cettelune

Isn’t it betrayal when only one of them has the upper hand?

Deveshi’s lips were blistered and cracked to the point of resembling ripped parchment, and it betrayed her facade of indifference. Of course, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Maitreyi, whose gaze always sought a chance to linger on every inch of her that she can take in at once. Had she not been in such a compromising position of a knife against her neck, Maitreyi would have loved to run her thumb over Deveshi’s lips and kiss that adorable mole of hers above them once again. A comfort, that seemed too far away from her reach, metaphorically and quite literally.

“Leave, Maitu- Maitreyi. And I’ll let you go unharmed. I won’t tell my folk that I saw you and be on my way out of here as soon as I’m done. But, even if one word is uttered of this out of your mouth to anyone, anywhere, I know how to wield a knife-” Maitreyi snorted. “Clearly.” “-and I’d gladly do it again but without mercy.”

A chuckle. “Ah my beautiful ratna. I know you wield a knife, quite better than a few of my court’s best guards might I add, but gladly? I’m afraid I doubt you’d find anything glad about putting a knife deeper into my neck. Wouldn’t you rather bruise it with your lips instead?”

“If I’m not wrong, I believe I’m the one with the knife right now. I’d be careful with my words if I were you.” Yet, a sliver of red that rushed up to her cheeks betrayed the sharpness of her tongue she tried to put.

“Ah, you estimate me too little, Devi. I’m wounded.” Maitreyi teased with a little pout.

“Really? And how is it that a trained assassin underestimates you?” She drew Maitreyi closer to the wall and the knife a little nearer to her flesh, beckoning her.

“Because,” Deveshi could feel the smugness dripping in Maitreyi’s voice. Predicted. But what she did not predict was a sudden flash of heat.

Maitreyi’s hand snaked around Deveshi’s waist and spun her in a dizzying jolt halfway, pinning her against the wall. The stir in her head rivaled the roughness of the warm bricks scraping her cheeks. With a sleight of hand, Maitreyi grasped the knife and held the newly acquainted knife to her neck as Deveshi’s breath hitched. Maitreyi playfully nudged the tip just beneath the thread necklace her lover wore using the flat side of it, and drew her closer from behind, just until her lips faintly brushed over the assassin’s ears.

Feedback or questions highlyyy appreciated TwT

A basic plot idea I’ve been trying to develop since this morning:

title idea ish: their blood truly didn’t bleed blue

*blue blooded means to be a noble person or of royalty, and these nobles preach that a force exists that calls upon only such people to take on the roles of gods to have control of all the higher-level aspects of the kingdom. but what is the extent of fairness in this nepotistic rule and how far can it be trusted to choose people truly just, and not just because they claim to descend from nobility?

either in a futuristic or fantasy world, a “force” existed within a secluded area in the palace of the gods atop the ‘halo’ (mountain ranges outside the town that were always luminescent due to an unknown reason) that gave the roles of the world’s gods to people of “noble blood” so as to look over the wellbeing of the kingdom, since good and evil have long passed. the roles were inherited generation wise from the ‘original’ gods unless chosen otherwise by the “force.”

mc was the half-child of one of the “gods” (god of souls (living)) during their reign and a commoner, and hence kept a secret regarding the true nobility of their blood, even though they possessed intellect and strategy above their “true blood” counterparts. their goal is to earn the title of their god after their parent god as the next in line but they are mistreated due to being not true blood (they were born out of an affair type ish yeah) along with also not having priority as they’re the second oldest amongst the 4 children. mc’s love interest (god of death (soulslivers)) is a true blood first-in-line royal of the god of the living/souls, who doesn’t intend to take up the throne, instead wasting away time on temporary risky pleasures (see hookups and illegal secret trades of material wealth such as ambrosia, delicacies, chipping a of the walls made of the strongest element inside the palace, etc.)

this royal, however, possesses more than adequate ease in wielding weapons and physical strength compared to the half-blood, so, after certain persuasion, and possibly indebting the royal to them with some form of blackmail or payback, they take them on as a partner -> relation dynamic: rivals or acquaintances with bad history [meet ugly] to oblivious rivals with benefits to lovers. the half blood then hatches a plot to either kidnap and disfigure (as in change the appearance) and then remove the memories of the first in line completely so as to remove him from the court altogether or to kill him and throw the blame on antag. yes there’s an antag, dunno who but they’re gonna be a force to be reckoned with.

somewhere along the story, a turning point arises where the god of war and the god of justice/injustice have struck a deal with our mc, that lets a transfer of “birthright” to one of their bloodlines instead, allowing them to proceed as the next god when the time comes. but why?

p.s make the entire plot in contemporary/modern times or a period/ historical time

the gods:

the living souls

afterlife

sun and moon: twins

land: 3 gods for land, fertility, and agriculture/harvest

water: 4 gods for rivers, oceans, ice, and purity

a half-divided god for both justice and injustice

air

fire

seasons

wellbeing: two for health (both physical and mental peace) and wealth

war

weaponry

environment: seasons and weather

union and love

knowledge

beauty

or

living/souls

human relations/affairs

dead/also called soulslivers

in between life and death (overseeing movement on ‘afteriver’)

objects: weaponry

material: wealth

abstract: emotions