#Shadows 'Good. Now RISE ' line to Silver? i can hear it clear as day. makes my skin tingle. it was that powerful

[nighty-night-nh]

Well. My evening has gone in a descending order of bad.

My headphones stopped working. I lost the last drawing stylus I had. And now, my favorite sonic au that I've followed since i joined the fandom almost 9 years ago has come to a close to save it's creators mental health. I understand completely and wish them all the best in life, but I will miss the world they created. I will think of it fondly as a cornerstone of my childhood.

Tell content creators what their work means to you alright? You don't know when the last opportunity to tell them so will come.

[raggaraddy]

hello if you want you can ignore this of course but I was wondering what would vampire Hoseok do if he found out someone turned oc? Your fics are amazing by the way!

Bitten to death

A/N: Thank you for your request :) It was fun to write. However I took it less as a reaction, and more of a story prompt. So it's not exactly a conclusive answer to your question. I hope you still like it, though ^-^ 💜💜💜

Summary: You thought you knew everything about Vampires but when you wake up one you learn there are some important things you did not know. And it's only going to let worse once you learn why you were turned.

Trigger Warnings: Blood, death, maiming, choking, violence, mind control, abduction, yandere themes.

Vampire! Hoseok

It was like a horror story within your already horrific story. Some man you've never met before broke into Hoseok's house when only you were there. While you screamed and fought and instinctively called for Hoseok, he covered you in bites unlike any other you had felt before. Ones that made you suffer as if fire was coursing through your veins. You wish that you could say you were strong enough that your fight had some kind of impact. But in truth, it was over after only a few seconds. And it was in those few seconds that you felt your chest burning and your breath fill your lungs for the last time.

Waking you're met by the stranger hovering above you. Your head aching and your body throbbing in ways you had never experienced before. With a quick glance, you can see everything around you, and that does mean everything. Every single little detail. And the information is overwhelming.

Your mind feels as if it's breaking from everything you're taking in. For as far as you can see there are pallets and long isles of shelves lined up, the contents on every rack crystal clear. You can hear the sound of his shoes on the concrete and the dirt gritting underneath, and how each peak of sound travels and bounces off the farthest point in the warehouse. Even the smells, there are hundreds of them all hitting you at once. A few you know like the fragrance of the treated wood or the oils stain, but others you couldn't guess at. It's as if all of your senses are on high and you have no way to focus them.

Despite your panic, no matter how much you want to run, you can't. Laying on your back with your arms spread out to either side of you and your legs held together, you're being bound by the thinnest most delicate length of silver chain. Though, it's not tied. It's only draped over you, but still holding you as if it were stronger than any steel. Burning you as if it were touched by the sun.

You may have only seen a few newly made vampires before, but you have still been around them enough and know enough about their existence to recognize how and why your body feels wrong. And absurdly you can't help but feel betrayed. This was not supposed to happen to you. It was the only safety you got from belonging to someone who was called The Immortal King, and The Origin of Cruelty. No one was supposed to be foolish enough to steal from him, and most importantly, no one was supposed to be able to hurt you. But now because Hobi didn't keep you safe, he's now lost his blood supply and you've lost your humanity.

The stranger snaps his fingers, the sound bursting in your eardrums making you groan and wince as he repeats it. "Focus your attention on just this one sound. On just the sight of my hand. Feel the air around it." He coaxes you, snapping again. The noise echos dozens of times, ricocheting off every wall. The dull thud of his fingertips hitting his palm only sounding the once though.

Opening your eyes your concentration goes to the hand held above your face as he said, the space around it blurring. On the back of his pointer finger on an otherwise porcelain complexion, you notice a small patch of dry skin just below his knuckle. Clear blue-black defined veins wrapping the back of his palm. He clicks his fingers again and you catch the sound of friction from the way his finger rubs down his thumb, feeling the most minuscule shift in the air created by his motion.

The pinpointed attention helps for a moment, but then you shift your eyes to his face and the explosion of information overpowers you again. His hold comes around your neck keeping your head from turning. The tight pressure on your throat while stifling your movement, nearly makes you smile. There's no airflow to restrict. Your chest isn't heating, your body isn't convulsing trying to breathe. Even in this tense moment, you can't help but find it humorous, thinking how many times over the years had you wished for this exact thing when Hobi had squeezed the air from you.

"Watch my eyes," on his words your vision becomes immersed in them. They're piercing blue. Made up of streaks of white interlacing with a clear sapphire shade, like thousands of threads made out of the purest tropical ocean. A transparent irregular line encircling his pupil, and beyond that every distinct strand blurs together with the others until it reaches the shadowed grey edge that holds the circular shape. Slowly his jet black pupils dilate, stretching and filling his entire iris till every trace of colour is removed. As if transfixed, you're unable to close your own eyes, a flooding of bright light filling your field of view. The strength of it is so intense that the tendons in your sockets ache and your eyes begin to water. Tears rolling down the sides of your face, cresting in your ears.

"Apologies, you are only my second." He confuses you with a vague explanation you did not ask for. The black finally receding into its natural size. Your own eyes scrunching as you try to blink away the soreness. The bizarre occurrence leaving you feeling drained of strength, filling you with anxiety caused by the uncertainty, which is only worsened by the glimmer of triumph in his gaze.

Searching past him to the ceiling your brain is again processing the whole image instead of the sum of its parts. The strain in your head slowly fading, your tight held muscles releasing as everything begins to normalize. You don't know what he did, but it seemed to help.

He doesn't back away, continuing to invade your personal space. Although, the way his fingers are trailing along your skin while you're restrained on the floor is still not the worst thing he has done to you. Seeing as he killed you.

"I had almost given up hope that Jung Hoseok would love." His hand daintily caresses along your neck and up your jaw. Your eyes shutting as his fingertips run over your lips. "I began to fear it might not be something possible for him." He divulges, his touch still aimlessly wandering.

The way he speaks you can feel his vailed anger. Despite his soft words, this is not someone who cares about Hoseok's wellbeing, this is someone who hates him deeply.

"However, you restored my lost faith. And for that, I would like to thank you, Inamorata."

He thinks Hoseok loves you? Is he crazy?. He's possessive of you, that is all. Even in moments of deception or weakness when you had told him that you loved him, he's never said it back with any sincerity. And he has never said it of his own accord.

"Sir," your eyes reopen. "I think you've misunderstood. These," you weakly gesture to the silver, each slight movement searing the links deeper into your flesh. "aren't necessary. We are on the same side. I hate Hobi, more than anyone."

"Truly?" He asks tilting his head to the side. His white hair messily hanging across his forehead.

"Yes," you nod trying to insist your point. "He's kept me locked up for years." you chuckle dryly. Finding it nearly risible that all of this is because this man believes in a fantasy.

"Well then, you are free to rise," he nods resolutely. Plucking the chains out of your melted skin as you grit your teeth. The sound of the sizzle on his own skin baffling you as to how he can even lift them.

Sitting up you gently pull your limbs in, inspecting the blistered and bloody marks. The skin on your wrists already starting to intricately knit itself back together.

"Come here." The stranger calls from a rested place on one of the pallets to your right.

Standing, it is a bit hard to walk with your ankles still cut up but you make it to him decently. Looking around you, you can see the sun streaming in from the high windows that line the whole length of the warehouse. It's enough to light up the otherwise dark space, but with the sheer size of this place, the beams of sunlight do not get close to the two of you in the centre. Still in the middle of the day, it means Hobi can't get to you. Not easily at least. So you're on your own for now.

"Kneel." He instructs plainly. And you follow, lowering onto your knees in front of him. Your only thoughts are of escape. You may be in your first minutes as a vampire, but it should be simple to move quickly. It always seemed like something that came easily to them. "Inamorata, you will call me Master." he declares abruptly.

"Yes, Master." You smile confusedly. Inamorata? Why does he keep calling you that? You're unsure if it's a name or a title, but it's weirding you out.

Your face drops, your heart thumping, realizing what you said. The words you just spoke replaying in your head. You hadn't meant to say that.

Why did you say that?

In fact, why had you knelt? Why were you doing what he said at all?

With a gaped mouth you climb back to your feet. "Look, I think-um." You start not knowing what you want to say.

"Kneel." He orders again more forcefully yet with a knowing, jovial smirk. You shake your head hard, staying upright. You're not going to let him order you around. He has to be kidding.

Your brows furrow, your mouth drops open, and your forehead tightens as your knees bend against your wishes. You drop back into your knelt position. Grunting as your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into your legs, doing your best to resist without success.

Your eyes go wide in shock.

"Good. Now stay there," his voice makes your stomach drop. But your muscles relax, your shoulders dropping and your bottom lowering on your calves. Your body resting in this position.

This is nothing you have ever seen before. It's nothing that you knew was possible. It shouldn't be possible. On top of all the horrible advantages they already have, you're sure you would have known if mind control was one of them!

"How?" You gape, shaking your head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Why?" a smile fills his face, "What you have told me is far different than what I had heard." He stands and turns, tapping his foot against the top pallet sending it and its boxed contents flying. He grabs at the bottom slats of wood underneath and drags them closer to you with a horrid screeching on the concrete. Sitting back down he is now much lower and much nearer to you. So much so that his legs spread straight out on either side of you. "See, I had heard stories of the self-proclaimed King of Vampires, who had fallen in love with his human pet. That he kept her close, kept her safe, and drank from her exclusively."

"That's not love." you interrupt with a scoff, "That's imprisonment."

"Well, let us see what the truth is. Tell me honestly, Jung Hoseok's little Inamorata, do you love him?"

"Yes." You're mouth answers before your mind has time to think. "No!" you instantly correct.

The smile grows larger on his face "And what do you feel about him?"

"I'm scared of him. But I care for him." The words are pouring out of you uncontrollably, your face placifying as you speak. "and I miss him when he isn't home."

"And does he love you?"

"I think so, yes." You wish you could make yourself shut up! Your calm tone drops and you bite your jaw trying to take back your own body, growling as you do. "No! He doesn't." you snarl in a rapid shift.

"You think so? Then my last question; Do you want him to love you?" He asks satirically.

"Yes," The word slips out. Being accepted joyously from him. "You can't just make me say anything you want!" you shout. Your body is rigid and stiff as you think to stand with nothing happening.

"I did not," he chuckles, "I made you say what you believe is true."

"No, you didn't! Tha-" his finger raises to his lips shushing you, cutting you off like your voice had disappeared.

That is not how you feel! Hobi may have gotten better as time has gone on, but he is still cruel and malicious and heartless. The only thing this man is doing is speaking to your primal brain. The part of you that gave into its survival instinct and it's the part that you fight every day to repress so that you stay in control. You can't love him, it's not possible.

"Ha, you are far more amenable than my last. I can hardly feel any resistance." He mocks, tapping his temple. "And I recall Jung Hoseok trying to move heaven and earth to break free. Even Mansueto struggled to contain him. But you," he reaches down holding out his hand and you follow his gesture, your body moving independently to accept it. "You are a broken little thing."

You don't understand his ridicule. You're not moving consciously. Your own mind isn't connected to your actions. So you can't fathom how your body is even reacting, let alone how you should be able to fight it.

"Stop." You complain, your voice coming out with far less strength than you had intended. "Look, Hoseok doesn't have my blood anymore, okay. So just leave me out of whatever fucked up feud you have you have going with him."

"No, that is not enough." his tone becomes suddenly harsh. He lifts his hand and you stand as he raises it. "He stole someone precious to me and he must feel the same agony of loss."

"You're wrong." you swallow, working to overcome your nerves, "I'm sorry, but you just are. He doesn't love me. I'm not precious." You try to reason, seeing your pleas falling on an unreceptive man.

"We will see."

The sun has barely set before you hear commotion beyond the metal walls.

You had tried over and over to pry information from this man, to convince him to let you leave. But you were unable to gather so much as a name from him, and clearly, you failed to be let go. After a certain point of ignoring you, he stopped you from speaking altogether. Not allowing you to say a word until he permits it. More than that though, he filled your head with many instructions. Telling you how to behave in anticipation of Hoseok's arrival.

100 meters in front of you the locked doors are ripped off their hinges, a dozen men and women pouring into the warehouse with inhuman speed. But as if time slows down your eyes adjust and you can see them, see their movements with full clarity. Hoseok comes in last and straight down the middle into the open square that you all occupy. And you must admit, you are genuinely happy to see him. Now you just want him to hurry up and get you out of here.

The man steps forward to meet them while you are sat on the stack of pallets behind him. Your only instruction at this time is to sit quietly and wait for him to call you. Hating the feeling of being restrained by your own body.

Watching them all lineup versus a single man, you find it comical how outmatched he is.

Hobi always said that when he got tired of playing with your human body, he was going to turn you. And he was furious if anyone robbed him of even your smallest reactions, so clearly, he was going to be beyond pissed that someone sped up his plan, and took your death away from him.

"That's mine," Hoseok puffs up his chest, looking past the man's shoulder to you. 

The only thing that's confusing you, though, is if this man knows who The Vampire King is, why he didn't expect to be met with hell on earth, and why he didn't prepare better.

"Jung Hoseok, always so impolite. Do you not think you should greet an old friend after so many years?"

"We can talk all you like, Kol," Hoseok snarls, finally giving a name to your killer. "Once I get my property back."

"I think you'll find this is my belonging now." he chuckles in a brief pause. Hoseok's expression darkens, his eyes becoming murderous. The fury around him actually making you shiver. "Do you like the modifications I made? She is much more durable now."

Supposedly, Hobi's already noticed your change, because he doesn't look at you again. Instead, the two men have an intense staredown. All of the vampires on his side looking ready to kill on a word.

"And far more obedient. Come here," Kol calls you, holding his hand out at shoulder height for you to take. Moving automatically, you jump down from the stack of wooden pallets placing your fingers on his palm.

Unable to stand the rage on Hoseok's face you look down, just missing the exact moment he charges. But you see an instant later as he is thrown back like a paper doll into four stories of shelves, his weight bringing the metal, the shelves, and the products down on top of him as the whole structure collapses. His men looking as startled as you to see Hoseok so easily discarded.

Before the toppling construction settles, Kol breaks from your side and an incredible, horrible scene breaks out. His speed is something you can't follow, even now. You only see the trail of destruction when he stops. One after the other, he made his way through half of the vampires, ripping them apart. Literally tearing some in two halves. Decorating the square with blood and innards.

The others are as belated and overwhelmed as you, only just having the sense to react as his blurred image stops. When he advances again, this time he doesn't use his quickness for an advantage and simply ploughs through them. They attack all at once, and still as they grab and strike at him, their forces barely move him. And his response is terrifying.

You can only bear to watch the first one. Kol's fist driving through a woman's chest, the horrid cracking of her ribs as he tears it back out making you want to scream. But his orders have you completely silent. Instead, you close your eyes, sealing your hands over your ears. Trying to block out the violent sickening sounds of his destructive rampage.

There's a last thud before it falls quiet again. Your eyes springing open to see as horrific of a sight as you had imagined. He's dripping in blood. Drenched in it. And Hoseok's people are strewn in every which way. Not a single one having survived.

Sauntering through the sea of dead bodies, he makes his way to the side where Hoseok is unmoved, tossing away the beams and panels as if they were nothing. Grabbing him by the ankle, he drags him from the rubble into the clear space in front of you. The man you once thought of as the most powerful in existence, and his troupe of vampires, was completely demolished in mere seconds of work. And you can only watch on with your body shaking. Your hopes of rescue decimated. Your chest aching with worry, even for Hobi's sake.

"Now that it's a more intimate number of us, should we talk?" Kol releases him, brushing past you as he sits where you had before. His action triggering an instruction he provided earlier, forcing you to follow him and kneel at his feet.

Sitting up, Hoseok rubs the back of his hand against a large gash under his eye. The ferocity not having left his mannerisms. "You disappear for 90 years, and you show up to what, gimmie a blood bath." His laugh falls into a grimace as he stands himself back up.

"I was created in the 13th century and you brought infants to a fight with me. What did you think would happen?" Kol asks scornfully.

"I was hoping they would do a little better," He smirks, shrugging off their deaths. "Okay, that's my bad. But still, that doesn't tell me what you want. Or did you just want to remind me that you're still alive?" He taunts, his sardonic nature returning, "Remind me that you're still pissed and you can kick my ass. Good job. You put on quite a show." he smiles, his tongue running over his fangs as he gestures around at the gruesome display. "But she," he points to you with two fingers, bitterness lacing his next words, "is worth nothing to you."

"Oh, she is worth everything to me," Kol slides forward, his hand brushing down the back of your neck, "because she is worth everything to you."

On those words, you get the most heart-wrenching sight. A pang of insecurity shows up in Hoseok's eyes. Uncertainty and something so close to fear. The smile fading as he looks him up and down.

"I am curious, though, Vampire King, do you think she will detest the Sire bond as greatly as you did?" he punctuates the question, tugging your head back by your hair. "If I treat her as Mansueto treated you, how long do think until she breaks?"

With immense speed, Hoseok splinters one of the wooden crates near him, lunging at Kol, aiming to drive the shard into his heart with a roar. But he's caught before his hand ever plunges forward. Instead, Kol takes the sharp wood and spikes it into Hoseok's stomach. Continuing to dominate him with a solid blow, knocking him off his feet, smacking him into the concrete in front of you. Stepping down, he swings his foot punting Hoseok in the chest hurling him back among the remains of his fallen creations.

You had thought if you ever saw Hobi being handled as roughly as he treated you, that you would enjoy the Karma of it. But seeing him so easily immobilized is making you sick with fear and mostly sadness.

With Kol having stood, you're no longer bound on your knees and you scramble to your feet. You want to run to Hoseok's side but before you have the chance Kol drags you into him, his hand wrapped around your waist, his other crudely brushing the hair from off the side of your face.

"Call out to him. Tell him your every feeling." He hushes the order in your ear.

"Hobi!" you yell, not sure you would have even needed to be compelled to want to shout for him. "Get up, please. I'm scared. I wanna go home!"

"Go to him," Kol releases you and you sprint to his side, hardly able to slow your sudden frantic speed.

Doubled over Hoseok is bleeding profusely. He needs your blood- but you can't do that anymore. And you have no idea what to do. You don't know how to help him or how to get out of here. He's the one that is supposed to keep you safe.

Coming from behind you, Kol bends down shoving you out of the way to lift Hoseok by the throat. "Stop!" you follow their movement, hanging on Kol's arm. "Stop! Please." But you have no effect. Instead, he jerks the wood dagger out making Hobi yell in pain.

"Do you recall what you said as you killed our Sire?" Kol whispers maliciously. "You told me that 'I will get over it'." Releasing him, he lets Hoseok plummet to the floor and you drop with him trying to catch his weight. "In 100 years from now, I'll let you see her again and you can tell me if you were able to take your own advice." he smiles spitefully.

"Hobi," you whine lowly. Brushing his hair from his sweat and blood wet forehead. "I don't want to go with him. Rather the devil you know, right," you softly chuckle, trying to pull his energy back.

Even though you know the both of you have no chance at the moment, you guess you're just looking for an affirmation that he isn't going to let you go and let this other man keep you for the next century.

"Please," you whisper, your waterline filling with tears.

Reaching towards you, Hoseok's hand constricts around your throat, pulling you into him like he has countless times before.

"You're mine," he growls through pained grunts. His anger lessened, distress replacing it. But he gives you the answer he could see you searching for.

"Yes," you nod subtly. Closing your eyes as you lean further into his hold.

"Get up," Kol orders, interrupting you.

Despite his tightening grip, you pull away from Hobi, standing as you were told. The elder vampire taking your arm leads you away through the bodies to the open doorway.

"Say goodbye Jung Hoseok," Kol calls back, leaving him injured and alone, making you wish more than ever that you could pull back. "And do not worry, I'll take very good care of her for you."

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #17: make it hurt: Hawks

In which Hawks pays you a late visit. 

Characters: Takami Keigo (Hawks) / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), begging, needy sub!hawks, soft dom!reader, bondage, edging, teasing, vaginal sex, angst, a little bit of aftercare. 

Notes: Today’s prompt was ‘Begging.’ It got feelsy. I’m not even a little bit sorry. Not even a tiny bit. 

Kinktober Masterlist

There’s something different about him when he comes to you tonight.

The gentle sweep of his feathers against your bedroom window stirs you from sleep. At first, you don’t realize the culprit, and you turn blindly onto your side, searching for the soft orange display of the digital clock on your bedside.

There’s a shadow looming beyond it, though. Initially your body seizes, electric fear sparking every muscle. But the silhouette is unmistakeable, and as he moves into the light cast over your balcony, you take a deep breath and scrape a palm across your chest to cool your stalled heart.

“Kei,” you gasp, slipping out of bed. The sliding glass door that opens up to your balcony takes all your strength to open, and as you do, he practically falls into your arms.

He’s still wearing his hero clothes-dirty and damp. All of him is damp, you realize as you wrap your arms around him. You take one palm to the back of his neck- his hair’s wetted down with sweat, and he holds you, just a little too tightly.

“Kei,” you whisper one more time. “Baby, what happened?”

You realize, as your body settles into his, that he’s trembling. He doesn’t say anything to you. Instead, he grabs your chin and crushes your mouth to his. He snags you by the upper arms, shoving you hard against your closet door.

“Keigo,” you plead quietly. You brace your hands against his chest- barely awake and wholly unprepared for such an onslaught. He’s come to you in the middle of the night before, but never this desperately.

Finally, you snap.

“Keigo, stop,” you growl. You shove him hard, and he stumbles back a couple of steps. But he shakes it off like a bad punch and starts forward again.

“No.” You bark at him this time, planting your hands on his shoulders and keeping him firmly at arm’s length. He snarls at you. His eyes flash. But his cheeks are flushed, and the way his wings open up behind him suggest satisfaction- not predation.

You understand immediately.

“Back off.” Your voice stays crisp and double-edged, and this time, he listens. Though his body is pulled tight like a drawn bow, he takes a few tentative steps backward.

“On your knees for me, baby.”

Your gaze softens as he slowly listens, lowering himself to the rug at the foot of your bed. In the quiet, you can hear his breathing- laboured, shallow, uneven- so you close the distance and cup his cheek, tilting his chin to pull his gaze to yours.

His tawny eyes are fathomless. His jaw is tight. As he looks up at you, his trembling feathers droop. Something’s happened. Something big.

“Breathe with me,” you croon. Slowly but surely, he matches his breathing to yours. You breathe deep and intentional, in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four. Five, six, seven, eight. His wings rise and fall with his slowing breaths.

“Better,” you praise. His eyes are shut by now. In the dim, silvery light of your bedroom, even all caught up in his own fear, he’s beautiful.

“You ready to tell me what happened?”

It’s like you touched him with a live wire. His nerves sing to life all over again- so hard you can see it happen- and his gaze snaps open.

“It’s… I… I c-c…I can’t-“ It’s the first time he’s tried to use his voice, and it comes out broken and shallow. Your heart begins to race. He’s scaring you.

“Alright.” You smooth your hand over his flaxen hair. “You with me, Kei?”

He nods. Your boundaries are always clear, and you have a complex set of symbols to help enforce them. But sometimes you can’t help checking in anyway.

“C’mere.”

You ease him over to the bed, helping him out of his clothes piece by piece. Once you’ve got him stripped down to just his trousers, you let him sit carefully on the edge of the bed. You straddle his lap, and his hands twitch by his sides, but they don’t move.

He knows the rules.

“Go ahead,” you whisper. “You can touch.”

Instantly, he slides his palms up the sides of your thighs. His fingertips toy with the hem of your t-shirt- his t-shirt- that you were sleeping in.

“Tell me what you need from me,” you murmur. He answers, but he’s mumbling, and you don’t catch it.

“Speak up, honey.”

“Make it hurt,” he whimpers. He clutches tightly at your hips and buries his face into the crook of your shoulder. You slide your hand to the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his mussed hair once more. His bare skin is sticky and ripe with the scent of clean sweat, but he knows what he needs.

And he knows that you’ll give it to him.

“Okay,” you soothe, turning your head and pushing your lips against his temple. “Okay.”

You hold him there for another few moments, but you’ve got your orders. You take a deep breath and climb off the bed, settling your hands on your hips.

“Take off your pants,” you begin. “Then, lie down on your back.”

He gets right to work, scrambling to his feet and fumbling to get his work pants undone. When he does, he shucks them right to his ankles. You can see the excitement building in his body already, his cock beginning to swell in the tight confines of his black undershorts.

You resist the urge to lick your lips. He’s delectable like this.

Keigo gets flat on his back, and you get to watch the way his throat bobs as you circle the bed. You tug the top drawer of your nightstand free and fish out a pair of leather cuffs, lined in soft satin.

He swallows harder.

“You want these?” You whisper, holding them between your pointer fingers and stretching the silver chain taut.

He lets a strangled whine from his throat, nodding eagerly. He holds his hands out to you, palms facing upward. Your smile grows. You smooth a hand up the center of his chest and bend between his outstretched hands to lay a tender kiss on his forehead.

“Uh-uh,” you chide, shaking your head. “Not that way. You know better.”

You take one of his hands- his elbow bends pliantly against your hold- and kiss his palm. Then you buckle him lovingly into one side of the cuffs, running a finger under its edge to make sure it’s not too tight.

You loop the chain through the rungs of your headboard and buckle him into the other cuff.

“Comfy?” You murmur against his cheek.

“Yeah,” he croaks, and when you pull back, his gaze follows you like watched prey. He doesn’t know exactly what you’ve got planned- you’re not sure, either- but he knows it’s going to be good.

You push a knee into the mattress and swing the other over his hips. As your weight settles over his, he gives a soft little grunt, but his eyes rove over your form. You let him look, watching him watch you. Carefully, you dance your fingers across the hem of your t-shirt and lick your lips.

“You wanna touch me, don’t you? Just like this.”

You slide your hands underneath the shirt, pushing it higher as you glide them up your ribcage. He likes touching you beneath your clothes almost more than he likes taking them off of you, and his hips twitch beneath yours as he’s forced to watch you do it instead.

He’s getting harder now- you can feel the firm press of it beneath one thigh- and you give your hips a tiny rock as you pull your hands out from under your shirt and the material falls back down around your body.

“Baby,” he croons, and you give your hips a sharper jerk that makes him yelp.

“Try again.”

His lips purse together- he knows what he’s supposed to call you, but he stumbles over the word.

“M…my lady,” he gasps. Your heart swells.

You love to watch Hawks parade around the city all day long, feathers puffed, head held high. You love the confident air he oozes in interviews and PR campaigns. You adored the cocky speech he gave at the last hero ranking ceremony.

But what you love even more is that he comes home to you, gets down on his knees and calls you his lady.

There’s no other person in the world who gets to see him like this. Even you had to break him down- unpick every stitch, until he tore apart at the seams and showed you his barest, most vulnerable self.

That was when you truly fell in love with him.

Now, you’re in far deeper than you’ll ever know.

“Better,” you purr.

You climb off his lap, crawling down between his legs. He fusses and strains against the cuffs, trying to get a better look at you. His wings are spread neatly behind him, but you can feel the way they twitch and sweep across the mattress in indignation.

He’s getting impatient.

You curl your fingers in the elastic waistband of his undershorts and tug them down to his knees, loving the way he gasps and shudders, lifting his hips as you scrape the fabric out from underneath him.

He’s strong but slender, fine-boned like a raptor. His bronzed skin is dusted all over with golden hair- a dense trail of it leading you to the groomed patch above his flushed and ready cock.

“My perfect man,” you croon, tracing your lips along one thigh. “So pretty. So good for me.”

His eyes fall shut again. You watch his teeth sink into his lower lip. You give the tip of his cock a bare little lick, and he gives you a responsive huff of pleasure.

After that, you don’t waste any time.

You dive in, swallowing his shaft down eagerly. You suck and lick and bob your way along the entire length of him, wrapping a hand around his base and loving the way he keens and moans for you. All the while he calls you as he should, milady falling deftly from his lips between gasps of sensation.

You can read his body like a novel, and when his thighs start to tense and his voice pulls up into his throat, you know he’s getting ready to cum.

You give him three more good sucks. Then you stop. He’s expecting it, but that doesn’t make him ready for it, and his hips buck desperately up as he whines in indignation. His shoulders are taut and grooved as he strains against the cuffs, aching to touch you, finish himself off, anything but this torment he subjected himself to.

But this is why he comes to you.

You’re the only one who can take him to pieces like this.

You lead him to the brink twice more, sucking and licking and stroking selfishly at him, and pulling away at the last available second. It’s the third time you leave him keening and gasping for more that he lets out a little sob, and one word you’ve been waiting all night to hear.

“Please,” he whimpers, and you press your lips to the hollow of his groin. He’s so sensitive now, all drawn up for you with tears streaming down his face. But he’s far too caught up in his desire to be concerned with the things that brought him here to you.

“What was that?” You whisper, tracing your finger along the tip of his flushed cock. It’s scarlet and weeping against his belly now, the skin of his shaft still slick and shiny from your ministrations. His cock bobs with his near-constant squirming, and his shoulders tremble against the pillows as he settles himself and tries again.

“My lady,” he pleads. “Please let me cum. Please, I need it so bad. It hurts, milady, please.”

This is what you’ve both been waiting for. You sit back on your heels, but he’s still trembling and squirming, fussing fitfully with his restraints.

“P-lease,” he persists, his voice breaking in the middle. With a wave of sympathy, you slip out of your t-shirt and lay your bare skin along his, wrapping your arms around his torso. His wing curves instinctively around your body, and he tries to twist his hips to press his cock against you- any form of friction will do.

“Okay,” you whisper, pushing your lips against his jaw. “Don’t worry, baby, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you. You with me, Kei?”

You stroke his scruffy chin and his eyes flicker open. They’re still filled to the brim with golden desire, but he focuses on you and gives a taut little nod.

“Good.”

With another kiss to his forehead, you straddle him again. This time, it’s with purpose, and you part your slick folds with one hand while bringing the tip of his cock to your entrance with the other. Keigo gasps and tries to thrust into you, but you back off with a stern look.

“Patient.”

He settles.

You try again, easing yourself slowly onto the length of him. He’s been through hell tonight, and he deserves this pleasure. If you had any idea why he needed it like this, you might have been better prepared.

But the blissed-out expression he wears as you bottom out proves that you’re prepared enough.

“Move with me, honey,” you breeze. You ride him slowly, letting his cock pump steadily in and out of you, and he matches your rhythm diligently. Despite the flush that’s crawled all the way down to his chest, and the tension that you can still see pulled tightly across his shoulders, he waits.

You reward him soundly.

All at once you shift your rhythm, pounding yourself up and down with the resounding slap slap slap of your thighs against his. He can’t hold it in any longer and groans, deep and long in his chest, forcing his hips up as yours push down to double the intensity of your undulating bodies.

“Milady,” he pants, and his thighs are starting to tense again.

“Don’t worry, honey,” you promise. “I’m not going to stop this time.”

You reach between your legs to find the swollen nub of your tender clit, rubbing tight circles in time with your thrusts. You’re determined to reach your peak soon after he does, if you can’t get there with him.

When he finally reaches the breaking point, you can see the worry building in his body. After a few rounds of edging he’s nervous, not trusting the sensation of his impending orgasm. But you make good on your promise, forcing him over the edge.

When he finishes, he howls. He throws his head back against the pillows, crying out and pumping his hips wildly up into you. His thrusts are spurred on by the cum that he pumps into your body, and it’s not long before you reach your own tight peak and collapse on top of him, spent.

When your senses return, you unbuckle his hands from each cuff, rubbing his wrists to soothe the memory of restraint. You curl up behind him and wrap your arms and legs around his body. His wing drapes over your shoulder, a quiet act of devotion from your healing lover.

You rub his chest and kiss his shoulder, holding him until his breathing slows and his pulse evens. He falls asleep in your arms without another word.

In the morning, you’ll get the whole story from him. Tonight, you’re just glad to see him resting.

Tonight, you’re just glad that he’s found you.

[lazarettta]

Misthios IV

Characters (Spartan!Reader x Mother Miranda)

Rating (T)

Word Count (3.4k)

Warnings (none I don't think)

You're up roaming around the castle and run into Miranda and Alcina.

It's been an exhausting but thrilling six months since you've gained the eye of this region's reigning ruler. Their Queen was ruthless as she was beautiful and you were quickly learning that she had a particular taste for blood that you haven't seen since your days in Sparta. Creative and cunning as she was, especially when it came to acts of revenge, but she took care of her kingdom and her people so long as they were loyal to her and her alone.

It was that last rule that forced you to discover just how cruel and destructive the mountains of Norway could be because you were tasked with chasing down a group of runaway slaves—as a punishment. This was different from your 'normal' punishments.

There was nothing special about these fucking slaves, they were just stupid enough to think it wise to steal from their Queen and then dare escape. It angered you so much that she'd send you on this quest when a small squadron of low ranked knights would've done fine.

It had taken you a week and two villages to finally catch up with them into the mountains. The conditions were harsher than what you were prepared for and you had to abandon half your gear and continue on foot. The cold was too much for your horse to handle, but he was old and you were sure to put him out of his misery before continuing on your hunt.

You'd caught them asleep in a cave a few miles away from a village that was tucked away into the mountain side. You purchased food and another horse, costing you all the silver you carried but it made your hunt easier and quicker. You hadn't been looking for the cave but a small fire through the thick of the trees caught your attention. Tying your new mare a distance away, you crept towards them, sticking to the tall grass and the shadows.

They'd all been sleeping so peacefully, even their so-called 'watcher'. It was almost too easy to just go and kill them quietly one by one...but Miranda had specific instructions for you to follow if you wanted her forgiveness. She wanted to hear them scream while she slept and that was exactly what you intended to deliver. You unsheathed one of your twin blades and with practiced ease, you swung right as the watcher’s eyes snapped open.

You were startled awake by a scream that you weren't sure if it was from your dream or if it was a real one. You sat up half way in the bed of the guest room you were put up in, leaning on your elbow ready to spring from beneath the sheets but nothing ever came. After another full five minutes of sitting and waiting with no result, you let yourself fall back onto the soft pillows and threw an arm over your eyes as they began to leak tears.

Nothing of sadness or the sort, you were simply exhausted—you were still in your clothing with your parka not too far away just in case you had to use the window for a quick escape. You even kept your boots on, even though it was too warm for you but you'd deal with it as you've been through more uncomfortable situations that couldn't even compare to simply being hot. Of course if you take off a few layers you'd be fine, but paranoia hasn't exactly been very kind to you in the past years...with good reason too. You hadn't died in over ten years and you planned to keep that streak going.

But even as those thoughts comforted you a bit, sleep evaded you—no longer finding you worthy of its pleasures and you just laid there sprawled out and tangled within the soft white linen sheets that were probably now dirty thanks to you. You didn't care. They probably had more somewhere.

Resigned to the fact that you'd probably never be able to go back to sleep, at least not any time soon, so pushed aside the heavy duvet and slipped out of the bed quietly. You moved towards the window but the only thing you could see was the few trees below and a land covered in blankets of undisturbed snow. A little further beyond the tree line, you saw smoke coming from the chimneys of the factory before you turned away from the view and left your room. You looked left and right of the hallway but there wasn't a sign of life to be found, not even that little maiden Alcina practically made your shadow. It was probably later than it actually felt and she was probably asleep...everyone probably was.

Checking your watch— ah, right. Miranda even took that. She took everything you could use as a weapon and it tickled you more than it annoyed you. Unsupervised, you can now take your time to feel your way around. You didn't get a chance to get a good look at everything before but now you did, and it was an opportunity to get to know the Lady of the castle. You'd long dismissed the thought that anything in this village was normal, it had more secrets and shadows than a horror book you guessed.

Walking through the halls of the second floor felt like a trip down memory lane—no particular region as most all castles were the same. Large and filled with fancy portraits and trinkets that could house and feed five families at a time. Carpet so plush and soft that you could feel it through your boots with each step. It absorbed your weight like a welcome home hug. Clearly Lady Alcina was a woman of finer things in life and that extended far outside of her wardrobe and preferred wines.

It just unnerved you how quiet everything was, a castle thing large and prosperous had to have staff minding it twenty four seven. Nonetheless, you finally came to the door that you recognized during your brief tour as the 'wine room'. Like everything else you'd come across, the door was finely made from dark red oak with gold trimmings—just like Alcina's stagecoach.

Without a second thought about it, you opened the door—simply with the intent of getting a better look at the wine collection the maiden mentioned during your tour. But that thought was cut short because the room wasn't as empty as the silence in the hallway led you to believe as you'd walked into a full conversation by two people; one you were hoping to avoid for a few days and the other you thought was asleep...or well away from your location. You were wrong on both accounts.

“Heisenberg is a blundering fool leading a pack of fleabags, Miranda. He is going to fail again!”

“And we don't have time to stress other options, especially that one! We're out of time already and—”

“Exactly we're out of time so just ask her—” you pushed the door open a little more and it creaked quietly.

They both turned to you and you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to make of the scene in front of you or what you just overheard. Miranda and Alcina were sitting at the small table, well Miranda was, Alcina was sitting in one of her custom chairs a little further away and both women had two glasses filled with dark red wine. Alcina wasn't in her white dress anymore, instead she'd changed into a pair of dark slacks and deep red turtle neck and she was barefoot. A far cry from the regal dress she wore earlier but she still carried herself in the same manner.

You did your best not to think about how good Miranda looked without that damn mask on her face...even in those robes she still wore, Miranda was beautiful. Beautiful as the day you first met. You forced yourself to keep your attention on Alcina and not Miranda, who was now staring a hole into the side of your face like she was trying to will you into looking at her.

“Oh. Shit, I didn't know this room was occupied.”

Alcina glanced at Miranda briefly from behind her wine glass, her expression unreadable when she settled her eyes on you again, “Of course not, dear. Is everything alright?”

You cleared your throat, fighting the urge to look at Miranda because you could feel her trying to will your eyes in her direction, “No, actually I—”

You were interrupted by an ear piercing scream and high pitched laughter right behind her, on the verge of being hysterical. Lady Dimitrescu sighed heavily behind you and finished her wine before setting her glass down and rising to her full height.

“Please excuse me, it seems that my daughters are teasing the poor maids again.”

You started to comment that it didn't sound like it was teasing but you kept your mouth shut, knowing better than to stick your nose in the wrong place too soon—it never really turned out very well for you the first time. It would never cease to amaze you how fast and quiet Alcina moved despite her size, but it still baffled you that she hasn't ever gotten the doors to her own castle fixed to fit for her . But those thoughts were pushed to the far corners of your mind when the door clicked shut—leaving you alone in the room with Miranda, forcing you to acknowledge her now. You shoved your hands in your pockets and sighed, you weren't expecting to see her again so soon.

You still hadn't had time to get your shit together after the last time you two spoke, or more like argued back and forth. Easily falling into a pattern as if you hadn't been centuries apart. You still weren't sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

“Take a seat, (Y/n). Would you like a glass of wine?” Miranda broke the silence but she didn't break eye contact with you once she caught you eye, holding you as if she physically had her hands on your face. “We don't have to talk if you don't want to, (Y/n).”

“Oh, so now we're suddenly interested in what I want to do?”

“Yes, of course. Wine?”

You scoffed, rolling her eyes at her typical answer and you wanted to say no, you opened your mouth to do so but instead you were getting closer to the table she was sitting at. She poured you a glass of wine, and handed it to you. You raised an eyebrow, she couldn't have set it down for you? She insisted on handing it to you and the way Miranda was holding the glass left you no choice to place your hands over hers to take it from her. Those gold claw rings were ice cold against your skin and the edge of one nicked your skin but not deep enough to draw blood.

You had no idea what you wanted to say to Miranda, you weren't ready to talk about what you two needed to talk about but you weren't sure if you could sit here and do small talk with her over wine. It was so easy for you to get up and leave, maybe go back to your guest room and lock the door. So what was stopping you? Why was it difficult?

Miranda, who had been watching you intently, interrupted your rapid thoughts, “You always were a loud thinker, (Y/n).”

“Nothing interesting, trust me.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Miranda chuckled, shifting in her chair slightly to angle herself towards you a little more. You sort of hated yourself for thinking how well she was pulling off the priestess look, “I could always tell what you were thinking even from a mile away. You were always quite the unique distraction.”

“You never complained before.”

“No,” she agreed, her voice dropping an octave or two lower, “though I doubt I ever will.”

You looked up, she didn't look away and you didn't know what to think. And for once, even if it was just for a moment, you saw a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Miranda, what do you want? Why are you keeping me here?”

“Because we need to talk, (Y/n), to...clear the air as they say, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay, I got that part earlier,” you licked your suddenly dry lips, your nerves starting to buzz a little, “But that's not a good enough reason anymore.”

Miranda scoffed, actually rolling her eyes at you, “Why not? Closure heals the past. Doesn't it?”

“But what do you expect after that?”

“What do you?” she threw the ball back in your court as she refilled her own wine glass from a different bottle than what she used for your own, the wine she was using was a little darker and thicker. It didn't surprise you that the question was thrown back at you, she always did that when she was trying to keep the upper hand or get it.

But it didn't mean that the question wasn't a good one because what did you want after this? Would it even matter after all of this time? Have you ever forgiven her, really and truly moved on? Did she even care back then, did she care for you...or what you could do for her?

Miranda was watching you the entire time become lost in your thoughts, a trait you still carried with you. She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, her clear eyes taking you in while you were distracted enough to not notice her doing it so blatantly. You still looked the same as the last time she saw you, minus the murderous rage that had twisted your beautiful features that evening.

The modern world has touched many parts of you but your eyes still hold so much more than they did centuries ago. Being a warrior was now outdated and something of an historical myth but you still carried yourself as one, and Miranda could see new scars on your brown skin on the exposed skin she saw earlier on your neck and arms.

She'd been watching you for days before finally making herself known to you after going back and forth with herself during those agonizing days. Being far more irritable than she normally was and Miranda was positive that Lords Heisenberg and Moreau were quite sore with her at the moment. Well, Karl certainly would be. Seeing you made her angry...at first. Angry for the grief you left her with, the shatters you left her to pick up on her own.

Years of pent up thoughts and plans of revenge she'd enact when she got her hands on you came down to a single moment when she finally did get her hands on you and she couldn't do it. Miranda eyed your neck, where you should've still been bruised. She had you right where she needed you with one hand wrapped around your neck because you were so unsuspecting. It would've been so easy but she couldn't...so she knocked you out and threw you in a cell where she could keep a better eye on you. And perhaps no longer be so distracted from her work.

“Look who's thinking loud now.” you mumbled around the edge of your wine glass, finally taking a sip of the damn thing. Miranda wouldn't hesitate to bet that you assumed it was somehow poisoned even though you watched her open the bottle. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

Miranda hummed softly, “Do you really wish to know?”

You chuckled, and Miranda's eyes were drawn to the way your jaw clenched and unclenched when the wine hit your taste buds again, “With the way you were staring at my neck...it's not that hard to guess, Miranda.”

“You're only half right, my dear.” At your raised eyebrows, Miranda's smirk only widened, “My hands were wrapped around that strong neck again, but breaking it is far from my mind now .”

Your snort turned into a chuckle that was clearly infectious as Miranda joined you. Nothing was remotely that funny, if it was funny at all, but you were tired and the situation brought forth too many emotions for you, either of you to really process, and all you could was just...laugh.

Miranda was the first to sober up a bit though the smile never completely left her features. “Ah, and well... you know, it wouldn't do to try and kill the only other person on this wretched rock who knows me. Will it?”

You're very well the only person in this wretched world that will ever know the real me and still love me for it. Quite a miserable thought, isn't it?

You jumped when the door opened behind you and Alcina stepped into the room—you'd almost forgot where you were for a moment. Almost. Alcina took one look at the two of you, curious to find you actually still in the room much less sitting at the table sharing a glass of wine with Miranda. Especially with what she overheard earlier and how much tension you two create together.

Alcina knew that she interrupted something, probably something she had no business to but that did not stop her from sitting back down in her chair in her goddamn castle. And whatever drama that was happening within her territory was now her drama and she was going to get a front row seat. Alcina lit up another one of her cigarillos and pulled heavy before she released it in your direction.

“Running a business is quite the headache when no one else understands your vision, I swear. Don't have kids, (Y/n). They're messy and nothing but trouble.”

“Noted.” you forced a chuckle, not taking her bait but now you were trying to finish your wine as quickly as possible without seeming like you were trying to run.

“Well, how about it then, (Y/n)? Tell us a story, you couldn't have been a mercenary your entire life. Or have you?” You glanced at Miranda and saw that she was glaring at Alcina but the taller woman wasn't paying her any mind. And really, the only reason Miranda hasn't verbally intervened is because she was interested in your answer as well. Even if Alcina was asking just to poke at the situation for her own amusement.

“I've put away my shield and sword a long time ago,” you didn't bother to mention that you did keep them both in pristine condition just in case, “I've been enjoying the little things life has to offer.” lame. And a lie.

“Oh come now,” Alcina scoffed, not accepting your answer—it wasn't a very good one anyway, “That's—”

“Actually,” When it was clear that Miranda wasn't going to save you from this woman's nosiness (why would she?) You quickly drank the rest of the wine, it was really too sour for you, and rose from the chair. “I think I'll try to get some more sleep. Thanks for the wine and...yeah.” Could you be any more awkward?

Alcina was howling by the time the door slammed shut behind you and she took another pull from her cigarette stick, still paying no heed to Miranda's heated glare. “Oh, you're going to have to tie that one down if you want her to talk to you.”

“I will have your head if you stick your nose in my business again, Dimitrescu.”

“Then don't store your business in my castle.” Alcina shot back, meeting Miranda's glare head on but immediately conceded when she felt Miranda's growling through the vibrations of her glass in her hand that was still resting on the table. “Alright, alright...but you're always welcome to use my dungeons. Use chains though those biceps of hers could probably break through the ropes.”

“Alcina, that is enough!”

The Lady of the castle just laughed lightly until it tapered off into a pleasant hum around her famous Sanguis Virginis wine while watching Miranda readjust her face mask. Her eyes brighter than they have been the last few hours., Alcina pushed for one more question—deciding to risk Miranda's wrath, “How'd you ever let such a handsome creature slip between your fingers?”

Miranda sighed heavily, no pause in her strut to the door, “Egos and misunderstandings.” she was gone before the lock clicked into place.

I'm so sorry for being hella lazy, lol, I'll add the other chapters of this story today 😭😭😭😭

[acahope311]

Silver Lining

Sleepover Request

luna-xial said: So so so I see you have requests open due to your sleepover (also Ohmygosh congratulations!!) and I was wanting to ask if you could do something with Kili for the fluff prompt list, #3??? ❤️❤️ (if not that’s okay, I just wanted to request something because your writing is so good 🥺❤️) (“(She/he/they) don’t compare to you. No one does.”)

A/N Wow! This one is a doozy. I loved writing this, Kili has always been one of my favorite characters, and the prompt lead to so many directions but I chose to do one where angst was not an option🥺 Thank you so much for sending this in @luna-xial and participating in the sleepover 🥰

*I wanted to thank @guardianofrivendell for double-checking my writing and making sure I knew the difference between "pinning" and "pining" LMFAO!*

Warnings: none? I guess self-doubt?

Erebor was bustling. What once was a dormant and abandoned mountain, a reminder of dwarven greed, now symbolized second chances, wealth, and life. Dwarves from the Blue Mountains were flocking to the mountain, some were those who never thought they would live to see the Lonely Mountain rise from the horizon, the rest were ambitious young dwarrows hoping to start anew. Men were also moving back to Dale, revitalizing the growing community in the shadow of the great mountain- of course, King Bard and his family oversaw the restoration of the city and personally welcomed the new arrivals. Whilst similarly in Erebor, Thorin himself rolled up his sleeves and took to reconstructing the home of his forefathers- his Company by his side. Which were quite a sight to see as thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a woman all lifted, chiseled, and swept away rubble, ash, and dirt. Little by little, the fruits of labor began to show and soon the rock-hewn walls seemed to sing the history of the mountain and once the mountain was unearthed, the new dwarves were settled in. You found you had more time to explore the mountain. The grand stone walls of Erebor encased your miniature frame. Funny enough, being a human woman you were head and shoulders taller than most dwarves, but the walls and statues made you shrink. As you quietly made your way through the halls, you’d occasionally run into a group of dwarrow, warm pleasantries were exchanged and small talk was exchanged. Once the mountain was more established and a trade agreement was founded, Thorin had appointed you as a live-in ambassador to Dale and Mirkwood, much to his chagrin. At first living in the mountain had a rocky start, Durin’s folk were always wary of strangers- especially from another race, but once you had proven yourself time and time again, you were welcomed with open arms. However, some still were reluctant to see you as an ally, making it a point to sometimes emphasize your foreignness. Yet you never held it against them but had always put it up to jealousy, for not only were you the woman who accompanied and aided in the quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain alongside Thorin Oakenshield, but you were very close to the Durin princes-- especially Kili. From the moment you and Kili met, the Company knew you were both trouble. Being both the youngest in the group meant mischief that even Fili had to take a step back to make sure you two were not in over your heads. At first, it was all fun and games, but somewhere along the line, you realized that he meant so much more to you than a friend; you loved him. You’d carried this torch with you throughout the whole quest and although you’d hoped it would extinguish, his sunlight smiles, friendly touches, and adoring eyes fanned the flames of your feelings- it didn’t help that he would always make time to end every night in conversation with you. As time went on, even Fili could see your pining and couldn’t help but smile fondly knowing that you and his brother held mutual feelings but were just too blinded by their infatuation for each other to realize the truth.

One day, at the training grounds when you and Fili were free from your duties, the golden prince set his plan into action. As he stood by the side, he seemed to be lost in thought- reliving an earlier conversation he had with his brother.

“Fi, what do I do?” Kili wailed, sitting in front of his brother as he patiently waited for him to comb his hair. Fili sighed, he knew that wail very well.

“Whatever do you mean, brother dear?” He said teasingly while pulling on a particularly tough knot. Resisting the tugs, Kili began to rant.

“You know what I mean. What do I do about y/n? I want to start the courting process, even Uncle thinks it’s a good idea, but I am so lost… I don’t even know if she returns my feelings.” Kili’s head droops a little at the thought of you not loving him the same way. Fili chuckles at his expense, the sound causing Kili to huff in faux indignation. “I’m glad you’re having a good laugh at my expense brother.”

“Forgive me nadad, but that is such a crazy notion. She loves you, I can see it in the way she lights up when you’re in the room, did you know that?” He says as he continues to untangle the knots in his raven hair.

“Truly?” Kili asks with a little more pep in his tone.

“Truly. You’d think Mahal himself walked into the room with the way her eyes brighten.” Fili smiles as he remembers how in an earlier discussion between you and him, your whole demeanor changed the moment his brother came into the room- like a plant being watered after a drought.

“Do not doubt, brother. She loves you fiercely.” With a reassuring pat on Kili’s shoulder, Fili stands and prepares himself for the day.

“But for Mahal’s sake, fix your hair. I’m sure even she wouldn’t want a prince with a rat’s nest for hair. Amad will shave you if you keep that up!” Fili said as he saw Kili ruffle his hard work.

“I know that! But I also know she’ll love me if I am as smooth as a newborn bairn. She said she loved my hair once on the quest, just before we all fell asleep.” He swooned at the memory. “You don’t understand Fi. I think she is the one, MY One. And I want to do right by her.” Kili’s eyes shone with determination. Speechless, Fili stares at his brother. Then laughs a hearty laugh, confusing Kili.

“What’s so funny?!” He asks, a bit embarrassed. Fili wipes the tears away as he controls his breathing.

“Nothing bad, it’s just that… You truly can find the good in anything! It wasn’t but a moment ago that you were wailing about her not loving you and now you’re declaring her your One.” Fili explains, again brushing his little brother’s hair.

“Oh… Brother, I only do that because of her. She always sees the positive side of everything- and I want to be like that to her. But I can’t do this on my own. Will you help me?” Kili asks timidly. Fili stops and looks directly at him,

“Of course.”

The sound of wood splintering brings Fili back to the present. You ended up breaking the wooden pole and looking sheepishly at him. Sighing fondly, he helps you find a replacement. Once a new one has taken its place, you resume your training while Fili observes.

“You know.” Fili inquired, breaking the silence. “You seem to be so skilled with the sword. Have you tried other weapons?” As you attack a wooden post, the question causes you to pause mid-swing. Pondering this, a small flush creeps onto your face. Suddenly shy, you look down.

“I have been wanting to learn how to shoot a bow…” You whisper as a certain dark-haired prince’s visage of letting loose a quiver of arrows flash in your mind. “I’d always admired how Kili could so quickly nock an arrow and aim with such precision in such a short amount of time. All with a smile, did you know that? That cheeky cub.” You said smiling unknowingly.

Fili smirked. “Now, why would you want to learn how to use a bow, y/n?” he asks- already knowing the answer. As you squirm uncomfortably under his questioning, the silence stretches out. After what seems to be a lifetime, you look up and answer with a determined gleam in your eye.

“Because I want to impress Kili.” You say softly, but resolutely. The answer stuns Fili into silence. After a heartbeat of silence, you continue.

“I know I am not of royal or noble descent. Nor am I rich- I’m not even a dwarf! But I do truly love your brother. I cannot offer much but I would like to start by offering the time to get to better understand his favorite weapon.” You pause, unsure whether you should continue, but you push on. “From what I understand, weaponry and skills are an important part of dwarven courtship, and I would like to take that chance… I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Your brother is worth that chance-- and if nothing comes from it, I at least can say that I tried. ” A loving look passes your face, reminding him of the times you all sat around the fire and listened to his brother’s stories- already he knew you had fallen hard. ‘She always sees the positive side of everything’, Kili’s voice resonates in his mind.

“But I am still a novice in this… So I may need your help?” You conclude, less confident than what you meant. Exhaling in relief, Fili smiles and turns around. At first, you are worried that you’d insulted him, but when he returns promptly with a bow and a quiver of arrows, your face breaks into a grin.

“I’d gladly teach you,” Fili says proudly as he hitches his belt. You nod and reach for the bow, but at the last minute, he pulls away.

“But I can think of a better teacher, right brother?” A chuckle resonates from the sidelines behind you. Turning around, you see Kili walking towards you, smiling. He reaches for the bow and arrows from Fili and knocks foreheads softly.

“Thank you.” Fili pulls away and nods, as he moves to the exit he passes by you and winks.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Silently, the golden prince leaves the training area- leaving you alone with Kili. Turning to him, you can't help but notice your heartbeat so fast that you're sure he can hear it. The silence grows as you both stare at each other until he clears his throat

"I know Fili may have said that I'd be a better teacher, but I will be honest… I don't think I am." He confesses as he subconsciously nocks an arrow and pierces the wooden post.

"I learned by example, but I will teach you everything I know and by the end of the day, you'd be the best archer in all of Erebor." He says sweetly. "Well… second best. After me of course." Correcting himself. You gasp at his cheekiness and punch his shoulder playfully.

"Alright, alright. Let's get this lesson started."

Several hours passed, and so had several arrows yet not one hit the target. You were out of breath, your arms shaking so much you could barely lift the bow. Kili looked over you, took in the sight of your sweaty form and shaking arms. He sat on the ground with a thump- the sound surprising you.

"Kili? Are you alright?" You asked worriedly, kneeling down next to him.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, not looking at you. Confused, you take his hand into yours and begin to rub his arm comfortingly.

"What do you mean? No need to apologize, you're a great teacher- I'm just a bad student hahaha!" You joke. However, Kili shakes his head.

"No, I'm a better teacher than this, it's just that I am distracted…" he admits, further confusing you. Kili continues, "I heard what you said with Fili." Shocked, you ask, "How much did you hear…?" You look down, unable to meet his eyes.

"All of it." Your shoulders droop in dismay. Ashamed, you begin to pull away, but his grip tightens.

"You don't need to be anything for me, y/n. I don't need a princess nor do I need a lady- I just need you." Kili's confession snaps your eyes to his.

"You don't mean that." You respond, barely a whisper. Your eyes fall on your lap once again, but Kili tilts your chin up so your eyes stare into his deep brown eyes.

"I do, amrâlimê. With every ounce of my being." He smiles the smile that can make even the darkest nights seem like morning. Still, clouds of doubt linger.

"I came from nothing, Kili… You are a prince, there are so many other dwarrowdams, clothed and draped with gems and gold- I cannot compare to that. You deserve-" Suddenly you're pulled forward and silenced as his lips meet yours. At first, Kili seems hesitant, giving you enough time to pull away, but to his relief, you begin to kiss him back. Your hand reaches up and caresses his cheek, while his free hand pulls you in closer, deepening the kiss. For a moment, the clouds break and all thoughts of doubt leave your mind, replaced by a feeling of wholeness-- as though you had found a half you'd never known you'd lost. Reluctantly, however, you both pull away to breathe but bring your foreheads together, basking in each other's presence- time begins to move again.

"My heart belongs to no one except to you, y/n. You are my One and I love you. Don't worry about them; they cannot compare to you. No one can." He breathes, cupping your face in both his hands. Unbeknownst to you, tears trail down your eyes.

"But-" He kisses you again, softly. Brushing away any second thoughts you'd have.

"No buts. Do you know why they don't compare? It's because, in the end, I know they will only want me for my title and gold. But you?" He wipes your tears away and smiles lovingly at you. "You love me for me. You'd seen me at my highs and lows. Moreover, you always show me the bright side of everything, ghivashel. They can keep their gems and golden gowns. For you are my silver lining." With that, Kili pulls you into a tight hug and all you can do is smile as the clouds of doubt break. Assuring you that come what may, no matter what clouds your thoughts, Kili's love for you is true, and will always show you the bright side- he is your silver lining.

[childrenofthenightt]

heart of gold (chapter four)

pairing: robert plant x florence bennett (oc)

warnings: allen being a weirdo as usual, fluff, angst and friendship :’)

words: 4.3k

summary: trapped in a loveless marriage to a powerful man, florence bennett lives every day in despair. after a chance encounter with a golden-haired actor, florence finds that her life will never be the same again.

author’s note: folks!! this took a lot longer to write for a number of different reasons but hey!! it’s here now :) not much to say in this one cause i don’t wanna spoil, but if anyone has any theories, feedback or suggestions please let me know! hope you enjoy <333

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

masterlist

playlist

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“Dear angel, I hope you are faring well. This note, unlike the rest, is rather short. I felt I should be quick, and frank, too. If you happen to find yourself at the Bennett manor for the upcoming ball, I will be present as well. Perhaps, if fate allows it, we may meet, finally. I will be wearing a silver gown, with chiffon detailing. Look for me, and I will do the same. Forever yours, stranger.”

Stunned silence fills the elegant dressing room as Robert reads the short letter over once more, his fingers tracing the letters as though the action would reveal a devastating brand of trickery. For all intents and purposes, however, the letter seemed to be perfectly earnest; a fact that Bonzo, sitting next to him with a cigarette dangling from his lips, enjoyed reminding him of.

“Robert, she wants to meet with you. You want to meet with her. We must go to the ball. I’ll even help you pick out a suit,” he drawls, lazily throwing his head back against the plush cushioned chair as he gazes over at Robert. “I am convinced this is the longest you’ve gone without talking, to be quite honest.”

The blond sat unmoving, eyes never straying from the slip of paper clenched in his hands. He hasn’t spoken a word since reading it, and his eyes roam over each line as though he was unable to fully take in the words that flow across the page. Slowly, the man's eyes raise from the letter, meeting Bonzo’s as shock swims in the cerulean pools.

“Bonzo.”

“Ah, he speaks!”

“She wants to…”

“Meet you? Yes, she does,” Bonzo finishes the man’s sentence with a hearty chuckle, and his arm raises to pat Robert on the arm. The chestnut-haired man continues, shaking his head at the blond’s nervous antics. “We need to find you a suit; an expensive one, at that. The Bennett’s are just short of nobility after all. We might have to cut your hair, too.”

“What? Why would we do that?” The blond’s hands fly towards the tips of his golden ringlets almost unconsciously, and he cards long fingers through them. Uncertainty is painted upon his handsome face, and Bonzo smirks, a chuckle leaving his mouth.

“Just because you’re an actor, Robert, does not mean you need to look like one. Long hair signifies that you’re loose. Easy, if you will. Even if it does have a kernel of truth to it…”

“And you’re definitely sought after, are you not, Bonzo? Quite suave, if memory serves.”

Bonzo huffs out a laugh, and gazes over at Robert, as he blows a gauzy cloud of smoke into the air. A smirk graces his features as his lips twitch in an attempt to hide it, and he shoves Robert’s arm amicably. “All in due time, my friend. All in due time.”

“I’m sure.”

“Regardless of how I am faring in that particular department, we were talking about you, were we not?” Bonzo replies, locking eyes with Robert, earnest now, as he searches the man’s face. Seemingly not finding what he was looking for, his dark brows furrow. “Why are you so nervous in the first place? Women almost flock to you, yet you’re quivering at the possibility of meeting this one.”

Robert sighs, shifting uncomfortably under Bonzo’s penetrating gaze. He was as nervous as he is, because this woman… it’s as if she had known him all his life. She was charming, and intelligent, talking of wonderful novels and intricate poems. To Robert, whenever he read a letter she had written, he could almost hear her twinkling laughter, and see her smile that sparkled in his mind. Her soul was utterly beautiful, and it seemed to have entwined with his. Robert can only hope, however, that she feels the same.

“I… I do not know what she looks like, or how she is in person. That’s all,” Unable to let those thoughts linger in the tense air of the dressing room, Robert comes up with the best excuse he could muster under the circumstances. “I do think it is a cause for concern, is it not?”

“Well, Plant,” Stilling the shaking of one hand with the other, Robert returns Bonzo’s stare, until the moustachioed man smirks once more. He had obviously seen through the ruse, and it was only a matter of time before Robert became the laughing stock of the entire theatre. The two are locked still in a staring match, without a single movement from either. Oddly enough, though, Bonzo looks away first. The smirk still dangling from his lips proves that the conversation will be continued eventually. “I wish you luck, then. Truly, I do hope it goes well tonight.”

“Thank you, Bonzo. I appreciate your support. Truly I do.”

“I’m sure. Now,” Bonzo stands with a huff, stretching an arm out towards Robert. The blond takes it and raises from the comfortable chaise, and the two friends saunter out of the room, laughter following them. “How about we get ready for the ball? You must look put-together, and oftentimes, you’re not exactly the picture of elegance…”  Bonzo’s voice trickles out past the crack left in the door, and Robert’s squawk of offense rings across the empty room.

-----

Florence steps in front of the floor-length mirror that decorates her room, and she feels beautiful, for what may very well be the first time in years. In the beginning, Allen had showered her with compliments, and made her feel truly loved. His words soured, eventually, and she bore the brunt of his treatment ever since. Finally, though, she was doing something for herself. To make herself happy. If you ask anyone that truly knows her, they would point out that Florence was altruistic, almost to the point of self-effacement. She had lived much of her adult life playing an impossible role. Tonight, she meets her beloved actor.

Appearing suddenly behind her in the mirror, almost like a mirage, Emma takes in the way her friend is fiddling with the dress they had picked out together. It was a beautiful silver that gleamed in the dusky moonlight, with accents of soft chiffon that could only add to the ethereal quality. Dressed in her own gown, a canary yellow that made her eyes gleam like gemstones, Emma dares a smile of her own.

“Florence, you look lovely. Are you excited?”

“Oh!” Florence turns, dress swaying with the motion, as she finally notices Emma standing behind her. A fair blush rises on her freckled cheeks, and a carefree giggle leaves her cherry-red lips. “You look wonderful, Emma! James will not be able to tear his eyes away, I reckon. As for your question, I’m… incredibly nervous. I will be honest with you.”

“Nervous? Florence, this could be an incredible night. It will work out.” says Emma, purposefully not touching on the first half of Florence’s sentence. She didn’t want to think about James at the moment, or she would get distracted.

“I can’t help my nerves, because… what if this is all for nothing? What if he isn’t nearly as kind as he seems, and I am trapped once more? Emma, I do not know if I could bear it.”

“Ever the pessimist,” Emma sighs, a smile growing on her tanned cheeks. She grasps the other woman’s arm, thumb rubbing circles into covered skin, bringing Florence much-needed comfort. As soon as she lets the arm fall, Florence begins to pace around the room. Emma sighs and moves closer in an attempt to still the woman’s frayed nerves.  “Luckily for us, I am quite the optimist. Florence, he cares for you, and that is plain to see. You proposed that he wouldn't be quite what you imagined, but what if he’s more? In addition, if he is treating you unkindly at any point, you have the right to leave.”

“I… suppose you are right, Emma.”

“As always,” Emma scoffs jokingly, as she saunters closer. Her hand brushes a tendril of hair, which had fallen in Florence’s face in the midst of her panic, back into the sleek bun of golden brown. “Now, as much as I hate to subject you to this, Allen is waiting in the main hall. He needs you for the grand entrance, after all.”

“Oh, goody.”

“Ah, some sarcasm to start off the night.”

The women chuckle softly as they make last-minute adjustments in the clear surface of the mirror. Satisfied, they lock eyes, and arm in arm, they walk out the door and down the winding staircase to the main floor. Allen is leaning against a carved column, and, detecting the disruption, he scoffs and pushes to stand straight.

“Finally. I thought you would never be finished. Come, Florence,” Allen, seemingly for the first time, notices his wife’s companion, and the sneer that was almost permanently etched onto his face appears yet again. “Always a pleasure, Ms. Weston.”

“Likewise, Mr, Bennett.”

A tense silence permeates the room, until Allen clears his throat rather impolitely, and whisks Florence away with a final smrk drowning derision, and they’re gone. In the stillness of the room, Emma whispers, “Good luck, Florence.”

The woman reckons that she’ll need it.

-------

As Florence steps into the ballroom, her mouth falls open, a gasp tumbling past her lips. Flowers of every shape and tint decorate the gold-gilded walls, and lanterns pour faint yellow light across the room. The magnificent chandelier, crystals twinkling like stars, casts faint shadows across the faces of the guests, who promenade across the dance floor, mingling and laughing. Sets of double doors lead out onto a beautiful, moonlit balcony, the glow of bright starlight filtering in through the windows.

Stopping at the entrance, arm in arm with Allen and Emma at her side, she marvels as she takes in the sights. The ballroom, of course, was always as elegant and luxurious without the celebrations taking place, yet it seemed that Allen had wanted to go the extra mile. For what he lacked in kindness, Florence thinks, he makes up for in his apparent prowess regarding interior design. A quiet laugh flutters involuntarily past her lips, and Allen looks down at her, confusion drawing his dark eyebrows together.

“Florence, dear, what is it now?”

Caught, she shakes her head, a pliant smile gracing her features. Apparently satisfied, Allen looks back to the crowd that had gathered to celebrate him, propelling her forward with a hand that sits dangerously low on her lower back. Disgust souring her expression for a split second, she recovers, and plasters on that ever-present smile that feels like a lie.

“Welcome all. I am truly grateful that we could all gather, to celebrate…” Allen’s words seem to simply evaporate before they could reach Florence’s ear, as the woman’s gaze roams around the ballroom, searching for a head of perfect golden curls. Unable to spot the man she’s been writing to for the better part of a month, she sighs quietly, holding onto the sliver of hope that he had really come. Wrenched out of her thoughts by the hand at her back slipping perilously lower, she registers how Allen coaxes her to move, and she steps forward, staring at the scowl full of irritation on his lips. Locking eyes with Emma, who had moved further into the crowd, she is greeted by a comforting smile, and Florence nods her head in gratitude.

Allen, his hold firm, almost bruising on her arm, leads her around the room. She greets guests, many immersed in the same secret lifestyle as Allen, and Florence knows that she will forget their names completely come morning. Their smiles always seem to be too wide, and their eyes hold an intense look that Florence has spent years trying to decipher. She’s used to her role by now, pasting on a beaming grin that almost hurts the longer she holds it, and curtsying at every man they greet. Oftentimes they are ‘dear’ friends of Allen’s, no doubt just as sycophantic as her husband.

An hour or so passes, though it feels like an eternity to Florence, as Allen pulls her off to an unoccupied corner of the room. His hand slithers to land at her shoulder in what was possibly meant to be a loving gesture, though it sends chills down her back. Tilting her head up with a thick finger, Allen leans closer to her, his hot breath fanning across her face.

“I must go speak to a very important friend of mine. Roam around the ball, if you wish, but Florence, dear?”

“Y-yes, dear?”

“One wrong move, and this night could be ruined. Do try and be careful. I do hope you haven’t forgotten our previous conversation.”

With the thinly veiled threat hanging heavy in the air, he is gone, navy waistcoat fluttering behind him. Florence, shoulders falling from their tensed position around her ears, gazes out at the sea of faces, amusement and glee etched onto their features as they twirl around the room. The atmosphere is suffocating, and the woman glances back at the festivities, shaking her head solemnly as she slips out of the ornate French doors. Safe under the soft, starry cover of moonlight, Florence allows herself a deep, almost world-weary sigh, as her eyes sweep across the immaculately-tended gardens that decorate the back of the manor.

She’d lost Emma around the time Allen had paraded her around like a prize, and, come to think of it, she hadn’t seen James for quite some time, as well. He and John had busied themselves with serving beverages and appetizers on shining silver trays, but it seemed as though James had slipped away. She hopes Emma and James are together, finally working out the feelings they so clearly have for each other.

The clipped sound of footsteps against the cobbled floor of the balcony brings Florence out of her thoughts, and with another heavy sigh, she addresses the intruder, face still turned upwards to gaze at the glowing crescent moon.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid that I am simply not in the mood to—” The sentence trails off, words dying in her throat as she finally turns around. Familiar golden curls sway in the light evening breeze, and cerulean eyes send ice water pooling in her veins. The slight smirk that sits elegantly on thin lips seems to waver slightly, as though the man was nervous, though he seems to recover quickly. He takes a step closer, and Florence can smell the soft, irresistible scent of sandalwood.

“I’m… It’s… It’s you.”

“Astute observation, love. You did tell me to look for a certain silver gown, did you not?” The smirk that her actor is sporting only serves to set every nerve on fire, and Florence sputters, all semblance of confidence leaving her, already lacking as it was. Her indignant expression only serves to make the man chuckle and shake his head fondly, silken ringlets swaying with the movement. His hair is much, much longer than what was thought to be socially appropriate, yet the man does not seem to care. He looks comfortable, rather easy-going, and his relaxed smile sends her stomach aflutter.

“It seems you take instruction well. That is certainly good to know.” Florence recovers enough to reply, her smile growing as she takes in the amused look on the tanned, handsome face of the man in front of her. Somehow, he was even more attractive, almost magnetic, to her the closer she looked.

“One of my many talents, I assure you,” Robert chuckles, eyes gleaming like jewels in the dim evening light. The stars were reflected in those deep blue depths, and if Florence stepped any closer, she swore that she would drown. “That is a lovely gown you’re wearing. The colour, especially, is remarkable. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from you, inside.”

“You… noticed me?”

“You act as if that is difficult to do. If I’m honest, I was waiting for the right moment to steal you away. When you stepped out, I knew it was my only chance.”

“I-I must say,” Florence starts, chancing a look up at him through her eyelashes. She, hesitance clear on her face, steps closer to him, finally, and the beaming grin that lights up his face is the reward. “I’m glad you took that chance, then.”

The music that filtered, muffled as it was, through the doors seemed to swell and grow louder. Robert’s hand raises, ghosting his knuckles across her cheek as though he were afraid of breaking her, and he smiles, charming as ever.

“May I have this dance, love?”

Florence can only nod, as her hands slip into his, the friction caused by the warm, calloused feel of his palm somehow exhilarating to the young woman. He pulls her closer, placing his free hand on her hip. He was tall, much taller than Florence, and he gazes down at her as they sway together. Being here, in the arms of this stranger that she swears she had known her entire life, she feels content.

Hopeful.

Robert, subtle control in the way he leads Florence through the dance, is graceful in his movements, and perfectly respectful. His hand never strays from its place on her hip, and with a light squeeze to the hand in his, he spins her around, perfect synchronicity in their movements.

Florence’s eyes lock on something behind the man, then, and her lips turn up in a subtle smile. From her place on the balcony, Florence could see the staircase in the grand hall, just out of view of the ballroom. Through the window, hidden behind a carefully-carved pillar, she spots Emma and James, locked in a dance of their own. Emma’s hand, resting on James’ shoulder, rises to trail across the man’s cheek. Traces of the bruising that had marred the man’s face still remain, and Emma’s face contorts in a look of sadness at the sight. James shakes his head, lips moving with no sound to follow, and Emma gazes earnestly back at him. Slowly lowering her head onto James’ shoulder, they continue to rock back and forth. A beautiful private moment, for sure.

“What is it, love?”

“It was nothing. You’re quite good at this, aren’t you?”

“This is but a perk of being an actor, I’m afraid,” says Robert, twirling her around once more. Moonbeams dance around them as the light fall wind whistles in harmony with the music. “You know, I must say that I was quite surprised, that a single performance of mine endeared you enough to send me a note. Was it truly that enjoyable?”

“You are a wonderful actor, but that smart mouth of yours might get you into trouble.” Florence replies, a giggle marking the end of her sentence. Her eyes light up in bliss as blue meets muddy hazel, and they are alone, everyone inside fading into the background; simply an array of colours in a painting.

“My smart mouth? You are not exactly innocent in that respect. Speaking of… your letters. They were incredibly poetic. I enjoyed each one, I will admit.”

“A childhood dream of mine, if you can believe it, was to be a poet, or perhaps an author.”

“I would read every volume.”

The blush that blooms on Florence’s freckled cheeks makes Robert smile, and the laugh that tumbles from his lips makes Florence wish she could simply stop time, and live in that moment forever.

“You know what they say, love.” The confusion clear on the woman’s face brings a satisfied smile to Robert’s face, which Florence frowns at. She had never enjoyed not knowing, and the man had taken full advantage of that.

“And what, pray tell, do they say?”

“The shortest poem is a name. May I have yours?”

“I-I don’t simply give my name out to strangers. Perhaps if I knew your name, however…” The smirk that plays across Florence’s rosy lips makes Robert laugh, and unconsciously, he pulls the woman even closer. The music continues, ebbing and flowing, and the couple continue their dance, both physically and verbally.

“Hm, you are very cunning.”

“One of my many talents, I assure you.”

“And witty, too. It’s quite refreshing,” Robert squeezes the woman’s hip lightly, playfully, and she smiles up at him innocently. As beautiful as she was, which, in Robert’s opinion, could not be overstated, the actor detected a hint of sadness that hung around the woman like a shroud. He could see the way her smile never lasted for as long as he’d like, and how her eyes seemed to dim, a faraway look replacing the gleeful expression he had put there. Despite this, she seemed to have an inner strength that often remained under lock and key. She had shown a glimpse tonight, and he longed for another. Shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts clouding his mind, Robert continues, smiling easily. “My name, love, is Robert. Robert Plant.”

“Robert…” Florence repeats, almost testing the name out on her tongue. “It suits you.”

“Now that we are no longer strangers, may I put a name to that beautiful face?”

“O-okay, I suppose it’s only fair. My name is Florence… Bennett.” The moment of hesitation was long enough that confusion paints Robert’s features, until recognition, and not long after, shock, wipes it away.

“Bennett, as in…”

“Yes.”

The couple had stilled, now, though Robert’s hand still warmed the skin of her hip through the gown. Florence, gaze firmly on the ground, refuses to look at Robert, whose mouth opens and closes, stunned.

“Robert, I-I’m sure this has changed everything, and… maybe it is better if we leave this here. I—”

“Florence, it’s—”

“I should go.” As soon as the words leave Florence’s mouth, she disentangles herself from Robert, and moves to re-enter the ballroom. Almost to the door, she feels a warm hand settle on her wrist. It’s soft; the hold. She could easily slip out of it, if she had wanted to. But she hadn’t.

“What—Where are you going?” Florence is still facing away from him, but she didn’t pull away, and Robert counts this as a good sign. He takes a step closer, the hold on Florence’s hand never wavering, and she winces when she hears the tap of his pointed shoes drawing closer.

“This is not fair to you… I hurt everything I touch, it seems, and… I don’t want you to be caught in the crossfire, Robert. Please understand.”

“I don’t care.”

“Robert, I’m serious.”

“And you believe I’m not?”

“I will break your heart. Don’t do this to yourself… I’m not worth it. Please.”

Robert scoffs, then, and Florence doesn't have to look at him to see the determined line of his lips. She doesn't have to look at him to see how he is shaking his head almost bitterly. His thumb traces over the fine bones of her wrist like a feather, and as much as she wished with all her heart that it hadn’t, it brought her comfort.

“Break my heart, then. It would be worth the pain, being close to you. You, Florence, are worth everything. Anyone that says otherwise is delusional.”

At this, Florence turns around abruptly, and the storm swirling in her dark eyes is clear to see. A droplet of salty water trickles down her red cheeks, flushed with conviction, and she struts closer to Robert.

“You don’t know what Allen Bennett is like, and you do not deserve to. I will beg, if I must. Please, don’t do this.”

“Love, you will not sway me on this. I feel a genuine, special connection to you, and this month of writing to you has been… truly perfect. I am not giving up on you… on us, because I could get hurt.”

Florence knows that if he insists once more, she could not stop him. She wants Robert, and everything that comes with him; of course she does. She would be irrational not to. But she knows how Allen is. How possessive he is, even as he revels in the arms of another. Robert is an amalgamation of everything that is good in the world, it seems to her then, with a heart of gold to drive the point further. She could not forgive herself if anything changed that.

“Robert…”

The man in question slips into her space, a long finger lifting her chin to face him. A traitorous tear trickles down her cheeks, and Robert wipes it away with a thumb, looking into Florence’s eyes all the while. Enraptured with each other, they press closer, and Florence can feel Robert’s breath fan over her face. His hand caresses her cheek lightly, and her eyes flit down to his lips. Their noses touch, and then, as if divine intervention, the door opens. John steps onto the balcony, smirking into his hand as he watches the couple spring apart.

“Terribly sorry to interrupt. Florence, your… husband is looking for you.”

“T-thank you, John. I will be right in.”

John nods, and disappears back into the ballroom, with a private smile directed at the woman. Looking back at Robert, Florence takes in the hint of a flush on his own face, and knows that she must look the same. Tentatively taking his hand in hers, she interlocks their fingers in a loose hold, in case they are forced apart once again. That is as close as she’s willing to get in such a public area, now that she knows Allen is on the prowl, but Robert smiles at her all the same.

“When can I see you again, Florence?”

“Allen is… I believe he is out often, this coming week. I will write to you.”

Robert nods, and squeezes the hand resting in his, a smile playing about his lips. He pulls away, then, and moves to the door, when a hand curls around his once more.

“Robert?”

“Yes, love?”

“Be careful.”

With that, she slips around him, opening the door and stepping through. The scent of her perfume, something light and floral, dances around him as she passes.

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taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages @kyunisixx @sophiazeppelinchick @reincarnated70sbaby @grxtsch @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @thebeatlesuniverse @dreamersdrowse (let me know if you want to be added!)

[kajikxp]

Loving a king

I was just walking through a dark allay, my footsteps were not heard by a man I was calmly following. He was scared, he knew subconsciously that something was after him. Yeah, he should be terrified. But today I'm gonna make it quick. I don't have time to spare. I took out my dagger, which would pierce your skin just by touching the blade... With one swift motion I grabbed his neck hard, which would normally leave a bruise and then I silenced his cries for help with one precise cut. Blood splashed out and now his lifeless body hit the cold ground, but before that I grabbed the key, he wore on silver chain around his neck. Another well done job, now I have to go to her, but firstly, I have to change my clothes, sun is going to rise in fifteen minutes. I climbed up onto roof and silently run back to my house. Sky was clear today, but I knew it was going to rain today. This way they'd find his body maybe tomorrow afternoon when their boss would send others to look around for him. I will still have time to do that one job. That's what I thought but I didn't know that she actually left a letter inside my dark house, where now I was. I stripped from my black shirt, pants and boots then just started making myself a coffee. Thank to my scumbag of father I could withstand three days without a sleep but at least that is what killed him. He was creating me like some monster so I show him that what this monster could do. Only thing he taught me was killing so in return I turned back at him for underestimating me. After some time, I met a Momo, she was kind enough to me to give me a shelter and food and lastly a job which I could do. Still people would be conscious if I would live here and did not nothing in a daylight, so I have to find a job at closest bakery. They didn't ask questions why I was always tired and why I was sometimes late – or maybe that was because I would always tell them that I have insomnia and something along those line that they left me be. With coffee in me I put on after a shower light blue shirt with brown pant and boots and left house to the bakery. People always looked at me and I did not care anymore. My half red and half white hair really were weird and not to mention my mismatched eyes, grey and light blue. I was quite but really not so unfriendly, or that was what Deku and Kirishima always told me. I only have a rough exterior but soft inside. I never really care enough to tell them I'm not. Not after that once time when I told them I'm the assassin and they laugh it off with Kaminari and Sero. If they would believe me and sold me to the crown, they would be filthy rich and shouldn't work for their three lifetimes. Well, who am I to judge? Their mistakes are theirs and only. Today flight right around me. Deku and Kirishima making out in the storage room, Shinso half a day in the bakery sipping a coffee reading a book and looking out for Kaminari. Always the same as the day before. I was cleaning on today's duty which was mine and one last customer came in. He had glasses, was tall and talked like some kind of robot, asking for a croissant for a royalty. I didn't really care and did as ordered. When he left my only though was about me seeing him again maybe. Yeah, I was about to do a regicide and betray the kingdom, but I couldn't care less. Hope it will go fine. I told myself back at home in my black outfit only for killing even smelling faintly like it and iron.

...

Silently going through a palace like it was mine, outside only noises of a rain. Guards couldn't see me, when I was walking in the shadows and thanks to their chatting about really loud king, I was finally able to find his room from which were heard loud blasting and loud voices, actually three of them. One of them I heard today. The robot-like human. I had a feeling I would meet him again. Well, I need those two to go away. Then a plan strokes me. I made a ruckus in the hallway when a made one of the guards scream and after that I cut of his tongue. He kept screaming though. The doors open in a fast manner and some pretty girl runs outside. "Iida, run and call a medic! Fast!" She screams at him when she checks situation. Guard kept his eyes on me screaming and pointing finger at me. Before she could turn around and maybe see me, I waved at a guard and slipped into the room, closed the door and locked them. When I turned around, there was a knife on my throat.  "What the actual fuck are you doing here and what's going on?" Asks a king harshly. He had pretty, scarlet eyes, fire burning everything inside them into ash. His spiky blond hair messed into every direction. I only smiled to myself. "I'm pretty surprised you can actually see me." I grin and them with few swift motions change our positions to reverse only with little dismally to that he pulled my hood off. His eyes travelled all over my face and he whispers. "You're so pretty..." With that he kisses me. I was never ever so much surprised and frozen on a spot. He grabbed the knife and throw it away with my dagger. When I moved, I could only ask him how the fuck did he know about my dagger. "You looked like a shitty person to have one. The Shadow, the one who is the fucking living legend. Every shitty brat knows you, but nobody actually lived long enough to tell the tale how you look like." He smirks. "Who could have known that only way to stop you was a simple kiss" He licks his lips sensually. "And have a fucking good taste even though smelling like a death." He smiles at me and when he takes my face in his hand and caresses me, I don't object, until there's a pounding on the door and screams in the name of a king. "Go and return the other night, Halfie." He whispers and I cannot do otherwise, but before I jump out of the window many meters above the ground, I kiss him and when he wants to deepen it, I break the kiss. "Tomorrow, you Highness." With that I jump out and it makes me laugh, when he runs to the window and looks down, me standing on the window under his. "King who cares about his assassin's health – that's going to make a pretty good history book." I snicker and after he blow me a flirty kiss with a key, which I catch, I go back inside with a hood on and escaped a castle. The heavy rain clouds cleared and the sky only shining with many stars promising a good start of something nobody could ever imagine.

...

Today was a day I have once in a time slept all the night mostly. Once I was on my way to the work in bakery, I could hear all the people talking to each other. "Did you hear that? Someone broken to the castle!" "Did they steal something?" "I know it was a Shadow! They went to kill a king!" "They're after the crown!" "Even his most trusted guards couldn't see them!" "It's only miracle the king still lives!" "The king didn't even tell them how they looked like! Not even a gender!" "They just let him live!" "Do you think they had something with the king?" "I don't think it was a Shadow! Nobody ever lived after meeting them!" "Don't lie! It's a girl and seduced a king!" And so on and so on. I knew that today I was going to meet Momo inside of my house. At least I've got my hood with my work outfit with me. Little did I know that today I was going to meet with her last time. At work I left my things under the table and went to selling to the citizen, who came in. All day all I heard was about the king, me and assassination. Like the day before in the evening came in a royalty. But today it was a king himself. "Get your things, extra, we're going." With that said I just grabbed my things not even looking on the others, who were silenced with one look from a king, and with him we came outside into a dark allay. "Put on you other cloths, Pretty boy, today I'm going to meet the other one, with you..." He whispers into my ear. "You know, they're going to die, right? But you know that exact time, you left me alive, didn't you, Shadow?" His voice so soft and deep even more than ever. My only responds for him was a nod and taking out my black shirt and pants and one for him too. "I think, this would fit you so much better that the red one you're wearing, your Highness." He growls, but when he gets what I meant, he didn't complain anymore and just put it on without looking at me and me at him. This wasn't the time to do this and we both knew that. We're going to make this end. When I jumped at a rooftop, I held out an arm to him, but he surprises me even more, when he uses his strong arms and pull himself up too. I was fast, slim and silent and he was all bulky and strong, I wasn't even sure if in a real fight I or him would win. And that's a hard one when actually almost no one was ever a challenge for me and my assassinations. Without a word I started running from rooftop to the other in a moonlight and its shadows, which I knew too well to his Highness's liking, I was leading us to my house almost at the end of a city. I supposed the king was never here, but he was so natural at learning, that even his steps were more silent than that night at which we met inside his royal room, so I could never guess if he was there or not. My window was opened, and I came in swiftly with king right at my heels. There inside in my armchair was sitting Momo. Her dark hair up in the ponytail as always, I saw her. "So, you're finally here. Hello there, your Highness." She says ironically which was a big change from her usually well-mannered self. "You're on his side right now," she shakes her head in disbelieve. "And here I thought we could be together and rule this kingdom by each other's side. I love you, Shoto!" She declares. "I gave you everything you ever needed and now you're turning your back to me? After all that time? Didn't you love me back?" She asks desperate after I told her everything. She really did save me, but she never did bother to really asked me out, if she did, I would tell her I was gay. I would tell her that all the missions I did just because she gave me money for that, I would tell her that I never really care about a throne. "Then why him? Why? How did you...?" She asked and king answered her honestly. "I just gave him a kiss and asked him in some way out. I had a guts and not only a dream. If you want something to become a true, you have to tell that to someone and with conversation you would get, what you so much wanted, what your heart was craving for." In the end they left her there standing, watching with a broken hea

[ladyinbooks]

So on ao3 juiceboxoverlord mentioned ‘ And the way Hess is so enamoured with Dan's emotions and ideology like I bet that if they had never met Hess would still fall in love with Dan on the battlefield probably.’

We all know I have an absolute, terrible weakness for this kind of thing, so I really, really couldn’t resist.

So have a mini AU.

Title: Such Violent Delights Pairing: Hess/Daniel Summary: The Antichrist and the Righteous Man meet on a battlefield. Warning: Some minor descriptions of violence/death; dub-con kissing (I mean, it’s Hess...); Hess POV

These violent delights have violent ends.

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder.

Which, as they kiss, consume.

- 'Romeo and Juliet', William Shakespeare

Hess should have seen the ambush coming.

They have been doing so well recently, in their push against Heaven. More territory has fallen to them, more people persuaded by their promises, their ideas.

He should have known it would be too good to last.

The sharp crack as he twists his hand and snaps three necks, reminds him of nothing so much as the splintering of wet wood. Around him the sounds of the dead and the dying are a cacophony, topped by Abaddon's voice bellowing orders.

The bone-white of her hair is visible at the edge of his eyeline. In her suit she is still immaculate, barking at Raum and Asmodeus as she directs his troops like the General she is.

It makes him smile – makes him bare his teeth at the next angel that tries to rush him, as he extends a hand.

That terrible, tearing sensation down his arm; a light so bright that even he almost shields his eyes. He gets a hand on the angel's wrist and pulls.

There is the searing crackle of holy flesh; the unholy sound of an angelic voice raised in a scream. The noise is enough to make the humans around him flinch back, pressing hands to their ears, in a desperate attempt to block out the death of a small piece of the fabric of the universe.

Hess ignores the shriek, and the white hot pain cracking through his finger bones. He smiles, bloodied teeth and wicked intent, and drops the carcass to the floor.

He’s distracted, unfocused, and so it is instinct that saves him, nothing more.

The sharp prickle of intent at the nape of his neck, and he sidesteps just in time to avoid a blade to the back.

He pivots; lashes out and catches the next down-swing with a scrap of shadow.

For a moment, all he can focus on is the sharp steel of the blade centimetres from his throat. The line of it is bright, burning; the runes inscribed on it are holy enough they almost make his eyes water.

A blessed blade.

He only knows one person who would carry such a thing.

He sidesteps again in time to avoid the second blade aiming to bury itself in his gut. One, two, three heartbeats, and he draws in a deep breath.

Enough, he thinks, and the word is broadcast out.

Everything shudders to a halt.

Painfully, grinding and unnatural, the world stills around him.

He doesn't often do this – doesn't often have the inclination or the energy – but sometimes there is a need for it. An itch, just to walk in a frozen reality where there are no demands on him. No threats.

“Let me go,” someone says, harsh, and Hess smiles.

He knows who the Righteous Man is, of course. He's seen Daniel Waters in reports and later – when Heaven sank their perfect claws into him – on screen and in newspapers. Images of him plastered everywhere: saviour, hero, madman.

“A little lost lamb,” he says, and hears the sharp intake of breath.

When he turns to look, Daniel Waters is still too. He's not frozen though – not like every other wretched creature in this blood-soaked field. He's bound, arms strung out by Hess's power.

And in spite of that, he's still fighting.

Tall, strong; a sharp jawline and an undeniable presence. Eyes filled with the burning silver fire of heaven, smoking with purity and determination as he wades against Hess's darkness. A battered leather jacket and scuffed up jeans. Mankind's saviour.

Daniel manages a step, then another, muscles straining as he claws his way forward. His teeth are bared as he snarls, and for one moment Hess honestly wonders if he's about to break free.

“Let me go,” he repeats, and his voice is firm and clear.

It makes Hess want to ruin him.

Blood-soaked and perfect, this creature – this man – is the image of bitter triumph; a holy sacrament, born to suffer at the hands of those who would use him. Made to fight anyway, because he's good. Because he cares.

“Why should I?” he asks, and watches the way Daniel doesn't falter.

“So I can kill you.”

And it's –

Delightful. Wonderful. It makes Hess's heartbeat skip in a way it hasn't for a long, long time.

“Well aren't you a sweet thing,” he says, just to watch the way those eyes flare brighter.

It makes him smile; makes him lick the blood from his teeth as he thinks of war and ruination, and all he could wreak on this perfect, violent creature.

Another painful step, the footfall as heavy as the centre of the earth. Daniel is closer now, arms still bound, but near enough that Hess can see the scattered imperfections of him.

A small nick at the corner of his jaw, long since scarred. The tendons of his neck as he strains, desperate, against the ropes Hess has bound him with. Blond hair, so dark it's almost brown, cropped short enough that Hess probably couldn't get a good grip of it. A perfect, snarling mouth, and a dusting of days-old stubble.

For a moment Hess wonders what colour his eyes were, before he became this pawn. This holy weapon. Were they brown, or green, or blue? Would they look at him in the same way?

Movement, and Daniel's foot lashes out. The heel of it manages to catch Hess's shin. It hits hard enough to hurt, and for a moment he falters.

Nothing has come close enough to injure him since the Before, and his concentration shatters.

The roar Daniel lets loose is triumphant as he breaks free. He lunges forward, slamming into Hess. His swords clatter to the grass, but his momentum doesn't stop.

They fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs, calloused fingers wrapping hard around Hess's throat, squeezing.

The weight of him is perfect; the heat and strength of his body a paradise Hess hasn't felt in a long, long time.

It makes him laugh, breathless, and for a moment the grip of those hands on his neck fails.

He moves - fast and terrible enough that Daniel's lip is splitting under his knuckles before he can recover from the shock. The force of it snaps Daniel's head back, and the impact shudders up Hess's arm.

He twists and they roll, scrabbling against one another until Daniel is flat on his back, Hess gripping his wrists, pressing them above his head into the mud. His fingernails are digging in, and he watches the way something flares and dies in Daniel's eyes; in the way he tries to bring a leg up, to fight against the weight of Hess across his thighs.

“Stay still, sweet thing,” Hess says, and can't help the way he leans down, leans closer. “You don't want to make me angry.”

Daniel growls beneath him, dangerous and not at all subdued. “I don't give a fuck about making you angry.”

“You should.”

The softness of Daniel's lips is a shock; the sharp inhalation of his breath a symphony. The warmth of his mouth is a victory. The taste of his blood lingers on the back of Hess's tongue, as he smiles against the Righteous Man's mouth.

He wants this, and he wants this, and he wants this.

The perfect way to get back at Heaven. To tear them down, one sanctimonious, inane figurehead at a time.

Except –

Except –

A pulse, against the pad of his thumb, thundering in time with his own heartbeat. The sharp, vicious sensation of teeth sinking into his lower lip, and Hess sighs at the feel of it.

Daniel is solid heat beneath him, tangible and human. The way he moves, the strength of him – pressed but not contained – makes an ugliness stir in Hess's chest. The first, icy crack of something threatening to splinter wide.

When he pulls back, Daniel is watching him.

“What –” he begins, and his voice is breathless. “What was –”

And this is what Hess wants. This. Those hazel eyes wide – not silver, not silver, not silver – and Heaven's champion strung out beneath him.

It's not a victory, he realises. Not even close. It's a weakness. A terrible, vicious longing to carve his way deep into this man's chest; to work out all the ways he could be a sinner. To pull him down, because he can. Because he wants to.

Because he can't think of anything else.

Daniel is tense beneath him, watching, waiting. For a moment his gaze slides sideways, snagging on something in the grass less than a foot away, and Hess smiles because he knows exactly what's going on in that angry, clever mind.

“You won't reach them,” he says, low and sweet. “By the time you tried to pick up the first blade, I'd have you weighted down in so many chains that the earth would swallow you whole.”

Daniel sets his jaw. “And if it took me a lifetime to claw my way back up and kill you, I would.”

He means it utterly, and the sincerity of him is thrilling.

This is the only person who can come close to understanding what it is like to stand with a hand on both sides of the scale and weigh destiny. The only one who understands the need for sacrifice; to acknowledge that the old world needs tearing down for a new one to rise.

Blood-soaked and dangerous, and the moment Hess lets him go, he's going to try and tear them both apart.

“Daniel,” he says. Then, “Sweet thing. Angelic fury. Heaven's weapon. Duty and righteousness and honour.”

“Shut up.” The flex of Daniel's fingers, the push back against Hess's grip, and it's nearly enough to unseat him. “Don't you dare –”

He's a killer through and through. Hess can see it, writ deep in the core of his soul. He kills because he has to; because it's right. He protects, and saves, and bleeds for a million souls that will never thank him for it.

And he's perfect.

“I could do so much with you,” Hess says, wondering. “The things we could accomplish.” It's a dream, sweet and tempting. He looks down, sees the slide to silver and smiles.

“But I won't,” he adds. “Because that would ruin you.”

“When I get up,” Daniel says slowly, “I'm going to slit your throat.”

“You're going to try,” Hess says, and hears the terrible adoration in his own voice; the soft fondness he shouldn't have. “But at the moment you're at my mercy.”

He tilts down again; watches the way Daniel tips up a little, without even realising. Sees the way those lips part on a slow, measured inhalation and the dark cut of Daniel's lashes, as for a moment he lets himself be moulded to Hess's will.

What he could do. What he wants to do to this man. It would take decades. Millennia.

“Beg,” he says against the soft, vulnerable skin of Daniel's temple.

Teeth at his ear, and he can feel the slow, careful snarl of those lips. The barely contained rage and want beating through sanctified veins. It makes him shiver.

“Go on,” he adds quietly; a savage demand.

A sharp twist, and he lets one of Daniel's wrists go; feels fingers sink into his hair and pull, twining them closer. The pain of it is a thing of beauty, and he smiles at the way he is going to be pulled apart, one atom at a time, for want of this man.

And Daniel draws back; turns his head a little until they are increments from a kiss, breathing the same air.

“You first,” he says.

[lethesomething]

The ghost and the witch

I am still dealing with the emotional gut punch that is the ending of Ghost of Tsushima, so have a very indulgent… fluff piece? My proofreaders have told me I can’t call it a comfort fic, so let’s go with ‘soft fic with canon levels of angst’ instead.

Tags: Jin Sakai x Reader, fluff, soft, comfort (?), angst, ridiculously poetic descriptions of nature, ludicrous levels of symbolism, so much pining

You scoop the dry green dust into the pouch, carefully checking the weight on a tiny brass scale. With a small wooden spoon, you stir the dust into the clay powder and dried grass already present, checking the contents of the pouch one final time before closing it up and using a few quick stitches to secure it. 

"There." You add the pouch to the pile and hold out the order. "One bag of stomach salts for the Fushikawa boy, and five wound ointments. That should keep you going for a while longer."

The Ghost, sitting in seiza on the opposite side of the table, bows his head as he takes them.

"Thank you."

He looks tired, sweat and mud mixing with caked blood on his brow. You're fairly sure it's not his, but that knowledge does not soothe you as much as you'd like. There are hard lines in that face, drawn by sacrifice and pain, etched in stubbornness and unwavering, never-ending pursuit.

"It would be better if you rested, lord Sakai."

He looks up. His eyes are clear and focused, crisp as the winds blowing up the northern cliffs of the island.

"Please, call me Jin."

"My apologies," you say, "force of habit."

"I don't recall you ever calling me 'lord' when we were young," he grumbles.

"That's because you wanted it too much back then," you grin. "But either way. Jin. Please take a rest. Your body cannot keep this up, no matter how tight your resolve is. You need actual sleep. You can stay the night if you want. You'll be safe here."

His gaze drops down and his brow knots, as if he's thinking over a new concept, something so foreign to him that it leads to confusion. Then he gets up. "The boy."

You're not about to argue. He's the most stubborn man you've ever met. With a sigh you follow him to the door of your house. "Then come back."

His retreating form stops briefly. The wind twirls leaves around his silhouette, outlined against the moss-covered trees. It's late in the afternoon, and light comes down the canopy like droplets, skittering from branch to branch until it falls to the ground in ever smaller pools. Shadows rule here, hiding his face, obscuring even the horse trotting to his hand. "I'll see what I can do," he says, and then he's off.

 ----

 Rain beats like hooves on the roof, mercifully muffled by the thick layers of thatch and greenery that shield your abode from prying eyes. Still, for a short moment your heart stops when you hear the screen door softly slide open, and just as quickly, slide shut. He stands there, slick with rain and glowing faintly orange in the light coming from the fire. "Excuse my interruption," he says.

You shake your head. "Welcome back." Embers fall off a log in the fire, popping and crackling. The rain drums above you. "Have you eaten?"

"A little," he mumbles, too stubborn to admit to hunger, but not composed enough to keep his eyes from wandering over the shelves for supplies you may have.

Movement comes to you in a sudden rush. "Sit down, I have some millet porridge leftover."

"You don't have to-"

You wave away his concern. "And I have water in the hearth, I'll draw you a bath."

"That's really not necessary," he starts saying, but he stops when you turn and raise an eyebrow at him.

"Yes it is."

For a long moment he halts, as if to take stock of the dirt, the sweat, the blood, the horse hair dampened by the rain but not washed away fully. He watches the fire, breathes in the smell of herbs that fills the very air inside this house and looks towards you, bustling over a pot of warm food. He nods. "Alright," he concedes, and gets comfortable on the floor. "Thank you."

 ---

 Steam rises, curling and dancing in intricate patterns toward the rafters. Jin rests his back against bamboo planks and rolls his neck. The tub is just big enough to submerge his lower half in warm, fragrant water. Whatever it is you’ve put in there smells nice. Calming. He takes a cloth and rinses it, before he wipes it on his face and shoulders, rubbing away what feels like years of grime and fatigue.

You’re tending to the fire, your form similar, but somehow more graceful than what it was. Your hair is longer, the skin on your hands rougher, but the years have not taken much else from you. Certainly the bright flame behind those eyes is still present, unrelenting and unyielding in the face of everything. 

You look up. “Did you want me to do your back?”

He blinks. “Uhhh.”

And then you smile, and that hasn’t changed either. Your lips curl up in a way that could be read as polite or mischievous, depending on the outlook. He’s always been fond of it. 

“Please,” he says. 

-- -

You sit on a stool by the bath and knead the heated skin on his shoulders between your fingers, the pads of your thumbs running small circles on his neck. His back is a patchwork of colours, from dark purple bruises to blues and reds and yellows.

You try to avoid the more painful looking blotches while you make your way down, but he does not protest at your touch. He’s silent, save for an occasional sigh and a roll of the neck. 

He’s grown, you notice. There is a dignity and a will to him that he lacked when he was younger. You’re well aware of what he’s doing, the lives he chooses to take, and those he chooses to save. You know of the enemies he’s made. Part of you is very proud of him. Another fears for his wellbeing at every turn. The path he’s chosen is not an easy one to walk. 

“How long has it been since you last washed your hair,” you ask into the silence that sits on top of the rumbles of fire and the splash of water. 

“I’m not letting you do that,” he says lowly. 

“Can I at least pick out the leaves?”

He chuckles. “If that’s what you want.” He leans back against the side of the tub and lets his head fall towards your knees. “Next you’ll ask me if you can shave me as well.”

“Would you let me,” you say, tugging at the cord that holds his bun together. 

He grins. “I just might.”

He closes his eyes and a curtain of black falls across your lap. You take a silver comb, one of your few treasures, and start gently tugging at the knots, unraveling the work of the sea and the wind. 

--- 

Jin leans back and closes his eyes. Your comb runs across his scalp in languid, repeating motions, like waves lapping at a beach. He times his breathing to their rhythm and sits there, relishing in the soft intimacy of your hands. 

There is comfort in the motions of your fingers running across his head. The smell of camellia’s is faint but nostalgic as you comb out the strands and oil them. It’s been a long time since he felt this warm, this content.

“Can I ask you something,” he says. 

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you leave?”

Your hands pause for a  second, but do not falter. Your fingers continue their gentle motion,  starting at the scalp and gliding down to part the hair, followed by the comb. 

“I suppose they never told you.” He feels a weight to those words, but can’t quite make it out. 

“I have always wondered,” he says. “I didn’t really understand what happened. One day you were just gone.”

“Jin.”

The weight shifts. There is a pause, a silence in which your fingers keep moving and steam fills the void between the two of you. The rain outside has stopped, he notices, and then you take a breath. 

“We were close,” you say. “Close enough for people to notice.” Your voice gains a raspy edge, as if it is difficult to speak. “I was not good enough. Not for you.”

“That’s-”

But you continue before he can form the sentence. “It was decided that it would be best that I move north, so as not to needlessly distract you from your studies.”

He swallows. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know.”

“That was, perhaps, for the best,” you say softly, and your fingers start gathering his hair. “You were not in a position to do anything about it.” You collect the strands in the palm of one hand, smoothing up any stragglers with the other. 

“The last I heard was that you were to marry one of clan Terushima’s retainers, but you didn’t.”

“I did not,” you hum behind him, as you coil his hair and tie it with a thin piece of string. “I’m sure he was nice enough, but I was never going to be some random man’s wife. I decided on a different path.”

You tap his shoulder and Jin sits up, takes in the herbs drying from the ceiling, the shelves of jars and powders. The pebbles, the statues, the trinkets. “You did,” he says, and he watches as you wipe down the comb and carefully fold it in embroidered silk, a piece of an old kimono he vaguely remembers, and store it in a box on the shelves. 

“Do you regret it?” he asks. 

You shake your head and carefully put away the oil. You rinse your hands in a bowl of water and dry them thoroughly. You set your shoulders before turning to him. “No path is easy to walk, Jin. Especially if you follow what you feel is right,” you say, finally. “Some roads are smoother than others, but we all crash into the walls and thorns confining us eventually. Whether you pull back from the edge or push through is up to you. We all do what we must.”

“We do,” Jin says quietly. His eyes feel heavy now. The fragrant water hanging thick in the air seems to call out, beckoning his senses deeper into the mist. When he looks up again, you are standing by his side, a towel in your hands. 

“And you must really rest, so get out of there while I pick up some more firewood in the shed.”

--- 

The birdsong of early morning filters through the blankets of vegetation that swaddle your house. The light will take a little longer to get here, traveling all the way from the top of the forest canopy like honey oozing off a spoon. 

You get up from a nest of fabric and straighten your clothes, combing your hair with a wooden pick before tying it back.

The Ghost lies on a mat in the corner, chest slowly rising and falling.

You poke the dying embers in the fire, sparking them back to life. There are many things to do: clothes to darn, balms to brew, but for now you are content to sit here and listen to soft breaths as you watch the sparks rekindle, adding branches to a fire that is sure to burn you if you continue to let it grow.

---

Jin Sakai adjusts the strap of his glove, tightening it. There is a dull ache in his chest that he didn’t notice before today. It has come to the foreground now that many of his other stings and pains have found relief. 

His breath is deeper, his head is clear. The deep, gnawing exhaustion that turned his every movement into a deliberate act, a decision to go on despite the waves crashing down, is shallow now. It tugs at his feet like mud, enough to annoy, but not to trip him, certainly not enough to stop him.  

You’re leaning against the door style, arms folded. Your lips are curled, smiling, but your eyes are not. 

He sighs. The sun dapples you with blossoms of light, crowns you in golden glory. Slowly, his hand reaches up, fingers tracing the line of your jaw. 

You blink rapidly up at him. “Jin?”

A sudden gust of wind whirls around you, tugging pieces of thatch off the roof and blowing strands of hair into your face, obscuring your vision.

He leans in and softly, briefly, places his lips on your forehead. “Thank you,” he whispers. “For everything.”

[michaelbogild]

Lines by Bruce Springsteen

Shithole on the corner, no light, no sign Nobody on the street except the deaf, dumb, and blind

Now your death is upon us, and we'll return your ashes to the earth And I know you'll take comfort in knowing you've been roundly blessed and cursed

Some girls, they want a handsome Dan Or some good-lookin' Joe on their arm Some girls like a sweet-talkin' Romeo Well, 'round here, baby I learned you get what you can get So if you're rough enough for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

Can't see nothing in front of me Can't see nothing coming up behind Make my way through this darkness I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me Lost track of how far I've gone How far I've gone, how high I've climbed On my back's a sixty pound stone On my shoulder, a half-mile line

A mother prays, "Sleep tight, my child, sleep well For I'll be at your side That no shadow, no darkness, no tolling bell Shall pierce your dreams this night"

Tonight we'll sing the songs I'll dream of you, my corazón And tomorrow my heart will be strong And may the saints blessing and grace Carry me safely into your arms There, across the border

We are alive And though our bodies lie alone here in the dark Our spirits rise To carry the fire and light the spark To stand shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart

The condition you're in Now you just can't get out of this skin

The hurricane blows, brings a hard rain When the blue sky breaks, it feels like the world's gonna change We'll start caring for each other like Jesus said that we might I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

You shot through my anger and rage To show me my prison was just an open cage There were no keys no guards Just one frightened man and some old shadows for bars

You gave your love to see In fields of red and autumn brown You gave your love to me And lay your young body down

If the angels are unkind or the season is dark Or if in the end Love just falls apart Then here's to our destruction Baby let me be your soul driver

I know we're different you and me Got a different way of walking The time has come to let the past be history Yeah, if we could just start talking

I chased the heat of her blood Like it was the holy grail Descend beautiful spirit Into the evening pale Her appaloosa's Kicking in the corral smelling rain There's a low thunder rolling Across the mesquite plain

The dust of civilizations and love's sweet remains Slip off of your fingers and come drifting down like rain The pages of Revelation lie open in your empty eyes of blue I watch you slip that comb through your hair and this, I promise you, I'll work for your love, dear

Tend to your flock or they will stray We'll be called for our service come judgment day Before we cross that river wide The blood on our hands will come back on us twice

Bird on a wire outside my motel room But he ain't singing Girl in white outside a church in June But the church bells ain't ringing I'm sitting here in this bar tonight But all I'm thinking Is I'm the same old story, same old act One step up and two steps back

Goodbye, my darling For your love, I give God thanks, Meet me on the Matamoros banks

Trees on fire with the first fall's frost Long black line in front of Holy Cross Blood moon rising in a sky of black dust Tell me baby, who do you trust?

He saw the watcher at the city gates Jonah in the belly of a whale He watched you walk your ragged mile His mercy it did not fail

I got somethin' in my heart, I been waitin' to give I got a life I wanna start, one I been waitin' to live No more waitin', tonight I feel the light I say the prayer I open the door, I climb the stairs

Yeah funny, I thought I felt a sweet summer breeze Must have been you sighing so deep, Don't worry, we're going to find a way

So you been broken and you been hurt Show me somebody who ain't Yeah I know I ain't nobody's bargain But hell a little touchup And a little paint

Tires on the highway hissing that something's coming You can feel the wires in the tree tops humming Devil's on the horizon line Your kiss and I'm alive

Mister trouble come walkin' this way Year gone past feels like one long day But I'm alive and I'm feelin' all right Well I run that hard road outta hearbreak city Built a roadside carnival out of hurt and self-pity It was all wrong well now I'm movin' on

Band's counting out midnight Floor's rumbling loud Singer's calling up daylight And waiting for that shout from the crowd

Remember the morning we dug up your gun The worms in the barrel, the hanging sun Those first nervous evenings of perfume and gin The lost smell on your breath as I helped you get it in The rush of your lips, the feel of your name The beat in your heart, the devil's arcade

You're looking for the key of that box you locked yourself in

I hold my breath and close my eyes And I wait for paradise

The road is dark And it's a thin thin line But I want you to know I'll walk it for you any time Maybe your other boyfriends Couldn't pass the test Well, if you're rough and ready for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

Well now on a summer night in a dusky room Come a little piece of the Lord's undying light Crying like he swallowed the fiery moon In his mother's arms it was all the beauty I could take Like the missing words to some prayer that I could never make In a world so hard and dirty so fouled and confused Searching for a little bit of God's mercy I found living proof

Now it's some old Stones' song the band is trashin' But if you feel like dancin', baby, I'm askin'

I got seven pictures of Buddha The prophet's on my tongue Eleven angels of mercy Sighing over that black hole in the sun My heart's dark but it's rising I'm pulling all the faith I can see From that black hole on the horizon I hear your voice calling me

So tell me what I see when I look in your eyes Is that you baby or just a brilliant disguise

I wanna build me a house, on higher ground I wanna find me a world, where love's the only sound High above this road, filled with shadow and doubt I want to shoulder my load, and figure it all out With Leah

But love and duty called you some place higher Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

Hard times, baby well they come to us all Sure as the ticking of the clock on the wall Sure as the turning of the night into day Your smile girl, brings the morning light to my eyes Lifts away the blues when I rise I hope that you're coming to stay

I heard somebody call your name from underneath our willow I saw something tucked in shame underneath your pillow Well I've tried so hard baby but I just can't see What a woman like you is doing with me

Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true But you and I know what this world can do So let's make our steps clear that the other may see And I'll wait for you If I should fall behind Wait for me

Now I was young and pretty on the mean streets of the city And I fought to make 'em my home With just the shirt on my back I left and swore I'd never look back And man I was gone gone gone But there's things that'll knock you down you don't even see coming And send you crawling like a baby back home You're gonna find out that day, sugar

She sits on the porch of her daddy's house Oh but honey your pretty dress is torn She stared off alone into the night With the eyes of one who hates for just being born

Well here's to your good looks baby now here's to my health Here's to the loaded places that we take ourselves When it comes to luck you make your own Tonight I got to dirt on my hands but I'm building me a new home

My father said, "Son, we're lucky in this town It's a beautiful place to be born It just wraps its arms around you Nobody crowds you, and nobody goes it alone"

In the darkness my fingers slip across your skin I feel your sweet reply The room fades away and suddenly I'm way up high Just holdin' you to me As through the window the moonlight streams Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

Well it's never too late so come on girl The tables are waiting You and me and lady luck well tonight We'll be celebrating Drinkin' champagne on ice In just another roll of the dice

Same old faces it's the same old town What once was laughs is draggin' me now Waitin' on rain hangin' on for love Words of forgiveness from some God above Ain't no words of mercy comin' from on high Oh no just a long goodbye

We've given each other some hard lessons lately We ain't learning We're the same sad story, that's a fact One step up and two steps back

Taj Mahal, the pyramids of Egypt are unique, I suppose But when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

I need you to chase these blues away Without you, I'm a drummer girl that can't keep a beat, Ice cream truck on a deserted street

Good times got a way of slipping away

It's the same thing night on night Who's wrong baby who's right Another fight and I slam the door On another battle in our dirty little war

Is dry lightning on the horizon line Just dry lightning and you on my mind

The day rips apart A dark and bloody arrow pierced my heart

There's a cross up yonder on Calvary Hill There's a slip of blood on a silver knife There's a graveyard kid down below Where at night the dead come to life

My soul went walkin' but I stayed here Feel like I been workin' for a thousand years Chippin' away at this chain of my own lies Climbin' a wall a hundred miles high Well I woke up this morning on the other side Yeah yeah this is the long goodbye

Now sometimes tomorrow comes soaked in treasure and blood Here we stood the drought, now we'll stand the flood There's a new world coming, I can see the light I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

I'm trudging through the dark in a world gone wrong I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

Now, when all this steel and these stories Drift away to rust And all our youth and beauty Has been given to the dust When the game has been decided And we're burnin' down the clock And all our little victories and glories Have turned into parking lots

The rain it keeps on falling on twisted bones and dirt I'm buried to my heart here in this hurt

These are better days baby Yeah there's better days shining through These are better days baby Better days with a girl like you

Now I ply my trade in the land of king dollar Where you get paid and your silence passes as honor And all the hatred and dirty little lies Been written off the books and into decent men's eyes

Well, darling if you're weary Lay your head upon my chest We'll take what we can carry Yeah, and we'll leave the rest

Give me help, give me strength Give a soul a night of fearless sleep Give me love, give me peace Don't you know these days you pay for everything

Where're the eyes, the eyes with the will to see Where're the hearts that run over with mercy Where's the love that has not forsaken me Where's the work that set my hands, my soul free Where's the spirit that'll reign, reign over me Where's the promise from sea to the shining sea

Been on a barbed wire highway 40 days and nights I ain't complaining, it's my job and it suits me right I got a sweet soft fever rushing around my head I'm gonna sleep tonight in Maria's bed

Baby, once I thought I knew Everything I needed to know about you Your sweet whisper, your tender touch I didn't really know that much Joke's on me, but it's going to be okay If I can just get through this lonesome day

Ain't no mercy on the streets of this town Ain't no bread from heavenly skies Ain't nobody drawin' wine from this blood It's just you and me tonight

I knew some day your running would be through and you'd think back on me and you And your love would be strong You'd forget all about the bad and think only of all the laughs that we had And you'd wanna come home Well, now it ain't hard feelings or nothing, sugar That ain't what's got me singing this song It's just nobody knows baby where love goes But when it goes it's gone gone

Dark and bloody autumn pierces my heart The memory of your kiss tears me apart The sky above is turning, the world below's gone gray I thought that I could turn and walk away

Einstein and Shakespeare Sitting having a beer Einstein trying to figure out the number that adds up to this Shakespeare said, "Man it all starts with a kiss" Einstein is scratching Numbers on his napkin Shakespeare said, "Man, it's just one and one make three Ah, that's why it's poetry"

Your sweet memory comes on the evening wind I sleep and dream of holding you in my arms again The lights of Brownsville across the river shine A shout rings out, into the silty red river, I dive

Seven days, seven candles In my window, light your way Your favorite record's on the turntable I drop the needle and pray

Well, the piss yellow sun Comes bringing up the day She said "Ain't nobody can give nobody What they really need anyway"

Your voice comes calling through the mist I awake from a dream and my heart begins to drift

I'll hammer the nails and I'll set the stone I'll harvest your crops when they're ripe and grown I'll pull that engine apart and patch her up 'til she's running right I'm a Jack of all trades, we'll be alright

I want a thousand guitars I want pounding drums I want a million different voices speaking in tongues

Out where the sky's been cleared by a good hard rain There's somebody callin' my secret name

Blood on the streets Yeah, blood flowing down I hear the blood of my blood Crying from the ground

Well, it ought to be easy, it ought to be simple enough Yeah, man meets woman and they fall in love But this house is haunted and the ride gets rough You've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above If you want to ride on down, down in through this tunnel of love

You said, "Heroes are needed, so heroes get made" Somebody made a bet, somebody paid The cool desert morning and nothing to save Just metal and plastic where your body caved

Well I took a piss at fortune's sweet kiss It's like eatin' caviar and dirt It's sad funny ending to find yourself pretending A rich man in a poor man's shirt

In the late afternoon sun fills the room with a mist in the garden before the fall I watch your hands smooth the front of your blouse and seven drops of blood fall

I'm standing in the backyard Listening to the party inside Tonight I'm drinkin' in the forgiveness This life provides

We've got no fairytale ending In God's hands our fate is complete Your heaven's here in my heart Our love's this dust beneath my feet

Billy felt a coldness rise up inside him that he couldn't name Just as the words tattooed 'cross his knuckles he knew would always remain At their bedside, he brushed the hair from his wife's face as the moon shone on her skin so white Filling their room in the beauty of God's fallen light

Now Tom said, "Mom, wherever there's a cop beating a guy Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries Where there's a fight against the blood and hatred in the air Look for me, Mom, I'll be there

Well tonight I just wanna shout I feel my soul waist deep and sinking Into this black river of doubt I just wanna rise and walk along the riverside And when the morning comes baby I don't wanna hide I'll stand right at your side with my arms open wide

Hands me two tickets, smiles and whispers good luck Well cuddle up angel, cuddle up my little dove We'll ride down baby into this tunnel of love

Everything is everything But you're missing

Where the distant oceans sing and rise to the plains In this dry and troubled country, your beauty remains Down from the mountain roads where the highway rolls to dark Beneath Allah's blessed rain, we remain worlds apart

The moon is high and here I am Sittin' here with this hammer in hand One more drink oughta ease the pain Starin' at that last link in the chain Well let's raise our glass and let the hammer fly Hey yeah this is the long goodbye

Baby let's get our bags packed We'll take it here to hell and heaven and back And if love is hopeless hopeless at best Come on put on your party dress it's ours tonight And we're going with the tumblin' dice

I got a cold mind to go tripping across that thin line I'm sick of doing straight time

There's a girl across the bar I get the message she's sending Hmm she ain't looking too married Me well honey I'm pretending Last night I dreamed I held you in my arms The music was never ending We danced as the evening sky faded to black One step up and two steps back

Well the highway is alive tonight But nobody's kidding nobody about where it goes I'm sitting down here in the campfire light Searching for the ghost of Tom Joad

I got my finger on the trigger But I don't know who to trust When I look into your eyes There's just devils and dust

Well now his kisses may thrill Those other girls that he likes But when it comes to treatin' A real woman right Well all of his tricks No they won't be enough 'Cause lovin' you baby lovin' you woman Lovin' you darlin' is a man's man's job

There was a woman waiting at the well Drawing water beneath a desert sky of blue She said "He'll heal the blind, raise the dead Cure the sickness out of you"

I been knocking on the door that holds the throne I been looking for the map that leads me home I been stumbling on good hearts turned to stone The road of good intentions has gone dry as a bone

Wherever somebody's fighting for a place to stand Or a decent job or a helping hand Wherever somebody's struggling to be free Look in their eyes, Ma, and you'll see me"

Tell me in a world without pity Do you think what I'm askin's too much? I just want something to hold on to And a little of that human touch

Tell me someone, what's the price I want to buy some time and maybe live my life I want to have a wife, I want to have some kids I want to look in their eyes and know they'll stand a chance

Well, your desires for your sweet confusion I'll walk away then, I don't buy your delusions

She gave me candy stick kisses 'neath a wolf-dog moon One sweet breath and she'll take you, mister, to the upper room I was burned by the angels, sold wings of lead Then I fell in the roses and sweet salvation of Maria's bed

It's a fairytale so tragic There's no prince to break the spell I don't believe in magic But for you, I will

Now a life of leisure and a pirate's treasure Don't make much for tragedy But it's a sad man my friend who's livin' in his own skin And can't stand the company. Every fool's got a reason for feelin' sorry for himself And turning his heart to stone Tonight this fool's halfway to heaven and just a mile outta hell And I feel like I'm comin' home

Is it the sound of the leaves left blown by the wayside That's got me out here on this spooky old highway tonight Is it the cry of the river with the moonlight shining through That ain't what scares me baby, what scares me is losing you

Darlin' give me your kiss Come and take my hand I am the nothing man

Now there's a loss that can never be replaced A destination that can never be reached A light you'll never find in another's face A sea whose distance cannot be breached

They destroyed our families, factories And they took our homes They left our bodies on the plains The vultures picked our bones

Like a thief on Sunday morning It all falls apart with no warning

I got the fortunes of heaven in diamonds and gold I got all the bonds baby that the bank could hold I got houses 'cross the country honey end to end And everybody buddy wants to be my friend Well I got all the riches baby any man ever knew But the only thing I ain't got, honey, I ain't got you

Gray morning light spits through the shade Another day older, closer to the grave Closer to the grave and come the dawn I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

Now you play the loving woman, I'll play the faithful man But just don't look too close into the palm of my hand Well we stood at the alter, the gypsy swore our future was right But come the wee wee hours maybe baby the gypsy lied

You walk real pretty and you talk real fine But night after night babe I'm on the line

I'm counting on a miracle

Dancing down a dark hole Just searching for a world with some soul

Gambling man rolls the dice, workingman pays the bill It's still fat and easy up on banker's hill Up on banker's hill, the party's going strong Down here below we're shackled and drawn

Well, Jesus kissed his mother's hands Whispered, "Mother, still your tears For remember the soul of the universe Willed a world and it appeared

Come to the door, Ma, and unlock the chain I was just passing through and got caught in the rain There's nothing that I want, nothing that you need say Just let me lie down for a while and I'll be on my way

Your world keeps turning round and round But everything is upside down Your own worst enemy has come to town

Shackled and drawn, shackled and drawn Pick up the rock son, carry it on What's a poor boy to do in a world gone wrong? I woke up this morning shackled and drawn

And though my heart's grown weary And more than a little bit shy Tonight I'll drink from her waters to quench my thirst And leave the angels to worry With every wish

Rode through forty nights of the gospels' rain Black sky pourin' snakes frogs And love in vain You were down where the river grows wider Baby let me be your soul driver

Don't worry, darling No baby, don't you fret We're living in the future And none of this has happened yet

There's a lot of talk going around you Let them talk, you know you're the only one There's a lot of walls need tearing down Together we could take them down one by one

I could smell the same deep green of summer Above me the same night sky was glowing In the distance I could see the town where I was born

Oh feelin' like a real man I ain't no fighter that's easy to see And as a lover I ain't goin' down in history But when the lights go down and you pull me close Well I look in your eyes and there's one thing I know Baby I'll be tough enough If I can find the guts to give you all my love Then I'll be feelin' like a real man

I hold you in my arms as the band plays What are those words whispered baby just as you turn away I saw you last night out on the edge of town I wanna read your mind to know just what I've got in this new thing I've found

Maybe I'm just a clown throwin' down Lookin' to come up busted I'm a thief in the house of love And I can't be trusted Well I'll be makin' my heist In just another roll of the dice

Now I see your pieces crumbled, and our book of faith's been tossed And I'm just down here searching for my own piece of the cross

Pockets full of dust, my mouth filled with cool stone The pale moon opens the earth to its bones

raise your hand And together we'll walk into Canaan land

On the plains of Jordan I cut my bow from the wood Of this tree of evil Of this tree of good

Well my soul checked out missing as I sat listening To the hours and minutes tickin' away Yeah just sittin' around waitin' for my life to begin While it was all just slippin' away I'm tired of waitin' for tomorrow to come Or that train to come roarin' 'round the bend I got a new suit of clothes a pretty red rose And a woman I can call my friend

From a house on a hill a sacred light shines I walk through these rooms but none of them are mine Down empty hallways I went from door to door Searching for my beautiful reward

A little sweet talk to cover over all of the lies You came runnin' back but to my surprise Well there was somethin' gone in Gloria's eyes

Last night I stood at your doorstep Tryna figure out what went wrong You just slipped something into my palm, and you were gone

I sink beneath the river cool and clear Drifting down, I disappear I see you on the other side I search for the peace in your eyes

I had some victory that was just failure in deceit Now the joke's comin' up through the soles of my feet I been a long time walking on fortune's cane Tonight I'm sleepin' lightly and feelin' no pain

Better ask questions before you shoot Deceit and betrayal's a bitter fruit It's hard to swallow, come time to pay That taste on your tongue don't easily slip away Thy kingdom come, I'm going to find my way Yeah, through this lonesome day

Well there in the high trees love's bluebird glides Guiding us 'cross to another river on the other side And there someone is waitin' with a look in her eyes

Oh girl that feeling of safety you prize Well it comes with a hard hard price You can't shut off the risk and pain Without losin' the love that remains We're all riders on this train

I walk this road, with a hammer and a fiery lantern With this hand I've built, and with this I've burned I wanna live in the same house, beneath the same roof Sleep in the same bed, search for the same proof As Leah

I built a shrine in my heart it wasn't pretty to see Made out of fool's gold memory and tears cried Now I'm heading over the rise I'm searching for one clear moment of love and truth I still got a little faith But what I need is some proof tonight I'm lookin' for it in your eyes

I been out in the desert, yeah, doing my time Sifting through the dust for fool's gold, looking for a sign Holy man said "Hold on, brother, there's a light up ahead" Ain't nothing like a light that shines on me in Maria's bed

They say if you die in your dreams, you really die in your bed But honey last night I dreamed my eyes rolled straight back in my head And God's light came shinin' on through I woke up in the darkness scared and breathin' and born anew It wasn't the cold river bottom I felt rushing over me It wasn't the bitterness of a dream that didn't come true It wasn't the wind in the grey fields I felt rushing through my arms No no baby, baby it was you

Now if you're lookin' for a hero Someone to save the day Well darlin' my feet They're made of clay But I've got somethin' in my soul And I wanna give it up But gettin' up the nerve Gettin' up the nerve Gettin' up the nerve is a man's man's job

If the sun should fall from the sky tomorrow If the rain brings the tears to your eye, I would share your sorrow

I've stumbled and I know I made my mistakes But tonight I'm gonna be playin' for all of the stakes

Well, no cannonball did fly, no rifles cut us down No bombs fell from the sky, no blood soaked the ground No powder flash blinded the eye No deathly thunder sounded But just as sure as the hand of God They brought death to my hometown

With these hands We pray for the strength, Lord

On the road to Basra stood young Lieutenant Jimmy Bly Detailed to go through the clothes of the soldiers who died At night in dreams he sees their souls rise Like dark geese into the Oklahoma skies

Well your hair shone in the sun I was so high I was the lucky one Then I came crashing down like a drunk on a barroom floor Searching for my beautiful reward

I'll mow your lawn, clean the leaves out your drain I'll mend your roof to keep out the rain I'll take the work that God provides I'm a Jack of all trades, honey, we'll be alright

Past the playgrounds and empty switching yards The turtles eat the skin from your eyes, so they lay open to the stars

Me and my girl Saturday night Late movie on channel five The girls were droppin' they're droppin' like flies To some smooth talkin' cool walkin' private eye I ain't got no nerves of steel But all I got to know is if your love is real

Sleeping beauty awakes from her dream With her lover's kiss on her lips Your kiss was taken from me Now all I have is this

I put my heart and soul I put 'em high upon a shelf Right next to the faith the faith that I'd lost in myself I went down into the desert city Just tryin' so hard to shed my skin I crawled deep into some kind of darkness Lookin' to burn out every trace of who I'd been You do some sad sad things baby When it's you you're tryin' to lose You do some sad and hurtful things I've seen living proof

It was dark, too dark to see You held me in the light you gave You lay your hand on me Then walked into the darkness of your smoky grave

My life's the same story Again and again I' m on the outside looking in

My ship Liberty sailed away On a bloody red horizon The groundskeeper opened the gates And let the wild dogs run

Now you were the Red Sea I was Moses I kissed you and slipped into a bed of roses The waters parted and love rushed inside I was Jesus' son sanctified

Now the sweet bells of mercy Drift through the evening trees Young men on the corner Like scattered leaves

Around here everybody acts the same Around here everybody acts like nothing's changed

Oh there's somethin' in your soul That he's gonna rob And lovin' you baby lovin' you darlin' Lovin' you woman is a man's man's job

Well now all that's sure on the boulevard Is that life is just a house of cards As fragile as each and every breath Of this boy sleepin' in our bed

He pulls a prayer book out of his sleeping bag Preacher lights up a butt and he takes a drag Waiting for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last In a cardboard box 'neath the underpass

Now the world is filled with many wonders under the passing sun And sometimes something comes along, and you know it's for sure the only one The Mona Lisa, the David, the Sistine Chapel, Jesus, Mary, and Joe And when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

You said my act was funny but we both knew what was missing, honey

Tonight I can feel the cold wind at my back I'm flying high over gray fields my feathers long and black Down along the river's silent edge I soar Searching for my beautiful reward

Now get yourself a song to sing and sing it till you're done Sing it hard and sing it well Send the robber barons straight to hell

I'm just a lonely pilgrim, I walk this world in wealth I want to know if it's you I don't trust 'cause I damn sure don't trust myself

This is radio nowhere Is there anybody alive out there?

All over the world the rain was pourin' I was scratchin' where it itched Oh heartbreak and despair got nothing but boring So I grabbed you baby like a wild pitch

Tonight our bed is cold, I'm lost in the darkness of our love God have mercy on the man who doubts what he's sure of

Well I've been a losin' gambler Just throwin' snake eyes Love ain't got me downhearted I know up around the corner lies My fool's paradise In just another roll of the dice

The Virginia hills have gone to brown Another day, another sun going down I visit you in another dream

When they built you, brother, they turned dust into gold When they built you, brother, they broke the mold

It's coming on closing time Bartender, he's ringin' last call These days I don't stand on pride I ain't afraid to take a fall

They say you can't take it with you, but I think that they're wrong Because all I know is I woke up this morning, and something big was gone Gone into that dark ether where you're still young and hard and cold Just like when they built you, brother, they broke the mold

You'll be fine long as your pretty face holds out Then it's going to get pretty cold out

You and me we were the pretenders We let it all slip away In the end what you don't surrender Well the world just strips away

So when you look at me you better look hard and look twice Is that me baby or just a brilliant disguise

You can't sleep at night You can't dream your dream Your fingerprints on file Left clumsily at the scene

On his right hand, Billy'd tattooed the word "love", on his left hand was the word "fear" And in which hand he held his fate was never clear Come Indian summer, he took his young lover for his bride And with his own hands built her a great house down by the riverside

We've got God on our side We're just trying to survive What if what you do to survive Kills the things you love

Now my ass was draggin' when from a passin' gypsy wagon Your heart like a diamond shone Tonight I'm layin' in your arms carvin' lucky charms Out of these hard luck bones

It'll take your God-filled soul Fill it with devils and dust

I'm driving a big lazy car rushin' up the highway in the dark I got one hand steady on the wheel and one hand's tremblin' over my heart It's pounding baby like it's gonna bust right on through And it ain't gonna stop till I'm alone again with you

For all the blown-off strangers and hot rod angels Stumbling through this promised land Tonight my baby and me we're gonna ride to the sea And wash these sins off our hands

But they're as empty as paradise

Quiet afternoon in the empty house On the edge of the bed, you slip off your blouse The room is burning with the noon sun Your bittersweet taste on my tongue

Well now our old fears and failures, oh baby, they do linger Like the shadow of that ring that was on your finger

Well by Our Lady Of The Roses we lived in the shadow of the elms I remember ma dragging me and my sister up the street to the church whenever she heard those wedding bells Well would they ever look so happy again yeah the handsome groom and his bride As they stepped into that long black limousine for their mystery ride Well tonight you step away from me and alone at the alter I stand As I watch my bride coming down the aisle I pray for the strength to walk like a man

You got a one-way ticket to the promised land You got a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand Sleeping on a pillow of solid rock Bathing in the city's aqueduct

You might need somethin' to hold on to When all the answers they don't amount to much Somebody that you can just talk to And a little of that human touch

Easy street, a quick buck, and true lies Smiles as thin as those dusky blue skies

I'm running through the forest With this wolf at my heels My king is lost at midnight When the tower bells peal

Forty-one shots and we'll take that ride Across the bloody river to the other side Forty-one shots cut through the night You're kneeling over his body in the vestibule Praying for his life

Let your mind rest easy Sleep well my friend It's only our bodies that betray us in the end

Well now the years have gone and I've grown yeah from that seed you've sown But I didn't think there'd been so many steps I'd have to learn on my own Well I was young and I didn't know what to do when I saw your best steps stolen away from you Now I'll do what I can, I'll walk like a man And I'll keep on walking

I got a house full of Rembrandt and priceless art And all the little girls, they wanna tear me apart When I walk down the street, people stop and stare Well, you'd think I might be thrilled but baby I don't care 'Cause I got more good luck honey than old King Farouk But the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you

Coming from the city, coming from the wild I see a breathless army breaking like a cloud They're going to smother love, they're going to shoot your hopes Before the meek inherit they'll learn to hate themselves

Got on a dead man's suit and a smiling skull ring Lucky graveyard boots and a song to sing I keep my heart in my work, my troubles in my head And I keep my soul in Maria's bed

"Every cloud has a silver lining, every dog has his day" She said "Now don't say nothing If you don't have something nice to say

Now Billy was an honest man, he wanted to do what was right He worked hard to fill their lives with happy days and loving night Alone on his knees in the darkness for steadiness he'd pray For he knew in a restless heart the seed of betrayal lay

Whose blood will spill, whose heart will break Who'll be the last to die for a mistake

Well I awoke last night in the dark and dreamy deep From my head to my feet my body's gone stone cold There were worms crawling all around me My fingers scratching at an earth black and six foot low Alone in the blackness of my grave Alone I'd been left to die Then I heard voices calling all around me The earth rose above me My eyes filled with sky

Plastics, wire and your kiss The breath of eternity on your lips

For a while you'll go sparkling by Just another pretty thing on high

Don't know when this chance might come again Good times got a way of coming to an end

I search for you on the other side Where the river runs clean and wide Up to my heart, the waters rise

Hell's brewing, dark sun's on the rise This storm will blow through, by and by House is on fire, vipers in the grass Little revenge and this too shall pass This too shall pass, darling, yeah I'm going to pray Right now, all I got is this lonesome day

I love to see your hair shining In the long summer's light I love to watch the stars fill the sky On a summer night The music plays you take his hand I watch how you touch him as you start to dance And I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

Rising from a long night as dark as the grave On a thin chain of next moments and something like faith

Ain't no church bells ringing Ain't no flags unfurled Just me and you and the love we're bringing Into the real world

A silver plate of pearls, my golden child It's all yours, at least for a little while

I got a picture of you in my locket I keep it close to my heart This light shining in my breast Leading me through the dark

The times, they got too clear So you removed all the mirrors Once the family felt secure Now no one's very sure

I've got my finger on the trigger And tonight faith just ain't enough When I look inside my heart There's just devils and dust

I feel my soul waist deep and sinking Into this black river of doubt

Where the road is dark and the seed is sowed Where the gun is cocked and the bullet's cold Where the miles are marked in blood and gold I'll meet you further on up the road

In the garden at Gethsemane He prayed for the life he'd never live He beseeched his Heavenly Father to remove The cup of death from his lips

I love to see the cottonwood blossom In the early spring I love to see the message of love That the bluebird brings But when I see you walkin' with him Down along the strand I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

I hold you in my arms, yeah that's when it starts I seek faith in your kiss and comfort in your heart Taste the seed upon your lips, lay my tongue upon your scars When I look into your eyes and we stand worlds apart

Now's there's tears on the pillow, darling, where we slept And you took my heart when you left Without your sweet kiss my soul is lost, my friend Tell me how do I begin again?

May your strength give us strength May your faith give us faith May your hope give us hope May your love give us love

We took the highway till the road went black We marked 'Truth Or Consequences' on our map

We'll let blood build a bridge over mountains draped in stars I'll meet you on the ridge between these worlds apart We've got this moment now to live, then it's all just dust and dark Let's let love give what it gives

Now no one knows which way love's wheel turns Will we hit it rich Or crash and burn Does fortune wait or just the black hand of fate This love potion's all we've got One toast before it's too late

And the things of the earth, they make their claim That the things of heaven may do the same

God's drifting in heaven, devil's in the mailbox I got dust on my shoes, nothing but teardrops

I got a pound of caviar sitting home on ice I got a fancy foreign car that rides like paradise I got a hundred pretty women knockin' down my door And folks wanna kiss me I ain't even seen before I been around the world and all across the seven seas Been paid a king's ransom for doin' what comes naturally But I'm still the biggest fool, honey, this world ever knew 'Cause the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you

But love is a power greater than death, just like the songs and stories told And when she built you, brother, she broke the mold

Well, big wheels roll through fields where sunlight streams Meet me in a land of hope and dreams

Alone I limp through town A lost cowboy at sundown Got my monkey on a leash Got my ear tuned to the ground My faith's been torn asunder Tell me is that rolling thunder Or just the sinking sound Of something righteous going under

Men walking 'long the railroad tracks Going someplace, there's no going back Highway patrol choppers coming up over the ridge Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge Shelter line stretching 'round the corner Welcome to the new world order Families sleeping in the cars in the southwest No home, no job, no peace, no rest

Sometimes the truth just ain't enough Or is it too much in times like this Let's throw the truth away, we'll find it in this kiss In your skin upon my skin in the beating of our hearts May the living let us in before the dead tear us apart

So hold me close honey, say you're forever mine And tell me you'll be my lonely valentine

There's spirits above and behind me Faces gone black, eyes burning bright May their precious blood bind me Lord, as I stand before your fiery light

Girl ain't no kindness in the face of strangers Ain't gonna find no miracles here Well you can wait on your blessings darlin' But I got a deal for you right here

Familiar faces around me Laughter fills the air Your loving grace surrounds me Everybody's here Furniture's out on the front porch Music's up loud I dream of you in my arms I lose myself in the crowd

Woke up election day Sky's gunpowder and shades of grey Beneath the dirty sun I whistle my time away Then just about sundown You come walking through town Your boot heels clicking like The barrel of a pistol spinning round

Well, it ain't no secret I've been around a time or two Well, I don't know baby maybe you've been around too Well, there's another dance All you gotta do is say yes And if you're rough and ready for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

The fuse is burning Shut out the lights The fuse is burning Come on let me do you right

When I look at myself I don't see The man I wanted to be Somewhere 'long the line I slipped off track I'm caught moving one step up and two steps back

Days just keep on falling Your voice it keeps on calling I'm going to dig right here until I get you back

I was driving through the misty rain Just a-searching for a mystery train Bopping through the wild blue Trying to make a connection with you

It's been a long long drought baby Tonight the rain's pourin' down on our roof Looking for a little bit of God's mercy I found living proof

I always loved the feel of sweat on my shirt Stand back son and let a man work

Well, it's Saturday night You're all dressed up in blue I been watching you awhile Maybe you been watching me, too So somebody ran out Left somebody's heart in a mess Well, if you're looking for love Honey, I'm tougher than the rest

It's been a long time coming, my dear It's been a long time coming, but now it's here

It takes a leap of faith to get things going It takes a leap of faith you gotta show some guts It takes a leap of faith to get things going In your heart you must trust

Fear's a powerful thing, baby It can turn your heart black, you can trust It'll take your God-filled soul And fill it with devils and dust

Well above the stars they crackle and fire A dead man's moon throws seven rings We'd put our ears to the cold grave stones This is the song they'd sing

A letter come blowing in On an ill wind Something about me and you Never seeing one another again And what I knew had come Stars struck deaf and dumb Like when we kissed That taste of blood on your tongue

The sun sets in flames as the city burns Another day gone down as the night turns And I hold you here in my heart As things fall apart

Now the ritual begins 'Neath the wedding garland we meet as strangers The dance floor is alive with beauty Mystery and danger We dance out 'neath the stars' ancient light into the darkening trees Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

For you I'll build a house High upon a grassy hill Somewhere across the border Where pain and memory Pain and memory have been stilled There, across the border And sweet blossoms fill the air Pastures of gold and green Roll down into cool clear waters And in your arms beneath open skies I'll kiss the sorrow from your eyes There, across the border

An endless stream of stars shooting by You got your hopes on high

I ain't lookin' for prayers or pity I ain't comin' 'round searchin' for a crutch I just want someone to talk to And a little of that human touch

World peace gonna break out From here on in, we're eating take out

Tonight the moon's looking young but I'm feelin' younger 'Neath a veil of dreams sweet blessings rain Honey I can feel the first breeze of summer And in your love I'm born again

I see you Mary in the garden In the garden of a thousand sighs There's holy pictures of our children Dancing in a sky filled with light

I got a big diamond watch sittin' on my wrist I try to tempt you, baby, but you just resist I made a deal with the devil, babe, I won't deny Until I got you in my arms, I can't be satisfied

And though this world is filled With the grace and beauty of God's hand Oh I wish I were blind When I see you with your man

The sky was falling And streaked with blood I heard you calling me Then you disappeared into the dust

Well, you get so sick of the fighting You lose your fear of the end But I can't lose your memory And the sweet smell of your skin

Love leaves nothin' but shadows and vapor We go on, as is our sad nature, baby

And we're walkin' on the wildside, runnin' down a one way street

You're dancin' with him he's holding you tight I'm standing here waitin' to catch your eye Your hand's on his neck as the music sways All my illusions slip away

If I'm going to live I'll lift my life Darling, to you

The scars we carry remain but the pain slips away it seems Oh won't you baby be in my book of dreams

So listen up, my sonny boy, be ready when they come For they'll be returning sure as the rising sun

I woke up this morning I could barely breathe Just an empty impression In the bed where you used to be I want a kiss from your lips I want an eye for an eye I woke up this morning to an empty sky

The earth, it gave away The sea rose towards the sun I opened up my heart to you It got all damaged and undone

May I feel your arms around me May I feel your blood mix with mine A dream of life comes to me Like a catfish dancing on the end of the line

Now your legs were heaven your breasts were the altar Your body was the holy land You shouted "jump" but my heart faltered You laughted and said "Baby don't you understand?"

I can't sleep so I lay awake listenin' to the sounds of the city below I get dressed and walk the streets but I got nowhere to go

Feelin' like a real man Well you can beat on your chest Hell any monkey can

These days I sit around and laugh At the many rivers I've crossed But on the far banks there's always another forest Where a man can get lost

We struggle here but all our love's in vain Oh these eyes that once filled me with your beauty Now fill me with pain And the light that once entered here Is banished from me And this darkness is all baby that my heart sees

Well if something in the air feels a little unkind Don't worry darlin' It'll slip your mind I'll be your gypsy joker your shotgun rider Baby let me be your soul driver

Well this is a prayer for the souls of the departed Those who've gone and left their babies brokenhearted

I was your big man I was your prince charming King on a white horse hey now look how far I've fallen I tried to trick you yeah but baby you got wise You cut me cut me right right down to size Now I'm just a fool in Gloria's eyes

I been up on sugar mountain, 'cross the sweet blue sea I walked the valley of love and tears and mystery I got run out'a luck and gave myself up for dead And I drank the cool clear waters from Maria's bed

And when that train comes we'll get on board And steal what we can from the treasures treasures of the Lord

A half-drunk beer and your breath in my ear At the Moonlight Motel

American beauty will you be mine Out on this highway counting white lines

And it’s all lies but I’m strung out on the wire In these streets of fire

and it’s one false move and baby the lights go out

And she’s so pretty that you’re lost in the star

And the world is busting at its seams And you’re just a prisoner of your dreams

And you’re in love with all the wonder it brings And every muscle in your body sings as the highway ignites

As you jockey your way through the cars And sit at the light, as it changes to green With your faith in your machine off you scream into the night

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet And a freight train running through the middle of my head

At night sometimes it seemed You could hear the whole damn city crying

Barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge Drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain

Blame it on the lies that killed us, Blame it on the truth that ran us down

But all her pretty dreams are torn, She stares off alone into the night

But I ride by night and I travel in fear That in this darkness I will disappear

But they said, “Johnny, it falls apart so easily, and you know hearts these days are cheap”

But tonight you’re gonna break on through to the inside

But your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold

Calling and calling so cold and alone Shining cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned

Dress in the latest rage

Driving all night, chasing some mirage

Eat at your insides and leave you face to face with Streets of fire

Everything dies baby that’s a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back

Explode and tear this old town apart Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart

For one kiss, darling I swear everything I would give Cause you’re a walking, talking reason to live

from the dark heart of a dream

From your front porch to my front seat, The door’s open but the ride ain’t free

He tried sellin’ his heart to the hard girls over on Easy Street

I don’t give a damn For the same old played out scenes Baby, I don’t give a damn For just the in-betweens Honey

I hear that whistle whining I feel her kiss in the misty rain And I feel like I’m a rider on a downbound train

I lie awake in the middle of the night Makin’ a list of things that I didn’t do right With you at the top of a long page filled

I see that lonely ribbon in your hair Tell me am I the man for whom you put it there

I took a wrong turn and I just kept going

I walk with angels that have no place

I’m a rolling stone just rolling on Catch me now ‘cause tomorrow I’ll be gone

I’m caught in a cross fire That I don’t understand

I’m twenty five hundred miles from where I wanna be It feels like a hundred years since you’ve been near to me

In this house it’s so easy to set a world on fire, All you need is the need and the money and a soul full of reckless desire

In this house the guilty go unpunished and blood and silence prevail, Here the dead remain nameless, the nameless remain jailed

It’s a long dark highway and a thin white line Connecting baby, your heart to mine, We’re runnin’ now but darlin’ we will stand in time

Just the false taste of paradise and then the fall

Kids flash guitars just like switch-blades

Let your hair down sugar and pick up this beat, Come on and meet me tonight down on Bluebird Street

Like soldiers in the winter’s night with a vow to defend No retreat, baby, no surrender

Lonely-hearted lovers  Struggle in dark corners   Soul engines running through a night so tender

Man I ain’t getting nowhere I’m just living in a dump like this There’s something happening somewhere baby I just know that there is

My brain takes a vacation just to give my heart more room

My kisses used to turn you inside out

Now the heart’s unsteady, and the night is still All I’ve got’s this melody, and time to kill

Oh-oh come take my hand, We’re riding out tonight to case the promised land, Oh-oh-oh-oh Thunder Road

Outside the street’s on fire In a real death waltz Between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy And the poets down here Don’t write nothing at all They just stand back and let it all be

Radio’s jammed up with talk show stations It’s just talk, talk, talk till you lose your patience

remember last summer drifting through our eyes

Show a little faith there’s magic in the night, You ain’t a beauty but hey you’re alright

So come close my pretty darling and let me feel your disease, Tonight I’ll have you naked and crawling at the end of my leash

So you fell for some jerk who was tall, dark and handsome Then he kidnapped your heart and now he’s holdin’ it for ransom

Sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull

Standing in that doorway like a dream

Talk about a dream Try to make it real You wake up in the night With a fear so real

That secret pact you made Back when her love could save you From the bitterness

That thunder in your heart At night when you’re kneeling in the dark It says you’re never gonna leave her But there’s this angel in her eyes That tells such desperate lies And all you want to do is believe her

The book of love holds its rules Disobeyed by fools

The hungry and the hunted Explode into rock'n'roll bands That face off against each other out in the street Down in Jungleland

The rat traps filled with soul crusaders, The circuits lined and jammed with chromed invaders

The screen door slams, Mary’s dress waves Like a vision, she dances across the porch As the radio plays Roy Orbison singing for the lonely, Hey that’s me and I want you only

The teenage tramps in skin-tight pants do the E Street dance

There were ghosts in the eyes Of all the boys you sent away, They haunt this dusty beach road In the skeleton frames of burned-out Chevrolets.

There’s a darkness on the edge of town

there’s a joke here somewhere and it’s on me

There’s a war outside still raging You say it ain’t ours anymore to win

Theres a sadness hidden in that pretty face, a sadness all her own, from which no man can keep Candy safe

These days you don’t wait on Romeo’s you wait on that welfare check

They say in the end true love prevails But in the end true love can’t be no fairytale

They say you gotta stay hungry hey baby I’m just about starving tonight

They scream your name at night in the street, Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet, And in the lonely cool before dawn, You hear their engines roaring on, When you get to the porch they’re gone On the wind

True love is broken and your tears are fallin’ faster You’re sufferin’ from a pain in your heart or some other natural disaster

Two hearts are better than one, Two hearts girl get the job done

Waiting for the bells that ring In the deep heart of the night

Waste your summer praying in vain, For a saviour to rise from these streets

We got married, and swore we’d never part Then little by little we drifted from each other’s hearts

We got one last chance to make it real, To trade in these wings on some wheels, Climb in back, Heaven’s waiting down on the tracks

We kiss, my hearts pumpin to my brain the blood rushes in my veins, when I touch Candys lips, We go driving, driving deep into the night, I go driving deep into the light, in Candys eyes

We shut ‘em up and than we shut ‘em down

we’re gonna ride to the sea And wash these sins off our hands.

Well I saw you last night down on the avenue Your face was in the shadows but I knew that it was you You were standin’ in the doorway out of the rain You didn’t answer when I called out your name You just turned, and then you looked away like just another stranger waitin’ to get blown away

Well the night’s busting open, These two lanes will take us anywhere

Well, everybody’s got a secret, Sonny, Something that they just can’t face, Some folks spend their whole lives trying to keep it, They carry it with them every step that they take.

Well, I believe in the love that you gave me I believe in the faith that can save me

Where we swore forever friends On the backstreets until the end

With a love so hard and filled with defeat

With her long hair falling And her eyes that shine like a midnight sun Oh she’s the one

Words were passed in a shotgun blast

You can hide 'neath your covers, And study your pain, Make crosses from your lovers, Throw roses in the rain

You can’t judge an apple by looking at a tree, You can’t judge honey by looking at the bee,  You can’t judge a daughter by looking at the mother, You can’t judge a book by looking at the cover

You don’t have to call me lieutenant, Rosie, and I don’t want to be your son

You end up like a dog that’s been beat too much Till you spend half your life just covering up

You inherit the sins, you inherit the flames, Adam raised a Cain

You know it’s never over, it’s relentless as the rain, Daddy worked his whole life, for nothing but the pain

You never smile girl, you never speak You just walk on by, darlin’, week after week

You pulled my jacket off and as the drummer counted four You grabbed my hand and pulled me out on the floor You just stood there and held me, then you started dancin’ slow And as I pulled you tighter I swore I’d never let you go

You sit and wonder just who’s gonna stop the rain Who’ll ease the sadness, who’s gonna quiet the pain

You wake up and you’re dying you don’t even know what from

You walk cool, but darlin’, can you walk the

You walk too far, you walk away Hello sunshine, won’t you stay

I thought I knew just who I was And what I’d do but I was wrong One minute you’re here Next minute you’re gone

Footsteps cracklin’ on a gravel road Stars vanish in a sky as black as stone

In the afternoon 'neath the summer sun We’d lie by the lake till the evening comes I run my fingers through your sun-streaked hair Baby, that’s the power of prayer

It’s a fixed game without any rules An empty table on a ship of fools I’m holding hearts, I’ll play the pair Darling, it’s just the power of prayer

I’m holding hearts, I’ll play the pair I’m goin’ all in 'cause I don’t care

I’m reaching for heaven, we’ll make it there

Zero’s my number, time is my hunter I wanted you to heal me but instead you set me on fire We were out over the borders, I washed you in holy water We whispered our black prayers and rose up in flames Take me on your burnin’ train

White sun burnin’, black wings beatin’

With our shared faith Rising dark and decayed Take me and shake me from this mortal cage

On your bed of thorns, I brought you shining gifts Wiped the sweat from your brow and I touched your lips Sheets stained with sweat, outside the endless rain Darlin’, I’m blessed in your blood and marked by Cain

Tried to summon all that my heart finds true And send it in my letter to you

Things I found out through hard times and good I wrote 'em all out in ink and blood Dug deep in my soul and signed my name true And sent it in my letter to you

I took all the sunshine and rain All my happiness and all my pain The dark evening stars and the morning sky of blue And I sent it in my letter to you

There’s a light on yonder mountain And it’s calling me to shine There’s a girl over by the water fountain And she’s asking to be mine

Well sweet Virgin Mary runs the Holy Grail saloon Well for a nickel she’ll give you whiskey and a personally blessed balloon

And the Holy Ghost is the host with the most, he runs the burlesque show Where they’ll let you in for free and they hit you when you go

Mary serving Mass on Sunday and she sells her body on Monday To the bootlegger who paid the highest price He don’t know he got stuck with a loser, she’s a stone junkie what’s more she’s a user She’s only been made once or twice by some kind of magic

If Jesus was a sheriff and I were a priest If my lady was an heiress and my Mama was a thief And Papa rode shotgun on the Fargo line There’s still too many outlaws trying to work the same line

Well things ain’t been the same in heaven since Big Bad Bobby came to town He’s been known to down eleven, then ask for another round

Me I’ve got scabs on my knees from kneeling way too long It’s about time I played the man, took a stand where I belong

And I forget about the old friends and the old times There’s just too many new boys trying to work the same line

Hands raised to Yahweh to bring the rain down He comes crawlin’ 'cross the dry fields like a dark shroud

Rainmaker, a little faith for hire Rainmaker, the house is on fire Rainmaker, take everything you have Sometimes folks need to believe in something so bad, so bad,

Rainmaker says white’s black and black’s white Says night’s day and day’s night Says close your eyes and go to sleep now I’m in a burnin’ field unloadin’ buckshot into low clouds

The blood moon shines across the vale Bells ring out through churches and jails I tally my wounds and count the scars Here in the house of a thousand guitars

The criminal clown has stolen the throne He steals what he can never own May the truth ring out from every small-town bar We’ll light up the house of a thousand guitars

Here the bitter and the bored Wake in search of the lost chord That’ll band us together for as long as there’s stars Here in the house of a thousand guitars

So wake and shake off your troubles, my friend We’ll go where the music never ends From the stadiums to the small-town bars We’ll light up the house of a thousand guitars

The road is long and seeming without end The days go on, I remember you my friend And though you’re gone and my heart’s been emptied it seems I’ll see you in my dreams

I’ll see you in my dreams when all our summers have come to an end I’ll see you in my dreams, we’ll meet and live and laugh again I’ll see you in my dreams, yeah around the river bend For death is not the end

Well how many wasted have I seen signed “Hollywood or bust” And left to ride the ever ghostly Arizona gusts Cheerleader tramps and kids with big amps sounding in the void High society vamps, ex-heavyweight champs mistaking soot for soil

Well sons they search for fathers, but the fathers are all gone The lost souls search for saviors, but saviors don’t last long

Those aimless questless renegade brats who live their lives in song They run the length of a candle, with a goodnight whisper and they’re gone

Believe me my good Linda, the aurora will shine the way

Those orphans jumped on silver mountains lost in celestial alleyways They wait for that old tramp Dog Man Moses, he takes in all the strays

Now don’t you grow on empty legends or lonely cradle songs Billy the Kid was just a bowery boy who made a living twirling his guns

The night she’s long and lanky and she speaks in a mother tongue She lullabies the refugees with amplifier’s hum

I hear the sound of your guitar Comin’ in from the mystic far Stone and the gravel in your voice Come in my dreams and I rejoice

It’s your ghost Moving through the night Spirit filled with light

Count the band in then kick into overdrive By the end of the set we leave no one alive

I shoulder your Les Paul and finger the fretboard I make my vows to those who’ve come before I turn up the volume, let the spirits be my guide Meet you brother and sister on the other side

All the redemption I can offer girl Is beneath this dirty hood

[halfway-happyyy]

Sleep on the Floor

AN: I’ve thought about this concept on and off for a while now, and finally decided to write it down. Alexander and a rather unfriendly acquaintance cross paths again at a music festival, and end up handcuffed together for the day. Under the cut because it’s lengthy 💖

tw: nothing but fluff, friends.

As always, feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

It was the bright glare of the sunlight glinting off the metal object in the back pocket of her best friend’s denim shorts that initially caught Daisy’s attention. After an hour of scouring multiple maps of Montreal’s many metro lines- (“Well do we need to take the orange line or the green one?” and “Can’t you just google maps it?” and perhaps Daisy’s personal favourite- “We should have just spent the sixty dollars on an uber.”) The trio of friends had finally made it to Parc Jean-Drapeau, where the three-day Osheaga music festival was being held. “Bea, what’ve you got in your pocket there?” Daisy reached toward her without an answer or invitation, and produced a pair of weighted, silver handcuffs. 

Bea lunged for the cuffs back, a smirk in place on her features.

“What on earth could you possibly need handcuffs for at a music festival?” Daisy asked, eyebrows raised in genuine confusion.

Returning the cuffs to her pocket, Bea shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, the smirk from moment’s ago still tugged the edge of her lip upward. “It’s been my experience that you just never know when you’ll need ‘em. Be good Daze, or I’ll use them on you.” And Daisy supposed that after a couple of choice alcoholic beverages that could start to sound like one hell of a fun proposition.

“I literally don’t see him anywhere Bea,” Hannah sighed heavily.

Daisy glanced at Bea’s better half; a hand shielded her gaze from the onslaught of the sun’s rays as she stood on tiptoes to scan the expansive park around her. “Who are you looking for?”

Hannah dropped back onto the balls of her feet; her bottom lip wedged between her teeth like she was anxious about something. “Did Bea not tell you?” She peered over at her girlfriend, expectantly. “Did you not tell her?”

Bea rolled her hazel eyes and murmured “shit.”

Daisy’s vision narrowed. “What’s going on?”

Hannah squinted over at Daisy, kicking aside a stray pebble with the toe of her pink platform sneaker. “We uh… We invited Alex and some of his friends to join us for the weekend.”

Her mouth suddenly devoid of all moisture, Daisy wished that she had a bottle of beer in her hand, or some other ice-cold alcoholic beverage to distract her from the heat rising steadily to her cheeks. Tongue thick in her throat, she turned to her friends. “You invited Alex Skarsgård to our Osheaga weekend?” Shifting from side to side uncomfortably, Bea eventually nodded her head in the affirmative. Daisy took a deep breath. “I just think that might have been good information to know before now.”

“You wouldn’t have come…” Hannah interjected.

A humorless laugh bubbled up from the base of Daisy's throat. “You’re probably right.” Hives of people from all over the country milled about the green hillsides, a myriad of accents and languages- mostly French, echoed throughout the vast park. Daisy raised her face to the heavens, reveling in the feeling of the late July sun on her skin and sighed heavily.

“What is it about him?” Bea asked quietly.

Daisy's eyes fell shut. “Where would I even begin?”

“Alright, here they come.” Hannah murmured.

Bea offered her dearest friend a sympathetic look but knew better than to touch her just then. “He wants to make it up to you, Daze.”

Daisy swallowed hard and followed Hannah’s gaze to the quartet of men currently striding towards them. He bore a striking resemblance to the man she had known a year ago, though his dark blonde hair was longer now, and stubble shadowed the underside of his chiseled jaw. Clad in a pair of dark jeans, a grey t shirt and a pair of black converse high-tops, a round pair of yellow tortoise-shell sunglasses sat perched atop his head. “I don’t need him to,” Daisy murmured. “Just try and help me keep my distance from him today, alright?”

Bea was apprehensive, but nodded her head in agreement. “Alright.”

“Good afternoon ladies!” Alexander exclaimed jubilantly once he had caught up to them. He greeted both Hannah and Bea with bear hugs like he’d known them his whole life, and not a mere couple of years. When he got to Daisy, she was surprised to see that his grin hadn’t faltered at all. “Hello Daisy. It’s nice to see you again.”  

She offered him a wilted smile. “Hi, Alex.”

He faltered a beat before turning to the three men next to him. Daisy knew by the sight of them that they had to be related to Alexander in some way, each one a wide-eyed and giraffe-like carbon copy of the other. “Ladies, this here is my good pal Oskar, my kid brother Valter, and my other brother Bill.”

And God said, “Let there be Skarsgård’s,” and there were Skarsgårds.

Bea cleared her throat. “Alright, gang. Shall we check out the rest of the park? Find a watering hole?”

Alexander held out an arm before him. “Lead the way, friend.”

“How long are you guys here for?” Hannah asked as they made their way into a beer tent on the platinum grounds.

“Just for the weekend. Then I'm back to New York for a couple of meetings and then uh… these guys and I,” He winked at the three men next to him. “Are supposed to be in Stockholm for a wedding next week.” Alexander reached into his back pocket for his wallet and approached the bartender behind the counter. “Hey there. How are you?”

"Fantastic." A miniscule fan in the corner of the tent did little to blow any actual cool air around, and a slick sheen of perspiration bloomed over her neck and forehead.

“You must be pumped to be able to hear all the music from here!” Bill beamed at her.

She smacked the wad of pink bubblegum in her mouth, her expression deadpan. “Absolutely ecstatic.”

Valter cleared his throat to keep from laughing.

“Alright then. Uh,” Alexander squinted at the black chalkboard drink menu above him. “What have you got in the way of alcohol for shots?”

“Vodka. Gin. Tequila.”

He turned to the group, gaze expectant. “What are we all in the mood for?”

“Vodka!” Had been the resounding answer, and Daisy didn’t think she’d ever been more ready to shoot straight liquor in her entire life. The alcohol was rough, and it stoked the fire already roaring in the pit of her belly, causing beads of sweat to bloom on her forehead. They milled about for another fifteen minutes, and Daisy was awed by how much alcohol the seven of them had been able to consume in such a short amount of time. Some drinks came in the form of grotesque shooters- “We drink these all the time back home!”, others had taken the shape of ice-cold beers beneath the salvation of another tent. It occurred to her that the breakfast she had consumed a couple of hours ago was insufficient for the poison now in her system, and that down the line, it might pose a bit of a problem. For now, Daisy was simply content to sip whatever she was given, and to enjoy the first full day of her vacation.

Their first set of the weekend was the Foo Fighters- and by some stretch of a miracle, the festival gods had blessed her with a spot in the crowd that made for a fantastic vantage point of the stage. She was naive to assume that it would happen again, so she watched Dave Grohl dominate the crowd in unbridled awe, and without a care in the world. And when they played My Hero- she joined along with the sea of people around her and sang her heart out to every single word.

After the set ended, the seven of them managed to touch base again beneath a patch of glorious shade. “It’s come to my attention that you and I have some unfinished business, Daisy.” Alexander had to yell to be heard above the roar of the white noise around them.

Even surrounded by hundreds of strangers, Daisy felt inexplicably naked beneath his gaze and she shifted uncomfortably on the spot. “You don’t owe me anything, Alex.”

“I owe you an apology, Daisy.”

A sigh exited her mouth in the form of a puff of air, and she eyed the people walking past her with mild contempt. “Just for one day, just one, I want to know what it feels like to be tall at a concert.”

“I know how you feel, Daze.” Hannah fanned a hand in front of her face in a useless attempt to keep the sweltering heat at bay.

Valter laughed and traded sheepish expressions with Bill. “Unfortunately, we don’t.”

Alexander clicked his tongue and glanced down at her, azure eyes glittering mischievously. “View from down there not so great, huh?”

His tone brimmed with mirth and Daisy’s skin prickled under the heat of it; the urge to smack the smirk from his face was all-consuming. She stared up at him, pointedly. “As someone who probably shares- at least most- of their genetic makeup with that of the Brachiosaurus, I wouldn’t expect you to understand what it’s like.”

His guffaw was loud and booming, and it caused Daisy’s heightened blood pressure to soar beneath the scorching Montreal weather. “Yeah, well, every woman in your maternal bloodline for the past one hundred years was probably four foot eleven, tops. You take what you’re given, kid.” Silence hung between them and Daisy shot Bea a look that simply said, ‘you did this to me, and eventually you will pay for it’. Alexander cleared his throat, oblivious to the mounting tension. “Look, if you want I can hoist you onto my shoulders for the next set and then you’ll know exactly what it’s like to be tall at a concert.”

Daisy took a deep sip of her beer, her defiant gaze trained on something unseen before her. “Your concern for my experience here is heartwarming, really it is, but believe me when I say that I’d rather suffer down here.”

Alexander shrugged and shook his head in mild amusement. “Suit yourself then, half-pint.” Venomous words threatened to erupt from her throat, but they stayed lodged where they were, because just then and with the expertise of someone who was inexplicably well-versed in the act, Bea had managed to clasp a silver handcuff around Daisy’s left wrist. She stared at it in alcohol-induced amusement, and suddenly everyone around them was laughing. She lifted her arm to try and shake her wrist out of it, but a heavy weight dropped it back down to her side, and the realization that the other half of her cuff was bound to Alexander’s right wrist, was sudden and all-consuming. She swallowed hard. 

“While admittedly funny for the first few milliseconds, I’m going to have to insist that you unlock us now.”

Bea levelled her honeyed gaze with Daisy’s and smiled sweetly. “Relax Daze. You’ll be free of each other by nightfall.”

All Alexander could do was howl. “Nightfall? Good luck-" He managed in between fits of laughter. “Getting the kid to last half an hour!” When his laughter had subsided, he cleared his throat and glanced down at Bea, his blue gaze twinkled roguishly. “C’mon Bea. Let us out, hm?”

Bea shook her head and patted the miniscule outline of the key in her pocket. “Last set of the day. Nightfall. I promise.”

There had been protests from both sides, but for as strong-willed as Daisy knew her best friend to be, she also knew that she wasn’t in the business of giving in easily and the pair of them gave up trying while they were ahead. While mind-numbingly irritating for the first few hours, the all-consuming heat eventually zapped Daisy of her ability to care about anything except for cold drinks and air conditioning, and she supposed, begrudgingly, that there were worse people to be chained to for a day. It was only after their lunch of tacos and beer from a local food truck- Daisy and Alexander sat atop a bed of grass, knee-to-knee, that they realized they had managed to get split up from the rest of the crew. But if either of them had been worried about it, they didn’t let it show. “Who are you most excited to see play here?” Daisy asked for no reason, other than she could think of nothing else to say.

Alexander tipped the neck of the beer bottle to his lips with his free hand and took a hearty gulp. “Who am I most excited to see? Who are you most excited to see?”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t answer a question with a question. Besides, I asked you first.”

He pursed his lips together as if he were thinking hard about it. “The person I am most excited to see, have been waiting all year for… has to be Cardi B.”

She stared at him, deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“Actually, I’m not. I’d tell you to confirm with Valter but he is, very conveniently, missing in action.”

Daisy laughed suddenly, and it was a laughter that came in waves and spurred on his own, each of them nearly doubled over as they gave in to their fits. “Gonna to do the WAP?” She breathed out when she could manage it, wiping away traces of saltwater with the pad of her thumb.

Alexander feigned solemnity. “Listen, I would do the WAP dance right this very minute if it weren’t for these cuffs.”

“I believe you.” She giggled.

"I'm glad." His face broke into a beam that put sunshine to shame. Draining the rest of the bottle, he set it back onto the grass and cocked his head to the side. “And you? Who are you most excited to see?”

Daisy stared up at him, the answer had been ready on the tip of her tongue, but something in his eyes stopped her dead in her tracks. “You have the loveliest flecks of gold in your eyes, did you know that?”

Alexander’s gaze fell to the grass beneath him, his smile painfully shy. “Let’s find us some more beer then, hey? Up on three.”

“Good plan. But we have an issue to resolve first,” Daisy murmured.

Alexander faltered; his head cocked to the side in question. “You mean- apart from the one where we are currently joined at the hip until Bea decides to take mercy on us?”

Daisy nodded. “Right. Besides that one. I have to pee… really bad.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a chuckle roared from the base of his throat instead, and Daisy swore it was like hearing laughter for the very first time. There was an infectious joy to it that made her want to make him laugh like that for that for the rest of her days.

“Alright. Let’s find you a washroom.”

It hadn’t been a difficult venture; platinum tickets holders benefited from the use of private on-site washrooms, and it occurred to Daisy that the astronomical price for the ticket was worth it, solely based on that luxury itself. “I’m sorry that this a thing you are being privy to.” Daisy muttered as they squeezed into a stall together.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, I’ve been privy to worse things, kid. I’ll turn away.”

As Daisy hiked her sundress up her frame and squatted above the toilet, she reminded herself that revenge was a dish best served cold, and that one way or another, Bea would pay.

Alexander and Daisy’s afternoon continued in the same fashion; they attended whatever sets piqued their interests, lost track of how many people commented on their unusual predicament, and satiated their parched throats with lots of cold alcoholic beverages. Finally, the golden sun began to sink low over the Montreal skyline, and the temperature drop that came with it was a welcome reprieve to the day's stifling heat. They found themselves amidst a healthy crowd of people, all breathless and ready for one of the final sets of the evening. As she waited for the band to take the stage, Daisy suddenly felt exhausted beyond all measure, but also satisfied in a way that she hadn't been accustomed to in years. She could pin it on the alcohol, or the heat, or that she had finally allowed herself a couple of days off to do whatever she pleased. Deep down, she knew it had nearly everything to do with her current company.

“Where did you go just now?” Alexander asked.

Daisy glanced up at him, confused. “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

He seemed unconvinced. “You were a million miles away.”

A shiver wracked her body that had nothing to do with the current weather, and she gestured to the stage. “The Lumineers. These are the guys I'm most excited to see.”

Alexander beamed down at her. “Well then how lucky am I that I get to see them with you.”

Two men entered the stage just then, one stepped up to the microphone, and the other took a seat behind a drum set. Daisy didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until the opening beats of Sleep on the Floor rang out into the humid air before her. A cacophony of cheers erupted from the concertgoers around them, and goosebumps bloomed in patterns over her arms when the bearded man began to sing.

Pack yourself a toothbrush dear

Pack yourself a favorite blouse

Take a withdrawal slip

Take all of your savings out

‘Cause if we don’t ever leave this town

We might never make it out

I was not born to drown

Baby come on

~

“The key is gone.”

The day’s final concert had done Daisy in, and she was inexplicably tired now; her legs heavy like lead, eyelids threatening to shut on their own at any second.

“What do you mean the key is gone, Bea?” She heard Alexander ask. His voice was level, but there was an underlying tinge of frustration to it that made Daisy’s stomach sink.

“It’s… it’s gone. I had it in my pocket earlier and now it’s gone.”

Daisy yawned wide, the urge to lay down on the patch of grass beneath her was almost too tempting to bear. “I’m tired, Alex.”

“I know, kid.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Where did you last have it?”

Bea tugged the edge of her lip into her mouth and shrugged her shoulders, helplessly. “I last had it in my pocket.” Dozens of people pushed past the group on their way out of the park; on their way home to waiting bathtubs and beds and Daisy was unbelievably envious of them.

“Alright. This is what we’re going to do,” He sighed. “The four of us are going to get into a cab, we’re going to head back to the hotel, and Daisy and I will meet up with you guys right here tomorrow morning. If the key still hasn’t turned up, we’ll have to figure something else out.”

“I’m really sorry about this, guys.” Bea muttered lowly.

You absolutely should be, Daisy thought.

Hannah cleared her throat, her arms crossed tight across her chest. “Are you alright with this Daze?”

She nodded, wordlessly.

Their uber ride back to the hotel only spanned the entirety of fifteen minutes, but it seemed like a lifetime to Daisy. She drifted off on Alexander’s shoulder to the lulling sound of muted Swedish between the three men, and when she was gently tapped awake by Alexander, the car was parked outside of the Four Seasons. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you into bed, hm?”

“This is fancy…” She murmured, as she slid out of the open car door and into the humid evening air.

Valter laughed heartily. “Just wait til you see where you’re staying, Daisy.”

The boys bid themselves goodnight, with Alexander slinging his free arm around each of their shoulders in a half-embrace. He waited until he knew Bill and Valter had made it into their elevator safely, and then led Daisy to a discreet elevator off the lobby, which they rode to the top floor wordlessly. She wasn’t sure what she had expected when the doors opened, but her breath hitched in her throat as she drank in the room in which Alexander was calling home for the next three days. “This is-

“A lot, I know.” He murmured. They wandered past the single king bed, into the next room, whose expansive bay windows offered a breathtaking view of Montreal’s twinkling downtown lights. Daisy gazed down at their entwined wrists, at the small metal chain that bound them together, and marveled at how a mere twelve hours had the power to change everything. “Daisy, I’m sorry.” Alexander spoke above a whisper now. “I’m sorry for leaving you behind last year.”

She took a deep breath, the words thick at the back of her throat. “I never should have put you in a position where you felt that you had to choose between your career, and me.”

Alexander’s fingers found hers, and he squeezed them thrice. “You waltzed into my life when I least expected it, Daisy,” An incredulous sigh pushed past his lips and he shook his head. “A breathtaking hurricane of a woman. I made the decision to ask you to dinner, I should have showed up.”

She smiled tiredly. “You showed up today, Alex.”

He leaned towards her, pressing his lips to her temple, and his laughter rumbled through her and warmed her in ways sunshine never could. “And look where we are now.”

She gazed up at him, at the deepened creases next to his eyes, and the subtle flecks of gold among a sea of blue, and in that moment, she hardly cared if they ever found the key at all. There was an effortlessness to that truth that felt akin to breathing. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, Alex.”

When Daisy's eyes opened in the morning, the weight of Alexander's impossibly warm arm hung snug around her clothed stomach, the cool metal of his cuff a stark contrast to her warm inner arm. The Montreal sunlight pouring in through their bay window glinted off a miniscule key-shaped object on the rug a few feet away from where they lay, and a small smile tugged her lips skyward.

[konohababy]

a losing game | iwaizumi h.

warnings: mentions of sex but nothin explicit word count: 1.2k notes: cliché plot line but i wanted to do my take on it bc i just be writing out here,, but i suggest listening to this song by NIKI while ur at it too :)

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.°

I love you.

The words claw at Iwaizumi’s throat every time your fingers brush against his, desperate and hot as his mouth drags along the delicate skin of your neck. He’d say it a million times over if you’d let him, kissing poems onto your lips that’ll leave you breathless even after you leave his apartment in the morning. He’d burn the words into your memory if he could, writing you love letters to list out the reasons why he broke his promise, and why he’s been lying to you about it ever since. But instead, he’s leaving bite marks across your body, figuring that the shallow bruises of blue and purple are as close to bleeding droplets of ink as he can get. He’s pressing your back against that one awfully gray wall of his apartment, knee between your legs as you reach for the button of his jeans and he’s thinking that this is as good as it’ll ever be. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, you’d made that clear. But he did anyway, crossing that line only to find himself straying further and further from it each time you show up at his door. 

I love you.

It’s just sex. Iwaizumi’s heard the words spill from your lips countless times before and he supposes it’s his fault he never really listens. To him, you’re more than just a fuck. He wants to be able to walk down the street with his hand in yours, his name laced into your heartstrings. He wants to hold you when your clothes are on, your chests touching through heavy fabric, and know that at the end of the day you won't be walking out the door to a life that doesn't involve him. He wants to write you those love letters, those poems, and not have you regret a single word of it. He wants you, all of you, but he finds that there will never be a good time to tell you this. 

I love you.

There’s a shift after he introduces you to Takahiro Hanamaki, something that can only be compared to the feeling of moving all the furniture in your house two steps to the left—the feeling that things aren’t quite the same as before. Because the way you look at Hajime now pales in comparison to the way you look at Makki, eyes gleaming with a certain brilliance that Iwa had once thought was reserved for him. Your sleepovers at his apartment begin to lessen, with you instantly scrambling to gather your things the moment you catch your breath. The kisses you press against his jawline afterwards are absentminded, no longer filled with the care and sweetness they used to have. You start to flake on the dick appointments you set up, apologizing profusely over the phone because Makki’s always somewhere waiting on you. He knows it’s because you’re better, happier with his strawberry blond friend, and Iwa’s in no position to feel pissed about such a thing but if he’s digging his own grave then fuck it. Seeing you fall in love with someone else will never sit right with him, but it’s not his job to love you.

I love you.

Iwa’s gotten skilled at pushing the words back down his throat, letting them die in his stomach before they ever pass his lips. Things are beginning to get serious between you and Takahiro, according to what the boys tell him. It’s only solidified on the days Iwa’s hips still against yours and you’re pressing your foreheads together, panting, whispering something along the lines of, "We shouldn't be doing this." But you still continue to show up at his door and he’ll still continue to dig the whorls of his fingertips into your body, pushing himself inside you as you breathe out his name and clutch onto his arms. He knows it’s stupid to get his hopes up during these moments, for searching for meaning between your soft smiles and gentle laughs, but the words he wants to hear never leave your mouth and it’s enough for him to know it’s just his imagination. He’s playing a losing game now, one where you’re pulling all the strings and peeking at his cards, and he won’t hesitate to play into your hands time and time again if it means you’ll stick around for just a moment longer. 

I love you.

“You can always stay the night, by the way,” Iwa breathes out one night, collapsing into bed beside you. “It’s not like you’ve never done it before.”

You turn to face him, face aglow with the aftermath of sex before pressing an apologetic kiss to his lips. “You know I can’t. Makki’s waiting for me.”

Iwa scoffs, sitting himself up in bed as you rise to gather your clothes off of the floor. “Makki didn’t just fuck you into oblivion either.”

A teasing smile pulls at your lips then, glancing at him after you shuffle your shirt over your head and tug on your pants. “Look, Haji, I know you’re in love with me, but I gotta go.”

It’s a just a joke to you, but he wonders if you know that it’s also nothing but the truth. Iwa slumps against his headboard and tugs the blanket over the lower half of his naked body as he presses on. “If I admit it, will you stay?”

“Nope,” You grin, narrowing your eyes at him with a challenge. “But I’m not opposed to hearing it.”

He watches you fix yourself in the mirror, patting your unruly hair into place and smoothing out your clothes, erasing any hint that you’ve been here with him. He swallows, hating how much the gesture makes his heart ache.

“What’s the point if I know I won’t hear it back?”

You grab your keys from his bedside table, smiling. “Try me.”

He bites his tongue. 

I love you.

“Get going idiot, before he realizes something’s up.”

You laugh then, offering him one last kiss before you’re sliding out the door, leaving him alone in his apartment. He closes his eyes, picturing your bare figure beneath his sheets, glowing in the silver moonlight as the shadows of his blinds drift across your skin. He's imagining your shoes sitting in their usual spot by the front, your bag tossed casually on his kitchen counter, and your favorite flavor of ice cream sitting in the freezer—an image of something close to a domestic life with you. He knows it’s out of reach, but he’ll keep pretending for as long as you let him.

I love you.

It’s not until another two months pass that you decide you’re done playing.  You’re folding your cards and cutting the strings, throwing Hanamaki’s hoodie back over your head one winter morning as you’re getting ready to leave the warmth of Iwa’s apartment after an accidental sleepover. He’s observing you in silence from the kitchen table as he sips on his coffee, noting the way your eyes dull at the sight of yourself in the hallway mirror, how you sheepishly fix your hair back into place, fingertips distant and face solemn. There's light breaking around your shoulders when you reach for the door, turning towards him ever so slightly as your gaze drops to the ground.

"This is the last time, Iwaizumi," is the only thing that you manage to say in the moment.

And despite the fact that he's heard those words before, he can only nod in response. He knows you mean it this time. And all the words he's been meaning to say seem to get caught in his throat as you step outside and gently close the door behind you.

I love you.

[philliamwrites]

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

Fandom: The Case Study of Vanitas (Mochizuki Jun)

Pairing: Noé/Vanitas

Tags: #vanitas pines for noé, #implied/referenced past rape/non-con, #implied/referenced past childe abuse, #blood and unjury, #angst and feels, #forehead kisses

Words: 3.7k

Summary: Vanitas can’t sleep so he does the only other thing he’s good at besides curing vampires from the curse: harass Noé. It escalates royally and doesn’t end good. No one is surprised.

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

   Moonlight casts slim, silver lines on Noé’s face.

  Sitting on the windowsill, Vanitas can see the slow and steady rise of Noé’s chest, a constant rhythm speaking of life. How he has survived until today is still a wonder to Vanitas. Only a few feet separate him from the sleeping, defenceless body—a body he knows all too well capable of pulling tense like a bowstring when ready to strike; an animal equipped with lethal tools to hunt and destroy. But Noé is a paradox of black and white, a pacifist at heart that opens up too easily, too quick. Why else would he be interested in someone like Vanitas?

    Their conversation at the top of the bell tower is still ringing all too clear in his head, a memory he’d rather strip from his mind and drop in the deepest part of a vicious, dark sea. Noé is dangerous, because unbeknown to himself, he has worked a strange magic on Vanitas, pulling at invisible chains curling around his neck however Noé pleases. If Vanitas didn’t know better, he’d call it Fate, but she has abandoned him long ago to suddenly return like a sullen lover and beg him for companionship.

    “Louis,” Noé murmurs, drawing back Vanitas’s attention, and no, he isn’t jealous, not in the slightest. He just wants to reach inside Noé’s mouth and rip that name out of him. He hates that even though Noé is easy to read like an open book, it turns out its pages are filled with enigmas Vanitas is unable to solve.

    A little huff escapes him as he slides down the windowsill, his feet landing eerily quiet on the floor. Watching Noé snore undisturbed, he’s quite sure he’s met what must be the worst vampire of his kind. What else explains his utter lack of awareness of danger? Vanitas imagines slipping right next to him and sliding a dagger across his throat or put the barrel right above his heart, pulling the trigger.

    He’s so easy, Vanitas thinks, barely holding back a scoff. In so many ways.

    Noé shifts, and Vanitas stops, only noticing then he’s already crossed the room and has almost reached Noé’s bedside. And that’s another thing he can’t stand about Noé: He makes Vanitas do things impulsively, barely spending another thought if what he’s about to do is beneficial or utterly disastrous—no matter that, in most cases he is already moving, already talking, and it’s so aggravating that 80 percent of what he’s saying in a sentence starts or ends with Noé’s name on his lips. Like a blessing, like a prayer. Vanitas doesn’t pray, not anymore. He’s stopped long ago, and no God, Saint or Martyr’s promise of benediction would be enough for a reward to make him resume.

    So they punish him, and surely Noé is just another part of what they hold in store for him. Another explanation isn’t possible, because why of all nights in which he has visited Noé, this time he wakes up, his warning only a little hum before Vanitas is met with a sleepy face and white hair adorably ruffled.

    No, not adorable, he tells himself. Terrible. Annoying.

    “Vanitas?” Noé’s voice is rough on the edges and thick with sleep. “You can’t sleep?”

    Vanitas feels challenged to say, “No, watching people sleep is one of my many exotic hobbies!” but he’s tired and sort of really desperate for some form of rest, so defeated, he admits, “No, I can’t.”

    Noé considers him with more regard, and Vanitas wonders what he thinks, watching him stand in his room, barefoot and with deep shadows under his eyes. Just the previous day, he'd commented that Vanitas wasn’t looking well at all, and he'd asked if they should rest for a while. Vanitas had pressed on even harder, refusing Noé another good look at his battered form.

    The silence stretches before them like a lazy beast, unmoving but still ready to pounce any second. Eventually, Noé offers with a carefully even voice, “Do you want to know what always helped me falling asleep when I was a child?”

    Vanitas scoffs. “No, I really don’t.”

    “Good,” Noé says, either not noticing or ignoring Vanitas rolling his eyes. “Whenever I couldn’t fall asleep, I’d go to Domi’s room and climb into her bed. Knowing someone was beside me helped, and I can sleep much better with someone warm next to me.”

    “My, do I look like a ten year old boy, barely able to fend for myself that I need to share my bed with someone?” Vanitas cocks his head to the side, squinting at Noé from under his black lashes. “And who would want to lie next to a rough sleeper like you, ending up as a body pillow for your serving!”

    Noé arches a slim, white eyebrow and lifts his blanket. Vanitas stares at him for a moment, then moves towards him like a moth to the flame and crawls under the sheets, settling right next to the other boy. “What a splendid idea!” no one says, because it isn’t.

    Noé is a furnace beside him. Whatever space Vanitas tries to bring between them, he immediately bridges, pressing his arm against Vanitas’s.

    “Dominique is going to kill me if she hears about this,” he murmurs into the darkness, ignoring how Noé’s calf feels against his bare ankle. “If you so much as mention it to her, I will haunt you down and slay you.”

    Noé hums as he turns around to face him, snuggling into the blanket. Vanitas tries to lie as still as possible. He imagines he is a rock at the bottom of a vast sea where he’s been for hundreds of years and will remain for another hundreds of years. It works until he feels Noé’s warm breath ghost over his cheek and in his imagination, Vanitas sees the rock carried away with the water current.

    “She won’t bother,” Noé says. “Like I said, we used to do that all the time as kids. Me, Domi and—” The sudden silence feels like the air sucked out of the room so no sound can travel. Vanitas can feel his shoulders tense, his breath caught somewhere on the way from his lungs to his mouth.

    Don’t say Louis, don’t say Louis, he thinks.

    “And Louis,” Noé finishes quietly, another breath on Vanitas’s skin.

    “Then we must be talking about a different Dominique,” Vanitas says, not indulging at all in the boy that’s written in blood on Noé’s tongue and hands. “But then again, you are her favourite thing, and she would do anything for you. Do me one favour, would you? Don’t invite me to your wedding.”

    Noé makes a strange, curious sound, and draws his knees up to his chest. Vanitas tries to accommodate by moving further towards the edge but half of his body is already hanging off, barely covered by the blanket. He shivers and turns to his side, now facing Noé and notices too late what a terrible idea that is with only a few inches separating their faces. His eyes shift from Noé’s ears to his cheekbones and focus on where his lashes throw dark shadows on his skin.

    “Wedding?” Noé blinks up at him. “Me and Domi? What makes you think that we would marry?”

    “What makes you think you won’t?”

    “Dominique is like a sister to me.” Noé hums another little, low note, leaning his head forward. Vanitas leans back. “No, she is the sister I always wished for. I love her as family.”

    “Why, go and break her heart like that.” Vanitas sighs, faking a concerned huff. Either the soft fabric just under the tip of his fingers is his own coat or Noé’s pyjama, and he doesn’t dare moving to find out. “Or maybe you’re actually naive enough to believe she feels the same way.”

    “Why wouldn’t she?” He can practically hear the other boy frowning. “I’m certain she too loves me as a brother. And should she ever decide to marry, I’ll surely be sad, but it doesn’t matter as long as she’s happy. I just know she’ll be a beautiful bride.”

    Vanitas rolls his eyes, unable to believe such gullibility and there’s nothing he wants to do more than claw his way into Noé’s heart and see what makes him tick like that, what mechanics work to produce such a strange specimen like him. But before he can give back a snark remark, Noé suddenly asks, “What about you?”

    “Oh, I would make a lovely bride, thank you for asking.”

    “No, I mean marriage,” Noé says after a poorly restrained chuckle. “Are you considering to marry Jeanne?”

    Vanitas’s mouth forms a little ‘o’ before he barks out a laugh. “What in Heaven’s sake makes you think that?” he says, pressing one hand against his forehead because surely whatever Noé comes up with now will give him the headache that’s asserted itself within him since their first encounter.

    Noé is quiet for a moment, then whispers, “Because you love her.”

    Vanitas stops laughing. The headache doesn’t come, it’s dulled by the strange tone in Noé’s voice, one he fails to identify. It’s like grabbing mist, the whitish mystery clearly visible but slipping through his fingers.

    “That is a very strong assumption,” he starts slowly, hearing the edge in his own voice. “But tell me, Noé, do you see me as someone who is capable of loving?” Noé’s breath hitches, his answer clear to Vanitas before even spoken, so quickly, and with a voice dark and hard, like late-winter ice, he adds, “A vampire of all things?”

    Noé’s breath hitches again, this time sounding like a knife stabbed into his side. It does something funny to Vanitas, makes his heart jump a little out of tact, and he feels a smile slowly forming his lips into a crooked line. His hand sneaks up from under the blanket and reaches to grab a white lock, playing a contrast of black and white between his gloved fingers.

    “I don’t love, Noé,” he whispers, pushing his cheek into the pillow that smells of Noé. “Not you, not Jeanne. Not humans, and certainly not vampires. I only consume those of value to my cause.” Like you. Like Jeanne and that boy she holds so dear.

    Noé seems to understand, but he doesn’t pull away from Vanitas’s touch, which speaks volumes of whatever this connection between them is. No, he slightly turns his head, nuzzling into Vanitas’s hand, and with a shudder Vanitas realises how vulnerable the inside of his wrist is just inches away from Noé’s mouth and those hidden teeth that can easily rip apart his skin.

    In this short moment he begs to whatever deities currently punishing him that he would bite him. Because then everything would easily fall into place, and he could kill Noé without second thought; without remorse.

    Silver lines return to Noé’s face, and Vanitas blinks up at the window, at the narrow slit showing the moon emerging behind thick clouds, making Noé look like a piece torn out of the night sky: silver and black.

    “Ah, but it seems there is someone else who adores you,” he says, his voice rising to a playful, ironic tint. He nods his chin towards the moon, and Noé turns around and away from Vanitas’s hand, blinking into the soft light. Just for a split second, his fingers twitch—toward Noé’s throat, his cheek, his lips?—but he already pulls it back under the blanket, still feeling exactly where Noé has touched him even through the thick fabric of his glove.

    “La lune?” Noé turns back to Vanitas, brows drawn together.

    “Yes, the very one. But I don’t recommend giving into it. You can only go so far on a roof after all before you reach the end.”

    “What are you talking about?”

    “You don’t know the story? About the man falling in love with the moon. He climbed up to a roof to reach her, but well. I think you can imagine the end of that.”

    “It sounds like the moon is a harsh mistress,” Noé says slowly, surprising Vanitas in joining his antics, even following his train of thought. “La belle dame sans merci,” he whispers. “Then you two aren’t so different.”

    Vanitas raises an eyebrow. “Beg your pardon?”

    “Just as distant,” he says, shifting away from Vanitas for the first time. Good, Vanitas should think. Stay away from me. But instead he goes rigid and demands, Don’t go. “Just as out of reach.”

    “Thank you, I try to keep things interesting,” Vanitas says, his voice hollow.

    Noé surprises him (there it is again, being surprised when Vanitas has sworn that he’ll never underestimate another person ever again) by giving a soft chuckle. “But that makes me want to get closer to you even more, Vanitas.”

    His mouth goes dry. His brain tries to follow up with whatever might rebuilt the wall between them, brick by brick, but instead his mind betrays him and takes over his mouth, babbling, “Did you know Alain Chartier wrote the poem about the merciless belle dame? It’s a little tacky to my taste, but then again, I wouldn’t beg anyone for their adoration. It’s a silly concept, the dialogue between the Lover and the Lady, I mean why would anyone ride out to enjoy a party, only to languish at the feet of—”

    Noé groans. He stops the onslaught of words by slapping a hand on Vanitas’s mouth. The sudden silence stretches into uncomfortable territory until Vanitas can’t bear it anymore. He stares at Noé out from the corner of his eyes, and parts his lips to drag his tongue over Noé’s fingers. Noé flinches, and looks back at him with wide eyes. What usually did the trick to gross people out (Dante for example was fairly familiar with this concept and never failed to meet Vanitas’s expectations to draw away quickly) doesn’t work on Noé. He remains transfixed on Vanitas’s face as if all secrets of the universe display on his features, and Vanitas starts to questions his action. Suddenly, Noé shifts. He props himself on one elbow and leans over him, casting a long shadow over his upper body.

    Just then, Vanitas realises what a dangerous situation he’s in. Up until this moment, he thought Noé to be shy, but that isn’t right at all. Noé is quiet resolve, and steadfast loyalty, he is the very silence ready to pounce and turn peace into havoc. It’s evident in how he watches Vanitas behind half closed eyes, those ruby mirrors considering him with an unreadable expression. His heart picks up, and before he can ascertain if this is a game he can win, he answers with sultry eyes himself, and mouths “Kiss me” against Noé’s skin.

    It’s just out of curiosity, he tells himself. He wants to rile Noé up a little, see how far he can go and where he draws the line. Maybe Noé won’t do a thing and play the blushing maiden Vanitas imagines him to be. They both know it’s a dare Noé will lose because he respects Vanitas’s boundaries too much, and that little victory satisfies him already enough to smile into Noé’s hand triumphantly.

    Noé considers him with a blank expression before his eyes slowly drift to his hand where it’s still secured over Vanitas’s mouth. Something changes in his eyes, they grow soft, and Vanitas immediately regrets what he’s done because he can’t bear the warmth in them, the unspoken promise of whatever Noé is willing to give him. He thinks about squirming out of the boy's touch, but he’s started moving his hand already, settling on Vanitas’s eyes. His heart stops. Rotten memories claw at the edge of his mind, hungry hyenas demanding blood and misery that this kind of darkness brings. Before he can lash out and push Noé away, soft moon light illuminates the darkness behind his closed eyes again, and he takes a deep, shaky breath, only now noticing that he’s stopped breathing. His eyes snap open, locking with Noé’s as he brushes black bangs out of Vanitas’s face. The moon shines a halo around Noé when he leans down and kisses his forehead.

    It’s perfect.

    Vanitas hates it.

    He doesn’t move.

    Noé’s lips are surprisingly soft. So is his smell, a faint fragrance of sandalwood with the sharp tint of clove and something coppery hidden under the layers, and there’s nothing better to describe it than home. The realisation cuts him in a sharp, painful flash, one that robs him of the air he’s only just now regained. Noé is careful that no other part of their bodies is touching, and it’s the last act of kindness that pushes something in him into a bottomless, black hole.

    His fingers splay on Noé’s chest as he pushes him away, staring up into a slightly flushed face. The blushing maiden. Despite everything, it makes Vanitas smile.

    “You live dangerous, my friend,” he murmurs, playing with a shirt button close to Noé’s collarbones. “But I will condone it this once. It seems I forgot one gets burned when playing with fire.”

    Noé leans back, one hand beside Vanitas’s head carrying his weight, contemplating. Vanitas already knows whatever he’s going to say, it won’t be good.

    “I never thought of you as someone who would yield to anything,” Noé says eventually. “Not even fire.” And quieter, he adds, “Ignis aurom probat.” Fire tests gold.

    A shudder ripples through Vanitas’s body, stealing his control and causing him to laugh involuntarily because he doesn’t see himself as pure as gold, and Noé is so much more than a simple fire. Noé is a searing blaze, devastating cities and forests and leaving ashes of their self, allowing them to rebuild and regrow and turn away from an unwanted past. Vanitas would gladly sell his soul for such an opportunity, but he’s shackled by the shadow of a little boy half his height with a sweet voice and eyes the fairest blue even the sky envies.

    “You’re quite the charmer, but you do know what they say about gold, don’t you?”

    Noé hesitates, shifting a little, and even Vanitas with the little imagination that he has, can quite clearly picture how the muscles must shift beneath Noé’s dark skin on his back. He closes his eyes and breathes through his mouth. “Gold gives to the ugliest thing a certain charming air, For that without it were else a miserable affair.”

    Noé pales. “I didn’t mean—”

    “Shhh.” Vanitas smiles a smile Lucifer must have worn just seconds before God banished him from Heaven. His eyes don’t leave Noé for a second when he lifts a finger and presses it against Noé’s lips.

    “I know, you didn’t mean to.” He rolls his eyes, voice in a mocking tone imitating what Noé was going to say because he’s easily predictable. “And you would never hurt me. But that makes us different. Because I will gladly hurt you if you let me.” He follows the soft curve of Noé’s lower lip with the tip of his finger until he reaches the corner of his mouth. There he curls his finger inside and pulls one side into a crooked smile. A sharp tooth grazes his skin, not quiet enough to break it, but a shiver travels down his back nonetheless.

    Noé pulls Vanitas’s hand away from his face, looking down at him like he’s a strange animal he’s never seen before. A dull sadness settles over his eyes, but it’s too quick for Vanitas to really acknowledge.

    “Not gold then,” Noé concludes with resolution in his voice. “But quicksilver.” And with that, he places Vanitas’s hand carefully back on his chest, and retreats to his side of the bed, laying down so Vanitas is faced with his broad back, his body completely turned towards the moon.

    Vanitas blinks, stretching out one hand to follow the curve of Noé’s spine in the air with a finger, imagining what it would feel like to curl against this strong body and hold onto something what won’t break under his touch. He stays like that until he hears calm, deep breathing. Only then he lifts that same finger that’s been inside Noé’s mouth to his lips and sucks slowly until his mind talks him into believing it’s actually Noé he tastes.

    I don’t love, he repeats over and over in his head until his eyes fall close and he drifts into a dreamless sleep.

    The next morning starts just like Vanitas has always feared a morning sleeping beside another body would go. Waking up slowly to a woman’s voice in the far distance, he’s still walking on this slim line between sleeping and waking, a coma really, when his conscience registers a heavy arm around his waist and warm breath in his neck. His body locks up into one painful, tense muscle; all desperate instinct and frightened awareness because No, I don’t want Doctor to touch me, and he starts frantically scrabbling for the dagger below his pillow only to find nothing. Vanitas feels punched back to when he’s eleven and caged under Moreau’s heavy, naked body, a choked whimper like a wounded animal leaving his mouth. The arm moves, allowing the tiniest leeway. Vanitas doesn’t think. He swings his arm as hard as he can and hears the satisfying crack of a bone breaking. The man beside him gives a surprised shout, and Vanitas jumps to his feet, ready to break more than bones as the door crashes open at the same time, a woman storming inside.

    “Noé?” Dominique cries, taking in how he's bent forward on the bed, holding his face. It doesn’t stop the blood dripping all over the white sheets, and Vanitas grows cold when her sharp eyes land on him, a furious hate boiling inside them. “What have you done, human?” she hisses, reaching Noé’s hunched form within few steps.

    Vanitas is lost for words, a quite frequent reaction whenever he’s in Noé’s proximity. But it isn’t like anything he’ll say can excuse or save him from Dominique’s wrath, so he just stands there, dumbfounded, and watches her valuate the graveness of Noé’s broken nose, wondering if the man who’s fallen off the roof in the pursuit of his love lost as much blood as Noé right now and if that was worthwhile, or if he’d have rather poisoned himself with quicksilver.

    Not that it matters.

    Both end in a painful, slow death.

I saw pale kings and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci Thee hath in thrall!’

[John Keats]

[nancywheelxr]

For Sokka/Zuko prompts: falling in love + fighting non-bender style

hey, anon, i love you and i hope you like this <3

*

“Come spar with me,” Sokka says, just like that. The sun is setting in the sky and Katara’s food is beginning to stir Momo from his nap, and a few feet away Zuko can see Suki attempting to teach Aang a very basic fighting stance while Toph laughs. 

It still doesn’t explain why Sokka is still there, looking at Zuko like Zuko is the insane one for being doubtful. “Why?”

Sokka flails. “Why– because! Because I’m bored! Because I want to! Because– I don’t know, Zuko, why does anyone do anything?”

“You do realize you would lose, right?” He says instead of trying to parse through his reasons. Only Sokka knows how his mind works and after the awful days spent in the prison, Zuko’s learned it’s no use trying to follow his logic. 

“Excuse me!” Sokka gasps, offended in a way that shows on his whole face, “I’ll have you know, I’ve been trained by a master in the arts! I’ve got a space sword!”

He wonders how liberally the word trained is being used. “Still.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Sokka sharpens in a smirk, arms crossing over his chest, and Zuko watches amused, a little disconcerted at the whiplash between expressions. “You’re scared you’re gonna lose. That’s okay, I get it, I’d be too if I were you.”

It’s not that Zuko doesn’t know he’s being played, he knows, but the challenge is still out there, in the air, and he has never been good at standing down. Sokka’s got him there and he knows it and Zuko knows it and probably even Katara, wherever she is, knows it too. “Fine,” he snaps, scowling because otherwise he’d be smiling and Zuko’s never been very good at that either. At least he thinks so, it’s been a long time, he can’t remember, anyway. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Sokka laughs. “Famous last words.”

*

A friendly spar is not something Zuko remembers doing. Training, yes, or showing off when he thought his father might be looking, or the thing Azula did where sometimes she would tackle him and they would wrestle and pretend it’s not meant to hurt, but not this, not until now.

But it’s nice, too, and it burns off the restlessness that’s settled ever since they left the Boiling Rock, and Zuko aches to think he’d been trying to destroy this sort of thing only weeks ago. His sword clashes with Sokka’s and they glint silver in the rising moon. 

Sokka grins.

In the moonlight, he glows, and Zuko thinks of the boy with war paint on his face standing as tall as he could in the way of a warship, and something in his chest twists and aches again– it’s been a long road to here, but he sees the ocean on Sokka’s eyes just as clear as they had reflected the waves that day. “Tired yet?”

Yes, Zuko wants to say, frighteningly so. “Not a chance,” he replies instead because that’s not what’s been asked, and presses harder, hits him in the ribs hilt-first, smirks like he’s learned.

And so it goes, steady like clockwork.

*

“You know,” Sokka says the next night, “this place is pretty neat, huh?”

Zuko, who knows this temple by heart already from patrolling every night before sleep in the first week, figures neat is probably the understatement of the century. “You could say that.”

“It’s at least on the top three places we camped,” he continues, pushing further on his attacks and forcing Zuko to pull back in defense. Then, his face softens a little, eyes darting fleetingly up at the moon and around the clearing, and this sort of vulnerability, of distraction, is the perfect moment to make his move, but for some reason, Zuko can’t bring himself to do it. Sokka grins ruefully and the whole world goes a little dizzy, “it kind of makes you wish we could stay here forever, doesn’t it?”

Feeling oddly off-tilt, he shrugs, distracted. “I guess,” he shakes his head, hopes to clear it with the whiplash.

Sokka rolls his eyes, lowering his sword. “Well, no need to sound so excited, jeez, I was just saying.”

“Sorry,” Zuko blinks, watches the muscles on his arms work as he reaches for his canteen, watches water spill down his chin, the curve of his neck, and disappear under his shirt. Right. It’s definitely time for a break. 

His own water does little to his dry mouth and it’s only when he tries to nudge their lanterns just a bit brighter but finds the flames flaring up higher, that he notices the racing of his heart hasn’t faded yet. Sokka smiles, and says something about their itinerary, and Zuko listens, and listens, and listens.

*

The Western Air Temple is left behind and it feels awfully final, Sozin’s Comet a hanging threat on the horizon. It won’t be long now.

Zuko sits on Appa’s back and watches Sokka, head bent over a map with his sister, the rising sun painting his skin. At his side, Toph makes a startled noise. “Really, Sparky?”

“What?” He frowns, dragging his eyes away to find her looking at him strangely. His face warms and his hands close into fists, even if he’s not sure why. Half of him kind of hopes Toph tells him, but the other half is terrified of the answer.

She shakes her head, makes a face up at him. “Nothing, just thought you should know– you’re so not subtle.”

It’s not like she’s wrong, but Zuko would still rather know what he’s letting show on his face now. Fear? Sorrow? Anger? 

It doesn’t matter, in the end.

It won’t be long now.

*

After his coronation, it takes Sokka three days to find him in his study, table littered with reports and law texts, an insurmountable mountain of things he must fix, must change, to even begin thinking of reparations. 

“How did you get past my guards?” He asks without looking up from the scroll in his hands. The candle by his elbow flickers, throwing golden shadows across the paper.

Sokka is smiling, Zuko can tell even while turned away, and there’s the rustle of his brushes being shuffled away from the edge as he leans against the table. “I’m like, a war hero now. It gets me places.”

“Suki let you in, then,” Zuko finally allows himself to roll up the scroll, tilt his head up for once to talk with him, and grins. He was right, Sokka is smiling, easy and malleable.

“Like I said, it gets me places,” he shrugs, kicks the leg of his chair, falling serious, “hey, she also said you’ve been here a while.”

Zuko sighs, feeling the exhaustion snaking around his bones, the tight aching on his chest from the branching scar Azula’s lightning left, the unsigned paperwork he left in his quarters this morning. “There’s a lot to do,” he says truthfully.

“Yeah, no shit, but it doesn’t have to be done in a day,” Sokka rolls his eyes, kicks his chair a little harder. There’s a crinkle between his brows and it’s very distracting, it makes Zuko want to reach out and smooth it away, trace the lines until they faded back to someplace peaceful. “And you don’t have to do it all alone either, dumbass. Come on, you need to relax before you combust in one big fireball of stress.”

“I can’t,” he rubs at his eyes, willing the weariness to settle back, and closes them for a second– inhale, exhale. “There’s too much– negotiations will begin soon, they’re sending ambassadors– and the school curriculum, it needs to be revised– and, and–”

“Zuko,” Sokka says, and his voice arrests Zuko’s focus impossibly. Zuko really wishes it didn’t because now he has to look at Sokka, give him his full attention, and it’s overwhelming. The moon is backlighting his figure and Zuko never noticed how much the blue of his clothes, his eyes, stand out in the red and gold of the palace. It makes Zuko’s lungs hiccup and his heart constrict painfully, a warm ache blooming just behind his sternum– a summer tide, heating up his skin against the night chill, and even before he asks, Zuko knows he would give him anything, there’s no choice for him. “Come spar with me?”

Zuko puts out his candle. “Yeah, okay.”

*

“I gotta say,” Sokka says, sword steady on his hands, “this place is a hell of a lot better than that clearing at the temple.”

The practice room has a mat to break their falls without leaving scraped skin behind, at least, and practice swords blunt enough they don’t have to worry about accidentally losing a limb. “The view isn’t all that great, though.”

Something shifts in Sokka’s eyes, softer and warmer. “I don’t know,” he shrugs with painfully fake nonchalance, “it looks pretty great to me.”

There’s a flush rising to his cheeks and Zuko doesn’t understand why for a second, but looks behind his shoulder at the closed doors, frowning, because this sounds like Sokka’s strangely smooth awkward flirting he’s witnessed. “I don’t think Suki can hear you from here,” he feels the need to point out, speaking around the sudden catch on his throat, “and the door’s closed anyway.”

Sokka chokes. “That’s not– I didn’t– what–” a pause as he seems to gather himself, “I didn’t mean Suki. Why would I mean Suki? She’d probably kick my ass for a comment like that, anyway.”

Zuko frowns. “Because she’s your girlfriend?”

Another round of startled coughing. It’s a really good thing those swords are blunt, after all. “We broke up, like, ages ago? After, you know, the comet and everything. It put things into perspective or something, I dunno. It was different, with no war or anything, when it was just us hanging out.”

“Oh,” Zuko clears his throat, something odd fluttering around his chest, and tries to think if there was something different about Suki in the past few days. He doesn’t think so? It’s hard to tell, he’s been busy and she always smiled when she saw him– it did feel like her eyes had grown a little more knowing lately, though, like she knew something he didn’t, but that could probably be his lack of sleep talking. “I’m sorry?”

Sokka snorts. “No that’s rough, buddy, this time?” but before Zuko could apologize for that too, he waves him off, “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I think we just realized we loved each other better as friends. Maybe the fact that both of us are fine is a sign breaking up really was the right thing.”

“Like Mai and I,” he nods, understanding. Being with Mai had been nice, safe and comforting, but when she had taken his hand and told him she would be leaving with Ty Lee, Zuko hadn’t been heartbroken. Mai had smiled, a small pretty thing, and hugged him, face buried on the curve of his neck, and he misses her dearly, but loving someone doesn’t necessarily mean being in love with someone. 

“Yeah,” Sokka twists his sword on his hand, eyes following the arc it makes in the air, and his smile comes in gentle waves, washing over Zuko with its cheeriness. “Now come on, quit stalling– I’m so kicking your ass this time.”

With a sinking dread, Zuko refuses to acknowledge the realization just beyond his fingertips, curling his hands around the hilt of his dao blades fiercely, and ignores the gentle smoke wafting from his palms.

*

Denial doesn’t take him too far, unsurprisingly. His feelings for Sokka have been building without his knowing, a spring that’s grown into a river spilling into the ocean, stretching in all directions, far beyond the horizon line. 

It’s far too late to try and contain now.

Instead, Zuko will just have to learn to carry that around too, board it up away from the light, careful not to let any of it tumble out in the open. In the past, he’s never been very good at keeping his emotions in check, but since the Sun Warriors, he thinks he might be improving a little.

Not that Sokka makes it anywhere easy for him. So far, none of them have left, on the contrary– Katara has taken upon herself to boss the healers around while the injured are slowly trickling in from all over the countries, Aang and Toph have ingrained themselves in every one of his meetings since no one has dared to question their presence yet, and Sokka– well. Sokka seems to be everywhere these days.

Sure, Zuko knows they won’t stay forever, they all have a home to go back to, families to return to, but for now, well.

“Dude, wanna see how many fire flakes I can fit in my mouth?”

For now, there’s Zuko watching Sokka sit by his window, basking in Agni’s light and smiling at him while digging into the flake bowl even though he knows the spice will burn his tongue. “I’m guessing around two before you start crying?”

“It’s not that bad,” Sokka glares, but it’s mellow and gentle, late-afternoon lazy, and Zuko has to forcefully remind himself not to stare. “Yeah, no, okay, it’s bad, it’s bad!”

He pushes the milk he had nicked from the kitchens earlier just in case something like this happened towards him, snickering like he’s not hopelessly endeared. “I did warn you.”

Sokka glowers. “Shut up, I’m building up a resistance.”

“If you say so,” Zuko allows, knowing it will rile him up and make him flush, probably go into a rant, and hides his own smile. Affection bubbles on his chest, I know you, he thinks, I know you by heart.

Predictably, Sokka pushes off his seat, crowding on Zuko to tell him exactly where he could shove his condescension, and Zuko twists on his own chair to face him, an eyebrow raised. It doesn’t slow Sokka down, though, if anything, it inflames him further, makes him take another step forward, slip between his legs to poke at his chest.

“ – and, and,” Sokka trails off, looking down at where his legs have bumped on the chair, and seeming to finally notice how very close they had gravitated. Zuko shifts and his knees graze Sokka’s pants, and his skin seems to burn even through the cloth. Swallowing thickly, he risks looking up, shakily trying to keep a blank expression and feeling the ocean raging around his ribs. Sokka’s eyes are wide and blue, a gentle wave crashing on the sand, and any words die on his tongue. “So, uh.”

He hums questioningly, one hand clinging to the table edge, undoubtedly leaving soot burned handprints behind.

“I, erm, forgot what I was going to say,” Sokka admits quietly, and Zuko wants to think his gaze has slipped down to his mouth for half a second there, but it’s very hard to think when they’re close like this and if neither of them moves soon, he fears his chest might crack open like ice, spilling his love all over the floor, heart falling at their feet, bruised and stitched up as it is. “Hey,” he nudges his knee.

Zuko burns. “Hi?”

“I think– I think I’m gonna do something real stupid right now,” he says, “and I’m really hoping you won’t hate me for this later.”

There’s no hating you, Zuko wants to say, because he’s been falling since, perhaps, the South Pole, and by now, there’s no stopping. His feelings are an ocean and Zuko’ll drown in them.

Sokka doesn’t want a reply, though. He exhales shakily and suddenly, his hands are on Zuko’s cheeks and Sokka is leaning down, kissing Zuko. Lightning sizzles inside him and you don’t stare at the sun, so Zuko closes his eyes, hands closing on Sokka’s waist to draw him closer, feeling like he might die from this, would gladly die for this. 

“Hey,” Sokka says again, pulling away, and Zuko chases him that inch, a pull and push of tides, and there’s breathlessness in the air they share, “so, no hating, uh.”

Zuko touches skin under his shirt and feels Sokka shiver under his hands. “What do you think,” he murmurs, so painfully fond that his whole self aches with it, “I love you, dumbass.”

Sokka laughs, light and bright, like sea foam, and kisses him again, and again, and again, like he knows Zuko has been walking around with all these impossible wantings inside him and now there’s a hollowness that leaves him afraid he might float up if untethered. Like he knows Zuko’s never thought he’d get to have this, to be this happy. “You’re such a jerk,” he says, “I love you too,” a kiss, a hand tangling on his hair, his heart, bursting, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

[its-sixxers]

Tandreth and the Dragon

Idunn, Dragonborn, has Tandreth, Grandmaster of the Thieves’ Guild, as her captive. Taking him to Windhelm for judgement after he fails to steal from her, fate has different plans in store - and a lifelong thief makes a choice of selflessness that will change his life forever. A hero dies, and another lives.

--

Tandreth’s nose had begun to itch.

The bruise the great ox of a woman in front of him had given him was starting to fade, and with healing flesh came the itch. He wanted to scratch it desperately, but his hands were bound - and the woman in front of him held his leash. Idunn, her name was - not uncommon among Nords, and though she was a little smaller than her kinsmen she made up for it with her bullheadedness. All he’d done was try to snatch the silver amulet around her neck - and she’d taken it upon herself to drag him back to Windhelm to be prosecuted for it.

They were only just within the border of Eastmarch when she’d caught him, and three days on the road saw them making slow progress through the jarling’s hydrothermal plains. Three times he’d attempted to escape, and three times he’d been pinned to the ground with her fist raised and threatening to break his nose.

He liked his nose - it being intact was a point of pride for him, and so he resigned himself to managing a prison break from the Stormcloak’s cells.

Tandreth kicked a pebble down the path in front of them, knowing it would annoy his captor. It was all the rebellion he was able to have - bothering both his captor and her horse. The beast was a beautiful dapple-grey, beloved by its owner and loaded with saddlebags. He wondered if it was her only friend in the world, and was tempted to say so - but decided that such a cruel remark was best saved for when he needed to cut with words. 

Besides, it wasn’t as if he had much room to talk. He hadn’t even a horse - long lived as he was, animals died quickly. Men only died slightly less quickly. Loss was something he’d spent his life trying to avoid - he’d tasted enough of it.

His gaze followed the line of rope from his bonds to Idunn’s free hand, resentment bubbling in him. It was all a giant waste of time, yet here they were - a thief, an ox, and a horse. The start of a bad joke travelling north to Windhelm, the stench of Eastmarch’s hot springs thick and pungent as overcooked eggs.

“Could you just save me the trouble and kill me here?” he finally broke the silence, resentment boiling over. “My feet hurt, and I think the stench is going to drive me mad.”

“Then you can greet Sheogorath for me.” Idunn said dismissively, his attempts to annoy her sliding off as ever. It was like throwing snowballs at a wall. “You made your choice.”

“Do you arrest everyone who gets up to a little mischief?”

“I try to uphold justice where I can. What you did was not mischief.”

“I was only trying to see if I could. I wasn’t actually going to steal your trinket. I’ve just been sitting on my laurels, you see - taking a necklace from a sleeping woman was a challenge. I’d have placed it neatly on your nightstand and left a reassured man.”

“Is your ego that fragile?”

“Yes.”

Idunn turned her head at his answer, frowning humorlessly. He hadn’t seen her smile once since their trip began - though he knew his ribbing wasn’t helping matters there. 

“You know, I’ve been purposely tied up in more compromising situations than this.” Tandreth continued, knowing this line of conversation made her uncomfortable and relishing in it. “I admire your tenacity with how tight you’ve made these bindings -” He wiggled his hands for emphasis, his wrists itching from the rope tied around them. “- but I could teach you a more elegant -”

Idunn stopped in her tracks and raised her hand, and with a thrill he thought she was going to hit him. He quickly realized it was meant to quiet him, however, as a faint noise echoed in the distance. For once he decided to follow her instruction, curiosity keeping him silent. The noise happened again - thunder, he thought, though there were no clouds in the sky. Idunn’s already pale face went a little paler as the thunder went on longer than Tandreth had ever heard in his centuries of life - and then the thunder did something thunder never did.

It changed in pitch, as if alive. As if a roar.

His captor dropped the rope she led him by and unsheathed her hunting knife from her belt. If it were anyone else the gesture would have him running, but Idunn was a Nord, and killing a bound opponent would be a black mark against their ever important honor. Fool’s honor, in his experience.

To his surprise, her knife cut through his bonds. Tandreth smiled in relief and rubbed at his wrists, but his good humor was dampened by yet another roll of roar-thunder. Idunn took the reins of her horse in hand, and he thought they were going to ride to safety - but instead she thrust them into his hands and pointed to a rocky outcropping some distance off the road. It was ringed with great standing stones, offering more than enough cover for both him and the horse, and Tandreth connected the dots before Idunn gave her instruction.

“Hide. No matter what. If I die, wait until the beast is gone.” she spoke, just as he saw a black figure rise over the mountains in the horizon. Idunn saw it too, and sharply inhaled - a fool might think the figure a bird, but at such a distance it was far too large. 

Tandreth had heard the rumors, but never had he thought he’d see with his own eyes.

A dragon.

“No, no no.” Tandreth said quickly. “You don’t fight something like that. We need to ride, find shelter- “

“It will find me.” Idunn replied just as sharply. “Hide. Trust me.”

Hiding was what he was best at, but trust was something he never gave. Still, the shadow in the sky was growing larger and he wasn’t so willing to throw his life away as she was. Tandreth sprinted to the stones, another louder roll of thunder cracking through the sky - the sound was closer yet still a mix of the natural and organic, elements interweaved. Idunn’s horse followed him without him needing to tug on the reins, likely as terrified as he was.

He glanced back to see Idunn still standing in the path. She’d drawn her warhammer and held it in both hands, staring defiantly upward at the approaching shadow in the sky like something out of the wall carvings in so many old tombs. Tandreth turned his focus back to the path in front of him, dreading what he’d see next.

He made it to the stones just as the wingbeats of the dragon became audible. The standing stones were purposely placed, he realized, for there was a weathered and ancient shrine within their borders. On an old stone altar he recognized the small statue of Akatosh, carved from pure obsidian. For a fleeting moment he smiled at the sick humor of it before the great beating of wings filled him with fear once again. He flattened himself against the stone of an arch, Idunn’s horse sheltering under it with him, and against his better judgement he peeked around its side.

The dragon was close enough that its shadow fell across the path Idunn stood on, so large it made Tandreth’s stomach flip. Its scales glinted in the sun as it circled overhead - it must have spotted Idunn, for it roared so loudly his ears rang. To his horror, it dipped downward midflight, approaching the ground at a speed far too fast for such a large creature. 

Idunn stood fast even as the beast opened its mouth, and Tandreth bit his tongue to keep from crying out as a stream of flames shot out from the back of the dragon’s throat. Liquid fire spilled forth aimed directly at Idunn - but before they made contact she shouted in a tongue he’d never heard of or known. Her voice was like a clarion bell, powerful and clear - and to his awe the flames flowed around her as if around a shield.

It was then he realized Idunn was dragonborn, and a new kind of horror settled within him.

Tandreth had known another chosen by fate, and he knew what fate did to such a person. The familiarity made him want to jump in the saddle and run, but he knew he’d long since missed his chance.

Instead, all he could do was watch Idunn and the dragon do battle. The creature was huge - judging by the tension in Idunn’s stance, it was larger than even she had seen. It kept trying to blast her with flames, but she kept up with its attempts with startling reflexes. It was a shouting match, her clear voice answering each rasping roar. Eventually the beast seemed to tire of her antics, and settled on the ground to do battle with tooth and claw. It tried to bite at her, its great jaw snapping like cracks of nearby thunder - but it earned a warhammer to the jaw each time for its trouble. Idunn swung her weapon with precision, striking the same point on the beast’s jaw each time. Tandreth realized her focus was an attempt to crack the beast’s face plating, hard and shining like steel.

Idunn’s last hit managed to crack the faceplate open, scales and dragonflesh falling to the ground. It roared and took off before she could drive her hammer into the exposed flesh beneath, and Idunn roared back in frustration. 

The next time the dragon opens its mouth a great wind echoed out with its cry, nearly knocking Tandreth from his post. Idunn stood firm - she shouted back with a blast of wind of her own, the power of her voice causing the dragon to waver in the sky. 

Tandreth understood with terrible clarity the tales of Ulfric shouting Torygg to pieces. Such power he’d never seen in his life - not even at his sister’s hands, the knowledge of Ashlands magic at her disposal.

Idunn was tiring with each shout - he could see it in her posture, how her warhammer seemed to be growing heavy in her arms. He could hear it in her voice - it was growing hoarse and weak. For a few minutes he thought, ridiculously, that she might have a chance against such a creature. Now he realized he was likely to see her die.

He looked around desperately for escape routes, a familiar panic settling in. It wasn’t fear for his own life that had him wanting to run - he’d been fearing death the past few minutes and stayed rooted to the spot. No, there was something else that filled him with greater fear than anything else, a fear that was rooted in his bones.

He didn’t want to watch her die.

His search for escape was quickly routed, however, for the dragon landed again, clearly sensing Idunn’s flagging stamina. The next time it roared, Idunn screamed in pain with it - he watched the flames break through her shouted shield at the last instant, the heat so intense he could feel it from his hiding place and staggering Idunn. The dragon followed it with a swipe of its claws, peeling open her breastplate as if it were scrib chitin. Idunn staggered back before falling to the ground, her warhammer clanking against the worn cobblestone.

It was over. Tandreth knew that if he remained hidden he had a strong chance of survival - Idunn had told him as much, had instructed him as much. At first he’d followed her instructions gladly, thinking her a fool - but she hadn’t died instantly to the dragon. She wasn’t a fool. She was dragonborn - and perhaps if it wasn’t for him distracting her and wearing her down, she would have succeeded in her battle.

If he did as she said, he knew it would result in her death. If he didn’t, it’d result in his.

Helplessness was a feeling he’d spent over a hundred years running from, and now it had settled over him in force. Tandreth’s bow was tied to the saddle, but for all of his years of experience - for those golden days he was his tribe’s star hunter, an aspiring ashkhan - against the dragon’s steel hide even his arrows would be of little use.

There was nothing he could do, and yet he did not wish to believe it. 

Help. His heart shouted as loud as Idunn did. Daedra, ancestors, someone, please -

Tandreth’s thoughts were cut off by a sudden flash of light, blinding him. The dragon roared again, and he thought it was over well and truly. But there was no snap of bone, no heat of flame, no rending of steel. When he regained his sight there was a ghostly armored figure walking away from him toward the dragon, shining silver as the moon and holding a spear blazing bright and fierce as the stars.

A spear he knew. A lump formed in his throat. He had summoned ancestor spirits out of fear before, but never one he recognized. The ghost could be one of two of his blood - and he hoped desperately it was the elder.

The dragon stood over Idunn’s prone form, its attention diverted toward the ghostly figure - and Tandreth. Its wings raised, beating as it began to take off and sending great gusts of wind with each sweep. Before it could lift into the sky, however, the ghostly figure threw its spear. It pierced the dragon’s wing, and on making contact ignited the entire limb with flame. The dragon screamed rather than roared, and fell back to the ground.

The ghost approached the fallen dragon and pulled its spear from the wing while the dragon howled on the ground, the magical flames fading and leaving a melted mess of scales and flesh in their wake. The dragon tried to snap at its new opponent, but its teeth only moved through the ghost’s ethereal form.

In spite of himself Tandreth squinted against the ghost’s shining light, trying to make out its features. It looked like an Ordinator, those guards he’d seen only in childhood and illustrations - but the armor was too old, too well-worn. Tandreth knew who the Ordinators were meant to emulate. He knew the figure before him was too slight, too small to be the patriarch of House Indoril himself. He realized with ice in his veins who the ancestral spirit was.

The Nerevarine.

Mother.

It had been sixty years since she’d last been seen, and now her ghost stood before him with her spear in hand. The woman who had killed a god. Dead.

She watched the dragon thrash and raised her spear up once more. With careful aim, she threw it at the beast’s head. The blazing spear pierced where Idunn had broken the beast’s faceplate, moving through exposed flesh and impaling it through the skull. All at once, the dragon’s roars were silenced. It collapsed to the ground in a limp heap.

His mother’s ghost pulled her spear from the creature’s skull and turned to look at him. Tandreth could not see her face under her helmet, but he didn’t need to. She lifted her free hand and placed it over her heart, a farewell he’d seen so many times. A gesture she’d made at the docks, over and over, leaving him and his sister behind while she tried to save their people. Tandreth wanted to cry out, to scream at her for leaving again, for leaving forever - but only a moment later her ghost faded.

In the sudden silence he could hear Idunn whimpering in pain, sounding the opposite of the powerful figure he’d seen shouting down a dragon. Setting his roiling emotions aside, Tandreth scrambled over to her frantic horse, doing his best to calm it so he could grab a healing potion from the saddlebags. With the potion in hand, he turned to run over to Idunn - but the sight that greeted him was extraordinary enough to stop him in his tracks. 

The dragon’s scales and flesh were turning to glowing mist, flowing down toward Idunn. He watched transfixed as the mist wrapped itself around her like a cloak, flowing into her eyes, her nostrils, her mouth. Idunn tipped her head back, gasping and shuddering as the essence flowed into her until only bones remained of the great beast. With the mist gone, Idunn collapsed fully to the ground.

It jolted Tandreth back to action, and he raced toward her. Blood was pouring out from the tear in her breastplate, and he feared she had a punctured lung from how she was wheezing. Tears of pain were streaming down her face, but she was trying her best not to whimper.

“Here.” he said, kneeling beside her. He uncorked the potion and placed his hand on the back of her head to support it - momentarily marvelling at how such a warrior had such soft hair, the auburn strands a contrast against his dark blue skin. He tipped the potion bottle to her lips with his other hand - shaking from adrenaline. All sensation was heightened, the sight he’d just witnessed sending his mind reeling. Idunn drank the healing mixture greedily, and gained a small amount of awareness. It wasn’t enough - not nearly enough - but it’d keep her from death’s door for a little while longer.

“You should have run.” she said weakly - using what little strength she had to speak. It echoed his own thoughts only minutes ago - but she was not scolding him. There was pride in her eyes beyond the pain. He hated it.

“I’ve seen too much death.” he responded quietly, so quietly he hoped she wouldn’t hear. He raised his voice. “You need a good healer. The nearest ones I know are at the temple in Windhelm.” The temple of Talos, another hero-god, another alleged dragonborn - and Tandreth fought against what felt like fate’s hand.

Idunn was pale before the blood loss, but seemed even paler in that moment. Windhelm was still days away, and he knew she feared how long the journey would take. Yet her expression turned to that same stubborn one he’d seen when he first met her, when the innkeeper questioned why she was taking a petty thief all the way to Windhelm. She nodded. Idunn tried weakly to unfasten the bindings on her torn breastplate so she could move, but Tandreth nudged her hands away and started to do it himself.

“I’m not going to steal your armor.” he reassured her, at the sight of her wide eyes. What would Raansi do, he thought, trying to remember his sister’s methods as a healer. All he could do was offer Idunn a smile, an attempt at normalcy.

It worked, and she blinked back her tears of pain while he worked the breastplate off of her. There was a great gouge taken out of her lower chest, and it was bleeding heavily - but her armor had protected her from the worst of the dragon’s wrath. If he could get her to Windhelm before infection and fever claimed her, she’d survive. Tandreth hastily untied his silk sash from his waist, binding her ribs with the colorful patterned fabric. It cost as much as her warhammer, he was certain - and he was staining it with her blood.

“You’re… a strange thief.” Idunn murmured, face ashen as she watched him work. Her green eyes were growing unfocused. Time - Akatosh’s domain - was not on their side.

He decided he hated dragons.

Tandreth looped his arm under her shoulders and helped her to her feet, struck by the weight of her as she leaned against him. Even with her injured, her warmth and solid form against him was oddly comforting - it had been too long since he’d allowed another to touch him, since he’d touched another, and he missed the feeling of safety. He needed to make haste, or her warmth would fade. “I’m a lot of things, dragonborn.” he grinned at her, joking to take the edge off his nerves. “I’ll take strange over the other things you’ve called me.”

Idunn managed a weak laugh as he helped her to her still-nervous horse - and it’s a wonderful sound to his ears, her smile softening her hard features into something quite pleasant. It took all of her energy and a boost from him to help her into the saddle, where she wavered dangerously in place. He gathered up her dropped warhammer and breastplate and quickly affixed them to the saddlebags. By the time he did so, Idunn was slumping forward in the saddle. He hastily put his foot in the stirrup and took his place behind her, taking the reins in hand. His arms were at either side of her body, keeping her steady even as consciousness faded from her. 

“Stay with me, dragonborn.” Tandreth remembered one thing from his sister’s lessons - that as long as Idunn was conscious she had a better chance to fight the punishment her body had taken. “If you die I’m taking your things.”

There was a murmur of protest from her. He tapped his heels against the horse’s flank, and the mare quickly began to move, eager to leave the dragon behind.

Tandreth glanced back at the bones, and the cracked skull his mother’s spear had penetrated. He swallowed - he wanted to leave Idunn in Windhelm with the priests and flee back for the comfort of the Rift, but the ghost he’d seen had reignited his flagging sense of duty.

His mother was dead, and his mind was fleeing from the grief approaching him like a black fog. But he couldn’t run - not when he wasn’t the only one who suffered. Not when he wasn’t the only one who needed to know what he had seen.

Tandreth’s journey would not cease at Windhelm. He couldn’t turn back after seeking help for the dragonborn however much he wished to.

For the second time, he was to head to Winterhold with grim news.

For the second time, he’d watch his sister’s heart break.

The Nerevarine was dead, and her twin children were the only souls left alive left to grieve her.

[neocity-sarai]

Aincrad

♔ reader x bang chan (sword art online! au)

♔ alerts: language, injuries, making out, angst, blood, a teaser!- not sure if I’m writing a whole fic on it

♔ song rec: paper moon by tommy heavenly 6

Two whole years. Two years that you’ve been in this death game, Sword Art Online. Two years since you’ve slipped on your NerveGear in your bedroom and haven’t taken it off because if you had, your brain would be fried. It’s been that long that all the players haven’t existed in reality, feeling things that aren’t considered “real.” What is real anymore? Emotions? Physical bodies? It all blurs together. Countless lives lost in fighting to escape death. For those who were faint in the heart, they didn’t survive. They couldn’t live in a virtual world where everything seemed beautiful-- but it’s all just a mask for the greater cause-- the fate that decides who gets to live and die in such a world. 

You were almost certain that you couldn’t survive. You were never one for vigorous sports, you never had formal training in fighting either. That was until you saw Chan. Chan was seen as a god even if he didn’t want people to see him that way. Chan wore a cloak that was the color of the darkest of mid nights, an obsidian blade sheathed on his back. Everyone called him the Black Swordsman. To you, it was just some meaningless title, you didn’t know who he was. All you knew was that players would beg him to be in their guilds, knowing he’d be good at floor raids- boss battles even. The truth is, he’s so hidden among the shadows that no one really knows the extent of his skills. He’s shrouded in mystery, dark eyes scanning the playing field like a hawk. It annoyed you how so many female players pined after his pretty face, brunette locks and sharp eyes, strong features that were sculpted like ice. Like a villain, he had a prominent scar that cut through his eyebrow, the village players gossip that it was because of a squabble with one of the beta testers. He won, of course. That day, you swore you’d stay away from people like him-- people who can’t be predicted.

“Y/n, don’t- don’t go.”

You shake your head, “Chan, I have to go. Don’t worry, alright? Don’t worry about me.”

Chan looks up at you with pleading eyes, his body paralyzed from a hit he took by the monster boss in front of you. You, the vice commander of the Knights of the Blood Oath- the guild that always fought on the front lines. You swore to yourself that you wanted to get Chan to the real world, you had found a purpose to protect someone that was special to you, even if it meant sacrifice. It was always like you to fight for those who couldn’t fight themselves. Chan was like that too, you knew he’d do the same for you.

Chan’s health and XP bar glows above him, the green fading into a neon yellow. Chan’s body is sprawled out next to you, his face in your hands. Momentarily, you set down your white rose rapier, the sword that is laced with your skill and touch. 

Chan begs you even further, “Please, y/n, please. Just wait a little longer and I can handle it!”

You gaze around you. You, Chan, and the Knights of the Blood Oath took upon the mission to clear a dungeon level, trying to reach the goal of escaping Aincrad. Little did you all know that the creator had rigged the floor with traps and pop-up bosses, ambushing you in an enclosed chamber. It really was a fight of life or death, survival and sacrifice. 

Your comrades fall in agony, blades swinging at the level 60 goblins that are ten times the size of humans. Some people scream, their bodies shattering into glass shards when their health bars slip into the red zone, disappearing into nothing. There’s no other option. 

Your eyes start to well up with tears, “Chan, I have to go, I’m not letting you die here!”

Chan grunts, his brows furrowed with distress as he tries to break out of the paralysis. He tries to lift his sword, his muscles not listening to his mind. You take it upon yourself to fix this- maybe not even fix it- save what’s left of your guild.

Chan turns towards you, his head shaking in refusal, “Just let me help, give me more time.”

Leaning down at him, you use your gloved hand to wipe his tears away. Like that, you hold your breath. You kiss Chan like you would if you were in the real world, refusing to call the emotion what you feel for Chan as an alternate reality. He whimpers, groans into the kiss, your hair clawing through his dark hair. Chan sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, making you whine for him. It’s a clash of tongues against tongues and tears, your heart beating from the adrenaline of the fight and for the passion that sparks between you. Finally, you hear Chan mumble against your lips, “Please stay with me.”

That’s when you hear a snap. Now. You push him away forcibly, your lips ghosting by his ear, “I’m sorry.”

You grab the hilt of your rapier, the white rose blossoming at the intersection of the handle. When you run back towards the werewolf-like beast boss, you shut your eyes when you hear Chan cream your name. His yells are uncontrollable, violent- they almost make you want to turn back. But you don’t. Instead, you run as fast as you can, the soles of your boots crackling with lightning. Your blade starts to glow the color of fire, oranges and golds dancing with each other. Your eyes burn with fury, a rising feeling in the pit of your stomach. You know what it is- the feeling of the power from within you. Letting out a yell, you run up the air as you use your jump command, diving your blade into the head of the beast. The beast roars in pain, it’s health bar shifting from yellow to red before exploding into sparkling fragments. You flick your blade, sheathing it at your belt. Then, you hear Chan’s scream.

“Y/n!”

The scarred claw of the six-headed dragon boss is coming right for you. There’s no time to move, no time to think either. Like a stormy flash, Chan’s figure blocks you from the claw, his blade shining silver and surging deeper into the monster’s palm. Chan’s midnight cape flies behind him like a knight in shining armor, a smirk scribbled on his face. You read his lips, “You didn’t think I was going to let you fight alone, did you?”

The monster lets out a bellow, swinging it’s demon tail down at the other members of your guild, their metal shield colliding with it’s scales. In that moment, Chan grabs your hand, “Together, yeah?”

You nod at him with determination, your grip tightening on your sword.