#and i couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you so our souls brought me back and now i’m this and i’m HERE

[coredrill]

so like. how many times do you think smith has heard isami say he doesn’t trust bravern and then tried really hard to change that when he becomes bravern only to wind up with the same outcome every single time

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Other Side - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 1.6k+

Summary: 

I shot back, then she told me I should speak up "I can't even hear you through the speaker"

Alternatively, 

No matter how much Yoongi had been trying to compile his focus and pour it all on Gyuri, his mind kept reeling back to you.

Warnings: angst, yoongi is a dilemma, he is suffering quite a lot too.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

A/N: Very first Yoongi's POV.

Taglist requests are closed for now

Read the next chapter

It is a human instinct to seek for what we don’t have and try to get our hands on it. 

Be it tangible or intangible - human beings will always run after what they don’t own and what they think they need. 

Yoongi is a human. 

So he, too, ran after everything he is not, everything he thought would fill the gaps of his soul, fit like a missing piece of a puzzle and make him whole. 

Hence, he fell in love with Lee Gyuri. 

Given the fact that Gyuri is everything he is not, he thought she would make him a perfect sphere. He thought his imperfectly titled earth would stand straight and spin round.

However, alarms of his mind set off very loudly whenever Gyuri brought forth the topic of marriage and kids and living together. 

He himself came from a broken family. He witnessed how his father and mother were once so in love but then suddenly they were drifting apart. 

A part of him believes that marriage ruins love. And he wanted to stay in love, without having to exchange vows and reproduce another life. 

But to his dismay, Gyuri thought his idea of love was absolutely absurd and it doesn’t make any sense. In the end, she decided to leave him, saying that his cold shoulders are hard to take, his distant persona hurt her beyond measure and that she thinks she’s the only one who is keeping this relationship alive. 

Hence, his four year old relationship came to an end just like that. 

Gyuri walked away and she took the larger part of yoongi with her. The part that was left, was unable to fall in love, unable to feel anything concrete, just unable to process human connection anymore. 

If Gyuri thought he never loved her properly, she should have seen him after her departure. Yoongi was devastated, broken, shattered beyond repair - and you only fall too hard when you climb too high, you only break too much when you love too hard. 

Yoongi wished Gyuri knew.  

For once Yoongi wished to be seen. 

And Yoongi felt seen. 

Yoongi felt the feeling of being seen in every corner of his skin, deep in his bones each and every time you looked at him with those knowing eyes. 

Ever since that night you picked him up, you have always looked at him with kindness. There was no pity, no curiosity in your eyes to unsettle him. 

If he dares to add then he has perceived affection in those eyes of yours. And by some magical force, you made him open up - something even Gyuri couldn’t do. 

If he is honest enough to admit then he would say that he was afraid of opening up to his former girlfriend, what if she ran away (which she did regardless).

But somehow you felt like a safe space - he could show the real him, the one that is scared and weak, and you wouldn’t judge him, you would embrace him (which you did every single time). 

And that is what kept him coming back to you again and again. 

Those quiet nights of shared understandings soon turned into something more - skin on skin, hands on body, mouth on mouth. Yoongi hated none of it. 

Yoongi started liking it all way too much. 

Soon enough he realized, it’s not always important to fill up each gap, to seek for a person who is everything we are not. 

Sometimes peace comes from alikeness. 

Sometimes peace comes from someone very much like you. 

And you are very much like him. 

Just like him you, too, belong to a broken family, prone to close yourself up around people, you don’t laugh too loud, talk too loud, you don’t say things you don’t mean. 

You like maintaining a distance. 

You like to hide behind a facade. 

Again, you are just like him. 

Even after knowing his views towards commitment, you never questioned him once. You never asked why he thinks what he thinks. You never once asked for anything more than what he could offer. You never demanded recognition from him. 

You never said anything but still Yoongi knew that you were falling in love with him. 

And right on that moment he knew - you would have been the one for him. Only if you two could travel to a parallel universe, where he wasn’t so pathetically in love with Gyuri, he would allow himself to fall for you. 

That day when Gyuri came back, when she gracefully stepped into his life again as if nothing happened - he didn’t know what to feel or what he was feeling. 

He didn’t know what if he was more happy or more regretful that the sand castle he built with you was about to tumble down sooner than he expected. 

He always feared waves but Gyuri in the shape of a wave - he both feared and loathed it. 

His sense of fear and resentment heightened when he felt you touching his knee under the table. You are just too kind, way too kind for your own good. 

You stayed in this arrangement even after knowing Yoongi wouldn’t be able to return your feelings and you were still trying to comfort him when you yourself knew things were coming to an inevitable end. 

At that moment Yoongi wished he never loved Gyuri to begin with. 

“I will not force you to do anything you don’t want, Yoongi. I promise, I will not fight. Let’s give each other another chance please. I- I have been missing you terribly.” Gyuri had said standing behind the closed wooden door of the meeting room. 

Yoongi’s heart lurched inside his chest a bit. 

But it’s not the flattering kind. 

When he looked into her eyes, he found sincerity but he couldn’t see himself reflecting in them. 

That is why he said, “I don’t know, Gyuri. I don’t think it will be ideal for us -” 

“I know the damage is done. But please please let’s try once more. Three months, let’s try for three months, for the sake of old times, our memories, for our love. I love you, Yoongi. And I know you love me too. So, please.” Gyuri had cut him off desperately. 

Yoongi thought then. Getting into this trial with Gyuri would mean leaving you behind. Leaving you behind would mean setting you free from his grasps. 

If Yoongi sets you free, you can move on and find everything that he can’t provide you with - love, a lover, maybe even a home. 

So he had said yes.

“I love you so much.” Gyuri murmured on his chest. 

“I love you too.” Yoongi didn’t mean it. 

“.... but the lyrics just won’t come out. I have been trying to write ….” 

For a fleeting moment, Yoongi heard Gyuri saying something about the lyrics but his brain didn’t register anything solid. 

He had been zoning out, staring at the door, waiting for you to come in with your notebook and ipad, give everyone a tight-lipped smile and a muffled greeting and settle somewhere near him. But you were nowhere to be found.  

When the door creaked open, his heart creaked too, only to be disappointed when Namjoon slipped in. 

A moment later his heart creaked and cracked even more when Namjoon announced you had withdrawn from the project. 

He should have felt relieved then. This is what he wanted, he wanted to set you free from his painful grip. 

But that didn't mean he wouldn’t feel an unexplainable pain in his chest. 

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel something important sliding through his fingers. 

At that moment Yoongi realized, he did the forbidden. 

He got attached to you. 

Every pore in Yoongi’s body oozed relief when he saw you for the first time in a month. 

You look distressed but you look beautiful regardless. 

He tried his best to appear nonchalant, stoic so that you don’t get a hint of the tempest that had been raging inside of him. 

No matter how much he had been trying to compile his focus and pour it all on Gyuri, his mind kept reeling back to you - how you silently cried with him that night, how you didn’t hold him back when he left, how you didn’t object when he ended it all. 

For once he wished you wouldn’t be so much like him. 

For once he wished for you to ask something more from him. 

“I can take care of it myself, Yoongi. You have a life to lead, you have better days ahead now, why would you even care about me? I was just a fleeting chapter anyway. Please- please don’t act like our time together meant anything to you. Please, I beg.” you broke down right before his eyes. 

If he is reading between the lines properly then is that animosity? 

Are you angry with him? 

If he riles you up more will you confess? Will you ask for more?

Will you… will you ask him to come back? His thoughts swirled inside him making him feel dizzy.

“wasn’t it a given? A silent agreement that our time together wouldn’t mean much to any of us?” he pushed you more, even though he knew it wasn’t the right thing to say but he tried to pull the truth or the demand or whatever might it be, out of you. 

And he didn’t even know why? 

What does he even want? 

Does he want you? Even the thought of wanting someone other than Gyuri scared him to death. 

You nodded, “Yeah. You are right. Forget I have said anything. Bye.” 

And with that you were gone. 

For the second time in life Yoongi faced a loss. 

However, unlike the first time, this time it was his fault. This time, he knew, a second chance would probably never come by. 

He should have felt relief. 

He felt a prospect of quiet, peaceful love sliding through his fingers instead.

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[ma1dita]

about you

this was a request! read it here

words: 4.3k (longest one yet ohmy)

summary: james potter takes ‘easier’ for granted and finds out he now has a living reminder of that

warnings: none! sort of au, everyone lives and they win the war— angst angst angst, maybe open ended!!! groveling james and reader is a MOTHA (afab!)

a/n: guys i missed writing angst…i’m a deeply sad soul at heart so i enjoyed this a lot. I listened to ‘night shift’ by lucy dacus writing the first half, and ‘about you’ by the 1975 for the second half,,,,, both on repeat. i don’t mean to post at ungodly hours but i hope you enjoy!

posted: 11/11/23

—-

Insecurity is an ugly thing. It tugs at your frame, holding your shoulders hostage and your countenance shriveled in a scowl as you slink forward in your seat. But what should the rational reaction be when your boyfriend, the one you’ve planned out the rest of your life with— takes you out to dinner on a random Tuesday and then decidedly backtracks on everything you’ve built together? Your ears are ringing loudly, and you dumbly ask him to repeat himself when he says he wants to take a break.

“So that’s it then. You’ve made your decision and I just have to be okay with losing a year and a half of my life because you aren’t sure if you love me?” Your tone cuts through the fraying tether that holds you two together in the corner booth.

James for once, is at a loss for words. He wasn’t really sure of what to expect when he brought you here tonight, but any reaction to his admission was bound to hurt the both of you. You had to have known about his hesitations. Graduation was three weeks away, and everything was about to change, whether either of you liked it or not. Stupidly enough, James does love you, but that’s not the problem. The proximity he’s had as Head Boy working with Lily Evans makes him wonder if the life he lives is what’s meant for him. It keeps him up at night, gnawing at his resolve and comfort in being with you. He feels ungrateful to have it so easy. Loving you is easy. But the imposter syndrome sneaks into his room late at night in the form of ‘what if’.

“I…it’s just the timing of it all. We’re about to leave Hogwarts, and I don’t want to tie you down if I know I’m unsure of my—our future.”

He reaches out to grab your hand, and many a time ago, his sense of awareness was what you admired about him. You’d both get this familiar feeling of needing comfort, and within a minute, your fingers would intuitively find the other’s like it was second nature. Now, the thought of his touch might make you break his hand off to serve on a silver platter.

“Fuck your timing. If you think it’s as easy as making the decision to just quit while we’re ahead…. I love you. Don’t you…Is that not—” 

You clear your throat, the fire in your indignation being stifled by the whimpering feeling of knowing this was going to happen. The understanding of his plight, the knowing that he wants more. You could see it in the way his eyes wander when you all hang out, and you could feel it when he needs time to himself before bed, letting you back to your common room in the late hours alone. Screw your heart for appealing to his indecisiveness, his fear, when the final blow is aimed at the relationship you both once wanted together. Head Boy and Head Girl share living quarters after all. What chance did you stand against the girl he fell asleep a room away from? Maybe he dreams of her too, what you couldn’t give and what more she has to offer. 

“Tell me something James,” you choke as your body heaves with something akin to nausea. Being lovesick isn’t as romantic as it seems. The hopeless feeling in your tummy throbs as you clench your fists to keep it all down.

“Whatever you want.” 

His reply makes you laugh, desolation gripping your esophagus. Who knew feeling empty would feel like drowning? There is no more air left in your lungs that it almost incapacitates you, your last breath spilling out your final ask of him.

“Do you love me? What did I do?” 

The noise and chatter around you seems to fall silent as he zeroes in on your face, crestfallen from the words that leave your lips. It isn’t your fault, but how can he tell you that? At 18, he’s feeling stifled by the privilege of having his life all planned out for him. He knows people spend their lives searching for contentment but James can’t decipher if he’s right for all of this pressure falling upon his shoulders. The societal heir of his father’s business empire. The face of the upcoming war, bringing in a new generation of soldiers to fight. 

Deep inside, he’s a wild spirit just wanting to live, to be free. And it scares him that you’d follow him to the ends of the Earth, that there isn’t much thinking involved, just doing. The lack of autonomy stifles his soul. How does one know if they’re meant for more? James doesn’t want you to have to suffer the consequences if he can’t figure it out himself.

“I love you honey. So much it hurts me. I just wonder if it’s enough.” 

Your hands clatter onto the table, bumping your half-empty pint of butterbeer as you gather your things, shoving them into your knapsack as his final blow hits your senses. And all he does is watch you, face transfixed as if he sees nothing, like he isn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.

There’s no going back after this, you think silently as you steady your trembling hands. There’s also no way in hell you’ll let him see you cry. Fuck that. Your eyes fall over the curls that drape over the frame of his glasses, his face cradled by candlelight and dear Merlin, do you love this boy. All of him, even the parts that don’t reciprocate the feeling. This is the final snapshot in your memory of him, because this fleeting moment will have to be enough.

“I hope you get everything you ever wanted James. For my sake, I hope I never hear a thing about it.”

Perhaps having the last word will absolve you of the feeling that desecrates your entire essence as you put one foot in front of the other, pushing past the door of the Three Broomsticks and out into the unknown. But it’s not enough.

—

The break in routine absolutely shatters you, if we’re being honest. A year and a half of loving him, and three more before that of liking the slow steady burn that is James Potter…. It’s like looking at the world with new eyes and this window of opportunity with graduation nearing is your chance of starting anew. There’s also the custodial aspect after the end of a relationship, and it’s hard to separate the rest of what’s yours and his in your mind. Your friends are his, and his are yours. It makes quite a predicament to not have things so easy as they consider who to eat lunch with, or who’s dorm to hang out in. Hopefully, things get easier with time but you’re not as confident as you once were.

A part of you feels like you don’t belong anywhere anymore. James is the sun, after all; a natural leader— everyone revolves around his ingenious ideas and the light he brings. He’s the one who always has a plan, and everyone follows in his stead. Where do you fit in all of that? Where do you go?

His parents are likely the loveliest people to ever grace the wizarding world. Euphemia catches you by the arm after the graduation ceremony as you’re about to take the 7th year boat back across the Black Lake. With no family in attendance and no boyfriend to dote on, niceties were expended quick enough to want to run out of there and never look back.

“Darling, are you leaving without a goodbye?” Mrs. Potter smiles, calling her husband over both with grins made of sunlight. 

Somehow it resonates in your brain that it’s finally over, and your lip trembles when they pull you in for a hug that rivals your hunger to be loved. You think that even if your parents showed up today, it wouldn’t have felt this kind.

“Congratulations dearest! We’re so proud of you,” Fleamont rumbles, a big man with an even bigger heart as he brandishes flowers out of thin air to hand to you daintily. You’re going to miss them terribly. Is it wrong to want more of this? But you remember why it’s not as James’s cologne floods your senses and his silhouette creeps into your periphery. Your smile grows smaller as you two stare at each other and breathe the same air for the first time in almost a month. Whatever’s thrumming in your being, he holds the key to. Mr. and Mrs. Potter try to loop you into a photo together, the magical kind that moves to capture a memory so intimately but both of you stand perfectly still as his and your hesitant dismissals go unheard.

Loving hands fuss over both your caps and the way hair sticks out until you feel your shoulders jostle together for a moment and his hand lands on the small of your back. The flash goes off as you two look at each other in something that still resembles love. You can’t unlove him, not in a day, a month, or ever, you think. Not if you’ve bared your soul to him, even if he hurt you. 

You look away first, urging your heart to come back to reality. He’s not yours anymore, and you still love him. Alice told you earlier that he asked Lily out on a date for next Tuesday. What you were supposed to do with that information you’re unsure, but the feeling in your belly helps you say goodbye to the Potters, and clarify that they can keep the picture since you’re not James’ girlfriend anymore. An awkward silence settles over all four of you.

Euphemia rubs your cheek, hushed promises of keeping in touch while Fleamont looks at his son in confusion. James’ hand flexes in the absence of your body against his. He simply watches you walk away again, alone, while he’s surrounded by his friends and his family. The beating of a tiny heart matching your own as you hop onto the boat proves otherwise.

—-

A baby.

You think back to when it must’ve happened, the weekend before that Tuesday, when everything still felt right. With your last exams of your academic career finally done, both you and James were tangled in his silk sheets until dawn, an amalgamation of passionate whispers and lingering touches you could still feel in the days that followed. As you stared at the flutter of his eyelashes and relished the way he pulled you closer in his dream state, you were quite sure that he is, too, tangled within your soul to let go. That your doubts were residual anxiety from preparing for the future. For the first time in a while, you were reaffirmed that the boy sleeping next to you was your forever. Not being careful was a consequence of feeling safe in his arms, and subconsciously, you both hoped that everything would work itself out. As you walked out of the Head Students’ Lounge past noon with James’ hickeys as a necklace and donning your boyfriend’s shirt, you noticed the blush on Lily Evans’ face. You were just so sure, but that felt like forever ago.

Your parents weren’t happy when they came back from their business trip two months after graduation to find you four months along with a prominent bump and filled with so much fear. All plans of getting a job, of moving out, and joining the Order were now replaced with the startling fact that you are 18 and don’t have a single clue on what to do next. Your childhood bedroom feels smaller tonight, with both your parents standing at the door, all of you unsure of what to say. You can’t remember the last time they tucked you in, but as your dad takes a seat on the edge of your bed, it seems possible that maybe you won’t be alone in all of this.

“Whatever decision you make will be the right one, sweetie. If you love that baby, then we do too,” he sniffles, and you don’t recall having ever seen him this emotional before. One thing you are sure of, is this baby is loved, and made from love. The next is that England is not a safe place to raise your baby. 

Somewhere far away, in a hidden place guarded by some of the most experienced wizards, the Order of the Phoenix meets again to determine the future of the wizarding world. James’s eyes dart back and forth from the door to whichever adult is talking about the next mission. You didn’t show up again. All of the meetings so far where he was always the first one to arrive and the last to leave in hopes of getting a glimpse of you, and you never showed. There’s a deep worry that haunts him as the months pass by, and he knows that it would be easy to send you a letter, or to show up at your door, but he’s probably the last person you want to see. 

“We’re going out for a pint, you ready to leave James?” Lily whispers into his ear, arms curling around to his chest. But he’s not ready at all, sat on the sofa with his eyes on the door, just in case. Trying to love someone who’s still in love is a losing battle, Lily thinks, as she watches her boyfriend look like a child missing their favorite blanket. But in a war like this one, no one would be foolish enough to decline company.

“I’ll meet you there,” he smiles, leaning back to kiss her cheek. It’s cruel to both of them, the way he’s acting knowing that Lily won’t ever be you. Every chance he gets to have a moment to himself, he thinks of the despondent look on your face as you walked away from him and his parents that day. No more anger at all, no biting words or the fighting spirit that he knows and loves. Both of you just accepted what was to come.

Sirius and Remus approach him later after everyone’s left that they got word that you moved to America. He thinks of what could’ve been, and the thought of your safety is the only thing that lets his mind rest as guilt pushes and pulls at his heartstrings like waves.

He’s spent these months fighting in the war, loving and losing that he thinks this isn’t anything like the white house and picket fence fantasy you both used to cook up. As he grabs his coat to leave, James wonders if by being away from all of this you’ll get to live the life you want. 

—

“Okay honey, hold on tight to mama.” 

Your little boy was almost bouncing off the pavement with a chocolate covered grin, and it makes you laugh harder than it should. Maybe Florean Fortescue’s was not the way to start off your son’s first trip to Diagon Alley, but your new job at the Ministry starts tomorrow and you’ve been missing your favorite stationery. The town was packed with people with the war having ended and trying to start anew. You haven’t seen any familiar faces and maybe years ago that was a bad thing, but hope spreads over Diagon Alley with strangers smiling at Christopher as he skips on the cobblestone, almost tripping over his own feet at the entrance of Flourish and Blotts. 

He runs forward to explore the store as you smile at your creation, letting him wander along the aisles as you have done years before. Being back here is like walking through a memory, and though it used to be home, you know yours is walking around in tiny bright red shoes that light up like his smile. Your fingers flip through the different quills and parchment on display, and after finding everything you need, you hear your son’s laughter in the opposite corner of the shop. Motherly instincts always prevail as your feet guide you to the sound of his voice, since he’s never been one to shy away from a friendly conversation.

“Did you find everything you were looking for, honey?”

James’ head whips up from the tiny boy he was entertaining with color-changing quills to see you, and he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose to make sure he’s seeing properly. The both of you go quiet as time stands still, with Christopher chattering at your feet. 

“Mama! Look at this one, it goes rainbow!” he says, tugging at your coat to see the quill in James’s hand. The pieces start to fit together in James’ mind, looking at your pursed lip, then to the sight of this boy smiling with the innocence he had a lifetime ago. This boy, his son, has your eyes. You shake your head rapidly as he intakes a breath of air.

“Honey?” he whispers, knowing that was his name for you.

“So what, he looks like a honey,” you say defensively, grabbing your son’s hand.

He looks like my son, his eyes say—both of you look down to the child who’s all grins and none the wiser piping up.

“My name’s Topher!” 

“Yes it is, and now it’s time to say goodbye to the nice man, okay?” Topher pouts and looks up at his father without even knowing it, handing him the quill. 

“Keep it. I’ll pay for it, and then you can write to me,” he says almost desperately, losing grip of everything that he’s been trying to convince himself for the past 7 years. 

“Don’t be weird, Potter. Don’t…” you shake your head, eyes misting over. Seeing him again brought back everything. It was already overwhelming to have a kid that’s almost the splitting image of him, to learn of a love so pure after one that’s wrecked you to your core, but being here, within arms reach… You’re 18 again and scrambling away from the corner booth trying to get away from the man you love most not wanting you in return.

“Honey, why don’t you give us a minute to talk? Go find me some cool enchanted stickers for me to bring to work tomorrow, okay?” Your baby runs off without even questioning it, his sense of adventure also inherited from his father.

“I’m…so sorry.” James moves closer to you, and you take a step back sighing humorlessly.

“For what? He’s an amazing kid. Even though… he wasn’t planned, I don’t think I could ever see my life turning out any other way.” You shift your weight to your other foot. He looks, successful, if that’s something he would be proud of. He’s wearing an impressive suit, and his eyes are a bit hardened by the past few years, but his charisma, his smile…. He’s still the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

“I feel foolish. I was so scared to live my life and then here you are raising our child…” 

You blink softly at his words, and it reminds him of your youth, all doe-eyed and full of want. You used to want him like he still wants you. In front of him is a grown woman, a mother who’s strong and filled with memories and love that he should’ve been a part of.

“Things happen for a reason, James. We both did what we had to do.”

His hand brushes yours, and you realize you’ve been without his touch for 7 years. 7 years of being scrubbed clean of James Potter, and not a single regenerated cell in your body has been touched by him. But your son is of him, so you think that no matter how this ends, there will always be a part of you that loves James too.

You extend an olive branch to have him come to your apartment this weekend and get to talk. He knows he doesn’t deserve this kindness, but you know he deserves to meet his son.

—-

The doorbell rings and you take a deep breath as you open the front door, looking up at him holding a teddy bear for Topher.

“He’s still down for a nap. Let’s go sit in the den.” You say quietly. The hallway is filled with pictures of your boy, and of you in different stages these past few years. He stops at a portrait of your parents with Topher being swung between them.

“Your parents….”

“Were supportive; I wasn’t alone,” you muse, knowing he knows of your strained relationship with them back then.

“They actually just retired early last year. Overworked themselves and finally comfortable, so they help out when they can. What about yours?” Trying to make conversation with your ex is terribly hard, but it’s in good spirit and there’s not much to do until Topher wakes up.

“They passed, actually. Mum at the end of the war, and dad 6 months after. Never wanted to be apart, you know that.”

Your face falls at his revelation, “I’m sorry for your loss. They were amazing people. Taught me what it meant to be a parent, for sure.” Amicable silence fills the living room before you clear your throat.

“I have to be blunt, James. What do you want from this? You must be married and busy, so if Topher can’t fit into that….”

“I’m neither of those things, honey. I want to try and see where this goes,” he says scratching the back of his neck. 

Your heart stops at his endearment, catching yourself looking at him seriously. 

“You can hurt me, but I’m not letting you do that to him. Back then, you were all I ever wanted love to be. And then I had my beautiful baby, and I suddenly knew my love meant more.”

“I never wanted to hurt you. It was a mistake, because I was too proud to accept that I had it good. That what I had was meant for me.” James grabs your hands, begging for you to understand. The lost boy he was is a lifetime away from the man sitting in front of you now. Though it’s touching, you keep your heart guarded because the little boy sleeping down the hall is your biggest priority. You hope he can understand that too.

“He’s not a placeholder for your dreams of wanting a family. You have to build that, I did that myself. I’m not going to let you string him along and then once you have a family of your own, you just up and leave.” 

“I know. I was hoping the both of you could be my family, if you give me the chance.” You bite your lip as your thumb runs against his. It’s easier to forgive than to forget. But for Topher’s sake, you can try. 

“Tell me something James,” you whisper, having needed to know this for the past 7 years.

“Why did you throw it all away? Was the idea of loving me…so terrible?” He tilts your chin up, and you think that the earnest look on his face is the closure you needed to properly forgive him.

“I’ve never stopped loving you. Loving you is the best part of knowing you. Do you think I ever forgot about you?” He chuckles lowly, brushing back a strand of your hair, and you think this could be dangerous if you let yourself get too close. 

“I’ve thought about you everyday for the past 7 years, I just didn’t think I deserved you after everything I’ve done. I was so stupid, I am still. But I’m trying to be better.”

“You think of me but dreamt of her. Was it guilt?” Your hand grabs his as you move it away from your cheek, settling onto your lap. The air around you is suffocating.

“It took time for me to figure out that it was intention. Lily was a distraction. You’ve consumed me since the day I met you. My dreams, my thoughts… All of it is you. I choose to think about you as much as I can, because if I didn’t I was scared I’d forget all the good things about us back then.”

You both hear a thump from your son’s room and realize you’re wiping tears away. James stands up when you do, and both pairs of your socked feet pad closer to your son’s room. 

“We start this slow. We make decisions together, and if there’s any inkling I get that he doesn’t want this, it’s done. You understand?” Your hands are firm on the doorknob as he’s standing close behind you, hanging onto every word.

“Every word. There’s no turning back from this.” He wants to ask another question, but before he can, your hand unconsciously finds his and your grip is so comforting that he notices himself sniffle. 

“If it all goes well, and if you want, we can try again. But that’s in the far distant future, James Potter.”

“Anything you want, honey. That’s the future I’ve been dreaming of.” With you. Your lips quirk into a smile as they brush against his cheek.

Slowly opening the door to both watch your son wake up from his nap, your hand pulls James into the room behind you. Quietly, he sits on the edge of Christopher’s bed, and when his son looks up at him, you both notice the little boy beaming like the sun. 

—-

“Everything you love is very likely to be lost, but in the end, love will return in a different way.” -Franz Kafka

taglist: @jsjcue

love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing:

night shift by lucy dacus & about you by the 1975

[suuuupernovaaa]

muntxa si

MUNTXA SI: (english) to mate with, marry

(Adult) Neteyam vehemently opposes his human mate becoming Na’vi, for fear of losing her.

This story makes many assumptions - just go with them to enjoy the ride.

2,247 words.

The strength with which Neteyam opposed the idea, right from the very start, was a shock to everyone who knew him. When his mother first mentioned it, she saw a familiar fury in his eyes, one she knew she’d worn many times. 

His brother nearly lost his head when he brought it up, and his father hadn’t even tried to broach the subject.

What he didn’t know was that they weren’t bringing it up of their own accord, though it was something they’d thought about before. They were bringing it up because I had brought it up to them first.

I was the only one who wasn’t shocked by his reaction. I knew that all Neteyam would see was the danger and risk involved, and there was nothing more detestable to Neteyam than putting me in harm’s way. This was a sometimes annoying but mostly reassuring trait of his, especially given that, as a human living on Pandora, danger was lurking around nearly every corner for me. Ewya had blessed me with a strong and capable - but slightly overbearing - protector.

After weeks of his family telling me it was me who would have to convince him, I finally plucked up the courage.

We sat in our Mauri pod, late at night, and the words spilled out of my mouth before I could fully control them.

“I want to become Na’vi. Norm has an Avatar for me, he’s been hiding it since I was little, and he told me on my 20th birthday. It’s fully mature now.”

Neteyam sat at the edge of our pod, his legs dangling over the edge and into the water, and he spun around so fast that his braids smacked the wall of the Mauri.

His eyes narrowed and he lowered his chin. “No.”

Taking a deep breath beneath my mask, I stood up. “You don’t get to decide for me, Teyam. I have decided, and I know the clan will support me.”

“No!” He was standing too now, towering over me at nearly twice my height, but he could never scare or intimate me, even if he truly tried.

“Listen to me, Neteyam. You are only thinking of the risk involved, and not the reward. I can’t survive here forever, as one of the last humans. What if the air tanks run out? How will we live our lives together, with me in this human body? Have you considered the fact that your lifespan is twice mine? What will you do when I am too old, even, to run and swim? I won’t live like that, Neteyam!”

I felt hot tears in my eyes, and tried to blink them away in frustration. “You can’t force me to live a half-life with you when a full life is within my grasp! I know Ewya will give this to me. She wouldn’t have brought me to you if she didn’t want us to be together.”

Neteyam’s hands rested on my shoulders, enveloping me, stressing to the both of us our impractical size difference.

“Y/N... you don’t know that she will give this to us. She may take you home to her.”

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the panic I could see in his face. 

“I have to do this, Neteyam. We won’t have a future together if I don’t. Norm and the others... they talk about having to leave, without a permanent colony here. Their supplies won’t last forever. They would either take me, or leave me here to die with no oxygen.”

Neteyam pulled me down, so we were sitting face to face, our legs crossed.

“I cannot lose you, Y/N.”

“This is our best chance, Neteyam. Please. Please let me do this.”

As much as I had been pretending it was only my choice, and I didn’t need his permission, I knew I couldn’t do it without his blessing. That just wasn’t something I could do to Ma Teyam. 

I watched his chest rise and fall with deep breaths as he contemplated.

“We will do this, Y/N, and if Ewya takes you, I will follow you to her myself and bring you back.”

-- 

It took time to plan - time that was exciting for all of us. We decided to fly back to the Tree of Souls to give my human body the best chance, since with the Metkayina, the ceremony would have to take place under water.

The Omatikaya welcomed the Sullys, and one sky person, back with open arms. After all, it wasn’t as if I was a stranger to them - I had many friends to greet, as well.

The ceremony was set for the night after our return. Neteyam was quiet at dinner, and his mother watched him cautiously.

“Son,” she said, handing him a plate, “I see the spirit within Y/N. It reminds me of your father - strong, stubborn, a little frustrating.” She smiled, but Neteyam couldn’t bring himself to follow suit. “She will be okay.”

She gripped her son’s arm and he nodded, but the sinking feeling in his chest was there to stay, until the ceremony was complete.

--

Neteyam walked with me, hand and hand, through the large crowd there to witness my birth - or my funeral.

I could feel the tension radiating through his body, but no matter what I said, I wasn’t able to ease it for him. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, myself.

There she lay - me, but not me. Tall, with long, thick black hair and eyes that would surely be a piercing gold when opened. She was beautiful; it was the first I was seeing her.

“Oh, Neteyam...” I said, a lump in my throat, and gripped his arm tightly as we approached the tree.

He placed his hand over mine. “You can still change your mind,” he said, but with a sly smile, the first I’d seen him wear in a while - he knew there was little chance of that.

He lifted me up and placed me next to my new body, where the spiritual leader of the Omatikaya waited, a serene and focused look on her face.

She gestured for me to lay down, and I turned to Neteyam. Maybe it was the proximity to the Tree of Souls, but I felt a calm - and tried to convey it to Neteyam with a smile. His family stood behind him, taking their seats to join the ceremony. Neteyam would stay with me until it was done.

He nodded, and I could practically see his heart beating through his chest as he helped me to lay down, my head inches from my avatar’s.

“You will sleep now. Be calm,” a voice above me said, and I had only time to tell Neteyam I loved him before I sank away.

--

Watching her eyes close, a panic gripped Neteyam’s heart and he felt as if he could vomit in front of the entire clan.

He turned and sought his mother, and would have been embarrassed to do so in any other situation. She was seated between his brother and father, all holding hands with eyes closed, chanting to Ewya.

He watched as Ewya reached up, covering his mate in feather light touches, and he put his hands on her, praying to Ewya, reminding Ewya how much this human woman meant to him.

Silently, he told Ewya of the first time they’d met, at only six years old, and of their first kiss at 12, how she fought with him through the Great War despite her size, how long it took him to work up the courage to ask her to be his mate, and how they cried together when she said yes.

This woman is my life, Great Mother, he prayed, I ask that you return her to me in either body here, and we will make the most of this life we have together.

Every minute felt like an hour, and then the Tsahik reached over and pulled the mask off of his love’s face.

She was gone, at least from this form.

“She is passing through Ewya now, Neteyam, and you must guide her back,” the Tsahik said.

He leapt carefully over to her avatar body, taking it in for the first time. Those were her lips, the shape of her eyes, the sharp dip between her nose and mouth - all his favorite things about her, right here.

“Yawne,” he said, reaching out to touch her soft face, “can you hear me? Follow my voice. Come back to me so that we may return home together, and live the life you promised me.”

He looked to the Tsahik, who nodded in encouragement and resumed chanting. The cries of the clan rose around him, his father and mother’s the loudest, and he steadied his shaking body with a deep breath.

“Y/N, Yawne, hear my voice and follow it. I will wait for you forever - remember the promise I made. Do not deliver two souls to Ewya this day.”

He nearly shot back when the woman before him took a gasping breath, and amber eyes shot open.

--

It’s impossible to describe how it happens. It’s not a wordly experience, and there are no words to properly convey it.

Ewya is real, and she gave me a second chance at life.

Neteyam’s face hovered inches above mine as I gasped for air. He slipped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me up, and even in this new body, in my disoriented state, I was acutely aware that I was naked.

“Yawne,” Neteyam whispered, and I saw the tears spilling from his eyes. He only called me Yawne - beloved - once before, when he asked me to be his mate.

“Tiyawn,” I replied, my voice breathy and almost foreign to my ears. My ears! I reached up, trailing my hand over my thick hair and reaching up to feel the pointy, blue ears atop my head. A giggle escaped before I could stop it.

“Can you stand?” he asked, gripping my arms.

I leaned into him. “I am naked.”

“You are Na’vi now,” he replied with almost a shrug, “but I will carry you if it concerns you.”

“I think you should, my legs feel weak.”

They felt strong. My entire body felt strong, and I couldn’t wait to learn how to use it. 

I glanced over my shoulder to see myself. My former self. As Neteyam lifted me into his arms and stood up, I thought I should cry for her... but she didn’t feel like me, not anymore. 

The clan cheered and whooped, hollered and threw their arms triumphant in the air, as Neteyam stood with me and let out what sounded like a war cry, shaking me in his arms.

The joy in his face was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was beautiful, especially seen through these new eyes.

He rushed through the crowd, to his Ikran, and mounted in one fell swoop with me in his arms.

The Ikran felt so much smaller than she had when we’d arrived less than an hour ago, but of course, I was the one who had grown over three feet.

He took off, holding the saddle with one arm and me tightly in the other, to a place we could be alone.

--

Back at our temporary home, I was finally able to take a breath and try my new body out. For my first few steps, I had to hold Neteyam’s hands, until I got the hang of it.

I felt weak, but I knew that would wear off. This body was strong, and I was going to make it even stronger, so I could finally keep up with Neteyam.

The thought made me burst into tears as he searched through his mother’s things for something I could wear.

“What is it, Y/N? Do you hurt?” he asked, rushing to my side with only a necklace in his hands.

Embarrassed, I tried to wave him off, but he was too on edge. “Tell me, Yawne. Tell me what you need.”

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him tightly to me. My face rested perfectly on his chest, where before, it was just over his waist - making hugging an awkward feat. We fit perfectly together now, and it made me cry even harder.

“I’m just so happy and grateful, Neteyam.” I pulled back, wiping at my tears. “Tell me what you think.”

“What I think?” he asked, turning his head to the side.

“Of... me. Of my body. Do you still, I mean, do you like it?”

His gaze softened and he reached up to cup my cheek. “I have loved you for 15 years, Y/N. I loved you human form. Your small body, your beautiful soft hair, and your light eyes. I loved every moment of our life together.”

The tears threatened to return.

“But this... this is my dream, Y/N. I see it now, what you’ve always seen. You were meant to be one of The People, to be with me, to be the mother of my children and my mate for life.”

A smile spread across my new face so wide, I thought it might crack. “I love you, Neteyam.”

He pulled me into his strong arms, and we took a deep breath together.

“Forever,” he whispered in my ear.

I squeezed him tight. “Forever.”

[aylish91]

Your writing is fantastic! I'm always so excited to read anything you post. Congratulations on all the followers!

Would it be OK to ask for something Dream x Reader? Happy, sad, angsty, fluffy, whatever you feel inspired to write (I'm sorry, I know that's not a very helpful prompt ^^; )

Thank you so much and thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this self-indulgent piece!!! Though it kicked my anus at times, I enjoyed it! It has an alternate ending for a Royal Au that's not quite finished as well. I will reblog it with the addition as soon as it is completed.

For now, have a dream meeting our fair reader in an older Au! I feel as if Dream would like the nostalgia once in a while. 😉

~~~

To Meet Beneath the Old Apple Tree

Nestled into the woods outside of your village stood an old apple tree. It sat far enough from the road that others seldom visited but close enough one could walk without trouble. It had been there since you could remember, and though old, it stood tall, reliably bearing fruit throughout the years. Steadfast and reliable. But most importantly, it was your favorite place to spend your time.

From how the sun shone through the leaves, to the trickling of the nearby creek; It created a sense of calm and safety. It was the only place that brought you a semblance of peace. 

You stared, contemplating the bountiful fruit above you. Birdsong echoed through the canopy but you remained still, thoughtful of your goal of gathering apples. They were ripe and in season, providing the sweetest of fruits for your endeavor.

If you could reach them.

It was a real conundrum. You had gathered as many of the low-hanging fruit as you could, but the rest were seemingly out of reach. Even standing on your toes, your fingers barely touched their bottoms. You couldn’t get enough of a hold to pull them down.

You huffed, wondering whether it was worth trying for more. You had enough to make something small, but the thought of leaving without a full basket gave you pause.

Apples were better before they fell to rot on the ground…

Making a decision, you settled on bringing a large rock over from the creek. It gave you the extra height you needed. Unfortunately, its nature and shape were not suited to the purpose for which it was being used. Though the apples were in reach, the rock wobbled dangerously beneath you. Undeterred, you carried on.

However, you did not anticipate a finely gloved hand brushing passed yours.

“Perhaps I may assist y—"

Your soul lept into your throat. You had not expected anyone to come this far down the path. The jolt it caused had the rock rolling and you tumbling back with a cry. Apples flew from your basket to litter the ground. Had it not been for the strong arms pulling you against a sturdy chest, you had no doubt you would have injured your ankle.

Through your heavy breaths, the concerned voice of your savior pulled at the back of your mind, their words not registering from the panic and apologies hanging on your lips. Scrambling to right yourself and turn, the subtle pressure along your arms escaped you.

“Oh my goodness! Forgive me! I didn’t realize...”

Your mind stalled. Finally looking up, you found yourself in awe. Golden eyelights and fine linen captivated you with their intricate designs. Despite the gentleman being of bone, his expressions were smooth, filled with a worry that radiated warmth you couldn’t comprehend. The soft chuckle as he spoke only served to instill your amazement.

“Please. It’s quite alright. No need for apologies. It is I who should be apologizing. I should have announced myself sooner.” Glancing towards the rock, his smile turned sheepish. “It was not my intention to startle you.”

The motion made your cheeks burn. You had not intended anyone seeing you foolishly teetering for apples, let alone someone of their standing. Adding to your shame, you only now realized he had been bracing your arms when his gloves gently slid over your sleeves. You didn’t know how to hold yourself. Opting for the customary politeness you were accustomed to, you did your best to ignore the lingering touch.

“You are too kind, My Lord. But if it wasn’t for my silliness, there would not have been a need to worry. But I do thank you for preventing my fall.”

His hands slid lower to grasp yours, lightly bringing one to his teeth. It made you painfully aware of his natural heat through the contact.

“My Lady, I would gladly catch you a thousand times if it got you to fall for me but once.”

You swear his eyelights brightened.

“M-my Lord!”

You didn’t think your face could become any hotter. You simply couldn’t find the words. You had known the man less than a few minutes and he was already sweeping you off your feet, physically and metaphorically. It turned you into a stuttering blushing mess as you desperately tried to calm yourself. It came with no surprise when he gave another chuckle, relinquishing his hold to step back and bow at the waist.

“My name is Dream. I do hope you can forgive me. I seem to keep getting ahead of myself. Something about this place���” His gaze wandered through the branches before he shook his head. “But I digress. Allow me to help you. It is the least I can do.”

…

Everything about the man in front of you was different. Strange, but charming and new.

With a great bit of deliberation and halfhearted denials to his pleas, you eventually relented to his help. Its oddity continued to perplex you. No one had ever taken the time before, and surely not as enthusiastically as Dream. His soft smile had remained as he knelt to gather fallen apples, offering small talk as you went. You couldn’t stop the smile his help in reaching more brought you. The longer you spent with him, the more relaxed and at ease you became.

You paid no mind when the basket filled and you both made your way to sit in the soft grass. The conversation was enjoyable, his company desired. You didn’t want it to end. He was as warm as the sun and just as interesting to speak with.

Unfortunately, all things must come to an end. Yours came in the form of a hurried skeleton monster dressed in white and black, hand gripping the hilt of a drawn sword as he called for your companion.

Dream, similarly, was quick to turn in answer.

“Cross! I was not expecting you. What…” For the first time, Dream’s features tightened into a well-hidden cringe. “Give me a moment. I will be with you shortly.”

Branches from the apple tree swayed above you, their fruit glinting in the light. You hated the look of regret Dream gave as he extended a hand to guide you. The way he avoided looking at you directly had your heart sinking.

“…It appears our time has come to an end. Though, I must confess. For what little moment we’ve shared, you have bewitched me body and soul. I have never known another that has captivated me so...” The gold of his eyelights finally met yours, hypnotic in the way their light swirled when your hands clasped one another’s. “It would do me a great honor if I could see you again.”

Something pulsed in your chest.

It felt like you could burst. You must have looked so strange with how wide your smile became. It wrinkled your eyes and made it harder to see.

“Of course! Please, I would like nothing more!” If there was any way you could see him again after this, you wanted to take it.

“Then so we shall. Right here? In a fortnight?”

The sun shone brighter through the trees, bringing with it a hope you thought you had long since forgotten. “I’ll be waiting.”

As quickly as he came, Dream left through the winding path, the strange knight following at his side. You were left dazed, watching long after they had vanished through the trees. Soul thrumming, phantom breath from his parting embrace pulled at the back of your mind.

… You would wait. Willingly and hopeful, you’d wait beneath the boughs of the old apple tree.

Dreamtale Aus GrandMaster

[razorblade180]

9 Days of Lancaster Day4: Nightmare

After a long trek through the desert and day full of reunions, the time to rest finally came. Ruby did her best to unwind and frankly that included late night eating. She didn’t realize how badly she missed Remnant food until she tasted it. Charmed by the taste of a sandwich, she was caught completely off guard noticing Jaune quickly stand up from the couch. Poor girl nearly joked!

Ruby:J-cough Jaune!?

Jaune:Oh…it’s just you. *sits down* Sorry. Hearing you spooked me.

Ruby:Are you sleeping on the couch?

Jaune:No. I was…deep in thought.

Even from here, Ruby could see the tiredness on his face and under his eyes. Leaving her sandwich on the counter, she walked over to Jaune and sat by him.

Ruby:Can’t sleep? Looks like we’re in the same boat. Though I would’ve turned on a little light.

Jaune:Didn’t want to wake anyone. It’s fine. You can keep eating. I’ll head to bed soon.

Ruby:…I thought we were passed putting on brave faces. It’s not like anyone won’t understand, right? A lot has happened. Too much; especially for you.

Jaune:Don’t sell yourself short. Are you…okay?

Ruby:I feel better than I used to and I know I’m capable of feeling even greater with time. I’d like to think I’ve gotten over the biggest hump.

Jaune:That’s good to hear.

Ruby:What about you?

Jaune:I’m trying not to dwell on past mistakes. Frankly, the things I see when I close my eyes are more about the countless days that followed. All the nights when I was…alone.

Ruby:…This isn’t me kicking myself or trying to deflect, but I really am sorry my plan didn’t go smoothly. I know we can’t plan for everything and there is good that came out of it. Still, the Ever After caused harm too.

Jaune:I’m sorry again, about yelling at you I mean. I’m also sorry you didn’t feel like you could come to me for-

Ruby:That’s on me. Really, it is. I can’t help but think back to before all of this. At Beacon, I told you we couldn’t afford to make mistakes because we’re leaders now with people that count on us. Looking back on it, that’s pretty bad advice. At the very least it’s damming.

Jaune:You spoke earnestly and said what I needed to hear to try my best. I’m thankful for that. Neither of us could’ve had known just how much we’d cling to that idea. Life is messy.

Ruby:Life is scary. Jaune, do you…see them in your nightmares? Sometimes I do.

Jaune:Not in a long time. At some point nightmare was what tomorrow brought. Also…I was more afraid of you. Of how you might look at me for…

Ruby:…

Jaune:Ruby? How can you look at me? How can you forgive me? At the end of the day, it’s me who-

Ruby:I could never blame you.

Her voice was so gentle as her eyes watered at the sight of Jaune’s tormented gaze. Ruby slowly reached out to run the side of her face before pulling his down onto her lap. Her fingers played with his hair, the focus on the white strands.

Ruby:I will never blame you. It’s not your fault. I wasn’t there but I know in the end you did everything you could, both you and Weiss. We’ve been apologizing a lot, but I do want to say than you. *crying* Because I know deep down I wouldn’t have the strength to honor that plea, so let’s stop hurting ourselves with what we did or didn’t do. Jaune, thank you for easing Penny’s pain. I will fight tooth and nail to never leave you alone like that again for both our sakes. So please…get some rest. We need some rest.

Warm tears hit her legs. The two leaders couldn’t help but cry silently in the dark, Jaune’s hand reaching up to hold Ruby’s. Though sadness filled their soul, so did a sense of relief. They were still here for each other despite it all. It was a comfort both of them cherished deeply. Tears eventually stopped but neither of them moved from their spot all night. Instead they clung to that comfort, finally falling asleep in each other’s embrace.

[bestworstcase]

Okay, so in an earlier post, you brought up the idea that Dark saw Salem as his heir (sorry if this is off. I couldn't find the og post) and destroyed the world with Light because he knew Salem could bring back humanity.

Now, with your new post about the transcendent cycle (human->grimm->human or faunus), it got me thinking: Did Dark build the transcendent cycle for Salem to find and kickstart the world with?

original / addendum

broadly my thinking is that the salem incident led dark to conclude that the ongoing disagreement between himself and his brother (re: jabber) couldn’t be resolved, and everything he does afterward is a gambit to get light to leave remnant just as they left the ever after when their disagreement first became untenable. the brothers make salem immortal by mutual agreement but for very different reasons; for dark, a human rebellion is the intended outcome.

dark understands destruction—and through destruction, renewal and change—and i’m convinced that after he left remnant, he went home to the tree and ascended. whether he intended for salem to do what she did afterwards or not is less clear, but he knew it was possible and he left the wellspring of his power behind for her to find. “you thought there was no greater punishment we could bestow upon you?” and “still demanding things of your creators?” together add up to “we are crueler than you know and if you continue to seek our help, you will suffer; figure it out yourself.”

and then he shattered the moon—his own creation, according to legend, a symbol of his divine authority as one of the creators of that world—on his way out. unlike his brother, his departure is violent and final. i think he just left; implicitly dark’s judgment is the world is in salem’s hands now and she can do whatever the hell she wants with it.

the transcendent cycle i think just emerged through the combination of salem’s soul with the divine wellsprings and the underlying cosmic echoes of the tree in the world the brothers made; after all, they made humans in their image. it stands to reason that once the artificial system got disrupted, remnant evolved its own form of reincarnation.

[obae-me]

Upside Down- CH 8

Author’s Notes: No MC’s perspective in this one, I thought I’d give our bros some time to bond, but don’t worry, we will be back with a vengeance soon!

Warnings: This chapter contains negative thoughts and panic attacks. As Always, Read Safely. 

Word Count: 6436

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The Life of a Hero

Now was the time! The wind would howl, sweeping up stray leaves in its fervent swirl. The clouds would darken the sky. The birds would all flee from their perches in the trees at once, causing a cacophonous cry above their heads. He would feel his soul glow with the power of a demon, his fingertips tingling as magical symbols twisted off his body, his pact mark burning with the sensation of satisfaction. Of temptation. His shouting would rattle the very heavens! 

“W…What are you doing?” Nothing but a gentle breeze blew past. 

Mammon lowered his arms, looking at his hands, a sudden fire burning in his face. Where was the magic? The fanfare? The glowy stuff? “What’s it look like I’m doin’?!” He looked around at the empty field in front of them, growling, rushing back over to Levi’s side to look at the map. The crown icon was still up where it was before. They hadn’t even budged. “Did ya lie to me, huh?!” He shouted at the map, poking MC’s player icon repeatedly. Way to make him look like a fool. That was supposed to be his moment! How cool would that have been to just snatch them out from under the clutches of the demon before they’d even started the game? So much for his secret hopes of playing with them. 

Levi took a moment to register what had happened before bursting out into laughter, his hand almost covering his mouth. “Did you just try casting a spell? OMG that was hilarious! The look on your face when nothing happened–” 

“Shaddup!” Mammon snatched the map from Levi’s hands and turned his back on his brother, trying to make heads or tails of this thing. He paced around the forested area, watching his little icon make little circles over the map as he moved. “MC said it would bring them right to me whenever I needed!” 

After he was laughing so hard his sides were hurting, Levi stopped his chuckling. “It’s probably because we’re in a video game, idiot.” He went to go habitually rest his hands in his jacket pockets, only to find that…right…they weren’t there. He rested one of his hands on the hilt of his sword instead. So cool! “The spell probably doesn’t work because you don’t have enough intelligence or mana to cast magic.” 

“Hey!” At being insulted, Mammon almost crinkled the map in his hands. All the sudden, there was a little rush of wind, the forest seeming slightly darker for just a moment. Mammon seemed to blink out of existence just a second, reappearing right in front of Levi just in time to give him a shove. Levi’s suit of armor glowed, and while the gamer might’ve normally fallen over with such a strong push, his feet had never felt sturdier. It had meant to be a fight, but instead, both humans looked at themselves with wide eyes. “D-did you see me do that?” Mammon muttered. 

“Uh-huh.” Levi had felt a little bit of doubt before, being thrust into this world on a whim. That and the whole demon thing was strange. But maybe…there was more to the world than he expected. Maybe the world wasn’t so dreary. Maybe he could be the hero this time…Which brought up another thing. “It’s possible that MC isn’t even a demon in this world,” Levi mentioned. “Maybe your pact doesn’t work here.” 

Levi didn’t often get to see Mammon get upset anymore, not like this. The second oldest usually got mad or irritated, but it had felt like ages since he’d seen his brother’s face fall. “Ah. Y-yeah, that makes sense.” 

“But maybe I’m wrong! Maybe we could find something to raise your magic stat and you can try that again later!” What…What was Levi doing? Comforting Mammon? But he couldn’t stand Mammon. Levi shook his head and came over to steal the map from his brother’s hands, able to figure out where they needed to go immediately. “This direction,” he pointed west from where they were standing. “There’s a town there, the only town around us for quite a while. It has to be the beginner town! Here’s some JRPG 101! Best place to get information is usually an inn or tavern. We figure out some details, find the NPC to start us on our quest to hunt the demon lord, and we’ll be set! A bit of side-questing, a bit of farming, and we’ll reach level one-hundred in no time!” Levi raised his own head, looking above him. He had to think about it for the words to show up, but they did eventually. Leviathan: LV 0 Soldier. Not even Paladin status yet, maybe he’d get it at level 30. 

Mammon’s was much the same. Mammoney: LV 0 Thief. Mammon put his hands on his hips after looking at his tag, eyes suddenly filled with a little bit of worry. “Gotta get to one-hundred, huh? How long will that take, do ya think?” 

“I can usually grind out a JRPG like this in…sixty hours?” 

“Sixty?!” 

“But if we really can die here, we need to be extra careful. We can’t just hop into any quest or dungeon without being safely over-leveled. Plus, if we still need to sleep and eat here, we might be here for days, weeks, even.” 

“We don’t have weeks! MC might not be…We can’t take that long!” Another look of recognition crossed over Mammon’s face, his eyes darkening. “Oh, god…What’ll the others think?” Mammon began to pace again, one hand rubbing the back of his head nervously. “Lucifer’ll be pissed.” 

“If time is the same inside and outside, we’ll be registered as missing…Or, maybe we won’t be.” A swirl of negative emotions swirled within Levi’s body, making his brain feel heavy. “I doubt Lucifer will care enough to look for the both of us. You’re a pain in the ass and I’m a useless nobody…He’ll probably be glad we’re gone…” They both shared a moment of silence, elated faces turned into depressed ones. Levi was once again reminded that the real world…was a terribly harsh place. Filled with disappointment. Filled with pain. Needless suffering. There was no place in a world like that for him. Maybe…maybe he could figure out a way to stay here…forever. 

Levi suddenly felt a harsh smack on the back of his head. Mammon grabbed Levi by one of his shoulders and tugged him along till his feet moved on their own. “You’ve got that look on your face when you’re thinking something pathetic again. I can’t have you sulkin’ around all sad. All of our brothers are gonna cry buckets of tears when they realize we’ve gone missing! We’ll come back and they’ll throw a party! Then we’ll get MC back and help them kick those other demon’s asses, and you’ll officially be part of our group!” 

Levi winced a bit at his head, but it did snap him out of the spiral he was heading down… “Group?” 

“Yeah, the cool group! The Demon group! The…Secretive…Mammon, MC, and Levi Group!” 

“That’s just our names…” A little bubble of humor floated up to Levi’s chest. How was Mammon always like this? Trying to look at things positively always, even when he knew he was going to lose. He’d try things over and over and over again, getting the same result, which is technically the definition of insanity. Yet, he never cared. Somehow, most things worked out in the end for him anyway. Then he’d always say something stupid like ‘see, I knew things would go my way’, despite all the pain he had been through… Levi wished he was like that. He could never see the positive in anything. Nothing ever went right for him. Yet…this was happening now. He was spending this much time with his older brother and was actually…enjoying himself. Mammon was trying to cheer him up again too…This was…all he ever wanted. And yet some part of him couldn’t stand it. Levi suddenly felt a few tears fall from his face. He brushed them away before his older brother noticed. “You’re such a moron,” he blurted out, dashing away from Mammon before things got too emotional. 

“Oi, don’t leave me behind!” Despite Levi’s large head-start, Mammon seemed to catch up to him in two seconds. They both left the clearing, ducking under the shade of trees, trying to leave behind sadder memories in that clearing, perhaps standing a bit closer than usual, Mammon constantly bumping into his brother’s shoulder trying to peek at the map Levi had open. 

They continued to head west until they came across a dirt road cutting a path through the forest. With a bit of relief, Levi shared that it was safer to stay on the roads. Drifting too far from them usually ended up sending you straight into random enemies. For now, it seemed the game was giving them safety till they could reach the tutorials. Walking like this like a normal person was a pain, though. On the map, the town didn’t seem too far, but already they’d been walking for half an hour and they were only halfway there. Hopefully they’d both get some kind of mount to move faster or his previous estimates of how long they were going to stay here were going to suddenly be much longer. And this suit of armor wasn’t helping… If he were back in the normal world, he probably wouldn’t have been able to take a step with all this added weight on him, but that wasn’t to say he was completely immune to it. If only he were a mage…those robes would be much easier to wear. 

“Let’s take a break for a second…” Levi finally uttered, his stamina spent. “No more AP…” Time to recharge. He conveniently managed to spot a tree stump along the road, using that to sit down on for a few minutes. 

Mammon remained standing, hardly winded, looking up and down the road with an annoyed expression. “Maaaan. What a pain. Why couldn’t they spawn us in the town or something? Why do we gotta head over there ourselves?” 

Their little moment of pity was interrupted by the sound of a horse. They both turned their heads to spy a wagon being pulled towards their direction. It hadn’t been there before. Maybe they’d triggered an interaction. “Maybe we can get them to take us to the town!” Levi was suddenly back up at his feet, heading towards the wagon with hope in his eyes yet again. He waved his arms a bit as the cart approached. “E-excuse me!” 

The rider pulled back gently on the reins, turning his hooded head to both the travelers. With a small movement, the rider pulled his hood back, revealing his face. 

Both brothers suddenly stuttered, confounded, minds reeling in a bit of panic. They both shouted in unison, expressing their mutual question. “Satan?!” 

“Here we are. Welcome, adventurers, to Dawn’s Hollow.” 

Both humans raised their heads as the wagon pulled up to the town. It was a quaint little city, the exact type you would expect from a starter town in the woods. A high cobblestone wall fenced off the town’s perimeter. Two guards with leather armor held spears to guard the entrance. As Satan approached with his wagon, the two guards stepped aside, letting him pass. Immediately the smell of freshly made bread filled Levi and Mammon’s noses. This side of the town seemed to hold most of the shops. A bakery, a butchery, a general store, a blacksmith’s shop, the Inn which also seemed to be the town’s tavern as well. Other people seemed to be walking around although in a way that didn’t seem to be entirely natural, like they were following set paths. Even small children seemed to be running around towards nothing in particular. 

The wagon stopped near the general store, Satan hopping down from his seat. He came over to the back of the wagon and stood there. Just…waiting. Seems like he was waiting for them to get out before they could talk. “See, I told you he was an NPC,” Levi sighed a bit, standing. He appreciated the ride, but boy, was he glad to finally be getting on solid ground. Fantasy rides sure were bumpier than he expected. 

Mammon hopped out with ease, landing on the ground, looking over at his brother…or his not brother, with curiosity. “So he is Satan, but not Satan?” 

“If I had to guess–” Levi gasped a little bit as he almost fell getting out of the wagon, clutching the wooden rails like his life depended on it. His character was lacking in agility it seemed. He cleared his throat and continued as soon as his feet touched stable ground, staring at Satan. “This game probably changed some NPC’s according to our memories. Maybe to make it easier to know who to talk to? Or maybe just to make us more comfortable in this environment. I’ve seen similar situations happen in anime.” 

Mammon muttered his response under his breath, expecting the person that looked like Satan to react the same and throttle him or threaten him at the very least. “Satan and comfort don’t really go together…” But no, the NPC continued to just look towards them, waiting for them to start the interaction. “Super weird…” The older of the two took a few steps forward. Apparently closer proximity was all he needed before NPC Satan lowered the back of the wagon, beginning to remove the contents. 

“Glad I found you out there before something happened to you both. The woods out here used to be peaceful, but lately even the roads during the day can be risky.” Satan pulled down a crate with surprising ease and settled it near the outer wall of the shop. “Anyways, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Satan. I own this shop right here. I travel out every so often to bring back goods to sell. You both caught me at the perfect time. It’s as if it was some twist of destiny, right?” After he finished placing down some books, he straightened his body and smiled. It was a weird feeling, to see their brother so happy and calm. Apparently personalities didn’t fully transfer, only images and apparently names. 

“Right…” Mammon glanced away awkwardly. 

“I can’t quite give you a tour, but all the things you travelers might need are nearby. The Inn you saw is right across the way. You can get food just a few shops down, and if you need to stock up on supplies, you know where to find me.” As he spoke, a little noise chimed. Levi pulled out the map, since it seemed to be the only thing they both had in their possessions. The locations NPC Satan mentioned were now pinged on the map, the entire city of Dawn’s Hollow enlarged to see better. “Oh, but I bet you two are short on funds, aren’t you?” 

Levi couldn’t help but chuckle, looking over at his older brother. “Guess even in the fantasy world you’re still broke, huh, Mammon?” 

Instead of looking angry, Mammon looked a bit sad. “If I had my precious Goldie, we could get anything we wanted in here…” 

The shopkeep seemed unaffected by their conversation, moving forward with the information. “If you need payment, the leader of this town is always looking for some extra hands. He should have a few jobs for you.” Satan finally unloaded the last of his goods, settling one hand on his hip. “If you can’t find him, ask the Innkeeper, he always seems to know exactly where anyone is at any time.” 

An exhausted groan filled the air. Mammon tilted his head back, rolling his eyes a bit. “So if we wanna stay at the Inn, we gotta find the Town Leader to get money, but to find the Town Leader, we gotta go to the Inn anyway? What’s with this back and forth crap?” The NPC didn’t answer. Satan simply turned and began to bring his items inside his store, his dialogue apparently spent. 

Levi shrugged. “It’s natural for these types of games. Come on, we won’t get anywhere just standing around.” He tucked the map away, not needing it to remember where to go to find the Inn. They passed a few more nameless NPC’s before approaching the sound of merry chatter, comforting noises coming from the tavern inside. It was clever, able to have people drink to their heart’s content downstairs and then charge them for a bed upstairs should they be too drunk to wander off. Almost like a Bed and Breakfast except it was more like a…Drink and Dream?

As the two players entered the building, a bubbly voice greeted them immediately. “Welcome in! Oh! New faces! I love new faces!” A blur of pink approached the pair before they could even register what they were seeing. “Welcome to Heaven’s Rest, lovelies! What do you two need, a drink or a room?” 

After a moment of blinking, Mammon sighed. “Makes sense Asmo would be the one running a place like this. Not gonna lie, these things actually freak me out a bit…” Mammon leaned in a bit, getting a closer look at Fake-Asmo’s face. The NPC didn’t budge at that, just waited for a response. 

“I wonder if all our brothers are here,” Levi thought aloud before squaring his shoulders a bit, getting into character. “We were told you might know where the Town Leader is? We’re looking for him.” 

Asmo took a step back, his index finger resting just under his bottom lip as he thought. “The Town Leader? He should still be overseeing reconstruction of the town wall.” His finger lowered as his hand cupped near his mouth like he was trying to keep this next bit of information quiet, as if the other NPC��s might panic if they heard. “Apparently the other night a monster broke through the wall. Tore a huge hole in it! They managed to chase it away but the Town Leader is pushing to get the wall repaired as soon as possible! I swear, you can’t be safe anywhere anymore!” Then the hand went to his chest right over his heart. “It’s about enough to make anyone stressed out!” After the dramatics, NPC Asmo pointed to the right of himself. “If you both head down in that direction, you should come across him. Just follow the wall and the sounds of hammers! And then come back to me if you need a place to rest! Bye now!” Having handed off the quest, the Innkeeper bounded away. 

Levi didn’t want to admit it, but even he was starting to get tired of being sent off to someone else. Quests like these are much easier done from a chair behind a screen…Hopefully they’d set off on their journey soon… For now, the two followed the directions, following the wall in the direction they’d been pointed in until they heard banging and clanging and assorted construction sounds. The hole that had been mentioned before was a bit of an understatement. It wasn’t like they were working to fix a little piece of wall that had crumbled down, but actually a giant gaping entrance. It seemed they were working hard to make temporary fixes, using logs instead of stone. Workers kept running back and forth to pick up supplies, and for some reason some NPC’s were hammering in places they didn’t need to be. One character did stand out from the others. He stood observing with his arms crossed, a nice blue hue to his clothes making him stick out from the others. Both the brothers knew who this was just from looking at the back of him. They both stopped their approach, a little on edge despite knowing that he wasn’t the real deal. 

“Figures…” Mammon scoffed. 

“B-Better a Town Leader than a final boss though. He seems a little less scary this way. Why don’t you approach him first?” 

“Nah, Mr. Hero, you go first!” 

“Older brothers first!” 

They both bickered for a bit before Levi eventually gave in, approaching the familiar figure with his head almost held low. It’s amazing that even a fake version of Lucifer could have them both on edge. “H-hello,” he called out once he was close enough. 

The NPC turned, raising an eyebrow, keeping his arms crossed. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you two here before. Just arrived today I assume?” NPC Lucifer didn’t need a response to know, much like the one in real life did. “Came here to take on an errand? Well, that’s good to hear at least. You have no idea how many problems I’ve had to deal with lately.” He sighed, his arms dropping from their tense position. Normally, there would’ve been a deep anger behind those furrowed eyebrows, but now he just simply seemed like a tired and overly stressed man. There was no hostility to him at all. Definitely…not the real Lucifer. “I’ll pay you for each problem you solve.” He then began to rattle off a fairly long list of delivery quests, fetch quests, gathering quests, small monster hunts, etc. Every problem he listed felt like another year taken off Levi and Mammon’s lives. And for a small moment…Levi actually wished he was back home. The life of a hero is a lot of work. 

The two brothers looked at each other with surprising sympathy, now that they were both stuck in this situation together. “Guess…Guess we better get started,” Levi felt his shoulders slump a little. Perhaps once they got out of this beginner town, that’s where the fun would begin… 

“Now this is more like it!” Mammon shouted, continuing to dash all around, occasionally disappearing in a flash of smoke only to appear with his blades glinting in the sunlight. He drove his daggers down into the body of the small green slime. It made a whimpering gurgle before melting, disappearing completely after a moment. 

“That’s the last of them,” Levi sighed, sliding his sword back into his sheath, tucking his shield onto his back. Then all the sudden, light shimmered around them both. The exhaustion they both had felt was gone in an instant as the wind and glimmer revitalized them. At this point, it didn’t surprise them…well, not too much anyway. This had happened already a few times before now that they were working on quests. The names above both their heads now had a more comforting level ten next to their names rather than a paltry zero. Still ninety levels to go though…and there wouldn’t be an easy walkthrough for this game. Levi straightened, his shoulders not so weary. “We should turn all these in now, we could probably get another five levels before the end of the day.” 

Mammon looked up at that. Sure enough, the sun was lowering, the artificial sky awash in a myriad of warm colors, the clouds a pleasing cotton-candy color. He stared for a little while before shaking his head, snapping himself out of the little daze he was in. Levi found it hard to tell what he was thinking. Although he was used to it at this point. None of his brothers told him anything anymore. “Yeah, let’s head back. The sooner we get rest, the sooner we can head out again.” Mammon strode past Levi with confident footsteps, the younger sibling trailing behind. They made it back to the town rather quickly, the two of them retracing the path back to NPC Lucifer who had a subtle green glow around him, probably telling the two players that the quests they had finished were ready to complete. Mammon seemed to have no problem now walking up to this mimic. He strutted in front of NPC Lucifer and turned to face him, one hand on his hip. “I finished your stuff for ya! It’s reward time!” 

“Thank you. I’m sure this town will sleep a little easier at night knowing they’re a little safer. I can’t tell you what this means to me. I’m grateful such capable adventurers wandered into my town.” The fake Lucifer smiled at the both of them, the two real humans falling silent. 

Mammon actually took a step forward, his eyes almost shimmering. “I wish…” His voice fell silent, but Levi knew what his brother was feeling. He was wishing the same. They both wished their older brother could say such things in real life. They wished he could smile at them without needing to drink first. 

“Here is the reward I promised.” With an outstretched hand, NPC Lucifer handed over a bag of money. As soon as Mammon grabbed it, the bag disappeared, but a faint sound of coins and the small outline of words that said ‘+1000 gold’ suggested that they had gotten paid sufficiently. They continued to turn in each quest, needing to do so individually, leveling up occasionally, listening to NPC Lucifer say the same dialogue over and over again until their quests were spent. Finally, at the end of it all, Lucifer looked surprised. “You both really did everything I asked. I can’t believe it. You’ve saved me weeks worth of stress, thank you. I feel deeply indebted to you both, but unfortunately there’s not much more I can offer you.” NPC Lucifer shifted on his feet, thinking for a moment before snapping back into his usual position. “I know. Both of you take this.” He held out his palm, Mammon picking up the object carefully. It was a little charm attached to a string. It seemed to be made out of little branches, carefully woven into a circular braid, a blue crystal dangling in the middle. “It’s a charm that’s been in my possession for as long as I can remember. It’s supposed to be good luck, but I was never the superstitious type. If you show it to the other shops in town, they’ll know I gave it to you. They’ll make sure you both are properly outfitted for your journey free of charge. Keep it. May it give you the luck it never gave me and keep you safe on your adventures. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” That was all his character needed to give, it seemed. He walked away from both of them, his image slowly disappearing till he was gone. 

Levi seemed to only be able to stand there in place, forgetting the game he was in for a moment. Mammon took him by one of his shoulders and tugged him along. “Come on, let’s get some food or somethin’.” 

Before long, they both found themselves back at Heaven’s Rest, NPC Asmo bounding back towards them the same as before. “Welcome! What can I get you two?” 

“Food. Oh and– and a room, please,” Levi requested, shrugging his shoulders a bit, wondering if he’d have to sleep inside his armor or if he could take it off somehow. 

“Of course!” NPC Asmo beamed before turning swiftly and gracefully on his feet, looking at the counter behind him. “Belphie!” The name caused the human’s eyes to go a bit wide. Even Belphie was here? “Belphie!” Asmo called again when he heard no response. 

Finally, a head rose up from behind the counter, two sleepy and annoyed looking eyes glaring back at Asmo. “What?” It was. It was really him. Well…not really him, but the image of him. 

“I feel like we haven’t seen him in forever…” Mammon muttered, his gaze soft towards the figure that resembled their youngest brother. 

Levi’s lips twitched into a frown. Something cold settled into his stomach. “I can’t believe it’s already been a year.” 

Despite their conversation, the NPC’s were having one of their own. Shouts of ‘get them a room’ and ‘why should I’ and ‘what do you even work here for’. But Mammon and Levi moved on. “He’s comin’ back soon, ain’t he? Lucifer said he’s gettin’ better.” 

Levi walked past him as NPC Belphie waved them over to take them to their room. “I don’t really want to talk about this right now…” Aside from Lilith, the Morningstars all had another subject they tended to avoid, especially recently. Belphie… Levi kept his eyes to the floor to avoid staring at this digital version of the youngest sibling, stepping into their Inn room as soon as he was able, only feeling a little better when Mammon shut the door behind him. As soon as the door clicked into place, Levi thrashed, pulling and tugging at his armor to take it off. This all suddenly felt so suffocating. The world was much too big and yet much too tight at the same time. This is why he never wanted to leave his room…

“Hey, woah, chill out!” Mammon came to Levi’s side, grabbing Levi’s shield and putting it aside. “Lemme help ya.” It took some work, but they both managed to get Levi free from the metal, wearing just a regular tunic and some cloth pants under it all. 

Mammon opened his mouth to joke about what a hassle it had been, but before he could do that, Levi scrambled for the far corner of the room, tucking himself between the wall and one of the two beds this room graced them with. The youngest of the two curled up into a ball, his nerves suddenly overtaken with panic. This was too much. Far too much. Why was he here? Why did he have to do this? To try and save someone he didn’t even know? Was this even real? Had he gone crazy like Belphie had? Why him? Why them? Why couldn’t he go home? Why, why, why?

Amidst the panic, a blanket was thrown over Levi’s head. Levi pulled it around him, cowering under it, feeling a bit safer, feeling more hidden. He covered his face as tears fell down his cheeks. He heard his brother sit down beside him. “I told ya to chill,” Mammon sighed, his hand settling at the back of Levi’s head. “You remember what the doctor told you to do with these, don’t ya?” The older brother waited for a response but never got one, only hearing Levi wheeze and sob in anxiety. “Breathe in, bud, come on, I’ll do it with ya.” Mammon breathed in loudly and dramatically, holding it in, and then sighing it out, repeating it over and over again until Levi did it with him. “There ya go.” It took some time, but Levi’s panic attack came to an end. Now he was just embarrassed, continuing to hide under the cover of the blanket. The warmth of Mammon’s body left as he stood. Levi heard the sound of him throwing his shoes off as he spoke. “Jeez, you haven’t had one of those in a while.”

That you know of, Levi thought to himself, staying silent as there was a knock at the door. Their food apparently. It would be nice if it tasted as good as it smelled, but he wasn’t sure how digital food worked. The sound of silent and brief conversation could be heard as Mammon opened the door and shut it shortly after. Footsteps were followed by sudden light as Levi’s cover was pulled away from his head, a plate held out to him. 

“Come on, eat,” Mammon commanded, sitting back beside him with his own plate in his lap. It just looked like regular steak and mashed potatoes, not really the most magical of meals. Levi looked down at the food, then at his brother who was already digging in. Levi muttered a bitter question under his breath. “Huh?” Mammon raised an eyebrow, speaking with some mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Didn’t catch that.” 

“How are you so calm?” Levi hissed, startled at the sound of his own voice. He placed the plate down on the floor in front of him and tucked his legs closer to his body. “This is crazy! This is messed up! And you’re treating it all like it’s a joke!” Levi held his hands against his temples. “Just like with Lilith! With Belphie! You never take anything seriously! This is why all of us hate you!” 

Mammon didn’t respond with anything, just continued to eat in silence, hardly looking phased at what Levi had just said. Eventually, he stood up with his plate and shrugged at it. “The food doesn’t taste like much, but at least it’s somethin’. Try to eat a bit of it or you’re gonna feel like garbage tomorrow.” He walked away and settled it on the small table by the window. Mammon picked the other bed to rest on, pulling off some of his own clothes and straps and dropping them on the floor. Levi glared and then sighed, a stray tear falling from one of his eyes before he picked up his plate. There was silence in the room for a long while. So long, Levi assumed Mammon had fallen asleep. But eventually, just as Levi finished what he could stomach, he heard his brother speak again. “I don’t know why I’m calm.” Mammon shifted in the bed, laying on his back, looking up at the ceiling as both of his hands rested under the back of his head. “Guess I just try not to think about anything other than what I want. Forget everything but my next paycheck, my next car, my next big score. Makes it easier that way.” 

Levi glanced around the room, a small knot of guilt in his chest. “That’s not any healthier.” 

“Didn’t say it was.” Mammon took another deep breath and then let it out in a little laugh. “We’re all pretty screwed up, aren’t we?” 

Levi shook his head, ignoring Mammon’s joke despite the stinging truth it contained. “But– But you seem different here. You haven’t tried to steal anything, you didn’t even mention the money we earned from the quests. You could’ve gone straight to a shop but you…you didn’t.” Levi slowly got up, crawling onto the mattress he was next too, sitting and staring at his brother curiously, enviously. 

Mammon had to think about that himself, his head tilting back and forth. He wasn’t sure why. “Maybe if it’s not real money it doesn’t count? Or maybe I’m more freaked out than I realize? Who knows? I’m not a shrink.” He glanced at Levi through the sides of his eyes before turning his attention towards the night sky out the window. “Maybe I want something more than just money right now.” 

“Like…Like what?” 

Mammon scoffed, turning on his side, propping his head up with his hand. “You’re really just askin’ me for all my secrets, aren’t ya?” 

Levi turned slightly away from his brother, leaning back against the wall. “We haven’t really talked like this before. F-Forget about it. It was a dumb question to ask anyway.” 

“I want Lucifer to yell at me,” Mammon spoke suddenly, laughing at himself. “Isn’t that weird? I want him to say somethin’ like, ‘you’re unbelievable’ or ‘it’s a miracle you can breathe on your own’ because that’s how I know he had an okay day. If he’s too quiet, he’s upset. I want to start eating meals in the dining room again. I want to sleep in my bedroom again instead of in one of my cars in an empty parking lot tryin’ to treat the street lamps like stars. I want to go to another one of Beel’s games and embarrass the hell out of him with how loudly I can scream. I wanna lose my voice shoutin’ so loud. I want to be there to greet Belphie when he comes home and fluff up his hair a bunch because I know how much he hates it.” Mammon sat up rubbing the back of his neck , a little embarrassed but with a light behind his eyes Levi hadn’t seen in a long time. “I want to get MC and get out of here and learn more about magic and demons so I can do something really badass... I want us all to be a family again.” 

“...You’re being far too hopeful.” His brother always did want everything and anything...but…it sounded nice. Some of it anyway. He’d pass on Lucifer yelling. It always left a sick feeling in his stomach. And leaving his room was always a bad idea, but maybe if it was for Beel he could try it. And MC…he didn’t really know them, but he can very faintly remember the events that happened when he was under the influence of the potion. They had felt safe for some reason. Like a friend he had already known. They did try to save him too. They saved Mammon’s life. Levi looked at his palm where they had held his hand so many times. They had probably hated it, his hands were probably sweaty and gross. “I want to show them anime and video games. I want to read manga with Satan. I want Belphie to come home too. I want to be able to go a day without a panic attack.” Levi felt his eyes sting a little, but he blinked away the tears. “Don’t demons make wishes come true? If I make a pact with MC too will we be able to have all that?” 

Mammon looked down at his hand, pulling up his sleeve to see his pact mark which was luckily still there. “Not sure. We’re being tested, you know. The whole of mankind is being observed through us to see if we’re worthy of…some kind of peace or something between realms. Making a pact with MC just for selfish reasons might make humans look pretty bad.” 

Levi narrowed his eyes. The hero was always supposed to put the needs of the many above the needs of the few. Sacrifices were always made for the good of mankind. Screw mankind. He might’ve been on rocky terms with his family, but…he still cared about them. And if there was a small chance of things almost going back to how they were then… “I don’t care.” Maybe just this once he’ll try to do things Mammon’s way. Only focus on what you want, huh? If Mammon got a pact, why shouldn’t he? If Mammon could get what he wanted, why couldn’t he get the same? What did it cost? Some years off his life? His soul? So what? He knew he was doomed anyway. “Once we get out of here, I’m making a pact with MC.” He was never Hero material anyway. 

Tag-List

(Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from this list!) 

@rayanicaraynbow

@designatedbreadbox

@qrowsofafeather

@crystal-freak24

@coffeeandtealol

@crxwned-mxnarch​

@your-next-daydream​​

@josiedoesdoodles

@zerchlia​

[backgroundgoblin-blog]

���–SONIC & BLACK KNIGHT AU––

Down in the murky depths of the abyss, there is a heart that beats. It beats for a creature, too far down for the light of Gaia to reach. It feeds on the will of man, turning them to husks of what they once where. These heirs of darkness follow there master's command and spread their tainted nature throughout the world.

Here, in the murky depths of the world, lost in a maze of stone and moss, is a chamber of a forbidden spirit, locked away so that no man would ever find it.

Two holy servants, from the last few bastions of faith, the followers of Gaia, pace themselves in the shadows, with only their incantations of light guiding their eyes.

A young priestess follows behind her guardian paladin, and by the corner of her eyes, something catches the attention of the young shepherd.

Turning her head to the wall beside her, she found carving of a peculiar creature. A four armed dragon, encompassing all of the rough canvas. Bellow is a village, engulfed in a black flame. The sight of such imagery strikes at the core of the little rabbit’s heart.

• Crisma: Do you not feel it in your soul, the darkness slowly engulfing us.

Hearing such tainted words, pink hedgehog turns to the young one, who cradles her staff to her chest, looking down to the stone walkway. • Crisma: Is this place truly the domain of the old king? Or a prison for our weary souls.

The judge approaches the rabbit, kneeling down to reach her eyes. • Amelia: Steel yourself. Between these walls, such thoughts only cloud your judgment, corrupting your soul. Do what you must to strive forward. • Crisma: Forgive my weakness, the ever looming gaze of the dark is…overwhelming • Amelia: Yet here you are. The shepherd takes her eyes to her guardian • Amelia: Gaia stands beside those who embrace there vigor, and you have done so much in such a short about of time.

For a woman who has taken up the oath to smite and judge, her words brought such comfort to the young cleric. She couldn’t help but smile as her elder caressed her head. • Crisma: If the tides of faith bestows us a chance to ascend to the surface, and rejoice in Gaia’s warmth, would you continue your tales from your time as princess of this kingdom? • Amelia: If it inspires you so. Though I find your interest in those mundane matters perplexing.

Suddenly, a crack breaks the silence, the rabbit stutters, freezing in place. The hedgehog stands firm, holding her mallet with both hands.

An echo is heard, almost as silent as a whisper, as if the very walls where hissing, behind the silence, the dungeon speaks: • ???: Why do you resist?

The judge hides the the young one and readies her heavy mallet, while the shepherd turns her back and begins her incantation. • ???: In each walking day, you tire more, in each slumbering night, you sink deeper into compliance.

• ???: But fret not, if you were to just leave behind your burden, and allow yourself to become one with the dungeon, you would find that there is beauty in such darkness.

Suddenly another crack, the judge takes a look down and sees the stones they walk begin to break.

• Amelia: Crisma! The ground! • Crisma: What!?

Suddenly, the walkway gives in, leaving the two followers of Gaia, falling deeper into the abyss, Screaming into the void, to no avail, as the very darkness smothers their voice, leaving them unheard.

• ???: Let the tide of surrender immerse your soul, and take heed of this gift. For the weary souls who succumb to me, will find their place, and within it…peace.

To be continued…(eventually)

[jadedandconfusedao3]

“How can I serve you, Master?”

The man’s voice rumbled, deep and resonant.

He was standing nonchalantly in the centre of Hermione’s laboratory, wearing a dark charcoal, military-style coat that fell open to reveal a brocade green waistcoat. Her eyes travelled upward over the neatly buttoned black shirt and the swirling silver and green tie. When she finally reached his face, he was already staring intensely at her, his bewitching dark eyes feeling like they could see right into her soul. He was a stunning creature, made of high cheekbones and softly curling black hair.

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat and pleasure pooled low in her stomach. The man’s eyes widened slightly, and a smile stretched over his lips as he watched her reaction.

This is impossible.

“Who are you?”

He shifted, to rest his weight on one leg, casually putting one hand in his trouser pocket. A gesture of indifference. “You can call me Varek.”

Hermione glanced quickly back at the lamp where it lay cold and dormant on her lab table. It was hard to believe only moments earlier, that it had exploded filling the room with black smoke and the acrid stench of burning. She’d had to cast Verula in order to avoid choking on it and even now, tufts of it remained hugging the corners of the room, casting shadow on the dark tile.

She crossed her arms in front of her.

“Fine. What are you?”

He licked his lips and tilted his head. “Your slave.”

Her breath caught and she tried to tell her traitorous body to fuck off, but his gaze travelled down her figure to where her thighs had tightened and smiled again. This man, Varek, was far too canny for his own good. It was as if he saw through every move and every word. The whole situation was ridiculous. Was she really supposed to believe that this well dressed man came out of a lamp?

Her mouth tightened into a hard line. “You know what I mean. Are you a genie?”

He brought up his free hand to pick at an invisible spot of lint on his collar as he sighed. “I prefer the term ifrit. I find the anglicised version ‘genie’ so crass, don’t you?”

Huffing out an irritated sigh, she continued, “And I suppose you are going to give me three wishes.”

He tilted his head down and looked up at her through his long lashes. “If that is what you require.”

What she required was information, not speculation and hearsay.

Hermione’s parents had taken her to see the movie Aladdin in the summer of 1993. A delayed showing at some dilapidated cinema, since she had missed the main release. It had seemed so ridiculous to her at the time. She knew that magic didn’t and couldn’t work that way.

This man was an impossibility and it irked her to be proven so wrong.

“Are you going to tell me I can’t wish for more wishes, for anyone to fall in love with me or to bring anyone back from the dead?” She counted them off on her fingers in a mocking tone.

Varek barked out a laugh and closed the two steps between them, his eyes roving over her. “Why on earth would I tell you that? Whatever you wish is my command.”

She held out a hand, her palm facing toward him as he came to a stop directly before her. He leaned forward until it was pressed flush against his hard chest. That was unexpected. She had thought he might be incorporeal but the muscle beneath her hand was definitely real. Real and warm and hard.

“Do I have to make a wish to make you do what I say?” she asked breathlessly.

He was close. This was ridiculous. Get it together Hermione. You’re not a child, and he’s just a man. You’ve bedded plenty of them. They’re always disappointing no matter how attractive or intelligent they are. But that was the thing, wasn't it? This man seemed to be attractive and intelligent and the way he said Master made her shiver to her very toes. Her body continued to ignore her.

All the men she had dated before, kept asking for things and never listened, leaving her feeling annoyed, irritable and profoundly unsatisfied. The only one who had come marginally close had been Michael Corner. She dated him a little over a year ago and whilst he was able to keep up with her in lively academic debate, that turned into furious kisses and tugs on his long dark hair. That was as far as the fire went. As soon as his lips were on hers, his hands went soft, and his words turned gentle, and it wasn’t enough.

Varek got down on his knees in front of her and spread his arms in supplication.

“That depends on what it is you want,” he hummed.

This man, this creature, knew exactly what to say to her. She stepped forward leaning down to cup his chin, words ready on the tip of her tongue — Continue on Ao3

[violetedenchapters]

-Our First Night Alone-

Part 1

***WARNING***SUGGESTIVE CONTENT & SWEARING***MINORS DO NOT INTERACT***18+ ONLY*** 🔥🔞🥵

Click here for part 2

Click here for part 3

Violet and Lincoln Wood have finally landed in their home town and are heading home for the first time since everything has happend. Without impending doom looming over their heads, they can finally share a night as a married couple together and they couldn’t be more excited. The only thing standing in the way is their clothes…

*These characters are from Jessica Shirvington’s “Embrace” series and I do NOT own these characters* This fic picks up right where the last book leaves off*

After collecting our luggage from baggage claim, Lincoln and I hopped in a cab and made our way to Lincoln’s warehouse.

Our home.

After making some small talk with our cab driver, I turned my attention to the busy streets of our city teaming with night life and energy and smiled. I missed home so much. I hadn’t been back since I left nearly 3 years ago. The memories of the constant coldness I felt being away from him flooded my mind and instantly caused my heart to sink. As if reading my mind, Lincoln grabbed my hand and brought it up to his lips before planting a kiss, silencing all negative thoughts in my mind and leaving me with a smile.

My love.

He looked me up and down with his emerald green eyes that said a million dirty things. I half laughed. “What are you thinkin about Mr. Wood?” He placed a hand on my right knee before leaning in close to me, his warm breath sending goosebumps down my spine as he whispered,

“When we get home, I’m going to rip that dress off of you and show you just how sexy you are, Mrs. Wood…”

My breathe caught and my eyes went wide as I looked up at the rear view mirror to check if the cab driver had heard what Lincoln said. Fortunately, his eyes were glued to the road so my gaze returned to Lincoln’s who seemed amused by my shock.

Fuck he is so sexy.

Before I could respond, Lincoln began to slowly move his hand up my thigh revealing more of the slit in my dress. He stopped his hand on my upper thigh and I let out a slight breath of relief that he hadn’t gone any further. Just when I started to relax, he began moving his hand closer to my inner thighs, under the dress. I had to bight my lip hard to silence the moan that wanted to escape my mouth as he started to lightly tease me over my underwear.

My head tilted back as my eyes closed forgetting for a moment where we were. All I could think about was him and how I needed more.

“We’re home baby” he said low in my ear snapping me out of my lustful bliss as the cab came to a stop. Lincoln slid his hand back on my knee, covering my upper thigh with my dress again as if nothing happened. I pulled myself together as Lincoln gave me a wink, handed the cab driver some cash and wished him goodnight after we grabbed our bags from the trunk. We headed up to our home and I could feel Lincoln watching me as we went up the stairs to the front door. I felt his deep hunger through our soul bond and I was every bit as hungry for him as he was for me.

For the first time, there was no immediate threat we needed to fight or worry about. Yes, with Lincoln and I being Grigory warriors, there will always be danger looming not too far behind. But for the first time we were united, we were stronger together and I was ready for whatever came our way. Now, we were finally alone. Finally able to just be us in our home together like I’d always dreamed.

[flashing-blades]

I blink. Once. Twice. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

The tyrant’s grim facade breaks, for just a moment. A streak of confusion dashes across her face. “Excuse me?”

“Are you really trying to pretend like you’re above me?” Bile rises to the back of my throat. I spit on the polished floor between us. Her eye twitches. “Bastard. You probably even believe it too.”

There is a rage in her that wasn’t there before. “I know each name. I recall each face. For you to dare imply that I know not the price I paid in blood. I bear the weight of my sins every waking moment.” She sneers. “You’ve killed thousands, and you spare nary a thought for the souls you reap.”

She breathes in, taking a moment to compose herself. When she opens her eyes, the rage is gone. Only cold contempt remains. “And so you reveal your nature. Do you think yourself the hero? Does each of those lives mean nothing to you? You lay waste wherever you go. Death follows your path. And all to snuff out one more.”

I nod, locking eyes with her. “Thousands. I’ve lost count. Some I’ve forgotten.” My eyes do not leave hers.

“Yes. All to kill you.” I step forward. My hand grips tighter around the handle of my sickle. “What about yours?”

This time, she does not break. She rests her head on her hand, and opens her mouth to speak. But my words seem to register. No sound comes out as she furrows her brow.

I continue. “You don’t need to answer that question. We both know. Each and every person you killed was for this.” I gesture at the throne room, slick with carefully carved marble and granite. “For your seat of power. For your place at the centre of the world. And to what end?” I bark out a laugh. “You’d probably say that it’s for peace. So that you can guide the world to a brighter future. You probably tell yourself that every day. But just because you lie to yourself doesn’t make it true.”

There it is. That same rage as the mask falls away. “I brought order to this land. War ravaged the country before I stepped in. Danger encroached from every side.”

“And in return, we received steel blades at our throats. Shiny metal knights on every corner, watching for any sign of insurrection. Friend turned against friend for fear of retribution. Your peace is violence and terror.” Fury grips my voice, clouds my vision. “Our barons strangle the life out of our towns. Tax and steal until there’s nothing but the dust of the lives that were there before. And you do nothing.”

She slams her fist on her arm rest. “You couldn’t even begin to imagine the challenges-“

I shout louder. “Damn the challenges! The fact remains that you did nothing while they ran our lives into the dirt! Because if you annoy them enough, they have the resources to pose a threat to you.” I gesture at the side of the throne, where the carvings lie. “How many of those were ‘the last?’”

She says nothing.

“You grieve your sins, and yet you continue to slaughter in the name of your throne. 769 people have died today. Tomorrow there will be another. The day after that, perhaps there will be two more. Each will be the last. As well as the next one. And the next.” My voice evens out. I regain my composure, though the edge of my words remain. “That you remember means nothing. You kill to keep your grip on our world. No more, no less.” I step forward again. She moves to stand. “I fight, and I kill, yes. But we are nothing alike. I believe in a brighter future. You tear out the throats of any who do.”

I raise my blade to the tyrant. “To the tomorrow you don’t believe in.”

I charge.

“How many people have died to achieve this world domination of yours?” “769.” “…What?” “769 people died to achieve my plans. I counted them, and had each of their names etched on my throne so I never forget what my victory cost the world. Now tell me, how many have you killed to see me dead?”

[violettefox]

The Wailing Stone

This morning, I woke up early. The reason was because I had to prepare myself to go to the stone. I wore my deep-green-colored cloak to hide myself from people. I carried a basket filled with papers—some were crumpled, some were not. They were letters I penned for you, poems I quilled about you, all writings that were created by the thought of you. You were my muse for once. The melody to my music, the water to my river, the tint to my canvas.

Those thoughts about you pounded in my mind, leaving yet another scar across my already scarred soul. With my heart heavy and my thoughts wild, I found myself standing by the stone. I looked at it... in silence. Our history was buried there.

Nearby, there were the soft sounds of a widow wailing, her frail body folded against another stone. I watched her, almost detached, thinking how pathetic she looked. But then I paused, feeling a strange sense of recognition creep in. What a hypocrite I am, I thought.

She was frail, her silver hair tangled and unkempt, her skin etched with the lines of a long life, her hands worn and rough as they trembled against the cold stone. I felt a pang of pity for her—wondering if it was some innate cruelty of nature that made the elderly seem so fragile, so pitiful. Or maybe it was just time’s way of mocking us all.

I stepped forward and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. She turned to face me, her sobs quieting as she took in my face. She gazed at me for a long moment before reaching out and brushing her fingers softly against my cheek, as though she knew me.

“Oh, my dear…” she murmured, her voice frail.

A small frown formed on my brow, and I wondered briefly why she looked at me with such familiarity and why she pitied me. I dismissed the thought as quickly as it came and asked her how long her memories had been buried. “I’ve lost count,” she said with a weary smile, “but losing him always feels like yesterday.”

Before I realized it, we were sitting by the lake next to our stones. The air was thick with memories, both hers and mine. She told me about her life, the mortuary she ran. “Not many people die here,” she mused, “but my husband... he made sure life wasn’t always so quiet.”

Her smile softened as she spoke of him. “He would just grab me by the waist and spin me around, out of nowhere. He'd hum little melodies, songs only for me. And sometimes, he’d sit in front of me, just looking, as if he was trying to memorize every part of me.”

Her words filled the air between us, and yet there was a curious sense of familiarity in her stories. As if the memories weren’t only hers. They stirred something deep inside of me, a feeling I couldn’t quite place.

“You remind me of myself,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the water. “There was a time when I carried the same weight in my chest. Losing someone doesn’t get easier, you just learn to live with the hollow and sorrow.”

I stayed silent, my fingers brushing the edge of a crumpled letter in my basket. The feeling of something unsaid hung between us, heavy and thick. I glanced toward the lake, and there she was again—the girl. She stood just at the water’s edge, watching me as she always did. She never spoke, only observed, her eyes filled with questions.

The old widow's voice brought me back. “Was it worth it?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure whether the question was for her or for me.

She looked at me for a moment, a knowing sadness in her eyes. “Love leaves traces,” she said softly. “Even when everything else fades, something always lingers. A shadow, a memory. You hold onto those.”

I turned to look at the girl by the water, still standing there in her silence. Her presence had become so familiar, yet distant, like a reflection that was always just out of reach.

The old widow’s hand dropped from my cheek, and as she stood, I felt a chill in the space she left behind. I watched as she made her way back to her stone, her figure slowly blending into the mist that had begun to settle over the cemetery. I wanted to call out to her, but the words didn’t come.

I stayed there by the lake, the girl’s reflection rippling in the water. The wind stirred the surface, and for a fleeting moment, I saw something, like a shadow, a trace, and I realized that perhaps we were never so different after all.

[omiscurls]

Diluc, zhongli and childe reaction to their s/o breaking up with them after something they said, maybe after a week or so after they argument they think the s/o forgave them but they break up instead? I WANT THE ANGST

consequences

plot: reader decides to break up with the character after not speaking to them

contains: diluc, zhongli, tartaglia (idk how am i going to do this to my special boy but ill try my best)

warnings: angst, breakups, implied past toxic behavior

a/n: OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO HARD- I DONT HAVE THE HEART TO BREAKUP WITH PEOPLE

diluc

hopeless thoughts ran through your head as you fought with yourself about wether to enter angel’s share or not, hand halfway through to the doorknob. your mind hadn’t been made up just yet, you were still in between two very different scenarios - the urge to forgive him for his hurtful words growing stronger each day, as anger and other emotions subdued to loneliness and the feeling of a part of you missing, ever since the two of you stopped talking.

your mind flashed back to the exact moment when you looked into diluc’s eyes, always so soft and calm for you, forming a way of anger he never expressed towards you before. to the feeling you got right then and there that this man is not the same one you’ve met and fell in love with.

the process of coming to terms with that conclusion was as painful as the first strike of his angry glare, and even though he seemed to have realized the weight of his words right after saying them out loud, no matter how hard you tried, you could not erase them from your memory.

one strike of that pain, one memory of that night was enough to make you go through with your plan, door to the bar opening with a little screech.

it was like just another late afternoon, with charles tending the bar, knights and townsfolk filling the hot room, and the smell of alcohol traveling through the air.

“hi” you said to the bartender “is master diluc around?”

charles, busy with his work, quickly replied that he’s out back, opening a barrel. you nodded and went where his directions guided, pushing open yet another door to see the back of the man you loved, looking just as always from this angle, working over said chore. he didn’t even seem to mind the fact that someone walked in on him working.

“diluc” you said with a sigh, and he almost immediately turned around, tools falling from his hands and onto the ground.

“darling, hi” he replied quietly, walking over to you but stopping half way, eyes set to analyze your expression, figure out what was going on in your mind. “i’m glad you’re here safely, i haven’t heard from you in over a week” he added cautiously, as if weighing every word before deciding to say it out loud.

“well” you sighed again, once again going over wether you should actually break things off right then, mind taking pity on his troubled expression, tired eyes, on the obvious eyebags that were much more apparent than before, a sign that he didn’t catch too much sleep. “i had to come to terms with what i’m about to say”

he wanted to tell you he was sorry, he really did, but words didn’t seem to come out of his throat. obviously he was sorry, it was a bad day and he meant none of what he said, but you knew that, right? you knew he always cared for you and loved you… right?

he wasn’t the best with words, hence, the idea of apologizing with a gesture after you were done teaching him his lesson came to mind. a brilliant idea, one could never go wrong with a thoughtful deed for their significant other, just give him one more chance.

“and my conclusion is, we need to take a step back and… reevaluate things in our lives. i’m not saying this is the ultimate end, but what you’ve said, and how you’ve said it made me realize…”

you were making a good point. you were talking about your feelings. he should listen, but the only thing he heard was the blood pumping through his veins, and the two single words

the end

so there won’t be another chance? he won’t be able to prove himself? what do you mean, the end? the best thing that ever happened to him in his sad life was coming to an end because of him? but he was so careful, he treated you like his treasure, because that’s how he truly felt, like his lifeline, something he could never lose…

and all it took was one sentence too much, one glare too intense. for the first time in what, six, maybe seven years, his eyes began to water, as he blinked the tears back at a rapid pace.

“… and that was a shitty thing to do. i hope you know that. i don’t know if i had anything else i wanted to say, perhaps i did, but… that’s all. see you around, i guess” you mumbled, loosing confidence in what you were saying, taking one last glance at his lost eyes before turning around.

turning around from him, from the love of your life, was perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to do, and yet you did do it.

before you could reach the door again, though, a cold hand caught your forearm. your eyes met his, with just a glimmer of hope that he would magically say all the right words and somehow make you stay, you didn’t want to leave, yet knew you had to. if you wanted to preserve the respect you had for yourself, you had to leave.

why were you giving him time to say something?

his helpless gaze seemed to speak with a thousand words, begging, pleading you to not leave through that door, but as much as his lips did part, not a single word left.

he couldn’t say anything to hold you back, and you ripped away from his grip, turned, and walked away.

and just like that,

he was all alone, again.

he was gonna need a drink.

zhongli

tears flooded your vision, blurring every details of zhongli’s face, causing you to only see a pale color palette, instead of your favorite person, ever. maybe it was for the best, maybe it would make it easier, you thought, but that was a foolish thing to hope for.

even through the salty tears, you could make out his eyes, it’s glow never failing to guide you, and comfort you, now seeming to burn their way through you, through your body and soul.

“you’re stuck in another love, zhongli, we both know that!” you exhaled a bit louder than you intended to, the outcome sounding more like an accusation than a fact. “how can you ever say you love me, when it’s so obvious, and so apparent, that every time you look at me, you see someone else? you HOPE for someone else?”

you could only wish the words you spoke didn’t come out as a complete mess, because of those tears you were constantly choking on. desperation seeped through your voice, as the feeling of helplessness rose every time you looked at your lover and at the anguish, and confusion he presented.

how could he make this so hard? it’s not like you’ve presented some statement he didn’t know already, right?

you hoped your eyes would say all the things you didn’t trust your voice to. you hoped he’d somehow hear how all you ever wanted was to be enough, was to meet his standard, how it tore you open that every time he said <i love you> his eyes wandered everywhere but onto yours, how all his touches seemed absent, how all his compliments were truly about some other face, some other smile, some other kind soul.

the worst part was, how could you blame him? how can anyone, ever, blame someone for being in love, of all things? love was something beautiful, and once you’ve experienced it, you’re drowned in it forever, and don’t even want to see the surface again.

love is beautiful. when you’re the one who’s receiving it. love was beautiful, to you, too, when you loved how his wisdom flew through his words, how his kindness hugged your spirit, how his aura brought you comfort. you loved his eyes, you loved his cheeks, his lips, every single detail of his skin.

the love you felt made you complete, made you warm, until you finally realize the thing you should’ve seen much sooner.

that you were merely a mirror for him to look at someone else, someone long gone.

suddenly all the warmth you felt was directed back at you, burning you inside, making you wish you never felt it in the first place.

“aren’t you gonna say something?” you whispered.

his long fingers found their way to your hand, but you snatched it away.

if you fell onto his charms now, you wouldn’t be able to get out once more.

his breath hitched as he gathered himself to speak

“i want nothing more than to love you” he said, although quietly, it rang through your ears like the loudest of screams.

you scoffed.

“we both would’ve wanted that, then”

“and i’m sure i can, if you just—“

now, laughter was all that you were capable of letting out.

“zhongli, you can’t train yourself to love someone. and even if you could, then how do you think that would make me feel? like i’m so unlovable you had to force yourself through it to grow accustomed to a feeling similar to love?”

“that’s not what i—“

“that’s what it means! let it go, please, please just… let me go” you sighed, standing up from the bench over at liyue harbor that you were sitting on. the sun has begun to set on the other side of the sea, and you couldn’t help but notice, it would’ve been the perfect date.

“i do sincerely hope you’ll find someone who’ll love you just the same” he finally stated, as he gave up on trying to make you stay.

“why?” you chuckled “so i could make them suffer the same way you made me?”

tartaglia

(archons give me strength)

you found nothing but guilt, looking into the endless ocean trapped in his eyes. for the first time in forever, they glistened, but not with a spark of joy, like you always hoped they would, they shone a sickly shine, caused by a thin layer of tears, that didn’t dear to spill over his porcelain cheeks, almost as if afraid of making contact with the ruthless face of the number eleven of the fatui harbingers.

he could’ve easily been crying if only he let himself go. he would’ve been in tears, sniffing and coughing, but he just… wasn’t. he held those tears in the gates of his eyes, as if his life depended on it.

the guilt you found inside them, wasn’t his, but yours. you felt guilty, watching this composed, confident man fall into pieces right before you, crumbling before your sight. why were you doing this? you seemed to forget all those terrible things you’ve heard just from the way his irises begged for forgiveness and brows furrowed in inexplicable sadness.

but you couldn’t, no, this time you couldn’t.

“my word” you swore on dear life you’d burst into tears if your voice shook right now “my word is final. we’re over. and that’s… that’s it. you need to understand that there won’t be another chance.”

the moment his lips parted, you knew you were lost.

“i have told you so many times already, but i will say this as much as i need to, it will never happen again! i swear, on everything i love and everything that i am, i swear on life itself, i won’t ever let that happen again! you know i won’t! come on, i promise you, if there’s anything you can say about me is i do keep my promises, don’t i? darling, please…”

“promise yourself to heal and become better, first” you stated coldly, watching faith disappearing slowly from his fixed look.

“im sorry, you know i am, im sorry, im sorry, im so fucking sorry!” a scream left his throat as desperation took over both reason and self-respect.

“sorry isn’t gonna cut it”

“then what will? i’ll do anything, anything in the world, anything to prove myself to you. i get that you can’t love me, i understand that, but please, let me win your trust again.”

he said unnaturally calmly, compared to what he did before, and you got concerned immediately.

i understand that you can’t love me, his words rang through your head. oh god, what were you doing? guilt stroke again, right at where you felt your heart to be.

right when you wanted to turn around and leave, he must’ve sensed that, and pulled you into a tight embrace. not suffocating, as they often describe it, not toxic and desperate, but… as loving as every other hug you’ve ever received from him. as calming and grounding, even though you could feel his heart racing. he didn’t refuse for you to leave, he didn’t trap you.

you understood after a while,

he was saying goodbye. all the love trapped inside his heart seeped out onto you, all his feelings surrounding and engulfing you.

“let me promise you this” he whispered, voice shaking painfully “the next time i’ll see you, i’ll be a better man. someone you will be able to be proud of, someone worthy of both your trust, and love. i won’t stop until i’ll be enough for you to look at me without the disgust and fear you have now. i promise. i’ll be better.”

“until then, then.” was the only thing you were capable of saying before leaving.

as soon as the door shut behind you, you rested against a wall and covered your mouth with a hand, unable to hold your tears any longer.

you heard a cry through the door. so he does have some feelings left, after all

your daily reminder that requests are open [here]

[saphirered]

Memory

//Request: Percy x reader angst (15) Teasing 

You requested angst and so I went all in with our emo boi. Hope you enjoy. 😘

His heart stops in his chest. Time stands still in that very moment. He is frozen in place, unable to move, to react, to do anything. A handful of times has Percy felt felt truly powerless. In those times his soul raged with vengeance, heartache and pain of a thousand pits that could fuel the flames of hell themselves. driven by that vengeance he has right those wrongs, or at least attempted to settle the score, fair or not. Morality is only perspective and so is good and evil. This time should be no different but it is for he has changed. He has found a heart in that empty chest cavity. He has found that the defences he built up to safe guard himself from ever feeling that pain again, have been torn down, shattered and the remains turned to dust. Percy doesn’t know what to do with himself. No cry leaves his throat. Not a muscle moves. That weapon he clings on so tightly, simply refuses to direct its destruction towards the one who holds onto your limp body, when the light leaves your eyes, lips parted halfway through the final whisper of his name. He couldn’t save you. Again he is too late. Time moves once more even though he does not. 

Percy still doesn’t fully recall what happened next. A fight broke out, that’s for sure. Enemies were dealt with but of course the one who’s end he would personally see to, got away, the reminder of that name still on the barrel. Every chance he had to end Ripley before would once more haunt him. The passage of time had dulled the ache but now it comes back in full. He will end the woman, even if it will be the last thing he does. Even now his mind remains settled on revenge. He can’t think clear. You’d tell him he’s being stupid to give in so easily. Where is his stubbornness now? You’d tell him he should focus. Perhaps you’d even try to lighten the mood; say he might need better glasses for his sight is clouded. The thought of your usual teasings does not bring him joy and instead that emptiness in his chest comes back. Every thought of the good you brought to his life is consumed by the darkness in his soul. The memory of your smile turns to a gaze of disappointment and he hates himself for it. You believed in him and look what he has become in a matter of minutes. Your body has not even grown cold yet and here he is, at a loss, forgotten about all the good in his life. The others tried to keep him on track but their words, scoldings and offerings fall onto deaf ears. He wallows in memories once more and holds no sights for the future save for death and vengeance. 

They brought you back to Whitestone, where you now lay in stasis. Resurrection is not for you. Not in the ways he had returned, or some of the others. You’d run out of second chances; you’d told him many times. You’d told him you’re a cat on your ninth life and should you be granted a tenth that would be a miracle. While rage still simmers within his veins Percy has found himself not willing to bargain with gods for they do not hear these pleas. They would not change anything. The reach for something darker is far more tempting, and likely to succeed. Would he be alright becoming everything he vowed to kill? Would he let this world burn just to have you back at his side? Yes. Yes he would, within a heartbeat. And he would have resorted to these means if only he’d know you would forgive him for it, if you would not look at him with disgust for what he’d become. He remembers that conversation all too well. He made a promise he would now come to regret. 

“Promise me, Percival. You’ll not lower yourself to the desperation of the Briarwoods if anything were to happen to me.” You’d all but begged him. He was not sure he could have made that promise in that moment and you’d seen so in his eyes. 

“I will try.” Even those words were riddled with hesitation. You’d grabbed his hands in yours, forcing his attention fully to you; inescapable. 

“No. Promise me you will not go to the ends of the world and beyond. If you do, I don’t know I’ll ever be able to forgive you. Be better, Percy.” What smile and mischief you’d usually carried is all but gone. 

“I promise.” With pain in his heart he did. You relaxed visibly. 

He never should have made that promise. Percy strokes away some dirt from your cheek. All of this is wrong. He can’t stay in here. He can’t be faced with reality. You’ve carved open the heart you gave him and are now dissecting it piece by piece as time progresses. He has to walk away. He has to get out. No matter how much it pains him to leave you, because the moment he steps through that door, it becomes real. He’s lost you. He crosses the threshold with one final look, until the door closes behind him with an echoing click. 

Seeking solace in his workshop he ignores the presence of others. He ignores their words and attempts to get close. They are but ghosts to his life. Or perhaps he is the ghost in this. Nevertheless he sits tinkering, in the hopes the sounds of metal and steam will drown out his own thoughts. It works. Tireless hours he work without break until everything bleeds together. How long has it been? He has not seen the sun in a while, but he doubt it has risen again for his life feels like one of eternal night. You’d shown him the beauty in the dark, showed him the path of the blind, only to adjust to what lays in the void. No. He won’t think anymore. There’s only his work now, until he can no longer escape this all. 

It’s difficult to escape when your ghost lingers in this workshop. You’d labeled some of his inventions around, gave them a ranking system from ‘bunny’ to ‘Trinket’ to ‘ancient dragon’ for their levels of danger and then another to determine ease of use from ‘Grog’ to ‘handsome gunslinger’. He’d scolded you for it, but could not deny the stroke to his ego. Among all the works in progress, finished projects, and material storage there was a little nook atop a storage cabinet table you’d gathered some pillows and blankets. They’re still crumpled and discarded pushed to the side. From there you’d sit and watch him work, or read to him, tell him to take a break and when he refused to, you’d make it worth his while, proving to be quite the distraction he’d happily indulge. He sees the empty chair next to the one he sits on, your own notes on the table, among which he spots some of the drawing you’d done at his request; schematics but never without little remarks and side notes of your own. Somehow you managed to bring a smile to his face when he worked on his endgame. You’d lift the burdens of this world, for this legacy built from death and decay and you’d pull him out of this darkness, remind him that the light of the forge is still the light even when the flames cast shadows. Percy ignores the cold and goes to work, tinkering away but his mind drifts back to you every single time. 

He ignores the others when they come check on him, listening only for the opening and closing of that door when they ineffably leave and give up. Good. He doesn’t want company. He can’t face the outside world, not right now, not when he is recovering the shambles of his life. 

But then that door opens again. He has half the mind to break his silence, tell whoever disturbs him now to walk off the cliffs and leave him be in no uncertain terms. He takes a deep breath, waiting to turn out the words to come but there’s no words. The cold of the workshop disappears just a bit. The heavy air becomes a little lighter as the pressure alleviates. He tries to ignore it, desperately hang onto what he’s been growing more accustomed to; this cold solitude but he can’t hide in the shadows anymore, with every second that passes. He desperately needs that solitude for he might fall apart and he doesn’t know what will become of him then. He can’t do this alone. He needs you but you are gone. He turns on his stool when the door falls closed. He sees a ghost. It must be. Percy must be facing a ghost because this simply cannot be real. Still covered in grime and dirt that couldn’t so easily be removed, hair tangled, clothes torn and covered in blood, there you stand. Time stops. everything stops. He sees you. You’re not a ghost. You see him. You step forward and look at him with sadness and pity. You take a hesitant step forward, hand stretching towards him slowly, as if you’re just as confused and unsure of this truth as he is. You are here. Why? How? These questions remain unanswered because for the first time in his life Percy couldn’t care less about the facts, or defying them.

Percy slips from his chair, a tentative step towards you follows after another until he stands in front of you, until his fingers lace with yours and hold on. You feel his cold skin agains yours; clammy and shaking. Your breath rises and falls high in your chest, as if you’re out of breath. You look the same, feel the same. Once Percy might have thought to mistrust all of this but not now, he holds onto you and that is true enough a vision to indulge into. Your eyes are wide with confusion but respond to his hold. No words leave your lips, all falls silent upon your breath. You’re breathing. You’re breathing and alive. He doesn’t know what to do or say and does not think about his next actions for they feel so natural; he places his lips on yours; a final test to prove this is real. 

You don’t recall much and perhaps that is for the better. You’ve felt so cold for so long, felt so alone in the time you’ve missed and then you woke up longing for that warmth. It brought you here. Your heart stands in front of you, you feel his lips against yours and so you cling on with all you have, even when your body protests, you ignore it and linger on that what makes you feel alive. You feel your fingers laced with his, let the others remind themselves of the one you felt like you had said goodbye to forever. You feel the velvet of his coat, the linen of his shirt, the heartbeat through the materials over his chest, as it reflects your own. His heart beats as yours does. He is still alive, he still feels and thinks and lives, rather than just survives, because he has been surviving. You know you should not be here but you are and you will not change that. You will stay here, live here, and fuel the warmth of his heart, the good of it too. You will continue to bring out the best in Percy even if it is the last you’ll do because it will be worth it. 

You remind each other to love, are worthy of love and so you’ll give it to each other freely, as long as that memory lives on. For eternity to come. 

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you! 

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro. 

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr​

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr​. All credit goes to her! 

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

 "I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him. 

 "Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls. 

 "Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh. 

 Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there. 

 "How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly. 

 Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have. 

 "Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often. 

 "Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

 Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

 "But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

 "The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

 Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening. 

 Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham. 

 From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully. 

 "Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face. 

 "Baby monk, ya alright?"

 Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her. 

 "Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell. 

 When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!" 

 That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest. 

 "It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe. 

 "Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.  

 Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm. 

 "Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb. 

 Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

 "I did tell you."

 "That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster." 

 And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

 Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

 "I'm sorry."

 She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

 "Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

 "Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

 He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

 "How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business. 

 "Would you like to meet him first?"

 A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

 He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about. 

 He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

 That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached. 

 "Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

 Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her. 

 "Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

 "Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

 "When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

 "Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk. 

 "Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

 Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

 Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

 "Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought. 

 That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

 "You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice. 

 "Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement. 

 "I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked. 

 "I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile. 

 He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

 "No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

 "It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

 Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

 "Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

 The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement. 

 "Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

 She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings. 

 Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared. 

 "No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be. 

 "She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face. 

 "Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

 "Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

 "I will if I must."

 "Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares." 

 Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

 "That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more. 

 As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

 *****

 Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes. 

 During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light. 

 So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time. 

 Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane. 

 Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's. 

 Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met. 

 Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step. 

 On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home. 

 After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench. 

 There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step. 

 *****

 "So, what is going on between you and Cedric?" 

 You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

 "You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

 "Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it. 

 Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it. 

 Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

 "Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer. 

 You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

 If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches. 

 The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else. 

 Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky. 

 A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.  

 "He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence. 

 Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.  

 "Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

 "Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral. 

 Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

 You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own. 

 "But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed. 

 "Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

 Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance. 

 Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

 You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

 "Your mother will let me in."

 "Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

 The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later. 

 Or at least that was what you told yourself. 

 *****

 "What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

 You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal. 

 Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason. 

 When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer. 

 "Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him. 

 "Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

 "Yes." You breathed out. 

 He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

 Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now. 

 "Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

 "Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step. 

 "But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see. 

 That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

 "He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

  As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true. 

 The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes. 

 "If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

 A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

 His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies. 

 As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.  

 "THANK YA, GOD!!" 

 The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness. 

 "Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled. 

 You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be. 

 "Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin. 

 "Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

 Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face. 

 "Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

 Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead." 

 Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric. 

 Just how you wanted it. 

 Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

 He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released. 

 "I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

 That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you. 

 "Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

 He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours. 

 "You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?" 

 It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

 With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry.