#AU: Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

padfootagain · 3 months ago

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Love in Verses (XVII)

Chapter 17 : ‘Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open’

Hi! Here is new chapter! Some cuteness and bounding between our MC and Andrew…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3483

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

It was early

It was early, which has always been my hour to begin looking at the world

and of course, even in the darkness, to begin listening to it,

especially under the pines where the owl lives and sometimes calls out

as I walk by, as he did on this morning. So many gifts!

What do they mean? In the marshes where the pink light was just arriving

the mink with his bristle tail was stalking the soft-eared mice,

and in the pines the cones were heavy, each one ordained to open.

Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed.

Little mink, let me watch you. Little mice, run and run. Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open.

Mary Oliver, Evidence, 2009

The rain made a reassuring rhythm as it fell on rooftops and windowpanes. It was kind of perfect for today’s ventures through bookstores with Andrew. You both had books to buy, had decided to go together. Of course, you had two titles in mind, and had already five books in your arms. As per usual.

By your side, Andrew was softly humming. A habit of his, you had discovered. One that came through when he was fully relaxed and happy, a sign of contentment. Today’s tune was fitting the moody weather and the warmth of bookshops. Autumn in New York…

“Andy… I need your professional expertise.”

He looked up at you, glasses perched on his nose, hair tied back but loose curls still fell around his face, a couple of them hiding his right eye and the freckle above it. He looked welcoming, warm, like a blanket and hot cocoa in winter, like the cracking of fire in the hearth of a safe home.

“Devotion, Mary Oliver?” you asked, holding up the book in your hand.

He grinned.

“A must-read, obviously. Breathtaking. I have a copy though, if you want to borrow it. It’s a good selection of her poetry.”

“Would you say I will want to go back to it constantly after I’ve read it?”

“I do go back to it often,” he conceded, and you heaved a sigh.

You placed it on the pile of books that was slowly but surely growing in your arms.

“You have a terrible influence on me,” you sighed, making him roll his eyes.

“I’m merely answering your question.”

“My bank account hates you and your reliable recommendations, just so you know.”

“I’ve finished The Song of Achilles, by the way,” Andrew mentioned it as if it was but a detail, but you noticed the smile he was trying to refrain.

“And?”

“It was… good.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, making him laugh.

“Alright, alright… I liked it a lot, actually.”

“How much did you cry?”

“What makes you think I cried at all?”

“Huh… because you have a beating heart, obviously?”

You saw the glimmer in his eyes, the tug of a cheeky smile on his lips that he tried to hide. You knew he was going to make a stupid joke, and that you would fall for it and laugh.

“How do you know I have one?”

“You’re alive,” you answered, playing along as you narrowed your eyes.

“So you think! I am actually un-dead. You foolish mortals should quake in fear before me.”

“How do you hide the smell of decomposition so well, then?” you asked back, and you noticed the way he was surprised by your answer, the absolute thrill he had because you were yielding into his dark humour.

“Perfume. Like the French.”

“You know it’s a myth.”

“Is it?”

“No idea.”

“I learned from the best, in the 1600s, when it grew out of fashion to stink.”

“So, what are you? A zombie?”

“No, I’m not! I’m not a brainwashed decomposing corps, how dare you?”

“Because you think you’re a vampire?”

“I would be a grand vampire!”

“Definitely a tall one, for sure.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, struggling so hard not to laugh you knew he had stopped breathing.

“Careful, mortal.”

“What are you gonna do? Sink your teeth in my jugular? Well, go ahead!”

You offered your neck to him, were surprised when his smile faltered and he fiercely blushed while staring at the skin you were now exposing.

“Besides, I’m sure I would get rid of you easily,” you teased again, replacing your scarf as it was before, and Andrew seemed to be breathing once more.

“You seem to doubt my vampiric powers to an annoying degree,” he went on again, following you as you walked further down the poetry section, before you’d stop again to look at another shelf of the same aisle.

“Hmm… maybe you are a vampire, indeed,” you pouted, acting like pondering a question. “I bet your white arse does get burned at the smallest ray of sunshine.”

Andrew couldn’t refrain his laughter anymore, it came out in a loud wave, the sound alone making you grin.

“Right, that’s right,” he nodded, doubling with laughter.

“Crispy bacon, I bet.”

His laughter came back renewed in a new wave. It lit up the entire shop, even the world beyond it.

“I cook in the sun,” he nodded, trying to calm down although his words still came out distorted by the lack of air in his lungs. “I become edible, at one point.”

You laughed too, bright and happy, the way you felt with Andy that rainy afternoon.

You didn’t have a care in the world in that moment. Basking in your shared laughter over some silly jokes, in a bookshop you loved, spending all the money you could have saved for later in life, but who cared about later? There was Andy laughing, the pile of books under his arm, the light reflected on his glasses, the pitter patter of the rain. Wasn’t that enough to fill up a world? An entire life?

You were so glad he was your friend now…

“You didn’t answer. How much did you cry?” you asked again, picking up a book, but placing it back on the bookshelf almost immediately, not liking how it looked.

“Quite a lot,” he finally admitted.

“Told you, you would. What did you think?”

He heaved a sigh, and you knew what was coming. You knew he was about to babble away for ten minutes and analyse everything in depth and question the changes made compared to the Iliad, and be too clever for his own good… He was an academic, after all.

He did exactly as you had predicted, you smiled the entire time, discussing some points with him, giving your opinion which he listened to attentively, bouncing back on your arguments to carry the conversation further. And you loved it. Every second of it. Being challenged that way about a book you had loved made your brain buzz in the best way.

You heaved a dreamy sigh, turning towards the shelves filled to the brim with books to buy.

“Oh, but can you imagine though? What it must feel like to have someone loving you that much?”

You ran your fingers across the spines of books before you, read a few titles; it was like touching dreams.

“Do you imagine what it must feel like to write about love that way? To love someone so much you write about them? To have someone writing about you?”

You smiled, a soft gesture as you let your hand fall back by your side.

“What else could we write about, though?”

You turned to Andrew, surprised by his sudden silence, and found him staring at you with an unreadable expression, you weren’t sure whether he was sad or simply deep in thoughts. You noted the red on his cheeks, though.

He seemed to hesitate, his lips parting, and then closing again.

“Like that could happen to us,” you laughed at your own silly thoughts. “Right… I’m done, I can’t allow myself to buy more books! Are you ready? Or do you require more snooping around?”

A smile was back on his lips, although Andrew still seemed a little shaken, you didn’t know why. He nodded anyway, looking down at the five books he was holding.

“I’m all good. Erm… I’m gonna order one, they didn’t have it. I’ll be quick.”

You nodded, let Andrew ask for the book he wanted, while you watched the rain fall outside, the lines it drew on the windowpane, the silhouettes hurrying back and forth in the street.

You didn’t hear Andrew joining you again, you jumped as he spoke.

“Ready?”

You had a new conversation going while you waited to pay for the books; and when it was time to walk out of the bookshop and part for the day, you didn’t want to. It was still early, you had no place to be on that Saturday afternoon. You wanted to finish this conversation with Andrew, you wanted to listen to his deep voice a little longer, let his calmness soothe you…

He looked into the street before you, holding the door open for you, but you remained motionless by his side. The rain was heavier now. It was so cold outside, you wondered if snowflakes weren’t hiding in the droplets.

“Want to get a coffee?” Andrew asked after a short silence.

You looked up at him, exchanged a glance. You read the same eagerness to stay in his eyes. You grinned.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

You were laughing at Andrew as you ran to the coffeeshop set right across the street when he slipped, almost falling, and cursing loudly at the clumsiness of his tall limbs. The rain was so cold over your face, you savoured the feeling the same way you enjoyed Andrew’s hand on your back when he told you to hurry inside.

“Wow… your standards for that date are… very high,” Andrew declared, pushing his rebel strands of hair behind his ear.

He cursed in a sigh, mumbling something about his hair tie not ‘doing anything’, and he pulled on it to free his hair. He shook his head to let his curls free; you tried hard not to stare, failed miserably…

“You asked for like… the dream date. The absolute dream. I’ve given you the absolute dream. The unreachable standard.”

“So… a movie in a field or clearing, a picknick, at night, and with lights hanging from trees.”

“Yes.”

“That’s insane.”

“You asked for the dream! That would be so fucking romantic!”

“It’s not even feasible, on a purely logistical point. How do you watch a movie in the woods? On a laptop?”

“No! I want it like… projected on a screen, like in cinema.”

“You want to go to an outdoor screening…”

“No! I want to be alone with the guy!”

“That’s impossible.”

“Projectors do exist, you know!”

“How do you create that set up where there is no one…?”

“I’ve never said I will ever get that! That it will happen! I’ve just said… that if anything could happen… I would like a date where we would be just together, in the middle of nowhere, watching a movie we both like and eating good food in a magical setting. Or it doesn’t have to be in the middle of nowhere, it can be… like… in a garden!”

“In this economy? Who owns a garden? Are you a millionaire?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Bantering with Andrew was such a nice sport…

“Why not just… go to a cinema?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Black, no sugar nor milk. Always the same order. Predictable guy…

“You can’t talk in a cinema. But you’re supposed to get to know the other person during a first date.”

“A restaurant then? You’ll go to the cinema for a second date.”

“Restaurants are okay,” you conceded. “And again, you asked for the dream. The one that is not achievable. That no man would ever do.”

“Because it’s not logistically possible.”

“Because no man would go to such length for someone else.”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the sudden pessimism in your voice. The mood shifted a little, from casually playful to something more serious, even a little sad.

You kind of hated your own thoughts, hated your weakness that made you unable to hold back the rest of your words, but they spilled out anyway.

“Especially not for me.”

Andrew’s expression changed from surprised to a deep frown. He opened his mouth to argue, but you interrupted him before he had as much as a chance to say a word.

“Never mind that. Anyway… let’s talk about something else. It’s your turn to answer a question!”

You narrowed your eyes, mischief back on your features, and if Andrew didn’t seem fully convinced by your sudden change of subject, he yielded anyway.

“Alright, I’m all ears.”

“I can ask you whatever I want?”

“Sure… I might not answer though.”

You looked for something that would make him blush for sure, just to tease…

“Weirdest place where you’ve had sex?”

Andrew broke into laughter, clearly uncomfortable now, and blushing like a tomato all the way up to the tips of his ears. He nervously ran his fingers through his hair. And yet, when he looked at you again, there was something wicked in his gaze, something beyond playful.

“That… is a very personal question to ask a lad.”

“You’re the one who started asking about my dating preferences.”

“Dating and having sex are quite… different. One is much more tamed.”

“Only if the date isn’t that good.”

He smiled, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek. You knew he liked that, the challenge of talking to someone witty.

“Fair enough,” he nodded, still staring at you, his voice lower and deeper than usual.

Your stomach clenched, you felt warmth spread across your entire frame under the combination of his stare and his suave ton.

He knew how to be a dangerous flirt, alright…

“I’m afraid I’ll be a little disappointing though. I haven’t had crazy experiences,” he admitted. “I guess… I don’t know… a car?”

“A classic!”

“It wasn’t very nice, to be fair…”

“Really?”

He winced, taking a deep breath.

“Very long limbs in a secluded space is all I’m gonna say about it.”

You chocked on your coffee, laughing so hard your belly was soon painful. And Andrew was laughing as well.

“Oh, no! The woods! That’s weirder!” he changed his answer, looking at the ceiling as he seemed to look through his memories. “Yeah, the woods, actually.”

“Risky business. I bet you’ve traumatised an entire family of badgers.”

“Several of them, definitely!” he chuckled, drinking and taking a bite of his cheesecake.

“Alright, next question!” you eagerly asked, making Andrew smile.

“Erm… like… erm… If you could go anywhere in the world now… Like… you’re just, transported like that,” he explained, snapping his fingers for good measure, “where would you like to go, and why?”

“Oh… It would have to be a place far away if I can teleport there and not suffer through twenty hours of flying… erm… Probably Australia or something like that. Or New-Zealand! Oh yeah… going full on hardcore Lord of the Rings fan in New-Zealand, that would be nice.”

“You’d make a very good elf,” he chuckled, but you shook your head.

“Oh, I want to be a hobbit! Quiet, eating a lot of good food, reading books, complaining about people all day long, like… with your busiest time of the day being going for a walk through the nearby fields. Yeah, I want that life.”

Andrew’s gaze softened.

“That sounds nice, indeed.”

You looked for a question to ask him while munching on your cupcake.

“Where would you like to live? Like… if you had an unlimited amount of money, and you could just… buy any house, anywhere in the world… where would you like to live?”

Andrew hummed as he was thinking of an answer, looking by the window at the rain that was still falling and showing no sign of stopping. In the coffeeshop, Mumford and Sons were playing, you hummed along the tune while you waited for Andrew’s answer.

He heaved a sigh.

“I’m… so boring,” he admitted with a smile. “But I… I would really like to live in Wicklow. Like… in the countryside, in a very small town, and to have… like… some land and a huge garden. Some old house where you can feel the weight of time and of people who have lived there before, but… I mean, modernised, cause… comfort, you know?” he joked, looking at you again. “But yeah, I… I would really like to live in a quiet house, a place with a soul. And I want a garden. I… I would really like to keep bees, one day.”

“Bees?”

“Yeah… they’re my favourite insects, even animals to be fair. They’re so… interesting and quite cute. And I just… Can you imagine? Taking care of your bees, and making your own honey? I would really like that. I would really like that a lot. Nothing extravagant, nothing unreachable just… a house with a garden, and a couple of hives. Besides, Elwood would need a garden. I’m lucky, my parents live in the countryside. I… I think I’d like to live quite close to them, actually. When I was a child, we settled in Wicklow, and it was so nice. I loved growing up there. We didn’t have a farm but we were outside any big city. And it was just so nice. I’d like that.”

You felt your heart grow warm at his words. Something so simple he wanted. Bees and a garden, some place for Elwood to run…

“You are aware it would cost you your liver to have a cubicle in the middle of a field, right?” you asked, trying to think about something else than the way your heart was making happy jumps now.

He rolled his eyes.

“You said that I didn’t have to think about the money. With unlimited budget.”

You nodded, checked the time.

It was starting to be late, your coffee was almost empty and you had finished your cake. Time to go home.

Instead, you looked up at Andrew, noticed how long his eyelashes were as he looked down into his cup of coffee. Your request passed your lips before you could think the words you were speaking.

“Ask me something else.”

A week later, Andrew was back in the bookshop, although, he was on his own this time. The book he had ordered had been delivered, he was coming to pick it up. He wouldn’t buy anything else, just what he needed. He had already bought too many books with you, the previous week, learning that you could not be trusted either in a bookshop. He wasn’t surprised. A fond smile spread on his lips at the thought.

He was about to go pay for the book when something caught his eye. A name he recognised and that made him immediately think of you.

Dante Aleghieri

He walked over to the table where a few books were displayed, including this nice copy of the Divine Comedy. He picked it up, turned the book into his hands, weighted it as he hesitated. He hadn’t read that book since his college days, several years ago. At the time, he wasn’t interested in that story, and he reckoned he was too young to understand it. He had studied later on the bits and pieces that Seamus Heaney himself had translated, but that was all.

You loved Inferno though. You had found something in it. He wanted to find out what it was. Besides, it made him think of you…

He heaved a sigh, walked to pay for both books, carried them home.

That evening, he picked up Dante instead of finishing the novel he was currently reading. He checked on Elwood, who was softly snoring in the corner of the living room, before heading to bed himself. He readjusted his glasses on his nose before slipping under the covers, turning off his phone so he wouldn’t be interrupted or distracted, and he started reading.

He was drawn into the story now, more so than he remembered being the first time around. Of course, it was a book written over seven hundred years ago, with such Christian outdated thoughts that some pieces were lost to us. And yet, there was something haunting in its imagery, something touching in the pain inflicted. He made a mental note to research more about the political context that was debated in the book, he didn’t remember the story being so heavily driven by Dante’s political views, but it was. It was mostly political, mostly Christian too. He kept on reading through Canto I and II, until he had to stop, his breathing caught in his throat, his eyes clouded with tears as he reached Canto III.

Through me you enter into the city of woes,

Through me you enter into eternal pain,

Through me you enter the population of loss.

The words carved above the entrance of hell made him put down the book, stare up at the ceiling. It was silly, that wasn’t what the words meant in the context of the book, and yet… there was so much loss in his life at the moment…

Through me you enter the population of loss.

The words played through his head again and again. What a beautiful way to describe grief…

He let out a breathy chuckle, blinking his tears away and smiling instead.

He should never doubt you. You seemed to always be right…

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier series #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au

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cvlutos · 2 years ago

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"DELIVER" Pt.One

✦ | 03.27.23 |

✦ | TWST!VARIOUS X GN!READER | TWST: MAFIA AU

✦ | Synopsis: | You deliver letters all across the eight districts and Ramshackles. A quite fulfilling job, until one day you and your neighbor have a horrible mix up. He's involved in something he shouldn't be and you just happened to be the last person he talked too.

[OVERVIEW]

Mafias are no joke.

They're dangerous. Violent. Some more than others. Yet it has been covered in gold, glamorized til the point of no return. Yet it isn't senseless murder, but only a few words can deem any murder from senseless to meaningful. It's best to not interact with them at all, it's best to simply know they exist and avoid them. Unless you desire end with them, or below.

Splattered drops of rain beat down on his form, shoes slippery as he turned down alleyways, shoulders and body slamming into the stone walk, nearly falling over himself to run away. His sight blinded by his wet hair, and clothes stained in dirty and blood.

He's been deemed a thief.

He can hear the loud shouts of orders from behind, the barking of dogs, and heavy footsteps that didn't stop and falter in the rain, an unmoving force that was moving faster than the boy. He continues twisted and turning, praying to any god, that he survives, he has to survive, the people have to know. They must. He stumbles out into the empty street, hands frantically wiping at his face, gasping and spitting out water, a moment to slow.

The sound of a gun rings out, ripping through the flesh of the boy, his body within moments topping over from the sheer-velocity and force, feeling the bullet rip through skin and rest painfully within his back. He blinks the tears from his eyes, as his body lands face first into the cobble stone ground.

Lifeless.

Those chasing him slow, staring the dead body be continuously beat down by the rain, and the rolling crackle of thunder, there's a hushed spread of commands, 'Grab the body. We'll show the Boss.' Voice is blank, as if almost grieving at the unnecessary loss of human life, before turning to his partner- his "friend", who easily tucked the gun away. A shark-like smile spread across his lips.

"He was wanted dead—Now he's dead." He merely shrugs, while the man with a spade symbol upon his face scowls.

"He was wanted alive. You went against the rules." The merman merely shrugs once again, making a 'blah' sound at the mention of the Queendom's rules.

A senseless murder to one, meaningful murder to another.

══════ ♡ ════════════ ♡ ══════

Death Certificate letters are the worse letters to ever have to deliver.

The road bumpy beneath your bike wheels, your leather satchel within your metal basket. You offer smiles to those you pass, those who worked in the gardens, picking and planting fresh vegetables and fruits, a group of older women and young girls, that always offer a wave and without outfail a dinner invitation, always adding 'the more the merrier' and there right, it's fun to not eat alone.

You ride your bike over twisted and bends, passing a small library where the owner watered his windowsill flowers, waving at you, and you wave back with a small smile. He's an old man, wrinkly and gray, with a single wooden leg, some say he got it during a fight with the Octavinelle Mafia, though most the others think he's lying, but a good lie never hurt no one.

The Ramschackles are diverse and lively midday, pressing on the breaks as a young man and his children blocked the road, letting his cattle walk through, leading the towards the pasture on the other side. He greets you, asking about your day, as his son climbs the old fencing shouting for the cows to go faster, and his daughter begs to ride the cows, pulling on the pants of his father. You remember the birth of the twins, nearly 6 years ago. You can't help but smile, giving each kid a piece of candy which you got from visiting Heartslabyul, which the father silently mouths a 'thank you', his wife had died in the last fall.

Once the last cow passed, your sped off, familiar with every bump and lump, though all the large rocks having been removed by a group of men, promising to make the road safer for you, and they did. Even covering up the major holes with dirt to make it even. Even amongst the mass of houses and homes, you can see the house that the certified was for, Ms. Louis, a widower, and now, a mother without her son.

Turning a sharp curve and halting in front of her home, kicking down your kickstand and climbing off your bike, yanking you satchel from the basket and fixing down your hair and clothes as you walked up the narrow stops, skipping the creaky board, as your rummaged through your bag. Before you can even knock, the door swings open, just as you grab the envelope.

"[Name], you're here." She speaks with a soft inhale, as if she ran from her kitchen to answer, she has deep eye bags, and her black hair is messy and undone. She attempts to smile, but you can tell by the shakiness of her hands, she's panicking—scared.

You pass her the envelope, yet you can't speak, far too afraid that your voice would crack, and you'd witness this woman all five stages of grief before she could open the yellow envelope. She doesn't wait til your leave, ripping off the edge immediately, you can see her green eyes begin to water, she already knows what awaits her. She tosses the packaging aside, hands running over the thick cardboard paper, fingers tracing the words of her son. She breaks down in sobs, and you hold her, feeling her frail form lean against you, arms wrapped around your shoulder, as she cries and speaks in broken sobs.

"H-he's dead! They-They kill-killed him!" She hiccups, voice cracking, you can feel her already broken heart shattering. Her crying gains the attention of others, some already sure of the fate that her son befell the moment he left the safety of the Ramschackles. Others asking to look at the certificate, as your pull away, watching them read over the piece of paper.

"Bullshit! That boy was no thief!" A neighbor, he shots angrily, holding the paper firm in his hand, as he points to Ms. Louis. "He ain't no thief!" His wife pats his arm, wiping the tears from her eyes, shaking her head at her husband's outburst. "He ain't mean it, Liz. He just hurtin""

"I know. I know." Liz let's put an exasperated laugh, shaking her head as she wipes her tears, walking down the steps and taking the paper back. "I know my Tommy was doing good," she lets out a shaky sigh, before turning back to you, "he always does good. Forgive me, it's been long since I've cried so hard. I know my boy wouldn't want be sobbin' over him like that."

"It's good to cry." You respond with a smile.

"They'r right. Tears ain't hurt nobody.” The husband speaks with a firm headnod, wagging his finger as Liz merely laughs making her way the steps to her house.

"Im in the process of finishin' that onion soup, with the chicken, if you wanna stay for lunch." The husband and wife immediately agree, the wife promising to get the newest loaf of bread to eat with it, as the husband made his way towards the house. Liz glances at you, hopefully. You feel bad, but pat your satchel.

"I got a few more letters, but save me a bite." You hop down the steps as she laughs, climbing back onto your bike and ringing the bell a few times, with a chuckle, before racing off.

The Ramschackles have always and will always be resilient.

"You had not the jurisdiction!"

Within a room of Crowley Hall, surrounding a table stands seven people. The Red-Rose Tyrant, The King of Beasts, The Deep-Sea Merchant, The Silly Sultan, The Fairest, King of the Underworld, and lastly The General. Tension is thick, palpable, you can almost taste it on yourself tongue.

Vil Schoenheit, The Fairest, was the first to speak, a clear scowl upon perfectly glossed lips, hair pulled back into a bun, clearly tired and annoyed. "Azul, we were supposed to agree,"

"And we did. Forgive me if Heartslabyul was too slow. Floyd is of course an uncontrollable force, and we wanted him dead, no?"

Azul Ashengrotto, The Merchant Of The Deep, has a faux pout, his voice drenched in fake concern, a heavy trench jacket hanging over his shoulders, eyes behind silver glasses beyond amused.

Riddle Rosehearts, The Red-rose Tyrant, stucks in a breath through his teeth, clearly angry, with the furrowing of his red brows. "You had no right. Under law, Floyd's head he be placed along my wall. Our suspect was not supposed to be killed."

"He was a thief. Isn't theft against your laws?" Leona Kingscholar, The King Of Beasts, stands directly infront of Riddle, still across the wide table, a deeply bored expression upon his face, yet his eyes seemed to glow in amusement.

"Exactly. I don't see why I'm such a target for such hate." Azul lets out a pitiful sigh, causing Riddle to slam his hands against the table, nearly knocking over various glasses, he glowers at the mafia boss of Octavinelle.

"If he fought back! You mercilessly killed him upon Heartslabyul soil! Do not deny it!"

"He had information, why give him a chance to live," Azul pushes up his glasses, a cruel grin spreading across his face, "unless you were working with him?"

Leona shakes his head, eyes fluttered close. "For shame."

"That wouldn't be a good look upon Heartslabyul either." Azul continues, before a clearing of a throat cuts him off.

Lilia Vanrouge, The General, the stand in for Diasomnia's Boss. "He had information. Information he shouldn't have. Information that resulted in his death. A shame it is..."

"It was senseless." Riddle crosses his arms, a scowl deep on his face still.

"But the information made it meaningful." Azul continues to keep his artificial smile, eyes on Lilia. The fae merely clears his throat, crossing his arms, a smile child-like grin on his face.

"We cannot go back in time to do differently. Our next step of action is to find if he could've possibly told another person. Any ideas Idia?"

Idia Shroud, The King Of The Underworld, his eyes dart across him screen before nodding. Using his fingers to spread out a image of the Ramschackles, showing the image of a tiny hovel with a rickety iron fence and old stone pathway.

"Hey, [Name]! This is absolute gold! I gotta tell ya!"

A young boy with blonde hair, and freckles walks beside you as your push your bike. He's holding a letter that you delivered to him simply moments ago. He waves it excitedly. He was a mafia fanatic, loved anything and everything about the place. To the point it had you concerned sometimes. The letter you had given him was from the Thomas Louis, or Tommy.

"Let me tell ya! If I get this to the news! Ooh Wee! Imagine! All that money." He punches the hair, and you shake your head.

"Don't go messin' with the Mafias."

"They aint gon' hurt no nobody like me." Henry has always been excitable, there's not a moment you haven't seen him without a smile that rivals the sun. "Well, I ain't gon' be a nobody for long." He voice quiets, but the smile is still there. Silence.

He opens his mouth to speak again, until a familiar chime of a bell and a holler of 'Henry' sounds loud and clear. "COMIN' MA!" He glances back at you with a grin. "Tomorrow. Imma tell you all about my big plan."

"I'm excited to hear about it." You watch him let out a happy laugh, before running off with a final wave. You spot your home in the distance, picking up your pace, as your place your bike against the metal fence.

Now, you love your home within the Ramshackle, your Lil hovel, and your small garden with your cat. You love it, truly you do. You love your neighbors, and you love the festivals that the Ramshackle holds. You love it all.

Your leather satchel hangs off your hip, filled to the brim with different letters and papers from your most recent trip. You just returned from Scarabia, having a good easy delivery for the old man that lives up the street, and after a long day, you're finally home.

You push past the old rickety iron gate, and up the stone pathway, eyes searching along for your familiar feline friend. He usually waits for you. Hopping the old creaky steps, until you stop right in front of a card. Perfectly placed with gold decor. 'For Ramschackle's Perfect. You're invited to Crowley Hall' written directly on the front. Ramshackle's Perfect was only a joke type name among the people that lived in, said Ramshackle.

Who else would call you that?

You pick up the letter, glancing around the porch, before slipping inside your home, and closing the door behind you. Crowley Hall, also known as the Grand Dinner Hall, a place where all important events took place, especially the meeting of all seven mafia leaders. Why would someone invite you with no other information?

You flip the card, there's nothing else. Your shoulders slump, you shouldn't go. Yet, you stare at the words once again. It could be important or lead to trouble for the other people of Ramshackle. Your eyes drift over to your clock. It was only 7 pm.

You had five hours.

You glance back at the thick fancy card. Five hours before 12. You feel a familiar purr, and glance down at your cat, Grim rubbing against your legs. Five hours, and well, as long as you're back before midnight. You'll be fine.

Right?

#t.manor.horror.stories #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #mafia au #twst au

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meownotgood · 3 months ago

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let us live, if we must die. / chapter four: scarlet wings

You are a witch, and since the purging of all magic, you've been forced to live a life of solitude and secrecy. Your destiny was always beyond your control — until, by a pure twist of fate, you unknowingly fell for the kingdom's only prince.

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pairing: prince!aki x witch!reader

word count: 14.6k

tags: fantasy au, royalty au, reader is fem, some very small mentions of violence, aki is getting better at flirting, way too many metaphors, two idiots who don't realize they're obvious being totally obvious

notes: this chapter is my favorite so far... I hope you'll enjoy it... thank you for your kindness and your patience as always! the next chapter may take a bit because I have some other writing plans for october, but I promise to return again soon :)

masterlist read on ao3 join the taglist here!

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soft sky, bleeding sun

I'll cradle your fear until

the clouds make it theirs

—

Growing up in the kingdom taught you to fear the color red.

Red was a staple of the seals worn by the knights and soldiers — the men you needed to be wary of, in order to survive. It symbolizes power, fear, violence. Red served as a reminder of the empire's scarlet, mage-seeking birds, of the crimson blood that would spill after every war, each brutal execution.

The same sort of bird rests in your palms now.

Kneeling, you sit in the center of a clearing, damp dirt and blades of grass tickling your bare knees, the forest's trees whispering in the faint, post-storm breeze. The air is cool and humid; it tickles the back of your neck, making the hair on your arms stand on end. The sky is obscured by a canopy of trees, and by knots of thick, dark clouds. Rain will fall again soon, most likely. You should head home. Yet, you can't seem to move. Your gaze won't tear itself away from the small, red-feathered bird you have held in both your palms.

A scarlet songbird. They're harmless, although quite rare to find in this area. Your books have told you they used to be much more prevalent, native to almost every area with the right weather conditions. Since the kingdom tamed them, they've mostly been captured — sometimes hunted. It's unlikely to find them in a place like this, departed from captivity. To the kingdom, the songbird's affinity for seeking out magical traces is too valuable to let roam free.

A particular book you read on local wildlife noted how the birds like to nab magical items to decorate their nests. They were trained to spot mages for the kingdom's benefit, to follow the traces left by spells and trail them to their source. Normally, they are timid, and try to avoid predators whenever possible. The kingdom turned them into hunters themselves.

Though, in this forest, they are finally free. From danger and captivity, from the kingdom's everlasting grasp. And so are you.

This one has seen better days. The bird's tiny body barely dwarfs one of your palms: a juvenile, most likely. It can't be more than a few months old. Most of its right wing appears to be damaged, with clusters of feathers missing, exposing a deep, fresh injury. Its breathing quickens, causing its body to shake. You brush your thumb over the bird's head, and it coos quietly in response, nuzzling further into your hand.

"What's up? Why are we stopping?"

Aki's voice rouses you from your thoughts, and you glance up to see him curiously peering over your shoulder, leaning down, his hands on his knees.

Aki reminds you of the color blue. Like the sparkle of royal sapphires, with the same sort of gleam reflected in his eyes. Like the colored sketches of the sea you've memorized from your books, and longed to one day see for yourself.

A handful of days ago, he brought you a bundle of bright blue peonies, which he found near the edge of the clearing surrounding your cottage. You placed some into a vase on the dining room table, and took the rest with you to have in your bedroom. Your eyes caught on their vibrant petals each and every time you entered. Since you first met and came to know Aki, you've never noticed so much blue. The blue of the sky, the blue of the river, the blue of butterfly wings and puffy flowers and shimmering stars.

Aki is blue; he's become synonymous with the word. With the blue of veins, instead of the ache that comes with flashes of bright, red blood.

You sigh slightly, glancing away from him, and back to the bird.

"Her wing is busted," You explain simply, clear frustration present in your voice, in the way your brows slightly pinch. "I doubt she'll be able to fly again."

Aki's eyes narrow. "A magehunter bird," He muses, "I didn't know you could find them this far out."

"There's plenty in the forest, they just like to keep themselves hidden," You reply with a shrug, your voice remaining soft and low, to avoid startling the small songbird. "I think they avoid the cottage, mostly. They don't like people."

Your words are a half-truth; before Aki, you'd often spot the birds gathering close to your home. Perching in the trees and sometimes on the roof, singing their little pleasant songs, or pecking at the mushrooms that encircle the clearing, just to flutter away when you got too close. With the addition of your new guest, and with the lack of spells you've been casting lately, they've been reluctant to continue hanging around.

The bird in your palms, however, is completely pliant. She doesn't even attempt to peck at your fingers or flap her injured wing. Her sharp breathing would lead you to believe she's still fearful, but she lacks the energy to fight or run, to do anything but timidly watch you, and hope you aren't a threat to a creature who is already dying.

It makes your heart ache, truly.

Aki examines the sudden strain in your expression. He hums in thought, and he kneels down to sit by your side; the bird shudders, drawing its wings close to its body. Almost as if it's trying to shrink away.

"You're fond of birds, aren't you?" Aki says calmly.

You huff a playful breath, and reply with a lilt of intrigued half-sarcasm, "How could you tell?"

"I kind of guessed, with all those wood sculptures," He answers, taking the question completely seriously. You think back to your living room, to the shelf of wooden birds you've hand-made, and although you're already pre-planning your rebuttal — it was just to pass the time, that's all — Aki seems to see right through you.

"I figured you liked animals, but birds were probably your favorite." He brushes a palm over the back of his neck awkwardly. His hair is up and out of his face, but his bangs still fall in front of his eyes as he tilts his head. "When I saw all those little sculptures, I thought it was… I don't know. Sort of cute."

His compliment makes you freeze up slightly, your face burning with warmth. You should be used to this, considering how open Aki has swiftly become, especially in the past few days. Still, as though it's simply effortless, he always manages to make you feel flustered.

A thin droplet of rain plops onto your arm. You shiver. The air carries the scent of a coming storm; it has your heart feeling heavy, reminding you of the day you first met him. It hasn't stormed like this since then. This time though, you won't have to return to your cottage alone.

Aki glances at you, then to the bird in your palms. "Should we take her with us?"

You know it's unlikely for the bird to survive, even if you brought it home and attempted to nurse it back to health. If it cannot fly, if it can't regain strength and let its wing heal, it'll be doomed.

And what about you? Unless the birds are trained to sniff out mages, they aren't typically a threat, but it could be drawn to the magical items you have hidden in your cabin. Aki must know their purpose better than anyone — he's from the kingdom, after all. It could give you away, if you aren't careful. The logical side of you says you should leave the bird behind, regardless of what your heart might believe.

But since you met Aki, when have you ever done what you should do?

Rising to your feet, you cup one palm over the other to shield the bird from the falling raindrops. Aki follows, standing back up in turn. Your cottage won't take long to return to. The bird's wound will need to be tended to immediately, before you start preparing dinner. It'll be thirsty and hungry. You're sure you can root around and find something to feed it.

It's settled, then.

You're smiling on the way back home, and when Aki asks you why, you tell him it's nothing, instead of admitting the truth — that you find it amusing, to have already picked up another poor thing to nurse back to health. Another him. You can't catch a break, can you?

—

With each passing, precious day, trying not to become too friendly with your new cabin-mate has been steadily becoming more and more difficult. Impossible, even. Honestly, perhaps that plan was always doomed to fail.

Aki is easy to talk to, and conversations between you flow like a river's calm stream — despite your inexperience when it comes to such discussions. Part of you worried things might become awkward after the night he comforted you, but surprisingly, nothing seems to change. Aki doesn't bring it up, nor does he act any differently. It's as though you've been friends for years, not weeks. It's nice, actually.

Your days are spent gathering ingredients and herbs from the forest, leaving early in the morning to avoid crossing paths with any devils. While your nights are spent relaxing, talking, and eating together. He's learned to make plenty of meals with your assistance. Aki swears he'll remember how to prepare them for his next adventures, should he find himself in a forest like this one.

Your greatest hurdle, at first, was getting used to his presence within the magic circle; a constant source of energy, wavering between the sensitive threads of the spell you've learned to constantly maintain.

It felt — he felt — like a persistent coolness on your skin, a knot within you that couldn't be untangled. A rift in your heart, and in your mind. Now, the ripples surging through your spell hardly bother you. They're comforting, even. Aki's presence, formed by the inner shape of his soul's mana, is calm. Deep like the ocean, frozen over like ice.

Aki is tidy, but his corner of the living room quickly begins to flourish with his belongings. His cot is always made neatly, the pillows straightened.

Books are stacked up beside the cot: various stories he's borrowed from your collection, based on your recommendations. His notebook and the jar of ink you prepared for him are set precariously on top of the stack, a bookmark poking out from the pages. Crafted from a thin strip of wood and one of the songbird's stray crimson feathers, you made the bookmark and gifted it to him.

After Aki's wound stopped bothering him — for the most part — he suddenly forgot all of your previous instructions to rest.

He does relax somewhat, when it's at your request. As his health improves, so does his level of energy. He usually stays up reading when he can't sleep — which is often, you've noticed. And as you've come to learn, Aki is a fountain of energy, and he can hardly stand to be cooped up for long.

You blamed it on the elf in him, initially. The points in his ears don't lie.

Truthfully, you haven't interacted with many elves. They were quite a rare sight in the kingdom. They're known to be on the curious side, requiring little amounts of sleep. Either way, they tend to prefer spending as much of their time as they can on their own pursuits. Novels usually paint elves as cold and stern, often taking up leadership positions because of their intelligence and status, but Aki differs from most of those stereotypes. He isn't cold towards you, anyways.

He reminds you more of a playful side, like the nature-loving elves in adventure stories. The sort of person who gets themselves into all sorts of trouble with their unbound knack for adventure.

Recently, Aki has been promising he'll stay still for a while and lie down, but once you return to the cottage, supplies in hand, he's nowhere to be found.

The first time it happened, you panicked. You felt even more anxious when you couldn't find him outside. The darker parts of your mind decided to spin some story where Aki returns with knights to apprehend you, and an army to face you.

Yet each and every time, he'd return alone.

Sometimes covered in dirt, apologizing for his absence as he interrupts your dinner preparations, dropping a palm-full of the songbird's favorite berries on the counter. We were running out, he explains guiltily, glancing away at the sight of your pout. He's already expecting you to scold him. For acting recklessly, for possibly putting himself in danger. It took me a bit to find them. Sorry if I worried you. I won't get lost next time.

In other cases, he'd return much sooner. He's a sweaty mess as he swings open the front door, slightly out of breath. He runs a hand through his hair to push it back. I was exploring, lost track of time, he says, through ragged gasps. I ran home when I realized how late it was. Got some exercise, at least.

You believe him, because why wouldn't you? Aki is kind and polite, perhaps too much so. He has always been honest. About most things, at least. He's charming, in a way. Though, you'd never admit those things to his face. You have a hard enough time admitting them to yourself.

Aki radiates this strong, fiery sense of warmth that perfectly contrasts the sensation of his aura: cool, deep, and still. A glittering sun on the surface, and a somber moon within. It's incredibly, addictively intriguing.

At this point, you've known him longer than anyone, besides your own family. His presence in your cottage has begun to feel natural. And yet, you feel as though you haven't even scratched his surface.

Nevertheless, the days continue to pass — although they definitely feel faster than normal. Your time with your elven, secretly royal guest slips by effortlessly. Most of Aki's depth continues to remain hidden, but your talks together become longer, your moments shared are always treasured.

And between the gaps in your usual routine, you continue caring for the poor scarlet bird.

Turns out, Aki might be more fond of the little thing than you are. It's endearing, to see him frequently check up on her. He helps you out with her care whenever he can.

The two of you prepared a small area for the bird together, creating a makeshift nest near the fireplace with moss, leaves, and the leather scrap that remained of Aki's old bag. You gathered some seeds and berries, and you placed them close, along with a shallow bowl of water. She was lethargic at first, but thankfully, once the sun rose, the bird began to move and eat. Since then, she's been recovering gradually. You've woken up earlier than usual a few times already, roused by the sound of her pleasant chirping.

That's a good sign, at least. Even if she can't fly yet.

Today, you and Aki rarely separated. You spent most of the morning away from the cottage, and most of the afternoon outside, on the outskirts of the clearing. You've been attempting to grow a garden there, and it needs to be tended to. Hopefully, you'll have your own berry bushes once they're in season next year. It'll make gathering them for dishes much simpler. Aki learns the process quickly, and he has no problem helping you pull weeds and treat the soil.

Once the sun finally began to lower, the trees obscuring its fading glow, the sky hued in bright shades of orange, you both headed back inside, and followed the same routine you've built up over the past few days.

You sit near the fireplace, Aki close beside you. The both of you enjoy the fire's steady, flickering warmth. Today was hot, but the night has grown cold. Dinner was simple to prepare, as was the process of cleaning up, especially with Aki's help. You watch the bird take careful breaths as it draws its wings close, settles into its nest, and closes its eyes.

Cross-legged, you rest your elbows on your knees, and your chin in your hands. Aki leans back, getting comfortable; he glances between you and the fire, the same way he does when he obviously has something to say. Firelight frames his face warmly, his handsome features lit in bright hues, his long, dark hair gently brushing his shoulders.

You'll speak first, if he won't.

"How are you liking the book I lent you?" You're inquiring, your head tilting slightly with your question.

Aki raises a brow. He brings his glass to his lips, and takes a sip of the cherry-red homemade wine. It's more like juice, really. The combination of berries make it sweet and refreshing. Considering the limited resources you have in the forest, it's one of your most impressive recipes.

He sets his glass back down on the floor when he's finished, right next to yours.

"It's good," Aki replies simply, his tone completely earnest. "I'm about halfway through."

Recently, he's been reading one of the many books you recommended to him, usually making progress after you've gone to bed, when he can't sleep. You specifically chose something you thought he would like: an adventure book, about a traveler following his father's old treasure map. The story is carefree and whimsical. You'd hoped Aki might sleep if he read a book before bed, but when he gets terribly engrossed, it just seems to keep him up for even longer.

He reminds you of yourself.

"Are you at the part where he gets to the waterfall?" You ask, recalling the last time you read that particular novel. You've read everything in your collection hundreds of times, but it's been a few months.

"With the sirens?" Aki answers, placing his hands in his lap.

"Yeah," You hum, a stupid grin tugging at your cheeks. Your gaze sparkles, and you hardly attempt to keep it at bay. "With the sirens."

You aren't sure what makes you happier. The fact that Aki is genuinely reading and enjoying the book you chose, knowing he's currently reaching one of your favorite parts in the story, or the pleasant spark you get in your chest when you imagine talking about it with him once he's finished, finally being able to share something you love.

All of those feelings are lovely enough to keep, but nothing compares to the warmth you're drowned in as Aki flashes you a quick, gentle smile.

"You better not spoil what happens," He murmurs through a small laugh, "You've gotten me invested."

"I would never, I promise." You raise your hands in the air innocently. Dammit, his smile is so contagious. "We probably shouldn't talk about it until you're done, just in case. You've gotta finish all of it. The ending is the best part, for sure."

"What about your book?" Aki asks; his gaze stays on you, as he watches you take a quick sip of your wine. "Have you finished it yet?"

You swirl the contents of your glass. "The Holy Knight? Yeah, I finished it yesterday."

"Did you like it? Or, I suppose you said you've already read it, right?" Aki corrects. "How does it compare to the last time you read it?"

Thinking to yourself, you breathe a soft hmm, and tap your index finger idly against your cheek.

"It was good. I mean, I enjoy the whole story no matter how many times I've read it. The ending always makes me tear up."

You recall the final chapter, the book's somber ending. At the very end, the knight saves the land, and as the curse is lifted, flowers and trees finally begin to grow. He inherits the kingdom, he is surrounded by wealth and beauty. But even after becoming king and marrying his love, he isn't satisfied with his accomplishments. In one final battle, the knight sacrifices himself to save the princess. He departs from her with an embrace, and then kisses her hand, her cheek, and finally…

Aki's smooth voice breaks you out of your haze. "My brother owned that one. I've read parts of it to him before, countless times. Though I can't remember if we ever wound up finishing it."

"Maybe that's for the best. It's kind of a sad ending."

You shrug, your gaze drifting away from him, and back towards the fireplace, flames flickering and wavering. The small scarlet bird rests in her nest. She appears to be sleeping, her eyes closed and her head tucked close to her patchy wing. You adjust your position, sitting with your knees drawn up, your arms around them. The living room smells like the fireplace's crisp ashes, mixed with the lingering sweet scent of crushed berries and juice.

For some odd reason — or perhaps there isn't one — you change the subject to abruptly state, "The knight in that story. He reminds me of you."

Aki's eyes grow slightly wider. Then, he lets go of an amused huff, he points to himself with his thumb; "Me? Honestly, I haven't read that story in a long time. I think you'll have to explain."

He's glancing at you now, back straightened, pointed ears slightly perked up.

"Uhm, it's like-" You shake your head, trying not to stutter. "It's just with how he is around the princess, you know? You remember the scene where Vincent meets Edith, right? Before she gets captured?"

Aki's brows furrow, as though he's trying to remember. "Vaguely."

"Where Edith says she hates him, and swears they'll never marry, even if the entire kingdom was at stake. But Vincent vows he'll win her heart?"

"Ah. Well-" Reaching for his drink, Aki tilts his head back to take a good long sip. His warm, confident gaze meets yours. "I don't think I've won anything yet."

When you promptly elbow him, he offers you a slight, almost nervous grin. Thankfully, he gives your heart a bit of reprieve, glancing away to carefully set his drink back down.

"Not like that," You're scoffing, shuffling with embarrassment. You drop your knees to place your hands in your lap and fiddle with your thumbs. "It was just… with how he's so nice to her, and then their dialogue changes so much as they grow closer-" You shake your head. "Ugh. Nevermind."

"No, no. I'm listening." Aki peers at you, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't tease you. I understand what you mean. We are similar."

Too similar. You're starting to wish you hadn't spoken, or even made the connection, because you can no longer stop yourself from picturing the novel's scenes with you in place of the princess — and of course, with Aki in place of the knight.

You imagine Aki hugging you close, his strong, safe arms around you, before he pulls back to kiss your hand, soft lips delicately brushing your knuckles. You think of Aki sweeping you into his arms to carry you away from danger. Aki reassuring you on late nights spent in one another's bed chambers that he wouldn't leave you, not even if the world deemed it so. Aki offering you his sword, so you can tap it to his shoulder as he says his vows, those pretty blue eyes on yours, his smooth voice echoing through your dizzy thoughts.

Miss Edith, I do swear for as long as I draw breath to never allow my fealty to waver. I do swear to offer my life for yours, and my heart for you to bear. If I am to fall, you will be my final thought, as you are my first and last dream before sleep, my love.

You've memorized so many lines from that damn book, and paired with how vividly you can picture Aki's voice, your mind is practically whirling.

You shake your head firmly, and give your flushed cheeks a couple light slaps. Aki cocks a brow, and casually leans closer as he glances at you, hoping to catch your eyes once more.

"Are you alright?" He murmurs, his soft tone not-so different from the one you were imagining, "Don't force yourself to stay awake if you're getting tired."

"Oh," You blink, and try your best to meet his gaze without looking away. Without picturing one of your favorite scenes from the book, a moment not too different from this one. The knight and the princess are in her quarters, sipping wine from fancy goblets. Suddenly, the princess suggests she's been hiding her true feelings all along, she believes she's fallen for him, and then —

"Yeah, I'm a bit tired," You mutter, clearing your throat. The fireplace is suddenly interesting enough to catch your eyes and keep them there.

Aki waits a moment, before he gathers both of your nearly-empty glasses, and reaches forward to set them on the edge of the fireplace, placing them out of the way.

All of those moments, those scenes, those dreams, often felt as though they'd be impossible. They are just fiction. Books to get drawn into, to take you somewhere far away from here, and nothing more. Because in your heart, you know those stories were never written with you in mind. Magic and mages would often be portrayed as what people thought of them — as the evil force the heroes needed to combat, as the villians that were meant to be vanquished. You accepted them for what they were, and accepted your loneliness. You had no other choice.

Perhaps you should start dreaming again. Perhaps this new dream, the one Aki has begun to lead you into, will pave a path to a warm, blossoming future. As long as you are willing to finally let yourself trust.

"You should get some rest," Aki encourages, his tone kept low. He gestures to the bird with a flicker of his gaze and a tilt of his head. "I'll keep an eye on her."

As if led by his instruction, you promptly stretch your arms up, and struggle to form an answer through a long yawn. "Alright."

Aki awkwardly rolls his shoulders back. He gnaws on his bottom lip, and avoids meeting your eyes as he rubs the tension from his own hands, squeezing his palms, flexing his fingers.

"There was… something I wanted to do," He begins, "But I wasn't sure if I should propose it."

"Huh?" You question, "Why?"

"I thought it might upset you."

Knowing Aki, it surely wouldn't. You don't hesitate, and barely fault your budding curiosity.

"Show me. And if I don't like it, I'll tell you." Your gaze on his is sure, unwavering. You reflect sparks of fierce firelight. "I'm okay with giving anything a chance, as long as it's with you."

Aki looks away, swallowing. He seems nervous, in a certain endearing way, in a way you're sure you haven't seen from him yet; he shifts uncomfortably, his palms already sweaty. Finally, he sighs, and forces himself to not only meet your eyes, but to get the words out.

"Do you remember this one scene from the middle of The Holy Knight? When they're-" He cringes, his teeth gritting. "Riding in the back of a carriage?"

Vincent and Edith had just finished tending to affairs at a fancy dinner party. The chapter leaves out most of the details, but describes them as they traveled back to the castle. They sat together in a fancy horse-drawn carriage, and as Edith's weary eyes began to droop, Vincent guided her to rest against his shoulder.

Oh. You don't answer, but you're sure you've made your realization obvious by the look on your face.

You watch him curiously as Aki takes a deep, motivating breath. He doesn't meet your eyes, but he does begin to shift a bit closer. He ever-so slowly and ever-so tentatively places his arm around you, barely touching. You follow the rest of the way, as he guides you to carefully lean your head against his shoulder.

It's stiff, a bit cumbersome. Your cheek doesn't quite rest perfectly on the bony, hard edge of his shoulder. You have to lean over a bit too much for this to be truly comfortable, and Aki is surely sitting way too straight, clearly still awkward.

But honestly, it's perfect. It's authentic, it's warm — and when you steal a glance up at him, his pretty expression makes it all worth it. Aki is smiling. He's flustered, perhaps more than you. You doubt the light from the fireplace is all that's flushing his skin in shades of red and pink.

You smirk, and nuzzle further into his shoulder, finally closing your eyes.

"Awfully bold of you," You're murmuring in a tired tone, trying your best to mimic the fancy cadence of the princess' line from the novel.

Aki shrugs. "It's probably the wine."

It isn't, it's fruit juice you've been calling wine, but your fuzzy thoughts begin to fade away as the fire warms you, and as Aki's faint touch comforts you — his arm around you, his palm brushing from your shoulder to your back — guiding your mind to drift off into a quiet, gentle slumber.

—

When the night sky meets the trees, the moon illuminating the clearing's whispering blades of grass, and the stars shimmering with their own faint promises, you find your favorite space to be alone.

It's been a few weeks since Aki first began staying with you, and a few days since you first took the bird in. Tonight, the foggy air that settles on your skin is cool and crisp. The forest is calm and quiet, save for the sounds of rustling trees and cooing cicadas. You sit in the clearing just in front of your cottage, cross-legged, gazing up at the brilliant canopy illuminating the surrounding darkness.

This was your usual routine, before Aki. You would spend each night looking up at the stars, when it was far too late for anything to disturb you. The night often gave you peace. It allowed you to think. When it was just you and the crickets and the wind, and the smell of the dirt and the trees, you felt as though you could finally breathe.

Inhaling slowly, and then exhaling carefully, you let the night's cool air fill your lungs. Wind brushes across you ever-so faintly. At first, while Aki was resting, you took every opportunity, slipping away to enjoy this whenever you could. When your mind was racing and you just couldn't sleep, the lonesome silence helped to calm your worries. This time, it isn't helping much.

Your mind has been a mess all day today, and the day before that. Perhaps it has never truly untangled. All the usual worries you've had about Aki and the kingdom and the future have been piling up, filling your head with no way to discard them. Quietness helps you think, but you don't want to think; you've been lost in your thoughts for way too long.

Nothing works. It's a lost cause, clearly. You sigh to yourself.

The best you can do is try to relax out here for a while, underneath the pale moon, and hope your mind eventually tires itself out enough to let you sleep.

Though, the night has other plans for you.

The cottage door opens from behind you with a wooden creak, and you swiftly turn around. Aki carefully closes the door behind him. He gives you a soft, acknowledging smile when your eyes meet, before he walks down the stairs of the front porch, and comes to sit beside you. He matches you, crossing his legs; faint breaths of wind rustle his crisp white tunic and flutter through the long, dark strands of his hair.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Aki asks smoothly, and you quickly shake your head.

"No, no. It's fine. You can stay." Your gaze travels back to the glittering stars, as they watch over the both of you with distant admiration. "I'd like it if you stayed, actually."

So, Aki does.

He folds his hands in his lap, and falls into silence alongside you. Once again, you are no longer alone. He stays while you stare absently at the moon and the sky, continuing to think to yourself. He stays when the night seems to grow colder, the breeze nipping at your arms and the back of your neck, your eyes heavy, while your heart keeps thudding in your chest.

Finally, you let go of a small sigh in frustration. It doesn't go unnoticed; Aki's gaze flickers back to you. In the corner of your vision, you can see him eyeing you up and down, carefully considering, calmly examining.

"Are you alright?" He asks, far too gently. "It's pretty late for you to still be awake."

You shake your head. You glance down, focused on your hands and the shadowy blades of grass tickling your knees. "I can't sleep."

"Why's that? Are you cold?" Aki's brow raises as he notes your small shivers. "I can move, if you want to be by the fireplace. I'll sleep on the floor or something."

"I'm not that cold." You rub your goosebump-filled arms with your palms, somewhat contradicting your words. "I've just been thinking. Thinking too much, probably. That's all."

Aki quiets. He runs a hand through his hair to push it from his face, he idly taps his finger against his knee.

Suddenly, thinking becomes so much more difficult. It always is, whenever he's around. Yet, this is a welcome change. The night feels warmer with him near. His presence alone helps your mind find its footing. You can breathe, but you didn't need the night to teach you — you just needed him.

Foolish, isn't it?

A few moments tick by. Your thoughts drift to lighter subjects. Dreams and soft hopes. He waits for you to speak, never pressing, never pulling. And so, you do.

"I've always liked how bright the stars are out here," You murmur, almost talking to yourself, with your gaze still caught on the sparkling array in the sky. "They shine brighter where the forest is darkest. Almost like they know there's someone out there who might need them to light their way home."

On your first night alone, when you escaped from the kingdom, when you ran as deep into the forest as your tired legs could take you, with only some books in your pack and a demon-warding amulet around your neck, the stars were there. They lit your path through the trees and into the clearing. Hundreds upon thousands of steady glowing lights watched over you when you collapsed, and they made sure to look after your rest until morning.

Aki listens intently. He looks only at you. When you're content like this, staring at the sky, your pretty gaze seems to sparkle, too.

"They're gorgeous. It gets harder to see them the closer you get to the city," He says. "In the kingdom, we have this phrase about stars. It's quite famous. I'm pretty sure some poet came up with it a thousand odd years ago, and now people use it in stories and plays and such."

You turn towards him. "And that phrase is?"

"Per aspera ad astra." Aki pronounces each syllable perfectly and purposely, with a certain sense of wonder. "It means, 'through thorns, look to the stars.' But phrases in old tongue can honestly be interpreted in a thousand different ways."

"The stars will never stop watching over us, even through hardships." You give your own interpretation, while admiring those very same stars. "What a beautiful phrase."

He smiles. "Yeah. I thought you would like it."

Those stars and this moon watched over your family ages ago. They foresaw the very first mages, they looked upon their devastating downfall. No matter what future they might hold for you, their presence above your head will never change, they'll never waver.

They've been watching Aki, too. When you were younger, young enough to gaze up at the sky and dream of a brighter future, where was he? Learning to fight the devils you'd soon have to run from, pacing the halls of the castle you dreamt of visiting?

You take another deep, grounding breath, taking in the crisp night air, and you draw your knees up, getting more comfortable. Glancing at Aki, you see him intently looking at the sky, this time. For once, he isn't staring at you.

"Could you tell me another?"

Aki glances towards you with a hint of surprise. "Another phrase?"

You nod. "I didn't know the kingdom still spoke in old tongue. It's interesting."

Aki hums, considering. He holds his chin, his brows pinching as he thinks. Eventually, he continues, allowing you to hear his smooth voice once more — just as you wanted.

"Okay… let's see. Fortis fortuna adiuvat. 'Fortune favors the bold.' All the knights in training have to learn that one." He smirks, his eyes rolling slightly. The kingdom's chivalry must fail to impress him. "Devil hunters prefer morior invictus. Death over defeat."

"I think I've heard the first one." You pause to dwell on his words, before you turn back to him, eagerly questioning, "And what about the kingdom? Could you tell me more about it?"

Aki pauses. He breathes a small laugh. "I'm… not sure what you mean. What did you want to know? Just…" He shrugs. "Anything?"

"Yeah. Can you tell me what it's like?"

For a moment, he hesitates. He takes a deep, thoughtful breath. A soft, clearly excited smile forms on his features. He gazes at you like you're sparkling more than the sky.

"Well, I- I thought you might like the kingdom's gardens," He explains, a bit awkward and stuttery at first. "The castle's garden, especially. The front entrance is surrounded by huge weeping willow trees. Each path is decorated with every bright color of flower you can imagine. They flourish in the spring, and in autumn, the trees turn the richest gold hue. There's rose bushes, daffodils, tulips, orchids. Orchids are your favorite, aren't they?"

When you brought home a bundle of orchids, he watched as you carefully trimmed their stems to place them in a vase on the dining room table, and he listened as you explained how you've always found them beautiful. They're a symbol of elegance and grace, a common motif in your favorite poetry books. You've always admired them. Aki promised he'd remember.

You nod shyly. "That's right."

Aki smiles. He places his hands in his lap, slightly fiddling with his thumbs. The moon and stars form a bright halo above him, glittering down onto both of you. "I'm sure you'd find orchids in every shade. Or if you wanted some for yourself, I could buy them for you. Ah, you'd like walking through the town square, too. There's lots of flower vendors."

"Flower vendors?" You're scoffing, donning a grin of disbelief, "People are spending gold on flowers when there's thousands they could pick without emptying their pockets?"

"Well, they're usually selling flowers you can only get in certain regions. They grow them themselves," Aki explains matter-of-factly. "Besides, it's tradition. You're supposed to buy flowers as gifts. For your loved ones or your family or your partner. Something like that."

You try to ponder the implications, your mind and your heart stuck on his specific choice of words; your partner. Does Aki have a spouse? Perhaps there's someone he's already interested in. He's royalty, surely he has admirers. Or maybe, just maybe, offering to buy flowers for you meant something more — but Aki stands, pushing himself up and rising to his feet, instantly halting your surging train of thought.

"Wait-" You glance up at him swiftly. "You're leaving?"

"Only for a moment," He answers. Your expression softens. The rush of relief that fills you must be palpable.

Aki gestures towards the cottage. "I was going to get a blanket for us. Unless you'd prefer to go back inside?"

"Oh. No," You murmur in response, shaking your head. "No, it's fine."

He isn't gone for long. Aki brings one of the blankets he was using for his makeshift bed: a large, handmade quilt, messily sewn from different patches of fabric. Delightful warmth fills your body as he drapes the blanket around you, but for good measure, he shifts closer. Close enough to let the both of you share the blanket, close enough to have your legs brush and your shoulder press to his.

And as the night stretches on, Aki tells you about the kingdom. He details everything you would want to know, he provides illustrations for all of the fantasies you have wondered and dreamt about — the luxuries you wished you could afford. He makes all of them seem real.

It's late. You need to sleep, you know you'll be exhausted by the time tomorrow comes, and you're sure he knows this too. But you stay as you are. You don't want this moment to end.

For as long as the night allows, you live through what he shares with you, as though this life were different, and you were much more fortunate. Honestly, you are more fortunate than you've ever been to have this, to have him.

Aki describes the kingdom's beauty to you. Cobblestone pathways, ornate churches, bridges that overlook the entire city. The castle is placed upon a hill; you can spot its grandeur from miles away. A river runs through the city, providing canoes you can take, pooling into a beautiful sea with an abundance of fish to catch. The streets are always busy. There's merchants and performers, vendors and dancers. Nightly parties and fancy outings, and a life you could only ever dream of.

If Aki offered to take you, to show you, to give you such a life, you can't quite decide how you'd answer.

At some point, the descriptions he's painting for you blend together. The bustling depictions of the ferry port jumble with his explanation of the town's most famous grand library. Your head slips to his shoulder, and you're fading away. You can't remember the last thing you heard before you fell asleep.

Briefly, you wake up while Aki is carrying you inside, but you drift off once again the moment he places you into your bed, drawing the warm, comfy covers over you, and quietly closing your bedroom door behind him.

—

Days pass. Nights spent looking upon the stars together become more frequent.

After a while in your care, the injured scarlet songbird begins to show some positive signs. She's been leaving her bed on her own to hop around the living room, or to perch on the end of Aki's cot. Although her wing still seems weak, she's been trying to flap it, stretching and waving both wings in the air at every opportunity.

An excited Aki drags you into the cottage a few days later. You were in the clearing, tending to the garden, but you follow along when he begins tugging you by your arm.

The songbird flutters around the room, floating freely from the edge of the fireplace, to the kitchen counter, to the top of a sculpture-filled bookshelf.

Look, Aki says, exuberant. She's flying.

—

The flickering fire in front of you radiates steady, calming warmth. As you carefully tilt the small chunk of wood in your hands, your sleeves rolled up, a blanket in your lap to catch all the shavings, you can no longer feel the chill of the night.

An almost-full moon watches over your technique. Your eyes narrow in focus. Your thumb presses to the blunt side of your blade.

You've been working on this sculpture for a few days now; you have to be careful, you wouldn't want to make a mistake when you're so close to adding the finishing touches. This sculpture has to be perfect. After all, getting the chance to study a scarlet songbird up close is hardly an everyday occurrence.

Slowly and meticulously, you refine the head of the sculpture, smoothing out the bumps in the circular shape. The end of the head is spiked slightly, to form the shape of thin feathers. You've recently learned from your hours of study that songbirds have large, thick beaks, perfect for cracking open the shells of seeds. You curve your knife, and refine the simple shape of the beak into a dull, triangular point.

Aki sits across from you, one leg crossed over the other. The both of you have already finished dinner, and you now rest in the middle of the clearing, in front of the fire, sitting on some large fallen logs you dragged in from the forest. His hair remains the way it was this morning: tied back to keep stray strands out of his face. He leans backward, head tilted up as he gazes silently at the glittering sea of stars.

Normally, you would join him. You'd set your sculpture down to complete later, and you'd come to sit beside him, so the two of you could count the constellations together. But tonight, your mind is elsewhere. You're focused on the pounding of your heart and the movement of your hands, because tonight, Aki finally won.

There's a game the two of you have been playing, ever since the nights have begun to grow warmer.

To your surprise, when you brought up the idea, you learned Aki has never caught fireflies before. He's hardly ever seen them, he explains, outside of a handful of times when he was a kid.

They're useful to light up the kitchen, so you can clean up after taking your time at dinner. Most of the time though, you'll catch them in your palms, you'll place them into jars and admire the performance of their synchronized glow, just to watch them all fill the sky once you set them free. You showed Aki how he could catch them, his own hands mimicking the cupped shape of yours. And now, each night, you've been playfully competing to see who can catch more.

At first, it was to decide who would wash the plates and pans. When a few days went by with no success, Aki decided to raise the stakes. If he wins, he gets to ask you three questions, and you have to promise to answer.

You were confused. Perhaps even the slightest bit shocked. You silently mulled over his proposal as the two of you washed dishes together, a jar filled with ten busy fireflies on your side, and a jar holding just two of them on his side — both fireflies conversing, gently flickering their bulbs.

I won't ask anything too personal, I promise. And if I ever did, you wouldn't have to answer, Aki explained. His expression was soft and reassuring as he glanced up at you, while scrubbing some silverware with a worn-down rag. I feel I don't know much about you, is all. And I'd like to.

You aren't used to someone wanting to learn more about you, nor would you know precisely what you should tell them. What if you wind up saying too much? Or perhaps, you would only be able to tell him far too little?

No matter how foolish, some part of you believes it wants to tell him.

In all honesty, you weren't expecting much to come out of the deal you just agreed to. You believe him; Aki wouldn't ask anything out of the ordinary, he wouldn't press you, or put you in a situation you can't get out of. He also happens to be particularly awful at catching fireflies. He's never caught more than you, and with his lack of experience, you wouldn't expect him to — until tonight, of course.

Once you lit the firewood and a fire began to spark, you both sat down to compare how many you collected. You counted, and as the fireflies fluttered around, you recounted. Aki counted them as well before you set them free, just in case you were mistaken. He met your gaze with a sure, satisfied smile.

He caught one more than you.

Now, here you are. You wouldn't call this feeling worry. As you sit by the fire, busying yourself with your diligent work on your wood carving, your heart comes alive — with warmth that burns the chassis of your chest from the inside. You swear your fear has been swallowed by the flames, because this feeling is more like excitement, unwavering and true.

You have never revealed what lies beneath your surface, not ever before. Not to anyone but the starlight.

Gods, how you have waited for this.

"So," You begin, breaking the silence first. You drag your attention away from your wood carving, glancing up at Aki with an eyebrow raised, "What would you like to know?"

Aki finally looks away from the sky, and you try not to falter when his deep gaze meets yours. He flashes you a small smile. Then, he breathes a soft, obvious hmm, as if he's pretending you'd caught him off guard.

"Your name would be a good place to start."

Ah. After all this time, you still haven't told him. You consider the possibilities, nervously running your thumb over the grooved shape of the sculpture's unfinished wing. Your family name would be dangerous for him to know, of course. In any other circumstance, you'd consider giving him something fake, or possibly your middle name, since it'd be more difficult to trace. But this time, your first name is fine. If it's Aki who knows it, you have nothing to fear.

So, you answer. Aki grins, lacing his delicate, scarred hands together, and resting his elbows on his knees.

One question down, two more to go.

"A very pretty name. It suits you," He muses, in a tone smooth enough to make you shudder. His words feel like thick liquid gold, tingling in your veins and dripping down your back. "You already know mine. But perhaps there's something else you'd like to know about me?"

"I- I mean, maybe," You reply, trying and failing not to stutter. There's plenty of things you've been wanting to know, but nearly all of them you couldn't just say. You can't suddenly blurt out, Are you really royalty? as casually as he just asked for your name. "But I thought you were the one asking the questions. Not me."

"It'd be fair to let you ask some too. Right?"

Your fingers drum idly against the hilt of your knife.

"Okay, uhm…" You glance him up and down, trying to come up with something. Your gaze catches on the pointed ears sticking out from his hair; "You're an elf, aren't you? Is your family from the kingdom? I heard there weren't many elves there."

That was two questions in one, but Aki doesn't seem to mind.

"Half-elf," He corrects. The firelight dances in his eyes, forming fuzzy warmth in the edges of your vision. "My mother was an elf, and my father was human. My brother and I were both born and raised in the kingdom, as was my father. But my mother was considered an outsider. She left her village when she was twenty."

Was. Your eyes widen. Although you already had your hints and suspicions, you can't help but note his specific choice of words. Still, your gaze drifts back down to your sculpture. You glide your knife forwards to thin out the delicate shape of the long tail feathers, and you move along without mentioning it.

"Ah," You reply, nodding, "Sorry. You're a half-elf."

Aki cocks a brow. "You seem surprised."

Half-elves aren't exactly common, considering the tension that can still linger between both parties. Elves have always been known for discovering magic; their magic lineage leads some to distrust them. They're often blamed for past troubles. Humans are the ones revered for stopping them. A half-elf would surely face judgment from both sides.

You know what that feeling is like. Has Aki also felt like an outcast, did part of him gnaw from within, promising he would never find somewhere he truly belonged?

"I thought half-elves were a rarity," You reply quietly, "But I don't know, maybe I'm wrong." You give a heavy shrug of your shoulders. "It's been a while since I left the cottage."

If only he knew.

"That's alright," Aki answers calmly, folding his hands and placing them in his lap. "Half-elves are uncommon, but in recent times, not so much. The, uh," He clears his throat rather abruptly. "The old king and queen set a new precedent, I suppose."

You squint as his gaze meets yours, matching his coyness with curiosity and confusion.

The old king and queen. An elf and a human ruling together was unheard of, at the time.

Unfortunately, your memories of the kingdom are vague. When you were much, much younger, you heard many stories about the famous king and queen, your mother's embellished retellings filling your mind each night before bed. A few weeks before you fled the kingdom, you learned of their passing. The details weren't revealed to the public, you'd imagine. You suppose you were too young to know what was true and what was just a tale.

Before you can ask anything else, Aki is continuing, as he nervously drums a hand against his knee.

"A lot has changed in such a short time. Elves have always been welcome in the kingdom, but it's rare for people to judge them these days. The king and queen were very well remembered."

Then, he breathes a short laugh. He points to his ears, his star-shaped earrings sparkling when they catch the flames of the fire. "In some other places though, these ears have gotten me into an awful lot of trouble."

This, in fact, does not surprise you.

Your eyes roll playfully. Setting down your sculpture and your knife in favor of resting your chin in your hand, you shoot Aki a teasing glance. "Really? What kind of trouble?"

"Mmm, you know. The typical sentiments. Lots and lots of dirty looks. Whispers about magic and mages and the like. Most half-elves have smaller ears, but you can't exactly hide these." Aki taps his pointed ear, making his earring rustle. "I owe you many things- my life, for one. But I'm grateful you've never judged me, even when you saw what I was."

You shake your head and scoff, your jaw tightening, "Come on, you don't owe me anything. You needed help, that's all. So I provided."

You've told those words to yourself at least a thousand times. Oh, but it's so much more than that now, isn't it?

Aki sighs. "Gods, you're sweet, you know that?" He smiles, his gaze sparkling with saccharine sweetness. "You could have turned me away, you could have easily kept me at arm's length. But when I'm with you, I never feel anything less than welcomed."

Your heart stirs, thudding within your chest like a performer's drum, fluttering like the flap of a bird's wings, and warming your face until it feels hotter than the flames of the fire.

"Stop, you're just…" You rub your arm shyly while you glance down at your boots. "You're only saying that."

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," Aki answers softly. "There's good in you, more than most I've met these days."

Good? When was the last time anyone thought of you as good? Mages have never been regarded with anything but contempt, and you have embodied that fact for so, so long. It's become who you are. You have defined yourself as a witch, you've embodied the terrible things you've heard people say and do. You aren't allowed to be anything more than that. Your life isn't worth anything more.

Aki makes you think differently. He's reminded you of what you thought you couldn't have, he's made you think that you can be you — clipped wings soft, and outstretched.

You glance down once more at the sculpture. You hold it in your palms, and run your thumb over the details: the pointed beak, the smooth body, the small feet. Carefully, you take hold of your knife. Your eyes narrow as you guide the blade, adding faint notches to the bird's thin talons.

You sigh to yourself, your brows knotted in focus. "I'm sure not everyone you've met is terrible."

"You'd be surprised. A lot of towns are still pretty intolerant towards elves. Towards mages, in specific. Even if I explained I was there to help them, to fight devils for them, sometimes they'd simply refuse to listen." Aki huffs in frustration, leaning forwards, rubbing the tension from the joints in his fingers. "I felt lucky whenever they denied me entry. At least then, I wouldn't have to deal with them."

You can definitely sympathize. Quietly, you reply, "That sounds… unfair."

"It was. My mother often tried to rationalize it. 'Those people are afraid, Aki. They don't want to be hurt again.'"

His shoulders slump when he lets go of a weighty, built-up breath. His gaze has found itself drifting, first focused on the fire, and now stuck on his hands. "I understood that. I've known since I was young. It's just… you know." A choked bite finds its way into his tone. "Frustrating."

Frustrating is a light way to put it. You certainly, undoubtedly know. Aki doesn't realize how acquainted you are with that very same feeling of hopelessness.

He pauses, brows furrowed as he thinks, and you set your knife aside. Your fingers return to trace the curves of the nearly-complete sculpture.

When Aki speaks next, he's glancing back up at you. "Could I ask about your family? Or… is that…"

He trails off, but you know precisely where he's headed. It isn't too much, not if he's the one listening. You shake your head, glancing between him and your hands.

"No, it's alright," You reply, your voice weaker than intended. "There just isn't much to say. They've both been gone for… Gods, ages now. I wasn't as close with my father, but my mother was very important to me. Losing her was difficult."

Sadness lingers in your tone, along with something anxious, something uncertain. Aki watches your hands, fiddling uneasily with the small wood carving.

Like a quiet eclipse, there's meaning behind your words, a gentleness you prosper when you give Aki a knowing, pained glance. You know the pain he's felt. You've shared it once, perhaps without realizing.

When he speaks, his voice helps to ground you.

"I'm sorry. I understand. My mother and father are gone. I lost my younger brother with them. It's a terrible feeling."

You breathe deeply, steadying yourself.

No one knows about your family. You rarely even think about what happened, you prefer to move on rather than dig up old wounds; it's what you needed to do to survive. And yet, in the face of Aki's soft expression, his calm gaze meeting yours, the words seem to spill out before you can stop them — your breath catching, your hands clenching the sculpture tight.

"I lost them. And when I did, I… I lost everything," You're murmuring, your shoulders tense as you try not to shrink in on yourself. "I was alone for the longest time. I felt… afraid."

Aki's leg bounces. For a moment, as you glance up at him quickly, before avoiding his eyes to look down again, you think he might stand up. You wouldn't mind if he came to sit next to you. Against your better judgment, you might find yourself pulling him closer, latching onto his arm or dragging him into an embrace just to savor the way your heart would skip. Instead, he forces himself to still, his hands folded and his knuckles locked.

You sigh, and continue before he has a chance to speak. "Sorry. It's difficult to… to put everything into words. I'm not used to this. I haven't really… talked about it before. Not until now."

Aki glances you up and down, noting the discomfort in your posture. He swallows, and he leans back.

"Don't apologize," He says, his tone soft. "You're doing just fine. You don't have to speak if you don't want to."

As your reassured gaze catches on his own, he brushes a palm over the back of his neck, and hurries to fill the air with something other than the crackle of the fire and the chirp of crickets.

"My dad and I- my mother always said we were the same," He begins. The fire's flames wash over his face in faint orange hues. "Stubborn. Fearless. He was an adventurer when he was my age. The kind of man that never wanted to be stuck in one place. But when he married, he finally settled down. He was… a well-respected man. Many people disapproved of him marrying an elf."

You stay frozen in place, your eyes softening at the sound of his voice. He takes a deep breath, laughing a bit.

"You know, when I was young, I was one of those kids that never stopped to think before they spoke. Ardentis is what my mother used to say. It means… filled with fire. Impulsive. When I was ten, I asked my father why he would ever marry my mother, if it made things so difficult. Thank the Gods I said it when we were out on our own, visiting another province. I can't imagine how they would've scolded me if I said it in public."

Filled with fire. Aki always burns bright, but the outline of his soul — floating and flickering within your magic — feels cold, in comparison. Like pressing your palm to the smooth surface of a frozen lake. Like falling through to drown in deep, cool waters.

Aki can't look at you. "My father answered, when you love someone, you'll find a way to bend the world to fit their shape." He pauses. He clears his throat, his shoulders slack; he glances up at you, finally. "It was one of the last things I remember him telling me, so I guess it always stuck."

You listen in silence. Everything converges and stops, your entire world pinpointed on this singular moment. The songbird sculpture rests in your hands, your grip tightening, although your gaze is unable to tear away from his. The fire crackles gently, the wind brushes your skin like a kiss.

Leaning back, Aki crosses one leg over the other. "I'm onto my third question now. Right?"

"Yeah. Right."

And what of the shape of your own soul? Would his fit with yours? Would they press together like the softness of hands interlocked, or like the sting of a knife to your throat?

Aki flashes you a warm smile. "Which do you prefer? Sunrise, or sunset?"

—

Sunset was your answer.

You adore the beautiful hues the sun paints across the sky, dying light shining through the trees in desperate rays, only for everything to fade into the alluring darkness of the night. Sunsets mark new beginnings, before the sunrise returns to embrace them. Both are beautiful — and to be honest, you weren't sure which you preferred.

When Aki asked you that night, you put little thought into your answer. You've always had an appreciation for both, but you've never thought of picking a favorite. You pondered it for a moment, before simply choosing one, like flipping a coin, like relying on a hunch. Sunsets are your favorite.

The night was stretching on for a bit too long, and since the two of you still needed to get some sleep, you left it at that. Aki thanked you. He gave you a simple, you'll see, when you questioned where he might be going with this. You yawned, watching the fire flicker weakly, and decided it'd be best to call the night there.

You slept peacefully and dreamlessly. Busy with the chores of the coming day, you nearly forgot about the conversation and the night you shared — until Aki returned to surprise you.

He'd been out for a while. You had some cleaning to do around the cottage that day, and so he promised to tend to the garden while you finished everything you needed to. You cleaned your bedroom and the living room. You washed all of the blankets and linens, hanging them up on the line out front. When you glanced towards the garden, the sun high in the sky and a crisp breeze at your back, Aki was nowhere to be found.

At last, just before sundown, he returned — along with the scarlet songbird in tow. You set down the dish you were washing as he tossed open the door to greet you in the kitchen.

In just one day, the bird has made immense progress. She's been following me all day, Aki explained earlier this afternoon. The bird flew out of the cottage when he left, and proceeded to follow Aki into the garden, perching on his shoulder whenever she needed to rest.

The bird flutters back inside, settling in her makeshift nest, and Aki holds the front door open, gesturing for you to follow.

A faint pout forms on your lips, your brow raising, arms crossing. "You're letting all the warm air out."

Aki lets go of a half-laugh, half-sigh. His hair is tied up, his sleeves are rolled slightly, but his tunic is otherwise neat. If he'd been working out in the garden, usually he'd return with his shirt and his palms covered in dirt; he's cleaned himself up already, it seems.

"There's something I want to show you," Aki says simply, "It's a surprise."

You shift from foot to foot. "What about dinner?"

"I'll help you make something afterwards. It won't take long, I promise."

You give yourself only a moment more to consider.

Following close behind, you allow Aki to lead you behind the cottage, through the clearing, and into the edges of the forest. With the end of the day fast approaching, the air is cooling down; it nips at your arms and your neck with gentle, icy teeth. Your boots crunch on leaves and fallen branches. Shadows envelop the forest floor, the thick canopy above watching over you. A large hill rests just behind your cottage, and you spot it as the whispering trees start to thin.

"Aki," You murmur, staring at his back, your chilly hands shoved in your pockets. The hill is clearly where he's leading you to, but why? "How far is whatever you wanted to show me?"

"Not far. It's right here," He replies, turning around to face you, offering you a reassuring glance. "We're just heading up this hill. I scouted the area already, pretty sure the devils have no idea this spot exists. We'll be able to run back home if anything happens, okay?"

You come to a stop at the foot of the hill, and you glance down. You watch, as you delicately step over the line that forms your magic mushroom circle. The spell splinters, losing its shape, leaving your veins in a rush. Aki is already halfway up the hill, and you hurry close behind him, following him to the top — where the sky finally comes into full view.

The sight you're met with is brilliant.

From the very top of the hill, you can see the clearing and your cottage. You can feel the breeze rustling your clothing and floating through your hair, almost as if you could fly, if you had wings. You're surrounded by hues of bright orange and pink that color every inch of the sky, vivid shades pooling around the edges of the clouds. If you squint, you can just barely glance at the line where the sun meets the horizon, glowing brightly as it begins to dip into the endless line of trees. A fierce dot of radiant yellow, alighting everything it touches in the very same hue.

The wind tugs at your clothes. You place a palm on your forehead, shielding your eyes to look at the sky clearer. You remember climbing this hill when you first made your cottage, but Gods, you've never seen anything like this.

Aki walks further, guiding you to the furthest edge of the hill — and that's when you spot it. A large log placed for the both of you to sit on, with a few blankets draped across it, and a delicately-picked bundle of flowers placed on top.

"Oh- you-" You're talking without thinking, your breath caught in your throat, your eyes wide as you glance between him and the arrangement. Aki is smiling stupidly. He looks at you and then towards the horizon, as though he's still waiting for you to follow.

"You did all of this?" You sigh. "Aki, you didn't have to-"

"I know," Aki interrupts, soft and assured, far too tender. Of course he didn't have to, but this is what he wanted.

"Come here," He says, gesturing once more for you to follow. Your hands clutch the front of your shirt absently, but you trail close behind with unsteady steps. "Make yourself comfortable. Would you like a blanket?"

"I'm okay," You answer. You sit down on the log, awkwardly resting your hands in your lap. Aki swiftly sits down next to you, a foot or so of distance still kept in between.

You shake your head. "I'm not that cold."

"Alright. If you'd like one, just say the word."

Your heart pounds in your ears to a fervent melody. As you fiddle with your hands, you barely notice Aki reaching for the flowers that were resting on the other side of your homemade seat.

They're bundled delicately, stems secured by a thin piece of twine, tied into a messy attempt at a bow. Orchids. Exquisite white blooms, with petals splattered in shades of purple and pink. Your gaze catches on his, something unreadable but surely shy flashing in his expression. The sun's low light makes him look so warm. Aki's grip tightens on the stems, and he clears his throat quietly.

"I've wanted to show you this for far too long, now. And after you mentioned it yesterday, I thought this would be a good place to watch the sunset," He explains, his tone kept smooth, despite the unsureness to his movements as he sets the flowers in his lap. "Hold on-"

Aki chooses one of the smaller orchids. He pulls at the middle of the stem, breaking it off from the rest. Your gaze follows him, as he shifts closer, closing a few threads of distance between you. He reaches forwards, then up, tucking the flower behind your ear, his fingers brushing your jaw as he does so.

He smiles — a terribly soft, utterly lovesick smile. His fingertips linger on the side of your face for longer than they have to. He admires you, the wind pulling faintly at your hair, the flower's colorful bloom practically glowing in the vibrant light of the fading sun. You feel warm, down to your veins; you can hardly think, can't hear anything besides the pound of your own heart. Aki pulls away, his gaze still caught on you, and you find yourself missing the brush of his touch.

"You're so pretty." Aki breathes a low, calm breath. "Prettier than the sun."

Oh. In your vision, Aki seems to glow brightly, outlined by the blues and pinks of the sky. His unkempt bangs brush his eyes, his earrings twirling in the gentle wind. Your hands shake slightly when you take the bundle of flowers from him, your face feels warm — and he swears, more than the flowers, you seem to blossom. A smile crosses your features, fading into the faintest, most perfect laugh.

"You're ridiculous," You chide playfully, shaking your head. Holding the orchids in your lap, you brush your thumb over the soft petals of one of the blooms. You can feel the flower that rests behind your ear, tickling your face when the wind makes it rustle. "I can't believe you did all of this."

Aki hums, "It's nice though, isn't it? You can see the sky so clearly from here."

He's right. The moon is already visible — a thin crescent that plans to usher in the night to come. Crisp cool air fills your lungs with each breath, and as the sun dips lower, the horizon shimmers in fading shades of red. It's lovely on its own, but knowing Aki thought of you, planned this for you, has your mind in such a mess, you can hardly focus on the view.

Aki is no better. He rests his chin in his hand, his gaze on yours, his smile clumsy and endearing. The fading sun and the trees and the sky could never be as captivating as you.

You steal the smallest glance towards him, and when you see him still staring, your shoulders go slack with your light laughter. "You're not even watching…"

"Oh," Aki turns away, trying his hardest — and utterly failing — to hide his smile. "Yeah. I wasn't."

The sun blends into the distant sea of trees like butter melting on a skillet, and although he promised the opposite, Aki finds himself glancing at the sparkle in your gaze once more.

He rolls his shoulders backward. His voice sounds unsure when he speaks.

"I know this isn't much. But I hoped I could do something nice for you, to… I don't know." Aki sighs, struggling to put his words into place. "To thank you, for all the kindness you've shown me."

You glance towards him again, almost forming a rebuttal, but he promptly interrupts.

"And I know I didn't have to. None of this was necessary, I didn't have to do any of the things I've done. But you-" His hands are tense, and he squeezes his own fingers, trying to alleviate his growing tension. He seems so earnest, like his words are more than words, but shimmering stars simply begging to fall — "You deserve more than words could say. You're important. I thought this might be… something you'd find important, too."

Aki stalls, brushing his thumb over his own knuckles. You want to say so much, even though you're sure you shouldn't. Aki, it's lovely, this is beautiful. And this is so, so perfect. I can't remember the last time I felt so happy, if there was any time at all. But words come as stuck constellations whenever Aki has you like this; your heart skips, and you couldn't possibly pick out everything, you can only manage to utter some of them.

Your breathing wavers. "I'm important to you?"

Aki sighs, his gaze meeting yours. "You are everything to me."

Your heart thrums in your chest, iridescent in your throat, drumming firm against your ribs. You're speechless, for more than a few moments. The rest of the world — the shaking trees, the smoke billowing from your distant cottage, the dying sun — pleasantly fades away. Aki weakens, his expression soft and his voice gentle.

"And it's- it isn't just because you saved my life," He explains, "You are kind and thoughtful, and so, so special. There is so much I could tell you. Gods, every time I talk to you, the words- everything flows effortlessly. I've never felt that before. Not once."

Not once. Not with anyone. You shift, trying to catch your breath — trying not to let those words consume you.

Aki's hand rests at his side, mere inches away. His fingers nervously drum the rough wood.

"It's been a pleasure to share these days with you. To learn more about you, to talk and to just- to just be." He goes quiet, before he laughs, his gaze now focused on the distant view. You swear the lightest trace of pink dusts his face, his pointed ears. "You remember that word I taught you yesterday?"

You nod shallowly. "Ardentis." Your head tilts as you try to catch his wandering gaze again. "You aren't talking too much, though."

"Really?" Aki breathes a soft hum, almost in disbelief. "You did say you enjoyed the sound of my voice, once."

Once, and each time after. Your reply comes in the form of a slow, uneven breath, along with the subtle movement of your hand; until your pinky finger is able to brush his just slightly. Barely tender, nothing more than a faint touch, a silent promise. Still, you steady, savoring the feeling of him close to you, and melting in the heat of the thick, molten warmth inside your chest.

Glancing down, unable to face you, Aki hesitates for a fair stretch of time. You're barely able to catch the conflicted look on his features before he moves his hand away, like it'd been burned. His jaw clenches. Your hand craves more of his touch in his absence.

"That- that was too much, wasn't it?" His brows pinch, he almost sounds pained. "Maybe I should-"

He starts to stand, but you stop him halfway. You grab his hand and squeeze it tight — like the action is natural, like it isn't the first time you've tried this. His skin is soft, his palm is rough, his knuckles are ragged with crosshatches of scars. You refuse to let go, even as Aki follows your gaze, slowly sitting back down beside you.

"Don't go," You murmur simply. "Please."

Aki's expression goes terribly, dangerously soft. If you had planned to let go of him, if you hoped that your judgment could guide you and in the interest of caution, you would keep some distance — all of those ideas are rendered useless when he squeezes your hand back. Gentle yet firm, tight enough to make you think he never truly wanted to leave in the first place.

"Aki… I-" Oh, it's so much harder to talk when he's inches away, and when the only thing your mind and pounding heart can focus on is his hand in yours. His hand. You never want to let go. "There's so much I want to tell you, I just- I can't. I don't know if I ever can."

"You don't have to," Aki returns when you falter. "It's alright."

"I know, but I want to. I guess- I would miss you, if you left. So terribly. And-" You stop, sighing. Your bottom lip quivers, everything failing, converging, all of the feelings you shouldn't hold onto and the lies you've told; "I'm sorry."

Aki shakes his head, and softly coos, "You have nothing to apologize for."

You look away, glancing towards his hand in yours. Each inhale and exhale comes quick and sharp. The wind brushes the back of your neck, complimenting the heat that runs through your veins. Aki shifts. His hand is soft and warm, his palm is large, but his fingers are deft and delicate. When they lace with yours, fingers fitting perfectly between the gaps of your own, hands intertwining together, you can't help but wish they would forge. Like a stone statue. To always stay just like this.

"I would miss you more than you know," Aki admits, offering your hand a gentle squeeze. "The days have gone by so fast. It feels like I've hardly had a chance to savor them."

You nod. "I remember when we met. Like it was yesterday."

"Do you?" He smiles, exhaling with an ever-so slight laugh. It wasn't exactly the best introduction. "I was supposed to return to the kingdom that very same night. Ages ago, I should've been back. At every turn, I would tell myself… just a few more moments with you, and then I would leave. Just one more day. And now look at us."

"Oh," You glance back up at him. "Am I keeping you?"

"Of course not." Aki reaches up, and he doesn't hesitate to brush his free palm over your cheek, cupping it gently; the orchid's white petals tickle his fingertips. It takes everything within you not to lean into him. "It was my choice. Besides, I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

The silence that begins to stretch between you is long and thick. Glowing in hues of orange through the darkening sky, you're illuminated by the almost-set sun. Aki's thumb caresses your cheek, and you give in; leaning close, you sigh, you press your hand over his to keep it there.

"If we went to the kingdom," You start; your gaze flickers up to meet his, your words trying not to tremor. "What would we do?"

Aki answers, his tone low, "Whatever you want to do."

"I'd like to visit the sea. And the town square. And the grand library."

"Then let me take you there." Aki's voice is full of conviction, laced with an intensity that strongly shudders through you, "I can show you everything you want to see. I won't leave your side, if that's what you want. We'll make things work- I'll do whatever it takes. I promise."

The impossible odds you've let define you seem meaningless when you let your gaze flicker across him, trying to put the pieces he's given you into place. Instead of the orange in the sky, the green in the trees, the red on the horizon and the red that has painted the back of your vision since you learned how to speak, you see in shades of blue. You dream of the ocean — white waves and rocky seas underneath your fingertips, as you lose yourself in the blue of his gaze.

In every romance book you've ever read, the novels you busied yourself with when you summoned them instead of something factual — sometimes on accident, but then, on purpose — this is when the two main leads would tilt closer. This is when the knight would caress the princess' cheek, whispering how fortunate he is to be together once more. His eyes would flutter shut before they kissed, lips desperately crashing together like sinking ships. Like this is the last time they ever would.

You almost grow lost in those daydreams. Almost. Almost is far too risky of a word, when it is the only thing that separates you from dragging Aki close, running your fingertips along his jaw, and forgetting all reason to press your lips to his.

Thankfully, Aki slowly pulls away. He brushes your cheek one last time, before he shifts back, letting go of your hand. Recognizing the both of you might've grown carried away, you don't attempt to reach out again. You place your hands in your lap, and look elsewhere to catch the final glimpses of the sun's vibrant edge.

You feel cold now. It'd be wise to return home soon, before the forest gets too dark to navigate. Aki seems to have the same idea. Yet, even as you glance back to him to watch him stand, you can't seem to convince your own legs to move.

"Come on," He gathers the blankets he'd brought and keeps them under his arm, before he reaches to you, offering you his hand once more. "We should head back."

Like a book snapping closed, fluttery pages pressed back together, the moment lingers, but fades. You take his outstretched hand, and allow him to guide you to your feet. You grab the bundle of orchids, holding them in front of you, staring down at the dainty, delicate petals.

"But-" You look up. "What about…?"

Aki continues once you trail off. "Don't answer. Just think about it, okay?" He drapes one of the blankets over your shoulders, carefully wrapping it around you. His gaze focuses on his hands as he ties the ends together to keep it in place. "About your choice, or about where you'd like to go first. Whichever comes easiest to you."

For now, you can ponder neither of those. When you head down the hill together, leaving the sky behind, all you can think of is how you were definitely, most certainly wrong.

Sunsets must be your favorite.

—

The scarlet songbird takes her leave a few days later.

Her wing has healed, and she's grown strong enough to fly wherever she pleases. After eating her fill of seeds and enjoying the warmth of the fireplace one last time, she patiently waited until morning, before she drifted out the front door and into the forest, her red wings disappearing amongst the trees. She didn't return, even once nightfall came. You're thankful. Her life will continue, as it was always meant to.

Tonight, Aki had promised to collect firewood and start the fire outside, so it'd be ready by the time you were finished with dinner. The cottage is quiet with the absence of his voice and the bird's chirping. The orchids he'd given you rest in a vase on the dining room table. You take your ladle, and continue to stir the warm, nearly complete pot of stew. Then, you reach up and into the cupboard, searching for the seasoning.

You ran out with the last meal you prepared, but you always keep some extra in the very back. Standing on your tiptoes, you fumble blindly, making the various jars clink together as you try to find what you're looking for.

You grab one, unsure if it's the jar you're after. When you set it on the counter, you unfortunately realize it isn't. This was where you were storing your last few shavings of white hazel.

The thin, white leaves have begun to crumble due to age. They're much less potent like this. They should be safer to handle, but a dosage of this size would be much less effective.

Gently, you pop the lid on the jar. A soft, thick scent wafts from the contents, before disappearing almost immediately. The leaves would need to be ingested to serve their purpose. And it would take all of them, most likely. You'd only have one chance.

If you touched them, infusing them with your magic, you could make their effects much stronger. All you would need to do then is dish out the bowls — one for him, and one for you — before dropping all of them into his dish, stirring for a moment until they dissolve. White hazel is tasteless. Besides, Aki never wastes your cooking.

You could make Aki forget all about you. About everything you've told him, and everything that's happened here. He'd forget your cottage, and each moment you shared; they'd all be lost on him. Meeting you, your gentle touches as you brought him back to life. Your late night talks, your days spent growing closer. Everything would be gone, even up to the bird, and that fateful, sunlit, all-too tender evening.

You sigh.

Grabbing the jar, you stroll over to the fireplace. You kneel down to dump all of the leaves into the flames. They crisp up in mere seconds, before they fade away into nothing but dust and ash.

The sea would be nice to visit first. It's the one thing you've always wanted to explore, more than anything else. The sea, and the castle. Briefly, you wonder if visiting the royal castle would actually be a genuine possibility. With the benefit of his royal status, Aki might be able to get you in — perhaps in a few months to a year, depending on when he can get the both of you a party reservation. Oh, but for a royal party, you'd have nothing to wear. Would the shops in town sell dresses?

Maybe you should save your first visit to the sea for a more special occasion. You wouldn't want to go without Aki. Would the harbor look more beautiful at night, with the lighthouses and boats casting glittering lights that rival the stars, or in the morning, when everyone is yet to wake, allowing you to hear nothing but the calm lull of the waves?

Or perhaps, you should see it at sunset.

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki hayakawa x you #aki x you

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cicadadust · 7 months ago

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Godzilla for my (currently unamed) au!!!

Already some things I wanna change with his design while making this. Definitely gunna give em a blue tongue. And probably add more height to the sail along the back of his tail for swimming 🫡.

But here I will ramble on about the Au, and a little bit about this Godzilla:

Welcome to my (Unnamed Au). I'll try my best to explain and keep it brief 🫡.

At some point during Earth's history, the planet's rotation on its axis gradually slowed down and changed. It almost appears as if the Earth completely stopped spinning on its axis (in actuality, it still is spinning), causing day and night to last for half a year on any given point on the planet. Due to this, the planet has been divided into three zones that shift throughout the year. The daylight zone, the twilight zone, and the midnight zone, each with their own extremes.

(I do have this quick doodle of me trying to explain it 😭. The red and blue on the planet is just to signify the different sides of Earth and how it looks like it is not rotating)

The daylight zone: the current area on Earth that faces the sun, cast into the long lasting day. Exposed to this much sunlight for this length of time causes temperatures to soar into the highest temperatures, even causing the ocean itself to heat up. Fires are not uncommon at all, nor are toxic algae blooms that choke up the ocean. There isn't much shade to help avoid the sweltering heat either, and plenty of land had turned into a desert.

The midnight zone: the current area on Earth that faces away from the sun, cast into the long lasting night. It is on the opposite spectrum of the daylight zone, with temperatures dramatically plummeting. Most things become frozen in the wasteland, even freezing parts of the ocean. The wind can be especially harsh along with snowfall on areas of the midnight zone that border the twilight zone.

The twilight zone: the current area on Earth caught between day and night, cast into moments of a long lasting sun set/sun rise depending (these can be divided into their own sub zones. The sunset/sunrise zone) Sandwiched between the extremes of hot and cold, it has caused this zone to have its own extremes. The temperature is often the most comfortable, but It is constantly ravaged by violent storms and rain as the hot and cold air mixes together. The ground itself has difficulty absorbing water, especially in the sunset zone that follows after the daylight zone, causing flooding (and then freezes in the midnight zone).

Life has become extremely difficult for the creatures and vegetation, forcing it to adapt to these new zones that dictate it now. Most life has adapted in a way that is specialized in living in one of these specific zones. Though as these zones shift throughout the year, life must adapt to that, too. Trees and tall plants are a rarity, with the extremes causing them to wither or fall before having a chance to grow tall (besides a few exceptions that have evolved to survive). Most of Earth is covered in fast growing, low demand, and thick shrub brush and plants. With creatures, they either have to migrate across the Earth to stay within their zone, or hunker down and wait out the other extremes. Those who fall behind and can not prepare often perish when trapped in another zone. Although there is one last solution - survive underground.

The Underground: the most stable place on Earth, the deeper you go sheltered from the extremes. With much difficulty adapting to the zone changes on the surface, the now nearly extinct human race has made the unground their home and have begun to slowly thrive again (mostly thanks to the previously established home of the Seatopians, Seatopia!). But being ungrounded comes with its own problems, as exit tunnels are connected all over the Earth to continue airflow to those who reside below. There are plenty of other creatures who are willing to take advantage of this as they, too, seek out a place to shelter from the extremes on the surface.

Godzilla:

Godzilla, he is the king of the daylight zone. Migrating across land and sea as he follows the shift. His limbs are strong and sturdy, allowing for almost continual and steady movement for traveling long distances and swims (although his powerful tail mostly aids in swimming). The sail along his back also helps him regulate his temperature and can even shift colors to help absorb or reflect light. Even though his teeth are sharp, most of his meals come from foraging, digging up tough roots, or even feeding on the toxic algae. Although he can not be picky, an occasional corpse from those who are unlucky will be on the menu. (His bites can be quite dangerous due to this, especially if left untreated)

#godzilla #godzilla design #godzilla au #au #cicadadust #cicadadust au #godzilla alternate universe #alternate universe #world building #godzilla world building l #kaiju #kaiju au #seatopia #Seatopians #sargasso goji #sargasso

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perseabeth · 8 months ago

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The Promise of the Wild Sea

< this is not an official fic yet, i had this AU in my mind for a while, and now i got the time to write few parts of it. if the story was to your liking, i might get encouraged to make it an official fic. i’d like to remind you that i do not own any of the characters, as they all belong to the original myths and Rick Riordan. except for the oc Callista. however, i made some alternation in the myths that could benefit my story. i hope you like these changes. also this is a fem!percy version. enjoy reading >

- 1184 BCE, The fallen city of Troy -

Apollo stood in front of Callista’s pyre, the flames not yet lit, his gaze fixed on her lifeless face. Her once radiant beauty now drained, her cheeks no longer flushed with the color of life. Her hair, dark as the starless night, framed a visage that seemed at peace, a peace she had found only in death. Yet, she had stolen his peace with her departure, leaving him hollow and bereft.

With painstaking care, he had smoothed away every bruise, every mark of the cruelty she had endured, wishing to present her to the underworld in the full splendor of her glory. His Callista, his heart. He clutched the two drachmas in his hand, the coins a symbol of her final journey, but to him, they were a cruel reminder of his eternal separation from her. How could he consign her to the underworld, knowing he would be condemned to an eternity without her by his side?

His soul ached with a grief that seemed too vast to contain. With a trembling breath, he placed the drachmas on her closed eyes, sealing her fate, preparing her for her voyage to the underworld. She deserved a realm free from the sorrows of war and the sting of death, a place of peace and light. He swore on his immortal soul that she would find solace in Elysium.

Apollo leaned down, his tears falling like rain upon her serene face, pressing a final kiss to her cold, unresponsive forehead.

“Farewell, my Callista... until we meet again, my angel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun god cradled her cheeks in his trembling hands, his soy blue eyes filled with the agony of days spent pleading with his uncle, the merciless lord of death, for this moment. She was there in his embrace, radiant as the true princess she was, her beauty untouched by the shadows of the underworld. Her black hair cascaded down her back like the soft night sky, a dark tapestry embroidered with stars in silken threads. Her eyes, those mesmerizing sea-green eyes, gazed up at him—the very eyes he had yearned to kiss open one last time before cruel fate tore her away.

But nothing unfolded as he had hoped.

"My lord," Callista whispered, her eyes shining with boundless love for the man before her. She wore a white, elegant chiton that clung to her form with an ethereal grace, adorned with a delicate laurel crown—a vision of Trojan royalty. Apollo shook his head, refusing to accept the words forming on her lips. "No, you are coming with me," he implored, tears welling up in his sky-blue eyes, each drop a testament to his anguish. He was begging, pleading for her to return with him to the world of the living.

The princess before him shook her head gently, her gaze unwavering. "No, my lord, I am dead. I am happy here," she said softly. She took his palm, still cradling her cheek, and pressed a tender kiss upon it, as if sealing their fates with that simple, heartbreaking act. "You must respect the rules of death, my love. You must go on and find happiness in the lands of the living."

Her words stabbed his heart, despite the delicateness of her voice, despite the sweetness of her words, and despite the loveliness of her eyes. She was pushing him away, each word like a dagger twisting deeper.

Callista looked at him again, her gaze filled with a sorrowful resolve. "I'm with my family, and you should be with yours. Lord Zeus will not be tolerable when he hears that you brought me back from death."

Apollo tried to reason with her, desperation lacing his voice. "But Uncle Hades has already accepted," he argued, only to be met with another tender kiss on his palm from Callista.

"I'm not letting you get into an argument with your father," she replied softly. She lifted her hand and gently caressed the strand of his hair falling on his forehead. Her melodic voice continued, soothing yet heartbreaking. "You will live on. You will find happiness again, I'm sure."

"My happiness is with you only," he insisted, his voice breaking.

But Callista only shook her head with a sad smile. "That's what you're saying now, because the pain is so new. But trust me, my love... time will go on, life will go on." She looked into his eyes, her determination unyielding. He knew there was no way to change her heart. She gave him a beautiful smile that could have brightened his days if not for their situation. "You did all you could. You made sure I found my final rest in a beautiful place. Now it's your turn to let go... to move on."

Apollo's tears threatened to fall, threatening to drown his eyes. He did the only thing he could do in that moment; he planted a soft, small kiss on her lips, a goodbye kiss filled with all the sorrow of a love that could never be. It was a kiss that spoke of unending longing and the crushing weight of farewell.

He would never force her to do anything. If she was happy, he would be happy, even if it meant an immortal lifetime of his heart shattering every day he remembered that she wasn't waking up next to him.

His time in the underworld was ticking away, leaving him with precious few moments to spare in the arms of his beloved. How cruel fate is, he thought, that even time refuses to grant him a longer respite to find peace in her embrace one last time.

He kissed her forehead once more, a goodbye kiss—the same kiss he had planted on her brow the day of her pyre, the day they consigned her body to the flames in a solemn ritual of farewell. He looked into those beautiful eyes one last time. "I swear to you, I’ll always find you in the stars, in the calm oceans, in the beautiful sunlight, in the warm flames, and in the serene mountains. You will always haunt me, forever haunt my life, Callista."

This earned him a sad smile from her beloved face, and he realized he loved all her smiles except this one. "Who knows, maybe someday you will find me again, amidst the moors or maybe in the wild sea."

He nodded, a silent nod, as a single tear traced a path down his cheek. He kissed her hands one last time and turned his back, leaving his beloved, leaving his heart, leaving the bane of his soul in Elysium, where she belonged. Before he stepped away, he turned to her one last time. "Someday, I’ll find you in the wild sea."

With that, Apollo left the underworld, each step a testament to the immortal lifetime of sorrow that awaited him, a sorrow he would bear for the love he could never truly hold again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- December, 2007. New York City-

"And now, sis. Transportation for the Hunters, you say? Good timing. I was just about ready to roll.

"These demigods will also need a ride," Artemis said, pointing to us. "Some of Chiron's campers."

"No problem!" Apollo checked us out. "Let's see... Thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

"Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—"

"Brother," Artemis said. "You should get going."

"Oh, right." Then his gaze landed on me, and his eyes widened with a mixture of shock and recognition, as if he had glimpsed a long-lost memory. The once vibrant blue of his eyes now bore golden freckles, a haunting reminder of his divine nature. "Callista?"

I met his gaze, my heart pounding with confusion and uncertainty. Was he mistaking me for someone else, someone from his past? “No. I mean... no, sir."

Calling a teenager "sir" felt awkward, but I knew better than to offend an immortal. They were known to have volatile tempers, and tended to get offended easily. Then they blew stuff up. and now Apollo seems to be on verge of blowing things up, or me perhaps.

His silence stretched on, his eyes still fixed on me, probing and searching. It was as if he was peering into my soul, unraveling the layers of my being with each passing moment.

Eventually, his gaze shifted to his sister, Artemis, who offered him a subtle shake of her head. Their silent exchange felt like a wordless, deep conversation, conveying a depth of understanding that transcended spoken words. Apollo cleared his throat, breaking the tension that hung in the air, before turning his attention back to me.

His gaze shifted abruptly from sheer confusion to a myriad of emotions I couldn't quite pinpoint. It reminded me of the way my mom once described my reaction to blue cookies or a serene beach—a mix of wonder and longing. Yet, as he looked at me, I saw something more. His eyes, now a crystal-clear sky blue, brimmed with an affection that seemed to encompass the entire world. It was a strange sensation, one that left me feeling oddly nervous, knowing that he was a god who could unleash his power at any moment. If it were anyone else, I might have blushed under their gaze. But facing a god for the first time, unsure if he was friend or foe, left me feeling unsettled rather than flustered.

"Percy Jackson," Apollo's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. For a moment, it felt as though time itself had frozen, as if I were caught in a web of his penetrating gaze. I nodded silently. Then, without a word, he turned away, his attention shifting back to the group. The weight of his gaze that seemed to convey the burden of centuries, left me unsettled.

"Well!" he exclaimed in a cheerful voice again, as if the past few moments were nothing, breaking the silence. "We'd better load up, huh? The ride only goes one way—west. And if you miss it, you miss it."

—

i’d love to hear your opinion about this.

#today is my turn to make you sad #i noticed smth wrong i’ve done here #he calls her ‘’my muse’ not ‘my angel’ idk why i wtote it like that lol #ill edit all in the official fic #but it was a quick one shot #percy jackson #pjo #female percy jackson #apollo #retelling of myths #perpollo #fem percy jackson #phoebus apollo #fanfic #pjo fanfic #percy x apollo #trojan war retelling #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus

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candyspandemonium · 11 days ago

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The 2024 Wrap Up

Aaaaaaand she's back. It's been a *year* but I wanted to do a post for the end of it, showing how many stories I've written and what type of project I did.

Writing :

9-1-1

To Forget Or Not Forget

When Christopher asks Buck for help when he's supposed to stay with Ana for the night, Eddie has to think about what he really wants to do with his romantic life.

Baby Whisperer

Athena and Hen open the door quickly and they look relieved to see them. “Buckaroo,” Athena sighs. “Thank God you’re here.” “This is a rescue mission,” Hen whispers. “We need your help.” “What’s going on?” Buck asks, his voice full of confusion. (...) “Baby whisperer!” Chimney calls. “Good. Tag, you’re it. Margaret, please give Jee to Bu – Evan.”

Another Side Of You

“Am I in trouble?” Chris asks as soon as he sees their faces. “No, Superman.” Buck smiles. “We just want to talk to you about something important,” Eddie says. Chris sits at the table, with Buck and Eddie across from him. “Are you and Buck going to date?” Chris asks. Eddie almost chokes on thin air, not expecting the question. Buck passes a nervous hand through his hair.

Child Whisperer

Or after Eddie and Buck get officially together, the 118 kids make sure that Eddie knows he can't mess with their Buck.

To Have A Home

After their break up, Taylor announces that she's pregnant. Buck must decide whether he wants to be a father. A story of the importance of family and of how to build a home.

Howling Love

Or the one where Eddie and Chris are werewolves and just cuddle with Buck.

Howling Protection

Or the Buckley parents are in town and Eddie loses his mind a bit.

Loving You Without Losing You

A 7x04 reaction. Buck goes on his date with Tommy. Eddie and Buck finally talk about their feelings.

Leap Of Faith

Eddie has to deal with the consequences of telling Buck to date Tommy until they're both ready to finally do something about their relationship.

I Think I Wanna Marry You

“Eddie,” Buck whispers-shout. “Do you remember last night?” He watches as Eddie looks down, sees the moment he notices the band around his finger, and can tell the exact moment the memories hit him. Buck looks at his own hand. Fuck. Yeah it’s real. “We – we got married.”

Bingpot

Or Buck, Eddie, Chimney, and Hen plan a heist to settle the debate of "who is the best duo of the 118". Buck and Eddie find love in the process. Bobby just wants to have some peace. A Brooklyn 99 inspired one shot for @gremlinsdiaz.

Raise Me Up

Or Buck and Eddie use a MMO to get Christopher to come back home, and maybe they get more than they planned.

500 Days Of Buck

Or 500 days of Eddie Diaz pining after his best friend.

Crossovers

Clarity a 911/RWRB crossover

Or while in Texas, Eddie confronts his own feelings with the help of his cousin and the Prince of England.

Tales of Lizards and Love a 911 Lone Star/RWRB crossover

in which Carlos and Alex were high school friends and talk about their boyfriends after their engagement.

Red White & Royal Blue

Maps

In which a failing mask is the cause of Alex and Henry's friendship. As time passes, they learn to navigate life but mostly love. It's a long, messy road ahead but they have each other, right?

Scratch Me (To Sleep)

Or Alex listens to FoxyAsmr to fall asleep. What he doesn't know is that his new roommate isn't as much of a stranger as he thought.

Made For Love

Ice-Dancing AU! Where Henry and June are partners and Alex is just a mess.

Pick You Up (And Put You Back On Your Feet)

He doesn’t really know what they’re supposed to do now, uncharted territories and all of that but he’s hit with another memory from years ago. A stupid mistake, a challenge Alex had thrown Henry while he was drunk out of his mind. Can you carry me? Boy, had Henry delivered. Of course he had.

Weather Boy

“Hi,” Henry smiles despite himself. “What has the grass done to you?” Alex asks. “Nothing. It’s the rain.” Henry mumbles. “You’re bothered by the rain?” There’s amusement in his voice and Henry wants to – wants to what? Groan? He can’t when Alex is nuzzling his neck and is all warm and soft from sleep behind him. He lets himself fall deeper in his embrace, puts his hands on his arm, and squeezes, enjoying the way he can feel the muscles below his fingers. “I had plans,” Henry mutters. “Now the plan is ruined because of the bloody rain.”

Knitting / Crochet :

I got back to knitting this year and made three scarves for friends.

I also finally managed to start my crochet journey, making six hats (four of those were minis for little figurines a friend of mine has) so we'll see what 2025 brings!

I might post pictures later on if anybody is interested.

That's pretty much it. If you've made it this far, congratulations <3

I'm wishing everybody a happy end of the year!

If you want to share YOUR projects, don't hesitate <3

#end of the year #rwrb fic #911 fanfic #ao3 #rwrb #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #fic writing #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 abc #candyspandemonium

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abidolly · 2 months ago

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I saw this painting by Boris Nemensky in the gallery, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was heartbreaking and beautiful, so I put this little story I had around it into words—and of course, made it about Sebastian and Ominis. Consider this drabble an AU from another life. But I gave it a semi- happy ending. What they desreved.

There was silence all around, only the distant barks of stray dogs echoing through the still air. They were always the first ones, either brave or hungry enough to dare out of the trenches when the whistling of bullets stopped.

It had stopped long ago. Sebastian was alone in his dirt hole—not the only body there, but the only one alive. He took a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of the man whom, just a few hours ago, he'd warmed with his own body heat so they could survive the night.

Now there was no more warmth to be found from anyone around.

It was quiet for too long. Maybe it was all over. Maybe he had gotten lucky again.

He heard a cough from another foxhole not too far from where he was lying.

So he wasn’t alone.

Was it an ally or an enemy, though?

Sebastian remained as quiet as possible. If anyone saw him, he could pass for just another corpse. Playing dead to stay alive.

Time dragged on. Hours, maybe a day. No help came. But no enemy either. He wasn't hungry, but he craved lighting a cigarette more than anything. He didn't, though.

Before morning came, a rain began to fall. Sebastian didn't have to move; he just opened his mouth to catch some drops. He swore the water hissed in his dry throat as he swallowed.

He must have fallen asleep. Dogs were sniffing around. He had to move. He threw a rock in their direction. They snarled but left. His body wasn't worth the fight for them.

As dawn approached, the sky tinged with hues of grey and pale pink, Sebastian heard anoher faint cough from the nearby trench. Desperation gnawed at him. He summoned his courage and whispered into the silence.

“Who's there?”

A moment of hesitation, then a reply came—hoarse and weary. “Ominis. Ominis Gaunt.”

Sebastian drew a sharp breath. An enemy name. “Are you hurt?”

“Depends on your perspective,” Ominis answered with a dry laugh. “I'm alive, for now.”

“Ally or enemy?” Sebastian pressed.

“Does it matter anymore? We're the only ones left, it seems.”

Sebastian pondered this. Ominis sounded young. In another life, they might have been friends, but in this one? Was Ominis the one who killed the men around him? Did Sebastian kill Ominis’ friends? Did it really matter anymore? Alone, they were meat for dogs.

After a long pause, he spoke. “I'm Sebastian Sallow,”

“I have some gin here,” said Ominis. “Not good stuff, but it keeps you warm.”

“I've got some cigarettes.”

Silence stretched between them screaming with unspoken fears.

“Truce?” Ominis dared.

“Truce,” Sebastian agreed.

Slowly, cautiously, Sebastian emerged from his trench, raising his hands slightly to show he meant no harm. Across the scarred earth, Ominis did the same. They approached each other, the distance closing step by step.

Up close, Sebastian saw that Ominis was as exhausted and battered as he felt—mud-caked uniforms, unshaven faces, eyes empty as if they were already dead.

Sebastian offered a cigarette.

Ominis accepted it with a faint smile. "Much appreciated." He pulled out a small flask and handed it to Sebastian.

Sebastian took a swig and grimaced at the harsh burn. “Terrible,” he muttered.

Ominis sniffled. “Told you.”

They sat on the ground, backs against the remnants of a shattered wall. The silence between them was somehow comforting. Smoke curled into the damp morning air as they both took long drags.

#sebinis #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #drabble

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flightfoot · 2 months ago

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any fic recs for like... disability aus? disabled characters? like that one epilepsy marinette fic.

Sure! I'm gonna have some incomplete fics in this one as well, since there just aren't a ton of them, and I think most of them are decently satisfying even when they ARE incomplete.

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balancing act by fictionalinfinity

“Besides, being Ladybug always came first. It came before school, friends, and sometimes even family. Now it had to come before her health. Marinette had a duty to Paris. She wouldn’t let them down.” Or, being both Ladybug and the Guardian starts to take its toll on Marinette. - the epilepsy au literally no one asked for

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Love at Last Sight by ClaraOswald16

The final battle against Monarch has arrived, but things do not go as planned for our favorite superheroes. The battle leaves Marinette blind. Marinette and Adrien must come to terms with their new realities, but finding a new normal turns out to be harder than expected. This is a story of love, loss, and finding strength in each other.

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Lows and Highs (Of Adrien Agreste) by Blackcats_Butterflies

Adrien Agreste- Teenage supermodel, son of Gabriel Agreste, hero of Paris... Type One Diabetic. When Adrien is diagnosed with a chronic illness, he goes through the mental struggles of dealing with this new life. Nothing will ever be the same again, and if anyone were to find out, he'd be humiliated. The world would find him repulsing. Who would want to love someone who was constantly giving themselves shots? Marinette would. (Based off my real life, when I was diagnosed at 13 years old.) ***There's a prequel in part 1 of this series which is Adrien's diagnosis!! Can be read as stand alones.*** TW: Mentions of drugs (no one does them) and the following stuff that will appear in chapters: - Needles - Blood - Paralysis - Seizures - Fainting

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A Little Fall of Rain by Druwho

Unable to transform in time, Marinette sacrifices her life to save Adrien from an assassin. With the help of the Kwamis, Adrien is able to bring her back to life, but it comes at a price. One that Adrien alone must pay. Now, Adrien is forced to keep even more secrets. The fact that Marinette is alive and that she has been his Lady all long. More than ever, they must defeat Hawkmoth. Only then can Marinette return to her life.

The disability in this one is temporary, but it's still significant, and coping with it makes up a decent amount of the fic. Plus it's just plain a good story.

---

Sadame (さだめ) by @xhanisai

Bittersweetly, he wished that he was normal. That he could just say what was on his mind and converse with everyone around with ease and not be treated as if he was made of glass that was ready to shatter at any moment. That he could laugh properly whenever Ladybug made one of her silly faces at an annoying Akuma and be able to tell her to her face how much he truly loved her. That he would do anything for her. Until then, he wouldn’t let anything stop him from expressing himself and treating his loved ones the way he wanted to treat them to the best of his abilities. (The shock and anguish upon the disappearance of his beloved mother was so strong, it took away Adrien's ability to speak at ten-years-old. As if losing his means to communicate wasn't bad enough, he became practically invisible to his father after that event. Ultimately, Adrien believed he was broken and would only cause pain to anyone who came close but that all changed when he found the Miraculous of Destruction in his room and met Plagg, Nino, Alya, Marinette and...Ladybug. Soon he began to see the light again.)

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My Fair-Y Lady by Eostre94

Inspired by the Lady Fairy AU. Marinette is both blind and holder of the Butterfly Miraculous, helping Chat Noir against Le Paon’s and his monstrous Asura. Will Lady Fairy, her Champions and Chat Noir finally defeat the Peacock user, all while uncovering more as everything begins to unravel? How will this story of magic, mystery, friendship, love, and faeries play out?

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see a world so beautiful and strange (spinning off somewhere) by @that-was-anticlimactic

“Why? Why are you suppressing?” “Because I can't tic,” Alya whispered, fingernails digging into the skin on her arm. “I know Tourette’s isn’t exactly uncommon, but it’s part of my identity as Alya Césaire. It can’t be a part of Rena Rouge, too. Someone could figure out who I am and then…” And then she’d have to give up the coolest thing that’s ever happened to her, give up living her dreams. [or, alya suppresses as rena rogue in order to protect her identity, but neither ladybug nor trixx will let her hurt herself like that]

I love how this fic goes into some of Alya's thoughts and insecurities about having Tourette's, how the general public doesn't understand, and then lets her receive comfort and validation afterwards. It's just... really nice.

#ask #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic rec #disability au

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 2 years ago

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Genshin Sagau Idea

I'm not entirely sure if this has been known before (i'm falling behind in my genshin sagau reading, sobbing) but you know how the reader is considered as the "Creator" and all that? So I was thinking...

That during the hunt, Reader figures out how to make their OCs (or, in general, characters) come to real life and aid them. Just imagine all the possibilities! If Reader can actually create characters in Sagau Imposter AU, this makes it a whole lot more challenging for the characters to a) catch Reader and b) trust the imposter on the throne. They all know that these OCs were never seen before, so where are they coming from? The imposter certainly couldn't have created them, they attack the characters on sight or just act straight up hostile!

Though I feel like this is a little bit too OP, so I'll place a few restrictions that I think might make it a bit more interesting:

✦ Reader can only make up to 3 characters at a time. Just to prevent Reader for making like- an army in less than 30 seconds- Oh, and what would happen if Reader would make more than 3? Well, the 4th would malfunction, and Reader may feel a great backlash of some sort. It's only after Reader claims their throne that all characters can co-exist without a limit. This is because the throne is known as the Creator's Throne, the throne they made once they finished creating Teyvat. It's long forgotten and abandoned before the Imposter took its seat.

✦ Each character can only have one element/main power that they rely on for the most part. Said-powers cannot be manipulation to light, shadows, time, etc., just to prevent OP characters. The character has to have a basic key of one of Genshin Impact elements. For example, Reader could make OC #1 have powers to control rain. This is allowed because it's focused around the basic key of hydro. If the Reader wishes to use another element because they want OC #1 to turn that rain into a storm, it is allowed, because they will need either anemo or electro. However, Reader cannot give OC #1 both anemo and electro with their current hydro. Reader can only give another basic key element to thus make it OC #1's element: storm manipulation. (In a way, think of it as Andrius. The dude is known for the cold winds, and that's a combo of cryo and anemo.)

✦ Each character must have a well-built/decently enough of a backstory in order for it to function. This includes the basics of personality, like "honest," "caring," "Sly," etc. They can also have their own kind of quirks, but as long as the basics of the character's personality and their backstory are created, Reader doesn't need to fully focus on the more unique parts at the very moment. What would happen if Reader tries to make a character with not enough basic backstory or personality? They act like rag dolls. Sure, Reader's made them, and they gave them powers, but they need their own personality and backstory in order to function. People are based off of memories, which extends to their personality, favorite things, etc.

✦ Once killed, Reader is unable to revive said-character until they reclaim their throne, once and for all. Yes, the characters can die! They can be killed if they are not careful, so the Reader needs to make sure their 3 characters don't immediately throw themselves into danger, especially if Reader is already emotionally attached to said-character(s). If a character does die, they will stay as a dead corpse until they are cremated, which they will then turn into golden and silver dust. If Reader had already made up to 3 characters and one of them dies, Reader can make a new OC on their team. The reason why I said "until" is because I would feel kinda bad just killing off one of my own OCs, so until Reader can reclaim their title as "creator" and throw the imposter off their throne, the character stays dead.

✦ Reader cannot make duplicates of the same character. This ties with the previous one. Say OC #1 dies in a battle to let the Reader escape, OC #2 & #3 following them to protect them. Reader cannot make a duplicate to replace OC #1. They have to make another character entirely. Thus OC #4 exists. Reader can make twin OCs, however, they will occupy two slots of their 3 Character team.

I have a feeling once Reader reclaims their title as the Creator, their OCs will be called something like "The Divine Legion" or smth lol. It would be very interesting to see though!

Alright, that's all I got! Thanks for reading :) The Ghost Rebel's out!

Ghost Rebel Side Note: I think this is one of my longest posts yet! And thank you all so much for 69 followers; this means a lot to me! I've also been thinking—should I try making headcanons for specific characters for Sagau Genshin? I can't promise every personality of each character will be exact (most likely some will be too OOC), but I want to try a little. Would do you think? Feel free to let me know of anything else you want to add to this post! I might make a part 2 if people actually like this idea :) Alright, I'm heading out now. See you all later!

✦ Request/Ask/Mail Box: Check The Ghost Rebel's Blog Description! ✦

#genshin impact sagau #sagau genshin #genshin sagau #genshin self aware #self aware genshin #genshin imagines #sagau #sagau brainrot #sagau x reader #sagau impostor au #genshin isekai #imposter sagau

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streetsweepershenanigans · 11 months ago

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Street Sweeper's Icemav Masterlist

Updated 2/1/2024

Fics are listed in order of most recent to oldest.

Oneshots:

(Posted to AO3):

Wanting for Home- Very whumpy, as with everything, please heed the tags and warnings. Features Mav going through a sexuality crisis with internalized homophobia mixed in due to the time period and his position in the United States Military. Happy ending, though, don't worry. Hurt/Comfort.

Silence Is (Not) A Virtue- Another whumpy one, this time with some past child abuse resulting in selective mutism. Hurt/Comfort.

Third Time's The Charm (Oblivion AU)- A purely self-indulgent Oblivion AU with Top Gun characters. This is a companion piece to In My Dreams I See Us Falling, told from Ice's point of view.

In My Dreams I See Us Falling (A Top Gun Oblivion AU)- The first of my Oblivion AU's. If you have seen and enjoyed Tom Cruise's Oblivion, I highly recremond these.

No Use Crying Over Spilt Milk- A single!parent Maverick fic wherein he is forced to come clean to Ice about having a kid after they've been seeing each other for a while.

Here Lies Iceman's Personal Space- A fluffy domestic fic about Maverick invading Ice's personal space and somehow endearing himself to Ice even more.

Caught In The Headlights- A whumpy hurt/comfort fic featuring parental Icemav and baby Bradley. After Maverick is seriously injured in a car accident, Ice has to contend with the reality that he might be all Bradley has left in the world.

It's (Not) Okay (But It Will Be)- Maverick suffers a life-altering injury during the events of the uranium mission and now he and Ice must learn how to contend with the past and move forward together.

Just Like The Song- Drunk Maverick finds his way to Ice's house in the middle of the night and shenanigans ensue.

Mother Goose Knows Best. - Stranded in the rain after class, Maverick can either walk home or accept a ride from the last person he wants to be stuck in a car with.

The Winner Takes It All (I Don't Wanna Talk)- A sweet, soft, fluffy, domestic one-shot- my first ever Icemav fic. Sometimes, actions speak louder than words.

(Posted to Tumblr exclusively):

Baby Goose's First Swear Word- The story of how Baby Goose learned his first swear word.

One Day (An Icemav Fic)- Iceman and Maverick always find their way back to one another- even decades later.

Lunch Mix Up- Ice and Baby Goose's lunches get mixed up one day.

How Do I Say Goodbye? - Angsty short one-shot featuring Maverick having to come to terms with losing the closest thing he's ever had to a father.

Multichapters:

Caught In Oblivion- Chapters: 4/6- A full-fledged and fleshed-out Oblivion AU with our beloved Top Gun Characters. Very self-indulgent, but you can read it too. 4/6 chapters.

Icemav Imagines (Open for use if you feel inspired by any of them, just tag me so I can read):

Italian Maverick

Maverick vs the smoke detector's dead batteries-

#icemav #top gun #iceman x maverick #maverick #iceman #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav fic #street sweeper's master list

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fridaynightaus · 3 months ago

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New AU jumpscare! This one is known as "Lucid Evening Lullabies" (or just "Lucid Lullabies" for short). Inspired by games like Nightmare Ned, American Mcgee's Alice, Among the Sleep, and Yume Nikki (among other things).

This AU begins with Jacob (aka "Boyfriend") coming down with a bad case of insomnia, he doesn't know why or how it happened, but he's been getting less sleep than usual, affecting his performance. His girlfriend Amber (aka "Girlfriend") decides to give him a music box to help him sleep. And sure enough, it works! Just a short tune or two and he's out like a light.

However using the music box had some unintended side effects. As when Jacob falls asleep, he falls into to surreal, vivid, and life-like dreams. But there's nothing bad about that...right?

Well, when there are dreams, there are also nightmares...And opening his eyes will not be enough for him to escape them. He must conquer them, one way or another. For if he doesn't wake up safe and sound...He may never wake up at all...

Anyways. Similar to Alice Madness Returns, Jacob and Amber's outfits change for each night (night's being the AU's version of "Weeks"). Each one of them themed after the dreams, which are in turn are based around the familiar faces and experiences BF has encountered in the past.

Outfit and night descriptions below!

Pajamas

Jacob's default outfit, and the one he always has in the beginning of the dreams.

He wears a blue long sleeved top with white accent lines and buttons, as well as a pocket with a white crescent moon on it. He also wears a pair of long, slightly baggy, blue plaid pants that are tucked into red slippers.

Night 1 ("Sleepy Hollows")

The first night is based on Week 2. It takes place on Halloween night in a suburban town bursting at the seams in Halloween decor and aesthetics, with the trees raining leaves of orange and yellow (think Halloweentown and the town in Hocus Pocus. That is until Jacob, Amber, and the spooky kids come across a decrepit mansion, where inside there are no treats...only a sour trick...

Here, Jacob wears a Jason Voorhees Costume (to match Amber's costume, which is a bit more thematically appropriate given the context. But can also be seen as a reference to Spooksides as his counterpart got his first name after the hockey masked killer). He has the hockey mask on the side of his hide, attached to a black strap. He is wearing a dark green shirt, a dark brown belt, a pair dark blue jeans, black gloves, and black boots which his pants are tucked into. His shirt and pants have (fake) blood stains on them. He is also wielding a fake machete, which has the blade stained with fake blood.

He does actually get to use it at some point, just not in the way one would think when it comes to using a machete...

Night 2 ("Final 'Xamination")

The second night is based on the events Pico's School, and a bit of Week 3. Just from that alone, you can tell this dream's quite closer to home for the little rapper. As a vile invader stalks the building, out of sight...waiting...watching. And a all-too familiar face has noticed that as well, but he's no sweet dream himself...

Jacob's uniform consists of a white, short-sleeved buttoned shirt, a blue tie, a blueish-gray sleeveless sweater. blue pants, and black loafers.

Night 3 ("Rose Fields Forever")

The third night is based on Week 6. With Jacob and Amber finding themselves in a "garden" (It's actually less of a garden and more of a jungle, just replacing the palm trees with cherry blossoms, rafflasia with roses, etc), the denizens welcoming them with open arms. Inviting them to become "hosts" for the upcoming festival to honor their handsome, flowery, idol.But soon they will learn that every rose has it's thorns...and a festival might not be the only thing they'll be hosting...

Jacob's outfit is a ancient Greek-based outfit. With a white tunic with gold accents. a gold belt, a blue toga fastened with reddish-pink gem with a gold base, and a pair of golden sandals. He also has a forget-me-not flower in his hair.

I also have a fourth night planned that centers around Inferno (BF's encounter with Blaze) but I just wanted to do the first three for now while I still try to figure that one out.

#lucid evening lullabies #friday night funkin #fnf au #friday night funkin au #fnf fanart #friday night funkin fanart #fnf boyfriend #boyfriend fnf #boyfriend friday night funkin #friday night funkin boyfriend #tw blood #(( It's fake blood but still ))

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sacredjake · 1 year ago

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Carpe Noctem

pairing: Jake Kiszka x Siren!Reader

warnings: MDNI 18+!!! blood, death, killing, angst, cursing, supernatural elements, brief mention of weapons and minor assault, guilt, talk of dying, smut, fluff, soulmate au

word count: 13.8k

This fic will display themes of death and killing, and i will do my best to tag every warning, but if i miss one please, please, please bring it to my attention.

As Nympha Legatus of your pod you must do what it takes to complete the duty bestowed upon you and your sisters. Even if it means killing the man you love. Will fate continue to haunt you or will you give in to what you truly desire?

a/n: this fic has been almost a month in the making and even longer in the brainstorming stage and i am so excited to share it with everyone! thank you @malany-gvf for always helping me talk out the ideas i have. huge, massive thank you to @gold-mines-melting for giving endless feedback, support and suggestions and taking time to read this and edit it. i appreciate and love you both so much, thank you from the bottom of my heart <33333

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Light from the full moon overhead illuminated your already glistening skin every so often as clouds passed by. The silver rays that shone upon you reflected a scene like the ocean you had emerged from, like moonlight glittering off the waves. The night was misty, rain falling lightly as your pod walked through the streets towards the closest club or bar. Forgoing the need for a coat, raindrops dotted the exposed areas and rolled off seamlessly disguising the naturally dewy texture of your skin.

The rain was purposeful, a product of your magic to blend in better with the humans. If not for that you would look even more out of place with the way your skin looked wet even when dry. It was also a way to ensure everyone was hydrated and avoided drying out. While a quarter of you would not return tonight, at least it would not be from lack of water.

Scuffing from shoes on gravel and rocks being kicked were the only sounds echoing through the dark streets. Some of your sisters were still getting their bearings, it being their first night on legs and all, stumbles were to be expected. Wearing shoes was a major adjustment, but to fit in, shoes were a necessity.

Oh how you missed the days when the humans walked around barefoot. Things were so much simpler then. Before him.

You shook the memory out of your head before it snowballed any further. Now was not the time for that. Focus.

Red light caught your eye as it reflected off puddles and the shiny black gravel. Your eyes followed the trail, landing on multiple different neon signs lighting up the club your pod approached. Like you had expected there to be, a long line formed outside the bar of humans waiting to get inside. At the front stood a tall, large man wearing a tight black shirt and jeans with his arms crossed looking over the line.

Sarenya stopped beside you, and your sisters who followed closely behind mirrored both your actions. She turned to face the pod as you eyed the bouncer a bit longer, sizing him up. When she began to speak you turned around and met the faintly glowing eyes of your younger sisters.

Another distinguishing trait that showed you were not human.

Nymph’s eyes were usually different from the humans’. The color of one’s eyes determined their age and their status. While a siren’s eyes were green in the early stages of their life, red during their middle age and silver in their later years, a mermaid’s eyes were blue, purple and then gold in their respective life stages. The commonality between the two? Every nymph’s iris sparkled. No, not like that disgusting glitter humans loved so much that stuck to everything. Within each iris lay a million tiny flecks of their color in a lighter shade, reflective and bright. And definitely not human.

And yes, mermaids and sirens were both sea nymphs. Humans always tried to make different categories for everything they knew little about, but it was not that complex. Although the technical terms back home were oceanids and naiads, you had learned long ago that people on land had left their original names behind. It didn’t matter much to you honestly, you were all children of the sea, and there wasn’t much difference between a mermaid and a siren anyways beside your eye color and abilities.

Everyone knew sirens had beautiful voices, but this was merely an amplification of their compulsion. While sirens couldn’t compel any other sea nymph, it worked on every other living being. But that’s just the most well known ability. Sirens can also manipulate water, and alter the way something may appear to others. Illusion was the most useful ability a siren could use on a night like tonight.

A mermaid’s abilities were different of course. While sirens could manipulate water, mermaids could control the state of water turning it from liquid to gas to solid. Hence the rain, a combination of both your powers working together. Their most useful power for tonight, however, was their ability to control the emotions of others.

“Alright, we have a few fleshlings with us tonight so we’re going to go over how this works.” Sarenya addressed the pod since she was tonight’s leader. “Use your abilities, rule number one. We are here for one purpose and we must do whatever it takes to achieve that goal. Rule number two, do not leave any damning evidence behind. We do not need a repeat of 1986 where a scale was left behind for a human to find and cause a frenzy. Rule number three, the humans can be quite attractive, but do not forget that they are not one of us. They are food, not mates. Kill them and move on. Fail and you will die. We can not survive on land.”

At the end of her rules she caught your eye, speaking the last one almost directly to you. Like a reminder. As if you needed one. It made your chest hurt, your heart being squeezed torturously by an invisible vice.

She was right though. You only got one night on land, one night to quench the insatiable thirst and gather enough blood for the members of your pod who were not allowed to join the hunt.

Sea nymphs didn’t rely on blood to survive, it’s not the main source of food. Proteins and sea veggies like kelp and seaweed were a big part of an everyday diet. But human blood was a delicacy, and the key to immortality for a nymph. Just a drop of their blood, and a few ingredients, and you had the key to another ten years of youth.

“We only have nine hours until sunrise. I do not care what you do in that time as long as all of your vials are full when you return and you follow those rules. Remember, when the sun comes up this is finished. If you do not make it back to the ocean by then… Well you get it by now.” For a mermaid Sarenya was quite blunt and cold, but when so many of your sisters fail to return over the years you kind of have to be.

“Fleshlings stick by me until I say otherwise, everyone else, you know what to do.” Her golden eyes landed on yours once more with a reassuring glint to them before she strode off towards the bouncer, fleshlings in tow.

The two of you had been overseeing your pod’s hunt since 1693 when you were both promoted to Nympha Legatus, or Nymph Lieutenant. Rising in rank isn’t an easy thing to do, and it was rarely heard of especially since they usually lived forever, but that was an unusual circumstance. The hunt had started out as it usually did with the Nympha Legatus, Nymerian and Tessaya, leading your pod on the shore before breaking off for the night. As the night progressed things went horribly wrong. It had been a year since anyone had been on land and no one was aware of the witch mania that had overtaken the town of Salem. Along with a few others, Nymerian and Tessaya were captured, accused of being witches and thrown in jail to which they never made it back to the sea. Upon returning to the Nympha Ducem, Nymph Commander, you and Sarenya were the only two old enough within the pod to assume the position which required one mermaid and one siren. Since then she has been by your side through everything. You looked out for one another and always made sure the other made it back to the sea even if they had wavering thoughts.

“Alright everyone, you heard Sarenya, you do what you need to and get back to the beach before sunrise. This isn’t your first Hunt. You know what to expect and how to handle it and we expect you to do just that. Enjoy yourselves, but don’t return home empty handed. Good luck…” Your silver eyes flitted to each of theirs briefly before continuing on the last note before separating.

“Carpe Noctem.” Their voices mingled with your own as they recited the phrase with you. Sharing smiles, you and the pod turned towards the bar and made your way to the big guy in front of the door.

Convincing him to let you in was easy. There was no need to use compulsion on him, your beauty taking care of that all on its own. When he asked for an I.D. however, you knew you had to turn it on. Pretending to look for the nonexistent item you pat down your pockets before giving him a sad, doe-eyed look.

“Oh no… It seems like I left it at home. If I tell you a secret will you let me in?” You could feel the power roll off your tongue, sweet and thick like honey coating each word. The bouncer’s eyes glazed over and he leaned forwards at your request.

“You don’t need to see my I.D. or any of the girls behind me. You know us.” He straightened back up, his eyes still in a haze.

“Oh I didn’t realize that was you! Go on in ladies, I don’t need an I.D. for my best girls.”

There was muttering from the line of humans behind you. Most of them were women expressing their displeasure and jealousy and some were men who were fawning over you and your sisters. Human men were so simple, each one of them the same as the last, year after year. All but one had ever shown you any difference.

The bouncer opened the door and stepped aside letting you walk past him into the crowded bar. Cigarette smoke lingered in the air and blurred your vision slightly as you push through people to find an empty spot to sit. In your experience the hunt always worked better when you let the humans come to you. It was nice to sit and enjoy your time on land, appreciating the music, observing the humans and their strange behaviors, and savoring the cocktails they made. There was work to be done, sure, but you had the time.

After an hour had come and gone of observing and accepting drinks from different men you had found yourself in conversation with one. And by Zeus was he the most obnoxious human you had ever met. Ethan, or so you think you heard right, went on and on and on about how much money his family had and how nice his house was and how he just got back from Italy- blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Pfft. Italy, big freaking whoop you had been there more times than you could count, and you really could not give less of a fuck about his money either. So trivial.

Ethan, or was it Evan, who cares honestly he was about to be dead, kept talking even though you had zoned out long ago. For the last few minutes while what’s his face rambled on you were thinking how exactly you wanted to end his life. Would you promise him sex if he walked out of the club with you only to die in the alley? Or would you use your illusion and kill him right here without anyone noticing? You could also ask him to show you his ‘sick new lambo’ and bleed him dry all over the white leather seats he was raving about. New ideas kept popping into your head, each one better than the last, but your train of thought came to a screeching halt when you caught his eyes.

He looked the same as he did every damn time. Long, slightly wavy chestnut brown hair, a soft yet strong jawline, plush soft lips, and gentle brown eyes lined with subtle dark circles underneath. No matter how many times you saw him he always seemed to steal the air from your lungs.

Once his eyes were set on you they didn’t move. It was like he was trying to piece together where he recognized you from although you knew he never would. Your eyes bore into his own taking you back to when you first met.

June 1713

Dover, England

Twenty years. It had only been twenty years since you were appointed Nympha Legatus which seems like a long time, but in the life of an immortal that’s nothing. Barely scratching the surface.

The first ten years were rough. You and Sarenya had lost every single fleshling each year, none of them returning to the sea. Some were killed in random accidents, and the others just never made it back. On the eleventh year the first fleshling from your pod survived, finally giving you both hope that maybe you could do this. Maybe everything would be okay. Each year after more and more survived until only one or two didn’t return. That in itself was a success.

Sarenya led the speech this year warning your sisters about pirates in the area, and human officers in the streets. Men were not so kind to women, especially pirates, and on land nymphs were at their most vulnerable, the Nympha Ducem deeming it illegal to use your abilities during the hunt in fear of causing suspicion amongst the humans. Deciding to hunt in a well populated port was dangerous, but it also offered a safety that desolate towns could not. More people meant you were less likely to be looked upon for being strangers, the sea was close by and there was safety in large crowds.

“Carpe Noctem.” Everyone spoke the phrase in unison just as they had for centuries before, beginning the hunt.

You wandered the streets for some time before finding a small pub to begin your night. Drunk men were always easy prey. But they were also unpredictable. A man who went by Billy had approached you shortly after entering the rickety establishment and offered his rum to you. The rum should have been the first indicator of who you were dealing with. The cutlass at his hip should’ve been the second.

Between sips of the dark liquor and hollow flirting you had ended up in a back alley with Billy trying to execute your plan for killing him. You had sorely underestimated how aware, sober and strong he was. When he caught on that you were not going to do him any sexual favors the cutlass at his hip had been drawn to your neck with his other forearm laid across your chest, pressing your back into the rough brick. You squeezed your eyes shut and waited for whatever Billy was about to do, but nothing happened.

The pressure against your chest lifted, and the cold metal of the blade at your throat was gone. When you opened your eyes Billy stood in front of you, his hands up in defense, shock and terror written all over his face, dagger pressed to his jugular.

“Drop the cutlass. Now.” A male voice spoke from behind him, commanding but smooth. Billy did as the disembodied voice said, the sword clattering loudly, the metal banging and scraping against gravel.

“Apologize to the lady.”

“I- I‘m sorry miss. Won’t ha- happen again.” Billy stuttered, his legs shaking and hands trembling in the air.

“Leave and don’t come back. If I see your face in Dover again I can’t promise I’ll be as kind a second time.”

The man behind your attacker lifted the blade off his throat, nicking the skin ever so slightly drawing the smallest amount of blood. Finally free, Billy bolted down the street not staying to try and fight. You swore you saw his brown trousers darken as he ran away, streams of piss flowing down his legs. Coward.

When the man straightened up from retrieving the cutlass off the ground you were able to see his face. His brown wavy hair was illuminated by moonlight, plush lips upturned at the corners into a gentle smile, and brown eyes twinkling in the silver beams from above. He was the most gorgeous human you had ever seen.

His smile dropped a fraction when you made no movement, continuing to stare at him with wide eyes. He took a step back thinking he must have frightened you even more and mentally cursed himself. Instead you took a step forward wanting to not be any further from him than you already were.

“It was not my intention to frighten you, my lady.” He hung his head in disappointment and shame, unable to meet your eyes again.

“You did not frighten me, sir. I am just in awe of your beauty.”

You wanted nothing more than to reach out for him. To touch him, and feel his smooth skin under your fingers. You kept your hands to yourself begrudgingly.

The man’s head snapped up so quickly it looked like it hurt. Brown eyes were back on your own, a pink tint flushed onto his cheeks.

“My beauty?” It was incredulous to him that a woman so fair, so breathtaking, was in awe of his beauty.

“Yes.” You took another step closer to him as you spoke.

“The most devine creature I have ever seen is calling me beautiful.”

Your entire body froze. Every muscle and ligament locked in place and rigid. Creature. Did he know what you were?

“Creature?” The word rolled off your tongue with disgust. A word you had always despised.

“Well you certainly can not be human and possess the features of a goddess.”

Just as your body had locked up in mere seconds, it relaxed hearing that what he had called you was a compliment. This was the first time you had actually liked the word creature. It was filled with endearment not disgust.

“What is your name?”

“Jacob.”

“Thank you for stepping in, Jacob. I can only imagine what could have occurred had you not. Would you allow me to buy you a pint as a show of my appreciation and gratitude?”

“Only if you’ll stay and enjoy one with me.” He beamed brighter than the moon overhead, eyes and smile wide.

“I shall join you then.”

The two of you walked down the cobblestone street back towards the small ale house you had come from with Billy. He had asked your name in which you told him earning yet another compliment.

“A name just as beautiful as the woman who bears it.”

You couldn’t describe what he was making you feel. There was never another time during your long life that you had ever felt so giddy and nervous around a human. Jacob was something special indeed.

Time was lost on you once the two of you entered the pub and sat to enjoy a drink. Various conversations about either of you followed naturally, careful to think about your answers. You were not like him after all and one wrong thing could raise questions.

“That’s a pretty blade.” You pointed to the dagger Jacob had set on the table, it had been the same one held to Billy’s neck. The weapon was fairly simple, a straight cross-guard that downturned slightly at the end and thinned out, the grip looked to be wrapped in leather leading to a round pommel with an atocha coin in the middle.

“Thank you, I actually made it. I’m a silversmith.”

Jacob was quite talented. Every piece of weaponry aside from Billy’s he had made himself. A few of the patrons in the tavern had also been carrying around his creations, all of them beautiful. He had taught himself how to fight with a sword, and how to play the guitar. He was the most intriguing human you had ever met.

And yet he would die that night by your hand.

Things had finally been going right for your pod in the last nine years, and you had almost thrown all of it down a trench because of some human. Wasting the night away talking to a human because he saved your life? Because he was a wonder to look at? No, that was not important. What was important was gathering the blood you needed and getting home. You had a mission.

At least that’s what you told yourself when you drained the blood from Jacob, unable to stop. What you had to remind yourself when you saw his body limp and lifeless at your hands. It was what played in a loop in your head any time you thought of how you would never see his beauty again, how you would never admire another human in that way again.

But you were wrong. Fate was cruel and twisted.

You finally tore your eyes away from his and turned back to whatever his name was. He will come just as he always did, but this time you will be prepared. Finally taking a breath from speaking, Erik allowed for a lull in the conversation giving the opportunity for you to suggest the two of you find somewhere more private. Of course he was more than happy to oblige. Naïve human.

Once Edwin was taken care of and you had your vile of blood, you cleaned the mess in the dirty alleyway as best as you could. The door you walked out of had been propped open from the cardboard box you wedged in the doorframe and you slipped back inside easily. Women filled the tiny bathroom, drunk and stumbling as you cleaned yourself up making sure there was no evidence left behind. Satisfied, you left the bathroom and made your way back to where you had been originally sitting.

You sat there for some time watching the humans dance, talk and laugh trying to keep your eyes off of him. A truly fruitless distraction, your eyes trained on his form unable to look away. A part of you knew that you had to cherish this before it was too late. Not knowing how much time would pass before you did see him again.

After what seemed like hours, although you’re sure it could’ve only been thirty minutes, he pushed off the table he was leaning against and made his way over to you. Trying to seem like you had not been staring at him all night, your eyes wandered elsewhere looking for anything remotely interesting. It wasn’t until he was basically right in front of you that you allowed your eyes to shift onto him. He stared down at you, the corners of his lips pulled into the smallest smile.

“Alright if I join you?” His hand was outstretched, palm facing upwards and motioning to the empty seat next to you.

“Not at all.” You smiled back at him and scooted over slightly on the small cushioned bench to make more room.

“I wasn’t going to come over here since you were with someone earlier, but it appears that he left.”

“Yeah,” You chuckled, “Honestly I’m glad I was able to ditch him. He was a bore. Had I known you’d come over sooner I would’ve gotten rid of him a long time ago.”

“Is that so?” His eyebrows raised, the smile on his face only growing in size. You hummed a short “Mmm,” your eyes meeting his for the first time since he sat down.

“I’m Jake by the way.”

Jake extended his hand out to you and you took it, shaking his hand with a firm, but still soft grip. Neither of you could keep your eyes off the other.

“Y/n.”

“Fitting. A name just as beautiful as the woman bearing it.” You could feel your heart skip before it sank. You knew he would say it, but that didn’t make the pain any easier. He dropped your hand and lifted his glass up to his lips taking a sip.

“Not much of a dancer I presume?”

April 1865

Boston, Massachusetts

People were everywhere. In the streets, in the bars, cheering, drinking, celebrating. The perfect time to begin the hunt.

After separating from the pod you found yourself observing the humans while they celebrated victory. The civil war had just ended and their side won. It was fascinating to watch them dance and sing and drink to their hearts desire without any care in the world.

So caught up in watching the humans, you hadn’t even noticed him in the crowd. But he had noticed you, of course he had. Not only were you the only person in all of Boston to not be celebrating in some way, but you were also stunning.

“Not much of a dancer I presume?”

The accent was much different, but the voice was the same. Your head snapped to where he was standing just left of you, shock wracking your entire body. How was it possible? He was dead. You had killed him over a hundred years ago.

“Um… Uh- n-no. Not really.” You stumbled through the shock that had taken hold of you, mind racing.

“I see… C’mon,” He held his hand out to you as an offering. When you didn’t take it he whispered, “If you don’t celebrate in some way they might think you’re a sympathizer. Take my hand.”

You did as he asked and slid your hand into his. He pulled you up from the stoop you were occupying and led you into the street with all the other humans. Musicians were playing loudly out in the open, the songs always fast and upbeat keeping everyone moving. He dropped your hand once comfortable with where you were standing and began a dance you had never seen before. When you didn’t move an inch he stopped.

“Do you not know how it goes?”

“No.” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you shook your head.

“I’ll teach you. Follow my lead.”

“Okay…”

“Jacob. You can call me Jacob.”

Song after song, dance after dance, Jacob leads you into each one. He taught you all the steps, keeping patience the entire time which would not have been an easy thing to do. While you were no fleshling, you definitely looked like it was your first time on legs with how uncoordinated you were.

You talked as you danced the night away. Jacob was just as intriguing the second time you met him as he was the first. He was the same man you had met in 1713, but more modernized. Everything about him drew you in.

Eventually the music died, the streets cleared and it was just you and Jacob left out in the night. The two of you were sitting on the steps of his porch talking under the stars and enjoying each other's company. At some point you were no longer looking at the empty street or the starry night sky, but looking at one another instead. Jacob’s eyes traversed every part of your face like he was trying to memorize even the smallest details. After a few moments of this he sighed dreamily.

“May I kiss you?”

“You want to kiss me?”

“More than anything.”

“Then yes, Jacob, you may.”

You had kissed plenty of humans in your lifetime, none of them ever meaning anything significant. But when Jacob’s lips touched yours for the first time you had finally realized why humans liked to do this. Your entire body felt… alive. The feeling was the strangest, yet most blissful experience that you wished would never end. When he pulled away from you sadness ran through every fiber of your being, instantly missing the warmth of his soft lips.

You would never forget the way Jacob looked at you after the kiss. His eyes were soft, a gentle smile gracing his pretty face, every bit of him glowing with something other than the light from the moon. You would’ve done anything to see him like this for the rest of your life. To feel like he had just made you feel for eternity.

When the blissful haze cleared however, the longing vanished and panic quickly set in. What was he doing to you? This wasn’t right. You have a purpose and it is not to fall in love with a human. Get it together. Do your duty.

Every other thought bounced back and forth, your heart and brain fighting for dominance. Your heart told you to let him live, you didn’t need to kill him, but your brain knew better. You needed to do it or you would come back year after year just to see him. Risk the safety of you and the pod for a human you could never be with.

You had to kill him.

“Thank you for tonight Jacob.”

“The pleasure was all mine.”

He had insisted on walking you home to which you didn’t fight. If he walked you home you could lead him to a quiet place to take his life. Maybe even somewhere beautiful. Jacob deserved more than to just be drained and dumped in some filthy alley.

When he took you through the public garden you knew that was the place. So you led him down close to the pond underneath a willow tree, rays of light breaking through the wispy leaves that lay in drooping branches.

“Jacob?” You turned to him and gently grabbed both his hands.

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me again… Please?” There was the possibility that he would not come back like he had this time. A possibility that you would never feel his lips on yours again and you needed to experience it one last time.

“Okay.” It was soft and breathy, and had the night been any more lively you weren’t sure you would’ve heard it.

Jacob did as you asked, his lips pressed to yours like they had the first time. Tingles rolled through your body from head to toe crashing over you like waves. When you thought he would pull away and end the kiss he did something that surprised you. His tongue swept across your lower lip sending new vibrations along your spine, your body shivering slightly. Your own mouth acted without volition and opened against his lips.

The feeling of his tongue gliding along yours like velvet was euphoric. Noises bubbled from your throat in sighs of pleasure to be swallowed by Jacob. His hands gripped your waist, fingertips pressing into the meat with desperate longing. You liked the way his hands felt on you, almost as intoxicating as his mouth.

The kiss calmed and turned into short, slow kisses until your foreheads were resting against one another. You watched both of your chests rise and fall rapidly as you tried to regain your breath and slow your racing hearts. Neither of you said a word, just simply enjoying the moment.

Do it now. Get it over with, the longer you delay the worse it’ll be. Do it.

“May the flames of our souls dance together endlessly, Jacob.” You didn’t dare look at his face when you spoke your last words to him knowing you wouldn’t have it in you to do what needed to be done.

As your teeth sank into the delicate skin of his neck you prayed for it to be over quickly. Each desperate gasp of breath was a stab to your already fragile heart, and you were thankful you couldn’t see his face.

When he finally fell unconscious you filled the vile with his blood quickly before returning to finish what you started. Each pull of your mouth was a physical battle within yourself knowing that if you left now, before it was too late, he’d live. You could save him if you stopped. But that wasn’t an option anymore. You had to see it through.

You laid him down gently beneath the willow, teardrops dotting his skin, and cried harder at the sight of them. Had you been crying the whole time, you weren’t sure, but deep down you knew you had been. Brushing his hair from his face you looked at him one last time and pressed a shaky kiss to his forehead.

You had never run faster or sobbed harder in your life than you had that night.

“Something like that. I’m not one for this type of dancing or music if I’m honest.” You shrugged looking out at the people jumping and grinding to the music the DJ played.

“I’m not either, but my younger brothers wanted to check it out so I appeased them,” His eyes were trained on the crowd as he spoke, “I was starting to regret coming, and was just telling my brother I was going to leave.”

You peeled your eyes away from the people dancing on the floor and looked at Jake. He did the same, turning his focus back to you.

“Oh really? What made you change your mind?”

“Well I saw the most gorgeous woman looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here.” A cheeky smile formed on his lips. You’d forgotten how smooth he always was, your own lips breaking into a small smile.

“Would you wanna get out of here?”

“And go where?”

“I know a place.” Jake stood from his spot on the bench and set his drink on the table. When he turned to you he had his arm extended for you to take. His face gave a look of ‘what do you say?’

“Better be a good place.” You smiled and took his hand letting him lead you out of the noisy club. When the two of you stepped outside onto the street his hand dropped yours, the warmth he brought quickly dissipating. The action made you sad, wanting nothing more than to touch him again.

You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you trusted him and let him lead you down the wet streets. The two of you talked, and just as you had expected he was the same as each time before just with slight differences. He was a musician now, self made of course, and in a band with his brothers. It was almost relieving to hear that there was finally a version of him in which he played music. You knew he was destined for this profession, his love and devotion for the art always remaining throughout the decades.

Eventually you came to the entrance of a park shrouded with hundreds of trees and flowers. He continued to walk down the pathway, a destination clear in mind. You couldn’t help but look in awe at the breathtaking scenery around you, all the trees and flowers, the moonlight bouncing off the large pond that sat in the middle of the park. You wondered what it might look like in the daytime.

Since you had left the club there had not been a moment of silence. Comfortable, casual conversation flowed easily between you, talking about anything and everything you could think of. Jake was well read in human history and literature, things you knew much about having lived through most of them. While you only came upon the shore for one night each year you liked to keep tabs on what was happening with the humans as it usually impacted the lives of the nymphs greatly. Especially as technology advanced.

The two of you came to a bench surrounded by large drooping trees that overlooked the pond, and your chest tightened. The scene before you looked strikingly similar to the public garden in Boston where you had taken Jake’s life almost two hundred years ago. Images of his lifeless state came flooding back to you, tears pricking your eyes. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, willing the tears back down. When you opened your eyes again and looked at the trees more closely you breathed a small sigh of relief. They were not willows, but instead oak trees covered in spanish moss that were still living. And they were hauntingly beautiful.

“I like to come here at night when I’m stuck on a melody or riff I can’t quite work out. There’s something about this place that’s so peaceful and reminiscent. Which sounds ridiculous since I don't even know what I could possibly reminisce about in a place like this.” He sat on the bench and looked out over the water as he spoke, like he truly was thinking back to something. You tried to deny that maybe in some way he remembered that night in Boston as you sat beside him. It was easier to lie to yourself than accept that old pieces of his lives that involved you lingered.

The night had grown somewhat cold and a chill ran through your body as wind swept through the trees. Jake noticed the way your arms wrapped tightly around your body and wordlessly took off his light jacket, placing it around your shoulders.

“Thank you, but you didn’t-“

“I wanted to.”

The skin of your cheeks burned, heat creeping along your face and down your neck. You were thankful for the thickly coated trees overhead as they blocked out most of the moonlight and hid your growing blush. With the wind dying, you could smell his natural musk that wafted from the jacket, woodsy and clean like driftwood that sat on the beach. The smell flooded your senses, reminding you of the last time you had seen him.

September 1923

Charleston, South Carolina

Prohibition made hunting harder. Without the effect of alcohol humans tended not to hang around in large groups and were more difficult to subdue, but thankfully speakeasies existed. Sure finding a human who knew where one was could be a challenge, but once you did find one who could point you in the right direction they would do so of their own free will.

Bourbon and Branch was where you had found yourself this night for the hunt. The darkly lit underground club was congested with smoke from cigarettes and cigars, the sound of jazz filled the space. There couldn't have been a better place to prey on humans and you certainly took advantage of it, your body count for the evening rising higher and higher. Were you out of control? No, not yet, but hey it was the roaring twenties, everyone was on the verge of losing what little grip they had on self control. It didn’t help that you had been nursing your self loathing and pain since 1865.

Every waking moment that fateful night played on a loop in your mind. Over and over. You would do anything to get through the day without thinking about him, and human blood helped take your mind off of everything. The more you drank, the better you felt, the less you thought of him, but the more you drank, the more you pushed yourself further to the edge. You were quickly becoming a liability to the pod with each hunt that took place. It’s not that you didn’t care that you were endangering the pod, you just couldn’t see past your own misery to realize that what you were doing was dangerous.

You had lost track of just how many bodies you had left in the alley behind the speakeasy that night. It was nearing double digits, but you didn’t care and instead headed back inside the small club to find your next meal. When you slipped back inside though the image of the next human you had intended on targeting vanished instantly.

Sitting in a booth with a drink in hand looking at home was the man who haunted you. His eyes seemed to be scanning the room, like he was looking for something in particular when they landed on you. You didn’t dare take your eyes off of him, fearing that maybe the blood had gotten to your head. You watched as he said something to one of the men who sat by his side, identical to him in some ways, before sliding out of the booth and walking towards you. Not once did his eyes leave yours.

It felt like catching up with an old friend in some weird way. You know the person down to their core, but aspects of their life have changed, and small parts of them have too. Most of the night was spent in the Bourbon and Branch just talking with Jacob and getting to know what he was like in this life. There were plenty of smiles, laughs and flirting, and you were floating on air. And when he kissed you that night it was as if no time had passed, like you were back in 1865 sitting on his porch steps under the stars.

When the bar had finally closed for the night, neither of you could bring yourselves to say goodbye. Jacob invited you back to his house with his brothers and their partners as a proper way to wind down after a night out. More secret booze and music. The lot of you danced and drank for what seemed like hours before everyone either left or went to bed leaving you and Jacob out to enjoy the night alone. The two of you talked and talked until talking led to gentle touches, those touches turned to kissing, and the kissing led to something you had never done.

While painful at first, the feeling that came after was truly unlike anything you had ever experienced. Nothing would compare to the overwhelming euphoria you and Jacob had shared that night. Images of him above you, bare and glistening with sweat while his light brown eyes bore into your own were seared in your brain. The scent of driftwood and sea salt was all around you, enveloping you wholly. His whispers of praise, encouragement, and adoration echoed forever in your head. How beautiful you were and how good you felt. How utterly perfect you were. If you thought you liked the way his hands felt on you once long ago, you loved how they felt on you tonight. You loved the pleasure he could bring you with just a drag of his finger, and how gentle he was. So gentle like he was afraid he would break you. When you reached your peak you felt nothing but pure pleasure, every thought and memory erased from your mind that wasn’t him. He invaded every part of your being.

Afterwards the two of you laid in his bed, bare and pressed against one another. No words were spoken, but none needed to be. You were both content to exist in the moment listening to each breath the other took while his fingers traced mindless shapes and paths across your skin. The only noise that could be heard was Jacob humming softly, a tune that had no real body like it was something he made up as it came to him.

When he finally fell asleep you slipped out from underneath his arm carefully to not wake him and redressed. You had decided you would not repeat history this time. You wouldn’t be the cause of his death, you couldn’t do it again. You knew had you taken his life a third time you would come apart at the seams completely. While you were unsure if he would ever come back to you since you had let him live, it was a chance you were willing to take. For one last time you admired him in the faint glow of the candles by his bed, and this time as you looked upon him you didn’t have to tell yourself he was sleeping.

“May the flames of our souls dance together endlessly, my love.” Your hand caressed his cheek and you bent down to place a gentle kiss to his forehead before you made your exit. You had barely made it to the ocean when the sun rose that morning, your first true close call. To you though it was well worth it.

“So you’re in a band? Do you enjoy it?” You pulled his jacket tighter around your frame hoping to trap in more heat and cocoon yourself in his smell.

“I love it. It’s been my dream for so long to be a musician and I don’t think I would trade anything in the world for it.” When he spoke you could feel the excitement pour off of him. He truly loved what he was doing and that made you happy- knowing that he was happy.

“I’m sure it's not easy though being in a band with your brothers.”

“Everyone thinks that, but it’s not always difficult. Sure tempers fly, and things get smashed or broken, but nothing will ever come between us that we can’t overcome. We’re family, we’ll always have each other’s backs.”

You could understand where he was coming from. Your pod was your family, each member was a sister to you biological or not, and the hunt was your job. Things get dicey every now and then, but for the most part you just tried to do what was best for your family and looked out for one another.

Another hour had passed just sitting under the trees talking about everything and nothing at all. It had taken all the strength you had to not shiver uncontrollably from head to toe till now, Jake’s jacket not doing much anymore. You were positively freezing. The cold finally won, and violent shakes wracked your body.

“I have this beautiful hand-made dagger from the 1700s, absolutely exquis-“ His sentence stopped abruptly on the count of way your body jolted continuously and he began to rub his hands up and down the length of your biceps, “C’mon let’s get you somewhere warm, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

Jake stood from the bench, his hands falling away from your arms for a moment to help you stand. When the two of you began to walk he was next to you, his arm wrapped around the back of your body so both of his hands were back on your upper arms. The friction from his hands did heat your body slightly, but not enough to subdue the intense shivering.

“My place isn’t far from here, is that alright?” When you turned to answer him you came practically nose to nose with him. He was so close that the only thing you could see in front of you were his honey brown irises.

“Um, yeah that’s fine. How far away are we?”

“About seven minutes, think you’ll make it that far?” The smallest hint of a smile drew the corner of his mouth upwards, his top lip curling the tiniest bit.

While you didn’t spend most of your time around humans you knew when one was making a joke. Or in this case, poking fun at you. Instead of finding it offensive the jest was rather endearing. Nonetheless you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Yes I can make it that far.” You finally willed yourself to look away from his mesmerizing face and stare out ahead of you. A part of you feared that if you didn’t look away now, you never would.

Shortly after leaving the park you had stopped shivering and Jake’s hands stopped their vigorous movements on your arms to rest at his sides. It seemed silly, but you mourned his touch as soon as it left your body and you decided to ask him about the dagger from earlier to distract yourself.

“You were telling me earlier about a dagger that you have?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot I was nerding out a little.” A breathy laugh escaped from between his lips. It was more of a huff of air than an actual laugh. His focus was on his boots as he walked beside you on the concrete sidewalk.

“Tell me about it? I would love to know more.”

“Yeah, uh,” He looked up to you with an expression that looked something similar to disbelief mixed with excitement. “It’s a beautiful handcrafted dagger from the early 18th century I believe. It’s a family heirloom, been passed down to the Kiszka men when they turn twenty-five. That’s how old my ancestor was when he made it.”

His hands waved about and fidgeted as he spoke like it was something he did out of nervous habit, but you think he just liked to keep his hands busy. You knew exactly which blade he had been referring to, there was no doubt in your mind. The weapon had to be the same blade used to strike fear into the heart of Billy back in Dover, England. The same blade which you complimented later on in the night.

“This is me.” Jake stopped in front of a large house, very modern and elegant looking, but simple, and dug his keys out from the depths of his pockets. While he fidgeted with the keys you took the opportunity to slide the vial of blood you had collected from earlied out of your pocket and drop it gently in one of his bushes by door to grab in the morning.

He opened the door and walked inside, holding the door open for you to follow behind him. As soon as you stepped through the threshold of his home, warmth flooded over your entire body.

Jake’s home on the inside reflected the outside, modern and sleek, but it still had a cozy and comfortable element to it. In a way it somewhat reminded you of his home in the 1920’s.

You followed him deeper into the house through a hallway that led into a living room and kitchen. The areas were separated by a black granite bar top that had bar stools lined along the wall facing into the kitchen. Jake walked around the bar into the kitchen and you decided to stay on the other side, standing next to a stool. He looked at you from the other side, his hands on top of the black surface and his upper body leaning towards you.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water, tea, booze?”

“Hmm, tea sounds quite nice. Would you by any chance happen to have any peppermint tea?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He smiled at you fondly before turning around and walking to a cabinet on the wall behind him. He opened the cabinet and pulled two mugs off the shelf before closing it and opening another one to rummage through it. When he found the proper tea he filled the kettle up with water and set it on the stove to bring to a boil.

“You can sit, you know, make yourself comfortable.” He was facing you now, back pressed against the island in the center of the kitchen, his hands resting on the countertop behind him and his legs cross at the ankle. You knew with the tone of his voice and the soft smile on his face that he was just trying to make you feel more welcome.

“Thank you, although I’m content standing for now.” You smiled back at him gently with your upper body leaned into the cool black stone. Jake only offered an amused hum in response, continuing to stare at you with fond eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing… You’re just so beautiful,” His focus shifted to the ground and he shook his head, a giddy smile still splayed across his lips. “When I saw you at the club tonight I almost couldn’t muster up the courage to speak to you, and now you’re in my house and I’m making tea for you, and…” He looked up from the ground and met your eyes again. “You’re just so beautiful.”

You pushed off of the counter and made your way into the kitchen where he was standing. Neither of you looked away from the other the closer you got.

“I think,” You stopped in front of him and lightly draped your arms around his shoulders. His hands lifted from the countertop behind him and rested on your hips. “That you are quite beautiful.”

He was quiet for a moment, your compliment stunning him. He continued to stare at you in wonder and your eyes stayed locked on his.

“Me? Beautiful?”

“Breathtaking.”

His hand left your waist, his palm coming to rest on your jaw with his thumb splayed across your cheek, and his fingers laid against your neck just under your ear.

“C’mere.”

Jake pulled you closer to him, his fingers curling gently around the back of your neck, his lips pressing to yours. Just like each time before your skin felt tingly, spreading from your head all the way down your toes. You could feel his lips still curled upwards into the smile he was wearing as he kissed you. After a beat or two he pulled away from you.

The second his lips lifted from your own you felt the immediate longing of wanting to feel their warmth and softness again. It felt like sand slipping through your fingers.

However, his mouth was back on yours continuously pressing quick, tender kisses upon your lips over and over. With each time he pulled away, the amount of time between the kisses grew shorter like he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you entirely. Not only did they become shorter, but they quickly became more heated and needy. Jake’s tongue ran the length of your bottom lip and you welcomed it happily, parting your lips with a low hum. You didn’t fight him for dominance and instead let his tongue explore your mouth as he pleased. The tip of his tongue teased the roof of your mouth slowly from the back to the front before he met your lips again and his tongue brushed against your own.

He walked forward a few steps and used the hand placed on your hip to turn the two of you in an one-eighty, and then walked you backwards. Your back pressed into the edge of the island countertop, Jake’s chest and hips pressed flush against your own, his hand moving to tangle into the soft tresses of your hair. Everything he did was gentle, careful not to push too far. Even with his body pressed into yours there was no overwhelming force.

Your hands wound into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you and earning a groan from Jake in return. He grabbed both your hips in his hands and grinded his growing erection into your core. You couldn’t help the way your head lulled back, breaking the kiss. Taking advantage of your exposed neck, he trailed kisses down the column of the soft skin. His mouth worked slowly, dragging out each open mouthed, hot kiss with his tongue licking over the area before moving to place the next one.

“Jake.” His name rolled off your tongue in a whisper, broken and whiny. You hadn’t meant to say his name out loud, but the reaction you pulled from him was worth it. The tips of his fingers dug into your hips harder and vibrations rumbled from his mouth through your neck with the low moan he released.

“Sounds so pretty when you say it like that, darling.” His teeth scraped across your skin with the next kiss just barely applying any pressure.

“Fuck, Jake.”

His teeth grazed the delicate skin once again, adding in another roll of his hips into yours. He was much harder now and the friction he supplied was making your head dizzy. You wanted more of him, so much more of him. In the background you could hear the kettle whistle loudly on the stove signifying it was ready.

“Water’s ready for tea.” Jake’s voice was low and husky while still moving his mouth down your throat.

“Forget the tea. I need you, please.” Your hand traveled between your bodies to palm his clothed length. His lips finally ceased their assault, his forehead resting on your clavicle with a sharp breath pulled into his lungs.

“Oh darling,” He lifted his head from your chest to look into your eyes. There was a fire in his eyes this time that you had never seen before, dark and swirling beneath the surface. “Have me you shall.”

He stepped away from you and grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him. He walked over to the stove quickly turning off the burner and setting the kettle aside. Once the fire hazard was taken care of he pulled you into him again and reconnected your lips. You were walking backwards, unsure of where exactly he was directing the two of you, but you couldn’t care less. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt popping them open one by one. In return, Jake was working to unbutton your pants. When the last button was undone on his shirt you pushed the light material away from his shoulders and let your hands roam his warm skin. He was solid under your hands, yet still delicate. You loved the way his chest and stomach felt, obsessed with how sturdy and soft he was at the same time.

He moved on to your shirt once the button on your pants was undone and the zipper had been pulled down. You could feel the material slipping lower on your hips ever so slightly with each step you took. Jake pulled your shirt up over your head by the hem and dropped it to the floor, and you took one more step backwards before your back hit what you assumed was a door. His hand flew out and twisted the knob opening the door. He continued to walk you backwards into his room until the back of your knees came into contact with his bed.

You let out a shocked gasp, your knees buckling underneath you and falling rather ungracefully onto the bed while pulling Jake with you. He was able to stop himself from crushing you fully, his arms on either side of your head. When the initial surprise subsided the two of you broke into a fit of giggles unable to contain them.

“Sorry, I should’ve stopped.” He pushed himself up from the bed to stand still chuckling slightly.

“It’s okay.” One last giggle escaped from your lips as he made to stand. He was wedged between your legs while he looked down at you.

The look in his eyes from before had returned, quickly stirring the heat in your core again. While you were still wearing your bottoms, the top you had been wearing was long gone revealing your bare chest to him for the first time. He leaned forward and placed his hands on both sides of your hips. His fingers gripped the tops of the waistbands on your pants and underwear.

“Can I?” There was a gruff tone to his voice now when he spoke.

“Please.”

Jake didn’t waste anymore time and tugged the clothing from your body. There was no rush, taking his time undressing your lower half, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to have a better view of him. He dropped your bottoms to the ground and stood up straight to have a better view of your naked body.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more stunning.” His eyes trailed along your body, drinking in every inch. You sat up fully, your face level with his toned abdomen and your hands toying with the waistband of his trousers.

“I have.”

The sight of you below him made his dick twitch. You were looking up at him almost innocently with your hands and mouth mere inches away from his aching cock. The very thought of having your mouth so close to him made him almost cum right there.

You started to undo the button and fly on his pants while placing sweet kisses to his stomach just above his navel, never breaking eye contact. Once the button was taken care of and you moved onto the zipper you trailed the light kisses lower and lower until your bottom lip brushed the top of his underwear. You drew your lips from the heated skin of his torso and hooked your fingers into his pants like he had just done to you.

“May I?” You were still so close to him that your breath fanned over his skin and sent shivers through his body.

“Oh god, yes.” The words were filled with air and flew out in a hushed whisper.

You pulled the fabric down his legs taking the boxers down with his pants. His hardened length sprang free, the tip slapping his lower belly gently. You were mesmerized with how gorgeous every part of him was, and while it had been over a hundred years since you had seen him bare, he was the same as before. When you got the top of his pants past his sturdy thighs they dropped freely the rest of the way down his legs.

Jake stepped out of the trousers carefully before bending down to cup your cheek and bring his lips back to yours. He laid you back slowly as he kissed you, kneeling on the bed with one knee between your legs. His other hand rested on your hip and pressed into you guiding you to move further up the bed.

Satisfied with where you were, Jake laid into you more fully. His forearm was braced into the mattress next to your head, his chest brushing yours with each heaving breath, and his heavy cock nestled in the crevice where your thigh met your groin.

His fingers skirted from your hip down the outside of your thigh just barely touching the heated skin. With the same pressure his hand crossed over the top of your thigh and slowly inched its way up to your core. Every touch his fingers made on your skin left behind a trail of raised skin in their wake. A breathy moan was pulled from your lips as he ran his middle and index fingers up your slit slowly.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Jake groaned against your lips.

Your hips bucked into his hand involuntarily as his fingers swept over your clit for the first time. You writhed under his touch earning a smile from his lips that you could feel against your own before he began kissing his way down your neck towards your chest. Even as he moved down your body you could still feel the smile he wore. His fingers swirled your clit in tight, slow, figure eights while his tongue gave an experimental flick to your perked nipple. Your back arched from the bed, pushing your chest into him silently begging for more. He loved how responsive you were, and you could tell. Each time you reacted to his touches, you felt his hard length twitch and pulse against your hip.

His lips wrapped around your nipple fully, sucking and licking the bud, earning the sweetest sounds from your open mouth. Not once did his fingers stop moving against your clit and you were quickly being brought to the edge of ecstasy. He pulled his mouth from your breast with a soft pop and kissed lower down your belly. A soft giggle bubbled in your throat as his lips passed over a sensitive area of your stomach, his lips tickling you. He huffed a laugh at the way your muscles contracted and you squirmed under his touch only making the tickling sensation worse.

“Sorry.” He laughed with you, his eyes catching yours.

“S’okay.”

You reach a hand down into his hair encouraging him to continue where he left off. Jake did as you implied and kissed further down your abdomen to your core, looping his arms around your hips and thighs. He kept eye contact as he placed one last kiss to your center right on your clit. When his tongue licked a stripe through your folds his eyes fluttered shut. He hummed against your soaked heat, the vibrations flowing through your entire body. Your fingers wound tighter into his hair and your hips begged for him to be closer.

He slid his tongue back up your slit, collecting your arousal and wrapped his lips around your clit once at the top. He sucked the sensitive bundle into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it rapidly. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and your head was becoming more fuzzy with each roll of the wet, velvet muscle. Whines and moans of pleasure rolled out from your throat, his name mixed in along with them sweetly. Just when you were about to be sent over the edge you pulled his mouth from your core and back up to your own. His chest and torso were pressed to yours, now propped up on his knees between your spread legs.

You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. Sweet with a hint of saltiness. Like watermelon lightly sprinkled with salt on a summer’s day. You wanted more.

“Jake, please,” You whispered against his lips between feverish kisses trying desperately to get the words out. “I need you. I need all of you. Please, please.”

“Say it again.” His hand pressed down between your sticky bodies, gripping his length.

“I need all of you.”

“Say my name again.” He ran his swollen head through your wet lips, and coated himself in your slick.

“Please Jake.” He pressed into you slowly, the tip just inside as you spoke his name causing it to hitch in your throat. Your walls fluttered around him trying desperately to adjust to his size while he continued to push the rest of the way inside you. Your arms wrapped around the underside of his arms holding him close to you with your hands resting on the tops of his shoulders. The sound of his heavy breaths cascaded into your ear, his head dropped with his chin resting on your shoulder between your cheek and his hand.

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” He took a few ragged breaths. “Are you alright if I move?”

“Yeah, I-I’m okay.” Your voice cracked in a whisper already sounding fucked out.

Jake withdrew his hips from yours slowly, his thick length gliding out easily until just the tip of his head remained inside at your entrance. He pushed back in faster than before, but still at a steady pace. His other hand that was placed next to your head shifted so that he was cradling your head in his hand and gently pushing your opposite cheek into his.

With each push and pull of his hips to yours, both of your breathing became heavier, filled with moans and whispers of praise. He brushed your cervix upon every re-entry and grazed a spot that made your entire body explode in pleasure.

There was no doubt how good he was making you feel, and while you knew you were making him feel the same pleasures, you wanted to physically be responsible.

“Jake.” You tapped his shoulder lightly to get his attention. He quickly stopped all movement and lifted his face, looking at you with worry etched onto his features.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Your heart practically melted at his sincerity, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him. Worry changed to confusion at the sight of you smiling.

“Yes, I’m okay. I just, um,” You weren’t sure how to tell him exactly what you wanted. Mainly because you didn’t know what exactly it was that you wanted. “I want to… You’re just making me feel so good, and I… I want to make you feel good.”

“Baby,” A breathy chuckle left his lips, and his head fell, shaking lightly, “You’re already making me feel good. So unbelievably good.” He looked back up at you, the corner of his mouth pulled upwards showing off the smallest portion of his top teeth.

“I just want to… actively make you feel good.” You tried to reiterate to him what you meant.

“Are you trying to tell me that you want to be on top?”

You nodded your head slowly and watched the adoring smile on his face grow. Without much warning, his arm hooked around the back of your knee securing it closer to his body as he started to roll onto his back. He was seated fully inside you as he changed your positions, making you feel much more full once you were sat on him completely.

You wiggled your arms out from under his shoulders and sat up using his chest to stabilize yourself. He looked even more gorgeous below you than above with his skin shiny from sweat and his hair falling in waves around where his head rested. You stared at him for a moment longer taking in the way he looked and feeling how firm his chest and tummy felt.

You also weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, so you were sort of stalling.

“I, um, I’ve never really done this before…” Your gaze fell to watch your fingers dance along his tanned, smooth skin.

Jake didn’t respond. Instead his hands found your waist and gave you a reassuring squeeze making you look back to his face.

“I’ll show you.”

His hands lifted your hips ever so slightly before angling them forward gently. He continued to guide you upwards at this angle until you reached the end of his length. Just before he slipped out completely, you rolled your hips backwards again with the guidance of his hands and took him down to his base. He repeated the motion a few times to help you get a feel for it, each time speeding up just a little.

“If something feels good, follow it. Don’t think too much about what you want to do. Just let your body be the guide.” Not once did his hands stop guiding you while he spoke.

You started to take more control by lifting your hips on your own and changing the angle to take him down deeper. His hands stayed on your hips with his fingers extending to your ass. The more comfortable you got, the more you rolled your hips and sped up causing Jake’s fingertips to dig into the meat of your backside.

“That’s it. Doing so good.”

You did what he told you and just let your body do what it wanted to naturally. Carefully, you leaned back placing your hands on the outsides of his shins and kept moving your hips forward. With the new angle you could feel a searing hot tightness form in your lower belly with each thrust. You could see his cock, glistening in your juices, disappear in and out of you which only spurred you on more. You looked up to Jake to see him watching you slide along his length, his lips parted and his chest heaving. He caught your eyes and his hands traveled up your back.

“C’mere.”

He pulled you back to him, his lips crashing into yours and his hips bucking up into you. A loud moan ripped from your throat and was sent straight into his mouth. You could do nothing for a moment, but lay on top of him and let his hips do all the work, his thrusts disabling your mind and body. When you did finally push back onto him, his breath hitched before a deep groan tore from his chest and his hands gripped you harder. It took you a few tries to find the right rhythm, but after a few moments his hips were thrusting up to meet your own on their descent. Curses and praises tumbled freely from him, air filled and raspy. The movements were perfectly timed and you could feel yourself on the edge of the cliff once again. His kisses became sloppy, filled mostly with grunts and breathy moans against your lips.

“I’m close. A-are you, shit, are you almost there?” He sighed, his breath fanning over your face.

“Yeah, I’m- I’m about to- Oh fuck, Jake.” Your orgasm hit you before you could even finish your sentence. Intense pleasure ignited every inch of your body as your muscles contracted, squeezing his cock like a vice. His name slipped off your tongue over and over as he helped you ride out the high while chasing his own.

It was his name falling from your lips continuously like a mantra while you came that had him reaching his own climax. Soft whimpers, moans and gasps spilling from his lips and swirled around your head. He pulled you into his chest further, hugging you tight to his chest and kissed you harder until his hips slowed to a stop inside you.

Neither of you made to move for a few minutes, both of you entirely spent. Your entire body weight was being supported by him as you laid on top of his chest and stomach trying to come down. Jake was the first to move. He helped you up and gently guided you to lay on your back before making his way off the bed with a promise to return. When he came back he was holding a wet cloth and a glass of water. He cleaned your mixed release up from between your legs tenderly, and then disposed of the cloth in his dirty laundry basket. You gulped down the water while you waited for him to return again. A few moments later he came back and crawled back into his bed laying next to you. As soon as Jake laid down you started to get out of his bed to leave for the night needing to return back to the sea.

“Hey, you don’t have to go. You can stay- If you want to, I mean-” He fumbled over his words trying to get across what he wanted to say properly. You couldn’t get over how cute he looked, his cheeks getting pink from being flustered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I would like for you to stay.”

“I can stay for a little bit longer.”

You smiled at him softly and eased back into the bed beside him. He pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You rested your head on his chest, his skin warming your cheek, and laid your arm across his stomach. The two of you stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms until you drifted off to sleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest soothing you. Just before sleep took you under you heard him mutter something in his sleepy haze.

“I’ve waited for you.” You could barely register what he said, already half asleep and in a dreamy haze yourself.

A faint yellow glow woke you from your dreamless sleep. Sunlight beamed into your eyes when you finally got up the courage to pry them open, and your heart sank to your stomach. It was daytime and you hadn’t made it back to the ocean. You frantically threw the covers off of your still naked body, jolting Jake awake in the process. You began searching all around the room for your clothes having no luck in locating a single item of clothing. Jake’s hand around your wrist finally stopped you. You hadn’t realized that he had been talking to you the entire time.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His eyes searched your face, his soft voice trying to calm you down while his thumb rubbed circles on your wrist.

“I can’t find any of my clothes, and I have to leave. I can’t believe I missed sunrise, I-” You stopped talking immediately, the words dying in your throat. You had missed sunrise, by hours, and yet you were still alive. How the hell were you still alive?

You felt disoriented and nauseous, the edges of your vision blurring and your hearing starting to muffle. The pounding of your heartbeat thundered in your ears completely blocked out whatever Jake had said to you. Your mind raced trying to make sense of what was happening. There was only one possibility that could explain it.

“It was all a lie…” You muttered to yourself still in shock, forgetting that Jake was still there.

“What was a lie?”

“Um,” You shook your head, trying desperately to clear the fog from your mind. When you shifted your focus back onto his face, you instantly felt at ease. The nausea subsided, and your hearing came back in full. The black edges around your vision faded away allowing you to focus on his face, seeing clearly the lines of worry between his furrowed brows.

“Nothing. I- I think I was having a bad dream… I’m okay now.”

“Are you sure? You had me stressed out there for a second.” His thumb was still rubbing against your skin in soothing motions.

“Yeah, I’m good now.” You gave him a reassuring smile and tried your best to make him believe it.

It was the truth though. You felt better and it was because of him. With just a look of his face you knew this was your destiny all along. For centuries you pondered over why the universe had always brought him back to you, and now you knew. You were always meant to be with Jake.

“Okay, good… So you don’t have any plans for today?”

“No, I have nothing planned.” He smiled at you then, and you had never felt better in your entire life.

“Would you wanna grab some breakfast then? I’d like to spend more time with you.”

“I would absolutely love that.”

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Your bare feet sunk into the warm, white sand with each step you took along the beach. Carrying your shoes in one hand and the other intertwined with Jake’s you looked out to the open water of the sea. The sun was setting over the water creating beautiful orange glitters across the top of the small waves. While the blinding light burned your eyes you couldn’t turn away. Sunset was your favorite time of day and the scenic view of your old home had you somewhat reminiscent.

Roughly eight months had passed since the night of the hunt. In that time you’ve been adjusting to living life as a human which was quite different than living as a nymph. The biggest adjustment was probably the loss of your powers. Or getting a job, that was pretty difficult. Throughout the whole process Jake was there though. The two of you had started dating and eventually you had to come clean about your true nature, especially when you didn’t understand the simple things that came with human life. Cell phones, bills, cars, rent, social media. It was all very foreign to you and Jake never understood.

When you did finally tell him about being a nymph and coming from the sea he truly didn’t believe you. He thought you had made the whole thing up which you understood. After a while and some very confusing conversations about the aforementioned topics, he finally believed that you were not originally human. The most convincing aspect for him were your eyes. You were able to hide them for a few months before your powers faded completely, but when your abilities were gone he finally was able to see your glittery silver irises. Now though, your eyes too have since faded and changed color allowing you to look fully human.

He asked a lot of questions, all of which you welcomed and answered freely. You decided to omit the whole truth from him when it came to your previous meetings in his previous lives. How were you supposed to admit to the man you love that you had killed him not once, but twice centuries ago? He knew your paths had crossed before and in a few instances the two of you had become close in a sense, but you mostly told him how and where you met unless he asked for specific details. When he learned that the two of you had had sex before in the 1920s his only response was, ‘I was better this time.’ Mostly he would ask which version of him you liked better.

As you continued to look out at the sea you thought of Sarenya and your sisters. You wondered who would’ve taken your place as Nympha Legatus and where they would be this time around. Ciree would make a great siren leader if she could focus on-

“You’re doing it again.” Your thoughts faded away as Jake spoke beside you, squeezing your hand gently. Instantly you knew what he was referring to, you gazed down at your feet that we’re almost touching the water now. Every time the two of you walked along the beach you would absentmindedly walk towards the water until the salty liquid lapped at your toes or Jake made you aware. Usually he would say nothing and just watch in amusement while you led him closer.

“Sorry.” You laughed under your breath and turned to face him. He was smiling warmly at you, his honey brown eyes sparkling in the orange hue of the sun.

“Nothing to be sorry about…” You both started walking down the shore again still hand in hand letting comfortable silence take over. Your thoughts continued to wander, thinking about what life would be like for your pod now.

“Do you miss it? Your old life and your sisters?”

This was the first time he had asked you if you missed any part of what you used to be. You were sure he never asked because he didn’t want to make you upset. While it didn’t make you upset, you did think about it for a moment before responding.

“Sometimes... I miss Sarenya mostly. I mean she was my best friend and sister and she probably thinks I’m dead, so it makes me sad to think she’s grieving me and that I probably won’t see her again.” He nodded in response, showing that he could understand what you meant, your arms swaying between your bodies while you walked.

“But I’m happy here. I think this was always supposed to be my destiny… to be human and be with you. Live our lives with one another and grow old together. Even if I could go back somehow I wouldn’t because this feels right. This is right, and I don’t ever want to not be with you. I’d rather have this lifetime and the afterlife with you and remain human than have only fleeting moments together and be a nymph.”

He was beaming at you now with a smile that could only be described as soft, warm and giddy. The amount of love in his eyes as he looked at you was unmistakable and you were happily drowning in it, letting it lay like a heavy blanket over your entire body. Jake used the hold he had on your hand to swing you forward in front of him and maneuver your body to where he twirled you around a few times before bringing you into his chest tightly and pressed his lips to yours sweetly. He shifted his weight from foot to foot creating a small swaying motion as he held and kissed you.

“May the flames of our souls dance endlessly together, my love.” He repeated the phrase you had spoken to him years and years ago against your lips, smiling the whole way through it against your own smiling lips.

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