#au where summoner is resurrected by hel and needs lif to stay alive

[keikaru]

more than the scattering of petals | lif x summoner au

Líf doesn’t understand why a building like this exists on the outskirts of the city. Long branches, heavy with the fragrance of flowers, conceal the eastern inspired architecture from view. The building stands aloof, with tree branches stretching near the upper floor windows and caressing the tiled rooftop with its shimmering, green leaves.

But he doesn’t have to understand so long as Kiran is here.  

A gust gently stirs the leaves. The leaves rustle against the tiles and echo the rhythm of rain.

Líf approaches the home in long strides. Near the building, his eyes flicker to a slender silhouette resting between the sliding doors.

Her outfit is a loose garment with long sleeves. Sleeves pool around her as if she sits in the center of a rippling pond.

Without fail, she greets him as if they share a home.

He leans down and brushes his hand against her face, caressing her cheek. She leans into his touch with a gentle smile.

Hand under her chin, he tilts her head to face him.

He loves her with a gentle immensity. Her content expression, the way her body is attentive to his touch—she is his heart. The one he will destroy a realm for, his Summoner.   

She obliges and her eyes glimmer with a tenderness that stirs a warmth inside him. For a moment, she appears much more alive and regains her autonomy not as an automation for Ganglöt but as his beloved Kiran.

“Do flowers bloom knowing they will die?”

Her wispy voice carries a melancholic air, but her expression reveals kindness and love. But why did her words press into his chest like a bell echoing across an empty courtyard?

Uncertain how to respond, he presses his thumb on her bottom lip. Soft, pliant lips part under his touch. Líf opens his mouth to speak, but she laces her fingers together behind his neck and tugs him low.

They fall on the tatami.

Each kiss dissolves all thoughts and words. Nothing else matters but her soft and warm body beneath his. She isn’t like him. Not all the way, perhaps.

His chest tightens. But he knows she needs his body to stay alive.

He no longer winces when she grabs his hair and presses against him for more. When she needs him, she forgets herself. Her thoughts blur instincts to survive, to replenish her life, surpasses her desire to be gentle with him.

He doesn’t mind because he loves her. Anything to keep her alive, happy, and by his side in this world devoid of his former life…he will give pieces of his life for her body and mind to function without pain.

That is the contract he makes with Ganglöt to bring the Summoner back to him.

For the Summoner to remain with him, in the realm of the dead, he exchanges his life to replenish hers when they embrace and exchange sweet sounds.

He loves her, knowing that her unusual spells that leave her hollow are phases that will disappear in time. Thrasir reassures him that the Summoner’s unusual moods and personality changes are side effects until she accustoms to her body.

Until Kiran is strong enough, in body and mind, he doesn’t mind as her garment slips from her body and coyly guides his hand across her body.

Líf gazes down at Kiran—my Summoner—and they embrace as the heavy boughs scatter flower petals across their backs.

To love and to bloom, he believes their love is more than the scattering of petals.

He loves her, even if her hands carve out the fragments of his soul and life light.