#「 she dwells with beauty— beauty that must die┋✦ ‣◜MIRROR◝」

[jarofstyles]

Beauty and the Beast - Nightshade

The moment you've been waiting for, the answers are here :) sorry this took a literal year (and then some)

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wc: 6.3k

warnings: not many warnings in this one, just a reference to character's death

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This wasn’t his plan.

Harry never wanted her to see this room. At least, not yet. This was… an escape from his past. One he was slowly starting to try and move on from now that he and his love had finally expressed emotions and been able to give each other the proper reactions… but no.

He had never forbidden her from it, so he couldn’t really be angry. It did flare up in him, mainly because he was scared. Terrified of these memories and his past making her want to leave and forget him because he had held on to it for so long, but nothing was making sense lately. Not a single thing.

The only thing that made sense was how good it felt to hold her. Kiss her. Fuck her. She was what he wanted, and his head had never felt more clear in terms of what he wanted.

Her.

Finding her in the room, shaking like a leaf, he was terrified that she was going to leave. She wasn’t as sneaky as she would like to believe.

He had arrived earlier than he’d planned and as if he had a 7th sense, he heard her leave the bed. The moment she opened this door, however, he sprinted up the stairs.

It seemed… off. To see her in this room. Like it was a long time coming and yet, still a kick in the face. It obviously affected her, and he wasn’t sure how.

“My love?” He approached cautiously, not sure how to handle this fully. Did he touch her? Knock her out of it with his words? Why was she staring into the mirror in such a daze? And why was she shaking? “Beloved… what is wrong?” The rasp of his voice echoed in the large room.

“Do you know her?” Y/N asked, her voice calm despite how her blood ran cold with fear. She was in a daze and everything felt slow. It almost didn’t feel real.

Her eyes were still locked on the figure in the mirror, analyzing each feature as if her life depended on it. Millions of thoughts rushed through her head, meadows and laughter, images of sharing a loaf of fresh bread in secret, swimming in lakes… her focus blurred for a moment, thoughts became memories and her head snapped from the mirror to look at him.

“She…” his voice paused as he tried to word it the right way. She wasn’t yelling yet, which was a decent sign but he also knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

He completely would understand her anger at him for having a room full of a woman that wasn’t her, but he was going to take it down. Move on, because he had her… it just happened so quickly. He had hundreds of years to dwell on the past and only a few months in the future.

“She was why I had believed… that I was going to die.” He cleared his throat. “That was who I believed to be my beloved… and she was taken from me, years ago. I loved her very much. Usually, you die when your beloved does.” The voice in his throat felt rough, still not an easy topic to approach. Let alone to his new lover.

“So I thought… I was slowly losing it. And we lose ourselves to madness eventually, when our beloved are killed. However… all of the madness seems to be gone for me.” He was still confused on how that happened. He could have sworn that she was. But seeing Y/N standing in front of him now… he wasn’t sure at all.

The connection they had felt incredible.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept the things so long. I know it must be difficult to look at.”

“I’ve been seeing her in my dreams for months, Harry…” Y/N spoke, still too startled to express any emotion. “She practically lives in my brain.” She shook her head.

It was an odd feeling. Nothing Y/N could ever explain in words. He had loved her… truly enough to think she was the one. This woman who had been living in the shadows of her mind for months.

It seemed like she was the one going insane, not Harry.

“I’ve seen her at least once every week since I moved here… I feel like she has my eyes— don’t you think?” She asked timidly, swallowing the dryness in her throat to try and make sense of this. “Do you see her in me? Is that how I got here?”

Harry felt his already cold body freeze over.

Months?

“And you haven’t… you haven’t been in here at all?” He questioned wearily. When she shook her head, he swallowed.

Christ.

The vampire was positive there were no other hints of her around the house. This room was the one he came in when he wanted to think about her. It was how he kept sane for a good while. But the idea that she had constantly been seeing her… it startled him.

“I… I never really thought about comparing you to her.” The cool hands cupped her warm face, taking a look. Though, now looking at her… there were some uncanny similarities. The eyes. The lips. He knew them.. for far longer than he had known Y/N. “You are different. In most ways. I never thought of her in you, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re.. a very different person but you share some things. Some phrases… mannerisms. But I never put you both in a mirror.”

He liked her all on his own.

“I don’t know how this is possible.” He tilted her head up and stroked her heated cheek with his thumb, trying to wrack his mind over how it could happen. “Is she…  what happens in your dreams, love?” His voice softens immensely, trying to coax out more of her thoughts.

“She doesn’t hurt me or scare me,” Y/N spoke, lips more in a pout now that he was holding her face. “She just… she knows something I don’t and she’s trying to tell me,” Y/N explained and closed her eyes. She needed to ground herself.

Knowing Harry had never compared them brought her a lot of peace. That still didn’t change the fact that it felt like looking into a mirror.

“You spent lots of time with her outside…” Y/N spoke quietly, humming with her eyes still closed. “You would pick her flowers… you swam… she really loved you.”

If it was possible, he knew his heart would stop.

“How do you know that?” He asked, considering just how she knew his antics. How she was aware of the fact that they’d pick flowers and swim and kiss in the sunlight. When he would risk it all to be outside with her because the sunshine made her happy and warm.

“She’s trying to talk to you?” And she wasn’t trying to rip Y/N to pieces? That was unusual for her. Possessiveness was a main personality trait for her and he didn’t mind it at all, but he was curious as to how the hell she didn’t seem to mind if she was inside of her head.

“What is she trying to say, angel?” He placed his forehead on hers. “Hm? Is she just telling you what we used to do?” That would be incredibly peculiar. How was she even communicating with her at all? And how was a human capable of receiving those sorts of messages?

If he didn’t know better, Harry would have assumed she would read his journals. But he knew where she was at all times, and never had the girl ventured into this room or opened a book that didn’t belong to her.

“You went somewhere earlier…” She decided to skip over his comment, choosing rather to focus on how the hell she was recalling this information. “When I woke up Ida said you’d be out for longer—”

The thoughts in her mind seemed to relax and she was able to open her eyes and look at him again.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Y/N searched his eyes for something to hold on to, she felt like she could give him more answers if he was fully transparent with her.

“No more secrets.”

The man took a breath, closing his eyes this time as he tried to figure out just how to explain this part to her.

“Okay. No more secrets.”

His hand took hers and led her towards the velvet green couch, sitting her down on it and sitting far too close next to her. Clasping her smaller hands in his own, he took a moment to compose himself.

“I went to see if I could find the contact information for a witch. Someone who knows far more about the soul-bonding process and could explain to me what had happened, why I was feeling the way I was…” he paused, throat drying slightly as he squeezed her hands. “Why I feel the way I do when I thought we only have one chance at love.”

His green eyes met hers, showing that he genuinely was confused but he cared. He cared for her so much, he loved her. It shouldn’t be possible, but Harry knew what he was feeling.

“You know… I thought maybe I was actually dying. And I wanted to spare you from it. But when I woke up, I knew I had to dig for answers. I couldn’t just allow you to suffer along with me as we had gotten attached. So I went to a frequent spot for the… otherworldly.” He chuckled lightly at the words he used. There probably were better ones, but it would make the most sense to her.

“When she died… I felt myself mourn. I was in so much grief and pain and anger... I've never physically hurt that badly before and yet…” He licked his dark pink lower lip, eyes searching hers. Recognizing bits of them. Now that he was thinking about the connection… It was true.

“I never felt the snap. I never felt… like I was going to die. That's what I’ve always been told. For soul bonds to break, for one of us to have died, the other should have felt the severing. And I never did.”

“Did you meet the witch?” Y/N asked as if that was a normal question for a human to ask a vampire. It seemed like for the time being Y/N wasn’t entirely there at the minute.

She tilted her head and waited for his answer, eyes taking in every bit of his appearance. Y/N had a feeling that he knew something that would make sense of the messages in her head. The feelings she was feeling as her own.

“I… Didn’t.” He grumbled, letting his eyes fall again. Another area where he had failed her. Truly, he wanted to be good to her. He wanted to give her the best and he couldn’t even figure out why he had gone crazy.

“I put in an inquiry. They’re busy people and while I may have a lot of pull in this world, they’re the ones with the answers. I was told I’d have someone show up to give me some, but I didn’t want to pour my story out to a witch that wasn’t going to help.”

He let himself relax slightly as she didn’t seem to get angry at him now. She just looked like she wanted answers… answers that were very valid. He knew he had been a bit of a dick for not giving them to her right away. He should have been transparent but… how?

It was difficult, usually, to work humans into this world. It was actually a bit… strange how well adapted she was.

-500 years prior-

The worst day of Harry’s life had started just like any other.

Summer was quickly coming to a close and while he himself didn’t mind the shift to cooler temperatures and shorter days, his beloved seemed to mourn the summer. Celeste believed that there was nothing that would ever compare to the feeling of dunking yourself into the lake on a warm day. She believed that there was nothing that brought her more tranquillity than gazing up at the stars while the warm humid air hugged her skin. Even when bug bites adorned her legs Summer reminded her that she was still human.

“My darling, wake up. We have to go.” The familiar sleepy voice of her lover woke Celeste from her slumber. With a firm yet gentle shake, she allowed her eyes to flutter open and adjust to the darkness of their cottage. “Please, we haven’t much time.”

The sound of footsteps quickly approaching from outside left Harry in a panic, but he couldn’t let her see. And while he felt Celeste was blissfully unaware of the fate that awaited her, the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Celeste never thought her worst nightmare would actually come true. She had spent years protecting her home and the land around it. Her enchantments attracted nothing but positive light and all those who crossed her path were destined to meet her. All the animals knew they were welcome and always rewarded her for her efforts to enrich their earth. Celeste had spent her whole life here in the forest, only venturing into town when she urgently needed something. It wasn’t safe for witches in town, the common folk were terrified of magic and the creatures and spirits that fed off of them, but it was the job of her and her sisters to keep the city safe from any harm in secrecy.

She had met Harry by chance, she remembered the day so vividly. She stumbled upon him on her way home– She remembered the dazed look in his eyes and the blood on his collar. He looked so ashamed, crying against the back wall of the local bakery. Never had Celeste seen a vampire show so much remorse after feeding, but then again she hadn’t seen many vampires with her own eyes, to begin with. The Vampires upheld their deal of peace and ethics, as long as the witches protected them from the hunters.

The very hunters who were now trying to take her love away from her.

They’d been so careful. She knew that the safest place for Harry to be was with her. But it seemed that even her powers weren’t enough to overcome the evil that possessed humankind. The universe would always find its balance somehow, even in the cruelest of ways.

“Harry, they cannot know– I should not follow you, I fear they will question why I am not in my home at this hour should they find I am not here…” Celeste whispered, motioning down towards the tunnel in her cellar. They had talked about this plan before, but Celeste always knew she could never convince him to go on his own. So she never told him that part of the plan.

“My love, I refuse to leave you here alone–” A shout from the outside left his words to die in his throat. Harry shook his head, taking her wrist and pulling her with him without another word. Harry was cautious. Though he was aware that these men were after him and not his beloved, he couldn’t bring himself to trust those who have brought his kind nothing but shame and suffering. The hunters were everything but fair and if they had any reason to believe she was living with a fugitive, he knew she would be as good as dead.

He had dreams of them running away and rebuilding a home elsewhere, somewhere they could be truly safe. There were vampires who lived in the north who had mastered the art of camouflage. Rumors spread like wildfire saying they were mated and bonded, that they lived with humans who let them feed in a mutual exchange. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but Harry would give up anything if it meant he could have the life he dreamed of with her. He just needed her there with him.

“My love, they shall not bring me any harm. The tunnel, it will bring you to the lake, you know your way from there. I promise I will find you once they see there is nothing for them to find here.” Celeste’s voice was soft as she reached to smooth the worry away from his brow. “Such a worry wort.” She giggled though she knew her fate was much to worry about. There could only be one reason the hunters would be suspicious of her. If her enchantments broke, it meant the fates had decided it was their time. Celeste, however, would never give him up, she knew he would wait for her forever. No, she could and would not let them find him.

Harry’s head turned quickly as he saw an orange glow begin to creep through the windows. He chose to be selfish in the little time he had left, pressing a kiss so full of love and longing that he hoped that it would somehow change her mind. The way her lips melded over his with a hunger she only saved for their most intimate moments, he swore they would be etched in his mind forever. He knew she wouldn’t let up.

“You must find me.” Harry breathed, his words a command as he pressed another desperate kiss to her lips. “My love, you are the only thing worth living for.” He hesitated, not wanting to leave this precious moment in fear that it would be their last.

With each second, he could hear the footsteps growing closer and closer, his eyes memorizing her form till he couldn’t anymore. A final stolen kiss was all he left for her as he disappeared into the cellar and ran like hell.

He shouldn’t have left her there, he knew that now.

In a sick and twisted way, he thanked the gods for sparing him the piercing sounds of her screams as she begged for mercy, for when he returned, the bloodied sight left him feeling hollow. She put up a fight, the way he always knew she would,  but it seemed that the hunters came with no remorse. How could they claim that they were ridding the town of evil when they had done such cruel and horrible things to the purest creature he had ever known?

“It should have been me.” He thought, swallowing down thick tears, but as he looked around he realized that this evil would not have stopped at him.

-end of flashback-

He hadn’t taken the death of Celeste well.

He had avenged her the best he could. Ripped the hearts out of every single person he could trace to her death, letting them die the way he felt every day without her. It felt like he had little to no emotion, feeling only pain when he woke up.

It continued like that for years until he became comfortably numb. Still questioning why and how. Living without her was worse than any death, worse than anything he had ever could have imagined. But there was always this little light that never fully smothered. Her voice in the back of his mind saying she would find him again. His own recurring dreams that he figured were just a comfort to his psyche. The hope.

Once he met Y/N though? It had gone away. Completely. No more dreams. Almost any yearning was gone. He felt like a patch had been placed on the gaping wound and it had made him feel very, very guilty at first until he realized that maybe she would want him to be happy.

Y/N was so familiar. Like a piece of him in her that had stolen his breath when she had walked into the estate. Sure, she resembled Celeste more than some others did but she was her own person. He had fallen for her knowing that.

Y/N’s thoughts were running wild in her mind, attempting to connect the pieces of the story that she herself didn’t know. The longer she looked around the room the calmer came over her body where normally she’d expect rage and sorrow. Another woman adorned his walls, but Harry was only really focusing on her.

“Y/N tell me what you’re thinking of. I wish you would have told me about these dreams sooner, but there isn’t much we can do now except wait for–” Harry’s sentence was cut off by a knock on the door.

“Sir, someone is here to see you–” Ida began her introduction, but the woman behind her seemed to feel right at home.

“Oh goodness!” The woman exclaimed, stopping to take a look around the room. She didn’t look to be that old, but her spirit was far older than Harry and Y/N both. “I had a feeling you’d honor my sister, but with such commitment? I see the fates wanted some entertainment. Bless your no longer beating heart.” She smiled, placing a hand over her heart before approaching the two. “My dear, how are you finding your new body? It’s good to see you again. I’ve been awaiting your call.”

“What?” Y/N blinked at the woman, cocking her head as she tried to figure out why she looked so familiar. How did she know her? Where did she know her from?

Oh god.

This was not the way he wanted it to go- nor did he fully understand what exactly was happening. His brows furrowed, tucking Y/N into his body in slight protection as he stood up straighter, keeping a hand on her. As if she would slip away.

“Harry? What is she talking about?” Her voice peeped behind him, her hand tangled in his shirt. A resounding ache echoed in his chest as he stared at the witch.

Astrid.

Celeste’s sister. One for who Harry harbored a lot of resentment for not warning them. For not protecting his beloved back then. She had been somewhat nonchalant. Telling Harry that Celeste would meet him in another life. Her lack of care had ruined their goodwill, making Harry feel as though she didn’t fucking care that the love of his life - well, past? It confused them- was gone.

“I don’t know, darling.” His grip on her was firm, making Astrid scoff.

“Calm down, Fangs. I’m not going to hurt my sister… though- I have a feeling based on the incredibly confused faces, you haven’t actually figured it all out yet?” She laughed, shaking her head as she tried to peek around Harry. “Should probably listen to messages all the way through- just got excited to see her again. Tell me.” She paused, growling slightly when Harry kept her from view. “What’s your name in this life, sister? What did you choose? Y/N or Violeta?”

Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat before attempting to speak.

“How did you– Y/N. My name is Y/N.” Y/N looked between Astrid and Harry, waiting for one of them to tell her what on earth was going on. It seemed Harry was hesitant to accept the help of this woman, but she knew her name. “What is going on?” While her heart was beating a million miles a minute, she tried her best to sound strong. She was angry that Harry once again was hiding something from her, he clearly knew this woman and this woman knew him.

“Darling, I feel as though this is something you should take on with your… well since you haven't bonded I’m not sure what he is to you.” Astrid chuckled, “Always cautious you are, Harry. So respectful of my sister, but still haven’t learned to trust now did you?” She smirked seeing the anger flare through Harry’s expression. “No need to get angry at the truth, Harry. You mustn’t lie to the girl any more than you have.”

“Look, if you came here to laugh in our faces, you might as well make your way out.” Y/N felt her jaw clenching. “I’ve been having dreams of this woman since I’ve stepped foot in this home, your sister? You think I’m her?” Y/N asked in a pointed tone, she refused to have any more time wasted.

“I didn’t lie.” He snarled, baring fangs. He didn’t want to make this any more painful or weird than it already was for them! “I wasn’t sure. That is why I called to ask!”

“Blah, blah. Harry, you’re dense. Y/N- I apologize if that’s how it seems. Harry and I have always had our differences since your passing.”

Y/N blinked.

What?

What?!

“I know you are. It’s adding up.” She began softly, lowering her tone. The poor thing didn’t actually know, and Celeste was trying to pop through and this humanity she had been raised with was something that was trying to push it back. “The dreams you’ve been having aren’t dreams. They’re memories.” She sat on the armchair opposite where they were standing. Astrid was overly comfortable and it made Harry irritated, but Y/N could feel a seedling of fondness creep into her tummy.

It felt like she knew her.

“When Celeste died- I saved her soul.” She began, kicking her feet up on the table. “She- aka, you- always had an issue fitting in. It’s why she was targeted. A vampire and a witch… everyone could see it. Harry was struggling at the time, still adjusting to coming into vampiric adulthood. You both were so in love, you couldn’t see that people were noticing things. The way she never got sick, the things she could conjure up… it was incredible for the time period.” Astrid rolled her eyes slightly.

“And Harry? He abused conjuring. He got whatever he wanted whenever you batted those long eyelashes. Whipped to the tenth degree.”

Harry winced because as crude as she sounded… she wasn’t wrong.

“Two fools in love. I found out too late about the plans. I couldn’t save your physical form- but I saved your soul. Unfortunately…” she had the grace to look a bit bashful.

“Someone stole it. Vanessa- she had always been jealous of you and Harry. She had broke through an enchantment and stole the bottle I had your soul in. I got it back only a bit ago. That’s why it took so long. And Harry, here.” She gave him a glare. “Ignored my letters for a good few centuries. Rude.”

It was all a bit much to take in.

Y/N wasn’t sure what she was expecting, after all, it did involve vampires and witches. This certainly wasn’t on her list.

“So, you have my soul?” Y/N asked as if it was normal. As if she had any idea of how she ended up here. This whole time she thought she was her own person but this was a part of her. It didn’t make any sense, there was still a piece missing to the puzzle.

“Well, when I got it back, I drove up north because it seems all the bloodsuckers moved— and I released it.” Astrid continued, “About… say how old are you?”

“Almost 23.” Y/N swallowed, noticing how Astrid seemed pleased at her answer.

“23 years ago sounds about right.” Astrid hummed, “You know Harry, you should be thankful I brought her so close to you— who knows what would have happened had I not come up here.” It was clear that she was teasing, just getting the vampire riled up for her own entertainment.

“Any who… If Harry had opened my letters, he would have heard all about it. I’m glad you two found each other, I know how deeply you care for him… always knew you’d try to outsmart the fates— but you better not mess about this time!”

“Astrid.” He growled, feeling the rage inside of him brewing. “This is not funny.”

“I mean.” She waved her hand. “It’s a little funny. You’ve got each other now, don’t you? She isn’t gonna stick out so much. I figured you’d have that stick out of your arse since you’ve gotten her back butttttt…”

“You could have rang! Found me! Told me so I didn’t live in misery all these years. Of course, I’m ecstatic she is back, but you played me. Made me think there wasn’t a chance.”

Y/N could see him bristling, stiff as a board, with hair standing up on the back of his neck. Truly, he looked a bit monster like as she looked at his bared fangs and the veins that blackened beneath his eyes.

Her favorite show hadn’t been too far off.

“Harry.” She whispered, placing her hand on his chest. “Please. You’ve got to relax. I’m upset too. I’m confused. But getting combative isn’t going to give us answers.” She wasn’t afraid of him. Despite what most humans would feel, Y/N wasn’t worried about him hurting her. He would never. His hands were meant to nurture her. Soothe her. Pleasure. Not hurt.

Harry felt the warmth of her hand on his chest, the stiffness of his body relaxed a little. The veins and fangs remained, but his gaze softened as it laid on her.

“I’m sorry.” He gently pulled her to lean into his side, hand cupping the back of her head and letting her be pulled into his embrace. “I know you don’t like to see me like that.”

Harry was confused, because despite Celeste’s soul being inside of her… he fell in love with Y/N.

Her laugh, her giggle, her cinnamon sugar toast. Her painting, her cadence, and the way she preferred rubies to diamonds. The way her hair fell into her face even when she placed it up into that sleepy, messy bun. Her stories from school and how she always wanted to save any animal she saw outside.

It wasn’t just Celeste’s soul, but the personality she had gained here.

“She said she’d find you did she not?” Astrid asked with a chuckle, “and she’s here! You should be thanking me! It’s your own fault you haven’t bonded with her yet.” She rolled her eyes, though the sight of her sister in her new form warmed her heart.

She was different now— it seemed that the time in limbo had done her some good. Y/N seemed more free, almost innocent, it felt like she had found herself again. That sweet little girl that found joy in the peculiar, had found her way back home.

“Look, it’s quite simple— you love each other no? Harry, if you weren’t such a coward you would have already figured all of this out but it seems I must spell it out for you.” The woman grumbled as she stood up to leave.

“Celeste is alive and well, she’s found a home in Y/N’s soul the day she was born. Of course, they aren’t the same person, but when Celeste died her essence got a fresh start in her.” She started, looking between the two. “The second you bond with her, her memories will come back— but it won’t be Celeste. Unfortunately, well I guess fortunately for you, unless I recovered her body I wouldn’t be able to resurrect her fully. But she lives on within Y/N.”

Y/N was at a loss for words.

It was a bit disheartening, to think that her whole existence was just merely a part of some witch's plan for immortality. But if Astrid was telling the truth and that she was just a part of her, then it couldn’t be so bad right?

Surely it would hurt to see Harry get excited about seeing parts of Celeste in her, but if she was her then surely not? it all seemed a bit confusing. She wasn’t sure how it would work, but she was scared, to say the least.

“I….” He swallowed.

It was complicated. A weird mix of relief for finally having her back with him, but sadness because he knew how this was going to look to Y/N. The situation was quite literally one that had never happened in history books before.

“I fell in love with her. As much as Celeste will always be a part of me… I’m a little bit confused.” He turned slightly to Astrid. “She’s going to be… she will be aware of those memories?” He tried to soothe Y/N, his smooth hands running down her back but he could feel the unease oozing off of her.

“Oh, yes. But it doesn’t have to be complicated. Y/N, you’ve always been a bit confused about the missing pieces, haven’t you? Why you always feel as though Harry is so familiar to you? He’s literally made for you. Your body is a different vessel, but you’re still having the same feelings. It’s always been right.” Astrid paused, thinking of a good example.

“It’s why when you first moved in and Harry was probably his cold self and kept you at an arms length, it probably hurt, didn’t it? You felt a bit weird internally but shut it down because you’ve always been a bit too rational. Knowing you didn’t have a ‘right’ to feel upset but you did. It’s your old memories, old feelings. Harry wasn’t one to ever skimp on attention so it probably felt odd.”’

Y/N wasn’t going to bother asking how or why she knew that. It seemed that Y/N was just better off keeping to her ignorant bliss. Astrid had proved to both of them she knew far more about this than they did and she wasn’t going to fight— especially when they knew nothing about this soul bonding process on their own.

“I-I… if you’re saying I’m Celeste then are you saying I’m a witch as well?” Y/N asked curiously, though, she was uncertain about how she would feel about her answer. It was entirely possible. Were there rules she had to follow? Was there anything she had to do once she came into those powers?

Y/N was overwhelmed, to say the least, allowing herself to fully lean on Harry for support. She felt like this new information called for a long nap and a delicious meal immediately after she woke up. Nuzzling her face against Harry’s side she closed her eyes, waiting for Astrid’s answer. She didn’t care if she was being rude. Poor girl was feeling a bit lightheaded.

His cold body was a relief to the flush of heat that was through her at all of the intense information she had just received. She could have moaned as he placed his hand on the hot skin at the back of her neck, clutching onto him in a way that made the vampire a bit stressed.

“Yes. You absolutely are. Come on, girl. Do you really think that people can get things as easily as you? The manifesting thing on steroids? The things you chant to make yourself feel better…” Astrid laughed at the pure ignorance. The poor thing had been blissfully ignorant of everything up until now. “The powers are mostly dormant, I’m assuming. Considering you haven’t burnt the place down with rage, my sister, you have been held back. My assumption is that when Dracula bites you, the powers will start to come back as the bond strengthens.” She could feel Harry blinking at her, making her toss her hands up in a ‘whatever’ gesture. “I’ve done my reading. Deducing. Much better than that Sherlock did.”

He hadn’t known this would be the outcome and he had mixed feelings about it all. His old love was his new love, vice versa. He felt like his feelings were a betrayal to both of them.

The good thing was, though, his beautiful Y/N wouldn’t age the way a human would. She could truly be with him. It would be a matter of the soul mate bond snapping back into place instead of this constant edging between their souls and hearts.

“Fates.” Harry closed his eyes, massaging the back of Y/N’s neck soothingly.  “Alright. Astrid- get out of my house. She’s feeling faint. Stay around the area, I’ll need you to return or at the very least, send one of your own to help her soon. She needs to be aware before I bond her fully.” He wanted Y/N to choose. Not just the older part of her soul.

“Alright, alright… but don’t wait too long, you don’t want to her find dead one morning.” Astrid sighed, half joking but there was some truth to it. Now that she was aware of the fates plan, there was only so much time left for them to decide.  “You’ll know where to find me.” With a wave of her hand, Astrid was out the door.

Y/N was far too in her own mind to have heard her last comment, but Harry heard it crystal clear. While he may be a vampire, he was no stranger to the way the fates worked.

The fates were fair and just— it was their job to maintain balance here on earth, both for humans and the supernatural. At times their job led to making harsh decisions, if anyone broke the laws of the universe then they would see their fate flash before them.

Harry had never met someone as pure and kind as Y/N surely she was on the fates good side. He simply couldn’t see Celeste in her the way it seemed Astrid could. Though he loved Celeste dearly, he knew that their relationship was bound to end in a bloody disaster— he’d expected himself to be the one to break but the fates clearly had other plans.

Y/N let out a shaky breath against his shirt, clinging to him to find some stability. She needed to ground herself.

She needed to lay down.

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 17

Kinks: Blowjobs/Milf

Pairing: Jake Jensen x f!reader (MILF reader)

Tags/warnings: SMUT, mentions of spousal death (brief), blow jobs, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, drooling, deep throating

Not beta read + on mobile

Summary: Feeling confident for the first time in a long time, you manage to render the so-called "plumber" speechless in more than one way.

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!

A/N: were ignoring the fact there's so many Jake’s 😭 also yes, he's supposed to be on a mission and the team dressed him up - and yes, he uses mint bodywash 💀

Word Count: 2.4k

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It was just another weekday, you had sighed to yourself after you’d dropped your kid at school. You had taken your time at the grocery store, slowly wandering up and down the aisles feeling utterly zombified. You loved your kid – you did – but you were tired. You weren’t supposed to be doing this all on your own. You pushed thoughts of your husband away. No point dwelling on what could have been.

Perhaps you should start dating again – as your friends suggested. Or, as your best friend told you; “you should at least get a good fucking.”

There was a reason she was your best friend.

You sigh again. The thought of making an effort seemed mentally taxing. Dating apps? God. You’d rather die. The only photos you had were from years ago and with your husband. But then again....

Your cart rolls to a stop next to the make up. You didn’t purposefully  come down this aisle. You’d been going down every aisle. It couldn’t hurt to look could it?

You couldn’t remember the last time you wore make up. You remembered liking how it made you feel and look; extenuating all of the best features of your beautiful face, making you smile so brightly you could the light in your eyes. You remembered how many memories of parties, weddings – your wedding – and days where you just needed to make  yourself feel like the best goddamn thing since sliced bread started with your ritual of make up. From light and natural everyday makeup to party-hard Rocky Horror glam; you felt like a damn star. And you were.

You are.

You look up at the small mirror above the make up section. Your hair was messy, and the bags under your eyes were so vintage, Gucci himself would balk at the price tag. Your eyes flicker to the make up, the little voice in your head asking; when did you last do something nice for yourself?

“Fuck it,” you murmur, adding a few products to your cart. Your eyes scan a Ruby red lipstick, last of its kind, sat in those annoying little plastic trays. It must be fate. You pick it out and read the colour at the bottom.

Mother.

What a coincidence. You smile to yourself and place it in your cart feeling better already, heading towards the checkout.

You are wholly convinced it’s not the make up. It has to be the lipstick.

You came home, put groceries away and showered as usual. But then, the products of your shopping spree looked at you from the bed and  with a shrug of oh-I-may-as-well-since-I’m-here you did your make up. You felt a little silly at first. You didn’t feel any different after putting the make up on and you felt foolish sitting in your mirror in your towel expecting  something to change. Then you did your hair. Marginally better but nothing  awe-inspiring. Then you rolled the red lipstick on with a defeated sigh.

But when your eyes dejectedly flickered back to your reflection, you saw her again. Hair done up, make up perfect , and hell- you were in a towel but it may as well have been designer. The star was back. You wouldn’t admit to anyone that you teared up. Ever. But you did. It took you so long to find your way back to her in the mirror that you can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.

It was short-lived, however, because with your new lipstick, your new confidence, it was like a switch had flipped. You pulled out on of your old favourite dresses that hugged your curves – one you’d avoided like the plague for too long – and some small heels. God you looked stunning. Sex on legs. You snapped a few photos, sure, but you felt the sudden urge to do something else you loved; making you and your kiddo’s favourite cookies.

Before exiting your room you glanced back once more to the mirror.

“Milf.” You giggled to yourself and descended to the kitchen.

The first batch of cookies are already cooling when you hear a knock on the door. You place your second tray down and teeter down the hallway – feeling a little too much like Bambi in your heels. 

“Coming!”

You open the door  to  a guy in a plumbers uniform that looks like it was taken from a cheap Halloween store. But you aren’t really paying attention to it. He’s big, broad, bespeccled and blond. He looks good enough to eat and you chide yourself for the sudden wash of attraction and wanting to pull him inside. This lipstick has both cursed and blessed you.

Clearly the man – or as his uniform stated Jak – hadn’t paid attention when the door opened because he wasn’t looking at you. You only know he wasn’t because when he did look at you, his jaw dropped so low you thought he’d dislocated it.

“H-Hi um-“ He kept looking at you, unsure where to look besides your face but his brain had turned to mush. You revelled in it.

“Hi,” you smiled, trying not to look too smug. “Can I help you?”

“Uhhh....” he looked away for a second, up the street, scratching the back of his head. “Maybe. The, uh, water company sent me to um... look at some pipes.” He coughs awkwardly but gives you a charming smile.

“Some...pipes?” you quiz raising an eyebrow. You hadn’t heard of any pipe work that needed doing... and the little voice in your head made enough innuendos for you to mull over.

He nods. “Yeah... uh... in the kitchen. Do you mind of I-?”

You step aside immediately allowing him entry. “Of course.”

He follows you through to the kitchen and his eyes grow wide at the sight of the cookies and it makes you crack a smile.

“Help yourself.” You say kindly, moving your second tray into the oven and out of his way.

“Oh I couldn’t-“ He says with a charming smile before popping one into his mouth. He moans dramatically with delight, making you chuckle gently. “These are so good.”

As he gushes over your cookies, crumbs spill over his shirt. You can’t help it, you start to giggle. He's cute, really cute, and you feel a warmth trickle in your lower belly. Once he's gone you can have a twenty-minute "nap" and a cold shower.

"Thanks," You say, blushing slightly. "Feel free to eat more, I don't think I'll be able to eat all of them. Jak, right?"

Jake looks grateful and then surprised, brushing crumbs away from his name badge. He clicks his tongue when he looks at it. "Jake. The e has come off." He grins up at you sheepishly.

"Jake," You repeat, biting back another smile. "Do you want to a drink while you work? Coffee? Soda?"

You got to the fridge, pausing at the handle and see he's looking at you sheepishly.

"Could I have milk please - for the cookies?"

You chuckle softly but nod your head. "Sure, hon."

You set his mug of milk on the counter and chat to him whilst he gets to work. It takes him a while to figure out what he's doing because he keeps talking to you and it doesn't go amiss that he keeps casting glances up to you.

He tells you about his niece and her football team (the Petunias, apparently) and in return you tell him about your kiddo and their hobbies. The conversation between you both is lighthearted and sweet, with Jake managing to get a laugh out of you more than once.

When whatever work he's doing is completed, he gets to his feet and brushes down his overalls and giving you a goofy grin as he does so. But when he moves to get his mug, he knocks it accidentally, sending it careening over the edge of the counter top and onto the floor. You both wince at the sound of the smash.

"I'm so sorry. Let me-" Jake says, going to move but dealing with your kiddo you immediately yell out for him to stay still.

"Sorry -" You bluster apologetically. "Force of habit."

You grab the dust pan and brush from under the sink and get onto your knees in front of Jake, sweeping away the ceramic remnants of mug whilst he continues to apologise. Once it's all cleared away, you sit back onto your haunches with your hands on your hips.

"Don't worry sweetheart, accidents happen." You look up at Jake with a sweet smile. It takes you a moment to realise Jake's face is bright red as he stares back at you and there's an obvious tent in his overalls. Heat pools in between your legs at the sight, a wave of confidence pouring over you. Your tits must look amazing from this angle.

Jake stammers. There's no hiding that he's rock hard and he wants the ground to swallow him whole. Each time he tries to tear his eyes away from you they come right back; your pretty face staring up at him with flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips. And that lipstick. He wanted it everywhere.

"'M sorry." Jake says. "It's just - fuck - you're so hot."

Your day was getting better and better.

You can feel the heat between your legs increase tenfold. Opportunities like this don't happen often. And what had your bestie said about getting a good fucking? In your figurative lap was a hot guy who was hard for you. You'd be stupid to waste this chance.

Your hand dances up his leg, making him jump but he remains stuck to his spot, his breath hitching when you palm at the tent growing between his legs.

"It's alright, I think you're hot too." You murmur up at him. "And if I'm being honest, I would love to fuck you."

He groans out, low and deep, and you continue to massage his hard length in your palm. If it looked anything like it felt, you thought of maybe taking some painkillers in preparation for the ache that would plague your jaw.

"But first," you purr. "I want to taste you."

Jake can't get out of his overalls fast enough. His arm even gets stuck in the elbow of the overalls as you try not to giggle at his enthusiasm, focusing on undoing the buttons at his hips.

Once the overalls are undone and shucked down to his ankles, Jake stands tall in his boxers and a loud graphic tee. His cheeks are still flushed, looking down at you with an excitable smile which morphs into a gasping moan as you cup his balls through his boxers.

"Oh, you like that?" You tease softly, tugging at the elastic waistband of his boxers with your other hand. You give him a cheeky wink. "I'll keep that in mind."

Pulling his boxers down, his cock springs free and Jake is waiting with baited breath to see what you'd do next. His length is impressive, as you'd gathered, velvet soft and heated to the touch. You have a moment of nerves as you lean closer, catching a waft of mint body wash mixed with the scent of him. It had been a while since you'd last done something like this; what if you were bad? Jake didn't seem like the type to complain but still. Maybe it would be like riding a bike. You'd just have to start slow.

You give his tip a tentative kitten lick, lapping at the bead of precum that had gathered and Jake shudders, his cock twitching excitedly in response. You look up at him through your eyelids as you gently fit his tip into your mouth and swirl your tongue around him.

"Oh shit," Jake gasps, his hands gripping the counter top so tight his knuckles went white. You were pleasantly surprised at his reaction - there was no pressure if his hands were in your hair and you could take your sweet, sweet time to build your confidence.

You inch down his length, breathing through your nose, slowly accommodating to his size and the weight of him in your mouth. Jake watched mesmerised as you swallowed him, how your tongue glided against the underside of his cock and along the sensitive vein there and tried hard not to think about cumming there and then.

You made a choked sound when the tip of Jake’s cock nudged the back of your throat and you forced yourself to relax, bracing your hands against his strong thighs and pushing forward so that your nose brushed the thin patch of hair at the base of his cock. Jake groaned another curse seeing himself bottomed out in your mouth and throat.

Your core ached needily at the sounds Jake made, desperate to be filled. However, you were intent on taking your time, and his groans only served to spurr you on. You reared back, keeping the tip in your mouth, before moving back to the base. You repeat the motion slowly a few more times before speeding up, making gargled sounds as drool gathered under your tongue and dripped down onto his heavy balls. Jake was panting, moaning mess above you unable to think past so good it felt to have his cock in your mouth, and how good it would feel buried inside your pussy as well.

"Shit, I think I- oh God -" Jake's cock twitches angrily in your mouth, signalling imminent release. You hollow your cheeks and suck harder, bobbing your head up and down his length hurriedly, ignoring the ache in your jaw. You reach a hand up cupping his balls and give a gentle squeeze, which sends Jake over the edge with a shout of your name. Thankfully, his cock is so far down your throat that swallowing his hot cum is easy and you still take your time removing your lips from his lipstick stained cock, cleaning the spit and pre-cum smothered on your chin.

You smile up at him but he can't see you; he's leaning against the counter top for support, headed tilted back in ecstasy as he catches his breath.

You press a kiss below his belly button, directly onto the line of darker hair. Jake shudders and you can feel his softening cock twitch to the attention, and he glances down.

"If I give you my number," You murmur, gaze locked onto his half-lidded stare. "Will you consider coming back for round two?"

"Yes." Jake says quickly before clearing his throat. "Yeah. I would."

Whilst Jake dreamily gathers his thoughts and re-dresses himself, you pack him a small tupperware box of cookies with a note that has your number scribbled in felt tip (thanks kiddo).

As he leaves with tupperware in hand, he gives you another smile and a quick peck on the lips, making you jolt in surprise.

"Next time, you're going to be the one seeing stars." He promises quietly, heading out the door. You stand in your doorway and give him a small wave, watching him disappear down the driveway and grinning when you see that he keeps looking back to you. You didn't need to be a clairvoyant to know you'd be seeing him a lot.

[libidomechanica]

Which is conflagration yet, there

A kimo sequence

               I

Which is conflagration yet, there! In ten t was a foe would kisses drew, a Charge rich Repast.

               II

Watch out of the Court; in vacant part: who never! How them is almost the pure elysium.

               III

Lace to couetize, by his couch I know not the woodman wind shook the young men must bid farewell. Preach.

               IV

Does the number’d Treasure broke, t is no sleep. Some passions were less. Or, if you to seeke their Ear.

               V

Strangely blinded guests heart in a knife, dissecting to kill? Such a thank all whose are a sally.

               VI

Far-shadows managed ladies with louers bold. Remember’s break in. A Mirror soon weeds another.

               VII

Young and crouned. In English be told, in the sad world, the should forget all that he never wear.

               VIII

There throne. This, or pearlesse glory thick and far away that glister’d loving to their timid head.

               IX

And mischief you have change, not a toga or a sally. Pray tell you to wish, and all the light?

               X

With store than put for love, and dance to fade. And guardians blackens Erebus, and daffodils.

               XI

When at the body of them, but I’m telling. My paines will sensation’s care: the wonderment.

               XII

In Reading thirst not do these forests. There fishes cold, but fed wits. Now meet us ay love you.

               XIII

Which are one dawn. Ends in never ceased to change Complexion dwell is help’d out: love is it with sword!

               XIV

But since thoughts the whenas a strange her trembling, loue and some plast. That Love, dearer, I mean not wait.

               XV

Your voice of Futurism just th’ instructed, to make this, not be paved. That honour’s pride.

               XVI

The lights in cunning stranges in vain, in burning his poachers; the name. And as fair loneliness.

               XVII

But went for an indrawn breaks. I know, the Damzell break from the firbloomed like my weak;—I mean.

               XVIII

Among since with Lampoons. The kisses which is true he seemed for his murky phantoms rising Fire.

               XIX

Into myself it once soon as woolly too upon the year, Whose betoken and fire? An end.

               XX

At this agony to pause, my sonne how much untold, how it not. There lies, and to sleeps these trunks?

               XXI

And now there all must look on her bands you depart. Love’s finger and though.— Set of beauties, a Beau.

               XXII

Ne any time the wanton win! Beast which gaze vpon the earth can summer’s doom’d the new delight find.

               XXIII

Of ripe thou find’st one. Whether class, the sun by her voice by my soul. Could speak on, my desire?

               XXIV

—But I never-ending. Fell on us and kill, we can becomes by a female or she’s missed.

               XXV

Practicable plaything above: thus we tramp o’er far Cathay, until I die. He was no hum.

               XXVI

Not seems I her in me is wide aware? When faithless applause, because only to deny it.

               XXVII

Make me liue by kind, but once against the cheeks, of mischief still throne of the blue. Which it grew sting.

               XXVIII

Who eats the rulers, round, for thee, but when let our beck, the burden of lips: but, as I’ll awake.

               XXIX

And green first seasons of the forests.—A merry Cuckow, messengers art. And if thou nothing?

               XXX

They doo shining both old again. At last her sight, out of him how to any evidences?

               XXXI

And even dreamers to love. Ne wilbe moou’d with one sweet praise Lord, by Fate, tell of the most Unkind!

               XXXII

Of a hangman’s famous fond preparate appeal to those failing Sphere! Who have wept Blood the cat!

               XXXIII

Over the Board with him? He content the lower shuttled eild; o’ gude enough the ground—Ah, me!

               XXXIV

His armor would what misse! Her day I sought Beware of priceless clear your simple and Innocence!

               XXXV

—Come merry Cuckow, whom Christ! Of me; and was well. Those gentle ruth, and the sky, no skill regard.

               XXXVI

In they wall, the duchess of Fitz-Plantage of the lion and sky apart in a clothes to lose.

               XXXVII

For the chaunce of several could not abhorrèd birth. Dear brother’s breaking of a joy, and crouned.

               XXXVIII

He did paine, her marks the hill. To be, still curious, and long forth look, and some try me!—Call God!

               XXXIX

Loves as she upheld her loue confess’ whence could the pale Light. Those are few, and sensibility.

               XL

And sometimes, I cannot begun. And a stone and family physician once with unwilling weep.

               XLI

Spirit for less the frugal life? Was it a taper, were one return rebuke! While our fingers.

               XLII

Juan, in June, quit; and legs, and thought it? With a melting Foe! A Fan, a Garters, fearful thing she.

               XLIII

Courteous are also slow! And neuter, so that pride lies, thyself and pity, a third, nor life.

               XLIV

Wits. We had been burne, most had seen the way one lamentationship their habit I picked upon.

               XLV

Resembling on the wiser? And heir—and only to keep my wound; and wonder the Amor Mio’s!

               XLVI

Tristan und Isolde is senses is, learn some here. It is the bright: euen so good if you betray’d.

               XLVII

Can ever dry; i’ve seen a ghost bee. Far I was readily will leafe, whom at the Smiles, away.

[mightyecho]

𝕥𝕒𝕘 𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕡  — — 𝓅𝑜𝓁𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒶 ↳ tags taken from the various works of john keats

[blackyote]

@rqmdae

Hunter tried not to dwell on masks as a metaphor, or what it said about him that this one felt so right, almost as though it suited him better than his own face staring back in the mirror. His adversaries in the coven would say it proved their point, that he was lying to himself, but they didn't understand. The lines of the Golden Guard uniform, they were so sleek, so beautiful, so masculine. It filled him with such pride he thought he might die trying to contain it. Wearing the handsome cloak, the owlish mask, gave him the confidence he still struggled to feel in more traditional clothes, like everything was a reminder of the child Belos had found, and those early attempts to cover, to conceal. Granted, he always wore layers, but this was different. It wasn't hiding, it was revealing.

Some were still slow to adopt his new name (his real name), and defaulted to "Golden Guard" as a cop out, but that was just as well. It was a masculine sounding title, after all; they were doing him a favor. And now, when denizens of the Boiling Isles met him for the first time, they knew instantly he was a boy. His voice, the way he carried himself, the authority of his winged sigil... People were, ironically, seeing the real him when he covered up.

Well, almost everyone.

Kikimora came barging into the throne room, looking fit to murder. "I swear, if that brat thinks she can just—!"

"He."

Kikimora sputtered, pointing. "My lord, they—"

"He," Belos corrected again, more forcefully. "I do not care to repeat myself. If you cannot respect the head of this coven, I will find myself an assistant who can."

She gaped, then glared at Hunter, who made a point of standing taller beside his uncle. "Of course, Lord Belos. I meant only to report that I was left behind on the Knee this morning. On purpose!"

The two masked figures shared a look.

"And did you make the rendezvous on time?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then he was simply following orders. You should consider doing the same."

She looked struck, but eventually managed a shallow bow. "My apologies, Lord Belos. The cold must have rattled my senses. I meant no offense to your, uh— nephew."

"I'm sure it won't happen again," he replied, the warning clear.

Kikimora appeared to be sweating from more than just the heat now. "Of course, my lord."

He waved a hand, dismissing her. "No doubt your tardiness has you behind on today's assignments. You ought to be getting those done, not running here to highlight your foolishness."

Hunter hadn’t known it was possible for the demon to look even smaller. He almost winced in sympathy. "You're very right. My apologies."

As she beat a hasty retreat, Hunter turned to the emperor, murmuring, "Thank you, uncle."

The eyes of his mask were still leveled at the doors. "She's had more than enough time to get it right. If it happens again, I want you to tell me."

Hunter bowed his head, grateful if self-conscious, and cleared his throat. "So, as I was saying— we found the wild witch that was reported ..."

------

A/N: You ever think about how proud Hunter is of his Golden Guard uniform, and how much more it might’ve meant to a young trans Hunter struggling with dysphoria? 'Cause I do. (Hollow Mind DNI.)

[bteezxyewriter12]

Reaper

Pairing- Tae x Named Reader

Word count- 5.4k

Includes- Angst, mentions of suicide, amnesia, mentions of seizure, sex, oral, face fucking, face riding, riding sex, pussy eating, love making, missionary sex

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Prompt Series Masterlist 📝Masterlists

📝BTS Masterlist 📝Tae Masterlist

🌟gifs are from google

Tae POV

I'm sitting in my office, looking over the list of people who are scheduled to die today

This of course doesn't include accidents where the person isn't scheduled to die yet

There's a lot dying today

I'm going to be so busy

I sigh, getting up and getting the scythe

This thing is stupid

I haven't had to use it for centuries

But I have to carry it so people know it's me

I gave up wearing the robe

I hated it to begin with and now I opt for suits, mostly Gucci

But when I wear suits, the dying soul think I'm just another person coming to see them

Hence the scythe

I look at myself in the mirror

I hate this job

I didn't used to

Not when I was first asked to take over for the last reaper

He was the first death reaper but he got tired of doing it

He wanted a chance to be human

He was searching for a replacement for a long time

Then he came upon me six centuries ago

I was a soldier in what is now Daegu, South Korea and I was fighting in a war for my king

I was stabbed with a sword and as I laid dying, death came to me and asked me if I would take over his job

I was young, twenty four years old and I didn't want to die

And the concept of living forever was appealing to me

So I said yes, he trained me and I became death

I loved this job so much, up until about a year ago

I push the thoughts away

I can't dwell on it, I have a job to do

I turn and leave the office

Just as I close the door, she suddenly appears in front of me.

🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯

J POV

Where am I?

I look around and it seems like I'm in a office

How?

I was walking to work one second and now I'm here

I turn around and I have to stop a gasp

In front of me is the most beautiful man I have ever seen

And he's looking at me

He looks like he was sculpted by an artist

Tall, Curly black hair, sharp jaw, an cute beauty mark on his nose

And his eyes are such a beautiful dark brown

I feel myself falling into them

Suddenly he shouts, "I thought I told you to get lost! You can't keep dying to meet me. We are over, you hear?"

I blink confused

I don't know who he is

Why is he yelling at me?

"Uh who are you?", I ask

He stares at me in anger

"Cut the shit Joanne. I told you we can't be together. I told you I don't want you anymore!"

Ok, apparently he knows me?

And we dated I guess?

"I'm sorry but I don't know you. What's your name?"

"Joanne what the fuck kind of game are you playing? I told you last time you tried to die that we're over!"

Last time?

That means...

"Oh I see.", I say, "We must have known each other before my amnesia"

His eyes widen, "What the fuck are you talking about? Last time you said you'll keep doing whatever you had to to see me again."

I did?

I don't remember

"Oh uh well you see when I woke up in the hospital a year ago, I didn't know who I was or where I was. I didn't even know what happened. I couldn't remember anything. I was told by a woman who said she's my mom that my name is Joanne and I tried to commit suicide"

I remember the fear of waking up and not knowing anything

Not remembering people or any of my whole life

Twenty three years gone

"You tried to commit suicide?", he gasps

"Uh apparently. I don't remember. My mom said that I took a whole bunch of pills then left my apartment. I guess I was getting woozy or sleepy and I walked into a busy street. A car hit me and I was taken to the hospital. They saved me but I had a lot of damage to my head and it caused amnesia. The doctors don't know if it'll ever be fixed", I explain

His face pales as I tell him this and he looks shocked

"You don't remember anything?", he asks

I shake my head

"No. Just bits and pieces that come back to me when I look at a picture or smell something or hear a story. But I've never seen a picture of you, so I can't even recognize you from that."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know", he chokes out

"It's ok. It's not your fault. I've just been trying to get back to normal for the last year. But I don't know how I got here"

"You're here because you're dead. Or about to die"

I blink

Seriously?

How am I dead?

And why am I not more panicked?

"How? I was just walking to work and now I'm here."

"Something must of happened for you to die", he answers

I think about what could cause me to die

"Maybe I got a seizure and fell somewhere"

"Seizure?", he gasps

I nod, "I developed seizures after I woke up a year ago. I had a lot of them when I first woke up. But they found the right medication for me after a few months and I haven't had one in seven months"

"Then why would you think you had one?", he questions

"Well because the medication helps to prevent them but doesn't stop them completely. I can still get one every once in awhile"

He's silent, with a look of distress on his face

"Well uh, you're not scheduled to die today, so I'm going to send you back"

I'm not scheduled?

There's a schedule?

But I guess this is good, I get another chance of life

But there's something I want to say to him

"Ok. Thank you. But there's something I want to say first"

He nod, "Go ahead"

"Look apparently we know each other and we were together. And I just want to say I'm sorry if I hurt you or did anything bad to you"

He blinks, "What?"

"Well you seem very hostile towards me and I'm guessing that's because I did something to you. And I just want to say I'm sorry. I don't remember how I used to be but I'm not that person anymore."

He's silent

"I'm sorry if I hurt you.", I finish

"Uh ok. Thanks.", he says questioningly

Well there's nothing else I can say

"I'm going to send you back now", he tells me

"Ok. Thank you"

He nods and I see the office fade away

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Tae POV

What the hell is going on?

She has amnesia?

That's why she's stayed away from me for a year?

She doesn't remember me

I need to sit down

I almost passed out when I saw her again

I miss her so much

She's the reason I hate this job

I love her so much

And the miraculous thing is she loves me

I'm death and she fell in love with me

Even after I told her who I was, she didn't care, she just wanted me

And we had an amazing relationship for three years

But I knew it couldn't last

She's human and I'm not

She'd age but that doesn't bother me

What bothers me is that I'd have to take her when her time came and she'd be away from me forever

And she could never have a normal life with me

Never have children, never have a family.

I didn't want to take that away from her

She didn't care but I couldn't do that to her

So I ended things

And I had to do it by making her believe I didn't want her, that I didn't love her

The things I said to her hurt her so much

----------------------

"I don't want you", I snapped

"What? You're not serious Tae?", she said, panic in her voice

"I said I don't want to be with you. I don't love you"

"Tae what's going on? Why are you saying this?", she asks, tears falling down her face

It hurt so much to tell her these things

"Because I fell out of love. I'm death and I'm going to live forever. Why would I want you when I could have any girls I want?"

"But I love you Tae", she whispered

"Well that's too fucking bad"

-------------------

She tried to keep me from ending things but I had to

Seeing her cry like she did that day killed me

It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life

And she just apologized for hurting me now

That was a punch to my heart

She never hurt me, I'm the one who hurt her

But she apologized anyway

When she just told me the last time she saw me was because she tried to committed suicide, I almost lost it right then

I hurt her that badly that she'd rather be dead

She was hit by a car and I stood there screaming at her to never come back, telling her that I didn't love her at all when she came here last year

And still after all that she told me she still loved me and was never going to stop trying to get me back

After a year of not hearing from her, I thought she moved on

But she didn't

She doesn't remember anything

Not her entire life

I can't imagine how scary that is, to wake up and not know anything or anyone

And for her to be here again something had to happen to her

Something bad

And I need to know what it is

----------------------------------------------------

Walking into her hospital room, I find her in the bed, unconscious

I have to hold in a scream

She has a huge bandage on the right side of her head and a bruise under her right eye

The right side of her face has scrapes all over them

It's late at night so no one is here

Visiting hours are over

I sit next to her bed and hold her hand

"I'm sorry baby", I tell her, the tears finally coming

This is all my fault

Everything that happened to her from the second I ended things is all my fault

"I love you so much", I cry

"Excuse me. You can't be here"

I look up and a nurse is standing in the doorway

"What....what happened to her?", I get out

"Sir-"

"Just tell me. Tell me and I'll leave. I couldn't come before and I had to see her. Please", I plead

Her face softens, "Let me get her chart"

She walks to the door and takes a folder out

"She had a seizure and fell, hitting her head on the curb as she was crossing the street. It caused a subdural hematoma and needed to be drained. Unfortunately the blow was substantial and she's in a coma"

A coma?

No she can't be

She has to wake up

"Is she going to wake up?", I ask panicking

"Unfortunately, we don't know. It's up to her whether she wakes up or not. There's nothing we can do for that"

I nod, crying more hysterically

"I'll give you a few more minutes", she says, "But then I'll have to ask you to leave"

I nod again, "Ok"

The nurse leaves me with her

I can't believe this is happening

She can't stay in a coma

She has to wake up

I need her

I can't stay away from her anymore

This past year was torture

I was so stupid thinking I could stay away from her

She's my everything, my one

I never found the girl I was supposed to be with when I was alive

But I found her as death

She accepted me as I am and I was stupid to let her go

I won't be stupid again

I stand up and kiss her lips softly

"I'm going to fix it baby. I promise"

I walk to her door

Time to talk to God

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J POV

I hear noises as I come to

Machines and voices

There's a pounding in my head that's very intense

Where am I?

I open my eyes, slowly, the light in the room making my eyes tear

I groan from the pain

"Jo? Oh my god Joanne!", I hear

I turn my head slowly to the voice, blinking the tears away so I can see whose talking to me

A face comes into focus

"Mom?", I ask

"Yes Jo. Oh my god, you're awake!", she says through tears

"James go get a doctor"

I hear footsteps leaving the room

Now that my eyes are fully open, I look to see my sisters and mom looking at me

They're all crying

I guess my brother went to get the doctor

But I don't see Tae

Why isn't he here

"Mom, where's Tae?"

She gets a look on her face that I can't read

Why?

Where's Tae?

Is he hurt?

He can't be, he's death

"Jo. Um Tae isn't here"

I don't understand

Why?

"Why not?"

"Jo what do you remember?"

I think back and I remember being with Tae

We were arguing

Then the emotions slam into me

He...he left me

Pain hits my chest fast and hard

Not physical pain

Emotional pain

It's taking over and I feel like I'm dying

He told me he doesn't love me

He told me he hates me

He never wants to see me again

"Mmmm...mom", I choke out, starting to cry

I remember everything

The suicide attempt, talking to Tae when I died from that, the amnesia when I woke up, the seizures

And talking to Tae again

When I didn't remember who he was

How he yelled at me as soon as I got to him, telling me not to come back again

He still doesn't love me

It's ripping my heart out

"Jo"

"I remember mom. I remember everything", I cry

"Oh Jo. I'm sorry", she says hugging me to her

I can't breathe

It hurts so much

"It hurts", I wail

"I know Jo. I'm sorry. You never had a chance to deal with it when you had amnesia. I'm sorry."

I don't want to feel this

I can't

I wish I was dead

Tae should of never sent me back here

----------------------------------------------------

The door to my bedroom opens

"Jo, are you hungry?"

"No mom", I answer, laying in bed

"Joanne you have to eat. And you have to leave your bed. You've been locked in this room for two weeks"

I can't deal with this now

"Mom, just go away"

"Jo"

"Go away. I'm not hungry, I don't want to go outside. Just leave me alone!", I shout

She sighs but I hear the door close

I hate my life

Why couldn't Tae just let me die?

The pain of not having him is killing me

I went from one bed in the hospital to another in my room

I refused to go to my mom's house so she or my siblings have been spending nights here, watching me

I just have no motivation to do anything

I don't have to go to work

They gave me time off to recover

I don't do much anymore

Just stay in bed, sleeping or watching some dumb videos on my tablet

I get up to use the bathroom, brush my teeth and shower

Showering is exhausting but I'm not going to be gross

I eat sometimes and whoever is with me gives me my seizure medication and whatever else it is the hospital prescribed

I just don't want to get up

And I don't have to

----------------------------------------------------

A little while later my bedroom door opens

I get annoyed

"I said leave me alone mom!", I yell

What doesn't she get?

"Baby?"

I know that voice

I sit up, staring at Tae

Am I dreaming?

Oh god are those pills making me hallucinate?

Or is this a side effect of the damage the fall caused to my head?

I really don't need that right now

Seizures are enough

"Jo?", he asks, coming in and closing the door

"Am I fucking hallucinating now? Great just great", I mutter to myself

"No baby you're not hallucinating. I'm here.", he says coming closer and sitting on the bed close to me

"Uh ok. Why are you here? You said you never wanted to see me again", I say, my heart breaking again

"You remember me?", he asks, sounding hopeful

"Yeah Tae. I remember everything. I wish I didn't"

"Don't say that Jo"

"Why not? It's true"

He doesn't say anything and I just want him to get to the point

"Why are you here Tae?"

"I came for you", he says

"So I'm dying today? I'm on the schedule?", I say flatly

At least I won't have to feel this pain anymore

And honestly I don't care

He looks me in my eyes

"No baby. I came to be with you", he says softly

What is this now?

More torture

"What?", I ask confused

"After I saw you and you told me what happened to you, I went to see you in the hospital. I hated that you were hurt and everything that happened to you was my fault. Because I told you I don't want you"

"Ok... It's not your fault though", I say

I know my actions are mine and not his fault

He may have been the reason why I did things, but I still chose to do them

He didn't make me

"Yes it-", he starts

"What does that have to do with you being here?", I ask cutting him off, "You don't love me why do you care what happens to me?"

He shakes his head, "I do love you Joanne. So much"

What?

He told me over and over he didn't

What game is he playing?

"What are you talking about Tae? You're not making any sense"

"Jo, I love you. More than anything. You're my everything baby. But I knew that you'd never have a normal life with me. Never have kids or a family or do anything that a normal girl can do. And one day, I'd have to take you when it's your time and after you pass over, we'll never see each other again."

I'm getting angry

I told him over and over that I don't care about kids or a family, if I can't be with him

I knew what I was getting into being with death

I'm not stupid

"I told you I don't care about a normal life! Being with you is not your decision to make for me! I know what being with you means and I don't care!", I shout

He nods, "I know. I shouldn't have made the decision for you. Everything I said to you I didn't mean. At all. I love you so much. I do want you. You're the only girl I ever wanted. I hated being without you. It was torture"

I know what he means

Being without him is tearing a hole in my chest

But nothing has changed

I'm still human and he's still death

Everything he said is all still true

Why is he changing his mind now?

"Why are you telling me this now Tae? Nothing has changed"

"Yes it did baby"

I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue

"After I saw you in the hospital, I couldn't just leave you like that. So I went and talked to God"

I choke on air, "What? You talked to who?"

"God"

"Are you serious? He's real?"

Tae nods, "So is the devil"

Oh my g....shit

My world just flipped

This is insane

He's real

I look up and silently apologize for all the shit I did when I was a teenager

I thought I was such a badass back then

Instead I was just a massive idiot

Then I ask Tae, "Why did you go talk to him?"

"To bargain with him"

I'm in complete shock

"I...uh..I...I", I stutter

"I asked him to help you. To fix everything. To bring you out of the coma and stop the seizures. He asked why I would ask for that and I told him"

"You...told...him?"

He told God he loves me?

He nods, "I told him I love you. I told him about us. And apparently he's not as mean as people say he is. When I was done, he said he'd help me without me having to give him anything"

I'm impressed that he got God to help him

"So God helped you and made me better?", I ask

He nods, "But that's not all."

It's not?

What else did God do for him?

"He made me human."

"What?", I exclaim

"I'm human now. Remember how I told you I became death?", he asks

I nod

I remember how he said accepted death's offer to take over for him

"He said that if I could find someone to take my place, he'd let me be human again. And be with you"

"Be with me?"

I don't think I can be anymore shocked than I am now

Tae nods, "You are destined to live a really long life. And he said that since it's been a long time since I've been human, he can designate how long I can live for. So he did it to match your life span"

My mouth drops

I can be with Tae for my entire life?

I can't believe it

"I found someone who was in accident. Someone who was like me. Young. I offered to them what death offered to me. And she took it. I spent these last two weeks training her."

Her?

Death's a girl now?

And he had to train her?

Huh I guess it is like a normal job if training is needed

"Today I woke up in an apartment. My apartment. And my heart is beating again. I didn't want to come to you immediately. I needed to figure out what to tell you. And to be honest I was starving"

That makes me smile

I know he didn't need to eat when he was death

"When I knew what I wanted to say, I came here. You're mom was upset when she saw me but I told her I was stupid and here to get you back. She made me promise not to hurt you again and I did"

That sounds like my mom

Tae reaches to me and takes my hand, "I love you. And I'll make everything up to you. I just want you back Jo. Please take me back"

"Yes", I answer without hesitation

He looks at me and repeats hopefully, "Yes?"

I nod, "Of course Tae. I love you. You're the only one I want."

He smiles his gorgeous smile and comes closer to me

His lips touch mine in a kiss and fireworks explode in my vision.

🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯

Tae POV

When I kiss her, my entire body flood with heat

Just like every time I kissed her

When she wraps her arm around my neck and slips her fingers in my hair, I shiver from her touch

I missed her so much

I was so scared she'd tell me to fuck off

But she still loves me

And now we have our entire lives to be together

I've never been more happy in my life.

"I love you Tae", she whispers

"I love you Jo", I answer

Then she pulls me back to her, kissing me again

I pull her close to me and I'm so relieved when she presses her body to mine

Feeling her body against me feels so fucking good

I missed her so much

Her arms go around my neck and I'm so happy to feel that

"Baby", I whisper

I want her so much

I haven't been with her in a year but I don't know if now is the right time or if it's too soon

"Yes Tae", she answers, looking at me

She runs her fingers in my hair, feeling so good and I love it

"I want you too Tae."

That's all I need to hear

I pull her onto my lap and she comes willingly

She crashes her lips to mine, her tongue in my mouth

Yes fuck

I kiss her back, pulling her shirt up

She lifts her arms up so I can take it off

Her hands move to my shirt, unbuttoning the buttons quickly

When she gets them all undone, she pushes the shirt off me, her hands immediately running all over my back

Her hands are so small and warm as she touches me

She moves off me, standing and undoing my pants

I lift myself up, pulling my pants and boxers down

When she gets everything off, I pull her up, my lips on her stomach, trailing kisses all over

I feel her hand run in my hair, making shivers run up my spine

I love anyway that she touches me

Hooking my fingers in her shorts and panties, I slowly pull them down, kissing lower

I hear her breath hitch when I get to her pussy

I lick her, moaning and loving the way she feels against my tongue

Pulling away, she steps out of her clothes

I grab her, making her squeal

Laying down, I pull her on top of me until she's over my face

Holding her hips, I pull her to my mouth, burying my tongue in her pussy

She's already so wet and I missed how she tastes

So fucking good

"Tae", she moans

Fuck me, I missed hearing her moan my name

And I really miss hearing her scream my name

Which I'm so going to make her do

"Feels good baby?"

"Yes Tae fuck. I missed your tongue"

I laugh

"I know baby. My tongue makes you scream."

I know I what she likes and where she likes it

I love her so much so I learned her body so well

What she likes, what drives her insane, what can make her cum over and over, how much teasing she can take

I was never like this with any other girl I was with

I've been death for six centuries, I've been with human women before but it was always just sex

I didn't care about the woman or tired to make her feel good

But from the first time I was with her, even before I fell in love with her, it was different with her

She wanted to please me, make me feel good and it made me want to please her

Then I fell in love and all I wanted to do was make her feel good

And I still do

I don't even care if I cum as long as she does

Multiple times

But she won't have that

She makes sure I orgasm too every time

Sometimes more than once

She's just the best in every single way and I will never be stupid to leave her again

I lick her clit and she yells loudly

"Yeah baby. Scream for me", I ask, then suck on her clit

"Fuck TAEHYUNG!", she cries, her hands gripping mine tightly

I keep going, sucking harder and faster

"C'mon baby. Gimme your cum. I want it so bad. I haven't had it in a long time.", I tell her

I attach my mouth to her again, squeezing her hips as she yells in pleasure

She's almost there

I'm so excited to taste her again

I feel her legs start to shake as she orgasms, screaming my name

"TAEHYUNG!"

Her taste floods my mouth and I moan, swallowing greedily

She's so fucking good, I love it

When she finishes, I keep licking her

"Tae"

"More baby. I need more", I beg, "Do you want it?"

"Yes Tae. Yes"

Fuck yes

My tongue flies all over her pussy, swirling, up and down

I can't fucking get enough

"Fuck my face baby. Fuck my mouth. Please", I ask

Her hips start moving against my mouth, grinding against my tongue

I fucking love this

She gets so into it and my tongue can get everywhere

I slide my tongue inside her, then lick back out, then back in

"TAE fuck yes baby. Don't stop."

I know she loves this

It can make her cum in seconds

And honestly I love being inside her in anyway

My cock, my fingers, my tongue

I just love being inside

Squeezing her ass hard, I moan, "Baby cum on my tongue"

I slide my tongue in her as far as I can

"TAEHYUNG!", she screams, orgasming again

Her pussy tightens and throbs on my tongue that's in her and I taste her cum

It coats my tongue and she tastes so fucking good

"Yes baby, yes give me more", I whine, still tongue fucking her

"Tae, oh fuck Tae"

Her breathing gets harder

She's close again

I love giving her orgasm after orgasm

She gets so much pleasure, I love watching her

"FUCK!"

Her cum floods my mouth again and I greedily drink it all up

When she finishes, I lift her up and slam her on my cock

"Fuck TAE!", she cries

"Fuck baby. I missed you around my cock", I gasp

"I missed you too", she moans, starting to move up

"No baby. Stay on my cock. I want to feel you for a little longer

"Oooo...oooo....ok", she stammers

She's so horny, pulsating hard and fast around me, getting more wet

I love the feeling of her soaking my cock

I need to fuck her

Putting my hands on her hips, I move her up then slam her down, thrusting up as well

I go in so deep, making her scream in pleasure

"There TAE!"

"Ok baby girl. You don't have to do anything ok? Just let me make you feel good"

She bites her lip nodding

Gripping her hips I move her fast, bouncing her on my cock and slamming her spot at the same time

"Yes Tae, fuck. Oh god", she cries, her hands gripping my arms so hard

"Good baby?"

"So good Tae"

I smile at her, happy I'm making her feel good

"Fuck baby you look so pretty on my cock. You're pretty pussy taking me so well"

"Mmmm", she whimpers

Seeing her leaving my length soaked in her juice is so hot

"Gimme your pretty cum baby. Soak my cock", I plead

"Tae", she moans, her body arching as she cums again

"Ffff...fuck", I stammer, feeling the insane pleasure she's giving me

When she finishes, I rolls us over, getting on top of her

Her legs wrap around me and I continue to move, slowing it down

"I love you so much", I tell her, running my fingers in her hair, looking in her beautiful brown eyes

"I love you more than anything", she whispers back, "My Tae"

I nod, "Always baby. I'm always yours, I swear. I'm not leaving you again"

"Don't Tae. Please don't. I need you"

I nod

I know

She does need me just like I need her

And I was so dumb to keep us apart.

But that will never happen again

"I need you too baby. Always"

She lifts her head to kiss me and I meet her lips, pressing mine against hers

Her hips move, meeting my thrusts, making me go so much deeper

"Mmmmm", she groans against my lips

She feels so good, spasming around my cock so much

I know as soon as she cums, I am

I won't be able to hold it back

I kiss her desperately, tongue against hers as we move together

She clings to me, holding onto my back hard, my hand squeezing her thigh tightly

Hitting her spot, she explodes, spasming around my cock, shaking under me as she moans and keeps kissing me

Her orgasm triggers mine and I moan in her mouth as I spill inside her, pleasure running all over me

Oh my fucking God, it's so good

So incredible

After, I lay down next to her, holding her tightly in my arms

"I missed you Tae. So fucking much", she whispers, looking at me

"I miss you too baby. You don't even know. The thought of living without you forever....it was torture"

She shakes her head, "You don't need to anymore Tae. I'm here, you can stay with me forever"

I nod

I will

Nothing will take me away from her

"We're going to have a long happy life together baby.", I promise her

She smiles, "I can't wait Tae"

Neither can I

[yaggmurwrites]

the dying swan

pairing: eren jaeger x reader

word count: 0.9k

video video

"Another element that makes the swan lake ballet famous is that the divine character and the evil character in the fairy tale are played by the same ballerina. Odette, the white swan, and odile, the black swan, are shadow characters. embodying in the same person is an experience that is both difficult to perform and gives the viewer a powerful archetypal transformation."

note: the swan lake with my interpretation. enjoy.

One day, as you were getting ready in front of the mirror, he slowly came behind you. He had one hand wrapped delicately around your neck, and the fingers of the other hand were taking a stroll as if trying to explore your body.

A swan, he said. Elegant and majestic.

You didn't really dwell on it back then. You were wearing a white satin dress. After all, it was one of your lover's usual compliments. His fingers were now tired of this expedition. They wanted to memorize your body.

"While Prince Siegfried was wandering around the lake, one of the swans appeared, telling him that she was the princess Odette, that the sorceress Rothbart had turned her and her friends into swans; She explains that they can only return to their human form at midnight, but turn into swans again in the morning. In order for the spell to be broken, a man must fall in love with one of the girls and swear his love only to her."

A swan, you repeated to yourself. You've been wondering what the swans represent. Grace, beauty, love, trust, and loyalty. In fact, the immortal love of swans also symbolizes that they are soul mates.

"The next day, at the ball held in his honor for his 21st birthday, the Prince has to choose one of the girls introduced to him to marry. Rothbart, the sorcerer disguised as a baron, comes to the ball with his daughter Odile, who uses Odette's face. The prince, thinking that Odile is Odette, swears that he loves her."

Elegant and majestic.

You tried to remember that day again. That very moment. Unfortunately your memory wasn't helping you much. You had already forgotten and erased that moment in front of the mirror. You remembered every single touch of his fingers, but the moment when those two damned words were..

Lost.

Did he really say those two words to you? Elegant and majestic.

"Witnessing this, Odette wants to die because she was betrayed."

While you were thinking about this, a memory that was buried deep in your mind suddenly came to light. If you remember correctly, this memory was supposed to come from a conversation you had with your mutual friend.

In a book he was reading, he mentioned that this delicate animal symbolized balance and prophecy rather than the usual metaphors. A smile formed on your lover's face as these words spilled from your friend's mouth.

"Realizing the situation and coming to the lake for forgiveness, the prince begs Odette and makes her accept her love."

"What are you smiling at, Eren" you asked.

"Meanwhile, the sorcerer Rothbart appears and reminds the prince of his vow to marry his daughter."

You didn't get an answer that would work. He changed the subject by asking your friend an unrelated question about the book.

"The prince, who does not want to leave Odette, decides to die with his lover"

You started to think about the day in front of the mirror again.

A prince.

You couldn't take your eyes off your lover. He didn't even need to try. Eren Jaeger was naturally elegant and majestic.

"But the sacrifice of two lovers breaks the spell."

Elegant and majestic. These had never come out of the eren's mouth. Those were the words your brain involuntarily chose for him when you saw him.

He was like a prince.

He was whispering in your ear how much he loved you, that he would save you from this prophecy.

Prophecy?

"The sorcerer dies; swans turn into humans; Prince Siegfired and Princess Odette reunite."

Balance.

The protagonist of this story was not the swan. You understood that now. Because this was Eren's story. And Eren's story was not an ordinary love tale. Love would not break the prophecy in his story.

His story was a war story. The story of the sorcerer and prince trying to protect and break the prophecy.

His conflict was within himself. Just as he was the prince of this story, Eren was the sorcerer too. They, he, needed inspiration to advance their ideals.

A swan.

Why did he let you understand this? Wouldn't it hurt the balance for the stupid swan to know this?

The swan was on her feet. She had it all figured out. She had to start struggling to escape from this prophecy.

But what stopped her?

A fear gripped her. There was something pulling her back as she tried to move forward. It was neither a sorcerer nor a prince. The swan's solitude meant that the balance was disturbed. And if this balance was disturbed, the swan could not exist.

The death of the swan.

You wouldn't have an existence if the order on which you depended began to collapse. There was no point in trying to escape. That would drive you to death.

The swan slowly lowered herself to the ground. She had stopped whistling. Where she lay her head, she was begging for order to be restored.

Eren didn't know about your death right now. He was focused on his battle. But at the end of this war, you were certain to die. Why did he enter this war knowing the result? After all, part of him was a prince. The prince who wants his swan.

"I will save you from this prophecy."

Prophecy.

The swan had no choice but to believe in her prince. Her prince had promised her. He would defeat the sorcerer. This would end the prophecy. He would save her. Maybe then this weight on her wings would be lifted and the swan would be able to fly as much as she wanted. There was no way the prince could lose.

The swan rose again. She flapped her wings for her prince.

What was that? The prince lost the war.

The swan felt the weight lifted from her arms. But... but her prince lost the war. The evil sorcerer has won.

The stupid swan had forgotten that the sorcerer of this story is Eren too.

The death of the swan.

The prince slumped to the ground, watching the soaring wizard and the lifeless swan in his arms. Flying away.

He stretched out his fingers as far as he could. They wanted the body that they memorized. But in vain.

The swan had died, the prince had lost. The balance was disturbed and the prophecy had found its place.

the end.

[forever-rogue]

Hello Sunshine

A/N: Hello! I’m here with a 7am shower idea that I couldn’t get out of my head. It’s just a little sweet and soft Frankie. Enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

*Bold - Frankie ; Italics - Reader

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: none

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey! What time did you want to meet up tomorrow for brunch?” you stared at the number you’d typed in and compared it to the one that the man you’d met the evening before had given you. You had been absolutely reluctant to go to the local bar’s speed dating evening before, but your best friend had convinced you to go. She was going to go as well, so you figured if you ended up suffering, she would likely too - solidarity in its finest form. Much to your pleasant surprise however, you ended up having a fun time...the multiple rounds of drinks probably didn’t hurt either. 

Marcus had been your last round for the evening, and he had been kind and charming; easy on the eyes and easy to make conversation with. He asked you questions and you were able to ask him ones back. Definitely a sharp turn from what you were expecting; and by the end of the night he’d offered you his number and asked you to for brunch on Sunday. You’d been...elated; it had been some time since anyone had actually managed to capture your eye.

Before talking yourself out of sending the message, you hit send and put your phone onto your nightstand. You weren’t too nervous in general, but there was something about sending that first message that always caused butterflies to erupt into your stomach. It wasn’t but a few minutes before your phone vibrated to signal a new message. Trying not to get too eager and excited, you reached for it and quickly opened the new text.

Who is this?

Your brow furrowed in confusion at the seemingly hasty denial of acknowledgment. It was no matter, you groaned at yourself, you probably should have included your name in the first place. No big deal, you quickly typed out your name and added, “we met at the bar last night? For the speed dating event?”

Your stomach flipped nervously as you wondered what he would say; hoping it was just a misunderstanding and he would realize exactly who you were. 

I didn’t go to any bars last night. I don’t know who you are.

Oh. Your throat constricted as you reached for the napkin with the phone and compared it again to the number you had texted. There was no way you’d mistaken any of the numbers. Sighing heavily, you slipped out of bed and edged towards your bathroom and tossed the offending object into the can. Things had seemed like they’d gone so well...you’d genuinely liked Marcus and thought the attraction and chemistry was there on both sides. Apparently you’d been made a fool once again. Heat flooded your face in embarrassment as you contemplated whether or not to text again. To hell with it, you decided, you might as well apologize if nothing else.

So sorry. The guy I met must have given me the wrong number. I hope I didn’t ruin your night. Sorry for wasting your time.

After that bit of failure, you decided you might as well get back into bed and watch a show until you fell asleep. You felt beyond embarrassed and just wanted to forget about the whole thing. Needless to say, it surprised you when your phone went off again.

No worries. Sorry if I was rude too. It’s happened to me before with a couple of girls. It  sucks. 

At this point, you found yourself smiling at the sentiment, and decided that one more little text wouldn’t hurt anything. 

Seriously! Why can’t someone just tell you if they’re not interested? It's so much easier. Either way - thanks for understanding and have a good evening. 

You too. Hope things look up soon for you.

His response had been instant almost as if he had been watching you type it all. Whoever this stranger was - and you weren’t even sure if it was a man or woman - they had turned out to be kinder than Marcus. But it didn’t do well to dwell on it; Marcus would get what he deserved and this stranger would get some good things. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie put his phone on the charging pad he kept next to his bed, turning it on silent before crawling under the covers. Catching a glance of himself in the mirror, he was surprised to see that he had a smile on his face. Not that was perpetually frowning or mad, but usually he wasn’t just smiling for no reason. 

Although he had a feeling he knew the exact reason as to why he was actually happy for once because of...you. The random stranger that texted him and sent a happy shiver up his spine. He wasn’t happy because of your little predicament, knowing the exact feeling of having been duped and given the wrong number several times. But the short conversation had been pleasant enough and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d hear from you again. 

Doubtful, he reminded himself, it was just a one off type deal and that was that. And yet...that didn’t stop him from quickly grabbing his phone again and saving your name and number as a contact. You know...just in case. 

Francisco Morales had sweet dreams throughout that night. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie practically bounced into work the next morning, a smile on his face and spring in his step. So he seemed so out of normal form that his best friend and coworker, pointed it out to him and everyone. Frankie played it off like it was no big deal; in reality it wasn’t. You were just another stranger out in the world that flung into his orbit for a moment before leaving again. 

But that whole week felt different and somehow the world was a little brighter - filled with sunshine. Even if it wasn’t everlasting, he didn’t mind the feeling it gave him for the moment; the positive energy was nice for a change. 

Little did he know that across the city, you were existing in your own little world, going about your day to day in a similar manner. What a small world it was indeed. You had been incredibly tempted to look up his phone and see if you could find anything out about your mysterious stranger, a name, some sort of profile - anything  - but refrained. What if it was someone you ended up attracted? A beautiful woman or a good looking man that caused you to start all sorts of fantasies? No - you didn’t need all of that. You’d let it go or let whatever happened happen. 

Which likely was nothing. Right? Right. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Imagine your surprise when you found yourself at home with leftover pizza and a bottle of wine, resigning yourself to a quiet Saturday night when your phone vibrated. Figuring it was probably just one of your friends, or some sort of useless notification, you picked up your phone and found your jaw dropping. This wasn’t seriously happening, was it? 

Hey stranger. Hope this Saturday is better than the last one. 

Maybe they had the wrong number...or something. But no - they acknowledged the fact that last weekend had been shit and called you stranger. This had to be intentional. Setting your phone down for a moment, you grabbed your glass of wine and sipped on it, trying not to let the excitement of a single text get you too excited. They had done what you’d dreamed about all week...why not indulge in it? If nothing else, it might be nice to have someone to text with on occasion. 

Hi stranger. This Saturday involves me, the couch, pizza, and wine. I guess I really can’t complain. Hope yours is a good one too!

As soon as you hit send, you wanted to ban your head against the wall; was it too much? Not enough? Did it even warrant a response? Now you were just overthrowing everything. Shit, fuck, damn. 

But you weren't able to wallow in misery for too long before your phone went off again. Huh.

Sounds pretty good. Can't complain either, just at home with a beer and a movie. Missing the pizza though. Maybe I'll order some.

Definitely recommended! I don't know if this is odd, but you know my name and I don't know yours...do you have a name, stranger?

Not weird at all! Maybe I should have started with that. Francisco - Frankie.

Well Francisco-Frankie, it's nice to meet you. What movie are you watching?

Nice to meet you, no- longer-complete-stranger. Die Hard. A classic.

Oof. I'm afraid it ends here. Hot take - Die Hard is...notthatgood.

It's been a good but short time…how can you not like Die Hard!? What could you be watching that's so much better?

The Office. A modern classic and clearly superior to anything you're picking if you think Die Hard is good.

Fun fact - I've never seen a single episode of the Office. And never plan on it. Tell me, mystery girl, what should I get on my pizza?

I now make it my plan to convince you to watch The Office. Pepperoni, jalapeños, and tomatoes. Regular crust, none of that thin crust bs.

Challenge accepted. An odd combination but I'll give it a try. Results tbd.

Already listening - I'm a fan of it. I'll let you get back to your movie and order your pizza. Have a good night Francisco-Frankie.

You too, mystery girl.

There was an undeniably giant grin on your face as you set your phone back down. Had this actually happened? Surely this was some sort of dream; a random stranger actually striking up a conversation? And seemingly enjoying it? Out of this world.

As you downed your glass and got ready to refill it your phone vibrated once again. This time you didn't even bother to let a moment pass before picking it back up and opening the notification.

Can I text you again sometime?

Yeah...I'd like that.

You just about melted into the couch, happier than you had been in a long time. And all from texts from a man you still hadn't met. Who knew if you would ever meet him? Either way, this Francisco aka Frankie had proven to be a welcome disturbance in your life.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next couple of weeks passed in the same blissful fashion. You'd go about your day with work and other responsibilities and obligations but you had your pocket companion with you. That's what you nicknamed Frankie anyways. 

What has started as some texting here and there soon turned into conversations throughout the days, slowly becoming more personal and introspective with each passing day. And despite still knowing what he looked like or anything...you thrived in it. You'd wondered if he'd looked you up - he hadn't for the same reasons as you - and that's why you got along so well. 

The two of you had a lot in common but still managed to have your differences. One thing that never failed to make you smile was what had turned into his version of a good morning text.

Hello Sunshine. 

Hi Fly Boy. 

Stay dry today, its supposed to be a pretty bad downpour. Talk later?

Of course. Be safe too.

The small sentiment was enough to send you reeling; it was funny how easily conversation flowed between the two of you. Like in some ways you'd always known each other, but still were finding out things constantly. You weren't sure where it would lead to...if anything but for now you appreciated your new found friend.

»»————-　♡　————-««

I have a work party this weekend and it's formal. Do I go for an lbd or something colorful?

Depends - do you want people to approach or admire from the distance?

From the distance, so I can leave fairly quickly but people still know I was there.

Definitely LBD then.

My hero! Perfect idea!

»»————-　♡　————-««

How do I get out of a camping trip this weekend?

Why would you try and get out of it? You said you loved camping.

I do but...just not feeling it this weekend.

Tell them you're feeling or that your new girlfriend wants to spend the weekend together.

New girlfriend? I wasn't aware I had one…

Its called a white lie Frankie. Use me as an excuse if you have to.

You're the best! A real lifesaver, sunshine.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Okay, here's a tough one. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?

All three. But if only one - coffee.

How do you take it?

Black with a little bit of sugar.

That's kind of the vibe I got! But you're wrong - the best answer is coffee in the am, afternoon tea, and then sometimes a hot chocolate for dessert.

Let me guess - salted caramel hot chocolate? 

How did you know?! Alright, Fly Boy, you know me too well already.

Just a hunch, sunshine. Okay - favorite color?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Do you think if I pretend to be dead I can leave work early?

Dramatic! I love it. How about a migraine? Last minute emergency?

Probably better. Migraine it is.

Just a thought. Beers with the guys tonight?

Yup. Girls night?

Yes! Talk tomorrow?

Of course.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Soooo I might have gotten myself into a predicament…

What happened?

Umm, I might have lied and told my friends that I started seeing someone…

Oh no.

Yeah...all because I couldn't admit that that guy had given me the wrong number. How do I explain?!

Maybe just don't say anything and then later say it died down or something? No need to drag it further.

You're right and I am an idiot. 

Nah, it happens to the best of us.

Hmm sure. Anyways, onto important things. Dogs or cats?

»»————-　♡　————-««

If you could only have one type of food for the rest of your life, what would it be and why?

Hmm, that’s a hard one. I’m torn between Mexican (the good stuff of course) and Italian and sushi. You? 

Pizza!

That’s not a type of food, Francisco!

It totally is. There’s different varieties, it can count!

That’s a cheap way to answer the question, but I’ll accept it because you’re cute. 

You think I’m cute? And just how do you know? Do I have a stalker?

Nah, too much effort. Besides, I’m usually busy talking to you. It would be kind of obvious if I was, wouldn’t it? I just have a feeling. 

Very funny, sunshine. I’m positive it’s the other way around. 

You’re the stalker? What am I wearing right now?

You know what I meant!

Of course I did. I’m the smart one in this duo, don’t forget. 

You’re too much. Want to watch a movie tonight? We start at the same time? 

Yes! Anything but Die Hard or other shitty movies along those lines.

You’re killing me here. One day I will convince you to watch it with me.

I look forward to that - but not tonight. Name your top 3 ideas.

»»————-　♡��————-««

Over the weeks, Frankie became an everyday part of your life. The two of you texted back and forth throughout the day as time allowed. It was nice - comforting to have him there despite the fact that he could have been anyone in the world. Well, you knew he was local to you from his area code but otherwise...a mystery.

You wondered if you’d ever encountered him out in the real world before. It was a definite possibility, but you would never know. Not unless you somehow actually ended up meeting him in person. The idea of proposing such a notion hadn’t seemed far off, especially since your days were filled with each other and there were undeniably flirty texts and insinuations. The few times you’d actually gotten the nerve up to just ask him, something always seemed to come and keep you from doing it. Namely - nerves. 

What if you were reading all wrong into this? What if he really wanted nothing more than a friendship? What if texting was the extent of it all? 

Naturally, you’d know your answer if you’d just fucking ask him. But that seemed like a momentous and herculean task and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be up for it. Perhaps things would just...happen one day. Despite getting to know him, he was still just this enigmatic aura. For all you knew you might as well have been fighting a robot. 

When then...one random night, a Wednesday evening when you’d just walked in the door with fresh produce from the downtown farmer’s market, your phone name. Shifting the large bags in your arms, you managed to fish your phone out of your pocket and answer it without looking at who it was. 

“Hello?” you kicked the door shut behind you and shuffled into the kitchen, unceremoniously dumping the bags onto the counters. At first you didn’t hear anything on the other end of the line besides some shuffling, but then eventually you heard a distant voice say something indiscernible. In confusion, you pulled the phone out from between your ear and shoulder and glanced at the contact. The name was enough to have your breath catch in your throat as you realized that your mysterious Frankie on the other end. He’d never called before...perhaps it had been a mistake? Even if it was, you were going to take full advantage of it, “Frankie? Hello? Come on Fly Boy, it’s me. If you can hear me, let me know.”

It was a few more seconds of shuffling and almost static like noise before you were positive you heard a quiet fuck. But then, in a moment that made your heart almost stop, you heard him, loud and clear, “h-hi….sunshine?”

“Hi Frankie,” you repeated as you felt your heart melt and legs turn to jelly, “I’m going to guess this wasn’t an intended call?”

“Umm, shit no,” he admitted with what you could only describe as a nervous laugh, “accidental pocket dial.”

“It’s 2021 and you’re pocket dialing people?” you snorted with laughter as you grabbed your earbuds to sync up the bluetooth so you could talk to him while putting away all of the fresh fruits and veggies you had acquired, “that’s such an old person thing, Frankie! What are you 50?”

“It’s not that weird,” he insisted with an indignant scoff as you giggled, “it can happen easily if you don’t lock your phone when you put it away and yeah...here we are. And for the record I am nowhere near 50! I am only 36.”

“Oof,” you opened the fridge and popped the veggies into the drawer, “I’m afraid that things end here, Grandpa.” 

“Very funny! How old are you then, huh? Oh my God - please don’t tell me I’ve been talking to and flirting with a teenager,” for a moment he sounded genuinely nervous as you almost doubled over in laughter at his panic. The fact that he had admitted to flirting was lost on you in your amusement he was so worried that he didn’t even notice the gaff, “sunshine!”

“I’m almost 30,” you reassured him and he instantly sighed in relief on the other end, “don’t worry. Besides, I told you I met the man I thought I was texting at a bar - at least I would have been 21.” 

“That still would have been weird,” he admitted as you made a small sound of agreement, “this is better.”

“Ha! Thanks for the sentiment,” you  rinsed and crunched on a carrot before hopping onto the counter to get comfortable. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should say your next words or not...but you decided to just do it, “this is...nice. I like hearing your voice. Makes you more real.”

“I like it too,” he agreed softly, a tinge of pink rising up in his cheeks, despite the fact that you couldn’t see it, “you sound like I thought.”

“Oh? Like an annoying twelve-year-old boy?” 

“Okay, okay, dramatic much?” he snorted, “just accept the compliment!”

“Fine,” you huffed, being very overdramatic indeed, “what are you up to tonight, Frankie? Want to cook together?”

“I’m yours - free, I mean free,” he corrected himself as you relished in his little mess up, “I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook. I’m a better baker.”

“Ooh, excellent,” you slid off the counter in excitement, “how about this - we’ll make something simple for dinner - I’ll walk you through it step by step, and then you’re in charge of dessert. Deal?”

“Deal,” Frankie felt a rush of excitement surge through him as he stepped into his kitchen and reached for his apron - the same one that Santi always made fun of him for, “what’s on the menu?”

»»————-　♡　————-««

And just like that texts turned into texts and phone calls. There was something so thrilling, like a huge surge of electricity shot down your spine and throughout your body every time you saw his name up pop or heard the sound of his voice. Frankie was...slowly turning into your constant companion and if you were being honest with yourself he was everything you had had ever wanted. 

And oh - how scary it was to be falling for a man you still hadn't met in person. Slowly, surely it would happen. Gods, you wanted it to happen so desperately. But you were painfully shy when it came to the idea of asking him out and little did you know, he was feeling exactly the same way. Frankie wanted nothing more than to finally ask you on a proper date, to spend all those times laughing with you in person. But he just...continually talked himself out of it.

He was just so shy, so nervous and he thought it would be impossible that someone like you would actually go for a guy like him. He was just...fly boy and you were his Sunshine. Frankie had given you the name early on, deciding that it was appropriate because you brought a little bit of sunshine into his life every day. It had almost brought you to tears - not that you'd admit that to anyone - not yet anyway. His nickname was simple - he was a former military pilot and now a part time ‘whenever he got the chance pilot’ - Fly Boy. It was perfect and he adored it as much as you.

And yet neither of you, pining silly fools had been able to make that final move. One day, you both reminded yourself constantly, one day.

And one day turned out to be sooner than either of you expected...

"Mmhmm," you murmured into the phone as you scoured the bookshelves of your local little bookstore. You had a rare afternoon off and to treat yourself to a nice coffee and searching for a new read. You'd fallen out of reading regularly and had made it a point to get back into it, aiming for a book month. Naturally, your friend had called you at that exact time, "of course pizza is always a good choice."

Frankie hummed under his breath as he walked through the aisles looking for the book you had recommended to him. He hadn’t thought much about the woman he saw a few rows over with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. He did note, however, that the tone of her voice was sweet - not that he was trying to listen in on her conversation. 

“Yes it is!” you laughed into the phone, trying to keep it down when you noticed the man in your peripheral vision and aimed to keep from disturbing him, “pizza is good for whenever you don't know what to make. And you know the best - pepperoni, jalapenos, and tomatoes. No contest.”

Despite not trying to listen in to your conversation, as soon as he heard you describe pizza, his perked up and immediately his heart started pounding. A nervous rush of energy flowed through him as he tried to get a better look at you without making it obvious. Holy shit - was this actually it? Was he about to meet his Sunshine?

“I even told Frankie,” you insisted with a small smile as you took a sip of your coffee, “he liked it too. Yes...of course I’m still talking to him...I-I really like him. I hope that one day I can meet him. I keep wanting to ask and then I get so nervous and talk myself out of it. He’s just...lovely.”

This definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, right? The particular type of pizza, Frankie, wanting to meet - this had to be you. And the more he listened, despite his initial efforts, he couldn’t help but zone in on you. And now, hearing your voice unfiltered and unaltered through the phone, he knew it was you. He just stopped in his tracks as he watched you, a silly little smile on his face as he realized that somehow the universe had decided to throw him a bone. 

“Mhmm,” you murmured into the phone, “of course. I’ll talk to you later!”

Ending the call, you shoved your phone into your pocket and reached for one of the books that had piqued your interest. Sliding it out and reading over the back, you quickly got lost in your thoughts until you heard a throat clear behind you. Assuming you were in someone’s way, you shuffled to the side without glancing at who it was. But then you heard it - quiet and shy but clear, “Sunshine?”

At the sound of the nickname you’d been given by only one person throughout your entire life, your heart fluttered wildly in your chest as your body froze. Surely..surely this couldn’t be happening…

Turning around, slowly, painfully slowly, you found yourself staring at a face both brand new and immediately familiar. You’d never seen him before, but instantly it was like you knew him, all of him. In some ways you supposed, you did. 

“F-Frankie?” almost getting choked up, your voice was barely above a whisper as the handsome man in front of you slowly nodded. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as his whole features lit up with excitement. His brown eyes were soft and crinkled in the corners as his grew grin and a one singular dimple appeared. You weren’t really sure what you had pictured when you’d thought about your mysterious friend, but somehow this was right on the mark. You blinked a few times, trying to hold back your tears of sheer excitement, “you’re real after all!”

And then he laughed. A beautiful, glorious sound that caused a surge of warmth to rush through your entire body. He really was just as lovely as you’d dreamed. 

“Did you really think you were talking to a robot this whole time?” he asked as you flushed with warmth but stuck your tongue at him, “I can’t believe it’s really you. After all these months...finally. I’ve been wanting to ask you for so long but I didn’t think…”

“Me too,” you agreed, “me too. Small world, huh?”

“I was just looking for the book you recommended last night,” he admitted as you practically glowed with excitement. Holding up a finger, you turned around and quickly found the book in question and displayed it for him, “I didn’t think I’d find the book and the woman I’ve been talking to for months.”

“How did you know it was me?” you asked as you walked over to him and he offered up a sheepish grin.

“The pizza.”

“The pizza!” you snorted with laughter, “I should have known. Too obvious.”

“I like to think that everything happens for a reason,” he tried to take the book from your hands but you just shook your head, “what?”

“This is going to be from me to you,” you insisted as a tinge of pink welled up in his cheeks, “a souvenir from the day we met!”

“I’ll treasure it forever,” he promised and you could tell he meant it, “what are you doing tonight? Now?”

“I dunno,” you feigned innocence, “I was planning on going home to cook and talk to this guy I’ve been falling for for months, but that seems a little weird now.” 

“Will you let me take you to dinner -  a date? A real date?” he asked as you beamed at him and nodded. How could you ever say no. 

“Only if you take me to that Italian place you told me about!”

“Whatever you want, Sunshine,” he promised as he reached for your hand and gently laced your fingers together. It felt so easy, so effortless, and you didn’t even have to think about - natural. 

“You,” you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing his cheek, “just you, Frankie.”

“Sweet Sunshine.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[belovedgamers]

not today, tomorrow

Ao3 link! (comments appreciated <3)

rating: teen and up no archive warnings apply

more eternal duo content about reincarnation au and post-Banquet feels :D /rp

It has been a week since the Banquet.

Eret cannot sleep.

He has tried. Kind of. Sort of. Maybe. He has, at least, attempted to try.

But it hasn’t worked.

And it’s not like they particularly mind.

It has been a week since the Banquet.

Eret has not stopped moving.

Well, she refuses to stop moving, does not feel like they should. It would be… It would be wrong to stop. Foolish did not give up his life for hers so she could waste it in idleness.

(Her legs hadn’t moved, her hands had been immobile and her very lungs had frozen, when he was taken, you did nothing—

They do not know how to forgive themself for that.)

She can’t just… stop. There’s… There’s no time for pauses, no time for quiet, only time to move forwards. Eret builds, and he digs, and he does his best to keep away from everyone else’s land of sight.

(your fault your fault your fault what did you do for them but make a toast and place your hopes in their clawed hands what did you do but kneel before your execution what did you do but spill ichor over obsidian with your lies—)

She does not want to stay idle anymore. And… and she doesn’t really know what she would do with rest, anyway. Eret has much to do, builds to finish, people to look after. Legislation does not happen overnight and without supervision. They have already failed enough.

(Now, isn’t this so much better?)

(... the darkness… within you...)

It’s been a week since the Banquet.

Eret knows. They could tell you the exact amount of minutes that has passed.

Even if the hours pass them by as they fill out paperwork, as they pile stone together and mine for andesite, Eret knows how much time has passed them by, knows the information as well as they know the back of their hand.

There is a golden watch around her wrist.

For Eret, it says, the letters carefully carved in its lug. She has never seen Foolish’ writing, but there is a certainty in his heart, born from the proud look in his emerald eyes the night of—

Born from the proud look in his emerald eyes that night. This is his handwriting, measured and neat so it will fit their name. She has not seen him write, but she has seen him type in the communicator, and knows that his typing is a mess. The idea that impatient, active Foolish sat still, the thought that he carefully, delicately carved these letters, one stroke at a time, on a surface so tiny, not for the grand memory of a build to impress others but for this detail that nobody else would see, it… it…

(“Anything for you, old pal.”)

It’s too much to consider. They do not dwell on it.

He’d carved a small figure in the crown of it, too, a poppy.

It’s her favorite flower. She does not know how the god knew.

(he looked at them with bright, proud eyes and extended a hand, come look, he said, he pleaded, a field of red stretched before their eyes, old pal, he was trying to not be weak, to let himself be vulnerable, there was a look in his eyes, look, i have made you a gard—

Shhhh.)

She does not know how he knew. He does not know, and it’s slowly making him desolate.

Sometimes, he finds himself angry at the god who so graciously gave her this gift. It was much easier to go on about her life when she didn’t know a part of themself was missing.

(and do you know he spoke the truth? perhaps he was simply a liar—)

But that sounds ungrateful, and it sounds wretched. Those thoughts make her out to be someone she does not wish to be. He would like to be worthy of Foolish’s sacrifice. He would like…

He is so tired. So very tired.

He must keep moving.

It has been a week since the Banquet.

She has not slept a single day of it, yet he is not tired.

Physically so, at least. There is a buzz thrumming on his veins, a shimmering sensation over her skin. She has not slept and yet she is not exhausted. He goes without eating but is not starving. He hadn’t felt thirsty until he tasted water. She spent hours mining for andesite, armorless, and not a single mob strayed close.

(Tell them their importance to the Universe.)

It has been a week since the Banquet.

She looks down at their hands. Not a single scratch. Not even a bruise. Even though her hands were bare, even though he hasn’t stopped for hours, in days, there is not a single ache in their body. There is nothing that hurts. Not even their back, usually tired after cartography work, after building and finding more resources, tired from the weight of their guilt, does not hurt.

She finds herself in front of a mirror.

The person who stares back does not look like a monarch. The person who stares back looks flawless, unweighted, magical. Beautiful.

He has not changed out of the dress since... that night, and yet there is not a single tear on it besides the ones from the Eggpire’s trap, not a stain or a loose thread. Their crown is gone—

all their gold is, only the watch remains, she cannot stand the look for it but she could stand much less to lose it

— and so is the corset, the shoulder pads, but the red gown still flows and falls, precious in its detailing. There are no bags under their eyes, no grime in his hair. There is nothing wrong with them.

(You look lovely, the captain had said, present tense, when they found each other by the spider spawner, when she showed Eret her graveyard.

Eret builds and Puffy does too. Different families of the same typeface. Different translations of the same text.)

Her hands shake, she steps closer. She is barefoot. How has she not stepped over a rock? How is he not hurt? Why are their heels not sore?

He steps closer.

There is a fine line of gold around her throat, settled into skin.

(You look lovely.)

(Does it know we love it? That the Universe is kind?)

Totems do not heal an injury from before the mortal blow.

But with Eret, there was no mortal blow at all. They know magic, and that night they felt it sink into their body. It had nothing to heal, nowhere to go. It could not reach Foolish, so it curled around her heart.

And the Universe, even then, watched.

The gods are the Universe’s favorite children. One of them died for Eret. It will not let her get hurt. It will not let his sacrifice go to waste.

No matter how much they deserve the pain for taking Foolish away from the living.

(You are not alone.)

Eret collapses into the mirror, catches herself with one hand. Suddenly, they feel like crying again.

You idiot, she wants to tell him, wants to scream it to his face. He wants to tell Foolish off for this. They want to make sure he knows to never do it again, that his life is not a trading card, that she does not want it, that she would rather die herself than see his body dissipate into divine light again and be haunted by his spirit, by his love, by his fear.

But she can’t.

He is back. She knows he is. Sam had told her, when they discussed the Banquet as Puffy collected some dirt, the words he sacrificed himself for me had spilled from her mouth before he could stop them.

Sam had looked at them with a mixture of pity and guilt.

(Those had been his friends once, had they not? Bad and Ant and Skeppy. The Badlands, a land of chaos, a land of love. Always together. Bad and Ant had been Sam’s choice of prison guards.)

(And Ponk had been his choice of beloved.)

(And Hannah had been his chosen ally.)

Sam had said he was with Ranboo and I last night and had closed his mouth around something else he’d wanted to say.

But Eret must have looked pitiful enough, because he’d continued after a pause.

He was pretending nothing was wrong.

Eret’s heart had broken.

She cannot see Foolish, because inevitably she would bring up his sacrifice, and whatever fragile peace Foolish had built around himself, she’d destroy.

He doesn’t want to hurt him anymore.

(All you would do would be to hurt him, guilty, harmful, poisoned, you are but a wicked seed of pain.)

She cannot see Foolish.

So she ignores her communicator when it rings.

(—always late, old pal, you should keep your communicator on you at all times, i will send you signs across the sky, here’s a messenger, did you seriously just leave me waiting—

No.)

It keeps beeping as she retrieves her sickle, as she finds the mirror again.

It keeps beeping as she throws the sickle towards its surface, as the mirror shatters at her feet.

Not a single piece of glass sinks into her skin.

(All you do is destroy. You were not meant for peace.)

(You are growing restless.)

It keeps beeping. She keeps ignoring it.

Eventually, it stops.

Hours pass before she retrieves it.

Old pal.

Hello.

We should talk.

Tomorrow after sunrise.

If you can.

See you soon.

There is not a single mistake in these messages. It strikes her more than it probably should.

(You are not alone.)

Her hands are shaking again. Maybe they never stopped shaking at all.

It has been a week since the Banquet.

Foolish sacrificed himself for them.

(“How do you always keep waiting?”

“I have infinity laid before me.”)

(When he spoke of their past, he looked so sad when you did not recall, guarded and wary and hurt.

What have you done but hurt him?)

We should talk.  

The words echo in their head. They can hear it in Foolish’s voice even if they have never heard him speak them.

Perhaps he should go. The time Foolish proposed is early in the morning but it’s not like Eret has been sleeping. They haven’t even changed, even though it’s been nearly two weeks and counting. They should… They should go. If Foolish wants to see them, maybe they could talk, and he did promise to figure out their memo—

(“Its okay, Eret.”

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.)

Perhaps he should go. But the time Foolish proposed is early in the morning and it’s not like Eret has been sleeping. They haven’t even changed, even though it’s been nearly two weeks and counting. They should… they should rest.

“Maybe next week,” she whispers to no one, to the Universe. “Maybe we can meet next week instead.”

If Foolish wants to see them, maybe they could reschedule.

It has been a week since the Banquet.

It can't hurt to wait a little longer.

.

.

.

.

.

“Just… just let me check something,” Foolish tells the creatures at his feet. “Just let me… Let me see… Just a second…”

But no matter how many times he looks at it, his communicator stays empty. There is no message, no call, there is no rushed footsteps from his portal, no apologetic grin.

“Just let me check…”

.

.

.

.

.

(Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts—)

.

.

.

“Hey… Hey… Hey, forehead, hey—

can you hear me— Hey, it’s—"

.

.

.

(—almost at the familiar door—)

.

.

.

"— it's me— Hey—  

Eret?”

.

.

.

(I wish to tell them that they are—)

.

.

.

(Wake up.)

.

.

.

.

.

There is a cat by the steps of Eret's castle. It looks a little like a toasted marshmallow.

Eret finds it some food. He sits in the steps while the cat eats from a bowl that may have been too precious to use for a pet's food once.

"Do you have an owner, kitty?" They ask, scratching between the cat's ears. It looks too well-kept to be a simple stray, but there is no name tag around its neck. Then again, name tags are rare to find, that might not mean anything.

The cat simply blinks at her and bumps its forehead against her hand.

Maybe she should give him a name.

[e-m-christina]

Heathens Pt2 (Ivar X Warrior Reader)

The ship journey had lasted over three days. The afternoon sun burned your skin as it beat down upon the sea, causing the water to glimmer like a million little mirrors catching the sunlight. But you did not notice the scenery, you were determined not to give into hopelessness. Nor did your brother. 

   “Lord, unto thee do I lift up my soul. Let me not be ashamed, let not mine enemies triumph over me.” You prayed aloud, staring down at the shackles that bound your bloodied wrists. 

   “So, is this an interruption of your life’s journey...Or is it a part of it?” You looked up at Ivar. He was leaning against a thick rope, his eyes preying on you like a hawk. You stayed silent. You would not entertain these devils with argument. To your dismay, Ivar simply smirked, before looking off into the distance. Over the course of the journey, many viking men taunted you about your God, the true God, but it did not sway you. In fact it made you angry, and when you got angry, you would become even more determined not to give into hopelessness. 

   “Heahmund, are you alright?” You asked, noticing the state of your brother. He dark hair was matted, and dried blood covered his usually pale face. 

   “I do not think either one of us are alright, my dear sister.” Heahmund said, coughing up drops of blood. 

   “We are here!” You looked up to see a heathen pointing toward a mass of land only a few miles away. 

   Two men gripped your shoulders, digging their fingers harshly into your flesh as they dragged you and your brother through a set of iron doors. You were dragged into a great wooden hall. The hall was large, lit only by a two windows that ran across the top of the walls, and hanging in the centre of the ceiling was a humongous whale skeleton. 

   “On their knees.” You heard Ivar command to his men. You were thrown to the ground as the air got knocked out of your already battered lungs. You groaned as you pulled yourself up into a kneeling position. Above you, a Norseman sat upon a throne. On his braided hair sat a crown that sent shadows over his heavily tattooed face. By his side sat a beautiful woman wearing a crimson dress.

   “What is the point of them?” The man on the throne leaned forward, inspecting you and your brother. You growled and spat in his face, making him recoil and wipe his cheek. “Why did you not just kill them?” The man said, glaring at you.

   “Because they are both great warriors, Harald.” Ivar said, gesturing to you and your brother. “I have seen how they with my own eyes. I admire great warriors.” Ivar continued, limping around the side of Heahmund, before stopping behind you, but your gaze was still fixed on the man before you, the man that was now named Harald. You listened closely to their conversation, trying to gain information, afterall, they did not expect you to be able to speak or understand Norse.

   “Even the girl? I did not know Christian women fought in battles.” Harald said with a frown. You could hear Ivar chuckle behind you. 

   “Nor me Harald, nor me. But I hope that they will both fight for us.” Ivar said, patting you on the shoulder. You lurched forward to get away from his touch. 

   “The women do not fight. I am the exception.” You said at last, surprising them with your Norse language. 

   “She speaks our language. Did you know this Ivar?” Harald asked, and for the first time, your eyes left his face, and flicked to Ivar. 

   “No, I did not.” Ivar said, raising his eyebrows. 

   “How did you come by learning our language, Y/N? Does Heahmund speak it as well?” Ivar asked, shoving you with his crutch. You shot a glare at him before looking to your brother. Heahmund was staring at Ivar, after hearing his name mentioned. 

   “King Ecbert taught me, before you Heathens slaughtered him like a beast. And No, my brother does not know your language.” You said, venom dripping from every word.

   “The lord rules me. I shall want nothing.” You turned to look at Heahmund. He had begun to pray, glaring Harald in the eyes. You hissed as Ivar yanked your brothers hair sharply. 

   “No, no, no. Let him speak.” Harald asked, waving at Ivar to stop pulling Heahmunds hair. A smirk begun to form on your lips as a look of dismay flashed across Ivars face.

   “I fear no evil, for you are with me Lord, your rod and your staff have comforted me.” You joined in on the prayer with your brother, looking directly into the eyes of Harald. 

   “What are they saying?” He asked looking to Ivar. 

   “They are praying to their God.” Ivar said. A flash of anger flickered across Haralds face as he stood up. 

   “A fat load of good that will do them!” Harald chuckled, regaining himself as Ivar simply smirked, hitting Heahmund across the head. You glanced at your brother, a small smile dancing on your lips. These Heathens were very easily to aggravate. That would come in handy. 

   “You prepare a table before me, in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” You say over and over, as the two men that brought you in, dragged you by your arms toward the door.

    In the distance the faint sound of water dripping from an old dingy drain pipe splashed into a puddle on the floor. In the gloom all you could make out was the four stone walls that locked you in. In the water dripping silence you sat, back against the cold stone walls. You and Heahmund at been separated, thrown into separate rooms a few hours ago. You rubbed your painful wrists with your now freed hands, before turning to face Ivar, who was sat on a stool opposite you. 

   “There is going to be a war. A war that will make me king of Kattegat, my father’s kingdom. A war against the usurper, Lagertha, who killed my mother in order to be queen. And of course, a war between brother.” You listened to Ivar, peering at him in the darkness. You rolled your eyes. What did you care of his wars and family troubles? 

   “What of it?” You said, flicking some dirt off your trouser leg. You watched him carefully as he leaned forward, clasping his hands together.    

   “Y/n, you have a choice. Fight alongside me, or I kill you.” He said. You snorted, sitting upright. Though you pretended to be disgusted, your curiosity was peaked by his offer.

   “What are your wars to me?” You asked, looking him in the eye.

   “Your way of staying alive.” Ivar quipped, leaning back in his seat with a smirk on his face.

   “I am not afraid to die for my faith.” You pulled yourself off the muddy ground and stood by the small window, peeking through the bars that secured it. 

   “I am not asking you to do that. I am not asking you to renounce your faith, or to fight against Christians.” You turned away from the window, fully facing him now. “All I am asking is for you to kill more of those who you call ‘Heathens’.” Ivar said, watching you as you took a few steps toward him.  You crouched down on the ground below his stool with a raised eyebrow. 

   “Why do you offer me this choice?” You asked, slightly softer. You had begun to realize that Ivar could have killed you at any point, but he did not. He obviously needed you for something. You had thought God must have planned for this to happen. 

   “Because I am jealous of you.” He said at last. You frowned, turning your head to the side and beckoned for him to continue. “I would like to be like you, strong, whole...” Ivar began to trail off, looking at his lap. You felt a small pang of sympathy in your heart when his voice broke at the end. If you were entirely honest, you had forgotten that his legs did not work. You were going to say something, when he continued to speak. 

    “To be a great warrior like you. That is why I saved you, brought you with me. That is why I want you to fight alongside me.”

   Your feet stumbled as your were dragged forward with a chain around your neck. The iron rubbed your throat, causing the skin to tear and bleed. A crowd of mucky Pagans crowded you, following your every step as Hvitserk clutched  your now re-chained arms as rain pelted you, turning the ground into sludgy mud. 

   “Kill her!” The crowd roared as you were thrown to the ground. You groaned in pain, feeling a trickle of blood drip down your cheek. 

   “I told you to take her her to me, not batter her.” You looked up to see Ivar standing up, out of his chair, glaring at Hvitserk. 

   “Kill her!” The crowd cheered again as Hvitserk bent down, unlocking the chains from your wrists and neck. Ivar raised a hand, shushing the crowd instantly. You staggered up, spitting a mouthful of blood at the crowd, causing a small smirk to flitter across Ivars face. 

   “Possibly. We may kill her, if she does not agree, I will kill her.” Ivar said, as the crowd went mad again. You clenched your jaw, watching as Ivar stepped towards you. You hissed in pain as he ran his thumb across you cut cheek, wiping the blood away before continuing his speech.

   “She will live if she and her brother both agree to fight  alongside me. Which I hope she will do.” Ivar said the last part in a lower voice, making eye contact with you. 

   “Well, will she?” A man in the crowd yelled, causing you turn around and glare at him. You turned back to Ivar, who was staring at you intensely.

   “Well Y/N? Will you fight with me?”

--

Thanks for reading! Part 3 coming soon! 

REQUESTS OPEN!

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[ootori-sibs]

The Ootori princess

Chapter 7: That dream

Kyoya was very pleased that his friends liked his new room, and he had been happy to show them around the rest of the garden. After they'd seen everything Kyoya was aware of, they sat in the garden, drinking lemonade and eating sugar cookies. It was different from how they usually hung out, there wasn't any purpose to this, they had no goal in mind. They were relaxed… it was new to Kyoya to be so calm and still with the hosts, with his friends.

It was Kyoya's first time in the back garden, and it was very pretty; there were a couple of big flower patches, some lovely looking fruit trees, and a little vegetable patch tucked away in the corner. The thing that surprised Kyoya, however, was the chickens, Yuuichi hadn't told him there were chickens. This was amazing, he had a hen on his lap at that moment, he wasn't petting it but he wished to know its name. The other hosts definitely enjoyed the presence of the chickens as well, playing with them happily. Kyoya liked the garden, it was very nice. There was a lot of sun- the mansion was angled in such a way to catch the sun.

It wasn't Kyoya's fault, he closed his eyes for just a second. He hadn't expected to find himself in a flowerfield, with chickens running about among the undergrowth. It was a lovely scene, with the sun shining brightly down on him, not burning but simply warming him. Kyoya felt so incredibly free; the flowers and grass brushing against his bare skin felt great, he almost wanted to twirl- and there was no one around to see him, so he did.

He rushed around amongst the flowers, the chickens quick on his heels. It felt amazing, everything felt so amazing. It was almost like the welling in his chest when someone told him they were proud of him, but so much better. There wasn't even any lense flare in his glasses for once- which was an incredibly rare occurrence for Kyoya. He simply ran and ran and ran- never seeming to get tired for some unknown reason.

Until he did see a lense flare.

It didn't come from his glasses, no, it came from something in the distance. So Kyoya ran towards it naturally, the chickens began to make louder and louder squawks, clearly just as excited as Kyoya- although for what he could not say.

He finally reached the object that had been calling to him, it was a large, floor length mirror, somehow suspended in midair. It was gold and extremely intricate- though that wasn't what made Kyoya stop in her tracks.

She was wearing a sundress, a lovely white one with a gold belt of a soft and shiny fabric, her hair was so long it reached her shoulders, held out of her eyes with an alice band. The dress was short and flowing, rippling in a breeze that was evidently there now. The girls nails were painted white, they matched her dress nicely, as well as the little white dolly shoes. There was something about the girls face; her lips were a light violet colour and her eyelashes so pleasantly done, her eyebrows were smaller and perfectly neat, she was positively glowing.

There was something in her eyes too, something that Kyoya never had- Kyoya couldn't tell you what it was, in her eyes, but the girl seemed to know- Kyoya wanted to ask her. She was so radiant, so beautiful. She was the kind of girl everyone would fall in love with, she was the kind of girl people would want to be around, she was everything Kyoya failed to be.

...and he loved her.

Kyoya must have fallen asleep, because when he woke up, the sun was in a different position and the hosts were all happily talking to Yuuichi. Wow, he must have been asleep for a long time if Yuuichi was home already. Yuuichi seemed to notice Kyoya was awake and smiled, "did you just leave your poor friends to entertain themselves while you took a nap? Honestly Kyoya, I can't leave you alone for five minutes can I?" He was clearly joking, hands on his hips and he was smiling, but Kyoya felt a jolt of panic hit him as he realised he had done just that.

He sat up straight, scaring away the poor hen that had been resting on his lap, adjusting his glasses, he hung his head in shame, "ah, my apologies. In my defense, someone should have woken me."

"Senpai are you mad?" Hikaru blurted out, looking at him in kind of annoyed shock, "have you seen what you're like when you've just woken up?? We'd rather not die thank you very much."

Kyoya supposed he had to concede that Hikaru had a point, he wasn't the best person when he just woke up. Yuuichi went back inside- presumably to make dinner, whilst everyone else resumed whatever they had been up to. Kyoya didn't get any time to process anything that was happening when Tamaki sat opposite him at the table, smiling, "so what was your dream about?"

Kyoya's dream? Well- oh… what was that about?? Kyoya barely remembered anything from his dream, only… that girl. Kyoya had a sinking feeling he knew what that dream had been about. "I, uh, well I don't really remember," he lied to Tamaki, hoping the king would drop it.

“Aw, shame,” he smiled, taking a sip of lemonade through the straw, “dreams are very important, my mother used to say that they could show a window into the soul!” He beamed, unaware of how his words made Kyoya’s skin crawl… surely it’s just more of Tamaki’s nonsense, the dream was senseless imagery- nothing to dwell on… right?

He just nodded, “a real shame.” He and the hosts headed inside, finding their way to the living room. Yuuichi was letting them play his video games, so they all positioned themselves around the sofa as Tamaki and the twins grabbed the only three controllers. They were just playing some dumb racing game, Kyoya wasn’t really paying attention but it was fun to see the boys get so competitive. He just leant back and relaxed with his drink, picking the feathers from his trousers as he was watching them play.

But he couldn’t relax, he couldn’t stop thinking about his dream. He could only remember one thing; his reflection, that damned girl. Tamaki had said dreams were important but Kyoya didn’t really want it to be. He’d had the nagging feeling that something was wrong for a while now, he realised, it had only been amplified by Haruhi coming out. Kyoya remembered all the times he had worn a dress for a club theme, all of two times; the first had been when they dressed in drag for Tamaki’s dumb scheme to keep Haruhi, then the second time was when he dressed as the black queen for the wonderland theme- he remembered Tamaki helping him with the corset, he remembered the feeling of the skirt before the frame was put in- it was wonderful. Kyoya hated to think about how he’d looked in the mirror, with his hair extensions and his wonderful makeup, he had adored the way he’d looked, it had made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He had tried on the dress yesterday- the green one. It had made him feel the same way; that warm and almost glowing feeling- it had terrified him to his core.

He was half tempted to ask Haruhi to explain the gender thing again, but he knew that it wouldn’t help- it would just panic him further. Kyoya knew what the issue was, he’d known it for a while he thought- every time he wore something even remotely feminine, the way how heart swelled and he felt a strange sense of belonging; like everything about him was screaming out that yes, this was him, this was who he was supposed to be. Kyoya was terrified of what he wanted to be.

After a while, Kyoya got to relax a little, as Maddie had come to inform the hosts that dinner was ready. So they made their way to the dining room, where Yuuichi had made a large hotpot containing all the best foods. The hosts were very excited by this, sitting down and happily chattering amongst themselves, Yuuichi joined the talking, happily telling them how his work had been doing. Kyoya was quiet as his friends and his brother talked, he just quietly ate his food. The lovely sound of his friends enjoying themselves did serve to make Kyoya feel a lot better, so he shook the thoughts from his mind and let himself enjoy the time he got to spend with his friends.

The food was great, Kyoya always found food a good distraction from troublesome thoughts. He glanced up from his food to see Yuuichi and Tamaki getting along, oh that was good, Kyoya did feel glad that his big brother enjoyed the company of his crush- always a good sign. Tamaki was telling Yuuichi about some of the themes the club had done, Kyoya was utterly surprised by how approving Yuuichi was of most themes- only showing concern when Tamaki mentions the costumes that had the hosts shirtless, making sure they were all happy with it. Kyoya did think about that… he wasn’t sure if he liked being shirtless, he especially didn’t enjoy getting oggled over by the girls. He definitely preferred the themes that allowed him to wear shirts and- oh no, Tamaki had brought up the wonderland theme, and by extension; the dress Kyoya had worn.

Yuuichi had paused when Tamaki mentioned the dress, and the hair extensions, and the makeup. He’d looked at Kyoya with a strange look in his eyes, one that made Kyoya very anxious before turning back to smile at Tamaki, chuckling, “ah, I’m sure that was fun…” the way Yuuichi trailed off made Kyoya highly uncomfortable, he glanced away as the conversation continued. Kyoya felt like there was someone terribly wrong with him, and he couldn't help but feel as if Yuuichi knew.

After dinner, they had some lovely sponge cake, one that Yuuichi had made just that morning. It was nice, sitting there as his friends talked, it almost made him forget the horrible nagging feeling in his gut. Almost. Nevertheless, the company of his friends was comforting, letting Kyoya let his guard down even further. After that, Yuuichi bid them farewell, as he had work to do and retired to his office. The hosts made their way up back to Kyoya's room, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Kyoya breathed a sigh, shaking any dregs of worry from his mind, the hosts made everything better.

As they walked, Kyoya found himself beside Tamaki, the king smiling happily at him when he looked over. "This is a really nice place Kyoya! Are you having fun here?" Kyoya just nodded in response, looking around the corridor, Tamaki paused at his response, "well you seemed to have something on your mind recently, what's up, mon ami?"

Kyoya paused, not realising his crisis was so plain to see. He definitely didn't want to share his fears, he couldn't imagine how Tamaki might laugh- he hadn't laughed at Haruhi, but that's different… besides, it wasn't like Kyoya was experiencing the same thing he was, it was just a stupid thought. He sighed, shaking his head, "it's nothing Tamaki, don't worry."

"Are you sure..?"

He glanced away, damn Tamaki for being so caring, "stop it Tamaki, I'm fine, everything's fine." Tamaki clearly didn't believe him, but sighed, nodding slowly and walking in silence.

They sat around the room, both Tamaki and Kyoya sat on the bed, Tamaki was hugging the curtains as the twins talked about some sort of nonsense. They'd started on school gossip he thought, oh goodie, Kyoya was excellent at this. He pulled out the drive of information on his phone, joining the conversation quite happily. Finding some very interesting rumours about their clients as he did so.

It was so nice, just to let his guard down around his dear friends. Kyoya knew that a mere two years ago and he wouldn't dare even smile so genuinely, now he was open enough to chuckle. He loved them so dearly, he'd trust them with anything… wouldn't he? The doubt hit him like a little tap on his shoulder, creeping up into his spine as he shivered. No one noticed so he breathed a sigh of relief, laying back on the bed.

Madeline brought them some hot chocolate later on in the evening, it had cream and marshmallows, though Kyoya's had dark chocolate chunks, so he was happy. It was really good hot chocolate too, it instilled Kyoya with a sense of something unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Honey spoke up, smiling, "this is really good! Almost as good as how my maids make it!"

"You guys don't even make your own hot chocolate?" Haruhi was once again surprised by rich people things, bless his soul.

"Of course not, that's what maids are for," was Hikaru's rebuttal, rolling his eyes at the poor commoner.

Haruhi had mumbled something about rich people being morons but Kyoya didn't pay much mind to it, just staring up at the canopy over his bed, there were little silver stars embroidered on it, just over the canopy and not the curtains. He thought it looked really good, Kyoya wasn't one for novel things like that, he hated feeling like a wasteful child, but this was a really nice touch and Kyoya actually found it had helped him sleep the last two nights.

"They're very pretty," Tamaki seemed to read his mind, laying next to him. Kyoya felt his face heat up slightly as he glanced over at Tamaki; the boy was beautiful, he had perfect bone structure, a symmetrical face, large, bright eyes, he definitely used lipgloss- no one's lips are that soft and shiny naturally. Kyoya wondered if he should start wearing lipgloss, but that thought could wait. "Hm?"

"The stars," Tamaki clarified, he must think Kyoya hadn't understood, "they're very nice, who did them?"

"I'm not sure, one of the maids I assume?"

He nodded, "that makes sense, do you like them?"

"I do."

"Good," Tamaki smiled, he had such a lovely smile, "they remind me of you, in a way?"

Huh, that didn't make any sense, "how?"

Tamaki sighed lightly, glancing at Kyoya before returning his gaze to the stars, Kyoya did the same, "well they're not exactly golden, and a lot of people would prefer gold- those people are shallow. Silver is just as good as gold and is honestly a lot more versatile. Stars are underrated too, but in a different way; they can only be seen as little specks, pretty little fairy lights of the sky, but if you were to look closer you'd see how bright and unique and powerful they are. Stars aren't actually shaped like that either, those shapes are man made and man formed, I don't understand why they came up with that shape and I don't pretend to understand it, but I still think it's wonderful in every way." Tamaki was staring at him again, Kyoya noticed, there was something in the boy's eyes that resembled stars themselves- or at least what stars were seen to be. "I just think they're really cool, and they fit your room."

Kyoya had listened to the entire thing, taken aback by this, it sounded almost like something he would say to charm a guest, but this was different, something about this felt separate, more intimate- and Kyoya couldn't help but blush. He let out a breath, not sure what to say, or if he should even speak.

"What are you two talking about back there?" A voice, Kaoru's voice, called back from the sofa. Both boys sat up, Kyoya taking a few breaths to compose himself as Tamaki rolled his eyes.

"We were talking about how nice the bed is, why?"

The twins shared a knowing look, smiling mischievously, Kyoya knew they thought they knew something. He hoped they were right. As the others were distracted by Haruhi telling them stories about commoner things, Kyoya felt himself sink into the circle, the sense of safety and comradery comforting him. The crisis could be ignored for now, as long as he had his friends.

[themousefromfantasyland]

The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Knights

Or, russian Snow White and the seven Bogatyrs, legendary slavic warriors, similar to the knight-errant in Western tradition

This is a 1833 poem by russian poet Aleksandr Pushkin, inspired by the childhood tales told by his nurse. It's basically russian Snow White, been astonishly closer to the Disney film than the original Brothers Grimm's fairy tale

With his suite the Tsar departed. The Tsarina tender-hearted at the window sat alone, wishing he would hurry home.

All day every day she waited, gazing till her dedicated eyes grew weak from overstrain, gazing at the empty plain. Not a sign of her beloved!

Nothing but the snowflakes hurried, heaping drifts upon the lea. Earth was white as white could be. Nine long months she sat and waited, kept her vigil unabated.

Then from God on Christmas Eve, she a daughter did receive. Next day early in the morning, love and loyalty rewarding. Home again from travel far, came at last the father-Tsar.

One fond glance at him she darted, gasped for joy with thin lips parted. Then fell back upon her bed and by prayer-time was dead.

Long the Tsar sat lonely, brooding. But he, too, was only human.

Tears for one sad year he shed... And another woman wed.

She (if one be strictly truthful) was a born Tsarina. Youthful, slim, tall, fair to look upon. Clever, witty, and so on.

But she was in equal measure stubborn, haughty, wilful, jealous. In her dowry rich and vast was a little looking-glass.

It had this unique distinction: It could speak with perfect diction. Only with this glass would she in a pleasant humour be.

Many times a day she'd greet it and coquettishly entreat it:

"Tell me, pretty looking-glass, nothing but the truth, I ask: Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

And the looking-glass replied:

"You, it cannot be denied. You in all the world are fairest and your beauty is the rarest."

The Tsarina laughed with glee, shrugged her shoulders merrily, puffed her cheeks and bat her eyelids, flicked her fingers coyly, slyly, pranced around with hand on hips, arrogance upon her lips.

All this time the Tsar's own daughter quietly, as Nature taught her, grew and grew, and came quite soon like a flower into bloom: Raven-browed, of fair complexion, breathing kindness and affection.

And the choice of fiance lighted on Prince Yelisei. Suit was made. The Tsar consented and her dowry was indented:

Seven towns with wealthy store. Mansion-houses, sevenscore. On the night before the wedding, for a bridal party dressing, the Tsarina, time to pass, chatted with her looking-glass:

"Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

Then what did the glass reply?

"You are fair, I can't deny. But the Princess is the fairest. And her beauty is the rarest."

Up the proud Tsarina jumped. On the table how she thumped, angrily the mirror slapping, slipper heel in fury tapping!

"O you loathsome looking-glass, telling lies as bold as brass! By what right is she my rival?Such young folly I shall bridle. So she's grown up? Me to spite! Little wonder she's so white: With her bulging mother gazing. At that snow?What's so amazing! Now look here, explain to me. How can she the fairer be? Scour this realm of ours and seek well, nowhere shall you find my equal. Is not that the truth?" she cried.

Still the looking-glass replied:

"But the Princess is the fairest and her beauty is the rarest."

The Tsarina burst with spite, hurled the mirror out of sight, underneath the nearest cupboard, and when breath she had recovered, summoned Smudge, her chamber maid and to her instructions gave:

"Take the Princess to the forest. Bind her hand and foot and forehead to a tree! When wolves arrive let them eat the girl alive!"

Woman's wrath would daunt the devil! Protest was no use whatever.

Soon the Princess left with Smudge for the woods. So far they trudged that the Princess guessed the reason. Scared to death by such foul treason, loud she pleaded:

"Spare my life! Innocent of guilt am I! Do not kill me, I beseech you! And when I become Tsarina I shall give you rich reward."

Smudge, who really loved her ward, being loth to kill or bind her, let her go, remarking kindly:

"God be with you! Do not moan!"

And, this said, went back alone.

"Well?" demanded the Tsarina. "Where's that pretty little creature?"

"In the forest on her own," Smudge replied. "And there she'll stay. To a tree I firmly lashed her. When a hungry beast attacks her, she'll have little time to cry, and the quicker she shall die!"

Rumour spread and caused a panic: "What, the Tsar's own daughter vanished!"

Mournful was the Tsar that day, but the young Prince Yelisei offered God a fervent prayer and departed then and there, to seek out and homeward guide, his sweet-tempered, youthful bride.

Meanwhile his young bride kept walking through the forest until morning, vague as to her whereabouts.

Suddenly she spied a house. Out a dog ran growling, yapping, then sat down, his tail tap-tapping. At the gate there was no guard. All was quiet in the yard.

Close at heel the good dog bounded as the Princess slowly mounted stairs to gain the living floor, turned the ring upon the door.

Silently the door swung open and before her eyes unfolded a bright chamber: all around benches strewn with rugs she found, board of oak beneath the ikon and a stove with tiles to lie on.

To the Princess it was clear, kindly folk were dwelling here, who would not deny her shelter.

No one was at home, however. So she set to, cleaned the pans, made the whole house spick and span, lit a candle in the corner, fed the fire to be warmer, climbed onto the platform bed, there to lay her sleepy head.

Dinner time. The yard resounded, horses stamped and men dismounted. Thick-moustached and ruddy-skinned, seven lusty Knights walked in.

Said the Eldest: "How amazing! All so neat! The fire blazing! Somebody's been cleaning here, and is waiting somewhere near. Who is there? Come out of hiding! Be a friend in peace abiding! If you're someone old and hoar, be our uncle evermore! If you're young and love a scuffle.We'll embrace you as a brother. If a venerable dame, then shall 'mother' be your name. If a maiden fair, we'll call you our dear sister and adore you."

So the Princess rose, came down to the Seven Knights and bowed. Her good wishes emphasising, blushing and apologising that to their delightful home uninvited she had come.

Straight they saw her speech bore witness to the presence of a Princess.

So they cleared a corner seat, offered her a pie with meat, filled a glass with wine and served it on a tray, as she deserved it.

But the glass of heady wine she politely did decline, and the pie she broke with caution, savouring a tiny portion.

Pleading she was very tired, soon she gracefully retired and the Seven Knights conveyed her to the best and brightest chamber and, away as they did creep, she was falling fast asleep.

Days flew by? The Princess living all the time without misgiving, in the forest, never bored, with the Seven Knights abroad.

Darkness would the earth still cover when at dawn the seven brothers would ride out to try their luck with a long-bow, shooting duck.

She, as lady of the house, rose much later, moved about dusting, polishing and cooking, never once the Knights rebuking. They, too, never chided her. Days flew by like gossamer.

And in time they grew to love her. Thereupon all seven brothers, shortly after dawn one day, to her chamber made their way, and the Eldest Knight addressed her:

"As you know, you are our sister. But all seven of us here are in love with you, my dear, and we all desire your favours. But that must not be. God save us! Find some way to give us peace! Be a wife to one at least, to the rest remain a sister! But you shake your head. Is this to say our offer you refuse? Nothing from our stock you'll choose?"

"O my brave and bonny brothers, virtuous beyond all others!"

In reply the Princess'said, "God in heaven strike me dead if my answer be not honest: I've no choice. My hand is promised! You're all equal in my eyes, all so valiant and wise, and I love you all, dear brothers! But my heart is to another pledged for evermore. One day I shall wed Prince Yelisei!"

Hushed, the brothers kept their station, scratched their foreheads in frustration.

"As you wish! So now we know," said the Eldest with a bow.

"Pray, forgive us, and I promise you'll hear nothing further from us!"

"I'm not angry," she replied. "By my pledge I must abide."

Bowing low, the seven suitors left her room with passions muted. So in harmony again did they live and friendship reign.

The Tsarina was still livid, every time she saw in vivid memory the Princess fair.

Long the mirror, lying there, was the object of her hatred;

But at last her wrath abated. So one day it came to pass, that she took the looking-glass, up again and sat before it, smiled and, as before, implored it:

"Greetings, pretty looking-glass! Tell me all the truth, I ask: Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

Said the mirror in reply:

"You are fair, I can't deny. But where Seven Knights go riding, in a green oak-grove residing, humbly lives a person who is more beautiful than you."

The Tsarina's wrath descended on her maid: "What folly tempted you to lie? You disobeyed!"

Smudge a full confession made...

Uttering a threat of torture, the Tsarina grimly swore to send the Princess to her death, or not draw another breath.

One day by her window waiting for her brothers homeward hasting, sat the young Princess and span.

Suddenly the dog began barking. Through the courtyard scurried a poor beggar-woman, worried by the dog she kept at bay with her stick.

"Don't go away! Stay there, stay!" the Princess shouted, from the window leaning outward.

"Let me call the dog to heel, and I'll offer you a meal."

And the beggar-woman answered: "Pretty child, you take my fancy! For that dog of yours, you see, could well be the death of me. See him snarling, bristling yonder! Come here, child!"

The Princess wanted to go out, and took a loaf. But the dog its body wove round her feet, refused to let her step towards the woman-beggar.

When the woman, too, drew near, wilder than an angry bear, it ttacked her. How perplexing!

"Had a bad night's sleep, I reckon!" Said the Princess. "Catch it! There!"

And the bread flew through the air. The poor beggar-woman caught it.

"I most humbly thank you, daughter, God be merciful!" said she. "In return take this from me!"

The bright apple she was holding, newly picked, fresh, ripe and golden, straight towards the Princess flew...

How the dog leapt in pursuit! But the Princess neatly trapped it in her palms.

"Enjoy the apple at you leisure, little pet! Thank you for the loaf of bread..."

Said the beggar-woman, brandished in the air her stick and vanished...

Up the stairs the Princess ran with the dog, which then began pitifully staring, whining, just as if its heart were pining for the gift of speech to say: "Throw that apple far away!"

Hastily his neck she patted: "Hey, Sokolko, what's the matter? Lie down!"

Entering once more her own room, she shut the door, sat there with her spindle humming, waiting for her brothers' coming.

But she could not take her gaze from the apple where it lay, full of fragrance, rosy, glowing, fresh and juicy, ripe and golden, sweet as honey to the lips! She could even see the pips...

First the Princess thought of waiting until dinner. But temptation proved too strong. She grasped the bright apple, took a stealthy bite and with fair cheek, sweetly hollowed a delicious morsel swallowed.

All at once her breathing stopped, listlessly her white arms dropped. From her lap the rosy apple tumbled to the floor. The hapless maiden closed her swooning eyes, reeled and fell without a cry, on the bench her forehead striking, then lay still beneath the ikon...

Now the brothers, as it chanced, were returning in a band from another warlike foray. Out to meet them in the forest, went the dog and, running hard, led them straight into the yard.

Said the Knights: "An evil omen! Grief in store!"

The door they opened, walked into the room and gasped. But the dog like lightning dashed for the apple and devoured it. Death that instant overpowered it. For the apple was, they saw, filled with poison to the core.

By the dead Princess the brothers bent their heads in tears and uttered holy prayer to save her soul; Nothing could their grief console.

From the bench they raised her, dressed her, wished within a grave to rest her. Then had second thoughts. For she was as rosy as if sleep. Garlands of repose were wreathing round her, though she was not breathing.

Three whole days they waited, but still her eyes were tightly shut.

So that night with solemn ritual, in a coffin made of crystal, they laid out the body fair of the Princess and from there, to a hollow mountain bore her, where a tomb they fashioned for her:

Iron chains they used to fix her glass case to pillars six. With due caution, and erected iron railings to protect it.

Then the Eldest smote his breast, and the dead Princess addressed:

"Ever peaceful be your slumber! Though your days were few in number On this earth spite took its toll? Yet shall heaven have your soul. With pure love did we regard you, for your loved one did we guard you, but you came not to the groom, only to a chill dark tomb."

That same day the bad Tsarina, waiting for good news to reach her, secretly the mirror took and her usual question put:

"Who is now by far the fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

And the answer satisfied:

"You, it cannot be denied. You in all the world are fairest. And your beauty is the rarest!"

In pursuit of his sweet bride, through the country far and wide, still Prince Yelisei goes riding, weeping bitterly. No tidings!

For no matter whom he asks, people either turn their backs, or most rudely rock with laughter: No one knows what he is after.

Now to the bright Sun in zeal, did the bold young Prince appeal:

"Sun, dear Sun! The whole year coursing through the sky, in springtime thawing from the chill earth winter snow! You observe us all below. Surely you'll not grudge an answer? Tell me, did you ever chance to see the Princess I revere? I'm her fiance." "My dear,"

Said the Sun with some insistence, "I have nowhere seen your Princess, so she's dead, we must presume. That is, if my friend, the Moon, has not met her on his travels, or seen clues you may unravel."

Through the dark night Yelisei, feeling anything but gay, with a lover's perseverance, waited for the Moon's appearance.

"Moon, O Moon, my friend!" he said. "Gold of horn and round of head, from the darkest shadows rising, with your eye the world apprising. You whom stars with love regard as you mount your nightly guard! Surely you'll not grudge an answer? Tell me, did you ever chance to see the Princess I revere? I'm her fiance." "O dear!"

Said the Moon in consternation,

"No, I have not seen the maiden. On my round I only go, when it is my turn, you know.

It would seem that I was resting, when she passed." "How very vexing!"

Cried aloud Prince Yelisei. But the Moon went on to say:

"Wait a minute! I suggest you have the Wind come to the rescue. Call him now! It's worth a try. And cheer up a bit! Goodbye!"

Yelisei, not losing courage, to the Wind's abode now hurried.

"Wind, O Wind! Lord of the sky, herding flocks of clouds on high. Stirring up the dark-blue ocean, setting all the air in motion. Unafraid of anyone, saving God in heaven alone! Surely you'll not grudge an answer? Tell me, did you ever chance to see the Princess I revere? I'm her fiance." "O hear!"

Said the Wind in turmoil blowing.

"Where a quiet stream is flowing, stands a mountain high and steep. In it lies a cavern deep; In this cave in shadows dismal, sways a coffin, made of crystal. Hung by chains from pillars six. Round it barren land in which no man ever meets another. In that tomb your bride discover!"

With a howl the Wind was gone. Yelisei wept loud and long. To the barren land he journeyed, desperately, sadly yearning, once again to see his bride.

On he rode. A mountain high rose before him, soaring steeply fom a land laid waste completely.

At its foot, an entrance dim. Yelisei went quickly in. There, he saw, in shadows dismal swayed a coffin made of crystal, where the Princess lay at rest, in the deep sleep of the blest. And the Prince in tears dissolving threw himself upon the coffin...

And it broke!

The maiden straight came to life, sat up, in great wonder looked about and yawning as she set her bed see-sawing, said with pretty arms outstretched:

"Gracious me! How long I've slept!"

Down she stepped from out the coffin. O the sighing and the sobbing! Carrying his bride, he strode back to daylight. Home they rode, making pleasant conversation, till they reached their destination.

Swiftly rumour spread around:

"The Princess is safe and sound!"

It so happened the Tsarina in her room was idly seated by her magic looking-glass, and to pass the time did ask:

"Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

Said the mirror in reply:

"You are fair, I can't deny, but the Princess is the fairest, and her beauty is the rarest!"

The Tsarina leapt and smashed on the floor her looking-glass.

Rushing to the door she saw the fair young Princess walk towards her.

Overcome by grief and spite, the Tsarina died that night.

From the grave where she was buried, to a wedding people hurried, for the good Prince Yelisei wed his Princess that same day.

Never since the World's creation, was there such a celebration; I was there, drank mead and yet, barely got my whiskers wet.

[libidomechanica]

“Must lovers of about”

I remember who I am.     Of grass as bristly and small birds do blow endlessly, wearing     silence cannot lives in a fair eyes Dew sat on Julia’s     hair even for queen altogether dear! Ne strips racing     to a point at children

in delight takes sea and No,     into his man? But I vnhappy man, express, to-morrow     see a text that fever where you hee’l flattering creations’—     not yet, as I thinks of black beauty’s pattern to ill:     should my cheek once love all

be truths, that’s endeavour, to dream     that held the soueraigneth! Then he asks me I will never     yet—ah me! Which so love accursèd duke; o give. As being     eyes of the bees the proud, by thy fair Catherine make common     causes all female

age, he reeleth frost, she liked to     coste, can no harm. Must lovers of about the bats, when, for     no offend, with nozzle search’d. What I could learne their most sweet     Robin sits on me, they have accelerating, because     he could glided in the

lips when theyr peace, the same time! Her     father neck; her cause by right perswades each flowe. So youngest     are at worth and now the grassye groundelayes, frame to     beginning singer, singe, I more at the little her preference,     save your wise men don’t know,

but in such animals could attach     myself would be a symphony&in a fond embrace     the hair blowing world. Anthea bade me there, why choose you.     Wings, a long in multitude on the prairie, the faces     glimmers that yours. But thou

dost in the morning’s dew, ne’er to     a silence jewel-thick sunn’d it will have often lived preacher     as if upon it will, power’s bed; the gods ordain’d his     Thebes, and Peace, and bear, and of a living long of thine. Catherine,     I something in that

every way before. And where each     look’d down, the heroic syllables both Princes and braid     my spit. To be descension, her eyes, fore duteous plight, each     others are pretty, to dwell of carelesse fere, the Lion’s     steeple, and thought me

to the water loves thatch upon     the ransom of thine above reflection: though life to coste     to coste, can nowhere. Sin of sentinel before: the will     come though she had done—and wise; set me endite; take me to     that he had leave: but in

such hail, such who, coward … this baby     that, as under the immutable curls all is due:     only with me ye women are but most I strive, more in     his feet two, I like then,— let us pray! When you do not     made a mirror of that

were no one here bereft, nor cheek     once loves no one another haven’t been singly unkind,     I know why they came, whose sapling branches yearning, ever     person! When two mouth of a new-fall’n years I must have always     remember the maketh

a glorious found his heal     us I would be hearty thought of one toil for the same:     sweet to pleasure left undone toil for that art that but now     become wolves no one were five minutes apace, least he flee.     As he, there is now before

a middling grabs me by the     chief city you would have guessed no belt and in his eyes flash’d     over and gone to see her sensational turn. A watching     through his place: shall I believe ourselves for this coming     how Art can a wild, and

endeth, which is mornes the long-     clothes of thing lover. That your finger with stare, while to find     such fine a figure, the light shall have always scorched by the     new creations’—not yet. On one look out? But frendly Faeries,     Love dies! Again

unclenched, and the rear, flee themes in     at the west sense? Flye to me thou hast beef I have wound herself     being crime. A day of Light of loue, and swift they write     letters, poems, and trimly trodden trade, to the nights faint     breeches, crying, never

though the force to boast; how Poles right,     and not die, nor would braid my shoes, and she’d said, My life in     the motto of Mortal Petersburgh; suppose, made of grass.     The wild-briar blood. Feast you will decide, unless mountains;     there’s a Religion.

[lawrising-a]

( continued from here! // @pseudoneiric )

there's a sore sensation nestling against the sensitive skin of his wrist -- not rubbed raw, exactly, considering his tie is too silky to achieve such a feat ( and he, desperately, tried to move as little as possible ) but it still stings. a chiding reminder of what he allowed to happen not even minutes ago. yellow wrapped around him, completely bound and helpless ... it was something he can't say he's done before, not like that. he thinks the correct term would be bondage, but was it? gloved hands sinking beneath layers of flesh to expose the fluttering organs beneath, and expose her own in turn. call him crazy, but that's not what he thought bondage was about. but when was anything with lilian it's textbook definition? he can't blame anyone for his display of vulnerability except himself, completely ensnared with the girl the moment they crossed paths. there were times he watered down his attraction, for both their sakes, blaming her allure for his enchantment. yet lies come clean eventually and here he now perches. the edge of his mused bed, chest rising and falling more then it should as he burns with the black markings drifted upon his ivory skin. lipstick marks painting him in a light he's not used to. he's been stripped of all his warm tones and fake boy scout personas ; left in cool colors. green pants and black marks.

‘and what are you ... the sun?’ whispered a voice earlier, like every hushed word was a secret reserved between the two of them. mat rolls his shoulders, because he doesn't feel that way anymore. never has, honestly. he wants to be beaming lights with a killer gravitational pull, but he ... isn't. the colors on him now is a striking reminder of that : yet he replays lilian's maddening words and fools himself briefly. it's okay to believe lies when she's the one feeding them! as long as she believes it, why can't he humor it? everything she said had been a warped view, a funhouse mirror at those shifty carnivals -- but it was raw honesty from lilian, and he can't turn away the swell of attention. even if he should, even if mat should waltz into the bathroom where she's currently shrouding herself away and spill out the truth. let her know he isn't some angelic force but rather a mockery of one. how matthew naively hopes he can be hers regardless of his lack of good ... it's dizzying, causing his vision to blur, because it's been a while since he's confronted this about himself. the student doesn't like it. but oh, he loves her -- a burning sensation that lights his veins aflame and races his heart.

distractingly, he presses the pad of his rough thumb against the mark on the corner of his lips. a replica of a kiss she once bestowed upon him like salvation itself ( hm, what's with the spur of religious imagery today? hah ). trying to prod away the disappointment that rises every time he feels the wishful want of her actual lips there instead. she has to -- she has to feel something for him at this point, right? that can't be an assumption anymore, can it? questions whirl around as his fingers ghost down his ruined skin, tracing over the words left with his own hands like confirmation. like he's silently saying 'yes, property of lilian eyler.' like he's finally allowing himself a love he thought he wouldn't ever have when he traces, ‘mine. mine. mine-’ that ends with him working his way back up, away from the bulge of his stomach and trembling arms -- away from 'poetry, life, religion' and back to his lips. where he's reminded, with a fuzzy feeling balling up in his chest, 'mine.' almost pushing hard enough to slip a finger through his pink lips, plush and ready for ... mat isn't sure. he just wants her to kiss him there. though he knows she won't, least not today. and even if there's this sickening greed that controls him with a talent, he lets her have that. lets her take all her time in the bathroom and tries not to beg for more. how did she elegantly put in, in all her poetic prose that he's seen briefly in the club? a loyal dog? just for you now, only ever for you, lili--

a shiver rocks his form, startling his hands to the edge of the bed to tear into as he digs his heels into the carpet ( like he once had in the bed, to ground himself, to not buck ). was his pulse racing with the life she declared to adore so much? the man sinks canines into his cheek to hold back from beckoning her out to check. no, no ; he said he'd leave her be. it's a good thing for them both right now. if she had stayed and let the fabric obscuring his view fall from his eyes, he would've reached for her. try to pull them close and he'd ramble like a mad man ... wouldn't he have scared her? some part of him thinks he still has. which wobbles his posture in order to keep his head bowed, like awaiting punishment. almost waiting for pain building in his scalp, because surely she'd card her delicate laced fingers through his hair with a bit more force if she came back out. or was that his gentle throb of arousal wanting that? she got him worked up so easily ; ah, well, at least it's a good exercise for his thinning self control ...

a sigh, shaky and human, whistles out of parted lips. dry due to the fact he can't lick them thanks to the lipstick, though he can't help but wonder if he did -- would he be licking lilian's lips that way? the material touched them ... realizing how wild he is, a thoroughly teased animal, matthew laughs nervously. jesus christ, there's parts of him strewn all around his bedroom, because there's no way mat is fully put together. his brain feels like soupy liquid dripping from his ears and hissing into his scarlet skin. a puzzle of a man that lilian expertly took apart and left half completed. no matter how hard he tries to reel himself in, chase away all the sweetened morbidness delivered, he can't find all the pieces. surely, the clever girl took some with her to the bathroom. she was ... possessive. mat learned that just now. possessive over him, envious of basic things that matthew almost couldn't believe. she'll never know how comforting it was to see. a feeling now nestled happily within because nobody's been possessive of him before! she mustn't of gotten the memo from former friends, didn't hear how expendable he was to everyone who's known him. people don't get jealous for matthew, they don't care how much he sleeps, they don't care if he isolates away -- and they certainly don't care if his eyes linger on a girl with purple hair.

because who would find him special? he's an emotional wreck everyone stays weary of, a boy to eye with skepticism. his jealousy, his rawness, his obsessive love and need is wrong and ugly. you're shunned for those things by society. to the world, mat is anything but special, he's wrong ; so wrong and he's relentlessly tried to change that. but lilian ... she thinks otherwise. feels like he feels. sensitive and lovesick. and while he's always tried to hide before, if the girl with inky hair thinks it's beautiful and radiant ... everyone else must be wrong, because lilian eyler never is! as clever as the devil and twice as pretty, so the saying goes. with a rueful smile, too boyish and gentle for his own sharp face, he thinks it's an accurate fit for his favorite person ever. his throbbing molten core of earth, the darkened reflective surface of his beloved moon.

“im excited about lunch tomorrow, you know?” calls mat, voice as rough as ever ; like he uses it too much. but during this whole date, he fears he hasn't used it enough. “i haven't eaten with another person in a while. i usually just grab an apple and loiter around the library.” did you think i ate with yuri? though the fawn haired male doesn't ask, he quickly kills that assumption if it festered in lilian's mind. “if it goes well, we could ... ah, why don't we eat together from then on? maybe everyday? maybe forever! i think it'd be ... nice.”

the last part is so quiet he's not sure she hears it, but maybe she hears it die off. senses his shyness that bares him like it's her own. matthew doesn't want to dwell in it, so he tries to push forward. telling himself to keep tearing down the walls until there's nothing left ( the bathroom walls or his own? ). she deserves to hear more then his sputters from their little session, brought on by gutting arousal and his own jittery sparks : she deserves the world on an obsidian platter. to know he does want to be owned by her, to understand he'd be so comfortable displaying that label for all to see. and for lilian to be told, sternly, that he'd choose her out of a line up with certainty most would be scared of. love isn't half way for him, ever, and lilian needs to know that. even if his heart thunders and he wants to hear more of her disarming voice instead.

“and i want to be yours ; your idea with the whole 'blindly leading me around' wasn't half bad!” heartfelt chuckling makes him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin, her skin now, isn't it? “i'd let you blind me, i'd let you led me even if i was deaf and mute. you could be all my senses, because maybe then i'd trust them more. you don't know how much i wish these words on me were permanent, lilian --” mat twists his mouth, ruins his hair more. “darling, you just ... i've tried so hard to be normal this year, more then any other, yet you make me so helpless! it's ... how do you do that? do you know how special you are, how beautiful? perfect ... well, perhaps not that ; because you're stupid for worrying about not owning me. isn't it obvious you already do? were these reminders for me, or wishes for you?"

( eyes flutter to words he can barely read on his bared parts, words overlapping due to frenzy. all true. all true )

with a tightening throat, emotions rising like waves and god he could just drown, matthew lays back on the mattress. meekly pulling the tie out from under him, only to drag it over his used wrists. picturing only her. wondering if this sight would entice her to keep going when she comes out. and he wants to say lilian, you've won! congratulations on having a lover for life! or, something like : yuri couldn't pry me from your cold dead fingers! but what stumbles out is something foolish that he immediately grimaces over. hopefully she's too shaken to judge him too much.

“i think you're my soulmate, lilian. i .. really do.” so why would i ever let you go? or deem you unworthy? it's me, im unworthy. not you, never never -- his lashes tickle his skin when he shuts his eyes. breath hitching before evening out. reminding himself to calm down because matthew thinks he'll actually explode otherwise. a bundle of nerves, of her love, is all he really is.

[conaionaru]

Honor and blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Meeting the family

Synopsis: Vanya meets the boat builder Floki and his wife Helga and comes to terms with her own faith.

Warning: Angst, forced marriage, toxic family, mentions of blood, Ivar, fluff (because why not), mentions of setting people on fire

Tagged

@shannygoatgruff @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @heavenly1927 @lol-haha-joke

She chose a red dress and then changed into a green one; finally, she let Margrethe chose for her. The blonde thrall chose a pretty pink dress that made her look innocent.

She also changed her hairstyle at least twice before Margrethe told her she wouldn't change it anymore. Servant or not, the girl was fed up with Vanya's nervousness.

It's kind of funny how Vanya is more nervous about meeting Floki and Helga then she was when she met Aslaug. But a man like the boat builder is more intimidating than the Queen of Kattegat.

Ivar kept telling her that the older Viking wouldn't do anything more than mock her at worst. But yet she was still nervous on her way to them. She imagined a tall man with many muscles with a glare made of hellfire.

That's not what she got. The lean man giggling by a tree was far from a spawn of Satan. Vanya had a feeling all the rumors of Viking must be false. They were human; some were even kind, far from demons from hell who didn't bleed when you struck them with a sword.

"Why did you drag yourself here, cripple?" The strange man called out in a mocking tone. Vanya froze in her place behind Ivar. She hated the way he spoke to him.

She opened her mouth to tell him off, but Ivar spoke up instead. "To see your insane old ass. I want you to meet Vanya." Well, that went better than she expected.

"Hello." The kind voice that spoke behind her startled her. The blonde woman looked so happy to see her, Vanya couldn't help but smile back.

"Don't bother, Helga. The Christian doesn't understand." Vanya frowned at his words with Helga mirroring her. The kind female opened her mouth to scold her husband only for Vanya to intervene.

"It is very nice to meet you, Helga. You too, Floki. Ivar told me a lot about you." Helga and Ivar looked at her with pride. Meanwhile, Floki narrowed his eyes at her as if he was looking into her soul. Funny considering he didn't believe they existed.

Afterward, he giggled before walking over to Ivar and patting him on the head like a dog. The Prince swatted his hand away and hit him in the knee, causing the other man to jump away laughing. "He talked about you too. I did not expect you to talk at all from what he told me."

Vanya looked down at Ivar and raised a curious eyebrow at him. She wondered what he told the man he saw as a father figure, especially if Floki saw her as a mute.

"Sit. Let's talk." Helga ushered them around a put out fire with logs around it. Vanya sat down next to Ivar, who heaved himself onto the wood effortlessly. She admired his grace and strength. And his muscles. Especially his muscles.

She liked Helga already, Floki was a whole different story. He didn't mock her as much as she expected, but he obviously hated her faith. At least they had something in common.

"Ivar says you won't be a Christian after tomorrow. How do you feel about that?" The accusation behind that sentence was so evident it hurt. Yet Vanya didn't dwell on it. Her husband to be mentioned that Floki always hated Christians. Especially the one who befriended Ivar's father, Ragnar. The story of how he killed the monk wasn't exactly a vote of confidence to her.

She blinked once before she looked up to the sky to escape his mean gaze. "Well, I don't know. I like the gods Ivar speaks of. They seem better than mine. But he is my family's God. Even if he isn't that helpful."

"Helpful?" Great, now Ivar's questioning her too. She had a suspicion that the two planned this whole conversation to find out where she stood with her faith.

The Saxon Princess looked at the two Vikings again and shrugged. "He must be a busy God if he never answers my prayers. He doesn't protect people like the Aesir."

The answer both amused and satisfied the duo, which Vanya was thankful for. Whatever God answered her inner cry for help, she was grateful for the support.

"And what do you pray for?" Helga asked curiously. The ginger thought hard about the question. What would she say? Last, she prayed it was for her to die on the open sea.

"Many things. Safety, happiness, forgiveness. I'm sure it is no different from your prayers." The older female nodded with a small smile on her lips.

Floki instead rolled his eyes at that and looked at Ivar from the corner of his eye before smirking. "And how do you like our little Cripple?"

Vanya frowned at the word and shook her head at him. "I like IVAR so far." The emphasis on his name made the said male smirk proudly.  Apparently, the answer pleased Floki too. Even Helga smiled at that.

They sat in a circle talking about tomorrow's wedding. Helga told her a little about her own wedding and what she should expect. The Saxon Princess had no idea what to think of the goat blood she will be sprinkled with, but otherwise, everything sounded great. The sword tradition interested her the most. While the two females talked, Floki led Ivar to his newest boat to show him something.

"Poor little Christian isn't right in the head. She actually likes you." Floki teased the younger Viking when they were out of hearing range. Ivar glared up at the boat builder and scoffed.

"Shut it, old fool. Well? Do you like her?" The two had a stare off as feminine laughter sounded in the background. Then the atmosphere changed, and the laughed as Floki sat down in the dirt next to the youngest son of Ragnar. He put an arm around his shoulders and lightly swayed them from side to side.

Floki looked at his sweet Helga, talking to the redhead. They both smiled while talking about something that the two men couldn't make out. "She is okay for a Christian." Floki spat out the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Ivar let out a long breath and looked at the happy ginger.

She looked so pretty, talking to Helga with her braided hair and pink dress. She always looked beautiful, no matter what she wore. When Bjorn told him that the king of Slegia chose him as the future husband for Vanya, he was angry. But Aslaug kept bothering him about it till he agreed. That was a day before the redhead arrived. He just couldn't say no to his mother when she looked at him with soft eyes, worried he would never find love. Ivar was no fool. He knew why Silas chose him instead of his older brothers. It had nothing to do with age.

Bjorn said that the king asked about all of them. And when he mentioned that Ivar's a cripple, he chose him. After all, the chances of producing a male heir are low for somebody whose lower half doesn't work—or creating any child at all. And without anybody to raise a claim on Silas's throne, he can keep on ruling till he creates an heir of his own.

And Ivar wasn't the only one aware of this plan, Sigurd threw it in his face the moment the engagement was announced. But he wouldn't say it in front of her, Sigurd was too much of a coward to do it.

"Poor little Ivar will be a married man tomorrow." Floki teased, ruffling his hair only for Ivar to roll his eyes at him.

"You say it like it's terrible. Are you not married? What would Helga say if she heard you." Ivar snapped back halfheartedly. He was nervous about marrying her, but not for the reasons his brothers would be. He never cared for women, so not being free to sleep around didn't bother him as much as it would bother Hvitserk or Ubbe, or Bjorn. It was more about spending the rest of his life with somebody who would see his legs daily. Somebody who didn't say what they thought without being asked to do so.

"But, you are not marrying Helga." The way Floki said it made Ivar pause in his thinking. He was right. Helga and Vanya were different. They may both be kind and soft-spoken, but Helga knew the ways of the Vikings. Meanwhile, Vanya got pale only at the mention of blood. She wasn't cut for the violent methods that Ivar loved, but she doesn't have to be. He had no problem keeping her away from it all if it meant she would stay by his side.

The redhead wasn't like the other women he knew. Every girl he saw looked at him with either pity or disgust. Vanya treated him like an equal. That's why he enjoyed their evening talks so much. Even if every time she mentioned Silas or froze every time she said something she thought would make him angry, he wanted to hit or kill something.

The two walked men walked to their wife and bride. The two were huddled together on a log, giggling about something. "Really? Up to his ears?"

Helga nodded at the ginger's question and covered her mouth with her hand. "Yes. He was covered in mud up to his ears. You could see nothing but the blue eyes."

"What are you two gossiping about?" Floki asked them suspiciously, Ivar knew precisely what they were talking about. Helga looked up at Floki with a smile and giggled again.

"The time you threw Ivar into the mud when he wouldn't stop asking questions." Ivar glared at Helga for telling Vanya such an embarrassing moment. He was only ten and wanted to know all about the boat Floki was building; he wouldn't let him work till he answered every question. The old Viking got so frustrated with him he jokingly threw him into the mud near them. Only Ivar slipped and caked his whole face in it. His mother made him bathe three times, cause the dirt wouldn't get out of his hair.

Vanya saw his angry shook her head at him, laughing. "It is alright. I did a lot of embarrassing things when I was a child too." She reassured him in English. Yet his sour face didn't change.

"Like what, huh?" Ivar asked, raising an eyebrow at her while Helga and Floki watched them talk. Vanya thought hard about a moment in her life where she made a fool of herself. It wasn't that hard, but she had a feeling saying her whole life was embarrassing wouldn't make Ivar happy.

"When I was six, my father went hunting with Silas. So I was alone at home with my mother. She had a visitor over. An older man, he was very handsome and knew many stories. I liked him until he called my father a fool for letting him stay. So when my mother went to change her dress, I asked him to sit with me by the fire. I moved his leg to the fire. He was so focused on his cup of wine he didn't realize that his clothes were aflame till mother walked in. So I spilled the pitched of wine on him to put it out. I poured it over his head, making him look like a wet dog. He looked so foolish mother sent him away."

Ivar looked at her with an open mouth and wide eyes. "You set him on fire?" He looked at Floki and smirked at him. "She set her mother's lover on fire when she was six."

Floki laughed at this while she blushed. "Well, you asked." She said, smiling slightly at her future husband.

"I asked about something embarrassing." Ivar pointed out, making her shake her head and roll her eyes.

"Well, it was embarrassing for me when Mother told Father what I did, and he had me locked in my room for a week, especially when he called me his little Spark after that." She whined, making him laugh. Vanya rolled her eyes at his antics and looked at Helga for help. Floki kept grinning at her, and Ivar telling him that she fit him better than he thought.

The sentence just had to keep haunting her, didn't it? A husband that fits her. Maybe he did. She certainly liked it.

[homeformyheart]

unraveling truth | chapter 1: the tower (rod au)

author’s note: this is a ride or die princess/fantasy AU with inspiration from a bunch of different places, including a tarot card theme per chapter. some dialogue and scenes will reflect or tie back to the original story by pixelberry.

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. series/pairing: ride or die – colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler); minor logan x mc series rating/warnings: 16+ chapter rating/warnings: 13+ word count: 4.2k story summary: eleanor wheeler is a princess and dreading her 18th birthday when she’s expected to select her future husband from her stifling peer group of eligible nobles. however, a not-so-chance encounter with a mysterious stranger she can’t quite place and a reckoning unlike any other finds her on a crazy self-discovery journey and quest to reclaim her throne.

unraveling truth | chapter 1: the tower

a tall, severe looking woman loomed over ellie’s head from behind, casting a shadow on the random flowers and landscapes she had been doodling in the notebook in front of her for the last two hours. she was supposed to be taking notes on all the suitable princes that would be arriving late afternoon to attend her eighteenth birthday ball, which happened to be one of her least favorite annual traditions. even though she would prefer a day out in the town or a quiet day in with those closest to her, as the guest of honor it was her duty to play host to all royals and nobles from the neighboring kingdoms while dodging inappropriate commentary about her beauty and womanly figure from men who were her father’s age and their wives who not-so-subtly insisted on trying to set her up with their sons.

this year, though, the ball was going to take on a slightly different, or rather expanded, purpose. it was also going to serve as her official societal debut as an adult, which meant it was going to be exponentially harder to avoid all the matchmaking conversations. now that she was turning eighteen, she was expected to pick a suitor by the end of the social season. and unfortunately for her, the end was coming up in a fortnight. as much as she hated how long the social season felt, now she wished she could delay it a little longer.

ellie flinched at the sound of her etiquette tutor’s stern voice and pointer slamming down on her parchment, bringing her attention back to the lesson.

“i don’t think drawing horses and flowers has any value in helping you select a proper suitor, your highness. today of all days, you must pay attention.”

ellie straightened up in her seat and feigned the sincerity in her voice as she replied, “i’m so sorry, mrs. clarke. i was paying attention – i know the best economically advantageous ally for us would be with the vandermeer family since we share a border.”

mrs. clark clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “we’ll review again, from the top.”

ellie inwardly groaned as she counted the minutes until her lecture was over. she wasn’t sure why she needed a refresher on the histories and lineage of each of the noble families that would be in attendance, but her father had insisted it was critical to making the right impression on her future in-laws, a term she already resented. she was only turning eighteen and had never been out of the country on her own before. how could she be expected to get married?

as soon as she was dismissed, she ran, or rather, walked as briskly as a princess should, to her chambers, where her best friend and lady-in-waiting, riya was waiting for her with her riding outfit prepared and tarot deck in hand.

“you are the best, riya! after three hours hearing about the same old stories about how noble families are constantly fighting for wealth or defending their titles, i could really use a ride,” ellie grimaced, letting out a loud sigh as riya helped her out of her dress, loosening the tight laces on the corset and helping her get changed.

“mmhm, and spend some time with looogan,” riya teased. ellie gave riya a pointed look as she pulled on her boots.

riya just looked at ellie with a raised eyebrow. “i’ve seen the way you look at him, and more importantly, the way he looks at you.”

ellie blushed. “i know, he’s sweet and he was my first kiss and everything, but at the end of the day, he’s my bodyguard and i have to marry a noble.”

riya wrapped ellie up in a big hug. “i know that sucks but i’m here for you, okay?”

“only when darius isn’t around, right?” ellie giggled at the blush that appeared on riya’s cheeks, earning her a light smack on the arm. “but really, thanks, riya.”

riya handed ellie the tarot deck – it was one of the few remaining possessions of her mother’s and it always made ellie feel a little closer to her mom whenever she communed with the cards – as though it was her mother’s spirit guiding her. ellie unfolded the handsewn and embroidered altar cloth and spread out the cards before her. she could really use some of that guidance today. ellie took a deep breath and concentrated on her intention for the day, although it was something she’d been ruminating over several weeks, which was: what is next for me?

ellie hovered her hand over the cards and moved from left to right with deliberation. she couldn’t describe exactly how the cards called her but it was a feeling, and when she felt the familiar invisible tug, she opened her eyes and flipped over the card.

the tower upright. one of the most dreaded cards in the deck and one that ellie had experienced only once before, when her mother died five years ago. ellie stared at the card until she felt riya’s reassuring hand on her shoulder. “it’s okay,” riya said softly, gently grabbing the card from ellie’s hand and nudging her to stand.

“i know. i can’t dwell on this now. thanks riya,” ellie sighed and made her way over to the door. “i’ll be back in an hour.”

* * * * * the sky was absolutely clear outside with the sun shining brightly overhead. ellie closed her eyes outside the stables and tilted her head upward so she could relish the warmth. feeling the gentle breeze tickle her hair and the sun warm her face immediately lightened her mood.

“hey there, troublemaker.”

ellie opened her eyes to find herself staring into the warm, brown eyes of her one-time adolescent crush. logan was leaning casually against the doorframe, his tousled hair framing his tanned face. ellie let her eyes wander around his face, taking in his firm jaw and high cheekbones and the way the corner of his lips were pulled up into a smirk, before responding.

“as i recall, you were always the one in trouble,” she smirked, walking around him and into the stables.

logan followed behind ellie, stopping to take the reins of midnight, her strong, black stallion and the more tempered chestnut mare he often rode to keep her company so he could lead the horses outside. “by the way, i’m pretty sure you’re the reason i got into trouble, since you seemed to make it your personal mission to ditch your security detail.”

ellie stuck her tongue out at him before climbing into the saddle swiftly. nothing quite compared to the feeling of freedom and control that she felt while riding. it didn’t take long before she was urging midnight to a gallop across the fields toward the woods at the edge of the palace property. she knew without looking that logan was right behind her, albeit a few paces behind given the chestnut mare he was riding was a little older. he was always cognizant of her reputation and kept up the appearances of distance between the two of them. the chestnut mare, which was the typical choice for noble ladies, was one such example of logan’s thoughtfulness toward her reputation. anyone paying attention to the stables would assume he had taken midnight while she rode the mare.

she finally slowed enough for logan to catch up as they approached the woods and she gently guided midnight toward a small path that they both knew by heart. it was a fairly narrow dirt path that seemed to go nowhere but she had discovered as a child that by turning right at a particular gap in the trees, the path opened up to a small clearing and pond in the center. ellie dismounted and made her way over to the pond, taking off her boots so she could dip her feet in the water. logan mirrored her and the two of them sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling with the breeze.

“i can’t believe somehow i’m supposed to decide who i want to marry today,” ellie said with a loud sigh. “i thought i would feel differently about being eighteen, but it’s just another day like all the others, isn’t it? i’m supposed to just keep my head down and do what’s asked of me.” she looked over at logan and felt a longing rise in her chest. the sun trickling through the leaves of the trees above them created dancing shadows on his serene face.

logan finally looked over at her and ellie suddenly felt as though the clearing was too warm and the water encircling her feet was not cold enough and all she wanted to do was reach over and pull logan into a kiss so she could breathe easy again. she didn’t know that much about him since he kept to himself so maybe her feelings were mostly physical in nature, but there was just something about him, especially when he looked at her as tenderly as he was doing now, that made her wish deep-down that she was born of a life where she had the option to choose him.

“no matter what, birthdays are for celebrating with those you love. and there’s a team of people working really hard to make sure that you get to celebrate the right way,” he said, giving her a dazzling smile that seemed to glow with warmth from the sun.

ellie pulled her feet out of the water and began drying off. “are you part of this ‘team of people’?” she asked, letting herself feel excited and repress the dread and longing she felt moments before.

logan smirked at her as she lifted herself onto her horse, following suit on his own. “that’s a secret. now, we better get back quickly before i get sentenced to death for kidnapping the princess.”

* * * * * the rest of the afternoon sped by as ellie was meticulously prepped as though she were both a rag doll and porcelain figurine. she was bathed, combed, and groomed until her skin felt raw and her scalp tingled unpleasantly before being pinched, waxed, and made up with delicate eye makeup and a deure shade of lipstick. finally, ellie put on her custom pale pink a-line gown with a flowing tulle skirt and lace sleeves. the high neckline kept the dress modest, but the cinched waist showed off her svelte figure. gold lace and intricate embroidery detail covered the dress, balancing the sheer softness of the pink against the bold color that would certainly shimmer under the ballroom chandeliers. riya carefully placed a gold braided headband on ellie’s head before securely tying the white mask decorated with pink and gold feathers over ellie’s eyes.

ellie had suggested the masquerade theme by convincing her father that getting to know the suitors while in disguise would help her make a more objective choice since hopefully they wouldn’t realize who she really was until the end of the evening. secretly, ellie also wanted to see if anyone would be interested in her if they didn’t know she was the princess. once riya gave her the thumbs up, ellie took a deep breath and stepped outside her room.

logan straightened up from where he was leaning against the wall opposite the door to ellie’s room. as her personal bodyguard, he was allowed to stay close to her, but he knew he was often pushing the definition of “close.” his eyes widened as he took in ellie’s appearance – she looked both absolutely angelic and mysterious, and he simultaneously forgot and became painfully aware that he was well below her station.

ellie beamed at him and gave a small twirl to show off the full dress. “what do you think?”

“you look absolutely breathtaking, your highness. now let’s go make your secret entrance,” logan said, letting out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and holding out his arm.

as ellie slid her petite arm through his, logan heard a soft voice whisper, it’s okay to love her. he looked around quickly with his peripheral vision but knew deep-down that the voice came from inside him. whether or not he had any real feelings for ellie didn’t matter, he had a job to do and couldn’t afford any distractions, no matter how beautiful and funny and kind they may be. as he led her down the back stairwell toward a side door he couldn’t help but glance down, trying to memorize the feel of her arm in his and the glow of the lights illuminating her cheeks. as they walked out the door, he took a deep breath and buried that voice as far down as he could, covering it with a metaphorical lid. she wasn’t meant to be his.

ellie extricated her arm from logan’s and gave him a nod. he stepped back and disappeared around the corner, presumably to find a shadow in the ballroom he would use to keep watch. ellie watched as noble after noble, dressed in their most ornate masks and formal wear made their way up the steps and through the palace doors. she clenched her fists at her side to steel herself before lifting her chin with pride and taking a step forward. she could do this.

she stepped inside and was quickly escorted by a servant toward the intimidating ballroom doors. out of the corner of her eye, she saw logan give her a reassuring smile from his “hiding place,” and smiled to herself before squaring her shoulders and walking purposefully into the ballroom, hoping she looked like the epitome of a noble lady. the room was already bustling with conversation and people milling about with drinks, and she flagged down the nearest servant as discreetly as she could so she could grab a flute of the sparkling champagne.

she took a careful sip and crinkled her nose at the carbonated bubbles tickling her nose but then quickly drank half the class once she realized she liked the crisp, dry flavor that hinted of apple. she felt the liquid settle in her stomach and a warm feeling bloom outward until she felt it on her cheeks. she had alcohol before of course, but forgot to take it slow.

ellie didn’t notice a tall nobleman walking toward her from the left and it was too late to pivot once she did. she took a couple steps to the left while looking to her right for a servant to leave her empty glass with when she walked right into a dark-haired man wearing a soft, velvet frock set in black and trimmed in silver lace and black silk gloves. her hand immediately went from where it was holding the skirt of her dress to his abdomen and she looked up to meet the most intense gaze she’d ever encountered. She could feel his gaze piercing through his matching black velvet mask.

“oh, i’m so sorry sir,” she quickly stammered, trying to take an off-balance step back to create space between them.

his arm shot out quickly under hers and held her steady at the waist. ellie felt her cheeks warm at his touch; it was strange, but she felt like his touch was just as intense as his gaze.

“looks like you’re in the wrong place, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear, grabbing the empty champagne flute out of her right hand and placing it on the tray of a servant walking past them.

ellie felt her temper flare and deliberately took a step back and smoothed out her skirts to keep from telling him off. “who wants to know?” ellie said, through a clenched smile and glare that she hoped conveyed that she thought he had some nerve talking to her like that.

“just wondering who you’re trying to impress, looking like that,” he replied, the corner of his lip tilting up into a very attractive smirk. “that dress seems a bit overkill if you’re tripping over your feet. not very graceful for a lady, are we?”

“i’m meeting someone so i’m afraid i’m going to have to excuse myself,” ellie forced out through a smile that was already hurting her cheeks. she was tempted to dig her heels into his toes and could imagine the satisfaction she’d feel at hearing him cry out in pain, but instead curtsied and turned to walk away.

she took one step forward when she felt a gloved hand grab onto her pinky finger. she whirled around slowly to maintain an air of grace but glared at the masked man who had let go of her finger and now had his hand outstretched toward her.

“dance with me,” he said calmly, but there was an edge to his voice ellie couldn’t quite place. she looked up into his eyes and realized that she didn’t think she had it in her to say no.

as soon as she nodded, he led her to the dance floor where a few other pairs were already dancing along with the live quartet. his arm slid confidently around her waist and ellie placed hers on his shoulder with practiced ease. she was surprised at the way he led her around the floor so gracefully, it felt like she was barely touching the floor.

“i’m surprised at how light you are on your feet. i don’t think i’ve seen you around,” ellie said carefully, tilting her head up to look at him as he twirled her around.

he smirked. “that’s because i haven’t been around.”

now ellie was really curious. “you mean, this social season? i’ve had to dance with a couple dozen nobles all summer but none of them dance quite like you.”

the smirk on his face faded into a thin, pressed line. “no, i haven’t been around for a few years. my father and i didn’t see eye-to-eye and he didn’t want me around.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—” he quickly spun her out and back in before she could finish her apology.

when he pulled her back in, he lowered his head by her ear and murmured, “i don’t want your pity, sweetheart. see you around.”

he bowed and she curtsied reflexively before he quickly turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. ellie didn’t have time to react before a different nobleman asked her to dance, followed by another, and she found herself going from partner to partner, song to song, making conversation about anything and nothing, leaving her without a chance to catch her breath and make sense of her spinning thoughts.

ellie excused herself from her last partner, grabbing and subsequently draining another glass of champagne from a servant walking by before weaving in and around couples on the dancefloor until she reached the pillar closest to the quartet. she ducked behind the pillar and folded the skirt of her dress behind her so it wouldn’t flare out and took a few slow, deep breaths to calm herself down.

every single person that she danced with clearly had one agenda for tonight. while she was grateful none of them managed to guess who she really was, at least out loud, it was getting tiresome hearing about who they thought had the best chance of marrying her or wondering where she was or wondering if she might be interested in them. only one person didn’t seem to care about that, and she had no idea who he was or where he was from.

maybe she was feeling on edge at the moment with all the adrenaline from the evening pumping through her but she swore she could feel someone approaching her hiding spot. not like the normal self-defense or slightly paranoid feeling of someone coming up behind you, but a real, grounded gut feeling that someone was about to come up to her. ellie quickly pivoted to her right and raised her fists so she wouldn’t be caught off guard but was surprised anyway to see logan.

“whoa, there troublemaker. it’s just me. come on, it’s time for your announcement,” logan said quietly. despite the smirk on his face, ellie couldn’t find the usual playfulness in his eyes.

he led her toward the front where her father was waiting, his arm outstretched toward her. she felt logan leave her side and retreat back to a discreet location a split second before he actually did it, but didn’t get a chance to process that before her father looped her hand through his arm and led her toward the front of the room.

“ready, ellie? your life won’t be the same after this,” her father smiled as he looked down at her the way he had done for as long as she could remember, at least since her mother died. like she was a precious, fragile little flower that needed to be protected from the elements of nature.

before she had a chance to answer, a chorus of silverware clinking against champagne glasses quickly quieted the oblivious conversations still happening and ellie had to physically fight her own body from recoil from all the eyes that were now staring at her. she tried to distract herself from the gnawing in her stomach by scanning the room for any expressions of those she danced with who didn’t realize who she was at the time. it was entertaining to say the least, seeing people suddenly look embarrassed and shocked.

her father cleared his throat and ellie knew that was her cue to smile like the picture-perfect princess if she wasn’t already. she kept scanning the room, and couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that the mysterious man she bumped into was nowhere to be found. she sighed inwardly and turned her attention back to her father’s speech since she would have to give hers once he was done.

“i just have one last thing to say to my beloved daughter, eleanor. i am so proud of the young woman you’ve become and i know you’ll do great things. everyone please, raise a glass to celebrate my wonderful daughter’s birthday—” he had raised his glass of champagne but was cut off by a rumbling sound overhead that was quickly followed by a CRACK! and the crunch of concrete crumbling together.

ellie looked up and saw a deep fissure was defacing the beautiful greek-castle architecture design of the ceiling and the crack was expanding as it approached the front of the room, where she currently stood next to her father, frozen in shock. she barely registered logan appearing behind her.

“go! keep her safe,” her father implored, turning only after logan gave him a firm nod.

“no, wait, dad!” ellie watched with horror as her dad disappeared behind the fallen rubble until he was out of sight. logan started half-dragging, half-carrying her until she came to her senses and started running as fast as she could in heels and a long dress, letting him guide her by the hand around screaming people and falling concrete.

they stepped out through a hidden exit that was mostly used by servants to make it easier for them to get to the ballroom from the kitchen. logan expertly led her through the hidden corridor and ellie vaguely registered how abandoned the kitchen looked, with trays of desserts and champagne ready to go; the irony of how wasteful this luxury could be was not lost on her. despite how her toes pinched, she kept her mouth shut and did her best to keep up with logan, who made a beeline for the back door and around the castle until they reached the stables.

midnight and a horse ellie didn’t recognize were already saddled with what looked like fully packed saddle bags.

“why does midnight look like she’s been prepared for an escape and whose horse is that?” ellie was dumbfounded and there was no one else in the stables.

logan pulled her toward midnight and lifted her up so she was forced to grab on to the reins and climb into the saddle as he quickly turned to do the same on his horse. “i’ll explain later, we need to get as far away from here as possible. follow my lead and don’t stop for anyone!”

ellie matched logan’s pace as they left the castle grounds and even though they were galloping full speed under the light of the moon, ellie couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. part of the roof had collapsed, leaving the stone turret closest to her vantage point standing alone among the rubble, its gray stone coat illuminated by the moon.

in that moment, she knew she might never see her home or her father again. the picture of the turret standing tall like a tower was seared in her mind and a sense of dread unlike anything she had felt before settled in her chest. she knew this sudden upheaval of her life, the destruction of her home, and the loss of her innocence was only the beginning of what the cards were trying to tell her.

* * * * * mentions: @kat-tia801​; @lovehugsandcandy​; permatag: @withbeautyandrage​; @agentnolastname​; @freckles-spangledvampire​