I'm struggling to finish my Blade wips so have this for today. Inspired by my interest in historical Chinese dramas (forgive me for my limited knowledge), Im writing this at 12am please don't mind me with the grammar mistakes etc thank you
WC: 1000 ish
Warnings: blade x fem! reader, NOT proofread!
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Emperor Blade who picks you during the wife selection stage. You, a middle-class woman with a clan that is neither too powerful nor weak, just ok. You, who compared to the many beauties with influence and high political power, are just average. But that doesn't matter to him as he calmly picks you from the list of candidates, dumbfounding his advisors and court members.
Emperor Blade who only picked a wife because of the pressure his court was putting on him. In his thundering dominant reign of purging corruption and enemies, he had never considered being married even once. Marriage to him was an inconvenience and an unnecessary contract to sign.
Emperor Blade who keeps you at an arm's length, treating you just right so it's not controversial yet keeping you so distant that your only companion is your right handmaid. He doesn't speak much to you, and your conversations are short and out of formality. You barely see much of him as he spends most of his day running the nation and the times he is free he rarely visits you.
Emperor Blade who frankly doesn't care what you do or say, as long as you let him be and don't cause trouble. You're merely a pawn in his eyes, a pawn to get everyone to shut up and let him reign however he wants without interfering, that is -until you're pulled into the games of politics.
Emperor Blade whose eyes are raging with a fire his court members have never seen when a faction decides to take advantage of the awkwardness of your marriage and hurt you. He has never liked innocent people being involved in the deception and web of lies of politics. The anger in his voice followed by the withdrawal of his sword makes everyone present cower with fear as they rush to cease his anger so they can save their own heads.
Emperor Blade who works tirelessly at night to figure out who had dared to poison you so shamelessly without any consequences, his jawline clenched and knuckles white as he looks through all his reports to find the mole within the palace walls. Despite saying he doesn't have time for you before, he finds a way to visit you when you're unconscious in your bed, holding your hand as he looks over your peaceful face. Your touch is comforting yet foreign and despite his initial reservations, he finds himself wanting more.
Emperor Blade who rushes over to your chambers when he's informed that you're awake so he can see you for himself and breathe a sigh of relief. There is a twinkle in his eyes that you have never seen before but in your weak state, you shrug it off as your imagination. He swears to find the ones who have hurt you and promises to keep you safe. The tiny smile he shows you has you flabbergasted for the rest of the day.
Emperor Blade who does not hesitate to execute the perpetrators publicly as a warning for everyone to see, to fear the consequences of what would happen if anyone even thought about hurting his wife, his empress. He makes sure you're not watching so he doesn't subject you to the brutality of his role as the emperor. To him, he does not find the need to scare you with his powers. He does not want you to fear him.
Emperor Blade who is slowly but surely falling in love with you. You find yourself welcoming him into your chambers more and more as he drinks tea and chit chats about his interests with you, something you were confused by at first but now have become accustomed to. He loves how you eagerly listen to him and offer your opinions if asked while making sure he's comfortable in your space.
Emperor Blade, who swore to never fall in love, has his heart beating faster and faster whenever he sees you, his breath hitching in his throat when you pass by him in the halls wearing your beautiful gowns. Your scent is intoxicating and he finds himself addicted to you, unable to get enough of you.
Emperor Blade who asks you to accompany him to the pavilion to admire the moon one day. He asks you to wear your favourite gown and says nothing more, leaving you confused but curious. You comply as you meet him in front of your palace, shyly smiling as he admires you.
Emperor Blade who takes your hand into his own, causing you to gasp as the public display of affection. His grip is firm and unwavering, a sign that he doesn't plan to let go. He dismisses his guards and your maids, leaving only you two alone as you both walk to the pavilion and stare at the night sky. The moon is bright and beautiful today with stars that twinkle in the sky like jewels.
Emperor Blade who pulls you into his arms, lifting ur chin with one hand as he looks into your eyes. "You're beautiful", he murmurs causing you to blush. The faint redness of your cheek makes him chuckle as he draws closer. Your noses are touching and your hearts thumping.
Emperor Blade who before only viewed you as a pawn, an inconvenience and a waste of time, now looks at you endlessly as he flicks his gaze back and forth between your lips and your eyes, asking for silent permission as his grip on your waist tightens and the gap between you two closes.
Emperor Blade who asked you to keep your distance from him now closes the distance between you both with a kiss, a kiss that washes away every painful thing he had said to you before. The winds of the night embrace the both of you at this moment as if it were a sign of acceptance from nature itself, a thumbs up almost.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
There’s promise in the air
Read on AO3 | Read on Fanfiction
Trick or Treat: Treat
Rating: T
Leia’s told Han that Luke is her brother, but there’s a lot more to her family history and her powers that she needs to share. Including the fact that Darth Vader was something worse than a Sith lord. AU that takes place during ROTJ, the night of the Endor celebration.
Written as a Treat for the 2022 @hanleiacelebration Tricks and Treats Halloween event. Prompt: AU of your favorite supernatural show or movie. (Basically a very loosely interpreted Blade AU, mostly involving bits from Blade’s origin story.)
- the gd catboys (times like, five, because I can’t pick a spot to focus on) (we’re getting closer and closer to having a beginning/something actually shareable! i know nobody gives a shit about this one but you’re getting it anyway!)
- phil/techno/blade time travel self-cest (because i’ve got a song that gives me feelings about it and i finally have some idea where it’s going)
- a w/p/t followup to katy’s dehumanized!phil (no promises, but we’ve had a lot of feelings about it this week.)
- a not-even-a-little-horny followup to the q/p/t fic. (i’ve got a lot of feelings about quackity, okay?)
things running around in my head (but that don’t have docs yet):
- soft techza 5 (yes, you animals, it’s the wingkink edition; haven’t touched soft techza in a while but the thoughts are Still There)
- something actually horny in the q/p/t ‘verse.
- the followup to the rutfic (where phil is submissive and breedable)
Barry knew what he was doing was against all he was raised and trained to hate, but when he first met Drake, who he’d taken to calling Mick so his fellow hunters wouldn’t know, it was love at first fight. No one would understand, hell at first he couldn’t himself, but after he’d willingly given himself over to the first vampire. What should have been disgusting and horrifying was filled with love and kindness, one he thought vampires had forgotten. Torn between protecting his boyfriend and protecting his friends/family Barry has to make a choice of being a hunter or being the lover to a vampire. Slowly as his worlds collide Barry finds himself huddled in Mick’s arms with fear of betraying both him and his friends.
Notes: This first part of the Bladescream AU (that is, the Blade AU featuring Starscream because wow he’d hate it) was written in its entirety by @editoress. I’m not claiming it as my own, but it must be posted here because it is, in fact, the beginning.
And what a wonderful beginning it is.
I.
They always called the newest boy Brat. New recruits were usually around ten, and given where the Grand Master got his Blade candidates, the title was usually well earned. Starscream himself had been described as some combinations of phrases that most adults tried not to use around young boys, much less about them.
No matter how much of a brat he’d been, he did not believe that meant he deserved his record time of serving three months as the resident Brat. It had been torture. But he had survived it, and the years that came after. Now, after fifteen years of struggles and training, he was the next in line, and the current brat was coming through the mess hall straight toward him.
Beside him, Knockout arched his eyebrows meaningfully. “What do you think?”
Starscream tried to appear unaffected, but he couldn’t wholly contain his anticipation. "There is a war on, Knockout.”
“Meaning you think the king needs more Blades?”
“Infer as you will,” Starscream returned, watching Brat’s progress carefully.
Sure enough, the boy reached their table and bowed. "Prime, Second,” he greeted, tilting his head to Starscream and Knockout in turn.
"Speak up, Brat,” Knockout drawled. "We can’t hear you when you mutter at the floor.”
The boy straightened so quickly that he rocked back on his heels. "The Grand Master has summoned you!”
Starscream exchanged a glance with Knockout and knew that his eyes gleamed even more viciously than the Second’s. Starscream stood, chin up, and strode out of the mess hall. Knockout spoke briefly with Breakdown—only fair, since he would be Second to Knockout’s Prime once Starscream was one of the royal guard—and followed him out.
“A shame you didn’t get to be Prime very long,” Knockout commented.
“I can only assume the king was told of my talent,” Starscream all but purred. "There is a certain demand, you know.”
Knockout waved a hand. "You can have it. If the king keeps giving us away to favored nobles like this, I’m bound to end up with a cushy job guarding some low-end duke or other.”
“A private Blade?” Starscream sneered. "What part of doing all the work yourself and getting none of the glory for it appeals to you?”
His Second laughed. "What work? I’ll be spending my days at feasts and lounges if I’m bound to the right peacock.”
Starscream scoffed but had no more time to reply; they had reached the Grand Master’s office. Starscream straightened as much as possible and entered.
The Grand Master was an impossibly broad man with an eye patch over an expressionless face. There was no chance at all of reading him. He glanced at the candidates and then turned to the far corner of the room. "I present your future Blade and our Second.”
Starscream affected a smirk and turned to his new royal ward.
His new not-royal ward.
The king was a notorious warrior in his own right, a bear of a man. Starscream had seen him a few times when he came to claim more Blades for the royal guard. Despite his size and obvious strength, there was a precision to his movements, and his eyes gleamed with intelligence. Whether standing or sitting, he took up the whole room.
The woman sitting before Starscream didn’t even take up the whole chair.
"Lady Melody of Westfire,” the Grand Master said flatly. "Your new ward, Prime.”
Starscream gritted his teeth, but he did manage a bow to the woman. For her part, she gazed curiously at him. There was enough calculation in her eyes that he understood that he was a royal gift to her, and she was taking his measure.
Damn! Damn, damn, damn!
"Lady Melody, this is Sir Starscream, one of our finest,” the Grand Master continued.
Even the miracle of a compliment from the Grand Master couldn’t lift his mood. Lady Melody offered, “A pleasure to meet you.”
“And you,” Starscream managed at the same moment that Knockout said, “The pleasure is all ours.”
“Do you have any questions before we prepare for the binding ceremony?” the Grand Master asked.
Lady Melody narrowed her eyes at him, and Starscream narrowed his eyes right back at her, putting some effort into not scowling. "No,” she decided.
Starscream only had one question, but it wasn’t one he felt the Grand Master would take kindly to.
Why her?
“Stop sulking.”
Starscream hunched his shoulders over the rampart he was leaning on but otherwise ignored the Second. Knockout joined him anyway, folding his arms smoothly over the stone. “It’s hardly legendary Blade behavior,” he added.
“I am not sulking,” Starscream retorted. “I am contemplating my future, which if you haven’t noticed just took a horrific dive into tedious anonymity.”
“Trade you.”
Starscream rolled his eyes. Knockout had been this way for as long as they had known each other. “Unlike you, Knockout, my ambition is not limited to moderate comfort.”
“And unlike you, I’m not blind to everything but my own goals.”
Starscream scowled. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Knockout’s eyebrows ascended. “Perhaps you’d feel better about your fate if you took a good look at your ward.”
“I can always trust you to remember your priorities, Knockout,” Starscream sneered. “Who cares whether she tickles your fancy? She’s minor nobility at best. In all likelihood I’ll never even draw my sword.”
Knockout spread his hands with a sigh. “You know I’d take this terrible burden from you if I could.”
“If only,” Starscream grumbled. After he left for his distinctly unglamorous life, Knockout would be Prime—and whoever came next with a need for a Blade would get him. Starscream bitterly hoped it wouldn’t be the king. “Just skewer me.”
Knockout patted his shoulder. “Let’s save that for the ritual.”
Starscream had witnessed a hundred binding rituals and taken part in more than a few of them. All the candidates had the ceremony drilled into their heads from the time they arrived as brats. Every part of it was rote. It was a complex spell that required the summoning of all eight elements. Fortunately, the Grand Master recited most of it, but at this point Starscream could have said it himself.
Even so, when he arrived to find everything ready for him, he was so twitchy that he could barely unbutton his doublet. As he stripped to the waist, he shot furtive glances at the assembled casters. Familiar faces took up the corners of the physical elements, including Breakdown standing stolidly at earth. The Grand Master was pinning him with an unnerving one-eyed stare from the place of time, and Knockout lounged across from the Grand Master to represent chance. Starscream refused to look at where he knew Lady Westfire stood at love.
But he did cast a wary look at his own place: death.
He flexed his fingers uselessly as Knockout marked him with charcoal. The Second, who only came up to his shoulder anyway, put two fingers on his sternum and expertly measured to the side to smudge the skin just over his heart. With an unwelcome smirk, Knockout resumed his place.
The air hummed as the ritual began. Starscream tried to watch the Grand Master, Dreadwing, Brat, anyone else, but it couldn’t be helped that his ward was standing right across from him, and she was holding the only part of this whole disaster that he could still look forward to.
Whenever a Prime was bound, the Blade blacksmiths forged him his perfect sword. And this was Starscream’s: a long, thin saber, nearly a rapier, curved ever so slightly at the end. It was thin enough to pierce like a needle and just stout enough to execute deadly slashes without bending to the force behind them. He had been assured it was perfectly balanced to his grip. With this sword, he would be faster and deadlier than ever. His perfect match.
He tried to focus on the sword when it was his time to come forward. He took three long strides into the center of the ceremony. He had to look at the sword—not her wrists, not her hips behind it. And he would not do the Blades the dishonor of looking her in the eye so she could see how distasteful he found this assignment, at least not during the ritual itself. Certainly not where the Grand Master could see.
“I pledge to be your Blade,” Starscream recited, and his voice shot up at least two octaves. His mouth twisted, and it was only too likely that his face was blood red, but he continued. “Your sword against danger, your shield against harm. By steel and honor and flame I will live for your safety.”
Breakdown and a junior member stepped forward to hold his arms, and Lady Melody approached him. Her part in the ritual was short and simple. She ought to have been grateful he didn’t favor the broadsword, small as she was. Fortunately, she could lift the weapon without straining—and she did not hesitate to do so. Clearly, this was no court-bound noble who would faint at the sight of blood. She brought the sword up so that the point aligned with the charcoal smudge Knockout had put on his chest. When she was in place, both hands on the hilt, she looked up at him.
Starscream’s eyes met hers of blazing blue. For a moment, she was poised like a predator behind the blade. Her stance was lined with power; the set of her shoulders was command. For a moment, she was as overwhelming and regal as the king himself.
And it was with steel in her voice that she said the only words the ritual required of her: “Serve or die.”
Starscream’s lips parted, though whether he planned to say anything he didn’t know—but in that instant she lunged forward, and pain exploded through him. He arched backward and his mouth jerked open to suck in a breath. Just as quickly, she slid the sword back out. Blades crowded around him to catch him as he fell forward, coughing. Starscream touched the wound—already healed, with just a little blood to stain his fingers.
Where was Lady Melody?
Starscream’s gaze snapped up and raked over the faces around him, but he was surrounded by Blades; she was nowhere to be seen. He stood to his full height, which was considerable. The Grand Master seemed to understand what he needed (though Starscream himself couldn’t have said) and stood aside, gesturing for the others to do the same.
Lady Melody was standing apart from the group of Blades. Her hands were empty; someone had taken the sword from her. And she was perfectly all right. Starscream looked her up and down, twice, just to be sure. It was as if by looking at her he was centering his own world, like she was north.
Damn! Fiery, flaming damn!
Starscream did not like her. In fact, he was furious at her for denying him his chance of making the royal guard. He would rather take a beating than shake her hand.
But he never wanted her out of his sight again.
Damn!
The binding ritual was a sacred part of being a Blade, but there wasn’t much ceremony beyond that. Court convention dictated that a noble present any new Blade to the king as soon as they could. Most did not dawdle. Lady Melody was ready to get underway almost at once, and Starscream found he felt best a pace behind her and slightly to her right. But he did move ahead to open the door of her carriage.
She smiled at him, those lightning-blue eyes half-lidded and inscrutable. “Offer me a hand up, Sir Knight?”
In a fit of annoyance, Starscream climbed in and slammed the door shut behind him. The carriage furnishings were small for him, and he ended up sitting with his knees jammed up against the opposite seat.
Lady Melody followed a moment later, still smiling. Starscream didn’t like it. “Interesting,” she said. She fit perfectly on the bench.
“If you were expecting an obedient slave, you should have tried a different kind of conjuration,” he snapped.
She shook her head. “It’s better this way. So what did this conjuration do?”
What it had done was make Starscream’s skin itch for the brief seconds when they were separated by the carriage door, but he would sooner cut out his tongue than admit it. He waved his hand. “The bond compels a Blade to protect their ward.”
“From what?”
Starscream stared at her. “The sort of thing you would need a swordsman for, I imagine,” he sneered.
“How useful,” Lady Melody retorted, tone indecipherable. Starscream got the feeling she was making fun of what she saw as limited practicality and opted to spend the rest of the journey scowling out the window.
Half a day of sullen silence brought them both to the palace. Lady Melody moved through it as surely as if she ruled there. Something about her made passersby get out of her way, and it was all too easy to stalk along in her wake. Starscream could examine everyone who came too close to her and still had time to drink in their surroundings. The Blades had taught him all about courtly politics and the ways of the palace, but Starscream had lived most of his life—all of it that mattered—in Ironhall. Still, his awe was tempered by bitterness. He wondered whether Lady Melody lived here in the capital or if he would be forced to winter in some dull country estate when the court season ended.
The closer they came to the throne room, the more Blades there were. Some trailed after nobles, as he did, but some strolled freely. They clearly had some purpose, but their attention was not on any ward that Starscream could see.
Lady Melody glanced at him over her shoulder and slowed. Starscream reluctantly caught up to her. “You don’t happen to know anything about when Blades are presented to the king, do you?” she asked.
“No,” Starscream replied flatly, in lieu of And how the blazes am I supposed to know?
“Ah.” Her gaze darted to the approaching archway of the throne room. “Then let’s play it safe. In and out as quickly as we can manage—politely.”
“Fine by me,” Starscream grumbled.
He did not have time to gear himself up for a humiliation before the next one found him. One of the Blades standing at the open doorway to the throne room, a bulky, serious man, saw him and lit up with recognition.
Thundercracker! Starscream felt he had the worst flaming luck in the kingdom. Thundercracker had been a few years ahead of him at Ironhall. Starscream had looked up to him immensely, and later he had been a friend. Now Thundercracker was commander of the royal guard and Starscream was being towed past him on the leash of a minor noble. The newly bound Blade looked down at once, scowling and jamming his sword further into its scabbard.
“His Majesty’s expecting you,” Thundercracker said. “You can enter.”
Starscream was still watching his ward enough so he saw her nod, but he managed to slide into the throne room without looking directly at Commander Thundercracker.
Lady Westfire strode toward the throne rather quickly—not as if she were eager to see the king, but as if she had places to be. Starscream kept pace with her easily, as his legs were much longer. He was forced to admire the way she carried herself, and after a moment he reluctantly copied it to save his own dignity. I am here because I decided to be, the walk said. He filed it away for later, because most of his walks, he had been informed by Knockout, said either I am having a fit or Something is chasing me.
Knockout was just jealous, the stout little cretin.
By the time they arrived before the king and bowed, Starscream looked like a proper Blade. The king’s eyes, dark and sharp as ever, lingered just long enough to note his existence before turning to Lady Melody. “Your trip to Ironhall went well, then,” he rumbled. His voice matched his appearance, knowing and thunderous.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she returned with impenetrable politeness. “I am very grateful to have been given a Blade.”
The king watched her like a predator. Starscream realized with an uncomfortable start that the king was lying in wait for a smile, a slip of familiarity. He very much wanted a real response. But Lady Westfire must have realized it, too, because she gave him nothing. “Someone so valuable must be protected,” the king said lowly.
“Very kind of you, Your Majesty,” she said.
The king tilted his head at her reply, taking her in with that unwavering gaze. “I hope he serves you well.”
Look at me! Starscream thought furiously. I’ve been training since I was eleven to protect you! I am a living weapon!
Not that the king would ever know that now.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lady Melody replied. The king leaned back and dismissed her. Even when she turned to go, his eyes never left her. Starscream followed her out. The tightness in his shoulders had somehow made itself at home in his throat. He very much wanted to storm off by himself, or go yell at Knockout. But neither of those things were possible anymore.
“I have rooms here in the palace,” Lady Melody told him as they crossed the courtyard. “Normally I would go home, on the other side of the river, but my rooms will do for now.”
Staying close to the palace was precisely what Starscream had wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel grateful enough to manage more than an acknowledging harrumph.
“Have you noticed the architecture? There are statues everywhere,” she continued blithely. “Very serious ones. All they do is stand around and frown. You’ll feel right at home.”
“Perhaps the king should have given you a statue,” he bit out.
She looked sideways at him, but before she could reply, a voice called out, “Oh—Melly!”
The change in Lady Westfire was instantaneous. The slight, sparkling smirk she had been giving him vanished behind the same wall of polite disinterest she had presented to the king. “Lord Byreach.”
A well-dressed man of about thirty approached with the swagger of a much younger man. His face seemed permanently arranged to suggest that he’d just said something supremely amusing. “My humble, abject apologies, Lady Melody.” His eyes twinkled merrily. “Where do my manners get off to?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered, a touch frostily.
“Ha! Very good, that one.” Lord Byreach slapped his thigh, and the self-amused smile carried on. Starscream was divided. On the one hand, after less than a minute, Lord Byreach was potentially the most annoying person he’d ever met; but on the other, the Blade got some vindictive pleasure from watching his ward have to interact with someone who clearly grated on her nerves. “Can I beg a moment?” Byreach asked, but before she could answer, he continued meaningfully, “A whole evening, perhaps.”
“Unfortunately, I have pressing business.” Her voice left no doubt that the word unfortunately had no place in that sentence. Shoulders square, she turned and started away.
“Melly—” Byreach began. He darted forward and grabbed her arm.
Starscream’s saber moved so quickly that it was still ringing when it stopped just short of the man’s throat. Lord Byreach let her go and stumbled backwards, paling. Adrenaline hummed through Starscream, and he kept the sword point leveled at Byreach. He glanced at Lady Melody’s arm, but of course there were no bruises—Byreach hadn’t even had time to get a firm grip on her.
“Sorry about my Blade,” Lady Melody told the lord sweetly. Byreach was looking a great deal less amused now. “He was recently bound.”
“Oh,” Byreach said faintly. “Bit jumpy, isn’t he?”
Starscream flicked the saber forward a hair’s breadth. Byreach paled further to an unbecoming shade of gray. “Oops,” the Blade drawled. He felt he had made his meaning clear. As soon as Lady Melody moved away from Byreach, Starscream sheathed his sword and followed. Every so often she glanced at him in thoughtful silence.
Eventually, Starscream snapped, “What?”
She smiled enigmatically. “I’m thinking I’m glad I didn’t get a statue.”
Listen I can't really imagine Blade as a husband or father (unless it's one of my AUs, cause like in the hsr timeline man has no time for wife and kids) but I CANNOT stop thinking of Blade as a mafia boss with a child and reader as his wife and grrrrrrr the romance the angst the fun the drama LORDDDDD...Blade pressing the cold metal barrel of the gun against the forehead of an enemy who threatened to hurt his child before blowing his brains off....Blade who slashes the throat of a two timing man in his group because the man was feeding info of reader's activites to an enemy faction so she would be targetted...Blade returning home covered in blood as you tenderly look after his injuries and clean up them as your child sleeps peacefully in the crib next to your bed....Blade whose anger is dangerous and violent like a volcano erupting when anyone dares to hurt his mrs and child but god when he's alone with you those raging eyes turn into the most beautiful crimson jewels that worship your existence and protect the little one you both made
