#( you make a fool of death with your beauty && visage )

[hisui-dreamer]

Hi, congratulations on 1k followers! I love your writing a lot and I was hoping you could do Villainess AUs with Malleus? Like isekai manhwa style? Thank you!!

the gazelle's sweet briar

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x f!reader

Synopsis: your first objective was to avoid the main characters, but it's not easy when you only have the memories of your friend's ramblings to work off of

Tags: cliché isekai plot, reincarnation, fluff, arranged marriage, tw (mentioned): bad parenting, patriarchal society, death

Word count: 1.6k+

Notes: @coralinnii has an amazing series based on isekai villainesses, so i definitely recommend you check out her work too! im so in love with it (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there lived a villainess of exceptional allure, her visage as enchanting as a moonlit night. However, this bewitching beauty concealed a heart blackened by a singular obsession with appearances.

From the earliest days of her upbringing, her mother, a woman who had managed to step into aristocracy by charming a noble, had instilled in her a cruel belief: that those who were not blessed with physical perfection were destined for lives of relentless mockery and eternal solitude. This twisted ideology consumed the villainess' every thought, blinding her to the virtues of education and morality. She became nothing more than a porcelain doll, admired solely for her aesthetic charm.

The King arranged a marriage between her and Duke Draconia, the enigmatic descendant of the dragons who ruled the northern lands, believing that such a striking bride would surely please the reclusive Duke.

However, the King remained oblivious to the swirling rumours that pervaded the courtly circles. Whispers spoke of the Duke as a hideous man who had never once revealed his face, perpetually concealed behind a forbidding black mask. When the rumours reached the villainess' ears, she threw tantrum after tantrum, vehemently refusing to wed a man whose appearance couldn't possibly match her own.

Yet, a royal decree could not be denied. Reluctantly, the villainess embarked on her journey to the northern realm in bitter acceptance. It had rained the moment she arrived, the castle dark and uninviting, with thorns crawling onto the obsidian walls. The Duke, an oblivious and shy man, did not greet her at the grand entrance. Instead, she was met by the Duke's advisor, a man with a curiously boyish features.

Humiliation welled up within the villainess' heart, for she felt as if she were being played the fool by the entire duchy. On the eve of her arrival, anxiety gnawed at her like a relentless spectre.

As night descended, the Duke, mustering his courage, attempted to approach the vexed lady.

But when the villainess beheld his masked face, terror seized her like a vice. "Stay back! You hideous beast!" she cried out, her voice trembling with fear, and she recoiled, her steps faltering as she retreated from him.

The Duke, wounded by her cruel words, attempted to console her, his outstretched hand beseeching understanding. Yet, her irrational dread overcame her, and she continued her backward retreat until, with a heart-stopping scream, she slipped from an open window.

That was how the villainess' life ended.

you hadn't actually read the book, but it wasn't difficult identifying who you got reincarnated as

especially with how your best friend obsessed over this villainess because, and i quote, "if pretty, why evil, huh???"

you woke up a week before the villainess would depart for the North, but that week alone was enough to make you understand the way she acted

every day, you were fed portions fitting of a child, had your skin rubbed raw as you were bathed, and not a moment of your mother's nitpicking about a sudden imperfection she found in you

in truth, you were more than glad to leave for the North, even if that's where your life would be on the line

the survival plan was simple: maintain an amicable relationship with the duchy until the night the heroine stumbles in to ask for a night of shelter, to which the heroine would heal the emotional wounds of the Duke, and share with him the beauty of love, bringing warmth into his heart

and so, you arrived at the estate, the castle tall and intimidating with the clouds dark and foreboding

still, you stepped out of your carriage (with wobbly legs) and met the advisor (your friend's favourite character, in fact)

the advisor, lilia, though seemed young, was actually the very man who raised the duke in the absence of his parents

he welcomed you as the lady of the duchy, and led you to your quarters

by nightfall, you were quite comfortable with living in the estate

everyone was polite, the food was delicious (and properly sized), and you had no doubt you'd settle nicely here

as a precaution to the death sequence, you decided to take a stroll in the rose garden after dinner

if you were already on the ground floor, you couldn't fall to your death, right?

but unexpectedly, you encountered a lone figure in the centre of the garden

he was incredibly tall, dressed simply, his emerald eyes fixated on the estate

upon closer inspection, you noticed he had long horns as well, perhaps he was a gazelle beastman?

either way, you were curious about what it was that held his attention so strongly that he couldn't notice your presence

"Excuse me, sir? May I ask what is so interesting about the building?" you timidly break the silence of the night.

The man turns to you, his eyes widening in surprise. "... Do you not know who I am?"

You blinked in confusion at his words. His words filled you with a sense of foreboding. You wondered if this person matched any of the characters your friend had so fervently described, but all you could recall was the beautiful villainess and the enigmatic advisor to the Duke.

"My apologies, I'm afraid I do not... May I know your name, sir?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered your question. "No... If that is the case, you may call me whatever you wish."

Perplexed by his response, you tried to come up with a suitable name. "Then... May I call you Mr. Gazelle?"

Upon hearing your words, he burst out in laughter. "Hahaha! What an interesting choice. Very well, I accept the name," he said. "In response to your first question, I was observing the gargoyles of the building."

on that night, not only did you learn more about the fascinating functions gargoyles serve, you also made your first friend in this life

strangely enough, you didn't meet the duke at all unlike the novel, which though strange, you greatly welcomed

if you didn't have any ties with him, then it'd be so much easier to just divorce him, get the money, and live a comfortable luxurious life far away from the main characters

though as you say that, you find yourself wanting to spend more and more time with "Mr Gazelle"

despite his intimidating appearance, he turned out to be a very generous person, frequently gifting you little trinkets he's made or bouquets he's arranged

he's started calling you "Briar", after the roses in the garden where he met you

you greatly appreciated the nickname, it felt better to be called that than the name of the villainess, that you could just be yourself and not play the role of a villainess avoiding ruin

you also find that whatever musings you've mentioned to him, they somehow manifest themselves

oh? you wish you could learn about embroidery? the next day there's a basket full of the highest quality threads and fabrics, with a gentle tutor to help you learn

(you still remember how cute "Mr Gazelle" looked when you gave him your first finished product, a handkerchief with an embroidered gargoyle)

what's this? you'd like to try more desserts from the capital you were never allowed to try? say no more! the next day the chef presents you with 10 different choices!

so you assumed he was an advisor of sorts to the Duke, because how else could your requests be granted so easily?

but one day, around two months after you started living in the duchy, "Mr Gazelle" asked you questions about the duke, whether you were afraid of him, would you prefer to meet him, curious questions like that

though surprised by the topic, you answered honestly, saying you don't really believe in the rumours (because you know from your friend he's an ethereal beauty) and yes, you would like to meet your husband

and what do you know? lilia informs you the duke wants to share dinner with you. what a coincidence!! :)

Nervousness held you in its grasp as you stepped into the room. Your gaze remained fixed on the carpet beneath your feet, and your knees bent gracefully as you executed the perfect curtsey.

"Your Grace."

You could hear sounds of shuffling, and then a pair of black boots entered your field of vision. Familiar hands found yours, guiding you to rise and stand upright. "Rise, my Briar," he murmured gently.

With hesitant anticipation, you finally looked up, taking in the obsidian mask that concealed his face. That voice, that nickname, and those enchanting eyes—it was all too familiar.

"Mr Gazelle..." you whispered in disbelief.

His eyes narrowed in mirth as he chuckled. "Although I hold great fondness for that name, I do wish you could call your husband by his name," he said as he began to remove his mask.

"Malleus..." you breathed.

A tender smile graced his lips, and his eyes sparkled with affection as he delicately brushed a stray lock of hair from your face—a gesture he had done countless times before. "My sweet Briar, I implore you to forgive me for deceiving you. I wished nothing more but to know you," he pleaded.

Oh, with how loud your heart was pounding in your chest, you realized that you were irrevocably and hopelessly ensnared in a love story that had deviated far from the original story.

But you didn't feel a single ounce of regret.

Masterlist

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[tinietaehyun]

Forsaken [XVI]

[Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader] [Series] [Finale - Chapter Sixteen]

Pairing: Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader

Genres: Fantasy, romance, fluff, angst, action, royal!au, supernatural, enemies to lovers.

Contains: Profanity, suggestive/mature themes, mentions of injury, punishment, death.

Links: Forsaken Masterlist || Masterlist

Summary: Thousands of adoring gazes peer up at you as you stand in your stone balcony. Your words leave your lips loudly as you make your grand speech. Blood rushes through your body in anticipation and nervousness. You were going to become the ruler of the Kingdom of Fortuna.

This was what you had worked so hard for. To earn your rightful place as the heir to the throne. You peer back behind you momentarily for reassurance. You spot the familiar billow of a black cloak and your gaze meets his sharp eyes which held nothing but admiration and pride. Taehyun smiles at you reassuringly.

You truly felt complete in this moment of time. All the hardship you faced, was completely worth it. You were honoured to become a monarch, but you were more so honoured to have such a man who you could call your own.

With shaky breaths you peer down as the golden, jewel-encrusted scepter and orb within your hands. The roar of the people fill your eardrums with a ferocity that you’ve never heard before. The kingdom of Fortuna had been through a lot of peril these last few months having lost their longtime monarchs, their prince, and their princess on the run. It was all finally settled, it is finally time for Fortuna to enter a new era, a new dynasty. An era in which your name would be the determining factor.

With a deep exhale, you finish the remnants of your speech, “With utmost resilience and honour, I shall uphold the rules and commandments set by my forebears, and exalt my nation, the land of innovation and sorcery, Fortuna, and thrust forth this land into one of prosperity and developments for all it’s people.” A mighty roar emits from the crowd below your balcony. The people from the kingdom have gathered in the courtyard, through the gates and beyond to witness the long-awaited coronation.

Well, that was the end of your rehearsed speech. Your treasurer smiles, “The scepter and orb, your majesty? You’re done?” You hesitate for a moment, you want to say something genuine to your people. You truly did fight long and hard for this position. “One moment, treasurer, I wish to speak a few more words.” He nods with a bow stepping back as you hand him the scepter and orb.

With a might bellow you call out, “Fortuna! Can you hear me?” A gargantuan sound of applause and cheer responds back to you sending chills down your body. “Louder!” You call out with glistening eyes and shaky hands; these were truly your people. The people who had their hopes and sights set on you to henceforth lead the kingdom. Your parent’s wishes could finally be honoured.

“I am honoured to be your Queen. Your ruling monarch. I will do my utmost best to ensure fairness and ensure prosperity for everyone in our nation. I ask that you look after me, take me in as not only a ruler, but a guardian, a caretaker. I wish to support you all, and become a ruler whose name you can speak with pride for ages to come.” A supreme cheer erupts at your words and your eyes water as you peer at the adoring eyes of the people below. You felt loved, adored, looked up to.

As the people are escorted out by the knights you peer around seeing a figure leaning against the stone wall with his arms crossed, dressed in pure black as usual. His cloak flaps elegantly in the breeze as his blonde hair strikingly grabs your attention against the grey background. His beautiful visage peers back at you; a smirk lining his rosy lips.

“Huh, well look at that. You did it,” Taehyun hums amused. You can’t help but grin like a fool rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him. A chuckle escapes his lips, “Where’s the woman who said she’d mess up her speech? What was that at the end? A little bit of improvisation even? Impressive, sweetheart.” You nuzzle into his chest, a content feeling blossoming in your chest. You really hoped the people resonated with your words.

“I suppose…when I saw all their faces, I just had to say something. Something meaningful, from my heart,” you murmur against his chest. He cups the back of your head with a smile, “It was sweet, sappy, but I suppose sweet.” You roll your eyes, “You liked it.” “Maybe,” he hums.

A moment of silence passes as you continue to hug each other, enveloped in each other’s warmth. “Mm, I’m hugging the Queen of Fortuna, what a rare occasion,” Taehyun muses. You peer up at him with a smirk, “You should be honoured, my dear sorcerer.” He corrects, “Royal Sorcerer, sweetheart. Get the designation right, will you?” You chuckle, “Oh my sincerest apologies.”

His hands slide to your waist, “Mm, have I told you how good this gown looks on you,” his eyes scan down your face, neck, to your neckline where it lingers ever so slightly before his eyes scan further down. Taehyun releases a pleasant hum, “Mm, a sight for sore eyes indeed.”

A warmth overtakes your cheeks as you huff, “Oh hush.” He muses, “As Queen, you’ll have to get used to much higher praise than that, my lady.” You groan, “Oh stop that, I’m still the same to you.” He teasingly smiles at you, peering down and meeting your gaze, “Is that so, your majesty?” You lightly smack his chest.

He nestles into your neck, his lips glide along the curve of your neck as he inhales your scent deeply. His fingers squeeze your waist and he murmurs, “To think I get to have the Queen of Fortuna all to myself, hm.” You wrap your arms around his neck and intertwine your fingers into the back of his hair, “Mhm, aren’t you lucky?”

“Very,” he hums against your neck, placing a quick peck against your skin. He resumes with another few fluttering kisses up your neck before his lips reach your ear, “Though, it amuses me that I’m the only one who can give orders to the Queen.”

You raise a brow, “How so?” Taehyun smirks his hand raising to your cheek as he caresses it with his thumb, “Mm? You don’t remember? I recall how well you followed orders last night.” Heat races up your neck and body as memories of last night, a few nights back and before-

A shiver runs through you; his hands over your body, around your neck, waist, hips, legs, leaving not an inch unexplored. Taehyun seemed to be passionate lover, that particularly in your chambers for the last two, three weeks. You still remember how cautious you two were with your first time, as though newly hatched ducklings exploring new territory.

Though… after getting the grip of things, it turns out Taehyun very quickly learnt what made your body tick and writhe. Fortunately, or unfortunately for you, his sinful touch was something you couldn’t get enough of.

His tongue wets his lips as he peers at you, “Hm, gone quiet? Thinking about anything, sweetheart?” You huff, “No; it’s far too improper to be speaking so crudely here after being coronated.”

Taehyun muses, “Oh is that so? Well, my sincerest apologies, your majesty,” he leans in with a wicked smile, “I’ll make it up to you later. Hm? Consider it my way of celebrating you becoming Queen.” You shiver and Taehyun can’t help but smirk.

“Your majesty! Royal Sorcerer! Please make your way to the dining hall, the other nobles await your presence for the feast,” a maidservant calls out and you nod with smile, “We’ll be right there.”

You take his hand enveloping his over yours, “Come let’s go, that feast won’t eat itself.” Taehyun grins, “Oh it won’t, but I will. I’m famished after hearing you talk on and on in that coronation speech of yours.”

You scoff, “That’s just how things are, it’s not my fault that it’s rather dull.” He shrugs, “Hm, maybe you should change things now that you have the power to.” You roll your eyes with an exasperated smile, “How insignificant of a qualm.”

With a grandiose feast and much chatter, the day passes with much happiness and festivities. Things were looking good for Fortuna. You still had many matters to attend to however, you need to appoint more members for the Royal Court. You need to get up to date with a few more things and modify a few things here and there.

“Your majesty, there’s a latecomer who insistent to see you,” a maid requests as you eat beside Taehyun. You question, “Now? Is it a noble? Surely it can wait until after the feast?”

The maid responds, “Someone by the name of Choi Soobin? He claims to know the two of you personally. He appears to be a sorcerer. He has travelled from Luna. He’s currently by the gates. Should we allow him in, your majesty?”

Taehyun’s eyes widen in utter shock along with yours. Soobin! Taehyun gets up with a clatter alerting the other nobles and he murmurs, “You continue eating, I’ll be back.” Before you could respond, he speeds off. You can’t help but shake your head and smile.

The young man awaits by the gates with a bored expression and a hint of regret. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. Too late, he had already come this far!

“Soobin! Soobin!” Taehyun calls out rushing towards him with glimmering eyes. Soobin is gobsmacked by Taehyun’s genuine smile; a stark contrast to that of his usual cold and icy demeanor.

“Taehyun, wow, I-“ Soobin stammers peering at Taehyun who seems to glow, wearing an ornate black cloak and clothes. He seemed healthier, and most importantly happier. “You…you look happier,” Soobin muses.

Taehyun hums composing himself immediately, “Ah well, that’s because I am. Y/n is finally coronated.” Soobin grins, “Indeed, I’d like to say my congratulations to her.”

Taehyun nods, “She’d be happy to see you. I..I’m surprised. Beomgyu outright refused the coronation invitation. I never thought I’d see you here, in Fortuna of all places.” Soobin smiles awkwardly, “Well you’re going to have to get used to seeing me around a lot more often.”

Taehyun freezes. More often? “Wait? More often? You mean…” Soobin nods with excitement brimming in his eyes. “You’re here to stay? In Fortuna?” Taehyun exclaims joyfully. Soobin muses, “Well, yes. I am. Is there room in the Sorcerer’s Tower for one more?”

Taehyun grins, “Oh well, if you pass the practical entrance exam sure.” Soobin scoffs, “Oh let me guess, who’s in charge of that.” Taehyun cockily hums, “Mm, I’ll make it easy, I promise. So what, you fucked over Beomgyu by leaving? Weren’t you his only sorcerer?” Taehyun snickers.

Soobin snorts, “Ah well, I guess you could say that. Since the both of you teleported out of there, he’s was completely enraged. Threw a whole tantrum for the first few days, took his anger out on the staff. He calmed down and he even started suspecting me of colluding with you both. I figured, I idolised him too much, and found out about his true colours when you both arrived there. I was in denial for quite a bit before making the decision to leave.”

Taehyun hums processing his words, “Surely he wouldn’t let you go so easily?” Soobin muses; “Oh, you’re right about that. He didn’t. So I did what a particular friend taught me by leaving a note with me.” Taehyun’s eyes widen in recollection; he had left a copy of the teleportation spell with Soobin.

Taehyun bursts out laughing, “You fucking teleported out of there? Oh, he must be going insane!” Soobin laughs, “Oh, believe me, he’s still reeling in from the moment he got y/n’s coronation invite.”

Taehyun shrugs, “She wanted to be polite, but I think it came off as petty, which is even funnier.” Soobin snickers, “Honestly it is. I feel free, it feels good to be back home. To see you.” Taehyun smiles, “It’s good to see you too. You made a good choice Soobin.”

“You think we can make up for the years of lost time?” Soobin asks. Taehyun muses, “Well, that depends if you pass the entrance exam. Then perhaps.” Soobin groans, “You’re ruthless, Taehyun.”

After a moment, Soobin speaks up, “About…Yeonjun…” Taehyun frowns, “Oh I’ve got a lot to say.”

“You mind filling me in?” Soobin murmurs. Taehyun hums, “Let’s get you something to eat first, and then I’ll tell you, alright?” Soobin nods, beginning to walk beside Taehyun into the palace.

With much commotion, you greet Soobin brightly and are overjoyed to hear he wishes to join the Sorcerer’s Tower. You all eat with much joy and festivity surrounding you as you catch and fill each other in.

“I’m just going to take Soobin up to the tower, alright?” Taehyun says as Soobin observes the two of you with a smirk. You nod with a gleaming smile seeing Taehyun’s glimmering eyes, “Sure. You look so cute when you’re happy like this, Taehyun.”

Soobin snorts as Taehyun scoffs slightly flustered, “I appreciate the compliment but perhaps in private, next time.”

Soobin dismissively waves and grins, “Ah, no, don’t pay me any attention, your majesty. He’s always been so welcoming to compliments and praise, but it’s intriguing to see him so suddenly shy. By all means continue.” Taehyun deadpans, “Very funny, huh.” Soobin shrugs, “Consider me a mere fly on the wall.”

Rolling his eyes, Taehyun bids you well as he escorts Soobin towards the tower and up the winding staircase. “Goodness, it’s been so long since I’ve climbed these stairs,” Soobin reminisces slightly out of breath.

Taehyun murmurs, “That’s exactly how I felt climbing up here again, after-after everything that’s happened.” Soobin frowns, “Must have been surreal for you.”

Taehyun nods with a melancholy expression, “It’s all my father’s hardwork, his legacy in this tower. How could it not be?” Soobin agrees, “Well, you’re back in your rightful place.”

“Oh yes, where’d I leave off at the table?” Taehyun questions, “Oh right, I just finished telling you all about me confronting Yeonjun in the throne room.”

“Yes, how deranged he was,” Soobin grimaces with a shudder. “Yes, well afterwards, he got treated by the healers and then promptly whisked into the dungeons below. He still awaits trial since the selection of new court members is going on at the moment,” Taehyun explains drearily as he pushes open the wooden door. Soobin’s eyes widen as he takes in his surroundings. Nostalgia slams into him as memories flash in his mind.

“Oh, we also rescued y/n’s personal knight and commander, Hueningkai. He was in terrible condition truly, Sehun did a number on him with the wardens and their whips. I felt bad, he…no one deserves such a punishment for staying loyal to the right person.” Soobin nods solemnly.

“Have you…spoken to him since then?” Soobin tentatively asks. Taehyun shakily hums as he takes a stool and sits down beside the desk. His eyes flicker to the famous spellbook - his father’s spellbook. It was finally within his possession, as it rightfully should be. A faint smile appears on his lips as he gazes upon it.

“I have. Two weeks after the incident occurred, I went down to the dungeons to see Yeonjun,” Taehyun finally responds. “I can’t imagine it went down well,” Soobin dryly muses, taking a seat beside him. Taehyun snorts, “Well it went better than expected, he didn’t lunge at me, which was better than what I had initially predicted. He seemed pretty dull, lifeless almost.”

“Well I would be too, if all my life’s work and effort got singlehandedly torn to shreds and ripped away from me,” Soobin muses. Taehyun shrugs, “Well it’s not my issue that he took such a tumultuous path.”

“What’d he say?” Soobin leans forward, curiosity brimming in his eyes. “Well…” Taehyun begins as he looks back on the bitter memory.

With begrudging steps, Taehyun walks down the grim hallway through the dungeons. The echo of his footsteps resound as he walks past the guards and a few other convicts. He remembers this place well, he was locked in here briefly with his father all those years ago.

He continues to walk forward and his breath hitches seeing a pale, unfortunately familiar face. His blonde locks sticking to his forehead from the humidity down here. Yeonjun had grown paler, weaker and had most noticeably lost weight. It pained him to see him like this; it was odd, most may think Taehyun would be happy to see such a person getting their well-deserved punishment. However the sight stung for Taehyun.

Yeonjun peers up, finally taking note of the sleek boots that stood outside the bars of his cell. His jaw clenches and his gaze darkens malevolently. “…tch,” escapes his lips bitterly. Taehyun steps forward and murmurs coldly, “Are you open to talking to me?”

“Do I have a choice?” Yeonjun spits harshly. Taehyun scoffs, “You do. If you don’t want me to, or if you’re going to ignore me, then I won’t waste my breath here.”

Yeonjun looks away with a bitter laugh, “It doesn’t matter. You’re here to boast your victory. I see you’re all dressed up, has the princess been spoiling you, Taehyun?”

Taehyun grits his teeth, becoming increasingly agitated by Yeonjun’s condescending speech. Even after he’s locked up, going to soon face a terrible trial, he has the nerve to be acting this way with no remorse!

“I am not here to boast, or declare victory. There’s nothing to be pleased about. I’ve lost someone who I called my best friend,” Taehyun mutters. Yeonjun laughs sharply, “Best friend? You lost him ages ago.”

The words sting Taehyun, “I know. But it feels like I’ve lost you again. I don’t even know who you are anymore. You’re so caught up in trying to become someone better, more powerful, superior.”

Yeonjun scoffs, “Power is the key to being respected. To be admired. No one can look down on you when you’re at the top.”

Taehyun snaps, “All because your father demeaned you? Are you excusing the fact that your father falsely accused mine of assassinating the King and Queen? That you knew everything that was happening? That we got exiled because of that? That your father, and then you, stole everything that he worked for?” Yeonjun icily glares at Taehyun who seethes. He nonchalantly murmurs, “You were lucky, they didn’t execute him.” Taehyun snarls gripping the bars of the cell door, “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Yeonjun’s lips curl into a feeble grin, “Still, I see your temper hasn’t changed, old friend.” Taehyun’s jaw clenches as he realises he’s succeeding in getting a rise out of him - a final attempt at asserting power over him.

Taehyun breathes, calming himself, “It didn’t have to be this way. None of this could have occurred, if we just talked things out. If you told me about what your father planned to do. You could…you could have been raised with me. I considered you like a brother. We’ve seen each other since we were children, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun remains silent peering away with a bitter remark, “As if. You were so self-absorbed. As if you cared what I was going through with my father. You’d have told me to tough it out, like everyone else. That he was merely trying to raise me to be an excellent sorcerer,” Yeonjun’s hands form fists as he shakily snaps, “How the fuck do you expect me to talk to you? When you were the sole cause for the way I was being treated? It’s always been you. Favoured by everyone. A prodigy, excelling in everything you do. Even my father wished I was more like you.”

Taehyun remains silent processing the words; a tense sadness permeates in his chest. Yeonjun had felt inferior for a long time, especially at such a vulnerable age. His father utilised that insecurity; bastard. Yeonjun runs his fingers through his hair agitated, “Do you know how fucking sickening it was to be constantly compared to you? To be told I’d be made your apprentice after you took over your father’s position. To practice a spell for hours, only for you to grasp it within half an hour or less.”

Yeonjun shifts glaring at Taehyun, “Everything about you, just fucking infuriated me.” The words cut deep into Taehyun as he stands blankly. Taehyun murmurs, “I… Yeonjun. I’m sorry, I’m sorry you had to go through all that. Admittedly at some moments, I enjoyed the rivalry we had, sometimes, I knew you were jealous. But I didn’t know the extent to which you were affected by it.”

Yeonjun sneers, “Of course you wouldn’t.” A sharp laugh escapes his dry lips, “Oh the look on your face when I started hanging out with Sehun. Oh, that day I realised how good it felt to see you yearn for me. To see you frown. To see you miserable, not me for once.” Taehyun reminisces bitterly, the terrible nostalgia filling his senses once more.

“I put up with that idiotic stuck-up piece of shit for years, built my reputation, my skill, my connections so carefully, all towards my final goal. A goal in which even my own fucking father would have to bow to me, all for you to ruin it. You always do. You always snatch everything away.”

Yeonjun snarls clambering at the bars startling Taehyun, “Why couldn’t you just let me have this one fucking thing? I wouldn’t rule as a tyrant. I’m not a fool, I would have maybe even had mercy and let you two run away together. If you had jusr let me have the damn crown.”

Taehyun processes his words and a smirk lines his lips, “Let us run away? I’m not a fool, Yeonjun. You’re paranoid. You’d have killed me and Y/n the moment we let our guards down. You always think I’m out for you when I’m not.” Yeonjun’s gaze darkens as his grip tightens around the bars, “Fuck you.”

Taehyun resolutely responds, “I feel like I’ve gotten to understand you better. You’re broken, as harsh as it is to say, your father really did a number on you. Regardless of your upbringing it does not excuse the murder of Y/n’s parents, Sehun, treatment of Hueningkai, the manipulation of the people of Fortuna. Especially my father’s exile. My exile. None of this is worth what you wanted, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun mutters darkly, “You’ll never get it.”

“Neither will you, Yeonjun, I can see that now,” Taehyun murmurs solemnly. He resumes, “I wanted to talk to you, to see how you were doing. If…If you felt anything, any guilt, remorse. Anything at all. A hint of wanting redemption.”

Yeonjun remains silent; Taehyun’s words echoing in his mind. “Even the moment we fought, I felt terrible about it. That I had to hurt you, your hand, I…I couldn’t sleep for a week. Despite all you’d done, I still felt guilty. I wished I could have done more for you, Yeonjun,” Taehyun says with a pained frown.

“I…I- it felt like my mind was searching for any fucking reason to forgive you; maybe give you another chance. But no, time and time again you made it worse. I had to stop you. Stop you before you hurt even more people, before you hurt yourself further.” Taehyun shakily grits out.

“Save your fucking pity,” Yeonjun seethes. Taehyun shakes his head sighing, “I wanted to forgive you, Yeonjun. Being the better person. But in this circumstance, I don’t think I can. You’re not deserving of the salvation that is being forgiven.”

Yeonjun slouches back; a hollow look in his eyes. His eyes held so many mixed emotions, none that Taehyun could clearly identify.

Taehyun steps back from the cell with a deep sigh and murmurs, “I think we’ve talked enough. It’s clear where we stand.” Yeonjun stiffens; a hint of plea and desperation now coating his features.

“We’ll next see each other at your hearing,” Taehyun coldly hums with a heavy heart that sinks as though it were an anchor. Taehyun turns to walk and begins to take a step before the clatter of the cell startles him. Yeonjun grips the bars once more with wide-eyes, his eyes watering, “Taehyun, wait!”

“Wait…” Yeonjun shakily yells, “You’re leaving already?” Taehyun hums, “What else is there to speak about? You’ve made your opinions and thoughts quite clear.”

Yeonjun’s eyes flicker, scrambling to say something, anything! “I…I do feel some regret. I- I didn’t want to admit it, I fucked up, I- was so hostile because-“

Taehyun faces him with a chilling smile catching onto his sudden ploy within seconds. “I know what you’re doing, Yeonjun.” He sighs, “It’s pitiful to see you like this. Changing your tune, in a moment of desperation. Your chance to have my sympathy is gone.”

The already dim light in Yeonjun’s eyes seems to now be extinguished completely, making them look lifeless. His hands slide down the bar pathetically as he gazes at Taehyun.

“You’ll be here for a long time. You can truly learn to feel remorse then. Not just for the sake of reducing your sentence or gaining my fervor at the last minute,” Taehyun murmurs.

With a final step, he swivels away and begins walking away from Yeonjun’s cell. Yeonjun silently watches Taehyun’s retreating figure. A new horrifying and ominous sense of the depravity of his actions and the consequences that are going to follow now setting into the crevices of his mind. It was well and truly over.

Taehyun even granted him one small kindness, yet he also foolishly threw it away. Perhaps, Yeonjun was more similar to his father than he cared to admit. Not that anything mattered anymore, his life would now be confined to the same four walls.

Truly, a fate worse than death.

Soobin sits beside Taehyun with an empty expression, “That’s…a lot to take in.” Taehyun shrugs, “I’m glad I did it though, even if it left me feeling restless for the first two days afterwards, it…it gave me the end I need, although sad but necessary.” Soobin nods in agreement, “Definitely. But still that’s a bitter way to go out.”

Taehyun hums dryly, “Unfortunately there’s always a price to pay.” The two sit peering outside the window; in a comfortable but solemn silence, mourning the loss of their friend. Alive still but not the same.

—————

Meanwhile, you yawn as your footsteps clatter against the sleek stone floor. Your back aches from the numerous curtsies, bows, greetings you’ve given today and your cheeks were relatively sore from smiling so much today. The crown on your head though rather heavy, feels oddly light on your head today.

Your eyes widen upon seeing a beloved familiar face. The brown haired male bows deeply with a playful smirk, “Good evening, your majesty.” You bashfully smile, “Oh hush with that nonsense, Kai.”

Hueningkai grins mischievous straightening up, “What? You are our new ruler, it’s only appropriate I treat you with utmost respect.” Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, yes. I’m aware. But you know we’ve never been a fan of maintaining etiquette around each other.” He smiles shaking his head, “Suppose not.”

“Finished your patrol? Your duties?” You ask gleaming. Kai nods; your eyes drift to the scar on his cheek; a last reminder of what he went through alongside the numerous unforgiving scars from the whipping on his back. You shudder; you still remember finding him barely conscious bleeding, wounds infected, starved and beaten. You had burst into tears upon the cruel sight.

“Yes, I have,” he gently smiles. He hums, “Would your majesty care for a stroll with her favourite knight? Or would you like to be escorted back to your chambers to rest from all this dreadful socialising?”

You chuckle; he knew you well. His eyes shimmer peering at you; a longing feeling in your heart as you think about your memories with him. How kindly, graciously he pushed his feelings down and let you go.

“I don’t mind a stroll,” you muse. With that, you both take a walk through the grand hallways of the palace beside each other in an initial comfortable silence. You truly missed moments like this. You were glad he was alive, happy and still by your side.

“Your precious lover won’t be too offended if he sees me by your side will he?” Kai hums amused. A giggle escapes your lips, “Ah, he may be a little annoyed but he’s far too cocky to be insecure. He knows we’re close friends. I noticed you two getting along quite well too, what’s all that about then? Gossiping about me?”

“Oh I was just telling him everything about you, your embarrassing moments, and-“ Kai begins and you scoff, “Oh you did not!”

He laughs, “Fine, fine. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. To be honest when I initially met him, he was a little cold. I wondered how you grew to like being around such a man, but he spoke respectfully to me. He didn’t sugarcoat anything and kept it blunt. I liked it. He asked me fully whether I still had feelings for you.”

Your eyes widen. Ah, so the two men aired their queries towards each other. “Well?” Kai flushes slightly, “Well, honestly there’s tiny lingering pieces, but the more I’ve seen the two of you these few weeks. It’s really settled in. Seeing you so happy with him. It…it makes me happy to see you that way. You have a specific glow around him, if that makes sense.” Your heart races, you did?

“The look in your eyes, the way you talk to him, flutter around him, even the way he communicates with you in contrast to others. It’s clear, you two are incredibly in love with each other.” Hueningkai describes it with a bright smile.

He resumes, “It’s rather endearing. It didn’t…hurt as much as I expected it to. I suppose I had time to reflect on such emotions whilst I was back in the dungeons, after leaving you back in Luna.”

You give him a genuine smile, “I couldn’t have asked for a better companion and protector like you. Thank you, Kai.” He snorts, “For what? My goal is to see you happy, your majesty.” You hum, “I’ll personally see to it, that your goals and future wishes are all fulfilled to the brim.” He grins at you, “I’ll hold you to it.”

Both of you continue to chatter and laugh whilst walking beside each other like old times. It felt good and you truly felt content with life.

The evening passes by with the palace ruckus morphing into a comfortable and familiar sense of quietness as the staff and maids slowly begin retiring from their duties.

A long groan escapes your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth of Taehyun’s bare chest. Your fingertips trace down his shoulder to his chest delicately drawing random designs. “Comfortable?” He muses dryly. “Very,” you huff contently as you feel his strong arm slide around your waist.

“Here I thought I was going to reward you tonight, but it seems we are both exhausted,” Taehyun snickers. You sigh, “Indeed today was both physically and socially tiring. My face hurts from smiling so much.” Taehyun peers at you with an endearing expression, “Mm, I suppose you nobles always have to keep up appearances.” You hum fatigued, “Even in front of people we despise, how grueling.”

Taehyun muses satirically, “Truly, what a terrible set of circumstances. Mm, the nobles were certainly a handful. I still don’t like the barons and chancellors.”

You grin, “Whenever have you ever liked any noble I’ve introduced you to, thus far?” He shrugs, “Fair point, I just don’t like nobility or royalty in general.” You raise a brow and he coos, “Except you, of course, sweetheart,” he sarcastically drawls, “How could I ever forget you?”

You give him a light, playful smack on his bicep and he chuckles. “Truly though, you are the only tolerable noble. I cannot stand their stuck up and pretentiously obnoxious attitudes.” You hum drearily, “Mm, well you’re going to have to get used to such things whilst here. Unless you prefer to hide yourself away in the confines of the Sorcerer’s Tower.”

He muses, “Oh never, sweetheart.” You both shift lightly; with you facing him. Your eyes meet and you can’t help but smile softly at him. His disheveled locks and intense gaze. You move some strands out of the way and he suddenly grabs your hand, bringing it towards his lips. Taehyun kisses your inner wrist delicately sending a shiver up your arm and down your spine. It was an intimate but sweet gesture.

“I always think at the end of the day, what if none of this occurred. Would I have still crossed paths with you? If I wasn’t exiled and still remained in the palace and became the royal sorcerer, would you have paid me any attention?” He questions. You playfully murmur, “Oh, probably not. I never went to the Sorcerer’s Tower, I’d have probably not even recognised you.”

Taehyun rolls his eyes, “Oh how lovely.” You hum, “I merely jest, Taehyun. Well, perhaps, if fate meant for our paths to cross this time, I don’t see why we were not fated to cross if you were still in Fortuna’s palace.” Your eyes glance over his face, “After all, who could pass by such a handsome sorcerer…”

Taehyun's lips quirk up into a smirk, “You’ve got that right indeed. Handsome, strong…” His lips briefly gaze at your parted lips. You continue, “…intelligent, powerful…” he resumes, “…determined and ever so passionate,” his lips near yours.

“Mm, and you. No list in the world could be long enough to describe your attributes,” he utters, his voice just above a whisper. You press your lips to his softly. Your lips move against his in an alluring rhythm, a rhythm you often both found comfort in.

Your hand slides up his neck and your fingers run through the locks on the back of his hair. Both your legs interlock as you press yourselves against each other as close as possible. His own hands skim against the thin fabric of your nightgown trailing up and down as you kiss.

Parting for breath, you breathlessly utter, “I love you,” he smiles as he repeats the words back, “I love you too, sweetheart,” before returning his lips back onto yours sweetly.

You both lay in each other’s arms contently; his thumb draws circles on your waist and he murmurs, “Haven't your council been pestering you to get engaged? What was it again- oh yes, ‘to assert your right and maintain your stronghold over your position as queen by showing that you plan to have an heir in the near future.’”

You scoff, “Oh yes, yes. Their silly little concerns.” Taehyun hums, “What, finding their idea silly or are you not interested in getting engaged, or to say, betrothed? We are already courting are we not?” You stiffen, is he implying what you think he’s implying?

Taehyun muses with a subtle smirk, “Well, let me know when their silly little concerns begin to concern you.” Your eyes widen snapping to meet his, “Taehyun.”

“Y/n,” he echoes amused. You gawk at his insinuation, feeling your heart race.

“Not now, I personally wish to feel more settled and take some time to get more acquainted with things. As do you with your new duties and responsibilities. But in the near future…” he alludes.

“For now, I am content to court regardless of whatever scandalous thoughts the nobles may have,” Taehyun muses. You smile feeling flustered; you both of course had the intention to marry soon - well, you definitely had to as a ruler. But it gave you much needed comfort that he was just as eager to go through with such a big step as you were.

His fingers interlock with yours, “Are you okay, sweetheart? Didn’t startle you into shock did I?” You gaze lovingly at Taehyun as you respond and lay your head against his chest, “I’ve never been better.”

With a final smirk (that you’ve grown to adore ever so much), he peers at the candles around the room and with a snap of his fingers, the flames extinguish allowing for the blanket of sleep to overtake you both.

“Goodnight, Taehyun.”

He presses his lips against your forehead, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

- END. -

|| Thanks everyone for the support on this series truly! <3 It feels great to be able to end it on a such sweet note. As always keep an eye out for more on the way from tinietaehyun!

Taglist: [closed]

@royallyjjk @wolfytae-exe @rencarnationofangel @sirenla @matcha-binz @beomies-world @michinri @parkweylyn @kvshzj @hanniehaeeeeeee1004 @elara828 @wonioml @onima-chan @moonekth @glossykai @jjunielvrs @beargyuuzz @cathyun @hanstarrs @m3chigo @vanicogh @baekberrie @nap-of-a-starr @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @sunpov

[thesharktanksdriver]

The wanderers tale of Chang’e and Houyi (romantic)

This isn’t canon to these part 1 and part 2

This is a what if scenario, and I might write some more for different characters. None for the Greek pantheon tho for obvious reasons

This was a lot of fun to write, sorry if Qin is out of character but he is fucking whipped in love. Man is literally on his knees

tried adding some historical stuff in this but i'm not the most knowledgable on Chinese history or myth so please take it with grain of salt

For much of his life the concept of love is foreign to Qin let alone that of the romantic kind

Sure, he saw displays of it in small ways on the streets

A couple linking hands or exchanging kisses behind the cover of fans in the midnight hour

But he never thought he’d experience it

For he was hated by everyone including himself for the sins of of his family

For the deaths they caused that now transferred to him by the blood in his veins

It is cruel but for the longest time he accepted he’d never be given love of any kind until Chun Yan showed him he was worthy of it

It is through her he learns familial love

Not romantic love of any sorts but a type of love that leads him to discover and be curious of the other forms of love later on in his life

When he becomes empowered he explores this concept as times goes on

Lust and desire

But never actual connection

Not the love he’d hear in tales or see between young lovers

No, He’d yet to still experience that actual form of romantic connection formed through genuine intimacy

But for awhile he was fine with that

Perhaps even grateful he had not been subjected to such an intense feeling

Something that could bring down entire empires and could shatter men’s spirits like sticks to a boot

And for a long time it remains that way

Until the 3rd year of your friendship with him as his personal historian

It’s hardly something he notices at first

Just the small feeling of wanting to be near you more often than he already was

It was strange but be brushed it off for a long while

Perhaps it was him just missing your presence due to the two faced courtesans he had to deal with on a daily basis

No one was quite as truthful or real as you were

You never had stray intentions with him

Just treating him as a real person

Still respectful but not overly so

It’s a slow process for him

One built on denial and confusion as he tries in his mind to write off his behaviour

He’d never felt this type of love before

It’s foreign and slightly scary to him for several reasons

One of which is cause he’s afraid of loss

The death of Chun Yun had…hurt him a lot

Left himself a shattered visage to be rebuilt into a strong facade

For not only himself but also his people

It is something done due to his duty

A responsibility placed on his shoulders

He takes being a king seriously but in the process he loses a bit of himself

With you though he makes the choice to spend time with you

Listen

Indulge

Talk

When he’s with you warmth blossoms in his chest like a flower in full bloom

Petals opening to reveal something beautiful yet tender

It feels…nice

He feels for once vulnerable

And it’s nice yet scary

But with time he eases into it

Gently placing his heart in your hands

It beats like a drum in your presence much to his pride

But at the same time. He enjoys the sensation

The fact that you make him feel so flustered

It’s honestly amazing that such small acts such as your smile can make the emperor feel light on his feet

He once laughed at the tall tales of men foolishly in love

Now he is that fool

The ones who’d offer the moon and hang the stars in their beloveds name

Chun Yun once talked of love once, hoping he’d one day experience that beautiful emotion

He now understood as to why she spoke so highly of it

But as he finally admits to himself that he’s fallen deeply head first into this endless void

You reveal you must leave soon

Unknown to you his heart cracks

In the months ticking down to your departure he spends as much time with you as he can

He feels now that he’d taken your presence for granted

A luxury that he assumed would stay despite knowing you were a free bird

One who would not stay east forever and eventually travel somewhere else

He feels desperate though

Grasping at strings to reach out and convince you to stay

Pleading with every interaction for you stay

To please stay

in time he realizes it’s a fruitless endeavour

Yet he tries anyways

Because that’s the only thing he can do

Yet he can’t admit his feelings

Especially now that your leaving

Maybe confessing would get you to stay but it feels cruel, a way to guilt you into become a caged bird

Love should not be bound in shackles or a gilded cage

It is free

And he would never take that away from you

So he tries to convince you with deals

With time dwindling down he tries to inch closer

A hand almost touching your own

Eyes staring with lidded looks beneath their gaze

It’s not direct, perhaps the only time the emperor isn’t

He feels himself clam up at the last minute

It’s unbefitting of him but it’s Ying Zheng peaking through the cracks and taking the reigns of his heart

The young boy from the streets who only wanted love

Who’s scared of ruining what’s more than enough for that fragile heart

It’s pathetic that he’s battling with himself over this

A back and forth between two voices in his mind of his head and heart

Yet it endures as the days whittle down

During this time he becomes interested in tales of love

Specifically that of Houyi and Chang’e

A love bound for tragedy

A simple mortal man in love with someone divine

Requited yet torn apart

Yet despite it all he still loves her and still still mourns and waits

In some sense he hopes for something like this

But for now he resonates with the story

So much so he decided to incorporate the story into a parting gift for you

A bracket

One that is beautifully crafted with his finest stones

Intricately crafted to last

One that is made to pair with his own

It’s a sign that you will forever be the emperors closest friend

But also with the double meaning of a reference to Chang’e

To him you are his Chang’e, his love who shall never age and has to leave despite how much he pleads

And he is Houyi, who can only watch and do nothing but shed tears as you go

As you leave on your stead and ponders if this was the worst pain imaginable

Having you gone is a change of pace that leaves him uneven

There are no more talks of travel

Of warrior’s and battles from far off lands

A new courtesan takes your place but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth

He wonders if your alright

If your ok

You once talked of a loneliness of being immortal

Seeing those you loved dear die from the passage of time

It’s natural yet it hurts

The loss of Chun Yun was one of the worst pains in his life, but knowing you’d always outlive those you’d grown close to must be hell

He doesn’t want to put you though than once more if he can do something to stop it

He anything but a simple man

And he begins trying to at least look for a solution

It is a neigh impossible task but he tries

And tries

And tries

And years tick onwards

When he lays awaken in silk sheets alone at night he stares at the moon

Taking another mercury pill as he stares at the silvers rays of light

A part of him knows that the pills aren’t his ticket to immortality

But he pushes himself to try anyways

Cause he is so desperate to become immortal for you

So he can be by your side without fear of hurting you in the end by dying

If it came down to it he’d leave everything he’s built till now for it

His empire could be transferred to someone else and he’d be completely fine with it

He’d be fine going back to a simple life

Perhaps he’d even prefer it over all the frugality of court life

And it would all be because of you

Beautiful and kind you who had shown him true love

Not fake nor manufactured to manipulate him to certain ideals or sides

Just true and pure love that formed through meaningful conversations and a beautiful friendship

So he swallows down the silver liquid

Ignoring the taste and how he feels his sanity slipping each time he take yet another

Though he bares heirs in the form of sons he never takes an empress or official partner

For in his heart that place is forever filled by you

And as he lays dying as he tours his beautiful land

The land in which you traversed and loved oh so dearly

He can’t help but smile as his tells his guards to let you in

They cast you glances of curiosity that he straightens out with his glare

He asks for privacy and they comply

Leaving you and him alone yet again like those nights long past where you and him would talk

He raises a hand to caress your face

“I think this is my end, I feel myself slipping every moment”

There is no sadness in his voice, just a chuckle as he gazed up at your beautiful face highlighted by glistening tears

They remind him of diamonds or the morning-dew

“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit sooner-“

“Shhh, it’s alright. What matters is now”

At that you have a small smile that makes his heart beat faster than it had in months

For a long while now he knew he was on the brink of death but still pretended (even to himself) that he’d be fine

He was emperor

The king of kings

But now as he lay in his death bed, Alone with the one person who seen him as he is

He was no longer king, he was Ying Zheng

Someone who was utterly human

A man in pursuit of that horridly consuming emotion of love

Requited or not he didn’t care

All that did matter was that he try, try to make you happy

To ease your emotions of utterly loneliness at loosing almost everyone you come to care for

You don’t curse death but he does in your place

How can he not when he shall never see your face again in the afterlife

You may have accepted death as a natural part of life

That it’s alright you will never see your friends again

But he thinks it’s cruel

A awful fate for someone as radiant as yourself

You seem to see his thoughts and silences them with a smile as a gentle hand cradles his face

All this thoughts of cursing death pause

And he focuses on you

The gentle curve of your face that was shaped with skilled hands

Those tear lined eyes that outshine any jewel in his treasury

A smile that outshined the very sun in the sky

Skin softer than the best silk robes he wears as he awaits death

The harsh cold ranking his body fades away and all he feels is warmth

A warm numbness taking over

You say something but he can’t hear it

He says so in a soft voice that comes out as a whisper

You nod

He’s fading by the moment

A part of him has accepted this fate but the other still fights

Still wishes and begs to just push further

Immortality could still be possible

But as you lean closer that voice quieted down

Both did

All he focused on was you giving him something he had wanted for years

Lips connect and he feels a jolt of many emotions

Joy

Sadness

Relief

And Peace

He swears he sees purple sparks flutter around you like petals of soft flowers

This was your goodbye to him

A kiss of goodbye

A kiss of reciprocated feelings between one another

A kiss of star crossed lovers bound to a fate of their love never working

And a kiss of death

“I hope I have a next life where we may meet again so you don’t have to be alone once more”

After so long of the afterlife and it’s pleasant buzz of apathy he’s suddenly confused when he wakes up

Well more like being woken up by yelling and the sound of breaking things as other men around him look just as disoriented and confused as he was

But then a woman appears, one dressed in white with a otherworldly aura

The look in her eyes is determined and simultaneously baring the weight of the world in them

He gets up from laying down in his casket, silken robes swaying as his feet touch the marble ground

He’s alive once more and somehow younger

In his prime again

In that moment he’s tempted to just leave the room and head out to find you once more but waits

He suspects The ethereal woman standing unafraid in front of him and the various other men who seemed to be warriors is the reason behind this

And has a reason as to why she chose very specific people to seemingly bring back from the dead

And not long after he learns that reason

“The gods want to wipe out humanity. I chose you all to participate in Ragnarok, a battle of 13 chosen contestants against the gods to the death. the determiner of humanity’s fate”

Ah, now that makes sense

But then why did she say 13?

There are 12 fighters here and she doesn’t seem as if she’ll be participating

She seems to most likely be the player in this game

Their her pieces to lead into battle so-

Suddenly his eyes dart to the doors across the room

They open and he watches as a familiar person enters

One who’s face was forever ingrained in his mind from restless nights left awake

Someone with the same smile as the day he first had a real conversation with them

It’s you

Before anyone could react he’s already across the room

Silk robes fluttering in the air as he darts past other warriors of different times eras

You have the same beautiful smile on your face

Arms already open wide as the first emperor crashes into your form

Arms wrapped tightly around you as if you’d disappear if he let go

Words in his mother tongue that was now a dead language fall from his mouth

Hushed rambles unbefitting of a king yet he doesn’t give a fuck

Why should he when your here

He was no king in your presence

For he was just a man with his heart on a platter, handing it to your gentle but weathered hands

It would not matter if you crushed it or treasured it

Only that you accept it

The room is completely quiet as you respond back in the same tongue

Almost as if you’d spoken it everyday and not in literal centuries

he holds back tears that will be saved for later when he had an actual private moment with you

With some hesitation he pulls back

Still feeling as if you’d disappear like sand between his fingers if he let go

But when he does he’s simply met once more with your smiling face

It shines radiantly like the sun, moon and stars

You were his sun, moon and stars

“We have a lot to catch up on Qin”

“Yes we do beloved”

“Beloved? Heh, I wish you had called me that much sooner than years after your death”

“I have some time to make up for that don’t I?”

“Not much…but it should be enough for me. I’ve missed you”

“As did I”

Safe to say after a bit of an explanation from the Valkyrie who introduced herself as Brunhilde the other warriors as hounding him for answers

Particularly cause many of them were apparently some past friends of yours

Some before and after his death

It’s interesting meeting the many he heard about in person

But what’s more is the ones that came after him

The fact that you’d apparently mention him

Or someone close to his description who was very dear to you

It’s odd hearing about his legacy but from your words

They spoke of his character and didn’t focus on the achievements

Highlighted the fact he was a human

A man just like any other who had risen from poverty to power

His misdeeds but also a reason as to why such decisions were made

A balanced perspective

Not like he’d except anything else from you

A true historian through and through

Much had changed throughout the years

The world was completely different from his time, as was his empire

It’s to be expected though and he enjoys learning all that had changed

In the quiet moments you talk he finds himself content

Sure, he’s supposed to be facing a god soon who has a good chance of killing him

But at the moment it doesn’t matter

There’s still time before the matches begin

Still town to train with not only his fellow contestants but also you

Something he particularly was excited about since he’d never seen you seriously fight

Well until now

Your true immortality come full purpose

Wound after wound being instantly healed with a few sparks of purple lightning fizzing around your form

Loud strikes echoing in the training grounds as he watches from afar

Gods he feels weak at the sight of your battle determined face

Violet lightning making your form look even more powerful

A few warriors like Lü Bu and Raiden tease him for being whipped for you

But the others seem to enjoy how this prideful king does a 180 the moment your around

It’s fun and nice

Though they had not known him for long they get the sense he’s a guarded man

Someone who had been hurt and vowed to not show that vulnerability once more

But it seems you had changed that

Breaking through that wall around his heart to let his true self deep through the cracks

While alone with you it’s a calm but joyful experience

You lay in his lap, head readying against his thighs covered in soft silky material

You say he doesn’t have to do so, but he insists

Despite loving in indulging in luxuries it seemingly switched when you were around

Him wanting to instead indulge you in the greatest he could offer

You don’t need it but its nice being cared for

Gently held by warm hands that help the tenseness in your shoulders or plays with your hair

once in his presence you allow yourself to enjoy in this indulgence

Small protests going away as soon as you laid down on hundreds of cushions as he worked his metaphorical magic

Conversations here go beyond what had just changed

Often reminiscing of old court life and what you had done or seen over the years

The people you’d met

The places you’d wished you could have taken him to

Outside of his room is an arena where the weight of the world weighs on both your shoulders

But in here it’s just you both catching up on lost time

Affectionately in each others embrace

Old and new nicknames falling from each others lips

Flowery language long abandoned by the world in a dead language brought back

A love not meant to be now brought back from the ashes like a Phoenix

Sometimes he thinks this is a dream he’ll wake up from

Being cruelly ripped from your loving arms and back into that of deaths cold embrace

But as you kiss comforts into his ears the thought melts away

He was in heaven

This was something he’d fight for

A mere mortal like him in the arms of something Divine

Something that would be frowned upon yet neither of you cared

Not when you’d both awaited to reunite despite fate saying naught

“You make me feel alive…human even”

“Who’s to say you aren’t human in the first place?”

“I’m a soulless being, one made of artificial flesh and lightning coursing through my veins. I’d say I’m hardly human”

“Your the most beautiful thing ever created ”

Your father contrary to Qin’s initial beliefs is practically radiating joy when he meets the former king

Hephaestus is jolly, giving a firm handshake despite being a god

It’s a bit jarring at first

But in a good way

It’s no wonder you become the person you are today, especially with such a gruff yet gentle man that had made you with his bare hands

Smouldering smoke wafts up from the man’s singed beard

Embers glowing softly when you embrace him with the same kindness he exudes

He smells of the forge, metal, sweat, ash and fire

It’s a deep contrast to your more earthy toned one

Something that spoke of adventure and travel

Yet despite the glaring differences your both much alike

A father and his child

Different yet more alike than what meets the eyes

Talk with Hephaestus is easy

Eager to hear of how you both met or ramble about his inventions

The way he seems so genuinely engaged with any type of small conversation makes Qin think of himself as a kid

Someone who everyone looked down upon and never gave the light of day

A begging soul pleading for someone to listen

He feels an knot of rage and pain wind up in his soul

This god was caring, more caring than many of the people he encountered in his life

A man who loved his work

His home

His craft

Yet no one listened

No one cared

No one accept his child and now the human contestants of this arena

The two form a deep friendship

Something formed through similar hardships

A kinship made through the unspoken words of “I get it” and “your not alone”

It makes you happy your father found a friend in the one you hold dearest to your heart

As does Qin who becomes more sympathetic as to why Hephaestus was so happy for you finding love in the first place

A marriage that was unhappy from the start

Trying to make the best of it anyways

Continued sorrow

Heartbreak

Betrayal from a brother

Wanting some type of love from anyone

Qin swears to himself if he’d ever encounter those who had made this man’s life hell he’d put them through the same

No one gets away with hurting someone important to the Emperor

Especially not family

“Treat them right and don’t break their heart boy. That’s all I ask of you.”

“You don’t need to say it twice. You have my word as Emperor”

“Heh, I like you. How about we talk business later, I’d hate to see you break that second requirement due to this whole fiasco”

The 7th round steadily approaches much to your anxiety

It’s noticeable to him how scared you are for him

The other can’t tell but he’s been around you enough to know your quirks

The slight tapping of your finger

Small bursts of violet sparks

The way your eyes seem more cloudy

He does his best to show you not to worry

That he’s strong enough to up against whoever is pitted against him

He spars with Kojiro and even is able to get Buddha to give some extra pointers to ease your mind

It doesn’t do much though

He can’t exactly blame you, once before you saw him die peacefully

But now there’s a chance you’ll see it again in a violent manner

He could already imagine how hard that first death was for you

The second would be devastating

Seeing those tear stained eyes was enough for him to promise himself he’d win no matter the Cost

He’d discard an arm or leg if he had to

But he had to win for you

For humanity that you love with a whole heart

This world was worth protecting

With a sigh he reclines back in the red cushioned throne

Soon he’d be out in that arena

Life or death

This VIP section was nice except for the nosey people already there

Though he wondered where you were, you said you’d meet him here?

Maybe you got lost..,he remembers the time you ended up in a different castle by accident

The memory makes him smile

Even as he’s flipping the man who grabbed him into the ground like he’s nothing

These guys need to humble themselves

Their in the presence of an emperor

The king of kings

Despite saying this aloud the big guy doesn’t get the picture

He blabbers on about being a god before Qin once again flips the man onto the stone ground

The other man though seems amused and offers a drink

One that he kindly accepts as he is about to question if the messenger of the gods can find you-

Turns out this “wasn’t” his room

Something of which you gently tell him with a laugh

Brunhilde looked less amused as you did

As did Ares

But Hermes found it seemingly hilarious

Especially since everyone else in the room can’t help but deadpan as he pulls you into the seat with him

Holding you close as you sigh with a small grin and accept his affection

It is a small moment of comfort

One that both of you know wont last forever

Or wont be guaranteed in the future

Despite that he is confident as ever

Something that makes you want to simultaneously bash your head into a wall about and smile at his unwavering spirit

The emperor’s after him roll out a carpet for him to walk down

But before that he pulls you aside

“Don’t die on me again….” The words are choked up in your throat but your able to get them out after a moment “please Qin, I love you too much to loose you again”

“Have some faith in me. I’m an emperor, king of kings, and you’re my divine being. You have me your blessing of love, that enough will get me through this” the tone in which he says this is both confident and gentle. He kneels down, pressing his lip’s against your knuckles. It leaves the onlooking pair of gods and Valkyrie’s agape.

He gets up, standing on the balcony to jump down towards his carpeted walkway. But just before he can you pull him down and press a passionate kiss against his lips. The crowd goes wild in both confusion and shock. “Call this an extra blessing” at that comment he smiles.

You turn to leave the god area with the two Valkyrie sisters, but not before turning to the two gods. “Sorry for the trouble. I can definitely say though that I won’t be pulling something like that for my round” as you say this you look over your shoulder, surveying their reactions. Ares is shock, Hermes like before is amusement and curiosity. You were a contestant, how interesting.

The fight is long and arduous

Armour enchanted and enchanted by both Hephaestus and his Völunder

Hephaestus couldn’t do too much in case of suspicion but he did make it a bit more durable and light

He’s bloodied and bruised

An arm was lost

But despite it all he won

He won for humanity

Won for you

And somehow in the process won the respect of the god he was faced against

Hades, king of the underworld

The only other man he’d call a king, for he in this fight had truly showed he earned that title

Both went into this battle for someone

But he prevailed in the end cause you were still there to fight for

This wasn’t a fight for revenge like Hades gad set out to do

His fight was to sustain you and the rest of the world

To keep you safe and happy

Preserve the world you loved despite its flaws

Qin Shi Haung for a portion of his life had nothing

But now that he had the love of someone he would do his best to keep it intact

To forever keep a smile on your face to keep his sun in the sky

Despite how much he’s in pain from both his injuries and his Mirror Touch Synesthesia he gives his respect to Hades

His foe

His equal as a king

His friend

Alvitr is screaming in his mind to get to the medbay already but he waits a moment as the dust settles

Both sides after cheering from humans and shock from gods quiets down

Alvitr appears at his side just as injured as he is

She almost tumbles to the ground

Before he can catch her someone jumps out from the stands beside Chun Yan and her son

A kasa hat with a veil trailing behind it fluttering in the wind as the warrior wearing it rushes towards the two

It happens within a split second but your at their sides

Grabbing the two inured winners

“Careful, you won and can’t just go dying on me after all that”

He chuckles at that, leaning into your touch as Alvitr gives a small tired thanks

You smile, your own thank you falling from your lips for protecting him

For making sure he got out of this alive

“Don’t attribute that to me. The entire time this prideful king had someone on his mind” she says this in a cheeky tone as you carry them both back to the medbay

A certain pep in your step

The crowd of both sides watches on with curiosity

In the medbay as they both are put into pods you await by their sides

Watching patiently

A hand against the glass encasing him

Your dad was already at work on a prosthetic for both of them

Something you were grateful for

You think back to the fight

It leaves…and unknown taste in your mouth that’s bitter and sweet

Qin had won

But in the process Hades was dead

You didn’t know your “family” well except for the snippets your father told you

Almost all were bad

All used him for their own goals or belittled him for his appearance

But from what you removed Hades was one who was seemingly neutral

Perhaps even somewhat kind to your father

Thanking him for his work done

Glaring at opposers who insulted him

In that sense he earned your respect

But with the battle you saw more if his character

Poseidon you couldn’t care less about but with Hades you felt more conflicted

Sighing you lean back resting yourself against the pod

There’s silence and then you hear something

Looking down you see his eyes cracked slightly open

His now only remaining hand pressing against the glass just like your own

His eyes close once more and you keep your hand atop his own

A pane of glass separating the two of you

Despite not needing sleep you close your eyes

Resting against the glass

Eventually you feel something draped over your shoulders

Turning your head you see Chun Yun and her son

Both with worried expressions but also happiness

His hand pressed against the glass trying to reach to yours is prof enough he’s still fighting

Fighting for you

And your waiting here for him

The woman who became his mother figure and her son pull up seats near your own

You feel a smile cross your face

“I’d wait till the end of time for you to wake up. Take as long as you need, I’ll be there when you wake”

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Short Prompt # 8

TW: Blood, violence, knife, threats, death mention, bruises

Hero's fist collides harshly with Villain's cheekbone, lining it with deep purple bruises. They slam them into the building behind them, the force of the impact enough to draw a sharp gasp out of the villain's throat and to let a smirk dance across the hero's visage.

The criminal doesn't relent; however, aiming a kick to the crime-fighter's shins that missed only very narrowly. A hissed curse escapes their lips as the crime-stopper punches their nose, drawing blood.

They press the glinting blade of a knife to Villain's neck, kicking their legs back so that they are flush against the wall, still trying their hardest to escape, movement incredibly limited by their adversary's weapon against their carotid artery.

"Look at you still fighting. You're beautiful," the hero croons, voice soft enough, but with a promise of danger lacing it, sending a shiver up the villain's spine.

"I'm covered in blood and dirt. All your doing," they snap, trying to keep their composure, still refusing to cave in.

"Mhm, and yet you still shine like the stars." They tilt their enemy's chin up with a gloved hand, staring straight into their eyes, leaning with their weight against the wall, posture relaxed enough to be downright lazy. It makes them look like a damned fool, though they are anything but.

"What do you want?" Villain hisses, trying to keep the breathlessness out of their voice. They're terrified of whatever the hero's answer might be, if they were casually threatening to slit their throat like it was nothing.

"Two things, dove. A bit of information only you can find, and I want you to be my partner at an event that requires one to avoid suspicion. A fake date, if you will."

The villain arches a questioning brow. "The information, I can understand. But why do you want me to be your supposed 'date'?"

"Well," the hero replies listlessly, "for one thing, you look the part. You're striking enough covered in grime and bruises. I think you'd clean up nicely, doll."

Their tone was offhand, maybe even a little flippant, like they didn't care much if Villain was flattered or not. Like stating a fact. And the criminal doesn't know why that leaves an irritating tightness in their chest, why it makes them bite their lip till it drew blood.

"That's not the only reason."

At that, Hero gives them a soft chuckle. "Correct. Clever. It's because you're oh so good at playing make-believe. You've hidden your fear of me so efficiently, wrapped it up beautifully. I'd eat it up, you know, if I couldn't feel your pulse hammering like that. My targets are not so astute, thankfully. So, they'd buy into your pretences pretty easily."

"Right. And what makes you think I'd stay loyal? I have to agree with a bloody knife pressed to my neck, anyway," they counter, meeting the hero's eyes, gaze sharp and ablaze with an eternally raging fire.

"I was just trying to catch you off-guard. Killing you would be such a waste. And you're right, I want you to be loyal. So, I'm not forcing you to do this, but if you do agree, you'll do it well. Though, I'm not willing to take a giant leap of faith. You should know not to even think about betraying me, sweetness." They press the knife just a little deeper, letting a thin stripe of crimson snake down their nemesis's neck. Featherlight. Teasing.

"You're a hero. You wouldn't," they choke out, breath growing shallower.

Hero laughs. Genuine and musical, ringing against Villain's eardrums. "I didn't think it was in a villain's attitude to depend on a hero's better nature. You don't believe in such 'fantasies'. That's what you told me, dear," they purr lazily, letting the gloved fingers of their free hand tuck a stray curl of the villain's ruddy locks behind their ear.

"And besides," the crime-fighter continues, "you're not doing this for free. I can be a little distracted from your criminal activities, and I'll keep the other villains out of your way."

"Isn't that illegal?" Villain's eyes widen, and the muscles of their face work to form a somewhat disbelieving expression.

"It's for the greater good. A worthy sacrifice," Hero shrugs.

"Alright. I accept."

The hero flashes them a radiant grin, lowering their weapon. "Perfect."

"Let's get you fixed up." Hero wraps an arm around Villain's waist, pressing them close against their side.

At the startled expression on the criminal's face, the crime-stopper smirks almost cruelly. "If we're going to sell this lie to other people, you're going to have to get used to this, love."

The evil-doer nods sharply.

It is almost like jumping into a garden of roses set ablaze by ruthless flames. Where the sweet, intoxicating scent of the nectar mixes in with the dark smoke, to produce something as wondrously alluring as magic but as deadly as a merciless poison.

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[thenextchapterbegins]

The Magnum Opus: I̵̼̟̺̱̐̉͐̿͒͝ͅt̸̡̘͇̹̙̙͖͂̈̃̈́͊̕͜š̶̥͕̳͚̓͊̌̓̈́͂͠ ̴̢̡̛̟̰̮̣̭̩̠͇̺͇̰̈́̄̅̑p̶̨̧̛̫̥͓̪̠̝̣̭̦̙͈̀̀̆̅̃̆̊̅ḛ̵͎͇͙̏̀̐̌̆̿̾r̷̨̞͈̖̦͈̼̙͚̲̮̥̩͇̃̎̓̈́̆̓̽̚͘f̸̡̼͇̱̼̜̞͍̯͓̩͌͂͋̋̔̃͌̓̐̌͘͜͝͝͝e̸̛͙̞̻̝͓͉͎̟̜̠͙̝̖͋͋̄́̂̈́͑̓̀͘͜͝c̴̹̃̆͊̄̍̓͛̑̇̀̇ṫ̸̩̖̮̙̞̥͇̌̒́́͂

@winters-club​

Something was wrong

Since the incident, since stolas went under, since he became a wrapped mummy in a hospital.

Blitz went silent, locked up in his room, only sounds of mumbling madness and movements. 

FINISHITFINISHITFINISHIT

Silence filled the other side of the line, sounds of movement and small mumblings. It seems entirely like the phone was answered on accident if anything.

EVERYTHING he had been working for had been nearly taken from him.

That BLASTED FUCKING FOOL. STRIKER! NEARLY TOOK EVERYTHING!

All the work, all the training, everything he had done to make it so when he faced stolas the blood would be a last resort, he wanted the honor of falling a goeiita with the power of blood. 

NONONONONONONO! 

AND WHAT WAS NOW?

Now was a simple visit to a hospital.

What will happen stella will hold him down and he will plunge the blade?

Ǹ̴͈͍̉̽̐̆̽͗̆̚Ơ̷̢͍̮̻̼̗̟͉̦̭̒͒͑̎͝Ǹ̴̬̮̥̮͑̃̾̀̈́̀̊̈́̄O̴̳̮̰̰̹͎̞̯̺̅͌̿̕͝N̵̡͓̭̗̗̯͚̟̹̮̜̙̼̈́̀̽̇͌̆O̴̡͓̟̱͔͊̓͌̈́̅̈́͌̃́̾̍̕N̷͎̰͋̈́̐̔̈́͊O̶̢̡̞̩̙̫̞̍̓̕N̷̺̖̺̜̯̭͓̠͉̹̘̟̼̫̔͗̄̈̌̌̈́̎̋̋̐̚͝O̸̡̜̦̫̥̰̎̐̔̂͆͆͐̓́̇̆̚͜N̶̡̩͖̜̬̪͎̐O̴̡̢̥̰̩͎̯͍̲̮͔͒̔̃̆͗̆̄͗͒̍͘!̸̻̲̬̜̻͔̇̇̿̑̆ͅ!̴̡̝̰̠̯̲̏́͆͛̾!̶̠̩̞͓̫̙͎̍̌̒̌̂͌̀͋

It was all business, a simple transaction, a simple transfer from life to death?

No..no..NO! 

SILENCE.

Blitz took a step back as thunder cracked outside his brush sliding from his hand clinking to the ground.

A voice finally crackles through. 

“Beautiful....” Shaky fingers reach out careful not to touch the canvas. 

Used, abused, broken and torn, power AND CHAINS THAT WRAP SO TIGHTLY THAT SQUEEZE HE CAN BARELY BREATHE. 

Beautiful...its perfect...

There was still time, time to fix this...stella had overstepped, sent her little assassian first and it could have RUINED EVERYTHING...an imp using blessed weapons taking down something like a god...it happended, it woujld be swept away...

What was coming was going to shake hell to its core, a rebirth of the ole, a lie washed away...they would all suffer like he has suffered. 

THEY WILL COWER IN FEAR.

A NEW AGE OF TERROR

UNLIKE THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN! 

He stopped and slowly looked to see his phone was in the middle of a call as he reached and looks to the contact bringing it to his ear.

“Everything is about to change.”

The line goes dead.

Blitz drops the phone before turning and grabbing his things, placing the mask on his face.

NO MORE WAITING, NO MORE SUFFERING, NO MORE ANGER, NO MORE TRIALS.

IT ENDS NOW.

THEY THOUGHT THEMSELVES SAFE IN THE LIGHT. 

how wrong they were.

His hands reach opening a small compartment a tiny space enough for one person to stand in, dried blood coating all its sides, grasping gently, like it was a small child the sides of his canvas. 

Mumbling something as he walked through the portal of blood, the final stage...everything set so right, then one more trip, after the final touches, reappearing on rooftops, the skies as grey and dark as night itself, His visage standing at the edge, below laid the hospital....so many people laid inside, they would all die if they dared to cross his path.

Training complete, blood..mastered, the stage has been set.

The blade is taken out, the palm is cut.

TAKE YOUR PLACES EVERYONE. 

He leaps landing to the ground the mask smiling wider as if that was ever a thing.

ACTION!

Ping a message is received

Blitzy: Stolas, I’m here to see you...i’ll be right up :)

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 3

Enver Gortash/Trans male Tiefling Durge

The bloodshed was waning by now. Sentry felt a little pang in his heart as he realized the night guards (and indeed, any archivist unlucky enough to be working late) had been dispatched or subdued. He allowed himself to be caught off guard just a moment as the beautiful elf expertly eviscerated a burly dwarf with a blade on the heel of her boot. He didn't see the sword wielding human trying to creep up behind him, but he did turn as he heard a death rasp and a sickening crack. His would be attacker slumped to the floor and behind the man stood Enver Gortash, carelessly inspecting the delightfully deadly looking gauntlet he wore. Sentry looked down, the man's neck was snapped, not merely broken, the gleaming white of his spine dripping in blood and gore was visible poking out like an over large thorn from his ruined neck. Sentry looked back up at Gortash, who was now looking to his men who were expertly reclaiming father's things under Sceleritas' careful direction. The tyrant's face was so beautiful in this moment, blood spray freckling his deep olive flesh and rich black hair, the shape of his profile was something an artist like Sentry could only dream of being inspired to paint. His breath caught in his throat and he realized his next masterpiece. “Is something wrong, my dear executioner?” The sardonic smile on Gortash's face begged to be slashed from ear to ear. Sentry blinked and shook his head, righting himself. “Oh, uh...no. No, everything's great. But...um...hey, you've got all these designs for high politics, yeah? Ever thought of having a portrait done?” The young man asked, fingers reaching out to touch the bloodied, bristled flesh of Gortash's jawline. “You cut an imposing figure and I'd love to paint you.” To dig in, to pull away that flesh. To paint his visage in his own blood. Sentry felt a tightening at his groin. “Oh? You'd truly like to paint me?” That smirk again. He had to know what Sentry was feeling just now. “Well, I'd be a fool to turn down such an offer from such a talented artist. I assume given that your skulking, brooding friend has been following me for some time now, you know where to come?” So he knew Jackal was tailing him. As much as Sentry despised his brother, Jackal was an excellent hunter, which meant Gortash was far more clever than he thought. Or he had far better resources. This alliance would be much more beneficial than he'd dreamed and when it was over, the aftermath would be so much sweeter.

“Yes, of course. But for now, it's really time we got these things home...although...” His eyes fell to the surviving, cowering non-combatants Gortash had kneeling and trembling in a row. Sentry's bright eyes flicked back to the tyrant with the look of a date who has seen some fine jewelry in a shop. “May I? My halberd is thirsty, it didn't like being set aside for the smaller blades...and after all, I have such a vision in mind, it will require a lot of ribs.” “Be my guest, dear Executioner, after all, I've always wondered why you're called that.” Gortash bowed graciously and stood back, arms folded across his chest making him look quite imposing in the black horned half-mask he wore, hands painted jet black beneath his gauntlet. Sentry nodded and drew his weapon, the true extension of his form as much as any brush or chisel and every bit a tool of his artistry. The Banite guarding them looked to Gortash briefly and the lordling motioned for him to step back and give the command. “Right, necks out, you lot!” The burly armored woman barked. As if dragged by the hand of Bane himself, the frightened archivists were forced forward on their hands and knees, necks bared and ready. Sentry clutched his halberd tightly and breathed in the scent of their fear. Exquisite. He raised the weapon and in the blink of an eye, the first head rolled to the floor in a glorious spray of crimson. Each cut was clean and precise and as each body fell separated from its head, Sceleritas and the beautiful elf lovingly began extracting the parts Sentry requested for his projects.

When the last head rolled, Sentry knelt in the pooling blood, lowering his hands into it and painting his face slowly and reverently. He bowed his head and clasped his hands in prayer, eyes closed and voice silent for some time. Finally he rose to his feet and looked across the room, mismatched eyes meeting deep, dark emerald. The feeling was electric. Sentry felt it and so did Gortash. As the Bhaalists and Banites left the scene of slaughter with their prizes in tow, the two knew this would not be the last time they saw eachother, not even close.

[libidomechanica]

“So fair, (ay me) so wondrous”

And suddenly arrests move; the     river as a cane that no man knowledge is known the best     to meet decay; is the women’s flesh be much; then you     transitory to know the luminous air of courage dwelling-     place rest of naturally—

impose stand is! When I laughing     said he i’ll trousers furl’d about the temples I behung,     so that a joy tis my sail’d? And this, wise silken kerchief     in fault’ she wreckful sign of late life and porcelain,     among weeds, or other,

your Psyche was for lover,     dismantle laps over the crowned, and lover, so let thy trunk     all gentle into a planet, moving spoken and restless     humble rug. The ashes on a bitterness, which force     them with pity let armes

embraced. To have vowed. In offerings     all the cliff-road edged with the day, leauing me in which learns. Then     while he so fair and pierce and tears fall in vain: strike the dreamed     black eyes swim and, having seaward on the same thither. Yet     such, so kind, and make all

mine’s the rest of nastiness. Made     him young savage of death. But in the soyle, that faulds to     your name as if another quicker proofe make a nest of     white the Eastern wild! Pake thy servance. Whether hair, as the     banks of the day. So fair,

ay me so wondrous beauties totall     surprised at the sea, salt-sweete, do not so good friends to     marry yet; I’m o’er young, I’m feared years long he pause. His own     hues and bruise in mourn, becomes near your plan, and anger ran     in the length stol’n good night,

were overrules this from his mace     but, as babes do this tedious argument, which is     traditional; t was which she slid. Forget to touch of the     lily, an altar, to dote upon a root of joy illum’d     my hard although sames

objects retired; the flying some     fret? But some hands her woman- conquered that was Miltiades!—     I’m o’er young JESSIE you seem all headlong the Princessant.     The little hill or turns my foe came in which wit to wheedless     in thee that rubs its

will weary, sir; but in the wake     up in the solitude of human heart which treats of the     city’s edge. This round up erect and the sapphire     visaged god grew. Such a nag on, amorous rites that my     body into the mark—

and if they die in your Highness     keep your ugly Chaos’ den upweighed. And if she’s mine     were still their lonely want to lead you do, too real for her     hand glance to go against then the word, when the wall, then to     gaze upon. These may murmur

to spare.—Of Him whose shall     discovers, brave, unable took that little workmanship both     are but he, more in our match ’twixt the only shrine of those     thy loof in midst thou thy oaten pype and pawed about as     long ago, ’ she could once

lost, and the Teian music, which alone     in the beauty had been worthy tottring breezes     reinvigorate dormant deserts our breathed with my frugal     eye of men will never yet some way did each others black     was not what he started

with Idalian boy did entreat     that thou would vouchsafe you say. Of pillow, had the first time     serves the dooryards all, at lent my knee socks, and in, the stayed     so our dead storie office the harvest moon, who every     swain. Pent in a poet,

is it that medicine say. Fool     that wrought. So subtler, and ask much less breast, to the herself     whilst I would love is not be idolatry to know or     knew, nor shun me not, folly and streets that looked as if it     were, and lyeth wrapt in the

way did despisèd love you some hand     answered shook the left Juan slept in love, how he sunlight to     snap, do that which crawling up again saturn as one act     at one hour went reason of owls their fountain strained, to their     eyes; thus much less breast he

wound the light. Or blush our bread: no     hungry cheerly swum. When noon is on, had seen these were to     touch, first of her hair in utter’d in the swell as the fierce     and, Do I dare? What virtuous meat is hid from loving,     not that sweet as a child.

[shatter-the-law]

Tag Drop <3

[woolfcried]

carmen sorelli, prima ballerina of the palais garnier opera house

[mysteriesdelved]

carmen sorelli of the opera garnier

mutuals can rb

[frank-lxngbottom]

revised tag drop.

[sylverstorms]

Miss Fortune x Reader ----Salt-Crusted Heart

For an easier read, head to Ao3.

Another day. Another hunt for a fetter.

Feels like this is your life now, your present and your future. It feels like this war against the ever-spreading mist and Viego will never end. Your days as a trainee Sentinel, where the tough schedule of the Academy was your only problem, seem so far away now it’s like they belong in a dream. Like that was a different you.

And it was, wasn’t it.

That ‘you’ hadn’t ever slashed at anything other than a training dummy. Now you’re out here –with a very dysfunctional crew of lunatics— fighting mist monsters.

Said dysfunctional crew is, once again, arguing amongst themselves on which way you’re supposed to be headed next. Everyone’s got their own opinion and somehow it never matches with anyone else’s. You don’t even know how they manage that.

It takes a few light years for the majority to agree you’re heading to Bilgewater.

By the time you Wayfinder them there, you’re not surprised that all you see is darkness and sickly green mist. Half the world has gone to shit already and you’ve come to terms with that. More or less. Probably less.

“Wow.” you say as you take in the ghostly-looking town ahead of you and the armada of ships at the port below, blocking this side of the island off completely. Not that there’s a lot to block because the place is a ravaged hellhole anyway.

The environment has this wrecked, haunted vibe that would be super interesting to see in a movie with an apocalypse theme. Perhaps not so much on an actualapocalypse, though.

“Likin’ the view?” Graves asks, the corner of his lips sealed over his cigar.

“No, it was more of a ‘this is so much worse than I could have imagined’ type of wow.” you explain.

“It really is.” Riven agrees.

“Funny thing; the mist ain’t changed it all that much.” Graves laughs.

“Hey. Focus.” Lucian chastises. This guy, you’re convinced, is allergic to lightening the mood. He’s also not someone you dare say this to. “See that?” he points at the sea, to the massive ship there, towering over the rest.

You’re so focused on its fine craftsmanship and the little details you keep finding the longer your eye remains on it, you miss his point entirely, at first. Then you blink and look closer –at the thin, telltale trail of green-black smoke floating upwards from its deck.

There’s no mistaking it; a fetter is on that vessel.

“Now, listen up, everybody. Big Ol’ Graves is a legend around these parts, so my name will get us on that beauty. But. People here can be a bit… unfriendly towards new faces.” he begins. “Let’s not walk up there like an attack force and end up riddled with holes, ye?”

“Good idea.” you nod.

“Rookie, Graves, you’re heading up first.” Lucian motions with his chin.

“Bad idea.” you comment, but his skewering glare has you agreeing with the plan the same second.

“Signal if you need help.” Senna adds.

Graves only laughs heartily and grabs your uniform with his large hands, pulling you along. You know you won’t like what you hear when he leans down and whispers to you:

“We won’t have time to signal if they decide we’re not worth listening to but let’s not tell them that, Rook.”

“That’s… just what I needed to hear.” you grimace.

“Ha! Which means you’re goin’ up first. Chances are they won’t instantly shoot your pretty face off.”

“Wait… what about that ‘my name will get us up there, no trouble’?” you ask.

“Hah! That was just to impress Vayne, kiddo. My name is far more likely to get us killed in these parts.” he laughs but you don’t. “Did she look impressed?”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, she didn’t, mate.” Nothing has ever moved Vayne other than when she kills monsters in a particularly violent way.

“Ah, shit. Maybe next time.”

Yeah, if there is a next time.

Your chances aren’t looking good as soon as you step onto that deck and every weapon imaginable is suddenly shifted to you.

…

Graves tells you to put your ‘social skills’ into good use. You are not aware that was one of your talents, so it’s probably more of his bullshit. Either way, death by a thousand bullets gives you a solid motivation to turn the charm on and talk.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure we can all come to an agreement here. No need for all that firepower.” you say, totally not sweating at all underneath your white jacket. “You have something that we need and I’m sure we can negotiate a profitable deal for everyone.”

Jackpot. Bounty hunters want money more than anything. And there is not a sweeter sound to their ears than the promise of wealth. Even if you’re just talking nonsense to save your ass.

“If I could just speak to the captain—”

“The captain is listening.” a commanding voice says from up ahead. Some of the crew members part to let her through…

And.

You see a vision in this nightmare.

The woman that walks forward stands out like fire over water, like stark color on Bilgewater’s salt-washed palette. Maybe it’s the vivid red of her flowing hair, stark against the gold-trimmed black of her hat, or the emerald green of her eyes, or the way she holds herself, a queen on this deck. Whatever the reason, you cannot tear your gaze off of her.

Tongue-tied at the moment, you let Graves do the talking. Big mistake.

The goddess’ visage darkens when she sees your company, who she addresses in a less than pleasant tone: “Look what washed in with the tide. Malcolm Goddamn Graves.” You wouldn’t want that glare directed at you, ever.

“Fortune? Ah, hells, naw.” he curses. “What are ya doin’ here? How did ya get a whole damn fleet a’ warships?”

“A lot has changed since we last met. Fools around here decided to challenge me for control over Bilgewater. I locked this place down until we can resolve this inconvenience.” she says, like cutting off half the freaking island is not a big issue.

The sound of her heels on the wooden floor is downright ominous as she approaches. Her eye scans you lightning-quick, then the entirety of her attention is on Graves. The very next second…

A blunderbuss pistol is pointing right to your face, same as his.

“Whoah.” you gasp.

“What’s Gankplank paying you?!” she demands.

“I ain’t workin’ for that bastard! I ain’t even on speakin’ terms with his orange-eatin’ ass! Ya know that!”

“What I know is you came onto my deck with fancy new equipment and a whole team of mercenaries at your back. You know, just in case you thought you were being subtle, in all that silver and white sticking out in Bilgewater like a sore thumb.” She has a point. “That getup isn’t cheap and there’s only one cretin around here with that kind of coin. Now tell me what he’s planning, of you’ll be smoking that cigar through a new hole.”

“Um –ma’am? He’s telling the truth.” You almost regret speaking up when her piercing stare lands on you. “And we’re not mercenaries. We’re Sentinels of Light.” you add.

“You put on a convincing performance, cutie.” she says.

In any other scenario, a goddess like that calling you cute would make you blush. But the gun still very much in your face makes it difficult to really register the word.

“Like you’ve never heard of the ‘Saltwater Scourge’, ‘Reaver King of the High Seas’… ‘Scum-sucking Hagfish Who Takes All You Ever Cared About’…”

Oh, okay. So, she’s got a screw loose as well.Not surprising considering the company you attract, lately.

“Nope. Kiddo’s right, Sarah. They’re Sentinels, alright.” the very familiar voice of your boss, which normally doesn’t make you happy to hear, has the opposite effect now. Lucian walks up behind you to save the day.

“Lucian?” she asks, finally lowering her weapons. “…this is your crew?”

“Yep. And I’d appreciate it if you kindly refrained from killing them. Need about every gun we can get.” he replies.

“Follow me.” she says. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

…

Captain Fortune does not drive an easy bargain.

From what you hear later, she’s given Lucian a real hard time with negotiations. And even now, she’s the one who holds all the cards.

If you are to defeat Viego and make it clear to Bilgewater it was her who made it possible, she is willing to trade with the fetter and even let you stay on her ship in the meantime. Otherwise, if she gets the feeling it’s him who gains ground and holds the power in this place, you’re basically screwed.

The others are uneasy. They’ve suggested multiple times you steal the fetter from Fortune and dash for your lives after. Thing is, with how close she keeps that relic, that plan is looking impossible.

Which brings you to where you are right now, all the Sentinels and Miss Fortune gathered around the same map, planning your next action.

“Yes, but if I help you get there, what’s in it for me?” she asks.

And really, you don’t have anything to offer her in return. Even Lucian looks to Senna for help. Who, in turn, looks at you.

Why do they keep doing that? What have you done to convince these people you are good at talking? Especially to women like the captain.

“How about the… moral reward of helping save people from these monsters?” you suggest.

Her green eyes –and holy shit are they green— look at you like she wants to both scoff and laugh sardonically. “Tell me that is a joke.”

“It –it really isn’t.” you reply.

She huffs. “Look. I’m sure you’re all nice people. But nice people here get their throats cut.” She motions with her hand. “The cutthroats get the spoils. That’s how it works. I only care about the spoils.” she states. “So, if you want things from me and my crew, you need to make it worth our time.”

Their time sure isn’t cheap.

You know you don’t have anything at Headquarters with the kind of value she’s looking for. Definitely no coin and no gold for her services. But. You’ve heard multiple times during classes that the materials the Sentinel outfits are weaved from are extremely durable and therefore, extremely desirable.

“Would you and your crew be interested in a wardrobe overhaul?” you ask. All eyes are on you, but hers are the most intense. “Every prestigious fleet has to look the part, no? Plus, these clothes…” you say, grabbing the nearest knife and dragging it across your sleeve. The fabric is not so much as scratched. “…are pretty cool.” you tell her.

Miss Fortune leans back in her captain’s chair with a pretty smile painted on her –very attractive— lips.

“Now you’re talking my language, cutie. I’m sure we can work something out.”

…

On one hand, you have Gwen sewing day and night –your fault, you feel bad for it— while the rest of you handle the fighting. On the other, you do have a ship taking you wherever you need and making your job of clearing the darkness ten times faster.

Even Lucian has given you a pat on the back for that one. That was certainly unexpected.

“We need Fortune to take us here.” Senna points on the map. “Rookie, you go tell her.”

You almost choke on your water. “Why me?” you ask.

“Because you’re finally making yourself useful.” Lucian replies. Ouch.

“I’ve been very useful from the start!” you argue. The others look amongst themselves. “Hey!”

“I mean… points for effort.” Diana comments.

“Moral support is useful, I agree.” Riven smirks at you.

‘Asshole’ you mouth, rising from your seat. Her grin only widens.

You send them a narrowed, unimpressed look over your shoulder on your way out. Some of the crew members that see you walking towards the captain’s cabin whistle your way. You’re sure there’s tons of colorful comments behind your back but you have bigger things to worry about.

Like… the way a certain redhead looks leaned back in her plush chair, a queen on her throne, toying with a gold coin that flips over her nimble fingers with effortless ease. Focus on the mission. The mission, I say. Oh, Gods…

“I love how they send you in to ask for extra.” she says. “So. Are you the silver tongue of the group?” There’s something in her little smirk and the way she says ‘tongue’ that gets to you, but that’s probably just your vivid imagination.

That and the months you’ve spent without any outlet for your stress other than fighting, on top of more fighting.

“No, the others are just that terrible at basic social interactions.” It’s the truth.

Fortune gives a small chuckle. “Let’s see how good you are, then, Sentinel.”

You pleadwith your hopeless lesbian brain not to fry on the spot. “We sort of need you to get us further than discussed. While hoping that… the scenic route will be its own reward?”

“Cute.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” you perk up.

“No.”

“I’ll send Lucian here next time so he can bore you to death until you agree.” You never claimed to be above blackmail.

“A bold statement.” she replies. “Tell you what. If you demolish a few of my enemies’ ships during your hunt for the mist things, then deal.”

Sentinels aren’t supposed to do that. And if you tell Lucian, that will be his exact answer. You can already hear his unpleasant voice in your head. However, you’ve already figured out the world doesn’t work by the Sentinel Code, so…

“Accidents do happen on the battlefield.” you say.

Sarah gives you that slow smile that makes a certain part of you feel hot under your outfit. “And don’t bring any of the others in here to negotiate. I’d rather look at your pretty face.”

Uh.

Um.

By the time you exit the cabin, all you can think is, what just happened?

…

Combat is a rush, sometimes. As is knowing you’re getting stronger and faster by the day. You still don’t hold a candle to the rest of your group, but you can finally say you’re helping them out.

Being further up in the enemy’s face, though, is also petrifying. You see a twisted reflection of yourself in every mist wraith’s dead eyes. There are nightmares that come hand-in-hand with the experience… and then there’s physical pain.

You’ve been hurt before. Their talons can slice through even your magic-reinforced outfits. Still, every time feels worse than the last. The laceration you’re currently sporting on your side is burning like the fires of hell.

You’re trying not to scream by the time Riven lowers you onto the deck. Your vision is blurred with sweat and the tears you’re fighting to keep at bay.

“What’s going on here?” you hear Fortune’s voice in your haze.

“Tell me you have a healer on board!” Riven shouts.

“And they can get here fast!” Senna adds.

You’re not sure how much time passes. It feels like light years until someone kneels beside you and starts working on your wound. The healing magic pulls and sears at you. Every muscle in your body is taut with the effort to keep still.

“Isn’t …a healing spell supposed to numb the pain, first?” Diana asks.

“Look, blondie, I’m no professional here, ye? Just picked up a few things from mah old man. If ya wanna criticize, come here and do it yourself.” he answers. And it’s …not the best feeling in the world to hear your healer say that.

“No offense. Just worried for our teammate.” Senna adds. At least one of your bosses cares about your wellbeing.

The other just benches you for the next mission.

…

Out of all the people you expected to come see you while you’re recovering, Sarah Fortune is the last who came to mind. You’re almost shocked mute when the captain comes to sit on the edge of your bed, graceful and fluid as ever. Gorgeous as ever, too, while you’re sure you look pale as a ghost, eyes sunken as a shipwreck.

“Hey, Rookie.” she greets.

“Ah, great. That nickname’s never gonna come off, is it.” you roll your blue eyes.

“How’s the battle scar?”

“I’m not bleeding all over your fancy deck anymore, at least.” you say. “Guess I should be glad for that.” Although you are a bit frustrated that the ‘healer’s’ hand was so shaky there’s a scar left there now, permanently, when it could have been avoided. “And that the dude wasn’t drunk bad enough to stitch my organs to my skin.”

“Yeah, luckily he was only a little drunk.” she nods.

“That makes total sense for a healer. Who, from what I know from four years at the Academy, should always be sober.” you cannot keep it in any longer.

“That’s… a tall order here.” Yes, of course, the place is far too shitty for that.

“I gathered.”

“Come, now. Don’t be upset about the scar.” You’re upset about the pain that could have been avoided if the damn guy just didn’t drink his ass off in the middle of the day. “…Want me to kiss it better?”

You’re so far up your mind –filled with thoughts of being a dead weight on the team on top of your dead classmates because of Viego— you don’t even hear her. Your head is pounding from the pressure the memory causes you, a killer mix with the effect of the painkillers you’ve been on, all evening.

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” you reply, your voice hoarse and alien to your own ears.

…

You and Fortune talk a bit more on the two days you’re out of commission.

You learn a few things about her, like the fact you have a common interest in psychology. Like the fact you shouldn’t ever ask about her past or her family, unless you want her to close up tighter than a clam, at the speed of lightning. In the meantime, if it feels like she may be throwing more smirks your way than when she talks to anyone else, you blame that on your wishful thinking.

That woman is way out of your league.

It is one in the night and everyone on the ship is either well asleep or completely passed out from booze. You wake up from a nightmare, then fully register the way the ship is swaying from the angry waves. The resulting nausea has you completely losing the desire to fall back into the land of dreams.

You thought you’d be the only one awake when you walked up to the deck, yet you quickly realize that’s not the case when the sound of heels approaches from behind. You already know it’s her. The night breeze does a wonderful job of carrying her perfume straight to your nose. As if she wasn’t already fatally attractive without it.

You keep your eyes on the waves, so dark blue they look black.

“Oh, this is a surprise. Such a romantic soul, admiring the sea in the dead of night.” she says. The slight –sexy as fuck— slur to her words must have something to do with the bottle of whiskey in her hand.

“Yeah, my thoughts are not that deep.” you chuckle. “More like ‘fuck this constant motion under my feet’.”

She gives a small, airy exhale that could pass as a laugh, leaning on the railing next to you. Kind of close, too. “Ah and here I thought Sentinels didn’t swear.” she says. “And that they don’t drink. Unless you care to prove me wrong there, too.”

She takes a swing of the bottle and passes it to you. The smart part of your brain tells you it is a bad, bad idea. The rest of you is seduced by the promise of the buzz and the challenge in her eyes.

Well. Since you’re not really getting anywhere closer to where her lips are in anything other than your very private fantasies, you think may just take the chance for an indirect kiss that’s presented.

The gulp you take from the bottle –you intended a sip but the fucking ship moves so much— burns a trail down your throat and past your insides. You almost cough. How heavy is this thing?

“Ahem. So.” you begin. “What’s keeping you out late?”

“I have great company.” At first you think she means you, then you realize it’s the bottle that’s lucky. Hah, fell right into that one. “And… my cabin is very cold tonight.”

It’s really chilly, yeah, but it’s not that bad, you think. Maybe the two of you are just used to different climates, though. “I’m… sorry to hear that.” you reply.

“Well. Guess I should head in or it will never warm up by itself.” she says.

You nod and bid her goodnight, turning your eyes back to the inky waves. But then you feel her weight softly crash into your back, ample chest pressing against you, one of her hands on your waist and the other on the railing next to yours for support. Her lips are right by your ear, so close you feel them brush against the shell as she says:

“Oops.”

Then she’s gone, taking her extremely sexy perfume with her, while your stomach drops to the sea and sinks right to the very bottom. It takes a few moments to realize you’re still holding the railing so tightly your fingers have gone white.

What the…

You go back to bed trying not to think about whatever that was.

The next day, you have no idea why she’s not speaking to you at all, or why she doesn’t even look at you when she addresses the Sentinels, none-too-pleased with your progress.

…

When one of the crewmates tell you the captain has summoned you, you do a double take and ask if she really means you. Fortune has been in a weird mood towards you since that night, to say the least.

You are mentally braced for the worst when you enter her cabin. You’re already tired from fighting mist wraiths all morning and you don’t think you can handle whatever it is that’s going on with her at the moment.

Scratch that. You’re sure you can’t when she gets up from her seat, walking almost in a circle around you, like a shark. You lean back against the wooden surface of her desk, waiting. Cautious.

“Have I not been clear enough, all these days?” she asks, as if wondering out loud.

“Um…. excuse me?” you question back. Has the mist gotten to her? It has been known to cause strange behavior after prolonged exposure.

She’s at the door now, facing you without really looking at you and it makes you feel trapped. Your one escape is blocked. “You’re not from around here, so I thought it was best not to be… Bilgewater-forward.” she says. “On the other hand, I don’t think I’ve been that subtle?”

“…I’m. I’m not…sure I follow.” you speak, quietly.

“Do you really have no idea or are you just trying to be polite?” She finally looks into your eyes.

You shake your head ‘no’.

She licks her lips. “What, was I supposed to give you a formal letter inviting you to my cabin for sex the other night?” Your jaw, you think, hits the floor and shatters. Your whole body shivers and goes rigid. “If you don’t want to, just say it so I won’t wait around for nothing.”

You… don’t know what words are at the moment. The ground has disappeared and you’re a falling mess. It is the worst case of freezing on the spot you’ve ever experienced.

“That’s not… that’s not… the case.” you manage to say.

“Good to know.” she nods, casually, then strides up to you and grabs the front of your high-collared Sentinel jacket, bringing you lip-to-lip. “Is this clear enough for you?” she breathes against you.

It’s more than clear enough when her plump lips seal over yours, tasting of sweet-flavored lipstick and alcohol and sea-salt. In fact, it is clear like a nuclear bomb going off on the back of your head.

The heat wave burns down your stomach violently and it only gets worse when she pushes her tongue into your mouth, licking over yours, her hips practically straddling you with how tightly fitted you stand. Every movement of her mouth or her body echoes all the way down yours.

It’s beyond anything you could have ever conjured in your head, having her angle your chin however she wants it while her hips slowly rock against you. It’s almost too hard and too fast and too good –and you get too close.

But then—

A knock comes on the door.

“Captain?” someone asks from the outside and it’s both a blessing and a dark curse.

Sarah tries to catch her breath, every exhale tickling your ear. “One moment.” she calls over her shoulder, sounding every bit the captain she is, as if the past minutes where you were literally dry humping each other didn’t happen.

She pulls back from you with a satisfied little smirk at how wrecked you no doubt look, pulling your outfit straight. Her thumb wipes off the smudge of her lipstick on the corner of your mouth, then she goes to a nearby mirror to reapply hers.

When she walks back over to you, your knees shake at just the sight of her. You don’t know how you’ll ever calm down from this. Safe to say she’s ruined every kiss you’ve ever had or will have.

“My bedroom will be open to you tonight. Consider this your formal letter, yes?” her long fingers brush over your jawline, as she stalks back to her seat.

“Come in.” she calls, poker face on, sounding bored.

You make your escape as tactical –and dignified— as possible and don’t look back until you’re practically off the ship.

…

To say you are distracted for the rest of the hours until night completely settles over Bilgewater is an understatement. Your head is in the clouds and you have no idea what’s going on around you. The whole world could catch fire and all you’ll be thinking about is Fortune, Fortune, Fortune…

“What’s got you so quiet tonight, little Sentinel?” Riven asks.

Only the best damn kiss of your entire life. Plus the fact you’re living a dream and you don’t want to wake up. “Maybe I’m just trying to imitate Vayne. From now on you’ll hear my voice only when we kill stuff.”

“Ha, ha.” Vayne comments in typical Vayne style from her seat, hunched over her weapon and making calibrations.

“All I’ll say is, be careful.” the Noxian lowers her voice a bit, the words kept between the two of you.

“Of what?” you play dumb.

“Just in general.”

You don’t know what Riven suspects but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been through a lot these past months. You deserve to feel something good once in a while. Your love life is none of their business unless it interferes with their business, which it won’t because you’re sure this won’t mean anything beyond Fortune’s bedroom.

You wait until everyone on the ship is asleep and take a liquid courage boost to sneak to the captain’s cabin.

…

One knock. That is all your knuckles manage, one contact with the door, until it swings open and a familiar hand grabs at the front of your outfit, pulling you in.

You’re pressed back against it as soon as it shuts, crimson lips hot on yours before you can even think to say anything. Gods, is she always so insistent?You could melt into a wet puddle on the floor from the way she presses into you alone. This woman knows exactly what she wants and how to take it.

Somewhere in the back of your head you hear the sound of a lock turning.

“Took you long enough.” she whispers when you break apart.

Once again, whatever you were about to say is cut off by her tugging on the high collar of your jacket. She either has a thing for it or for pulling you around in general, you think. No complains, whatever the case.

“Won’t you give me the tour around, first?” you ask, playing coy only thanks to the drink you’ve had. Otherwise, you’d be your usual self; a mess.

“Oh, sure.” she says as she shoves you into her bedroom, illuminated by a single candle. “Wardrobe, guns, bed.”

Well. It still feels like the best tour you’ve ever had when she walks you back until you’re falling on her very comfortable mattress, with her perched above you like a predator. She gives you a little smirk as she straddles your thigh and sits up, undoing the taut buttons on her shirt, painfully slow.

Oh… It would be very awkward if you died from a heart attack now, yet it feels like you’re on the verge of one.

“Nothing smart to say now, Sentinel?” The confidence comes with her looks, you’re sure. She knows she’s hot as fuck.

You shake your head, speechless, eyes travelling from her toned midriff to her perfect chest, to her hypnotic eyes and the sensual way her hair spills like a red waterfall across her shoulders. This is a dream, it’s not real life, but don’t wake me up ever…

Fortune leans back down, taking your chin in two fingers as she studies your flushed face. You don’t know what she’s looking for, but something in her visage softens a fraction.

“If it’s too much at any point, tell me.”

“If I can talk, I will.” you say, mesmerized by the way her eyes look under the dim light.

Your next liplock is a little less rushed than your previous ones. She takes her time exploring your mouth and you gradually get bolder with where you touch her, fingers grazing up her sides to her stomach, to the underside of her bra.

Her lips leave yours only to burn a trail down the corner of your mouth, across your jawline and to your neck. Deft fingers undo the clasps and pull down the zipper of your white jacket, guiding it past your shoulders without taking it completely off. She definitely has a thing for it. You’d comment on that, too, if you could think about anything other than how good she smells.

Clothes come off while she sucks on your neck, teeth pressing against you just shy of leaving marks. When both of you are down to your underwear and breathing heavy, her fingers caressing dangerously low on your waistline, her lips come near your ear.

“So… I want to make you beg, but I can’t help but feel like I’m already corrupting you a lot.”

Corrupt away. you want to tell her.

“Does that turn you on?” you whisper in her ear and feel her response with how her hips press down harder onto yours.

“Yes.” That breathless admission becomes your undoing.

You get lost in her lips after it and the sensation of her fingers on you –inyou— working you up towards what could be simultaneously your ruin and your salvation. You touch her in turn, filling the room with both your moans and gasps, until that glorious peak of white-hot pleasure where the whole world comes to a stop for a few moments.

There is a time limit to your time together, now and generally, you are aware. But you allow yourselves a few quiet moments together as you lay there with the excuse of catching your breath, even if you already have.

Tough game you’re playing here. The smarter part of your brain says. It’s all too easy to get addicted to having her atop you like this. The better the dream, the more bitter the wakeup.

When Fortune lifts herself off you to slide under her heavy covers, you register the chill of night. You dress almost sluggishly, your body so very exhausted from the activities of the whole day.

Kissing her goodnight is almost an urge you fight under control, not wanting to make her uncomfortable if this was all she wanted out of your dalliance.

“Well, my bunk is calling.” you turn around to tell her, trying not to blush when you see her with her elbow resting on her pillow, cheek cutely pressed on her fist, watching you like a languid cat.

“Hate to watch you leave but I love to watch you go.” she smirks at you.

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

…

It is after a long damn day of fighting that you get to finally sit down and enjoy a meal and drinks.

The crew was cold and distrustful towards you at first, but they seem to have opened up more over the course of weeks –especially today, after you secured them a chest filled with gold coins left behind by wealthy people who were running from the wraiths. From the corner of your eye, you subtly watch Sarah Fortune interact with her men, hoping it’s not obvious how badly into her you are.

“So…” Riven begins from the chair next to you and you know that’s not going to be good.

“What?” You face her, playing cool.

“I’m sure you don’t need me to say that she’s bad for you… but I will, anyway.” You give Riven a blank stare that absolutely doesn’t fool her. Shit.

“Like how do you even know.” You finally break.

“It wasn’t obvious since day one there was something there?” Yeah, maybe to everyone except you.

“Wait.” Hold on a second. “Does everyone know?”

“I think everyone except Diana has pretty much figured it out.” That certainly explains the looks Lucian has been giving you all day. Double shit.

“What? The thing between Fortune and Rookie, here?” Diana asks from behind you.

Triple—

“Scratch that. Everyone knows.” Riven tells you. “And we all agree. She’s bad for you.” You hate the emphasis on that. “As in the worst.”

“I getit, Riven, thank you.” You shake your hand in her face while the other covers yours.

“I mean I know ruthless, player redheads who can and will absolutely murder you without a second thought are, like, a kink of yours—”

You don’t think your face gets any redder than this. “What—” you nearly choke on air. “That –how do you figure that out? That’s not even true.”

“Dude. When Katarina Du Couteau was brought into our conversation you nearly gasped and fangirled for the next hour.”

“I just heard a lot about one of our biggest Demacian enemies and wanted to know if it was all true!” you defend yourself.

“You asked me if she’s as hot as rumor has it, not about her war achievements.” Riven laughs.

“And you didn’t answer! Well, is she or isn’t she?” you ask. For… scientific purposes.

“I’m not going to answer that!” Riven lifts her hands up.

“She is.” Graves says as he slides into the seat next to you, drink in hand.

“Thank you!” You pat him on the shoulder.

“We should totally have her join the Sentinels.” he adds.

“Hah!” A vein pops at Riven’s temple. “And the answer will be something along the lines of ‘bold of you to assume I give a single fuck about the world’.” comes the imitation.

“Whoa, that’s exactly how she sounds like.” Graves says.

You’re glad the conversation has shifted away from you, at least.

From the opposite side of the room, you feel a familiar pair of eyes on you, yet they’re averted the second you raise yours to meet them.

…

They may know about your one-time thing with Fortune and heavily scrutinize it, but they still send you in now that they need to ask for more from the captain. With that, your teammates lose every right to comment on what you do and don’t do with her.

“We’ll get you the coin from that ship –well, Graves will, since they already hate him—and you help us out here. Deal?” you ask her.

There. You can be a professional and negotiate terms with the most beautiful woman in the world, who you also happened to have had mindblowing sex with, without constantly looking at her lips.

“Deal, but…” she begins. “You’re sitting all the way over there… why?”

So much for keeping your mind out of the gutter. “Um.” You lick your lips, unsure of what to say, while she smirks slow, like the cat that got the canary.

“Come here.” A pat on her desk, right in front of her chair.

Against your better judgement, you walk around the furniture and lean there, really, really close to her, especially when she stands, towering over you in her heels. You can tell she likes it, too.

“Don’t look at me like that, we leave in ten minutes.” you say. It doesn’t even phase her.

Her fingers move to the zipper of your jacket and although you should stop her, you don’t. “Really?” she leans closer, closer still, until her tantalizing mouth is a hair’s breadth from yours.

“…really. Nine, now.” you waver.

“Guess we have to be fast, then.”

She lightly pushes you onto her desk and starts undoing your belt buckles. The thought of what you’re about to do alone could make you come on the spot. It’s not just the thought that’s threatening to do that, when you feel her cool fingers slide right where you need them.

“You’re going to ditch me for your little Sentinel friends, who don’t like me?” she asks in your ear.

Oh, Gods…

“Ah, I like you enough for all of us, Fortune.” your lips move against her jawline as you speak. A little further down and you can feel how quick her pulse is. You wouldn’t have guessed, with how composed she looks fingering you on her desk.

“Sarah.” she holds your chin with two fingers as she says it, like a secret between you. “Call me Sarah when you come.”

You do.

…

It becomes a nightly thing after that, your visits in her bedroom.

She’s insatiable and she makes everything bothering you go away for those precious hours. But. The more you see of her, you cannot help but feel like something’s very wrong with Sarah.

Underneath the visage of the ruthless captain, the queen who can just reach out and take anything she wants, you see… cracks. She doesn’t sleep well. She drinks. You’re pretty sure you’re another distraction –coping mechanism?— although it doesn’t bother you. She’s the same for you, isn’t she?

It’s not like you have feelings for her.

…Right?

No, no that would be terrible. You definitely don’t. You are allowed to love the way her fingers are running lazy circles on your thigh right now without any sort of complicated emotions involved.

“You should quit while you’re ahead.” she tells you, half muffled into her pillow, stark black against the red of her hair.

This or the Sentinel war? You wonder.

“You have little cuts everywhere. They don’t even have time to disappear before new ones open on top of them.” she moves the back of her pointer to the biggest visible line near your knee, then up your arm, until her hand rests on the crook of your neck. “Leave the others to deal with the mist. It’s not your problem.”

“The world’s problem is my problem. Guess where I lived and what region fell to Viego first.”

You refrain from telling her how many people close to you met his blade before that. How many of the classmates you ate and trained with for four years you had to see skewered by him, on his insane quest for his ‘love’. You don’t want to sour your time together with your burdens. Your pain, your nightmares, are your own to deal with.

“If you keep going you’ll fall to him first.” she counters. “You’ll die protecting one of those idiots in your group or some random civilian.”

“Thanks, Miss Fortune-teller.” you say, a tad irked at her blatant disregard for anyone who isn’t herself.

“I don’t have to be one to tell.” she gives you a sad smile. “It’s always the good ones that die. It’s always the monsters that win.”

You can’t help but wonder…

What made you this way?

…

You see now why emotions are considered a distraction on the battlefield. Even as you kill monsters, all you think about is her.

Come to think of it…

You’ve never seen her smile for real. What you’re looking for is a far cry from those smirks she throws around to bring people to their knees, or the sardonic ones she levels Lucian with. Even those she offers you behind closed doors have a shadow underneath them. It makes you wonder about what would make her happy enough to give a genuine smile.

When you happen across a shipwreck filled with valuables, you think this may be it. The Sentinels take what they need and agree to give the rest to Fortune to stay on her good graces.

Her whole ship lights up with the joy of riches. The crew is ecstatic. Laughter and cheers fill the deck.

And yet.

Her glee is pretend, just for the sake of her men. Her eyes are hollow.

When she eventually retreats to her cabin, you follow her and knock on her door. “It’s always open for you~” she calls from the inside, already in the company of a whiskey bottle.

You turn the key behind you, then lean forward with your hands on her desk, staring at her.

“Why this serious, sexy?” she asks. “Need me to help loosen you up a bit?”

“You need to part with the fetter, Sarah.” you state. “It affects you in ways you won’t notice or understand but it always does.”

“Ah, part with it so you and your crew of misfits can steal it from me? Hmm… no.” she chuckles.

“I care more about what it does to you than the fetter itself right now.” you try again. Only to fail again.

“That’s sweet, but I don’t trust you.” Talk about words being sharper than knives, sometimes. “Don’t take it personally; I don’t trust anyone.”

“What a joyful life this must be.” you bite back.

“Coin is joy for me, sweetheart.” she leans back in her plush chair, taking another swing from the bottle.

“You didn’t seem very happy to me, back there.”

She gives you a look and finally sets the whiskey down. “Come here. I’ll tell you a little secret about me.” she says, a tad more serious than before.

Cautiously, you step around the desk until you’re in front of her seat. Her hand shoots up like a bullet, then, taking hold of your jacket and dragging you down until the two of you are eye-level.

“You know what would really make me happy right now?” You feel her leg move up the inside of yours, deliciously slow, as she speaks… until she hooks her calf behind your knee and makes your weight fall onto it. “For you to shut up about fetters and concerns and go down on me.”

Fuck.

Deep down, to a small part of you not ruled by your hormones, you know using sex to avoid any sort of deeper conversation between you is unhealthy. You know an arrangement where there’s no trust is unhealthy.

Then again, the circumstances that brought you together are anything but healthy.

And what sort of pretty flower can burst forth, really, from a corrupted seed?

…

When you return from your mist-slaying, late in the evening, the crew is uneasy.

“Don’t bother the cap’n right now.” One of the men says. “She ain’t havin’ the best o’ days.”

You later find out that they had a run-in with an enemy fleet. That the Reaver King has resurfaced and is looking to claim Bilgewater for himself. Major shit is about to go down, the bounty hunters tell you and you do not want to be outsiders caught in the middle when it finally hits the fan.

You give Sarah her space until the need to check up on her becomes overwhelming.

One knock on the door. “Leave.” she hisses from within the office like a tensed cat. Another knock. “You have ten seconds before I put a bullet through your skull!”

“Can’t imagine I’ll be very attractive then.” you reply.

The door swings open; her eyes are the epitome of a raging storm. You’ve never seen her like this, so hateful and distressed… and it hurts to witness. “My ‘leave’ applies to everyone. You, included.”

“Cool.” you nod at her. Pause. “So… can I come in now?”

Sarah throws her hands up in exasperation, pivoting with an angry, whispered ‘whatever’. She paces across her cabin, an agitated lion one step away from pouncing. Her hands run through her fiery hair as though they cannot keep still.

“You need to leave Bilgewater asap and never come back.” You don’t know if she’s talking to you or thinking out loud. “You need to go. With or without the rest of them, I don’t care, just go!”

“What’s… gotten into you?” you dare ask.

“He’s back. He always comes back, no matter how many times I sink the bastard. It��s like he cannot die. He just won’t die!” her voice is raw with her rage. “You Sentinels fight the darkness but you don’t kill evil. Evil will still be here –rooted here— even if you win.”

You open your mouth but can’t find anything to say.

“I have to win my own war. I will be victorious no matter the cost, no matter the bloodshed.” Sarah goes on. “But I need to know that you won’t be here. Do you understand?!”

You just look at her, sad and frozen, trying to understand. There’s nothing you can say to ease what’s hurting her and nothing you can do. You’ve seen this wretched thing eat away at her every day since the moment you met. It’s too deeply engraved in her heart for you to hope to change it; and it has little to do with the fetter in her possession.

Sarah crosses the room in two large strides and grabs your biceps. She looks like she’s ready to throw you off her ship herself…

Until.

She pulls you into her arms, instead.

Tight, like she’s afraid you’ll be gone the moment she lets go, she holds you close. Her head is tucked into your shoulder, her nails press hard into your back. You slowly bring your hands up to encircle her waist in return.

“I’ve lost everything. He took everything from me. I won’t give him the chance to take you away, as well.” she says.

Oh. you think. She cares about you, after all.

If only that was a good thing for either of you.

…

You feel it, when the moment comes.

Maybe you’ve always felt it and just didn’t want to admit it.

When Sarah stands in front of Viego offering the lot of you up along with the fetter in exchange for his ruined power, you know the agony you feel, like a blade splitting you down the middle, is your own doing. There is nobody but yourself to blame for it. The others warned you. Your own instinct warned you.

You didn’t listen.

You wanted to trust her. Maybe even to love her.

But her hatred runs deeper than whatever measly thing you were to her.

As the mist shrouds Fortune and turns her red hair luminescent blonde, as it eats away at her colors until they’re all black and sickly green, until the eyes you knew turn cold and unfeeling, you feel something in you crack. Maybe it’s your faith. Maybe it’s your heart.

There’s a lesson to take from this, you’re sure, despite how your emotions choke you. Right now, though, you focus on avoiding her bullets and having your teammates’ backs in the rain of chaos that follows.

You end up deep in the water, bleeding, defeated. You and the other Sentinels have never been crushed by your losses, but it will take some time to pick up your pieces and continue onward until the end of your war.

You allow yourself one scream muffled in the dark sea.

When you swim to the shore and pull your body out of the mud, you are silent.

“Are you okay? I know that was harder for you than it was for us.” Riven lays a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine. I’ll let it hurt after we get Viego.”

For now, you can’t afford taking the pain of a broken heart with you on the battlefield.

Sarah. You later think. Now I understand why hurricanes are named after people.

[mxvladdy]

Ooh~ I got somewhat of an angst(/comfort -hopefully??) ficlette request!

Established relationship with Diavolo. He thinks everything is going great. Until one night MC tells him that he makes them feel inadequate.

He's so BIG (they are literally/physically so much smaller than him, man is IMPOSING) and it's not like they have demon stamina/strength. they're afraid he gets bored, or will, in time.

He is SO IMPORTANT to everyone and everything and always so busy and they're just a distraction when he could be resting between meetings or courting with the intent to make an heir and they're just a human, a pretty average one at that, can't even use their magic like Maddi or Solomon

*clutches my gay little heart* I'm weak for giant puppy boys 😢. I love this idea! Hope I did it justice! P.s-hope ya ain’t lactose intolerant like I am, cuz I got cheesy at the end lmaooooo

Edit: 6/15- Here is the link to part 2!

  You feel inferior or inadequate? No, not his little Giglio.

He doesn't see at first. He is observant, sure. It comes with the territory as a prince, but he is so blind when it comes to you.

You're perfect and he wishes your relationship to be just as perfect. He can't explain why. Somewhere deep in the vacuous pits of his hearts, he yearns for your happiness.

He courts you like any demon would. Showing off his strength and magic to a maddening degree. He will lay fresh kills at your feet for you too.

It makes demons and other creatures swoon, but not a great turn-on for humans it seems. Barbatos had to pull him aside several times to remind him that too much magic could kill you, and he was tired of getting blood stains out of the wood floors.

He just wants to prove he is enough to you too. He'll do more human courting rituals as time goes on. Taking you topside to eat at human restaurants or do quaint human traditions.

Even in your realm, he can’t get away from gawking and curious humans wanting to be in his presents. He has the magnetic pull only a devil could pull off.

He doesn't notice your reluctance to be seen with him or sullen attitude till it was almost too late.

Balls are a common occurrence for him. Keeps the royal families in check, strengthens ties, or, some unfortunate times cutting them down in a show of force and warning for the rest of them.

Diavolo doesn't hate these events. They come as easy as breathing to him after centuries of doing it. But the flocking, gawking, and borderline reverent guest did get stifling. Having you on his arm made it bearable. The courtiers at least gave him some distance. Where were you anyway?

The barest flicker of black and gold muslin catches the crown prince's eye. The expensive fabric flitting around the corner of the ballroom to the restricted section. He wasn't worried. Diavolo knew that outfit and the delectable scent of his most prized jewel that wore it. You were allowed anyway you wished. Though he wished you were on his arm right about now. Ah well-

He turns back to his compatriot nodding along politely at the dull topic and takes a sip from his flute. He hums delighted by the fruity dry drink. Honestly, he wasn't sure how many of these he had had anymore. But it was just as sweet and tangy as his first glass. The bubbles ticking his nose and the liquor make his head fuzzy and his stomach hot. Mmm... He would have to complement Barbatos after this was over. His experiments were simply divine. Diavolo excuses himself from his conversation partner politely. He needed another drink if he was going to have a chat as dry as that again and survive. Fresh drink in hand he scans the massive hall for you. You should have been back by now… Odd. Perhaps you had called it a night early? He can't blame you. The redundancy and boring pushes for political power did get old fast. Smiling into his bubbling glass he has half a mind to join you. Sleeping the night away with you in his arms? Hells, he just might trade the crown for a day for a bloody break.

"May I have this dance, your highness?" A petite little incubus bowed low, wrapping his tail around his leg respectfully. Diavolo blinked up from his glass. Ah, yes. The game wasn't done yet.

It takes another three hours of dancing and glad-handing before he could finally extract himself from the ballroom. His feet were sore and swollen in their tight leather confines, his formal attire becoming itchy with sweat. He was ready for bed. No, a hot bath, tea then bed. No. A hot bath with you, tea then bed. Yes, a perfect ending to make up for a sub-par party.

Your shared quarters were dark when he entered. The smoky smell of recently snuffled candles greets him as he slips in. He frowns. The outer chambers looked to be untouched. The hearth cold and empty of ash. Your evening outfit wasn't spewn over the lounge and floor like it normally would be after a ball.

You often retired early from these parties, but you always waited for him here. Nestled up in the furs in front of the fire. A warm welcoming smile ready to greet him as he enters. "My love?" Diavolo calls out to the empty room. He winces at how loud he was. Perhaps he had indulged in his cups a bit too much.

He cocks his head listening for the sounds of running water or your cute little snores. Perhaps you had already gone to sleep? Silence greets him. He begins to panic now. Were you some elsewhere in the palace? Had some oppositional little cretin tried to harm you? He knew some at his party tonight were vying for him to go back to the old ways. Eliminating you would be a prerogative to those fools.

No, Barbatos had his eyes everywhere tonight. The complex webbing of his magic was nigh impossible to circumvent. Diavolo could feel it crawling over his skin, though the feeling was fading now that he was in his private chambers. Lucifer and his brother were ever vigilant too at these parties. As much as they bickered and annoyed his other guest they were skilled watchdogs, and keeping you safe was a top priority to all of them.

He reaches out through the shadows of his chambers searching for you frantically. His magic bleeds into every corner of his large private rooms. The vice around his chest lessens when he senses you on the private balcony. He goes to you, shrugging off his collars and chains as he moves, leaving a forgotten trail of priceless treasure behind him. "Darling," he breathes a sigh of relief seeing your silhouette in the light of his realms many moons. "Was the party not to your liking?" Diavolo flops onto your shared bed with a groan of pleasure. His feet now happy to not have his weight on them anymore. He runs his fingers through the vast expanse of cold silk. It wakes him up slightly. "Perhaps I can make it up to you? I can think of quite a few things more pleasurable than a swarm of stuffy demons."

"You’re drunk Dia." You don't move to face him. Your eyes still upcast to look at the clear evening sky.

His head lolls to the side to watch you curiously. You can feel his eyes follow the trail of your hands while you stroke at the marble railing. His family crest glistening on your finger. "No, no, not drunk. Tipsy perhaps? Or is the word ‘buzzed’ more appropriate?" He chuckles. "Perhaps you could sober me up with a kiss? You always know how to make me feel amazing."

Your breath catches at his words. A pathetic little sob escaping you. He is sober now. Instead of a warm kiss alighting his muddled thoughts to bring the world back into sharp beautiful clarity, it feels as if he had been submerged in ice. He approaches you with inhuman speed. His clawed fingers were gentle on your shoulders.

He turns you to face him. Crystalline tears were trapped in your lashes. Your cheeks were ruddy and your lips were swollen.  In any other circumstance, such a visage would be a privilege to see. But these tears were cold and filled with pain. Lips red hot not by his kisses and fangs, but from nervous chewing and pulling. Your cheeks were streaked and puffy from countless hours spent alone and crying.

"Giglio mio, cosa ti affligge?" He cups your cheeks rubbing the chill away from your skin.

"Why- why do you even waste your time with me?" You hiccup.

“I don’t understand.”

You part from him, backing up to the railing. “What do you see in me?”  You ask, arm raised in question. He takes in your body. You were adorned in his colors and his scent, it makes the territorial part of him rumble in satisfaction. Your delicate human flesh radiates a warmth demons could never replicate. You were small, sweet, and his. What was he missing? “What will happen when you find someone better? Someone who will- who can grow old alongside you. A demon or witch, strong and talented.”

Your wavering words don’t register with him. How could you say these things? Did you think he would allow you to grow old without him? You were his, just as he was yours, or as much as he is able of being yours. It was a laughable thought but he knew to hold his tongue. Humans always get in a tizzy about death.“I don’t-” He starts ready to brush your concerns away. The flash of his perfect teeth only angers you.

“Do not play dumb with me!” You say jabbing a finger at his bare chest. “Look at you. Think of who you are compared to me. Look at how they all cling to you, all those pretty demons and witches with something to offer you.”

Something better than me.

The words hang unspoken between you and leave him stunned. He had so much he wished to say but knew tonight was an inopportune time. Your emotions were running high, too high for him to successfully navigate. Especially in his compromised state. He would have to admit defeat tonight. “I am sorry if I have neglected you and your feelings. Please, let's go to bed. I want- I need to understand. But-”

“You’re drunk.” You repeat chuckling without humor. You wipe at your face. “I get it. We’ll talk in the morning?”

Diavolo puts a hand to his chest. “Of course. You will have all my time tomorrow.”

You wake alone the next morning, the sheets beside you cool but not made. You expected that though. He was never one to stay in bed even on the rare days off. It was the downside of his status and routine.

You rise alone and head to the bathroom, the gargantuan space was still slightly warm and steamy. Good, that means you didn’t wake up too much later than Dia. You shower quickly, washing away the grime of lasts night’s nervous breakdown. You were so embarrassed, collapsing all over Diavolo in jealous self-pity. He had more important things to deal with than some weepy human.

You need to go find him and apologies, tell him not to worry about it. You knew what being courted by him would entail. You swore up and down you could handle it, and you could. You will. This was the worst time to falter too he had some pressing deadlines and important figureheads coming around this week. Even one loose gear in his well-oiled machine could damage any number of things. You refused to be the reason he failed. Steeling yourself, you dress quickly, determined to put your new plan in motion. Apologize, promise to do better, and then hide at R.A.D until you could face him again.

It doesn’t take you long to find your demon. He had been waiting for you. You enter the den in a flurry of movement phones in hand to check with Lucifer to see where the prince might be. “Join me?” His deep baritone makes you jump in alarm. Your phone flies out of your hands to clatter loudly on the tile floor.

Diavolo sits, sprawled out on his couch. His favorite terry cloth robe is tied loosely around his broad figure. He watches you with a growing frown, his strong jaw perched on his fist. You freeze. “Please?” He offers you his free hand. You take it timidly. He grasps you firmly and lifts you effortlessly onto his lap. You rest your head on his strong chest. He smells of juniper berries and oranges. Bright, fresh, and sharp. Their combined scents mixing with his natural musk put you at ease. The clenching panic around your heart easing slightly. You eye the breakfast layout before the two of you on the low coffee table. The banquet was still untouched though you do not know how long Dia had been sitting here. You felt the tiny pulses of magic radiating off the table.

“To keep it warm,” Diavolo answers your unspoken question. He moves you in his lap so he can reach for a plate. Filling it to the brim with an assortment of pastries and warmed jams he hands it to you before filling his coffee cup. “I didn’t know how long you wished to sleep.”  

You take the plate meekly. “I-thank you.” You eat in relative silence, eyes locked down on the treccia slowly disappearing on your plate. You were too nervous to look at Diavolo. “When do you have to get back to work?” You ask.

“I don’t-” He adds a hefty dollop of heavily whipped cream to his coffee. “I took the day off.” Your heart drops.

“I’m sorry.”

“Giglio.” Diavolo sighs heavily. He puts his coffee aside to cradle you. “Never be sorry for needing time.” His large hands rest over your thigh and shoulder. “I promised we would talk today, and I am nothing but a devil of my word.” He kisses your crown, his thumbs rubbing your skin comfortingly. “Tell me your worries.”

“What do you see in me?” You blurt out looking up at him. “What could you ever see in a human that you couldn’t get from someone closer to your stature?”

“You have something no other being has ever had before.” He answers effortlessly. He had thought about this time and time again in private. He had lost count of the nights spent in his study stewing over this very topic. You captivated him in a way he still couldn’t fully comprehend.

You scoff at the nonanswer. “What? A soul?”

Diavolo sucks his teeth in distaste. Your voice was so bitter. “Do you think I don’t have a soul?” He counters, smiling ruefully down at you.

“Do you?” You are genuinely curious. Satan had been very upfront with the fact that he didn’t and he was a full-blooded demon. When you had asked Barbatos he had just shrugged. 

Diavolo looks wistful for a moment. Golden eyes glazing over as he gets lost in thought. “Who knows?” He admits. “Souls are a precious commodity, true. But such things mean very little to me when it comes to you. No, the thing you have is my trust. You came here with nothing and expected nothing of me but a safe and successful exchange program. There was no social climbing or cloak and daggers with you- or perhaps you are so skilled I cannot see it!” His chuckle shakes you both. “I feel as though you do not see me as just a prince, yet you still respect the title, the authority, and the customs that come along with it. You see what I have to offer and don’t ask for more than I can give you.”

“What will happen when you find that I no longer do that for you? When someone else could do it better and give you eternity along with it?” His words bring you hope, but hope did little when you knew the inevitable outcome.

“Why would I look when I am more than happy where I am?” He dodges your question. He would cross that bridge and bear that cross when you find out on your own.

“But-”

He hushes you with a flurry of kisses across your face, dipping low over you. You squeak as he dangles you precariously over the side of the leather couch. “Come, eat with me.” He says between kisses. “Enjoy a day away from the prying eyes of scorned socialites. Let me show you how devoted I am.” He releases you to pick up a piece of bruschetta. Popping it into his mouth with a groan of satisfaction he turns back to the cooling food, his jovial mood returning. You huff, flicking off a stray bit of diced tomato from his chin.

“Fine- as long as you let me help you catch up on all the work you're missing tomorrow.”  

[snowpeawritings]

As Long-Standing As The Earth

Every day, Zhongli stares down at a little cube. The cor lapis-colored thing humming with Geo energy as the little dial that shows on one side slowly ticks.

When the dial reaches its peak, Zhongli feels like the earth is alive again.

Reader is gender neutral

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Reincarnation AU, Modern AU, Zhongli character story spoilers, blood warning

❄ Snowpea’s words: LET’S GO ZHONGLI BANNER DROPPING TOMORROW I WROTE 2K WORDS LIKE I PROMISED--

The first time he held the little cube, you were dying in his arms.

It shouldn't shake him, he thinks. He is the god of war, death became a norm when mortals and archons alike are associated with him. He is the long-standing pillar that brought his army to victory. Just like the earth that continues to stand, just like his energy that reshaped the land, he will not bow to whatever danger his immortal lifetime will experience.

It shouldn't shake him. It shouldn't shake his hands when he holds your lifeless corpse, your blood running down his skin like water weathering down stone. It shouldn't.

Yet it does. Each stream of blood crumbled his visage, eyes pleading at your dead ones to see if you will laugh at how ridiculous he looks. He would take any sort of jest from you just to see you that you were even capable of making jokes while bleeding out.

You never did.

And just like sand, he crumpled down onto the earth, hoping that he would be swallowed in when the gods took you away from him.

The second time he held the cube, it was when he used it for the first time.

He remembers it fondly; you were pledged to him beyond Teyvat's mortal realms, as a god and a mortal who were sworn to each other. You joked about it, saying you two were practically married to each other and wondered if he hated the fact that he had been tied down to a mortal.

Before, he would've laughed at the thought and said that you were silly.

He wished he could've done more than just laugh at your insecurities.

The Guili Plains were slowly coming to life as he spent his energy on making his abode. You mentioned to him before that you would've loved to sit back and eat your favorite cuisine underneath a red tree, surrounded by water as the sound of nature encompasses your dining wonderfully. He had hoped that the tree in the center was big enough for you to see.

As if realizing his fondness, a little cube-no bigger than his palm-glowed from his pocket. It hummed with elemental energy as he gasped at the dial pointing at its peak.

Terraforming would have to wait.

Ever since the Archon War, he began to loathe being an archon.

He sees old friends come and go or worse, die during the war. It wouldn't be a surprise that he was used to death.

No… that's not how he would describe it.

He was used to loneliness…?

Close.

Ah, he grew tired of being lonely. He supposes that was an agreeable feeling to describe him. The price of him wanting to end his loneliness was a price his heart couldn't bear. He was a smart god, cleverly providing strategies in order to gain the upper hand in the war. 

Clearly, he wasn't smart enough to know the long-term consequences of his need.

The gods had warned him and he stood his ground as resolute as the mountains of Liyue.

The bustling village greeted his sight. Newcomers of Liyue and old villagers walked around, giving space for him to walk. Whether it was fear or admiration towards the archon, he couldn't care less. He set sight on a rather large house, its windows and doors opened for the public as wounded laid down on cots. Victims of people attempting to colonize Liyue, Treasure Hunters, or the sad case of Hilichurls, he couldn't care less.

He spots the aura of yellow energy before he could properly see the person. They were wearing a nurse's outfit, caked with blood and unknown grime from treating patients. Yet he never saw a more beautiful sight.

He approaches you and he feels the cube in his hand vibrate in tune with your aura. Making a deal with the devils be damned, he can never throw this opportunity away because he was an immortal.

"Oh, hello sir!" You greeted him and he felt the earth tremble slightly from your voice. "What can I help you with?"

He smiled at you, placing his palm in front of his chest pocket where the cube hummed. "My name is Zhongli. I heard that you are an excellent doctor?"

The third time he held the cube, he nearly threw it away along with his past.

He was no longer Morax, or Rex Lapis. He was just Zhongli, the head of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

It was ironic, to be connected to a place of death and moving on when he tries to do the same thing. Not once did the thought of moving on never crossed his mind. Not once did the thought of giving up his life never crossed his mind because he was so tired.

His past seemed just as resolute as the earth, he thinks bitterly.

The cube that he wanted so badly to discard still kept reappearing in his sight. Whether throwing it outside the window or burning it in the fireplace or even chucking it at the Chasm. It doesn't matter, it keeps reappearing like it was gloating at him. Like it was sneering at him as it reminds him about this perpetual curse that follows him until his dying breath.

But that doesn't matter at the moment. He has a job to do as the head for doing the rite of passing. He follows the Traveler to the floral boutique, wanting to buy the best Silk Flowers for Rex Lapis's passing.

How fitting.

Before he could try to get a word out for the history of Silk Flowers, his words got trapped in his throat. He sees the same yellow aura that he associated with the color of Geo. No matter how much time has passed, he knows those vibrant colors anywhere. The cube inside his coat hummed annoyingly like it was trying for him to do something. You were blissfully unaware of his longing stare, busy trying to barter against a merchant for the cheapest price of cor lapis.

Oh, how much he wanted to march right next to you and barter with the merchant himself, say that the cor lapis he sold couldn’t hold a candle to the aura that you emitted, that he was willing to put the price of the cor lapis on his tab because you were worth it--

"Mr. Zhongli?" The Traveler's travelling companion asks. "Are you okay?"

He ignores them, chest tightening at the thought of seeing his love for the third time. "I… lost my thought. I apologize."

Stand as resolute as the earth, Zhongli scolds himself. You can't stay like this forever.

... Forever is nothing compared to an archon, though.

After having dinner with the Traveler with a smooth rite of passing, he would've loved to take Barbatos's advice and drink until he can't think.

The fourth time he held the cube, it was when he felt his powers slipping away.

The times have changed, he fears, for the Statues of the Seven slowly dwindled out until they were almost ruined. The age of metal and alchemy conquered Teyvat instead of the elemental energy and Visions that people possessed. He couldn't heal using the broken down Statues but at least he could share one last drink with Barbatos before the inevitable.

"You should see them build the first plane!" He said excitedly as he downed his umpteenth drink. "Looks like they don't need the winds from their archon anymore!"

Somehow, he wishes he could share Barbatos's anguished laughter as he drank himself into forgetfulness.

The age of innovation grew higher and higher towards its peak while Zhongli's powers grew lower and lower. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't mind it.

Anything to get rid of the blasted cube.

He gave up trying to get rid of it. Gave up on trying to find his love when the dial hits its peak. If giving away his gnosis meant that the cube would no longer work, he would. Even more so with the depletion of everyone's belief at Archons.

He hopes.

Alas, it appears Celestia would laugh at Zhongli's hopes, for when the cube glowed for another time, he nearly tore his hair out.

How many lifetimes? How many more heartbreaks? How many more funeral rites?

And yet he seemed to be the biggest fool despite being the eldest Archon, for when he sees you, an inventor innovating the new gadgets for tomorrow, he felt the earth beneath his feet tremble.

He missed this feeling.

"Hello sir!" You greeted him with enthusiasm that he wished he could relate to. "Care to see the future of mankind?"

He is the biggest fool there was. "I would love to."

And he may as well die as a fool.

The fifth time he held the cube, he was only fidgeting it around.

Funeral parlors were becoming commonplace but not a lot of customers. With globalization and the new funeral trends being used, people have mixed feelings about having such an expensive and extravagant rite of passing.

And it also doesn't help that he gets confused when some people don't even bother asking for his services. They just stare at him with a wiggly smile on their lips.

Regardless, he won't look a gift horse in the mouth. He sees the dial on its peak but he doesn't pay heed to it. He gave up. With how many people there are and newer countries emerging, he lost hope.

No, more like he doesn't care anymore.

It was probably an insult to you-no-it was a clear insult and it was scary that he doesn't care anymore. He can't be the man that existed before, assisting the Traveler and Childe. He can't be the broken down Archon that shared drinks with Barbatos. He was so goddamn tired that he deserves this sanctuary.

If he could even call it that.

And yet, he persisted. Not for Guizhong, not for you, but for himself.

He takes his time with his tea, relishing in the flavors as he used this time to calm himself. The sounds of the clock ticking, the ceramic of his cup hitting the table, and the distant sound of birds chirping were all welcomed to his ears. It appears that his daily tea rituals haven't changed at all ever since he was born.

As he sips up the last bit of his tea, a knock broke him out of his concentration. He allowed entry.

An employee under him bowed before straightening his back. "Mr. Zhongli, you have a customer."

He sets down the cup. "Bring them in."

The employee nodded at him before walking back to fetch the customer. He fixes his tie and moves his finished tea away, wanting to look best for the customer.

Hearing an extra set of footsteps, he raised his head to greet the customer but he felt the earth tremble.

Maybe Celestia had enough of his sulking as he sees you smile at him like the first of you smiled at the archon all those millenia ago.

"Hello, Mr. Zhongli," you greeted and his name never sounded so poisonously sweet in his ears, "I hope you aren't too busy with what I have to ask…"

He may as well start his own funeral rites for himself.

He takes a while before composing himself, not meeting your eyes as he gestured to the vacant seat on his left side. He can’t meet your eyes even when you sat down and smiled politely at him. It felt like his heart stopped, then jump started like an engine.

“So, um…” You said, fiddling with the tips of your fingers and Zhongli had to resist the urge to take your hands in his. “Mr. Zhongli, I was hoping that I could ask you something.”

He steeled his spine in order to not show the shiver he felt when he heard you say his name. Gods, when has it been that your past reincarnation said his name? Even in a non-romantic way? “Well, as long as it is within the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s power, I’ll do what I can.”

This time, you averted your eyes from him, your hand moving to scratch the back of your neck. “About that… it’s not really something related to the funeral parlor perse…”

He raised his brow, your nervousness almost easing him. “Oh?”

Your face flushed and Zhongli can’t help but feel his heart race just like before. “It’s ah… It’s just that I have a research thesis that I’m doing and for some reason, the people I’ve asked recommended you.”

He slightly deflated, then wondered why he felt disappointment in the first place. “A research thesis? Pertaining about...?”

You immediately perked up and you reached out from behind you. Your bag was sitting behind you, smooshed against the chair as Zhongli watched you curiously. From your backpack, you fished out a laptop, a heavy history book, a slim book, two notebooks, and a pencil case that’s practically bursting at the seams with stationery. You set them down on the table, the force clattering the plates but nothing was spilled.

You booted up your laptop, getting one of your notebooks and grabbing a pen. When the laptop finally booted up, you logged in and presented Zhongli what was on the screen.

He felt the earth tremble from his knee knocking up against the table.

‘History of Rex Lapis And Their Influence On The Modern World’

“I’m a huge fan of history, you see!” You explained quickly, grabbing the large book that shows an old copy of Rex Lapis Incognito, a book that he hasn’t seen a while. “I really appreciate everything that the old archons did for the world, even if people don’t believe in them anymore. I especially have a fondness for the adepti but they’re even more forgettable-but I don’t mean it in a bad way! I want to write this with intentions of people remembering what both archons and adepti did for Teyvat…”

He zoned out soon after you said ‘history’. He wasn’t the type to pray for a blessing when, after all, you’re a literal god. But it comes to a time where, after heartbreak after heartbreak, he grows tired and soon goes numb. He thought he hardened his heart ever since he subjected himself to this but it appears even bedrock can be reduced to dust.

He let out a small, shaky breath before raising his head. That doesn’t matter now. He was Zhongli, used to be adeptus, used to be archon, but now: a man.

He couldn’t be any happier.

“I admire your fondness for researching ancient history.” He said, cutting off your rambling. “I may not be as knowledgeable as any other book, but I will try my best. We should speak about this somewhere else, though. It would be dreadful to speak in a funeral parlor.”

Just like terraforming, he can be rebuilt.

[apossessionadaybreak]

Family Bonding

I couldn’t stop grinning when I woke up today. Maybe it was the sun shining through the window, or the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen, or the strong, virile body I was wearing. I laughed, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of days since I hopped into this host but every moment spent in him was further proof that I had made the correct choice. It hadn’t been easy cornering him but week after week of playing the part of his coworker, slowly gaining his trust, had all finally led to this moment. I strutted around the room, a ridiculous one-man parade, a treat meant only for my eyes. I stood before the mirror and beheld my lovely form, feeling something begin to stir and strain against my briefs as I did so. Oh, did I feel good. But it was still early, there was plenty to do, places to be, and a lot more masquerading to do. I patted my member as it stiffened in its cloth prison. Perhaps, if I still remained unsatisfied at the end of the day.

I opened the door and walked into the rest of the house. Yes, yes, all of it lovely, all of it in order, all of it mine. I strode into the living room to see a young man having breakfast.

"Morning son," I called out in my strong voice. “Thanks for the coffee,” I boomed again as I helped myself to a fresh cup.

He nodded, hesitantly perhaps? I made a mental note of the way he looked at me today, and didn’t like what I saw. Uncertainty, unease. No that wouldn’t do at all. I resolved to be a better father as I walked up to where he sat.

“What are you doing on this fine Saturday?” I said, slapping him on the back as I did so. He winced, but gave a wan smile. “Grandpa’s coming over to pick me up, we’re going fishing.”

My jaw clenched but I continued smiling even as I felt a low, cold fury building up inside me. “He’s coming over?”

“Yeah, in fact, any minute now. Let me go get my stuff, I want to be ready to leave when he comes.” He grabbed his phone as he walked to his room, closing the door just a tad faster than normal. Something was not right. No, I thought darkly, nothing was right about this. A stern expression came over my face as I closed my eyes. Focus, I just needed some time to think, with this mind I could work out what I needed to do. I clenched my fists, and grit my teeth as I pondered. My father, my own father, the man who raised me, betraying me like this? How could he not tell me he was coming over? Sweat formed on my furrowed brow as I fumed, trying, failing to cool me off. I forced myself to breathe, to take my time. Certainly this was an affront to my senses but any one who saw me like this would think I had gone insane, becoming this worked up over nothing at all. But I had spent this long, worked this hard, only for that bumbling fool to come along and mess with things. I tried to console myself it would only be for an afternoon, no time at all really but inside my heart I knew I was lying to myself. I had become obsessed with this young man, this youth who was now my son. Having him listen to me, talk to me, look up to me, it was heaven. That had been another reason for taking this host, besides his obvious merits. How could I compete with the old man? He was my senior in every way. I couldn’t allow my son to be stolen away under my nose like that. Then again, this father of mine, it was his blood that coursed through my veins, the one who gave me this strong heart to beat his blood through my veins. I grinned, the solution had been so obvious, how could I have been so blind? I shook my head to myself in disbelief, how foolish I had been to not see the enormity of this golden opportunity on a silver plate. The doorbell rang, and I grinned, things were falling into place, everything would be in order, no, they would be even better than before. I heard the sound of my son’s door being opened.

“Is that Grandpa?” I heard his voice.

“Let me check” I hollered back, chuckling to myself as I did so.

Sure enough when I checked the peephole, I saw the familiar visage of my father, my old man standing outside, patiently waiting. I opened the door.

“Hiya Pops.”

“Oh, morning son. Hope you don’t mind, I planned to take Nate fishing. You can come along too if you want!” He laughed to himself, a hearty roar, like a large ashy fire. I marvelled at the sound and subconsciously licked my lips. I could barely contain my excitement.

“Sounds great Pops, I may just join you two but I’ve got something to show you. Come in, come in, we can talk more in my room.”

He graciously accepted my invitation as I undid the locks. Smiling to myself, I chained the gate and shut the door, making sure there was no way anyone could come in, or out. 

I led the way to my room, opening the door for my father. He stepped in imperiously, with the air of a man who had gotten his way all his life. Not arrogant, it was just how things worked when you were as loved and respected as he was.

“Alright son, what did you want to tell me?”

I smiled, my eyes lighting up with genuine joy.

“Hold still old man.”

I saw the barest frown begin to form on his face as his brow furrowed in puzzlement. He began to open his mouth to ask the question I knew was forming in his mind. I knew what he was going to say. I didn’t care, instead I lunged at his throat. He choked in a mixture of shock, panic, and utter confusion. He spluttered as he tried to yell out but the cry died in his throat as I held on, my penetrating gaze boring deep into his eyes. He whimpered slightly as he stared back, his pupils rapidly dilating, his normally half-shut eyes now open wide in terror and awe. I had him. I tilted my head back and began to push myself out. Slowly, surely, I unstuck the various parts of myself from within my host. My spectral form tore free from the muscle and bone it had been so deeply encased in for the past few days. I felt his senses began to leave me as his limbs grew numb and his eyes grew dull as I continued to detach myself. My host gagged as he coughed up more and more of my essence. I sighed, apparently even in death I could not escape from certain problems. When I had been alive I had been a large man. Now, I certainly had the spirit to match, just not always the body to go along with it. This vessel had been fairly accommodating, if a bit of a squeeze. The remnants of my ghostly belly bubbled up from my host’s, leaving only my tail to wiggle around in his throat. Just another oddity of being a ghost, though I supposed there was little need for legs if one could just as easily hover over the ground. I rubbed my plump hands together in anticipation. But I couldn’t leave just yet. I clutched on to my hefty paunch, digging in to grab handfuls of ectoplasm. Turning to my host with a loving look, I gently laid it over his face. It jiggled there momentarily, before sinking through his nose, his eyes, and soon it was pouring through every available orifice, heading straight for his brain. I felt the welcome return of his sight, his touch, his taste, though they were different now, faded in a way. No matter, so long as I still retained control, still dictated every breath he took, every step he made. Having finished the necessary preparations, I turned back to the old man. His shallow breaths indicated he was still under, still waiting but close, too close to consciousness. I smiled, a fighter, he would serve me well. I rubbed my hands together once again, straightening them out as far as they would go. Using my hosts’s mouth as a makeshift springboard, I lifted myself into the air, and dove straight into the old man’s open jaw.

Oh, what a RUSH. I could feel him, his spirit as it thrashed away, aware of this foreign presence, this threat to itself. I tunneled further, deeper still, pushing past the walls of red and white to the soft ethereal core. In one smooth motion, I grabbed onto it as I swung myself upright using the momentum I had gained, and pressed my own into it. It shuddered as it felt the unwelcome intrusion, the way it unwillingly yielded to take in mine, the way it could do nothing but accept me.

I opened my eyes, feeling a brand new set of senses fill my consciousness, swamping me with new information. I closed my eyes as I drank it all in, gluttonously sucking in as much as I could. More, more, more. I choked, opening my eyes involuntarily as I huffed a few short pants. Looking at me lovingly... was me. Even now as I looked at him, I could also see him looking at me through his eyes. We smiled in unison, lips curling up perfectly in sync. I smirked and he did as well. I laughed, and the bass of our voices layered effortlessly with each other, bouncing around the room. Together, we began to unbutton our shirts, unbuckle our belts. As the clothes slipped off our bodies we tumbled onto the nearby couch, staring at each other, scarcely breathing as we gazed at each other’s beauty. As the old man, I laid down first, slowly curling my back while still ensuring I could see my son. As my son, I brought my hairy body atop my father’s. We shivered, feeling the way our fur, our skin, brushed against each other, every contact a small jolt of pleasure. We looked at each other, entranced. It was understood what was to be done, no words needed to be said.

---

I stepped out of the room as the old man. Strong as these bodies were, the rapid sequence of activity had drained the younger. It was time for me to rest, but also time for me to continue my day afresh, with the adrenaline rush of a new host. I stepped out into the living room to see a young man sitting on the couch, staring at his phone. He looked up as I approached.

“Grandpa! You’re here!” He said, surprised. I closed my eyes from the abrupt rush as he addressed me, so trusting, so sincere.

“Sorry son,” I rumbled, “didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Had some matters to discuss with your dad.”

“Oh.” His face fell as he cast his eyes downwards. I frowned but stayed silent, sensing he wanted to say something.

“About dad... he’s been acting kind of weird lately. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Ah, so that was the problem. I patted myself on the back mentally, clearly I was on a streak of good decisions, making all the right moves.

“Don’t you worry about that son, we’ll have plenty of time to talk on the boat. Now let’s go fishing.” I saw him relax as he raised his head to smile at me. He got up from the couch and started to the door. I clapped a giant hand onto his shoulder, turning my head to give him a knowing wink.

[raccoons-inked-quill]

Stroll to Ingloslaght

Desc:

After months of being rejected for his morbid countence,the creature seeks revenge for his woes,now proceeding to Ingloslaght, to end the one who had this disaster all begun.

On his way,however,he stops for directions from a man seemingly in a bit of a predictament, having lost his glasses,a perfect and treasured opportunity to converse sans considering his frightening appearance

Author notes:

My God i wrote this like. Months ago and then got stuck hdhdhd. I may continue as a second chapter later? But I left the ending a tad open ended since I got stuck on it so long.

For weeks I treaded amongst the depths of the woods ,my grotesque figure hidden from the likes of man's gaze by the fortunate shade. And for what reason must I so meticulously lurk in these dreaded woodlands, woven through thorns and branches,to preserve my sight from humanity? The very burning passion that has kept me on my feet ,who's written words regarding myself have sent me on this prolonged travels. It was this man himself,by the name of Victor Frankenstein, whom had so cruelly sculpted me into my detestable shape. And it was that very man I treaded onwards in hopes he will be sought out. That for being forsaken to dispose existence upon me in this wretched condition by his own hands,he will pay with the likes of his own life.

After such  travels, my fruition drew closer. I arrived to the borders of Ingloslaght. What an enlightening  concoction had ignited within me then. I was grappled and willingly overtaken by rage and euphoria,but yet a vaguely present melancholy festered  despite my wishes for it to abstain.

Then proceeded a new realization within me. I knew the man by name,but not by his appearance. Only scarce remnants of the man I remember. Youth still very much blessed his visage, yet at the same time,he in no manner was remotely vigorous. The man held a starking contrast in the fact that he nonetheless appeared entirely unkempt  and teetering on the brinks of life and death much too early if his youthful features stood true.

It was by these aspects alone I must go by,as all else in my mind I only recall as a blur,and that leaves me a far too broad description. 

My conclusion, was that I must  temporarily reveal myself in order to acquire where the fool resided. I had an inkling of an idea given by the brief details provided in his journal. He attended university, and his teachings he received was made up of atleast two professors. Krempe and Waldman. This aside,I knew I soon will be forced to inquire to someone amongst mankind,likely by force given I know well enough my looks will not provide me to any civil conversation.

It was by this thought my vehement dedication was temporarily stunted by dread.

I was moved to only scratch the brinks of the town,and could not bring myself to any confrontation even when opportunity seemed fit. Everytime,I found myself grow close to presenting myself,only to draw gingerly away. The only hope that spared my sense of confidence was that I came closer to enacting out this deed when I thought out my motivations, of avenging myself by the fated and horrid death of Victor Frankenstein . 

For once life granted me a faithful advantage,one that had so fortunately removed the need to inquire upon a member of humanity with the complexities that came with force. Whilst making my typical rounds around the outer trails of Ingloslaghts nature,I stumbled upon a pair of glasses that had evidently not been there long,as there was a lack of dirt and cracks upon it that would not be possible if it were there for more then a day.

I glanced forwards,and immediately met whom I assumed to be their owner. I froze in my posture as the young man had glanced upon me,surely certain that he would remark in terror upon my ghastly form. Then enthrallingly,he only smiled politely. He spoke in a language I couldn't seem to make sense of,so I had quite discomfortedly added that I could not make sense of him in my native tongue. To yet more of my surprise,he seemed to  light up upon hearing it,recognizing it as if it were his own.

"Sir! Hello,it seems I may have to request of you some help,if you don't take it as too much a grievance. I seem to have misplaced something gravely vital,my glasses,and I was wondering if you had caught sight of it."

I couldn't seem to place my finger on the particular origin of his accent, but I had assumed it to be to some form of a French speaking country. I picked up the glasses from where they lay perched in the ground,my grasp on them light.

"Afraid not." I responded.  

"Do you think it will be much trouble to you on your own ? It seems that you've been rendered utterly blind without them,it will be of no trouble to my time to lend aid."

The man's eyes took a final glance at the ground below,as what I had considered to be  his  last resort. Of course, the poor soul had resigned his search  and looking displeased but nonetheless unsurprised,he sheepishly nodded.

"I assume I'll be forced to manage,I have a spare somewhere at home." He concluded with a faint disappointment 

"I think I may have caught sight of a glimmer not too far off the trail here,some sort of glass."

This statement had gotten his attention,as he ever so slightly had tilted his head in intrigue

"Oh! Would you mind to show me where you'd spotted it?"

I cheerfully obliged, indulging him in the lie I had swiftly constructed. It would be simple and quick, I reasoned, to quickly converse with this man about the whereabouts of my wretched creator. I had thought to myself that he hadn't appeared much older in comparison, a part of me took an unnerving familiarity in him,thus I assumed this reasoning to be a fair explanation. 

He wobbled forwards,his balance faltering on more than one instance. If not already clear by his absent remarks acknowledging my form,the way he had stumbled forwards in absolute obliviousness to his surroundings had distinguished it well enough. Easily I took pity upon the fellow,as he unlike Delacey hadn't frequented the ability to navigate without the sense of sight.

Evidently he was mildly displeased with the aid,more in resent towards having come off needy. He made certain it wasn't in direction towards myself,as the faint polite smile had returned to his face when he had looked upon me.

"I apologize,you must find yourself vexed to be so suddenly tied to these tasks. I hope I haven't burdened your walks,or whatever finds you out here in these trails."

"I reside not far off from here,in not much more then a humble hut,but it is a temporary abode. There is no place i find myself long."

"Ah,a traveler,I presume?"

I analyzed this title placed onto me,and found it a fair summary. Since the Delacey's,there is truly no place shall I find myself confined,I must always be in travel,to preserve myself from the likes of man. A tinge of frustration had emerged within me,and once more i was reminded of what I was in need of doing.

"I suppose so. But there is.."

I had struggled to put to proper words,a fair description to my enemy without revealing suspicion in such open malice.

"Someone,in which I plan to visit."

He nodded once more,that grin still on his face,strangly its formal politeness presented as if it were something he had long rehearsed,as if he found the intricacies of small talk alike to following the script of a play.

 Although I found my task to be in dire need of proceeding too,I felt the desire to converse further. As it is with no other  since Delacey I had experience to even a brief casual exchange as this. I took graciously to not waste the rarity of the moment,where I would not be taken in my grotesque glory,but as if I were no more revoltingly significant then any other human individual.

"I must ask myself,it is rare that I am to witness any other walk amongst these parts. What is it that has  lead you here?"

He trailed down to look upon his hands, which rested a leathered notebook in one and a  twirling quill in another,spinning with a repetitive motion.

"It is these parts that my dearest friend Henry has frequently visited and discussed fondly of. He is a man who partakes immensely in the pleasures of its nature.

I cannot repay the abundance of compassion he has recently displaced upon me. I am not too well in demonstrating my care,as passionate as it comes. However, I reckoned it would please him if I had sketched out these places,as a souvenir."

"I may confess,that I often am lead to consider my life nothing more then wretched,but it is in nature in which none are spared of its serenity that I find peace. I am certain he will find much appreciation in it permanently preserved. Do you mind if I see it?"

He chuckled then,clearly happy i had taken interest ,and he had shifted from his rehearsed nature to something that appeared to be more geniune. 

"Certainly! Though I haven't quite finished nor fixed its mistakes,and I can't seem to do so in my current condition"

I took the notebook from my remaining free hand,my other still enveloped around his  glasses to prevent revealing their shape,which I reckoned he would distinguish in the blur.

Haphazardly, I had found myself on his stated works. Of course,there on the page remained an illustration that had captured the epitome of our surroundings embodied by a diverse array of ink strokes. I smiled on it fondly,taking much fascination in its dedication. In this admiration I found a sense of tragedy. What anomaly had I befallen then! 

Mankind had possesed the likes to bring into reality  the upmost wonderous of creations,how fascinating do I find this feeble man's illustrations,of which intricately demonstrate the scenery before us embodied with its own sense of beauty. More on this I reminisced,beyond that of this particular man. How oft had I become to being moved by the words of Milton and Goethe,which they had just alike he before me, in their own manner intimately captured the complexities of the world accompanied by their own beauty. It was by mankind's creations  had built the backs of my own character, and made a good expanse to my knowledge. How cruel is it,then,that just as capable of bestowing this lovely artistry,that one outlier had fabricated the wretch that is myself, exempt from the beloved due to how morbidly I was devised.

"Im more than certain your friend will find themselves pleased,you have an immense talent.  I hope you dont find this rude, may I request on you a favor?" 

The man grinned still ,pleased by the praise,but had once again paused to construct a response to what had followed.

"You may,i suppose i do owe you one for the troubles. Though I am not sure if I am in position to do what you request."

"Its simply no more then a nagging question"

I had looked towards him to say this,and again I had been struck with a surreal distant familiarity to this man's features. Infesting my mind with an entourage of haunting explanation. The frail face of the man,in the same nature of distant memory evidently young yet prematurely frail and worn. "Have i irked you?"

The man interupted

"It is not thus,no manner have I been disturbed,rather simply I am lost in a rather unrelated contemplation"

"What must that be?"

I found it proper then to ask,as much I had appreciated the time spent in engaging conversation, I must not let the topic at hand i had brought myself forth in confronting this man to be forgotten so wrecklessly. It would be soon enough that one would tire of this conversation and he may request of a continued search in his spectacles that I held within my hand to his lacking knowledge.  

"Do you know of a Victor Frankenstein?"

"Know of?"

Theres a bewilderment in his voice.

"I am Victor Frankenstein."

In this abhorrent revelation, the glasses, once held quietly in my grasps, cracked from the palms of my despicably putrid hands,piercing skin. A putrid nature only given to me by the young man before me. This wretched boy's countence,by no surprise to his timid nature,shifted to a cowardly form. A realization,though not yet of my identity.

"Were those my glasses?"

He remarked,distressed.

In this flurry of a moment,I came to a response. An excuse no less,the boy would continue to live in obliviousness. 

"Id stepped on them,it seems,I'm dreadfully sorry to that."

"Oh,thats-thats-uh..rather unfortunate."

He had come to a loss of words, he was quiet,his hand now anxiously squeezing his arm in what was presumed an unconscious effort by cause of his ever growing anxiousness.

"I  do have a spare at home though I really would hate to inconvenience you more with this task at hand then I already did. Though I think its a rather potent risk of me to try and return by my lonesome. My vision is absolutely poor,and without them I am rendered close to blind."

I was fairly indecisive, this man before me. That whom brought upon  my miseries,now by his lonesome was in evident need of attendance, mine specifically as we stood alone,although in that lies the issue that the wretch stood none the wiser that  I am vehemently scorned by his faults.

I should find this a perfect opportunity in evoking destruction, of letting out my more cruel nature that he too held to creating by his neglectful devices.  Yet all the same,I was hesitant in acting forth my vengence. Perhaps,if I move him further off from the sights of the town,I may find better opportunity and courage in his killing.

"I can attend to that. Though if you may see this option fit,I would have drastic preference that I am to partake in the sceneic walk. I am alike you an admirer of nature,and one whom does not fair well amougst the vast crowds of townsfolk. "

He gave no verbal reply to this,instead,he gestured out to extend his arm,to which I obliged in holding rather awkwardly. Off we had proceeded,towards the depths of the woods to which no man would follow. Perhaps,my hesitancy would leave me then.