The Great Turkey Calamity

Handbook Teaser

SP Faces: Skulduggery's Family Edition 2.0

Top: Carver Gallant, Skulduggery Pleasant, Confelicity Divine

Second Row: Francis Gadabout, Petulance Ruin, Uther Peccant

Third Row: Bayard Muchly, Sophrosyne Grace

Bottom Row: Apricity Delight, Respair Kempt

In the Handbook, all Skug's siblings have fully-fleshed-out backstories and personalities, and they all get a little section about their personal history. I have kept almost nothing from the Grimoire's "Abrogate Raze" sections, because like 98% of that storyline sucked ass. Also, some names changed, either for brainrot reasons - "Fransic Catawampus" is the stupidest fucking name in the entire series, fight me Lardo - or to fit the personalities I gave them.

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carrotsarelies

4 years ago

Angst prompt: two characters are about to kiss, but pulls away last second when one character says ‘’this isn’t right.’’ and the other replies with ‘’you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.’’

Tried my hand writing some druskëlle!Ivan for this! Gotta be one of my favourite AUs.

Read under the cut!

Ivan Solberg had known, when he became a druskëlle, that his life would no longer be his. His life had been devoted to Djel's sacred cause, and would, at any moment be forfeit in their righteous battle against the drusje. Those devils that plagued the world, cowering behind their Black General in wretched Ravka.

He couldn't have known, back then, that he would fall for one of the witches he had sworn to eradicate.

The witch in question was already waiting for him in the snowy clearing when he got there. Ivan paused for a moment to take in the view; snowflakes powdering his dark hair, his cheeks flushed as he huddled against the cold. Not for the first time, he wondered whether he had been bewitchened by this man. But no... No, he thought he'd know, if that had been the case. Those feelings were his own; he both resented them and held them close.

Ivan stepped out from behins the tree, clearing his throat.

"Drusje." He said, and watched with satisfaction when the other man's head snapped up. Immediately, a smile graced the Grisha's flushed face, and Ivan felt his heart melt just a little.

Just Heartrender tricks.

But he knew that wasn't it.

"Vanya!" The Grisha trilled, stumbling up to him through the knee-deep snow. Ivan felt his heart speed up at the Ravkan diminutive. He watched, feigning indifference, as the other man finally reached him.

"You're here early, Fedjer." Ivan pointed out. The Grisha laughed.

"Fedyor." He corrected, not for the first time, stretching the last syllabe. "But it sounds adorable when you say it like that."

Ivan huffed and looked away, refusing to acknowledge the warmth he felt spreading low in his belly.

"Ravkan names." He said in disgust. "They're strange."

"Well, yours is Ravkan too, you know. Really, I've never asked you about that." Fedyor pointed out. Ivan frowned at him.

"My mother... She was Ravkan. My father is Fjerdan."

He didn't mention his father had kicked his mother out when he'd learned the secret of her origin. He didn't mention he had always treated Ivan like a half-breed. Fedyor didn't need to know.

Yet he was a Heartrender, so Ivan supposed he could tell he was hiding something but the beat of his heart. Even if he did, though, Fedyor didn't mention it. He just shrugged.

"See? We have more in common than you think." He said easily. Ivan was torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to punch this easygoing grin off his stupid, handsome face.

He settled for crossing his arms in front of his chest instead. "Do not get too confident, drusje. I haven't killed you yet, but what makes you think I will not summon my brothers in arms the next time we meet?"

Fedyor pursed his lips thoughtfully, and for a moment Ivan thought he'd take a cautious step away, or attempt to stop his heart. But in the end, he just let out a little laugh; his breath steaming in bursts in front of him like puffy white flowers.

"I suppose I trust you." He said with a wink that made Ivan weak at the knees.

"A grave mistake." Damn you, witch. What spell have you put on me?

"I do not think so." Fedyor said, softer this time. He took another step closer; their chests were almost touching, and his face was so close to Ivan's that the latter could count the pale freckles on his cheeks.

"I do not think you would hurt me, Vanya." The words were whispered as if in prayer. Fedyor's hand came up, cupping Ivan's unshaved face gently. Ivan's heart almost stopped.

His eyes moved down to gaze at Fedyor's lips against his will. Djel help him, he wantes to kiss that stupid grin right off Fedyor's face. He wanted to hold him, run his hands through his dark hair, hear him moan his name-

Damn it. Ivan took a step back, leaning his face away from Fedyor's warm touch.

"This isn't right." He said between gritted teeth. Fedyor's shoulders slumped a little, but he didn't give up

"You wouldn't be here if it weren't." He said softly. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't want this as much as I do..."

That soft, lustful lilt in his voice...

"Fedjer-"

"Fedyor."

The Grisha's gloved hand found his way on his face again, and this time Ivan didn't find it in him to pull away. He let Fedyor lean in until their lips were touching, until he could feel the other man exhaling softly into his mouth. All his reservations melted away in a heartbeat; he grabbed a fistful of Fedyor's hair and smashed their lips together in a hungry, fiery kiss. He tasted sugar and kvas in the Grisha's mouth as he slipped his tongue between his lips, deepening their kiss. Fedyor let out a deep, needy moan that sent fire coursing through Ivan's veins. He dragged Fedyor down, and they crumpled into the snow together without a care for the cold. All that mattered was the feel of each other.

This wouldn't end well. Either Fedyor would betray him and drag him to the Little Palace to be executed, or he would have to take Fedyor to Fjerda for a trial and, most likely, his death. The fragile balance between them would eventually shatter; they would never truly belong to each other. They would never have peace.

But for now, that didn't matter. Damn duty, damn everything. Let his soul burn, if it only meant it would be this drusje's fire that would consume it.

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carrotsarelies

3 years ago

Hi! I love your writing and adore your Fivan one shots so if your still taking prompts I would love to see one where everyone in the little palace ( Genya, Zoya, The Darling etc ) finds out about Fivans relationship. Please and thank you!

Aha, my request for prompts was quite a while ago, but since I can never resist the opportunity for Shenanigans, especially of the Fivan variety, here you go.

Nadia finds out first. She, in fact, does not even need to be actually told. Fedyor is creeping down the stairs in the early morning with tousled hair and a kefta that has spent all night on the floor of Ivan's bedroom, mind filled with nothing but jumbled images and sensations and oh Saints did that finally really happen?, and as a result, is not paying attention in the least to where he is going. He walks bang into his friend, there is a mutual moment of consternation as they stumble backward and clutch their heads and apologize, and then Nadia gets a good look. Fedyor has tried to arrange his collar to hide the most obvious bites, but it doesn't matter. Her eyes go wide as saucers. "Oh my," she says. "Did it finally happen?"

"Did... what... finally happen?"

"Fedyor Kaminsky, don't even try that." Nadia points a finger at him. "You know damn well what I'm talking about."

Fedyor looks at the floor, which doesn't help. A small smile starts to overtake his mouth. This is as good as hiring the entire First Army drum-and-trumpet brigade to parade around announcing the news, he knows, but he can't help it. "Maybe."

"Maybe." Nadia utters a scoff that is twice her size. "That is a question with a yes-or-no answer, you idiot."

Fedyor's lips pull wider. So do Nadia's.

"Oh," she crows, punching the air. "I knew it."

-----

Zoya, Ivan's old nemesis from training and their shared but completely exclusive belief that Kirigan should pay attention only to their advice at all times, also picks it up by inference. In her case, it's because she sees Ivan actually smiling when Fedyor is standing closely next to him, filling him in on some item of Heartrender miscellany, rather than looking as if this is the worst thing to happen in his entire life. When Fedyor touches Ivan's wrist briefly and slips off, Zoya's suspicions are confirmed. She stomps up and demands, "Really?"

Ivan whirls around, sees her, and glares. "Did you need something?"

"Fedyor?" Zoya still hasn't processed. "But he's so nice! Did he hit his head or wake up having forgotten his entire life to this date? I'm having a hard time thinking what else he can possibly see in you."

Ivan crosses his arms across his chest, fixing her with an even greater stare of total death, but she refuses to back down. "I don't know what you're talking about, Nazyalensky," he barks. "If you're not going to train that new cohort of Squallers, then -- "

"Fine." Zoya turns on her heel, then adds over her shoulder, "He's much too good for you, you know."

Ivan stares at her implacably. He does not, however, deny either this fact or the reason for it, and Zoya, smugly, takes that as a win.

------

Genya knows soon too, but then, Genya knows more or less everything that happens in the Little Palace by virtue of her position. The queen and her ladies are very gossipy, and when one of the younger ones starts going on about that Fedyor Kaminsky, he's such a dish, so handsome, what's his situation, Genya feels obliged to speak up and provide some gentle clarification. "I'm afraid he's already taken," she says. "And you won't want to tangle with his partner. It's... well, it's Ivan, the general's right-hand man."

The reactions, of course, are predictable: "Ivan?" spoken in increasingly incredulous tones. "Ivan? Ivan! IVAN. IVAN?!!"

"But he's so...." one of the ladies protests. "So terribly rude."

Genya smothers a wry smile. "Apparently Fedyor doesn't mind."

-------

Kirigan finds out last, and most mortifyingly. Fedyor and Ivan have been together for four months at this point, are returning to the Little Palace from their first separation as a couple and have some making up for lost time to do. They have not managed to make it to a bedroom and are getting started on said actions on the wall of a nearby antechamber, when Kirigan thinks of something he apparently forgot to tell Ivan on the road and pushes the door open imperiously, not bothering to knock. "Ivan! If those Fjerdans were already at Arkesk, then we need to -- "

There is a monumentally panicked scramble as Ivan, the stern, unflappable, terrifying Heartrender captain of the Second Army physically dives away, hits the ground, rolls over and over while frantically trying to lace his trousers up, and Fedyor has lunged with equal dispatch behind a sofa. There he crouches, likewise attempting in vain to restore his clothing, as Kirigan comes to a halt and looks around quizzically. "Ivan?"

"Moi... soverenyi," Ivan pants, climbing to his feet and brushing floor dust off his kefta. "I did not -- I thought you were -- "

"I seem to have interrupted something?" Kirigan arches a sleek dark brow. He catches sight of Fedyor, then shakes his head. "Oh, Ivan. You really could do better."

At the look of pure rage on Ivan's face, a look he has never seen before in relation to him, the Black General blinks, and even he thinks better of picking this fight. "Ah," he says. "My apologies. Congratulations, of course. I hope you two will be very happy."

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carrotsarelies

3 years ago

I find so funny that when Mirabel sees Bruno he just... runs away dramatically. I mean, dude, where are you going? What's your goal? Are you trying to lost her and then go to your room? And then what??

Mirabel only has to follow the linear path and eventually she would find a door inside the walls.