Faery, 8

You Can Deny Reality All You Want, but You Can’t Force People Not to Care about You

Ao3 Link

Juniper sighed. “Fuck off.”

Come on, Juniper.

“No. I’m not in the mood.”


“Why would I jerk off?” Juniper asks. “I’m in fucking jail.”

Exactly! And there’s no fucking in fucking jail! You must be getting horny! There’s not even like a guy to rape you if you drop the soap!

“Rape jokes are not funny, you asshole.”

Of course they’re not. I’m just appealing to the various kinks out there. Come on, jerk it for the audience. It’s been a long time since they saw you cum.

Juniper rolls his eyes, lifting his hips to pull his pants down. His dick’s already hard and he spits on his hand and starts jerking off. “Everyone’s going to think you’re a bitch for pressuring me into this.”

I can survive the scorn. Besides, you were going to do it anyway, you only balked when I suggested the ice dildo.

Juniper blushes more than the situation calls for. “I was not.”

Really, you weren’t? Should I zip us back in time fifteen minutes to when you said, “hey, I haven’t gotten off in a while with people watching. Should I jerk it or something for the horny fucks you call an audience?”

“Sh-shut up! That was said in confidence!” Juniper licks two fingers and slides them inside himself while he rapidly whacks off. “Besides, there’s been enough fucking t-time travel in this story.”


“I’m serious.” Juniper is moving his hips up and down, fucking himself onto his fingers. “And we fucking still haven’t gotten to the part where you originally wanted to start me off.”

Yeah, yeah. I’m willing to admit I was wrong on that one.

Juniper narrows his eyes, panting. “You never admit you’re wrong.”

I do when I’m wrong.

Juniper snorts, making a needy noise as he starts to get close. He doesn’t say anything for a good minute until, desperately jabbing his fingers inside to reach what he wants, he finally cums, spurting up and all over himself with a sigh as he releases the pressure he didn’t know he was holding in.

“What’s so interesting after that point that you wanted the whole story to focus on it?” Juniper asks, as he takes his fingers out of himself a few seconds later.

You’ll see.

“Ominous piece of shit.”

That’s why everyone likes me.

“I don’t fucking like you.”

Sure you do.

“I only talk to you because you give me powers and shit. Which you’re not even doing right now.”

That’s not going to work on me.

“What isn’t?”

That thing where you alienate your friends so that they leave you alone and let you wallow in self-pity.

Juniper blinks. “We’re…friends?”

Of course we are, Juniper. Why else would I still be here with you?

“I…” Juniper doesn’t know what to say. Fortunately, at that point the cell door opens.

“Stand up,” the guard said, shouldering his way into the prison cell. He looks at Juniper and sighs. “And pull your damned pants up.”

“Okay, okay,” Juniper said, trying to do both of those things and once and glaring at nothing for not warning him this was about to happen. “Act like you’ve never seen an isolated person relieve stress before. I’ve been stuck with my hand for weeks, what did you think was going to happen?”

“It’s been four days.”

“So…you don’t want to fuck, then.”

The guard pulls Juniper towards the door. “The queen requests your presence. Try not to say anything stupid to her.”

“Fat chance of that,” Juniper muttered, but he let the guard pull him out of the prison, then manhandle him—and not in the good way—all the way to a large, phosphorescent sphere that was the queen’s seat.

Inside, gently glowing leaves illuminated a shell of white back, casting as many colours as there were ideas on everything, but giving more than enough light to see by in the process. There were several faeries around, but there was no way to look anywhere but at the main one. The faery queen Amaryllis was tall, dressed in a white gown made from vapour, which floated all around her for a good distance. She had four layers of wings, trailing behind her, white overlaid with different shades of gossamer. She held in her lap her white-wrought sceptre, and wore the Crown of the Forest, and surveyed the whole court archly.

Juniper hadn’t bathed in a week and he had cum on his shirt. He smiled weakly before kneeing. “Your Majesty,” he said.

“Juniper,” said the queen, in a voice that made Juniper feel even smaller. “You nearly killed my son.”

Juniper nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking. He didn’t bother giving any excuses.

“Have you no explanation, not to much as an excuse to offer in your defence?”

Juniper shook his head. “No. I screwed up. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I know I did. I should have…stayed away from him. I knew better and I did it anyway.”

“What do you mean, you knew better?”

Juniper looked up. He hadn’t seen Daffodil standing there before, focused on the queen. But he was there, next to her. With Hemlock. “I…hurt everyone, Daffodil…your Majesty. It’s what I always do.” He tried not to look at Hemlock, tried not to hear what Hemlock had said to him the other day. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He looked just like normal. Just like Juniper remembered him. Juniper was so relieved.

“I am,” Daffodil said, putting his arm around Hemlock. “Thanks to our poison specialist.”

Juniper blinked, looking at how they stood together. “Oh. That’s…that’s great.” Hemlock looked embarrassed.

Juniper had…not expected that. Wow.

The queen, he needed to look back at the queen. “Hemlock told you about the centipedes in the hamlet, right? They’re really dangerous. Like, world-bendingly dangerous. You have to…”

“Do not presume to tell me what I have to do,” the queen interrupted, waving the sceptre. “I will deal with the demon. We are here to sentence you.”


“Yes. For the charge of attempted murder of the crown prince. Juniper, you are sentenced to death. There will be no appeal. Stand for execution.”

Juniper rocked, nearly falling to the floor. “Death?” he squeaked. That was…he was going to die. An actual death, not what normally happened to faeries. He’d be torn to pieces, instead of being reborn in different bits, his essence would be ground down to nothing and used to feed the forest. Death.


All eyes in the court swung to Hemlock, who’d nearly tripped as he moved to stand in the queen’s vision. “Your Majesty, don’t.”


“Hemlock?” Daffodil asked.

“Hemlock, there is no need for you to feel sorry for this creature.”

“It was my fault.”

A hush fell.

“No it wasn’t,” Juniper said, voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t.” They couldn’t kill Hemlock. He wouldn’t let them.

“Explain,” ordered the queen.

“I…Juniper hurt me. So I cursed him, so that anyone he was with would get ill. It was irresponsible. It was stupid. It was my fault. Please, don’t kill him over my mistake.”

“You…” The pain in Hemlock’s voice was contagious. “You didn’t mean to hurt anyone, Hem,” Juniper said.

“Yes, I did,” Hemlock whispered, turning to Juniper now. “I meant to hurt you.”

“Anyone who matters.”

Hemlock was crying, his makeup running. “You matter, June.” Daffodil had come down, hand on Hemlock’s thigh.

He turned to the queen. “Mother. This wasn’t a crime of malice. It was an act of heartbreak. I don’t think a punishment is in order.”

“You,” said Amaryllis, “are not the queen, son.” She stood, the court seeming to shift as she did. She stepped down from the dais, sceptre in hand. She stopped in front of the three of them. “I should have known this all came down to one of you being too horny for your own good. There will be no punishment. Remove yourself from the court.”

“I…thank you, your Majesty,” Juniper said, still kneeling. Daffodil and Hemlock helped him stand. And to them he said, “Thank you.”

“It’s going to be okay, Juniper,” said Hemlock, reaching out as if to touch him, and then stopping. “We’ll fix it.”

“F-fix what?”

“Everything. You should go, though.”

Juniper nodded, so confused. “Yeah. I…thank you.” he looked at both of them, took a step back, and another. They looked really nice together. They fit. “I love you.”

He didn’t know which one of them he was saying it to. Juniper turned and hurried out of the court. He imagined them calling after him, getting him to come back.

But they didn’t.

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2 thoughts on “Faery, 8

  1. I’m guessing that the queen never had any intention of executing anybody, and was merely using the threat of such to scare the truth out of whoever was hiding it? Because otherwise that’s an abrupt 180, from death penalty to no punishment at all.


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