
turn around when she called out your name.
“When you get home, pack what you need to travel on a long journey. I’m picking you to be the human representative.”
didn’t get the time to ask any questions, though. Before you knew it,
she was gone, and you were being pushed to the front of the school by
the oncoming stamped of students, rushing to get home.
Telling your parents was difficult. You were an only child, and your
parents were very scared of losing you. It got even worse when a
government agent swung by to give you a list of things to pack, as well
as some other items you couldn’t normally buy without some sort of
clearance. These items included a gun, a handbook about intergalactic
politics (for dummies!), a small list of emergency numbers that would
get you in contact with NASA over long distances, and a phone that was
specifically made for your position. A regular phone wouldn’t function
once off the Earth, so this one was built just with high-tech
modifications so it would last. Despite this, it looked practically
normal, a lot like an IPhone, in fact.
It wasn’t long after that
Uros and Orotorco came to pick you up. Orotorco seemed genuinely sorry
for your parents, trying to comfort them by assuring them you’d be well
taken care of. You watched numbly as some bodyguards carried out your
luggage, all of them in a unifying black uniform. You only snapped out
of your dazed state when you felt that familiar cool hand on your back,
Uros looking at you with worry.
“This won’t be forever…right? I can come back to visit?”
She nodded, “Yes, you’re not our prisoner or anything. You’re free to
return here when your duties don’t keep you from doing so.”
it was finally time to go, you gave your parents a final parting
goodbye and followed Uros onto a small ship of sorts. You felt tears
well up as you looked out the window during takeoff, your mother curled
into your father’s chest with grief.
You simply could not believe this was happening.
Orotorco’s booming voice caught your attention, seeming to sense your sadness.
“Sophia, is it?” He asked, “I promise we will do everything we can to make you feel at home here. You’re our only hope.”
“Why, though?” You asked back, “Why not someone else, like an actual diplomat.”
just sighed. “It’s complicated, you see. It has to do a lot with
physical makeup, as well as personality and upbringing. We couldn’t pick
anyone. It seems out of all of the people Uros surveyed, you were the
only one who met the standards we need in a representative.”
Your mind took this all in slowly. Was it really that specific?
“….Ok, so what do I have to do, exactly?”
“Right! I completely forgot to tell you about that, didn’t I? Me and my
kin only chose one ally per generation, so this is a very sought out
position by many other species of alien.” He explained, seeming a bit
more cheerful. “You will speak on behalf of your planet when working
with us, and when the time is right, you will help bring the next
generation of my kin into the world.”
You paused for a minute. “Wait, back up. What does that last part mean? ‘Bring the next generation of kin into the world’?”
Orotorco seemed confused, “Ambassadors usually bear children for royalty on my planet. Is it not the same on Earth?”
“No, not at all!” You said, alarm clear in your voice. “Where did that come from?”
“A government agent you spoke to was supposed to brief you on this…I’m afraid there may have been a miscommunication.”
Your head spun as you thought about it. You didn’t want kids! Who was
even going to be the father? How was this going to work? They were
bug-like and huge in comparison to you…
“Who….Who is my partner.”
Uros spoke up in her usual honey-like voice, seeming a bit embarrassed herself.
It was too much. Without as much as a second thought, you fell over,
your world going dark in a matter of seconds as both Uros and Orotorco
called out to you. The last thing you remember is cool hands supporting
your body, begging you to stay awake.
(Chapter 1- End)
My name is O, and this is my first fic being submitted here. This is
defiantly going to be multi-chapter, but I promise there will be some
good pregnancy/oviposition shit going on up in here! Next chapter should
come out soon, I’m a pretty quick writer.
My NSFW blog is or-beez, but its pretty empty rn. Feel free to hmu there if you want though!
The small gym is packed to the
rafters. Large men with shifty eyes and one hand firmly tucked inside their
pockets, women with anxious eyes and one hand placed firmly over their hearts,
meek men with bruised skin and one hand clutching a betting slip because their
lives depend on it; they’re all together, they’re all waiting. And you’re
sitting there among them, one hand gripping the silver chain around your neck
and the other clutching the edge of your seat.
The copper tang of blood fills
the air and mixes with the musk of men from fights past. You’re almost certain
there’s a noxious cloud floating above the crowd from the cigarettes and the
bottles scattered around the room. It’s a cesspool, filthy and disgusting, but
you don’t dare move a muscle.
Members of the crowd are
watching the entrances, waiting for the prize fighters to enter. The main event
is all that’s left, all of the other men have bloodied their fists and earned
their week’s salary. But your eyes are glued to the small blue stool in one
corner of the ring.
Title: Unbearable Distance [pt2] Pairing: Prince Sidon/Reader [you] Summary: The fear of Sidon’s presence being known grew with each attempt to thwart him from visiting you. You figured his persistence had to be a princely attribute.
a/n: finally! here’s part two to unbearable distance. if all goes according to plan there will be up to two more parts for this. we shall see.
requests are still open. i hope that you enjoy reading this! i would greatly appreciate feedback!
Under any other circumstances, the sight of your unconscious sister with her limbs sprawled across the beige sands of the shoreline would had struck you with a twisted sense of delight, yet you felt nothing of the sort presently. The young woman’s ear-splitting screech would be enough to deter even the mightiest of beasts, the most brazen of foes, and then reduce common folk to a quivering mess.
It would be a surprise if the whole village hadn’t been alerted that something was amiss, or at the very least to her. Hylia bless her, as much as you cherished your sister, she didn’t have much of a backbone to keep her upright in times of terror. Although you could say that you were currently experiencing a tangible amount of what she usually did at any moment she was startled.
You trudged across the short expanse of sand, driftwood, and jagged stone to where she laid, digging your knees into the soggy ground as you lifted her until she sat upright and thumbed across the narrow gash on her temple. She definitely had earned it in her graceful collapse.
“Gracious! I didn’t expect for her to react like that. I only thought to introduce myself as your lover.”