#but the smile itself does not disappear!!!!! the restoration of her smile was like a whole thing!!!! what the fuck are you talking about!!!’

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Glass Onion really was just me yelling about how stupid Miles is the entire time and then feeling the satisfaction when the other characters realized it too

[sky-kiss]

Okay hear me out. This isn't exactly a request unless...👀

But the Raphael x Tav dynamic where he is the only one who can poke fun or give them a hard time is eating my brain.

Like "I can call them a vapid little fool, but if anyone else does the exact same thing it's hellfire and brimstone for them. For a hundred years."

He'd call it affection if it was in his vocabulary.

A/n: This is short, but I’ve been doing a lot of Carrot!Raph and not a lot of Stick!Raph. Some gore and torture ahead. XD Also I don't think this is what you wanted RIP.

__________

“All this caterwauling! You should really feel blessed, little lamb! I rarely sully my hands these days.” Raphael folded his hands at the small of his back. Isolated from the scene around him, the devil would have appeared perfectly genteel: his doublet remained pressed, hair immaculate. Only the eyes were different, violently bright in the prison’s omnipresent gloom. 

Souls and prisoners howled around them, some in agony, some in a desperate attempt to catch the Master’s attention. He didn’t hear; only his guest mattered. 

The cambion stopped, lingering just outside their field of vision. They’d finally stopped screaming, lapsing into hiccuping sobs, slumped in on themselves. Not his finest work, he’d be the first to admit, but the rage had come upon him too abruptly for a more cerebral punishment. He reached out, fisting his hand in the sweaty mass of their hair, and tugged their head back. Terror flooded their eyes; their mouth tried to curl back in horror but failed to manage it. His claws left the cheek a ruin of tissue. He tapped a nail against the wound. They knew better than to twitch away. 

“Remind me why I’m entertaining you, little one.” 

It took three attempts before they could finally choke the word out: “Duchess.” 

“Ah, yes. How forgetful! You will have to forgive the indiscretion.” Raphael stepped closer. He’d made quite a mess, honestly. Bones jutted from strange, haphazard angles; he’d removed a few in a fit of pique. He didn’t believe they were essential, but it was always so difficult to tell with mortals. He yanked, and the little thing screamed their anguish. “And what was it you said? Be specific; your life depends on it.” 

“W…whore. Whore queen. Raph…” they winced. The mouth couldn't form the words, an ever-increasing disconnect between the body and brain as blood loss took its toll. “Your cunt.” 

“An inelegant summation.” He wiped his hand on the thing’s shoulders, glancing across the chamber. “Care to vouch for them, duchess?” 

His pet chuckled. What a sight! His finest treasure, her gown set with gems, gold chains hanging about her horns. He had created art with her. “It is they say, my duke.” 

“And that bodes well for you, little one.” Raphael knelt beside them, stroking hair back from their face. They turned their face into the motion, an awful pantomime of intimacy. “Though…perhaps not as well as you might have hoped. I guard my treasures so zealously, and she is first among them. You understand, don’t you?” 

They nodded, miserable. 

“But I am not without mercy. Should you apologize to her…we could start fresh. Would you like that, little one?” He pitched his voice lower, speaking as if in conspiracy. Two friends, ready to make peace. They released a shuddering breath and nodded. Raphael held out his arm to his duchess. She came to him with vibrant eyes and a smile, a pretty reflection of all he’d accomplished. His conquest, his might, his pretty love. “Begin, wretch.” 

“Beg…beg forgiveness, dutchess. Please…gods, please, forgive us…” 

His duchess hummed. “You are forgiven, wretch.” And to Raphael, “My love, must you play with your food? Are you nearly finished?” 

“Very nearly, little mouse. First,” he withdrew a vial from his doublet, a draught of restorative waters. He held it to his guest's lips. Like magic, flesh mended itself! Wounds shrunk and disappeared! In a matter of moments, they were whole once more.

“Merciful King, kind lord,” they sobbed, crawling towards him. The wretch painted the toe of his boot with kisses. “Never again. Not a word against you or the lady will pass my lips.” 

“No. I imagine not.” He nudged their ribs with his boots. “Alas, our fresh start will have to wait. My duchess requires me.” The imps crawled forward, hungry and eager. “I leave you in my staff’s ever-capable hands.” 

[just-some-random-blogger]

Daemon opens the door, but only darkness reveals itself to him.

I've been revitalized. I've been restored. I love it when you can tell how good a writer is with how HOOOOOKED you get from the first line.

ITS JUST SO GOOD LEMME TALK ABOUT IT SOME MORE I DONT KNOW WHY I FIND IT HARD TO READ BUT FICS LIKE THIS REFILL MY LIFE BAR SLAYYY

"Are you hiding from me, woman?" he murmurs.

GOT ME GIGGLING INTO MY PILLOW. HES SO CUTIE PIE I WANT TO BITE HIM

He walks over to a small table with fruit and sweet dishes on it. He takes a bunch of grapes between his fingers before letting them disappear into his mouth.

Just a snack snacking on a snack NO YOURE A SMALL TABLE WITH FRUITS AND SWEETS ON IT 😁😍

OH SEGUE as I was reading the authors note I was like 💀💀💀💀💀 NOT ME FINDING THIS ON MY PERIOD NAUR

Anyway

"Has another moon gone by?" he asks into the room and turns to your bed, where he recognises the outline of a figure under the covers. A slight grin plays around his lips before he walks towards the bed.

What does he even mean bro

If you're gonna tease me, maybe less convoluted? Or am I just dumb is he just asking if it's her period again 😭😭✋

"What's that smell?" he asks.

And suddenly your voice rings out, "It's oak bark tea... My abdomen is a cramp," you mumble from under the covers.

IM NOT GONNA LIE TO YOU I WAS LIKE CAN HE SMELL HER BLOOD MKakksjsoskkskKKKkkkksnsns IM GLAD THATS NOT WHAT IT WAS "I'm bleeding your dumb blonde 🤬🙃"

"What have we got here? I wonder what trouble could be brewing under here," he says, reaching lightly for the blanket.

An ak47

He smiles at your words, "Why would I do that when I have such a sight in front of me?" he says, a hint of sarcasm still in his voice again.

What a lil shit. Annoyed annoying husband my beloved

You sigh again and already feel his large, surprisingly warm hand on your abdomen... a warm touch of your dragon.

🤨✋ hollup you telling me you're shocked your hot husband is literally hot. Jail. I mean ok I'm just dramatic. Go back to school OH SHIT SHE DOENSG AHVE EDICATIOND

"Ah, ah, ah," he says and lies down next to you, his arm wrapped around your middle.

WITH HIS SHOES ON??????? Actually he removed it shhh I saw it

"I want you to feel good, love... It'll help you relax..." he murmurs into your ear, nibbling lightly.

Your honor I'm scared

You gasp and hold his hand back, "Daemon... there's blood... a lot... it's the first day..." you say hesitantly.

ME. IM LITERALLY HER. except it's technically the 2nd day. BUT LICHERALAY HERRR

"Do you want me to take care of you?" he whispers, kissing the soft skin behind your ear.

He chuckles softly again, another kiss landing on your neck, "Love... a true warrior isn't afraid of a little blood..." he murmurs.

Ur right I do be likin u covered in blood bUT-

"That's it... I'll take care of you..." he whispers in your ear and you nod slightly.

-IM SO GLAD HE DIDNT EAT HER OUT COS THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT HED DO I MEAN SLAY MORE POWER TO YOU KING LOVE THAT FOR HER ALSO BUT GAAAHHHHH I FEEL LIKE I CAN ONLY PERMIT IT IF ITS A VAMP YA KNOW

He just grins as you avert your eyes and blush. You hear the smacking sound as he licks his fingers.

🧍‍♀️ see but I respect that [STARTS A CHAINSAW WASH YOUR HANDS] but u respect the munches everywhere (idk what a munch is tbh I feel like I looked it up but

your honor hindi ko po matandaan {I don't remember, THIS IS ALICE GUO WHOS A MEME IN MY COUNTRY BECAUSE SHE KEEPS SAYING THAT👎👎👎👎})

"And you are my wife. You may feel sick, you may bleed, sometimes I may even be the cause of your anger. But that's all part of your body's natural rhythm. So please, my sweet girl, never hide from the pain, never keep your misery a secret. Otherwise, I promise you, it will cause me more grief than your blood..." he says gently.

WHAT DOES HE MEAN 😭😭😭😭 HES GONNA KILL HIMSELF??? AHJAJSJSS THAT WAS A JOKE BUT WHAY DOES HE MEAN HE'LL BE UPSET MORE THAT SHE BLEEDS???? HUHH??? YOU DUMB FUCKNG IDIOT WHAY DO YOU EMAN

Fire and blood - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Author’s note: Before I got into my usual summary, this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and Daemon and being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it. Choosing our own characters and how to play the story.

Please find the masterlist of everyone's fics here.

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Summary: You haven't been married to your husband Daemon Targaryen for very long - but you've learnt to enjoy your marriage to the Rogue Prince. But unlike normality, you haven't sought out Daemon for a few affectionate visits throughout the day, and that makes him suspicious…

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Period smut; fingering (f in v), p in v sex - implied

Word count: 2.2 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Daemon opens the door, but only darkness reveals itself to him. He raises his eyebrows slightly, but steps into your shared chambers. He is looking for his wife, who has been by his side for several moons now.

During this time, he has already become accustomed to you seeking him out throughout the day, sometimes just to get a little peck and sometimes because you want to tell him something - but today you have not sought him out.

His heavy footsteps sound in your chambers as he walks further inside.

"Are you hiding from me, woman?" he murmurs.

He walks over to a small table with fruit and sweet dishes on it. He takes a bunch of grapes between his fingers before letting them disappear into his mouth.

"Has another moon gone by?" he asks into the room and turns to your bed, where he recognises the outline of a figure under the covers. A slight grin plays around his lips before he walks towards the bed.

But as he gets closer, he picks up an unusual scent.

"What's that smell?" he asks.

And suddenly your voice rings out, "It's oak bark tea... My abdomen is a cramp," you mumble from under the covers.

He's still smiling and comes closer to the bed.

"What have we got here? I wonder what trouble could be brewing under here," he says, reaching lightly for the blanket.

"No... Go away," you say quietly and try to hold the blanket tight.

But Daemon pulls the blanket down further and kneels on the bed with one knee.

"Ah... there you are... what a view," he says sarcastically as the blanket reveals your face. Your hair lies dishevelled on the pillow, your face a little sleepily puffy as your annoyed gaze meets his. "Yes....my beautiful wife," he says and smiles. He pulls the blanket down further and a "Go away," sounds from you again.

He smiles at your words, "Why would I do that when I have such a sight in front of me?" he says, a hint of sarcasm still in his voice again.

You sigh and try to turn away, but you feel Daemon kneel down further on the bed and his hand grips you gently.

"Ah, ah, ah," he says and lies down next to you, his arm wrapped around your middle.

His warm breath brushes the back of your neck as he presses his face into yours, "What's wrong," he whispers.

You sigh again and already feel his large, surprisingly warm hand on your abdomen... a warm touch of your dragon.

"I'm bleeding..." you say almost inaudibly, but Daemon hears your words and smiles slightly. He knows how you feel during your period. You're vulnerable and sleepy. The cramps force you to lie down and only warmth and strange teas from the maesters give you some relief... well, and other things.

But you're his wife and according to him, you should always feel carefree - but he can't refrain from teasing you a little.

"Pardon?" he whispers, smiling slightly, while you sigh lightly again.

"I'm bleeding..." you repeat your words and mumble into your pillow.

"Love..." he whispers again.

You close your eyes and feel this inner tension that tickles your fingertips.

"I'm on my period," you say a little louder into the pillow.

"Love... Sorry, I don't understand," Daemon replies and his lips graze your neck.

His behaviour makes you seethe, why can't he leave you alone?

"Daemon! Seven hells! I'm on my period! I'm in pain and I'm bleeding!", you call out and raise your head slightly.

He chuckles, "It's fine... no need to shout like that..."

You shake your head slightly, wanting to push his arm away, but he has a firm grip on you. His hand slides slowly downwards, his fingers make light, circular movements and you stiffen slightly.

"Daemon, what are you doing," you suddenly whisper.

"I want you to feel good, love... It'll help you relax..." he murmurs into your ear, nibbling lightly.

You gasp and hold his hand back, "Daemon... there's blood... a lot... it's the first day..." you say hesitantly.

He continues to nibble on your earlobe, his fingers sliding along your thigh, not in the least impressed by your words.

"You know there's nothing to be ashamed of. A woman's body is a natural, beautiful thing.... It's beautiful because it's you," he kisses your cheek and lets his nose glide gently along it. His hand strokes along your thigh and you feel a slight throbbing between your thighs alongside the numbing pain in your abdomen.

"Do you want me to take care of you?" he whispers, kissing the soft skin behind your ear.

You bite your lip lightly, but you shake your head slightly.

"Daemon... There really is a lot of blood..." you repeat your words quietly.

He chuckles softly again, another kiss landing on your neck, "Love... a true warrior isn't afraid of a little blood..." he murmurs.

His hand slides further, "Just relax..." he whispers and you try. Slowly, you close your eyes and try to concentrate on his touch as a heavy breath leaves your lips.

Gently, he kisses your neck and shoulder as he holds you close."It's nothing to be ashamed of either. Especially not my wife. It's natural," he whispers in your ear.

His fingers pull your nightgown up, very slowly. His fingers leave a fiery trail on your thigh and you try to ignore the dull ache that runs through your abdomen.

You can't suppress it, your hips begin to move in slight circular motions as his fingers glide through your pubic hair, caressing you. You gasp as you can already feel his arousal from behind as he presses himself lightly against you.

His fingers reach their destination, slowly running along your folds, and you gasp again – your legs spread slightly.

"That's it... I'll take care of you..." he whispers in your ear and you nod slightly.

The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers find your pearl and apply light pressure. Your legs spread wider and a smile graces his lips.

"Daemon..." you gasp.

"I know..." he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe again as his fingers rub gently over your clit.

"Your body is natural and beautiful. Even in all its bloody glory," he whispers and you nod, your breathing quickening.

He kisses you on the cheek again as his fingers tease over your glistening entrance, gently spreading your folds.

You feel the familiar stretch as his fingers slide inside you. But not all the way in, he teases you a little and you exhale heavily, your hips moving towards his fingers, longing for his touch. And then he fulfils your craving – his fingers stretch your walls, trying to find a good angle, pushing deeper. He revels in the slickness that coats his fingers, the evidence of your arousal mingling with the blood that flows.

"Feel how wet you are for me," he whispers teasingly, his smile pressing against the back of your neck.

"Daemon!" you gasp, but also a small moan leaves your lips.

He chuckles briefly, but your concentration is once again fully on his movements as his fingers penetrate deeper.

"Gods..." you gasp and he grins. Slowly, but firmly, his fingers push forward. He can feel your walls clench, longing for release.

"You know I love all the sounds you make, but I love your moans the most. I can feel your walls tighten around my fingers as if your body wants to hold me inside you while I make you tremble..." he whispers in your ear.

You moan again as his thumb grazes your pearl. He continues his expert ministrations, he is determined to make you forget the discomfort, to lose yourself in a wave of pleasure that only he can provide.

His fingers curl inside you, beckoning you as his thumb presses against your clit again.  You press your arse against his hardness and he moans into your neck. As he feels your hips moving towards his fingers, urging for more, he complies, increasing the intensity of his movements. He curls his fingers, angling them to hit that sweet spot within you, knowing exactly how to drive you wild with desire.

"Moan for me…" he commands, his voice laced with dominance, "Let me hear your pleasure, let it echo through these chambers."

And you obey as his fingers thrust deeper. He bites into your neck as his fingers tease your walls. His fingers continue their exploration, delving deeper inside you, seeking out the spots that make you writhe with pleasure. He maintains a steady rhythm, his touch skilled and attentive to your body's responses.

Smacking noises echo in your chambers as his fingers pump in and out faster. His fingers sliding in and out of your wetness with ease. With each thrust of his fingers, he can feel the slickness and warmth of your arousal, heightening his own desire.

He starts to apply more pressure and lets a third finger slide in. He knows what you like and he gives it to you the way you need it. He stretches your walls while they continue to clench around his fingers. Daemon's eyes gleam with a mixture of desire and possessiveness as he feels your response to his touch. He revels in the power he holds over your pleasure, his fingers moving with a practiced precision.

"Oh, my sweet wife," he murmurs, the words laced with a mixture of possessiveness and anticipation. "You are so responsive, so eager for my touch."

His body presses against yours, his hard length grinding against your backside as he continues to pleasure you with his fingers. His lips find your ear, his breath hot against your skin. Your fear of smearing him with your blood is forgotten, you need more.

"Daemon... Daemon," you whimper again and again, your arm reaching back, to the back of his head. Your fingers reach into his silky hair and he grunts. As he continues to drive you towards the peak of pleasure, Daemon's own desire grows, his need for release becoming undeniable. But at this moment, he's focused solely on your pleasure, on taking you to the edge and beyond, on helping you forget your discomfort.

"Yes... my love... Come on, come on my fingers, milk them like you always milk my cock when I fuck that delicious cunt," he growls into your neck.

And that pushes you over the edge. You cry out, your walls tightening around his fingers and Daemon grunts out.

You whimper, your hand gripping his hair tighter as he kisses your neck. Your eyes are closed, your breathing rapid as he pulls his fingers out when your walls stop clenching. A pleasant warmth flows through your abdomen, soothing away the pain more effectively than every maester's tea could.

As you catch your breath, you glance slightly over your shoulder and look at Daemon. He chuckles as he looks at his fingers, they're covered in blood.

"This is a sight I couldn't have imagined at the beginning of the day..", he kisses your neck again, "But I'm going to enjoy it“, he whispers into your ear.

"Daemon, no!" you say with wide eyes.

He just grins as you avert your eyes and blush. You hear the smacking sound as he licks his fingers.

But now you have to laugh as you stare at him again – his eyes are closed and he seems to be enjoying it.

"You're impossible..." you say softly as he still licks his fingers.

"Daemon, stop it!" you say and giggle, but he just grins and pulls you closer to him again.

"Delicious," he murmurs.

He starts stroking and caressing your belly again.

His breathing slows down as he holds you close. The sounds and smell of you, your little body in his embrace, it's almost more than he can bear at this moment.

He gently grabs your chin, as if he were holding something fragile and precious, and gently pulls your head upwards. When you return his gaze, it is gentle and tender.

"And you are my wife. You may feel sick, you may bleed, sometimes I may even be the cause of your anger. But that's all part of your body's natural rhythm. So please, my sweet girl, never hide from the pain, never keep your misery a secret. Otherwise, I promise you, it will cause me more grief than your blood..." he says gently. These moments with him are rare, but you savour them – your lovely husband. You lean towards him and let your lips slide onto his. He growls slightly and you feel his hand on your arse. You giggle slightly and feel his smile on your lips.

But the grip on your arse tightens and he pulls you towards him, positioning you perfectly against his crotch. He still can't hide his excitement and you gasp slightly. Your lips are still dancing around each other, you can feel the coppery taste on his tongue as he starts to undo his trousers. He growls again as his hand spreads your cheeks slightly and presses his hardness between your thighs from behind. You whimper as his cock slides along your folds.

"Let's see if we can give you a little more relief, shall we?" he growls against your lips and you moan as the tip of his cock presses against your slick entrance.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[engie-ivy]

Yes, he's in the hospital and doesn't remember anything about himself, but it's actually not that bad. His memories are sure to come back in a matter of days, and until then, he can spend time eating, sleeping, reading, daydreaming about that ridiculously attractive Healer...

(The aim is Funny and Fluffy Wolfstar)

It's Like the First Time

“Everything seems to be in order,” the Healer Trainee, Aubrey, says. “As we expected. How’s the dizziness?”

“When I’m laying down, it doesn’t bother me,” he replies.

“That’s good,” Aubrey smiles. “The dizziness and light-headedness should gradually disappear over the upcoming days, and then the memories will come back after.”

He nods. He’d be more worried about all his memories being gone if the Healers at St Mungo’s weren’t so certain they’ll all come back in a matter of days. Dizziness, light-headedness, and amnesia; it’s a familiar picture when being hit with a Confundo-charm from a defective wand, which the Healers have encountered many times before and has apparently happened to him during some friendly duelling.

It’s always the same picture: the dizziness and light-headedness slowly lessening, and the memories all coming back at once after two to at most five days. Like, one moment you know nothing, and the next you remember everything.

Well, he doesn’t exactly know nothing. His semantic memory is intact, meaning he has basic knowledge and remembers facts and skills. He knows he’s a wizard, he knows the hospital is called St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, he knows the people in the lime green robes are the Healers, he knows that since he’s a wizard he probably went to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he knows perfectly well how to perform a wide variety of charms, jinxes, hexes and curses. (So luckily those years at Hogwarts weren’t for nothing)

What he doesn’t know is anything about himself. His episodic memory, memory for any kind of life events, is completely gone. Who he is, what he does, what he has done, who he knows, it’s all gone. His own mum could walk into the room, and he’d think she was the laundry lady. (Luckily, she seemed like a very nice lady, and had thought it rather funny)

The only thing he knows about himself, not because he remembers, but because it’s the only thing they told him, is that he’s someone named Remus Lupin. Apparently, in the past, trying to fill in the gaps has proven to be more frustrated than helpful for the patient and, as the memories will come back on their own anyway, quite unnecessary. Therefore, they don’t tell him much else, and all he can do is wait.

Past experience has also shown that the patient often finds it quite stressful, and even frightening, to be surrounded by lots of people who all know him, and whom he feels like he should recognize, but doesn’t. Therefore, friends and family are only allowed in limited numbers, one new person a day, which started with his mum.

His mum had brought him his favourite novel, saying that he read it so many times, and would always wish he could erase it from his memory just so he could read it again with the same sense of anticipation. Well, she had figured this was his chance. Now, all he can do is lie in bed, read his book, and eat food, which is... Well, pretty great actually.

He doesn’t have anything to worry about. How can he worry about anything if he doesn’t remember anything? It’s like having a little break from life and all its expectations and responsibilities. (Though the fact that he’s so happy about having no worries, makes him think that this Remus Lupin normally worries quite a lot)

When a Healer comes to see him, he suddenly knows something else about himself: he’s very, very gay.

The Healer has a classic, aristocratic beauty to him, with his sharp cheekbones and full lips, and his eyes are of a clear grey, that appears silver, which contrasts quite nicely with the strands of raven black hair that have fallen from the messy bun on top of his head. And no one has the right to look that good in lime green robes, which he fills out pretty well with his lean, muscular body.

The Healer gives him a soft smile, and really, if he smiles at all his patients like that, the whole hospital must be diagnosed with palpitations. “How’re you feeling?” the Healer asks in a warm, deep voice.

He wonders whether his semantic memory has failed him after all, as he suddenly seems to have forgotten how speaking works. “Erm...” he says, very eloquently.

The Healer frowns, and looks at Aubrey. “Isn’t the confusion supposed to be gone by now?”

Aubrey looks from the Healer to him and back to the Healer, while a knowing smile appears on her face. “Don’t worry,” she tells the Healer. “He has been perfectly responsive and coherent all day.”

“Has he had some Anti-Confusion Concoction?”

“He’s had a small dose, as the confusion was already wearing off on his own.”

“Are you going to give him Memory Potion?” the Healer continues his questioning.

Aubrey shakes her head. “We have already given him Mandrake Restorative Draught against the spell’s physical effects. Adding Memory Potion might make the dose of Stewed Mandrake too high. As we can be certain all memories will come back on their own, it isn’t worth the risk.”

The Healer nods thoughtfully. “So only a daily dose of Restoration Potion until all effects have subsided, I assume?”

“Yes,” Aubrey agrees. “Based on past experience, that’ll in all likeliness be sufficient.”

The Healer turns his head back to him, and that soft smile is back in place. He opens his mouth to speak, but right at that moment, a bright flash can be seen, and a gazelle made out of shining white light is standing in front of them.

“I’m so sorry to disturb on a moment like this,” a stressed-sounding voice of a young woman comes from the Patronus, that is directing itself to the Healer. “But you’re needed back at the HADA department immediately! We’re having an emergency.”

The Healer curses under his breath. He takes a step towards the door, but then stops to look back at him with a pained expression.

“He’s in good hands,” Aubrey says.

The Healer nods. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he tells him, before hurrying out the door.

Though his mum was right, and the novel is really good, he has trouble focusing on it from that moment on. He’s constantly interrupted by thoughts of bright, silver-grey eyes. Merlin, he’s seen the guy once, and he’s acting like a twelve-year-old with a crush!

Telling himself off for it doesn’t stop him from looking up hopefully the moment he catches a glimpse of lime-green robes. It’s quite a disappointment when the Healer that walks in to check his vitals is a greying, grumpy man with a face that seems to be twisted in a permanent scowl. Asking him where the good-looking Healer went to seems kind of impolite though, so he just sits and nods whenever the Healer grumbles something unintelligible.

“So, why have I gotten a different Healer?” he asks Aubrey later, trying to sound casual.

“Different Healer?” she asks, not understanding.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling to his great annoyance that his cheeks begin to flush. “There was this older man checking up on me, while before, there was the young man with the broad shoulder, shining dark hair, sweet smile, pretty eyes...” He trails off.

“Oh!” Understanding, and a not insignificant amount of amusement, appear on Aubrey’s face. “Oh, he wasn’t not your Healer, sweetie! He was visiting.”

“Ah,” he sighs disappointedly. So the Healer had only been here for some sort of second opinion, and he probably won’t be back. It was too good to be true, to have a Healer like that around as a nice distraction.

“Healer Black works for the Healing Against the Dark Arts Department,” Aubrey continues.

“You know him?” he asks.

“I know of him. But honestly,” she adds with a wink. “Everyone working at St Mungo’s knows of Healer Black!”

He chuckles. “I suppose he cannot not catch your eye.”

“It’s not just his appearance,” Aubrey says. “Healer Black is the leading expert on healing Dark Arts-related injuries and combating curses from the Dark Arts. He has invented novel Healing Spells and revolutionized the protocol for treating curses. Healers from all over the world consult him on their cases, and patients come to see him from all over the world.”

“Wow...” he sighs again, but this time it’s a more wistful sigh. He doesn’t even care anymore that he sounds like a love-struck teenager. Maybe Aubrey will write it off as a side-effect of the Confundo-charm. He briefly wonders about that himself, but as those bright, silver-grey eyes come to mind again, he knows he’s under a whole different kind of spell.

“Yeah,” Aubrey smiles. “He’s quite a remarkable man.”

“So I guess I won’t be seeing him again then,” he says dejectedly, letting his head hang. He wonders why they’d sent that Healer to come see him in the first place, as he surely must’ve had better things to do.

He hears a choked noise besides him, and he looks up at Aubrey, who seems to be stifling a laugh, with her hand pressed against her mouth. “Don’t worry, love,” she says with obvious amusement in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of him.”

The young man sitting next to his bed has been talking about his wife and their baby for an hour straight. Though it really isn’t so bad. His stories are quite amusing, and the man is very charismatic. He has sparkling eyes, and hair so messy, he had immediately checked whether it wasn’t storming outside when the man had entered. He has a disarming smile and a contagious laugh, and is surprisingly easy to talk to. He says his name is James Potter, and he’s Remus Lupin’s best friend.

He has to give Remus Lupin a pat on the back for having made such a nice friend. Honestly, the idea of socializing with new people, trying to make friends, does not appeal to him, and he’s glad to know Remus already has them.

“And I just went to see Sirius,” James says. “Well, more like I was speed walking next to him in the two minutes he had to get from one room to another. He still managed to apologize twenty times though. Normally, I’d say he should be sorry, but the poor guy seems to hardly have any time to eat or sleep.” James shakes his head. “Did you hear what happened? Three children were playing in the woods, and they must’ve accidentally touched an unknown cursed object. They were brought in barely conscious and with a mother completely beside herself. So of course, ‘the widely renowned and highly acclaimed, capable-of-the-impossible Healer Black’ was the only one who might save them. And he has, as they seem to be recovering,” James adds, relieved. “But really, there aren’t many excuses that would justify him not being here, but having to save children’s lives is definitely one of them.”

“Thank Merlin those children are alright. That sounds- Wait,” he says, before sitting up. “Healer Black? You know Healer Black?”

James blinks at him. “Ehm... Yeah?”

“Merlin, that man is so handsome!” he exclaims. “He was here for like two minutes, before he got called away to other patients, but I just can’t stop thinking about him! He already looks perfect, and now you’re telling me that he’s some kind of miracle Healer saving children’s lives?” He sighs. “It’s just not fair.”

At first, James still looks confused. Then his eyes widen in understanding, and his mouth starts twitching like he’s trying to hold back laughter.

He doesn’t blame him. He’d laugh at himself too, with how ridiculous he’s been acting over this random Healer. He just hopes he won’t have embarrassed Remus Lupin too much once his memories have returned.

“Don’t worry,” James says, in an amused voice. “Healer Black will come back as soon as he has the time.”

Now, his own eyes widen. “You really think he’d come to see me again?”

James lets out a strangled noise and starts coughing, which he strongly suspects being a laugh quickly covered up by a cough. “Yes,” James replies, suppressed laughter still sounding through in his voice. “I really think so.”

He knows it’s rather pathetic, but as he’s got nothing better to do, he did it anyway. He practiced what he’s going to say to Healer Black when, or if, he comes back.

He’ll tilt his head slightly downwards, so he’ll look up at the man through his lashes, and then he’ll give him a coy smile, while softly saying ‘Healer Black. It’s so good to see you again. I’ve heard many great things about you, and what you did for those children is truly admirable.’ Luckily, flirting seems to fall under semantic memory.

However, when the moment comes that Healer Black enters the room again, his carefully constructed plan falls apart.

At first, he’s stunned that yes, Healer Black really looks like that, and he hasn’t made it better in his head. Alright, the man has bags under his eyes, his robes are rumpled, and his hair is slightly greasy and so much strands are peaking out of his bun, making it look more messy than what would qualify as a normal messy bun, but he still looks like the most beautiful person in the world. He doesn’t even notice Aubrey and James walk in after Healer Black.

He opens his mouth to deliver his carefully practiced lines, but the words die in his throat as Healer Black... Well, flings himself at him. He literally splays out on top of him, hugging him close and pressing his face in the crook of his neck. “I missed you so much,” Healer Black murmurs against his skin.

He freezes. Yes, he has forgotten quite a lot, but he’s still pretty sure this is not the standard operating procedure for Healers to greet their patients. “Erm...” He says, once again ever so eloquently.

Healer Black lifts his head and looks up at him in confusion, but he can’t possibly be more confused than he’s feeling.

James scrapes his throat. “Remus, may I introduce you to Healer Sirius Black-Lupin, your husband?”

“So neither one of you decided to tell him?” Healer Black has crossed his arms over his chest and is glaring at Audrey and James.

“I’m sorry, Healer Black!” Aubrey squeaks. “I know I should’ve told him, but it was just too cute, watch him be all smitten with his own husband.”

He isn’t really listening. He’s openly staring at Healer Black. Apparently, he bloody married the guy, so it’s allowed, right?

“I don’t know how you pulled this off, Remus Lupin,” he whispers under his breath. “But thank you, and kudos to you, mate, kudos to you.”

As he looks at Healer Black up and down (at some point he’ll really have to stop referring to his husband as Healer Black, probably), he suddenly really wishes for his memories to come back fast, as there are some things he’d really like to remember.

Though on the other hand, he thinks, biting his lip, maybe ‘Healer Black’ won’t mind freshening up his memory in the meantime?

“Ugh,” Remus groans, hiding his face against Sirius’ chest. “I can’t believe I was practically drooling over you!”

Sirius chuckles while he’s rubbing soft circles on Remus’ back. “You were cute.”

As a reply, Remus just groans again.

“I’m sorry, though,” Sirius says, suddenly quietly. “It wouldn’t have happened if I had been by your side as I was supposed to be.”

Remus lifts up his head to look at Sirius. “Hey, none of that! You were saving lives.” He presses a quick kiss to his husband’s lips. “You wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, and I wouldn’t have wanted you to be anywhere else.”

Sirius smiles softly at him, and Remus lays his head back on his chest. “Besides, it was a good reminder that I should be more proud of my accomplishment to get Healer Black to marry me.”

Sirius barks a laugh, that Remus can feel vibrating in his chest. “And how exactly was me down on one knee practically begging you to become my husband ‘you getting me to marry you’?”

Remus smiles fondly, happy that that memory is safely back in his head. “And it was nice to feel like having a new crush again,” he continues. “ All exhilarated, enraptured, and in awe.”

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of Remus’ head. “I feel like that every time I look at you.”

[bruhstories]

Fate

Summary: The Abduction of Persephone or how Levi couldn’t get you of his head.

Pairing: Hades!Levi x Persephone!Reader

Warnings & Content: nsfw, mentions of rape & incest (cause, you know, Zeus is a fucking entitled asshole and nobody fucking likes him), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, language, loss of virginity

Word Count: 5.1 k

A/N: literally the only thing I have to say is that for the purpose of this fic, Hanji has she/her pronouns, and the first few paragraphs are written in third person xD happy reading!

Help me...

Please...

Help... me...

Sweat drips from his forehead and his eyes shoot open. That damned dream again. That sweet voice again. Levi Hades can't comprehend why he was dreaming. Gods don'tdream. His bed seems empty, but he never needed anyone in it. For some reason, now he feels like someone is missing. He gets up, naked body and blank eyes watching over his realm from the balcony of his castle. Empty. Other than the souls of the dead that quietly dance around like little flames, it's empty. Other than Cerberus sleeping peacefully, it's empty. And so damn cold. Mortals mistaken the Underworld for a scorching hot place, but in reality, it's as cold as Levi Hades' heart. If he even has a heart.

He wraps his toga around his sculpted body, a wreath of laurels on his coal-black hair, donning his arms with silver bracelets and rings. Time doesn't exist in the world of the dead, but Levi Hades sticks to a strict schedule. He waves his hand and a scroll and quill magically appear on his marble desk. He can't trust Hermes with this message, and so he gives it to one of his dogs to deliver it to Hanji Hecate. Who better to interpret the meaning of his dream than the goddess of witchcraft herself? LeviHades surrounds himself in thick, grey smoke before he disappears from his bedroom.

Somewhere on Earth, Y/N Persephone is being watched by Zeus. The powerful god cannot resist such a beauty, and he is known for having his way with anyone, even his own daughter. But it's not her time, he thinks, not just yet. She knows this, she knows what will happen to her when she reaches the age of marriage, and at night, when not a soul is awake, she sobs and prays that someone will find her and help her. She is willing to do anything to escape her father's clutches and her dark future. And every night she cries, it rains — it pours.

At the outskirts of the Underworld, Hanji Hecate receives a message. She reads it carefully, and a knot forms in her stomach. The goddess heard the pleas of a girl, whom she believed to be a mortal, but if Levi Hades heard her, too, then it could only be another deity. HanjiHecate closes her eyes and performs a spell in the hopes of locating the desperate girl. It doesn't work. It doesn't work because, unbeknownst to her, Demeter is hiding her daughter from the preying eyes of Zeus.

They searched for weeks, mortal weeks, for the crying goddess, but none of them had any luck. Y/N Persephone is somewhere in the shadows of Demeter, but even she knows her mother can't protect her forever. Zeus gets what Zeus wants eventually. The sun rises over the meadow, but Y/N Persephone doesn't know that because she's stuck weaving in a cave, sweat dripping down her forehead, hairs sticking to her face. The drakons Demeter placed at the entrance of the cave followed Y/N Persephone outside, guarding her as she washes herself in a nearby stream. He isn't supposed to be there. Levi Hades isn't supposed to peer at her naked body and the way she splashes the crystal-clear water. He was supposed to meet with Hanji Hecate and take a walk. He was supposed to go back to the Underworld after that. Yet here he is, spellbound by her gestures, her face, her eyes. And then, she sings. Y/N Persephone begins to sing and all the flowers around him bloom. Levi Hades goes into a shocked state, eyes wide open, brows raised. He knows that voice. He knows it because he's been dreaming it. His scent is picked up by the drakons and he disappears, leaving behind a trail of smoke.

"I found her, Hecate. I found her, but I can't get close to her."

"What do you mean you found her? Just like that?" Hanji Hecate's fingers trace the bark of a tree.

"It was fate. It must be." Levi Hades is desperate now.

"Calm down, Hades. I've never seen you so... twitchy." She laughs, kneeling in the grass. The witch plays with some fallen leaves, brown hair flowing in the wind.

"That's because you didn't see what I did. She started singing and flowers bloomed! I don't know what kind of nymph she is, but she is beautiful. Nothing like I've ever seen before."

"Oh, I never thought I'd live to see the day Hades falls in love." Hanji Hecate laughs again. "So why didn't you approach her?"

"Tch, because she was surrounded by drakons. I don't understand why a mere nymph would need so much protection."

The goddess gasps, all traces of happiness gone from her face, replaced by disappointment and anxiety. Levi Hades takes notice of this and places his cold hand on the witch's shoulder, but she flinches.

"You can't have her."

"You knowher?" His voice is condescending, offended that his good friend hid something like this from him.

"Hades, she's Demeter's daughter, Persephone. She's not just some nymph, but the goddess of spring." Hanji Hecate brings her palms together, forming a triangle. "We can't talk here."

Levi Hades nods and lets himself transported to the Underworld, back to the familiar souls lingering in the air.

"Talk, Hecate." He is impatient and demanding, arms folded across his chest.

"Zeus wants her, and Demeter and I are keeping her hidden." The deity explains with pain in her voice.

"Yes, well, you're not doing a very good job, now, are you?"

"Oi, the drakons noticed you. You don't think they would notice Zeus?" She snaps back, traces of arrogance in her voice.

"Hecate... it's Zeus. What would stop that brat from turning into a drakon fool her?"

The goddess shivers, shifting her weight from side to side.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"I do, actually. I'll bring Persephone here." LeviHades proudly states, but his face is still blank, not once betraying his true feelings.

"You'll... what?" Her mouth is slightly open, bewildered by the god.

"It's the only place Zeus doesn't have access without an invitation. Face it, Hecate, it's a good plan. Better than yours, anyway."

Hanji Hecate is speechless, completely at a loss for words. She ponders over the idea, a hand brought to her chin to think better.

"Alright, but what makes you think she'll just stroll through the gates of the Underworld without a complaint?"

"Oh, you've mistaken my words. I'll forcefully bring her here." He tilts his head, a semblance of a smirk on his lips.

"For fuck's sake, Hades, she's not what you'd expect. And what about me? I promised Demeter I would protect her!" HanjiHecate throws her hands in the air, her shadow taking the form of a raging dog.

"Do notchallenge me, witch. You know I can destroy you in the blink of an eye." LeviHades growls and her shadow restores itself to its natural shape. "Besides, you would still protect her. The Underworld is where you abide."

She knows she shouldn't carelessly be out in the open one hour before her coming of age. But Y/N Persephone, with tears streaming down her beautiful face, embraced her future. She knows Zeus will come for her, and so she willingly gives herself to him. With poppy seeds, she put the drakons to sleep and left the cave, clad in a sheer toga, her body visible through the transparent fabric.

"If you want me, come and get me, father!" Y/N Persephone screams at the skies, the flora surrounding her slowly turning a dark shade of brown and dying, just like her innocence would die tonight. The earth shatters behind her, marigold flames and ashy smoke cracking open the soil. Shadowy figures emerge, grasping the young goddess' limbs and they drag her down, down, down to the Underworld. She is afraid, her heart beats faster as the moonlight disappears, and all she can see is darkness.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be gentler, but I didn't want Zeus to get the wrong idea."

"You're Hades, aren't you?"

"Yes, but please, call me Levi. Persephone, I presume." Levi doesn't smile, but his voice is warm, contrasting the cold that surrounded your body.

"Don't call me that." You spit back, confused as to why you were in his realm in the first place.

"You should be a little more grateful that I saved you, brat." He narrows his eyes down at you.

"Saved me? You abductedme. You're no better than him."

Hanji Hecate was right, you had fire in your soul, and an attitude that would drive Levi over the edge.

"Tch, don't compare me to that pretentious cock." The god scoffs and your expression softens.

"Zeus is a... cock? With a beak and feathers?" You giggle and he almost wants punch himself. How could he forget how innocent you are? Clearly, he's been spending too much time with Minthe.

"That's one way to put it."

"Is there another way?" You ask with your index finger brought to your lips, pure curiosity in your eyes.

"Forget that, you said you didn't want me to call you Persephone. How else should I address you?"

"Y/N." You tell him, eyes peering to the balcony of his castle and you skip to it. "Oh, this place is huge! What are those?" You point at the colourful flames dancing in the air.

"Souls." Levi joins you, resting his arms on the marble railing.

"They're beautiful!" You are in awe, and he is just as mesmerised by your beauty. Not one sane god or goddess would consider the souls of the dead beautiful.

"Look, Y/N, I heard you. In my dreams, I mean. I'm not going to hurt you, I brought you here to rescue you." He lies through his teeth. Levi did want to save you, he still does, but he can't deny the fact that he wanted you all to himself. "I'm gonna mind my own business, you mind yours. Try not to break anything. And don't, under any circumstances, make a mess out of my castle, or my realm."

You lean on the railing, nose scrunched and a hand on your hip.

"What am I supposed to do, then? And what about my mother? What about when spring comes and I have to bring it? What about Zeus?"

Levi grits his teeth, almost regretting his decision of saving you.

"Tch, I'll deal with Demeter. I'll tell Zeus I'm marrying you. You can go bring spring when it's due. Happy?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"And you won't taint my innocence?"

Oh, he will taint it, alright. But not just yet.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

"You still didn't answer my first question. What am I supposed to do?" You shift your weight from one leg to the other, impatiently waiting for a proper answer from your captor.

"Anything you want, just don't get in my way when I'm dealing with the dead."

"You're an aggressive little man, you know that?"

Levi can feel a blood vessel bursting on his forehead. You were truly annoying, but he couldn't just sit around and wait for Zeus to have his way with you.

"Anyway, I suppose it is safer to be here." You rolled your eyes. "Got any books?"

"What, you read?" He snorts, a condescending brow arched.

"Don't patronise me. You're the one who abducted me, you could at least try to be nice to me."

Levi sighs. This wasn't how he imagined things would go. He imagined you'd make the perfect housewife and keep him some company.

"First floor. Just stay out of the restricted section."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Zeus' beard, are you always this irritating?"

"Are you?" You chuckle, a hand hiding your smile.

With another sigh, Levi disappears, leaving you alone. "Great job, Y/N, you made the only person who took a crumb of pity on you to go away." You say to yourself, a pout on your lips.

The Underworld wasn't as bad as you thought. Sure, there was the occasional fire popping from the ground here and there, and you had to be careful not to burn yourself, but overall, it was serene. Some parts of it were scorching hot, but mostly it was cold, and you always brought an extra cloak with you when exploring the realm. Levi wasn't always with you, in fact you haven't seen him in days, but you met his three-headed puppy. Well, puppy wasn't the best word to describe the creature, and it did try to eat you the first time, but you stood your ground and tamed the beast with your singing and eager belly rubs.

"This is a sight I never thought I'd live to see." Levi is shocked, watching his raging dog so calm. "Cerberus never lets anyone but me touch him." He gives the dog a few pats on his back.

"Well, Cerberus likes me better, don't you? Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are!" You kiss all three muzzles and hug the gigantic beast, the heat of its fuzzy body warming you up.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself. Come here, Cerberus." Levi extends his arms and the creature is confused. "I said, come here."

The dog stops wagging its tail and plops next to you with a groan, one head resting in your arms. The shit-eating grin on your face is enough to make Levi sigh.

"See? I told you he likes me better." You poke your tongue out in triumph. You wave your hands and the god watches how you place three daffodil wreaths on each of Cerberus' heads. "Much better!"

"Y/N, he looks silly."

"No, he looks adorable! Here, I made you one, too."

Levi takes the flower crown and inspects it, careful not to crumble the petals.

"What is this?" He asks, marvelling at the beauty of the ice-blue colour of the plant.

"Uh, a flower crown?"

"Yeah, no shit. I meant what flower is this?"

"Oh, it's a blue poppy. One of the rarest plants in the world." You smile. "I think it suits you."

"You're an oddball."

You sit in a lavish chair, all kinds of foods displayed on the table in front of you. Saliva pools in your mouth, but you decide to wait for Levi anyway. It's bad manners to start eating without the host, Demeter taught you that. Gods and goddess don't eat mortal foods, but sometimes they indulge in it, and tonight was one of those nights.

"Here, try this." Levi offers you a strange fruit, something humans have on earth, but different.

"What is it?" You poke your finger at the juicy fruit, sucking the sweetness from your digit.

"It's a pomegranate that only grows in the Underworld."

You pick at the seeds, popping one in your mouth. You couldn't believe something so good could grow in a cold place like this.

"So, what's the occasion?" You ask Levi as you eat three more seeds, the crimson juice staining your lips.

"Our wedding."

You accidentally swallow, choking on saliva and the pomegranate seeds, your fist hammering your chest as you gasp for air.

"What?"

"I told Zeus I'm marrying you and now he wants proof." Levi bluntly states, a chalice of nectar in his hand.

"No."

"You don't have a choice, unfortunately."

"But… I'm supposed to be a virgin. Marriage implies consumption of it." You slam your fists on the table. "My mother-"

"Your mother lied to you. You're a goddess of fertility for fuck's sake." He shrugs and you're shocked by how chilling his voice sounds. Sure, Levi was always brooding and silent, but now he was just inconsiderate. "However, I'm not a man who breaks his promises. I told you I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"Oh, how niceof you. I'm leaving." You stand up, pushing the chair away.

"And go where? Demeter can't protect you forever, and you don't stand a chance against Zeus."

"You know why I hate my name so much, Levi?" You growl, fingernails digging into the wooden table.

"Do, tell."

"Because it means destruction. A fitting name for a goddess of ‘fertility’, don't you think?" The table splits open and all the plates fall to the ground. Your normal, bubbly aura changes suddenly and there's a hint of red in your Y/E/C eyes. "You think I don't stand a chance against Zeus? I'm his offspring." You snap, and instead of flowers falling out of your hair, there's thorns, spikes and rusty leaves all over the place. The uglies, most poisonous plants sprout from the ground and you're no longer the goddess of spring, but the bringer of slaughter, and Levi is impressed. Now he really knows it was faith that brought you together, he knows your place is with him — with the dead.

"Marry me." He says, unmoved by your little show. Unmoved on the outside, because on the inside he wants to bend you over and fuck you silly. His words shouldfuel your rage, but you're too surprised by the fact that he still wants to marry you, despite your outburst.

"Why? Because Zeus wants that?" Vines protrude from your skin and your fingernails turn black. You were completely different than the helpless little girl he rescued that night. You were terrifying. But not to Levi — to him you were fascinating.

"Because I want that."

It was safe to say you had fallen in love with Levi in those nine months since you came to the Underworld. He accepted you the way you were, he accepted your darkness, something not even your mother could do, and that's what triggered your feelings for the god of the dead. You still didn't allow him to call you Persephone, because you still hadn't fully embraced that part of you. Spring was almost due, but you promised Levi you'd go to earth after your wedding. Everyone would be there, including Demeter, which you haven't seen in a long time.

A soft knock interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N, are you ready?"

"In a second, Hanji!"

"Oh, thank the gods for calling me that. I keep telling everyone I'm tired of Hecate but they don't care." The witch scoffs from the other side of the door.

"Has my mother arrived?" You ask, concern visible in your voice.

"Yes. And she's not happy."

"Hey," you open the door, "thanks for taking the blame and explaining things to her." You hug the goddess and she holds you tight.

"Don't worry about it, kid. It's me who should thank you. I don't know what you did to Levi, but he seems happier. He won't show it because he's a prick, but I can feel it."

You flash Hanji a genuine smile and ask her to fix your veil, to which she gladly accepts before escorting you to the castle grounds. Your mother should do this, but she hated her future groom, or your father, but he was a sick man who only decided to leave you alone because he respected Levi.

Every god and goddess of Olympus is here, even your uncle Poseidon. You emerge from the castle, arm looped around Hanji's and you smirk at Levi's shock. He never thought you could be more beautiful, yet here you are, dressed in silk, flowers on your hand and a thin veil clinging from the peony crown on your head. You catch a glimpse of Demeter before drifting your eyes to your future husband.

"Ladies and gentlemen, gods and goddesses, we have gathered here today to witness and bless the union between Levi, god of the Underworld, and Y/N, goddess of spring." Hanji proudly declares. The ceremony doesn't last too long, and when Levi's lips crush yours in what is your first kiss, thousands upon thousands of plants sprout from the soil, colourful flowers blooming and letting out the sweetest smells known to mankind. Love, he thinks, that's what love smells like.

You're tired from the party, tired from all the talking and mingling, tired from your mother's lecture, and tired from avoiding your father. At least Hera was nice enough to wish you a happy marriage. You pace around your bedroom, sitting on the bed, then standing up again. Levi went to his chamber after the party, but you were expecting, no, you wanted to consume the marriage. You walk to his room, a toga lazily draped over your shoulders, and open the door without a single knock. He's in bed, the only light source being the colourful souls levitating outside his windows. You carefully push the covers and climb into the bed, gently scooching closer to him.

"Psst, husband, are you sleeping?" You poke his shoulder.

"Tch, not anymore." He sighs, not bothering to open his eyes and look at you. "What do you want?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked! Seeing as we're married now, I thought it's only natural for a wife to sleep with her husband." You roll on your side, propping yourself on your elbow. Tentatively, you tug on the fabric of the toga, exposing your shoulders and part of your breasts.

"So sleep." Levi finally lolls his head to the side, facing you. He did not expect to see you sprawled on his bed like that, in a lewd position and a playful smile on your soft lips. "You don't have to do this just because we're married.

"I'm doing it because I want to. And I know you want it, too, Levi." You purr, your fingers grazing over your collarbone.

"It's going to hurt." He warns you, but his hand is already on your thigh.

"I know. But you'll take good care of me, won't you?"

Levi has no idea which one of you is talking — Y/N, goddess of spring, or Y/N, goddess of destruction — and frankly he doesn't even care at this point. As long as he has your approval, he knows he can do whatever he wants. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, obviously inexperienced, but he likes it that way. He likes that you have no idea what you're doing because he can be in control. His hand runs up and down your thigh and you can feel heat building in your core.

"Tingles..." You mumble in his lips with a hazy smile.

"Have you ever touched yourself?" Levi pulls away and you nod. "Show me."

You feel embarrassed and small, but obey nonetheless. Your hand travels between your legs and your fingers touch your already swollen clit, rubbing it in circular motions. Levi watches you with hungry eyes, wanting very hard to abstain, but he can't, and so he takes your nipple in his hot mouth. You whimper at the new sensation, electricity shooting through your body as he snakes a hand between your thighs, two fingers diving into your cunt.

"Ah! L-Levi! So big!" You mewl and he throws his head back, releasing your poor nipple.

"That's nothing compared to what you'll get, you needy brat." He curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot, and you buck your hips. Despite being a virgin, your body naturally knows what to do. Your spongy walls clench around his digits and Levi can already feel how tight you'll be around his cock. "You're so wet."

"Is t-that a good thing?" You're innocent and pure and you rock your hips back and forth, pathetic moans escaping your lips.

"Fuck, yes." Levi kisses you, and it's nothing like the kiss from your wedding. It's desperate and greedy, and he wants you all to himself. The pace quickens, he's pumping his fingers in and out of you faster and you don't know what to do, so you keep rubbing your clit and the familiar heat of your orgasm flushes through your body. You come undone on his hand, the sinful, squelching sound echoing in the bedroom.

"It didn't hurt at all!" You look at your husband, but there's a hint of mischief in your voice, a playful glisten in your eyes. Levi clicks his tongue, because the worst — and best — is yet to come, and you know it — you're no saint.

"Come here." Levi orders and yanks you by the hair, his aggressive gesture sending a shiver down your spine and into your cunt. "Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me."

You obey and part your luscious lips and then you see his cock for the first time — thick and veiny, it slaps your face as it pops out of his undergarments, the tip grazing over your cheeks.

"Levi that's... that's too big." You chew your lower lip and lean back.

"You'll be fine. You said it yourself, I'll take good care of you." He cups your face with one hand, thumb caressing your chin. "Now suck it. Make sure to use lots of spit."

You feel your cheeks hot and test the waters by giving the glistening tip a few licks, tongue swirling around it. It tastes salty, and you find yourself liking this. Levi pats your head, but you feel him tensing with each movement of your tongue.

"Shit." He curses under his breath and when you look up at him with doe eyes, his heart pounds into his chest. You courageously take the tip into your mouth, and with hollowed cheeks, you move further. "Yeah, just like that. Take it all."

Bobbing your head up and down, you try to take it all, but the girth and length is just too much, and tears pool at your eyes from the lack of air, but also from how good it feels to have a fat cock in your mouth. Muffled moans reverberate in your throat, and Levi can feel the vibrations tickling him. He firmly grabs your nape and holds your head in place.

"Trust me and relax, can you do that for me?"

You half-nod, anxious and somewhat excited for what is about to happen. Your husband rocks his hips back and forth slowly before aggressively fucking your poor throat, and you feel the arousal building in your core again. So much for promising your mother you'd always stay a virgin. You want to touch yourself again, but Levi slaps your hand away and thrusts into your mouth, holding your head still until you choke, your fingernails digging into his arm. The god pulls out and you gasp for air, and he almost feels sorry when he sees your pathetic state.

"A-again!" You flash him your pearls in a sultry smile, spit dripping down your chin. Who knew you liked asphyxiation?

"Needy brat."

"Please!"

"Tch, later. Right now, I want to fuck you." Levi growls and he already has you pinned on the bed, arms above your head and legs spread open for him. His cock presses against your slick slit and you brace yourself for the incoming pain. "If you want me to stop, tell me."

You don't have the time to nod when you feel a burning sensation between your legs. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bury the back of your head into the pillow and grip the sheets so tight your knuckles begin to lose their colour. Levi slowly pushes further, another inch buried in your cunt, and you bite on your lower lip. But you don't tell him to stop, instead your spongy walls clench around his cock and another inch gets lost in you.

You never thought gods could feel such immense pain, yet here you are, with a bloody lip from digging your teeth into it and a sore pussy. But the worst thing faded bit by bit when Levi bottomed out into your cunt. The two of you sit still, your husband allowing you to get used to his girth.

"Do you think I bled?" You ask, eyes filled with tears.

"Probably, but I promise it will never hurt like this from now on." He comforts you before licking the blood from your lips. The gesture makes your cunt flutter and Levi takes it as a sign to go on. Slowly, he rocks his hips back and forth, and the molten pain is replaced by tingles and arousal.

"You good?"

"Y-yes, oh, f- yes!"

"You can say fuck, you know?" Levi thrusts once, and it's so deep you feel his cock brush over your cervix.

"Fuck!" You cry out, legs wrapping around his waist to make sure he doesn't pull out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Good girl."

There's no more room for gentle touches and soothing words when your husband fucks you raw. Your hips buck against his to feel that sweet pressure you never knew you longed for. In and out, his cock makes you feel sore and hazy, and you want more. The sound of his balls slapping your ass makes your mouth water and your eyes glossy, and Levi feels selfish. He pulls out, turns you over and takes you from behind, like a rabid dog fucking a bitch in heat. And you are in heat — you love the way his thrusts make you feel dumb, the way his cock stretches you, the way he uses and abuses your tight little cunt. Everything is so new to you and you adore every bit of it.

"Shit, I'm close." Levi warns you, his fingers digging into your hips, and you want to be good for him, so you drag your hand between your thighs and rub your swollen clit in frantic motions.

"L-Leeevi! I think I'm-"

"Fuck!"

When you feel a hot liquid shooting into you, your legs begin to tremble and you come on his cock, head falling onto the pillow with a heavy sigh. He pulls out and you already miss the feeling of being full, your juices mixed with his own dripping down out of you, down your thigh. You curl up next to your husband, hand holding his arm before you drift to sleep.

A sweet smell fills Levi's nostrils and when he looks at your tired body, there’s flowers in your messy hair. He still can't get used to the way your divine, disorganised powers work, but at least now he knows what's been missing from his life, and the corners of his mouth slightly twist upwards into a genuine smile. The god of the dead, in love with and married to the goddess of spring. Order and chaos blending together in one beautiful, perfectly arranged mess.

It’s fate. It must be fate that brought you together — but it’s love that will keep you together.

tagging @starrynightlys @stolemyheart12

[somatheking]

This conversation was beginning to be taxing. 

He was aware that in the Borderlands, there were as many people who clung to their past lives, as people who refused to talk about it and left it behind, and it was precisely because of this fact that most people (of course, there were exceptions like Kuina or Mira) treaded with caution when asking others personal details about their life. This woman, however, had launched an avalanche of questions at him, all very specific and unfit for a first interaction. ‘What if there’s someone you can’t save?’, ‘You get to choose who lives or dies’, ‘You’re supposed to save everyone?’ 

“I became a doctor for the same reason you became an art restorer, because it’s what I had passion for,” he answered, trying to keep his tone neutral but accidentally letting a hint of annoyance slip. “It’s a job with a very simple objective: to help the patient with their ailment. Everything else is secondary and frankly, all these moral questions are something the public is more concerned with than we are.”

This woman wasn’t going to last more than a week at most in the Beach, he decided. Too nosy, and seemed the kind of person unwilling to bend to someone else’s rules. If she believed Hatter’s nonsense, she’d probably begin to hide cards, and if she didn’t, he was sure the militants would find an excuse to deal with her. It wasn’t worth getting worked up over. Yet, ‘you’re supposed to save everyone’… 

“What if it wasn’t your life on the line, but your siblings’?” He asked, a cynical smile drawing itself on his face at her morality speech. “If there was nothing you could do but decide whether to trust in the good of other players to save their lives, would you take that gamble?” It was easy to make decisions and boast about believing in humanity when the only thing at risk was your own life, something you were responsible for, but when it came to loved ones? Suddenly all that faith disappeared. That was a different matter. 

“Oh, would you look at the time,” he said, looking at his wristwatch. “I’ve got to meet up with Kuzuryuu right about now,” at 19:37 exactly, a very normal hour to meet up,  “to talk about… materials I need for the infirmary. Inventory issues.” He didn’t even know if Keiichi was in his room, but at that hour of the day, unless something had arisen with Hatter he probably would be. "Really nice talk, though. We should continue another day." He'd rather pull his own teeth out.

You’re supposed to save everyone.

----

“Hey,” says Soma, as he enters the room and sits on Kuzuryuu’s bed. Kuzuryuu, sitting on the chair by his desk with an open book between his hands, first peers at him above his glasses and then closes the book, setting it on the table and turning his chair to look at Soma. He doesn't look annoyed by his presence there, then again, he never does, so he can't tell if he's simply become used to it by now or he just doesn't mind interruptions.

“Hello,” he greets. “No patients today?”

“I already finished for the day. What are you reading?”

“Crime and Punishment,” he replies, and Soma scoffs. He’s reread that at least three times since they’d met each other, and it was by no means a short novel. He's never quite understood his obsession with it, though.

“You’re always reading that. Kinda makes me consider picking it up. Would I like it?”

Kuzuryuu’s lips curve into a slight smile, amused. “No. You’d probably think Raskolnikov is ‘a whiny bitch’, in your words.”

“You think? Why?”

“Raskolnikov believes that extraordinary people are above the moral law and kills an old woman to prove he is one of them, though he ends ups killing her sister too. Then he spends the rest of the novel feeling guilty about it to the point of falling victim to illness and delirium, and ends up turning himself in.”

“Yeah, a whiny bitch. Who would I like, then?”

“Based on what you’ve told me about your experience as a medical student, I’d say you’d enjoy Kafka. He wrote a book where Poseidon, the greek god of the seas, is so busy with paperwork every day that he has never once seen his own domains, and finds this perfectly normal. And his most famous book, Metamorphosis, is about a boy who wakes up transformed in a cockroach, and-“

“I know Metamorphosis,” he interrupts brusquely, but Kuzuryuu seems unphased.

“And did you like it?”

“I- I said I knew about it,” he replies, defensively. “I’ve never read it.”

“Well then,” says Kuzuryuu, with an affable smile and a tone that lacks judgement. “If it ever piques your interest, you can take it from my room.”

“I actually didn’t come here to talk about books,” says Soma, and before he can continue, Kuzuryuu lets out a small laugh, deep and gravelly and unmistakably fond.

“Excuse my laughter, but when have you ever?” 

“Shut up.” Soma isn’t the biggest bookworm, a fact that for some reason amuses Keiichi to no end. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

Kuzuryuu nods, encouraging him to continue.

“Did you find my game too predictable? The maze one”

Kuzuryuu furrows his brow and leans forward. “I helped you make that one specifically. Why would I help you produce something I believe to be bad?”

Soma sighs. Sometimes it took asking the same thing twenty times before Keiichi decided to give a coherent answer instead of going around in circles. Lawyer habits, he thought. “Okay, I can rephrase the question if you’re going to be difficult about it. Do you think my games are predictable? Should I be making them harder?”

“Why would you want to make them harder? Since when has your objective been to kill more people in your games?”

“You’re twisting up my words now,” protests Soma. “I never said I wanted to kill more people. Just wondering if I should make them more challenging.”

“More challenging games means less chances of survival for the players,” countered Kuzuryuu. “The maze game was the 4 of hearts, if I recall correctly. It’s a low difficulty game, so why would you want to make it intentionally harder than it should be?”

“Because… okay, don’t laugh,” he starts, pointing a finger at him as Kuzuryuu feigns an innocent expression. “Today, this girl told me my game had been ‘too obvious’, that it had been clear from the start that the animal sounds were a recording, and, in her words, ‘whoever designed it did an awful job’. So, I don’t know if-“

He’s interrupted by an actual laugh this time, one that makes Kuzuryuu’s chest heave and causes him to have to take off his glasses. It would be nice to witness if only he wasn’t so annoyed. “I’m sorry, Soma, is this about impressing a girl?”

“No! You’ve got it all wrong.”

“About your ego, then.”

There’s a pause, because it might be about exactly that, but now Soma doesn’t feel like admitting it. “I’m going to stop coming to you for advice,” he says instead, a threat they both know is empty. “It’s not worth the headache I get afterwards.”

“Of course,” replies Kuzuryuu, nodding. “No one’s forcing you to do that. You can always come to talk about other things. Books, perhaps?”

Hello, Cass, is it? I thought I'd introduce myself since we've got so many things in common; I'm also a hearts player and I wouldn't hurt a fly! You seem to be a bit in shock due to the nature of these games, if you ever need someone to talk to about them, you'll find me either in my room or the infirmary. I've endured and planned many brutal games, so I know how hard it can be to cope afterwards. I hope to see you more around here.

Hi.

Yes, Cass. And you're... Soma? Resident doctor?

Ah, yes, I'm a Hearts player. At least that's what Hatter called me. But I would hurt a fly. I probably wouldn't kill it in a horrible, horrible way, though.

I guess you could say I am a bit traumatized. I just never expected to see so many corpses, at once, and the fact that I could join them at any given minute... Not good. But I'm coping. Better each day! Making friends. Trying to get my sister a hot date with Aguni. Little things in life.

Which brutal games have you endured? So far I've only been in a few of them... I kind of want to know more, but also not. Like when you see an open wound and you can't stop staring, you know?

[steambend]

steambend’s end of year fic rec list [2020]

so i thought i’d just collate a list of my favourite fics i read this year. i’ll split it from completed to ongoing, and it will go from general to mature rated fics (each category is also in alphabetical order, because i’m that bitch). i’m sure most of these fics you will have seen or read before, but i wanted to get them all in one place and maybe start an annual tradition on my page!

these are all zutara fics

completed fics, rated: general

beautiful by dyce

zuko cannot stop noticing that katara is beautiful. 

brightest in the dark by soopersara

a less-than-friendly interruption in the crystal catacombs pushes zuko and katara together, and they have to work together to find a new path.

canon divergent from crossroads of destiny

completed fics, rated: teen and up

mending wounds by fictionissocialinquiry

'the fire prince is older. you can see it in the calmness of his expression, the relaxed carriage of his shoulders. he is smiling at her. she's never seen the fire lord's son smile.' while lost in the foggy swamp, searching for her brother and her avatar, katara is haunted by visions of the fire nation's disgraced prince. visions of peace after war, visions of honour and secrets...

stealing from pirates by dyce

without zuko to rescue her from the pirates, katara is captured... and finds that they already have a prisoner in desperate need of her help.

such selfish prayers by andromeda3116

katara's ambition, so long set aside for the good of others, breaks free and sets fire to her soul. or, katara has a vision of her canon future, casts it aside, and becomes a world-changing politician instead.

the color of the stars by bluenebulae

“roads were made for journeys, not destinations.” ― confucius

one moment changes the course of history. katara and zuko are imprisoned by the fire nation army during the day of black sun, and when they escape, they find themselves adrift in the fire nation with no one to rely on but each other. with only six weeks before sozin’s comet arrives and four nations to cross, the pair must track down katara’s allies, save the world—and learn to trust each other.

canon divergent from part 2 of 'day of black sun.'

there are worse things i could do by orosea

she thinks of how this must be so easy for sokka, to be married at home, to someone of his culture. she has nothing against princess yue, the sickly girl is kind, and frankly, far too good for sokka. which is the problem. sokka is in love with her.

and what does katara get? a marriage to a firebender. thrown into a country she doesn’t know, like fish carcass, to the nephew of the fire lord.

for her tribe, she tells herself.

rounding the edges by sadladybug

it can take some grit and hard work to grind out the sharp edges, but the effort can produce something that shines. a zutara oneshot in which katara learns a few new things about zuko, including the fact that he may be very difficult to live without. featuring unexpected teamwork, tense training moments, and more than a few awkward conversations. canon compliant(ish), book three beginning sometime between tsr and eip.

what fortune lent by lewilder

au; the southern raiders' mission aims true and katara is taken to the fire nation as a prisoner of war. as her circumstances and the political climate change, she forms unexpected alliances and makes it her mission to restore her people and find the avatar.

completed fics, rated: not rated

and you feel your heart (taking root in your body) by raisindeatre

"no one is now what they were before the war." - catherynne valente

after everything - the comet, the war, the coronation - katara tries to find the road back to herself. somewhere along the way, she also finds the road to zuko.

ongoing fics, rated: teen and up

in the kingdom of heaven by nautica_dawn

in her later years, katara will look back on the agni kai against azula fondly. in her younger, more immediate years, she wishes she'd turned down zuko's offer.

polar nights by crystalline talisman

in order to arrange a treaty for the long standing war between the water tribe and fire nation, prince zuko is sent to the south pole to arrange a truce by fire lord lu ten, where he is greeted by subzero temperatures, sea prunes, and quirky customs. this of course, is a cake walk compared to the revelation he'll be marrying the stubborn spiritual leader, katara. au. zutara.

the chief and i by jassmarie19

when the fire nation decides to take over the world, it is the temples that go down first (peacefully, and no one suspects a thing). then their eyes turn towards the mainland and all is lost for the earth kingdoms. at this onset of war, the southern water tribe shuts itself off from the rest of the world. it is a challenge at first, but the fire nation decides they have loftier goals than the tribal people of ice and water. they are forgotten.

a century has passed. the fire empire runs the world, emperor azulon at the head with his grandson, the herald of light, prince zuko of the southern isles by his side. fresh off winning the last vestige in the earth kingdom, prince zuko travels to the south to gain the last of the free world. but they come to the southern water tribe knowing nothing but snippets saved before the conquering. the herald of light has a lot of work ahead of him if he is to convince their vexing chieftain to surrender. the fate of the great imperial empire counts on this.

this might as well happen by owedbetter

stranded in a foreign country during a pandemic, zuko has a crazy idea.

ongoing fics, rated: mature

southern lights by colourwhirled

a world where the avatar has disappeared from memory. where sozin’s conquest was successful. where the unsteady order of the empire is threatened as members of the royal family are picked off one by one and lines are slowly drawn in the sand.

one last chance for peace forces an unlikely alliance between a homesick waterbender, a carefree air nomad, a runaway earth kingdom heiress, and the fire lord's inscrutable son. together they must learn to shed old enmities and become the balance they seek to restore to the world.

or:

the avatar has four heads.

x

[[chapter 4: "and always, his eyes, cautiously watching her. even when he thinks she isn’t looking. it drives her mad"]]

waste no more time by owedbetter

'waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. be one.’ - marcus aurelius

no one knew where the painted lady of republic city came from. they only know that one day, she did. healing the sick, fighting injustice where she could, and ruining profiteering capitalist organisations when she could.

and ozai corporations will stop at nothing to put an end to this brand of vigilante justice, even hiring the elusive powers behind blue spirit investigations to seize and desist her from further damaging the chaos her revolutionary care is inspiring among the people... by any means necessary.

a tale of justice, love, and revolution.

and that is it! happy reading guys, and feel free to reblog and add your favourite zk reads of 2020

[rokutouxei]

like flashes of starlight

genshin impact | G | 4331 | ao3 link in bio xiao / aether

summary: Xiao’s entire existence is rooted in Liyue, all thousands of years of his life, and when he begins to develop a fondness for a traveler whose journey takes him farther than he can ever imagine, he finds himself seeing his much smaller world, its time and space, a little differently.

--

Liyue Harbor will always be in a state of flux—always changing, always inviting the newness of the world into its docks. History will paint it in vibrant colors, its most beautiful traditions alongside the innovations of ever-changing cultures. But to Xiao, Liyue will always be the same.

His Liyue. His to protect. Rex Lapis’ Liyue.

The fittings may change, but the core is the same.

When he’d first met the traveler, a thought crossed his mind that slowly embedded itself deep into his consciousness. Xiao knew with one glance that Aether was not of Teyvat. The way he held himself; the way he wielded his elemental powers; the mere energy of him was not human, or demon, for that matter. Aether felt like something different, like the night sky, broad and all-encompassing to those on the ground.

Had Xiao’s apprehension not superseded his curiosity, he would have asked: what does Liyue look like, to an outsider like you?

As a fellow outsider, do you see it as I do?

-

Rex Lapis’ decree is simple. Protect Liyue. Vanquish demons. Restore order through slaughter. Purge evil through battle. Nothing more, nothing less. The five yakshas' existence, purpose, and meaning all lie within that framework of being the weaponry by which Liyue is guaranteed safety.

As the last remaining of the five, despite being also assisted by the many remaining adepti, Xiao holds his mission close to his heart.

When the threat of Osial befalls Liyue, both the mortal millelith and Qixing, and the mighty, illuminated adepti come to the rescue. It is not easy to put aside their differences, but in the end they come together to fight for their nation, standing on top of the Jade Chamber, overlooking the monstrous water dragon haunting them all from the past. All are willing to fight until their deaths. But there is another one, standing on the battlefield, that does not need to be there—and yet is there—and does not back down despite every opportunity he gets.

Aether.

Aether is not of Liyue. Aether doesn’t even look like he’s from anywhere in Teyvat, for that matter, the true fittings of an actual wanderer, as if he were from an entirely different world of his own. And yet he is here. Bruised and still injured from a previous battle—he had heard the floating girl that they had come from the Golden House, and a battle with a Fatui Harbinger had led to the summoning of Osial—Aether still stands with the rest of them, ignoring any weariness from previous battles.

“What can I do?” he offers, and the adepti share a look at each other as if gauging the situation. They know. It is not exactly easy to hide that Aether is not like other travelers, other adventurers. They lend him their power. Slowly, gauging how much he can handle of their energies. They convene on the ballista, fighting Fatui and avoiding the strikes of the fallen god, water blasting them painfully.

At some point during the battle, Aether and Xiao meet back-to-back as they dodge from an attack. The former glances at the adeptus with an unreadable smile.

Xiao has long been used to being the strongest one on the battlefield, the one most proficient at killing. But with Aether here by his side—blocking and returning a strike, a Fatui agent dropping to the ground—there is a feeling that fills him about having someone near his equal, if not even stronger, fight with him.

Excitement? Thrill?

The tiniest bit of lax, like he would be safe with him?

So when the ballista cracks open with a particularly hard strike, and Aether has no choice but to obey gravity, Xiao does not fight the instinct to leap between debris to catch him before he lands on the ground.

Only a quiet tsk comes out of him once Aether is safely in his arms, to which the other’s gasp of surprise melts into a brief, sheepish grin.

He'd imagined the traveler would ease his murderous workload—not add to it. And right now, Liyue might be lucky to have a willing outsider to help them out in such a time of crisis, but like this… Xiao wonders if the nation will be any safer with a savior as reckless as him.

-

Aether calls it an offering out of jest. Xiao seems exasperated every time, but he does not reject the plate of almond tofu that gets offered to him anyway. Besides, it tastes different when it’s the traveler that makes it.

It is unfair in a way that Xiao hears ahead if Aether might pass by the Wangshu Inn—related to commissions from Verr Goldet or Huai’an, or perhaps from a brief sighting of him from the mountains of Liyue. But he finds it no sort of nuisance, because that only gives him more time to prepare himself to meet the traveler.

The plates of almond tofu, like all offerings to archons and adepti, are made with a wish in mind. Like this, Aether subtly asks for a sliver of time, a moment with some company other than his floating companion. And the Xiao before Osial, before saving Liyue, well, he would have turned him down, would have thanked him for the plate and then disappeared into the night, but—

Here, he does not.

Instead, he guides Aether up to the rooftop of Wangshu Inn. Here, the history of Liyue unfolds behind Xiao’s eyes, a history he knows like the back of his hand. Jueyun Karst to the left. Dihua Marsh to the right. And should the night be quieter, and Xiao allows himself to stand on the lower floor, there are the broken ruins in Guili Plains, where the war he had fought still rings clear.

Wangshu Inn fills his mind deafeningly with memories, but when Aether is there, all goes quiet.

Sometimes, Aether talks to him. Speaks to him of developments in his journey, or about a notable yet stray monster that he had fought with. Other times, it is mundane stories of his adventuring with Paimon. But a lot of times, Xiao’s company seems to be enough, Aether looking out at the view with an indistinct expression on his face.

It is in moments like these that Xiao recognizes something in Aether that he’s only ever seen in a mirror.

A deep welling of sadness. One that has been sharpened and smoothened and shaped by time.

Is this why Aether smiles at him like he understands his loneliness?

“My sister,” he said once, voice nearly just a whisper, “I’ve never been without her this long.” And that was it. No other explanation. He does not expound on what it means. It feels too heavy to say anything more than that. So when Aether leans his head against his shoulder, awake but not quite in his head, Xiao lets him, letting his questions disappear in an exhaled breath.

Eventually, if the Archons allow them, Aether will know of his secrets in time. And Xiao will know of his secrets in time.

Right now, it does not feel like it is his to ask.

But he can stay, he can keep watch, so that he does.

-

It isn’t that Xiao does not understand what draws the citizens of Liyue—and other nations as well—to the yearly celebration of Lantern Rite, it’s just that such a loud and joyous eruption of fervor has always had a different connotation to him, the one who protects Liyue from the monsters hiding in their shadows.

While Aether explores the newly-decorated streets of Liyue with the enthusiasm of a young tourist, streamers of red and lanterns bathing the city in a beautiful gold, Xiao looks over the harbor feeling like a foreigner. He hates the Lantern Rite. And not only because of the general adepti dislike of mortal life. Of course, he will never be one to complain about his duty, but the pain… The Lantern Rite is flashy and joyful—exacerbating the usual haze of the residual hatred of defeated gods.

On those days, Xiao finds no rest.

(Not that any kind of rest has ever been truly restful, not in what seems like ten thousand years.)

No room to breathe. Only the briefest of moments between fighting tainted monsters that spawn from the ground, his spirit black and blue and choking from corruption.

His one fear is what would happen to Liyue if one day, he becomes unable to fight?

When the karma that weighs down on him becomes too much for him to bear?

He has to continue to believe in his battle, lest he forgets it.

He sees the lanterns and chants to himself, like forcing himself to believe it:

It is worth it.

A camp of hilichurls reek blackness, slowly creeping into the territory of Wangshu Inn. There are innocent people there. As silently as possible, as to not draw any more attention, he quickly clears them, granting no mercy. Their anger dissipates from their bodies and sinks into his skin.

It is worth it.

Their eyes all black now, growling and hissing, a group of vengeful, corrupted treasure hoarder spirits track a caravan carrying stocks of food and materials on its way to Liyue Harbor. They promise sickness and death to whatever they touch. Before the driver and the millelith even notice him creeping by, the spirits are dealt with. When he breathes in, he feels them calling him unforgivable.

It is worth it.

He’s never been partial to crowded areas, not with his constitution being as it is. He’d rather be as far away from other people as possible, as to not bring any more danger than he already must. All of this human experience of the Lantern Rite—peeking in between stalls, checking wares, tasting the festival food, creating lanterns—are for individuals like the traveler.

There is evil out there to be cleansed, he does not have time for “merriment.”

Which is why he does not understand why Aether does not understand.

Why they insist to “bring the Lantern Rite to him”, serve him food that reminds him of sweet, sweet dreams. What they get out of dragging him all the way to the outskirts of Liyue Harbor, if only to overlook the Mingxiao lantern, a quiet reminder of a battle fought what feels like eons ago. The closer they get to the festivities, the more Xiao feels out of place, the more he wants to run.

But he does not, because Aether is by his side. And on the walk to the harbor, he asks Xiao about the Lantern Rite, as if he hasn’t heard about it before. Forces Xiao to form the words with his own mouth. Filling in the blanks when he no longer knows what to say; when he’s forgotten what it truly is now, to the people he is protecting, what happens on the stage while he is on the sidelines.

That the Lantern Rite is a celebration of the new year, a thanksgiving for the previous year’s joys, and a prayer in anticipation for the coming year’s blessings. That the Lantern Rite is a commemoration of its long past, its commercial hub status getting adorned with its intricate history, traders and storytellers coming together to speak of old wars and adepti and long-fallen gods.

Lanterns as beacons in the night, guiding bygone heroes back to their homeland.

Aether could be fair and say it as well, but he gives Xiao a taste of his own medicine and lets it sink in on its own.

This celebration is for you too, Xiao.

And when the traveler is long gone, he and Paimon in the streets of Liyue no doubt looking in awe and wonder at the culmination of the Lantern Rite festivities, Xiao sits on top of the mountainside on the outskirts watching Liyue light up with brilliance.

And he tells himself:

It’s worth it.

This is worth it.

Perhaps on the next Lantern Rite, Xiao wouldn’t mind taking a walk in the city with him.

-

No one prays to adeptus Xiao.

Not in the same way other adepti have served the citizens of Liyue, at the very least. There are no prayers of good tidings and great harvest; no pilgrimages made up to abodes to seek wisdom.

This has never bothered Xiao in the slightest, not in his hundreds of years of service.

It is better off this way. He doesn’t have what other adepti like Mountain Shaper or Cloud Retainer can offer, no knowledge and insight that he finds worth sharing. Even half-adepti like Ganyu would perhaps have more to give to a longing pilgrim.

The only thing Xiao can give is his executioner’s blow.

That doesn’t stop him from hearing them cry. Wishes for death from the most desperate, like silent bells tolling in the dead of the night. Demands for violence that are whispered into the traitorous air, reaching his ears without fail. They don’t have to speak his name for him to feel their prayers.

They twist, turn, mutate into the most horrible of requests, the hatred and miasma from old fallen gods corrupting even the most innocent of pleas, Xiao’s spear materializing in his hand as if on instinct, to kill, to eradicate, to cleanse, to kill kill kill kill—

This is why Xiao does not like to sleep.

Slumber means dropping his guard, letting the swirl of the voices take over him until he’s at his most vulnerable. Sleep is only more cause for trouble.

The yaksha soon learns, however, that sometimes, it is worth the spare openness; his emotions remaining unsaid and yet seen, somehow, because Aether is Aether. Xiao wonders if, to the traveler, he is transparent. Aether does not even flinch when Xiao misses to restrain the growl that crawls up his throat in response to the clamor of pain. Instead, the golden-haired boy readjusts where he’s resting his head on Xiao’s shoulder, and reaches the small distance to place his hand on his. Rubs two, three gentle lines with his thumb on the back of the adeptus’ hand before he promptly falls back into slumber, a well-deserved afternoon nap after a long morning of commissions.

Xiao’s spear dematerializes without a sound.

And, equally quietly, loud in its silence, Xiao rests his head against Aether’s, and closes his eyes.

-

Anger is not an emotion Xiao would associate with Aether, and yet here they are, at the highest peak of Qingce Village in the late afternoon, after he had asked Xiao if he knew someplace quiet where they would not be interrupted.

“I don’t understand,” he says, sat down with his arms on his knees, his head on his arms, curled up in a ball. Xiao stands next to him with his arms crossed over his chest, listening patiently. “She didn’t want to. …I’d finally found her, and yet…” There lingers the quiet kind of anger, voice calm yet cold. On the inside, Aether is trembling with irritation and swaying with dismay. The backlash of betrayal. “We’ve been separated for more than five hundred years.”

I’ve never been without her this long.

For what seems like an eternity after that, Aether is quiet. Understandably so. This is none of Xiao’s concern, at least not in the sense where he would have the duty to step in, and yet the chaos of it is one he could only ascribe to be some sort of nightmare. Perhaps similar to the ones he gets often. He imagines Aether’s world turned cleanly upside down—those he had considered his greatest allies now potentially his worst enemies; and that he had thought was his enemy is under the hand of the one person he trusts the most in the entire universe.

It is heavy.

In the silence, Xiao recalls when there were still five yakshas around. How the mist of karmic pain that entangled around them for eons of dutiful slaughter had begun to choke them, turn them into twisted versions of themselves. He had seen each of them fall from being unable to tolerate the agony.

He worries the same might happen to Aether. He worries that when that happens, he will only be able to watch, the same way he did back then.

That he would have to be the last resort to slay him.

It is only when the sun is long out of the sky when Aether speaks again, his voice hoarse as if he’d been screaming, sobbing openly—“I want to go home.”

Xiao… places a comforting hand over Aether’s shoulder. He knows that Aether would have been ready to go in a heartbeat. That Teyvat and Khaenri’ah are nothing but a blip in the grand canvas of his journeys. And that, unlike him, all permanent miasma and choking with his feet sunk into the ground, unable to move, forever rooted in Teyvat, in Liyue, in his karma, Aether has and always will be like flashes of starlight, beautiful and faint and gone in a moment.

That he would be gone before Xiao learns how to miss him.

The only question the yaksha has is, when he finally goes, if he would take the rest of Xiao’s heart with him.

-

He would have pulled a classic “foolish mortals” had he known no better about Aether’s own expansive lifetime. Like this, then, perhaps they are the same in their foolishness. At least the citizens of Liyue know better than to acquaint with him, their guardian whose only strength is in pursuing death. They hear the mere word of him and they scutter in the opposite direction. It is better that way. It is safer that way.

But Aether does not, and now it is too late.

Xiao stays up late wondering how much of what has befallen Aether is from him. How much of it is his own karma, spread by their bond—whatever sense he may make out of it—and leading to the other’s pain? Aether complains of nightmares, of being in that domain and calling out for his sister, only to be pushed back, thrown off, like he had never been wanted in the first place.

So Xiao sets up for an apology for what he has done, the least he can do for spreading the black miasma that surrounds him into someone unrelated like Aether, but the latter only throws him a look of confusion that slowly evolves into a now-familiar, cryptic smile.

“Why would I want to sever it?” Aether asks, “I’ve never thought of that, Xiao.”

Xiao is quiet, too dumbfounded to say another word.

So instead, Aether puts his hands over his hips and says, “When I am in Liyue, you make me strong, Xiao, knowing you are out here protecting the land as well. I have no regrets about being close to you.”

Then stay, Xiao nearly says.

“What does Liyue look to you,” Xiao finally asks, though he intones it not quite like a question, like he’s still apprehensive about it. Aether turns back toward him, all gold eyes and hair, stars in the night sky.

“Beautiful,” the traveler answers immediately, as if he had long thought of it that way. “Rich in its history, steeped in tradition. And with guardians that look after it long after the people have forgotten them in time. It’s a stunning nation.”

Then stay.

“I know you keep yourself all wrapped in secrecy for the people, but—think about it, everything they do is in debt to you.”

“A debt that does not need to be repaid,” Xiao says. “I only follow through Rex Lapis’ original decree.”

“And that’s exactly why it’s so praiseworthy.” Aether nods to himself. “It’s a negative cycle where only you bear all the consequences. Had they known about you—should they still honor you the way they did then—they would see you as the hero that you are, Xiao. As the hero I see you as.”

Then stay.

Yanxiao avoids eye contact with Xiao but does not hesitate in giving Aether a judgmental look when he orders a plate of almond tofu for breakfast. What the cook doesn’t know is that it’s a reward for a restless night of nightmares, and an apology for a friendship that has always been wanted.

For the something more that cannot be claimed.

As they share the plate of sweet dreams, Xiao realizes, while looking at Aether enjoying a bite, that one day, like everything else that has happened in the past, he might be able to forgive himself—forgive Aether—for what they have done to each other. No grudge can last a thousand years. And should the thousand years pass—well, Aether would have been long gone, and Xiao knows better than to dig himself an even deeper grave for his sorrows.

Xiao has lived more than a thousand years in the loneliness, where there is only his spear and his darkness, but now, bathed in starlight, he feels lost and ill at ease. Perhaps, in a different life, things would not have ended this way, and there would have been compromises to be made, and there would have been promises to be kept. He considers the possibility of a universe where that occurs, if it would be better, if it would be worse.

The young-seeming adeptus searches his heart, only to find no answers.

 -

The prowess of that one mortal Beidou is not one that has escaped Xiao, and once Aether informs him that she would be allowing him safe passage into the closed country of Inazuma, Xiao is certain the traveler would be alright. It doesn’t entirely ease his worries, however, so once the day of departure arrives, he slips into the nearby Guyun Stone Forest to observe the ship as it prepares to sail away.

His mind is so clouded he doesn’t hear Aether approaching him from behind.

“Xiao?”

The adeptus feels a pang in his chest in the other’s tone of surprise; on the other hand, a breeze of thankfulness fills his heart—perhaps he is less see-through than he’d once thought. He turns to the golden-eyed boy with his usual blank face, hoping his mask does not break.

Paimon speaks before he can. “Are you here to say goodbye, Xiao?”

“Hmph.” If he was, he would need more coaxing to admit it. “I wanted to see to it the ship wouldn’t sink before you’ve even left Liyuen premises.”

Aether smiles like he knows what that sentence really meant. Xiao wonders if Aether really understands, or he just likes to believe it is that way. “Thank you.”

He’d promised once, after all, that he would protect Aether, hear his call, for as long as he is in Liyue. Anywhere beyond there… is entirely out of his jurisdiction.

“You know,” Paimon begins, crossing her small arms over her chest, “Paimon thinks it would be great if Xiao came with us. Then I wouldn’t be worrying so much about you getting in weird stuff, Aether.”

Xiao gets interrupted before he can reply. “That wouldn’t be a nice thing to ask, Paimon,” he explains, patting the fairy’s head gently before turning to Xiao. “Liyue is Xiao’s home, he belongs here. I can’t take that away from him—and him away from Liyue. Don’t you think, Xiao?”

Home, huh?

Two pairs of gold eyes meet, and in the other, Xiao sees a longing that he wonders is what foolish mortals would call love.

“May your journeys allow you to reach your sister soon,” is, instead, what Xiao settles with, and Aether pulls out another one of his cryptic smiles. Like he hears the Thank you. Like he hears the Liyue—and I—will always be here. Like he understands the I hope you, too, reach and return to that place where you belong.

Like he knows this is a goodbye, but of a different sort.

Xiao is too far from where they are to be visible when the two get on the ship. They wave vaguely in his direction, his attention called back by a whisper of his name in a familiar voice, carried by the sea breeze. Xiao watches as the anchor gets hoisted, the sails opened, and the ship begins to make its way into the great sea. Once it is out of his sight, he has no way to find out if Aether will be alright.

At dusk, the stars are beginning to come out, perfect for wayfinding. Its deep blueness is all-encompassing, as if cradling Xiao in familiar darkness.

The adeptus raises his head to the wide sky. The god he has worshipped is dead. Only Archons know where his pleas will end up in. But even if he does not know who will hear his wishes, for Aether—he prays.

-

Time is a silly thing. At first, a day feels like a hundred years, and then, a hundred years pass by in what feels like mere days.

What felt like the entire world once is now but a passing memory.

Liyue Harbor will always be in a state of flux—always changing, always inviting the newness of the world into its harbors. History will paint it in vibrant colors, its most beautiful traditions alongside the innovations of ever-changing cultures. But to Xiao, Liyue will always be the same.

Once, there was a traveler that roamed the landscape of Liyue, changing it and influencing it wherever he went. Shifting its colors; turning it upside down; leaving his stardust on it.

Liyue will always be the same.

The same harbor.

The same rooftop on Wangshu inn.

The same cliffside in Qingce.

The places Xiao went to, trying to understand what Liyue looked like to one who had come from the heavens, looking down.

The traveler he wished on stars to.

Xiao still finds him everywhere, in things beautiful and faint and gone in a moment.

[scullysexual]

s8 post-existence fic; morning don't come

[@today-in-fic]

When she wakes, William is gone. As is Mulder, the space beside her cold and empty to the touch. She’s out of bed before she can think, ignoring the protests from her body, her gun cocked and ready between her hands.

Panic grips her, a heavy weight pulsating through her chest, dropping down into her stomach over and over again. Like tailing a suspect, time slows down, her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. She listens to the tell-tale signs of feet shuffling across the flooring, peeps through the gap to catch sight of any movement in the shadows. She hears nothing.

Nothing but the faint sound of whispering, Mulder’s voice low and soothing.

Scully relaxes, panic abating. She places the gun on the dresser and pushes the bedroom door open, Mulder’s voice becoming audible.

“…Can you do that for me, Buddy?” he’s asking. “Will you take care of her while I’m gone?”

Gone? Scully freezes. The only place he is going is with them, why did it sound like he was saying otherwise?

Mulder sits on the couch, a blanket wrapped around him for warmth, knees drawn up towards his chest. Scully notes there’s a black shadow that sits between his thighs and chest.

“William,” he mutters, sounding out his name once more. “William, William, William.” His finger strokes the baby’s cheek. “Mine,” he says in awe. “You’re mine.”

Warmth runs through Scully, ridding her completely of any prior panic or worry she had felt before. William was gone from his crib but she needn’t have worried, he was safe here with Mulder.

She must have made a sound for William startles, a brief moan falling from his mouth, and Mulder’s head darts up. Their eyes connect across the room and Scully smiles apologetically for disturbing their moment.

“Come here,” says Mulder gently, a moment later and without a seconds thought she is going over to them.

“Sorry if I woke you,” he says when she sits.

Scully shakes her head, not quite sure what it was that actually woke her. Maybe it was just the absent presence of William in the room.

“Neither of us could sleep so I thought…” He shrugs, looking down at William.

However startled he might have been, he got over it quickly. His eyes shut, mouth slightly open, tiny specs of saliva falling from his mouth. Scully smiles at the sight.

“What were you saying to him before?”

She keeps her gaze on William, remembering what she had heard, knowing she had missed the beginning. Will you take care of her while I’m gone? She didn’t like what it implied.

“I, um…” She hears his stutters and her stomach clenches even more. Whatever he has to say, it isn’t good, like she suspected.

His hand touches her cheek, fingers soothing across the skin like he did earlier with William. The action makes her look up, imploring him.

“I don’t think it’s fair to drag William or you around the country with me,” he says. The air grows stale, his touch on her skin cold. What was he saying?

“He- you both- deserve be surrounded by family. I don’t have family anymore, it’ll be easier for me to disappear.”

Scully shakes her head, not wanting to hear it. “We’re your family, Mulder,” she states, looking down at William then back at him.

He smiles, reaching to grasp her hand. “Yes you are,” he agrees. She can still hear the awe laced in his voice. “And that’s why I’m telling you this. If anything where to happen to you or to Will while we were on the run, I couldn’t live with that, Dana, I couldn’t live with myself.” She can hear what he’s saying but she doesn’t want to believe it. She tries to feel angry over the decision instead, letting it build in her chest, preparing herself to lash out at him.

“I know you see reason Scully,” he’s saying and she shuts her eyes against his words because Yes! Yes, she does see reason. “Don’t let your hurt get in the way of that.”

Her fists clench as she turns away, feeling the tears start to well. Mulder reaches for her hand once more.

“I don’t want our last night to be spent with you hating me, Scully.”

She lets out a breath, her eyes reopening and looks down to William soundly asleep, unaware of the turmoil around him.

“This is why you couldn’t sleep?” she asks.

He nods. “Partly.” At her questioning look he explains. “I don’t want morning to come.”

It dawns on her then. He doesn’t want to leave and why would he want to? If they lived any other life, lived as any other people, this situation wouldn’t have presented itself. They could stay here, a happy family, safe in their home.

But they weren’t safe in their home. Mulder wasn’t safe in this home. His being here now was dangerous, to himself and to them. A man wandering alone was much more conspicuous than a man, a woman, and a baby. Mulder going alone would protect him and them.

If something were to happen to you or Will, I couldn’t live with that, I couldn’t live with myself.

He didn’t want to leave, but necessity forced him too, she knew that now.

Scully stands, wiping at her nose and eyes and reaching her arms out towards the bundle Mulder holds.

“I’m going to put him back to bed,” she says and Mulder nods, passing William to her.

He’s stretched out when she returns, his stare glued on the light from outside the windows. Dawn. Morning was near.

Scully climbs onto the couch, slides herself along his body, head coming to rest on his shoulder. His arms wrap around her, face falling into the top of her head. He’s warm, a furnace constantly turned on, and Scully finds herself succumbing to sleep but like Mulder, she too doesn’t want morning to come.

“When will I see you again?” she whispers into his shoulder.

“I’m not sure,” he replies honestly. “But I’ll try to keep in contact when I can, when it’s safe.” His hand absentmindedly trails up and down her arm and Scully struggles to keep the sleep away. “I won’t forget you, Dana.”

She snuggles into him, eyes closed, breathing in his scent. She won’t forget him, either.

“I’ll try to send you pictures of William growing up, I’ll tell him about you.” She won’t let William forget who Mulder is.

He presses a kiss to her temple, whispers, “Thank you.”

Mulder lets out a deep breath, and sleep is tickling her feet by this point, she’s ready to slip under.

“You should sleep Scully,” he says. “You need it.”

He wasn’t wrong, a harrowing birth such a William’s, her body needed to restore itself. Besides, she’ll be woken up in a few hours by an angry, hungry baby. Yet, there was one more thing she needed to tell him.

“Mulder.”

“Yes?”

“Please be here when I wake up.” There’s a small hesitation but he squeezes her in his arms.

“I will be,” he promises.

Finally, she lets sleep pull her under, warm and content in Mulder's arms.

[flour-cloud]

Henlo fandom! Now we explore that angst situation where Alcina is drunk by a excessive amount of maiden's blood and passed out in front of Donna's door. Mention of: self-inflicted pain, blood, tortures and loss of children.

It is a cold, dark night. When that forgotten-by-Gods village had a night with a full moon and shining stars? Something that was remotely...nice? Alcina was devastated by Ethan's murder of her daughters, she managed to survive by pure accident and the basements smell so good, that place looks so inviting and tempting: darkness, loneliness, silence. Peace. A dead woman rotten to the core clearly belonged to a place with that aura. A long,red,solitary tear run from her eyes to her neck all the way down that white, burned and ripped dress she loves so much. Alcina put her head under the blood line in a tub full of sanguine Virginis than she walks out the door. That disgusting human stole the body of her angels after the fight. If the vampire had a heart she probably would ripped it off her chest. The lady of the castle try to sit on chair made of iron spines in order to feel something different. Maybe that inflicted pain is the proof she has a heart,but one that does not pump anymore. If she peeled her skin maybe she would find crystals, something more noble than that rotten corpse that she is.That numb in her mind ... she was unable to say a single word about anything. The blood she drunk is restoring her body-structures and organs, but she has no urgency of breathing. Suddenly,when the moon reveals itself trough clouds Alcina decides to stand up and drink some more. Her head only reminds her how disgraceful that behaviour is.

So Alcina walks for minutes,for hours, ignored by monsters on the streets,by animals. And she passed out in a foggy zone she does not remember .

Angie opened the door.

"Mom! That tall busty woman smalls bad! Maybe is dead! Can we use her skin? May I have her claws? We can cut them off! " suggests the creature .

It is not usual that Donna moves to the front door from her chamber and her laboratory in the house,but when Angie calls mom should be there, no? A woman passed out at her door? A tall,busty woman? Maybe Alcina? That sounds bad. She paused for a moment and she looks down at her feet the big, stained and smelling body. "Call for help,Angie " Donna decides abruptly "no,darling, you can't have claws from her,she is alive. Very alive, stinky, but alive".

A bunch of clowns and creepy broken dolls help to transport Alcina inside.

Donna is disappointed when Alcina's blood stained the elegant sofa, she scrunch her nose a bit. "Now what? I am bored,mom". "Now we wait, Angie, come here" that authoritative and quiet calls is enough for the doll to obey happily.

Alcina opens her eyes.

"What happened?"asks Donna "miss, what happened?".

"I ... Bela,Cassandra...Daniela" the vampire tried to speak with a bit of fake confidence "they are gone. My precious angels are gone" more blood more tears more stains shaking in her big, massive body.

"Ethan" Donna is clever and fast in deduction "I have to give him the second piece of that baby".

"Miranda will scold you" a fake answer to something that was not a question.

"I am not afraid of her" Donna answers "are you afraid of Mother Miranda?"

"You should. She is immortal until we gave Rose pieces" tells the vampire. Alcina breathe instinctively for a moment and she looks at the veiled woman "she took you,darling,why disrespecting her?"

"Why fight to live without hope of a win? Why to live without the ones we love? We were chosen by mother's, but we are us, we ... feel. She doesn't. I am supposed to be grateful but Mother Miranda only expanded my sorrow."

The whole debate happened trough a doll. A demonic,creepy,doll that Alcina found incredibly creepy but well preserved. The lady scans the room with the eyes able to see in the dark: well dressed dolls with perfect hair and the finest jewelry on the shelves, the flowers and the toxic flowers on the table, the finest piece of furniture. That woman shows taste in art and wood pieces. Alcina looked at her hands: pale long fingers with nails painted in black.

Donna suddenly look distressed and she disappeared in the deep of the house. The conversation was too much for her fragile mind. She need some space and Alcina was not in the mood to follow her.

Time goes by, Ethan got the baby part, but Donna is still alive. Alcina hide while all happened.

Alcina does not know why that dolls were so fascinated by her. Not only Angelica was possessed and possessive, but she started to follow her with a big scissor in her tiny hand. The woman takes her up one day:"Mom she picked me,mom!"the doll screams from the top of her lungs.

Donna remained silent.

Alcina show a vague interest in the demonic creature, but she acts sweetly when the focus is on her: someone like her cannot be bothered by a minuscule doll.

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"I want your claws! Mama does not want me to have them, but they are beautiful and sharpened!" she laughed hysterically.

"You have to listen to your mother, sweet creature" she whispered "mother knows best".

"You have daughters! I remember mama told me about them".

"I had . They were killed by Ethan". It is the first time Alcina can say it out loud, verbally. That sentence sounds unbreakable and definitive, but true.

The doll sits on her shoulder:"You are so tall madame, I can climb you. I still don't get why you choose my door to pass out a week ago".

Ah,the voices shifting, Donna is back from darkness.

"Do you want to climb me specifically, Donna,or is that a little joke from your doll?". Alcina does not have idea if she was flirty and why. The artist does not want to makes Donna close herself again inside her dark mind.

Alcina thought about the last time she met the dollmaker, that elegant, dark and melancholic figure that speaks only by her doll. In the past week she saw Beneviento dress, the creative process of her creatures. "She has daughters that will never be corrupted by Miranda" she thoughts feeling the sadness arise in her chest.

Donna in her room is sewing faster than usual. She missed a point. She is distracted, she is afraid and that sentence in mind:"Do you want to climb me?" What does that mean? That woman has no shame literally and Donna does not want to be touched by anyone. Maybe Angie could do some work with her body and that vampire was enormous. Ugh. Too much to process.

Donna Beneviento decide she should do something about the vampire question in her room downstairs.

"I am sorry for the loss you experienced " Donna declared with her firm and soft voice "I want to give you something" . The creative act is sacred to Donna, she infused the presents with magic and dark force but the looks,oh, the details, the refined painting and the matching capes. Every doll has its own blade and insects made by gemstones on the dresses.

Alcina collapsed on her knees and then looked to Donna who keep an unreadable expression under her curtain. "You should stop drink this much, madame. I cannot stay here every night of my life listening to bad jokes about sapphic sex".

Donna run away and Alcina takes two big breaths in, two out. These dolls were identical to her daughters, it was a gift by Donna , a sign of her attention to the loss and mourning the woman faced.

No, her daughters did not die forever. She takes the dolls and cuddle them, she held them onto her chest.

What was that about sapphic sex? The vampire rolled her eyes.

Also Angie climb up to her. She wants to be cuddled and hugged.

"You'll may be my new second mum if you stop scaring mama Donna" she warning the woman.

"I am not scaring your mother and I was still drunk".

"Don't try to justify yourself!" That scream again from empty lungs not used to work properly. Alcina avoided a blade from Angie. "Mom appreciated you eradicated flowers Miranda gave us. Mom wants to be happy. Mom wants to be safe ".

Alcina ripped the horrendous flowers from the house and the garden one of the morning after she get drunk. Alcina as a perfect lady was not able to keep her hands out of Donna's house that was... dirty, if she had to say kindly. The lady decided that an act of good can do better than a dozens words of wisdom.

"I did it because it was necessary: if she wanted to be freed from Miranda's power the flowers are a first step".

"Mom knows that you are kind and considerate. Sometimes. When you do not eat human flesh, she doesn't like that behaviour ".

"It is not something I decided to start: It is a consequence of the mutation Miranda induced" the vampire defends herself.

"She knows,but she does not like it anyway" replied Angie" and she also think you two have two talk when she feels better". Alcina agreed

The next monday Donna feel better to face a conversation. At 9.00 in the morning,Donna shows up at the table .

Alcina looked at her:"How are you,darling?".

"Scared" answered Donna " and tired. Do you still have some jokes about sex? I find sex repulsive".

"I find sex interesting. But I am the one here who is trivial and coarse isn't it?" She smiled " so you are interested in me but not in sexual situations. Ok" she sipped a little of blood tea.

Beneviento didn't expected that fast acceptance for her condition about their relationship. Relationship? Oh God. She looked at Alcina.

"Is that ok for you?".

"Incredibly ok" answered the vampire lady "you host me in your home, you gave me your couch and you use your magic for me without doubting a moment. If I have to renounce sex for all of this...fine. your doll is far more interesting to me than a vagina".

"Thank you". The only thing miss Beneviento was able to think about was "thank you" like a broken neon.

The vampire nodded :"yes,I know, I am fabulous and awesome and I eat human flesh but darling,I would be too perfect If I didn't. You have fetus in the hall".

"It is an allucination" said Donna but she laughed "do you like it? Sometimes I call it Roger".

"You give your hallucinations names?"asked the woman.

"They were the only thing I had before your drunk depressed night walk".

"So I did the right thing somehow" decided the brunette, happily .

"No, but I am not in the position to criticise your choices ".

"You did it right now".

"I prefer to call what I did - exposing facts-" Donna take the tea.

Alcina laughed and also Angie.

"You have very strange reaction when you are afraid. So you need another mom for Angie?"

The dollmaker was quiet for a moment:"Yes. And weren't you the one who was happy with climbing up to each other?".

Sassy. Donna Beneviento is incredibly sassy when she feel enough strength and emotional involvement with someone. Alcina loves it.

"So can I climb on you?"asked Angie to Alcina" now you are my mom!" The little doll was delighted with her new person in the house.

Alcina gave to Donna a long,intense and funny sight. The question implied is clear to them both.

Maybe Donna also needed a mom sometimes. Maybe her damaged mind blurs the lines between the affection she missed and the affection she is getting,but that's not important. She is happy again, the house is full of living presences. A vampire. Oh,the irony...

The doll hugged mom Alcina strongly.

Miranda punished Donna for the misbehaving and the Ethan question, she suffered again and she came back home struggling to breathe properly because of the tortures she faced.

Alcina preserved her and protected her till the end of their time. The explosion and the mold died was a relief to both of them. Angie was broken,but Donna opened her single eye with the face covered in blood. She snuggled into Alcina arms for a moment covering her dress with stains, the vampire cleanse the veils in a fountain and put them back on Donna's angelic face, giving her a kiss.

"Sleep,darling, you are tired" Dimitrescu murmured while caressing the hair of the other woman on her lap "sleep,I am here. We did it. Ethan won".

"I want to be drunk right know" Donna declared and gives Alcina a kiss, a long, intense blood-tasting kiss.

"Nah,darling,better this way. I am sure tomorrow you will be at work for something that can climb up to me and I have a maiden to crush".

"Probably " answered Donna "but please,do not left the couch dirty. I have only one couch" and she fall asleep after a long time, hand in hand with someone who loves.

[dinogoofy]

Rain x GN! Reader.

Asshole.

Its taken me two weeks to get back into the flow of writing fics, but I hope you guys like this!

Warning for swears.

(Disclaimer that this takes place from mkx to mk11, and is not perfectly accurate to the storyline that comes after aftermath, but its my own AU if how I wish it ended, so...)

----

"Shao Kahn was already pushing the line, but mileena as well? Rain, think about what you are saying!" He huffs, his gaze shifting to your eyes.

"You know my reasons." Squeezing your eyes shut, you pressed the palms of your hands to your temples. It's difficult to understand what is going on in Rain's head sometimes.

He had always been hard to deal with. Rain had hired you to help him find someone a while back. Your family line was well known in all relms for their tracking abilities and moral code. You had your doubts about accepting Rain's offer, but the payment offered was more than enough to get you on board.

As the months grew longer, the hunt slowed to a stop. There were No tracks. No clues, not a single strand of evidence to be followed. Rain's brothers remained untouchable. In the meantime, you and Rain had become... close. And you stayed by his side as he shamelessly served Shao Kahn.

Before this, you has always been neutral on outworlds chaotic ruler. But after meeting Kitana and learning of his cruelty in both his political and personal endeavors, you became increasingly uneasy as you remained with Rain.

But now, Shao Kahn was dead. Kotal had taken his place. And it was time to make a decision.

"Is the power- will it ever be enough for you?! Will you ever be satisfied? Mileena is a wild card, Rain! Agreeing to serve her is madness!" Rain's hands flexed, shoulders set back, eyes hard and zeroed in on you. You knew Rain well, you thought. And you could tell there was no getting through to him.

"The power will be enough when I say it is. I deserve everything I want. You deserve-" your heart fluttered as he cut himself off abruptly. Your demeanor softened, and his did too. You almost didn't notice as he started to take a few steps closer to you. His silence was deafening.

"I think you know what I am about to say," He was closer now, close enough for you to just barely feel his breath on your face. He has taken off his mask, and it took every bit of restraint you had to resist throwing yourself in his arms. No. You would never so such a thing. You scolded yourself for being so emotional.

"Do I?" He lifts a hand to caress your face, and against your better judgment, you melted into his touch. You could tell that this was an act. It had to be. From the very beginning you knew that he would most likely only ever love himself. You told yourself that this moment to him is only a chance to get you to remain with him as a pawn. You had always been a pawn to him, and you could tell he hadn't realized you always knew. Still yet...

"Despite my fondness for you Rain, I think this may be where our paths diverge." His body language remained stiff, but he pressed his forehead to your own. His lips in a thin line.

"I know..." This was quite enough. He was such a bad liar that it had started to hurt. You take his hand off your face and into your own, taking a step back from him. Your eyesight locked onto your conjoined hands only.

"This will not be the last time we meet, I can promise you that." For better or for worse, you silently continued after.

"Good. I'll be anticipating our reunion." You take one last good look at him, holding back the words, the tears, the angry and loving things you wish you could say to him in this moment, and you leave him there.

Sometimes, honor and common sense must come before a one-sided love.

You portal back to earthrelm for the first time in months both physically, and emotionally, alone.

----

Whatever time debacle that had just occurred ment, you sure as hell didn't want any part of it. After less than half a week, your younger self had disappeared from the old farmhouse where you lived, and almost everything had gone back to normal.

You hadn't heard from any if your outworld friends in quite some time now, and had faith that whatever had happened, they had it taken care of.

You had just returned from helping an elderly neighbor track down some lost cattle, and were currently curled up in the sofa with a warm cup of tea. Simply enjoying life altogether.

-When a sudden light filled the room, starting you enough to drop your mug, and two figures stepped out of the portal as it shattered on the wooden floors.

"Did we catch you at a bad time?" Fujin had a friendly smile on his face, Nightwolf by his side, his serious counterpart. You were so shocked you almost forgot about the glass.

"Fujin, Nightwolf, I'm almost happy to see you! It's been a while."

"It has," Nightwolf replied, "But I am afraid that this visit isn't simply to reconnect." You sighed, life could never just be simple, could it?

"I had a feeling." You stooped to clean the glass, inviting them to sit while you picked up the pieces. Nightwolf politely declined while fujin stopped to help you.

"Rain has returned. Along with Mileena." If you were drinking water, you were sure that you would've done a spit take. Your head snapped back to look up at fujin, heart almost stopping for a moment.

"I- I thought Mileena was-"

"Dead. We know. After the past and present merged she managed to worm her way into outworld again."

"And... and Rain?" Fujin and Nightwolf shared a look. Oh gods. They knew. They definitely knew. You busied yourself with the glass, taking the other pieces from Fujin and absent-mindedly walking over to the trashcan.

"Rain had resurfaced around the same time Mileena did. We caught them mid battle with an earthrelm man before both disappeared." The glass hitting the bottom of the trashcan was as much of a distraction you allowed yourself to have.

"Rain and I have cut ties. How does this involve me?"

Fujin spoke; "Kitana is now Kahn of outworld. Both he and Mileena want to take her throne, we are asking you to keep Rain in check while we deal with Mileena's uneveitable attack."

You froze for a moment, blankly staring into space. You would get to see Rain again. Maybe even have a chance to sort out the mixed emotions you've been holding in for so long. (By tracking him down and beating the shit out of him, of course. ) But most likely he would hold a grudge for the rest of time afterwards, despising you for "keeping him from his potential". Then again, you thought about Kitana. No, Kitana Kahn. For a moment all you could think about is how proud you were of her. Your old friend, restored to her kinder self and now ruler of outworld. It took a moment but you finally gave the two men an answer.

"I'll do it."

The men nodded.

"Buy us as much time as you can."

----

This was such a bad idea.

You had tracked Rain down in less than a day, and now as he stood before you, you prayed the swell of your broken heart would go down before you choked on your new mission.

Rain was roasting fish over a small campfire in the thickest part of the jungle you had ever been to, a wide smirk on his face. He was not at all surprised to see you, in fact, something about him seemed... different. More genuine. But maybe that is just the hunter part of your brain speaking. The more distracted the target is the easier the takedown will be. He called your name.

"It's good to see you," you swallowed hard, starting to regret agreeing to this before you spoke.

"I wish I could say the same." He stood, sauntering over to you. For a just a moment, his facade almost dropped at your words. You almost didn't catch it. Was he sick? What had happened to the rain you knew? The lair, the theif? No. He hadn't changed, you had to be over analyzing everything about him.

"I believe I know why you are here. Does your support of Kitana really outweigh our past?" The way he said your name after almost made you choke. You narrowed your eyes at him, curling your fists.

"Trust me. That kindness I showed you then won't transfer into Kombat."

The fight was a difficult one, and yet you still won. The demigod, exhausted and face down in the brush, could no longer fight. As you wound your enchanted rope around his wrists, Rain started to chuckle.

"I'm starting to wish I never gifted you that rope." A sly smile plastered itself on your face as you continued to focus on the knots.

"It was designed to help me keep your brothers trapped, you should've known the risks when you commissioned it." Rain mumbled something petty, and you replied by yanking him up off the dirt and into a sitting position, leaving him for just a moment to prod at the dying embers of his fire. You could practically feel his stare burning into the back of your head as he eyed you from behind.

"You are still just as beautiful as I remember." You were thankfull for the setting sun as your cheeks flushed red. He had never sounded so genuine about a compliment before.

"Flattery won't get you out of this." You stated as you sat down next to him, biting into the fish that he was cooking earlier. Damn. The taste was nice reminder of your old days together.

"Worth a try." You snickered at him. His personality surely hadn't changed much, but the way he glanced at you every once in a while caught you off guard. The beating of your heart being a disappointing reminder that you still loved him.

"I realized something the day you left," His drawl of your name caught your attention, but you said nothing, continuing to stare into the small, dying, fire.

"I know you will not believe me, not now, not ever. But I never truly knew how much I cared for you until you were walking away from me." Absolutely not. No. FUCK No. He was not going to do this to you now. GODS you hated how genuine he sounded, how genuine he seemed. It felt like anger and something else were stabbing the inside of your lungs and ripping out pieces of yourself.

And yet part of you knew that for once, he wasn't lying when he said that. At this point, logic had all but escaped from your mind. Grabbing him by the collar of his stupid purple armor, you stared in his eyes, searching for any sort of indication that this was all some well performed lie. But...

Rain was being genuine. He thought that he could rule alone, but the loss of your support ment a more to him than he thought anything ever could. And he hoped that after everything, you would believe him. (This did not mean he would just ignore the fact that you have him under arrest at this moment, however.)

"If I ever find out that you are lying, I'm killing you on the spot. Understand?!" Rain smiled widely as your eyes bore into him. He knew you were serious, you always had been one to keep promises.

When he leaned forward to kiss you, the anger dissipated just a bit, but your resolve, as always, remained the same. You never thought that a kiss would feel so good.

[metanoiamorii]

❛Peace through Power; Faith through Fire.❜

♧ Title: War of Wrath [WoW]

♧ Status: Brainstorming and Drafting

♧ Point of View: Third Person

♧ Genre: Fantasy, Action, Drama, Epic

♧ Warnings: Violence, War, Death, Nudity, Racism, Past Abuse, Generational Healing, Generational Trauma, Vengeance, Genocide, Colonialism, ethics vs morals, history erasure, history repeats itself, humans are the bad guys really.

♧ Featuring: Dragons, Dragons in themselves deserve recognition; found family, diverse LGBTQ+ characters, complex and complicated characters, fantasy religions, plenty of symbolism, complex world building, ethics vs morals, a whole lot of moral grey can be fit into this bad boy, there is some enemies to friends to lovers going on, and some enemies to friends to family too.

♧ Setting: there will be encompass of territories and areas explored. Few inspirations are Mongolia, The Incan Empire, Viking Scandinavia, Ancient Greece.

♧ Synopsis:

In Gri'lian, the gods have vanished and the mortals overstep their boundaries.

Long have been the years of war between human and dragekind. Humans kill the dragons for territory and control; the drage kill the humans in self defense. As time goes on, history proves the humans will not stop. They revel in the war they have instigated, they thrive on the power and authority they have taken by force.

It has been proven the gods have abandoned their creation, they are nowhere to be found. If they will not stop the humans... who will? Who will place the world back into natural balance?

What happens when a single dragon decides enough is enough? He makes the call, if the gods will not intervene, new gods need to be bore. He alone begins a collection of misfits, the most qualified to end the terror of humans and reinstate the drages; those he can trust to bring a new era.

They make their peace and take on their new role. They carve into their skin their sacred oath and adorn themself in the paint of their ancestors. Together, they go to war against the human. They go to war and fight like no one has before. They turn the tides of war and make a name for themself.

They have won every battle, but the war isn't won.

The only way to win the war, they come to realize in time, is not through violence, but through peace. By living in harmony with the human, not in war. They have to learn to live with the humans, to share the world and their lives with one another.

♧ Tease:

Faith through fire, peace through power; our souls bear written this vernacular. Our intentions we laid bare, yet all still cower in fear. To absent gods you make your prayers.... when we answer, you acclaim we give scare? If the help you wish to shun, why should we give chance upon chance to you anymore?

We fight for family, for it is our duty and sacred honor; with blood and fire, we will show you the price of war.

A battle you wished for, know a war you shall now pay for. The natural order we shall restore. Know, although bound to be ignore, our actions are only sincere. This war, by your hand, was it made so severe... For pride, a glut of greed, you were made a whore. Nay, your life we will not spare.

Why?

Why of your lives will we not spare?

Perhaps reminder is require.

The waters have turned red, from the blood we have bled. Of you, we pled, yet our mothers and fathers and our brothers and our sisters you behead. Of daughters and sons you have killed.

Your acts you dare to justify, lacking a shred of dignity?!

You have denied us as your friend, with caution you should have tread... for now? You are dead.

A warning:

They say, the red sun marks death, signal bloodshed beneath the light of its brothers and sisters in the passing darkness... know, for you it is coming.

♧ Excerpt:

"... Father." With only respect, Svihar greeted.

Violkoa shifted his hold onto his fan, blowing a light gust with it. "Svihar." He greets back, in a tone less than kind. "You are a rare one to come, what is it?"

It was no lie. He paid more respect to Kallai, sharing in her beliefs. But still... Here he was, kneeling before his father. "I seek your blessings, Father."

That scowl so neatly woven upon Violkoa's features nearly lightened. Bemused. He cocked an eyebrow and closed his fan. "What do you seek blessings for?"

"An honour battle." Svihar drew his head forward, daring his eyes from the floor to meet Violkoa's.

Now that scowl faltered, the rare smirk pulled onto that stoic and weathered face. "An honour battle?" Violkoa's repeated. "With whom?"

"Whomever I desire." It is a bite, with fangs drawn. Realizing his mistake, Svihar lowers his head and draws in a breath through his nose. "All that have broken their oaths to you, those that cannot adhere to order, the ones who know no law..."

Violkoa unfurled his fan. He shifts the arm he holds around himself and stands, fanning himself.

Silence.

Svihar keeps his head low, awaiting a response. He knows better than to raise his head and tempt a response. He waits. He waits.

He waits until the fan snaps shut in harshness, a gust of wind sent through the chambers. The fan disappears into Violkoa's sleeve as his arm raises, he plucks the center spine from the bun he wears and strides forward. He does not drop to his knees, but he lowers himself so he may spin his son's hair into a similar bun and tuck the spine into it.

To his feet, Violkoa rises. He turns upon his heels, his quilled tail dragging behind him as he disappears back into the temple. He gives a simple command, as Svihar rises to his feet, only when Violkoa no longer is in sight: "Go to war, My Son."

♧ Characters:

— The Lovers

Kaithrine Eve Flora; The First Dragonlord

Female • She/Her • Human • Pansexual • Demiromantic

The young woman that rules Virta'Niliq. Ruler from a young age, Kaithrine has matured faster than she should have. She understands the way of the world more than the adults around her do. As she ages, she meets her future husband, and she becomes the heroine of a story as old as time when she joins forces with the league of dragons that plague the humans. She leads by example and creates history as its known.

Eoin'fynil Sirenheart; The Blood Taint

Amab • Agender • He/They • Water Dragon • Pansexual • Demiromantic

A man with a legacy to uphold: his grandmother is the refined ruler of a sea with a ruthless reputation, his father is an enigma with a merciless reputation.... Eoin'fynil is a nomad, trying to put a distance with his family to raise his son. He puts distance with his family, but he can't outrun a young girl with high ambitions, and his role in history.

— The Order

Svihar Hopebringer; The Father of the Order

Intersex • Genderqueer • He/They • Rainbow Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

The drage who has brought on a revolution. Although he carries a ruthless reputation to his name, demonized by the humans, he's a very compassionate man. He cares immensely and expresses deeply. He's faithful till the end to his kindred and protective of the family he has created.

Ryltar Flametongue; The Cinder King

Transmasc • Agender • He/They • Fire Dragon • Grey-Asexual • Demi-Homoromantic

The one Svihar trusts the must, and the drage all know stand as his favorite child. He's a drage without compassion that will raze everything before his eyes to ashes, if it means winning the war. He is one the humans fear, as they know he has no mercy to give to them for their crimes.

Dyiare Seawraith; The Wraith of the Sea

Transfem • She/Her • Water Drage • Grey-Asexual • Demi-Homoromantic

The grandmother of Eoin'fynil, known as one of the Sages of the Sea. She's a woman that doesn't smile, her mind fixed only on her responsibilities. She's serious and stern, she has no room to relax and laugh.

Syvtnr Venomtongue; The Enchantress of Reckoning

Afab • Nonbinary • She/They • Nature Dragon • Polyamorous Pansexual • Aromatic

A drage known to masquerade as a human. Famed for her beauty, she is a seductress who uses that weapon to bring humans to their knees. Apathetic, she does not regret using her tacts of manipulation to secure victory for her kindred. And yet, it's her price to bear few see beyond her beauty, she's not seen as a individual, but often only as a tool.

Ayros Golden-Father; The Heart of the Order

Amab • Agender • He/They • Light Dragon • Polyamorous Pansexual • Polyamorous Demiromantic

The trusted advisor, the one Svihar will most frequently turn to when he needs the truth, or advice. A quiet man, Ayros will keep to himself and not offer his unsolicited advice. He will most frequently stand back and observe; he will make himself known, his authority acknowledged, when necessary.

My'fel Frigidbane; The White Shadow

Amab • Demiboy • He/They • Snow Dragon • Bisexual • Aromantic

Simple-minded compared to the rest, My'fel is a drage with a one-track mind. He cares for his basic needs: food, sleep, reproduction, and the art of hunting. He's ill-tempered and reclusive, he doesn't care for companionship, and nothing seems to be able to make him change his ways.

Nyhmar Bronze-Heart; The Righteousheart

Afab • Nonbinary • They/Them • Earth Dragon • Demisexual • Demiromantic

Viewed as Benevolent, Nyhmar is anything as. Perhaps the most bloodthirsty of their family, they have earned a reputation for being amicable and approachable. History forgets how they reigned as a warlord before they joined Svihar, and they demand the blood of all humans, deeming no one innocent of their ancestors' crimes.

Rauor Savage-Heart; The Heartless Beast

Amab • Agender • They/He • Fang Dragon • Pansexual • Aromantic

The youngest of the family and it shows. He follows closely in the footsteps of his more heartless siblings, particularly My'fel. Known for his sadistic streak and apathetic nature, Rauor is an individual that never quite learned that you don't play with your food.

Za-Ylviar Nightstalker; The Eternal Nightmare

Afab • Agender • They/Them • Energy Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

The most revered of their family by the humans. They favor the terror Rauor instills, the flavor of death Ryltar enjoys, and the dread Zivaryz embodies. They are brutal, erratic, dangerous. No one believes they are capable of compassion and thread with caution when their name is evoked.

Clyte Starforger; He Who Lights The Way

Male • He/Him • Star Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

Compared to his siblings, Clyte is harmless. He's not violent, nor does he care for blood. He enjoys mischief, causing problems and reveling in watching others trip over their own feet. He's a trickster, to put it plain.

Zivaryz Endbringer; He Who Will Destroy The World

Intersex • Agender • They/He • Bone Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

Viewed as an object, a weapon, Zivaryz is not viewed as a living and breathing individual. Although a dragon, both human and dragekind will vy to possess the weapon that is Zivaryz. Known to destory everything they touch, they will wither and drain the life of all things they can. A valuable weapon to have in a war.

L'ymra Spiritwalker; They Who Know All

Afab • Genderfluid • They/She/He • Spirit Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

Perhaps the most soft of their family, L'myra is not a fighter, they do not care for blood and war. They desire peace, harmony. They wish to see the land heal, and the mistakes and crimes of the past be acknowledged. There is a long way to recovery, but they are adamant it will happen one day.

Blym Serenescales; The Guardian Beneath the Skies

Intersex • Genderqueer • They/Them • Air Dragon • Demisexual • Demiromantic

The most akin to their father, Blym puts family and responsibilities before all else. They hold the goals Svihar has set out for them. They aspire to be honorable and never be swayed, no matter the trouble they face for keeping a positive outlook on life.

♧ Taglists:

WOW: @lend-your-lungs-to-me, @wannabeauthorzofija, @northernrosewritings, @shadeshadow234, @necros-writings, @rhikasa

GENERAL: @endlesshourglass, @writerray, @poore-choice-of-words, @primusesgiantmetalballbearings

BOTH: @notugalan, @cecilsstorycorner, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @hazard-writes, @aligned-stars-writing

[wormstacheangel]

Stay Unhappy. Stay with Me.

15x18 Coda Fic aka I just can’t accept what happened so I keep changing it lol (hurt comfort idk but happy ending)

“You changed me, Dean.” 

Dean watched, listened, while the pounding at the door grew desperate. His ears ringing as the echoing of his heart slamming into his chest was making itself known because of Cas…

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Tear filled eyes, shining so bright and free, stared back at him. A pulling smile on his lips, heartbreaking, as he tried hard to hold back whatever was left. “Because it is.”

Cas opened his mouth to say something else but Dean took a step forward and pressed his palm against Cas’s mouth. Stopping whatever it was he was going to say because he knew, he knew, exactly what he was about to blurt out and this was not the way they were going to do this. Not here. Not now. 

“Dean!” He heard Cas mumble under his hand but Dean only pressed it harder against his mouth as he glared down at him, the tears really made it hard for him to look angry or even annoyed but he was. 

“Shut it.” 

They both turned towards the bubbling noise behind them just as Billie broke through the door. Dean wrapped his free arm around Cas’s waist to press him close to his chest, shielding him from both threats because this is not how their story is going to end. This is not how these pushed back emotions were finally going to be acknowledged. 

Cas looked at him with wide eyes that still glistered under the one light as Dean shushed him again, keeping his hand over Cas’s mouth to keep him from saying anything else. To keep him from being...happy. 

Cas only nodded once as he stood still in the embrace, keeping his eyes on Dean the whole time as the goo reached to take Billie. Covering her from head to toe so quickly she didn’t even have time to scream, Dean was sure she wouldn’t out of pride. Then just as quick as they came the threats were gone. The only noise that echoed the room was the clank of the scythe hitting the floor. 

Dean finally turned to look back at Cas, to meet his ocean eyes that were burning holes into the side of his face. 

“You dumb son of a bitch,” Dean tries to sound annoyed but his voice is too shaky. “You don’t get to do that shit anymore.”

“Dean.” Cas mumbles from under his palm and Dean rolled his eyes before he pulled his hand back only to rest it on the side of Cas’s face instead. Cradling him as he tightens his grip, afraid that the wrong words can make him happy. Make him disappear. “I’m sorry. I saw no other way to save you.”

“Save me?” Dean almost laughed at the idea. Cas being gone only ever made Dean feel lost and broken. Empty and dead. “You leaving wasn’t going to save me, dumbass.” 

He didn’t want to add how it would have probably been the thing that really sent him over the edge. Closer to pulling the trigger and just ending himself his way. Billie being gone now meant he may not be thrown to the Empty like she promised and now he was afraid he would be resurrected if he did. Cas is here though, he is in his arms and alive, so there was no need to think of a backup plan just yet.

“I need you here, Cas, with me.” Dean leans in to drop his forehead down on Cas’s shoulder. Feeling his neck ache at the movement as he realized how tensed his whole body was. Locked up and cold as if he’s been unmoving for hours instead of the slow-moving ten minutes that actually passed. “So stop fucking leaving me. Please.”

Dean could hear his voice, broken and desperate, as he pleaded with him. Wanting to scream out what he means and wants but he’s unsure of how to do so. Afraid the wrong words can bring the Empty back to get him, them. So he says words that were spoken before. Words Cas knew, that were familiar to them both. Safe. 

“I want you to be happy, Cas. That’s all I fucking want but...not like this” Dean pulled back to meet his wide eyes, still unblinking as tears continued to flow. “Just, stay unhappy for a little bit longer.” Dean could see Cas crack a smile at his words, blinking finally to look back at Dean with warm eyes. The love Dean always tried to ignore was now front and center. “Can you do that for me?”

“Of course, Dean.”

With shaky hands, Cas reached to take Dean’s face in between his hands. His thumb ghosting over his cheeks to wipe away heavy tears while he looked back at him, smiling as he let out a shaky sigh. His eyes roaming over his face as if trying to carve it into memory. 

“I miss you.” Cas says as he watches his thumb brush over the freckles on his skin. “I miss you so much even though I have you so close.”

“Me too.” Dean swallowed the same words Cas needed to push down as they stayed like that for a few more minutes. Looking at each other as if it was the first time, or their last, before Dean finally caved and let his forehead drop to Cas’s own. His eyes shut close to feel Cas’s hands grip at the front of his jacket. Keeping him close as fresh new tears fell because now that the waterworks were open they were having trouble closing them. 

So close to having something they both knew they could finally have but it was still so far away. Only a thin thread holding them back now and Dean will figure out a way to finally break that thread so he can have him. Have Cas the way he has been wanting him for so long. 

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I know.”

“We’ll be happy.”

“I know, Dean.”

Sam and Jack came home to find Dean swinging Death’s Scythe around the map table, Cas was sitting on one of the chairs far away enough to not accidentally be killed. They were all thinking out loud as to what to do next, being the only things left in the whole universe, or at least the earth as social media has finally stopped updating. 

“Okay, let’s get to work!” Sam clapped his hands as he stood up, nearly missing being beheaded by Dean. So he took the scythe away and handed it over to Cas, who took it giving him the same annoyed expression Sam was giving him. 

The big battle started off as dumb and reckless as any other Winchester fight. Chuck was snapping his fingers and slowly things disappeared around them. Nature disappeared right before their eyes, every snap of the finger plummeted them into darkness. Into nothing. 

Dean watched as Sam was snapped out of the dark abyss while Dean struggled to breathe, Chuck decided oxygen needed to go next. Cas was on the floor burned out by Chuck’s feet while Jack was on his knees bleeding as he stared up at him. 

“Amara?” Dean heard Jack say as he lazily looked up at Chuck, everything in him was still trying to fight but they still lost. Dean tried crawling towards Jack, protecting the last person in his family that was left but he couldn’t even feel his body anymore. “It’s okay. It was nice knowing you for the short while I did.”

Dean tried calling out to him but darkness was blurring his vision.

“Thank you for wanting to get to know me. I would have loved to get to know you too. I think...I think we would’ve been a good family.”

Dean heard before the darkness finally took him with one last gasping breath.

Then Dean woke up with a bright light in his face. He laid still on the beach, his legs soaking wet but he couldn’t find it in himself to move or even open his eyes. Afraid of what he’ll see or not see when he opened them. His fingers gripped at the sand, feeling the grains slip through his fingers, as he tried to remember what just happened. Wanting to focus his mind before anything else but he never did get a chance to get past the panic, the pain of watching his family die before him.

“Dean? Dean, wake up.” He heard the familiar voice of someone he thought was lost a while ago. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times until Amara’s face was clear. “Hey, there.”

“Amara?” Dean reached for her, to poke her cheek to see if it was really her, but she slapped his hand away with a little laugh. “Ow!”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay at least.” She stood up and pulled on Dean’s arm to help stand him up. 

“But Chuck...ate you? How are you - wait how the hell am I here?” Dean patted himself over just to make sure he was actually him and he was actually alive. Taking a deep breath of air that seconds ago he was trying to suck in. “My family?”

Amara smiled and pointed further down the beach where he saw Jack crouched down, alive, with Cas’s head in his lap. 

Dean opened his mouth but before he could get the words out Amara spoke, “Sam woke up first and I sent him to where his girlfriend is. He said he’ll see you at home.”

“But where’s Chuck?”

“In here.” She points at herself. “I got him. Balance finally restored. I just wanted to say goodbye to you before I left.”

Amara was sacrificing herself for Jack, for him to keep his family. Trading Cas’s spot for her and Chuck with the Empty so Jack could have his Dad. For Dean to have him. 

“Go. He’s gonna wake up soon.” She nudges him a sad smile playing on her lips. 

Dean didn’t have to be told twice as he ran across the beach to kneel on the other side of his angel. Jack smiled up at him before he got up and walked over to Amara, taking her hand as they spent a few minutes together before she had to leave. 

Dean watched them walk across the water for a few seconds before giving Cas his full attention once again. Calling out for him to wake up.

“Cas, sweetheart, wake up. We did it. We won.” Dean lifted Cas head to rest on his lap now, leaning down to press his forehead on top of Cas’s own. “We’re alive, Cas.”

“We are?” He heard Cas say a playful tone to his voice before Dean felt his hand reach up scrunch up his jacket. “Mmmm, if we’re not then this must be heaven.”

“Don’t be so cliché or I’ll kiss you.”

Cas raised his eyebrow at that. “Is that...are you threatening me with a kiss?”

Dean watched as Cas' face turned just slightly pink before he cleared his throat and pushed himself away from Dean. Sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Dean, this is hard enough already without your teasing. I barely survived this far so I’ll rather not have the Empty come get me before we figure out a way to break-”

Dean pulled Cas back as he tried to get up. Taking his arm and moving close enough that their faces were inches apart, Cas’s breathing hitched before it stopped. Staring down at Dean’s lips just as he stared back at the angel’s perfect lips. Wanting them for so long and having them closer than he ever had them before but there was something he was supposed to do beforehand. 

“I love you, Cas.”

Cas gasped as tears welled back in his eyes, blinking them away as his eyes met his once again. Cas quickly moved just enough to cling to him but kept his eyes on his face, fear dancing around his expression.

“No. No, Dean, don’t say that. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to go. Please, don’t-”

Dean reached to cradle his face between his hands, kissing the tip of Cas’s nose. “Cas, sweetheart, nobody in this whole damn universe will ever take you from me. You’re mine and you’re here to stay.”

“I am?” Cas leaned into his palm, making Dean think of a cat. “Are you sure?”

“I love you, Cas.” Dean repeats, watching Cas eyes widen again as he blinks up at him. Still a little scared. “I love you so much.”

“I-I love you.” Cas hesitantly says before pressing a kiss on Dean’s palm. A sigh of relief escaping him as he let his eyes drift closed. A warm smile spread across his face making him brighten up. “I love you, Dean.”

They rested foreheads, kneeling on the sand as they held each other. Letting the warmth of their words linger around them and envelope them with newfound hope. 

[liannyeong]

Crimson (Chapter 14)

Summary: A sacrifice must be made.

Word count: 4703

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): angst, mentions of blood, character death

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

A/N: Just one more chapter to go before this fic comes to an end! Do let me know your thoughts! Show your support for my works by buying me a coffee! Follow me on Twitter for random updates.

It's been days since Yujin was brought to the Ancient Cave. It's a mystical place -- the walls are carved with symbols that Yujin can't recognize, each of them glowing a bright green. She guesses they are magic runes, perhaps to protect the sanctity of the place. The cave itself is lit up with torches of green flames that never seem to burn out.

Yena had left her here after their encounter in the forest, telling her to prepare herself for the ritual. But Yujin can barely wait. She's all ready to give her heart up. She's all ready to move on and forget this cruel life.

“The ritual can only be performed when the fae and his human love are present together,” Yena had explained, much to Yujin’s disappointment. She had hoped she wouldn’t see Jaebeom anymore. But at the same time, she does want to see the look upon his face as the ritual is conducted. Would he look regretful at least? Or would he look at her with indifference? 

What does it matter? Yujin scolds herself. It's not like she can back out anymore. And she’ll definitely not be coaxed out of it. Perhaps, it's just her heart yearning to see his face for the last time.

Yujin is broken from her thoughts when she hears an echo of voices. Her ears automatically tune in to the one voice that her heart has been wanting to hear. She feels the swell in her heart as it gets louder and closer. Why does her heart feel this way? While her mind is determined to end this, why is her heart reluctant? Why is her heart and mind at war?

"-- Why did you bring me here?" Jaebeom's voice booms in the cave. The moment he steps in, the moment he lays his eyes on Yujin, he freezes. His eyes go wide. Perhaps he didn’t anticipate her in this cave.

“Y-Yujin…?” he calls out weakly, as if he doesn’t believe that she’s real.

He shuffles forward slowly, cautiously. There’s ample time for Yujin to back away from him, but she remains rooted to the ground. Jaebeom holds out a hand, raising it to her face. His fingers are inches away from her face, almost touching her cheek--

Then Yujin blinks, snapped out of a trance. She backs away, repelling from his touch. She sees the way Jaebeom's face falls, the look of dismay scribbled all over his face.

“Shall we begin?” Yena suggests, curling an innocent smile on her lips.

Yujin promptly nods, diverting her attention to the Air fae instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the slump of the male’s broad shoulders as he shifts to the other corner.

Yena circles an arm in a fluid motion before thrusting her hand forward. A gust of wind blew from her hand, so strong that it nearly extinguished the torches. Dust has been cleared away, revealing a circular rune on the ground that Yujin didn’t notice before. There are symbols lined along the circumference of the inner circle, caged by the outer ring. The inner circle itself contains geometric shapes -- squares, circles, straight lines -- with two semicircles at the core.

“Step into the center, and we can begin,” Yena says, gesturing at the two.

Yujin easily obeys, standing on one semicircle. Jaebeom, on the other hand, stays where he is. He bears a frown on his face, as if he’s having second thoughts.

“Yujin,” he says her name so gently, it could have made her go weak in her knees, “You don’t have to do this...”

Yujin wants to laugh. He’s just one step away from getting what he wants, and yet he’s hesitating? What a fool.

She tips her chin up, determined, "Let's get this done and over with."

Jaebeom moves a moment later, still reluctant. He stands on the other semicircle. She would prefer to look at anywhere else but his face, but in this position, he's directly in her line of vision.

“You may begin the ritual,” Yena announces, backing away into the wall.

“We don't have to do this, Yujin," Jaebeom mutters, "We can still work things out--”

“It’s too late for that, don’t you think?” Yujin interjects, glaring at him.

“Yujin, please..." he whispers, sadness in his voice. Even though he's just calling her name, it strikes a chord in her heart. But Yujin has to shake it all away. This is the best that she decides for herself, and for him.

Ultimately, Yujin knows he'll be happy in the long run, with his newly gained powers. He has spent most of his life -- if not all -- being an outcast and looked down upon by the entire faefolk. Yujin reckons it’s time he claims the honor and respect that he deserves. Besides, she's sure the sorrow that Jaebeom feels -- if any at all -- will be short-lived. There is another love waiting for him after this. She’s sure he’ll be healed by it.

"I'm doing this for you, after all," Yujin admits quietly. 

An expression passes over Jaebeom's face, his eyes glistening, his lips trembling slightly. If he's feeling remorseful now, it is of no use. 

Jaebeom tentatively raises his hand, reaching out for Yujin's face. She lets him. She lets the male cup her cheek and brush the skin there. She closes her eyes, revelling in the warmth of his palm for the last time.

A beat passes before Yujin opens her eyes again.

"Perform the ritual, Jaebeom," she says. "Please."

He nods slowly, still reluctant, before shifting his palm to Yujin's chest, right where her heart is. Then, he recites the same spell he once shared with Yunho:

Here I bring

A mortal heart.

Its love so pure;

It strengthens me.

Let the magic come

And give me strength.

In the next moment, Yujin feels warmth blossoming from her chest, spreading to the rest of her body. She feels the ground beneath her start to shake. The rune below starts to glow a bright turquoise. A force beam emerges from the ground, engulfing both Yujin and Jaebeom, its rays of light illuminating the cave. The warmth that she feels starts to burn through her skin, as if she's doused in oil, set aflame, and left to burn. She screams, the pain searing, her back arching. She doesn't notice the way Jaebeom's crimson eyes go wide, his face stricken with horror. And she definitely doesn't notice the huge grin on Yena's face.

Everything disappears and then, Yujin's vision goes white.

---

All she sees is white. The purity of the color is so blinding to her eyes, that Yujin can't help but wince. It takes her some time before she can adjust to the room, if it's even one. It's an endless space of white, nothing else in view.

"Hello, Shin Yujin," a voice calls out from behind, startling her.

A woman stands behind her, almost blending in with the background due to her pale skin, her white gown. Her hair is silver, her eyes bear a grayish tint. She wears a silver-plated circlet with a clear quartz at its centre.

Yujin swallows her throat, her heart pounding in her ears. Will this woman gouge her heart out?

"Don't be afraid," she says, coming closer, "I'm Sowon, a White fae."

Yujin blinks up at her, lost.

The woman starts to circle around her, as she continues, "All the faes that you have encountered in the physical realm are elemental faes. White faes, however, exist in the spirit realm. We are the guardians of the spirits, guiding them as they travel between realms."

Sowon stops right in front of Yujin. She raises her arms, gesturing at the white space. "This is the Transitional State,” she states, then looks at Yujin directly in the eye. "You are a spirit."

"What?" Yujin lets out weakly, confused.

The White fae snaps her fingers and the same magic rune in the Ancient Cave is projected in the air.

"You chose to sacrifice for a halfling called Im Jaebeom," Sowon says.

Yujin nods. "But-- But why am I a spirit? Doesn’t the ritual only require a mortal love?”

Sowon stares at her for a moment, as if expecting her to continue. When Yujin doesn’t, the White fae lets out a sigh, shaking her head slightly.

"You don’t know," she realizes. She proceeds to explain, "What the ritual requires is a mortal’s heart -- a physical heart -- that possesses a pure love for the fae. Thus, you’re sacrificing your physical heart and that will render you dead."

She holds out a hand, uncurling her fingers, revealing a small cube suspended just above her palm. It looks empty, worthless. "Your entire heart will be transferred here, converting itself into an endless flow of energy -- and power."

Realization dawns on Yujin. Not only will she lose all her feelings for Jaebeom, she will have to give up her life for him. In exchange for the power that he craves for. Yujin clenches her fists. Is the restoration of Jaebeom's power really worth her life? Or should she back out now, and leave him to suffer as a powerless fae in the woods?

"How tragic," Sowon utters, shaking her head in disapproval. "It’s already a forbidden spell, yet they were so wicked to lie to you about its requirement.”

Did Jaebeom know the true requirement? Or did he keep it a secret from her too? Yujin feels a tear trickle down her cheek.

"Tell me, dear Yujin, do you wish to proceed with this sacrifice?” Sowon asks, sounding genuinely concerned as she brushes the teardrop away. 

Yujin exhales deeply. What does it matter anyway? Whether the ritual requires her heart or her life, it doesn’t change the fact that at the end of the day, it’s Jaebeom who will reap the benefits. He’ll possess greater power, greater influence, and he’ll be able to take Yena as his true bride. It would no longer matter if she's dead or alive. He won't need her afterwards. He’ll proceed to live on as if nothing happened. She will just be another heart he has crushed, just another mortal that passed on. 

Yujin reaches out to take the cube, but Sowon retracts her hand just a little. She has her head cocked to the side, finding it odd.

“Why?” she asks, blinking at Yujin with curious eyes.

Why? Yujin questions herself. The answer is simple: love. Despite having her heart trampled on, be used and abused, the love she harbors for the Fire fae overpowers. Yes, he may have utter sweet words and promises as a tool to manipulate her. But she was the one who let herself believe in them. She was the one who let her heart be swayed by him. She has fallen so deeply in love with him that she's willing to do anything. Even if it means giving up her life for him to be with someone else. Even if it means removing herself from the picture.

“Because I love him,” Yujin answers simply, much to Sowon’s surprise.

“Truly, your love for the fae is of the purest form,” Sowon acknowledges, with a nod.

The woman offers the cube on her palm. Yujin takes a deep breath before grasping it.

"We shall meet again, Shin Yujin," Sowon bids goodbye, disappearing into the whiteness of the place.

A moment later, Yujin feels something being ignited from deep within. Her body temperature starts to rise. Energy surges in her, coursing through her veins. Then, she feels a kind of current in her. The energy from the crown of her head to the tip of her feet flows to her chest, her heart pounding hard. There's a crack, and then, her chest is ripped open. Yujin screams in pain, her pitch high and deafening. Tears stream down her face, and despite the blurry vision, she catches a glimpse of wisps of mist -- stained a deep red -- coming out from her heart. The vapors diffuse into the cube in her hand.

When the last speck is absorbed, Yujin drops to the floor, barely able to open her eyes.

---

When Jaebeom blinks, he’s greeted by the sight of Yujin being suspended in the air. Previously, he was in the cave, standing on the magic rune that gleams after he uttered the spell. He last remembers hearing Yujin’s shrill screams. Now, in this vast space of white, there’s only the two of them. Crimson clouds shroud Yujin’s body, drifting towards an object in her hand. She doesn't notice his presence even though her eyes are wide open. Her face is contorted in pain, her back arching that he swears it could snap into two.

Just what is going on?

"Y-Yujin?" Jaebeom calls out, but receives no response at all.

He takes a step forward, coming closer to the female. He sees how Yujin's eyes are filled black in its entirety, how her skin turns pale. Nausea hits him, because beneath all that mist, her chest is split open. It’s a grotesque sight: her heart peeks through, still alive and beating albeit weakly. Strangely, there is no blood oozing out, only vapors. Observing the trail, Jaebeom realizes, to his horror, that the red mist is actually drawn out from her heart! The red fumes are actually vaporized blood!

Jaebeom rushes forward frantically, repeatedly yelling her name. He hopes her eyes would open, that she would regain consciousness. But nothing happens. So he tries to grab her wrist through the smoke. There seems to be an invisible force that cocoons her, because Jaebeom feels a spark at his fingertips before he is sent flying.

He lands on his back, hard. He groans. Still, it doesn't deter him from attempting to stop the process. Jaebeom sprints toward her, once more trying to pull her out. Again, the same force flings his body backward.

In his desperation, Jaebeom tries to come up with a different strategy. One particular method stands out in his mind, and he doesn’t waste any time. He shuts his eyes, and takes a deep breath to steady himself. He searches for Yujin’s unconscious mind. The Lover's bond that they share makes it easier for him to locate her, but he can’t seem to tap into her mind at all. It’s like he’s barred from entering it. It’s like there is a protective shield that holds him off. No matter how much he tries, he cannot break through.

Jaebeom hears a thud. He snaps his eyes open, hoping that somehow it worked. That somehow, the process is halted. But no, it’s already too late. He sees the last speck of vapor in the air, travelling to the object that was in Yujin’s hand. Her body is almost lifeless, eerily still.

The fae rushes to her side, pulling her body into his arms. Her clothing has a spatter of red at the front, the material ripped down to her ribcage. She’s breathing faintly, so Jaebeom presses his palm into the open wound, hoping it'll stop the bleeding.

"Yujin, please--" he cries out. "Respond to my voice, please--"

The female shifts slightly, her eyes slowly fluttering open just a little bit. She must have realized who he is, for she shoots him a weak smile.

"It’s all yours now," she mutters, voice raspy and weak. Her hand twitches by her side, slowly uncurling to reveal a cube. It whirs loudly, a striking red light pulsing in the grooves.

Soon after, her body starts to disintegrate into dust. Jaebeom envelops her into a tight hug, desperately trying to hold onto the remains of her body. He hopes it’ll make her stay longer. But no, there is no effect at all. Her body continues to turn into ashes.

"No! No, no, no!" Jaebeom screams out, hysterical. Tears are streaming down his face. With the last bit of time he has, he holds her just a little closer, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Goodbye, Jaebeom," is the last thing he hears before the last bit of her existence slips through his fingertips, carried away by an invisible force, then fading away.

---

Jaebeom returns to the Ancient Cave alone, kneeling on the rune. Yujin is nowhere to be seen. Just a few moments ago, he was holding her in his arms, hugging her tight.

He belatedly notices the cube on the ground, left behind by Yujin herself. With shaking hands, he picks it up. Jaebeom feels its weight on his palm despite it being small, and he feels it pulse against his skin. In the next moment, the object melts becoming liquid, before seeping into the ridges of his skin.

Jaebeom feels stronger; the power making its way to him. The veins in his hand start to glow red. He watches as the energy flows through his body, illuminating his veins as it travels. His core feels a tad warmer, and he's sure any flames he produces will be fiercer than ever before.

“Jaebeom, you did it! You got the power!” Yena rejoices, coming forward excitedly, “This calls for a celebration! You’re invincible now!””

Despite that, Jaebeom can’t comprehend what happened. Yes, he has gained the powers he desired so much, but... Yujin is now gone. He feels a void in his chest, and he just knows it cannot be patched up.

“But Yujin...” he trails off, teary-eyed. “I lost her…”

“No, Jaebeom, she gave her life for you. She was willing to do it. Don't blame yourself for the decisions she made--"

But Jaebeom can't believe it. How did it end up like this? It was a rapid turn of events, that his mind still can't process it yet. Days ago, they were so in love, so happy together. Ever since they returned from the autumn celebration hosted by the Air court, Yujin seemed a little off -- more distant, in fact. She reasoned that she wasn't feeling good, so Jaebeom left her to rest. But the next thing he knew, Han, the Earth fae servant tasked to monitor the Garden, informed him that Yujin had ventured into the area. How surprised he was to find Yujin at the fountain, fully regaining the memories that he took away.

Jaebeom couldn't help the anger he felt towards himself then. He couldn't help the regret he felt from keeping the memories. He should have destroyed the fountain when he had the chance to. He shouldn't have ordered an Earth fae to construct the Garden in order to protect the fountain. He was so reluctant to destroy Yujin’s memories because revisiting them was the only way he could experience being close to her again. It helped him live. It made him happy. 

But how was he to know that Yunho actually implanted his own memories into the fountain after his death? He was so preoccupied with having the real Yujin by his side that he overlooked the fountain. Despite Yujin asking about the Garden multiple times, Jaebeom thought he could get away with it. He thought Yujin's curiosity would die down as time passed by. Oh, how foolish he was! He should have just wiped away Yujin’s memories mercilessly without keeping it in any form at all. Even so, how can he? He cherished Yujin so much, he couldn’t bear to eradicate their childhood memories.

Still, Jaebeom doesn’t have anyone but himself to blame. Seeing Yujin so determined in performing the ritual, it is enough evidence of the pain he has inflicted upon her. Just how much pain has he put her through, for her to be so willing to throw the memories they have, the love they share? Perhaps he will never know now.

Despite his reluctance, he ended up proceeding with the ritual. Yena was the one who informed him of it years ago, when Yujin was still oblivious about the faefolk. They theorized that the sacrifice is merely the emotion of love, leaving the person unscathed.

Now, it proved to be false. Jaebeom didn't expect Yujin to be put through excruciating pain. He had thought the spell required just a mortal love. He didn't understand why she had to go through such a painful process. Why did she turn into dust if all they needed was her feelings?

"-- You finally have the power you have long sought for! Why does it matter if she's alive or not? If anything, you should be grateful that she'll no longer be a distraction to our mission!"

Something about Yena's comment snaps Jaebeom from his thoughts. Something about it brings about a flare of anger in him. Impulsively, he blasts a ball of fire towards the Air fae. His flames used to be orange, but now, it possesses a beautiful blue. Out of reflex, Yena crosses her arms, projecting a protective barrier that disperses the flames.

"What are you doing?!” Yena yells, startled by Jaebeom's sudden attack.

The Fire fae ignites both his hands into flames, bringing them together before pulling them apart. A whip of fire is conjured, without any tangible rope holding the flames. Jaebeom lashes the makeshift weapon toward Yena, successfully grabbing her by the ankle. She cries out, her ankle scorched by the fire. Jaebeom yanks her towards him, and she falls to the ground. He seizes her by the neck, holding her up in the air.

“You knew?" Jaebeom bellows, fury written all over his face. "You knew the ritual would kill her?”

“Of course I knew--” the Air fae chokes out, clutching at his wrist. Her nails scratch against his skin, but he pays it no mind.

“And you hid it from me?”

“If I didn't, you wouldn’t have done it--!”

Jaebeom hurls the female to the side, her body hitting the rough rocks of the cave. He hears her whimper in pain, but he doesn't care. He stomps over, and with his foot, he kicks her body to lay flat on her back. He presses his heel on her chest, ruthless, even as her face is flushed with a deep red, her lungs constricted.

"Why?" he spits.

"J-Jaebeom, p-please--" she chokes out, trying to relieve the pressure from his foot. “I can’t breathe--”

Jaebeom removes his foot, much to the relief of the Air fae. She gasps for air.

“If I had told you, that mortal will only hamper our progress. She's nothing but a distraction to you. I did what is right, to keep you focused on our plan!”

Jaebeom stares her down. "Perhaps I would have married you if you hadn't lied to me."

Confusion passes over Yena's face. “J-Jaebeom…?” she croaks out, unsure.

"Perhaps I would have married you if I loved you more. I regard you as a sister, nothing more," he continues. “This is too late but... I have led you on for so long, only to realize that I can never love you the same way I love Yujin.”

"You can't do this to me! You can't betray me like this!" she shrieks, grabbing Jaebeom’s legs. Tears start to stream down her face. Yena is out of her wits, totally deranged. "You promised me you would-- You can't--! I have been waiting so long for you! I stayed by your side for so long! You can't do this to me-- Jaebeom, please. You can't leave me--"

Jaebeom tugs her away so that he can crouch down comfortably.

"I'm sorry, Yena, but I can't do it," he mutters. "I hope you'll stay by my side as a loyal friend."

Yena's face darkens. She rises, albeit a little wobbly on her legs. Her fists are clenched tight by her sides.

"No, no, no! No, you can’t do this to me-- What do you take me for? A fool?" she growls. "Whether you love me or not, it no longer matters. Yujin is now dead, and you have to marry me, else you can never have the army you need to conquer all the fae courts!"

Jaebeom stands on his feet. He brings up a hand, and blue flames immediately envelop his skin, up to his wrist. He turns his palm over, mesmerized by the intensity of it.

“I’m sure I can still conquer the fae courts without marrying you,” he says simply.

"If I can't have you, then no one can!" Yena spits before rapidly circling her hands. A sphere of air is created around Jaebeom's head, taking away the oxygen he needs. It’s suffocating, the air from his lungs is also drawn out.

Jaebeom struggles to think straight, but he ignites his entire body with fire. The heat prickles his skin but it's only a slight discomfort. Then, it sets off an explosion, scattering the flames in all directions. The air sphere dissipates and Jaebeom can breathe again. He catches his breath for a moment before he points his fist at Yena, set ablaze, ready to strike.

But there is a stench of burning flesh, the fire has already engulfed the Air fae. Her skin starts to peel off like strips. Puffs of heavy black smoke fill the air, her deafening screams ringing in the cave. Then, Yena drops to the ground, moving only ever slightly, before she goes completely still.

Just like that, the Princess of the Air court is dead.

---

"Shin Yujin has passed on."

The words taste bitter on Jaebeom’s tongue, its weight heavy. He is not ready to accept the fact that Yujin is gone. He desperately wishes that it's all a dream, and that he’s just waiting to wake up. But his enhanced powers are clear evidence that it’s real. That he felt Yujin’s body disintegrating in his arms, that he heard her last goodbye.

Even though he’s still in denial, the only thing he can do for Yujin is to properly send her off. He decided to hold the procession at the Garden. The fountain is now gone, its water dried when Jaebeom returned. The Earth faes in the house help to erect a tombstone to honor Yujin. Everyone mourns for her, their heads down. Yeri herself is bawling her eyes out.

Jaebeom stays still, silently gazing at the tombstone. Only when the crowd disperses did the fae let his emotions flow. The sorrow floods his entire being, and he can’t help the tears from falling. He thinks of her, recalling all the memories they created together. 

Initially, he was planning on making Yujin fall for him. He wanted her to trust him entirely. But the more he spent time with her, the more sincere he was. He genuinely enjoyed her company. It was as if he was the same youth Jaebeom who didn’t frown at the world. Momentarily, Jaebeom had forgotten about his original intention. Unbeknownst to him, Yujin had planted the seed of love in his heart. It sprouted through his chest, and bloomed flowers of love.

Now, it’s all too late. He underestimated how dear Yujin is to him. In the end, it wasn’t Yujin who was foolish. It’s Jaebeom himself. Yunho was right; he was blinded by his lust for power to see what truly matters most to him.

Jaebeom senses another presence nearby. He breathes before addressing him, “Scold me if you wish. Mock me for my foolishness. I deserve it.”

He hears a deep sigh from behind. Muffled footsteps, and then a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. 

“You didn’t know,” Jinyoung responds. “Don’t blame yourself for it.”

"But I should have looked into it. I should have checked the facts for myself. Why didn’t I delve deeper?"

“That’s enough, brother,” Jinyoung placates, sliding an arm around his broad shoulders. “What’s done is done. We cannot turn back time.”

“If only I could…” the Fire fae mumbles. "What am I supposed to do now? I'm so lost. And the Air court--” He sighs. “I have incurred the wrath of the Air court.”

“First, live for her," Jinyoung says, nodding at the tombstone. "After everything, Yujin still willingly gave up her life for you, so that you can proceed with your cause. The least you can do is make sure that her sacrifice wasn’t futile. So live on for her sake."

There’s a pause.

“Next, we shall overthrow the fae courts, one by one, starting with the Air court.”

[casmybelovedass]

The Destiel Folder: Season 10

[Season 4; Season 5; Season 6; Season 7; Season 8; Season 9]

Episode 1:

Cas is slowly dying, practically naked, in a bed, and the first thing he says when talking about Dean is "I miss him" (6:35), with a soft smile. "Why would he just disappear?"

... I'm sorry but If Cas Were A Woman, this would look like a scene from a movie or something, where the wife talks to a friend over the phone about her missing husband. JUST SAYING

Crowley: "The girl seemed nice. Slightly damaged. I could see the old you falling for that." (9:29) uhm... who else is "nice and slightly" damaged? I don't know... CASTIEL??!!!

So... these two men (actors Todd Mann and Brad Mann) we see with the DemonGang, are real life twins (9:14).

At (27:18), Crowley states him and Dean did "extroardinary things to triplets" ... and, well, the only twins with a possible other sibling we see are... them

And this is not the first time we hear about Dean doing "things to triplets" with a buddy of his (15x07)... and the first time he was NOT a demon... so, there's that. And triplets don't necessarily mean "all females"

Cas, while talking about the good things that come with choices, mentions "hope, love, dreams" (39:06), and Hannah points out that "those are human things". Human things...

Cas is talking about his own personal experiences with creating chaos, so those are the things he felt after rebelling for... Dean... WOW. ICWAW, it would totally be read it as a reference to Dean. A romantic one. Fight me

Episode 2:

Cas is dying, just got back from a fight that left him wounded, doesn't have enough power to heal himself, is on a mission to restore Heaven, and once again he chooses to go save Dean (9:35), and the way rage builds in his eyes when learning Dean has become a demon. Look at this shit

I might be crazy, but this feels like a touching metaphor to me:

"I think you don't know what you want. Tell me, Dean. What are you? A demon? [...] Maybe you're human. [...] Why don't you do us all a great, big favor... and pick a bloody side!" (22:22)

METAPHOR

Episode 3:

We are reminded that, even tho in terrible conditions, on the verge of death, Cas is willing to risk it all to save Dean, and is devastated by the thought of Dean not making it (4:47 - 5:17)

This is so funny to me, I'm sorry, but Cas is so visibly uncomfortable with Hannah touching him, it's hilarious (15:58)

"I've been around humans for long enough to see how easily distractions occur. Emotions, feelings... They're dangerous temptations." (22:32) like rebelling against your own kind, destroying your home, falling... all for a human?

"I'm trying to keep our priorities clear." Moments earlier, Cas listed "Getting to Dean" (22:17) before anything else. In fact, Hannah says "I am very clear of my priorities... and yours." = Dean (23:00)

Cas is not sure whether the cure will kill Dean or not, and in any case, he wraps his arms around him, and softly says "It's over... Dean it's over." (35:40) as if hushing him to sleep, in what could have been their last moments together... wow. Think about this ICWAW

"Well, I can see his point. Only humans can feel real joy, but... also such profound pain. This is easier." (36:17) Look at the way Sam is looking at Cas looking at Dean

BITCH OKAY!!

SAM KNOWS

POSSIBILE future Empty reference "real joy"

Cas already stated he misses being human, but knows how fragile they are in both body and spirit:

Castiel really wants to be with Dean. For real. But maybe he thinks (see season 9) him being an angel is an obstacle to their feelings.

Only by being human he can truly be happy (MMMMMMHH SEASON 15), but isn't sure he could handle the pain that comes with it. A possible rejection, the thought of Dean dying, him leaving Dean... MMMMHHHHH

"You look terrible." [...] "Well, you, on the other hand, you... *checks out Cas* Looking good." (39:09) full homo right there. Also parallel with Ketch in 13x18 ("You don't look good." "Yeah, well, you're not my type, either.")

The way they are looking at each other here... man.

Cas is so happy to have Dean back, and Dean looks hurt about Cas leaving so soon.

"So... so, you're back?" "At least temporarily." (39:27) bitch, you know that's not what he ment.

In all of this, Cas is trying to make Dean feel better about the whole situation (DAT SMILE 40:18), and Dean replies with "I'm glad you're back, man.", basically no-homoing himself...

Cas starts walking out of the room, but stops and turns back [insert concerned husband here] (40:27), and Dean has that hopeful look in his eyes, like Cas is going to stay, and the hurtful look comes back as soon as Cas is gone

Episode 4:

"On your knees!" "Wow, I'm awfully flattered-" (34:33) SASSY BI DEAN IS THE DEAN WE DESERVE

Episode 5:

Fucking kill me NOW!!! Dean's reaction to Destiel is PRICELESS!! And even before he learns what that is, he just looks at the girls playing him and Cas and... freezes for a moment (13:18) And the eyebrow raise thingy at (13:34)... what's going on in your brain, Dean?

I'd like to point out that the Italian translation for "You can't spell 'subtext' without S-E-X" is, for once, AMAZING:

"It's just that... their bond is so strong it has subtext of a... sexual nature."

THANK YOU ITALIAN DUB! JUST THIS ONCE, THANK YOU! (13:43)

Also at (9:44) Dean immediately reacts to the implication of Wincest subtext, shutting it down and telling the girls to take a step back, but with Destiel he is like... alright

... this is so fucking cute, (25:54) Dean adjusts the girl playing Cas' tie so that it's messed up like the real Cas'. ADORABLE

SAM SHIPS IT (13:57) and is teasing the SHIT out of Dean, who reacts like someone being teased about their crush. Just saying (14:08 - 14:52) [AND THIS HAPPENS IN FRONT OF A PINK-BLUE WALL]

"I know I have expressed some differences of opinion regarding this version of Supernatural." (26:44) ... oookay meta? *turns to "Cas"* "And I want you to put as much sub into that text as you possibly can." ... oKAY?!

Episode 7:

Cas being extremely uncomfortable with women is too fucking funny to me (5:03 - 12:51)

Episode 9:

(15:13) Alright, so, this is a date... what now? Anyway, nice bi flannel, Dean. And the little sweet smiles you two are giving each other? So fucking precious (16:01)

"I ain't exactly a role model." "That's not true." (16:07) how Dean looks at Cas right after that? BABIES!

"How are you, Dean?" "Fine." "*I-call-bullshit look*" "I'm great!" "No, you're not." (16:18) #MARRIED

As Cas is choke-holding a guy, Dean, clearly amused (almost proudly), says "I'd do what he says." (22:17) Like that time with Raphael in 5x03, Dean likes it when Cas gets rough

Episode 10:

Shut the fuck up and marry each other already so you can finally actually BE the old married couple™️ you ALREADY ARE (22:17)

This is the "My husband is so FUCKING STUPID" look (22:30)

"I was hoping you might reach out to her." "... Me? I'm probably the last person she'd want to hear from." [...] "All I know... is she won't talk to me." (23:03) #MARRIED, PARENTS, PERIODT

Shut the fuck up. Cas is the dad trying to figure out technology (23:36) "I'll text you her number. I like texting. Emotions!" DAD

Cas worries about Dean like a wife would with an alcoholic husband

Of all the things Dean could be MAD about at Metateon... the first thing he can think of is him stealing Cas' grace (31:33) (okay, maybe he is going in chronological order but STILL)

Episode 11:

[I AM SO SO SO SORRY BUT DEAN USED THE ALIAS "PRESLEY" (18:55) I AM NOT OKAY]

Episode 14:

Have this deleted scene: Castiel and Crowley bitching over Dean, and Crowley calling Dean Cas' boyfriend

This is some hell of a goodbye-eye-love-making scene (26:57)

Cain compares himself to Dean... and CAS TO HIS WIFE COLLETTE [PARALLELS]

"You're living my life in reverse [...]

First you'd kill Crowley. You'd get it done, no remorse. (Cain had been killing his descendants, for whom he didn't care much)

And then you'd kill the angel, Castiel. Now, that one... that, I suspect, would hurt something awful. [And than Sam is Able, bla bla...]"

AM I WRONG?! YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG??!!!

Dean gives the First Blade to Cas... oKAY (37:10)

Worried brother-in-laws (41:27)

Episode 16:

This is such a good source of hidden meanings scene! Dean starts his "confession" as a scam. Everything he says at first is to attract the spirit.

He starts talking about seeing lots of women, not being able to control himself, and being sick of it. Then the real confession begins...

Dean feels he's going to die soon, and fears not death itself, but what he would be missing from his life.

"There's things... people, feelings that I... I would experience differently than I had before. Or even for the first time." (25:28) and the priest believes Dean is talking about love.

Well... "people, feelings"... who could he be referring to? Does Dean want love all of a sudden? People he wants to experience for the first time... uhmmmm... Is Dean opening up to his attraction to MEN??!! Or one angel in particular?

ICWAW we would guess Dean was talking about Cas

"Who mixes their blood and bones into paint? No woman has ever done that for me." (39:19) UHM- Dean, what about

6x20 "He has bled, died bla bla bla for us",

7x21 "I'm always happy to bleed for the Winchesters" or

9x22 "You just gave up an entire army for one guy"

ICWAW we would ALL roll our eyes at this statement and scream CAS

THE GUY BLED, LOST HIS HOME, REBELLED, DIED FOR YOU!! HE REBUILT YOU PIECE BY PIECE FROM HELL- SAVED YOU DOZENS OF TIMES!!!

Episode 17:

About saving Dean from the Mark: "We won't- (free Metatron)" "Yes, you will... because you're desperate." (9:44) Hannah knows. Let's remark that

"All I'm getting from you is... colours." (14:26) bitch he is a walking 🌈PRIDE FLAG🏳️‍🌈

Notice how, when we get a Sam-Cas centred episode, we don't get the same interactions with Dean-Cas? Why this?

Dean is always ready to call Cas a "brother", but the only one true bromance here is Sam and Cas'. There are no longing stares, no weird sexual filled dialogue nor tension, NO LONGING STARES

Facts, my people. Facts

Episode 18:

"You killed my friend." "Oh, pff, Dean is fine, mostly. Can't you get past that?" "Never." (12:39)

Charlie being excited about meeting Dean's famous boyfriend is WHOLESOME (37:34)

To have Cas back, 100%, safe and sound, is a win for Dean (38:58) and the face Cas makes after Dean hits him with another no-homo "It's good to have you back, pal." is "UHH not this again". Charlie already ships it

Episode 20:

A #MARRIED couple and their daughter. NO ARGUMENTS VALID (7:06)

Look at how they enter the motel (16:22)

OH MY GOOOOOD!!! #PARENTS coming back home from shopping!! THE HAND ON THE SHOULDER!!! Also

"Happy birthday. I got it at the Hot Topical" DAD

Dean: "Imma head back over there." Cas: "I'm coming with you." Claire: "I'm coming with you too." (17:24) #FAMILY

A fucking family comedy about a dad confronting the daughter's boyfriend and the other dad scolding him:

"What did you do to him?" "I didn't lay a hand on him!" "Dean, that isn't exactly true." "... Well, I didn't kill the guy." (17:14)

Surprisingly enough, this is not the first nor last time Dean acts like a dad to a lost child (AND TWO OF THESE TIMES THE KID IS SOMEHOW RELATED TO CAS) (21:54)

Episode 22:

C: "Claire, you are not going out there. [...] It's too dangerous. I can't let anything happen to you." D: "Claire, you're not going." C: "You're not either, Dean." D: "What?" (19:29)

#FAMILY DON'T TALK TO ME!

"No fighting. [...] Both of you." AAAAAA

This doesn't fucking matter, but Dean just said "... for the ladies. Or the fellas. I don't judge." (36:23)

Cas' speech to Dean... wow. "So if there's even a small chance that we can save you... I won't let you walk out of this room." (39:20)

I hate this scene. (40:11)

Dean is overwhelmed by Charlie's death, Sam and Cas' betrayal, the Mark changing him and all the other shit.

The Mark is taking over, and Dean can't (and won't) help it. Cas knows it. He doesn't want to hurt Dean. He is not even resisting. Doesn't put up a fight.

And just like Colette with Cain, Castiel only asks Dean one thing: "Stop." (40:38) [9x11]

Parallel to 8x07:

The only thing that stops Cas from killing Dean, is him begging, clutching onto his sleeve.

"Dean... please..." (41:08) Cas pleading Dean, clutching to his arm, makes him resist the urge to kill him.

Episode 23:

You can find gifs and the script of some deleted (destiel) scenes in this post by @charlie-minion

As the Mark eats Dean... he starts feeling guilt for the people he hurt... first on the list: Cas (14:54)

(This gif is not mine)

Well... what a season.

[Season 11>>]

[elfy-elf-imagines]

Return to Me P.II | Lindir

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Lindir x Human!reader

Genre: Fluff, pure fluff

Warnings: Potential toothaches...??

Words: 2,174 

Note: If you’d like to be added to a tag list for any of my works, there’s a link on my page! 12 years later we get Part 2 and the reunion of my two beans ♡

The sun is partially bright on this day, it seems, as if the sky itself is celebrating the return of Gondor’s king. Wind dances through the courtyard, making dance partners with everyone in the crowd, moving your dress with its beat. Your hair, pinned in a simple hairstyle often worn by the elves, is curled to perfection, bouncing in tune with birds singing in the distance. There’s a stupidly large grin on your face, one that you don’t care to try and force away. Everything in the past year or so has led to this very moment, every impossible moment and near death experience made it possible for peace to truly be restored to the realms as Aragorn takes his throne. The crowd is silent, watching the coronation with bated breath and wide eyes, excited and hopeful for the new chapter in their lives. Some people near the front desperately move around, trying to get a better look. 

“Now comes the day of the king, may they be blessed!” Gandalf proclaims as he lowers the crown on Aragorn’s head. Aragorn smiles up at Gandalf, the same soothing smile that makes it easy to understand Arwen’s love for him and makes it even easier to understand the love the people hold for him. He stands from his kneeling position, turning to face the cheering crowd. His cloak billows dramatically behind him, showing off his perfectly polished armor, that glimmers with the regalness expected of a king. One hand rests on the pommel of his blade while his other is outstretched. 

“This day does not belong to one man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world; that we may share in the days of peace.” He holds both of his hands out, his voice soft, yet confident, speaking as Elessar, the King of Gondor, the rightful heir returned to his throne; not Strider, the Ranger in the North. He commands the attention of everyone just by simply being in a room, never needing to raise his voice higher than a comfortable talking volume. 

You glance at Gimli beside you, his wild red hair and beard somewhat tamed for the special event, the beads in his hair that accessorize his braids glint brightly in the sun. He holds a plush velvet pillow that moments prior Aragorn’s crown that adorns his head used to rest on. He wears a large grin you’re sure is also on your face, as relieved and ecstatic for the new era as you. You move your gaze back to Aragorn, white blossoms from The White Tree blowing in the wind, captivating your attention. Like a child catching snow, you hold out a hand, hoping to capture a blossom or two. You manage to get three. You close your hand around them, feeling the silky petals on your skin. A moment later, you open your hand and blow on the flowers, urging them to continue flying through the wind. 

And they do, they dance in the air, a beautiful waltz you could never hope to mimic. 

Aragorn descends down the stairs, nodding his head at every familiar face he passes. The procession of elves march forward, but it’s not the uptight and rigid way they march into battle, no it’s too relaxed and loose for that. Legolas steps forward, wearing ceremonial garb fitting of an elven prince, him and Aragorn clasping each other's arm. Aragorn says something to him, too quiet for you to hear. Legolas smirks, and moves his head to the left. The elves behind him move forward, one of them holding a particularly large banner, the sigil on it familiar. 

A bright smile forms on your face and your eyes practically glow in excitement. You’ve seen that banner a million times, when you would walk up and down the halls of Imladris, hung in the Hall of Fire, and even in your bedroom. She’s here, she’s really here. You knew that she wouldn’t leave for Valinor without a fight, but seeing her here, in person, puts out any lingering doubt. 

Slowly, she moves the banner aside, confirming it to be Arwen, beautiful and radiant as ever. She wears a pale green flowy dress, it’s fabric light and airy, the style common for elves, a stark difference to the heavy and thick dresses of Gondor and Rohan. A headpiece forged from silver and inlaid with dozens of glittering gems adorns her head, crowing her lucious black hair that falls down her back like a lazy waterfall. Her pale skin glows in the warm sunlight, her eyes sparkling from the tears forming. 

For a moment, Aragorn and Arwen stare at each other, one watching the other with amazement and love in their eyes. The crowd is dead silent, everyone intently watching the scene unraveling before them. Then Aragorn steps forward, grabbing onto the banner and pulling it away. And then he lunges forward, capturing her lips into a kiss. She laughs in delight, throwing her arms around his as he lifts her into the air, spinning her around. They pull away for a moment and she places her dainty hands on his face, leaning forward and placing a short and sweet kiss on his lips. 

The crowd around them begins clapping loudly, warmly greeting their new queen. And it didn’t register in your mind that this might be the first time most of these people have seen an elf this close up. But then you saw the looks of wonder and amazement on the faces of some citizens, children excitedly pulling on the skirts of their mothers, pointing wildly at Arwen and the other elves. 

You continue watching the newly reunited pair, your face growing numb from the large smile that is permanently etched on your face. You scan the crowd, seeing Lord Elrond, with a soft smile on his face; Glorfindel beside him; Elladan and Elrohir behind his father to the right. You continue scanning the crowd, but then your heart stops, only to begin beating again faster than ever before. 

Standing amidst the other elves, wearing silken and beautiful ceremonial garb, probably the most pristine outfit he owns, is Lindir. His black hair is glossy, every strand in its place, pulled back in an intricate elven braid. He wears a silver circlet, fitting for an elf of his status, the tip of it resting on his forehead. His skin is glowing, not as intensely as Arwen, but captivating to you. His cheeks are stained a pale red, a beautiful smile on his face. His blue eyes move to you and for the first time in over a year, your eyes meet. You feel a jolt of electricity run through your body, heart beat increasing in pace. 

Your smile widens, if possible, and you can’t tear your gaze away from him. Even when Aragorn and Arwen begin to move through the crowd, your eyes stay locked on him. When you, along with everyone else, bow for the Hobbits, your eyes only flit away for a second before returning to their previous position. And when the crowds begin to disperse, everyone mingling with one another as they lazily move towards the feast portion of the Coronation, you stay locked in place. 

“You coming, lassi?” Gimli’s gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, but his voice is so far away, you weren’t sure if he was still by you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes, moving your gaze back to Lindir, still in his same spot. 

“Yeah...I’ll be there in a moment,” you mutter, not sure if he even hears the words that fall from your mouth. He scoffs in amusements and shakes his head before moving away with Gandalf, muttering something about young love.

You take one step forward, Lindir mimicking your movements.

You take another step and so does Lindir. 

Once your feet touch the stone steps, your mind suddenly comes alive, as if water got thrown over your body. As if you only have a few moments to live, you rush towards Lindir, weaving through the lingering people with the grace of a baby elephant. But you can’t bring yourself to care about the wild stares or accusing words falling from people’s lips. The only thing you can focus on is Lindir, and feeling his lips against yours. 

Three.

Two.

One.

The distance between you two disappears as you throw your arms around him, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric of his robes beneath your fingers. He’s warm and inviting and everything you missed while travelling with The Fellowship. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling as close as physically possible. The smell of mountain air, fields of grass, and rose oil hits your senses, pulling you deeper and deeper into your bliss. He’s real and he’s here. You deeply inhale once more, allowing this moment to sink in, immersing yourself in the moment.

You move your head to face him, throwing your head back in delight as a stream of laughter leaves your mouth. You move your arms to wrap around his neck, one of his hands winding around your waist and the other lightly cupping your face. Like magnets you move closer to one another, staring deeply into each other’s eyes with dumb smiles on your face. 

“You came back to me,” he whispers, the words tickling your lips. 

“I came back,” you reply.

You don’t remember who did it, all you know is his lips are now on yours, connecting them in a kiss. His lips are soft against yours, filling your whole body with a fire, burning away the ice that formed in his absence. Your heart soars, long past the point of just beating rapidly against your chest. You feel light, like you’re made of air and you’ll fly away any second without Lindir holding you in place. All the noise and background people fade away, until there’s nothing but this moment. And you can’t help but smile in the kiss when Lindir laughs, the noise swallowed by your mouth. 

And in that moment you decide there’s nothing better than kissing someone while they laugh. 

You pull a whisper away, moving a hand to trace the outlines of his face. His skin is smooth and perfect, the shining example of the perfection of elves. His blue eyes are like oceans, clear and bright and vividly blue. And if every ocean looked like this, you wouldn’t mind drowning as long as it was in him. 

“I told you it would take more than Mordor to get rid of me,” you mumble softly, smiling brightly at him, shining like the sun currently bathing the two of you in it’s radiance. 

“Apologies for ever doubting you, meleth-nin,” he responds, returning your smile tenfold. 

Another breeze rushes through the courtyard, rustling your dress and Lindir’s hair. You laugh, the sound being swept away in the wind, singing in tune with the birds that have swept into the courtyard. Some spare white blossoms continue dancing through the sky, gently landing on Lindir’s head. He reaches up, delicately grabbing it, careful to not crush the pristine petals. He moves his hand to your hair, tucking the flower into one of your braids near the front of your face. You're practically glowing now, a beaming smile overcoming your face. And with your body practically vibrating from happiness, standing under the sun, you look like an otherworldly being. And if not for your round ears on clear display, some passersby might mistake you for an elf.

You lean forward, pressing a soft and sweet kiss to his lips, tasting the remnants of sweet berries on his lips. They were always his favorite, a fresh bowl of them always resting on his desk, only to be devoured within an hour. 

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, still smiling like an idiot. 

“No more than I love you,” he responds, a teasing undertone buried in his words. You pull back, eyes alight with overwhelming happiness. It’s over, everything with Sauron, Mordor, orcs, and that stupid ring is over, it has been for months. But now it feels real, standing here, wrapped up in Lindir as he smiles sweetly at you. 

“I respectfully disagree.” 

“And I respectfully disagree with your disagreement,” he fires back, grin getting wider and wider with each quip spoken. 

“And I respectfully disagree with your respectful disagreement,” you respond, matching his teasing tone, laughter hidden under each word.

“Well I --” he’s cut off by a hand touching your shoulder. Turning around you see Glorfindel standing there, obviously holding back the laughter that’s bubbling inside him, a beaming smile on his youthful face. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, my friends, but we do have a celebration to attend to,” he says, nodding towards the crowd of people leaving. 

“Of course,” Lindir replies, moving to stand to your left, holding out his arm to you. You slip your arm into his without hesitation. “Let us be off, My Lady.”

“With pleasure, My Lord.” 

                                                 o0o0o0o0o

Tags: 

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